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George Crabbe - "Miscellaneous Poems"

George Meredith - "Vittoria, v6"

Thomas Paine - "Common Sense"

Georg Ebers - "The Bride of the Nile, Volume 10."

THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY

C >> Charlotte M. Yonge >> THE CLEVER WOMAN OF THE FAMILY




"If any one should wish to forget it, it is you, I think, Bessie,"
said Alick. "Your admirable sagacity seems to have been at fault.
I thought you prided yourself on your climbing."

"Up a slippery perpendicular--"

"I know the place," he gravely answered.

"Well," exclaimed Bessie, recovering herself, "I am not a mermaid nor
even a dear gazelle, and, in my humble opinion, there was far more
grace in preventing heroism from being 'unwept, unnoticed, and
unsung,' than in perilling my own neck, craning down and strangling
the miserable beast, by pulling him up by the scrough of his neck!
What an introduction would have been lost!"

"If you are going to play, Bessie," said her brother, "it would be
kind to take pity upon those boys."

"One achievement is mine," she said, dancing away backwards, her
bright eyes beaming with saucy merriment, "the great Alexander has
bidden me to croquet."

"I am afraid," said her brother, turning to Rachel as she departed,
"that it was all her fault. Pray be patient with her, she has had
many disadvantages."

His incomprehensible irony had so often perplexed Rachel, that she
did not know whether his serious apologetic tone were making game of
her annoyance, and she answered not very graciously, "Oh, never mind,
it did not signify." And at the same time came another urgent
entreaty from the boys that the two "aunts" would join the game,
Conrade evidently considering that partnership with him would seal
the forgiveness Aunt Rachel had won by the rescue of Don.

Grace readily yielded, but Rachel pleaded her engagement, and when
the incorrigible Bessie declared that they perfectly understood that
nothing could compete with the sketch of the Spinster's Needles, she
answered, "I promised to write a letter for my mother on business
before post time. The Burnaby bargain," she explained, to add
further conviction.

"A business-like transaction indeed!" exclaimed Bessie, much diverted
with the name.

"Only a bit of land in trust for apprenticing poor children," said
Rachel. "It was left by a Curtis many generations ago, in trust to
the rector of the parish and the lord of the manor; and poor Mr.
Linton is so entirely effete, that it is virtually in our hands. It
is one of the vexations of my life that more good cannot be done with
it, for the fees are too small for superior tradespeople, and we can
only bind them to the misery of lacemaking. The system belongs to a
worn-out state of things."

The word system in Rachel's mouth was quite sufficient to send Bessie
to her croquet, and the poor boys were at length rewarded for their
unusual patience. Their mother had been enduring almost as much as
they did in her dislike to see them tantalised, and she now threw
herself into the game with a relish that proved that as yet, at
least, Conrade's approbation was more to her than Captain Keith's.
It was very pretty to see her so pleased with her instructions, so
eager about her own game, and yet so delighted with every hit of her
boys; while Bessie was an admirable general, playing everybody's game
as well as her own, and with such life and spirit, such readiness and
good nature, that a far duller sport would have been delicious under
her management.

"Poor Alick," said she, meeting him when he again strolled into the
garden, while the boys were collecting the mallets and balls; "he did
think he had one lawn in the world undefiled by those horrible
hoops!" then as she met his smile of amusement and pardon, "but it
was so exactly what they wanted here. It is so good for Lady Temple
and her boys to have something they can do together."

The pleased affectionate smile was gone.

"I object to nothing but its being for her good," he said gravely.

"But now, does not it make her very happy, and suit her excellently?"

"May be so, but that is not the reason you introduced it."

"You have a shocking habit of driving one up into corners, Alick, but
it shall be purely, purely for my own selfish delight," and she
clasped her hands in so droll an affectation of remorse, that the
muscles round his eyes quivered with diversion, though the hair on
his lip veiled what the corners of his mouth were about; "if only,"
she proceeded, "you won't let it banish you. You must come over to
take care of this wicked little sister, or who knows what may be the
consequences."

"I kept away partly because I was busy, and partly because I believe
you are such a little ape as always to behave worse when you have the
semblance of a keeper;" he said, with his arm fondly on her shoulder
as they walked.

"And in the mean time fell out the adventure of the distinguished
essayist."

"I am afraid," he returned, "that was a gratuitous piece of mischief,
particularly annoying to so serious and thoughtful a person as Miss
Rachel Curtis."

"Jealousy?" exclaimed Bessie in an ecstatic tone. "You see what you
lost by not trusting me, to behave myself under the provocation of
your presence."

"What! the pleasure of boxing your ears for a coward?"

"Of seizing the happy opening! I am very much afraid for you now,
Alick," she proceeded with mock gravity. "What hope can a poor
Captain of Highlanders, even if he does happen to be a wounded hero
or two, have against a distinguished essayist and landscape painter;
if it were a common case indeed, but where Wisdom herself is
concerned--"

"Military frivolity cannot hope," returned Alick, with a shake of his
head, and a calm matter-of-fact acquiescent tone.

"Ah, poor Alick," pursued his sister, "you always were a discreet
youth; but to be connected with such a union of learning, social
science, and homeaopathy, soared beyond my utmost ambition. I
suppose the wedding tour--supposing the happy event to take place--
will be through a series of model schools and hospitals, ending in
Hanwell."

"No," said Alick, equally coolly, "to the Dutch reformatory, and the
Swiss cretin asylum."

She was exceedingly tickled at his readiness, and proceeded in a
pretended sentimental tone, "I am glad you have revealed the secrets
of your breast. I saw there was a powerful attraction and that you
were no longer your own, but my views were humbler. I thought the
profound respect with which you breathed the name of Avonmouth, was
due to the revival of the old predilection for our sweet little--"

"Hush, Bessie," said her brother, roused for the first time into
sternness, "this is more than nonsense. One word more of this, and
you will cut me off from my greatest rest and pleasure."

"From the lawn where croquet waits his approbation," was on Bessie's
tongue, but she did not say it. There were moments when she stood in
fear of her brother. He paused, and as if perceiving that his
vehemence was in itself suspicious, added, "Remember, I never met her
from seven years old till after her marriage. She has been the
kindest of friends in right of our fathers' old friendship. You know
how her mother nursed me, and the sister she was to me. And Bessie,
if your selfishness--I wish I could call it thoughtlessness--involves
her innocent simplicity in any scrape, derogatory to what is becoming
her situation, I shall find it very hard to forgive you, and harder
still to forgive myself for letting you come here."

Bessie pouted for a moment, but her sweetness and good humour were
never away. "There, you have given your wicked little sister a
screed," she said, looking insinuatingly up at him. "Just as if I
did not think her a darling, and would not for the world do anything
to spoil her. Have not I been leading the most exemplary life,
talking systems and visiting cottages with Rachel and playing with
the boys, and singing with the clergyman; and here am I pounced on,
as if I were come to be the serpent in this anti-croquet paradise."

"Only a warning, Bessie."

"You'll be better now you have had it out. I've seen you suppressing
it all this time, for fear of frightening me away."

Every one knows how the afternoon croquet match on the Myrtlewood
Lawn became an institution, though with some variation in the
observers thereof, owing to the exigencies of calls, rides, and
Ermine Williams's drive, which Lady Temple took care should happen at
least twice a week. The most constant votaries of the mallet and
hoop were, of course, the two elder boys, the next pair being distant
worshippers only now and then admitted by special favour, but the
ardour of their mother even exceeded that of Bessie Keith, and it was
always a disappointment to her if she were prevented from playing.
Grace and Alison Williams frequently took their share with enjoyment,
though not with the same devotion, and visitors, civil and military,
also often did their part, but the most fervent of all these was Mr.
Touchett. Ever since that call of his, when, after long impatience
of his shy jerks of conversation and incapacity of taking leave, Miss
Keith had exclaimed, "Did you ever play at croquet? do come, and we
will teach you," he had been its most assiduous student. The first
instructions led to an appointment for more, one contest to another,
and the curate was becoming almost as regular a croquet player as
Conrade himself, not conversing much but sure to be in his place; and
showing a dexterity and precision that always made Lady Temple
pleased to have him on her side, and exclaim with delight at his hits
as a public benefit to the cause, or thank him with real gratitude
when he croqued her or one of her sons out of a difficulty.

Indeed that little lawn at Myrtlewood was a battle-field, of which
Alison used to carry her sister amusing and characteristic sketches.
The two leading players were Miss Keith and Mr. Touchett, who alone
had any idea of tactics; but what she did by intuition, sleight of
hand or experience, he effected by calculation and generalship, and
even when Conrade claimed the command of his own side, the
suggestions of the curate really guided the party. Conrade was a
sort of Murat on the croquet field, bold, dashing, often making
wonderful hits, but uncertain, and only gradually learning to act in
combination. Alison was a sure-handed, skilful hitter, but did not
aspire to leadership. Mamma tried to do whatever her boys commanded,
and often did it by a sort of dainty dexterity, when her exultation,
was a very pretty sight, nor was Grace's lady-like skill
contemptible, but having Francis as an ally was like giving a castle;
and he was always placed on the other side from Conrade, as it was
quite certain that he would do the very reverse of whatever his
brother advised. Now and then invitations were given for Rose
Williams to join the game, but her aunts never accepted them. Ermine
had long ago made up her mind against intimacies between her niece
and any pupils of Alison's, sure that though starts of pleasure might
result, they would be at the cost of ruffling, and, perhaps,
perturbing the child's even stream of happiness--even girl-
friendships might have been of doubtful effect where circumstances
were so unequal; but Lady Temple's household of boys appeared to
Ermine by no means a desirable sphere for her child to be either
teased or courted in. Violetta, Colinette, and Augustus were safer
comrades, and Rose continued to find them sufficient, varied with the
rare delight of now and then sharing her aunt's drive, and brightened
by many a kind message in Colonel Keith's letters to her aunt, nay,
occasionally a small letter to herself, or an enclosure of some
pretty photograph for her much-loved scrap book, or some article for
Colinette's use, sometimes even a new book! She was never forgotten
in his letters, and Ermine smiled her strange pensive smile of
amusement at his wooing of the unconscious Rose.




CHAPTER X



THE PHILANTHROPIST.



"Scorn not the smallness of daily endeavour,
Let the great meaning ennoble it ever,
Droop not o'er efforts expended in vain,
Work, as believing, that labour is gain."
Queen Isabel, &c. by S. M.


The sturdy recusant against Myrtlewood croquet continued to be Rachel
Curtis, and yet it was not a testimony against the game so much as
real want of time for it. She was always full of occupation, even
while her active mind craved for more definite and extended labour;
and when she came upon the field of strategy, it was always either
with some business before her, or else so late that the champions
were only assisting their several lags to bring the battle to an end.

If there had been a will there would have been a way, but, as she
said, she saw enough to perceive that proficiency could only be
attained at the cost of much time and study, and she did not choose
to be inferior and mediocre. Also, she found occupations open to her
elsewhere that had long been closed or rendered unpleasant. Mr.
Touchett had become wonderfully pacific and obliging of late, as if
the lawn tactics absorbed his propensities for offence and defence,
he really seemed obliged for one or two bits of parish work that she
attended to; finding that between him and his staff of young ladies
they were getting omitted. Somehow, too, an unaccountable blight was
passing over the activity of those curatolatresses, as Rachel had
been wont to call them; they were less frequently to be met with
popping out of the schools and cottages, and Rachel, who knew well
all the real poor, though refusing the bonds of a district, was
continually detecting omissions which she more often supplied than
reported. There was even a smaller sprinkling at the weekly
services, and the odd thing was that the curate never seemed to
remark or be distressed by the change, or if any one spoke of the
thin congregation he would say, winter was the Avonmouth season,
which was true enough, but the defaulters were mostly his own
peculiar followers, the female youth of the professional and
mercantile population.

Rachel did not trouble herself about the cause of all this, indeed
she was too much occupied with the gradual gliding into somewhat of
her original activity and importance in the field thus left open to
her. None the less, however, did she feel the burden of life's
problems; the intercourse she had enjoyed with Colonel Keith had
excited her for a time, but in the reaction, the old feelings
returned painfully that the times were out of joint; the heavens
above became obscure and misty as before, the dark places of the
earth looked darker than ever, and those who lived at ease seemed to
be employed either in sport upon the outside of the dungeon where the
captives groaned, or in obstructing the way of those who would fain
have plunged in to the rescue.

Her new acquaintance, Mr. Mauleverer, was an example of such
prevention, which weighed much on her mind. He had been perfectly
unobtrusive, but Mrs. Curtis meeting him on the second day of his
sketching, had naturally looked at his drawing, and admired it so
much that she brought her daughters to see it when in course of
completion the next day. He had then asked whether there would be
any objection to his making use of the sketches in the way of
remunerative sale. Mrs. Curtis looked rather taken aback, it hardly
agreed with her exclusive notions of privacy, and he at once
apologized with such humility that she was touched, and felt herself
doing him a wrong, whilst Rachel was angry at her scruple, yet
uncomfortably thought of "that landscape painter," then said in her
decided way, "you did not mean to object, mother?"

"Oh, not for a moment, pray don't think of it," returned Mr.
Mauleverer, in haste. "I would not think of the intrusion. It is
only that these poor trifles are steps to one of the few means by
which I can still hope to do even a little for my fellow creatures;
the greatest solace that remains to me."

"My mother did not mean to prevent anything," said Rachel eagerly;
"least of all any means of doing good."

"Indeed, I cannot but be aware that Miss Curtis is the last
individual who would do so, except indeed by the good works she
herself absorbs."

"You are too good, sir," returned Mrs. Curtis; "I am sure I did not
mean to object to anything for good. If it is for a charity, I am
sure some of our friends would be very glad to take some sketches of
our scenery; they have been begging me this long time to have it
photographed. I should like to have that drawing myself, it would
please your aunt so much, my dear, if we sent it to her."

Mr. Mauleverer bowed, but Rachel was not sure whether he had not been
insulted.

Next day he left at the door the drawing handsomely mounted, and
looking so grand and meritorious that poor Mrs. Curtis became much
troubled in mind whether its proper price might not be five or even
ten guineas, instead of the one for which she had mentally bargained,
or if this might not be the beginning of a series; "which would be
quite another thing, you know, my dear."

Rachel offered to go and talk to the artist, who was sketching in
full view from the windows, and find out what value he set upon it.

"Perhaps, but I don't know, my dear. Won't it be odd? Had you not
better wait till Grace comes in, or till I can come down with you?"

"No need at all, mother, I can do it much better alone, and at my
age--"

So Rachel took a parasol and stepped out, looked at the outline newly
produced, thanked and praised the drawing that had been received,
adding that her mother would be glad to know what price Mr.
Mauleverer set upon it. She was met by a profession of ignorance of
its value, and of readiness to be contented with whatever might be
conferred upon his project; the one way in which he still hoped to be
of service to his fellow creatures, the one longing of his life.

"Ah!" said Rachel, greatly delighted with this congenial spirit, and
as usual preferring the affirmative to the interrogative. "I heard
you had been interesting yourself about Mrs Kelland's lace school.
What a miserable system it is!"

"My inquiries have betrayed me then? It is indeed a trying
spectacle."

"And to be helpless to alleviate it," continued Rachel. "Over work,
low prices and middle-men perfectly batten on the lives of our poor
girls here. I have thought it over again and again, and it is a
constant burden on my mind."

"Yes, indeed. The effects of modern civilization are a constant
burden on the compassion of every highly constituted nature."

"The only means that seems to me likely to mitigate the evil,"
continued Rachel, charmed at having the most patient listener who had
ever fallen to her lot, "would be to commence an establishment where
some fresh trades might be taught, so as to lessen the glut of the
market, and to remove the workers that are forced to undersell one
another, and thus oblige the buyers to give a fairly remunerative
price."

"Precisely my own views. To commence an establishment that would
drain off the superfluous labour, and relieve the oppressed, raising
the whole tone of female employment."

"And this is the project you meant?"

"And in which, for the first time, I begin to hope for success, if it
can only receive the patronage of some person of influence."

"Oh, anything I can do!" exclaimed Rachel, infinitely rejoiced. "It
is the very thing I have been longing for for years. What, you would
form a sort of industrial school, where the children could be taught
some remunerative labour, and it might soon be almost self-
supporting?"

"Exactly; the first establishment is the difficulty, for which I have
been endeavouring to put a few mites together."

"Every one would subscribe for such a purpose!" exclaimed Rachel.

"You speak from your own generous nature, Miss Curtis; but the world
would require patronesses to recommend."

"There could be no difficulty about that!" exclaimed Rachel; but at
this moment she saw the Myrtlewood pony carriage coming to the door,
and remembering that she had undertaken to drive out Ermine Williams
in it, she was obliged to break off the conversation, with an eager
entreaty that Mr. Mauleverer would draw up an account of his plan,
and bring it to her the next day, when she would give her opinion on
it, and consider of the means.

"My dear," said her mother, on her return, "how long you have been;
and what am I to give for the water-colour?"

"Oh, I forgot all about the water-colour; but never mind what we
give, mamma, it is all to go to an asylum for educating poor girls,
and giving them some resource beyond that weary lace-making--the very
thing I have always longed for. He is coming to settle it all with
me to-morrow, and then we will arrange what to give."

"Indeed, my dear, I hope it will be something well managed. I think
if it were not for those middle-men, lace-making would not be so bad.
But you must not keep poor Miss Williams waiting."

Ermine had never seen Rachael in such high spirits as when they set
out through the network of lanes, describing her own exceeding
delight in the door thus opening for the relief of the suffering over
which she had long grieved, and launching out into the details of the
future good that was to be achieved. At last Ermine asked what
Rachel knew of the proposer.

"Captain Keith, heard he was a distinguished professor and essayist."

"Then I wonder we have not heard his name," said Ermine. "It is a
remarkable one; one might look in the 'Clergy List' at Villars's."

"Villars called him a clerical gentleman," mused Rachel.

"Then you would be sure to be able to find out something about him
before committing yourself."

"I can see what he is," said Rachel, "a very sensible, accomplished
man, and a great deal more; not exactly a finished gentleman. But
that is no objection to his doing a great work."

"None at all," said Ermine, smiling; "but please forgive me. We have
suffered so much from trusting too implicitly, that I never can think
it safe to be satisfied without thorough knowledge of a person's
antecedents."

"Of course," said Rachel, "I shall do nothing without inquiry.
I will find out all about him, but I cannot see any opening for
distrust. Schemes of charity are not compatible with self-seeking
and dishonesty."

"But did I not hear something about opinions?"

"Oh, as to that, it was only Villars. Besides, you are a clergyman's
daughter, and your views have a different colouring from mine.
Modern research has introduced so many variations of thought, that no
good work would be done at all if we required of our fellow-labourers
perfect similarity of speculative belief."

"Yet suppose he undertook to teach others?"

"The simple outlines of universal doctrine and morality which are
required by poor children are not affected by the variations to which
investigation conducts minds of more scope."

"I am afraid such variations may often reach the foundation."

"Now, Miss Williams, I am sure you must often have heard it observed
how when it comes to real practical simple teaching of uninstructed
people, villagers or may be heathens, the details of party difference
melt away, and people find themselves in accordance."

"True, but there I think party differences in the Church, and even
the variations between Christian sects are concerned, both being
different ways of viewing the same truth. These may, like the
knights in the old fable, find that both were right about the shield,
both have the same foundation. But where the foundation is not the
same, the results of the teaching will not agree."

"Every one agrees as to morality."

"Yes, but do all give a motive sufficient to enforce the self-denial
that morality entails? Nay, do they show the way to the spiritual
strength needful to the very power of being moral?"

"That is begging the question. The full argument is whether the full
church, say Christian system, exactly as you, as we hold it, is
needful to the perfection of moral observance. I don't say whether I
assent, but the present question is whether the child's present
belief and practice need be affected by its teacher's dogmatic or
undogmatic system."

"The system for life is generally formed in childhood. Harvest
depends on seed time."

"And after all," added Rachel, "we have no notion whether this poor
man be not precisely of your own opinions, and from their fruits I am
sure you ought to claim them."

"Their blossoms if you please," laughed Ermine. "We have not seen
their fruits yet."

"And I shall take care the fruits are not nipped with the blight of
suspicion," said Rachel, good-humouredly.

However, after driving Ermine home, and seeing her lifted out and
carried into the house by her sister, Rachel did send the carriage
back by the groom and betake herself to Villars's shop, where she
asked for a sight of the "Clergy List." The name of Mauleverer
caught her eye, but only one instance of it appeared, and he was a
cathedral canon, his presentation dated in 1832, the time at which,
judging from appearances, the object of her search might have been
born; besides, he rejoiced in the simple name of Thomas. But
Rachel's search was brought to an abrupt conclusion by the issue of
Mr. Mauleverer himself from the reading-room within the shop. He
bowed and passed by, but Rachel for the life of her could not hinder
a burning colour from spreading to the very tips of her ears; so
certain did she feel that she was insulting him by her researches,
and that he perceived them. She felt absolutely ashamed to see him
the next day, and even in her dreams was revolving speeches that
might prove that though cautious and clear-sighted, she was neither
suspicious nor narrow-minded.

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