Merivale

“ Would any day next week be convenient, my dear?”
“Any day,” said Pauline smilingly. “But the sooner the better. Be sure and bring your violin, Rose. I want Mrs. Metcalfe to hear you play. She is a brilliant performer herself. We must have a musical afternoon while you are here. Don’t you think you could spare her for a week, Miss Merivale? We shall have so much to do.”
“We will see, my dear,” said Miss Merivale, getting up. “A week sounds a long time. But we will see. We must go now, Rosie. The carriage will be waiting. You and Miss Desborough must come and see us, my dear. ”

“ Meanwhile Merivale won a reputation as a novelist with 'Faucit of Balliol' (3 vols. 1882) , the earlier chapters of which give an admirable picture of Oxford life. He proved his literary facility in a fairy tale for children, 'Binko's Blues' (1884) , and 'Florien,' a five-act tragedy in verse (1884) , and in frequent contributions to 'Blackwood,' the 'Cornhill,' the 'Spectator,' 'Punch,' 'Saturday Review,' the 'World,' and 'Truth.' But it was in poetic drama that Merivale's ability, which combined fancy and wit with a poetic imagination, showed to best advantage. ”

“ Merivale jumped out: a tall man with a very fair moustache and close-cropped fair hair alighted after Merivale and was introduced and shook hands and made several jokes and was on terms of equality before he and Merivale and Michael had got into the blue-lined fly that was to drive them to Captain Ross’s hotel. During the few days of Captain Ross’s stay, he and Michael and Merivale and Miss Carthew went sailing and climbed up Beachy Head and watched a cricket match in Devonshire Park and generally behaved like all the other summer visitors to Eastbourne. ”

“ She had adopted them when Rose was a baby and Tom a sturdy lad of five. Woodcote had been their home ever since. Tom had grown up knowing that the estate was to be his at Miss Merivale’s death. James Merivale had died young, ten years before his father; and Lydia, Miss Merivale’s only sister, had married against her father’s wishes, and had been disowned by him. After vainly trying to gain his forgiveness, she and her husband emigrated to Australia, and for some years nothing was heard of them. ”

“ They are generally worked by two men, who live and sleep in the little cabin astern.
We left Frank Merivale very much absorbed in thought. All at once a happy thought seemed to strike him, for he started from his reverie, and began to execute a step something between a walk and a war-dance. A clump of rushes put an untimely end to this by tripping him up, and causing him to measure his length upon the ground. With philosophical composure he picked himself up, and walked off, whistling merrily, towards a fir copse which stood upon the crest of a rising, lying above. ”

“ I haven’t time for any study. We workers lead very busy lives, Miss Merivale. I am rushing all day from one thing to another, feeling all the time that I ought to be doing something else.”
It suggested itself to Miss Merivale that work undertaken in that hurried fashion must do more harm than good; but she was too eager to speak of Rhoda Sampson to think much of anything else. “You have someone to help you, Miss Smythe told us yesterday,” she said. “Someone who typewrites your letters.” ”

“ And, mind, not a single ornament, not one!"
"O, mother!" exclaims Doris, pouting; "not my pearl cross that father gave me on my last birthday?"
"Tut, my dear!" puts in Mr. Merivale, who has overheard this touching appeal, "let her wear it. What's the use of having things if they are never to see the light?"
"Well, as it is only pearl, I don't mind. I will send Lane to see that all is right," continues Mrs. Merivale, "and to give any finishing touches that may be wanted; and now I must go downstairs again. There are several things I want to see to before I dress. ”

“ 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? ”

“ 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.” ”

“ She gave his hand a last playful tap and he got to his feet.
He put tips into the soft palm of the barber and the hard palm of the colored boy who handed him his hat, and walked slowly up the white marble steps. On the landing was a mirror. Captain James Merivale stopped to look at Captain James Merivale. He was a tall straightfeatured young man with a slight heaviness under the chin. He wore a neatfitting whipcord uniform picked out by the insignia of the Rainbow Division, well furnished with ribbons and service-stripes. ”

“ Metcalfe to send us such a person. There are so many ladies who would be glad to do the work.”
Miss Merivale had caught her breath sharply as Pauline mentioned Australia, but neither of the girls noticed her agitation. Rose had wandered to the window, and was looking with delight at the vast expanse of chimney-tops, and the little glimpse of the river, grey under the cold March sky. And Pauline was slowly stirring her tea, with her eyes cast down. She was thinking whether it would be wise to drop a hint about Rose’s unhappiness at Woodcote. ”

“ M’Alister, drying her tears. Now that Rhoda seemed to bear the news so well, she was able to think of the bright side of things. “And you must spend a long month with us in the summer, Rhoda darling. James means to insist on that. He does mean to be kind, dear.”
“I am sure he does. And when he hears about Miss Merivale he will make you see that it would be foolish of me to think of leaving London. But here comes the tea at last. I will run up and wash my hands first. Don’t wait for me, Aunt Mary.” ”

“ 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. ”

“ I am quite able to earn my own living.”
Miss Merivale dropped her hand suddenly, and rose and went to the window. The quiver in Rhoda’s voice was more than she could bear. She spoke without turning round. “I see they are carrying the tea into the garden. Let us go out. I thought it would be pleasanter to have it out of doors. And afterwards you shall tell me what you mean to do. I should like”—
But she checked herself. She wanted to say that she would like Rhoda to come to Woodcote; but she saw how strange such a wish would seem, both to Rhoda and to Tom and Rose. She must wait a little. ”

“ 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?” ”

“ 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. ”

“ How pretty your room is! So is mine. It is a charming house altogether. May I sit down and talk to you a little? I want you and Miss Merivale to spend a long day with us next week. Do you think you could persuade her to come?”
The change in Pauline’s manner was so extraordinary that Rhoda found it difficult to speak. But Pauline did not appear to notice her constrained answer. She sat down in the low chair by the window and took up the photograph frame that stood there by Rhoda’s little writing case and a saucer filled with white violets and moss. ”

“ Miss Merivale had said little about her journey to town. She left Tom and Rose under the impression that she had called at the lawyer’s, and it was not till the next day that she casually mentioned her visit to Mrs. M’Alister.
“I have asked Miss Sampson to come and see me,” she added, after telling them that Rhoda was to do some typewriting for her. “I am interested in her, Rose. Did you know that poor Lydia’s second husband was named Sampson? It is not at all certain that this girl is of the same family, as she comes from quite a different part of Australia. But I should like to see her.” ”

“ MERIVALE, CHARLES (1808–1893) , English historian and dean of Ely, the second son of John Herman Merivale and Louisa Heath Drury, daughter of Dr Drury, head master of Harrow, was born on the 8th of March 1808. His father (1779–1844) was an English barrister, and, from 1831, a commissioner in bankruptcy; he collaborated with Robert Bland (1779–1825) in his Collections from the Greek Anthology, and published some excellent translations from Italian and German. Charles Merivale was at Harrow School (1818 to 1824) under Dr Butler. ”

“ 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.” ”

“ 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.” ”

“ Mother is coming home rather sooner than we expected, and I am going back to Desborough with her.”
“Indeed? You will be sorry to give up your work, won’t you, my dear?” asked Miss Merivale mechanically, as she watched Clare turning over her address-book.
“Mother has promised that I shall come back later on and stay with Aunt Metcalfe. I shall like that better than this. One gets tired of a flat after a time. But here is Miss Sampson’s address. Will you write to her, or shall I tell her what you want?” ”

“ 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.” ”

“ Rose did not hear the question. She had caught sight of Rhoda entering the hall through the swing doors that led to Wilmot’s pantry, and she stepped back to speak to her. They stood talking together by the wide stone hearth, filled now with green fir boughs. Pauline noticed how Tom’s eyes kept wandering to them as he made disjointed remarks to her and his aunt, and he presently moved across the hall to join them.
Miss Merivale got up from her seat in the porch. “It is getting chilly, my dear,” she said to Pauline. “Shall we go into the dining-room? Tea will be ready in a few moments.” ”

“ Tom says the ground is carpeted with them.”
Rose did not answer. The pony had started aside at the sight of a railway train that had just come out of the tunnel, and she was engaged in soothing it.
“Rose, you had better let me drive,” Pauline suggested. “I drove a great deal when I was staying with the Warehams. You are not firm enough.”
“It is only trains and traction engines Bob is frightened of,” Miss Merivale said. “And coaxing is best, I am sure. There, we shall have no more trouble with him now. He is a dear little fellow.” ”