Wee Wifie Part 18

Fern felt a little confused at the sudden pause. She wished in a vague sort of way that he would finish his sentence and tell her what he meant; the silence was becoming awkward.

Fern worked on desperately, but her cheeks were burning. Both of them felt relieved when they heard footsteps approaching--Erle especially, for some dim instinct told him that in another minute he should have betrayed himself.

Both of them rose simultaneously as the door opened; and at the same moment Fluff, hugging herself among the sofa cushions, whispered into the kitten's ear:

"They don't know that I heard every word. One of these days I shall go and see grandpapa, and ask him why we may not come and live with him as well as Percy. Erle would like it, I know; he is so fond of Fern."

Erle certainly looked a little amused as his friend entered the room accompanied by a tall, dark girl, very plainly dressed. But his expression changed as he noticed Percy's moody looks, and the air of extreme haughtiness observable in the manner of his companion.

Miss Davenport was evidently very much annoyed; she shook hands with Erle, without deigning to look at him, and walked straight to the fire-place.

Fern followed her. "I am so glad you have come home so early, Crystal; Fluff and I have waited tea for you, but we hardly expected you yet."

"I am sorry you waited for me," returned the girl, who called herself Crystal Davenport, in a constrained voice; "Mrs. Norton gave me some tea, because she said I must be tired playing with the children."

"Come, we must be going, Erle," interrupted Percy, sharply, "or we shall be late for dinner. Good-bye, Fern; tell my mother I am sorry to miss her. Good-evening, Miss Davenport;" but he hesitated, as though he dared not venture to offer his hand.

"Good-night, Mr. Trafford," she returned, indifferently; but she did not turn her long neck as she spoke. And Erle contented himself with a bow.

"What is it, Crystal, dear?" asked Fern, anxiously, as the two young men left the room; but Crystal only lifted her eyebrows and glanced at Fluff, whose curly head was distinctly visible; so Fern said cheerfully, "Very well, we have our tea, and then it will be Fluff's bed-time;" and then without another word busied herself with her simple preparations.

But it was not a festive meal. In spite of all her cheery efforts Crystal sat quite silent, with a cloud on her handsome face, and Fluff had turned sulky at the mention of her bed-time. So Fern fell to thinking of Erle's look as he bade her good-night--how kind he had been to her that evening. Yes, she was glad they were friends, and that he cared to hear about their troubles. He was so unselfish, so different to other young men--Fern did not know a single young man except Erle, so her knowledge was not very reliable; and then, with an odd transition of thought, she wondered who Miss Selby could be, and why Percy called her la Belle Evelyn, and looked at Erle so mischievously.

But presently, when Fluff had gone off grumbling with her kitten, and all the pretty tea-things had been washed and put away in the big corner cupboard, and the kettle was silent, and only a cricket chirped on the hearth, Fern sat down beside Crystal, and put her arm affectionately round her. "Now, you can tell me what has been troubling you, darling," she said, in a coaxing voice.

It seemed a pity that there was no one to see the two faces so close together; an artist would have sketched them as Night and Morning.

Fern's soft English fairness made a splendid foil to Crystal's olive complexion and dark southern coloring. The girl was superbly handsome, in spite of the bitter lines round the mouth and the hard, defiant curve of the lips. As Fern spoke her dark eyes flashed angrily.

"He has been speaking to me again," she said, in an agitated voice.

"He has dared to follow me and persecute me; and he calls it love--love!" with immeasurable contempt in her tone; "and when I tell him that it is ungenerous and wrong, he complains that I have robbed him of all peace. Fern, I know he is your brother, and that I ought not to speak against him; but how am I to help hating him?"

"Oh, no!" with a shudder, for Fern's gentle nature was not capable of Crystal's pa.s.sion; "you must not hate poor Percy--he can not help loving you."

"A poor sort of love," returned Crystal, scornfully; "a love that partakes too much of the owner's selfishness to be to my taste. Fern, how can he be your mother's son? he has not a grain of her n.o.ble, frank nature, and from all accounts he does not take after your father."

"But he is very clever, Crystal, and Mr. Erle says he is really kind-hearted," returned Fern, in a troubled tone; "people admire and like him, and there are many and many girls, Mr. Erle says, would be ready to listen to him. He is very handsome, even you must allow that, and it is not the poor boy's fault if he has lost his heart to you."

Crystal smiled at this sisterly defense, but the next moment she said, tenderly:

"You are such a little angel of goodness yourself, Fern, that you never think people are to blame--you would always excuse them if you could; you have so little knowledge of the world, and have led such a recluse life that you hardly know how rigid society really is; but I should have thought that even you would have thought it wrong for your brother to come here so often in your mother's absence and bring his friend with him; it is taking advantage of two defenseless girls to intrude himself and Mr. Erle on us in this way."

"But Percy never knows when mother is out," replied Fern, in a puzzled tone.

Crystal was silent; she held a different opinion, but after all she need not put these ideas into Fern's innocent mind. It was her own conviction that Percy in some way was always aware of his mother's absence. At first he had come alone, and now he always brought Erle with him, and she wanted to say a word that might put Fern on her guard; but at the present moment she was too full of her own grievance.

"You know, Fern," she continued, in a very grave voice, "if this goes on and your brother refuses to hear reason, I shall be obliged to seek another home, where I shall be free from his unmanly persecution; yes"--as Fern uttered an incredulous exclamation--"though I love you all so dearly, and have grown to look upon this as a home, I shall be forced to go a second time into the world."

"But Percy must hear reason," returned Fern, tearfully. "I will ask mother to talk to him, and I know Mr. Erle has given him hints. We can not part with you, Crystal. I have never had a companion of my own age before, and mother is so often out."

"Well, well," observed Crystal, soothingly, "I have told him the truth to-night, and perhaps he will believe it; but there! we will not talk about your brother any more. And so he left you alone with Mr. Erle, Fern?"

"Oh, yes, but we were not long alone," returned the girl, innocently.

"You and Mr. Erle seem good friends."

"Yes, I suppose so," rather shyly; "he was very kind to me this evening."

"Did he tell you anything about the beautiful Miss Selby who is to dine with her aunt, Lady Maltravers, at Belgrave House to-night? a cousin of Mr. Erle's, Lady Denison, is to act hostess."

"No," returned Fern, rather faintly, but she was conscious of a sharp pain as Crystal spoke.

"And yet he meets her very often. Ah, well, young men do not tell all their little secrets. Of course Mr. Erle's life is very different from ours; we are working bees, Fern, and he is a b.u.t.terfly of fashion.

When he comes here he makes himself very bright and pleasant, but we know nothing of his real life."

"No, of course not." But a sort of chill pa.s.sed over Fern as Crystal spoke. Why did she say these sort of things so often to her? did she think it wrong for her and Mr. Erle to be friends? was she warning her, and against what? Well, it was true she knew nothing of his life excepting what he chose to tell her. He had never mentioned this Miss Selby, though, according to Percy's account, he met her very often.

Few ladies dined at Belgrave House, but to-night she was to be there.

For the first time Fern's gentle nature felt jarred and out of tune.

The bright little fire had burned hollow; there was a faint clinging mist from the fog outside; the cricket had ceased to chirp. Fern glanced round her disconsolately; how poor and shabby it must look to him, she thought, after the rooms at Belgrave House.

But the next moment she started up in a conscience-stricken way.

"There is mother's step, Crystal, and we have neglected the fire; poor mother, and she will be so tired and cold." And Fern drove back her rebellious thoughts, bravely, and seized the bellows and manipulated the fire, while Crystal drew up the old easy-chair, and placed a footstool. Mrs. Trafford smiled as she saw these preparations for her comfort; her pale face relaxed from its gravity as Fern waited upon her, taking off her bonnet, and smoothing the beautiful gray hair with eager loving fingers.

"Thank you, dearest," she said, drawing down the girl's face to hers; "and now tell me what you have both been doing."

"Percy and Mr. Erle have been here," was Fern's answer, as she took her place at her mother's feet; "and Percy left his love for you, and was so sorry to miss you."

Mrs. Trafford made no comment on this piece of information, but she glanced quickly at Crystal; perhaps something in the girl's face warned her, for she at once changed the subject, to her daughter's surprise, and, without asking any questions, began telling them about the invalid.

But after they had chatted for a few minutes, Crystal rose, and, saying that she was very tired, bade them both good-night.

Mrs. Trafford looked after the girl anxiously, and then her glance fell on her daughter. Fern was looking into the fire, dreamily, and there was a sort of wistfulness in her eyes; when her mother touched her gently she started.

"My little sunbeam does not look quite so bright tonight," she said, tenderly. "I am afraid you have been tiring yourself, Fern, trying to finish Florence's frock."

"Oh, no," returned the girl, quickly, and then a frank blush came to her face as she met her mother's clear searching look. "Well, I will confess, as Fluff says"--laughing a little unsteadily; "I am afraid I was just a little bit discontented."

"You discontented, my pet?" in an incredulous voice, for Fern's sweet unselfishness and bright content made the sunshine of their humble home. There seemed no chord of fretfulness in the girl's nature; her pure health and buoyant spirits found no cause for complaint. Nea lived her youth again in her child, and she often thanked Heaven even in her desolate moments for this one blessing that had never disappointed her.

Fern pressed a little closer to her mother, and wrapped her arms round her. "But it is true, mother, I had quite a naughty fit. Crystal talked about Percy and Mr. Erle; it was not so much what she said as what she implied that troubled me, but she seemed to think that our life was so different to theirs--that we were poor people, and that they had nothing in common with us, and that it was better not to be friends. Somehow, it made me feel all at once how shabby and commonplace one's life really was."

Mrs. Trafford sighed, but there was no reproach in her voice. "Yes, dear; I understand, it is quite natural, and I should have felt the same at your age. I wish, for your sake, my darling, that things were different; but Crystal is very wise and right in trying to make you understand the barrier between Erle Huntingdon and us."

"But, mother," with a burning face, "we are gentlefolk; surely it does not matter so much that we are poor."

"The world would not indorse that, Fern," replied her mother, gently; "it is apt to turn a cold shoulder to genteel poverty. The hardest lot in life, in my opinion, is the life of a poor gentlewoman."

"But Mr. Erle does not look down upon us," persisted Fern, "or he would not come so often. He always says that no room in Belgrave House is so home-like as this room, and that he is happier here than in the houses of his grand friends."