Mrs. Henry Clarke

“ I don’t wish to speak harshly of her, Rose, and we will do all we can for her. But you must not live with her again. Not because her grandmother is Mrs. Smith,” added Miss Merivale quickly, afraid that Rose might misunderstand her. “It isn’t that. Rhoda’s people are in the same rank of life as the Smiths, yet Rhoda is a true gentlewoman.”
“Aunt Lucy, I could not live with Pauline again,” Rose said earnestly. “Besides, I want to live at home. I believe I shall loathe the thought of a flat as long as I live. Pauline has effectually cured me of my desire to live in one.” ”

“ I wouldn’t stay away a week, Rosie, if I were you. She misses you dreadfully if you are away only a day.”
“But it is so dull here, doing nothing day after day but wait on Aunt Lucy, and pick the flowers, and look after the old people in the village,” said Rose, moved to a sudden burst of confidence. “It’s different for you, Tom. You have your shooting and fishing, and the estate to look after, and all the rest of it. But I’m at home all day”—
“That’s where a girl ought to be, my dear,” returned Tom good-humouredly. “I’m not going to pity you. If you are dull, it’s your own fault. ”

“ Tom said in a playful scolding voice. “You do want a lot of looking after, Aunt Lucy. Have you a fire? The wind is keen, though the sun is so bright. Here, let me make a better fire than this.”
He knelt down on the rug, stirring the logs into a cheerful blaze. Miss Merivale sank down on the sofa and watched him in silence. If Tom had looked attentively at her, he would have seen that her face was grey with pain. She had spent some bitter hours since Pauline had spoken to her that morning. Though she had done it for Tom’s sake, she feared that he would find it very hard to forgive her. ”

“ How tired you look, Aunt Mary! Jack and Willie, I hope you have been good?”
“They have been very good,” said Mrs. M’Alister hastily. “I have been trying to get my work finished. Give me your hat and jacket, darling; Jack shall take them upstairs for you. You have had a long day. How beautiful those flowers are! They scent the room already. English flowers are sweeter than our flowers used to be. But we had a lovely garden, hadn’t we?” She was speaking very nervously, and she kissed Rhoda again as she took her hat and jacket from her. “I am so glad Miss Merivale was so kind, dear.” ”

“ Pauline frowned a little. She did not care to be reminded, even by foolish, flattering little Rose, that she was, in sober fact, nothing more nor less than Clare’s paid companion.
“Oh, we get on,” she said coolly. “We each leave the other to go her own way in peace. And it suits Lady Desborough in Rome to say that Clare is living with her old governess. People think of me as a spectacled lady of an uncertain age, and everybody is satisfied. But you would like some tea. I wish Clare was in. She isn’t afraid of that gas stove. ”

“ Now it is a society. Clare is secretary.”
“But you spoke of some girl who came here,” persisted Miss Merivale.
Pauline lifted her delicately-pencilled eyebrows. “Oh, that is Clare’s typewriter. She is part of the joke. If you saw Clare and her together over their letters, you would think they were reforming the universe. It hasn’t dawned on poor Sampson yet that Clare will get tired of the whole business in a month. It is lucky she has the Post Office to fall back on. Clare is exactly what she used to be at school, Rose, ‘everything by starts and nothing long.’ It amuses me to watch her.” ”

“ But perhaps Miss Merivale would be able to help her to get something better. If she could earn a pound a week, there would be no need for Aunt Mary to tire her eyes out over that weary needlework. A pound a week would be riches added to the weekly wages Ned brought home and the interest from the money they had laid by for a rainy day. There would be no need for Aunt Mary to work for those hard shop-people any more. And Rhoda’s eyes sparkled as she thought of packing up the last parcel of fine needle-work and taking it back with the message that no more was wanted. ”

“ I have missed you more than I could tell you.”
“Really?” asked Rose half wistfully, half teasingly. “You’ve had Miss Sampson, you know, Aunt Lucy.”
“I want you both,” Miss Merivale said in an eager voice. “Rose, you will try to love her, won’t you? She is so lonely. Mrs. M’Alister and her children have gone to Devonshire, and Rhoda was left behind. She has nobody but us. You won’t treat her like a stranger, will you, dearest?”
Rose felt chilled and hurt by her aunt’s strange eagerness. It was all very well for Tom to speak so, but her aunt was different. ”

“ Aunt Lucy couldn’t do without you, and you wouldn’t leave her if you could. So what’s the use of talking? And as to your being dull, I don’t believe it. You only imagine you are. That’s where your cleverness comes in, you see. We stupid people aren’t ashamed to be contented.”
Rose could not help laughing at this, though she felt very cross. But she felt Tom was right in saying that her aunt could not do without her for very long. And she told herself sorrowfully that she must give up all hope of sharing Pauline’s flat when Clare went back to dull captivity at Desborough Park. ”

“ Miss Merivale said, with a laugh. “He won’t sow a seed without asking her opinion first. My opinions he has always laughed to scorn.”
“And mine too,” said Rose, with a merry glance at Rhoda. “He has always been a regular despot about the garden. How have you managed to subdue him, Miss Sampson?”
“I expect he has found out that Miss Sampson knows more than he does,” said Pauline smilingly. “I want you to teach me something about flowers while I am here, Miss Sampson. I have schemes for a flower-box outside our windows at the flat. Don’t you think that would be a delightful plan, Rosie?” ”

“ Rose, my dear, I want you to be very good to her.”
Pauline stole a look at Rose, expecting to see a cloud of jealousy on her pretty face; but she saw instead a tender, happy smile lurking in the corners of her lips. She was distinctly mystified.
“Yes, I remember now that Rose spoke of some distant family connection,” she said carelessly to Miss Merivale. “How very good of you to acknowledge it, dear Miss Merivale! Some people wouldn’t, I know. They think poor relations should be kept out of sight as much as possible. But Miss Sampson is hardly to be called a relation, is she? ”

“ One of her uncles is a butcher; she told Clare so.”
“I don’t see why she should be ashamed of it,” returned Rose, answering Pauline’s tone rather than her words. “It’s what people are in themselves that matters, not what trade their relations belong to. But Miss Sampson has no relations of her very own. The M’Alisters adopted her. And Aunt Lucy thinks that her uncle might have been Cousin Lydia’s husband. It is that which made Aunt Lucy so interested in her at first. For, you know, if Cousin Lydia’s little girl had lived, she would have had Woodcote, and not Tom. ”

“ And she grew cross at last at Wilmot’s continual praises of her.
She went back by an earlier train than she had intended. She found that her aunt and the others would not return till dark; it was no good to wait for them.
She walked from Victoria to Chelsea along the Embankment, trying to convince herself that it was good to be in London. But her step flagged as she went up the stone stairs, and when she got to the flat and found that Pauline had not returned, a great flood of loneliness rushed over her. ”

“ I am afraid Miss Merivale will think so.”
“I didn’t say anything about the concert,” returned Rose. “She talked about Miss Sampson chiefly. She seems to think her perfect.”
“I daresay,” returned Pauline, with a yawn. “Those sort of people always hang together. She’s more of Wilmot’s class than ours, you know. I wonder what your aunt thinks of her.”
“Oh, Aunt Lucy thinks her perfect too,” returned Rose, no longer able to keep her jealousy out of her voice. “And so does Tom. I don’t believe they miss me one little bit, Pauline.” ”

“ Old Mrs. Harding was there. She is failing very fast, poor old soul. Part of the time she thought I was Cousin James, Aunt Lucy. She wanted to know when I heard last from my sister Lydia.”
Miss Merivale put her cup down with a little clatter. Her hand had begun to tremble. “You are very much like James, Tom,” she said, glancing at the portrait that hung on the wainscoted wall just above him, “and you get more like him every day.”
It was the portrait of her only brother she was looking at. Tom and Rose were her cousin’s children, though they called her aunt. ”

“ Where love is, even a dull London street has its sunshine.
Acacia Road was reached at last, and the cab drew up before a small bow-windowed house that had a card, “Apartments to Let,” over the hall door. A little servant with a dirty apron and a merry face opened the door, and two boys with bright red pinafores came rushing from the sitting-room behind her.
Miss Sampson wasn’t in, but her aunt, Mrs. M’Alister, was, the smiling servant-maid told Miss Merivale, and led the way into the front sitting-room. The boys ran upstairs. ”

“ Rhoda made some fitting response, but Pauline discerned the coldness in her voice. She said angrily to herself that Rhoda did not deserve to know what she could tell her. And ten minutes later she had fully made up her mind to speak to Miss Merivale. It was another discovery which had led her to a decision. She had wandered on before Rose towards the end of the garden, where an archway through a clipped yew hedge led to the stables and farm buildings. Her steps made no sound on the turf path, and she suddenly came in sight of Tom and Rhoda standing close to the archway. ”

“ How obstinate you are, Rosie!” exclaimed Pauline irritably. “I will drive, and make Bob understand that he must hurry a little. Why should we walk up that long tiresome lane to save his legs? There is no hill to speak of the other way, you say. I am too tired to walk a step. I am not so strong as you are. Miss Sampson, don’t you agree with me that the high road will be much the better way for us?”
“We promised Miss Merivale that we would be back early,” Rhoda said coldly. “I think it is a pity to go out of our way.” ”

“ Tell Rose I won’t have any tea. I want to keep quite quiet.”
Rhoda did not tell her that Rose and Pauline had not returned. She was afraid she might be alarmed. The deadly pallor of her face quite frightened her. She spoke to Tom when she went downstairs.
“Miss Merivale looks very ill,” she said, “and she won’t let me do anything for her.”
Tom was sitting at the table before the hall window, busy making flies for his trout fishing. He was so intent on his work that he did not look up.
“She gets bad headaches. I should not be anxious. She always likes to be left alone.” ”

“ You would not have come to London if Ned wasn’t here. I know how you have hated it. And you must not trouble about me. There are heaps of places now where girls can live comfortably for very little. I will ask Miss Desborough to-morrow. And if I can pass the Post Office examination, I might get appointed to Plymouth. Aunt Mary, don’t cry. I can’t bear it.”
“You don’t feel it as I shall,” sobbed Mrs. M’Alister, without looking up. “But I couldn’t let Ned go to Plymouth alone, Rhoda. ”

“ But it is exactly like Clare; she is more a machine herself than a human being. I was very fond of her once, but I have found her trying to live with. They say you never know a woman till you have lived six months with her. Don’t put too many daffodils in one pot, my Rose; they want plenty of room to show themselves.”
Rhoda had finished the work Clare had left for her. She carefully put her papers together, and rose from the table. Pauline looked carelessly round at her. “Ah, are you going, Miss Sampson? Here is the money Miss Desborough left for you. ”

“ She knew the little locket well. She herself had given it to Lydia one birthday. It was her own hair under the glass, with the ring of tiny pearls round it. All doubt vanished from her mind. She was certain now that Rhoda was her niece.
She came back to the side of the table where Rhoda was sitting, and put her hand on her shoulder as she gave her back the locket.
“Thank you for letting me see it, my dear,” she said in a voice that trembled a good deal in spite of the intense effort she was making to hide her agitation. “And now can you make yourself happy in the garden for a little while? ”