"Yes, Miss Janet," said Claudia dutifully, taking the large envelope and slipping it into her coat pocket.
"Post it to-morrow," urged Miss Janet, as she dismissed her pupil from the study.
The advent of Easter saw Rosemary again at Porthkeverne. She not only returned for the holidays, but "came back for good". The secret which had haunted and puzzled Lorraine since Christmas was out at last.
Rosemary had written home and told the plain, unvarnished, brutal truth.
"Signor Arezzo says it"s no use my going on. He"ll never be able to make anything of my voice. I"ve been at the Coll. two terms, and tried my best, but he says it"s futile--I"m only fit to warble in a small drawing-room to friends who are not over-critical, and it"s a waste of money to stop on here!"
This was indeed a blow. It was a very crushed, disappointed, miserable little Rosemary who returned to the bosom of her bewildered family. At first they would not believe the severe decision, and pa.s.sed through the stages of denial, indignation, and annoyance to realization and resignation. It is so very humiliating to find out that your swan, about whom you have cackled so proudly, turns out to be only an ordinary, domestic, farm-yard bird after all.
Evidently the first thing to be done was to comfort Rosemary. She needed it badly. She went about the house a pathetic little figure, with big wistful eyes.
"I"m heart-broken, Muvvie!" she sobbed in confidence.
"Never mind, darling; we want you at home if they don"t want you at the College! You can go in for V.A.D. work, and help at the Red Cross Hospital. It"s delightful for me to have my daughter back. You don"t know how I shall appreciate your company!"
"But I feel I"m such a failure!"
"Not at all! You simply haven"t slipped into your right niche yet.
People sometimes make bad shots before they find their vocations. Cheer up! Your singing is a great pleasure to us, if it"s not fit for a concert platform."
"I never want to sing another note in all my life!" declared Rosemary.
Little by little details of the tragedy leaked out. Lorraine heard many of them, sitting on her sister"s bed, while Rosemary ruefully unpacked the boxes of music and the tea-things and all the other treasured trifles she had taken to the College.
"He says I haven"t the physique for a singer. I"ve not got enough "puff"
in my lungs. You should see Maudie Canning, his favourite pupil. She has the most enormous chest, and such a throat! Just look at mine!"
(Rosemary was examining herself in the gla.s.s as she spoke.) "It stands to reason, if an organ hasn"t proper pipes and bellows, it can"t sound.
You want such a big voice to fill a concert-hall."
"But couldn"t you go on with music just for yourself?"
"Signor Arezzo doesn"t care to bother with amateurs. His time is so valuable that he gives it all to promising students only. No, I"ve quite made up my mind never to sing again! Don"t argue with me! It"s no use, and only makes me feel irritable. I tell you I"m heart-broken!"
It was terrible to have Rosemary in such a disconsolate mood. It seemed to throw a blight over the whole family. Lorraine was immensely concerned. In her trouble she turned instinctively to the studio by the harbour. Margaret Lindsay, who herself had weathered many troubles, was an expert in the art of comfort.
"Rosemary"s heart is broken!" said Lorraine tragically, sitting on the window-seat in the sunshine, and squeezing her friend"s arm.
"Poor child! Tell her that some of the best things in the world have been done on broken hearts! She"s very young yet, and I"m sure she"s wanted at home."
"That"s what Mother says."
"And perhaps she mightn"t have liked public singing. It isn"t all applause and bouquets. I know several professionals, and they talk of long, weary railway journeys, and uncomfortable hotels, and many disagreeables that show a very shady lining to the life. Somehow I can far more easily fancy little Rosemary happily married and settled down in a home of her own, than touring about to concerts. You mustn"t let her give up her singing! She"ll make a most delightful amateur."
"She scorns the word "amateur"."
"She"s feeling sore at present, but she"ll get over that stage, I hope.
I"m not sure if an amateur hasn"t infinitely the best of it. I often wish I were an amateur artist. You skim the cream in the matter of enjoyment, without any of the responsibility. In six months I hope Rosemary will think differently, and will be the star of the musical parties at Porthkeverne, if she can"t shine on the stage."
"It"s a come-down for her, all the same," groaned Lorraine. "I wish she could marry a duke! But no dukes ever come to Porthkeverne. Perhaps she won"t marry at all. Some of the nicest people I know haven"t married."
Margaret Lindsay looked out far away over the dancing, gleaming water before she answered; Lorraine could not see the shadow in her eyes.
"Sometimes it"s the person whom you _don"t_ marry whom you love the most: the beautiful ideal is never shattered by the actual--it stays up in the clouds always, instead of trailing down to earth."
Lorraine was lost in contemplation of her sister"s future prospects.
"If she doesn"t marry, she"ll have to brace up and go in for some other vocation," she decided. "Miss Kingsley says one ought to look years ahead, but somehow I can"t imagine Rosemary ever being middle-aged."
"It"s an art to grow grey gracefully," smiled Margaret Lindsay.
CHAPTER XIV
What Happened at Easter
In spite of her real concern for Rosemary"s disappointment, Lorraine enjoyed the Easter holidays. There was much to be done in them. Morland and Claudia were anxious to revisit the Sea-Nymph"s Grotto, which had been neglected during the winter, so with Landry in attendance they chose a fine day, and had another delightful picnic there. Fortunately the tides had not reached as high as the mouth of the cave, and their "furniture" was undisturbed; even the sh.e.l.l patterns remained as formerly, though the sea-weed was brown and shrivelled. That was a matter easily remedied, however, for the rock pools below were full of pink and green algae, and corallines beautiful enough for a mermaid"s bouquet.
"It would be a ripping place for a hermit," said Morland. "I expect it beats a dug-out hollow. I shall often think of it when I"m called up!"
"Me go to the war too!" said Landry suddenly.
He spoke so seldom that Claudia turned in surprise.
"No, Landry, dear, I couldn"t spare you."
"But Morland"s going!"
"All the more reason why you should stay at home and take care of me."
"Me want to be with you _both_," said Landry fretfully.
"But that can"t be. The Government will send papers, and then Morland will have to go."
There was trouble in the boy"s blue eyes; his poor dull brain seemed to be making a supreme effort to understand. He spoke again, still in the language of a little child.
"Landry will take the nasty papers and hide them, and then Morland stay at home."
"No, no, dear! Landry couldn"t do that," laughed Claudia, fondling his hand. "You must be my good boy and look after me when he"s gone."
Landry relapsed once more into his habitual silence, but it was evident that a new and unusual access of thought was stirring in his feeble mind. He kept looking at Morland with awakened interest. Lorraine, watching, wondered what was the result of his cogitations. His own sister and brother, accustomed to his moods, took no more notice of an occurrence that seemed trivial at the moment, but afterwards bore unexpected fruit.
"When we"ve made the cave so nice, it seems almost a pity to keep it _quite_ to ourselves," suggested Morland after a pause.
"Why, but we all pledged ourselves to absolute secrecy!"