Mona St. Claire, etc

Chapter I Wanted In The Study

" ~1\ /TONA, father wants you at once in the study." _LV_L To most families this announcement would have proved an ordinary one enough. Not so in this one, however. As the words are spoken, five young heads are simultaneously raised from trhe table over which they are bent, and their respective owners look inquiringly, and not without some consternation, at their elder sister, who has spoken them. " Yes," she continues, " he wants you at once ; and I advise you not to keep him waiting, for, judging from the sound his boots made as he walked across the hall, I should say he is not in a good temper." " Oh, good gracious ! " exclaims the required young lady, casting despairing glances around. "Whatever can he want me for? Have I done anything, I wonder, or is there anytldng I ought to have done, and haven't ?

" i B MONA ST. CLAIRE 2 " Not more than usual," replies the first speaker, sitting down to the table and drawing the ink to wards her. " I refer to your first query, of course ! " " Don't tease her, Daphne," commands a curly headed damsel, as she rapidly turns over the pages of a dictionary ; " and you can't have that ink ! There's another pot on your side of the table ; this belongs to ours. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! what is the French for saucepan? Here, Phyllis, my clear, do see to this phrase for Nancy, while I see if Mona is in visiting trim. Look, here it is : ' Your saucepan is less bright than that of your cousin.' Bah ! as if any one cared whether their cousin's saucepan was bright or not ! And why, I wonder, will French exercises always afflict us with such myriads of cousins ? Now, Mona, turn round.

Oh, my gracious ! Here is a great tear in your tennis apron ! Father will spot it at once if you go clown in it. I should take it off if I were you. There, that's all right. And don't look as if you were about to be executed ; father hates what he cads a ' long ' face. Try and think of something pleasant, such as his next visit to Scotland." And, although younger than the sister in whom she is endeavour ing to instd some faint semblance of courage, Hilda pats Mona's hand encouragingly, and leads her to the door. " I wonder what he wants her for ? " she continues, returning to her chair and drawing it up to the book and paper-bestrewn table. " Heigh ho ! poor Mona ! Now, when you have quite finished with that atlas, I should like to consult it also. Van Dieman's Land appears to have been swept off the face of the earth in this juvenile one of Nancy's, and she seems inclined to shed tears over its departure.

Perhaps she thinks it has really gone down below ! " " My goodness me, Hilda, how you do chatter ! " cries Daphne, sitting up and pushing back her wavy brown hair distractedly. " Do, for goodness' sake, be quiet for a little while ! " Hilda looks across at her sister, and nods smilingly. " All right," she says good-naturedly ; " I'll be as still as a mouse in a minute, when I have helped Phyllis with this phrase. Where is it, child ? Oh, I see. ' I have given the hat of my neighbour to your gardener ' ! There, that is another thing which always annoys me in French exercises ! They are always so very generous with other people's goods, and especially to their gardeners, if you notice. Why wouldn't they let this unfortunate neighbour keep his hat ? All right, Daph ; I shall be perfectly mute in two seconds.

I cannot imagine how you can be so stupid as to do lessons at all, when you are not obliged to. Lucky girls, you and Irene, to have finished your education." There is uninterrupted silence for about ten minutes after this, until Daphne closes her book with a snap. " There, I have finished ! " she cries. " And now, Hilda, you may rattle away as much as you please. MONA ST. CLxAIRE 4 I wonder what father docs want with Mona? What a time she is, to be sure ! I've a great mind to go and listen outside the study door ! " But at this moment the door opens, and Mona, a rather unusually animated expression upon her pale, spirituelle face, enters the room. " Come hither, thou of the dreamy blue eyes, and give an account of thy doings instanter ! " And, pouncing upon her sister, Daphne takes her by the shoulders, and gently presses her into a chair.

" Now, tell us, quick," she goes on ; " was he cross or amiable ? What did he want you for, and dicl he say anything about the Gordons' tennis party ? I'm simply dying to know whether we are going or not. To my certain knowledge, that invitation has been in the house five whole clays, and, in the ordinary course of things, he must have sent an answer. It is really more than human nature can stand to be kept in the dark on such matters as these. Now, Mona, hurry up ! Are we going or not ? " " I really don't know for certain ; but I think some of us may go. Father wanted to inquire into the state of our wardrobes ; and I fancy he guessed that with some of us they were not sans reproche. So he sent for me as being the quietest, because, he said, he was worried, and could not be annoyed with any exhi bitions of temper.

He thought Irene was out." " Well now, do go on, Mona. Why do you think there is only a chance of some of us going ? " " Well, because I couldn't say with truth that we all had suitable frocks which are also fit to wear at a large party ; and when I hinted that new ones would be advisable, father got awfully cross, and said we had all been frightfully extravagant this summer, and that nothing will induce him to spend another penny on us." " What a shame ! " says Hilda grmnblingly, " when he has such quantities of clothes himself. Only yesterday a new light overcoat came home from Poole's ; such a beauty ! I tried it on, and I am sure I looked charming in it, — much better than he ever will. It was not so very much too big for me — a little Avide, of course, and the sleeves a trifle long. But it's faced and lined with the most lovely silk.

Talk of extravagance ; father is extravagant, if you like ! " " Father must dress well, Hilda, for the credit of the family," says Irene reprovingly. " It would not look very well for the Hon. Hugh St. Claire to be seen walking about in a shabby coat. It doesn't matter what we girls wear while we are still in the school room, and that is chiefly why father won't hear of Daphne and me being introduced yet. The boys are such an expense, too, and Gerald seems always to ba getting into scrapes and wranting money. I can't think what he does with it all. There is poor Claude managing on about half what Gerald has, and yet he always looks nice, and never seems to want more than his regular allowance ; and, what is more, I believe he gives some of that to Gerald sometimes. I know Gerald often asks him."

" Yes ; it's a shame. But that is just like Gerald. He doesn't care a bit, so long as he has what he wants himself. He gives us such shabby presents on our birthdays, too — a sixpenny paper-cutter or a bottle of scent, costing the same large sum ; or, perhaps, as a tremendous extravagance, a shilling purse ! " "But now, Mona, do get on to the point. What is it that we require for this party, and possess not ? We can all surely muster a decent frock apiece ? " " No ; that's just it. You know very well, Daphne, that neither yours nor Hilda's Surah silk can be worn again in public after that ducking they got at the Wexley cricket match. The rain would not havo hurt them, of course ; but if you and Hilda will go leaning against wet trees, and plant yourselves care fully under places where the tent is leaking, or do any of the absurd things which you are always sure to clo, you must take the consequences !

" " Washing silks ought to wash ! " remarks Daphne crossly. " Well, so they do, dear, under ordinary treatment," puts in Irene. " Hush ! here is Fraulein ! " Instant and complete silence is the result of the last four words, and in another moment the door opens, to admit a large, sallow-complexioned woman, with hair of no particular colour, pale blue eyes, and hands and feet which, as Daphne was in the habit of putting it, would be worthy the acceptance of a megatherium. "Ach! what horrible noise you are making!" remarks this daughter of the Fatherland, seating herself at the table, and looking grimly round upon the six fair young faces of her pupils. " Daphne, has you finished your essay on the late Emperor Wilhelm ? Good ! Then now get your Go3the. AVe will read him for an hour." "An hour, Fraulein, on an evening like this?

Oh, I can't ! I hate Gosthe and all his flock ! Go3the is all very well Avhen mixed up with Gounod, as in ' Faust,' but Gosthe alone, and on a hot evening in August — oh !" And Daphne's white hands com plete her sentence for her. " Let Irene read with you, Fraiilein, if you must read with some one. I honestly believe the girl likes that kind of people. Bah ! it's lucky there are some who admire the stuff they write ! " "Stuff!" echoes Irene indignantly. "Daphne, you are really profane ; and, what is more, you make your self quits ridiculous when you get upon such subjects as these ! It is a good thing you know where to draw the line when talking before father. I can imagine the manner in which his lips would curl clown, and his nose would curl up, if he heard you airing such sentiments as these."

Daphne shrugs her shoulders. " AVell, I am going out," she remarks, addressing herself to Irene, " to sit under the walnut trees. It is stifling in here. I hope you and Fraiilein will enjoy your ' half-hour with the German poets.' Rather you than I ! Come, children " ; and, nodding her adieu to her twin sister, Daphne leaves the room, closely followed by her four younger sisters, who are only too thankful to escape from the thraldom of the schoolroom. Rapidly widemng the distance between herself and the house, the girl skims lightly across the lawn, and makes for a certain clump of walnut trees, under which is a broken-down but thoroughly comfortable old rustic seat. It is here that the girls, one and all, love to betake themselves when wanting to be quiet, or busy about any work which can be as conveniently clone out of doors as in ; here, too, where lessons would be learned and sometimes said ; and here always — weather per mitting, of course — might Irene of the broad, noble brow, and calm, kindly presence, be found early on a Sunday morning, with her younger sisters and brothers gathered round her, while in her simple, earnest fashion she would explain and descant upon the lessons taught by the epistle and gospel of the clay — doing her best, poor girl, to follow in her dead mother's footsteps, and obeying her dying behest, to fill her place, so far as possible, towards the httle crowd assembled round her bed, whose pale, tearful young faces were so quickly fading from her sight.

For, three years ago, when Irene was only fifteen, there had come a day Avhen the fair, fragile form, so devotedly loved by husband, children, and servants alike, had occupied that favourite seat under the wal nut trees for the last time ; and although the Hon. Hugh St. Claire had carefully shunned it, long, even, after the grass was green upon his lost wife's grave, his children, on the contrary, had always clung to the spot, which ever suggested loving thoughts and ten der memories of the dear mother now lying at rest beneath the sod. On this particular evening it is more for the quiet of the spot than anything else that Daphne has be taken herself to it. For Daphne wishes to read, and when that is the case all other matters, and likewise people, must be subservient to that wish ; and having, therefore, waved her hand in signification of dismissal to the younger members of the family who have followed her across the lawn, she seats herself deliber ately and comfortably, and, opening her book, com mences what she herself calls a "real, nice read."

Not for long, however. For presently there is a rush of many feet, and Hilda, Phyllis, and Nancy, closely followed by their two youngest brothers, present themselves somewhat suddenly before her. " Look here, Daph," cries Alick, excitedly brandish ing a boat-hook, " it's a beastly shame ; that's what it is ! Here were Cecil and I having a regular high old time of it in the punt, when these bothering girls must needs come and begin pestering us to take them on board ! " "AVell, upon my word!" exclaims Hilda, fairly gasping with indignation at this false charge ; " the impudence of that boy is really getting beyond all bounds ! We were all three standing on the bank, admiring the sunset, when the boys hailed us, and offered to take us for a cruise right up the mere and down again for a penny apiece.

Phyllis said it was too clear, and tried to bargain for two turns up and down, but they wouldn't hear of it. They are born Jews, those two ! Then, after a lot more haggling, they put ashore, and we had just got hold of the rope, when off they pushed again, and they pulled Nancy ever so far into the mud ; and the worst of it is, she has left one of her shoes sticking in it ! " " AVell, you didn't think we really wanted you ? " queries Cecil, with brotherly candour. " You wanted the threepence, though ! " promptly answers Nancy, who is standing on one leg, like a stork. " Oh, yes, of course ! But we meant to secure your fares, and then slip out of the engagement ! " " Ah ! gentlemanly conduct ! " remarks Daphne, resigning herself to circumstances and closing her book. " And where have you left the punt ?

" " Oh, she's all right. Cecil tied her up while I was trying to bring these girls to reason. You see, we had got Nancy's penny, and she wanted it back. I suppose that was why she hung on to the punt, and got dragged into the mud. AVe couldn't help that, now, could we ? " " You could help keeping the penny, couldn't you ? " inquires Daphne. " Yes ; and you might have looked for my shoe while you were tying up the punt ! " grumbles Nancy, as, holding the unshod foot in one hand, she darts little, sharp, reproachful looks at her youngest brother. " Oh, bother ! " cries Alick, turning on his heel ; "you girls always get crusty if there's a bit of fun going on. Here's your penny, Nance. AVe shan't offer such a cheap excursion another time, I can tell you. Come on, Cecil ; I've got a splendid plan in my head.

Red Indians, tomahawks, scalping, and all the rest of it ! I say " and the boy lowers his voice to a mysterious whisper, as, with heads close together in earnest conversation, they take their departure, on mischief and wickedness intent. " Those boys are plotting mischief, or my name is not Phyllis St. Claire ! " remarks the owner of that name emphatically. "They generally are plotting mischief," says Hilda placidly, " so your remark was scarcely needed, Phyllis. AVhy will they persist in giving such out rageously long holidays at public schools, I wonder? There ought to be a law against it ! Here have we been grinding away at our hateful lessons again for over a fortnight, with the maddening fact ever before us that those two wretched boys have even now another week left. Seven weeks, my gracious ! and we are only allowed a month !

AVhy were fathers ever invented, I wonder ? My goodness ! talk of the angel — here he comes ! " "No!" almost screams Nancy. And hopping des perately towards Daphne, she tucks the shoeless foot dexterously out of sight under her sister's skirts.

Chapter II Under The Walnut Trees Fn

the meantime a small, thinly-made gentleman -L is making his way across the lawn towards the group under the walnut trees, before which, in a few seconds, he stands, stroking his thin grey moustache, and gravely regarding his four daughters. " Ah ! " he says, addressing Daphne, " and where are Mona and Irene ? " " Irene is reading German with Fraiilein," an swer several voices together, " and Mona is — is some where about ! " " So I suppose," remarks the Hon. Hugh St. Claire, looking round at each of his daughters in turn. " But I presume some one of you, at least, knows her where abouts ; which, in that case, you can possibly describe more accurately than by telling me that she is ' some where about.' " A dead silence falls on all present, and each one looks nervously, first at the little severe figure standing before them, and then away — anywhere, so long as it is out of the range of those steely-grey eyes, which are watching them all so intently. '3 " I — I really clo not know where Mona is," presently says Daphne, a trifle independently.

" She was with us when we all came out, but she went off with Hilda and the others, and I have not seen her since." The steely eyes glance towards Hilda expectantly. Resigning herself, therefore, to the exigencies of the case with more cheerfulness than might be expected, that young lady says, — " I believe Mona has gone to read to Lucy Barnes, but I am not quite sure. She said she was going some time to-day, though, and I saw her going towards the copse about half an hour ago, with ' The Heir of Red cliffe ' tucked under her arm ; so I expect she has gone now, very likely." " Hum ! and who may Lucy Barnes be ? " " She's the laundress's child," says Nancy, coming to the rescue ; " and she has got something the matter with her back, and can't sit up. That is why Mona likes to go and read to her."

" Ah ! she is in the habit of going, then, is she ? " " Yes ; she goes pretty often," chimes in Phyllis, anxious not to be the only silent one. " Ah ! AVell, Mona is a strange girl ; but I suppose she knows her own business best. But look here, you had better let her know, some of you, that she is not to walk, ad libitum, into any cottage that she may feel disposed to enter. There are several cases of fever in the next village, and, though I have not heard of there being any here, one never knows, and I won't have Mona thrusting her head into all sorts of dangers and risks. She will want to be a hospital nurse next. There is no knowing what that girl would not want to do, when once she has set her mind on it ! But I won't have it, so some of you had better let her know it, and without loss of time."

And having worked himself into a fume, the little gentleman turns away and walks off, greatly to the relief of his daughters, more particularly Nancy, whose unshod foot is still reposing safely under her sister's skirts. Mr. St. Claire does not get very far, however, be fore a sudden thought seems to strike him, and, suddenly wheeling round, he returns to the discom fited quartette. " Ah, yes," he remarks (his usual manner of pre facing any particular announcement), "I really came out to inform you that ' The Woodlands ' is let at last — to a man with an only son, and a tutor, I be lieve. So, as these grounds adjoin those of ' The Woodlands,' I must request you to be a little more careful in your behaviour in future. Less noisy, and, in short, not to go tearing about the place hooting and shouting like a troop of wild Indians.

I hear that Colonel Temple is a literary man, like myself, and that it is most essential to his comfort that — that, in short, it is absolutely necessary that he should enjoy quiet and repose while pursuing his literary — er — in short, his literary pursuits. It is for this reason, so I am told, that, notwithstanding its reputation for being haunted (which, of course, we all know is so much nonsense), Colonel Temple has taken ' The AVoocllands.' They arrive to-day, I believe. And — er — you will probably be wishing to know what answer I have sent to the invitation for the Gordons' tennis party ? I have accepted for Irene, you, Daphne, Mona, and Hilda. AVe cannot inflict more than four of you upon our friends, though they were so good as to mention you all. By the bye, Nancy, you were inquiring the other clay the exact meaning of the word ' pandemonium,' and its derivative.

I came upon a book this morning which explains all that sort of thing. If you like to come into the study with me now, I will show it to you." Poor Nancy ! Her face is a study as she first opens, then shuts her mouth, with no satisfactory result. But at length, with crimson face, she falters forth, — " I — I tldnk I know the meaning of it now, father, thank you. But thank you very much for looking it out for me ! " Mr. St. Claire smiles blandly. " Well, I did not exactly ' look it out.' But having come upon the book, I thought I would see what sort of explanation they gave. Anyhow, you had better come and look at it ; there is nothing like reading a thing over several times to impress it on the memory. AVhy, what is the matter with the child ? Is she not well ? " But at this critical juncture, when Nancy is fervently wishing that the ground would open and swallow her, or some other catastrophe take place which would as successfully rid the earth of her presence, Daphne rises, regardless of entreating pulls at her skirts, and, taking her father by the arm, turns him round towards the west, to which he has previously had his back turned.

" Look, father ! Did you ever see such lovely opal tints ? AVhat a fine picture it would make ! See, there is a range of purple mountains and a blue, blue sea, with golden yellow sands ! " " Yes," says Hilda, coming up and following Daphne's lead, while a slight scuffling goes on be hind them. " Yes ; one can almost see the bathing machines on the golden yellow sands. Look at those delightful bays, and those rocks jutting out into the sea ! And — can it be ? — yes. I am sure that is a periwinkle lying reflectively on the edge of that pointed rock." " Hilda, how truly lamentably prosaic you are ! " cries her father, with a curling lip. " If you in herited a little more of my artistic nature it would be well for you ; but, alas ! you do not. Ah, yes ! " turning once more towards the brilliantly tinted AVest, and again adjusting his pince-nez, which he had taken off while reproving Hilda ; "if I had only kept up my painting, Daphne !

I have dabbled, I believe, in most arts, and may, I think, say, with all modesty of feeling, that I was once a fair — oh, yes ! — a very c fair painter. But one cannot find time for every thing; and this dictionary of dates and events which I am now compiling, and which, I take it, will be a far more complete thing than Haydn's when finished, — this work, I say, would be an irretrievable loss to the world were I now to give it up for what may even be considered" (waving his pince-nez towards the opal sky) " a higher branch of — of — in short, a higher art. Still — oh ! are you waiting, Nancy ? Very well ; we will go in at once, then." And Nancy, now accommodated with one of Phyllis's shoes in addition to her own solitary one, meekly folkrws her parent across the laAvn. "AVhat makes you shuffle so, child?" presently inquires Mr. St. Claire, as Nancy for the third time stoops to recover Phyllis's shoe, which has a most unhappy knack of slipping off every few steps or so.

" My shoe keeps coming off," explains Nancy briefly. " You ought to see that your shoes fit properly when you have them. Nothing annoys me more than hearing shuffling or creaking boots. You had better take them off directly you get in." At this moment the one man-servant of the estab lishment, who acts as both butler and valet to his master, steps forAvard with the intelligence that Mr. Drakes would be glad if Mr. St. Claire Avould see him for a feAV minutes. "Mr. Drakes?" echoes Mr. St. Claire sharply. "I am not aware that I have the pleasure of the ac quaintance of any Mr. Drakes." " No, sir. But I believe this is Drakes the butcher, sir." "Oh! Drakes the butcher, is it? AVell. send him into the dining-room to wait, and I'll send Miss St. Claire to him. I can't be bothered with seeing that kind of people.

Stay ; send Miss Irene to me first in here." And, entering the study as he speaks, Mr. St. Claire slams the door after him. In another moment Irene enters. " Now, look here, Irene," says the irate little gentle man, wheeling round from the window, before which he has been standing with his hands thrust into his pockets, " I can't stand this sort of thing ! It's most confoundedly disturbing to one's peace of mind to be perpetually bothered by a lot of paltry tradesmen. AVhy can't they serve us quietly or let it alone ? Yesterday it was the baker, now it is the butcher. If they choose to wait they will be paid, as a matter of course ; but I can't coin money. I don't suppose these men, any of them, knoAV what it is to be a second son with an income of about nothing a year, and a family of ten to provide for out of it, and with an extravagant son like Gerald at the head of it !

It always falls to the lot of the younger sons to have the largest families ! There is your Uncle John, Avhom, by the way, nobody thought would marry at all. There he is, I say, with one son ; and besides having sufficient income already to support a family of twenty, he will, of course, step into your grandfather's shoes Avhen he is gone, and his son after him ! Well, this has nothing to clo with Drakes the butcher, you will say. You can just go and say that he must Avait for his money as other people have to do. Yes, and tell him Avhile you are about it that that last leg of mutton he sent Avas a disgrace to any respectable butcher. Tell him not to send another like it, or it will go back quicker than it came." " Well, shall I say you will attend to it in two or three weeks ? " hazards Irene, still hesitating.

" You can say anything you like ; only, look here, I don't get my rents in for another month yet, and little enough they will be when they clo come. I don't know how everything is going to be paid ! Now, please let me be left in peace for a little while. I came in here with my brain teeming Avith ideas and subjects, and now, because Drakes the butcher chooses to come and annoy me, they are all fled — all fled ! " And seating himself at his writing-table in an at titude of despair, Mr. St. Claire groans aloud. But Irene, used to such scenes as this, does not evince any particular sorrow at the interruption of her father's literary ideas, and leaving the room, goes across the hall to the dining-room, where the man stands waiting for, and expecting to see, not the daughter, but the master of the house.