Time passes rapidly to the young and light-hearted, and winter fogs had given place to blue skies and flowering trees before—as Jill expressed it—one could say “ Robinson.”
Miles was finishing his course of study, and had so himself above his fellows that there was little doubt that a good opening would be offered to him ere long. Dr Trevor was very proud of his clever son, but the mother’s face took on a wistful expression as she looked round the table at her assembled family, and realised that the time was close at hand for the stirring up of the nest. She was unusually indulgent during those spring months, as if she could not find it in her heart to deny any possible pleasure.
“We shall not long be together. Miles will be going away, and after then—who knows?” she told herself sadly. “Once children begin to grow up and go out into the world, one can never be sure of meeting again as a complete family circle. Let them be happy while they may!”
So those spring months saw an unusual succession of gaieties in the doctor’s shabby house, in the shape of merry, informal , which went far to cement newly-made friendships. Agatha and Christabel Rendell returned home, only to be succeeded by the remaining three sisters of the family, who proved quite as interesting in their various ways. Dear good Maud was as sweet and as her own fat baby, while Elsie was an intense young person, quite different from anyone else whom Betty and Cynthia had ever encountered. Her hair was parted in the middle and brushed over her ears; she wore unfashionable garments, and—thrilling item of interest!—was engaged to be married to a sub-editor of a magazine, who was reported to be even more intense than herself. Elsie the ordinary sign of ; a ring, she explained to the astonished girls, was a badge of servitude to which no self-respecting woman should submit, and she wore in its place a gold locket, bearing strange cabalistic signs, the meaning of which the beholders vainly to discover.
With regard to the future, Elsie and her editor announced their intention of living “the higher life”—a high-sounding phrase which was not a little impressive, until one heard the details thereof, which scarcely appealed to the ordinary imagination. They were going to on a diet of bread and nuts, a regime which did away at one fell with the need of such superfluities as cook and kitchen; they would have no curtains nor draperies, as woollens harbour microbes; no wall-papers, as papers poisons; no , since it was a sin to waste the precious hours in dusting what was of no use. What they were going to have, soon became the question in the minds of the anxious hearers, while “Poor old Elsie!” cried Nan Vanburgh, laughing. “I give her a month before I am taken for a day’s hard shopping at Maple’s! She rides her hobbies so violently that they of sheer before she has time to put them into practice!”
In the matter of conversation, Elsie swayed between the high-flown and the natural, sometimes chatting away in ordinary commonplace fashion, at other times confounding her hearers by and mysterious .
“Have you ever felt the intense meaning in colour?” she demanded one day, at the end of a silence during which she had been gazing into the heart of the fire. Betty stared aghast, but Cynthia, with finer humour, smiled , and replied—
“Of blues—yes! I feel it horribly at times,” whereupon, being a Rendell, Elsie from her high horse, and with .
After Elsie appeared Lilias—a vision of beauty and , but far too grown-up and superior to care for the society of chits in the schoolroom. Her visit was a round of gaiety, for she did not care for quiet home evenings, but she never seemed really satisfied nor pleased, and there was always a “but” or an “if” at the end of her description of the last day’s doings.
Nan looked at her with troubled eyes, and her “Poor Lilias!” had a very different ring from the “Poor old Elsie!” which was after all only a at pity.
Cynthia’s prophecy had been fulfilled, for at the end of January Betty had received from America a copy of the New York , with the significant letter “R” printed on a corner of the wrapper. Her friend of the fog had evidently himself of her full name and address before leaving town, and now wished her to know that he had safely reached the scene of his future labours. How carefully that wrapper was preserved! How it was searched for further messages, long after it had been definitely concluded that no such message could exist! Betty considered the handwriting the most and that she had ever ; and Cynthia, without going so far, was still prepared to read in it all the desired meanings.
“The letters are joined together; that means sequence of thought and mental ability. The line rises at the end; that shows proper ambition. There are power and success written in every stroke!”
“Dear Cynthia!” sighed Betty . “How clever you are! You are always right.”
As for Jack, he was working, absolutely working hard, instead of playing with his tasks. The Johnson was to take a second place in the class as a permanency nowadays, and hopes of the scholarship grew apace in the heart. Jack did not appreciate home references to his newly-developed industry, and, so strange and unaccountable a thing is schoolboy nature, that when Betty injudiciously remarked on his “goodness,” he “slacked it” of intent for a whole week, just to have the satisfaction of telling her of his descent in the class. Not for all the riches in the world would he have explained the real reason for the change, but those three words, “the Captain’s orders!” rang in his ears like a battle-cry, and the voice within gave him no peace if he did less than his best. Poor General Digby! It seemed hard that he should be denied the satisfaction of knowing what good he had been the means of working; but, though Jack’s lips were sealed on this poi............