HARUM SCARUM'S
FORTUNE
By ESMÈ STUART
JARROLDS Publishers LONDON
Limited, 10 and 11 Warwick Lane, E.C.
First Printed in 1910
Reprinted 1913
" 1915
" 1916
" 1917
" 1918
" 1919
" 1921
" 1923
" 1924
" 1925
By the same author:
HARUM SCARUM
HARUM SCARUM MARRIED
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
- [DO YOU REMEMBER?]
- [FIFTY THOUSAND A YEAR]
- [BEFORE THE FRAY]
- [VERY EARLY]
- [PREPARATIONS]
- [REAL SILVER]
- [THE VISITORS ARRIVE]
- [A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW]
- [A BARN DANCE]
- [THE PATH OF PERFECTION]
- [THE NEW SECRETARY]
- [AN UNDIGNIFIED SITUATION]
- [A BIG PILE]
- [THE FIRST-FRUITS]
- [GENTLE AND SIMPLE]
- [UNEXPECTED NEWS]
- [STUCK IN A BOG]
- [A GENEROUS COUSIN]
- [A REFUGE]
- [SHAPING A ROMANCE]
- [PLAYING WITH FIRE]
- [FAILURE]
- [TEN MINUTES]
- [LEWIS' DECISION]
- [SHORT NOTICE]
- [ANOTHER OFFER]
- [A TERRIBLE SECRET]
- [LILIES AND A WEDDING]
- [AN ANGRY LAWYER]
- [A FIERY ORDEAL]
- [HOME AGAIN]
Harum Scarum's Fortune
CHAPTER I.
DO YOU REMEMBER?
Toney Whitburn pulled in her thorough-bred suddenly by a gap in the park and looked at her companion. The two had met by chance and they had had a canter together, so that the exercise had made the girl look radiant, and her hair, though twisted round her well-shaped head, rebelled at the restriction, and in protest curled itself round her temples and the nape of her neck.
"Do you know—I'm twenty-one to-morrow. Isn't it terrible?"
"Terrible!" answered the young Squire, Lewis Waycott, with a smile half of amusement and half of sympathy.
"You don't think so, but I do! You know I've honestly tried to become 'a young lady with expectations.' I've been to a finishing school at Paris, and I've tried to learn German at Dresden, and I've gone to sleep through ever so many concerts, and I've seen all the old things at Rome—and yet——"
"You haven't succeeded? You are just the same as you were, thank Heaven!"
Toney's joyous laugh woke the echoes.
"No, I've failed utterly, though, honest Injun, I have tried! Aunt Dove says so! She's always implying what a national misfortune it is that to-morrow I shall be my own mistress, but now, will you—you have always been awfully chummy—will you be the judge?"
"Between you and Lady Dove?"
"Yes. You know I offered to be her companion—and I meant it——"
"You always mean what you say, Toney."
"I try to because Pups always did— Oh, if only he could just come to me now and say, 'Toney, you must'—no, he always said we must—do this and that with our money."
"I wish he could—but if you ask me, Toney, I should say give it all to Lady Dove, as she seems mighty jealous of your having it."
For a moment Toney looked at her companion with wide open and surprised eyes, then she answered gravely,
"Do you really mean that?"
"Yes, I do," he muttered.
"You are quite wrong. The dear old General would rise from his grave if I gave away his present. Oh, I couldn't; besides—I believe he wished Aunt Dove not to have it, so it would be betraying trust if—— No, I've got to keep it, but the thing is what I'm to do with it!"
"It's not many people who are puzzled what to do with money. I suppose—you'll——"
"What? I never knew you jib before."
"I was going to say you'll have lots of offers—and marry some Nabob——"
Toney laughed.
"How odd you should say that! Do you know, I wanted to ask your opinion about that very thing, because I can trust you. What does one say if people make you offers?"
The two had been waiting by the gate that led into the plantation. It was a lovely October day with the sunshine turning yellow leaves into gold and decay made glorious by its touches. Toney was so unconscious that her remark was at all comical, that her companion dared not laugh, nor did he even dare to look surprised.
"If you love the man, say 'yes,' and if you don't, say 'no.'"
"Thank you. I see it does seem easy and simple. Dear old Crumpet—by the way, this was the gap she went through on our first visit to you—do you remember? Well, when we went to Italy together——"
"Lady Dove did not approve!"
"Of course not, but she was wrong. No one could have done it better than Crumpet. She was just delighted over everything, and I had to hide my yawns often not to make her sorry; I couldn't stand more than one gallery a day, and one ruin thrown in, I really couldn't, but she loved it all. Do you know every now and then she used to burst out into a soft little laugh all to herself just because she was so happy, and I was so scrumptiously pleased to hear it, that I swallowed an extra gallery and did another old ruin without letting her see how sleepy it made me."
"But she was with you to do as you liked, I thought!"
"Oh, to see Crumpet laugh was what I really enjoyed! Do you remember what she used to be like, and now what with the Reverend, and Harry, and Toney, she is quite too happy, she says. But that isn't what I wanted to say, you'll see her to-morrow, and I've been here so little that it all brings back the past to-day. You understand?"
"Yes, I do; it seems ages since you were here, except on awfully short visits."
"Well, in Italy, there was a young man who made me an offer."
"What impudence!"
"Oh, no, and he didn't do it to me personally, because he told Crumpet I never gave him the tiniest chance, but he did it to her instead! Wasn't it funny, and she wept bitterly when she told me, she thought it was her fault."
"And what answer did you give him?" This time his companion smiled.
"I begged Crumpet to tell him Pups had said that he pitied any man who married me, as I was such a dasher—you know—and that Aunt Dove said no one would ever propose to me except he wanted my money!"
The man at her side bit his lip and impatiently flipped his horse with his whip, holding him in tightly at the same time.
"Lady Dove said that!"
"Yes, and of course it's true! Aunt Dove does say the truth now and then. Don't you see yourself that it's true? I'm not like your cousin or Silvia Hales, or any of the nice girls about! Aunt Dove says Paris, Rome, Berlin, Dresden, and London, have all failed to make me an English young lady."
"A good thing too!"
"Oh, you say that because we are chums, but I know it's true. I can't feel different, though I've tried. Once a month I say 'make me a new heart' in the Psalms, you know, but nothing happens, so I suppose it isn't possible to alter some people, and I'm one of them."
"Nonsense!"
"No, it's true; Madame Lemoine, at Paris, used to say, 'Il faut toujours dire la vérité en famille,' but to other people it didn't matter. I told her it was all wrong, but she never could see it my way, so I gave it up, and she was an old dear in spite of her fibs!"
"She didn't convert you to fibbing, Toney!"
"There you see, I can't alter, but that wasn't what I was going to say. Do you know that last night, dear Uncle Evas—who is really quite cheerful now—and didn't he enjoy his times at Rome with me and Crumpet? for you know that with a lot of trouble and a little bribery I think, he got a month off last year."
They both laughed heartily, and slowly walked their horses on together. If a stranger had seen them he would have paused to look at this picture of the man and the maid.
"Well, what did your uncle say?"
"Oh, it was funny. He wanted to give me good advice about my coming of age! He cleared his throat and said, 'My dear Antonia, to-morrow you will be——' Then I laughed so much that he couldn't help joining in too, so I just gave him a hug till he begged for mercy."
Her companion also bowed his head over his horse's mane in happy laughter.
"I see, Toney, it's true you are incorrigible!"
"Yes, but really I don't believe you could have been so cruel as to let Uncle Dove give you a homily, now, could you? It would only have given him a sore throat for a month."
"I should like to have heard him all the same."
"You know he's just all right deep down in his heart, but he can't preach to save his life. However, when I released him—Aunt Dove had gone to bed, and he was so afraid of her hearing us—he showed me a long list of names, all men's names."
"Good heavens! What for?"
"I was a bit surprised too, and he laughed and said, 'Don't be afraid, they are not suitors,' then I scolded him and said he knew I never thought of such things. Well, then he explained that as I was coming into so much money—and do you know somehow it's a lot more than they expected—I must have a secretary, because it would take all my time and strength to open the letters. There's a lot come already, begging me to buy carpets and boots and smoked bacon, and heaps more things!"
"Never open letters, then you won't want a secretary," said Lewis decidedly.
"And I said, 'Oh, I can find a girl to do it,' but uncle intimated that there was more work than any poor girl could do, and that I must have a trained man—sort of lawyer—Mr. Staines insists on it, because he doesn't trust me with money—they none of them do—and fancy, dear old uncle had been spending hours collecting a lot of right-minded young men for me! Isn't it funny?"
"Very unnecessary; the London lawyers could do it all."
"No, they say they can't be bothered about begging letters, and so on; anyhow, I've got to have a secretary. I looked at the list and their testimonials and oh, do you know, everyone was perfect, and all their friends declared there was not a fault in them, so I told uncle it didn't matter which I took, and I suggested we should put their names on slips of paper and stick them up in his hat and pull one out!"
"Did he consent?"
"No! he was afraid I should tell of him I think, anyhow I had to choose, and there was one with an Australian uncle who recommended him highly. Out there we always recommended our relations, it wasn't neighbourly not to say all the good and leave out all the bad, so I told uncle I'd have him. Plantagenet Russell, that's his name. His father was a black sheep out home, but his uncle says he is most gentlemanly!"
"Toney, how ridiculous! Of course he's a plant too!"
"Gracious stars! what's the matter? I told you Uncle Dove had written about them all, he's all right and he's coming the day after to-morrow to see us, so as to avoid the coming of age party. You've promised to come, haven't you? I've been working so hard to get everything right for it."
"Of course, we are all coming."
"Heaps of Aunt Dove's friends are coming. We haven't had one refusal. Awfully kind of them, though of course I would much rather some of them didn't come, it's only to see if I've improved."
"Shall I stay away?"
"Why it would not be coming of age without you and Crumpet and Uncle Dove and Doctor Latham, and a few more—and Jim's coming to be my coachman and groom all in one, because Aunt Dove doesn't want to pay anything for me now I'm rich. Jim is just a faithful friend, and he's still engaged to his second young woman, the first was a bit fast so he gave her the slip one day."
"How do you know, Toney?"
"Jim and I have corresponded regularly. You see if you just leave go of these young fellows they soon forget their promises, besides I kept all his savings, and he's a nice little lump now in the Savings Bank. Oh, dear, it's tea-time and I must scoot! Mr. Staines is coming to explain things to me, and there's no end to do, but Crumpet is staying with me in our old rooms, top storey, and she'll help a bit. You should see the rooms, I spent all one quarter's pocket money on them, and now they're real palatial, at least Crumpet's is; I hate a lot of things, but I put in a big tub and—— Oh! gracious stars! I must go, so good-bye, dear old chum!"
Toney Whitburn held out a strong young hand and her companion grasped it.
"Look here, Toney, if you are in trouble or want anything, anything, you know—you'll ask me to help you—promise?"
"Of course I will. Haven't I just now asked you about young men and offers, all because I thought you would know and wouldn't laugh."
"Yes, thank you—and I'll come to-morrow in spite of not being sure I shall be welcome."
"There! you are telling fibs like Madame, but honest truth, I'd rather have you and Jim at my party, than any other men I know."
"Thanks awfully," and with a laugh the two separated. Toney galloped across the park, and the Squire was just going to jump the fence when he paused and looked back at her.
"Oh, Toney, Toney," he said to himself; "when will you understand, but even if you did I'll never let that horrid old cat say I wanted your money! Hang it all—and now there's a beastly young secretary coming to be always in her pocket. Sir Evas ought to know better!"
CHAPTER II.
FIFTY THOUSAND A YEAR.
Aldersfield House had changed very little outwardly since Antonia Whitburn and Trick had arrived there as lonely orphans. There was the same heavy, handsome, mid-Victorian furniture, the same stately and punctilious servants, or others of the same specie, because the same Lady Dove presided over the establishment. But as every human being changes for better or for worse, there was something even more displeasing than formerly in Lady Dove's face. She was a prey—and had been ever since the memorable day when she heard the news of Toney's good fortune—to the demon of jealousy, who never leaves his victims many peaceful moments, and just now he was her constant visitor. Toney had been very little at Aldersfield, because Sir Evas and Mr. Staines, the lawyer, had insisted on her having foreign advantages, and Lady Dove had eagerly acquiesced. The very sight of Toney increased her malady, but as no one knew this it had been decided that Toney should, for the present, live with her uncle and aunt, for everyone recognised that she had not learnt the use of money, and that it was not safe for her to be left quite unprotected. Strange to say Toney had not rebelled when she was told of this decision; she was very fond of her uncle, and though secretly she called Aunt Dove her "cross," she meant to carry the burden bravely so that Sir Evas should be able to be "off duty" as often as possible. The other plans that had been maturing in the mind of Harum Scarum were for the present kept a secret.
Before Toney could take off her habit she was bidden to come and see Mr. Staines in her uncle's study, so she and Trick hastily ran in, and indeed, Trick, having got jambed between her feet, nearly succeeded in making his mistress tumble—as it was, she lurched into the room in a most undignified manner.
"Gracious stars! I nearly took a header! It's Trick's fault. How do you do, Mr. Staines? I hope you won't be very solemn, as I want everyone to be awfully jolly to-morrow. I've made my own time-table this time," and the remembrance of Aunt Dove's time-table nearly upset Toney's gravity.
Mr. Staines had happily a sense of fun, besides he knew what to expect and merely smiled.
"It is my duty to be solemn, Miss Whitburn, but I fear it is an impossible duty in your presence! To-morrow you will come of age and you will have the sole control of your fortune. I tried to make General Stone insert some restrictions in his will, but he refused. I can still near our dear old friend saying, 'If you knew Toney Whitburn, Staines, you would know restrictions would be of no use!'"
Sir Evas was smiling in his corner. Perhaps Toney's fortune had brought him more happiness than to anyone else, for being her guardian, he had been fully occupied during her minority, and the work had been a real pleasure and occupation for him. Besides this, once a year he had got a month—not in prison, but with Toney abroad, and what good times those had been, even though he always had to pay handsomely for them on his return home. Now he added,
"The General was a very unwise man, and I do hope, Toney——"
"Yes, I know, uncle!—— Oh dear, I suppose my youth has flown now! I've got to do such a lot of thinking—but look here, Mr. Staines, tell me the amount I may spend and I'll promise I'll do it."
"This was what I wished to explain. Sir Evas Dove in accounting for his guardianship has left everything in order, and by a curious piece of luck he bought some land for you with some surplus money, which has turned out to be extremely valuable, as a rich vein of coal has been discovered on it. You will have—— Ehem—at least——"
"Oh, I don't mind, Mr. Staines, so don't hesitate at the figure."
"You will have fifty thousand a year, Miss Whitburn. It is a larger fortune than General Stone anticipated, and I can only hope that you will not long have to bear the burden of the fortune alone. Ehem—I hope that a happy marriage will—ere long——"
Toney shook her head and laughed.
"Oh no, it's no good hoping. Aunt Dove says no one would marry me except for the money, but I'll manage all right, and Uncle Evas will help, won't you!"
"I do not wish to influence you, Toney, my duty ends to-day, but you have never wanted for pluck——"
"No, no, certainly not," said the lawyer, "but if I may say so, Miss Whitburn, your ample pocket money seemed to melt in your hands. Several times you wrote to me for more, and in your last letter——"
Toney laughed as she seized Trick in the act of making a dash at Mr. Staines' heels.
"Yes, I know there was never enough. I'm a bit like Pups in that; our box was always getting empty, but there will be a heap now. Oh dear!" and Toney for a moment heaved a deep sigh.
"I've kept the amount of Toney's fortune a secret, Mr. Staines, from—the neighbourhood," said Sir Evas, "it's better so; of course there are fortune hunters everywhere and—I think, my dear, you had better not mention the actual figures. Everyone knows you will have some money, but even your aunt does not know accurately." Sir Evas looked a little shame-faced.
"Oh dear, I hate secrets," sighed Toney, "I'll try and say nothing—but gracious stars! I needn't tell anyone how it goes, need I, for it would be more than I could do?"
"Of course you need not, but it is more business-like to keep accounts," said the lawyer sternly, "and to come to details, it would be better to give Lady Dove the same amount as she has had, as long as you live here."
"Of course. You'll do that, Mr. Staines, and if you double it, perhaps she'll not dislike me so much."
Sir Evas shook his head deprecatingly.
"My dear child, you are welcome to all I can give you without return."
"You dear old duck of an uncle, of course you shan't have a penny of it, but Aunt Dove won't mind pickings—for the estate you know! and there's extra servants to pay and a lot of—— Is that all, Mr. Staines? By the way, uncle and I have chosen a secretary, so that's a good thing over! Ouf! I do wish it wasn't such a lot of pelf, sort of stifles one, doesn't it? The basket of Gwyddnen Garanhir was nothing to it, but I'll not be crushed by such a silly thing as money, you bet—— Oh, I mustn't say that, eh, Trick?"
"One thing more, Toney; I am going to give over to you the left wing of the house which we shut up some years ago. Your aunt agrees. (Lady Dove had said, "Pray do as you like, Evas, you always go against my wishes.") Come and see if it suits you. I've had it all done up."
"Well, that's real kind; but indeed, uncle, Crumpet's room and mine would have done. I'll keep those, no one wants them, and she can come often and stay with me."
Sir Evas led the way down a passage, and, opening a swing door, they passed through an old library full of books, with pretty windows looking over the park, and next to it a morning room painted white and furnished with old-fashioned oak things, which Lady Dove had long ago discarded as too much out of date. Beyond that again was a small garden room, opening out into the shrubbery.
"These shall be for you, Toney, where you may receive your own friends, and there are two rooms above for the secretary. Mr. Staines agrees with me that—well, considering your fortune, it is more fitting for you to have some rooms you may call your own."
"Oh!" exclaimed Toney, "it is just awfully nice, but—what will Aunt Dove say?"
Sir Evas was thinking the same to himself. Lady Dove had not once come to see the result of his work, and he knew he would have to pay her bill as well as that of the work-people who had decorated the old rooms. Still, you don't give a coming of age present for nothing, and he hoped he should pay his debts honestly!
"Trick, darling, here's your very own rooms, where you can bark as much as you like," and Toney, catching hold of her uncle, waltzed him round the room, regardless of Trick scampering after them barking and darting at the manly heels, whilst Mr. Staines stood by unable to hide a smile on his smooth lawyer-like face.
"Spare me, Toney! and for goodness' sake remember you are twenty-one to-morrow! I fear Mr. Staines will think all your foreign experience has not made a grown-up young lady of you!"
"Oh yes, it has!" said Toney, releasing him. "A sense of sorrow for my sins has grown awful big lately, and I never used to have it. It feels like indigestion, a lump here; but just this evening, uncle, I'll be young, and I'm so awfully pleased. I'll tell you what: you and I will have a sort of house-warming here next week, and ask just our very particular friends, but my party's coming first."
"There's the Winchley ball," said the lawyer, "I suppose you mean to go to that."
"Of course; I love dancing, and Uncle Dove must just come with me and hop a bit, but, Stars and Stripes, look! there's Crumpet's pony carriage and the fat pony bundling up the drive. I must go and get her out of it, for she's never got over her nervous feelings at driving up to Aldersfield. Uncle, remember it's her first visit here, and you will make her feel at home, won't you?" and Toney made a dash through the garden door and rushed to meet Mrs. Faber, who had come to spend two nights at Aldersfield House to celebrate Toney's coming of age. Mr. Faber was to appear the next day, and in the evening there was to be a great ball for the tenants and retainers, and others who had been invited. Sir Evas had had his way about this, and Lady Dove had grudgingly acquiesced, only saying that of course Antonia must pay all expenses.
This time the tables were reversed, and now Toney received the once humble companion at the big house, instead of being received by her.
"Oh, Crumpet, how nice! it's just perfect your coming like this. Jim! drive Mrs. Faber's carriage round, and take particular care of 'The Squire'" (this was the pony's name); "and oh, dear Chum, don't put on that scared look. Aunt Dove won't eat you; you're Mrs. Faber now, do remember that, and my honoured guest!"
"Oh, Toney!" gasped Mrs. Faber, "I feel as if I ought to be doing the flowers and writing notes and——" and then the little woman with the Fra Angelico face smiled like a saint; the scars of ancient chains never having quite disappeared.
"How I wish you had brought the piccaninnies; but it wouldn't do."
"Who is here in my place?" asked Mrs. Faber as she entered the hall, keeping close to Toney whilst the butler relieved her of her wraps.
"It's so funny, Crumpet; there's a companion here, Miss Grossman, who actually frightens Aunt Dove a little—she keeps strict hours and will not be put upon, but she knows her duties and is as strong as a horse. I can't help laughing! To be quite honest, she frightens me a little!"
"Oh, no! no one ever frightened you! but, Toney, don't leave me."
The butler opened the door and announced, "Mrs. Faber." The very fact of being announced at all to Lady Dove made Mrs. Faber wish to sink under the floor, but as this was not possible she bravely went forward behind Toney to greet her ancient slave-driver.
"Aunt Dove, here's Mrs. Faber come. Isn't it good of her to leave the pic—the children to come to my birthday party?"
Lady Dove stretched out two fingers without rising.
"Good afternoon, Anne Faber," she said, severely emphasizing the name, and using the word "afternoon" to make Mrs. Faber remember she was still the tradesman's daughter whom for fifteen years she had befriended by letting her act as her companion. In spite of her previous resolutions to remember that she was Henry's wife, and was well received by all her own neighbourhood, Mrs. Faber felt miserable. Why had she come? only for Toney's sake would she have undergone this ordeal.
"I'm quite well, thank you, Lady Dove," she answered, forgetting she had not been asked after her health, "and so are the children."
"Oh, are they? I can't think how you are going to bring them up on, your small income. I always say the clergy should have no children; sooner or later they expect us to bring them up."
"I'm sure Henry will never beg a penny for our children," said Mrs. Faber, the colour flushing her face, which, however, was no longer like ancient pastry, but was now adorned by a pretty delicate pink colour. Mrs. Faber really looked charming, and her dress was as dainty and simple as her face. Toney interposed.
"But, Aunt Dove, I'm godmother to both the children; you'll see what good times they'll have! It's awfully good of my Chum to have children I can play with. Oh dear, I've got to feel grown-up, Mr. Staines says, but just for this evening I'll still be young."
"Tea is coming in; sit down, Anne Faber, and kindly pour it out. That tiresome Grossman will never come in before five, as she insists on taking a walk till then. I really must give her notice, only one is afraid of getting something worse. You should never have married, Anne Faber. I got you quite into my ways, and since you left I've never had anyone who could write and read as you did."
"I'm very sorry you are not suited," murmured Mrs. Faber, beginning to make the tea whilst Toney flew at the kettle; but at that moment a tall angular woman appeared, and gave a terrible look at Lady Dove and at the other two, as she said tartly,
"It is five minutes to five; I am never late, Lady Dove, and, as you know, I never allow anyone to do my work. Excuse me——"
"I wish you would not argue, Grossman. Miss Whitburn and Mrs. Faber are quite equal to making tea if I choose to ask them;" but then the door opened, and Sir Evas and the lawyer entered and stopped further bickering between Lady Dove and her companion.
"Oh, Toney," whispered Sir Evas, "it's tartaric acid, I see; that woman's got a devil of a temper, and your Aunt Dove is really learning patience."
CHAPTER III.
BEFORE THE FRAY.
"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Faber later on, when Toney threw open her old sitting-room door where the poor companion had had such miserable hours. It was as comfortable as modern comfort bought with modern money could make it. Then the little woman fairly sat down and cried.
"Gracious stars! I meant to make you laugh, Crumpet! Oh, gee! you see how hard it is to do right!"
Mrs. Faber quickly dried her tears and smiled.
"I can't help thinking of all my happiness now and comparing it with the past, and it's all owing to you, Toney. Do you remember——"
"Of course I do. What mostest fun we had when I dressed in your grandmother's garments, and then when your dear Henry came!"
"When I compare my past and my present I feel how ungrateful I am!"
"Nonsense, Chum, you never were ungrateful! But look here, I got aunt's leave to furbish up this room a bit so that you shouldn't be reminded of the old order. I knew you would prefer our being together up here, and I've got lots to tell you. First, I've had some dresses made for you, so that you shouldn't be put to any expense for my party." Toney quickly opened a wooden box and displayed the most lovely dresses imaginable, lovely because suitable and perfectly simple. One was a dinner dress of pale mauve silk, just suited to Mrs. Faber's delicate complexion, and the other was a white liberty silk dress for the ball. Mrs. Faber gasped.
"Oh no, Toney! it's impossible! They must have cost ever so much money, and I don't want people to say that I—I sponge upon you."
"There you are again, Crumpet! 'People to say,' I did think that you'd rise above that. Remember Henry's pleasure—and mine!"
"Henry may not think it right!"
"Look here, Chum, let's be serious just for one minute and listen. You know I've an awful lot of money, fifty thousand a year!" Mrs. Faber gasped again.
"It's a secret, by the way, but not from you. Well, when I first heard it I did what Pups would have done, I just dedicated it all to other people that wanted it, and I didn't guess it would be such hard work as I see it will be. After to-morrow I shall work like a Kanaka, but just for this week I'm going to please myself and not think if it's wise, or if it's political economy, or all the things I've been trying to learn to fit myself for spending this stuff."
"It will be too much work for you, dear!"
"Yes, it's awful! but I'm going to keep just enough to dress like Pups' daughter, because that's what I am. You know Aunt Dove never thought me fit to live here, and I'm not yet changed, you see! And there shall always be enough to take people abroad who want it every year, you, too, of course among the number, for you'll get so parochial if you don't rub about a little, that you must travel, and then the rest will have to be 'wisely distributed,' as Mr. Hales says. Ouf!"
"Oh, dear, it is too much work," repeated Mrs. Faber, gently feeling the dinner dress between her fingers; she had never had a gown like that before, and how proud Henry would be of her appearance!
"So, Crumpet, don't ever think of me as rich. I shan't be, I'll have to screw sometimes on the allowance I'll make myself, but that's for discipline. Aunt Dove will have a nice slice of cake to make her happy—if she can be—and well, that's all, now remember I'm just the same old Toney with all her faults as of old, and too bad for anyone to love for herself, Aunt Dove says so—except you always, Crumpet. Now I'll ring for Rose to help us to dress."
"Where's your dress, dear Toney?" asked Mrs. Faber, going across to Toney's simple bedroom on which no money had been spent to embellish it.
"It's here. You see, Chum, it's only white muslin, but it's brand new and looks all right."
"Oh, Toney, much too simple, why anyone might wear that!"
"Well, I am disappointed in you! Didn't I explain quite straight I'm only Toney, and not rich, if I dressed up smart—which you know I hate any way—people would think I was rich. I believe you would like me to wear a dress of bank-notes sewed together. I did think you weren't worldly!"
"I'll try, dear, but when you make me wear such a lovely thing, though I'm only a poor clergyman's wife with three hundred a year, it doesn't seem quite——"
"It's to please me! Just for once I must have a fling, and after that I'll be as matter of fact as you like."
At this moment Rose appeared. She had been kitchen-maid, but Toney had hunted her up and turned her into a lady's maid, as Lady Dove insisted on Toney's engaging such a personage, saying her own maid had as much as she could do with her own affairs. Rose was supremely happy, but far more willing than capable, and Toney managed to do all her own toilet whilst she was getting Mrs. Faber into her dream dress. Toney had begged her uncle that they should be by themselves at Aldersfield this evening, just to seem like old times, and he had agreed, though Mr. Staines, the London lawyer, was of course one of the small party. Miss Grossman never appeared after the dinner bell had rung, and firmly refused any summons to the drawing-room after that meal, saying she had her own affairs to see after. Her ladyship had been very angry of course, and relieved her feelings by grumbling to her husband. She was discharging her wrath at him this evening before going up to dress.
"Grossman has very erroneous ideas of her duty, Evas. It's preposterous to refuse to pour out the evening tea and to take out the cards or pick up my stitches. I should never have engaged her if I could have guessed what she would be like."
"Why don't you get rid of her, Melina?"
"How aggravating you can be, Evas, you know quite well the last woman drank, and the one before was deaf and heard all awry. If I sent Grossman away, which I should dearly love to do, her successor would have a worse failing."
"Yes, most likely," he answered.
"That's just like you, Evas, you never try to help me."
"Shall I have a talk with her?"
"You have a talk with Grossman! Pray don't joke! she'd tell you to mind your own business; that woman is afraid of no one, positively no one! I wish Faber would die, and then I could have Crump back again, for then she would be penniless."
"And the two children?"
"Yes, it's really wicked of them! I should have to get them into asylums. Most provoking, ever since Antonia stepped into the house everything has gone from bad to worse. However, she is sure to get married soon for her money!"
"Did you ever think Lewis Waycott admired Toney?" said Sir Evas, hoping to please his spouse by this suggestion.
"Lewis Waycott! He's going to marry his cousin Maud. Mrs. Hamilton arranged all that long ago. But I dare say you are right, and he will throw up that nice girl for Toney's money bags. After all we have done for her—and it's entirely through me she has this money, for I told the General the plain truth about her penniless condition—I think Antonia could show her gratitude more by imitating our English manners. What's bred in the bone, I know, but she might at least pretend to be a lady."
"Pretend! You might know by this time that Toney can't pretend."
"Oh, you men are all taken with a young girl, I know! Duty goes to the wind when——"
But here Sir Evas slipped away to dress; now and then his manners failed entirely, and he did not always wait for the end of his wife's sentences. This evening, as her ladyship walked upstairs, her familiar demon provided a new torture for her. Suppose what Evas said were true, suppose Lewis Waycott fell in love with Antonia and married her and her fortune, his estate would benefit enormously, and the Waycotts would be a power in the county. "Antonia shall certainly not marry Lewis Waycott," she said to herself, "I can nip that in the bud—and I shall." Then, with a smile on her face, she rang for Rivett, who was as prim as formerly, but now she could no longer bully the companion, as Miss Grossman was fully able to keep her own position and to exact outward respect from the servants.
That evening in the drawing-room at Aldersfield, Toney's very presence seemed to shame the selfish stateliness of Lady Dove, for she had more than fulfilled the promise of beauty, though of a special kind. Her face was radiant, and her beautiful hair seemed to crown the perfect outline of her head. Her very simplicity of dress might have been premeditated, so entirely did it harmonize with the girl whose every motion was full of life and the beauty that comes from perfect unconsciousness of self. Certainly three of the people there were secretly speculating what fortunate man would win Toney's heart. At present her heart was given to humanity, and had never experienced the personal feeling which may make or mar perfect womanhood, but which never passes without leaving its trace.
Mr. Staines made a formal bow to Lady Dove and offered his arm, whilst Toney looked at Sir Evas who hesitated.
"Of course, uncle, married ladies first," and Sir Evas offered his arm to the blushing Anne Faber, but thinking of Henry she determined to make the most of herself, and Toney would be close by, besides, abroad she and Sir Evas had become most friendly, and this was a wonderful transformation. Mr. Staines was so attentive to Lady Dove that the other three were allowed to enjoy themselves.
"Are the preparations all ready, uncle? Did you see if the big barn was finally swept out, and if the rose wreaths were finished?"
"I assure you, Toney, I've worked myself to death."
"And did you send out all the invitations I wrote?"
"Every one. I got Barnes and Jones to take them round a week ago. I only hope your scrawls were readable!"
"I thought they would like it best, a personal invitation is much better, isn't it?"
"What did you say, Toney?" asked Mrs. Faber.
"Miss Toney Whitburn will be much delighted if Mrs. Spratt will come and have a dinner and dance on October 28th, at Aldersfield House. Dinner punctually at six o'clock, family included—babies taken care of."
"But you'll have all the village!"
"All uncle's people, of course. Won't it be fun! Uncle and I planned it all weeks ago. Didn't we, dear?"
"You planned it, Toney, and I said yes. I know my duty!"
"But you were as excited as I was. You know you were! I do wish my dear General were here. Do you think he and Pups will look on?"
"Well, I expect—— I shouldn't wonder," said poor Sir Evas, whose ethics of the world beyond were very hazy, "or, perhaps they can see a long way off."
"Pups said that there were no real lines of demarcation in nature, but, of course, you would not want everybody who's dead to crowd in. It's just a puzzle! The cook is excited too. Oh, Chum, I've ordered the dinner as I'm going to pay all expenses, and you'll see. It took a good deal of planning, but I didn't tell uncle all that, I was just a bit afraid he'd split on me."
"I'm as dark as the grave, Toney!" said Sir Evas laughing, "but I must say I shall be glad when it's over. One never knows with you——"
"Are we all to dance together?" asked Mrs. Faber.
"At first, but there's a ball in the big drawing-room for the people who don't care about the tenants, only they won't be half so lively. Mr. Waycott's promised he'll be at the opening of my ball, and Dr. Latham, and, of course, you and uncle. I don't think Aunt Dove will care. She says poor people are not odoriferous. It comes from their clothes being rather old. I wished we lived in the days of Henry IV., when every poor man had a fowl in his cooking-pot."
"A fowl wouldn't go far with Charles Pipkin and his family," said Sir Evas, "it did all very well for the Frenchies."
"It is fortunate girls only come of age once in their lifetime," Lady Dove was saying. "When I was young it meant a young lady was fully formed and educated, and her manners were irreproachable; I fear we can't say that of Antonia, Mr. Staines."
"All in due time, Lady Dove," was Mr. Staines' guarded answer.
"Really how horribly Grossman has arranged these flowers, and taken all my best roses too," exclaimed her ladyship. "You were much more successful, Anne Faber. It seems a pity you can no longer use your talents."
"My husband is passionately fond of flowers, we always have some on the table," murmured Mrs. Faber.
"Indeed! It's a pity flowers are not edible. Mr. Staines, how is Captain Stone. He is another eccentric creature, and has not been to see us for a long time, but he asked for a bed to-morrow."
"He told me of his intention. He was very fond of his brother."
"The General's will must have been a bitter pill to him," said Lady Dove smiling.
Mr. Staines saw clearly that it was Lady Dove who had swallowed the pill, and replied politely,
"I know that the General asked his brother's consent, and Captain Stone thought all his brother did perfect."
"Indeed! men are so deluded, I mean the old ones of course. Lewis Waycott, our neighbour, is fast turning into the same kind of man. He has become quite the farmer, don't you think so, Evas?"
"What, my dear, Lewis Waycott? Yes, certainly, excellent fellow; sees after his cottages now, and is quite a model landlord."
CHAPTER IV.
VERY EARLY.
Toney was alone in the little bare simple room which had been hers on her first arrival at Aldersfield. She sat down on the window-sill with Trick in her arms, and she looked back with wonder across the five years' interval since her arrival. She remembered the terrible homesickness that had seized her in the stifling atmosphere of Aldersfield, but God had made her paths smooth for her since then, and now He was going to give her the great responsibility of wealth. She did not feel the burden as much as an older woman might have done, for besides possessing the courage of youth, her mind was not complex. Her great ideas were simple enough after all—to give good times to all the needy people she came in contact with. That had been her father's creed, and that should be hers. She had yet to find out that even this creed is not nearly as simple as it appears at first sight. Toney's prayers were never very lengthy, but they came from her heart, and before she got into bed she laughed softly to herself as she examined a sheet of paper on which was written,
"Toney's time-table, on her twenty-first birthday," thinking of the old time-table that had brought her into so much disgrace with Lady Dove.
This one had to begin early, for it was St. Simon and St. Jude's Day, and before anyone but underlings were about, Toney stepped out of the house and began running across the park as if she were running for a wager, Trick panting after her. She had to be in time for the eight o'clock early service, which Mr. Hales, despite small encouragement from his flock, never omitted on Saints' Days. Lady Dove said it was ridiculous of him to have these early services, as she never went to them. Mrs. Hales, Silvia, and an old servant, these formed all his congregation, till just as he was about to begin, Toney entered, panting audibly.
"Where two or three are gathered together there am I in the midst of them," thought the Vicar, and was not discouraged. When the others hurried home, Toney still remained on her knees, till suddenly Trick pattered in to remind her that he was waiting for her, and Toney took the hint.
The Vicar was also waiting for her outside.
"Oh!" exclaimed Toney with her radiant smile, "that is kind of you, I wanted to see you so much."
"Many happy returns of the day, Toney," he said, holding her hand, then very simply he added, "I have been praying for you." The Vicar was not ashamed of mentioning his prayers—had he not been ordained to prayer, and was it not his duty to wear his colours as bravely as did his former pupil?
"Thank you. I know you mean it! and you're not thinking of the money, are you? Everybody will be to-day, but I want to tell you that I'm going to have a fling just this week, so don't scold, and after that—I'm going to be as wise as Solomon. Honour bright!"
The Vicar smiled.
"Well, Toney, what's the fling?"
"One thing I'm doing the dinner and the dance as it should be done. Aunt Dove wouldn't hear of—things I wanted, so I begged for a free hand. You are all coming, aren't you? And Dr. Latham will be there, and he's helped me ever so much, and Mr. Waycott is awfully nice, and I've got my Chum. Oh, you don't know how different she is. You'll pay her special attention, won't you, Mr. Hales? She is really quite clever now, it's Mr. Faber's doing, they read together every day a good book and a literary book. I call that a real union, don't you?"
"Some wives wouldn't thank their husbands for educating them."
"You won't talk five minutes with Mr. Faber before he mentions something wonderful about his dearest Anne. It's real sweet!" and Toney laughed for joy.
"Come in to breakfast, Toney, and see mother and Silvia."
"I can't, thank you. I must get back; Uncle Evas wants a lot of supporting to-day, because Aunt Dove is not very—happy in her mind."
"By the way, Toney, has that surprising distribution of letters last night anything to do with you? Silvia said she saw two men going round. She thought at first it was the Insurance people who are always wanting to bury babies, but then she recognised your friend Jim, and an Aldersfield gardener."
Toney laughed.
"I would have liked to see our friends open their letters! Oh, Trick, be quiet, he thinks you haven't taken any notice of him. Then, oh please, do tell me if Thomas has been happy with his wife? The children look nicely cared for anyhow."
"Yes, that marriage turned out very well. I only hope you will——" The Vicar paused.
"I know, 'make a good use of your money.' Don't please. Mr. Staines and Uncle Evas have both tried to preach little sermons on that text."
The Vicar had not thought of the money, but he let it pass with a smile as Toney continued,
"I want to tell you that I put my first cheque in the bag this morning; it's for the sick and needy, and you know them best, and anyone else who wants it. Pups used to say it's much better to reform people with happiness than with reproaches. You agree, don't you? Now good-bye, and come early. Oh, please make friends with Miss Grossman. It's real difficult."
Toney was gone like a sudden cyclone, and the Vicar stood and looked after her. A little sigh escaped him, and then he walked home to his breakfast. Before he could reach it, however, he was waylaid by Thomas' wife.
"Oh, sir, Thomas he sent me to ask you, sir, if it was a mistake. Mrs. Smith, next door to me, she's had the same, and Culver too."
"What is it?" asked the Vicar, taking the envelope presented to him.
"It's in it, sir, if you don't mind, and do you think it's a mistake?"
"What mistake? Oh——" He understood as he read the note in Toney's writing,
"DEAR MR. AND MRS. THOMAS,
"Please spend this little present just as you like. It's a birthday treat to myself, and come in good time to the dinner and dance.
"Your sincere friend,
"TONEY WHITBURN.
"P.S.—Tell the children they shall have a separate room and can make as much noise as they like."
"The children is so excited, sir, they wouldn't eat their victuals yesterday, but Thomas says he's sure it's a mistake."
"In what way, Mrs. Thomas?"
"Well, sir, the sovereign I mean, a whole sovereign. And it's the same to the others. We didn't want no money from Miss Toney, but it do seem just a nice surprise."
The Vicar unfolded the silver paper and saw the golden sovereign with his own eyes. He had heard Toney was rich, but this beginning appeared lavish and was it wise?
"I don't think it's a mistake, Mrs. Thomas."
"Thank you, sir. Thomas he wouldn't hear of spending it till I'd asked you, and he do say how he'll keep the coin, but I says Miss Toney tells us to spend it and it wouldn't be honest not to."
Mrs. Thomas had already mentally spent it, and could not at all agree with wrapping up the gold as a keepsake.
"Certainly, she means you to spend it. You must all come to do her honour to-day. If we could all think of other people instead of ourselves as she does, our village would be none the worse!"
"Thomas thinks no end of her after what she did for him, sir, he wouldn't go the public now as he used to do if you was to pay him to go, all along of Miss Toney. Thank you, sir, I'll tell Thomas."
In another moment the Vicar met his own gardener, who lived in a cottage close by.
"If you please, sir, Miss Toney sent me a sovereign. Is it all right, sir, for me to accept it?"
"She has made no favourite, Turner, every villager on her uncle's estate has the same, I believe."
Mr. Hales returned home with a smile on his lips.
"Mother! our madcap heiress has sent a sovereign to each of her uncle's cottagers. I don't know what other surprises we shall have this evening." Mrs. Hales shook her head.
"The old General ought to have secured some controlling power for her."
"She will pauperize the village," said Silvia, who was still pretty, but had now a little discontented expression on her face, and the reason was that Captain Nichols, a young penniless officer who admired her, and whom she loved, would not come forward, as he could not make up his mind to give up his own extravagances. Without owning it to herself, Silvia was jealous of the once despised Harum Scarum. Silvia's younger sister had boldly faced poverty, and gone to be a lady nurse, but was coming for two days at Toney's special request.
"When you get a present of a sovereign, Silvia, are you pauperized?" said the Vicar smiling.
"It isn't often I do!"
"I think we may safely say Toney will not repeat this surprise."
"Of course it is easy to be generous when you have heaps of money! I wonder how much Toney has got," and Silvia heaved a little sigh.
"I rather pity her," said Mr. Hales gently. "Lady Dove never says a kind word about her, at least to me."
"I think Toney likes her inferiors best," added Silvia. "I hear Mrs. Faber has come to stay at Aldersfield. She must remember the time when she was only the poor companion."
"We none of us received her very kindly," remarked the Vicar, cutting some bread, and then Silvia gave a quick glance at her brother's face. Was it possible that he admired Toney? If he married her and her fortune, what great things might he not achieve for himself and his family! Silvia determined to say nothing more against Toney. Vague possibilities which she would have been ashamed to own aloud flitted through her mind.
"Anyhow, she is very, very generous, and I mean to enjoy the ball," she said in quite a cheerful voice.
Mrs. Hales was opening her letters and exclaimed suddenly,
"Really that child! Listen! dear boy."
"MY DEAR MRS. HALES,
"I always remember your kindness to the wild colt you allowed to come to your house. It was awfully nice of you, and I don't want to do anything horrid in return, but it would give me so much pleasure if you would buy your ball dresses out of this cheque. I know you are not rich, because Aunt Dove paid you for teaching me, but I know you and Mr. Hales would have done the same for me for nothing. I don't want to feel to-night that anyone is the poorer for my birthday party. Please accept my little present and don't be proud about it. Just for to-morrow I'm having a fling. There's several little things I've heard you say you wanted, but it's nicer to get what one likes oneself, isn't it? Will you find something Mr. Hales would like. Every now and then Pups bought me something just ridiculously beautiful, so that he might have the pleasure of seeing me wear it, but really these surprise presents were rather a trial to me, as he didn't know what girls appreciated. Please think of me when you say your prayers to-morrow, as this money will give me a lot of trouble, but I don't mean to funk it.
"YOUR AFFECTIONATE TONEY."
"What is the cheque?" asked Silvia eagerly. She noticed that her name was not mentioned. Toney was too honest to thank those who had disliked her.
"A hundred pounds. I cannot refuse it, it will help us so much; there's a new drawing-room carpet that I was puzzling how to get!" The Vicar laughed.
"Is that a ball dress, mother? Has Silvia a nice dress this evening, we must all look our best!"
"Both the girls will look nice, but this money will make my conscience easy. I had been thinking I was extravagant."
"I'll go and meet Amy at the station," exclaimed Silvia. "We can pay her journey now. Oh dear, money is useful, however much Frank proclaims the blessings of poverty."
The Vicar never argued with Silvia. He had often felt sorry his pretty sister could not have more advantages, and he knew all about Tom Nichols and the hopelessness of the love affair.
"We will give Toney a return of cheerful spirits," he said. "I shall go down early to Aldersfield with Waycott. We have consulted how best to help her. I believe Lady Dove pretends to know nothing about it all. Why can't people recognise their blessings?"
"Lady Dove's present blessing is Miss Crossman. You told me to make friends with her, but I really could not. She told me she preferred her own company when her duties were over, and she did not like to encroach on her walk and rest times," said Silvia.
They all laughed.
"I wonder if Toney will break that crust of ice," said Mrs. Hales thoughtfully.
"Artificial ice is impenetrable!" was the Vicar's answer.
Then they all went their various ways, but there was a warm glow in each of their hearts, though the reasons for it were different.
CHAPTER V.
PREPARATIONS.
The great barn behind Aldersfield House was the scene of much bustle and work on this eventful morning. Foremost among all the workers was Toney herself, dressed in a short serge dress covered with a big apron. She looked the picture of happiness, and even Aunt Dove's cold congratulations at breakfast had not been able to damp her spirits. Mrs. Faber was making "button-holes," whilst Toney was arranging flowers in vases with her deft magic touch to adorn the long tables. Men were putting up festoons among the dark rafters, and the brightest sunshine was pouring in at the door and windows.
"Won't it be lovely! and won't their eyes open! Gracious stars! What's this?"
A large box was being wheeled in, and Lewis Waycott came behind it with an amused smile on his face.
"Many happy returns," he said, as Toney flew to receive him. "I've brought you some flowers. I know you're particular about having the best." Two men were soon unpacking the box, and displayed a wealth of glorious blossoms, mostly exotics.
"Oh!" gasped Toney, "but—where did you get them?"
"I sent Graham for them to London. I thought your friends should see something new in the way of flowers!"
"That is awfully nice. I never thought of that. It will give them something to talk about, and I was just at my wits' end for more flowers; Aunt Dove doesn't like to denude her hot-houses, but oh, Mr. Waycott, just imagine, uncle went out very early and stole some! He did really, I saw him, but don't tell! and he sent them in as a present from Aunt Dove for my feast! I'm sure she knew nothing about it, so I mustn't thank her."
The two laughed heartily together, and then Lewis looked round at the transformed barn.
"Have you got my work marked out?"
"I should think so, but come round first and admire! Look at my birthday cake. It's all made of little cottages in sugar. It's my idea!"
"However is it to be cut?"
"You'll help, won't you? I just couldn't have got all ready without you, and your men have taken as deep an interest as our own."
"Of course, the invitation amply rewards them—— By the way, Toney, I've got a personal present for you; will you accept it?"
He dived into a pocket and brought out a small box.
Toney opened it and drew forth a locket surrounded with small diamonds, and within it was a beautifully painted miniature of Toney's father.
The girl looked up suddenly and her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Pups!" she gasped, "how did you get it?"
"Is it like? Mrs. Faber helped me. I believe she stole an old photograph you possess, and—you see your friends are all expert thieves!"
"I shall never forget this," she said, brushing the tears away with the back of her somewhat grimy hand, "and I shall always think of you two together. I think the artist must have been just inspired. If only he could come this evening, he'd have gone round to everyone of the guests and said something jolly."
"I'll try and take his place," said Lewis a little shyly, and then he seized a hammer and nails and was soon among the rafters with the other men. Sir Evas presently made his entrance and looked round.
"Why, Toney, this will be a fairy palace! I see you have already put your aunt's flowers in water."
"Yes, and look, uncle, at these leaves with them! I used to pick up the gold leaves when I was a tiny and bring them to Pups for his poor people. I really thought they were gold; but just see what Mr. Waycott has brought! Beautiful flowers to remind me of home, and crowds of orchids for your people to talk about. Isn't it scrumptious of him? He's done the real thinking."
"Good heavens, Toney, it must have cost him——"
"Oh, uncle, if you had grand visitors you'd think nothing of it, and poor folk are just as fond of flowers as 'ristocrats, now aren't they?"
"Well, really, I have never thought about it."
"And look what he's given me," and Toney opened the locket. "There aren't many men that would have thought of it, and besides, he's going to make himself awfully pleasant to our people to-night, and, uncle, you will too, won't you?"
"In so far as in me lieth, Toney," said Sir Evas doubtfully.
"Oh, yes, you can. Have you learnt that list of names I gave you? I put them quite plain, a column for the men and women and a column for the children. It took a deal of writing to get all the names of the children, you know, so I hope you've learnt them."
"You don't write very plain, Toney!"
"Oh, that's an excuse!" laughed Toney, "let me see, what's the name of Timothy Grant's fourth child? He's your cowman, uncle, so you really ought to know his children."
"Polly," answered Sir Evas, looking grave.
"Oh! why the eldest is Polly, there couldn't be two Pollys, you know. It's Marthyann, all in one, Mrs. Grant declares, she says she 'giv it out herself to Mr. 'ales.'"
"Is Marthyann coming, Toney, and shall I be expected to recognise her?"
"They'd just adore you if you were to go up straight to her and call her Marthyann, but it won't do if you go to the wrong one, so perhaps you'd better ask me first."
"But I assure you, Toney, your list was longer than my arm; it would want a royal memory to attempt it!"
"I think I've got them all right, but Jenny Varly's eldest boy is Tommy Varly, and John Todd's second boy is Tommy Todd, and they are cousins, and as like as two peas, and I do sometimes mistake them! But, uncle, there are no drones here, as you aren't very handy with your fingers, can you hold that box of nails for Phil Smith?"
"Well, for a few minutes. I've a lot to do this morning, and Mr. Staines is still requiring my services, and your new secretary is coming to-morrow, and your aunt is rather upset because the gardeners are all here, and——"
"I've left her Miss Grossman," answered Toney laughing, "she's a host in herself, and she told me she didn't hold by spoiling poor people! Why it's just the poor we ought to spoil! Don't you think so, uncle?"
Sir Evas pretended not to hear as he did not want Toney to bring up his remarks against him at some future time. He knew this was an inconvenient habit of hers, so he slipped out of the barn as soon as he could when she wasn't looking.
The workers went on with all speed. All had to be done by five o'clock when the guests would begin to arrive.
"I suppose you have had to hire the knives and spoons," said Lewis, coming down for a moment to contemplate his work.
"Yes. Uncle said I could have all the kitchen things, but—I—didn't want them, and Aunt Dove wouldn't hear of her plate being unearthed, so I've hired it all."
"Not real plate!"
Toney nodded.
"Yes, just real silver, and everything like lords and ladies, won't they be pleased? Something to remember!"
"I hope it won't disappear, Toney!"
"How can you suggest anything so unkind! You see the children have the other barn, and Mrs. Faber undertakes them. A child is always good with her. Isn't it odd? Do you see that Mr. Faber is hard at work there now with her? I shall want to cut myself in three pieces! Oh, I am so happy!"
Lewis glancing at her face did not doubt her happiness, but he could not echo the speech. Before Toney had become an heiress, Lewis had fallen in love with her, he had made her promise to give him something when he should ask for it, and then suddenly this terrible fortune had dropped down from the skies, and had set up a wall of division between him and the girl he admired as well as loved. No girl in his estimation could approach Toney in all the qualities he so much respected; he knew she was not a highly accomplished English young lady, she did not move with rhythmic beauty, she did not sing like a syren or play like Chopin, but she was just Toney, with splendid health and beauty of her own, and with a character which influenced nearly everyone that came in contact with her. Lewis knew that it was owing to her that his cottages were now in perfect repair, and that he now deserved better the name of a good landlord than he had done before. It was Toney's influence, Toney's example of doing her best for her neighbours with all her heart, that had awakened his conscience, and yet the Waycotts were very proud of their good name. He could not bear that it should be said he had married the heiress for money—and he knew Lady Dove would say it. Would the world believe that he had loved the wild colt who had first visited him with the poor companion? Toney had said herself people would want to marry her money, how should he be able to prove the contrary? Why had the old General ever taken a fancy to her?
He had not, however, to-day much time for thought, he could not even flatter himself that Toney connected him in the least with that kind of love, she was certainly heart-whole; would the awakening ever come, would blindfolded Cupid by chance let one of his arrows pierce her? Lewis could not answer this question. If only he might woo her, he thought that perhaps he could awaken the sleeping boy, but there lay the difficulty; he could not, he dared not face the bare idea of Toney's thinking and of saying—for she seldom hid her thoughts—
"Oh, it's only my money you care about!" He must wait, and in the meantime what if someone bolder or less scrupulous won her!
As Lewis hurried to the hall to pick up some possessions before going home to lunch, he came face to face with Lady Dove.
"I've been helping to decorate," he said, to account for his presence.
"It is very kind of you, I'm sure, Mr. Waycott, though it was quite unnecessary to trouble you. Antonia is most thoughtless; I can't get a man or a boy to do anything to-day. She has got them all."
"They look uncommonly lively over it."
"I daresay, anything is better than one's plain duty. However, it will be over to-morrow." Lady Dove heaved a sigh.
"It's very kind of you to keep open house," said Lewis, not knowing what to say.
"I don't wish to get credit when it's not deserved. Antonia will pay for it all. The General left her a great deal of money, you know."
"I suppose so," said Lewis, screwing his stick round on the gravel.
"Yes, indeed; I don't quite know how much, because my poor husband has done nothing else these last four years but attend to all this wretched money. I assure you I never could get any of his company, and somehow he was fortunate in some land speculations, which he never was with his own."
"Sir Evas said he would quite miss the occupation."
"Well, I for one shall be glad for him. He looks ten years older. It's perfectly ridiculous to wear yourself out; and he never gets a penny by it, of course. He is quite morbidly particular about money. He always says he never would have married me if I had been an heiress. He does so hate that modern habit of heiress hunting."
"I don't think anyone would think Sir Evas was paid for his kindness."
"There are so many evil tongues, Mr. Waycott; one hears such extraordinary things. Already I've had two or three names mentioned to me as likely to pay court to Antonia—for her money, of course."
"It will be certainly a bar to disinterested affection," answered Lewis. He would like to have used his stick on Lady Dove's head. She smiled graciously.
"I have seldom met such a thing, Mr. Waycott. I shall be very much interested when I do! Poor Antonia must not expect to meet it, for certainly she has not charm or beauty to attract a man simply for herself."
"Good morning, Lady Dove. I must hurry off. My aunts will be waiting."
"Tell dear Mrs. Hamilton that I shall expect her to take pity on me this evening. Good-bye; so kind of you to have come."
Lewis hurried home in no enviable mood, and he slashed the unoffending hemlock heads with savage fury, wishing he were inflicting punishment "on that old cat."
"She meant me to understand her insinuations, of course. Well, she need not be afraid. Of course I saw through her; I'm not a blind ass."
CHAPTER VI.
REAL SILVER.
When Lewis Waycott entered the dining-room of Waycott Hall the same people were seated at the table as on the memorable day when Toney had rushed in late to luncheon. These were his devoted Aunt Honoria and her widowed sister, Mrs. Hamilton, who was somewhat of a "soft pussy cat," as Toney had once described her. Her two daughters, Jeanie and Maud, were still unmarried, much to her disappointment. Jeanie played first violin at amateur concerts, and Maud, with less talent, stepped into the breach when somebody had failed. The sisters belonged to the large army of musical people whose performances are just not good enough to be valuable, though Jeanie had real talent. Maud was pretty and gentle, but both sisters had imbibed their mother's pride of birth, all the greater because of their poverty. Mrs. Hamilton was a Waycott of Waycott Hall, and her husband belonged to a very old Scotch family. They might be poor, but they were of the bluest blood, and because of this Jeanie had ruined her happiness. Four years ago a musician who was "nobody in particular," except that his genius had raised him to eminence, had fallen in love with Jeanie and had made her an offer, but the Hamilton pride prevented her saying yes. She did not even dare tell her mother she loved him. How could Jeanie Hamilton marry a man whose parents had once kept a shop? It was impossible! The ghost of that shop haunted her, even though Frank Weston had long since pensioned his parents. Certainly the great people idolized Frank Weston, crowds filled any hall where he chose to play his violin, but how could Jeanie Hamilton accept his parents? Mrs. Hamilton gently smiled as she said, "Impossible."
Frank Weston was not poor, for he earned a great deal of money, but he was born a plebeian. Mrs. Hamilton had repeated and dictated Jeanie's refusal for her, and he had not even the satisfaction of seeing again the girl he worshipped. He had, however, guessed the truth, and, deeply wounded, he made no further effort to win her, but he could not forget her. On her part, Jeanie was always arguing the question with herself. Of course her mother had been right, but as time went on the girl began to realise that she had thrown away her happiness. Her heart was breaking and her health was giving way. Maud, too, was as soft wax in her mother's hands, and Mrs. Hamilton meant her to marry her cousin Lewis, and to be the mistress of Waycott Hall. She had taken the girls to Dresden to finish their musical education, but now she had come back intending to marry Maud to Lewis and find a suitable match for Jeanie. When Aunt Delia determined to do something she was seldom known to fail, but she never mentioned it to her sister Honoria, because she was so supremely happy as mistress of Waycott Hall that she did not wish her beloved nephew to marry anyone—at least, not yet, though of course the time for marriage must come some day, in order to carry on the succession of the old family of the Waycotts of Waycott Hall.
"How late you are, dear boy," exclaimed Miss Honoria, who, knowing every expression of her nephew's face, saw he was not in his best mood.
"I am sorry, Lady Dove hindered me a few minutes."
"It's most good-natured of you to go and help at Aldersfield," said Aunt Delia softly. "Maud offered to go, but Antonia Whitburn said she had enough helpers. I expect she prefers masculine help."
"Naturally, for standing on high ladders! The barn will astonish you, Aunt Delia. Already it is like fairyland, and imagine, Aunt Honoria, Toney has hired real plate for the poor people's dinner."
"Lady Dove would not lend hers, I expect," said Miss Honoria.
"Of course she would not! Imagine the expense though, and it will be all on the same scale. Toney sees no difference between poor and rich."
"It shows how unfit she is to deal with money," said Mrs. Hamilton decidedly. "It is a real misfortune that old man left her his money."
"Yes, it certainly is," echoed Lewis firmly.
"She will make a mess of the whole thing, either she will give it foolishly away, or she will be widely extravagant! She will never be like other people," continued Aunt Delia.
"Never!" echoed Lewis.
"I suppose my pale blue dress will do," said Maud, turning to her mother.
"You look sweet in it, dear, don't you think so, Lewis?"
"Why Maud looks well in everything," said Lewis, cheerfully nodding at his cousin. "Well, I must soon be off again. Here's a list of things Toney wants you to lend her, Aunt Honoria."
"Yes, certainly," answered Miss Honoria, for she secretly admired Toney, though she dared not let her sister know this. It was a pity Delia was so much prejudiced against this girl.
"How foolish of you, Honoria—if your things get stolen you can't blame anyone but yourself. Are you willing, Lewis, if so, Maudie will go with you and help to carry the things?"
Lewis did not want Maud, but could not refuse.
"I shall tire Maud for I am walking."
"Oh no, I shall want some fresh air before the dance. How hot it will be in the barn!"
"You girls must fill up your programmes early," said Mrs. Hamilton pointedly.
"Oh, Toney won't have any! She says people must dance as the spirit moves them."
"How inconvenient. Well, anyhow, Lewis, you'll see the girls get partners."
"No fear! Think of all the tenants dying to trip it with such fair damsels!"
"One has to pretend one likes it," said Jeanie languidly; "but it's not at all enjoyable."
"I asked Toney to let me go off with Sally the kitchenmaid, but she wouldn't agree; she says I must foot it with Mrs. Goodman, the housekeeper. She weighs two tons at least and all the men fight shy of her." Lewis' good temper had returned, and he was now ready to make fun of everything. "But there is dancing in the dining-room, too, isn't there?" said Jeanie.
"We shall dance everywhere 'till gunpowder comes out of the heels of our boots,'" answered Lewis.
"Now do be sensible, Lewis. There will be, I hear, many of the county folks," said Mrs. Hamilton, thinking that Jeanie might meet someone eligible.
"I believe so. Lord and Lady Southbourne are coming, I know, and their eldest son, and George Lathom and heaps more. Oh, the Carews, of course; I heard Lady Carew saying the other day that nothing should prevent her coming to Toney's coming of age."
"I really think it strange they all flock to a sort of party like this when they come as seldom as possible to the house at other times," said Miss Honoria.
"Honestly, Aunt Honoria, you wouldn't miss Toney's party yourself, would you, and you know you only go very seldom to call on Lady Dove."
"I declare, Lewis, you are getting as direct as Toney herself," laughed Miss Honoria.
"I know Lady Dove is shuddering as to what is to happen to-night. She says, 'you never know with Toney,' and that is a truer word than she often says!"
"I expect all this fuss and this money will turn Antonia Whitburn's head," said Mrs. Hamilton, who was jealous, but too ladylike to show it openly.
"Turn Toney's head, Aunt Delia! You little know her, I really believe she no more thinks of money as bringing her any personal advantage than she would think that—putting a crown on her head would make her a queen."
"You always were good-natured in defending poor Harum Scarum," answered his Aunt Delia; "and I'm sure she needs a few friends to do it. Mrs. Hales told me she saw no change in Toney's character in spite of all the places they sent her to in order to improve her."
Lewis laughed heartily, and then rose to go. "Well, Maud, come along, I'm off. I'll order the dog-cart to bring us back so as to have time to dress. You will all come later."
"Seeing poor people stuff doesn't interest me at all," said Jeanie; but Maud, who now always took her cue from Lewis, exclaimed,
"I should like to go early if the carriage can go, twice. I'll bring my violin and play something for them if Toney likes."
"What a good idea," said Lewis brightly. "The carriage can certainly take us early and go back for the lazy ladies."
"Please don't kill yourself, my dear boy," said Miss Waycott with a smile. She was torn between the pleasure of seeing Lewis happy and interested, and the fear of her sister Delia thinking her very foolish. It is never easy to hunt with the hounds and run with the hare.
As the cousins were crossing the Park (having had special though private permission from Sir Evas to come that way whenever they liked) Lewis was smiling to himself.
"Poor Toney," he said presently, "I believe she will regret even the terrible days of her first arrival at Aldersfield. This beastly money will swallow up all her time, and Sir Evas has dug up an Australian secretary for her. I hope he'll not be too much of a cad."
"It will be like a novel, and he'll fall in love with her and marry her," said Maud. "She would like an Australian, and he would understand her strange ways."
"Perhaps; but I haven't heard that the Australians are less self-seeking than other people. I think Toney is a rara avis."
"It does seem a little hard on Lady Dove to have fallen on this rare bird!" said Maud, laughing softly. She was so pretty and womanly that Lewis noticed her with pleasure. He liked Maud much better than Jeanie, who always looked discontented, but the idea of marrying either of them had never entered his head.
"It was awfully nice of you, Maud, to think of playing to Toney's people. I'm sure she will be delighted, but don't waste your pity on Lady Dove!"
"The new companion is a tyrant, I hear; I want to see her. Mother thinks it rather silly of Toney to make such a fuss over Mrs. Faber. It will make her very uppish. That class of people, mother says, never can stand much notice."
Lewis laughed aloud.
"Pray, Maud, form your own opinions and don't quote those of other people. Use your eyes to-day, and see what the Fabers are like. Mrs. Faber has developed so wonderfully you would not know her for the same person, though she is still somewhat afraid of Lady Dove, which is not surprising. That woman is simply odious."
Very soon they reached Aldersfield, and Lewis conducted his cousin to the barn where he had worked so hard. The preparations were drawing to a close, and at that moment Toney herself dashed out with a hammer in her hand.
"Why, Toney, you look like Sisera going to do the deed! Is there anything I can get?"
"Oh, you'll do for audience beautifully, I was just going to fetch Mrs. Horner, but she is dreadfully busy. It's to hear Uncle Dove rehearse his speech. We've put up the platform for him and all, and now he declares he can't make a speech—but he must. Now do, Maud, you'll represent the ladylike portion. Poor uncle is so shy, and only says 'Hum, hum!'"
They entered the barn, where Sir Evas was indeed looking supremely unhappy.
"Oh, Waycott, I'm glad you've come. Toney declares I must make a speech and it's quite beyond me!"
"Oh yes you can, dear, ducky uncle. Just say something that you really mean out of your heart."
"That they won't make themselves ill with over-eating!"
"Oh, that's horrid, you wouldn't say that at your own table—but look, Mr. Waycott, what do you think of the whole?"
"Oh!" exclaimed Maud, "why it's too beautiful for them, and everything silver, and, oh, what lovely silver dishes!"
Lewis gave Maud a little nudge; he knew this speech would be like gunpowder to Toney.
"Too beautiful! Of course not! How can anything be too beautiful? Aren't these flowers exquisite, Mr. Waycott? That was all your doing."
"But it's like a grand dinner party," urged Maud.
"And so it is, a very grand dinner party. Do you see the little roses, and the napkins folded like lilies? The servants have just been awfully nice over it all, and the button-holes are ready for the men and a little posy for the ladies. I'm just a wee bit afraid about the children, but Chum says I'm to trust her."
"May I play something for them on the violin?" asked Maud eagerly.
"Oh, how lovely, yes; but—not one of your long fugues, please. Something they'd all like, just a brisk jig or imitation of bagpipes."
Maud looked upon herself as a good player, but she nobly hid her disgust.
"I see, a good stirring dance."
"Yes, just at first, something that will unloose their tongues, and that they can talk all through it till the dance begins. Now, Uncle Evas, it's your turn. You must practise your speech. Mr. Waycott, just sit there to represent the men, and Maud will do the stuck-ups, and I'll do the women. It must suit us all, uncle. You can just say how awfully glad you are to see them, and that Toney Whitburn is too, and that—no, I'll make my own, you'd go wrong."
Happily for Sir Evas a footman entered at the moment, and announced that Lady Dove said would Sir Evas go at once, and see her on business.
CHAPTER VII.
THE VISITORS ARRIVE.
"What is the programme?" asked Maud, catching Toney's enthusiasm.
"Uncle Evas, and any of us who like, will sit down to dinner here, then, when they are well started, we shall go to dine in the house, and hurry a little to begin the dancing here. Poor people do like having plenty of time to eat, so I think we can manage it all."
"When is Sir Evas to make his speech?"
"Just between their meat and pudding. It will help them to digest, and they do like to hear speeches, so I'm going to make one, and anybody else who feels moved. Won't you, Mr. Waycott?"
"But they are not my tenants, Toney."
"But they are your neighbours, and we ought to love our neighbour as ourself."
"I expect my people will be very jealous!" answered Lewis laughing.
"Then you can have a party of your own. I'll come and help you in return."
"That's a promise, but I don't know what Aunt Honoria would say!"
"Oh! My visitors are going to—— No, I won't tell you as you might let it out to Aunt Dove. Uncle Evas gave leave, but——"
At this moment Sir Evas walked in, followed by Lady Carew.
"Oh! what a fairy palace!" exclaimed her ladyship. "Where is Miss Whitburn? I've come to beg you to let me see all the fun, but I didn't expect this! My husband is coming later, but I rebelled."
Lady Carew's face was all smiles. She had never forgotten Toney's first tea-party at Aldersfield, besides the story of Toney's fortune and her coming of age was known to everyone for miles round. Toney gave one of her quick searching looks and settled that Lady Carew meant all she said.
"Well, that is nice of you! You haven't come because I've got such a heap of money! Oh dear! Uncle Evas, I do believe I see somebody arriving in the distance."
Sir Evas looked too.
"Good heavens, Toney! it's the avant garde. Much too early!"
"But you are glad they should enjoy themselves as long as possible, aren't you, and you said you wanted them to see your house, and you know—— Did you tell Mr. Diggings!"
"Tell him what, Toney?" whispered Lewis, who was prepared for a surprise.
"That the house is open to everybody to-day! Fancy, Lady Carew, ever so many of uncle's tenants have never been in the house at all! So now Uncle Evas has been awfully kind, and said Aldersfield should be thrown open, only——"
Sir Evas had hurried off.
"Only what?" laughed Lewis, who had jumped to conclusions.
"He wouldn't tell Aunt Dove, so I want my friends to act as sentinels at her door! and we must all take parties round. No one is to see this fairy palace till six!"
"Doesn't Lady Dove know?" asked Lady Carew smiling, "pray let me personally conduct as I have never seen all the house either. I know there are fine pictures."
"Well, no, Aunt Dove doesn't know. She would just have squirmed a bit at seeing so many of them all about. I've just run round to open all the doors, but I posted a warning near Aunt Dove's door. Oh, I do hope she is safe for a long time. She said she was going to rest, and Miss Grossman is reading to her."
Maud and Lady Carew could not help laughing.
"Won't they do funny things?" asked Maud "You know, Lewis, your aunts wouldn't let your tenants roam about the house!"
"I'm afraid Toney will insist, but please let it be in the summer-time."
"It would be nicer for them, but I couldn't help my birthday, could I? Just look down the drive, it's getting black with people. I'll run round here first. Mr. Waycott, will you see if the children's room is done, then we must all work and just talk and explain everything, and please, Lady Carew pretend you know them all as there isn't time to introduce."
In another moment there was a scuffle and rush round, which Trick seemed to think, judging by his barking, was done specially to amuse him, and then at the open front door and on the top of the stone steps, Toney, Trick, and their special friends might be seen with very smiling faces, standing to receive the first batch of visitors, though looking down the drive the stream seemed continuous and thick. It must be owned that the guests were very quiet and very shy, and the procession resembled a funeral much more than the beginning of a most novel party. Never had half the visitors come so near the big house, but then never had they been invited. They all clutched their invitation cards as if they were talismen. Toney had stationed the young footman at the bottom of the stairs to receive the cards, but there the first hitch occurred.
A very sheepish labourer in his very best clothes shook his head as the footman held out his hand to receive the card.
"'Tis only to show you, young man," he said in a loud whisper.
"Will you kindly give it to me," was the answer. "I have to collect them."
"No, that you b'aint, I'm a-going to keep it; I've promised my lad I'll frame it for 'im."
The second guest seeing the difficulty refused even to show his card.
"We be a-going to frame it too. If you can't a-read it just to get the name in your head, I can't help you no further."
"Miss Whitburn said they were to be collected."
These two rebels had stopped the stream, and Lewis, seeing something was happening, dashed down to the rescue.
"Afternoon, sir; the young man wants my card of invitation from Miss Toney herself. I'd rather not come than give it to 'im."
Lewis was convulsed but soon set matters right.
"Pray keep them, but just show them as you come up. Miss Whitburn is waiting up there for you."
"'T'aint likely we'd give it up to he," said yet another visitor, casting looks of contempt on the footman who had tried to steal their precious cards.
The children, open-mouthed, clung to their parents, but the Thomas girls had been put first as they knew Miss Toney so well.
Up they came, men, women, and children, all sizes, dressed in varied costumes, and all staring hard at Toney, who, in her simple morning dress, was beaming with pleasure, and her eyes seemed to dance with glee.
"How do you do? How do you? Oh, Mr. Grant, it is good of you to come with your lame foot. Mrs. Chapman, the children are to go to their big room straight, lots of amusements for them, and they'll be well taken care of. Lady Carew and Miss Maud Hamilton have come to entertain you. Oh please, Mrs. Curtis, do shake hands (Mrs. Curtis was curtseying). What a lovely nosegay! How kind of you. Now, Miss Hamilton, will you take the first party round the house. There are about thirty here," and Maud went off.
"How do you do? This is nice of you to come. You're to go round the house anywhere except in Lady Dove's room, she's got a headache or something."
"Shan't we hurt the carpets, miss, with our boots?" said a patient looking woman, "and here's some of our last roses, miss, for your birthday. I'm sure we all wish you a very, very long life."
"Thank you ever so much," and Toney was already holding an arm-full of very tight posies. "Now, Mr. Waycott, will you take the second party. Show them my little room at the top of the house for they can see the tops of their cottages and chimneys from there. Sir Evas is coming soon. He had to see a bit to everything. Dinner's very punctual at six, so please don't stop too long."
Lewis Waycott obeyed. He had come there to obey to-day, and it was no good to think of shyness with Toney there. She was really happy with these people, and could not have been condescending to them had she tried. These poor cottagers, whose dull lives were seldom varied, were to have a real good day, and enjoy themselves, that was the idea that filled Toney's mind. Her one anxiety was the fear that Lady Dove would wake and come forth. At last the stream left off and only a few stragglers appeared. Toney was keeping the last batch for herself, and the children were now safely housed in the barn house, listening spell-bound to a ventriloquist with Mrs. Faber in charge. She was indeed happy, there was a great affinity between herself and children. The tea-tables were spread, and the enjoyment of the little ones was doubled by secret glances at the good things which would soon find their way down their throats.
"Hulloa!" called out the ventriloquist, putting his head up a chimney, "are you there, Bill, why don't you come down? I say, what's to day?" "A coming of old age." "You silly, not old age, a coming of age." "Whose coming?" "Well, it ain't my coming, for I ain't a-coming for anyone"—and so on till the children clapped and shouted, for suddenly Miss Toney herself appeared like a sudden burst of sunshine, and stayed ten minutes making fun.
"Oh, Chum, aren't they happy?"
"I should think they were," echoed Mrs. Faber.
Yes, the children were happy and tea followed very soon, and after tea a conjurer, and then the children were all fetched home by the neighbours from the other half of the village or by elder girls. After this Mrs. Faber slipped away to get ready for the dinner and the dance.
In the meanwhile the multitude of fathers and mothers were tramping round the great house with wide open eyes and cautious feet. To walk on Turkey carpets and look at the beautiful pictures and china the gentry looked at every day, was a new experience. It must be said that Toney's party had a real treat, because she did showman in a very amusing style.
"It must be nice, miss, to live in such a wonderful house," said a poor woman whose home was not a thing of joy.
"It's a job to keep it clean though," said Toney, "for my part I'd rather have a wee cottage if I had the work to do. I used to keep our cottage nice, and I would rather be you for that, but I guess if we can't keep a cottage nice we should make a poor hand at keeping a big place like this spick and span."
"Don't seem worth while, miss, to spend time on our poor places."
"Oh, but it is. Pups used to say that a cottage was the most healthy place in the world if the doors and windows were always open to let in God's sunshine, and if God's sunshine found no dust when it did get in there. I'll tell you what, Mrs. Smith, we'll start a society for the brightest cottage in uncle's part of the village. I'll give a beautiful prize for the best kept and you must win it."
"Oh, miss!" exclaimed Mrs. Smith of the sorrowful countenance, "the children do dirty things so."
"But they'll want you to win the prize. We'll have a model village, never fear. I'm first-rate at cleaning kettles and can teach you." Mrs. Smith began mentally scrubbing at once. Toney had another question to answer.
"If you please, miss," said a labourer, nodding towards a picture representing nymphs dancing, very scantily clothed, "it must be a warm country where ladies have so little clothing on for dancing. I suppose 'tis the fashion there." Toney laughed.
"Oh, they are not real people, the artist just wanted to think of the spirit of the wood. He means to represent all the happy thoughts one has in a lovely lonely wood."
The man shook his head slowly. He found it difficult to grasp the new idea of making your happy thoughts dance in light clothing.
"They be wonderfully tricky, the painters, miss. There was a gentleman who come to paint in the village last summer, and who took our Ann's picture without shoes nor stockings. I begged him not to show it to the neighbours as our Ann never do go bare-foot."
"But it's very healthy, Mr. Carter. I used to run about without shoes and stockings when I was young. I wish I could now, but you see——"
At this moment there was a cry heard from the end of the passage, where Toney and her party and Mr. Waycott and his party were just converging.
"Antonia! Antonia!"
Toney was in front of a paper on which was written, "Please walk on tip-toe down this passage." Now the tip-toes of many persons are not noiseless and in the gathering twilight it had not been observed.
"Gracious stars!" exclaimed Tony darting down the passage, "it's Aunt Dove who has done her rest!"
It was indeed Lady Dove and Miss Grossman who were standing in the doorway, looking at the retreating figures with faces full of displeasure.
"Antonia, who are these people?"
"Please, Aunt Dove, don't be frightened. They are not robbers, it's your own tenants you know, just taking a peep round. But they are going down now, and it's just dinner-time. Won't you come and see the entry?"
"Certainly not. I am quite upset enough. Our dinner is at half-past seven, and I hope you will be ready. As to all those common people tramping on my carpets——"
"Please don't let them hear you, Aunt Dove," pleaded Toney, "they would be so distressed, for, honour bright! they've behaved better than princes and princesses."
"I do not think your education or your bringing up ever brought you in contact with princes, Antonia—Miss Grossman, pray read on again, the maids are all taken from me and I shall not be able to dress till just before dinner."
Miss Grossman looked most unwilling to accede to the request.
"I do not object for once to reading for twenty minutes longer, Lady Dove, after that I must have my free time."
Toney did not wait to hear the stormy discussion that followed.
"It is lucky Aunt Dove won't appear," thought Toney. "Oh, Mr. Waycott, follow me on tip-toe, please, or a bomb will explode, but they have enjoyed themselves."
Lewis literally obeyed, and Toney, smothering her laughter, hurried downstairs with him.
CHAPTER VIII.
A JOLLY GOOD FELLOW.
Toney made a dash to her bedroom where Rose was waiting to help her into her white dress. It was very pretty and very simple, with soft lace round the base of the neck showing off the pose of the head and Toney's lovely hair.
"Miss Toney, you do look nice," exclaimed Rose, "what will you wear round your neck?"
"My birthday present of course—Pup's picture. You can't think how I value it."
"Won't you wear this coral bracelet for luck, Miss Toney?"
"Yes, it is Mrs. Faber's present, it belonged to her great aunt, whose dress I once wore when I first came," and Toney laughed at the recollection. "Now, I have not one minute more as uncle is going to walk me in. The people will like it so. They love a show-off. Run, Rose, and get ready for waiting on them. I wish I might do some of the waiting, but uncle wouldn't hear of it, and also it would look too much like a school feast. Oh, give me some of those flowers the dear people brought to-day. Wasn't it sweet of them, because they know I love flowers better than anything."
Toney and Rose each flew down different ways. For one instant Toney was even tempted to slide down the balusters as in old days, but remembered her frock in time.
"I wish I could feel old—I suppose I shall when I'm seventy. Oh dear, where is Uncle Evas, I expect——"
She knocked softly at his dressing-room door and stooping down spoke through the keyhole. "Uncle Evas! Hullo, are you there?"
She heard him cross the room on tip-toe, then he very softly opened the door.
"Yes, Toney, I'm ready. Don't disturb your aunt, she is dressing. I don't think she will be ready for your first dinner."
"But you are, come along, and I say, uncle, you'll really eat, won't you, because they will think you're too proud if you don't."
"I've never dined at six o'clock before, Toney. It's a great trial to one's digestion, but I'll try. Now, tell me the programme."
"I've got them all in the hall and in the passages waiting to go to the barn. Come on, uncle! You mustn't keep your guests waiting."
Sir Evas wished himself anywhere but among so many guests. He knew that his wife might appear in no enviable mood; but Toney had him well in hand. Escape was impossible. Putting on as good expression of welcome as he could, he followed her obediently. Their appearance at the top of the staircase had a magical effect. All heads were turned towards the vision of their Miss Toney in an evening dress, its very simplicity making the angel idea more perfect to them, for the greater part had never seen a young lady in an evening dress except in illustrated magazines. But this vision was by no means like a novelette heroine, calm, beautiful, and stately, whilst Toney never guessed she was worthy of admiration, her one thought being that it was just six o'clock.
"Here we are! Sir Evas is so glad to welcome you all, and he's so glad you've seen all his house. If you don't mind we'll lead the way to dinner. People generally go two and two, but please don't bother about that, it always seems to me like the animals in the ark." And Toney's merry laugh made everybody feel at home as, taking her uncle's arm she crossed the hall.
At this moment, Lewis, Lady Carew, Maud and the Fabers, and the Hales came out of the small drawing-room. They were not going to miss this part of the entertainment, having nobly done their duty as showmen.
"Oh, how nice—Mr. Hales, you know everybody, will you just go about the middle and Mr. Waycott bring up the rear, and Mr. Tarrant, will you give your arm to Lady Carew and set a good example."
Lady Carew meant to do the whole thing properly, for she knew she would be only one of a crowd at Toney's coming of age party; in spite of this she felt glad her lord and master was not there to see her introduced to the bailiff, who blushed purple and offered her his arm, and held hers very tightly as if he had been specially cautioned to see that she did not run away. Maud, Silvia, and Mrs. Faber took the first-comers, but as the male parts of the procession were quite uncertain as to which arm to give to the ladies, but yet were determined minutely to follow their leader, there were several chassé croisé during the short distance to the barn, accompanied by the nervous apology of "Excuse me, miss, but I think we're wrong. Miss Toney said we were to follow her, and I be on her side instead of t'other."
The other ladies and gentlemen, though they had leave to come anyhow, would not be singular, and whispered jokes might have been heard such as, "Now, doey take he," "We ain't quite of the right age, Mr. Jones," "'Tis wonderful how the gentry remembers all these puzzling habits, ain't it? Miss Toney looks like as if she'd just come down from heaven. She be a rare 'un, 'tain't likely there's another like her in England, now is it? We don't know nothing about furrin countries, but I'll take my oath there's none in England like her."
"Nor Scotland, Ireland, nor Wales," said a young man who was a "mighty scholard." "Well to be sure I was forgetting t'others of the family, but the Scotch are very close-fisted, and the Orish is too cranky, and the Welsh speaks gibberish, 'tain't likely there's any like her in their countries."
But already the middle and tail of the procession silenced by a sudden exclamation from the foremost guests. The doors were flung open and all at once the dazzling lights revealed a scene none had even dreamt of for beauty and gloriousness. Lady Carew was the first to exclaim.
"How lovely! Look at the flowers. How wonderful!"
Mr. Farrant opened his mouth, but what came from it was, "Bless my soul and body!"
And then behind and behind came various "Lors! Me stars! Bless me's! Did you evers!" Of course the helpers were more prepared, but even they had not seen it fully lighted up. On and on they came, the guests, the buzz growing into a blast, the blast into a hurricane of words, but by this time Toney had dragged her uncle on to the platform and was standing by him, seeing from her vantage ground that everybody was seated. This was by no means as easy as it appeared. The partners got mixed at the entrance, and thought it a point of honour to find each other again, and, what with their anxiety and the astonishment they did not know how to express adequately, Toney's guests were in danger of not sitting down at all. Mr. Hales came to the rescue, mounted the platform and called out, "Ladies and gentlemen, will you stand whilst I say grace, and then sit down where you find yourselves."
"Praise God from Whom all blessings flow," began the clerk, not waiting for Mr. Hales, and a great sound of thanksgiving rose among the rafters. These guests at least were thankful even for the sight of their dinner!
"Thank you, Mr. Hales, I believe we should never have sat down but for you! Now, uncle, come and take your place at the head of the table with me, and mind you eat a bit of everything, you know!"
"But indeed I don't know, Toney. What's the menu? Ah! I see, good Lord! Ox-tail soup, pheasant, beef. What else?"
But now another hitch occurred, no one would begin till Toney, in despair, seized a spoon and began herself in earnest. The guests looked at her and looked at each other, then with an evident effort and sigh of content began the work of eating. The rest came naturally, at least there was no longer any effort, and "the rich viands," as the reporter chronicled afterwards, quickly disappeared.
Toney had not reckoned with time, however, and it was seven before the meats were done, and then came the pause to bring on the sweets.
"Uncle, now's the time, you know; have you got it all right?"
"No, I haven't, and for goodness sake, let's have no speeches, there isn't time, the other guests will be coming soon, and—your aunt——"
"There's heaps of time, uncle, screw your courage up, you know, and they will be so pleased. Remember to begin about being awfully delighted."
The many waiters stood to attention, having been duly warned, and a sudden hush fell on the company. Poor Sir Evas felt as if he were being led to execution as he found himself on the platform, this time without Toney. His speech had clean gone out of his head except Toney's two words, "awfully delighted," and that did not sound quite dignified. "Hum, hum, I'm awfully delighted—hum—to see you here to-night, but I hope, my friends, you all understand that this is my niece's doing on her coming of age. We men are rather up a tree when our female relations determine to do something, and as people rarely come of age, hum (that is idiotic), I mean only once in their lives, Miss Whitburn has had her way. I hope you'll all think it a very good way." (Cheers and thumps.)
"Never was one for speaking wasn't Sir Evas. There's folks 'as got oily tongues and some as 'asn't." This from a sympathetic old lady.
"Time's getting on (that's idiotic too), so I must say no more than I hope you will always remember this dinner, and I wish you all to drink the health of my niece, Toney Whitburn."
A great cheering and drinking of health, with a perfect clatter of glasses, followed. Toney was deeply disappointed, she had prepared such a lovely speech for her uncle, and he had declared he would say it, or "words to that effect," but he hadn't! She didn't want him to have mentioned her, but all about the guests themselves.
In another moment Toney had sprung on the platform, and then there was such a noise as never was, and simultaneously they all rose and sang, "For she's a jolly good fellow," the only known equivalent in the English language for great approval.
The words were nothing, as we know, but it was the great feeling of love which upset Toney. All her own lovely speech fled out of her head, and the view became misty. She felt as if she was far away on the Australian land and that her father was close beside her saying, "Courage, Toney, you know I hate tears." Then with the back of her hand she brushed away something that was nearly falling and took courage.
"Thank you very much, kind friends, for giving me such a jolly chorus on my birthday. I have given you a dinner such as I wish you had every day, at least, no, not quite, but I want you to remember to-day because if I were to forget it there would be ever so many of you to remind me of my duty. Without Sir Evas you wouldn't have had this entertainment, because it was he who insisted on his penniless niece coming over here, and when the dear old General left me his money to spend on other people, because he died and couldn't do it himself, well, then Sir Evas took all the trouble of it—and money is an awful trouble—and he's been helping me for weeks to arrange everything, and he really is a "jolly good fellow"—— Great stamping of feet and great shouting, as if Toney had made a tremendous good joke, and then a wild beginning again of "For he's a jolly good fellow," till Mr. Hales begged for silence, and Toney, convulsed with laughter, beckoned to Lewis Waycott and Mr. Hales to come up to her, which they both did.
"Toney, go on," said Lewis, "they want some more."
"I daren't. Uncle is fidgeting. Time's nearly up. Aren't grandees a bother? Mr. Hales, it's your turn now."
"Just wish them a happy evening," said Mr. Hales smiling.
Then Toney went a step forward, and the hubbub ceased like magic.
"I haven't anything more to say except to wish you a jolly evening and plenty of dancing after the dinner is cleared away, and oh, one thing, I want you to give a chorus for Dr. Latham, who is, as you know, the best doctor in the county. I know it because my father was a doctor, and the very best in the world. He never thought of himself, and I like people to know about Pups, who was a hero, and if you please I should like you to give a chorus for Trick, who came with me, and has been my dear friend ever since, and for his sake I hope you will be kind to all animals, as they do care and understand nearly everything—at least Trick does. That's all, and time is up."
Such a chorus followed, but this time Sir Evas was firm, and left the platform to Mr. Hales and Lewis Waycott, and led Toney forcibly down the centre of the room, though she had to seize and shake many hands on the way, promising right and left to come back and dance when the other dinner was over.
Once outside the barn, it must be told that Sir Evas and Toney raced to the house and ran up the steps just as a carriage and pair of bays pulled up. Happily, they slipped in without being seen, only when Sir Evas joined his wife in the drawing-room, he and Toney panted audibly.
"Evas, you are really too bad to be so late; Lord Southbourne's carriage is at the door."
"Yes, I know, Melina; but we are in time, so where's the harm?"
"I should have had to receive them alone if you hadn't come——"
"Lord and Lady Southbourne and the Honourable Edward Lang," announced the footman, and Lady Dove became affable.
"How do you do? How very kind of you to come. Here is the young lady who has come of age to-day. The neighbourhood has responded so kindly. Do come to this sofa, Lady Southbourne."
Lord Southbourne had never seen Toney before. The family had only lately come to the neighbourhood, but this is what he heard her saying,
"I wish you hadn't come quite so early; we were having such a nice time with the tenants, but you will come and dance presently, won't you?"
"We have all come to do your bidding," said Lord Southbourne, kindly giving Toney a bow; but his son laughed.
"We heard marvellous tales of your entertainment, Miss Whitburn," said he. "My father thinks you'll make our tenants' dinners blush in future."
"Anyhow, the people are happy," said Toney; fanning herself vigorously. "They've given us four 'jolly good fellows' already, and it's hot work, I can tell you."
CHAPTER IX.
A BARN DANCE.
The dinner party which Lady Dove had arranged was very select, with a few exceptions. She meant to reap some social benefits from Toney's coming of age in order to make up for the "most unnecessary fuss over the poor people." This evening she was quite gracious and pleasant to everyone at her own dinner table. It must be owned, too, that Toney was for the moment rather tired and sleepy, and glad to sit still and almost silent between Mr. Hales and Lewis Waycott, so that the aristocratic party were quite surprised to see only a bright-haired young lady in snowy white, behaving very decorously. Strange stories had, of course, gathered round Toney's personality, one of which was that she was a terrible Socialist, a character which, in this part of the country, almost put the owner of it out of the pale of society. But to be kind to the poor was simply a duty, and an entertainment to the tenants was a time-honoured institution which no one could reasonably object to. Of course these aristocratic people had not beheld Toney's dinner table, for they would have been truly shocked to see rare flowers and shining silver set before the lower orders; moreover, they would have felt that pheasants were eternally disgraced by having appeared on that occasion. So all went well. Lady Carew took care to tell no tales to Lord Southbourne or to her own immaculate husband, who was talking county politics with Lady Southbourne whilst the dinner took its accustomed course, now and then urged on by a side remark of Toney's to Mr. Diggings not to be too long, as the ball was to begin directly dinner was over.
"I am sure, Toney, you will be tired out," said Mr. Hales, "but even if there were no more to come you have given them something to remember."
"A real good time for them, isn't it? But they are much too grateful! It's so easy to give away money."
"But not trouble and thought."
"I'm trying to behave well, but I really can't eat much, and I feel rather sleepy! Oh, Mr. Waycott, just look across and see how beautiful Mr. Faber looks. You can't think what a good clergyman he is; those two live just like the early Christians."
"How did they live? The present time is against the simple life."
"But, you see they can do it, they are not hedged in with parks and money and Society. It's like the life at Little Gidding, when you stay with them, except they have no organ playing during their meals."
"What is the special mark of the early Christian?" asked Lewis with a smile.
"They don't seem ever to complain of being poor, and always share everything they have, it seems to me; and especially, they are so happy. Mr. Faber has a text over his fire-place, 'Rejoice always,' and they really do it. Now, Aunt Dove is never happy. You should have seen me and Uncle Evas racing here from the barn. He really raced, it wasn't make believe—and I was laughing so much when we came into the drawing-room to receive a scolding."
"Have you undertaken Miss Grossman, Toney?" asked Mr. Hales.
"Oh! no! but I do admire her; she isn't one bit afraid of Aunt Dove, and almost enjoys having words with her."
"Will you give me the first dance, Toney?" said Lewis.
"No, not the first; there are ever so many of the men who will be too shy to begin if I don't go and ask them, and they won't dare to say no! but I will have a dance with you after everyone is set going. Aunt Dove is coming to look on a few minutes, she says. Oh dear, somebody's drinking my health; I wish they wouldn't. I can't be any healthier than I am, can I?"
Lord Southbourne had risen to propose the health of the heiress, and Sir Evas seconded it with a few words of thanks.
"Shall I say thanks for you, Toney?" asked Lewis.
"Oh, no, thank you; they'll think I'm dumb," and then the girlish figure in white stood up straight and lithe.
"Thank you, everybody, very much; but I know no one would have made any fuss about me if it hadn't been for the General's money, so it's the money that ought to be returned thanks for, and I do. I know it will be very hard to give it away properly, but I mean to try; and may I ask a favour? will you all come at once to the ball in the barn, and not stop to drink wine, because the people are longing to dance, and they won't begin without us."
"My dear Antonia!" exclaimed Lady Dove, smiling deprecatingly as the company laughed, "what will our guests think? Of course, we will excuse you, and anyone who likes to follow you—— On her birthday she must be forgiven."
There was a general move, and most of the company followed Toney's white figure as she sped onward. Poor Sir Evas had risen, but dared not follow without his wife. Happily Lord and Lady Southbourne solved the difficulty.
"If Lady Dove does not mind, we should enjoy seeing the beginning of the ball," and of course, Lady Dove was "only too delighted," and now everybody followed Toney's lead.
There was no room for disappointment when the door was thrown open. The whole place had been cleared, the boards polished, one platform erected for the band and another for visitors. The wealth of flowers and wreaths made the place look more like an enchanted palace than a barn on the Dove estate. But it was not money alone that had done this, it was the loving heart of a girl of twenty-one which had planned it all.
The band struck up and the Hon. Edward Lang approached Toney.
"May I have the pleasure?"
"Of course you may; there's the bailiff's wife, she thinks no end of herself, and if you dance with her we shall hear of it for the rest of her life. Mrs. Farrant, Mr. Lang wants to dance with you, and oh, Mr. Waycott, do find someone proper for Lord Carew—unless he's too stiff. Isn't it nice of Lady Carew, she's got hold of Peter Smith herself. Real jolly of her!"
"And you, Toney, they are waiting for you?"
"Oh, anybody will do for me. There's Long Tom, he'll never get round if I don't drag him by main force. Do see that Uncle Evas doesn't forget his partner. Oh, isn't this scrumptious!"
The band began, a really good band from the garrison, and as if by magic there was—we ought to have said a poetry of motion, but to the onlooker the motion was there, though if the poetry was somewhat wanting, however, the seal of happiness was on all faces.
Lady Dove on her platform kept a few guests by her side, but very soon even these were drawn into the whirlpool, and left her alone in company with Miss Grossman, who had elected to come and look on for a short time, though as she sternly said she never danced.
"It's most extraordinary, Miss Grossman, that our guests care to dance with this mixed company."
"One never knows what people will do," said Miss Grossman in a tone of great decision, "I am never carried away."
It would indeed have been a strong, bold man who would have carried Miss Grossman away—against her wish.
"You show your common sense, because it would want strength to get a bumpkin through this quadrille. When I was young I was a famous dancer, everyone praised my figure and my deportment. Of course young ladies were carefully shielded in my youth from anything like familiar intercourse with the lower orders. Good gracious, Antonia is dancing with the cowman! I see her pinning up her dress. It serves her right; but, of course, the poor girl was brought up most strangely in Australia, so all this seems natural to her."
"Of course," said Miss Grossman, "that accounts for a good deal. Though my family was in straightened circumstances, I was brought up as a gentlewoman." This was more than Lady Dove could stand from a companion.
"It's strange how many people call themselves gentlefolks nowadays. In my youth you were in society or you were not. The Radicals have turned people's heads. We are all gentlemen and ladies now."
"I don't think so; there are very marked lines of demarcation even now. Of course, Lady Dove, you have generally had people of the class of Mrs. Faber with you, and cannot judge what is due to——"
"How ridiculous, Miss Grossman! We are talking at cross purposes. I meant County people. There is dear Lady Carew looking quite tired out, pray go and ask her to come up here."
Miss Grossman reluctantly obeyed, and presently returned followed by Lady Carew and Toney herself, for both were coming to get pinned up.
"How distressing! Your lovely dress, Lady Carew! I always said no one should come in nice clothes to dance with——"
"Aunt Dove, you don't know how they admired our dresses! I've heard lovely remarks. Lady Carew, they thought you were just like the dove in the ark!"
"How delicious! I don't mind my dress a bit, thank you; you seem to have provided plenty of pins, Miss Whitburn, you have thought of everything!"
"Everyone has danced at least once, I've seen to it, though one man declared 'twas wonderful folks did like whirly-gigging round so much!'"
"He showed his sense," said Miss Grossman.
"I must find enough breath to dance with a few more of our men, but please rest a little, Lady Carew; you have been a real helper!"
"Then I have earned a good character from you, I'm so glad!"
Lady Dove smiled sadly as Toney disappeared, then she remarked,
"It is most good-natured of you, indeed it is. There is even Lady Southbourne talking to one of the men, so very kind of her. Things have changed very much, when I was young——"
"I am sure you never met such another as your niece!" said Lady Carew.
"Never! Miss Grossman, pray go and ask Lady Southbourne to come and rest. I insisted on having easy chairs here. Antonia would not have thought of our comfort. Bush life is not a good beginning for coming out into Society. It was a great mistake for our dear General to leave her his money."
"I don't think Lady Southbourne wishes to rest," said Miss Grossman tartly, "but I will give her your message as I go out. I dislike altering my hours."
Lady Dove would have remonstrated had not Lady Carew been close by, and Miss Grossman did not give her time to forbid her retiring. Near the entrance, however, she met Toney and Lady Southbourne together.
"You are not going yet, are you, Miss Crossman? This is ice time. We must all set an example in that line, because some of our friends are looking rather doubtfully at them."
"Excuse me, Miss Whitburn, I prefer my bed to ruining my digestion. Nothing is more indigestible than an ice at night. Good night. Lady Dove begs you will go and rest, Lady Southbourne," and Miss Grossman disappeared from this world of folly.
Toney had seized on Lewis Waycott.
"Can you swallow unlimited ices? they really are the very best; Pups always said my digestion was one of the strongest he ever knew, but——"
"Toney, we have never had our dance."
"Then let's have one now. I do love dancing, that's the only accomplishment that ever made friends with me. It's poetry, isn't it?"
Lewis thought so as Toney and he waltzed round the big barn.
"I hope you have had a happy birthday," said Lewis in a pause.
"Just about perfect. Could I have been happier, as you and the Fabers, and Dr. Latham, and uncle, and Trick are all here, and you have all been so good and kind, and then Pups' picture! All through the evening I have been putting my hand up to stroke it. It was an inspiration on your part and I shall never be grateful enough."
"I—I don't want gratitude—I—want——"
"Oh, what? Do let me give it to you," said Toney eagerly.
"It's nothing money can buy," said Lewis, smiling at the eager face. "Some day, perhaps——"
"Some day, and why not now, to-night, but I'm glad it's nothing to do with money. I heard Aunt Dove say to Mrs. Hamilton, 'Of course it's a great misfortune for the poor girl, she has not an idea how to spend money.'"
"What did you think about it?"
"Oh, to myself I just said, 'you bet!' but of course I know that's vulgar! Aunt Dove says I was born vulgar—but what do you want?"
"Nothing now, Toney. Lady Dove is—well, she wants converting."
Mrs. Hamilton interrupted them.
"Oh, Lewis, Maudie is dying for a dance." Toney effaced herself, and at that minute she came face to face with Mr. Hales.
"I've never had time, Toney, to give you my present." He took a little parcel out of his pocket. "I have had these 'Little Flowers of St. Francis' bound in white for you. I could not think of anything more appropriate. I don't think you have ever read it—but I am sure you will like it."
"Of course I shall! Yours is the only book I have had. That is nicer, because it will do instead of Pups' old book of King Arthur. That one has all come true, and it will be like a message from him to help me with this new life."
"There's a message for all of us in it, Toney. The message of love and self-denial, but I think you do understand it already."
Toney shook her head.
"No, Pups did, but I want to."
CHAPTER X.
THE PATH OF PERFECTION.
Toney's coming of age had been the greatest success imaginable, both rich and poor had declared, with perfect truth, that they had never enjoyed themselves more; but some few of them also realised that the result had been attained by weeks of thought and hard work on the part of Toney and Sir Evas. All they had gone through to attain their object was their own secret, and jealously guarded; but it drew them, if possible, closer together, and the master of Aldersfield had his reward.
It was very early in the morning before the girl bade a last good-bye to her rich friends, for the poor ones had gradually melted away about eleven o'clock, the next day's toil having to be thought of. Lady Dove had long before, happily, excused herself, pleading great weariness after such a hard day's work, and the atmosphere cleared in consequence. Toney seized her uncle and made him dance till he called for mercy, and even Mrs. Faber was not let off, partners being provided for her. Mr. Faber never danced, but waited on everybody or discussed clerical questions with Mr. Hales.
Now at last all were gone, and Toney was alone in her simple room. Even Trick was fast asleep as she knelt to say her prayers and returned thanks to the Giver of all her pleasure. The excitement had taken away her sleepiness, so before putting out her light she opened the little book Mr. Hales had given her, and at the beginning read the story of how Brother Bernard, of Quintavelle, was converted by St. Francis, whilst this latter was still a secular. Bernard wished to find out whether the young and once worldly Francis was really a saint, so he asked him to sup and lodge with him, and prepared a bed in his own room for the young man. Both pretended to sleep. Bernard snoring loudly, and St. Francis hearing this, rose from his bed and began praying very earnestly till morning, saying only, "My God, my God." But Bernard was watching him all the time, and was so much touched that he determined to change his life. In the morning he said to St. Francis that he would leave the world and follow him, but St. Francis said they must first ask counsel how to find the Path of Perfection. So they went to the Bishop's house, and begged him to open the Bible three times and see what text he found. The first was, "If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast and give to the poor, and follow Me; "and the second was, "Take nothing for your journey, neither staves nor scrip, neither bread, neither money; "and the last was, "If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me."
Bernard, being very rich, went out and sold all that he had, and with great joy he gave all his possessions to the poor.
At this point Toney's eyes began to blink, so she closed the book and put it under her pillow with a smile on her lips, murmuring, "'The Path of Perfection.' Isn't that beautiful? Why can't we be like that now? I know Pups would have liked this little book, and the 'Path of Perfection,' ever so much."
Then Toney fell asleep and dreamt that St. Francis came to ask her for all her money, and that she refused it to him, saying, "You really won't know what to buy for English people, because you have only had to do with the nice, dirty Italian organ-grinders, who can live on almost nothing."
It was quite late when the house party reassembled, and Toney was the only one who showed no signs of fatigue.
She found a big pile of letters on the table. From henceforth her simple, easy life would be a thing of the past; but at present, with the unbounded confidence of youth, she faced the problem bravely.
"Is there anything further I can advise you about, Miss Whitburn?" said Mr. Staines, "for I shall be going back to London very shortly."
"Yes, please, I want some last words with you, I think we had better have a telephone between us. It will save a lot of letters. Aunt Dove, you have forgiven us, haven't you?" asked Toney. "But you are rewarded by the gratitude of the people. They just thought your house a lovely museum."
"It's a great pity to put ideas into poor people's heads," answered Lady Dove. "I hope this party will last their life-time."
"Miss Grossman was done up I suppose; it's very tiresome of her, she sent word she must stay in bed to-day. If it's influenza of course I don't want her near me."
"I do not think the poor envy luxury," said Mr. Faber thoughtfully, "they sometimes envy the certainty of our meals."
"Education creates needs," said Mr. Staines, "but I once knew a man who was perfectly happy if he had five shillings in his pocket, though he had no idea where the next would come from."
"Pups was like that," exclaimed Toney, "so it shows money isn't happiness. Aunt Dove, don't you think 'Brother Angel' would be a good name for Mr. Faber? He was one of the followers of St. Francis. He thought nothing at all about money. I read a lovely story in my new book about him when I was brushing my hair."
"How ridiculous you are, Antonia—I suppose you must go this morning, Mr. Faber, as I often tell Mr. Hales, a clergyman is nothing if he is not among his people."
Mr. Faber was still smiling over Toney's last speech and did not even notice the sous entendu of her ladyship's remark.
"I am afraid I must return, but I am sure Anne would stay and take Miss Grossman's place for a day or two, if it is the least convenience to you, Lady Dove."
This was just what Lady Dove did want, but she did not wish to show gratitude.
"Oh, I daresay you could not get your meals without her."
Mrs. Faber did not allow her deep disappointment to be seen. Henry was always sacrificing himself, she must follow his example. Only Toney noted the sad look in her eyes.
"Indeed our old Martha is far more necessary to my husband than I am. She cooks beautifully."
"She must be rather wasted at your Vicarage. However, of course, Anne Faber, if you like an extra holiday pray stay. Toney will be of no use this week, and if Miss Grossman does not get better she must go home."
"Certainly I will stay," and she smiled across to Toney, who nodded her satisfaction.
"You all covered yourselves with glory I can tell you. Bully! wasn't it?"
"Antonia!" exclaimed Aunt Dove.
"Well, so it was, but when you want to forsake the world and become one of St. Francis' brethren, uncle, I'm sure he'll take you. He told one of the rich young men who offered themselves, to 'serve the brethren,' and I know you did that yesterday, so you were in the path of perfection. Isn't that an awfully nice name?"
"I don't think that sort of life would suit me," said Sir Evas smiling. "Well, I shall go and meet your secretary this morning, Toney, whilst you talk to Mr. Staines."
Toney led the way to her new sitting-room which did not feel half so homely to her as the little sitting-room at the top of the house, but she would not let her uncle see this. Mr. Staines sat down, and Toney dropped into a chair and put her elbows on the writing table, after she had thrown down a heap of letters.
"Ouf! Look at those, Mr. Staines; to think they will come every morning."
"The new secretary will sift these for you, Miss Whitburn."
"Poor fellow! Well, what I want to say is this. Have you made it quite right about Aunt Dove's money? Will two thousand a year make a difference to her?"
"Yes, a very handsome gift."
"I can't cost her that in food, can I? though I have a good appetite."
"She does not really need it."
"But I want you to arrange about the capital and give it to her entirely."
"Is that wise? Lady Dove might die and——"
Toney had on her resolute air.
"I am quite sure I want that: Uncle Evas would have it if she died, and it will be off my mind. My General would like it, I think. Ouf! that will be some of it disposed of, won't it?"
Mr. Staines smiled. This was not the usual tone of his rich clients.
"That's all now, Mr. Staines, and I want your firm well paid for all your trouble, so that I shan't mind bothering you."
"About your will, Miss Whitburn, you must send me instructions as soon as possible, you see you have the whole control, and it is not right to leave anything uncertain."
"Of course—— You mean I might have a fit or break my head. My will is soon arranged, I'll leave the whole to Uncle Evas, and tell him what to do with it in case that happens, but it's only in case, for I have other ideas."
"Of course, and you must want time to think it over. I'll draw up this simple will and get it signed before I go."
"Uncle Evas says you are an awfully honourable lawyer. I'm so glad because Pups always said it was best to avoid the man of law. However, Pups' money was so wingy that he never needed a man to tie it up."
"He little guessed his daughter would be so amply provided for," said Mr. Staines beaming with real delight, which the handling of money always gave him, even though it was that of his clients and not his own.
"No, indeed. He was always make believing about King Arthur, and now I mean to study 'The Little Flowers of St. Francis,' and 'The Path of Perfection.' St. Francis was awfully simple about money, you know. Now we have done, haven't we? Here is my will. 'I give everything I have got to Sir Evas Dove, of Aldersfield House. Antonia Whitburn.' That won't waste the time of your clerks. You quite frightened me when you sent me the General's will The clerks must have racked their brains to find odd and useless words. Thank you a thousand times. I'll call the Fabers to sign it, but it's only in case of accidents. I've got lots more notions, and Uncle Evas doesn't want money. He's really quite nice about it, only he has to give in accounts."
"To give in accounts?"
"Yes, to Aunt Dove. She holds the purse-strings, uncle says, and there's a little breeze if he exceeds."
Mr. Staines thought he had better draw a veil over this part of the conversation, and very soon Toney's temporary will was signed and deposited in Mr. Staines' pocket, who thought as he journeyed back, "I never met such an extraordinary girl in all my life."
But it does not harm even a lawyer to think for a few minutes that money is not the aim of all mankind!
It was wonderful how soon Mrs. Faber reverted to the habits of her long bondage—though now she knew it was only an interlude—for Toney found her writing notes and doing flowers and being bullied by Lady Dove, just as if the beautiful reality of her wedded happiness did not exist. Mr. Faber had jogged off home in his pony carriage, Toney promising to bring back his dearest Anne as soon as Miss Grossman was able to return to public life. Toney watched him disappearing down the park as she stood alone on the steps of Aldersfield House, and as she looked at the lovely trees now turning every shade of gold, orange, and red, the Past and the Future appeared to her as two dream figures; the Past was a small, poorly clad beggar, and the Future a big, rich giant, but the beggar had a smile on his face and looked oh, so very happy, whilst the rich giant knitted his brows and looked down sadly on the ground.
"No, no," cried the girl, "the giant is blind and he doesn't see that he has only to give away all those gold brocaded clothes, and then he would be happy! He shan't be sorrowful, I won't let him!"
A little cold nose at that moment thrust itself into Toney's hand as it hung at her side, and a joyful bark brought her back to reality. She seized her beloved mongrel in her arms, whereupon he licked her face and showed that he understood her mood.
"Oh, Trick! Trick! we won't wear gold braid on our jackets and we won't let it make us feel sad. St. Francis said it was tremendously wrong to be sad, and so you are a real saint, Trick. You never are sad except when you have had a gnaw at new heels and have to be punished. We're getting old together, Trick; I'm twenty-one and I feel as if I were much, much older, or I should have done so if St. Francis hadn't come and given me such nice talks. He was just awfully fond of animals, Trick, so he must have been a very, very good man, but he loved his fellow-creatures best of all, so now you and I have both to seek and to find the 'Path of Perfection.'"
CHAPTER XI.
THE NEW SECRETARY.
Toney had set apart two of her new rooms for the secretary, and she looked round to see that all was comfortable before his arrival. A big knee-hole writing table was so placed that it could look over the park, and there was an easy chair and even a box of cigars for his comfort.
"He'll feel very strange at first," she thought, "and I expect he'll hate messing about this work all day as much as I should if I had to be a private secretary. Gracious stars! What a heap of writing money brings with it. There's a mountain of letters already for him. I must learn to drive the motor-car and then I'll take out tired workers, that will be nice! if only I can get time for it all. Life is beautiful, isn't it, Trick?" Trick wagged his tail and assented, then hearing the carriage wheels they both flew into the hall to receive the new secretary. Jim was driving the waggonette, and Sir Evas and the young man were inside, and Toney's quick eyes caught sight of her new tall pale secretary. Sir Evas was half smiling as he introduced her.
"Here's Mr. Plantagenet Russell, Toney—— Ehem—— Miss Whitburn. I hope you won't be overwhelmed with the work expected of you."
"There's piles already," exclaimed Toney, holding out her hand, "but you are to do them just when you like. The paper-basket will be the best place for half of them. Uncle Evas has told you all my sins I expect. Mr. Diggings, will you show Mr. Russell to his room. Lady Dove isn't visible till lunch time."
"Thanks," said Mr. Plantagenet Russell slowly; he wore an eye-glass in the right eye, and slightly raised the left eyebrow. So this was the great heiress he had come to work for, he had expected somebody very different. He was not at all pleased with life in general. He had been brought up in the lap of luxury, when suddenly, just when he was half-way through his college career, his father, a lawyer, died. Then it was discovered that he had swindled his clients, and that his wife and his only son were penniless. His mother's brother had given shelter to both, and after trying several clerkships, Mr. Plantagenet Russell had by chance heard of this post, and much to his surprise had obtained it. Plantagenet had thought this would be a far easier life than mere clerkships. The heiress was, of course, to be beautiful, and he could take life in the leisurely fashion which he deemed to be consistent with his early bringing up. The disgrace incurred by his father's defalcation weighed heavily on Plantagenet Russell, but he hoped this fact was but little known, and he himself was perfectly trustworthy as far as money was concerned. Here again life had been very unfair to him, and now he felt taken in because the heiress was so unlike his expectations, her very movements denoted a youthful energy which might prove most inconvenient, and which was not at all consistent with riches. In Plantagenet's mind to be poor when you had once been rich, was a disgrace very ill deserved.
Lunch time brought the members of Aldersfield together, and Plantagenet's spirits rose when Sir Evas introduced him to Lady Dove. Here was a lady of high degree who knew her own position. He bowed low and with great deference, and Lady Dove immediately took a liking to him. She saw that this young man recognised that she was Lady Dove, of Aldersfield House, and she had heard he had once been rich.
"I am glad you are coming to assist my niece, Mr. Russell, with the many duties wealth should entail upon her. You will, I hope, help her to carry out these duties as she has had very little experience. Of course those born to wealth know how hardly the duties of it press upon the conscientious mind." She looked sympathetically at him, and Plantagenet Russell was comforted.
"I shall endeavour to follow your wishes in all things, Lady Dove," said the secretary with another bow. Lady Dove smiled upon him. A young man who deferred to her wishes warmed her heart, "so unlike that stuck-up, conceited Lewis Waycott," she mentally said.
"I am sure your presence here will be a real satisfaction to my niece" (since her accession of fortune Toney had been usually spoken of as "my niece"), "and she will benefit greatly by having you here. Do have some of that pheasant, I daresay you will like a little shooting. Sir Evas is so glad of a companion when he goes out with his gun. Our preserves are really most satisfactory this year."
Both the lady and the young man were mightily pleased, one by being able to offer and the other to accept the slaughter of aristocratic birds. Sir Evas listened with an amused smile and Toney exclaimed,
"I wish one could decide if it is right to kill birds and fishes. St. Francis wouldn't have shot a pheasant I'm sure, though there's nothing about pheasants in my new book; but St. Anthony really preached to the fishes at Rimini because the heretics wouldn't listen to him."
"Salmon?" inquired Sir Evas.
"All sizes and kinds, and they held up their heads above the water and stood to attention, all according to their height, and then he preached an awfully jolly little sermon, and reminded them how nice it was to have fins and to be able to go where they liked."
"It's only a legend, dear," said Mrs. Faber, smiling.
"And how did they take it?" asked Sir Evas, hoping the new secretary was not listening.
"They opened their mouths and bowed their heads and St. Anthony was awfully pleased, and said the fishes were better than the heretics."
"They made less noise evidently. I hope the heretics were impressed."
"Yes, they were, and were converted by it."
Plantagenet Russell at this moment behaved like the fishes, for he opened his mouth as if to remonstrate with Toney but thought better of it. His heart sank within him. This heiress' brain was evidently deranged, and however on earth should he deal with her? Thank heaven he had Lady Dove to fall back upon. She was the real thing. Sir Evas quickly changed the conversation.
"I hear the new motor-car is coming this afternoon, and that you and Jim are both dying to take lessons in driving."
"Yes, I thought we ought. It will save time, but I can't do away with my beloved Colon. It's not half a full stop, Mr. Russell, it's short for Colonist—he'll do for the dog-cart as well as for riding; but you must learn to drive the motor, too, uncle. You mustn't be behind the times! The excitement will keep you young."
"I consider motor-cars are a vulgar ostentation of money. In old days county families did not air their poverty or their wealth," said Lady Dove.
"Wasn't that a sort of pretending anyway?" said Toney meditatively.
"'Noblesse oblige' is a motto only one class can really understand," retorted Lady Dove, looking sympathetically at Plantagenet Russell. She concluded he was of her class and would understand.
"No class was ever made that would fit you, Toney," said Sir Evas laughing.
"By the way, if you are going in a horrid machine, Antonia, I wish you would go to the Towers. Lady Southbourne has sent us a note asking us to come to tea to-day, and I am quite too tired. Her son is there."
"All right, Aunt Dove, I'll go! Mr. Russell had better wait and see if I can bring myself home safely before trying the motor. Chum, dear, I think Brother Angel wouldn't like you to go either, but we shall soon be back."
"I can't spare Anne Faber to-day," said Lady Dove decidedly. "You forget I am alone."
When Mr. Russell was established in his room, which to his disgust Toney called "his office," and left to his first pile of letters and the cigars, all went to the hall door to inspect the new motorcar, which was Toney's first big purchase for herself. It had been ordered some time ago, and was very well planned. It could make a comfortable omnibus as well as an open carriage. A professional chauffeur had come to instruct the mistress and her groom, and off they sped to the Towers, the big county house some eight miles away. But on going through the village Toney found her car turned into a Juggernaut, all the people flew out of the cottages shouting their welcome, Toney stopped the car and let them all examine the monster as it was the first they had seen at such close quarters; then some of the children had to be taken a little drive till the chauffeur objected to it as waste of time, and Toney had to move on.
"When I can drive myself you shall have fine rides," she said, "besides it's an awfully good way of teaching geography," and amid the shouts of delight the heiress drove off, feeling warm within.
"It's like champagne, isn't it, Jim?"
Jim grinned and touched his hat and said, "Yes, miss," not knowing the least what was like champagne, but of course it was like champagne if Miss Toney said so.
When they arrived at the Towers, she told Jim and the chauffeur to exercise round the park, and prepared to pay her first call alone. She did not feel shy, that was not in her nature, but she shook her head as she followed the stiff footman.
"It's all that basket of Gwyddnen Garanhir," she thought; "but I think it works too well when it works at all: still, I had less bother when I was only a poor relation. Oh dear, there's another man-servant; what is the use of being thrown from one to the other like a bale. A good day's digging with the Kanakas would do these men good."
But now Toney found herself in a big drawing-room full of pretty things, very unlike Aldersfield where solid comfort reigned supreme. Lady Southbourne was making lace for a bazaar, to save herself giving money. Her son, a very bright young fellow, who had been charming at the ball, was now sunk in the depth of an armchair chatting to his mother. Oddly enough, their talk had been of Toney, and both looked rather guilty when she entered.
"How very kind of you, Miss Whitburn, to come and have an early cup of tea with us. It's such a long way. Did you drive?"
"I came in the new motor-car, and I only drove a little way as the chauffeur says I give it the jumps, but I shall soon learn. It will be so useful for people who want things in a hurry, and it will save the horses."
"Of course. Lord Southbourne talks of getting one, but I don't know when. We must congratulate you on your party very much."
"It was the best that I ever saw," said the Hon. Edward Lang; "I am glad you have come to talk it over with us. But you will ruin the bumpkins."
"Oh, no, you see they were all our own personal friends. Even uncle, who has a bad memory, has nearly learnt up all the children."
"Good heavens!" said Edward, "you don't mean to say you expect us—to——"
"But you feel ever so much less stupid if you know the names of the piccaninnies of your own people. I think I've got a talent for genealogies. It was much harder to know the Kanakas from each other because of the colour of their faces, but possible too."
"The contrast must be depressing," said Edward, and his mother joined in:
"Lord Southbourne declares you are helping on Socialism; but then we county people are getting poorer, and such windfalls as yours don't happen every day," and Lady Southbourne laughed.
"By Jove, they don't!" echoed Edward.
Then they chatted happily about the various episodes of the party, and Toney had no time to feel out of her element, so that she had really enjoyed herself when she remembered the waiting chauffeurs.
"Oh, there's Jim and the grand gentleman from London waiting. I'm going to make my groom a chauffeur, as he will do all he is told. Those stuck-up reefed-in men are rather tyrants."
"We are all tyrannized over by our servants," said Lady Southbourne with a smile.
"Wouldn't suit me," said Toney emphatically. "Aunt Dove's head gardener is a tyrant, and there are ructions between them. They go out to battle, but he always wins!"
"So does mother's head gentleman," said Edward laughing; "but man is the superior creature."
"I think co-operation is best. St. Francis never lauded it over his brothers."
"St. Francis!" said Lady Southbourne interrogatively, not being at all learned in saints.
"Yes; St. Francis of Assisi. It was one of my birthday presents, and I've read a lot of it already, but I can't quite see clearly yet how one is to imitate him!"
"Pray don't try, Miss Whitburn; you are much nicer as you are," said the Hon. Edward as Toney went off.
"She's charming and original, mother!" he said on his return to the drawing-room.
"She has fifty thousand a year; I have it on good authority," said his mother. "I do think, Edward, you couldn't do better!"
"The point is, could she? Money just melts in my hands."
"Yes; so it's most important you should settle down and retrench."
"On fifty thousand a year? I don't mind trying, Lady Mother."
"There's a good boy—and she really is original, and originality is so in the fashion just now."
CHAPTER XII.
AN UNDIGNIFIED SITUATION.
Lewis Waycott was shooting over a lonely ten-acre field with a copse at the further end of it, when suddenly he heard a fearful noise, and then beheld a huge black snout rise up on the hedge and look over it. On the top of the snout was Toney and a man. Suddenly loud explicatives in most unparliamentary language were heard as the snout disappeared. Lewis threw his gun down and jumped over the hedge, to see the new motor trembling with indignation and Toney laughing inordinately.
"Oh, Mr. Waycott, I turned the wheel the wrong way! and we had a peep over the hedge. Mr. Hughes is very much displeased with me. The creature is not hurt, is it?"
"No, madam; but if it had been a wall instead of a hedge it would have been ruined, and your life would have been in danger."
Jim had fallen out, but was none the worse, and was grinning broadly as he said:
"Them dratted beasts is so contrary, Miss Toney; better keep to horses."
"Good gracious, Toney, are you hurt?" exclaimed Lewis.
"Not a bit! I'm awfully elastic, you know. No harm done, Mr. Hughes. Come in with us please, Mr. Waycott, and you'll see how nice it is."
Lewis fetched his gun, unloaded it, and accepted. He and Toney got inside, and left the two men on the front seat.
"We have been to the Towers, and they were ever so kind. The Honourable Edward Lang was just as charming as he could be."
Lewis felt aggrieved.
"Why didn't you come and see us instead?"
"Aunt Dove wanted to accept the invitation to tea, and yet didn't want the trouble, whilst I enjoyed it. Isn't it odd why people ask other people they don't want to see, and who don't want to come?" Lewis laughed.
"The ways of Society, Toney. You must learn all that!"
"I never shall. Oh, Mr. Waycott, my new secretary has come, Mr. Plantagenet Russell, and Aunt Dove is fascinated with him! Isn't that a piece of luck?"
"And what do you think?"
"I haven't thought yet at all. I'm only sniffing round like Trick, who glared at his heels, but I was firm. It wouldn't do the first day, would it?"
"If Trick sent him away it would be all right."
"Oh, but you are cruel! I couldn't do it all myself!"
"I'd look in and do it for you!"
"You! What would Miss Waycott say? She would look 'Oh—you—dreadful—Toney' all over!"
Lewis laughed.
"I daresay she would think I was trying to do what I know nothing about, being poor and having no superfluous money to dispense. Anyhow, will you always ask me for help if you are in need of it. It would please me very much to—to help you, Toney."
Toney looked straight up into Lewis' face, and for the first time in her life she hesitated. Then she shook her head.
"I wouldn't bother you or try your patience so much. But I may want help, and you are the only one who would understand. Gracious stars! this animal is snorting and lurching! Is anything the matter, Mr. Hughes?"
"I think there is a nut gone wrong from your having climbed that hedge, madam. I fear it will take a little time to set right."
"That comes of new locomotives," said Lewis, rather pleased. "Anyhow our legs are left to us. I'll escort you home."
Toney jumped out with great alacrity.
"One's legs are the best, aren't they? Come along and have a race."
"I prefer leisurely walks, Toney, if you don't mind. Happily there are only two miles."
"Happily, because Mr. Plantagenet Russell is chained to my letters. Oh, his name is fine, isn't it? Just the grand style, and Aunt Dove feels warm and comfortable when she hears it."
"You chose him because he was born in Australia, didn't you?"
"Yes, I thought he would be just one of our simple kind of men, but—he isn't—— A bit of a lord, still I'm glad as Aunt Dove likes him."
"Who is he?"
"He has lost his money, and seems a bit down in the mouth, so we must deal tenderly with him at first, but oh!—Mr. Waycott, I want to confess."
"To me!"
"Yes, because you won't disapprove too much. Did you look at the advertisements in to-day's papers?"
"No, I don't generally read them, and in which papers?"
Toney counted on her fingers.
"The Times, the Standard, the Morning Post, and a few more. I told a London agent to do it."
"To do what, Toney? I expect it is something surprising!" and Lewis laughed.
"Not really, but I think there will be a good many letters for Mr. Russell."
"Letters about what? But it's his duty to answer letters, that's what he has come for. Most likely you are paying him handsomely for it."
"Oh, yes. I told Uncle Evas it must be enough for him to live on and save. Pups had great ideas about a living wage. So we settled it should be £500 a year as long as he is here. He can save it, and that will help him for many a day."
"Then I don't think you need mind giving him some work."
Toney laughed happily.
"But he didn't guess what he was in for!"
"You haven't told me."
Toney thrust her hand in her pocket and drew out a crumpled paper.
"I haven't told anyone yet. I knew what uncle would say and Mr. Staines. Listen—'Any broken-down doctor, officer, or clergyman, or orphans of the above, wanting to hear of something to their advantage, may apply to Plantagenet Russell, Esq., Aldersfield House, Winchley.'"
"Good heavens, Toney! You are not——"
"Yes, I want to help doctors because of Pups, and officers because of the dear old General, and clergymen because they are often very hard up, and the orphans of the above because, I'm an orphan."
Lewis stopped a moment, and laughed inordinately.
"Why, Toney, you'll have a hornet's nest about you!"
"Do you think so? I was a little afraid of the result, so I thought I would tell you about it, and you might just talk it over with his Royal Highness."
"The King?"
"Mr. Plantagenet Russell! He looks so like a descendant of somebody, so I call him 'His Royal Highness' in my own mind."
"But what do you mean to do for this riff-raff?"
"They won't be riff-raff."
"Not a doubt about it, I assure you! It's only the ne'er-do-weels that will answer such an advertisement! The decent ones will think it a hoax."
"Why should they?"
"Well, it's rather wholesale you know, Toney."
"And look here, Mr. Waycott, I've drawn out a plan. I want you to see it."
"A plan for what?"
"Why to house my doctors, officers, and orphans."
"You don't mean to build?"
"Of course I do, only the difficulty is the land to build on. Aunt Dove will never consent to have a Home on the estate."
"I expect she won't."
"Then I shall be up a tree, because I want it close by. I shall want to see after it, and you promised you would help me, and Uncle Evas will be awfully interested."
Lewis gave a side glance at Toney. She was perfectly in earnest.
"We must manage it somehow I see. You'll give me a night to consider it in, won't you?"
"Of course! I've been thinking of it ever since I knew my General had left me his money. I've made lovely plans about all sorts of things."
"You have built castles in Spain?"
"No, only a stone house at Aldersfield. It will be hard work I know, but I love what Mr. Hales calls 'the strenuous life.'"
"You always were active-minded, but I think you will live to repent your palace."
"But you won't laugh about it, and you'll help, won't you?" Toney was very much in earnest. Lewis paused and took her hand suddenly.
"Of course I will. It is very, very good of you to trust me. It's a compact."
Toney looked at him suddenly. A faint blush spread where there was room, then the nervousness passed away.
"I do trust you ever so much. Thank you. What shall we exchange for a compact. It ought to be half a button! But about his Royal Highness, do you think he had better be warned?"
"I really think I would let him enjoy one night more without a nightmare."
Even Toney, who was terribly in earnest at this moment, could not resist laughing.
"You must come and see him. He really is very nice looking, but I am rather disappointed that he does not care to talk of Australia. You ought to stick to your country through thick and thin."
"Especially through thick masses of begging letters. You are a brave woman!"
"Come in and call on him. Do you know Aunt Dove is so happy as she can speak her mind to my dear chum, who has taken Miss Grossman's place for a few days. It does bring back my first arrival to hear her patiently reading a novel. Aunt Dove likes murders, because she can say, 'How very shocking!' but Chum has the courage to skip now and then. She is free at last!"
They had now reached Aldersfield, having taken a short cut across the park, and they instinctively made for the garden door nearest the secretary's room. Toney knocked, and there was a sound of moving before the "come in" allowed Toney to enter and find his Royal Highness seated at his writing table looking very secretarial. There was a strong smell of smoke, and the big armchair was close to the fire.
"Mr. Lewis Waycott has come to call on you," said Toney. "He's our next door neighbour; you must be tired of sorting letters."
The introduction was very correct. Plantagenet Russell was much afraid of condescension, so put on the superior and nonchalant tone.
"Will you kindly sit down," he said to his visitor. Toney had already sunk down on a low window sill. Lewis surreptitiously examined the new secretary, and inwardly smiled at the grand manner. He would soon find that he must climb down.
"Ah! fine country about here, but not a part of the world I know at all. Lady Dove has most kindly suggested some shooting, I suppose there is plenty."
"And there is some excellent golf," said Lewis cheerfully.
"Ah! I should have thought the neighbourhood was too scattered for that."
"I think you'll find it a growing neighbourhood," said Lewis, remembering Toney's advertisement and glancing at her, but she turned her head away in terror.
"Ah! I'm surprised at that. I shouldn't have expected it."
"The unexpected is frequently met with here."
"Indeed! As to society I always prefer solitude to second-rate people."
"We used to be very select, but—since——"
Toney looked reproachfully at him.
"England is changing very much in that respect; what with Socialists and Radicals, we are going to the dogs."
Whether Trick thought the remark too derogatory to be passed over, or whether he was bent on mischief, certain it is that at this moment he trotted in from the garden door, and seeing his mistress in company with a strange man, flew at his heels.
"Put your feet up, Mr. Russell, anywhere. Trick will gnaw your heels if you don't. Please forgive him, but I never can break him of the habit. Trick! Trick!"
His Royal Highness had not obeyed, so that he found himself attacked as if his heels were two rats, with sudden darts at one and then the other. It was really a most unpardonable position to put one into. Lewis could not restrain his amusement as Toney made ineffectual dashes. His Royal Highness tried to kick the offender, which, of course, only increased the evil.
"Don't kick him, please; he'll never forgive you." Lewis came to the rescue as he had done once before, and seized Trick by his shaggy coat, whilst Toney ran to open the door wider.
"How can you, Trick, I am so ashamed of you! I assure you, Mr. Russell, he has not done it for years. I only hope he won't remember your kicks. He's terribly sensitive."
Mr. Russell looked more than annoyed. The grand manner had forsaken him, and Toney plunged into a business talk to help him to recover his calmness.
"I hope you have not found the letters tiresome."
"They are from various tradesmen, but I mean to put it all down in double entry, a system of my own."
"I think you'll find single entry enough," laughed Lewis, and then to Toney's delight he suggested the secretary coming for a stroll with him, and both men disappeared, but not through the garden door.
CHAPTER XIII.
A BIG PILE.
Lady Dove came down to breakfast next morning much disturbed in spirit because Miss Grossman had sent word she was still very feverish and should remain in bed. Lady Dove had a horror of catching anything from those about her, but all the same she felt injured at her companion's message. As she came down the stairs she tried to elicit sympathy from her husband who was in the hall.
"I consider it a most improper message, Evas, and if you were not so callous to my feelings you would think the same."
"But, my dear Melina, Miss Grossman cannot help being feverish, and it's very considerate of her to keep out of your way. You have a dread of infection you know."
"I was not aware of it, Evas, but of course it is much kinder to our fellow-creatures to keep free from ailments. I have always gone on that principle. Men never realise what women put up with in silence. Are there any letters to-day?"
Sir Evas paused in front of the hall table where the letters were always laid in order in rows and heaps according to ownership. To-day his eyes strayed on to two vast piles.
"Good gracious, what's this? Plan—— Ah! Plantagenet Russell, Esq. Well!" Lady Dove stood aghast
"What does this mean? How can that young man have so many acquaintances? All for him!"
"No, not all. One letter for you, dear, some for me, and a good heap for Toney. The postman will rebel if——"
Toney came running down with Trick. She took in the situation at a glance.
"Good morning, Aunt Dove. How did you sleep, Uncle Evas?" and Toney bestowed her kisses all round. "Chum, dear, did you dream of your piccaninnies? Powder me pink! What a little cart-load of letters for Mr. Russell! I think he needn't have them for breakfast, they would swamp his food."
"I can't understand——" said Lady Dove, who had not jumped to conclusions as did Sir Evas.
"Evidently he is a gentleman well known to-day," continued Toney. Then she glanced on her own pile. "He may have mine too, except a few! I never did like letters much, people don't say what they really want to say in letters, do they?"
"I can't imagine what you mean, Antonia," answered Lady Dove, heading the procession to the dining-room and sweeping her rustling skirts with determination. "If people don't want to say what they do say, they don't write. I must say you do make the most illogical remarks of anyone I know."
Prayers followed—at which his Royal Highness did not put in an appearance, and Lady Dove said the responses louder and more impressively than usual, which was her way of letting the household know she was ruffled.
"I say, Toney, is this what we are to expect?" asked Sir Evas in a low tone to his niece, "the revenue will give you a testimonial!"
"I want to keep my name out of it," answered Toney in the same tone, "and isn't that the good of a secretary?"
"Have you offered free meals to the county?"
"Oh no! Uncle, that's bad political economy. Hush!"
"Pray, Evas, what are you remarking? I think conversations in low tones are most unseemly at breakfast. Ah! Mr. Plantagenet Russell, I hope you slept well. We are rather early as Sir Evas always thinks he has so much to do, a remark I notice which often hides idleness."
"Every duty, for me, has its appointed time!" said the secretary.
"Your letters are in the hall. I suppose you have a large circle of acquaintances, Mr. Russell?"
Toney was trying to smother her laughter as the secretary bowed low to the hostess.
"Not very large," said Mr. Russell, as if he were trying to be humble. "Rather a bore to answer them."
"I'm afraid it will take you some time, but, of course, one uses a paper-basket largely, even with letters from acquaintances," said Lady Dove politely. She was won over by the new secretary's deference.
"I hope you will tabulate them," put in Toney meditatively. "One can see at a glance then if—they are worse off or better off than the others."
"I make a list of everything," said Lady Dove. "You remember, don't you, Anne Faber, how well I kept the callers' book? One could see at a glance if people had not done their duty. I can always manage to show people politely what I think of them."
Mr. Russell murmured his approbation.
"It takes a very little time to book up letters, and I never believe those who say their letters were lost in the post."
"I don't think your letters will take very little time to-day, but, of course, I shall help you," said Toney, thinking of the terrible heaps in the hall.
Mr. Russell looked at the heiress with mild condescension.
"Thank you, I prefer doing it alone, and then there can be no mistake. I should not wish to stop your lessons in motor driving, Miss Whitburn."
"I've nearly conquered it; I've stuck up over my dressing table, 'Laborare est orare,' that means the 'motor-car.'"
"Well, Toney, I hope it won't soon be your epitaph this neat Latin," smiled her uncle.
Happily Lady Dove soon got into most interesting conversation with Mr. Russell on the subject of social duties, so that Toney was then able to escape and to beckon to her uncle and Mrs. Faber to come and help her. Sir Evas could not help laughing heartily when he contemplated the pyramid of letters.
"This beats even you, Toney! Confess what you have been doing. Your aunt thinks the poor young man has such a large circle of friends."
"Oh, Toney, what is the new scheme?" said Mrs. Faber smiling.
Toney pulled her advertisement out of her pocket.
"I was so much afraid you would see it, but really I didn't guess the people would answer so promptly."
"Good heavens! Russell will be tabulating for days!"
"I expect there will be more by next post. Quick, let's carry them into the office. I think you won't complain that the secretary will be idle. You see, uncle, I shall be kept busy going to see them and just looking round."
"Busy! It's the work of Sisyphus or what's his name."
"I'll carry them in my skirt. Shoot them in, uncle. Chum, carry the rest and open the doors for us. Don't drop any, uncle, it may be just the most deserving case."
"It's my belief you have trod on a hornet's nest. Besides, they won't have believed in that advertisement!"
"I think they have," said Toney, emptying her skirt on the secretary's table. "St. Francis hadn't a daily post and never advertised," she continued rather sadly, "but he would have tackled it somehow."
Mrs. Faber was busy putting the letters in some kind of order, and could not help smiling.
"What guidance are you going to give Mr. Russell?"
"I've thought it all out and it will be awfully interesting work, only I want to do it as much as I can myself like Brother Giles. He believed that work was as good as prayer, and that even if you were talking to an angel and your superior called you, you must leave the angel."
"They are not very common visitors, Toney. Well, good-bye, I'll leave you to tackle his Serene Highness."
"And I must write up Lady Dove's visiting book," said Mrs. Faber, so they both escaped as they heard Mr. Russell's step in the passage.
"I didn't find the letters in the hall," he said, seeing Toney. Then his glance fell on the writing table. "What—are those—letters? Impossible!"
Toney had to confess.
"They have exceeded my greatest expectations I assure you."
"Hundreds!" murmured the secretary.
"Yes, I haven't counted them. It's in answer to this advertisement," and Toney read it out. "You know I've heaps of money and I've got to give it away; but it will take a lot of time, attention, and trouble. Anyhow, I've prepared myself for it, and you see how much I want your help."
"Yes, I see." He looked hopelessly at the table. "I thought you wanted an ordinary secretary."
"Oh, no, I don't want anything ordinary. It's a glorious work and you'll find it so. We must tabulate these first, some will be quite hopeless, but lots will want immediate help till we can house them."
"House them, where?" said Mr. Russell, roused from his lethargy into positive dread.
"Oh, yes, of course, house them. I've got the plans all ready in a rough way, and when I've got the land we can go ahead. It will be just beautiful!"
"Beautiful—in what way?"
"Entering into all the lives of people who are down in their luck. I'll confess I did several times think I'd give it all in a big lump and have done with it, but that was downright cowardice. A people's palace sounds first-rate, but when you come to look into it it's very little use. You know money is nothing without labour."
"Labour is nothing without money, I should say," said Mr. Russell with a sarcastic smile; "but as your house is not built, what can you do with these people?" He opened the envelopes at random. "Yes, I see it's the usual thing. A broken-down clergyman—has a large family, struggled many years against bad luck—I dare say a drone. Here's another, a doctor who has lost his health in the discharge of his duties, and——"
"Of course, he must be inquired about. My father was a doctor and—I see now, he died of over-work for other people." Toney clasped her hands, and her eyes looked soft through a thin veil of unshed tears. "I shall never resist a doctor's claim unless you help me! I know you will like the work. You are sort of a countryman of mine, and it's an honour for us, isn't it, that we can pull together."
Mr. Plantagenet Russell looked at his despised heiress a moment to see if she was in earnest. Yes, she certainly was in deadly earnest! He had meant to have an easy time, and on the threshold he was confronted with stupendous work, and then told it was "a great honour." It was the first glimmer of something above mere "do-your-duty-and-have-done-with-it" that had ever entered his head.
"I will think it over if I may," was his cautious answer. "In any case I had better begin at once or I shall not finish booking up before nightfall. As to answering them it is impossible to-day.
"Of course you must keep office hours, I don't want to overwork you, please. Do take care I don't, for I'm awfully strong and love work. I'm going to finish my driving lessons this morning, because we shall soon want to go and hunt up these people, and I don't want to kill anyone nor dogs. Oh, there's Trick creeping in, he's not partial to you," and off she flew and shut the door just in time to prevent a recurrence of yesterday's scene. Left to himself, Plantagenet Russell slowly paced the pleasant room where he had meant to have a good time! His other offers of work would have been child's play to what was now expected of him, and then to be told that the work was "noble." Plantagenet had a dislike to penniless people, because he had known what it was to be penniless himself, and he wanted to think that all poverty was the fault of the people who were poor; that is in the class which Miss Whitburn wished to help. But even Plantagenet Russell was dimly conscious of having been suddenly roused to look out of another window. Was there really something beyond material comfort and an easy-going life? Was there something noble in poverty, something noble in getting rid of your money when you had it—for the sake of others? It was too new an idea to accept at once, indeed this morning he kicked against the pricks, but suddenly he threw away a cigar he had been fingering, and sat down to tackle his heap of letters.
As for Toney, having got through her difficult task of trying to influence her unwilling secretary, she went off to her motor-car lesson, feeling this was a first requisite for her work.
"I don't want the people to have his Royal Highness patronising them, but I expect when he sees how interesting the work is, he'll be just about nice. There's so much to do, and then the building will want a lot of thought. Brother Giles lived by the labours of his hands, but I'm thinking it's much more difficult to get rid of money properly, than to beg for money you haven't got. Ouf!"
CHAPTER XIV.
THE FIRST-FRUITS.
Toney drove up in her motor with a sudden dash very much like herself, and entered the drawing-room at Waycott Hall a few days after. She looked so radiant and happy as she stood in the doorway, that Miss Waycott, who was sitting alone, could not help smiling at the charming picture.
"How do you do, Miss Waycott? Please forgive me, but I wanted to see Mr. Waycott and tell him——"
"Shall I do instead? Lewis is out about the place somewhere. Sit down if you have time."
"Time! Oh! I just spend my time in making time now! But you will be glad to hear one thing."
"What is it? It is evidently good news by your face."
"I can drive the motor quite well now, and so can Jim! Mr. Waycott saw us going up a hedge so he won't believe it; but I've got my certificate, and Mr. Hughes, the London man, said I took to it like a duck to water. It's lovely, glorious! You have such a go-a-head-and-be-jolly sort of feeling. You will let me drive you somewhere, Miss Waycott, won't you?"
Miss Waycott's keen face was all smiles.
"May I wait till you are quite proficient? I have delicate nerves!"
"Pity! I haven't any. Jim and I can go anywhere now. Of course it's not so nice as driving horses, but it's exciting, and it's quicker if you are in a hurry, and you don't feel sorry for the animals."
Lewis had scented the motor-car and hurried in. Even a sight of Toney did him good.
"I've got my certificate," she exclaimed, shaking hands, "I knew you would be glad, and also"—she lowered her voice—"I wanted to show you the plans."
Miss Waycott rose, saying,
"I know Maud will like to see you, I'll go and fetch her. She is playing her violin somewhere."
Toney unfolded the roll in her hand.
"Here they are, look, lovely artistic buildings! South aspect, separate front doors, and a nice big garden in front and behind. Now you must help me about the land, you said you would."
"I've thought deeply about it. Do you know Deep Hollow Farm? It's been thrown on my hands, and there is a beautiful upland meadow with nice south aspect. There is a good water supply at the farm, and——"
"How just delightful! May I really buy it? Let me see, the high road cuts across by the farm."
"Yes—but—I want to give it to you, Toney."
"Give it! Of course not. How can I give what costs me nothing. Market price, and—but you know, anyhow, it is a gift, because heaps of those high and mighty landlords wouldn't let me buy anything. Uncle Evas would but he daren't! You know there would be strained relationships, so I won't even ask him."
"We will have it valued then, and being so near I can give an eye to the building. How about your letters, Toney? Mrs. Faber gave me a description of the first post—I laughed!"
"It wasn't a very laughing matter. I thought his Royal Highness would pack up and go, but he's thought better of it, at least he's still considering it. The worst was there were heaps more afterwards, and he can't keep abreast of it so he says."
"Poor Plantagenet! You will be had up for cruelty."
"I think work can't kill people, it is toodling about which is so tiring. I escape every afternoon, for the visitors are numerous, and Aunt Dove has a real good time telling them of her niece's wild doings. Miss Grossman did have influenza, and poor Chum has not been allowed to go home. Aunt Dove says that she only shows common gratitude by staying. Do you really, really mean I may have Deep Hollow Farm and the land belonging to it?"
"The land is not good, the advantage will be on my side."
At that moment Miss Waycott returned, followed by Maud and Mrs. Hamilton. Both were cordial to Toney, but the cordiality from the last lady did not ring quite true. Envy is a subtle poison and it required much Christianity not to envy the girl's splendid health and splendid fortune. Mrs. Hamilton could not imagine why some people were so lucky and why no legacies ever fell to her share—mere nobodies now had all the money. Pride is not altogether a satisfying dish when served up ungarnished.
"You have made all the county-side talk, Miss Whitburn, with your generosity to Sir Evas' tenants."
"I don't see what there is to talk about, everyone could do the same if they liked."
"Alas! everyone has not your means,"
Toney turned the conversation, she did not want to say that very hard work and not means only had made the success.
"Do you know, Miss Waycott, I've had to talk very seriously to Trick, for he hates Mr. Russell, who is dreadfully afraid of him."
Lewis burst out laughing.
"Poor man, I shall never forget your invitation to put his legs on the table!"
"It would have been much simpler if he had done so, and I daresay he does it in private; but what a pity Trick can't read St. Francis' sermon to 'Brother Wolf.'"
"Those legends are quite foolish," said Mrs. Hamilton. "I never let you and Jeanie read legends when you were young for fear of your believing in them."
"I believe them all," exclaimed Toney. "Why not? The wolf wagged his head and held out his paw to show he promised never to eat anyone again. I wish Brother Trick was as easily converted."
"My dear Toney!" said Miss Waycott, "wherever do you get these stories?"
"They are all right; Mr. Hales gave them to me, and of course he meant me to read, mark, and inwardly digest it—only it's very, very difficult!"
"He was an original saint, anyhow, and so quite suits you," said Lewis smiling.
"I mustn't stay and talk so much. I am afraid I shall never be able to copy Brother Juniper who resolved to keep silence for six months! Imagine that!"
"Pray don't imitate Brother Juniper," laughed Miss Waycott.
"Mrs. Hamilton, won't you trust yourself in the new motor? I've got my certificate in my pocket."
"Yes, come along, Aunt Delia; I want to come, too, and go round by Deep Hollow. Miss Whitburn thinks she will like to buy it, and I must get as much as I can out of her," said Lewis gravely.
"My dear Lewis, you always cheat yourself," sighed Mrs. Hamilton, who was hopelessly literal.
"I know riches have no attraction for you! Yes, I will come. Is there room for Maud?"
"Of course, I bought a very roomy car; you see it's got to be very useful, but some of my friends won't mind being squashed."
Mrs. Hamilton was not going to let Lewis drive about alone with the heiress.
In a few minutes they were going rather briskly through the park where the trees were turning into gold, then out upon the lonely high road till Deep Hollow was reached.
"Will you wait a few minutes, Aunt Delia, as I must extol my wares," and Lewis led Toney towards his unlet farm.
"You might make the farm, too, very useful for a caretaker or your chief constable!" said Lewis.
"I must go and live there myself!"
"What an idea! Look, on that high ground you could build your palace of peace, and there would be good views and good air."
"Do you really, really mean it? It is perfect, I want it all to be very simple, but comfortable and homely. Mrs. Hamilton won't like waiting, but we must come again. I'll write to Mr. Staines and tell him to send somebody to clench our matter. No money could pay you for your generosity, so there's to be no bargaining."
Toney flew back and Lewis followed more leisurely, anxious to help her, but wishing he could kick down the golden barrier.
"Maud was wondering if you were lost!" said Mrs. Hamilton.
"It seems so wonderful that I can really buy some land," said Toney springing into the car. "Mr. Waycott is going to sell me Deep Hollow Farm."
"We were bargaining about the price," said Lewis, stepping in. "Don't you think we ought to make hay whilst the sun shines, Aunt Delia?"
"Business is very disagreeable for young ladies," was Aunt Delia's answer, "it rubs off the bloom of youth."
Toney spun her wheel round and was off. She did not appreciate Aunt Delia very much, and she felt she disliked her, but meant not to show her feelings, first, because she was Lewis Waycott's aunt, and secondly because she knew humility was to be cultivated, if she was to be like St. Francis, or even like Brother Juniper, who played see-saw with the children so that people might despise him and he might be humbled.
About a mile from the village Toney saw an old woman carrying a heavy basket, and exclaimed,
"It's old Nancy Poulter. She's been carrying the washing home." She pulled up the motor with wonderful precision as the old woman curtseyed and smiled at Miss Tonia.