Richard smiled grimly. "You had better ask him; he is looked upon in the light of a sucking barrister, but he is nothing but a dabbler in art at present; he has been under a hedge most of the morning, taking the portrait of a tramp that he chose to consider picturesque. Where is your Zingara, Roy?" But Roy chose to be deaf, and went on eagerly with his plans for the afternoon"s excursion to Podgill.
Mildred watched the party set out, Polly and Chriss in their broad-brimmed hats, and Roy with a sketch-book under his arm. Richard was going over to Nateby with his father. Olive looked after them longingly.
"My dear, are you not going too? it will do you good; and I am sure you have a headache."
"Oh, it is nothing," returned Olive, putting her hair back with her hands; "it is so warm this afternoon, and----"
"And you were up late last night," continued Mildred in a sympathising voice.
"Not later than usual. I often work when the others go to bed; it does not hurt me," she finished hastily, as a dissenting glance from Mildred met her. "Indeed, I am quite strong, and able to bear much more."
"We must not work the willing horse, then. Come, my dear, put on your hat; or let me fetch it for you, and we will overtake the Podgill party."
"Oh no," returned Olive, shrinking back, and colouring nervously. "You may go, aunt; but Rex does not want me, or Chriss either; n.o.body wants me--and I have so much work to do."
"What sort of work, mending?"
"Yes, all the socks and things. I try to keep them under, but there is a basketful still. Roy and Chriss are so careless, and wear out their things; and then you heard Richard say he could not trust me with his."
"Richard is particular; many young men are. You must not be so sensitive, Olive. Well, my dear, I shall be very glad of your help, of course; but these things will be my business now."
Olive contracted her brow in a puzzled way. "I do not understand."
"Not that I have come to be your father"s housekeeper, and to save your young shoulders from being quite weighed down with burdens too heavy for them? There, come into my room, and let us talk this matter over at our leisure. Our fingers can be busy at the same time;" and drawing the girl gently to a low seat by the open window, Mildred placed herself beside her, and was soon absorbed in the difficulties of a formidable rent.
"You must be tired too, aunt," observed Olive presently, with an admiring glance at the erect figure and nimble fingers.
"Not too tired to listen if you have anything to tell me," returned Mildred with a winning smile. "I want to hear where all those books were going this morning, and why Chriss was running on empty-handed."
"Chriss does not like carrying things, and I don"t mind," replied Olive.
"We go every morning, and in the afternoon too when we are able, to study with Mrs. Cranford; she is so nice and clever. She is a Frenchwoman, and has lived in Germany half her life; only she married an Englishman."
"And you study with her?"
"Yes, Dr. Heriot recommended her; she was a great friend of his, and after her husband"s death--he was a lawyer here--she was obliged to do something to maintain herself and her three little girls, so Dr. Heriot proposed her opening a sort of school; not a regular one, you know, but just morning and afternoon cla.s.ses for a few girls."
"Have you many companions?"
"No; only Gertrude Sadler and the two Misses Northcote. Polly is to join us, I believe."
"So her guardian says. I hope, you like our young _protegee_ Olive."
"I shall not dislike her, at least, for one reason," and as Mildred looked up in surprise, she added more graciously, "I mean we are all so fond of Dr. Heriot that we will try to like her for his sake."
"Polly deserves to be loved for her own sake," replied Mildred, somewhat piqued at Olive"s coldness. "I was wrong to ask you such a question. Of course you cannot judge of any one in so short a time."
"Oh, it is not that," returned Olive, eager, and yet stammering. "I am afraid I am slow to like people always, and Polly seems so bright and clever, that I am sure never to get on with her."
"My dear Olive, you must not allow yourself to form such morbid ideas.
Polly is very original, and will charm you into liking her, before many days are over; even our fastidious Richard shows signs of relenting."
"Oh, but he will never care for her as Roy seems to do already. Cardie cares for so few people; you don"t half know how particular he is, and how soon he is offended; nothing but perfection will ever please him,"
she finished with a sigh.
"We must not be too hard in our estimate of other people. I am half inclined to find fault with Richard myself in this respect; he does not make sufficient allowance for a very young housekeeper," laying her hand softly on Olive"s dark hair; and as the girl looked up at her quickly, surprised by the caressing action, Mildred noticed, for the first time, the bright intelligence of the brown eyes.
"Oh, you must not say that," she returned, colouring painfully. "Cardie is very good, and helps me as much as he can; but you see he was so used to seeing mamma do everything so beautifully."
"It is not worse for Richard than for the others."
"Oh yes, it is; she made so much of him, and they were always together.
Roy feels it dreadfully; but he is light-hearted, and forgets it at times. I don"t think Cardie ever does."
"How do you know; does he tell you so?" asked Mildred, with kindly scrutiny.
Olive shook her head mournfully. "No, he never talks to me, at least in that way; but I know it all the same; one can tell it by his silence and pained look. It makes him irritable too. Roy has terrible breaks-down sometimes, and so has Chriss; but no one knows what Cardie suffers."
Mildred dropped her work, and regarded the young speaker attentively.
There was womanly thoughtfulness, and an underlying tenderness in the words of this girl of fifteen; under the timid reserve there evidently beat a warm, affectionate heart. For a moment Mildred scanned the awkward hunching of the shoulders, the slovenly dress and hair, and the plain, cloudy face, so slow to beam into anything like a smile; Olive"s normal expression seemed a heavy, anxious look, that furrowed her brow with unnatural lines, and made her appear years older than her actual age; the want of elasticity and the somewhat slouching gait confirming this impression.
"If she were not so plain; if she would only dress and hold herself like other people, and be a little less awkward," sighed Mildred. "No wonder Richard"s fastidiousness is so often offended; but his continual fault-finding makes her worse. She is too humble-minded to defend herself, and too generous to resent his interference. If I do not mistake, this girl has a fine nature, though it is one that is difficult to understand; but to think of this being Betha"s daughter!" and a vision rose before Mildred of the slight, graceful figure and active movements of the bright young house-mother, so strangely contrasted with Olive"s clumsy gestures.
The silence was unbroken for a little time, and then Olive raised her head. "I think I must go down now, the others will be coming in. It has been a nice quiet time, and has done my head good; but," a little plaintively, "I am afraid I have not done much work."
Mildred laughed. "Why not? you have not looked out of the window half so often as I have. I suppose you are too used to all that purple loveliness; your eyes have not played truant once."
"Yes, it is very beautiful; but one seems to have no time now to enjoy,"
sighed the poor drudge. "You work so fast, aunt; your fingers fly. I shall always be awkward at my needle; mamma said so."
"It is a pity, of course; but perhaps your talents lie in another direction," returned her aunt, gravely. "You must not lose heart, Olive.
It is possible to acquire ordinary skill by persevering effort."
"If one had leisure to learn--I mean to take pains. But look, how little I have done all this afternoon." Olive looked so earnest and lugubrious that Mildred bit her lip to keep in the amused smile.
"My dear," she returned quaintly, "there is a sin not mentioned in the Decalogue, but which is a very common one among women, nevertheless, "the l.u.s.t of finishing." We ought to love work for the work"s sake, and leave results more than we do. Over-hurry and too great anxiety for completion has a great deal to do with the overwrought nerves of which people complain nowadays. "In quietness and in confidence shall be your strength.""
Olive looked up with something like tears in her eyes. "Oh, aunt, how beautiful. I never thought of that."
"Did you not? I will illuminate the text for you and hang it in your room. So much depends on the quietness we bring to our work; without being exactly miserly with our eyes and hands, as you have been this afternoon, one can do so much with a little wise planning of our time, always taking care not to resent interference by others. You will think I deal in proverbial philosophy, if I give you another maxim, "Man"s importunity is G.o.d"s opportunity.""
"I will always try to remember that when Chriss interrupts me, as she does continually," answered Olive, thoughtfully. "People say there are no such things as conflicting duties, but I have often such hard work to decide--which is the right thing to be done."
"I will give you an infallible guide then: choose that which seems hardest, or most disagreeable; consciences are slippery things; they always give us such good reasons for pleasing ourselves."
"I don"t think that would answer with me," returned Olive doubtfully.
"There are so many things I do not like, the disagreeable duties quite fill one"s day. I like hearing you talk very much, aunt. But there is Cardie"s voice, and he will be disappointed not to find the tea ready when he comes in from church."
"Then I will not detain you another moment; but you must promise me one thing."