Beechcroft at Rockstone Page 8

  Gillian was not yet seventeen, and had lived a home life totally removedfrom gossip, so that she had no notion that she was doing a more awkwardor remarkable thing than if she had been teaching a drummer-boy. Sheeven deliberated whether she should mention her undertaking to hermother, or produce the grand achievement of Alexis White, prepared forcollege, on the return from India; but a sense that she had promised totell everything, and that, while she did so, she could defy any otherinterference, led her to write the design in a letter to Ceylon, andthen she felt ready to defy any censure or obstructions from otherQuarters.

  Mystery has a certain charm. Infinite knowledge of human nature wasshown in the text, 'Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten insecret is pleasant'; and it would be hard to define how much Gillian'ssatisfaction was owing to the sense of benevolence, or to the pleasureof eluding Aunt Jane, when, after going through her chapter of KatharineAshton, in a somewhat perfunctory manner, she hastened away to MissWhite's office. This, being connected with the showroom, could beentered without passing through the gate with the inscription--'Noadmittance except on business.' Indeed, the office had a private door,which, at Gillian's signal, was always opened to her. There, on thedrawing-desk, lay a Greek exercise and a translation, with queries uponthe difficulties for Gillian to correct, or answer in writing. Kalliopehad managed to make that little room a pleasant place, bare as it was,by pinning a few of her designs on the walls, and always keeping aterracotta vase of flowers or coloured leaves upon the table. The lowerpart of the window she had blocked with transparencies delicatelycut and tinted in cardboard--done, as she told Gillian, by her littlebrother Theodore, who learnt to draw at the National School, and hadthe same turn for art as herself. Altogether, the perfect neatnessand simplicity of the little room gave it an air of refinement, whichrendered it by no means an unfit setting for the grave beauty ofKalliope's countenance and figure.

  The enjoyment of the meeting was great on both sides, partly from thesavour of old times, and partly because there was really much that wasuncommon and remarkable about Kalliope herself. Her father's promotionhad come exactly when she and her next brother were at the time of lifewhen the changes it brought would tell most on their minds and manners.They had both been sent to schools where they had associated withyoung people of gentle breeding, which perhaps their partly foreignextraction, and southern birth and childhood, made it easier for them toassimilate. Their beauty and brightness had led to a good deal of kindlynotice from the officers and ladies of the regiment, and they had thusacquired the habits and ways of the class to which they had been raised.Their father, likewise, had been a man of a chivalrous nature, whoseyouthful mistakes had been the outcome of high spirit and romance, andwho, under discipline, danger, suffering, and responsibility, had becomeearnestly religious. There had besides been his Colonel's influence onhim, and on his children that of Lady Merrifield and Alethea.

  It had then been a piteous change and darkening of life when, after thecrushing grief of his death, the young people found themselves in suchan entirely different stratum of society. They were ready to work, butthey could not help feeling the mortification of being relegated belowthe mysterious line of gentry, as they found themselves at Rockquay, andviewed as on a level with the clerks and shop-girls of the place. Stillmore, as time went on, did they miss the companionship and intercourseto which they had been used. Mr. Flight, the only person in a higherrank who took notice of them, and perceived that there was more in themthan was usual, was after all only a patron--not a friend, and perhapswas not essentially enough of a gentleman to be free from all airs ofcondescension even with Alexis, while he might be wise in not making toomuch of an approach to so beautiful a girl as Kalliope. Besides, aftera fit of eagerness, and something very like promises, he had apparentlylet Alexis drop, only using him for his musical services, and not doinganything to promote the studies for which the young man thirsted, norproposing anything for the younger boys, who would soon outgrow theNational School.

  Alexis had made a few semi-friends among the musical youth of the place;but there was no one to sympathise with him in his studious tastes, andthere was much in his appearance and manners to cause the accusation ofbeing 'stuck-up'--music being really the only point of contact with mostof his fellows of the lower professional class.

  Kalliope had less time, but she had, on principle, cultivated kindlyterms with the young women employed under her. Her severe style ofbeauty removed her from any jealousy of her as a rival, and she wasadmired--almost worshipped--by them as the glory of the workshop.They felt her superiority, and owned her ability; but nobody there wascapable of being a companion to her. Thus the sister and brother hadalmost wholly depended upon one another; and it was like a breath fromwhat now seemed the golden age of their lives when Gillian Merrifieldwalked into the office, treating Kalliope with all the freedom of anequal and the affection of an old friend. There was not very much timeto spare after Gillian had looked at the exercises, noted andcorrected the errors, and explained the difficulties or mistakes in thetranslation from Testament and Delectus, feeling all the time how muchmore mastery of the subject her pupil had than Mr. Pollock's at home hadever attained to.

  However, Kalliope always walked home with her as far as the opening ofChurch Cliff Road, and they talked of the cleverness and goodness of thebrothers, except Richard at Leeds, who never seemed to be mentioned; howTheodore kept at the head of the school, and had hopes of the drawingprize, and how little Petros devoured tales of battles, and would hearof nothing but being a soldier. Now and then, too, there was a castle inthe air of a home for little Maura at Alexis's future curacy. Kalliopeseemed to look to working for life for poor mother, while Theodoreshould cultivate his art. Oftener the two recalled old adventures andscenes of their regimental days, and discussed the weddings of the twoIndian sisters.

  Once, however, Kalliope was obliged to suggest, with a blushing apology,that she feared Gillian must go home alone, she was not ready.

  'Can't I help you? what have you to do?'

  Kalliope attempted some excuse of putting away designs, but presentlypeeped from the window, and Gillian, with excited curiosity, imitatedher, and beheld, lingering about, a young man in the pink of fashion,with a tea-rose in his buttonhole and a cane in his hand.

  'Oh, Kally,' she cried, 'does he often hang about like this waiting foryou?'

  'Not often, happily. There! old Mr. Stebbing has come out, and they arewalking away together. We can go now.'

  'So he besets you, and you have to keep out of his way,' exclaimedGillian, much excited. 'Is that the reason you come to the garden allalone on Sunday?'

  'Yes, though I little guessed what awaited me there,' returned Kalliope;'but we had better make haste, for it is late for you to be returning.'

  It was disappointing that Kalliope would not discuss such an interestingaffair; but Gillian was sensible of the danger of being so late as tocause questions, and she allowed herself to be hurried on too fast forconversation, and passing the two Stebbings, who, no doubt, took her fora 'hand.'

  'Does this often happen?' asked Gillian.

  'No; Alec walks home with me, and the boys often come and meet me. Oh,did I tell you that the master wants Theodore to be a pupil-teacher? Iwish I knew what was best for him.'

  'Could not he be an artist?'

  'I should like some one to tell me whether he really has talentworth cultivating, dear boy, or if he would be safer and better in anhonourable occupation like a school-master.'

  'Do you call it honourable?'

  'Oh yes, to be sure. I put it next to a clergyman's or a doctor's life.'

  'Not a soldier's?'

  'That depends,' said Kalliope.

  'On the service he is sent upon, you mean? But that is his sovereign'slook-out. He "only has to obey, to do or die."'

  'Yes, it is the putting away of self, and possible peril of life, thatmakes all those grandest,' said Kalliope, 'and I think the schoolmasteris next in opportunities of doing g
ood.'

  Gillian could not help thinking that none of all these could put awayself more entirely than the girl beside her, toiling away her beauty andher youth in this dull round of toil, not able to exercise the instinctsof her art to the utmost, and with no change from the monotonous roundof mosaics, which were forced to be second rate, to the commonesthousehold works, and the company of the Queen of the White Ants.

  Gillian perceived enough of the nobleness of such a life to fillher with a certain enthusiasm, and make her feel a day blank anduninteresting if she could not make her way to the little office.

  One evening, towards the end of the first fortnight, Alexis himself camein with a passage that he wanted to have explained. His sisterlooked uneasy all the time, and hurried to put on her hat, and standdemonstratively waiting, telling Gillian that they must go, the momentthe lesson began to tend to discursive talk, and making a most decidedsign of prohibition to her brother when he showed a disposition toaccompany them.

  'I think you are frightfully particular, Kally,' said Gillian, when theywere on their way up the hill. 'Such an old friend, and you there, too.'

  'It would never do here! It would be wrong,' answered Kalliope, with theauthority of an older woman. 'He must not come to the office.'

  'Oh, but how could I ever explain to him? One can't do everything inwriting. I might as well give up the lessons as never speak to him aboutthem.'

  There was truth in this, and perhaps Alexis used some such arguments onhis side, for at about every third visit of Gillian's he dropped in withsome important inquiry necessary to his progress, which was rapid enoughto compel Gillian to devote some time to preparation, in order to keepahead of him.

  Kalliope kept diligent guard, and watched against lengthening thelessons into gossip, and they were always after hours when the hands hadgone away. The fear of being detected kept Gillian ready to shorten thetime.

  'How late you are!' were the first words she heard one October eveningon entering Beechcroft Cottage; but they were followed by 'Here's apleasure for you!'

  'It's from papa himself! Open it! Open it quick,' cried Valetta, dancinground her in full appreciation of the honour and delight.

  Sir Jasper said that his daughter must put up with him for acorrespondent, since two brides at once were as much as any mother couldbe supposed to undertake. Indeed, as mamma would not leave him, Phylliswas actually going to Calcutta, chaperoned by one of the matrons of thestation, to make purchases for both outfits, since Alethea would notstir from under the maternal wing sooner than she could help.

  At the end came, 'We are much shocked at poor White's death. He was anexcellent officer, and a good and sensible man, though much hamperedwith his family. I am afraid his wife must be a very helpless being. Heused to talk about the good promise of one of his sons--the second, Ithink. We will see whether anything can be done for the children whenwe come home. I say we, for I find I shall have to be invalided beforeI can be entirely patched up, so that mamma and I shall have a sort ofpostponed silver wedding tour, a new variety for the old folks "fromhome."'

  'Oh, is papa coming home?' cried Valetta.

  'For good! Oh, I hope it will be for good,' added Gillian.

  'Then we shall live at dear Silverfold all the days of our life,' addedFergus.

  'And I shall get back to Rigdum.'

  'And I shall make a telephone down to the stables,' were the cries ofthe children.

  The transcendent news quite swallowed up everything else for some time;but at last Gillian recurred to her father's testimony as to the Whitefamily.

  'Is the second son the musical one?' she was asked, and on heraffirmative, Aunt Jane remarked, 'Well, though the Rev. Augustine Flightis not on a pinnacle of human wisdom, his choir practices, etc., willkeep the lad well out of harm's way till your father can see about him.'

  This would have been an opportunity of explaining the youth's aims andhopes, and her own share in forwarding them; but it had become difficultto avow the extent of her intercourse with the brother and sister, soentirely without the knowledge of her aunts. Even Miss Mohun, acute asshe was, had no suspicions, and only thought with much satisfaction thather niece was growing more attentive to poor Lilian Giles, even to thepoint of lingering.

  'I really think, she said, in consultation with Miss Adeline, 'that wemight gratify that damsel by having the White girls to drink tea.'

  'Well, we can add them to your winter party of young ladies inbusiness.'

  'Hardly. These stand on different ground, and I don't want to hurt theirfeelings or Gillian's by mixing them up with the shopocracy.'

  'Have you seen the Queen of the White Ants?'

  'Not yet; but I mean to reconnoitre, and if I see no cause to thecontrary, I shall invite them for next Tuesday.'

  'The mother? You might as well ask her namesake.'

  'Probably; but I shall be better able to judge when I have seen her.'

  So Miss Mohun trotted off, made her visit, and thus reported, 'Poorwoman! she certainly is not lovely now, whatever she may have been;but I should think there was no harm in her, and she is effusive inher gratitude to all the Merrifield family. It is plain that the absenteldest son is the favourite, far more so than the two useful childrenat the marble works; and Mr. White is spoken of as a sort of tyrant,whereas I should think they owed a good deal to his kindness in givingthem employment.'

  'I always thought he was an old hunks.'

  'The town thinks so because he does not come and spend freely here; butI have my doubts whether they are right. He is always ready to do hispart in subscriptions; and the employing these young people as he doesis true kindness.'

  'Unappreciated.'

  'Yes, by the mother who would expect to be kept like a lady in idleness,but perhaps not so by her daughter. From all I can pick up, I thinkshe must be a very worthy person, so I have asked her and the littleschoolgirl for Tuesday evening, and I hope it will not be a greatnuisance to you, Ada.'

  'Oh no,' said Miss Adeline, good humouredly, 'it will please Gillian,and I shall be interested in seeing the species, or rather the variety.'

  'Var Musa Groeca Hibernica Militaris,' laughed Aunt Jane.

  'By the bye, I further found out what made the Captain enlist.'

  'Trust you for doing that!' laughed her sister.

  'Really it was not on purpose, but old Zack Skilly was indulging me withsome of his ancient smuggling experiences, in what he evidently views asthe heroic age of Rockquay. "Men was men, then," he says. "Now they begood for nought, but to row out the gentlefolks when the water is assmooth as glass." You should hear the contempt in his voice. Well, apromising young hero of his was Dick White, what used to work for hisuncle, but liked a bit of a lark, and at last hit one of the coastguardmen in a fight, and ran away, and folks said he had gone for a soldier.Skilly had heard he was dead, and his wife had come to live in theseparts, but there was no knowing what was true and what wasn't. Folkswould talk! Dick was a likely chap, with more life about him than hiscousin Jem, as was a great man now, and owned all the marble works, anda goodish bit of the town. There was a talk as how the two lads hadboth been a courting of the same maid, that was Betsy Polwhele, and hadfallen out about her, but how that might be he could not tell. Anyhow,she was not wed to one nor t'other of them, but went into a waste anddied.'

  'I wonder if it was for Dick's sake. So Jem was not constant either.'

  'Except to his second love. That was a piteous little story too.'

  'You mean his young wife's health failing as soon as he brought her tothat house which he was building for her, and then his taking her toItaly, and never enduring to come back here again after she and herchild died. But he made a good thing of it with his quarries in themountains.'

  'You sordid person, do you think that was all he cared for!'

  'Well, I always thought of him as a great, stout, monied man, quiteincapable of romance and sensitiveness.'

  'If so, don't you think he would have let that house instead of k
eepingit up in empty state! There is a good deal of character in thoseWhites.'

  'The Captain is certainly the most marked man, except Jasper, in thatgroup of officers in Gillian's photograph-book.'

  'Partly from the fact that a herd of young officers always look soexactly alike--at least in the eyes of elderly spinsters.'

  'Jane!'

  'Let us hope so, now that it is all over. This same Dick must have hadsomething remarkable about him, to judge by the impression he seemsto have left on all who came in his way, and I shall like to see hischildren.'

  'You always do like queer people.'

  'It is plain that we ought to take notice of them,' said Miss Mohun,'and it is not wholesome for Gillian to think us backward in kindness tofriends about whom she plainly has a little romance.'

  She refrained from uttering a suspicion inspired by her visit that therehad been more 'kindnesses' on her niece's part than she could quiteaccount for. Yet she believed that she knew how all the girl's dayswere spent; was certain that the Sunday wanderings never went beyond thegarden, and, moreover, she implicitly trusted Lily's daughter.

  Gillian did not manifest as much delight and gratitude at the invitationas her aunts expected. In point of fact, she resented Aunt Jane's makinga visit of investigation without telling her, and she was uneasy lestthere should have been or yet should be a disclosure that should makeher proceedings appear clandestine. 'And they are not!' said she toherself with vehemence. 'Do I not write them all to my own mother? Anddid not Miss Vincent allow that one is not bound to treat aunts likeparents?'

  Even the discovery of Captain White's antecedents was almost an offence,for if her aunt would not let her inquire, why should she do so herself,save to preserve the choice morceau for her own superior intelligence?Thus all the reply that Gillian deigned was, 'Of course I knew thatCaptain White could never have done anything to be ashamed of.'

  The weather was too wet for any previous meetings, and it was on awild stormy evening that the two sisters appeared at seven o'clock atBeechcroft Cottage. While hats and waterproofs were being taken offupstairs, Gillian found opportunity to give a warning against mentioningthe Greek lessons. It was received with consternation.

  'Oh, Miss Merrifield, do not your aunts know?'

  'No. Why should they? Mamma does.'

  'Not yet. And she is so far off! I wish Miss Mohun knew! I made surethat she did,' said Kalliope, much distressed.

  'But why? It would only make a fuss.'

  'I should be much happier about it.'

  'And perhaps have it all upset.'

  'That is the point. I felt that it must be all right as long as MissMohun sanctioned it; but I could not bear that we should be the means ofbringing you into a scrape, by doing what she might disapprove while youare under her care.'

  'Don't you think you can trust me to know my own relations?' saidGillian somewhat haughtily.

  'Indeed, I did not mean that we are not infinitely obliged to you,' saidKalliope. 'It has made Alexis another creature to have some hope, andfeel himself making progress.'

  'Then why do you want to have a fuss, and a bother, and a chatter? If myfather and mother don't approve, they can telegraph.'

  With which argument she appeased or rather silenced Kalliope, who couldnot but feel the task of objecting alike ungracious and ungratefultowards the instructor, and absolutely cruel and unkind towards herbrother, and who spoke only from a sense of the treachery of allowing ayounger girl to transgress in ignorance. Still she was conscious of notunderstanding on what terms the niece and aunts might be, and theSt. Kenelm's estimate of the Beechcroft ladies was naturally somewhatdifferent from that of the St. Andrew's congregation. Miss Mohun waspopularly regarded in those quarters as an intolerable busybody, andMiss Adeline as a hypochondriacal fine lady, so that Gillian mightperhaps reasonably object to put herself into absolute subjection; so,though Kalliope might have a presentiment of breakers ahead, she couldsay no more, and Gillian, feeling that she had been cross, changed thesubject by admiring the pretty short curly hair that was being tied backat the glass.

  'I wish it would grow long,' said Kalliope. 'But it always was rathershort and troublesome, and ever since it was cut short in the fever, Ihave been obliged to keep it like this.'

  'But it suits you,' said Gillian. 'And it is exactly the thing now.'

  'That is the worst of it. It looks as if I wore it so on purpose.However, all our hands know that I cannot help it, and so does LadyFlight.'

  The girl looked exceedingly well, though little Alice, the maid, wouldnot have gone out to tea in such an ancient black dress, with no reliefsave a rim of white at neck and hands, and a tiny silver Maltese crossat the throat. Maura had a comparatively new gray dress, picked out withblack. She was a pretty creature, the Irish beauty predominating overthe Greek, in her great long-lashed brown eyes, which looked radiantwith shy happiness. Miss Adeline was perfectly taken by surprise at theentrance of two such uncommon forms and faces, and the quiet dignityof the elder made her for a moment suppose that her sister must haveinvited some additional guest of undoubted station.

  Valetta, who had grown fond of Maura in their school life, and whodearly loved patronising, pounced upon her guest to show her all mannerof treasures and curiosities, at which she looked in great delight; andFergus was so well satisfied with her comprehension of the principlesof the letter balance, that he would have taken her upstairs to beintroduced to all his mechanical inventions, if the total darkness andcold of his den had not been prohibitory.

  Kalliope looked to perfection, but was more silent than her sister,though, as Miss Mohun's keen eye noted, it was not the shyness of aconscious inferior in an unaccustomed world, but rather that of a grave,reserved nature, not chattering for the sake of mere talk.

  Gillian's photograph-book was well looked over, with all the brothersand sisters at different stages, and the group of officers. Miss Mohunnoted the talk that passed over these, as they were identified one byone, sometimes with little reminiscences, childishly full on Gillian'spart, betraying on Kalliope's side friendly acquaintance, but all in asentirely ladylike terms as would have befitted Phyllis or Alethea. Shecould well believe in the words with which Miss White rather hastenedthe turning of the page, 'Those were happy days--I dare not dwell onthem too much!'

  'Oh, I like to do so!' cried Gillian. 'I don't want the little ones everto forget them.'

  'Yes--you! But with you it would not be repining.'

  This was for Gillian's ear alone, as at that moment both the aunts were,at the children's solicitation, engaged on the exhibition of awonderful musical-box--Aunt Adeline's share of her mother's weddingpresents--containing a bird that hovered and sung, the mechanicalcontrivance of which was the chief merit in Fergus's eyes, and which hadfascinated generations of young people for the last sixty years. AuntJane, however, could hear through anything--even through the winding-upof what the family called 'Aunt Ada's Jackdaw,' and she drew herconclusions, with increasing respect and pity for the young girl overwhose life such a change had come.

  But it was not this, but what she called common humanity, which promptedher, on hearing a heavy gust of rain against the windows, to go into thelower regions in quest of a messenger boy to order a brougham to takethe guests home at the end of the evening.

  The meal went off pleasantly on the whole, though there loomed a stormas to the ritual of St. Kenelm's; but this chiefly was owing to theyounger division of the company, when Valetta broke into an unnecessaryinquiry why they did not have as many lights on the altar atSt. Andrew's as at St. Kenelm's, and Fergus put her down withunceremoniously declaring that Stebbing said Flight was a donkey.

  Gillian came down with what she meant for a crushing rebuke, and theindignant colour rose in the cheeks of the guests; but Fergus persisted,'But he makes a guy of himself and a mountebank.'

  Aunt Jane thought it time to interfere. 'Fergus,' she said, 'you hadbetter not repeat improper sayings, especially about a clergyman.'

 
Fergus wriggled.

  'And,' added Aunt Ada, with equal severity, 'you know Mr. Flight is avery kind friend to little Maura and her sister.'

  'Indeed he is,' said Kalliope earnestly; and Maura, feeling herselfaddressed, added, 'Nobody but he ever called on poor mamma, till MissMohun did; no, not Lady Flight.'

  'We are very grateful for his kindness,' put in Kalliope, in arepressive tone.

  'But,' said Gillian, 'I thought you said he had seemed to care less oflate.'

  'I do not know,' said Miss White, blushing; 'music seems to be his chiefinterest, and there has not been anything fresh to get up since theconcert.'

  'I suppose there will be for the winter,' said Miss Mohun, and therewiththe conversation was safely conducted away to musical subjects, in whichsome of the sisters' pride and affection for their brothers peeped out;but Gillian was conscious all the time that Kalliope was speaking withsome constraint when she mentioned Alexis, and that she was glad ratherto dwell on little Theodore, who had good hopes of the drawing prize,and she seriously consulted Miss Mohun on the pupil-teachership for him,as after he had passed the seventh standard he could not otherwise goon with his education, though she did not think he had much time forteaching.

  'Would not Mr. White help him further?' asked Miss Mohun.

  'I do not know. I had much rather not ask,' said Kalliope. 'We are toomany to throw ourselves on a person who is no near relation, and he hasnot seemed greatly disposed to help.'

  'Your elder brother?'

  'Oh, poor Richard, he is not earning anything yet. I can't ask him. IfI only knew of some school I could be sure was safe and good and nottoo costly, Alexis and I would try to manage for Theodore after theexamination in the spring.'

  The Woodward schools were a new light to her, and she was eagerlyinterested in Miss Mohun's explanations and in the scale of terms.

  Meantime Miss Adeline got on excellently with the younger ones, and whenthe others were free, proposed for their benefit a spelling game. Allsat round the table, made words, and abstracted one another's withincreasing animation, scarcely heeding the roaring of the wind outside,till there was a ring at the bell.

  'My brother has come for us,' said Kalliope.

  'Oh, but it is not fit for you to walk home,' said Miss Mohun. 'Thebrougham is coming by and by; ask Mr. White to come in,' she added, asthe maid appeared with the message that he was come for his sisters.

  There was a confusion of acknowledgments and disclaimers, and word wasbrought back that Mr. White was too wet to come in. Miss Mohun, whowas not playing, but prompting Fergus, jumped up and went out toinvestigate, when she found a form in an ancient military cloak, tryingto keep himself from dripping where wet could do mischief. She had toexplain her regret at his having had such a walk in vain; but she hadtaken alarm on finding that rain was setting in for the night, andhad sent word by the muffin-boy that the brougham would be wanted,contriving to convey that it was not to be paid for.

  Nothing remained to be said except thanks, and Alexis emerged fromthe cloak, which looked as if it had gone through all his father'scampaigns, took off his gaiters, did his best for his boots, and,though not in evening costume, looked very gentleman-like and remarkablyhandsome in the drawing-room, with no token of awkward embarrassmentsave a becoming blush.

  Gillian began to tremble inwardly again, but the game had just endedin her favour, owing to Fergus having lost all his advantages in AuntJane's absence, besides signalising himself by capturing Maura's 'bury,'under the impression that an additional R would combine that and strawinto a fruit.

  So the coast being cleared, Miss Adeline greatly relieved her niece'smind by begging, as a personal favour, to hear the song whose renownat the concert had reached her; and thus the time was safely spent insinging till the carriage was announced, and good-nights exchanged.

  Maura's eyes grew round with delight, and she jumped for joy at thepreferment.

  'Oh!' she said, as she fervently kissed Valetta, 'it is the mostdelightful evening I ever spent in the whole course of my life, exceptat Lady Merrifield's Christmas-tree! And now to go home in a carriage! Inever went in one since I can remember!'

  And Kalliope's 'Thank you, we have enjoyed ourselves very much,' wasvery fervent.

  'Those young people are very superior to what I expected,' said AuntAdeline. 'What fine creatures, all so handsome; and that little Maura isa perfect darling.'

  'The Muse herself is very superior,' said Miss Mohun. 'One of those homeheroines who do the work of Atlas without knowing it. I do not wonderthat the marble girls speak of her so enthusiastically.'

  How Gillian might have enjoyed all this, and yet she could not, exceptso far that she told herself that thus there could be no reasonableobjection made by her aunts to intercourse with those whom they so muchadmired.

  Yet perhaps even then she would have told all, but that, after havingbound over Kalliope to secrecy, it would be awkward to confess that shehad told all. It would be like owning herself in the wrong, and for thatshe was not prepared. Besides, where would be the secrecy of her 'greatthing'?

  CHAPTER IX. -- GAUGING AJEE