“Go up-stairs and ask Jasper to dress you,” she said. “The carriage will be round in a few minutes.”
Evelyn wanted to expostulate. She looked full at Audrey. Surely Audrey would protect her from the terrible infliction2 of a long drive alone with Lady Frances! Audrey did catch Evelyn’s beseeching3 glance; she took a step forward.
“Do you particularly want Evelyn this afternoon, mother?” she asked.
“Yes, dear; if I did not want her I should not ask her to come with me.”
Lady Frances’s words were very impressive; Audrey stood silent.
“Please tell her—please tell her!” interrupted Evelyn in a voice tremulous with passion.
“We are going to have charades4 to-night, mother, and Evelyn’s part is somewhat important; we are all to rehearse in the schoolroom at three o’clock.”
“And my part is very important,” interrupted Evelyn again. 127
“I am sorry,” said Lady Frances, “but Evelyn must come with me. Is there no one else to take the part, Audrey?”
“Yes, mother; Sophie could do it. She has a very small part, and she is a good actress, and Evelyn could easily do Sophie’s part; but, all the same, it will disappoint Eve.”
“I am sorry for that,” said Lady Frances; “but I cannot alter my plans. Give Sophie the part that Evelyn would have taken; Evelyn can take her part.—You will have plenty of time, Evelyn, when you return to coach for the small part.”
“Yes, you will, Evelyn; but I am sorry, all the same,” said Audrey, and she turned away.
Evelyn’s lips trembled. She stood motionless; then she slowly revolved6 round, intending to fire some very angry words into Lady Frances’s face; but, lo and behold7! there was no Lady Frances there. She had gone up-stairs while Evelyn was lost in thought.
Very quietly the little girl went up to her own room. Jasper, her eyes almost swollen8 out of her head with crying, was there to wait on her.
“I have been packing up, Miss Evelyn,” she said. “I am to go this afternoon. Her ladyship has made all arrangements, and a cab is to come from the ‘Green Man’ in the village to fetch me and my luggage at half-past three. It is almost past belief, Miss Eve, that you and me should be parted like this.”
“You look horrid9, Jasper, when you cry so 128 hard!” said Evelyn. “Oh, of course I am awfully10 sorry; I do not know how I shall live without you.”
“You will miss me a good bit,” said the woman. “I am surprised, though, that you should take it as you do. If you raised your voice and started the whole place in an uproar12 you would be bound to have your own way. But as it is, you are mum as you please; never a word out of you either of sorrow or anything else, but off you go larking13 with those children and forgetting the one who has made you, mended you, and done everything on earth for you since long before your mother died.”
“Don’t remind me of mothery now,” said the girl, and her lips trembled; then she added in a changed voice: “I cannot help it, Jasper. I have been fighting ever since I came here, and I want to fight—oh, most badly, most desperately14!—but somehow the courage has gone out of me. I am ever so sorry for you, Jasper, but I cannot help myself; I really cannot.”
Jasper was silent. After a time she said slowly:
“And your mother wrote a letter on her deathbed asking Lady Frances to let me stay with you whatever happened.”
“I know,” said Evelyn. “It is awful of her; it really is.”
“And do you think,” continued the woman, “I am going to submit?”
“Why, you must, Jasper. You cannot stay if they do not wish for you. And you have got all your wages, have you not?” 129
“I have, my dear; I have. Yes,” continued the woman; “she thinks, of course, that I am satisfied, and that I am going as mum as a mouse and as quiet as the grave, but she is fine and mistook; I ain’t doing nothing of the sort. Go I must, but not far. I have a plan in my head. It may come to nothing; but if it does come to something, as I hope to goodness it will, then you will hear of me again, my pet, and I won’t be far off to protect you if the time should come that you need me. And now, what do you want of me, my little lamb, for your face is piteous to see?”
“I am a miserable15 girl,” said Evelyn. “I could cry for hours, but there is no time. Dress me, then, for the last time, Jasper. Oh, Jasper darling, I am fond of you!”
Evelyn’s stoical, hard sort of nature seemed to give way at this juncture16; she flung her arms round her maid’s neck and kissed her many times passionately17. The woman kissed her, too, in a hungry sort of way.
“You are really not going far away, Jasper?” said Evelyn when, dressed in her coat and hat, she was ready to start.
“My plans are laid but not made yet,” said the woman. “You will hear from me likely to-morrow, my love. And now, good-by. I have packed all your things in the trunks they came in, and the wardrobe is empty. Oh, my pet, my pet, good-by! Who will look after you to-night, and who will sleep in the little white bed alongside of you? Oh, my 130 darling, the spirit of your Jasper is broke, that it is!”
“Evelyn!” called her aunt, who was passing her room at that moment, “the carriage is at the door. Come at once.”
Evelyn ran down-stairs. She wore a showy, unsuitable hat and a showy, unsuitable jacket. She got quickly into the carriage, and flopped18 down by the side of the stately Lady Frances.
Lady Frances was a very judicious19 woman in her way. She reprimanded whenever in her opinion it was necessary to reprimand, but she never nagged20. It needed but a glance to show her that Evelyn required to be educated in every form of good-breeding, and that education the good woman fully11 intended to take in hand without a moment’s delay, but she did not intend to find fault moment by moment. She said nothing, therefore, either in praise or blame to the small, awkward, conceited21 little girl by her side; but she gave orders to stop at Simpson’s in the High Street, and the carriage started briskly forward. Wynford Castle was within half a mile of the village which was called after it, and five miles away from a large and very important cathedral town—the cathedral town of Easterly. During the drive Lady Frances chatted in the sort of tone she would use to a small girl, and Evelyn gave short and sulky replies. Finding that her conversation was not interesting to her small guest, the good lady became silent and wrapped up in her own thoughts. Presently they arrived at Simpson’s, and 131 there the lady and the child got out and entered the shop. Evelyn was absolutely bewildered by the amount of things which her aunt ordered for her. It is true that she had had, as Jasper expressed it, quite a small trousseau when in Paris; but during her mother’s lifetime her dresses had come to her slowly and with long intervals22 between. Mrs. Wynford had been a showy but by no means a good dresser; she loved the gayest, most bizarre colors, and she delighted in adorning23 her child with bits of feathers, scraps24 of shabby lace, beads25, and such-like decorations. After her mother’s death, when Evelyn, considered herself rich, she and Jasper purchased the same sort of things, only using better materials. Thus the thin silk was exchanged for thick silk, cotton-back satin for the real article, velveteen for velvet26, cheap lace for real lace, and the gaily27 colored beads for gold chains and strings28 of pearls. Nothing in Evelyn’s opinion and nothing in Jasper’s opinion could be more exquisitely29 beautiful than the toilet which Evelyn brought to Castle Wynford; but Lady Frances evidently thought otherwise. She ordered a dark-blue serge, with a jacket to match, to be put in hand immediately for the little girl; she bought a dark-gray dress, ready made, which was to be sent home that same evening. She got a neat black hat to wear with the dress, and a thick black pilot-cloth jacket to cover the small person of the heiress. As to her evening-dresses, she chose them of fine, soft white silk and fine, soft muslin; and then, having added a large store of underclothing, all of the best 132 quality, and one or two pale-pink and pale-blue evening-frocks, all severely30 plain, she got once more into her carriage, and, accompanied by Evelyn, drove home. On the seat in front of the pair reposed31 a box which contained a very simple white muslin frock for Evelyn to wear that evening.
“I suppose Jasper will have gone when I get back?” said the little girl to Lady Frances.
“Certainly,” said Lady Frances. “I ordered her to be out of the house by half-past three; it is now past five o’clock.”
“What am I to do for a maid?”
“My servant Read shall wait on you to-night and every evening and morning until our guests have gone; then Audrey’s maid Louisa will attend on you.”
“But I want a maid all to myself.”
“You cannot have one. Louisa will give you what assistance is necessary. I presume you do not want to be absolutely dependent; you would like to be able to do things for yourself.”
“In mother’s time I did everything for myself, but now it is different. I am a very, very rich girl now.”
Lady Frances was silent when Evelyn made this remark.
“I am rich, am I not, Aunt Frances?” said the little heiress almost timidly.
“I cannot see where the riches come in, Evelyn. At the present moment you depend on your uncle for every penny that is spent upon you.” 133
“But I am the heiress!”
“Let the future take care of itself. You are a little girl—small, insignificant32, and ignorant. You require to be trained and looked after, and to have your character moulded, and for all these things you depend on the kindness of your relations. The fact is this, Evelyn: at present you have not the slightest idea of your true position. When you find your level I shall have hopes of you—not before.”
Evelyn leant back hopelessly in the carriage and began to sob33. After a time she said:
“I wish you would let me keep Jasper.”
Lady Frances was silent.
“Why won’t you let me keep Jasper?”
“I do not consider it good for you.”
“But mothery asked you to.”
“It gives me pain, Evelyn, under the circumstances to refuse your mother’s request; but I have consulted your uncle, and we both feel that the steps I have taken are the only ones to take.”
“Who will sleep in my room to-night?”
“Are you such a baby as to need anybody?”
“I never slept alone in my life. I am quite terrified. I suppose your big, ancient house is haunted?”
“Oh, what a silly child you are! Very well, for a night or two I will humor you, and Read shall sleep in the room; but now clearly understand I allow no bedroom suppers and no gossip—but Read will see to that. Now, make up your mind to be happy and contented—in short, to submit to the life which Providence34 has ordered for you. Think first 134 of others and last of yourself and you may be happy. Consult Audrey and Miss Sinclair and you will gain wisdom. Obey me whether you like it or not, or you will certainly be a very wretched girl. Ah! and here we are. You would like to go to the schoolroom; they are having tea there, I believe. Run off, dear; that will do for the present.”
When Evelyn reached the schoolroom she found a busy and
Join or Log In!
You need to log in to continue reading