Part 6 (2/2)

Miss Briggs looked at the younger girls. ”Go upstairs, dears, and change your dresses for dinner. I want to speak to Hilary by herself,”

she said quietly, and Lettice and Norah left the room with awed faces.

The kind old governess did not often interfere with the girls now that they were growing up, but when she did, there was a directness about her speech which was very telling, and this afternoon was no exception to the rule.

”Hilary,” she said slowly, when the door had closed behind the two younger girls, ”I have been with you now for ten years, and have watched you grow up from a little girl. You were my first pupil, and I can't help taking a special interest in you. You were a dear little child. I thought you would grow up into a sweet, lovable woman; but you will have to change a great deal, Hilary, if you are to do that! You will think me cruel; but your mother is dead, and I must be truthful with you for your own good. I think you have behaved very unkindly to your sisters to-day. You have been away enjoying yourself while they were left at home; they did their best to fill your place, and counted the days until your return, and you have made them miserable from the moment of your arrival. The house is as you left it; but even supposing you had noticed a few things which were not to your taste, you could have put them right quietly, or spoken of them in a pleasant, kindly manner.

Things have gone on smoothly and quietly while you were away--more smoothly than when you are at home, my dear, for though Lettice is not such a good manager, she has a sweet, amiable manner which makes the servants anxious to please her by doing their best. You are very young, Hilary, and you make the mistake of over-estimating your own importance, and of thinking you are necessary to the welfare of the household. You can easily make yourself so, if you wish, for you are a very clever housekeeper; but if you continue to be as self-satisfied and as regardless of the feelings of others as you are at present, I tell you plainly that you will end in being a hindrance rather than a help. I am not saying that the other girls are faultless, but instead of setting them a good example, in nine cases out of ten you are the one to begin a quarrel. You think me very cruel to speak like this--it's not easy to do, Hilary--but you may thank me for it some day. Open your eyes, my dear, and try to see yourself as you really are, before it is too late!”

Miss Briggs swept from the room in a flutter of agitation, and Hilary sank into the nearest chair, and gazed blankly at the fire. Her heart was beating in heavy thuds, and she put her hand to her head in stupefied fas.h.i.+on. For several minutes she sat motionless, unable to form any definite thought. She only felt a curious shattered sensation, as though she had come through some devastating experience, which had laid waste all her fondest delusions. _What_ had Miss Briggs said?

That the household arrangements had been managed _better_ in her absence than when she was at home. That if she did not alter, she would end in being a hindrance rather than a help. That she set a bad example to the younger girls and was the instigator of quarrels!--Hilary's cheeks burnt with a flush that was almost painful. Her pride was wounded in its most sensitive point. She would have been ready enough to acknowledge that she was not so sweet-tempered as Lettice, or so clever as Norah, but she had been secure in her conviction that no one could touch her in her own department--that she was a person of supreme importance, without whom the whole fabric of the household would fall to pieces. And things had gone on _better_ while she was away! _Better_! Hilary writhed in humiliation, and the flush burnt more fiercely than before. If she could only manage to disbelieve it all, and wave it aside as a piece of foolish prejudice; but she could not do this, for her eyes were opened, and she saw the meaning of many things which she had misread before.

Miss Carr's quizzical, disapproving glance; her father's anxious gaze; the little scornful sniff on the face of the old cook as she took her morning's orders. Could it be that they all felt the same, and were condemning her in their hearts as a stupid, consequential little girl, who had no importance whatever except in her own estimation? And--”_a hindrance_!” The word brought with it a throb of something deeper than wounded pride, for, with all her faults, Hilary was devoted to her father and her brothers and sisters, and the thought stung like a whip that they might not care for her--that the time could come when they might even wish for her absence!

The light was growing dim in the deserted room, and, as Hilary laid her head back in the old-fas.h.i.+oned chair, the tears which rose to her eyes and trickled down her cheeks were the bitterest she had known in the course of her short life.

CHAPTER NINE.

THE VIOLIN LESSON.

Three days after Mr Bertrand's return, Rex Freer arrived at the house in a state of triumphant excitement. This was by no means his first appearance since he had left Cloudsdale, for he never pa.s.sed the house on any of his numerous expeditions without running in for ten minutes'

chat, so that the girls were getting accustomed to see his head appear at the window as they sat at work, or to hear the loud rat-tat on the door which heralded his coming. They soon had practical demonstration of his ”managing powers,” for more than once, after definitely making up their minds that nothing would induce them to stir from the house, they found themselves meekly putting on hats and jackets to join a tobogganing party, and to accompany the young gentleman part of his way home. Lettice was always easily influenced, but high-spirited Norah made many protests against what she was pleased to call his ”Indian ways,” and on one occasion even went so far as to dare a direct refusal.

Lettice had left the room to get ready for a walk along the snowy lanes, but Miss Norah sat obstinately in her chair, the heel of one slipper perched on the toe of the other, in an att.i.tude which was a triumph of defiance.

”Well!” said Mr Rex, putting his hands in his pockets, and standing with his back to the fire in elderly gentleman fas.h.i.+on. ”Why don't you get on your coat? I can't wait many minutes, you know, or it will get dark. Hurry up!”

”I'm not going. It's too cold. I don't like trudging over the snow. I am going to stay at home.”

Norah raised her thin, little face to his with an audacious glance, whereat ”the strange boy's” eyes dilated with the steely flash which she knew so well.

”Then please go upstairs and tell Lettice not to trouble to get ready.

I can't allow her to come home alone, along the lonely roads,” he said quietly; and Norah slunk out of the room and put on her snow-shoes in crestfallen silence, for it did Lettice good to have a daily walk, and she could not be so selfish as to keep her at home.

This afternoon, however, the call was longer than usual, for Rex came as the bearer of good news. ”You have only to make up your mind to do anything, and the rest is quite easy,” he announced coolly. ”The mater has made a point of speaking to everyone she has seen about the music lessons, and she has heard of a capital man in Lancaster who is willing to come down for an afternoon once a fortnight. I met your father in the village, and he agrees to the terms, so now there is nothing left but to write and fill in the day to begin. Thursday suits him best. Do you say Thursday first or Thursday fortnight?”

”Oh, the first Thursday. I don't want to wait a day longer than I can help. Oh, how lovely! So it is really settled. I wanted it so badly that I was afraid it would never come true. How am I to get over to your house, I wonder?”

”I'll drive over and bring you back next morning. We might use our bicycles, but the violin case would be rather a nuisance, and I suppose you'll need a bag of some description. I'll be here at eleven, and then we shall get home to lunch. Edna is in a great state of excitement at the thought of seeing you.”

Norah pulled a funny little face of embarra.s.sment. ”I'm rather shy, you know,” she said, laughing. ”I've only seen your mother once, and the other two are absolute strangers; it seems funny to be coming over to stay. Is your father a formidable sort of old gentleman?”

”Humph--well--I think he is rather! He is awfully fond of getting his own way,” said Rex, in a tone which implied that he failed to understand how anyone could be guilty of such a weakness. ”But he is an awfully decent sort if you take him the right way; and poor little Edna would not frighten a mouse. You will feel at home with her in five minutes.

I only wish she knew Lettice. We must arrange for her to come over some time.”

Norah looked at him with a feeling of curiosity which was not altogether agreeable. ”Why do you wish that she knew Lettice! Do you think she would like her better than me?”

”Oh, yes,” said Rex easily. (He was just like other boys, Norah told herself, and had not the slightest regard for a poor girl's feelings!) ”She is such a jolly, affectionate little thing, you know, that Edna would take to her at once. And she has heard so much of 'Lovely Lettice'! I say, _isn't_ she pretty?”

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