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CHAPTER II.
“In the world there is no duty more important than that of being charming.”—Victor Hugo.

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On rising next morning my first thought was that I must dress myself with more care than was usually the case with me before breakfast. Not that I was not always neat and tidy, as far as my personal toilet went. But the old dresses which had hitherto been deemed good enough for me to wear in the mornings would have to be discarded henceforth, and I felt quite proud of the suddenly accentuated importance of my personal appearance, as I rummaged my wardrobe in search of something that would be fit to wear in the presence of Lady Elizabeth Courtney.

But I was not very successful in my search, and was obliged to content myself with a somewhat shabby green striped stuff, that had been bought for Belle, but was made up for me, because she took a dislike to it on seeing it at home. I remembered the remark Lady Elizabeth had made about my hair, and tried, with very indifferent success, to remove the objectionable sleekiness which was its distinguishing feature.

When quite ready to go downstairs I surveyed myself in the glass, but cannot say that I was delighted with the reflection which confronted me for a moment. It was only seven o’clock, and I went to the stable ere going elsewhere, to see after the wants of Bobby and of my dear old Teddy. Teddy was a shaggy pony, whose looks were anything but handsome, but in whose society I had hitherto spent my happiest hours. That I should be the proud possessor of a pony often struck me with surprise; but it was an established fact, nevertheless. My uncle Graham, protesting that no one would buy such an ugly animal, had given him to me, and as Belle would not have been seen on the back of such an inelegant steed, there was no attempt to subvert him to other uses than the donor intended.

Sometimes Jerry and I wandered for miles with him, taking turns at having a ride on his broad back over the wide expanse of moorland in which our county rejoices. Bobby, too, always went with us, and, next to Teddy, perhaps, was the dearest animal alive. I had bought him, for sixpence, from some boys who had been paid a shilling to drown him because he had the mange. He wasn’t handsome then, but he improved in looks when he recovered from his illness, and he was so loving, so merry, so clever, and such a jolly companion altogether, that it would have been a terrible grief to me to part with him. Then both Bobby and Teddy were such splendid confidants. To them I poured out all my sorrows, and I always felt better after we had talked things over. They would both look at me so earnestly and lovingly with their beautiful eyes, while I told them whatever I had to tell. And then, to prove that they understood me, Teddy would rub me with his head, and Bobby would first lick my fingers, and then give a short, sharp bark, and look defiantly round him, as if to challenge my enemies.

Both animals were nearly as fond of Jerry as they were of me. But he was only nine years old, and did not understand them quite as well as I did. Whenever we were bent upon a long excursion on the moors we would take a basket of provisions with us. Then, when we got to a suitable spot, we would prepare to enjoy our picnic. Teddy and Bobby would lie down for awhile, or would amuse themselves in their own way, the one by nibbling at such eatables as he might find, and the other by excursionizing in search of rats. But they knew what a certain whistle meant, and returned promptly to our side as soon as they heard it. Then, having unpacked our basket, we would distribute the luncheon. There was always a goodly bone for Bobby, and some apples and a few carrots for Teddy; and though we were no doubt a curious quartet, we were a very happy one, for I had no regrets when in the unrestrained company of my three chums. After lunch, we sometimes had a game at hide and seek among the stones and hillocks, Teddy in particular being very difficult to deceive. It was such fun to see his dear old nose come poking round a corner, and to witness him neigh and prance in his joy at having unearthed us, while Bobby complimented him on his skill by barking his admiration.

It seemed a pity that such beautiful days should have an end, and we were all sorry when it was time to go home again. As for me, I used to feel my spirits leave me as we neared home, for I was always sure to be in some scrape or other on my return. It was very easy for me to get into trouble at any time, but the head and front of my offending in connection with our picnics was my inability to distinguish between scraps and bones to which Bobby was welcome, since no one else could eat them, and the remains of a joint which Martha had intended to convert into rissoles. Teddy’s apples, too, had a knack of being of the choicest flavor, whereas the green windstrewn ones were supposed to be good enough for a pony.

As I now went to the stable, I could not help wondering how Lady Elizabeth would regard my pets. But I felt more assured about the matter than I would have done if I had thought about it yesterday. For if my stepmother could actually take a fancy to me, she was not likely to take exception to the ugliness of Teddy and Bobby.

“Hallo, Dorrie!” I suddenly heard a voice exclaim, and looking toward the kitchen-garden, whence the sound proceeded, I saw Jerry, hand-in-hand with Lady Elizabeth, to whom he was doing the honors of the place thus early.

“We’ve been getting some strawberries for breakfast,” smilingly said my stepmother, “or, rather, we were going to get some, but either Gerald or I ate all we gathered.”

“Well, it wasn’t me,” said Jerry. “I gathered them, and you ate them. But I can soon pull some more, after you have looked at my white rats and my rabbits.”

“And my pony,” I put in; adding, with no shade of reserve or shyness about me, “Do you always get up so early, Lady Elizabeth?”

“Not always, especially if I am in town. But I am fond of rising early in the country. Besides, I wanted to explore the Grange thoroughly to-day. I have been here before, but it is so long since that I have quite forgotten what it is like.”

“Do you know,” put in Jerry, “that I fancied yesterday you did not like the place?”

“And Dora thought I must be a heathen not to do so.”

“Oh, I beg your pardon,” I exclaimed hurriedly. “It was very presumptuous of me. But I have lived here all my life, and to me no place can be nicer than Courtney Grange.”

“That remains to be proved,” said my stepmother, with a smile. “I have an idea that the sanitary arrangements of this place are bad. Should this really prove the case, we shall vacate the Grange in favor of a pretty place of my own.”

“Leave the Grange!” I cried aghast. “Why, that would be awful! I should look uglier than ever anywhere else.”

“On the contrary, it is just possible, Dora, that this place is to blame for your unsatisfactory complexion. Perhaps your bedroom is a specially unhealthy one. Your father has promised to employ some sanitary engineers at once, to examine the place. Meanwhile I have left my maid at Sunny Knowe, and we are all going next week to pay a visit to that place. Your father is quite willing that you should all three accompany us, and I am sure you will enjoy your visit.”

“But I have no pretty clothes to be seen elsewhere in.”

“We will soon alter that. I am very glad that Ernestine did not come with me. I can manage very well for a week without her, and it is just as well that neither she nor any other servant of mine should criticise you at present. You will show to much better advantage in new clothes, and may as well create as good an impression as possible, even upon the servants, who can be very neglectful of people who do not strike them as important. I intend you to be considered as important as your sister, who is very lovely, but who must not monopolize all the attention due to you.”

“Indeed, I do not want attention or assistance. I am quite used to looking after both myself and others, and cannot expect the same politeness as Belle. See, these are my pets, and I love them dearly, for they both love me.”

Bobby always slept with Teddy, and it was no unusual thing to see the two friends come to meet me, as they did on this particular morning, Teddy brushing my arm by way of salute and uttering a delighted neigh, while Bobby barked his “good-morning” quite plainly.

“They have brought you to see some lovely animals,” said a voice at this juncture. It was my father, who had joined us, preparatory to going in to breakfast, and who gazed at me with manifest displeasure.

“I’m afraid, my dear,” he continued, “that you will be somewhat disgusted at being taken the round of stableyards and back premises. But I should have warned you as to what you might expect from Dora. Her tastes are inveterately low.”

“Then I am afraid I am low, too,” laughed Lady Elizabeth, “for I have actually been enjoying myself. I was always sorry that I had no children of my own, and a few fresh young spirits about me will complete my happiness in marrying you. Come along, children. We mustn’t keep your father waiting for his breakfast.”

My father was not severe or ill-natured, except when irritated by the sight of the child who was a veritable eyesore to him, and he would have had to be a churl indeed to resist his wife’s sunny ways. He was smiling pleasantly at her, and had turned to walk toward the house, having offered her his arm, when I hastily whispered to her: “Pray excuse Jerry and me for a moment, while we gather those strawberries.” And then I ran off, followed by Jerry, and knowing full well that my desire to procure Lady Elizabeth a plentiful supply of the fruit of which she seemed fond would provoke my father’s displeasure again, simply because it would strike him as another undesirable exhibition of my notoriously independent manners.

But I no longer felt any particular desire to please him, and only cared to be of service to the dear lady who would permit no prejudices to influence her treatment of me. As far as she was concerned, I meant to follow Victor Hugo’s advice, and be as charming and helpful as I could. If I could not make my appearance charming, I would charm her by a solicitous and persistent attention to her pleasures and comforts.

It did not take the two of us long to gather a good supply of “Queens” and “Presidents,” and we reached the morning-room before the others had sat down to breakfast. Belle was there, attired in a pretty pale blue print, and was admirably foiled by my altogether unprepossessing appearance. As I saw Lady Elizabeth’s glance wander from Belle to myself, I knew that she was wondering what I could possibly wear to make me look pretty; and though I could never really hope to embody such a pleasant adjective as “pretty,” I was happy in the knowledge that Belle’s unpleasant theories were upset, and that I might possibly show a marked improvement in my appearance ere long.

The rest of the day was chiefly taken up with explorations and consultations, and a good many new arrangements were made. Jerry, I was sorry to hear, was to be sent off to a French boarding school at the beginning of the next term. But when I heard that he was to spend all his holidays at home, just as if he were in an English school, I felt reconciled to the temporary absences of the bright, clever child who liked his ugly sister best. Jerry himself was quite overjoyed at the programme cut out for him, and promised to write us each and all a French letter from the first week of his residence in France.

Belle, who was now twenty, was enraptured by the promise of next season in town, while I was so delighted to hear that I was to have efficient instruction on my favorite instrument, the violin, that I burst into tears, and ran hastily up to my own room, where I might vent my emotion unrestrainedly. You see, my tastes had met with so little sympathy heretofore that I required some time to get used to unwonted indulgences. I was not sure that my happiness would not yet take unto itself wings and fly away, or that I was not dreaming; for I had never heard of the arrival of a stepmother being so conducive to the welfare of the junior branches of the family as promised to be the case with us.

My father, I noticed during the next few days, was so supremely contented and so happy in the society of his wife, that I contrasted the coldly conventional manner in which he had always comported himself in my poor mother’s presence, and was able to see that the feeling he had borne for her was but poor stuff compared to the love he felt for Lady Elizabeth. I remember also having heard that these two were lovers in their youth, and it amazed me to think that they could have deliberately thrown aside the heart’s most sacred feelings in order to make a worldly marriage.

I have since then become thoroughly conversant with the fact that Mammon is infinitely the more powerful god of the two, when it comes to a tussle with Cupid, and that even very estimable people lose their judgment when called upon to choose between them. And yet, how can they honestly utter their marriage vows, when the heart is given away from the one they are marrying? Truly, life has many mysteries, which it were unprofitable work to attempt to solve!

In a day or two quite an assortment of new clothes came for me, and it was astonishing to see how different I looked in the reds and yellows which I now wore. I was still the ugly girl of the family, but it was quite possible for strangers to overlook the unpleasant fact for a while, and I even caught myself hoping that I looked rather nice than otherwise, especially when callers began to pay their respects to the newly-married couple.

Both Belle and I were introduced to nearly all our visitors, among the first of them being the Earl of Greatlands. I was rather disposed to like him, until he put his eyeglass up, quizzed me attentively, and remarked: “You are unfortunately very like your mother, Miss Dora, though I believe she had much finer hair and eyes than you have. But everybody improves in the hands of my daughter, and I have no doubt you will be as handsome as your sister by the time you are her age.”

“I am only just twenty,” said Belle stiffly.

“So I suppose, my dear,” rejoined the earl. “But you will find in a year or two that even the slight margin of age there is between the two of you will land you considerably on the weather-side, in other people’s opinion.”

Belle flashed an angry glance from her beautiful eyes, being careful, however, not to let the earl see it, for did she not desire an invitation to Greatlands Castle? As for me, I felt nothing less than enraged, although I could not quite decide whether the old gentleman was deliberately rude, or only gifted with an unfortunate knack of making mal-à-propos speeches. But he did not notice that he had hurt the feelings of either of us, having turned his attention to Jerry, who, faultlessly dressed in a new black velvet suit, was being introduced to his stepmother’s father.

“Ah! a very pretty boy,” he said. “But a perfect imp of mischief, I know. Boys who look like him always are. How many times have you gone out ratting?”

“Not so often as I would like, sir. Dorrie can’t always get away.”

“And does Dorrie go rat-hunting?”

“Of course she does. She has a splendid dog. Teddy is hers, too, and he’s just a brick.”

“Teddy’s a brick? But of what use is a brick on hunting expeditions?”

“Oh, you know what I mean. Teddy is the jolliest little pony in the world.”

“You seem fond of Teddy?”

“Rather.”

“And of Bobby?”

“I wonder who wouldn’t be!”

“And of Dorrie?”

“Why, of course!”

“And of Belle?”

“Belle? Well, yes, I dare say I am, when she doesn’t sneak on Dorrie.”

“Gerald, I think you are forgetting yourself,” interrupted my father angrily. “That girl has made you worse than herself. It is just as well that you are going to be parted. For the present, you have been long enough in the drawing-room.”

“Very well, sir,” said Jerry, and turned to leave the room at once. Lady Elizabeth, I could see, was more amused than vexed; Belle looked at both Jerry and me with angry disdain, and the earl just laughed as if Jerry had uttered a very good joke.

“Wait a bit, Jerry,” he said. “If the others will excuse me for a few minutes, I would like you to show me this wonderful dog and pony. And as they are Dorrie’s property she will perhaps be good enough to come with us.”

As nobody entered any objection to the earl’s proposals, I accompanied him from the room, and five minutes later he and Jerry and I were interviewing Teddy and Bobby, who had been having a gambol at the foot of the orchard. The orchard was not a place they were supposed to frisk about in. But somebody had carelessly left the wicket open, and it was not their fault, poor things, that a choice young “ribstone pippin” had been snapped in two during their frolics.

The earl was certainly a funny man. He was as different from what I had always supposed an earl to be as was possible. In fact, he was more like a jolly old farmer than anything else. But what a gossip he seemed to be! And how inquisitive he was! He laughed immoderately at sight of my pets, but immediately soothed my wounded feelings by stroking and patting them, and I could see that they both took a fancy to him at once. It wasn’t everybody that Teddy would sidle up to in the dear, winning way he had, or to whom Bobby would wag his approval. But perhaps they were both in a better humor than usual; for Bobby had uncovered one of the mushroom beds, and had helped himself to a few of the fungi, of which he was inordinately fond, while naughty Teddy, as several broken branches testified, had been feasting on unripe “Dutch mignonnes” and “Duke of Oldenburghs.”

“Nice animals,” said the earl. “Just the sort I would have expected your property to be, eh, Dorrie?”

“My name is Dora.”

“But Jerry calls you Dorrie.”

“He is privileged. He likes me.”

“And how do you know that I don’t like you?”

“You? I don’t see how you can. Very few people do.”

“Perhaps I am one of the few. At any rate, I mean to call you Dorrie. It sounds nicer between friends than ‘Miss Dora,’ doesn’t it?”

“Now you are making fun of me. And you would make even more fun of me, if I were to believe that the Earl of Greatlands wanted to be friendly with an ugly, uninteresting girl like me.”

“Isn’t Lady Elizabeth friendly with you?”

“Oh, she is an angel!”

“Well, please to remember that I am that angel’s father, and of the same species. Don’t you see my wings?”

At this we all three laughed, and we enjoyed each other’s society very well for about half an hour, during which time we had shown our visitor all sorts of things that I had never dreamed would interest an earl.

Suddenly he exclaimed: “And now I must go back to the house, or I shall be getting into hot water with the old people, eh? But look here, Jerry, what has Belle got to sneak about?”

“Now, Jerry, don’t you turn sneak,” I warned.

“You don’t need to be afraid. But Belle is horrid, after that. She’s always saying that Dorrie’s ugly. And I’m sure she isn’t really ugly, is she?”

The latter question was addressed to the earl. But I did not wait to hear his answer, for I was thoroughly angry with Jerry, for once, and returned to the house unceremoniously, leaving them to go back when they liked. Of course I was not behaving politely. But I am afraid that very polished manners were really a little out of my line at that time, and, after all, it was too bad of Jerry to turn the conversation on to my unfortunate ugliness, just when we were having such a nice time of it. Instead of going back to the drawing-room, I went straight to the kitchen, where I was busily occupied for the next two hours in helping Martha to shell “marrowfats,” to prepare salad, to make a pudding and some cheesecakes, and in other ways to do my best toward making dinner a success. Belle never condescended to enter the kitchen at any time, nor would my father have liked her to risk spoiling the perfect loveliness of her hands. But Martha and John had never suffered from lack of work, and some help was absolutely needed by them. True, a strong girl from the village of Moorbye had been engaged now to do the rougher part of the housework, but even then there was plenty of room for my assistance.

That evening the Earl of Greatlands dined with us, as did also Lord Egreville, his son, who had ridden over to pay his respects to his sister and her husband. He was a widower, and resided with his father at Greatlands Castle, his two sons being at Oxford. I did not like him at all, and he took no pains to conceal the fact that he considered me to be very small fry indeed. But he was quite fascinated by Belle’s beauty, and flirted desperately with her. She seemed perfectly willing to receive his attentions, and certain amused glances which I saw exchanged between Lady Elizabeth, the earl, and my father, set my thoughts working in an odd direction.

What a queer thing it would be, I mused, if this Lord Egreville and Belle were to fall in love with each other, and make a match of it! How it would complicate relationships. Why, let me see, Belle would become her father’s sister-in-law, and would be a sort of aunt to Jerry and myself, while the old earl could call himself either her father-in-law, or her grand-father-in-law, if he liked. The situation presented so many funny aspects, that I felt it necessary to relinquish my dessert-spoon while I abandoned myself to a fit of laughter that obstinately refused to be repressed.

As there was apparently nothing to laugh at, my manners were again called into question, chiefly by the innocent and unconscious cause of my amusement.

A few days after this, the sanitary engineers were at work on Courtney Grange, and we were all domiciled pro tem at Sunny Knowe, a lovely place in its way, but not nearly equal to what Courtney Grange would be when thoroughly restored. Oddly enough, a distant relation, from whom my father had never expected anything, died at this juncture, and bequeathed him several thousand pounds. His income had never been large enough to keep the place up as it ought to have been kept, and the Grange had therefore fallen considerably out of repair. Now that he was married to a lady with an ample income he could spare his newly acquired fortune for repairing purposes, and resolved to spend nearly the whole of it on that object.

Under the circumstances, we were not likely to return to the Grange much before Christmas. But we did not trouble about that, as the Knowe was a very pleasant place to live at. I had, very much to my sorrow, left Teddy under John Page’s care, for Lady Elizabeth desired me to ride a more presentable steed while at the Knowe. I was provided with a well-made habit, and had the use of a handsome horse. But the decorous rides I now took, in company with Belle, and with a groom following closely, were not to be compared with the delightful excursions Teddy and I had had together, though Belle enjoyed them, and the altered state of things was evidently regarded by her as a great improvement.

As it had been necessary to leave Teddy behind, I could not be cruel enough to bring Bobby away and leave him without a friend to talk to. John had promised to look well after them both, but I knew that they would miss me sadly, and longed for the time when I could comfort them again with my presence. Lady Elizabeth was very good to me, but at times I was not sure that I did not regret the old spells of unconventional freedom.

So true is it that we are prone to lose sight of the privileges and blessings of the present in the vain longing after a vanished past, in which we could find little to be joyful at, when it was with us. In my case, I was ready to let the memory of our halcyon days on the moors outweigh that of all the days of neglect and misery during which I had craved for the mother’s love which had once blessed me.

The Earl of Greatlands and his son spent a good deal of time at the Knowe, and we, in our turn, saw much of the castle, which had been thoroughly rehabilitated since Lady Elizabeth’s first husband had been good enough to furnish the money wherewith to do it. It was a fine old place, and it was pleasant to see what pride its owner took in all connected with it. Lord Egreville was very attentive to Belle, but it was difficult to decide how far the element of seriousness entered into the behavior of either of them. There was a prudent reticence on the part of Lord Egreville at times that annoyed Belle very much, because it argued that he was not quite so infatuated with her as she would have liked him to be.

And yet, I do not believe she cared for him one atom, although she gave him more than sufficient encouragement to proceed with his attentions—up to a certain point. Once, when in a very gracious mood, she became quite confidential with me.

“It would be a very good match, even for me, who have always meant to do well for myself,” she said. “The estate is quite unencumbered, and in first-class order. Lord Egreville is not very good-looking. But I would tolerate his looks if I cannot do better for myself. Though certainly it would be a great thing to become an English countess.”

“But Lord Egreville will not be an earl until his father dies.”

“His father, as you seem to forget, is close upon seventy, and cannot live forever.”

“How horrid it seems to count upon dead men’s shoes like that!”

“Don’t excite yourself, my dear. If Lord Egreville were to propose to me to-morrow, I would not give him a decided answer. I must see what my coming season in town brings forth. I might captivate a much richer nobleman, or even a millionaire pill or soap manufacturer. At any rate, I am not going to throw myself away in too great a hurry.”

“ ‘A bird in the hand—’ You know the rest.”

“Yes, I know the rest. But my motto is: ‘Look before you leap.’ ”

“Well, I hope you won’t leap into a big bog-hole, that’s all.”

“Well, no. I will leave that suicidal performance for those who can never hope to leap any higher. How do you like this brooch? Lord Egreville sent it this morning.”

“If I were you, I would tell him to keep his dead wife’s jewelry a little longer. He might require it for some one else, if you pick up a duke or a millionaire.”

Having had my parting shot, I judged it wise to leave Belle to her own devices, and went off to my little room, where I practiced industriously on my fiddle for an hour and a half. There were plenty of servants here, and I had no excuse for offering to help with the cooking, though I would have liked nothing better. Indeed, I had often thought that if I had not belonged to a family in which it was necessary to keep up appearances, I would have become a professional cook. But I had still a little congenial employment to turn to. Jerry was going off to school this week, and I had undertaken to mark all his things myself, besides making him sundry little knick-knacks that would prove useful to him.

I found it very hard to part with Jerry, when the time came for him to go, and was rather hurt to find that he cared less about leaving us behind, than he did about the delights of travel and school-life to which he was looking forward.

“I did think you would be sorry to leave me,” I murmured, reproachfully, just as he was being resigned to the charge of the tutor who was going to accompany him to the school, and afterward take part in teaching the boys.

“Well, what’s a fellow to do?” Jerry rejoined. “You wouldn’t have me to cry and look like a muff, would you? It isn’t the same as if I was a girl. It wouldn’t matter then if I cried my eyes red.”

“No more it would, Jerry. Good-by, dear. And you’ll be sure to write often to me?”

“Quite sure. Good-by, Dorrie. Good-by, pa. And, oh! Dorrie, I’ve forgotten my bag of marbles, and my new top. Will you send them to me?”

There was barely time to answer in the affirmative, and then the child was off. Then my father, having seen me comfortably seated in the waggonette in which we had driven to the station, flicked his whip, and off we started on our return drive, little dreaming of the terrible events which were to come to pass ere the dear boy from whom we had just parted came back to the home he left so blithely.

The Adventures of an Ugly Girl

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