That Stick Part 19

'Oh yes, mother and Ida have been tearing their hair ever since, but it is all rot! The governor's very welcome to the poor little beggar!'

'Oh, that's right! That's very n.o.ble of you, Herbert,' said both the girls in a breath.

'Well, you see, old Frank is good to live these thirty or forty years yet, and what was the good of having to wait? Better have done with it at once, I say, and he has written me a stunning jolly letter.'

'Oh, I was sure he would!' cried Constance.

'I'm to go on just the same, and he won't cut off my allowance,' pursued Herbert.

'It is just as my papa says,' put in Rose, 'he is always the gentleman.

And you'll be in the army still?'

'When I've got through my exams; but they are no joke, Miss Rose, I can tell you. It is Conny there that likes to sap. What have you been doing this time, little one?'

'I don't know yet, but Miss Astley thinks I have done well and shall get into the upper form,' said Constance shyly. 'I got on with my German while I was abroad, trying to teach Uncle Frank.'

At which Herbert laughed heartily, and demanded what sort of scholar he made.

'Not very good,' owned Constance; 'he did forget so from day to day, and he asked so many questions, and was always wanting to have things explained. But it made me know them better, and Mrs. Bury had such nice books, and she helped me. If you want to take up French and German, Bertie--

He shrugged his shoulders.

'Don't spoil the pa.s.sing hour, child. I should think you would be glad enough to get away from it all.'

'I do want to get on,' said Constance. 'I must, you know, more than ever now.'

'Oh, you mean that mad fancy of going and being a teacher?'

'It is not a bit mad, Herbert. Rose does not think it is, and I want you to stand by me if mamma and Ida make objections.'

'Girls are always in such a hurry,' grumbled Herbert. 'You need not make a stir about it yet. You won't be able to begin for ever so long.'

Rose agreed with him that it would be much wiser not to broach the subject till Constance was old enough to begin the preparation, though, with the impatience of youth to express its designs and give them form, she did not like the delay.

'I tell you what, Con,' finally said Herbert, 'if you set mother and Ida worrying before their time, I shall vote it all rot, and not say a word to help you.'

Which disposed of the subject for the time, and left them to discuss happily Constance's travels and Herbert's new tutor and companions till their arrival at Westhaven, where Constance's welcome was quite a secondary thing to Herbert's, as she well knew it would be, nor felt it as a grievance, though she was somewhat amazed at seeing him fervently embraced, and absolutely cried over, with 'Oh, my poor injured boy!'

Herbert did not like it at all, and disengaging himself rapidly, growled out his favourite expletive of 'Rot! Have done with that!'

He was greatly admired for his utter impatience of commiseration, but there was no doubt that the disappointment was far greater to his mother and Ida than to himself. He cared little for what did not make any actual difference to his present life, whereas to them the glory and honour of his heirship and the future hopes were everything--and Constance's manifest delight in the joy of her uncle and aunt, and her girlish interest in the baby, were to their eyes unfeeling folly, if not absolute unkindness to her brother.

'Dear little baby, indeed!' said Ida scornfully. 'Nasty little wretch, I say. One good thing is, up in that cold place all this time he's sure not to live.'

Herbert whistled. 'That's coming it rather strong.' And Constance, with tears starting to her eyes, said, 'For shame, Ida, how can you be so wicked! Think of Uncle Frank and Aunt Mary!'

'I believe you care for them more than for your own flesh and blood!'

exclaimed her mother.

'Well, and haven't they done a sight deal more for her?' said Herbert.

'You turning on me too, you ungrateful boy!' cried Mrs. Morton.

Herbert laughed.

'If it comes to grat.i.tude,' he said, and looked significantly at the decorations.

'And what is it but the due to his brother's widow?' said Mrs. Morton.

'Just a pittance, and you may depend that will be cut down on some pretext now!'

'I should think so, if they heard Ida's tongue!' said Herbert.

'And Constance there is spitefulness enough to go and tell them--favourite as she is!' said Ida.

'I should think not!' said Constance indignantly. 'As if I would do such a mean thing!'

'Come, come, Ida,' said her mother, 'your sister knows better than that.

It's not the way when she is only just come home, so grown too and improved, "quite the lady."'

Mrs. Morton had a mother's heart for Constance, though only in the third degree, and was really gratified to see her progress. She had turned up her pretty brown hair, and the last year had made her much less of a child in appearance; her features were of delicate mould, she had dark eyes, and a sweet mouth, with a rose-blush complexion, and was pleasing to look on, though, in her mother's eyes, no rival to the thin, rather sharply-defined features, bright eyes, and pink-and-white complexion that made Ida the belle of a certain set at Westhaven. The party were more amicable over the dinner-table--for dinner it was called, as an a.s.sertion of gentility.

'Are you allowed to dine late,' asked Ida patronisingly of her sister, 'when you are not at school?

'Lady Adela dines early,' said Constance.

'Oh, for your sake, I suppose?'

'Always, I believe,' said Constance.

'Yes, always,' said Herbert. 'Fine people needn't ask what's genteel, you see, Ida.'

That was almost the only breeze, and after dinner Herbert rushed out for a smell of sea, interspersed with pipe, and to 'look up the inevitable old Jack.'

Constance was then subjected to a cross-examination on all the circ.u.mstances of the detention at Ratzes, and all she had heard or ought to have heard about the arrival of the unwelcome little Michael, while her mother and sister drew their own inferences.

'Really,' said Ida at last, 'it is just like a thing in a book.'

Constance was surprised.

'Because it was such a happy surprise for them,' she added hastily.

'No, nonsense, child, but it is just what they always do when they want a supposit.i.tious heir.'

'Ida, how can you say such things?'

'But it is, Conny! There was the wicked Sir Ronald Macronald. He took his wife away to Belgrade, right in the Ukraine mountains, and it--'

'Belgrade is in Hungary, and the Cossacks live in the Ukraine in Russia,'

suggested Constance.