Fickle Phyllis [A novel.] Edited by G. D'Esterre

Chapter I

A COUNTRY parsonage, scene beloved of Troll ope wherein to weave placid stories of good and evil. How often, poring over a few worn volumes of his. have I compared his heroines' lives with my7 own ! A poor parson, a poorer glebe ! What a lot ! what a prospect for his children ! The village pastor is a man of education, perhaps has taken honours at his Alma Mater, and is generally a gentleman, and with the appearance of one to keep up, too often on a pitiful stipend reduced still further by agri cultural depiession. Fortunately7, no one could accuse my father of studying the pomps and vanities too much, for he was hard put to it to exist at all. I can see him now : he is short, and, ifl must speak plainly7, fat, with a red face over grown by straggling grayish stubble. He used to shave once, and, I have been told, was con sidered a handsome man ; but the lethargic influences of country air, food, not much to do and no inclination to do it, have told upon his B appearance and energy.

His clothes stained, marked, and greasy7, he potters about feebly in the garden, more to kill time than weeds, judging from the poor results his scratching the ground pro duces. AVhat is there in country life that ages and rusts a man so effectually? Since then I have seen many a one in towns,' much older, but braced up, padded, bewigged, and rouged, who looked certainly less than half his age. He eats, drinks, and sleeps regularly like an animal, and with little more intelligence, for I am very sure he has not had an original idea in his head since I can remem ber. His sermons are an olla podrida of texts, Tillotson, Blair, and Paley ; and had his flock ever read anything beyond old Moore and Zadkiel, they must have doubted the originality of his matter. Poor old man ! it was a mercy for us he did not take to drink, or our wants, badly as they were supplied, would have fared even worse.

We never exchanged confidences except about butcher, baker, and candlestick-maker when money ran short — a very frequent occurrence — and excuses and promises had to be made. I believe really bis parishioners pitied him if they had any care beyond filling their own stomachs. Fancy the pity of a clodhopper, a chawbacon ! They were the usual run of dull heavy rustics, slow to move and very poor, while their ambitions were centred in their pigs. My7 elder sister Barbara, poor washed-out, soul less creature, used to dose them in their ailments, and make their lives a misery to them with religion when they were well. Needless to say, I never wasted time or money on them. Society there was none, except Lady AVoldmarsh at the Hall, a grim, penurious old woman, who looked on us with contempt, and only tolerated our shabby clothes and dutiful calls because we were the parson's daughters.

AAdien she had visitors, mostly one or two bachelor friends whom her son brought down for the shooting, my father was never invited to dinner, and Phyllis — moi qui vousparle — and Barbara took good care never to show their faces, mindful of a chilling reception and a half-veiled snub on a former occasion. These friends seldom appeared in the family pew, but, when they did, I looked on them as beings from another Avorld. I once bought out of my few shillings a novel of" Ouida's, " in Slowford, the small country town near us. Before I had finished it, my sister pounced on it and destroyed it ruthlessly. She was horrified ; and, with her lights, I don't w-onder ; for I would defy a Russian censor to purge "Ouida" of wickedness. These men, with their pale, clear-cut, aristocratic, not to say dissipated-looking, faces reminded me of her heroes ; and I paid more attention to them than the service, with the wheezy droning of the clerk and the long-winded periods ofmy father.

I was sunk in apathy7, I had no restless longings. I knew of nothing better, nothing to look forward to, and consequently took my life with indifference. Men, except the village boors aud the vulgar Slowford shop-assistants, who were none too attentive to our poverty, I knew nothing of. I did some times meet a curate from a neighbouring vil lage, it is true : a poor invertebrate specimen of humanity, whom my sister used to fairly worship. I always thought she had designs on him as a future husband ; but, if she had, her hopes must have been faint, for one day, when I sug gested it, she held up her hands with pious horror, in the attitude of a stainedwindow saint, and I thought she was going to have a fit. " Child," she exclaimed, " you shock me ! I only look on Mr. Graham as a help to my footsteps in trying to do what little good I can ; and such an idea is too unwomanly ever to have entered my mind."

" Child " I thought was impertinent, as she was only a year and a half older than I was; but I didn't care to discuss the question further when she began to preach, as she did at every available opening, for I had no sympathy with her pursuits, or she with mine. I never could see that a woman ought to devote her life to wading through sodden lanes, lookinga fright in a hideous macintosh and goloshes, carrying heavy7 baskets — these last laden with little packets of tea and sugar, the bribes before admin istering a tract or a chapter, or some spiritual consolation which showed conclusively that unless the poor creatures left off everything that made their wretched lives at all endurable in this world, they were sure of damnation in the next. Barbara persuaded me one day, when a severe influenza had crushed even her martyr-like spirit, to go and visit a poor woman whose husband was ill.

I reached the cottage, and, while knocking, heard some "Scriptural" expressions that my sister had certainly never taught him. AVhen the door opened I encountered an odour that was indescri bable, but I persevered and went in. The place was like a pigsty, and I hurriedly exclaimed, " My good woman, why7 don't you clean your cottage . It is enough to breed a fever !" The good woman scowled, and muttered something under her breath about " saucy hussies." Her husband looked threatening, and the fearful smell was overcoming me fast. The door was open, and I fled precipi tately, and thus ended my first and last attempt at district visiting. Can you blame me ? I felt unwell even after I got home, and mentally deno minated Barbara an idiot when I thought of her sitting calmly in that reeking den, casting pearls before such swine in that small meek voice of hers.

My mother died before I can remember, leaving us but one possession — a good education. I was twenty-three, a little above medium height, with a well-developed figure, too large in the waist for anything but the country ; but I hardly knew what corsets were. My hair was a mass of deep gold, seldom tidy, and my face was small, well shaped, and piquant. So I have been told since, for, never having known flattery or admiration, I never appraised my7 good points, little knowing how marketable they were to become ; and I think my only consciousness of being at all attractive was that when my father sometimes had one or two musty old fogies to see him — for he had been a man of letters — I noticed that they alway7s pre ferred my society to Barbara's. She had such a patient, resigned, crushed look, and, with her parochial talk and general sanctimonious air, was always a wet blanket, but especially so on the rare occasions of a school-treat.

However, provided the children could gorge themselves with seed cake and milk until their red faces were puffed out and shiny, they did not seem to mind the infliction. AVoldby, our village, was picturesque and healthy, and in this Arcadia the maidens, coy and cautious, seldom engaged in exciting love affairs ; and there was no public-house, so it bade fair to become a veritable Sleepy Hollow. However, I was not to be the Rip Van AVinkle.

Chapter II

In this fashion our lives passed dreamily along. It could not be called lotus-eating, although for my part I did as little as possible that was use ful, for there was uo delicious sense of languor. I wish to " nothing extenuate," but beyond being lazy and capricious in temper towards my long suffering sister, mine was a negative state of being. I simply existed like a jelly-fish. But a fairy godmother, in the shape of a rich widowed aunt, was to appear on the scene. One day my father, in a time of more than usual monetary embarrassment, wrote to his sister-in-law, Mrs. Stapylton, for assistance. They had been estranged for years, mainly, I believe, on account of some conscientiousness on his part, for, to give him his due, I believe my father was a fair aver age Christian before the pressure of circumstances compelled him to take more thought for the mor row than he taught his hearers to do.

She replied to the effect that, while her own means only just kept pace with her expenditure (this I found out afterwards meant she was con siderably in debt), she would lighten his burdens by taking one of us off his hands. This intelligence he communicated to us in solemn conclave after breakfast. I say solemn advisedly, for he could never divest himself of the pompous manner he had acquired in the pulpit, and would harangue an importunate milkman as if he were a lost sheep to be won back to the fold. Barbara, as the elder, painfully pondered the question first, as to whether she would be more useful in another sphere, and more to that effect, but finally decided to stick to her duties and her cm-ate. If one could have read her inmost thoughts, doubtless she would have been found preferring the substance ofthe consumptive curate to the shadows of possible suitors in the clouds.

I hope I did not do her an injustice : I really believe she meant and felt a good deal of what she preached, but it seems to me so indisputably woman's metier to get married. Look at Eve, for instance ; she set us the example wheu she had so little choice before her. Always and particularly excepting the genus blue-stocking and woman's rights advocates. I have a peculiarly aggravated specimen of the former in my thoughts just now. Algebra is A B C to her, and I verily believe she could give Euclid a bad quarter of an hour ; but love, kisses, communion of souls! Faugh! Newn ham and Girton, avaunt ! And she is a good^ar.t, too, which covers a multitude of sins. For myself, although the unknown is always alarming, I feared no difficulties, and jumped — I actually sprang from my chair — at the offer.

After all, ignorance is bliss, and I knew nothing of lady-helps, companions, governesses, and drudges generally7 and their sorrows — how should I? — and I was only too glad to exchange the dead level of my life for the worst alternative I could picture. To cut matters short, the parental exchequer, aided by a cheque from my aunt, fitted me out in the latest fashions as understood by the only dressmaker in Slowford. There had been two in the place ; but one had retired, broken-hearted, at the non-appreciation of her costumes, which was unkind, as they were not more than a year behind the fashion. Also, many of her customers never by any possibility realised how a dressmaker could presume to want payment. I think my father was one of these last, as he always made such a grievance of having her bills to pay that I sus pected he wanted and used the money for some thing more pressing.

Be that as it may, it is easy7 to understand from this description, first, what a dead-and-alive town it was, and, second, what a gawky creature I must have looked. The working man in his Sunday garments is not a thing of beauty and a joy for ever, and I, who had been allowed to run about unchecked until I was thoroughly developed like any milk maid, must have looked as bad or worse in dresses that only fitted where they happened to touch. A country dressmaker of the common or garden type would robe you in sea-green if you had a mud-coloured complexion, and for fit, well, it goes without saying she would ruin the proportions of the Venus of Milo. As for me, the tout ensemble must have been startling; but, badly dressed, gauche, green, as I knew myself to be, I wouldn't own to feeling nervous or self-conscious.

Perhaps it was the unwonted excitement or the lamentations of Barbara, who, because I w7as her younger sister, seemed to consider me a proper subject for any amount of tears and prayers, the latter full of re ferences to the one ewe lamb, which struck me as inappropriate, unless she had married the curate on the sly. I felt as if I were going to begin life at last, and I experienced that glorious sensation of the blood coursing through your veins and tingling in your fingers, that comes when you are young, and have something to look forward to, it may be to battle with. I had to endure many an exordium from my father as to my future conduct and the pro prieties to be observed, and I will say that, for a parson and a humbug, too, he gave me veiy sound advice. In after years I could have taught him something.

The day for my departure came, and we drove into Slowford, where at the little station Barbara again made herself ridiculous by weeping over me in a maudlin fashion, and I think my father was nearly borrowing half-a-sovereign out of the money he had provided me with, but he restrained himself, poor soul ! His last words were : " Phyllis, my dear, never forget that you are the representative of the Stapyltons, and it is my earnest prayer that you will always be worthy of the good old name in all your words and thoughts and actions."

Chapter III

I HAD noticed a gentleman, who seemed inter ested in my movements, young and smiling, manly-looking, too, so different from Barbara's curate. AVhile I was w7aiting at Linewood Junc tion, feeling lonely, and with my spirits beginning to sink, a pleasant laughing voice fell on my ear, and turning round I saw him, Raising his hat, he said with a smile : " Pardon me : can I be of any assistance with y7our luggage ? These porters are always so inattentive." I smiled back at him — who could have helped it % — and answered : " Thank you, but I don't like to trouble a complete stranger." " 0, 1 assure you it is a pleasure," he replied ; " and if I may travel with you, we need not remain strangers long." I thought of my third-class ticket, but he had such a happy pleasant look, it overcame my scruples.

The minutes soon passed, and behold us seated together, with a pile of periodicals he had bought with that extravagant liberality which is so delightful a part of man's behaviour to a woman — before marriage — and usually so conspicuous by its absence afterwards. I was longing to feast on illustrated papers and maga zines, which I had never seen before, nor even heard of; but his conversation, after Barbara's whining piety7 and my father's inflated lypocrisy, so in terested me, that I never regretted them for a moment. At first we sat vis-a-vis ; soon he came and sat beside me, near, very near, I thought, but it didn't seem at all unpleasant, and surely he was the best judge of how to behave. His winning manner encouraged me to talk, and I was soon chatting away freely, and questioning him about himself quite merrily.

AVe were alone, and he asked my permission to smoke, but his cigarette was soon neglected, and died out. He was so amusing ; I laughed more than I ever had done before, except once, when Barbara's own particular protegee, a little girl at AVoldby, whom she had washed and bedecked for a tea-fight, fell into the horse-pond. We talked more and more confidentially, while he seemed to take almost a tender interest in me. I enjoyed it, the sensation was so novel, and — shall I confess it to myself? — I could have kissed him, he was so nice. Presently, drawing out a pretty enamelled card-case, he asked me to ex change cards, and hoped we should meet again. I could not resist just peeping at his name, " Mr. Frank Denzil ;" but, mindful that cards of my own I had never had or required, I drew myself up, and replied frigidly that I must not do so on so short an acquaintance.

He seemed disappointed, and I felt sorry after all his kindness, and I tried to make myself agreeable. I think I succeeded, for, when his destination came, he kissed my hand and asked if he might accompany me further. I said, " Of course not!" but I should have dearly liked him to all the same, and who could have been offended with him ? I know I couldn't. I do believe if he had asked me to marry him then and there, I should have said " Yes." I reached Blackborough, where my aunt lived, late, tired and depressed. The look of the town, with a murky fog prevailing, was not calculated to cheer me. Never having seen my aunt, I waited anxiously for some time on the platform, and was stared at impertinently by several men. There was a red lurid glare from some ironworks near the station, for it was a large manufacturing town.

The lights, the fog, and the bustle con fused me — engines shrieking and snorting, hoarse porters wheeling piles of luggage, and bellowing " By y're leave !" — it seemed to me a pandemo nium. I waited in vain, and at length took courage and a cab. It was a long, dirty, gloomy drive, but at last I reached the house. I rang and asked to see Mrs. Stapylton. The page was showing me to the drawing-room, but I could hear voices, laughter, and music above us ; so I asked if she was engaged. He replied that it was her " hev'ning, 'er hev'ning at 'ome." I asked if I could see her privately, and was shown. I had nearly said shot like a sack of coals, into a little dark ante-room, where the boy turned up the gas, and left me. Ring and rat-tat succeeded one another, and as people came in I caught now and again whispered remarks, which would have interested my aunt considerably if she could have heard them.

Deliciously frank and candid criticism on her friends and her menage; most of it true, too, I afterwards found out. Presently she came down. She almost shrieked when she saw me. " Goodness gracious, child, is that you . AA7hat ever have you got on V I resented this reception — what girl wouldn't ? — and replied coldly7 and pointedly7, " Clothes, aunt." " Well," she said, " you can't come into the drawing-room that fright." " I'm sure I don't want to," I replied crossly. " I have been travelling all day7, and I am tired and hungry." " Dear me, yes," she said, " I forgot ; I'll ring for Morrison. Come here, and let me have a good look at you." To have a shrewd, keen, if kindly old face, with steady gray ey7es, talcing stock of you through a gold-rimmed pince-nez, is decidedly embarrassing; but I did not quail.

She seemed very satisfied with her scrutiny, for her face relaxed into a smile. She gave me a kiss, and said I was like my mother. " Get some tea," she added, " and Morrison will show you your room afterwards. Good-night," and she was gone. Morrison came and attended to my comfort, and soon after I went to bed ; but, tired as I was, I did not sleep much between the excitement and the noise down-stairs. A fine tenor voice was singing " My Queen," and I fell asleep at last, half dreaming, and half shyly wishing the singer was Mr. Denzil, my hero of the journey7, and that the song was addressed to me. You see, it was my first attempt at a romance. I was up in good time the next morning, and, throwing open my window, was greeted w-ith a shower of blacks. I was down-stairs long before my aunt, and, when she did appear, she looked jaded and weary.

"Ah, Phyllis," she said, as she caught sight of me, " good-morning ! How fresh and well you look !" I could not return the compliment, so I kept silence, and shook hands. She sat down, and began breakfast, looking over her letters the while. She tore one open, scanned it through, and tossed it aside with a muttered exclamation. Was it possible 1 did I hear my aunt swear? I was not sure, but she coughed, drank some tea, and explained to me her nervous system was out of order. Brandy seemed good for her nervous system, judging from the visits her cup made to the liqueur stand. Breakfast over, she went out, leaving me alone with several little things to do which took up most ofmy time. AVhen I had any to spare I would talk with Morrison, who was cook, house keeper, and head ofthe staff of three.

The others were Smithson, house and parlour maid combined, and last, but not least, the boy in buttons, for appearance' sake. This was the ruling passion and the keynote of my aunt's life. My uncle, a rising young doctor, had married below his station for the money7 she had as the eldest daughter ; and on his death, wdiich happened in a few years, the better people were inclined to drop her. She had, therefore, a lifelong struggle to maintain her position and, womanlike, would have made any7 sacrifice to do so. Foolish and extravagant as she w-as, I could not blame her, for she certainly managed to collect all that was brightest and liveliest of the heavy society of the place. Not that she troubled about any of the church dignitaries and their wives, who pay ceremonious calls, and sit with stately solemnity7, uttering more or less amiable platitudes.

I have been told by an intime, a traitor in the camp, that even these the very Pharisees themselves do congregate in their own particular coteries, and slander then neighbours, yTea, as eagerly as any of the uncir cumcised. Artistic and musical people she sought after ; shoddy even she admitted, if it were rich and amusing. The result was that, if her visitors did criticise, they came ; aud that was all she asked. Social recognition is as essential as the air they breathe to many women, and she was one of them.

Chapter IV

A few days passed like this, varied with long talks, during which she studied me as attentively7 as a Newmarket trainer watches a likely colt. She always kept me occupied. " Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do," she used to quote, with a malicious twinkle in her eye, and as the novelty had not worn off, I obey7ed willingly enough. One morning, after she had given her orders for the day7, she called me into the draw ing-room, and began as follows : "Now, Phyllis, I flatter myself I am a good judge of character, and I believe, from the con versations we have had, that you have as much common sense as most girls." " If I have, I don't know where I got it ! Not at AVoldby," I replied laughingly, " Well, I am going to talk to you seriously. and for your good, so pay atteution," she said gravely.

" AVhen I first offered one of you girls a home, I meant you to come as a companion, to dust my chiua, write my letters, and read to me, but since I have seen you, I have altered my in tentions. I believe you can make a good match." " AVhat do you mean, aunt ?" I said, pretending innocence. " Nonsense, child ! You know what I mean well enough. A good husband, plenty of money, carriages, new dresses, diamonds, visits to Scar borough and Switzerland, Torquay and the Tyrol, everything heart can wish for." " But I don't want to get married. What should I do with a husband?" " AVhy, you silly child, the same as any one else, I suppose — most likely plague and bother his life out." " But he might be old and ugly, and I should not care for him." " That doesn't matter, if he only has plenty of money, and in return your face will be your fortune, and one that any7body might be proud to have."

" 0," I said mournfully, " then I am to be sold ?" " Phyllis, if I were more of a humbug than I am, I should conceal this from you by smothering it in fine phrases and false sentiments. As it is, I tell you plainly I am offering you, on the one hand, a life of pleasure, enjoyment — all the happiness that wealth can give, and, on the other, Woldby and stagnation — a living death ! You c are old enough to choose for yourself: you can't be so blind as not to see the advantages of having a rich husband. There is self-reliance in your face, and determination in the carriage of your head." Of course, Mephistopheles got his way — nay, it only took a mortal Faust to persuade Marguerite astray7. My mind was soon made up ; I thanked my aunt warmly, but with composure, and accepted her offers of assistance.

The end of a week spent in the house found me supplied with several new dresses, which, if beneath the contempt of a Bond Street couturiere, were the correct thing in Black borough. During this time I received a long and tearful epistle from Barbara, to which I made answer as follows : " My dear Bab, — Of course I am glad to have your letter, and to hear all the news. I have not been to church yet, as aunt says my clothes are countrified ; but as I have said my prayers every night and morning, I am not yet the heathen you seem to think me. In reply to your questions, I do not miss home at all, and I shouldn't care if I never came back again. Aunt is very kind to me, and does not have family prayers, for which I am devoutly thankful. I have no news at present, bo, with love, believe me your affectionate sister, Phyllis.

" P.S. — If you would put fewer texts in your letters, I should like them much better." This was my7 father's letter : "My dear Daughter, — I was gratified to hear of your safe arrival, for which, and your bodily and spiritual welfare, I have never ceased to pray. I trust, Phyllis, you will realise the heavy responsibility that is cast upon each and all of us for our deeds in this world, and that you will so order your dailylife as not only to be a worthy daughter of mine, but also of our holy mother Church. Visit the sick, feed the poor, do whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, and it shall be accounted unto you for righteousness. My grateful remembrances to your good aunt, and you might hint to her that Moggs and Stubbs have not paid their tithes yet, thus causing me serious inconvenience. Point out to her the application of that noble verse, 'Cast thy bread upon the waters, and it shall return to thee after many days.' " And now, my dear child, that Heaven may shower every blessing, temporal and spiritual, on your head is the earnest prayer of your affection father, Jonas Stapylton."

Moggs and Stubbs, I remembered perfectly w ell, had paid their tithes. After this my life became a whirl of excitement after the placid monotony of Woldby. Drives, shopping, calls, at-homes, small dances, musical evenings, card parties, and all the other means in vogue of killing time, followed in rapid succession. Books, too, how I revelled in them ! My aunt was anxious that I should not appear ignorant, and put me through a course of" Ouida " and Miss Braddon, whose books she got from the library. Hours have I sat, charmed, fascinated, and loth to tear myself away, even for the gaieties that were so new and pleasant. Amongst my aunt's circle of friends scandal was rife. I hardly understood it at first, but I soon discovered what a pleasure it was to hear and repeat anything ill-natured about any girl whom I thought outshone me in dress or appearance.

I went further than this, and occasionally invented some malicious on dit, which was always received with great gusto. Verily, the other girls had not much cause to love me if they knew all. They did not, as it was, for I was learning to use a pair of laughing, dancing eyes, and I could attract a man from the other side of the room, and keep him willingly enchained. I must have been a born coquette, for I took to flirtation like a duck to water. Had it not been that many of the young men were very steadygoing, been engaged-half-their-life style, I should have made many more conquests, but, as it was, I could tempt them from their allegiance. I was often amused, looking from the little group of men who were generally at my beck and call, to see the black looks of their neglected partners. They would talk at me sometimes to one another.