Читать книгу Frederica and her Guardians; Or, The Perils of Orphanhood - Margaret M. Robertson - Страница 6

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The orders were given, and all preparations made, and in a little time the pony carriage stood at the door. It was a carriage which Mr St. Hubert had had made for his daughter’s use, after she became an invalid. It was open and quite low, and large enough to hold two persons, besides the fortunate ones who should occupy the luxurious chief seats. But the boys were restless, and sometimes noisy, and Tessie was to stay at home with them, so that their mother and Selina might sit in state and comfort. Frederica, on the high front seat, acted as driver, and enjoyed it well. Dixen was there beside her, so that her mother need not have the least cause for being frightened or nervous, and so lose the pleasure of the drive.

Dixen had once been a soldier, and Mr Vane’s servant while he was in the army, and had lived with him since his marriage in various capacities. Lately he had been called the coachman; but to take Mrs Vane and Selina out to their unfrequent drives, was only a small part of what was expected from him. He waited on Mr Vane, he worked under the gardener, and held himself ready to do whatever else might be found for him to do. The other servants had got into the fashion of calling him old and good for little; but none of them all worked so faithfully for their wages as he.

He did not feel affronted that the reins were taken out of his hands on this occasion; for the young lady had been taught to drive by him, and he was proud of her skill and success in the art.

They left the city streets, and passing the toll-gate, soon found themselves with the river on one side and the dull grey fields and leafless trees on the other, with nothing to hinder the putting of the ponies to their speed. It was a summer day for brightness and mildness, but Mrs Vane drew her fur cloak close around her, as the breeze from the river reached her; for she had made herself a prisoner in the house for a long time, and the keen air made her shiver. Selina smiled with pleasure as she felt the wind on her face, and drew in long breaths of the sweet refreshing air.

“Is not this nice, mama?” asked she, laying herself back among the cushions with a sigh of satisfaction.

“Very nice and pleasant,” said her mother, touching her hand gently. This stood to the blind girl for a smile.

“And you are glad you came, mama?”

“Very glad, love. You have quite a colour already.”

“And so have you, mama,” said Frederica, glancing round. “When were you out last?”

“Not for a long time—not since we went in a sleigh,” said Selina, answering for her. “We thought the roads could not be quite good yet. And mama is afraid of the cold.”

“Not since sleighing!” exclaimed Frederica: “you don’t know your privileges. Dixen, I am surprised at you.”

“It has no’ been my fault, Miss Frederica, I can assure you,” said Dixen gravely.

“I have not felt inclined to go out,” said Mrs Vane; “and, indeed, there is little pleasure in going when one has to be so muffled from the cold.”

“But, mama, you thought you could not come to-day. You thought it would be too much for you, and now you enjoy it. It is just what you need, and Selina too. You want me to be at home to take care of you both.”

“And indeed, Miss, that’s a true word of yours,” said Dixen in a whisper.

Frederica looked up quickly.

“Mama, I am going to ask Dixen. He is a man of sense. Dixen, don’t you think it is quite time that I should be considered a grown-up young lady? I am fifteen, and mama needs me at home. I am very little, I know,” added she, deprecatingly, as the old man let a queer glance rest on her. He answered with great gravity, however.

“Good gear is ay in small bundles; and one does not need to be a giantess to be a comfort to one’s mother.”

“Just so,” Said Frederica, nodding well pleased. “I am fifteen, and one ought to have some sense at fifteen. Mama, are you keeping your promise? You know you are only to think of pleasant things. You are sure you are glad you came?”

“Very glad, dear.”

“And not all for Lina’s sake?”

“No,” said her mother, laughing; “a little for your sake.”

“Oh, I hope it will be fine every day while we are at home. We shall drive every day. Do you like it, Lina?”

“Yes,” said Selina softly. Selina’s “yes” said more than other people’s protestations.

It was very pleasant to them all. It was not in appearance only that Mrs Vane had put away all unhappy thoughts; she had really put them away. It was not that she had much hope that her cousin could put everything right, as Frederica had said, or that she had much faith in her little daughter’s “good sense.” But she had great faith in her loving heart and happy temper, and it was a wonderful break in the dull life led by her and Selina to have the merry little creature with them, and she yielded entirely to the charm of her lively loving ways, and for the time was well and happy. They only reached home in time for their two o’clock dinner, which they enjoyed all the more for their drive, and then Mrs Vane and Selina were left to rest, while Frederica went out with Tessie and the children.

“It will not be too much for Jack and Jill, I hope,” said Frederica, as she stood stroking the ponies before they set off.

“Not if you drive gently,” said Dixen. “And I think, Miss Frederica, the mistress would be more at her ease if I were to go with you. Not that there’s any need of it, but she’s nervous-like, you know.”

“And can you be spared? You seem to be in such demand.”

“We’ll no’ ask,” said Dixen. “If you’re wanting me, that is all that need be said. Duty doesn’t call two ways at once, they say; and if it’s for pleasure, why should not I have a holiday as well as the rest? And madame’s no’ here to hinder or to try it even.”

Frederica laughed.

“And besides, Miss,” continued Dixen, “it is more seemly for a young lady like you to have your servant with you. It may do for children and common folk to go here and there by themselves, but a young lady like you—”

Frederica opened her eyes. This was a new light to see the matter in; she was by no means sure that it was a pleasant one. But if it pleased Dixen to be responsible for her dignity and propriety, she would not object, at least on this occasion.

So away they went through the streets first, and then round the mountain, to the great enjoyment of them all. Not one of them enjoyed it less, and Dixen I am assured enjoyed it all the more, that they met Mrs Ascot not far from the house, and knew by the look she gave them that she would have liked to turn them back.

“Her smile was out of the wrong side of her mouth,” muttered Dixen. He knew that she had ordered the carriage for herself at four, and they could not go for her pleasure that afternoon.

“I only hope she will not disturb mama till we come home,” said Frederica.

The drive was charming, but even Frederica confessed to being a little tired when they reached home. It was five and after. Madame Ascot met them at the door. It puts the best-tempered people out to be kept waiting, and her face was not an agreeable one to see at the moment.

“Did you not understand that I said four?” asked she sharply.

“Miss Frederica,” began Dixen, touching his hat to the young lady.

“Did I not say four?” repeated Mrs Ascot.

“But, madame, it would have been quite impossible. We did not leave home till nearly three,” said Tessie.

“Don’t let it happen again,” said Mrs Ascot; taking no notice of the child.

Frederica was patting her favourites, calling them, all sorts of pet names. She turned as Mrs Ascot attempted to pass her.

“It is a pity, madame. You should have sent, for a carriage. It is quite impossible that the ponies should be taken out again to-night, you know,” she added as Mrs Ascot seemed to be preparing to enter the carriage. It is likely madame would have proved it quite possible, had not Mr Vane entered the garden at the moment Tessie ran down the steps to meet him.

“Oh, papa, we are to have a whole week of holidays. Are you not glad?”

“Papa, I am so sorry we did not drive round by the office and take you up. I thought you must have been home. Yes, they are rather warm, and tired too, but they will be none the worse, will they, Dixen? And I am to drive mama every fine day and you must come too, papa. I shall be charmed to drive you.”

Mr Vane laughed.

“My neck is too valuable,” said he:

“Not more valuable than mama’s; and we can take Dixen if you are afraid. Now you must be kind to them, Dixen, and rub them well down,” added she, as the old man prepared to lead them away.

“Never fear, Miss Frederica,” said Dixen.

“But I thought Mrs Ascot was going out;” said Mr Vane.

“It is too late now,” said that lady angrily.

“Quite too late, and the ponies are tired. It is quite impossible,” said Tessie, with irritating dignity.

“All right,” said Mr Vane, indifferently.

“Papa, we are going to have a party in the drawing-room to-night. We are all going, and mama and Selina and you must come too, just after dinner. Will you come, papa?” pleaded both girls, hanging on his arms.

“Certainly, with great pleasure,” said their father, pleased to be thus entreated; “but you must let me go now.”

“It is not summer to madame to-night,” whispered Tessie, laughing.

“We will invite her to our party, and that will comfort her,” said her sister, and then she went upstairs to give private instructions to the boys’ maid, that they were not to be put to bed at their usual early hour.

Mrs Ascot did not honour them with her presence, but the party was very successful notwithstanding. Mr and Mrs Vane were becoming quite indifferent to each other by this time; that is to say, no part of the happiness of either was of the other’s giving. Mrs Vane was long past resenting the open indifference that had hurt her so much at first, and her husband never brought so much brightness with him in his brief visits, as to cause her to regret his absence very bitterly. She had quite resigned herself to the knowledge that it could not be otherwise now.

Still they had one interest in common. They cared for their children, each in a different way, and took a little pleasure in each other’s society when their children were with them. Mr Vane was not a fond father, but his children were pretty and bright, and he had the selfish man’s satisfaction in the possession of what other people admired. They were fond of him, and not in the least afraid of him. He never reproved or punished them, and was rarely impatient with them, for they were never long enough in his presence to weary him, or to interfere in any way with his comfort. So when the girls welcomed him to the drawing-room, he was quite prepared to enjoy an hour or two with them.

They all enjoyed it. They had much to say for awhile, and then they danced and sang, that is, the little boys danced with Tessie, and then they all sang, and doubtless a much larger and more discriminating audience would have been delighted with this part of the entertainment; for they all had sweet voices, especially Selina, and her sisters had been well taught; and two hours passed away very quickly, Mr Vane thought.

After the little boys went to bed, the conversation somehow turned again on the subject of Frederica’s young-ladyhood, and she once more suggested the question whether she had not learned “enough of things,” and whether it was not time that she were leaving school.

“For indeed, papa, I have gone through all the books the girls ever go through at Mrs Glencairn’s, and she has given me quite new books lately, French history, and a book about animals; but I could read these just as well at home.”

“How very clever you must be!” said her father.

“No, papa, not particularly clever? at least, cleverness has nothing to do with it. But you know their French takes the other girls for ever to learn, and French is nothing to us who speak it at home. So I have just the dictation now, and learning poetry and easy things like that. Indeed, I think it is just wasting money for me to go longer to school,” added she, instinctively feeling that that argument her father might be brought to consider.

“I am afraid it would lead to wasting much more if you were to leave school,” said her father, laughing. “To be sure you are such a child you could not be taken into society for a while yet, school or no school.”

“Oh! as to that, I am in no haste about going into society; I only wish to be at home to take care of mama and Selina. Would it not be nice, mama?”

“It would not be nice for me to be left at school alone,” said Tessie; “and as for you, I am afraid you would not have everything your own way. Madame Ascot would spoil your pleasure a little.”

“Oh! we could dispense with Mrs Ascot, if I were at home,” said Frederica with dignity. “I could take charge of the house, and make less fuss about it than she does. Papa, won’t you take it into your serious consideration? I have had enough of school.”

“You have had enough of Mrs Glencairn I daresay. I think I must take into serious consideration whether it will not be better to send you to England for a year or two. I think it is the best thing I can do for you.”

That was the last word spoken on the subject Mrs Vane was too startled by her husband’s words to reply to them, and she touched Selina’s lips to stay the exclamation that rose to them. Frederica and Theresa exchanged looks of dismay, but admonished by a look from their mother, neither of them spoke, and in a little time their father bade them good-night and went out.

“He did not mean anything, mama,” said Frederica.

“He had not thought of it a minute before he said it, and he will forget it in a day. He often does forget things,” said Tessie.

“We must not say anything to make him remember it,” said their mother; “and for the present we may hear no more about it.”

“And I must stay at school,” said Frederica, pouting a little. “Mama, you don’t know how nice it would be for you and Lina, if I were always at home.”

“I can imagine it, dear. But we will not speak of it, lest I should have to lose you altogether for years to come.”