Part 4 (1/2)
Algitha's eyes glittered, and her colour rose.
”I am not going to be hawked about the county till I am disposed of. It does not console me in the least, that _all_ the foxes are without tails,” she went on, taking short cuts to her meaning, in her excitement. ”I am going to London with Mrs. Trevelyan, to help her in her work.”
”By _Jove_!” exclaimed Fred. Ernest whistled. Austin stared, with open mouth.
Having recovered from the first shock of surprise, the family plied their sister with questions. She said that she had long been thinking of accepting the post offered her by Mrs. Trevelyan last year, and now she was resolved. The work was really wise, useful work among the poor, which Algitha felt she could do well. At home, there was nothing that she did that the housekeeper could not do better. She felt herself fretting and growing irritable, for mere want of some active employment.
This was utterly absurd, in an overworked world. Hadria had her music and her study, at any rate, but Algitha had nothing that seemed worth doing; she did not care to paint indifferently on china; she was a mere enc.u.mbrance--a destroyer, as Hadria put it--while there was so much, so very much, that waited to be done. The younger sister made no comment.
”Next time I meet Harold Wilkins,” said Fred, drawing a long breath, ”I will tell him that if a girl does not marry, she can devote herself to the poor.”
”Or that she can remain to be the family consolation, eh, Hadria? By Jove, what a row there will be!”
The notion of Hadria in the capacity of the family consolation, created a shout of laughter. It had always been her function to upset foregone conclusions, overturn orthodox views, and generally disturb the conformity of the family att.i.tude. Now the sedate and established qualities would be expected of her. Hadria must be the stay and hope of the house!
Fred continued to chuckle, at intervals, over the idea.
”It _does_ seem to indicate rather a broken-down family!” said Ernest.
”I wish one of you boys would undertake the position instead of laughing at _me_,” exclaimed Hadria in mock resentment. ”I wish _you_ would go to eternal tennis-parties, and pay calls, and bills, and write notes, and do little useless necessary things, more or less all day. I wish _you_ had before you the choice between that existence and the career of Mrs.
Gordon, with the sole chance of escape from either fate, in ruthlessly trampling upon the bleeding hearts of two beloved parents!”
”Thank you kindly,” said Fred, ”but we infinitely prefer to laugh at you.”
”Man's eternal reply to woman, admirably paraphrased!” commented Hadria.
Everyone was anxious to know when Algitha intended to go to London.
n.o.body doubted for a moment that she would hold to her purpose; as Fred said, she was so ”beastly obstinate.”
Algitha had not fixed any time. It would depend on her mother. She wished to make things as little painful as possible. That it was her duty to spare her pain altogether by remaining at home, Algitha refused to admit. She and Hadria had thought out the question from all sides.
The work she was going to do was useful, but she did not justify herself on that ground. She claimed the right to her life and her liberty, apart from what she intended to do with either. She owed it to her own conscience alone to make good use of her liberty. ”I don't want to pose as a philanthropist,” she added, ”though I honestly do desire to be of service. I want to spread my wings. And why should I not? n.o.body turns pale when Ernest wants to spread _his_. How do I know what life is like, or how best to use it, if I remain satisfied with my present ignorance?
How can I even appreciate what I possess, if I have nothing to compare it with? Of course, the truly nice and womanly thing to do, is to remain at home, waiting to be married. I have elected to be _un_womanly.”
”I wonder how all this will turn out,” said Ernest, ”whether you won't regret it some day when it is too late.”
”Don't people _always_ regret what they do--some day?” asked Hadria.
”Perhaps so, especially if they do it sooner than other people.”
”When are you going to make the announcement at head quarters?” asked Fred.
There was a pause. The colour had left Algitha's cheeks. She answered at length with an effort--
”I shall speak to mother to-day.”
CHAPTER IV.
Mrs. Fullerton had gone to the study, to consult with her husband on some matter of domestic importance. It was a long, low-pitched room, situated in the part of the house that stood at right angles to the central block, with long, narrow windows looking on to a rough orchard.
A few old portraits, very yellow and somewhat grotesque, hung on the walls; a wood fire burnt on the hob-grate, and beside it stood a vast arm chair, considerably worn, with depressions shewing where its owner had been leaning his head, day after day, when he smoked his pipe, or took his after-dinner nap. The bookshelves were stocked with scientific works, and some volumes on philosophy of a materialistic character. With the exception of Robert Burns, not one poet was represented.