If a talent be a claw, look how he claws him with a talent. Love's Labour's Lost.
The young ladies were truly in an intense state of excitement about thesale of work, especially about the authorship; and Uncle Lancelot havingpromised to send an estimate, a meeting of the Mouse-trap was convenedto consider of the materials, and certainly the mass of manuscriptcontributed at different times to the Mouse-trap magazine was appallingto all but Anna, who knew what was the shrinkage in the press.
She, however, held herself bound not to inflict on her busy uncle thereading of anything entirely impracticable, so she sat with a stern andcritical eye as the party mustered in Miss Mohun's drawing-room, andGillian took the chair.
"The great design," said she impressively, "is that the Mouse-trapshould collect and print and publish a selection for the benefit of theschool."
The Mice vehemently applauded, only Miss Norton, the oldest of theparty, asked humbly--
"Would any one think it worth buying?"
"Oh, yes," cried Valetta. "Lots of translations!"
"The Erl King, for instance," put in Dolores Mohun.
"If Anna would append the parody," suggested Gillian.
"Oh, parodies are--are horrid," said Mysie.
"Many people feel them so," said Gillian, "but to others I think theyare almost a proof of love, that they can make sport with what theyadmire so much."
"Then," said Mysie, "there's Dolores' Eruption!"
"What a nice subject," laughed Gillian. "However, it will dobeautifully, being the description of the pink terraces of that placewith the tremendous name in New Zealand."
"Were you there?" cried Anna.
"Yes. I always wonder how she can look the same after such adventures,"said Mysie.
"You know it is much the same as my father's paper in the ScientificWorld," said Dolores.
"Nobody over reads that, so it won't signify," was the uncomplimentaryverdict.
"And," added Mysie, "Mr. Brownlow would do a history of Rockquay, andthat would be worth having."
"Oh yes, the dear ghost and all!" cried Valetta.
The acclamation was general, for the Reverend Armine Brownlow was thecynosure curate of the lady Church-helpers, and Mysie produced as aprecious loan, to show what could be done, the volume containing thechoicest morceaux of the family magazine of his youth, the Traveller'sJoy, in white parchment binding adorned with clematis, and emblazonedwith the Evelyn arms on one side, the Brownlow on the other, and full ofphotographs and reproductions of drawings.
"Much too costly," said the prudent.
"It was not for sale," said Mysie, obviously uneasy while it was beinghanded round.
"Half-a-crown should be our outside price," said Gillian.
"Or a shilling without photographs, half-a-crown with," was added.
"Shall I ask Uncle Lance what can be done for how much?" asked Anna, andthis was accepted with acclamation, but, as Gillian observed, they hadyet got no further than Dolores' Eruption and the unwritten history.
"There are lots of stories," said Kitty Varley; "the one about Bayardand all the knights in Italy."
"The one," said Gillian, "where Padua got into the kingdom of Naples,and the lady of the house lighted a lucifer match, besides the horse whodrained a goblet of red wine."
"You know that was only the pronouns," suggested the author.
"Then there's another," added Valetta, "called Monrepos--such a beauty,when the husband was wounded, and died at his wife's feet just as thesun gilded the tops of the pines, and she died when the moon set, andthe little daughter went in and was found dead at their feet."
"No, no, Val," said Gillian. "Here is a story that Bessie has sentus--really worth having."
"Mesa! Oh, of course," was the acclamation.
"And here's a little thing of mine," Gillian added modestly, "about thedevelopment of the brain."
At this there was a shout.
"A little thing! Isn't it on the differential calculus?"
"Really, I don't see why Rockquay should not have a little rationalstudy!"
"Ah! but the present question is what Rockquay will buy; to furtherfuture development it may be, but I am afraid their brains are not yetdeveloped enough," said Emma Norton.
"Well then, here is the comparison between Euripides and Shakespeare."
"That's what you read papa and everybody to sleep with," said Valettapertly.
"Except Aunt Lily, and she said she had read something very like it inSchlegel," added Dolores.
"You must not be too deep for ordinary intellects, Gillian," said EmmaNorton good-naturedly. "Surely there is that pretty history you made outof Count Baldwin the Pretender."
"That! Oh, that is a childish concern."
"The better fitted for our understandings," said Emma, disinterring it,and handing it over to Anna, while Mysie breathed out--
"Oh! I did like it! And, Gill, where is Phyllis's account of the Jubileegaieties and procession last year?"
"That would make the fortune of any paper," said Anna.
"Yes, if Lady Rotherwood will let it be used," said Gillian. "It isreally delightful and full of fun, but I am quite sure that her namecould not appear, and I do not expect leave to use it."
"Shall I write and ask?" said Mysie.
"Oh yes, do; if Cousin Rotherwood is always gracious, it is specially toyou."
"I wrote to my cousin, Gerald Underwood," said Anna, "to ask if he hadanything to spare us, though I knew he would laugh at the whole concern,and he has sent down this. I don't quite know whether he was in earnestor in mischief."
And she read aloud--
"Dreaming of her laurels green, The learned Girton girl is seen, Or under the trapeze neat Figuring as an athlete.
Never at the kitchen door Will she scrub or polish more; No metaphoric dirt she eats, Literal dirt may form her treats.
Mary never idle sits, Home lessons can't be learnt by fits; Hard she studies all the week, Answers with undaunted cheek.
When to exam Mary goes, Smartly dressed in stunning clothes, Expert in algebraic rule, Best pupil-teacher of her school.
Oh, how clever we are found Who live on England's happy ground, Where rich and poor and wretched may Be drilled in Whitehall's favoured way."
There was a good deal of laughter at this parody of Jane Taylor'sVillage Girl, though Mysie was inclined to be shocked as at somethingprofane.
"Then what will you think of this?" said Anna, beginning gravely to readaloud The Inspector's Tour.
It was very clever, so clever that Valetta and Kitty Varley bothlistened as in sober earnest, never discovering, or only in flasheslike Mysie, that it was really a satire on all the social state of thedifferent European nations, under the denomination of schools. One beingdepicted as highly orthodox, but much given to sentence insubordinationto dark cold closets; another as given to severe drill, but neglectingmanners; a third as repudiating religious teaching, and now andthen preparing explosions for the masters--no, teachers. The variousconversations were exceedingly bright and comical; and there werebrilliant hits at existing circumstances, all a little in a socialisticspirit, which made Anna pause as she read. She really had not perceivedtill she heard it in her own voice and with other ears how audacious itwas, especially for a school bazaar.
Dolores applauded with her whole heart, but owned that it might betoo good for the Mouse-trap, it would be too like catching a monkey!Gillian, more doubtfully, questioned whether it would "quite do"; andMysie, when she understood the allusions, thought it would not. EmmaNorton was more decided, and it ended by deciding that the paper shouldbe read to the elders at Clipstone, and their decision taken beforesending it to Uncle Lance.
The spirits of the Muscipula party rose as they discussed the remainingMSS., but
these were not of the highest order of merit; and Anna thoughtthat the really good would be sufficient; and all the Underwood kith andkin had sufficient knowledge of the Press through their connection withthe 'Pursuivant' to be authorities on the subject.
"Fergus has some splendid duplicate ammonites for me and bits ofcrystal," said Mysie.
"Oh, do let Fergus alone," entreated Gillian. "He is almost apetrifaction already, and you know what depends on it."
"My sister is coming next week for a few days," said Anna. "She is veryclever, and may help us."
Emilia was accordingly introduced to the Mice, but she was not verytolerant of them. Essay societies, she said, were out of date, and shethought the Rockquay young ladies a very country-town set.
"You don't know them, Emmie," said Anna. "Gillian and Dolores are veryremarkable girls, only--"
"Only they are kept down by their mothers, I suppose. Is that thereason they don't do anything but potter after essay societies andSunday-schools like our little girls at Vale Leston? Why, I askedGillian, as you call her, what they were doing about the Penitents'Home, and she said her mother and Aunt Jane went to look after it, butnever talked about it."
"You know they are all very young."
"Young indeed! How is one ever to be of any use if mothers and peopleare always fussing about one's being young?"
"One won't always be so--"
"They would think so, like the woman of a hundred years old, who saidon her daughter's death at eighty, 'Ah, poor girl, I knew I never shouldrear her!' How shall I get to see the Infirmary here?"
"Miss Mohun would take you."
"Can't I go without a fidgety old maid after me?"
"I'll tell you what I wish you would do, Emmie. Write an account of oneof your hospital visits, or of the match-girls, for the Mouse-trap. Do!You know Gerald has written something for it."
"He! Why he has too much sense to write for your voluntary schools. Orit would be too clever and incisive for you. Ah! I see it was so by yourface! What did he send you? Have you got it still?"
"We have really a parody of his which is going in--The Girton Girl.Now, Emmie, won't you? You have told me such funny things about yourmatch-girls."
"I do not mean to let them be turned into ridicule by your prim,decorous swells. Why, I unfortunately told Fernan Brown one story--abouttheir mocking old Miss Bruce with putting on imitation spectacles--andit has served him for a cheval de bataille ever since! Oh, my dear Anna,he gets more hateful than ever. I wish you would come back and diverthis attention."
"Thank you."
"Don't you think we could change? You could go and let Marilda fuss withyou, now that Uncle Clem and Aunt Cherry are so well, and I could lookafter Adrian, and go to the Infirmary, and the penitents, and all thatthese people neglect; maybe I would write for the Mouse-trap, if Geralddoes when he comes home."
Anna did not like the proposal, but she pitied Emilia, and cared for herenough to carry the scheme to her aunt. But Geraldine shook her head.The one thing she did not wish was to have Emmie riding, walking,singing, and expanding into philanthropy with Gerald, and besides, sheknew that Emilia would never have patience to read to her uncle, or helpAdrian in his preparation.
"Do you really wish this, my dear?" she asked.
"N--no, not at all; but Emmie does. Could you not try her?"
"Annie dear, if you wish to have a fortnight or more in town--"
"Oh no, no, auntie, indeed!"
"We could get on now without you. Or we would keep Emmie till the roomis wanted; but I had far rather be alone than have the responsibility ofEmmie."
"No, no, indeed; I don't think Adrian would be good long with her. I hadmuch rather stay--only Emmie did wish, and she hates the--"
"Oh, my dear, you need not tell me; I only know that I cannot have herafter next week; the room will be wanted for Gerald."
"She could sleep with me."
"No, Annie, I must disappoint you. There is not room for her, and herflights when Gerald comes would never do for your uncle. You know ityourself."
Anna could not but own the wisdom of the decision, and Emmie, aftergrumbling at Aunt Cherry, took herself off. She had visited theInfirmary and the Convalescent Home, and even persuaded Mrs. Hablot toshow her the Union Workhouse, but she never sent her contribution to theMouse-trap.
CHAPTER IX. -- OUT BEYOND