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She smiled approvingly at this, and then, as Uncle Keith's knock reached her ear, she rose quickly and went out of the room.
The moment I was left alone my assumed briskness of manner dropped into the mental dishabille that we wear for our own private use and comfort. Those two had always so much to say to each other that I was sure of at least half an hour's solitude, and in some moods self is the finest company. Yes, I had destroyed my boats, and now my motto must be "Forward!" This afternoon I had pledged myself to a new service—a service of self-renunciation and patient labour, undertaken—yes, I dare to say it—for the welfare of the large sisterhood of waiting and working women. A servant? No, a soldier; for I should be one among the vanguard, who strive to make a breach in the great fortress of conventionality. Not that I feared the word service, considering what Divine lips had said on that subject—"I am among you as one who serveth—" but I knew how the world shrank from such terms.
I have always maintained that half the so-called difficulties of life consist mainly in our dread of other people's opinions; women are especially trammelled by this bondage. They breathe the atmosphere of their own special world, and the chill wind of popular opinion blows coldly over them; like the sensitive plant, they shiver and wither up at a touch. I believe the master minds that achieve great things have created their own atmosphere, else how can they appear so impervious to criticism? How can they carry themselves so calmly, when their contemporaries are sneering round them? We must live above ourselves and each other; there is no other way of getting rid of the shams and disguises of life; and yet how is one who has been born in slavery to be absolutely true? How is an English gentlewoman to shake off the prejudices of caste and declare herself free?
Ah, well! this was the enigma I had set myself to solve. And now the old life—the protected girl's life—was receding from me; the old guards, the old landmarks were to be removed by my own hands. Should I live to repent my rash act, as Aunt Agatha predicted, or should I at some future time, when I looked back upon this wintry day, thank God, humbly and with tears of gratitude, that I had courage given me to see the right and do it, "ad finem fidelis," faithful to the last?
* * * * *
I found those last few days of home-life singularly trying. Indeed, I am not sure that I was not distinctly grateful when the final evening arrived. When one has to perform a painful duty there is no use in lingering over it; and when one is secretly troubled, a spoken and too discursive sympathy only irritates our mental membrane. How could Job, for example, tolerate the sackcloth and ashes, and, worse still, the combative eloquence of his friends?
Aunt Agatha's pathetic looks and pitying words fretted me to the very verge of endurance. I wished she would have been less mindful of my comforts, that she would not have insisted on helping me with my sewing, and loading me with little surprises in the shape of gifts. But for the bitter cold that kept me an unwilling prisoner by the fireside, I would have escaped into my own room to avoid the looks that seemed to follow me everywhere.
But I would not yield to my inward irritability; I hummed a tune; I even sang to myself, as I hemmed my new bib aprons, or quilled the neat border for my cap. Nay, I became recklessly gay the last night, and dressed myself in what I termed my nurse's uniform, a dark-navy blue cambric, and then went down to show myself to Uncle Keith, who was reading aloud the paper to Aunt Agatha. I could see him start as I entered; but Aunt Agatha's first words made me blush, and in a moment I repented my misplaced spirit of fun.
"Why, Merle, how pretty you look! Does not the child look almost pretty, Ezra, though that cap does hide her nice smooth hair? I had no idea that dress would be so becoming." But the rest of Aunt Agatha's speech was lost upon me, for I ran out of the room. Why, they seemed actually to believe that I was play-acting, that my part was a becoming one! Pretty, indeed! And here such a strange revulsion of feeling took possession of me that I absolutely shed a few tears, though none but myself was witness to this humiliating fact.
I did not go downstairs for a long time after that, and then, to my relief, I found Uncle Keith alone; for men are less sharp in some matters than women, and he would never find out that I had been crying, as Aunt Agatha would; but I was a little taken aback when he put down his paper, and asked, in a kind voice, why I had stayed so long in the cold, and if I had not finished my packing.
"Oh, yes," I returned, promptly, "everything was done, and my trunk was only waiting to be strapped down."
"That is right," he said, quite heartily, "always be beforehand with your duties, Merle; your aunt tells me you have made up your mind to leave us in the morning. I should have thought the afternoon or early evening would have been better."
"Oh, no, Uncle Keith," I exclaimed, and then, oddly enough, I began to laugh, and yet the provoking tears would come to my eyes, for a vision of sundry school domestics arriving towards night with their goods and chattels, and the remembrance of their shy faces in the morning light seemed to evoke a sort of dreary mirth; but to my infinite surprise and embarrassment, Uncle Keith patted me on the shoulder as though I were a child.
"There, there; never mind showing a bit of natural feeling that does you credit; your aunt is fretting herself to death over losing you—Hir-rumph; and I do not mind owning that the house will be a trifle dull without you; and, of course, a young creature like you must feel it, too." And with that he took my hands, awkwardly enough, and began warming them in his own, for they were blue with cold. If Aunt Agatha had only seen him doing it, and me, with the babyish tears running down my face.
"Why, look here," continued Uncle Keith, cheerily, with a sort of cricket-like chirp, "we are all as down as possible, just because you are leaving us, and yet you will only be two or three miles away, and any day if you want us we can be with you. Why, there is no difficulty, really; you are trying your little experiment, and I will say you are a brave girl for venturing on such a brave scheme. Well, if it does not answer, here is your home, and your own corner by the fireside, and an old uncle ready to work for you. I can't say more than that, Merle."
"Oh, Uncle Keith," I returned, sobbing remorsefully, "why are you so good to me, when I have always been so ungrateful for your kindness?"
"Nay, nay, we will leave bygones alone," he answered, a little huskily. "I never minded your tandrums, knowing there was a good heart at the bottom. I only wished I was not such a dry old fellow, and that you could have been fonder of me. Perhaps you will understand me better some day, and——" Here he stopped and cleared his throat, and said "hir-rumph" once or twice, and then I felt a thin crackling bit of paper underneath my palm. "It will buy you something useful, my dear," he finished, getting up in a hurry. A five-pound note, and he had lost so much money and had to do without so many comforts! Who can wonder that I jumped up and gave him a penitent hug.
It was long before I slept that night, and my first waking thoughts the next morning were hardly as pleasant as usual. A premonitory symptom of homesickness seized me as I glanced round my little room in the dim, winter light. Aunt Agatha had made it so pretty; but here a certain suspicious moisture stole under my eyelids, and I gave myself a resolute shake, and commenced my toilet in a business-like way that chased away gloomy thoughts.
Never had the little dining-room looked more inviting than when I entered it that morning. One of Uncle Keith's carefully hoarded logs blazed and crackled in the roomy fireplace, a delicious aroma of coffee and smoking ham pervaded the room. Aunt Agatha, in her pretty morning cap, was placing a vase of hothouse flowers some old pupil had sent her in the centre of the table, and the bullfinch was whistling as merrily as ever, while old Tom watched him, sleepily, from the rug. I was rather long warming my hands and stroking his sleek fur, for somehow I could not bring myself to look or speak in quite my ordinary manner; and though Uncle Keith did his best to enliven us by reading out scraps from his newspaper, I am afraid we gave him only a partial attention. When Uncle Keith had bade me a husky good-bye, and had gone to his office, Aunt Agatha and I made a grand feint of being busy. There was very little to do, really, but I considered it incumbent to be in a great state of activity. I am afraid to say how many times I ran up and down stairs for articles that were safely deposited at the bottom of my box. Aunt Agatha put a stop to it at last by taking my hand and putting me forcibly in Uncle Keith's big chair.
"Sit there and keep warm, Merle; the cab will not be here for another half hour; what is the use of our pretending that we are not exceedingly unhappy? My dear, you are leaving us with a sore heart, I can see that, and it only makes me love you all the better. Yes, indeed, Merle," for I was clinging to her now and sobbing softly under my breath; "and however things may turn out, whether this step be a failure or not, I will always say that you are a brave girl, who tried to do her duty."
"Are you sure you think that, Aunt Agatha?"
Then she smiled to herself a little sadly.
"You remind me of the baby Merle who was so anxious to help everyone. I remember you such a little creature, trying to lift the nursery chair, because your mother was tired; and how you dragged it across the room until you were red in the face, and came to me rubbing your little fat hands, and looking so important. 'The chair hurted baby drefful, but it might hurted poor mammy worser:' that was what you said. I think you would still hurt yourself 'drefful' if you could help someone else."
It was nice to hear this. What can be sweeter or less harmful than praise from one we love? It was nice to sit there with Aunt Agatha's soft hand in mine, and be petted. It would be long before I should have a cosy time with her again. It put fresh heart in me somehow; like Jonathan's taste of honey, "it lightened my eyes," so that when the final good-bye came, I could smile as I said it, and carry away an impression of Aunt Agatha's smile too, as she stood on the steps, with Patience behind her, watching until I was out of sight. I am afraid I am different to most young women of my age—more imaginative, and perhaps a little morbid. Many things in everyday life came to me in the guise of symbols or signs—a good-bye, for example. A parting even for a short time always appears to me a faint type of that last solemn parting when we bid good-bye to temporal things. I suppose kind eyes will watch us then, kind hands clasp ours; as we start on that long journey they will bid God help us, as with failing breath and, perhaps, some natural longings for the friends we love, we go out into the great unknown, waiting until a Diviner Guide take us by the hand. "God help you, poor soul," we seem to hear them say, and perhaps we hear the drip of their tears as they say it; but in that other room, who can tell how gently those human drops will be wiped away, in that place where pain and trouble are unknown?
(To be continued.)
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
MISCELLANEOUS.
IMPERIUM ET LIBERTAS.—There is no question of etiquette in the matter of the Highland friends of the bridegroom appearing at the wedding in their national costume. It is only a matter for their own decision and their friends' permission.
V. D. V.—You were exceedingly wrong in taking walks with any man without your parents' permission, and you degraded yourself by enlisting the aid of a servant to get letters from him unknown to them, and so led her to do wrong and to act in an untrustworthy way to her master and mistress. You ought to tell her that you regret having so done, and will do so no more.
A DEVONSHIRE DUMPLING says: "I would rather not drink vinegar or raw lemon-juice, if you do not mind, please." Dear little reader, pray do not feel uneasy on that score; nothing is further from our wishes! If your health be so good, leave yourself and your wholesome fat alone. If out of health, the case is otherwise. Dropsical puffing should be prescribed for by a doctor.
ROSS-SHIRE LASSIE.—The 5th October, 1869, was a Tuesday; the 25th March, 1865, was a Saturday.
LILY.—The passage you quote may mean that the blessed ones who have attained to perfect purity in the kingdom of their Father above were greater than the greatest still on earth.
A LIVELY GIRL is not likely to "get too stout." She inquires, "What is the best kind of a fiance to have?" Judging of her suitability for assuming the responsibility of selecting one, and of leaving her mother's sheltering wing, we should reply—a gilt gingerbread man.
A METEOR.—The Rosicrucians were a mystic brotherhood, made known to the outer world in certain books published in 1614-15-16. The last book, published in 1616, was acknowledged by Johann Valentine Andreae, and entitled "The Chymische Hochzeit Christiani Rosenkreuz." The former works are likewise described by him. From these we learn that one Christian Rosenkreuz, a German noble of the fourteenth century, founded a brotherhood of seven adepts on his return from the East, and that among their laws was one that they should each heal the sick gratis (or, at least, endeavour to do so), should meet annually at a certain secret place, and adopt the symbol of the Rose Crux, or rose springing from a cross, the device on Luther's seal. In 1622 societies of alchymists at The Hague and elsewhere assumed this title, and the tenets of the community were held by Cabalists, Freemasons, and Illuminati, and professed also by Cagliostro. It is said that a Lodge of Rosicrucians now exists in London.
TUMPY.—Our answers depend on the questions and style of the letters addressed to us. You were right in your surmise. Your writing is legible, but not sufficiently regular. If you write us a ridiculous letter we promise you a suitable answer. We are so sorry for your poor father. Could he not subscribe for Punch, or procure a few copies of the famous "Mrs. Brown" series?
HIGHLAND MARY inquires, "Who was the author of the first settler, and where is it?" How can we tell "where it is"? There have been "first settlers" in every part of the globe. The first part of your letter is better written than the concluding portion, and gives good promise for a good running hand by-and-by.
C. HORSELL.—The lines you send us are very faulty; in fact, are only badly-rhymed prose; but if it amuses you to write such, do not desist, as outlets are useful to very young people, and it seems desirable for them to give vent to their feelings a little.
NOLENS VOLENS.—Many people do not begin "My dear So-and-So," nor end with "Yours sincerely," etc., on a postcard, but merely write their address in full at the top, and the message signed beneath it, with initials only. But you can do as you like in the matter; there is no rule. We wonder that, having such suspicions of our honesty, you continued to read our paper.
ROUSSEAU and FLOSSY.—We know of no cure for mere nervousness, unless, as sometimes happens, it passes into a disease, when a doctor should be consulted. Try to forget yourself in the pleasure of adding to the enjoyment of others.
HOPE ATHELING.—A.E.I. means "for ever." "I don't think" is a common colloquialism used by everyone, and is not more incorrect than such expressions generally are.
J. S. F.—
"Not even the tenderest heart, and next our own, Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh,"
is from Keble's "Christian Year," 24th Sunday after Trinity, verse 1.
MARIE.—The quotation—
"A primrose by a river's brim A yellow primrose was to him, And it was nothing more,"
is from Wordsworth's poem, "Peter Bell," part i.; stanza 12.
ERA.—The signification of the bee appearing on the monument of the Prince Imperial, is that the French royal mantle and standard were thickly sown with golden bees instead of "Louis flowers" or Fleurs de lys. The origin dates back to the time of the early Egyptians, who symbolised their kings under this emblem, the honey indicating the reward they gave to the well-doers, and the sting the punishment they inflicted on the evil. More than 300 golden bees were found in the tomb of Childeric, A.D. 1653. Offer your song to some composer. Sometimes they are in request; more frequently there are more offered than are required. All depends on the fancy of the composer. Only two questions are allowed, and the answers given at the discretion of the Editor. We regret that you have been disappointed.
CISSIE.—You cannot interfere with the laudable work of the rector in building a school-house for the use of his parishioners; it is his duty. But the parents of the children will have the right of choice between this school and your private one. Mourning for a parent lasts a year; but you are free to wear it longer if you like.
WINNIE E. L.—You should consult a doctor. We cannot usurp his place, though we are always willing to give sensible advice on hygienic and sanitary matters.
POLLY and OTHERS.—The measurements of a classic figure, as given on authority, are: height, 5 feet 41/2 inches; bust, 32 inches; waist, 24 inches; 9 inches from under the arm to the waist, with long arms and neck. The proportions of a larger and more stately woman or girl would be: height, 5 feet 5 or 6 inches; bust, 36 inches; waist 261/2 inches; hips 35 inches; thick part of arm, 111/2 inches; wrist, 61/2 inches. The hands and feet should not be too small. "Polly" will see that no arrangements are made by judges of true beauty and its lines for waists of 15 or 16 inches. They are simply deformities.
BUDDIE.—The book was published anonymously.
C. B. GLOUCESTER.—Easter Day fell on the 25th March, in 1546, 1641, 1736, 1886, and will fall next time in 1943. Tram, used as a prefix to way and road, is the last syllable of the name of their inventor, Mr. Benjamin Outram, who in 1800 made improvements in the system of railways for common roads, then in use in the North of England. The first iron tramroad from Croydon to Wandsworth was completed July 24th, 1801. Mr. Outram was the father of the celebrated Indian general, Sir James Outram.
WILD HYACINTH.—We know of nothing save to benefit your general health. The intense perspiration is evidently an effort of nature. Do you take a tepid bath every morning, and as much exercise as possible? You have doubtless received your book.
R. H. P.—We do not think cold and haughty people are at all nice, nor do we think they could be happy themselves, or make others happy. The Christian ideal is neither coldness nor haughtiness, but sympathy and love. You must take care of those long tails at the end of your words in writing. Better tie them up as the Dutch farmers do the tails of their cows. They are in writing ugly and useless appendages.
NANNIE B. and FIDDLESTICKS have our best thanks for their letters.
ISIS.—We are much obliged for the account of your visit to the Temple, and we regret we can make no use of it. You will acquire more ease in writing by constant practice.
GERTRUDE.—We think the first year you must take what is offered to you in the way of salary.
A FIELD OFFICER'S DAUGHTER.—We have perused the two poems, and consider that they hold some promise of better things, though both are faulty in construction and rhyme.
INCONSISTENCY'S paper is too much like a schoolgirl's composition for our pages; but she evidently tries to think, which is more than many people do.
ELSIE.—We never heard any more of the saying about Brighton, than "a country without trees and a sea without ships," and we have looked for the original authorship in vain.
SWEET VIOLETS.—We know of nothing but constant rubbing and the practice of gymnastics to do your shoulders good. You probably have some trick of standing crookedly that has helped to make it grow out, such as standing on one leg, or giving down on one side.
FOREVER AND EVER writes English very well, though her writing is rather too pointed to suit English tastes. But at 16 she has plenty of time to alter it if she likes.
B. H. M. W.—The lines show much good feeling and affection, but no poetic talent.
A WELL WISHER.—Rydal and Loughrigg, a township of England, Co. Westmoreland, on the Leven, two miles N.W. of Ambleside, celebrated for its beautiful lake, on the banks of which stands Rydal Mount, long the residence of the poet Wordsworth.
MADGE.—We think "Madge" must not worry herself, as she certainly cannot help people who will not allow themselves to be helped, in her way at least of assisting them; good advice is generally unpalatable. She must look on the best side of the matter, and hope that her friend may be happy and comfortable in her own way. We doubt that you could have prevented the marriage, as your friend is very likely tired of the trouble of earning her living, and thinks of marriage as a way of escape. You must commend both her and her affairs to God, and cease worrying yourself.
NELL.—Your mother's brother is your uncle, no matter whether by the father or the mother. To put the case in another way, your grandfather's son is your uncle by whatever wife he had, first or fourth. Of course you could not marry him. See the "table of degrees of affinity" in the Book of Common Prayer.
ONE OF OUR GIRLS.—We think that men not much exposed to cold and damp, and night work, such as sailors and soldiers, do not need the warmth nor stimulant obtained by smoking any more than women do. Nevertheless, a single cigar or pipe daily would not be injurious to a grown man, though much so to a young lad in his teens. Men are so careless about cleansing their pipes from that poisonous nicotine, that multitudes have found their habit of excessive smoking a highly provoking cause of cancer in the mouth.
HEBRIDEAN.—We think some foolish person has been worrying you with nonsensical fault-finding. We can not see that you were wrong in any way. You were with other girls and with your brothers, and that should be sufficient protection, whoever you were walking with. Do not allow yourself to be teased.
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