Chapter V: The Beauty of the Family

MISS WEBB stayed with the Vandeleurs for a fortnight, and before she left Cornwall she had a little business to arrange at Heyward's College. She proposed to Honora that they should walk over by the moor, and return by the five-o'clock train.

"Yes; that will be very pleasant," said Honora. "The moon is lovely now; the heath is so bright. I collected five different varieties the last time I crossed it."

"May I go with you?" said Daisy, suddenly, without looking up from her breakfast.

"Of course, dear. Will you come, Violet?"

"No; I hate walking," said Violet, sulkily.

So after breakfast, Honora established Marian in her favourite place close to the house, and facing the sea. Here she would sit for hours, knitting or working, reading her Bible, and gazing at the wide ocean which she loved so well. This Marian called "taking exercise," and was perfectly contented and cheerful, though she had never been out through the big gate since she came to the castle.

When the walking-party set out, Annie was busy in the kitchen. Presently she came out.

"Violet! Oh, I thought she was with you, Marian! I suppose she went with the rest, after all."

"No, she did not. I have not seen her."

"She must be in her room, then. I must go to the village for one or two things Stasy and I want, and she may as well come with me. She 'is' so sulky, poor thing, about the bathing. We never go but she wants to go with us."

"If you are going out, please give me Honora's little bell, and tell Stasy to come if I ring."

Annie soon came out again with her hat on, and the bell—another relic of Lady Barker—in her hand.

"I can't see Violet anywhere," she said, "and I cannot wait for her; so good-bye for the present."

And Marian turned back to her book; she was a woman of one book, I may truly say. For though she liked to be read to, and enjoyed any reading, she used her own dim sight for only one book.

After a while, she laid aside her book and took up her knitting. She worked away at soft woollen stockings for her sisters in winter, and was busy turning the heel of the one in hand when she heard steps. Not Annie returning, for they were heavy and slow. A man's steps, and they stopped at the gate. Marian turned to look, but could only see that there was a man at the gate with something in his arms.

He leaned against the gate, and called out hoarsely—

"Don't be frightened, Miss Vandeleur, it's Dr. Egerton. Call some one to open the gate."

Marian seized the little bell, and rang and rang again. Stasy came running out.

"Missy dear, what's the matter? Is that fellow frightening you?"

"It's Dr. Egerton, and I fear he is hurt or ill. Run, Stasy; open the gate."

Stasy obeyed. The gate creaked in its usual way, and Dr. Egerton said hastily—

"I don't want to frighten Miss Vandeleur, but you must help me; I'm not able to go further. It is Miss Violet. Can we pass behind Miss Vandeleur without her knowledge?"

"What has happened to the child? Is she dead?"

"Hush! Tell Miss Vandeleur—Ah, too late!" And he went forward to meet Marian, who was coming feebly towards them leaning on her stick.

He laid Violet on the ground and went forward.

"It is Violet. What has hurt her?"

"She has fainted. I don't think she is injured in any way. Call your sisters."

"They are all out. Can you and Stasy carry her in?"

"Oh yes! Let me put you back in your chair again, and—"

"No, I must go in. Bring her to my room, for the turret stairs are narrow and steep."

Egerton and Stasy lifted the unconscious girl, and carried her in. Even for two, Violet was no light weight, for she was very tall and strongly built. How the doctor had carried her from the place where he found her, Stasy afterwards declared she did not know. Marian reached her room before they did, and the bed was ready.

"Lay her down on the bed," said Marian.

"Her hair is all wringing wet, missy. She's been bathing, poor lamb."

"Oh no, she must have fallen into the water. But never mind her hair. No, don't lay her on the floor, but on the bed."

They obeyed, and Egerton staggered over to a chair and sat down. Marian sent Stasy for water, nothing stronger being at hand. But he recovered himself almost immediately.

"Let me see this foolish child," he said. "I'm afraid she has been bathing, for she had her bathing dress and towels with her. I left the bundle on the road, for it was wet and heavy. Ah, she's better already. Stasy, get a blanket hot, and some towels, and get her undressed and wrapped in the hot blanket, and dry her hair. I will go to the dispensary and get a draught made up for her. Well, young lady, I dare say you will remember my advice for the future. There is no use in being reproving, for she cannot take it in just yet. So I may as well go."

He came back in about half-an-hour with a little bottle, the contents of which he administered to Violet as she lay wrapped up in her blanket. She said she was getting warm.

"Your sister has been very much frightened about you. If I were she, I should be very angry with you."

She half smiled, and looked round the room, saying—

"Where is she?"

"She went away."

"Is she angry? I'm not a child."

"No, only a very foolish girl. Oh, here you are, Miss Annie. Do not disturb her now. Shut your eyes, Miss Violet, and sleep soundly until I come to see after you in the evening. Where is Miss Vandeleur?"

He opened the door that led into the parlour, and then he saw Marian lying on the floor.

"Don't frighten them. I did not exactly fall; I had to lie down. Do not try to lift me; tell them not. I will lie here for a while, and then go to the sofa."

He obeyed her, but got a pillow and a shawl to make her comfortable.

"Here's a telegraph boy coming after me," he said. "They are never done having slight accidents in the mines." He went to the door, and came back, saying, "It's for you, Miss Vandeleur, not for me."

"For me? Oh, who—Oh, Annie, be quick—read it! Has anything happened to Honora?"

But at that suggestion, Dr. Egerton tore the yellow cover, and flung it away.

"Francis Vandeleur to Marian. Meet me at S. Canice Station at five this
evening."

He read it aloud, and then looked up blankly.

"Frances!" cried Annie. "And Honora not here! And she'll be in the same train. Oh, I wish Honora knew!"

"What can we do?" Marian said faintly. "I do want Honourbright so much."

"Well, I am going to Heyward on my bike, and I will take the telegram to Miss Honora if you like. I shall come in the evening to see my patient. She will most likely sleep till then."

And he left the house, wondering who Francis Vandeleur might be. Both the sisters had looked scared, he thought, and both immediately wanted Honora.

Now, had either of the sisters seen the telegram, they might have remarked that the name was written Francis, not Frances. But it would not have puzzled them, because they knew it could only be from their sister Frances. But Dr. Egerton did not know that, and some feeling was excited in him which he did not exactly enjoy. He hastened to mount his bicycle, and sped along the railway path at his best speed.

Leaving his machine at the station, he rushed up the hill to the College. On the broad steps of the porch sat a picnic of three, happily discussing a frugal luncheon. Miss Webb looked up at him.

"Why, Dr. Egerton, you look very white and tired. What brings you here? Will you have a cup of coffee?"

"Gladly, thank you. I came to tell Miss Honora of an adventure, and to bring her this."

Honora took the paper, spelt it out, and then sat gazing at the others. Miss Webb laughed.

"What is it, Honourbright? What's your news?"

"It is a blessing there are no more of us," was Honora's reply. "It is from my sister Frances. She is coming to S. Canice."

"Your 'sister?'" cried Egerton. "I thought it was from a brother."

"I see they've dotted the 'e.' But we are all sisters. We just fall short of Wordsworth's silly little maid, for we are six, and Frances is the sixth. No, Daisy is the sixth, Frances is the third. She has been in Dublin all these years. Well, I wonder—I must get home."

"Indeed," said Egerton, "you are very much wanted there, I must tell you. That silly girl—forgive me—Miss Violet, she—"

He paused, for Daisy, who was sitting opposite him, suddenly flushed rose pink, and then grew pale. Her pretty round face expressed consternation, and it was the first time that any of them had seen it express anything.

"Then she did it, after all!" the girl said. "I thought she would give it up when I was not with her."

"Give up what?" asked Honora.

"She was—she said—"

"She bathed this morning after you all left home, and I found her insensible on the road on her way home. She had come to herself before I left them. Then this telegram came, and altogether, I fear that Miss Vandeleur is a good deal knocked up. She said she wanted you."

"Yes; I will walk by the railway path, and—Was Annie at home?"

"Yes, and she wanted you too," said Egerton, smiling.

"There will be a good deal to do," Honora said, as she drew on her gloves.

"Wait a moment, Honora. I am going to-morrow, you know, and it will make your preparations easier if I sleep here to-night, and then your sister can have my room. Send me my trunk by the evening train. What about Daisy? She is very tired."

"I will see her home," said Egerton.

And Daisy cried out, "Oh, but you'll scold me!"

"What for?"

"Not telling. But I thought she would be afraid alone."

"You would have been wise had you spoken out. Had she become insensible in the water, she would not be alive now. Even as it is, we cannot be sure that there are no bad consequences to follow. I have a patient to see at the farm, Miss Webb, but I will return in time for the train."

Honora thanked Miss Webb and bade her good-bye, told Daisy to look out for Frances, and to bring her home if no one came to meet her, which was possible. Then she ran lightly down the steep hill, and was soon out of sight.

When Daisy and Dr. Egerton reached the station, they found that the second-class carriage was full, but there was room in the first-class. There was a difference in the fare; none, observable to unofficial eyes, in the accommodation. There was a lady in the carriage, and Egerton knew at a glance that it was Frances Vandeleur, and knew also that he had seldom seen so beautiful a girl.

He whispered to Daisy as he helped her in, "This must be your sister."

"Oh, let me out," she said, trying to pass him as he followed her in.

"No, no; sit down, and I will manage it for you." Then aloud, "Have I the pleasure of speaking to Miss Frances Vandeleur?"

"If it is a pleasure," the stranger said, laying down her book.

"Then I have to tell you that this is one of your sisters."

"It is Daisy, I am sure. I remember her little round face. Come here and give me a kiss, Daisy, and introduce me to your friend."

"Do you mean Dr. Egerton?" Daisy said shyly.

"There is but one person here besides our two selves, my dear child."

"I promised to see Miss Daisy home, and shall have great pleasure in showing you the way. There may be no one to meet you at S. Canice, for something that might have been a disaster occurred to-day, and I am sure that your sisters are very busy."

"A disaster?" she said.

And he told her the whole story, and she was deeply interested, asked intelligent questions, and made herself very pleasant.

Daisy need not have felt shy, for if she had been in her own room at home, she could not have been less noticed. There was no one at the station, so they walked on, followed by a man with a truck, on which were piled three trunks and two bandboxes.

At the door Honora and Annie met them.

Frances kissed them, saying—

"Which is Marian?"

"I'm Honora—this is Annie. Marian is longing to welcome you. But, Dr. Egerton, we were afraid to move her. She's lying as you left her still. She is in such pain, not since we came here has she been so bad."

"May I go in?" he said, and went in, followed by the rest.

He knelt beside Marian, who did not open her eyes.

Annie said—

"She is worse, I'm afraid."

"We must get her to bed. Call Stasy. We shall want her help."

"Violet is in her bed," said Honora, "but I got mine ready for Marian."

Stasy came at once; Annie and Honora were willing, and did exactly what they were told. Daisy began to cry, and Egerton quietly put her aside. But the most efficient help came from the magnificent traveller, who tossed her plumed hat on a chair, dropped her handsome cloak, and showed not only strength beyond the common, but also that she knew how to use it. Yet, gently and skilfully as it was done, Marian could not repress a scream, echoed by Daisy and by Violet.

"Be quiet," said Honora, with a gasp for breath. "There, it's done at last. Dr. Egerton, I have a bottle of drops that Dr. Elliott gave me for her, but I was afraid to give them. Could they be good still?"

"Let me see. It is all right; the sooner you give it, the better. Make her as warm as you can, and shade the light. As to you, Miss Violet, you had better wrap up well, and run up to your own room. Go to bed at once, and stay there till I see you to-morrow."

He went into the parlour, and the three sisters busied themselves about Marian.

Violet and Daisy disappeared.

After a time, Annie went to the kitchen, and came back to say—

"Dinner is ready, Honora, and you and Frances must be starving. I'll stay with Marian until you come, Honourbright."

Honora and Frances went into the parlour, where they found Dr. Egerton.

"Dr. Egerton, you must be more than ready for some dinner. I hope you will join us. We dine in the kitchen to avoid a dinnery smell in our one sitting-room," Honora said.

The little kitchen was beautifully clean and neat, and the table nicely set forth. Stasy, having welcomed Frances, somewhat to that fair lady's amusement, attended fairly well, and the dinner, though simple, was well-cooked. Honora was actually too tired to eat, or even to speak. But if she was silent, there was no lack of conversation.

"Miss Frances," said Egerton, "confess. You have been at least partially trained as a nurse?"

"Yes, partially. I have been in one of the Dublin hospitals for some time. Now they want me to go to Edinburgh, and to complete my training as a surgical nurse; I have such nerve, they say. How did you know?" And Frances turned to him with a smile—a smile so brilliant as to be almost dazzling, but it did not creep into her eyes as did Honora's.

"It was easy to detect a skilled hand," he replied. "You would be an ideal nurse, for you are wonderfully strong."

"Yes," she said. "I rather like it, too. Yet I don't know. Are you going, Honora?"

"Yes, I want to send Annie and Daisy. I forgot Daisy."

"I cannot think why they call her Honourbright," said Frances, as the door closed, "for she is as pale as a ghost, and looks extinguished."

"She has been walking all day. I dare say she feels extinguished." Then he saw that she took this as a compliment, and added, "I wish she could rest."

"Oh, make your mind easy. I shall send them all to bed and see after both patients all right. I am not the least tired, for I slept in Plymouth last night. Well, Annie, is all quiet?"

"Marian is asleep; she seems better," said Annie, taking Honora's place. "What a day this has been! I feel as if it were a month long. Dr. Egerton, you must wish you had never heard the name Vandeleur."

To which he replied rather earnestly, "I never was further from wishing that."

And again Frances smiled.

Egerton coloured, and took refuge in a purely professional manner.

For some days, Marian was unable to leave her bed, and Violet was really ill and very feverish. Dr. Egerton had a very anxious time of it, and Frances was a tower of strength to the two less experienced nurses, and she certainly never spared herself. Neither did they, and Honora grew thin and white, and Annie looked fagged and weary; while Frances never lost her exquisite carmine colour, vivid yet not too bright, nor looked tired, no matter how often she sat up all night.

Her training, too, enabled her to move Marian without hurting her, and she could rule Violet by a glance when the girl was feverish and excited. And she was wonderfully beautiful. Her eyes were of a blue so dark that they seemed almost black, her hair was dark and abundant, her forehead broad and fine, her lips were very red, but her mouth had a rather straight, cold look when closed. When she spoke and smiled, she was quite beautiful, and Daisy did nothing but stare at her, and followed her about like a little dog.

Naturally, Frances became Dr. Egerton's principal assistant during his attendance on Violet. Marian did not require his help long.

And Honora became less deserving of her pet name every day—in appearance, that is, for her bright and pleasant manner did not change.

The vacation passed. Miss Webb was back at Heyward's, and Honora was glad that she would soon be fully occupied, and no longer forced to sit looking on. At what, she did not tell herself.

"I have to go to Heyward's this afternoon to help in arranging the classes," said Honora at breakfast.

"Do take Daisy with you; she is a perfect nuisance to me just now. She is a stupid monkey, of no earthly use, and she is always at my heels. I really must be rid of her; my patience will not stand this kind of thing."

Perhaps it was not wonderful that poor little Daisy began to cry, and leaving her half-eaten breakfast, ran up to her own room, there to confide her woes to Violet.

"You did not see that Daisy was here," said Honora. "Poor Daisy! And she admires you so heartily."

"I saw her plain enough, and a pretty little doll she is, but I doubt if she has intellect enough to learn a business—not nursing, at all events, for she cannot be trusted to remember anything. And to tell you the truth, I had to make my meaning pretty plain, for she has declined to take a quiet hint, and she is more in my way than you can imagine. Things are going very nicely; they are in a very fair way, if Daisy did not always play gooseberry."

"What does that mean?" Honora asked.

"Oh, being always there when 'two are company,' etc. I little thought when I came here that I should light upon so very eligible a person. He is the only son of Mr. Egerton of Eltringham, who comes to hunt with the Ward hounds sometimes. And with Daisy out of my way, you shall see—what you shall see. My nurse's training has stood me in good stead, for he is somewhat shy. But he admires me greatly,—" looking over her shoulder to admire herself in a dim and doubtful mirror which filled the space between the windows, and with which the sea air had played sad tricks.

Honora took Daisy with her. And after a long consultation with Miss Webb, the girl chose to study with a view to getting a clerkship in the post-office.

A good many of the pupils had arrived, and there was nothing for them to do all the evening. Honora offered to teach them to dance, another teacher volunteered to play for them, and after some skirmishing about and many mistakes, the girls were all dancing vigorously and with great enjoyment, if not with grace. Honora, very tired and with her feet somewhat the worse for being trampled on, went and sat down beside Miss Webb in the deep bay window.

"Honora, do you know that you are looking far from well?" said Miss Webb. "Shall I close the window, my dear?"

"No, no; the air is lovely. You know we have had a very trying autumn. I have had no rest; and besides, there is something that worries me. I wish I could ask for your advice, but I do not want to say more than a little."

"Say that little, my dear girl. I will ask no impertinent questions."

Under cover of the music and dancing, and in the comparatively secluded place, Honora managed to say—

"If you—if any one knew that a person—of whom you—ought to be fond—was being made believe that—some one—was in love with her, and would ask her to marry him, and if you knew that—he was most likely amusing himself and would never do it, ought one to warn her?"

"One must be very certain, Honora."

"I am certain. He did—just the same to another girl—long ago."

"Did what?"

"Pretended. Made a girl think, as this girl thinks now. And when they met again, there was nothing."

Miss Webb did not even glance towards the speaker. She said quietly—

"It would be kind to give her a hint. One need not say much, probably a hint would be enough."

"Thank you," whispered Honora.

A few minutes later, Dr. Egerton walked into the room. The girls were dispersing to the dormitories, Daisy among them, for she and Honora were to sleep at the College.

"I just came up from the station to welcome you back, Miss Webb. You here so late, Miss Honora?"

"I am not going home to-night. What a pity you did not come in time to see the dancing! Will you have some lemonade?"

Still Miss Webb did not look at her. But, curious to say, she was somewhat short in her manner to Dr. Egerton when Honora had left them, saying that she must see after Daisy.

This was rather hard upon Dr. Egerton. He looked at her with a half smile, and said—

"I came to tell you a piece of news; but I see that you are longing to be rid of me, Miss Webb."

"Well, I am tired, so good-night," was her reply.

"Good-night," he replied. "Do the French classes begin to-morrow?"

"No, to-morrow will be taken up in forming classes."

"And will Miss Honora go home?"

"She can if she likes. She did not speak about it."

He departed, Miss Webb looking after him vengefully.

"And I thought so well of him!" she muttered. "But all men are much alike in some things."