Luttrell Of Arran Part 40

"Evening.

"I have re-read your letter, and it seems to me that you might very judiciously remark yourself to Sir Gervais on the inexpediency of any continuance of Kate O'Hara's presence. Her genius, soaring as it does above poor Ada's, makes all emulation impossible. The pilot balloon, that is so soon out of sight, can offer no guidance--don't forget that!

Suppose you said to my brother that there was no longer any necessity to continue the stimulus of emulation--that it might become a rivalry--perhaps worse. Say something--anything of this kind--only send her home again, not forgetting the while that you can do now without injury what, later on, will cost a cruelty.

"I can feel for the pain a teacher may experience in parting with a prize pupil, whose proficiency might one day become a triumph; but remember, my dear Mademoiselle, that poor, dear, simple Ada, to whom genius is denied, is, or ought to be, your first care here, and that the gifted peasant-girl might turn out to have other qualities of a firework besides the brilliancy.

"I will, so fer as in me lies, relieve you from some of the embarra.s.sments that the course I advise might provoke. I will request my brother to desire Mr. M'Kinlay to run down and pay you a few hours'

visit, and you can easily explain the situation to him, and suggest what I here point out as the remedy.

"Of course, it is needless to repeat this letter is strictly and essentially confidential, and not to be imparted to any one.

"I might have counselled you to have taken the advice of Sir Within Wardle, of whose kindness and attention we are most sensible, if you had not told me of the extraordinary 'influence'--it is your own word, Mademoiselle, or I should not even have ventured to use it in such connexion--'the influence' this young girl exercises over Sir Within.

As the observation so completely pa.s.ses my power of comprehension, for I really--and I hope without needless stupidity--cannot understand how a girl of her cla.s.s, bringing up, and age--age, above all--could exert what you designate as 'influence'--I must beg you will be more explicit in your next.

"You are perfectly right in refusing all presents for either of the girls, and I should have thought Sir Within had more tact than to proffer them. I am also very much against you going to Dalradern Castle for Christmas, though Sir Gervais, up to this, does not agree with me.

If this girl should not be sent away before the new year, I think you might advantageously remark to my brother that the visit would be a great interruption to all study, and a serious breach of that home discipline it has been your object to impose. And now, my dear Mademoiselle, accept all I have here said not only in your confidence, but in your friends.h.i.+p, and even where I appear to you nervously alive to small perils, give me credit for having thought and reflected much over them before I inflicted on you this long letter.

"Discourage your prodigy, check her influence, and believe me, very sincerely your friend,

"Georgina Courtenay.

"P.S.--What can Sir W. mean by pa.s.sing his winter in the Welsh mountains, after giving orders to have his villa near Genoa prepared for his reception? Find out this, particularly if there be a secret in it."

Mademoiselle Heinzleman received this letter as she was taking her half-hour's walk in the garden after breakfast--one of the very few recreations she indulged in--while her pupils prepared their books and papers for the day.

Anything like remonstrance was so totally new to her, that she read the letter with a mingled amazement and anger, and, though she read and re-read, in the hope of finding her first impression was an exaggerated one, the truth was that each perusal only deepened the impression, and made the pain more intense.

It was not that her German pride only was wounded, but her dignity as a teacher--just as national an instinct as the pride of birth--and she muttered very mysterious gutturals to herself, as she went, about resigning her trust and retiring. This was, perhaps, too rash a step; at least, it required time to think of. Two hundred a year, and a position surrounded with many advantages! The other alternative was easier to send away Kate. A pity, perhaps, but, after all, as Miss Courtenay said, possibly a mercy. Who could tell? Mr. M'Kinlay might help her by his counsel. She liked him, and thought well of him. Kate, that was making such progress--that could already make out some of Schiller's ballads!

What a pity it was! And to think of her touch on the piano, so firm and yet so delicate! How tenderly she let the notes drop in one of those simple melodies from Spohr she was learning! Ach Gott! and what taste in drawing!

Again she opened the letter, and at the last page muttered to herself: "I don't remember that I said 'influence.' I'm almost sure I said that she interested Sir Within. I know I meant to say that she pleased him; that he was delighted to hear her sing her little Lied, dance her Tarantella, or her wild Irish jig, or listen to some of those strange legends, which she tells with a blended seriousness and drollery that is quite captivating. At all events, if I said 'influence,' I can correct the word, and say that Sir Within comes over to see us two or three times a week, and it is plain enough that it is little Kate's gaiety attracts him. What sorrow to the dear children if they are not to pa.s.s their Christmas at the Castle!"

A light, elastic step on the gravel startled her. It was Kate who was coming; not the Kate we once saw in the old ruins of St. Finbar, but a young lady, with an air calm and collected, with some conscious sense of power, her head high, her look a.s.sured, her step firm even in its lightness.

"Sir Within is in the drawing-room, Mademoiselle," said she, with a slight curtsey, as she stood before her. "He says that this is St.

Gudule's day, and a holiday everywhere, and he hopes you will be kind enough to take us over to the Castle for dinner."

"Nein! No," said she, peremptorily. "'Wir haben keine solche Heilige,'

I mean," said she, correcting the harsh speech. "These saints are not in our calendar. I will speak to him myself. You may stay in the garden for a quarter of an hour. I will send Ada to you."

While the young girl fell back, abashed at the refusal, and even more by the manner with which it was done, the governess smoothed her brow as well as she might to meet the distinguished visitor, but in so doing, as she drew her handkerchief from her pocket, she dropped the letter she had been reading on the walk.

"I wonder why she is so cross with me?" said Kate, as she looked after her; "if there's a secret in it, I must learn it."

While Kate O'Hara sauntered carelessly along her foot struck the letter, and it fell open. She stooped and picked it up, and was at once struck by the peculiar odour of jasmine on the paper, which was a favourite with Miss Courtenay. She turned to the address, "Mademoiselle de Heinzleman"--the de, too, was a courtesy Miss Courtenay affected--and so Kate stood still contemplating the doc.u.ment, and weighing it in her hand, as she muttered, "It does really feel heavy enough to be mischievous." Her training had taught her to respect as inviolable the letter of another; she had over and over marked the deference paid to a seal, and seen even Ada's letters from her playfellows handed to her unbroken, and she knew that to transgress in such a matter ranked in morals with a falsehood. She had no thought, then, of any dereliction, when in placing the fallen pages together within the envelope, her eye caught the words "Kitty O'Hara," and lower down, "child of a poor cottier." The temptation, stimulated by a pa.s.sion fell as strong as curiosity, mastered her, and carrying away the letter into a secluded alley, she read it from end to end. There was much to gratify her vanity in it; there was the admission--and from no favouring witness either--that she had capacity of a high order, and a zeal to master whatever she desired to learn. But far above the pleasure these words afforded was the last paragraph, that which spoke of her "influence"

over Sir Within Wardle. "Could this really be true? Had the little attentions he showed her a deeper significance? Did he really interest himself for her? Was it her lonely, friendless condition touched him?

Was it that the same feeling, so harshly expressed by Miss Courtenay, the revulsion that yet awaited her, that moved him?" There was an ecstasy in the thought that filled her whole heart with joy. Sir Within was very rich--a great personage, too. The Vyners themselves spoke of him always with a certain deference. What a triumph if she had won him over to befriend her!

These thoughts flew quickly through her mind, and as quickly she bethought her of the letter, and what was now to be done with it. She would have liked much to keep it, to have it by her to read and re-read, and study, and weigh. This was of course impossible. To take it to Mademoiselle would be to incur the risk of her suspecting she had read it. In an instant, she determined to lay it back again where she had found it, on the walk, and let chance determine what became of it.

Her resolution was scarcely carried out, when she heard Mademoiselle Heinzleman's voice calling her.

"I have dropped a letter, Kate. I have mislaid it, or it has fallen out of my pocket. Come and help me to look for it," said she, in deep confusion.

"Is this it, Mademoiselle?" said Kitty, artlessly, as she picked it up from the gravel.

"How lucky--how very fortunate!" exclaimed she, eagerly, as she clutched it. "There, you may have your holiday to-day, Kate. Go and tell Ada I shall not ask her to learn those verses; or wait"--she suddenly remembered that Sir Within was still in the drawing-room--"wait here, and I'll tell her myself."

Kate bowed, and smiled her thanks, and, once again alone, sat down to ruminate an her fortune.

CHAPTER XXVI. THE DINNER IN THE SCHOOLROOM

Sir Within could not persuade Mademoiselle to accept his invitation for herself and her pupils to dinner, and was about to take his leave, when Ada suddenly said, "Why not dine with us, Sir Within?"

"Fi! donc, Mademoiselle!" broke in the governess. "How could you think of such a thing? Sir Within Wardle sit down to a schoolroom dinner!"

"But why need it be a schoolroom dinner, Mademoiselle Heinzleman? Why not tell cook that we mean to have company to-day, and make Bickards wait on us, and tell George to wear his gloves, just as if papa were at home?"

"Oh" broke in Sir Within, "I have seen quite enough--more than enough--of all that, dear Ada; but if I could be permitted to join your own little daily dinner of the schoolroom, as you call it, that would really be a treat to me."

"I invite you, then!" said Ada. "Mademoiselle owes me a favour for that wonderful German theme I wrote, and I take this as my reward. We dine at three, Sir Within, and, I warn you, on mutton-broth and mutton something else; but Kate and I will make ourselves as fine as we may, and be as entertaining as possible."

While the two girls scampered off, laughing merrily at the discomfiture of the governess, that respectable lady remained to offer profuse apologies to Sir Within for the liberty, childish though it was, that had been taken with him, and to excuse herself from any imputation of partic.i.p.ating in it.

She little knew, indeed, with what honest sincerity he had accepted the proposal. Of the great game of life, as played by fine people, he had seen it to satiety. He was thoroughly wearied of all the pleasures of the table, as he was of all the captivations which witty conveners and clever talkers can throw over society. Perhaps, from his personal experience, he knew how artificial such displays are--how studied the a propos, how carefully in ambush the impromptu--and that he longed for the hearty, healthful enjoyment of young, fresh, joyous natures, just as one might turn from the oppressive odours of a perfumer's shop to taste with ecstasy the fresh flowers of a garden. It was, therefore, as he expressed it to the governess, a perfect fete to him to a.s.sist at that little dinner, and he was deeply honoured by the invitation.

Mademoiselle was charmed with the old Baronet's politeness. It was ceremonious enough even for Germany, he smiled so blandly and bowed so reverently, and often it was like a memory of the Fatherland just to listen to him; and, indeed, it was rea.s.suring to her to hear from him that he had once been a Minister at the Court of a Herzog, and had acquired his "moden" in this true and legitimate fas.h.i.+on. And thus did they discuss for hours "aesthetic," and idealism, and sympathy, mysterious affinity, impulsive destiny, together with all the realisms which the b.u.t.ter-brod life of Germany can bring together, so that when she arose to dress for dinner, she could not help muttering to herself, as she went, that he was "a deeply skilled in the human heart-and-far acquainted with the mind's operations--but not the less on that account a fresh-with-a-youthful sincerity-endowed man."

The dinner, though not served in the schoolroom, was just as simple as Ada promised, and she laughingly asked Sir Within if he preferred his beer frothed or still, such being the only choice of liquor afforded him.

"Mademoiselle is shocked at the way we treat you," said she, laughing, "but I have told her that your condescension would be ill repaid if we made any attempt to lessen its cost, and it must be a 'rice-pudding day'

in your life."

And how charmingly they talked, these two girls! Ada doing the honours as a hostess, and Kate, as the favoured friend, who aided her to entertain an honoured guest. They told him, too, how the fresh bouquet that decked the table had been made by themselves to mark the sense they had of his presence, and that the coffee had been prepared by their own hands.

"Now, do say, Sir Within, that dining with Royal Highnesses and Supreme Somethings is but a second-rate pleasure compared to an Irish stew in a schoolroom, and a chat round a fire that has been lighted with Bonnycastle's Algebra. Yes, Mademoiselle," Kate said, "I had to make light of simple equations for once! I was thinking of that story of the merchant, who lighted his fire with the King's bond when his Majesty deigned to dine with him. I puzzled my head to remember which of our books lay nearest our heart, and I hesitated long between Ollendorff and Bonnycastle."

"And what decided you?" asked Sir Within.

"What so often decides a doubt--convenience. Bonnycastle had the worst binding, and was easier to burn."

"If you so burn to study algebra, Mademoiselle," said the governess, who had misunderstood the whole conversation, "you must first show yourself more 'eifrig'--how you call zeal?--for your arithmetic."

"You shall have full liberty, when you pay me a visit, to burn all the volumes on such subjects you find," said Sir Within.

"Oh, I'd go through the whole library," cried Kate, eagerly, "if I could only find one such as Garret O'Moore did."