"I been thinking things over while you was sick, and I come to the conclusion you was right. I got to have more education. There"s things I just got to know--how to talk nice, and what to wear, and what fork you"d ought to eat with. Forks and things drive me real wild."
"I had thought, at first, of sending you to some particularly fine boarding-school--" he began, but Nancy interrupted him.
"If I was six instead o" sixteen, you might do it. As "t is, I wouldn"t learn nothin" except to hate the girls that"d be turnin"
up their noses at me. No. I don"t want to go to boardin"-school.
I"ve saw music-teachers that come to folks" houses to give lessons, and I been thinkin", why can"t you get me a school-teacher that"ll teach me right at home!"
"As I was saying when interrupted,"--he looked at her reprovingly--"I had at first thought of sending you to some finishing school. I gave up that idea almost at once. I agree with you that it is best you should be taught at home. In fact, I have already engaged the lady who will be your companion as well as your teacher."
"I don"t know as I"m crazy about a lady companion as a steady job,"
said Nancy, doubtfully. She feared to lose her new liberty, to forego the amazing delight of living by herself, so to speak. "But now you"ve done it, I sure hope you"ve picked out somebody _young_.
If I got to have a lady companion, I want she should be young."
"Mr. Vandervelde attended to the matter for me," said Mr. Champneys, in a tone of finality. "He is sure that the lady in question is exactly the person I wish. Mrs. MacGregor is an Englishwoman, the widow of a naval officer. She is in reduced circ.u.mstances, but of irreproachable connections. She has the accomplishments of a lady of her cla.s.s, and her companionship should be an inestimable blessing to you. You will be governed by her authority. She will be here to-morrow."
"A ole widder woman! Good Lord! I--" here she stopped, and gulped.
An expression of resignation came over her countenance. "Oh, all right. You"ve done it an" I"ll make the best of it," she finished, not too graciously.
"It is not proper to refer to a lady as "a ole widder woman"."
"Well, but ain"t she?" And she asked: "What else you know about her?"
"Mr. Vandervelde attended to the matter," he repeated. "He is thoroughly satisfied, and that is enough for me--and for you. I sent for you to inform you that she is to be here to-morrow. See that you receive her pleasantly. Your hours of study and recreation will be arranged by her. She will also overlook your wardrobe. And, I do not wish to hear any complaints."
"I can"t even pick out my own clothes?"
"You lack even the rudiments of good taste."
"What"s wrong with my clothes?" she demanded.
"Everything," said he, succinctly, and with visible irritation. He remembered the wedding-gown, and his face twitched. She watched him intently.
"Oh, all right. I said I"d obey, an" I will. I ain"t forgettin","
said she, wearily.
"Very well. I am glad you understand." He closed his eyes, and understanding that the interview was at an end, Nancy withdrew.
Mrs. MacGregor arrived on the morrow. The attorney had been given explicit orders and instructions by his exacting client, who had his own notions of what a teacher for his niece should and shouldn"t be.
Vandervelde congratulated himself on having been able to meet them so completely in the person of the estimable Mrs. MacGregor.
Mr. Champneys demanded a lady middle-aged but not too middle-aged, not overly handsome, but not overly otherwise; an excellent disciplinarian, of a good family, and with impeccable references.
For the rest, Mrs. MacGregor was a tall, spare, high-nosed lady, with a thin-lipped mouth full of large, sound teeth of a yellowish tinge, and high cheek-bones with a permanent splash of red on them.
Her eyes were frosty, and her light hair was frizzled in front, and worn high on her narrow head. She dressed in plain black silk of good quality, wore her watch at her waist, and on her wrist a large, old-fashioned bracelet in which was set a gla.s.s-covered, lozenge-shaped receptable holding what looked like a wisp of bristles, but which was a bit of the late Captain MacGregor"s hair.
Mr. Champneys had wanted a lady who was a church member. He had a vague idea that if a lady happened to be a church member you were somehow or other protected against her. Mrs. MacGregor was orthodox enough to satisfy the most rigid religionist. Mr. Champneys gathered that she believed in G.o.d the father, G.o.d the son, and G.o.d the Holy Ghost, three in One, and that One a dependable gentleman beautifully British, who dutifully protected the king, fraternally respected the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Prime Minister, and was heartily in favor of the British Const.i.tution. Naturally, being a devout woman, she agreed with Deity.
An American family domiciled for a while in England had secured her services as companion to an elderly aunt of theirs, fetching her along with them, on their return to America. The aunt had been a family torment until the advent of Mrs. MacGregor, but in the hands of that disciplinarian she had become a mild-mannered old body. On her demise the grateful family settled a small annuity upon her whom they couldn"t help recognizing as their benefactor. Finding Americans so grateful, Mrs. MacGregor decided to remain among them and with her recommendations secure another position of trust in some wealthy family. This, then, was the teacher selected by Mr.
Jason Vandervelde, who thought her just what Mr. Champneys wanted and his ward probably needed.
Mrs. MacGregor never really liked anybody, but she could respect certain persons highly; she respected Mr. Chadwick Champneys at sight. His name, his appearance, the fact that Jason Vandervelde was acting for him, convinced her that he was "quite the right sort"--for an American. She was as gracious to him as nature permitted her to be to anybody. And the salary was very good indeed.
It was only when Nancy put in her appearance that Mrs. MacGregor"s satisfaction withered around the edges. The red on her high cheeks deepened, and she fixed upon her new pupil a cold, appraising stare.
She made no slightest attempt to ingratiate herself; that wasn"t her way; what she demanded, she often said, was Respect. The impossible young person who was staring back at her with hostile curiosity wasn"t overcome with Respect. The two did not love each other.
Strict disciplinarian though she might be where others were concerned, Mrs. MacGregor treated herself with lenient consideration. She was selfish with a fine, Christian zeal that moved Nancy to admiring wonder. Nancy"s own selfishness had been superimposed upon her by untoward circ.u.mstances. This woman"s selfishness was a part of her nature, carefully cultivated. She believed her body to be the temple of the Holy Ghost, and she made herself exceedingly comfortable in the building, quite as if the Holy Ghost were an obliging absentee landlord. Nancy observed, too, that although the servants did not like her, they obeyed her without question. She got without noise what she wanted.
But she really could teach. Almost from the first lesson, Nancy began to learn, the pure hatred she felt for her instructress adding rather than detracting from her progress. Had the woman been broader, of a finer nature, she might have failed here; but being what she was, immovable, hard as nails, narrow and prejudiced, sticking relentlessly to the obviously essential, she goaded and stung the girl into habits of study.
Her reaction to Mrs. MacGregor really pushed her forward. She knew that the woman could never overcome a secret sense of amaze that such a person as herself should be a member of Chadwick Champneys"s family--the man was a _gentleman_, you see. And she called Nancy "Anne." Her lifted eyebrows at Nancy"s English, her shocked, patient, parrot-like, "Not "seen him when he done it," _please_. You _saw_ him when he _did_ it!--No, "I come in the house" isn"t correct. Try to remember that _well-bred_ persons use the past tense of the verb; thus: "I _came_ into the house."--What _do_ I hear, Anne? You "_taken"_ it? No! You TOOK it!" And she would look at Nancy like a scandalized martyr, ready to die for the n.o.ble cause of English grammar! Rather than endure that look, rather than face those uplifted eyebrows, Nancy, gritting her teeth, set herself seriously to the task of making over her method of speech.
It was Mrs. MacGregor who, discovering the girl"s unstinted allowance of candy, cut off the supply. She didn"t care much for candies herself, but she did like fruit, and fruit was subst.i.tuted for the forbidden sweets. She had the healthy, wholesome English habit of walking, and unless the weather was impossible she forced her unwilling charge to take long tramps with her, generally immediately after breakfast. They would set out, Nancy dressed in a plain blue serge, her pretty, high-heeled pumps discarded for flat-heeled walking-shoes, Mrs. MacGregor flat-footed also, tall, bony, in a singular bonnet, but nevertheless retaining an inherent stateliness which won respect. Sometimes they tramped up Riverside Drive, their objective being Grant"s tomb. Mrs. MacGregor respected Grant; and the stands of dusty flags brought certain old British shrines to her mind. On stated mornings they visited the Library, while Mrs. MacGregor selected the books Nancy was to read, books that Nancy looked at askance. They had their mornings for the museums, too. Mrs. MacGregor knew nothing of art, except that, as she said to Nancy, well-bred persons simply _had_ to know something about it. After their walk came lessons, grueling, dry-as-dust, nose-to-the-grindstone lessons, during which Nancy"s speech was vivisected. At two o"clock they lunched, and Nancy had further critical instructions. The dishes she had once been allowed to order were changed, greatly to her annoyance; Mrs. MacGregor liked such honest stuff as mutton chops and potatoes, just as she insisted upon oatmeal for breakfast. Porridge, she called it. In the afternoon they motored; Mrs. MacGregor, who detested speed, became the bane of the hard-faced chauffeur"s life.
They dined at seven, and for an hour thereafter Mrs. MacGregor either read aloud from some book intended to edify the young person, or forced Nancy to do so. She was possibly the only person alive who delighted in Hannah More. She said, modestly, that at an early age she had been taught to revere this paragon, and whatever happy knowledge of the virtues proper to the female state she possessed, she owed in a large measure to that model writer. Nancy conceived for Hannah More a hatred equaled in intensity only by that cherished for Mrs. MacGregor herself.
Mrs. MacGregor"s notions of dress and her own were asunder, even as the poles. But here again that rigid duenna did her invaluable service, for if she didn"t look handsome in the clothes selected for her, she didn"t, as that lady said frankly, look vulgar in them.
No longer would you be liable to mistake her for somebody"s second-rate housemaid on her day out. The simple diet and the inexorable regularity of her hours also told in her favor, although she herself wasn"t as yet aware of the change taking place. Already you could tell that hers was a supple and shapely young body, with promise of a magnificent maturity; you glimpsed behind the fading freckles a skin like a water-lily for creamy whiteness; and that red hair of hers, worn without frizzings, began to take on a glossy, coppery l.u.s.ter.
That spring they moved into the new house. It was so different from the average newly-rich American home that it moved even Mrs.
MacGregor to praise. Nancy thought it rather bare. It hadn"t color enough, and there were but few pictures. Yet the old rosewood and mahogany furniture pleased her. She remembered that golden-oak, red-plush parlor at Baxter"s with a sort of wonder. Why! she had thought that parlor handsome! And now she was beginning to understand how hideous it had been.
She saw little of Mr. Champneys, who seemed to be plunged to the eyes in business. Occasionally he appeared, looked at her searchingly, said a few words to her and Mrs. MacGregor, and vanished for another indefinite period. Mr. Jason Vandervelde was almost a daily visitor when Mr. Champneys happened to be in the city. At times Mr. Champneys went away, presumably to look after business interests, and Nancy thought that at such times the lawyer accompanied him. She had no friends of her own age, and Mrs.
MacGregor wasn"t, to say the least, companionable. And the books she was compelled to read bored her to distraction. She took it for granted they must be frightfully good, they were so frightfully dull! The deadliest, dullest of all seemed to be reserved for Sunday. She didn"t mind going to church; in church you could watch other people, even though Mrs. MacGregor sat rigidly erect by your side, and expected you to be able to find your place in a Book of Common Prayer entirely unfamiliar to you. While she sat rapt during what you thought an unnecessarily long sermon, you could look about you slyly, and take note of the people within your immediate radius.
Nancy liked to observe the younger people. Sometimes a bitter envy would almost choke her when she regarded some girl who was both pretty and prettily dressed, and, apparently, care-free and happy.
She watched the younger men stealthily. Some of them pleased her; she would have liked to be admired by at least one of them, and she felt jealous of the fortunate young women singled out for their attentions. Think of being pretty, and having beautiful clothes, and swell fellows like that in love with you! That any one of these fine young men should cast a glance in her own direction never entered her mind. No. Loveliness and the affection and gaiety of youth were for others; for her--Peter Champneys. At that she fetched a deep sigh. She always went home from church silent and subdued. Mrs.
MacGregor thought this a proper att.i.tude of mind for the Sabbath.
The girl was vaguely disturbed and uneasy without knowing why. The newness and glamour of the possession of creature comforts, the absence of want, was wearing thin in spots. She was conscious of a lack. She was beginning to think and to question, and as there was no one in whom she might confide, she turned inward. Naturally, she couldn"t answer her own questions, and all her thoughts were as yet chaotic and confused. She wanted--well, what did she want, anyhow?
She repeated to herself, "I want something different!" That something different should not include a dreary round of Mrs.
MacGregor, a cold inspection by Mr. Chadwick Champneys; nor the thought of Peter Champneys. It _would_ include laughter and--and people who were neither teachers nor guardians, but who were gay, and young, and kind. She began to be conscious of her own isolation.
She had always been isolated. Once poverty had done it; and now money was doing it. Those girls she saw at church--she"d bet they went to parties, had loads of friends, had a good time, were loved; plenty of people wanted their love. For herself, as far back as she could look, she had never had a friend. Who cared for her love?
Sometimes she watched the new maid, a distractingly pretty little Irish girl, black-haired, blue-eyed, rosy-faced. The girl tried to be demure, to restrain the laughter that was always near the surface; but her eyes danced, her cheek dimpled, she had what one might call a smiling voice. And the handsome young policeman on the corner was acutely aware of her. Nancy remembered one afternoon when she and Mrs. MacGregor happened to be coming in at the same time with Molly. It was Molly"s afternoon off and she was dressed trimly, and with taste. Under her little close-fitting hat her hair was like black satin, her face like a rose. The young policeman managed to pa.s.s the house at that moment, and lifted his cap to her; Nancy saw the look in the young man"s eyes. She followed Mrs. MacGregor into the house, rebelliously. n.o.body had ever looked at _her_ like that.
n.o.body was ever going to look at her like that. She remembered Peter Champneys"s eyes when they had first met hers. A dull flush stained her face, and bitterness overwhelmed her.
Mr. Champneys was busy; Mrs. MacGregor was satisfied--she had a position of authority; her creature comforts were exquisitely attended to; her salary was ample. The man saw his plans being carried forward, if not brilliantly at least creditably; the woman saw that her tasks were fulfilled. It never occurred to either that the girl might or should ask for more than she received, or that she might find her days dull. But Nancy was discovering that the body is more than raiment, and that one does not live by bread alone.
CHAPTER XIII
THE BRIGHT SHADOW
The Champneys chauffeur, greatly to Mrs. MacGregor"s terror and disapproval, seemed to live for speed alone; in consequence, one afternoon Mrs. MacGregor and Nancy very narrowly escaped dying for it. Whereupon Mr. Champneys summarily dismissed the chauffeur and engaged in his place young Glenn Mitch.e.l.l, accidentally brought to his notice. Mr. Champneys congratulated himself upon the discovery of Glenn Mitch.e.l.l. To begin with, he was a South Carolinian, one of those well-born, penniless, ambitious young Southerners who come to New York to make their fortune. One of his forebears had married a Champneys. That was in ante bellum days, but South Carolina has a long memory, and this far-off tie immediately established the young fellow upon a footing of family relationship and of cousinly friendliness. He was a personable youth of twenty, who had worked his way through high school and meant presently to go through the College of Physicians and Surgeons,--his grandfather had been a distinguished physician, Mr. Champneys remembered. The boy proposed to use his skill in handling a motor-car as a means toward that end.
Mr. Chadwick Champneys would gladly have paid Glenn"s college expenses out of his own pocket, but the young man, delicately sounded, politely but st.u.r.dily declined. The next best thing the kindly old Carolinian could do, then, was to make the boy a member of his own household. Hoichi had orders to prepare a room for Mr.
Mitch.e.l.l, and Mrs. MacGregor was advised that he would take his meals with the family. She was at first inclined to be scandalized: to bring your chauffeur to your own table was Americanism with a vengeance! But when she met the young man, she was mollified. This chauffeur was a gentleman, and in Mrs. MacGregor"s estimation a gentleman may do many things without losing caste. She remembered that the perfectly decent younger son of a certain poverty-stricken n.o.bleman had driven a car. This young Mitch.e.l.l was exceptionally good-looking in a nice, boyish, fresh-faced way, and she saw in his manner a youthful reflection of the courtliness which distinguished Mr. Chadwick Champneys. He had a great deal of that indefinable something we call charm, and before she knew it Mrs. MacGregor was won over to him, and looked upon his presence as a distinct addition to the Champneys menage.