Kirkham's Find

Chapter I

" LIFE IS SO DULL " " It is not for man to rest in absolute contentment. He is born to hopes and aspirations, as the sparks fly upwards, unless he has brutified his nature, and quenched the spirit of immortality, which is his portion." — Southey. NANCY ! " " Well ! " " What's the good of sitting there saying ' well ' when you know I want you." A pretty girl with golden brown hair and laughing blue eyes, closed her book and rising leisurely from the log on which she had been seated, crossed the orchard and joined her sister under the apple tree. " What do you want ? " "Those hives are just full of honey, don't you think I might take some ? " " I'm sure I don't know. I thought the book said bees ought to have enough left to feed them through the winter." "But it's only November. There are six months till the winter."

" And how are you going to take the honey ?" " Smoke the bees or something. That wretched book only tells about frame hives. Where am I to get money for frame hives ? " " Oh ! gin cases do well enough, I think," said Nancy, cheerfully. " If you don't like them you can sell the honey and buy others." " That's just it, I want to know how I 'm to get the honey, and then, when I've got it, I want to know how I'm to sell it." 2 I Phœbe Marsden was taller than her sister, and, so said the little world of brothers and sisters, not nearly so pretty, in fact not pretty at all. She was older too, more than two years older, almost twenty-four, and the eldest of the family. The younger ones looked on her as quite an old maid, and she herself felt her life, as far as any happiness or pleasure to herself went, was nearly over.

She was nearly a quarter of a century old, a great age, so said her world, for a single woman, and she was inclined to think the world had no use for her. "Mother will buy it from you. You know she said she would." " Yes, I know. Poor mother," and Phœbe laughed scorn fully. " She'll give me about a penny a pound, and pay me when she has the money. It'll come dribbling in, and I'll feel myself a brute for taking it, especially after the boys have eaten all the honey." Nancy was a little afraid of the bees, but she saw Phœbe had a discontented fit on, and settling herself down on the grass at full length, prepared to listen, and if possible console. " It's about that I'm afraid. I told you before, Phœbe, it isn't the least good in the world trying to do anything for your self. Why can't you let things alone, like me ?

" " Because — because," there was almost a sob in the elder girl's voice, " what on earth is to become of us ? It seems to me we get poorer and poorer, father gets less and less to do, and the family expenses get heavier and heavier. Just look at those boys growing up." " I do look," said Nancy, "with sorrow." " Not a penny have I had this month." " Nor me. Look at those becoming shoes. Don't they look sweet," and she drew her petticoats up and looked down at her feet. Whether they were pretty feet or not and matched the rest of their dainty owner it was impossible to say, for those shoes were in the last stage of decrepitude, the leather showed wrinkled and cracked through the blacking, and there was a deplorable split close to the toe of the left foot. Nancy looked at them a little dolefully.

" Somebody will have to buy me a pair of new ones. Talk about ' travelling on your uppers ! ' And mother will sigh and look as distressed as if the bottom had fallen out of the world, and as for father — well, it's no good * I'd rather go bare foot than face father. He makes me feel as if I hadn't a right to exist at all." " I don't think we have," sighed the elder girl. " How can you take it so coolly, Nanny ? " " What is the good of worry, worry, worry ? Phœbe, you're just as bad as mother. It's the loveliest day — just look at the sunshine. I've actually hit on a book I haven't read more than once before. I don't think there's anything particular to do, or if there is, father isn't here to reprove me for idleness, so I'm just going to loaf and enjoy myself." " How can you ? I wish I could.

Do you really feel happy, Nancy ? " and her elder sister looked down on her wistfully. " Happy ? " Nancy lay back on the grass, and pillowing her head on her arms looked up at the patches of bright blue sky which peeped through the branches of the apple tree — " happy ? Why, of course I do. Don't you ? " " No," sighed the elder, " no, never." " You're older than me, I suppose," said Nancy, vainly trying to find some reason for this uncomfortable state of affairs. " I've always been old, I think," said her sister. " When I was quite a little girl I was always too old to do the nice things the rest of you did, and if you did anything wrong I got scolded because I was the eldest and ought to have looked after you better, or exerted a better influence, or something of that sort. Oh dear ! it's a mistake to be the eldest."

" I don't know, I believe I'd have been contented enough even if I had been in that unhappy position." " I believe you would. How is it, Nancy, you always manage to be cheerful, while I — well I " " You are not — no, indeed you're not. You're very much the other way just now." Phœbe cast another mournful glance at the gin cases that did duty as hives, then slipped down on to the grass beside her sister. She did not lie down though — there was nothing indo lent about Phœbe. " There seems nothing in the world to look forward to." " Don't look forward, then. I'm sure it's very nice here." " When father comes home to-night he's sure to be depressed ; we shall be told that he hasn't earned five pounds this week, and if this goes on " "Oh, Phœbe, don't bother ! What do you listen for if it makes you feel bad ?

" " I listen of course — I must. I know there's a certain amount of truth in it. So do you. His business is falling off; there are so many younger men coming on, and really I don't know that there is room in Ballarat for so many stock and station agents." " Oh, it will all come right in the end. Things always do." " You always say that, Nancy, but what will we do if they don't?" Nancy laughed. " Oh ! all men rub along somehow. Where's the good of worrying ? You'll spoil your beauty." " I haven't got any." Candidly speaking Nancy did not think her sister had. She did not admire her face herself, but she did not want to hurt her feelings, so she laughed gently and said — " What a goose you are to believe all the boys say ! I believe you think yourself quite hideous." Phœbe nodded her head and blinked her eyes in a vain attempt to keep the tears back.

It is cruelly hard on a young woman to have to acknowledge to herself that she is ugly. Beside Nancy's sparkling eyes and fresh complexion her sister's pale face looked sallow ; her dark hair, though abun dant, was dull in hue ; her heavy brown eyes were too deep set, and her whole face wore a sad and discontented air which alone would have spoiled far greater beauty than she possessed. Her figure was good and she was tall, and had she had but that place in the world which she was always longing for, there would have been many to call the eldest Miss Marsden a handsome woman. But at home, father, mother, sisters, brothers, all considered and frankly said she was plain — hopelessly plain, said her mother, who could not conceive of a good-looking woman over five feet five, which necessarily meant large hands and feet.

When Phœbe was eighteen she had already fixed her fate in her mind. " She will be an old maid," she told her only sister, plaintively. Mrs. Marsden was a woman who must confide in somebody, her husband for choice ; but, as she said, there were some things one could not tell a man, he would not understand, and so she overflowed to her sister on the rare occasions on which they met. " She'll never marry. I don't see that I can do anything with Phœbe." " I believe some men might call her handsome," said Mrs. Carrington, thoughtfully, " if she were well dressed." And that was the only commendation poor Phœbe had ever received, and even that she had never heard, and Mrs. Carring ton was away in England now, and had forgotten all about her. The family thought Phœbe plain, and she was plain ; it was almost cause and effect.

How could she be good-looking in the face of such adverse opinions ? Besides, even her aunt had said " if she were well dressed," and she never was well dressed and never likely to be. Nancy had more than a suspicion of Phœbe's struggle with her tears, and suddenly lifting up her head rolled herself into her sister's lap and put a caressing arm round her waist. " Phœbe, you old silly, I don't think you are ugly." " I — I— Nancy, it isn't that. I know I'm ugly, but I don't believe I'd mind so much if I was a man." " A man ! Phœbe ! " " Or could earn a decent living for myself. It's the same thing, isn't it ? " " But how could you earn your own living ? It's silly to talk like that." Phœbe looked down at the pretty face on her knee, and wound her fingers through the sunny curls with a sigh. " We can't live on for ever like this, you know.

Father and mother will die some day." " Phœbe ! " "Well, they will. Mother is forty-six and father is over fifty." " Oh, Phœbe ! " Nancy was shocked. Such conversation seemed to her brutal. The two girls somehow, though they had had the same training, could not help looking at life from diametric ally opposite points of view. " Yes, I know you are shocked," went on the elder, now thoroughly worked up, and bent on expounding her ideas, even though it was to no purpose, " but suppose father did die, what would become of us all ? " " It is cruel to talk about such things ! " " It would be still more cruel if they happened, which I hope they won't ; but still, suppose they do ? Stanley couldn't keep us and won't be able to keep himself for a good many years to come." "Oh, Stanley will get married as soon as ever he can afford to," said Nancy.

Stanley came between the two girls, and was, in his second-year laws, an authority to all the household on the ways of the world, for did he not live in Melbourne, and had he not for his allowance more money in one year than the girls had in four? Phœbe felt a little bitter towards her eldest brother. If he from his position outside the home circle, with his supposed knowledge of the world, had had a good word to say for her, had given her one word of praise, her position among her younger brothers and sisters would have been materially improved ; but he did no such thing. She did not happen to come up to his ideal of physical beauty, so he uncompromisingly pronounced her ugly ; she had views on various subjects, and had expressed her disapproval of his noble self very freely when he missed his second year — and he posed as one who should be admired — therefore he revenged himself as he had the power to do.

He explained to his mother that his eldest sister was just the sort old maids are made of. Fancy a fellow marrying a girl like that, plain as a pikestaff, and gives herself airs — faugh ! Nancy, in his opinion, was all right, some fellow was sure to come along and marry her, but Phœbe All of which had filtered through not only to the girls them selves, but to the rest of the family, and Phœbe's happiness was not increased thereby ; and even though she admitted the truth of the unkind speech, she did not love the brother who had made that speech the more for it. " Well, Stanley might manage to keep himself, but what would become of mother and the rest of us ? " " What nonsense you do talk ! " said Nancy, settling herself more comfortably on her sister's lap. " Father isn't going to die until he's quite old — when we are all grown up."

" Even then," began Phœbe, but her sister cut her short. " Then the boys will all be earning their own livings, and we will be all married." "You may — I suppose you will— and so will Nellie; but what's to become of Lydia and me ? " " You'll get married too." "The boys say I won't," said Phœbe, gloomily, "and they say Lydia is just like me. Poor little Lyd ! " " Oh ! what is the good of minding what the boys say ? Of course you will get married ! " " Who can I marry ? " asked the elder. " No one ever cared about me, no one ever does care for me. The few men we know all like talking to you and never take any notice of me." "We don't know any worth troubling our heads about." " There, I told you so !" with gloomy triumph. " If we don't know any men how are we to marry them ? " " Oh, I don't know.

Husbands come down the chimney for good girls, you know." " It's not fair ! it's not fair ! " burst out Phœbe, passionately ; and she pushed her sister aside, and rising to her feet began pacing up and down under the apple tree. " A woman's just a useless thing, to sit still and do nothing but look pretty until some man comes along and says, ' I think you're rather good looking, it pleases my majesty to marry you.' " "Don't you be afraid," a mocking man's voice came from behind, "there's no fear of any one accusing you of looking pretty, and still less of any fellow asking you to marry him." "Stanley!" Phœbe turned quickly with flushed face and glowing dark eyes, and for just that moment her brother thought that that face gave the lie to his words, but he did not acknowledge it even to himself.

" You needn't trouble your head, my dear," he said with brotherly candour, " no one's at all likely to marry you. You are just cut out for the old maid of the family." 'That's just exactly what I've been saying." It wasn't, but under the circumstances strict accuracy could hardly be ex pected. " And as I'm to be an old maid, I don't want to live a life like this always. I might as well have a little money or something to do in the world." " Something to do in the world — bah ! It's enough to make a fellow sick to hear a girl talk like that. You're as bad as the awful females at the shop." " Some of those awful females, as you call them," said Phœbe, mockingly, "have left you far and away behind. Look at Miss Wilson, a full-blown B.A., and you only in your second year ! " " Miss Wilson be hanged !

What does a girl have to do but grind ? " "I wish " " Oh yes, I know you. But let me tell you, all the decent fellows think like I do, and all the decent people too. Do you ever see a girl from good society up at the University ? No, of course you don't. Decent girls have more sense. I know the sort of girls I like, and there are lots and lots of chaps like me." " Come, then," said Nancy from her lowly position on the grass, " tell us what she is like." For Phœbe, as usual in an encounter with her brother, was silenced by his scornful insinu ations — insinuations which at the bottom of her heart she believed to be true : that she, being so much less attractive than the majority of girls, had no right to judge the world of women from her point of view. " Well, a girl ought to stick at home.

She oughtn't to bother her head about Latin and Greek. Who wants his wife to know anything about mathematics ? My wife's going to dance beautifully, and she must play and sing, and she might paint a bit — just enough to decorate the drawing-room. And then if she can cook a bit and sew a little, that's all I want." " Moderate, certainly." " She'll have to be pretty, of course. Ugly women ought to be shut up or smothered or something. Blest if I see what use they are." " What about ugly men ? " "Oh, a man don't matter; but I say, you girls, are you aware that I've come all the way from Melbourne, driven out the seven miles from Ballarat, and I'm as hungry as a hunter." "Are you, really ? " asked Nancy, laughing. " I suppose you didn't bring that perfect girl along with you to wait on you ? " " Don't be a fool, Nancy !

I never said you were ugly" — and the slight emphasis on the "you" did not escape the elder girl's notice — " I only said — and all fellows, decent fellows with any sense, think like me — that all this talk about higher education for women is all bunkum. No fellow likes a learned wife. Let the women stick at home and mind their houses. A nice girl's pretty sure to get married in the end ; what does she want spoiling herself earning her own living ? " " I was thinking about the girls who aren't nice," began Phœbe. " Hang the girls who aren't nice ! " " By all means, if you can do it," said Phœbe, politely sarcastic. " But I do believe there are some girls in the world who don't want to be only a reflection of a man. Wasn't the world made for women as well as men ? " But he could not understand her.

He was not a bad fellow at bottom, he meant kindly enough, but he was young and egotistical, and he was most firmly imbued with the idea that the world was most certainly made for men, and women should only look on it through men's eyes. Besides, his eldest sister irritated him. She was hopelessly plain, in his opinion she ought to accept that fact and sink quietly into the background. It was hard enough on him, he thought, to have a plain old maiden sister, without her asserting herself and even by inference lecturing him, who, if he was not good in the schools, was certainly one of the best athletes at the Melbourne University. " I wish you wouldn't talk such infernal rot," he said, " I'm sick of it ! You are only talking about things you don't understand in the least." " It is my life," thought Phœbe, but she did not put her thoughts into words.

He would not have understood. It was a woman's business to sit still and look pretty, and wait what Fate would bring her. If the future were good to her, then she should have praise and petting in plenty ; but if it were not, then she should be treated as if it were her own fault. But practically she could do nothing to alter her life. The thought weighed heavily on her this bright summer afternoon, and took the sunshine out of the day for her. " Well " — Stanley felt he had wasted quite enough time over a sister, even if she were a pretty one — " well, isn't one of you girls going to get a fellow something to eat ? " " Phœbe will, I daresay," said Nancy, lazily ; " she's just burning to show her usefulness in the world." " Well, here's a chance for her," said her brother, and Phœbe flashed round angrily.

He thought her ugly, he thought ugly girls ought to be put out of the way, he wounded her without the slightest thought— why, then, should she wait on him ? Angry words rose to her lips and died away there. What was the good of quarrelling? He didn't understand, not one of her little world understood her. She supposed there must be something radically wrong in her composition, evidently she was not like other girls. If Nancy would not get Stanley something to eat she must, and she went into the house with as good a grace as possible, which after all was not very good, and made him tell his mother that evening that Phœbe was more unbearably old-maidish than ever — a remark which in time reached the culprit's ears, and did not materially add to her peace of mind. Nancy did not stir. She understood her brother in one way far better than her sister did.

He would not like her any the less because she gave herself little airs and did not wait on him hand and foot, and she had none of Phœbe's earnest desire to do the right thing. As she had explained to her sister, she had no object in life save to get through it pleasantly, and this was just the right sort of afternoon for a loaf in the garden. Soon it would be too hot to be out of doors, but to-day, lying here on the grass under the apple tree, it was perfect. A high hedge hid the house from sight, and no one was likely to disturb her, therefore she closed her eyes and prepared to make the most of it. She couldn't read. The soft wind blew the leaves over and lost her place, it made her arm ache to hold up the book, the drowsy hum of the bees — poor Phœbe's bees — was in her ears, and from the paddock behind came the sound of children's voices, softened by the distance.

It made her feel sleepy. Those children were chasing the ducks again, she reflected, and wondered lazily if Phœbe would hear them and put a stop to it. Then her eyes closed, it was so pleasant here under the tree, and when Phœbe came back, after providing her brother with afternoon tea, she was fast asleep. Phœbe sighed discontentedly. She had had no tea herself, not that she did not like it, but because, except on rare occa sions, the family finances did not run to it, and now it was an added grievance that her confidante should be in the land of dreams. Then the children's voices caught her ear, the unlawful nature of their occupation struck her, and she went across the orchard to investigate. In was not in Phœbe to shirk any duty, however unpleasant, and Nancy was left alone to sleep her sleep out.

The shadows grew longer and longer. Mr. Marsden's buggy came home, and was received with much yelling and shouting by the children ; she was dimly conscious that the nursery tea bell ran furiously, and also conscious that it was her turn to look after that meal, but still she did not rouse herself. She was not called, it was all right. Phœbe, in her own ungracious fashion had probably taken her place, and Nancy settled herself comfortably to sleep again. Then a leaf or two dropped softly on to her face and on her ungloved hand, and she started up wide awake in a moment. " Good gracious ! What " " Fairly won, by Jove ! Miss Nancy — fairly won ! That's a pair of gloves to Ned." " It isn't ! I . How dare you ! " Nancy sat up rubbing her eyes, angry and startled, but not so angry but that she remembered to pull down her skirts over her feet to hide those worn-out shoes from the eyes of the two young men who were standing over her.

" Don't be cross, Miss Nancy," said the taller of the two ; " we've been waiting so long for you to wake, Ned here felt he had to try other means." " Then he— he " But Ned Kirkham looked down on her with grave, dark eyes, and she forgave him on the spot, or rather she expressed her belief there was nothing to forgive. " I know you wouldn't ; would you, now ? " " Of course not. Allan here dropped some leaves on your face. I wouldn't be so impertinent." " I knew it," said Nancy, in gleeful triumph. " There now, Mr. Morrison ! " " It's all very well to say, ' there now,' Miss Nancy, but you don't know what catastrophe might have happened if I hadn't been here to look after this young cousin of mine. You " "I've been asleep all the afternoon. One might as well do that as anything else, I think.

You never told me you were coming, else " " Else you would have stayed awake ? " " Oh, I didn't say that," said Nancy, who was wishing she had on her evening shoes, the only decent pair she had left, and felt it to be a real grievance that she had been caught in such shabby ones. " But how did you come ? Over the fence ? " Ned Kirkham nodded, and Allan Morrison asked— " Do you think the governor'll object ? " " He won't know," said Nancy, philosophically. " Now you are here, won't you sit down ? " Morrison, who was an older man than his cousin, Ned Kirk ham, by seven or eight years, accepted the invitation and took a seat close beside her, while the other man, folding his arms, leaned up against the apple tree in such a position that he could carefully scan the fair face beneath him. She blushed a little under his steadfast gaze, but it did not discommode her much.

"I am sorry to say," began Morrison, gravely, " there's been a sad catastrophe." " I thought your presence averted that," said Nancy, mischievously. " I ? I wasn't there," said Morrison, who had completely forgotten the chaff of a few minutes ago, " I wish to the Lord I had been. Ned and I were burning off at the other end of our place, and the confounded jumbucks got into your wheat." " Your sheep in our wheat ! Oh, goodness gracious me ! " " It is ' oh, goodness gracious me ! ' with a vengeance. Looks as if about forty thousand of them had been revelling in it. There were only fifty really, but — but -" " They had a real good time," said Nancy, smiling. " They did indeed. And your kids, when they drove them out " " Had a real good time too. Yes, I know what our children are when they get the chance of being useful."

" Well, they did trample the crop a good deal," said Morrison ; " but the question is, what is to be done ? Ned and I thought we'd better come over and see when your father will be at home. We must offer him compensation, you know." " For the boys trampling the wheat? " " If the sheep hadn't been there the boys wouldn't have gone after them." " And if the fence had been properly mended, as it should have been, the sheep wouldn't have trespassed at all. What are you going to do ? See my respected parent, and abuse him for not having his fence in proper repair ? " " Well, you know," said Morrison, who was a Scotchman, and believed in his own rights, " that fence is just rotten." " I know, I know. It's tumbling to pieces and we ought to have a new one, and we have not a penny piece to do it with.

Oh I've heard the story over and over again, and I'll hear it again to-night." " Will your father be very wrath, Miss Nancy ? " asked Kirkham. " I don't know that it will make much difference," said Nancy, with a little grimace, " he's always cross. I don't know why we mind telling him about any fresh disaster. We ought not to really, because if the bottom had fallen out of the world bodily he couldn't be worse than he was this morning." "And you suffer. Poor little girl !" said Morrison, sympathetically, but the tender look that came from Kirkham's brown eyes went straight to her heart. " After all, I'm not the one to be pitied," she said. " I retire and leave mother or Phœbe to bear the brunt. Phœbe is the one who takes things to heart." " Don't you ? " "No, of course not. Where is the good of worrying?