Frederica and her Guardians Part 12

And not giving herself time to lose courage by thinking about the difficulties before her, she hastened away. But when she found herself in the dismal hall into which Mr St. Cyr's office opened, and from which the staircase to his house led, she wished herself well away again. It was late in the morning by this time, but Mr St. Cyr had not come down to his office, the man who opened the door told her, and Frederica went upstairs with a beating heart. She thought she had come at a wrong time, when she opened the door, and found that Mr St. Cyr was not alone. But her friend hastened to welcome her, and though he expressed some surprise at the sight of her, he expressed pleasure also.

"Only I fear you must be in trouble again," said he, kindly. "Is it something very serious this time? Ah! yes, your face says so. It is not--is it p.r.i.c.kly Polly? But first let me introduce my brother to you, whom you ought to know. Jerome, this is Theresa's daughter--Mr St.

Hubert's grandchild."

"It must be Theresa herself, I think," said the dark man, who rose and held out his hand.

"No, I am Frederica. Theresa is younger than I."

"She is very like her, is she not? Just the same bright little creature. But she is not bright to-day. Tell me what is the matter, my little cousin."

Frederica hesitated. She did not like to speak before Mr St. Cyr's brother. She would not have liked to speak before anyone, but, as she told Tessie afterwards, the Reverend Mr St. Cyr had not a nice face.

It was a face that somehow made her think of a mask, and she looked with a little startled curiosity at him, wondering what might be behind it.

"It brings back your youth, does it not? She is very like what her mother was in those days. But her mother is changed. Ah! so sadly changed," said Mr St. Cyr, with a sigh.

But the priest did not answer a word.

"Well, what can I do for you?" said Mr St. Cyr, turning to Frederica.

"Who has been troubling you this time? Not p.r.i.c.kly Polly, sorely? I thought I had settled her affairs the other day. What is it now?"

"Did you?" said Frederica, eagerly. "And was it very disagreeable?"

"Well, for her, rather so, I fancy. What is it now? Is it a secret?

And does Madame the Schoolmistress let you go here and there about the city by yourself? She thinks you 'sensible,' I suppose?"

Frederica shook her head.

"I was not alone. Nora took me to papa's office, and then I came here.

It is not a secret, but--"

The Rev. Mr St. Cyr sat down, and took up a book.

"Regard him as if he were made of wood," said Cousin Cyprien, laughing; "and now tell me all your trouble."

"I don't know whether I ought to tell you, but I don't know what else to do."

And then she told him all her trouble; how she had heard by accident that Mrs Glencairn had received nothing for their board and education for a long time, and how she had gone to her father, and he had been angry, and said he could do nothing, and then she added,--

"I think Mrs Ascot, must know. Do you think Madame Ascot is a trustworthy person, Cousin Cyprien? Of course she is disagreeable, and cross, and all that; but not to be trustworthy is something quite different. And papa says it was not his fault that she came to our house. Do you think her a good woman. Mr St. Cyr? Is she trustworthy?"

He listened to her story without a word, only smiling and nodding now and then till she came to the end and asked those questions about Mrs Ascot. Then he looked uneasily towards his brother, but his brother never lifted his eyes from his book, nor seemed to hear a word.

"We must not speak evil of her, nor accuse her without sufficient grounds," said he gravely.

"No," said Frederica faintly. "But I do not mean because of this altogether. She is not always considerate towards mama, I am afraid, and mama is ill, and--alone. But I need not trouble you about it.

Pardon me if I ought not to have come to you."

"You did right to come to me. I can set right all this mysterious affair. You shall not hear of it again. Of course you are to come to me."

"But, Cousin Cyprien," said Frederica, taking courage from his kindness, "ought I to need to come to you always? Is there not something wrong that might be remedied?"

"My dear child, almost everything in the world is wrong, and I very much fear must always remain so. But this can be remedied, and it shall be on one condition. You are not to trouble yourself about it. Are you the little girl who the other day nearly overturned me? You look like an old woman with that naughty wrinkle in your forehead."

Frederica laughed.

"What should I do, if I might not come to you? And yet I ought not to need to come. There must be something wrong," added she, the naughty wrinkle coming to her forehead again. "Was it grandpapa who put it all wrong, as papa says? or is it Madame Ascot? or perhaps papa himself?"

added she, with some hesitation.

Mr St. Cyr answered her gravely.

"My little girl, we will not ask. I will set this matter right--no, not to-day, but soon, and you must not think of it any more."

His promise sounded very different in Frederica's ears, from the promise her father had made. Mr St. Cyr did not forget. Still she lingered as if she had more to say, and as if she were not quite sure whether she ought to say it.

"Do you wish Mrs Ascot to stay in our house, Cousin Cyprien? Papa said to-day it was not by his wish that she ever came. Do you like her, Mr St. Cyr? Have you confidence in her? I am quite sure I could make mama and Selina much happier than she makes them."

"This terrible Madame Ascot!" said Mr St. Cyr with a shrug. "No, I don't think I like her very much, or have much confidence in her. But we will not speak of her. When you are old enough and wise enough to take care of your mama and your sister, and the housekeeping, and all that, we shall dispense with madame altogether, I fancy. But this must be a secret till the right time comes, and we shall say no more about it."

"I am almost old enough, am I not? Well, I will wait patiently."

"Good child! that will be best," said Mr St. Cyr.

Then he showed her several curious things that were in the cabinet, and a fine picture he had lately purchased, and then he rang for some fruit, and was very attentive and full of ceremony in serving her; and then he went downstairs with her, when she went away.

"Good day, my little cousin," said he. "Be sure you come to me always.

I wish I could put aside all trouble from you as easily as I can put aside this one. Though, indeed, I may have vexation more than enough, before I am done with it," he muttered, as he went upstairs to his brother again.

And he did have vexation, and so had Mrs Ascot, and Mr Vane did not escape without his share. But Frederica had no more. In a day or two she gathered from various sources that Mrs Glencairn had been paid in full, and with interest, and that was enough for her. She never heard another word more about the matter.

CHAPTER NINE.

Mr St. Cyr's vexation began the moment he went upstairs again into the room where his brother was sitting. A good many years before this time, Mr Jerome St. Cyr had known the St. Huberts, and had looked upon Theresa's marriage with Mr Vane, as almost all her friends had done, as a terrible sacrifice. He had been a young man then, he was much younger than his brother. He had gone to Europe to pursue his studies soon after that, and had remained there after they were finished. His correspondence with his brother had not been very regular or frequent, and he knew little of what was pa.s.sing among his friends all that time.

He had only lately returned home, and he showed great interest in the Vane family, and asked his brother many questions concerning them. Mr St. Cyr gave him some particulars of them and their manner of life; of Mrs Vane's ill-health, and the quiet way in which she and her blind daughter lived together.

"But, my brother," said Jerome St. Cyr, "I do not understand how you should have permitted affairs to take such a course, you who have so long had the power in your own hand. Why should these girls be losing their time at a second or third-rate school, as seems to be the case?

Why have they not been all these years with the Sisters of the Sacred Heart? And the boys, too! Think of them wasting their time with some foolish young person who goes to them daily! It is little less than disgraceful."

"You mistake," said Mr St. Cyr quietly. "I have had the management of their grandfathers property for their mother's use, but I have had no power--no, nor the shadow of power, nor of influence, where Mr Vane's children are concerned."

"Then permit me to say that you have been very culpable in this matter, I should have obtained influence and power too."

Mr St. Cyr shrugged his shoulders, but said nothing.

"And all this immense property that has been acc.u.mulating since Mr St.

Hubert's death, this rascally Englishman is to have?"

"No, his children are to have it--Theresa St. Hubert's children. It has made the Englishman sufficiently miserable thus far--the sight of I mean, without the power to use it. Not but that he has had some good of it too."

"But to think of these poor children growing up without Christian instruction! Did Mr St. Hubert make no condition as to their education--their religion? I cannot imagine how you and Pauline Precoe can reconcile it to your sense of duty, to your conscience, that it should be as it is with them. With Pauline Precoe's help, I should have made it quite otherwise."