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Title: Borrowed feathers
Author: Ruth Lamb
Release date: February 26, 2026 [eBook #78051]
Language: English
Original publication: London: The Leisure Hour Office, 1886
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BORROWED FEATHERS ***
Transcriber's notes: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
public domain.
[Illustration]
BORROWED FEATHERS.
BY
RUTH LAMB
The Girl's Own Annual Illustrated
VOL. VII. 1886.
"LILY LEAVES" EXTRA SUMMER NUMBER
THE LEISURE HOUR OFFICE
56, PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER.
I.
II.
III.
BORROWED FEATHERS.
—————
CHAPTER I.
"THAT dreadful bell again, and I am almost certain I heard wheels
on the gravel! If it should be one of mamma's grandee friends, and
only Cinderella to answer the door! I have a great mind to let the
individual ring on until he or she is tired. To-morrow I will have all
the front blinds down until evening, then no one will think there is
anybody at home. And," added the speaker, "as, socially speaking, I am
nobody, they will be right."
Annette Clifford was talking to herself. She had two good reasons for
doing it, the first being that she had nobody else to talk to at the
time. The second, that being a bright lively girl possessed of great
intelligence, overflowing spirits, and a gregarious temperament, she
found it difficult to hold her tongue for hours together. During
most of the day she was all but alone in a large house, its only
other inmate being a make-shift servant, who, in addition to general
incapacity, was so deaf as to render any attempt at conversation
laborious.
[Illustration]
Whilst Annette thus communed with herself, she was also moving swiftly
and noiselessly towards a window whence she could command a view of the
person who was demanding admittance at the hall door.
There was a vehicle standing opposite to it, but it was a humble cab
instead of the dreaded carriage. There was luggage on the top, and the
driver was in the act of ringing the door bell a second time.
"Mamma and Laura, come back before their month is over," was Annette's
first thought, but the sight of a lady's face which belonged to neither
of the relatives named sent the girl flying to the entrance with all
possible speed.
Rushing past the cabman, and opening the door of the vehicle, she had
her arms round the neck of the solitary passenger in a moment.
"Aunty," exclaimed the girl. "Is it really you? It seems quite too good
to be true that you are actually here, and with boxes which indicate a
possible stay."
The new arrival smiled at Annette's vehemence, and returned her embrace
in the most affectionate manner.
"My stay depends upon yourself, dear child," she replied. "I know you
are in sole charge at present, and, from a whisper which reached me, I
am inclined to think that your domestic staff is below the average."
"Domestic staff! Why, aunty, I have neither staff nor crutch. Nothing
but a broken reed, on which I cannot lean for a single instant.
Nevertheless, 'I' am here, and I have a couple of fairly capable hands,
the work of which shall be devoted to insuring your comfort, whatever
else may be left undone."
Then turning to the cabman, Annette said, "Please get down the boxes
and bring them inside the hall."
The man obeyed, and then the girl seized some of the smaller matters
which were inside the vehicle, and saying, "Do come in, aunty, and let
me carry the rest," she tripped lightly into the house with her burden,
and soon returned for what remained.
"I suppose you will not want the larger things upstairs just yet, shall
you?" she asked. "This old man is not strong enough to carry them to
your bedroom unassisted, but when the boys come home, the boxes will
be whisked upstairs in a few seconds. Will you rest for a few minutes,
or go straight to your room? It is quite ready, though it would be
difficult for me to say what possessed me to see that it was kept so,
from day to day."
"I shall not want my boxes at present, dear; and I would rather go
straight to my room," replied Mrs. Worsley, the lady whom Annette
called "aunty," though she was no relation to the girl, only her
godmother. "But where is the 'reed' aforesaid? Surely she could
carry up my dressing bag, and the odds and ends with which you are
overloading yourself."
"The 'reed,' 'Sarah Jane,' by names—and she insists on being called by
both—is at this moment engaged in what she calls 'cleaning herself.'
The operation occupies most of each afternoon, and is unsatisfactory as
regards results. She goes upstairs with honest black patches about her
face, garments, and person generally. She comes down with an appearance
of profuse dinginess, which gives you the idea that the black patches
have been diluted by the application of water, and thus diffused over
a larger surface. Sarah Jane objects to soap, aunty—on her face, I
mean—as calculated to injure her complexion. The 'cleaning' process of
which she talks so much is, I think, done in chapters, and ought to be
continued."
The girl laughed merrily as she deposited her load in the bedroom. Then
she brought hot water, undid straps, and paid the welcome guest all the
little attentions which thoughtful love could suggest.
"Thank you, darling," said Mrs. Worsley. "You take care that I shall
not be conscious of any lack of servants." And drawing the girl's
glowing face to her own, she kissed it again and again.
Annette allowed her head to rest on her friend's breast for a few
moments. "It is very sweet to be petted now and then," she said, "but
I must not stay long now; that would be too selfish. Shall we have our
afternoon tea in the drawing-room or the den?"
"The den, by all means, dear; I will be down in a quarter of an hour,"
replied Mrs. Worsley.
After glancing round, to convince herself that she had done all in her
power for the guest's comfort, Annette went downstairs and removed
the pretty tea equipage from the state room to the smaller one, which
the younger members of the family usually occupied. Knowing that no
dependence was to be placed on Sarah Jane, Annette had taken care to
have everything ready for afternoon tea in case of callers, and a very
few minutes sufficed to arrange a tempting little meal for the tired
traveller. Cake and bread and butter were already on the table; to
these Annette added two or three daintily cut sandwiches, a couple of
peaches, and some cream.
The tea-table stood within a large bay window, one side of which was
open, and let in the sweet summer air, laden with the scent of roses. A
few flowers were in tiny vases up and down, just a bloom or two amid a
mass of variegated ivy leaves, like jewels in a setting of plain gold.
The tea equipage was pretty—a harlequin set made up from a collection
of fine old china. The kettle in which the water was boiling over a
spirit lamp was of massive silver, exquisitely chased, and everything
prepared for the visitor's entertainment suggested refinement and
loving thoughtfulness.
Yet the room and its furniture were emphatically shabby. Each article
had been good and handsome in its day, but the day was many a year
back. Even the fine engravings on the walls were in this room because
the frames had become too hopelessly dingy to permit of their remaining
in what Annette called the state apartments.
As Mrs. Worsley entered the den, she was first struck with its general
air of dilapidation, then charmed with the pretty picture presented by
that one little nook which held the tea equipage and Annette.
The girl's face was all aglow with happy anticipation, and she
exclaimed, "Come, aunty, dear, the tea is just in perfection, and
I hope you feel ready for it. Here are some sandwiches, which will
perhaps sustain nature until—I had nearly said dinner-time, but I must
own the truth. Having no cook, we have no formal dinners. The boys get
a substantial lunch in the middle of the day; I have something here,
and at seven we have a sort of mongrel meal, which combines dinner,
tea, and supper."
"I could wish nothing better than what you have prepared for me,
Nettie," said Mrs. Worsley. "Why, my dear, this is a meal for a
princess. How have you arranged and prepared all so quickly?"
"The tea-things were in the drawing-room, and the water had boiled
once, and only required a renewed blaze to make it boil again. I have
to exercise a little diplomacy seeing that I am at the head of domestic
affairs, but with nobody to obey orders."
"Not even the 'reed,' my dear?" asked Mrs. Worsley.
"Not even Sarah Jane, aunty. She hears, sometimes, in spite of her
deafness, but never obeys. And when she finds it inconvenient to hear,
her natural infirmity increases fourfold. There is always a possibility
of callers, in spite of mamma's absence, and I must be prepared to
entertain them thus far—" with a wave of the hand to indicate the tea
equipage. "Well, Sarah Jane and I are agreed on one subject, namely
that she is unpresentable to any caller of higher degree than the
butcher's boy. Should there be a ring at the hall door, Sarah Jane's
tousled head is pushed in at this, and she says,—
"'Please, miss, there's that door again, and I'm not fit to be seen.'
"I assent, for the fact is self-evident, and I answer the door myself,
trying the while to look as if I had been accidentally crossing the
hall, and recognised a friend in the applicant for admission. During
the afternoon, matters are easily managed. The tea-things are in the
drawing-room, the bread and butter cut and covered with a second plate,
so that it may not get dry, and so placed that I can whisk away the
upper plate unperceived. I do it so cleverly, aunty, that the operation
is like a conjuring trick. Then I lie in wait, sometimes indoors, at
others in the garden, the hall door being kept hospitably open. And if
people come, I meet them quite naturally, bring them in for rest and
tea, then stroll with them to the entrance if they are driving, to the
gate itself if they are pedestrians. I had only to bring the tea-things
from the other room to this, you see, aunty."
"And to cut the sandwiches, and gather the peaches, for I presume these
are not generally found on the tea-table. Well, my dear, you see how
thoroughly I appreciate these additions. I never felt more grateful for
a meal, or enjoyed one more than I am doing this. Now tell me how it is
I find you alone?"
"Mamma and Laura are at Scarborough, and the boys do not reach home
until nearly six. They still attend the Grammar School, and they have a
long walk home after the work is done."
"True, dear, but the servants—where are they? Your mamma keeps three
usually, does she not?"
"Two and a half. We have really only two efficient servants, and a girl
who does the most disagreeable items of household work, and waits upon
and is scolded by the other two," replied Annette, promptly.
"Where are the efficients?" asked Mrs. Worsley.
"Bolton, the housemaid-waitress, is at Scarborough with mamma and
Laura, promoted for a full month to the dignity of ladies' maid."
Mrs. Worsley looked perplexed.
"I do not understand," she said. "I thought you told me in a letter
that Mrs. Clifford and your sister were staying at the principal hotel."
"They are. Mamma said that Scarborough lodgings in the only part that
she could possibly elect to stay in were extremely expensive, and that,
by arranging to remain the whole time at the hotel, she would be able
to make favourable terms. That, in fact, the cost of staying there
would not be much greater than in private rooms, to say nothing of the
isolation of lodgings and housekeeping worries which would be avoided."
"Then is Bolton at the hotel too?"
"Of course, aunty. She would be useless anywhere else," said Nettie.
"But Mrs. Clifford and Laura have no maid when at home! It seems so
strange to take one for a month to an expensive hotel, when—"
Mrs. Clifford paused. She was very nearly adding, "when they are always
complaining of poverty and the difficulty of making ends meet." She
might have further said, "and borrowing without troubling much as to
how or when the money will be repaid." But she did not say this. She
only stopped, and Annette took up the subject.
"When there is not much money to spare, aunty, you would say. It
is quite true. There is none to spare, but mamma is rather fond of
appearing 'en grande dame' when she is from home. Here, in spite of
narrow means and perpetual pinching, she is a great lady, you know. Was
she not Miss Heydon, of Heydon Hill, before she became Mrs. Clifford?
Everyone knows that in this neighbourhood, and knows, also, that she
was a great heiress before she married a handsome, penniless captain of
dragoons, who lived nearly long enough to leave his wife and children
in the same condition. Does it sound wicked to say so, aunty? I never
saw my father, you know, after I was three years old, and I have been
more accustomed to hear him blamed than lamented."
"Unfortunately this has been the case, dear," said Mrs. Worsley, "but I
presume you would not say this to any ordinary acquaintance?"
"Certainly not," replied Annette. "You are far better informed of all
these particulars than I am, and therefore I did not think my alluding
to them would matter in the least. Besides, you are a dear, true friend
to us all—best and dearest to me."
"I should like to prove myself one, Nettie," and the speaker laid her
hand caressingly on that of the girl. "Now tell me about Bolton. I
interrupted you."
"Mamma cannot quite forget what she was accustomed to have as a girl,
and she is unwilling to do without it still. When at the seaside, for
instance, she likes to see 'Mrs. and Miss Clifford and maid' in the
visitors' list. I sometimes wish she did not care so much for keeping
up appearances. She pays pretty dearly for that word 'maid,' and it is
but an empty sound after all. But I suppose it would be hard for her to
change," added Annette, meditatively.
"Now you have accounted for the absence of one efficient servant. Where
is the cook?"
"Oh! Williams is gone home for her annual holiday."
"Does your mamma give her the whole month?"
"No, aunty, a fortnight. Then Williams will come back, and, with Sarah
Jane's assistance, do some cleaning down before mamma's return. Mamma
hates an upset house, and thinks it is better to have such work done
when she and Laura are absent, so that everything may be in apple-pie
order when they come. By letting cook take her holidays now, we have
our whole available staff when we settle down in winter quarters.
Bolton has no friends she cares to go and see, so her stay at the
seaside with mamma, as maid, gives her a double holiday."
"There is still the half—the girl, to be accounted for."
"She was not even half efficient, so as mamma would have parted with
her soon in any case, she said she might as well go before she and
Laura went away. Sarah Jane was sure she could manage by herself, and
mamma said she might try."
The girl gave a weary little sigh, though the expression of her
face was humorous enough. In fact, Sarah Jane's eccentricities and
incapacity served one good purpose. They kept Annette alive by giving
her food for fun. During the day, she carefully garnered every
experience, and, despite her daily difficulties, met the boys with a
bright face, and furnished material for laughter with the evening meal.
"When do you expect Williams?" asked Mrs. Worsley.
"On Friday evening, and on that day, the boys' vacation begins. They
hope to enjoy it, for Colonel Cracroft has invited them to spend the
whole time at Fox Howe, his charming country home in the Lake district.
The boys—ours and the two Cracrofts—are to take little walking tours
between Mondays and Saturdays, weather permitting, and their own
inclinations being in harmony with the plan. But anybody who chooses
may stay at home, as it is to be Liberty Hall for the young people. I
wish I were going on tramp for days together, aunty. Girls do it now
as well as boys, and the Cracrofts are so nice. But the colonel is a
widower with no daughters, or else, perhaps, he might have asked me,"
said Annette.
"Where are you going for your summer outing, dear?"
"Nowhere. When the boys are out of the way, I shall not be at home any
longer. The blinds will be down, and 'the family are away' will be
the reply should anyone, undeterred by the desolate appearance of the
premises, be rash enough to call."
At this moment there was a knock at the door, and Annette asked to be
excused for a few minutes, and left the room.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER II.
MRS. WORSLEY was not long alone. Annette soon returned, flushed and
panting with exercise.
"Sarah Jane and I carried up your boxes quite easily," she said. "I had
forgotten when I spoke of the boys that they are playing in a school
cricket match, and as there will be a supper afterwards, they will not
be home till late. Your eyes are wandering round the den, aunty. It is
so desolate. It did not matter when we were less, but it would be nice
to have it made into a really charming room. A few pounds and a good
deal of handiwork and contriving would make it lovely. But there are no
pounds to spare for what would give lasting home comfort."
There was a shade of bitterness in the girl's tone which told Mrs.
Worsley whither her thoughts were tending. If only Mrs. Clifford
had been content to do without a maid at Scarborough, her children
would have reaped the benefit of her abstinence in years of increased
comfort. Fresh prettiness would have taken the place of dingy finery,
and much that was good and handsome might have been utilised by
renovation.
Mrs. Worsley did not answer directly. She showed her sympathy by
drawing Annette to her side, and holding her in an affectionate embrace.
At length she said, "It does seem rather hard for you to be left alone
in this way, darling."
"I was not thinking of that. Indeed, I have now the most delightful
companion," and she lifted her honest face to Mrs. Worsley's for a
kiss. "And I mean to make the most of my privileges, before I assume my
rôle of Cinderella during the cleaning down season. Of course it would
be impossible for you to stay in the midst of a muddle, aunty."
"Quite, Nettie; I shall stay until Saturday, and when the boys' backs
are turned, I must turn mine."
Annette's countenance fell.
"Do you know," she said, "I was just wondering if it would be possible
to keep a little nook, a sort of small house in a large house,
comfortable enough to induce you to stay another week. Cinderella
grieves at the thought of so soon parting with her fairy godmother."
"I am afraid it would be as impossible for me to remain as to exercise
the powers of a fairy godmother, Nettie. Now if I could dress you in
all sorts of braveries with a mere touch of my wand, and send you out
to meet the prince, with the retinue of a princess, I might deserve the
name."
"I should not like you to do it if you could. I hate shams of every
kind, and I have already had too long an experience of them. Some
Cinderellas would ride with a light heart in a carriage that might
at any moment turn into a pumpkin again, but not 'your' Cinderella,
godmother, dear."
The young lips quivered, and Annette, while smiling bravely into Mrs.
Worsley's face, had to turn aside to brush away a rebellious tear.
To lead the girl's thoughts to something pleasanter, the visitor
suggested a stroll through the grounds.
"I thought I had never seen them look so beautiful," she said. "How you
must revel amongst fruit and flowers!"
"Shams again, aunty. Not the fruit and flowers; they are provokingly
real, but only to be revelled in by two senses—those of sight and
smell. The grounds are let out to a gardener and florist, who pays
a rent for them. It is true that fruit and vegetables, to a certain
weekly market value, are bargained for, and our table is fairly
supplied; but each article is sent in by mamma's tenant. We cannot
bestow a bouquet on a friend, or give one permission to cull blossom
or fruit for herself. The addition to the income is very useful, and
supplies more shams, but this state of things is dreadful when one
thinks of what used to be. Stay, though, aunty, I stood out for my own
garden—the plot I called mine when I was a tiny toddles, and mamma had
not the heart to take it from me. In it are some old-fashioned flowers,
a wealth of ivy on the wall, and some lovely yellow gooseberries with a
flavour better than that of half the grapes grown in the houses."
Towards this favourite corner Mrs. Worsley and Annette strolled
arm-in-arm, and the girl's eyes grew brighter as aunty fastened a rose
in her dress, and ate of the yellow champagnes with manifest enjoyment.
Bed-time brought the boys—victorious, noisy, and full of delight,
as they talked of the approaching holidays and the enjoyable visit
to which they were looking forward. They were not, however, wholly
self-absorbed. Mingled with these gleeful anticipations were regrets at
the thought of leaving their favourite sister behind them and alone.
"If we could only take Nettie, we should have nothing to wish for,"
said Lionel.
"Oh, Nettie, why were you not a boy?" cried Fred. "You would have been
such a jolly boy, and the Cracrofts could have asked the three of us."
"I am by no means sure of this. Two such boys must be quite enough to
have at once. Besides, you would not like me half so well if I were a
boy. You squabble almost daily about some nonsense or other; how would
you get friends again if you had each a second brother to quarrel with,
instead of a sister to reconcile your differences? Considering all I
do for you, it is very ungrateful to suggest that I could be improved
by a change of sex," said Nettie, with a little pout of the lip, which
deceived nobody.
"We should never get on without you, as you are, yet for your own
sake, we cannot help wishing to have you with us. Is it not horrid to
think of her being left at home by herself?" said outspoken Lionel,
addressing Mrs. Worsley. "Why did not mamma take Nettie to Scarborough
instead of Bolton? She does all sorts of things both for her and Laura,
when they are at home?"
"Hush, Lionel!" said Nettie.
"It is not for you boys to settle what your mother ought to do," said
Mrs. Worsley, "though I can well imagine that you would like to have
Nettie's enjoyment provided for as well as your own."
"And Laura's," interposed Fred. "It does not seem fair that Laura
should always be first and foremost, and Nettie left out in the cold."
"Mamma knows that I care less about gaieties than Laura does; and
besides, she is the eldest of us all."
"Don't tell fibs, Nettie. At least, do not pretend to be better than
you are. You may not care about parties and balls, and finery, but
never say you do not mind about being left here to see to the turning
out of rooms, the shaking of carpets, and with only the society of
Williams and Sarah Jane, for a fortnight after next Saturday. Do not
tell me that you are not longing for a whiff of the sea breeze, and the
sound of the waves as they tumble in. Heydon Hill is very beautiful,
with its flowers that we must not pluck, and its fruit that we are
forbidden to taste; but just ask us, now, whether we would not rather
go scrambling across the fells or boating on the lakes than have Heydon
Hill all the year round, even with free run at everything? As to Laura,
of course she is the eldest. She likes to claim all the privileges of
her present age. But wait a year or two, and she will be only too glad
for people to think she is the younger."
Lionel nodded sagaciously as he finished his long speech.
Nettie made no answer until Sarah Jane left the room.
Then she remarked, with a little laugh, "I think the 'reed' must be
less deaf than usual. I am almost certain she heard you, Lionel, she
looked so knowing. Now, dear boys, understand that there are many
reasons why I should stay at home. As the maid, Bolton, only counts for
half in the hotel bill, I might do a maid's duties, but I should cost
the same as mamma or Laura. I should have wanted some new gowns had I
accompanied them; my old ones are good enough for home use."
"Laura got new ones; so did mamma," said Fred.
"When I go away for a holiday, I shall have them, too," insisted Nettie.
"When? I should like to know when?" replied Lionel, in a tone of
disgust.
"And you shall know, my dear boy," said Mrs. Worsley. "Nettie's holiday
will begin on Saturday next. When she and I have seen you two safe off
these premises, we shall prepare for our own departure. If there had
been no other reason for her staying here until then, you boys would
have furnished two substantial ones. You are to blame for the fact that
one sister is gone to the seaside, the other is left to take care of
you."
The speaker's face expressed no little amusement as she observed the
effect of her words.
"Aunty, what do you mean?" asked Annette. "It cannot be true that I am
to go somewhere with you. What would mamma say?"
"She has said you may go, dear."
"But when? How did you hear from her? I do not understand," replied
Nettie, more bewildered than ever.
"I had a letter from your mother about a week ago, in which she told me
that she and Laura were at Scarborough, and you here with the boys. She
suggested my joining them on my way home, for I was then in Scotland. I
did spend a single night under the same roof for I wanted to run away
with you, Nettie, and I thought I could negotiate for that purpose
more successfully in person than by letter. After a little talk, it
was arranged that as soon as the boys were off I might have you. The
method of taking possession was left to myself. I might write for you
and enclose this, or do as I chose about communicating your mother's
consent to my plan."
Mrs. Worsley handed a note to Nettie.
And the girl exclaimed, "How kind of you, aunty! To think of you
travelling so far out of your way on my account, first to Scarborough,
then to this place! How can I thank you?"
"Do not try, dear. Read your mother's note," said Mrs. Worsley. "But
please do not put me down as another sham, because I asked you so many
questions when I already knew the answer to some of them. I wanted to
have a peep into your mind. As to Bolton, I inquired after her in all
good faith, for neither your mother nor Laura told me that she was with
them, or how very much you had been left to yourself."
Nettie gave her godmother a girlish hug and a little shower of kisses,
then applied herself to the letter, whilst the boys expressed their
delight at her improved prospects, after the manner of their kind.
They repeatedly embraced their sister, showered thanks on Mrs. Worsley
in rather slangy English, and finally gave relief to their exuberant
spirits by dancing round the den in a sort of wild Indian style, which
was not calculated to render the reading of the letter an easy task to
Nettie.
The purport of it was, however, soon mastered. Mrs. Clifford wrote
warmly of Mrs. Worsley's kindness, and told her daughter that she must
consider herself at liberty to leave Heydon Hill as soon as Williams
returned and the boys were gone. There were loving messages and a
promise of another letter to follow by post, and that was all.
Annette's dreams were pleasant ones for that night, but the waking was
less agreeable. The morning brought the promised letter, with detailed
instructions as to certain matters for the house and the boys, and a
cheque to meet the expenditure involved by their coming journey, and
the domestic supplies alluded to. But for Annette herself there was
nothing, not even a hint as to possible wants. The girl thought she
must be mistaken, that there must be another enclosure; but a further
examination revealed the fact that the envelope contained nothing more.
"How can I go?" she exclaimed. "Mamma knows that I need at least a
couple of new gowns to make me fairly presentable, and it would be
a dreadful scramble to get one in the short time there is. Besides,
Laura's last are unpaid for, and I will not go for more on credit,
though I suppose that is what she must have meant me to do. Mamma must
feel that I cannot go away without even the means to pay my travelling
expenses, or a spare pound in my pocket."
Annette's self-communings had reach this point when Mrs. Worsley
entered the den, where breakfast awaited her coming.
"I thought you were still asleep, aunty," said the girl. "I have been
twice to your door, but everything was so quiet that I stole softly
down again. The boys had to go, you know, to be in time for school, so
I shall have you all to myself. Have you rested well?"
"Delightfully, Nettie, and I am quite ready for breakfast, and work to
follow, for we must begin our preparations for the journey without an
hour's delay."
Annette's face flushed and paled as she turned her mother's letter
round in her fingers in an absent fashion. Then she said, "I am afraid
I can make none. Mamma has written about everyone but me. She must know
that I need more than her permission to go with you."
"My dear, I am sorry that you have had a moment's anxiety on that
score, which I might have prevented by a word. Your mother and I
arranged everything on your behalf when we met at Scarborough. This is
for you, Nettie, to meet any minor expenses, and after breakfast we
will see what sort of a substitute for the fairy godmother I shall make
in providing the more substantial portion of your outfit."
Mrs. Worsley handed Annette an envelope addressed in her mother's
handwriting.
And on opening it, she found, to her utter amazement, a ten-pound note.
"For me, aunty? How has mamma spared it? Did she really send it?" asked
Annette, half ashamed of her question.
"I saw Mrs. Clifford place the note in the envelope, which she
addressed, and then handed to me, for your sole use, my dear, if that
is what you mean. And she sent her love, and hoped you would spend it
judiciously."
The young face brightened again at these words.
"Mamma is very kind; I did not expect this," she said. "Now I can
manage quite nicely. But how disgracefully selfish I am, to keep
you talking about my concerns when you must be famishing for your
breakfast!"
"Not famishing, dear, but with a good healthy appetite to enjoy this
tempting breakfast," replied Mrs. Worsley. "But, Nettie, you have not
asked whither we are bound when we leave Heydon Hill."
"I thought I was going home with you, aunty."
"Home in one sense, dear, but not to the one I call my very own. We are
going to my brother's."
"To Broadlands! You cannot mean it?"
"I am quite in earnest. My brother and his wife have given you a warm
corner in their warm hearts, Nettie. Your last year's visit established
you as first favourite with them and the children, and I believe if I
were to make my appearance alone, I should be sent back to fetch you.
The people at Ferndene are having a large party of young guests, too. I
believe almost the same who were there twelve months ago, so you will
meet a host of old young acquaintances."
Mrs. Worsley was looking straight at Nettie as she spoke, and, lo!
across the girl's face stole a look of indescribable gladness, along
with a rich rosy glow that spread from cheek to brow; a sort of
dancing, happy light, the reflex of some deep-seated joy, brought to
the innocent young heart by her friend's words.
Nettie turned away quickly and shyly, as if afraid that secret of hers
should be read, and she could not have borne a significant look just
then, much less a jesting word. That expression, however, set Mrs.
Worsley thinking and wondering whether, amongst the guests at Ferndene,
Cinderella might have met her prince.
Truly the girl was very young in her ways and simple in her tastes,
as innocent of flirting and coquetry as the most loving mother could
desire her child to be. But time had not been standing still with
Nettie any more than others; she would keep her nineteenth birthday
during the visit to Broadlands.
CHAPTER III.
BREAKFAST was over, and Nettie was standing in Mrs. Worsley's bedroom,
speechless and overwhelmed at the sight which met her view. Spread
around her were the contents of one of those large boxes which she
had assisted Sarah Jane to carry upstairs on the preceding evening.
There were braveries of all kinds suited to a girl like herself, and
fit for wear in such a home as Broadlands. Nothing very costly, but
all beautiful, dainty, and suggestive of refined taste and a sweet,
pure-minded girl wearer.
It was not the first time that Mrs. Worsley had supplied deficiencies
in Nettie's wardrobe, and the measures taken a year before would, she
knew, still be near enough to go by. She shrewdly suspected that her
request for the girl's company would be cheerfully acceded to if no
demand were made on the mother's purse to furnish the needed outfit.
Even that ten-pound note which had called forth such fervent gratitude,
though nominally sent by her mother, had first been given to Mrs.
Clifford by Mrs. Worsley for the purpose.
"She is rich, and has neither chick nor child. All her own relatives
are richer still, so why should not Nettie be the better for having a
wealthy sponsor?" said Mrs. Clifford to her eldest daughter. "Besides,
by having nothing to buy for Nettie, I shall be able the better to
supply your wants."
So Laura, too, had cause to rejoice, for she benefited indirectly by
Mrs. Worsley's gifts, in having money spent upon her wardrobe, some of
which must otherwise have gone for Nettie's.
Standing amidst a wealth of pretty things, Nettie said—"These are all
far too handsome, and you are much too kind, aunty, darling. I cannot
thank you as I ought. I feel that I shall be a grand sham myself
amongst the dear friends at Broadlands—'a daw with borrowed feather.'"
"Not borrowed, Nettie; these things are truly your own. Not shams any
more than you are, my dear, honest-hearted lassie. They are fashioned
by human fingers, not transformed by the touch of a fairy's wand, so
you can wear them without fear that they will resume some uncanny
shape. And they come from one who loves you dearly, Nettie, and who has
too much of this world's gear, and no kindred of her own who need to
share it. I settled about these trifles before I even saw your mother.
I never dreamed that I might find you too proud to accept at once, and
without misgivings, your godmother's little gift."
Nettie burst into tears, and flinging her arms round her friend's neck,
begged to be forgiven.
"Of course it is hateful pride and horrid ingratitude," she cried. "But
I did not see it in that way before; I only felt overwhelmed with your
kindness, and that it was all too much for you to do for my sake. I
have had shamefully ungrateful thoughts about being left here, and have
felt angry at mamma and Laura, and generally rebellious on account of
my lot, instead of just accepting it as from God's hand, and making the
best of it. And all the while, He was ordering everything for my good,
putting it into your heart to be so kind to me, and planning that I
should be invited to the place I longed to visit above every other in
the world. I am ashamed of myself."
"That is right, darling," replied Mrs. Worsley. "Now you are looking
at things in a proper light, and there is nothing to be done but to
continue our preparations."
After this, the hours seemed to fly, so much had to be done, but
further help was obtained to sustain the reed. Williams returned in due
time.
The boys set out for Cumberland in the highest of spirits.
And a couple of hours later, Mrs. Worsley carried off Nettie, and
arrived in the early afternoon at the station nearest to Broadlands.
On the platform were three or four of Mrs. Worsley's nephews and
nieces, wild with delight at seeing her with Nettie in charge. And at
the cry of the first, "Here's Nettie! Hurrah!" the shout was taken
up by the others, who each cheered in a different key, and made the
station resound with their shrill young voices.
There was another person who met the train, and handed the ladies out,
and who, though he did not join in the cheer raised by the juniors,
managed to express his pleasure at sight of the travellers in no less
eloquent language. Truly if ever eyes spoke of gladness, the fine grey
ones of Arthur Boyd told Nettie Clifford that the sight of her bright,
blushing face had vastly increased his present feeling of happiness.
What halcyon days followed! Broadlands itself, with just its regular
inmates, would have been a paradise to Nettie, nestling, as it did,
among glorious woods which sheltered without hiding it, and yet within
walking distance of the sea on one side and a lovely undulating country
on the other three. There were endless drives and plenty of pleasant
neighbours within reach, nearest of all Ferndene, the residence of old
Sir Henry Boyd, Arthur's uncle, with whom Nettie was a prime favourite.
He and his dear old wife were deeply attached to their nephew and heir,
very anxious for him to marry, and yet in great dread lest he should
fall a victim to a mere pretty face.
They had a horror of fastness and flirtation. They believed in one
true, ever-growing holy love which should become stronger and more
self-devoting through each year of wedded life, as theirs had done.
Their nephew would be independent of money considerations; they wanted
him to have a fortune in the wife herself. And so, when twelve months
before, they thought their nephew was learning to care for Nettie
Clifford, they were ready to give their hearty consent if he would only
ask it.
"Just the girl for Arthur," they had said to each other. Well born
and educated, with good health, good looks, a pure mind, and habits
untainted by fashion and folly, yet as bright as a bird; one in whose
society young and old found pleasure. What could they desire better?
Yet the girl's visit had come to an end, and Arthur had not spoken. The
hopes of the old couple had died away, and twelve months had come and
gone in the meanwhile.
Now Nettie was again at Broadlands, and day by day she and Arthur met.
Lookers-on began to whisper, and some that had hoped Sir Henry's heir
would seek a wife in a different direction, lost hope.
At last, a day came when the young man opened his heart to the
relatives who had been as father and mother to him, and asked their
consent and blessing on his union with Nettie Clifford, provided he
could win hers.
They answered him together: "May God bless you as we do, and speed
your wooing! 'A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband.' We could
desire no better fortune for our boy than to win such a wife as Annette
Clifford."
With a light heart, Arthur set out for Broadlands. There was to be a
garden party in the lovely grounds that afternoon, and he had no doubt
that he should find an opportunity of telling Nettie all that was in
his mind. He did not, however, see her immediately on his arrival. The
grounds were extensive, and before Arthur Boyd made one amid the crowd
of guests who kept pouring through the wide gateway, Nettie had been
pounced upon and carried off to take part in a game at tennis.
[Illustration]
The decisive set was just at an end when he caught sight of her,
flushed and smiling, after a hard-won victory. But bright as was the
colour on the girl's cheek, it deepened at his approach, and it was
with a look of frank pleasure that she laid her hand in his and bade
him welcome.
But while Nettie's roses deepened, those on Arthur's face died away,
and he became deadly pale as he glanced at the girl's extended hand,
for there, glittering on her "engaged finger," was a superb diamond, a
beautiful single stone of bluish white, a stone of great value, as the
merest ignoramus could tell. Surely the presence of such a jewel in
such a place could have only one meaning.
Arthur hardly knew what he said. He knew that Nettie looked
half-frightened, and asked if he were ill, and that he had answered
in the negative, and got away out of sight. True, she seemed to look
wistfully after him, and her lips moved as if she were begging him to
stay. Probably she was shocked at what she had done, and wished to
deprecate the grief and resentment his face must have expressed.
All their happy hours, all her sweet girlish ways, all the tell-tale
blushes at his coming, all that he had thought he read in the shy eyes
that were wont to droop when he looked too steadily in their direction,
all these things were as nothing to him any more than others.
Someone—Arthur thought he knew who—had offered, and been promptly
accepted by the portionless girl, who was bound to marry well, whether
true love were included in the bargain or not.
Arthur could not leave Broadlands at once, as he longed to do, for his
aunt and uncle, with other friends, were to come later, and he had
promised to wait for and return with them. So he strolled away to a
lonely part of the grounds, and having passed a miserable hour there,
once more bent towards the entrance gates, where he met Nettie.
Surely the girl must have been miserable too, for she looked pale and
troubled, and there were signs about her usually bright eyes that were
suggestive of recent tears. And lo! as he glanced at her hand which
held up a parasol, he saw that it was unadorned. The ring was gone.
"There must have been some stupid mistake," he thought. "I have taken
for granted what had probably no reality. Only Nettie's own lips shall
convince me that she is other than the pure, true-hearted girl I have
ever judged her to be."
To think was to act. There was no one else very near, so Arthur joined
Nettie, and a new light came to her sweet face, and new roses sprang
into being on her cheeks. He began to tell his tale, strolling the
while into a by-path, and had got as far as the ring.
"I came on purpose to speak to you to-day, Nettie, bringing with me
the blessing and approval of my dear aunt and uncle, who would welcome
you with open arms as my wife," he said. "There was only one person
for me amongst all the gay guests, and when I you, darling, sweet, and
fair, and true, I longed to clasp you to my heart and tell you that I
gave you my whole best love a year ago. And then I looked at something
sparkling on your finger, and saw a ring, and feared that someone had
been beforehand with me, so went away miserable, without a word. What
did the ring mean, dear, for you wear it no longer?"
[Illustration]
Nettie glanced at her hand as Arthur alluded to the ring, and gave a
cry of horror.
"What shall I do?" she cried. "I did not know it was gone. I would not
lose it for anything. Please do not stop me."
Away fled Nettie towards the house, leaving Arthur with his love story
unfinished, and to put what construction he chose upon her precipitate
retreat. To pursue the girl would have been to cause remark. And Arthur
went more slowly in the direction taken by Nettie, his mind full of
half-formed plans for an immediate voyage to the Antipodes.
Mrs. Worsley was sitting on the terrace, and Annette must have passed
her on her way to the house. Arthur stood by her for a little while,
talking of the party, the lovely weather, and the manifest enjoyment
of the guests, but his manner was constrained, and his answers often
irrelevant. He was on the point of turning away, when Annette once more
appeared, tripping lightly towards them, with a radiant face.
"Aunty, dear aunty, please take this back with my best thanks, and
never, if you love me, ask me to wear borrowed feathers again. I have
been in dreadful trouble. I missed it from my finger, or rather Mr.
Boyd did, and I thought I had lost it in the park. Then I remembered I
had been to my room to wash my hands after preparing some fruit for the
children, and I left Mr. Boyd, very unceremoniously, to see if I had
laid it on the dressing table. It was not there, and I was almost in
despair, when where do you think I found it?
"Exactly fitted into the centre hole of the drainer which covers the
sponge bowl. How glad I was! I am not fit to be trusted with valuables,
you see, for, being unaccustomed to them, I forget that I have them.
Thank you a thousand times for the loan of the ring, aunty, and most of
all for freeing me from the awful responsibility of having valuables,
not my own, to take care of. I will never wear borrowed feathers again
as long as I live."
As Nettie spoke, she placed the ring which had caused Arthur's misery
in Mrs. Worsley's hand, and then gave a sweet, shy, upward glance at
the young man which seemed to say that the story he had begun to tell
would now find an attentive listener.
Mrs. Worsley, with a laughing face, told Arthur how she had insisted on
Nettie's wearing one of her rings, because the girl possessed scarcely
any ornaments of her own.
"It will be hers some day," she added, "but I must take care of it
until she is fit to be trusted with the custody of valuables."
Arthur mentally dissented from Mrs. Worsley's statement that Nettie
possessed few ornaments. He thought that truth, modesty, unselfishness,
a pure, tender nature, and a warm, faithful heart were better
adornments and possessions than all the jewels in the world. But he did
not trouble to tell her so, for some friends were approaching, whom
Mrs. Worsley joined. And Arthur told his thoughts to Nettie instead,
and completed the story begun a little while before.
He must have had faith, too, in Nettie's powers to take care of a
ring, for when the young people met the party from Ferndene, there
glittered on the girl's engaged finger a most beautiful specimen of
the jeweller's art, the diamonds in which were worthy to follow the
borrowed gem.
Thus Arthur Boyd won Nettie for a wife, and the dear old couple at
Ferndene rejoiced that their adopted son would soon give them the
daughter they coveted above all others. And there was rejoicing at
Scarborough, and Mrs. Clifford wrote that her darling Nettie had more
than fulfilled her most cherished hopes by making so wise a choice.
That Mrs. Worsley played the true mother's part to her goddaughter
need hardly be told, or that it was on her breast that the girl shed
the glad tears which came from a heart almost too full of happiness as
she said, "How can I be thankful enough for God's great goodness to
me? How be ashamed enough of my old want of faith, my repinings, and
discontent?"
Mrs. Arthur Boyd has no lack of jewels now, and has long since been
accustomed to the charge of articles of value of her very own. But
if she had never possessed any, her friends think that those better
ornaments which her husband valued most would have been conspicuous in
her life and actions. Also that the one lesson would have sufficed to
prevent her from ever making a second appearance in "borrowed feathers."
[Illustration]
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