Frederica and her Guardians Part 2

"Yes, Miss Baines says it is the book of books, and mama approves of it too. She has one, you know, only it is in Hebrew. I shall ask some one about it,--which is the right kind I mean."

"Papa, for instance, or Mr St. Cyr. But one would tell you one thing, and the other another, and you would be just in the same place. Only I think papa would just laugh at you."

"I suppose so. But there must be some way of finding out the truth."

"Better go and ask the bishop," said Tessie, laughing. "But then there are two bishops, and which is the right? Don't be a goose, Fred."

"I am quite serious, I a.s.sure you, for the moment," added she. "And indeed, it is a thing to be quite serious about."

"If we had gone to the convent, as Mr St. Cyr and Madame Ascot wished, instead of to Mrs Glencairn's, we should have known all about it. But then it is quite right that we should be of the same religion as papa.

Still I think he did not care himself, only he wished to vex Mr St.

Cyr."

Frederica said nothing for a minute, and her sister added--

"We ought to learn about it in church: that is what we go to church for, I suppose."

"Yes, and I like to go very well, but I get very sleepy during the sermon, especially when we go with Miss Robina. I try to listen sometimes; but of course all that is meant for grown-up people, and I don't understand it."

"Were you not just telling Mr St. Cyr that you are grown up? But I think you are very stupid to bother about it. If people say their prayers and are nice and obliging, and all that, I think that is quite enough. I am sure mama is good, and so is Selina, and what is the use talking so much about religion, _as_ though that would make any difference?"

"Yes, mama is good, and Selina, but I am not, at least very often I am not. And there must be some way of finding out what is wrong and what is right."

"Of course there is--your own conscience," said Tessie, triumphantly.

"Hasn't Mrs Glencairn often told you?"

Frederica shook her head.

"But there must be something more than that. I wish I knew."

"Say your prayers and go to church, that is religion, everybody knows.

But to be good and nice is something quite different. I think you are very silly, with all your wishes and talking, and I beg you won't say anything to Selina about it. She thinks of things afterwards, and you are not to vex her. And don't look like that, or I shall wish you had gone to church with Mr St. Cyr. But you will forget all about it before to-morrow. That is one comfort."

"Very likely; but that does not prove anything;" said Frederica.

"Everybody ought to have some kind of religion; and sometimes, when I used to see Miss Baines so happy in the midst of all her pain and trouble, I thought of poor mama, and wished that she could know all about it. But I won't say anything to Selina just yet."

"No, nor ever, unless you are a goose. Here we are at home. Won't they be glad?" And the little girl ran up the broad stone steps, and danced out her impatience while she was made to wait for the opening of the door.

"No," said Frederica, as she stood at her side; "I am not going to spoil our visit with religion, at any rate; and I daresay you are right, Tessie, and I may forget all about it before the week is over."

CHAPTER THREE.

Easter fell late this year. The gra.s.s on the sheltered lawn was already green, and there were many budding things in the borders; and with the sunshine falling on them so warm and bright, it almost seemed to the children like a summer day. Tessie could not resist the temptation to run down the steps again, to peep through the wires and over the low cedar hedge at the crocuses and snowdrops beyond:

"We shall have cold days enough yet," she said as she came back; "but I need not spoil to-day thinking about them. It is just like summer to-day."

"We shall make a summer day in the house to mama and Selina, that is-- and to the children--and to Madame Marie Pauline Precoe Ascot, too, if she will let us; to the rest, whether she will or not."

The coming in of the two children brightened their mother's dim room like sunshine, and the more this time that they were not expected. It was early yet, and their mother was not dressed; but their sister sprang to meet them with a glad cry, and in a minute they were all rejoicing round their mother's couch.

"A week of holidays, mama! Think of it, Lina! a whole week. I don't in the least know how it happened. Somebody is going away or somebody is coming. It doesn't matter; here we are. Isn't it nice?"

And so they chattered on for a time, while their mother listened.

"Lina," said Frederica, in a little, "stand up, and let me see how tall you are."

Seeing her there in her mother's room, you would never have supposed that Selina Vane was blind. Her eyes were a clear and lovely blue, well opened and bright. She walked about the room, not rapidly, but still lightly; not at all like one afraid. While going about the house and garden, she bent slightly forward, and walked with one hand held a little out before her; but here, in her mother's dressing-room, she had no look of blindness. Her face was as bright and happy as her sister's, and she rose at Frederica's bidding, laughing and wondering a little.

Her sister placed herself beside her, and measured the difference in their height with her hand. She shook her head gravely.

"There _is_ a dreadful difference. I am a shockingly little creature; am I not, mama?"

She put on such a face of ludicrous dismay, that her mother could not but laugh.

"Mama, I am nearly fifteen. I ought to be a woman by this time, and really I am nothing but a child."

She stood before a large dressing-gla.s.s, and surveyed herself discontentedly.

"These curls have something to do with it, and this short dress. That can be remedied, however."

In a moment she had obtained a dressing-gown of her mother's, and, drawing the silken cord tightly round her waist, she walked up and down, looking over her shoulder to see herself in the gla.s.s. The whole thing was done in a manner so childish, and so amusing, that her mother laughed merrily; and her little brother who had come in with Tessie, clapped their hands. Frederica laughed too.

"I am afraid it is not the dress, mama; I am only a child."

"My darling! a happy child is a very good thing to be. I hope it will be a long time before you are anything but a happy child. The longer the better," added she, with a sigh.

"That is what Cousin Cyprien said, mama," said Frederica, gravely.

"Yes; it was Mr St. Cyr that put all that nonsense in her head about being a woman and grown up," said Tessie, severely; "and she told him she had a deal of sense, though she was so little. For my part, I am very well content to be a child."

"But you have a child, you know, dear; only thirteen, or is it twelve, mama? A precocious child certainly, but still a child," said Frederica, with an air.

"Mama, look at her. She must be forty, at least," exclaimed Tessie.

"She must be considerably older than Mrs Ascot--ever so much older than Lina."

"What is it all about?" asked Selina, gently.

"Never mind. Don't ask her, Lina. She is so dreadfully wise and clever that she is quite too much for me sometimes. I should not wonder if Mrs Glencairn would wish to engage her to supply Miss Robina's place when she is married."

"Tessie, that is a secret. You promised not to tell--about Miss Robina, I mean."

"How prudent, too?" said Tessie. "Mama, we are not crazy; only we are so glad to get home."

"And indeed, mama, I am very willing to be a child for a long time yet,"

said Frederica, and seizing her little brother Hubert, she danced with him round the room to music of her own making. Catching Charlie's hands, Tessie followed, while Selina, laughing, joined in the music, though not in the dance.

"Mama," said she, softly, "is it the same house do you think?"

The boys might have grown too noisy, but Frederica brought their play to an end presently.