Read Ebook: A Daughter of the Middle Border by Garland Hamlin

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Ebook has 1821 lines and 126044 words, and 37 pages

"Maudie, this is my niece Lettice," said Colonel Fenchurch, presenting her with ceremony. "Letty, Mrs. Hesketh is our nearest neighbour and your aunt's cousin, and I hope you may find a corner in her heart."

"My dear, you must be perished," said the lady kindly. "Why, I declare you are positively shivering!"

"Oh no, no," she protested, whilst her uncle helped her to remove her wrap. "This room is delightfully warm."

"Now, Letty, take off your hat," he urged eagerly.

"I am afraid my hair is dreadfully untidy," but she nevertheless removed a fur cap, and bared a head of beautiful light brown hair, which exhibited a natural wave.

"So you have had a long journey," continued Mrs. Hesketh.

"Yes, nearly two days--we all travelled together--I mean the girls at my school--as far as London."

"And the crossing?"

"Come tell us about your railway accident," said her uncle cheerfully.

"It was really nothing," she answered; "we ran past another train that had been shunted, and the end of it caught our carriage doors, or something--at any rate we were nearly shaken off the line. It gave us a shock, for we were travelling fast, and were dreadfully mixed up in our compartment."

"And who were you mixed up with?" he enquired jocosely.

"The young man in the opposite seat," and she coloured and laughed. "He wore an enormously thick ulster, and so I wasn't a bit hurt."

"And afterwards?"

"Do you take sugar?" interrupted Mrs. Fenchurch, with the tongs in her hand.

"Yes, if you please, aunt--one lump."

"Then here is your tea at last, and some nice hot toast," said Colonel Fenchurch, approaching. As he sat down beside her he said, "And how did you and the young man continue the acquaintance so violently begun?"

"He asked me if I was hurt--that was all."

"The least he could do! Why, bless my soul, he might have knocked all your front teeth down your throat, or put out one of your eyes--and then he would have had to marry you, eh?"

"I am sure he wouldn't have agreed to that," she answered gaily.

"He might go further, and fare worse," rejoined her uncle, with a proud and significant glance at his wife, who had now approached the sofa.

"Of course, you left your luggage at Tatton, Letty?"

"Yes, Aunt Dorothy; I only brought up my dressing-bag. The boy gave me your message."

"That was right. And now, as soon as you feel a little rested, I will take you upstairs. Your quarters are at the top of the house, but large and sunny--with a funny little staircase all to yourself!"

"I am sure it is charming, aunt," rising as she spoke; "it will be delightful to have not only a staircase, but a whole room to myself," and with a pretty little foreign curtsey to Mrs. Hesketh, the girl collected her wraps and followed Mrs. Fenchurch into the hall.

"Well, what do you think of her, eh?" enquired Colonel Fenchurch, retiring to the hearth-rug as to a vantage ground, and sticking his thumbs into the arm-holes of his waistcoat.

"Lovers be hanged!" he exclaimed irritably. "Letty is too young yet--we shall keep her with us as long as we can. She seems as simple as a child, doesn't she?--and rather shy?"

"I fancy she is one of those girls who develop slowly. Her age may be seventeen, but in experience of life probably she is not more than ten or twelve."

"Lots of girls know their way about the world at seventeen, and are one too many for many a man," declared Colonel Fenchurch; "but I remember that my sister, ten years my junior, was extraordinarily young in her ideas, easily influenced, ready to be ordered about, and as obedient as if she were a kid. She never knew her own mind--or had any fixed opinions--except about Glyn. He made up her mind, and ordered her to run away with him, a handsome, reckless, dare-devil. They went out to India to his regiment, and he was killed within a year up on the frontier, some fool-hardy exploit, or he would be alive now."

"And take his daughter off your hands," suggested the lady.

"Oh, well, I am happy and proud to adopt his daughter--especially since I have none of my own."

Mrs. Hesketh raised her dark discontented eyes to his, and murmured an interrogative "Yes?"

After a momentary struggle between inclination and discretion, he continued, "Between you and me, Maudie," lowering his voice to a whisper, "I hope to goodness that Doodie will take to her!"

It must be admitted that November is not an auspicious month for a stranger to make acquaintance with the English country; the trees are bare and leafless, the fields empty and uninteresting, and what can be said for monotonous, muddy roads, cold frosty mornings, and long dark nights?

However, Letty speedily settled into her awarded niche, and endeavoured to make herself at home. She soon became acquainted with the dogs and horses, with her uncle's little fads, and her aunt's peculiarities, duly appeared at church, was presented to the parson's afflicted wife, and made a state call upon Mrs. Hesketh. Also, she did her utmost to be useful; but her well-meaning efforts were not always successful. For instance, with respect to arranging flowers, the schoolgirl had no experience, her vases looked ragged, or in clumps; she lacked the 'airy, fairy' touch of an expert--but that, no doubt, would come. Then as to dusting the valuable old china; here again she was something of a failure. In handling a cherished blue plate, it slipped through her fingers as a thing alive, rolled defiantly along a stone passage, and subsided in a dozen pieces. Although Mrs. Fenchurch had picked this up for sevenpence in a village inn, it was a good specimen, and she showed her displeasure and annoyance plainly--in fact so plainly, that Letty wept! However, day by day the new-comer improved; she helped her aunt to feed the fowls, and date and pack the eggs for sale, assisted in the greenhouse, brushed and exercised the dogs, and took an humble and subordinate part in Mrs. Fenchurch's numerous and absorbing occupations.

The Holt was situated at the extremity of a picturesque village, which consisted of a rambling street of red brick or black and white houses; half-way down this, perched on a high bank, was a fine old church, with its surrounding graveyard; and here and there, were little shops, and quaint signboards, and what had once been a celebrated posting inn--now used for the storage of grain. At the further end of Thornby was a grim-faced Georgian mansion, standing back from the road, its lawn and approach well screened from view by thick laurel hedges; immediately behind the residence, were large and unexpectedly delightful grounds. Mrs. Hesketh, who had occupied Oldcourt for ten years, was a childless widow, with few belongings or intimates; once a notable leader in society, but latterly indifferent health, and serious money losses, had swept her out of the social current, and she had come to Thornby to live near her active cousin, Dolly Fenchurch, possibly in hopes of catching the contagion of her love for a busy rural life. An intellectual woman, and an omnivorous reader, Maude Hesketh dwelt to a great extent within herself; eagerly watching, through the columns of the Press, the great world as it went rolling by.

To sum her up, Maude Hesketh was a clever, noble-hearted, dissatisfied woman, bitterly disappointed to find that with all her gifts and opportunities, she had made so little of her life. And now, as she would say to herself, "There is no time--it is almost over!"

But to return to The Holt after this digression. The new inmate was beginning to make her presence felt in the household, she was a ready learner, being both keen and adaptable; her aunt's example and capabilities impressed her enormously; every day, every hour seemed to have its own particular task. Mrs. Fenchurch had a wonderful sense of organisation and routine, and never one moment to spare. Her writing-room was the nucleus of her activities; here on a neat bureau were 'the books.' The house books, the village books, the visitor's book, the clothing club book, the letter book, the garden book, and last but not least--the egg book! A certain amount of this order and energy was imparted to her niece; the mistress of the house knew how to make use of capable subordinates--she would have made an efficient, though not very popular or gracious abbess--was thoroughly practical, and far-reaching--and particularly prided herself on her sense of justice!

As it happened to be good hunting weather, and an open winter, she left Letty at home as often as three days a week, to act as regent, answer messages, visit the greenhouses, and the poultry-yard, attend the sewing club, and exercise the dogs.

Colonel Fenchurch had suggested that his niece should learn to ride. He had even put her up on old Playboy, and taken her round the fields with a leading-rein, declaring that "the girl really had the riding flair--it was her Irish blood no doubt; she was not a bit afraid, and stuck on like a leech," but his wife had negatived the idea with prompt decision.

And meanwhile Colonel Fenchurch gave his niece riding lessons on the sly; he took her out into the fields on off days when his wife was buried in important letters, and exercised the pony that in summer drew the garden mower. Letty found her gaunt, hard-featured aunt both cold and unresponsive--the typical English character--but oh, so marvellously clever! As for her uncle--who was of her own blood--she adored him, and manifested this affection in many pretty ways; brought him his pipe and matches, folded up his gloves and mufflers, ran for his cap or hunting-crop. Tom Fenchurch liked it; it warmed his old heart to see this charming girl waiting upon him so eagerly; but his wife contemplated such attentions with a frosty eye. In her opinion, Letty was too impulsive and gushing; and she gave her sundry sharp hints and raps, generally accepted in silence and humility--for all her life long the girl was accustomed to the yoke of obedience. Her mental attitude was another affair, and though she loved her uncle, sad to relate niece Letty was now beginning to detest her aunt.

Accepting Letty as a mere child, and no more, Mrs. Fenchurch was astonished to discover that she was highly accomplished . She played music at sight, was an excellent German scholar, spoke French fluently, and executed most delicate embroideries--but was deplorably ignorant as to the cutting out and manufacture of garments, that were desirable and useful for the clothing club. It was evident that to her, life outside school and school routine was an absolutely unknown land. She had never seen a Meet, never been to a ball, or taken part in any social festivity. However all that would come in good time; meanwhile the girl was no trouble in the house, and proved surprisingly docile; never advanced opinions of her own, and did precisely as she was told. This aspect of her character appealed to Mrs. Fenchurch; there was nothing she enjoyed so keenly as settling the minds, and arranging the plans of others; and Letty, so to speak, left her life, her aims, and her future, entirely at her aunt's disposal. Her will was really too flexible, she had no self-confidence, and in the anatomy of her individuality there was no such article as the proverbial backbone!

Mrs. Hesketh, who had taken one of her rare fancies to her cousin's niece, invited her frequently to tea. It amused and interested her to sound the depths of this transparent young soul--to endeavour to draw out the ideas of sweet seventeen.

"My dear child, you are charming," she declared, "and you are accomplished, but you cannot possibly go through life without a mind and opinion of your own! When I called to take you for a drive the other day, you could not positively say yes or no--but shall I? And then 'Perhaps I'd better not,' and then 'I'm not sure if aunt won't want me when she comes in,' and again, 'I'd like to go above all things, but I'm afraid I've kept you so long that I won't have time to get ready now.' And at the end, just as I was getting into the carriage, 'Oh, how I wish I was going with you!' Now if you continue like this--always standing between two forked roads, what will become of you? At present your aunt decides, but you cannot always be a tender plant, clinging to a stout support, can you?"

"Look here, my good girl," said Mrs. Hesketh impatiently, "if you have no will of your own, you must grow one! Now I will plant a little seed. You are asked to sing in the Parish Room on Saturday at the Penny Reading. I hear that your answer, since the matter has been left to you, is undecided."

"Yes."

"Tell me honestly, would you like to sing--or are you too nervous?"

"I am not the least nervous. I have been accustomed to sing and play at school concerts for years. I was quite a star!" and she laughed gaily; "and I really would like to sing on Saturday if I thought it would give people pleasure; but I have a sort of suspicion, that Aunt Dorothy would rather I didn't!"

"That's imagination," protested Mrs. Hesketh. "Dorothy knows we are badly off for performers, much less stars. It isn't as if this was to be a big public performance; there will only be the village folk that you see every day, the parson, the doctor, and myself. Now, Letty, look me straight in the face and tell me, do you wish to give these poor people a little pleasure? Will you sing? There must be no shilly-shallying--it's yes or no--now."

"Then," lifting her laughing eyes, "yes."

"That's right. Just go over to my writing-table and write a note to Mr. Denton, and tell him that you will sing two songs with pleasure--you can drop it at the Rectory as you pass by."

Letty rose and did as she was told, with her usual docile obedience, and presently returned with a note in her hand.

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