Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
SilverthornsBy Mrs MolesworthIllustrations by J. Noel-PatonPublished by Hatchards, Piccadilly, London.This edition dated 1887.
Silverthorns, by Mrs Molesworth.
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________________________________________________________________________SILVERTHORNS, BY MRS MOLESWORTH.
CHAPTER ONE.
CHARLOTTE AND JERRY.
The school-room at Number 19, Norfolk Terrace, was not, it must beconfessed, a particularly attractive room. To begin with, it looked outupon the little garden at the back of the house, and this same littlegarden was not much to look out upon. The modest, old-fashioned name of"green" would have suited it better. Some of the gardens of theneighbouring houses were really pretty and well cared for, but MrsWaldron had long ago decided that to attempt making of "our garden"anything but a playground while the boys were still "such mere boys," soirrepressibly full of high spirits and mischief, would be but to addanother and unnecessary care to the long list of household matters whichshe found already quite as much as she could manage. So the gardenremained the green, and the school-room the plain, rather untidy-lookingroom it had always been. It was not really untidy--a radical foundationof order and arrangement was insisted upon. But any room which is theordinary resort of four boys and a girl, not to speak of occasionalinroads from two "nursery children," cannot be expected to look as if noone lived in it.
"We are invisibly tidy," the Waldron boys used to say with a certainpride. "We do know where our things are, and the cupboards and drawersare really not messy at all. But of course we can't rig boats, and oilskates, and paint, and carve, and all that, without the room showing it.Not to speak of Ted's stamp-album, and Arthur's autographs, and _all_,our lessons at night."
"Yes, that's all very fine," Charlotte would reply. "But if it wasn'tfor Jerry and me I wonder how long you _would_ all know where yourthings were, and how long the cupboards and drawers would pass mamma'sinspections!"
Whereupon would ensue a series of "Of course, dear Charlotte" cries, and"You are awfully good, we know" cries--for the three elder boys knewthat it would be a very bad look-out indeed for them if their sisterwere to relax in her constant efforts in their behalf.
"And really if it weren't for Jerry, I don't think I _could_ keep ontidying for them so," Charlotte would sometimes say. Jerry was theyoungest of the four big boys, in the middle of whom came Charlotte. Hewas lame, poor fellow, and as a small child he had been very delicate.That happily to a great extent was past now, but the gentleness andquickness of perception which often accompany delicate health hadremained. Jerry was as good as a sister any day, Charlotte used todeclare, and yet not the least "soft" either; considering his lamenessit was wonderful what Jerry could do.
There were two tiny sisters up in the nursery, babies that hardlycounted as yet in the restless, busy group of older ones. But theyadded their share, no doubt, to all that had to be done and thought of,though Charlotte often looked forward with prospective envy to thepleasant life that would be theirs when they came to her age.
"You are pretty sure to be out in the world by then, Jerry," she said tohim one day, "and I, if I am not married, shall be quite an old maid--asort of second mother to Amy and Marion. Think how nice and quiet andregular the house will be! I do think a large family is dreadful."
"But mamma says we don't know how dull it is to be an only child likeshe was," Jerry objected.
"_As_ she was--do talk grammar," said Charlotte. "I don't care--Ishould have liked to be an only child--or perhaps to have had just onebrother like you, Jerry. Just _think_ what a nice life we would havehad! But I mustn't talk any more. I _must_ copy out my literaturenotes. When I have finished them, Jerry, I will tell you something ifyou remind me."
The two had the school-room to themselves for once, which was the moreremarkable as it was Saturday afternoon, and not a summer Saturdayafternoon, nor yet a mid-winter frosty day, when Arthur, Ted, and Noblewould have been safe to be off skating. It was a late Septemberafternoon, dull and gloomy and already chilly. The rain had held off,however, fortunately, for the elder boys had for some days been planninga long country walk, to finish up with tea at the house of aschoolfellow, who lived a couple of miles out of the town.
"What a dreary day it is!" Charlotte began again, looking up from hernotes. "I wish we might have a fire," and she shivered a little.
"I dare say we might," said Jerry, starting up. "Shall I ask mamma?"
"No," Charlotte decided. "We shall be in the drawing-room all theevening. I've nearly done. I know mamma is glad not to give theservants anything extra to do on Saturdays. And they haven't got intothe way of regular winter fires yet. I wonder if it isn't any brighterout in the country to-day than it is here."
"Hardly, I should say," Jerry answered, as he glanced out of the window."Still it would be _nicer_ than here. I wish we had a pony-carriage,Charlotte--think what jolly drives we might have. Those woods outGretham way where the boys have gone must be nice even to-day," andJerry gave a little sigh. He could not walk far, and Wortherham, thoughnot a very large town, was partly a manufacturing one, and large enoughtherefore to be somewhat grim and smoky, and to make one long for thefreshness and clearness of country air.
"I wish you would not say that," said Charlotte, giving herself a littleshake. "It makes me feel as if everything was all wrong for you not tohave all you want, Jerry."
"Nobody has, I suppose," said the boy.
"I don't know about that," Charlotte replied. "But that reminds me.Jerry, you know that beautiful place out beyond Gretham. The place papadrove us out to once--he had some business there, I think."
"Silverthorns?" said Jerry. "Oh yes, I remember it. It is theprettiest place in the world, I think."
"So do I," agreed Charlotte with conviction. "Well, do you know, Jerry,the lady it belongs to--Lady Mildred something--I forget her last name--came the other day to see Miss Lloyd. I didn't see her, but the Frenchteacher told us. She came to settle about a girl coming to Miss Lloyd'sfor classes, the way we all do, only I don't know if she's to come everyday. Miss Lloyd was awfully pleased, I believe, for Lady Mildred saidshe had heard the teaching so highly spoken of, and that she wouldn'thave sent the girl to a regular _school_. You know Miss Lloyd pridesherself on hers not being a school, and it is true, everybody agrees,that we are thoroughly well taught."
"And who is the girl?" asked Jerry.
"I don't know her name, but she's Lady Mildred's niece. And somebody--oh yes, it was the Lewises, the doctor's daughters--said that LadyMildred has adopted her, so that she is a tremendous heiress. Andbesides this she's exceedingly pretty and charming. Dr Lewis saw herone day that he went to see Lady Mildred, and he quite raved about her,the girls said. Just fancy, Jerry, young--just about sixteen, and sopretty and so rich and so _grand_--can you believe _she_ hasn't got allshe wants!"
"I don't know," Jerry replied philosophically. "You'd better ask her.Perhaps she's an orphan," he added.
"Ah, well, perhaps she is. That would be sad, of course; but if herfather and mother died, as very likely they did, when she was quitelittle--a baby perhaps, and she can't remember them, that would bedifferent. And very likely Lady Mildred is just like a mother to her.Jerry, I _wish_ she weren't coming to our classes. I wouldn't say so toany one else, but I have a presentiment I shall _hate_ her."
"Charlotte!" Jerry ejaculated, surprised and even a little shocked.
But Charlotte's face half-belied her words. She was already laughing alittle, though she reddened too, slightly, as she felt her brother'ssoft blue eyes fixed upon her.
"I shouldn't say it, I know," she
said, shaking back the thick dark hairthat she still wore loose on her shoulders. "But you might understand.We are all very comfortable at Miss Lloyd's, and I don't want any one tocome and spoil it--an outsider, as it were, for the rest of us have beenthere so long, and she is too old to be in any but the highest class."
"Unless she's very stupid for her age," suggested Jerry. "Very likelyshe is--perhaps that's the thing she hasn't got, Charlotte. Cleverness,I mean. And I'm sure," he went on with brotherly frankness, "youwouldn't give up being