"I wish to see you," continued the Bishop, "partly to tell you how much I honour you for the step you have taken. I wish there were more who would understand the true uprightness and dutifulness of thinking no shame of an honest employment. I am afraid you do sometimes meet with what may be trying," he added, no doubt remembering Lady Price"s tone.
"I do not care now, not much. I did at first," said Felix.
"No one whose approval is worth having can consider yours really a loss of position. You are in a profession every one respects, and you seem to have great means of influence likely to be open to you."
"So my father said, when he consented," said Felix.
"I shall always regret having just missed knowing your father. Some pa.s.sages in that book of his struck me greatly. But what I wished to say was to ask whether there is any way in which I can be useful to you in the education of any of the younger ones, or--"
"Thank you, my Lord," said Felix. "I think you kindly voted for my brothers last year for the Clergy Orphan school. Only one got in, and if you would vote again for little Lancelot--"
"My droll little companion, who Mr. Audley tells me did so much for that poor young American."
"Indeed he did," said Felix. "I doubt if any of us would have got at him but for Lance, who did not mean anything but good-nature all the time."
"He is just the boy I want for our Cathedral school." And then he went on to explain that a great reformation was going on. There was a foundation-school attached to the Cathedral, with exhibitions at the University, to which the Cathedral choristers had the first claim.
There had been, of course, a period of decay, but an excellent Precentor had been just appointed, who would act as head master; and the singing-boys would be kept on free of expense after their voices became unavailable, provided that by such time they had pa.s.sed a certain examination. Such a voice as Lance"s was sure to recommend him; and besides, the Bishop said with a smile, he wanted to raise the character of the school, and he thought there was the stuff here that would do so.
Felix could only be thankful and rejoiced; but it was a pang to think of Lance being as entirely separated from home as was Clement; with no regular holidays, and always most needed at his post at the great festivals. There was something in his tone that made the Bishop say, "You do not like to part with him?"
"No, my Lord; but I am glad it should be so. My father was not happy about--things here, and charged me to get my brothers away when I could."
"And as to holidays, you are near at hand, and most of the choir are of our own town. I think he may generally be spared for a good term at each holiday time. The organist is very considerate in giving leave of absence, even if he should turn out to have a dangerously good voice for solos. I will let you know when to send him up for examination, which he will pa.s.s easily. Good-bye. You must write to me if there is anything for me to do for you. One month more, and your father would have been one of my clergy, remember."
Felix went back, flushed with gratification, and yet, to a certain degree, with confusion, and not exactly liking the prospect of being interrogated as to what the Bishop had said to him: indeed, he never told the whole of it to any one but Cherry. Somehow, though Wilmet was his counsellor and mainstay, Geraldine was the sharer of all those confidences that came spontaneously out of the full but reserved heart.
Besides, Wilmet was at present in such a trance of enjoyment of her twin sister, that she seemed scarcely able to enter into anything else. She went through her duties as usual, but with an effort to shake off her absorption in the thought of having Alda at home; and every moment she was not in sight of her darling seemed a cruel diminution of her one poor fortnight. Indeed it was tete-a-tetes that her exclusive tenderness craved above all; and she was often disappointed that Alda should be willing to go and visit Fernan Travis when they might have had a quarter of an hour together alone.
How much more selfish she must have grown than Alda in this last half year!
Alda"s talk was indeed full of interest, and gave a much better notion of her way of life than her letters did. She seemed to have been fully adopted as a daughter of the house, and to enjoy all the same privileges as Marilda; indeed, she had a good deal more credit with all varieties of teachers, since she learnt rapidly and eagerly; and Marilda, while encouraging her successes, without a shade of jealousy, made no attempt to conquer her own clumsiness and tardiness. Even "Aunt Mary," as Alda called Mrs. Thomas Underwood, often had recourse to Alda for sympathy in her endeavours to be tasteful, and continually held her up as an example to Marilda.
"And poor dear good woman," said Alda, "she has such a respect for Underwood breeding and our education, that I believe I could persuade her into anything by telling her it was what she calls "comifo."
Even when she was going to get the boudoir done with apple-green picked out with mauve, enough to set one"s teeth on edge, and Marilda would do nothing but laugh, she let me persuade her into a lovely pale sea-green."
"Is not sea-green too delicate for her?" asked Cherry.
"Why, it was very wicked of Edgar, to be sure, but he said that it was to suit the nymph reining in the porpoises. He made a sketch, and Marilda was delighted with it; she really is the most good-natured creature in the world."
"She must be!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Wilmet; "but surely she ought not to like laughing at her mother."
"Oh, everybody laughs at Aunt Mary, and she hardly ever finds it out, and when she does, she does not mind! Even old Mrs. Kedge, her mother, does nothing but laugh at her for trying to be fine. Old Granny is not a bit by way of being a lady, you know; she lives in a little house in the city with one maid, and I believe she rubs her own tables. I am sure she goes about in omnibuses, though she has lots of money; and Marilda is so fond of her, and so like her, only not so clever and shrewd."
"But why does she live in such a small way?"
"Because she never was used to anything else, and does not like it.
She hates grand servants, and never will come to Kensington Palace Gardens; but she really is good-natured. She told Clement to drop in on her whenever he likes, and bring any of his friends; and she always gives them a superb piece of plum-cake, and once she took them to the Tower, and once to the Zoological Gardens, for she thinks that she cannot do enough to make up to them for being bred up to be little monks, with cords and sandals, and everything popish."
"You don"t let her think so?"
"Well, really when she has got a thing into her head nothing will uproot it; and, after all, they do carry things very far there, and Clement goes on so that I don"t wonder."
"Goes on how?"
"Why, just fancy, the other day when Uncle Thomas fetched him in his brougham because I was coming home, there he sat at luncheon and would not eat a sc.r.a.p of meat."
"Ah! it was a Wednesday in Lent," said Cherry.
"Only a Wednesday, you know; and _there_, with four or five strange people, too. One of them asked if he was a Catholic, and of course Clement looked very wise, and greatly pleased, and said, "Yes, he was;" and that brought down Aunt Mary with her heavy artillery.
"Bless me, Clement, you don"t say so. Is Mr. Fulmort really gone over?" "Yes," said Clem. (I know he did it on purpose.) "He is gone over to preach at St. Peter"s." And then one of the gentlemen asked if Clem meant Mr. Fulmort of St. Matthew"s, Whittingtonia, and when he said "Yes, he lived in the clergy house," he began regularly to play him off, asking the most absurd questions about fasts and feasts and vigils and decorations, and Clem answered them all in his prim little self-sufficient way, just as if he thought he was on the high- road to be St. Clement the Martyr, till I was ready to run away."
"Couldn"t you have given him a hint?" asked Wilmet.
"My dear, have you lived twelve years with Clem without knowing that hints are lost on him?"
"Dear Clem, he is a very good steady-hearted little fellow," said Cherry. "It was very nice of him."
"Well, I only hope he"ll never come to luncheon again in Lent. There are times and seasons for everything, and certainly not for display!
And to make it worse, Marilda is the most literal-minded girl.
Fasting was quite a new mind to her, for she never realises what she does not see; and she got Clem into a corner, where I heard him going on, nothing loth, about days of abstinence, out of Mr. Fulmort"s last catechising, I should think; and ended by asking what Cousin Edward did, so that I fully expected that I should find her eating nothing, and that I should be called to account."
"And what did you tell her then?"
"Oh, you know I could say quite truly that he did not."
"I don"t think that was quite fair," said Wilmet gravely. "You know it was only because he really could not."
"You don"t know how glad I was to have an answer that would hinder the horrid commotion we should have had if Marilda had taken to fasting. And, after all, you know, Papa would have said minding her mother was her first duty."
"Why did not you tell her that?"
"I have, dozens of times; but you know there are mothers and mothers, and n.o.body can always mind Aunt Mary, good soul! Marilda has just made herself, with her own good rough plain sense. I wish she was a man; she would be a capital merchant like her father; but it is hard to be a great heiress, with nothing she really likes to do. She is always longing to come down to Centry, and tramp about the lanes among the cottages."
"Oh! I wish they would!"
"I don"t think Aunt Mary will ever let them, she hates the country; and though she likes to have a place for the name of the thing, she does not want to live there, especially where there are so many of us; and then, Felix"s situation!"
"For shame, Alda!"
"Well, I did not say anything myself. It is only Aunt Mary--it is very foolish of people, but, you see, they _will_. As to Marilda, I believe she would like to stand behind the counter with him this minute."
"Marilda is the oddest and best girl I ever heard of!"
"You may say that. And so ignorant she was! She had a great velvet- and-gold Church Service, and hardly guessed there was any Bible or Prayer-Book besides. I am sure Felix cannot have had more work to teach that youth than I have had with Marilda. Such a jumble as she had picked up! She really had only little baby prayers to say, till she saw my book."
"What a blessing you must be to her!" said Wilmet, fondly looking at her sister.
"Well, I do hope so. You must know she was regularly struck with dear Papa. I am sure he is the first saint in her calendar, and everything is--"What did Cousin Edward say?" And when once she has made up her mind that a thing is right, she will blunder on through fire and water, but she will do it."
"Then," said Cherry, "she ought to try and learn, and not to be awkward because of obedience."