Sisters Three Part 13

Aggravating boy! It would be just as easy to draw water from a stone, as to persuade him to say anything nice and soothing to one's vanity!

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

MISS CARR'S CHOICE.

Wednesday was a day of great, though suppressed excitement, and when evening came, and Miss Carr summoned the girls into the drawing-room, it would be difficult to say which of the three felt the more acute anxiety. Mr Rayner had considerately taken himself out of the way, but Mr Bertrand was seated in an easy chair, his arms folded, his face grave and set. Miss Carr pointed to the sofa, and the three girls sat down, turning inquiring eyes on her face. It was horribly formal, and even Norah felt cowed and spiritless.

"Girls," said Miss Carr slowly, "it was my intention to say nothing about my plans until I had made my decision, but it seems that your father has forestalled me and told you of my wishes. ... When you were little children I saw a great deal of you. Your father was one of my most valued friends, your dear mother also, and you were often at my house. When you came here I felt a great blank in my life, for I am fond of young people, and like to have them about me. Last January, your father visited me, and told me of a conversation which he had had with you here. He was anxious about your future, and it occurred to me that in some slight degree I might be able to take the responsibility off his hands. I have felt the need of a companion, and of some fresh interest in life, and nothing could give me more pleasure than to help one of Austin Bertrand's daughters. Well, my dears, I spoke to your father: he did not like the idea at first, as you will understand, but in the end he gave way to my wishes, and it only remained to make my choice. When I use the word 'choice,' you must not imagine that I am consulting merely my own preference. I have honestly tried to study the question from an unselfish point of view--to think which of you would most benefit from the change. One consideration has influenced me of which I can only speak in private, but for the rest I have watched you carefully, and it seemed to me that two out of the three have already a definite interest and occupation in their lives, which is wanting in the other case. Lettice has no special work in the house, no pet study to pursue; therefore, my dears, I choose Lettice--"

There was a simultaneous exclamation of consternation.

"Lettice!" cried Hilary, and drew in her breath with a pang of bitterest disappointment.

"Lettice! Oh, no, no, no!" cried Norah, throwing her arms round her favourite sister, and trembling with agitation.

"My little Lettice!" echoed Mr Bertrand, with a groan of such genuine dismay, that Miss Carr stared at him in discomfiture.

"My dear Austin--if it makes you so unhappy--"

"No--no. I gave you my word, and I am not going back. Besides," with a kindly glance at the other two girls, "I should have felt the same, whichever way you had decided. Well, that's settled! I am off now, Helen. We can have our talk later."

He walked hastily out of the room, and Miss Carr turned back to the girls with a troubled expression.

"My dears, I know you will both feel parting with your sister, but I will do all I can to soften the blow. You can always look forward to meeting at Christmas and Midsummer, and I shall ask your father to bring you up in turns to visit us in London. Though Lettice is to be my special charge, I take a deep interest in you both, and shall hope to put many little pleasures in your way. And now, my dears, will you leave us alone for a time? I want to have a quiet talk with Lettice before we part."

The two girls filed out of the room, and stood in the hall, facing each other in silence. Miss Briggs put her head out of the morning-room, with an eager--"Well--_Who_!" and when Norah pointed dolefully towards the drawing-room door, disappeared again with an exclamation of dismay.

It was the same all round, Hilary told herself. Everyone was miserable because Lettice had been chosen. Everyone called out in sharp tones of distress, as if disappointed not to hear another name. Mr Bertrand was too dear and kind for it to be possible to make a charge of favouritism against him, but Lettice's striking likeness to her mother seemed to give her a special claim to his tenderness, while as for the rest of the household, Miss Briggs was as wax in Lettice's hands, for the simple reason that she was a solitary woman, and the girl showed her those little outward signs of affection which make up the sweetness of life; while the servants would do twice as much for her as for any other member of the family, because, "bless her pretty face, she had such a way with her!" Hilary felt indescribably chilled and humiliated as she realised how little regret her own departure would have caused in comparison, and when she spied Mr Rayner's figure crossing the lawn, she shrank back, with uncontrollable repugnance. "You tell him, Norah!

I can't. I am going upstairs."

Meanwhile, Lettice herself had not broken down, nor shown any signs of the emotion of a few days earlier. She was a creature of moods, but though each mood was intense while it lasted, it lasted, as a rule, for a remarkably short s.p.a.ce of time. If she were in tears over a certain subject on Monday, it was ten to one that she had forgotten all about it before Thursday. If she were wild with excitement over a new proposition, she would probably yawn when it was mentioned a second time, and find it difficult to maintain a show of interest. So, in the present case, she had exhausted her distress at the idea of leaving home while weeping upon her father's shoulders, and ever since then the idea of the life in London, in Miss Carr's beautiful house, had been growing more and more attractive. And to be chosen first--before all the others! It was a position which was full of charm to a girl's love of appreciation.

"Come here, dear," said Miss Carr tenderly, when the door had shut behind the other two girls; and when Lettice seated herself on the sofa, she took her hands in hers and gazed fixedly into her face. In truth, it would have been difficult to find an object better worth looking at than "lovely Lettice" at that moment. The hair which rippled over her head was of no pale, colourless flaxen, but of a rich coppery bronze, with half-a-dozen shades of gold in its luxuriant waves; the grey eyes had delicately marked brows and generous lashes, and the red lips drooped in sweetest curves. The old lady's face softened as she gazed, until it looked very sweet and motherly.

"Lettice," she said softly, "my dear little girl, I hope we shall be happy together! I will do all I can for you. Do you think you can be content--that you can care for me a little bit in return?"

"Yes, oh yes--a great deal!" Lettice's heart was beating so quickly that she hardly knew what she was saying, but it came naturally to her to form pretty speeches, and the glance of the lovely eyes added charm to her words.

"I hope so--I hope so! And now I want to tell you the reason why I choose you before either of your sisters. I alluded just now to something which had influenced me, but which I could not mention in public. It is about this that I want to speak." Miss Carr paused for a few minutes, stroking the girl's soft, flexible hands.

"Do you know what is meant by an 'Open Sesame,' my dear?"

"Oh, yes. It is the word which Ali Baba used in the 'Arabian Nights,'

and that made the doors in the rocks fly open before him."

"Yes, that is right. I see you know all about it; but would you understand what I meant, dear, if I said that G.o.d had given _you_ an 'Open Sesame' into other people's hearts and lives?"

Lettice looked up quickly, surprised and awed. "I? No! How have I--?"

"Look in the mirror opposite!" said the old lady gravely, and the girl hung her head in embarra.s.sment.

"No, my dear, there is no need to blush. If you had a talent for music, like Norah, you would not think it necessary to be embarra.s.sed every time it was mentioned, and beauty is a gift from G.o.d, just as much as anything else, and ought to be valued accordingly. It is a great power in the world--perhaps a greater power than anything else, and the people who possess it have much responsibility. You are a beautiful girl, Lettice; you will be a beautiful woman; everyone you meet will be attracted to you, and you will have an 'Open Sesame' into their hearts.

Do you realise what that means? It means that you will have power over other people's lives; that you will be able to influence them for good or evil; that you can succeed where others fail, and carry sunshine wherever you go. But it will also be in your power to cause a great deal of misery. There have been women in the world whose beauty has brought war and suffering upon whole nations, because they loved themselves most, and sacrificed everything for the gratification of vanity. You are young, Lettice, and have no mother to guide you, so perhaps you have never thought of things in this way before. But when I saw you first, I looked in your face and thought, 'I should like to help this girl; to help her to forget herself, and think of others, so that she may do good and not evil, all the days of her life.'"

The ready tears rose to Lettice's eyes and flowed down her cheeks. She was awed and sobered, but the impression was rather pleasurable than otherwise. "A beautiful woman"--"a power over others"--"sunshine"--"success"--the phrases rang in her ear, and the sound was musical. "Of course I'll be good. I want to be good--then everyone will like me," she said to herself, while she kissed and clung to Miss Carr, and whispered loving little words of thanks, which charmed the good lady's heart.

For the next three days all was excitement and bustle. Lettice's belongings had to be gathered together and packed, and though Miss Carr would hear of no new purchases, there were a dozen repairs and alterations which seemed absolutely necessary. Mr Bertrand took his two guests about every morning, so as to leave the girls at liberty, but when afternoon came he drove them out w.i.l.l.y-nilly, and organised one excursion after another with the double intention of amusing his visitors and preventing melancholy regrets. Norah was in the depths of despondency; but her repinings were all for her beloved companion, and not for any disappointment of her own. Now that she had the interest of her music lessons, and the friendship of Rex and Edna, she was unwilling to leave home even for the delights of London and the College of Music.

Poor Hilary, however, was in a far worse case. She had made so sure of being chosen by Miss Carr, had dreamed so many rosy dreams about the life before her, that the disappointment was very bitter. The thought of seeing Lettice driving away in the carriage with Miss Carr and Mr Rayner brought with it a keen stab of pain, and the life at home seemed to stretch before her, still and uneventful, like a stretch of dreary moorland. Her pride forbade her showing her disappointment, since no one had expressed any satisfaction in retaining her company. Stay!

there was one exception. Mr Rayner had said a few simple words of regret which had been as balm to the girl's sore heart. He, at least, was sorry that she was not to be in London, and would have preferred her company even to that of "lovely Lettice" herself.

On the whole, it was almost a relief when the hour for departure arrived. Rex and Edna drove over to see the last of their friend and cheer the stay-at-homes by their presence; but it did not seem as though they could be very successful in their errand of mercy, since Edna cried steadily behind her handkerchief, and Rex poked holes in the garden walks with gloomy persistence.

When Mr Rayner said his good-byes, he left Hilary to the last, and held her hand in his a moment or two longer than was strictly necessary.

"Good-bye, and thank you for all you have done for me. I'll remember your advice. ... We shall meet soon, I hope. You will be coming up to town, and Mr Bertrand has been good enough to ask me to come again next spring."

Next spring! A whole year! As well say the end of the world at once.

Hilary felt such a swelling sense of misery that the only way in which she could refrain from tears was by answering in sharp, matter-of-fact tones, and the consciousness that Mr Rayner was surprised and hurt by her manner was part of the general misery against which it was useless to fight.

As for Lettice, she was fairly dissolved in tears--clinging to every one in turn--and sobbing out despairing farewells. "Oh, Norie, Norie! my heart will break! I shall die; I know I shall. I can never bear it.

Oh, Mouse, don't forget me! Don't let her forget me! Oh, do write-- everyone write! I shall _live_ on the letters from home!"

The last glimpse was of a tear-stained face, and a handkerchief held aloft in such a drenched condition that it refused to open to the breeze, and when the carriage turned the corner Miss Briggs shuffled off to the schoolroom, Hilary ran off to her room upstairs, leaving the three young people in the porch staring at each other with a miserable realisation of loss.

"What shall I do?--what shall I do? She said _her_ heart would be broken, but it is ten times worse for me! The house will seem so dreadfully bare and lonely!"

"Just when we were all so happy! Oh, that hateful Miss Carr! why did she ever come? I thought we were going to have such a h-appy summer,"

sobbed Edna dolefully. "It's always the way! As soon as I make friends, I am bound to lose them."

Rex put his hands into his pockets and began to whistle. "It will do no good to turn yourselves into a couple of fountains! I'll go for a walk, and come back when you've done crying. It's a nuisance, but it might have been worse," he said shortly, and Norah looked at him with a gleam of curiosity lighting up her poor, tear-stained eyes.

"How worse? What do you mean?" she inquired; but Rex did not deign to answer, or to have anything more to say until tea was served a couple of hours later. The tears to which he so much objected were dried by this time, but the conversation was still sorrowfully centred on the dear traveller. "What is she doing now? Poor, poor Lettice! she will cry herself ill. Every mile further from home will make her more wretched!"

cried Norah, and the listeners groaned in sympathy.

If they had seen Miss Lettice at that moment, however, their fears would have been allayed. Miss Carr had changed into a corridor train at Preston, and her companion was charmed with the novel position. She had never before travelled in a corridor, and the large, open carriage, the view, the promenade up and down, were all fascinating to her inexperience. Then to have lunch, and afternoon tea just when the journey was beginning to drag--it was indeed a luxurious way of travelling! Lettice had ceased to cry before the train had reached Kendal; at Lancaster she began to smile; at Crewe she laughed so merrily at one of Miss Carr's sallies, that the people on the next seat turned to look at her with smiles of admiring interest. Everyone was "so nice and kind." It was a pleasure to see them. Clearwater was a dear, sweet place, but, after all, it was only a poky little village. Delightful to get away and see something of the world!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

AFTER THREE YEARS.

Three years had pa.s.sed away since Lettice Bertrand had bidden farewell to her Northern home and accompanied Miss Carr to London, but there was little sign of change in the big drawing-room at Kensington, or in the mistress herself, as she sat reading a magazine by the window one sunny June afternoon. When the purse is well lined it is easy to prevent signs of age so far as furniture and decorations are concerned, while the lapse of three years makes little difference in the appearance of a lady who has long pa.s.sed middle age. Miss Carr looked very contented and comfortable as she lay back against the cushions of her easy chair, so comfortable that she groaned with annoyance as the servant came forward to announce a visitor, and the frown did not diminish when she heard the name.

"Oh, ask Mr Newcome to come up, Baker! I will see him here." The man disappeared, and she threw down the magazine with an exclamation of disgust. "That stolid young man! Now I shall have to listen to improving anecdotes for the next half-hour. Why in the world need he inflict himself upon me?"

The next moment the door opened and the "'stolid' young man" stood before her. So far as appearance went, however, the description was misleading, for Arthur Newcome was tall and handsome, with yellow hair, a good moustache, and strong, well set up figure. He came forward and shook hands with Miss Carr in a quick, nervous fashion, which was so unlike his usual stolid demeanour, that the good lady stared at him in amazement.