Читать книгу Selma at the Abbey - Elsie Jeanette Dunkerley - Страница 4

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ALL ABOUT SELMA

“What colossal cheek!” Joy cried.

Angus grew scarlet. “I know. I feel like that myself. But it would be the making of Selma.”

“It’s not really cheek,” Joan said. “Joy, it’s the most tremendous compliment, if you’ll only look at it that way.”

Joy gave a groan, half amused, half indignant.

Angus turned to Joan, his face ablaze with eagerness. “Oh, Miss Joan! It’s no’ easy to ask you. It’s harder for me than for anyone else in the world, after—well, you know! But I do want to help Selma, and it would just change all her life. You were so good to Rykie; I thought perhaps——” He came to a sudden stop.

“That we could take your Selma in her place,” Joan finished for him. “It’s Joy’s house; you’ll have to ask her. But first, tell us about Selma, Angus.”

“Her folks lived at a wee place down the water from Glasgow,” Angus said breathlessly. “Inverkip, it’s called; they had a bit of a farm. But her mother died and there’s only a stepfather left, and Selma doesn’t like him. Small blame to her! He’s no’ a nice chap. So she’s got a job in Glasgow, where she went to school—her mother would have it that she must go to a city school. Selma’s working in a shop, but she doesna—doesn’t like it. I’ve seen her a lot lately, and—and I want her for my girl, Miss Joan.”

“But you think she needs more education?”

“Aye! Yes, Miss Joan. She hasn’t met people; she doesn’t know the right things to say. When I’m playing with an orchestra in yon great hall in London, and she comes to hear me and she’s my wife—well, she’ll need to talk, won’t she?”

“Not while you’re playing,” Joy grinned.

“She certainly will,” Joan agreed. “She’ll have to meet people; she mustn’t disgrace you by seeming a country cousin.”

“Aye, that’s it!” Angus cried. “It’s no’ so much book-learning; she’s been to school. But it’s meeting people and seeing how they think and what they do——”

“Social education,” Joy remarked. “Are we qualified to do that for Selma, Joan?”

“If she could get to know people like you!” Angus began fervently. “And—and if little Miss Jen would be a friend for her! She’s a good, bonny lass, is Miss Jen.”

“She is,” Joan assented. “That just describes her. You think Jen could help your Selma? Oh, she doesn’t live here!”—as his eyes swept round the garden, apparently in search of Jen. “She’s at school; the autumn term has just begun. We borrowed her for the summer, so that she could help us with Rykie. I don’t know that we could do it again.”

“I thought she’d be the one to be friends with Selma,” Angus said wistfully. “Miss Joan, I’ve got some money; I can pay. I’m no’ asking you to take Selma for nothing.”

The girls looked at him curiously. “There’s no need for that,” Joy said abruptly. “If we want your Selma we can afford to take her.”

“How do you happen to have money to spare, Angus?” Joan’s voice was gentle. “You hadn’t any, when we knew you before.”

Angus went scarlet; the question was a fair one, he knew. He looked at Joy, expecting a sharp comment. “And look at the way you tried to get it!” or something of the kind. But Joy restrained herself and waited for his answer.

“Terry gave me a cheque, Miss Joan, before he went back to Hollywood.”

“Terry! It’s useful to have a wealthy half-brother-in-law!” Joy exclaimed.

“He wanted me to go with them and be one of the family, for Belle’s sake, but he knew I wanted to stay in Glasgow and have lessons from McAlistair, so he gave me a cheque instead. I want to use it for Selma. She matters more to me than new clothes, or concerts, or better rooms to stay in.”

“That’s really very nice of you, Angus!” Joan’s tone showed how she was warming towards him. “If Selma comes here I don’t think Joy would want you to pay, but if——”

“Rather not!” Joy exploded. “We don’t keep a boarding-house! We’ll invite her, if she comes at all.”

“Yes,” Joan agreed. “But it’s nice of Angus to offer it. Don’t be ungracious, Joy! But if Selma goes to school with Jen, you could pay her fees, Angus. Mother and Joy paid for Rykie, but there would be no reason for them to do it for Selma. And I feel she should go to school. She’d see far more of Jen, and it would be much more interesting for her than staying at home with us. If she’s only sixteen, a little more school won’t hurt her.”

“Will you let her come, Miss Joan?” Angus asked humbly.

“We’ll have to talk it over with Mother,” Joan explained. “We’ll consult her presently. She’s much stronger than she used to be, but I still persuade her to rest in the afternoon. Tell us more about Selma, Angus!”

“Tell us about her odd name,” Joy demanded. “Where did she find it? Is it her real name, or is there more of it? It sounds like a short version of something else.”

“She’s Janet Selma Andersson, Miss Joy. Her father was a sea-captain, sailing between Stockholm and Glasgow, with timber. I think Selma is a Swedish name.”

“It sounds like it. But you said she came from a farm,” Joy objected.

“Her mother’s people had the wee farm near Inverkip, down the water from Glasgow, and her mother stayed with them when the captain went to sea. Almost opposite Inverkip, across the Clyde, there’s a white castle on the hill, and its old name was Dunselma; when he heard that, Captain Andersson laughed and said it meant the hill or fort of Selma, and who could Selma have been, in Scotland, as it was a girl’s name in his country? They called their baby Janet for her mother, and Selma for her father’s country. The captain went away and never came back; his ship was lost off the Orkneys. Mrs. Andersson married again after a time, a chap called Macgregor; and then she died, and the stepfather was horrible to Selma. As soon as she could, she took a job in Glasgow; school friends of hers helped her to find it. It’s no’ much of a job yet, for she’s only a kid; but she’s keen to learn and she’ll get on. But, Miss Joan, it’s no’ good enough for her; just a shop-girl! She needs more than that, if—if some day——” And he paused.

“If she’s going to marry a world-famous violinist,” Joy finished for him.

“We see that, and we’d like to help,” Joan agreed. “But there’s plenty of time. You’ve still a long way to go yourself.”

“Aye, but I’ve started, because you folks were so kind and helped me to go to McAlistair. I want Selma to start too. I’ve no’ a scrap of right to ask you to help her as well as me, but I don’t know anybody else, and you were good to Rykie.”

“Rykie and Selma! You do go in for odd names!” Joy said. “We must talk to Aunty before we promise anything. Why do you have Swedish names in Scotland? Who called your castle Dunselma?”

“I wouldna ken that—I mean, I wouldn’t know, Miss Joy.”

“Vikings,” Joan said, without hesitation. “They sailed all over those Northern seas; they were sure to visit Angus’s shores of Clyde. I expect there are plenty of old Scandinavian names, a bit altered during the centuries.”

“Is your Selma a Viking in looks, Angus?”

“What would that be, Miss Joy?”

“Tall and fair and blue-eyed. Is she like her father?”

“No, Miss Joy. Her hair’s dark, like her mother’s.”

“That will be a change in your family; you and Rykie are so very fair.”

“Belle is dark,” Joan reminded her.

“Selma’s lovely, Miss Joan,” Angus broke out. “Her hair’s like—like a soft dark cloud, and her eyes are like brown pools in a peat-burn, and her voice is like the wee burn itself, as it ripples along.” He stopped and reddened, at the twinkle in Joy’s eyes.

“Dear, dear!” Joy mocked. “I didn’t know you were a poet, as well as a fiddler, Angus Reekie.”

“That’s how I feel about Selma,” Angus said doggedly.

“Then we must take care of her for you,” Joan decided. “If she’s really pretty she mustn’t be left to knock about in a city, with nobody to protect her. I’m glad you spoke out and told us how you feel about her, Angus; it’s how you ought to feel, if she’s to be your girl some day. Come along indoors and we’ll talk to Mother.”