Читать книгу Sisters Three - Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey - Страница 6

The old grandfather’s clock was just striking six o’clock when Raymond and Bob, the two public schoolboys, came home from their afternoon excursion. They walked slowly up the drive, supporting between them the figure of a young fellow a few years older than themselves, who hopped painfully on one foot, and was no sooner seated on the oak bench in the hall, than he rested his head against the rails, and went off into a dead faint. The boys shouted at the pitch of their voices, whereupon Mr. Bertrand rushed out of his sanctum, followed by every other member of his household.

“Good gracious! Who is it? What is the matter? Where did he come from? Has he had an accident?” cried the girls in chorus, while Miss Briggs ran off for sal volatile and other remedies.

The stranger was a tall, lanky youth, about eighteen years of age, with curly brown hair and well-cut features, and he made a pathetic figure leaning back in the big oak seat.

“He’s the son of old Freer, the Squire of Brantmere,” explained Raymond, as he busied himself unloosing the lad’s collar and tie. “We have met him several times when we have been walking. Decent fellow—Harrow—reading at home for college, and hates it like poison. We were coming a short cut over the mountains, when he slipped on a bit of ice, and twisted his ankle trying to keep up. We had an awful time getting him back. He meant to stay at the inn to-night, as his people are away, and it was too dark to go on, but he looks precious bad. Couldn’t we put him up here?”

“Yes, yes, of course. Better carry him straight to bed and get off that boot,” said Mr. Bertrand cordially. “It will be a painful job, and if we can get it done before he comes round, so much the better. Here, you boys, we’ll carry him upstairs between us, and be careful not to trip as you go. Someone bring up hot water, and bandages from the medicine chest. I will doctor him myself. I have had a fair experience of sprained ankles in my day, and don’t need anyone to show me what to do.”

The procession wended its way up the staircase, and for the greater part of the evening father and brothers were alike invisible. Fomentations and douches were carried on with gusto by Mr. Bertrand, who was never more happy than when he was playing the part of amateur surgeon; then Miss Briggs had her innings, and carried a tray upstairs laden with all the dainties the house could supply, after partaking of which the invalid was so far recovered that he was glad of his friends’ company, and kept them laughing and chatting in his room until it was time to go to bed.

The next morning the ankle was much better, but, at his host’s instigation, the young fellow despatched a note to his mother, telling her not to expect him home for a few days, as Mr. Bertrand wished him to stay until he was better able to bear the long, hilly drive.

The girls discussed the situation as they settled down to finish the much disliked mending in the afternoon. “It’s very annoying,” Hilary said. “I do hope he won’t be long in getting better. We were going to London on Monday week, but if he is still here we shall have to wait, and I hate having things postponed.”

“I wish he had been a girl,” said Norah, who came in for so much teasing from her two brothers during the holidays that she did not welcome the idea of having another boy in the house. “We could have had such fun together, and perhaps she might have asked us to stay with her some day. I should love to pay visits! I wonder if father will take us up to London in turns, now that he has begun. I do hope he will, for it would be great fun staying in Kensington. I remember Miss Carr when we were in London; she was a funny old thing, but I liked her awfully. She was often cross, but after she had scolded for about five minutes, she used to repent, and give us apples. She will give you apples, Hilary, if you are very good!”

Hilary screwed up her little nose with an expression of disdain. Apples were not much of a treat to people who had an orchard at home, and she had outgrown the age of childish joy at the gift of such trifles. Before she could speak, however, the door burst open, and Raymond precipitated himself into the room. He was a big, broad fellow of sixteen, for he and Lettice were twins, though widely differing in appearance. Raymond had a flat face, thickly speckled over with freckles, reddish brown hair, and a pair of brown eyes which fairly danced with mischief. It was safe to prophesy that in less than two minutes from the time that he entered the room where his sisters were sitting, they would all three be shrieking aloud in consternation, and the present instance was no exception to the rule. It was very simply managed. He passed one hand over the table where lay the socks and stockings which had been paired by Hilary’s industrious fingers, and swept them, helter-skelter, on the floor. He nudged Norah’s elbow, so that the needle which she was threading went deep into her fingers, and chucked Lettice under the chin, so that she bit her tongue with a violence which was really painful. This done, he plunged both hands into his pockets and danced a hornpipe on the hearthrug, while the girls abused him at the pitch of their voices.

“Raymond Bertrand, you are the most horrid, ungentlemanly, nasty, rude boy I ever knew!”

“If you were older you’d be ashamed of yourself. It is only because you are a stupid, ignorant little schoolboy that you think it funny to be unkind to girls.”

“Very well, then! You have given me all my work to do over again; now I won’t make toffee this afternoon, as I promised!”

“I don’t want your old toffee. I can buy toffee in the village if I want it,” retorted Raymond cheerfully. “Besides, I’m going out to toboggan with Bob, and I shan’t be home until dark. You girls will have to go and amuse Freer. He is up, and wants something to do. I’m not going to stay indoors on a jolly afternoon to talk to the fellow, so you’ll have to do it instead.”

“Indeed, we’ll do nothing of the kind; we have our work to do, and it is bad enough to have two tiresome boys on our hands without looking after a third. He is your friend, and if you won’t amuse him, he will have to stay by himself.”

“All right! Nice, hospitable people you are! Leave him alone to be as dull as he likes—it’s no matter to me. I told him that you would look after him, so the responsibility is off my shoulders.” Raymond paused, pointed in a meaning manner towards a curtained doorway at the end of the room, tiptoed up to the table, and finished his reply in a tragic whisper. “And I’ve settled him on the couch in the drawing-room, so you had better not speak so loudly, because he can hear every word you say!”

With this parting shot, Mr. Raymond took his departure, banging the door after him, while his sisters sat paralysed, staring at each other with distended eyes.

“How awful! What must he think? We can’t leave him alone after this. Hilary, you are the eldest, go and talk to him.”

“I won’t—I don’t know what to say. Norah, you go! Perhaps he is musical. You can play to him on your violin!”

“Thank you, very much. I’ll do nothing of the kind. Lettice, you go; you are not shy. Talk to him prettily, and show him the photographs.”

“I daren’t; I am horribly shy. I wouldn’t go into that room now, after what he has heard, for fifty thousand pounds!”

“Norah, look here, if you will go and sit with him until four o’clock, Lettice and I will finish your work between us, and we will all come and have tea in the drawing-room, and help you out for the rest of the afternoon!”

“Yes, Norah, we will; and I’ll give you that pink ribbon for your hair. Do, Norah! there’s a good girl. You won’t mind a bit after the first moment.”

“It’s all very well,” grumbled Norah; but she was plainly softening, and after a moment’s hesitation, she pushed back her chair and said slowly, “All right, I’ll go; but mind you are punctual with tea, for I don’t bargain to stay a moment after four o’clock.” She brushed the ends of cotton from her dress, walked across to the door, and disappeared through the doorway with a pantomimic gesture of distaste. At the other side she paused and stood facing the invalid in silent embarrassment, for his cheeks were flushed, and he looked so supremely uncomfortable that it was evident he had overheard the loud-toned conversation which had been carried on between the brother and sisters. Norah looked at him and saw a young fellow who looked much older and more formidable than he had done in his unconsciousness the night before, for his grey eyes had curious, dilating pupils, and a faint mark on the upper lip showed where the moustache of the future was to be. The stranger looked at Norah, and saw a tall, slim girl, with masses of dark hair falling down her back, heavily marked eyebrows, and a bright, sharply cut little face, which was very attractive, if it could not strictly be called pretty.

“How do you do?” said Norah desperately. “I hope you are quite—I mean, I hope your foot is better. I am glad you are able to get up.”

“Thank you very much. It’s all right so long as I lie still. It’s very good of you to let me stay here. I hope I’m not a great nuisance.”

“Oh, not at all. I’m sure you are not. I’m not the eldest, you know, I’m only the third, so I have nothing to do with the housekeeping, but there are so many of us that one more doesn’t make any difference. My name is Norah.”

“And mine is Reginald, but I am always called Rex. Please don’t trouble about me if you have anything else to do. If you would give me a book, I’d amuse myself.”

“Are you fond of reading?”

“No, I hate it—that is to say, I like it very much, of course, but I have had so much of it for the last two years that I sometimes feel that I hate the sight of a book. But it’s different here, for a few hours.”

“I think I’ll stay and talk to you, if you don’t mind,” said Norah, seating herself on an oak stool by the fire, and holding out a thin, brown hand to shade her face from the blaze. “I’m very fond of talking when I get to know people a little bit. Raymond told us that you were reading at home to prepare for college, and that you didn’t like it. I suppose that is why you are tired of books. I wish I were in your place! I’d give anything to go to a town, and get on with my studies, but I have to stay at home and learn from a governess. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could change places? Then we should both be pleased, and get what we liked.”

The young fellow gave a laugh of amusement. “I don’t think I should care for the governess,” he said, “though she seems awfully kind and jolly, if she is the lady who looked after me last night. I’ve had enough lessons to last me for the rest of my life, and I want to get to work, but my father is bent on having a clever son, and can’t make up his mind to be disappointed.”

“And aren’t you clever? I don’t think you look exactly stupid!” said Norah, so innocently, that Rex burst into a hearty laugh.

“Oh, I hope I’m not so bad as that. I am what is called ‘intelligent,’ don’t you know, but I shall never make a scholar, and it is waste of time and money to send me to college. It is not in me. I am not fond of staying in the house and poring over books and papers. I couldn’t be a doctor and spend my life in sick-rooms; the law would drive me crazy, and I could as soon jump over a mountain as write two new sermons a week. I want to go abroad—to India or Ceylon, or one of those places—and get into a berth where I can be all day walking about in the open air, and looking after the natives.”

“Oh, I see. You don’t like to work yourself, but you feel that it is ‘in you’ to make other people exert themselves! You would like to have a lot of poor coolies under you, and order them about from morning till night—that’s what you mean. I think you must be very lazy to talk like that!” said Norah, nodding her head in such a meaning fashion that the young fellow flushed in embarrassment.

“Indeed, I’m nothing of the kind. I am very energetic—in my own way. There are all sorts of gifts, and everyone knows which one has fallen to his share. It’s stupid to pretend that you don’t, I know I am not intellectual, but I also know that I have a natural gift of management. At school I had the arrangement of all the games and sports, and the fellows would obey me when no one else could do anything with them. I should like to have a crowd of workmen under me—and I’ll tell you this! they would do more work, and do it better, and be more contented over it, than any other workmen in the district!”

“Gracious!” cried Norah, “you are conceited! But I believe you are right. It’s something in your eyes—I noticed it as soon as I saw you—a sort of commanding look, and a flash every now and then when you aren’t quite pleased. They flashed like anything just now, when I said you were lazy! The poor coolies would be frightened out of their senses. But you needn’t go abroad unless you like. You could stay at home and keep a school.”

“No, thank you. I know too much about it. I don’t want the life worried out of me by a lot of boys. I could manage them quite well though, if I chose.”

“You couldn’t manage me!” Norah brought her black brows together in defiant fashion, but the challenge was not taken up, for Master Rex simply ejaculated, “Oh, girls! I wasn’t talking about girls,” and laid his head against the cushions in such an indifferent fashion that Norah felt snubbed; and the next question came in a very subdued little voice—“Don’t you—er—like girls?”

“Ye–es—pretty well—the ones I know. I like my sister, of course, but we have only seen each other in the holidays for the last six years. She is sixteen now, and has to leave school because her chest is delicate, and she has come home to be coddled. She don’t like it a bit—leaving school, I mean—so it seems that none of us are contented. She’s clever, in music especially; plays both violin and piano uncommonly well for a girl of her age.”

“Oh, does she? That’s my gift. I play the violin beautifully,” cried Norah modestly, and when Rex laughed aloud she grew angry, and protested in snappish manner, “Well, you said yourself that we could not help knowing our own talents. It’s quite true, I do play well. Everyone says so. If you don’t believe it, I’ll get my violin and let you hear.”

“I wish you would! Please forgive me for laughing, I didn’t mean to be rude, but it sounded so curious that I forgot what I was doing. Do play! I should love to hear you.”

Norah walked across the room and lifted the beloved violin from its case. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was tingling with the remembrance of that incredulous laugh, but her anger only made her the more resolved to prove the truth of her words. She stood before Rex in the firelight, her slim figure drawn up to its full height, and the first sweep of the bow brought forth a sound so sweet and full, that he started in amazement. The two sisters in the adjoining room stopped their work to listen, and whispered to one another that they had never heard Norah play so well; and when at last she dropped her arms, and stood waiting for Rex to give his verdict, he could only gasp in astonishment.

“I say, it’s wonderful! You can play, and no mistake! What is the piece? I never heard it before. It’s beautiful. I like it awfully.”

“Oh, nothing. It isn’t a piece. I made it up as I went along. It is too dark to see the music, and I love wandering along just as I like. I’ll play you some pieces later on when the lamps are lit.”

“I say, you know, you are most awfully clever! If you play like that now, you could do as well as any of those professional fellows if you had a chance. And to be able to compose as well! You are a genius—it isn’t talent—it’s real, true, genuine genius!”

“Oh, do you think so? Do you really, truly think so?” cried Norah pitifully. “Oh, I wish you would say so to father! He won’t let us go away to school, and I do so long and pine to have more lessons. I learnt in London ever since I was a tiny little girl, and from a very good master, but the last three years I have had to struggle on by myself. Father is not musical himself, and so he doesn’t notice my playing, but if you would tell him what you think—”

“I’ll tell him with pleasure; but if he won’t allow you to leave home, I don’t see what is to be done—unless—look here! I’ve got an idea. My sister may want to take lessons, and if there were two pupils it might be worth while getting a man down from Preston or Lancaster. Ella couldn’t come here, because she can only go out on fine days, but you could come to us, you know. It would make it so much more difficult if the fellow had to drive six miles over the mountains, and we are nearer a station than you are here. I should think it could be managed easily enough. I’ll write to the mater about it if you like.”

“Will you, really? How lovely of you! Oh, it would be quite too delightful if it could be managed. I’d bless you for ever. Oh, isn’t it a good thing you sprained your ankle?” cried Norah in a glow of enthusiasm, and the burst of laughter which followed startled the occupants of the next room by its ring of good fellowship.

“Really,” said Hilary, “the strange boy must be nicer than we thought. Norah and he seem to be getting quite good friends. Let us hurry up, and go and join them.”