Part 6 (1/2)
”Papa says he will send me home to England to school for a year or two, after I am done with Mrs Glencairn.”
”And would you like that?”
”No, not at all. Mama would miss me so much, and Selina. But I don't intend to make myself unhappy about it. Very likely papa may forget all about it again.”
”He forgets with ease some things,” said Mr St. Cyr: ”let us hope he may forget this.”
”I should not like to go, because of mama,” repeated Frederica.
”And that is a good reason why you will not come and stay with me. Ah, well! I do not blame you. This is not the place for a bright little flower like you to bloom in. I must still be alone, I suppose.”
”But I will come sometimes and see you, and so will Tessie, if you would like us to do so,” said Frederica, rising to go: ”and I shall certainly come if I fall into any more troubles. You said I was to do so, did you not, Cousin Cyprien?”
”Surely, I shall expect you.”
”And I have come already with these tiresome papers. And ah! I had forgotten. There were several things I wished to say about them.”
”You need not say them,” said Mr St. Cyr: ”I shall understand them perfectly, I do not doubt, and they shall not trouble you any more, nor your mama either. I only wish all her troubles could be as easily ended as these shall be.”
”But, Mr St. Cyr,” said Frederica, pausing at the door, and growing very red, ”mama does not wish that you should pay these things. Has not mama enough of money?”
”a.s.suredly, she has ample means. I have no thought of paying these debts. Do not alarm yourself.”
”You are not angry with me, are you, Cousin Cyprien?” asked Frederica, wistfully.
”Angry! By no means, my little cousin. Why should I be angry? And now, remember you are to come again, you and your sister. Ah! how bright the suns.h.i.+ne is!” added he, as he opened the door.
Yes, it was almost dazzling at first, after the dimness within.
Frederica walked slowly home, not able, even in the bright suns.h.i.+ne, to shake _off_ the quieting influence of the old man's solitary home.
”I wonder why it seemed so strange?” said she to herself, ”it must have been the silence. I wonder if any other voice is ever heard in that room. He must have visitors. And mama used to go there when she was a little girl, with grandpapa, I suppose. If I were to do anything wrong, or were afraid of an enemy, I think I would go there to hide myself.
But to live there always!--no, I could not do that; it is too silent and sad.”
”Mama,” she asked that night when she had told them of her visit, ”was it always so still and gloomy at Cousin Cyprien's when you used to go there? Was he always alone in those days?”
”I do not remember it as gloomy or silent. Mr St. Cyr's mother lived there then, and there were a great many beautiful things in the house.
His brother was there too sometimes, but he was not a cheerful person.”
”There are beautiful things there now. The cabinet is full of them, and there are the pictures on the walls,” and she went on to name other things she had seen: ”but still I wonder that he can content himself there, it is so solitary and silent.”
”Mama,” said Tessie, ”I don't think it says much for Fred's good sense that she should talk in that way about Mr St. Cyr and his home. Very likely there are crowds of visitors there every night, though there was no one there then.” Frederica shook her head. ”No, you would not say so if you went there. Only very old people or shadows could ever be content there.”
”Mama, listen to her! Is she sensible?”
”Well, perhaps it is foolish,” said Frederica candidly. ”But all the same I cannot help being sorry for Cousin Cyprien. What does he take pleasure in, mama?”
”My dear, a man like Mr St. Cyr has many sources of interest and pleasure that a young girl like you cannot be supposed to know anything about, or even to understand, if you knew them. I do not think he needs your pity or sympathy very much. He is very religious, I believe.”
”And religion is enough to content some people,” said Tessie flippantly.