My Suitors

Front matter

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Chapter I. My Father's Death

To begin my simple story, I must go back a few years, to the time when I was sixteen years of age and to my great grief lost my father. I cannot remember much about my mother. She died when I was a little toddling mite of two, and after that I became the pet and play fellow of my kind and indulgent father. You will laugh, dear reader, at the absurdity of calling my father my play fellow ; nevertheless it was so, for he would play hours with me at any childish games, such as " Hunt the Slipper," " Blind Man's Buff," " Puss in the Corner," and various others too numerous to mention, and seemed to enjoy it with as much relish as I did myself. Of course I always won the game and had the laugh against my dear old dad, while he pretended to be sorely distressed at always being beaten by such a little minx as myself, as he playfully called me.

So that at sixteen I was a great romp, or what is more vulgarly called " a tomboy." A My father was a country doctor. I was his only child, and the consequence was I was petted and spoiled beyond measure. We lived in a large village with a fairly good " Ladies' School" in it, which I attended as daily boarder. But oftentimes I made excuses and begged my father to allow me to stay away and have a drive with him instead of going to school and being shut up in a stuffy old schoolroom, as I usually called it, and he, dear old man, generally yielded to my whims, so that at the time my story begins I was a great dunce for my age. My father had often talked of sending me to a school farther from home, to finish my education, but I had always silenced him on the subject by declaring I would not go.

But to-night he seems very serious, and tells me I must go, that he cannot possibly give in to me any longer, for I am already growing up a great dunce, and it is high time for me to go to a good finishing school and learn something, and in after life I should feel very thank ful that he had been firm enough to make me go. " You dread it now," he continued, " but when you get there, and meet young companions about your own age, you will like it, and soon find they are better company for you than an old fogie like I am." I hotly answered that he was not " an old fogie," and I would not allow him to call himself such names, and that I did not wish for better companionship than his, and that I was sure I should never feel thankful to him for sending me away. " Tut, tut, my dear," he cried, " it is my opinion you will think differently in a very short time, and you really must be subservient to my wishes in regard to this.

I have humoured you too long. I was only noticing this morning what a tall, long-legged girl you were getting. You ought by rights to have nearly finished school, and I don't know when you will finish if I keep sending you to Miss Parkes, for I am sure you do not learn much there, although we cannot blame her, for it is my fault for allowing you to stay away so much. But we will not say anything more about it to-night; it is nearly nine o'clock, and quite time for young folks like you to be in bed, and I hope to-morrow morning you will look at it in the same light as I do, and come and tell me you are ready to go cheerfully and willingly whenever I like to send you." Ah me ! how little did we think what would happen before the morning dawned. I rose with pouting lips and fetched my candle, and returned to give him a good-night kiss, and he held me longer than usual in his arms and looked at me wistfully, with tears in his eyes, as he said, " Ah, my darling, my only treasure, I fain would keep you always with me, but I must act my part faithfully as your only living parent.

God knows it is only for your future good I think of sending you from me, and now, my loved child, good-night, and let not the thoughts of school keep you awake." I went quietly from the room, but I could not say good night to him, for great sobs choked my utterance, his words affected me so much, he uttered them in such a serious manner. I never remember seeing him so earnest before. I got into bed, but it seemed a long, weary time before I could go to sleep. I tossed and turned and tried to feel resigned to the thoughts of leaving home, and then I could picture to myself my poor father at home alone, without his little comforter, as he sometimes called me ; and very likely I should meet with disagreeable companions, who would laugh at my backwardness, and I could not see that it would be for the best, for what was the use of my father giving me such an education 1 Surely I was as well educated as most young ladies in my position — -what was the use of it all 1 It was very well for governesses and those obliged to earn their living by teaching, but I should never be in that unhappy position, and I was sure I could learn quite enough at Miss Parkes's. It seemed to me incon ceivable that my father should wish to send me away when I felt quite sure we should both be made unhappy by it.

At length I fell into a peaceful slumber, but it did not seem long ere I was rudely awakened by sounds as of someone about the house. It cannot be my father called up to see a patient, I thought, for I knew he would not be in the part of the houte whence the noise proceeded, as his surgery was quite in a diffeient direction, and he had stairs leading from his bedroom to the surgery, and every one who came to see him professionally always rang at the surgery door, so that no one in the house was disturbed by any noise whatever. It must be burglars, I thought, and I held my breath and listened intently for some moments. Yes, I was sure I was not mistaken in distinctly hearing footsteps hurry ing to and fro in the regions below. I could not make it out, for surely if it weie burglars they would step with more cautious footsteps.

I felt afraid to go outside my room and call, so, as the servants' room adjoined mine, I faintly tapped at the wall. I did not receive any response, so I tapped louder, and still did not get any answer, and still the footsteps sounded below. So at last I summoned up courage to go outside my door and call the servants. We kept two servants, Jane the cook and Mary the housemaid. Mary had been my nurse, and she stayed on as housemaid when I became too old to require a nurse. I called several times, but received no answer, so I walked along the landing and leaned over the baluster and listened, t'nd I could faintly hear voices in the direction of my father's study, and now and then a slight moan, as though someone was in pain. I was so frightened that I screamed at the top of my voice, aud a moment later Mary came running upstairs with a light in her hand and looking very scared.

"Oh, Mary," I cried passionately, '-tell me directly what is the matter, and who it is about the house, and what is the moaning noise I hear." " Oh dear, miss, how you did frighten me ! " answered Mary, ignoring my questions; "do please, there's a dear, go back to bed again. You will catch your death of cold standing in this draughty landing with nothing on." " I won't budge an inch till you tell me what the tramping noises and the moaning sound means." But she did not answer me, and I could see she was trying to evade my question. " Why do you not answer me 1 why stand there like one demented ? Why are you about the house at this time of the night, and wdiere is my father? Answer me at once ; I will know," I said in an imperious voice. " Oh dear, miss, please don't be so cross," sh1; answered, " and do go back to bed again.

If you will know what is the matter, why it's poor master he has had a fit." " Then why did you not call me ? " I cried. " Surely I, his daughter, am the one that should be with him when he is ill." " Oh, but we have done all we could, miss, indeed we have, and we thought it would be best not to worry you. We have sent for Dr Farr, and expect him here every moment, and I am sure it will bs much the better way for you to go back and get into bed again. It would only worry your dear father to see you vexing for him." " It would not," I exclaimed, " and I will go to him this instant." "Well, miss, if you persist in seeing him, I suppose you must, but I am sure it will make him worse, then you would be sorry for it afterwards ; but there, I wid say no more, you must please yourself." But just at this moment I heard a carriage drive up to the front of the house, and I knew that Dr Farr had come and would certainly do his best for him, so I went back into my room and got into bed again, after making Mary promise to come and let me know how my dear father was directly Dr Farr had left.

I listened for the slightest sound, and it seemed hours to me, in my impatience, before I heard any sound whatever. All was now as quiet as the grave. I had a thought of going down once or twice, but the thought of meeting Dr Farr kept me back, for I was a trifle afraid of him. But at length I heard a step in the hall, and the front door open and shut and the carriage drive away, then I knew that Dr Farr had gone. A moment after Jane and Mary slowly ascended the stairs, but instead of coming into my room to let me know how my dear father was, as Mary promised, they passed iDto their own. " I suppose they think I am gone to sleep," I said to myself, " but I'll soon undeceive them." So I quickly got out of bed, hurried on my dressing-gown, opened my bedroom door, and listened to hear if they were talking ; but I could hear nothing distinctly, so I stole cautiously along to their bedroom door, and I heard Mary say in a subdued voice, " Poor Miss Kitty, poor dear !

I don't know how to tell her — she'll be quite broken-hearted, she did dote on poor master so." I cannot express my feelings when I heard her words, but I controlled myself sufficiently to call out and ask them how my dear father was now. " Oh, dearie me, he is no better, miss," answered Jane, as she opened the door and stood there looking very dejected and sorrowful. " But do go back to your own room again, miss, and get into bed. We will tell you all about it in the morning." " Indeed I shall not go back to my own room," I answered defiantly. " I will not go back till I see my father. Why — why all this mystery ? For pity's sake tell me ! If you do not, I shall go aud see for myself ; I will not be kept in the dark any longer. Mary promised to come and tell me when Dr Farr was gone, and she did not.

It's cruel, cruel to keep me in such suspense ; you must know how anxious I feel." "Do not go downstairs, I pray you, Miss Kitty," said Mary; "indeed you had much better not. When Dr Fair gets home he is going to send over Mrs Farr to see you." I burst out crying when I heard these words, for I knew very well if there was not something very serious the matter with my father that Mrs Farr would never come over so early in the morning. " Is my father going to die and leave me like poor mamma?" I inquired. "Ob, tell me — tell me quickly. I must know." They exchanged sorrowful glances, but both remained silent. It was just beginning to get light, and as I could receive no answer, I thought, come what might, I would go and see for myself. So I rushed out of their bedroom, and as I was very active I was downstairs before they realised I had gone.

My father's study door was just opposite the stairs, and I could see by the dim morning light it was slightly ajar. 1 listened a second and could hear no sound, so I pushed the door a trifle farther open and peeped in, and I could see the form of my father laid down on the old-fashioned sofa where he often went and took a nap after his dinner. "Father! father!" I called softly, while I gulped down a sob, "what is the matter? Father, dear, it is I — your little Kitty," but he did not answer, and I thought he must be asleep, he seemed so still and quiet. I thought I would just go over and peep at him to see how he looked, but I would not disturb him. When I had satisfied myself I would go back to bed again. So I quietly walked over to tlie sofa and stood and looked at him. How white and still he looked, and he did not appear to be breathing.

I just touched his hand, and to my inexpressible horror I found it was stiff and cold as ice, and I knew directly that my dear father had shaken off his mortal coil, and gone to meet my dear mother in heaven, while I alone was left to weep. " Oh, father ! my own dear, dear father ! speak to me once more," I cried, and then I gave one terrific shriek and fell fainting to the floor, and I remembered no more till I found myself in my own little bed, with Mrs Farr and Mary bending over me, and directly I saw them I remembered everything. "Do not cry, darling," said Mrs Farr; "it is, I know, a very severe trial for you, and I am sure you have my most sincere sympathy ; but if you keep crying you will make yourself quite ill. Come, cheer up, dear, I am come to take you home with me. I have a daughter about your age, she will be nice company for you."

I still sobbed on, and she continued : " Come, this will never do. Let me help to dress you, and come downstairs with me and have some breakfast, then you will feel more refreshed." " Oh, no, no, no ; I cannot eat anything," I cried, " and I don't want to go with you, neither do I want to see your daughter. I only want to die and go with my father. Oh, if I could but die, if I could but die, and go with my father, how glad I should be. Oh, God," I cried in my agony, " take me too, let me die too, for I cannot live now. I cannot live without my father. It's cruel, cruel, for God to lay such a burden upon me. I've no one to love me now — no one in the world." " Hush ! hush ! my dear," cried Mrs Farr, while she looked distressed and shocked to see my grief, " you are upset, and don't know what you are talking about, and you will feel thankful some day that God in His mercy did not take you.

I know this trouble is hard to bear, but God never gives us greater burdens than we are able to endure. Come, you must cheer up, and try to pass it off a little ; burdens are far more easily borne if they are placed as much as practicable out of sight. When we keep dwelling upon them they increase in size and grow almost unbearable. You must try and summon up courage and strength to endure it, and not think of anything else. If God saw fit to take your dear father, I daresay it was ordered for the best — if we cannot see it now — these things are always wisely ordered." "It cannot be for the best," I cried, "and you would not think so if you had lost your only living relative. I have no one in the world to care about me now, and I am sure God does not love me or He would never send me such trouble."

"Hush! hush! my dear. 'Whom^the Lord loveth He chasten eth,' and you must not think no one cares for you. I am sure I love you very much. If I cared nothing about you, you know, dear, I should not have come over for you so early this morning. It is a very bitter trial for you, I know, losing your dear father, but time heals all our sorrows, and you have a long and happy life before you, I hope. Come, try and rouse yourself, dear, and come with me and have your breakfast." So I languidly got out of bed and suffered Mrs Fan to help to dress me, and then I followed her downstairs to the dining-room, where breakfast was waiting for us. I drank one cup of coffee with great difficulty, for I felt it would choke me, and as for eating, I could not touch anything, and Mrs Farr just let me have my own way and did not press me.

After Mrs Farr had finished her breakfast she asked me if I should like to go and look upon my dear father, and I nodded in the affirmative. So we both went in together, and I took a last long look for ever of the dearest father ever girl had. I could hardly seem to realise that he was dead, as I stood with straining eyes looking down upon him ; he looked so calm, and withal so smiling, it looked more like a peaceful slumber than anything else. I kissed and cried over him, and begged him in my misery to take me with him ; but at length Mrs Farr took me kindly by the hand and led me away. " Now, my dear," she said, " I think you will be much better if you come with me, and I really must be going. I will help you to put your hat and jacket on." So I very reluctantly allowed her to help me dress and take me to the carriage that was waiting for us outside and put me in, then I was driven away from the home where I had spent such a happy childhood, never to return again.

I sat back in the carriage and tried to picture to myself what the future would be like without a father or a mother. What I should do I could not imagine, for I did not know a relation in the world, but I had sometimes heard my father speak of a sister of his whom he called Priscilla, and as I thought of it I turned to Mrs Farr and asked her if she knew whether my father had a sister whom he called Priscilla. "Well, dear, I hardly know," she answered, "but I think, if I remember rightly, I have heard the Doctor say your father had a sister, but I do not know whether she is living or not. I will ask the particulars when we get home — Dr Farr will be sure to know." "Thank you," I said, and we relapsed into silence till the carriage drove up to the front of the house, when out rushed three children, two girls and a little boy.

"Oh, mother, mother, where have you been?" cried all the voices in chorus ; but when they saw me emerge from the carriage they all became silent, and stood looking wonderingly at me. " I will tell you where I have been presently, my dears," answered Mrs Fair, " but for the present all of you go into the dining-room. I have brought a young friend home with me you see, and when we have taken off our things I will bring her down and introduce her to you," and saying this she took me by the hand and led me upstairs, while the children stood gazing after us with wondering eyes. After we had taken off our things, Mrs Farr kindly asked me which I would rather do, stay upstairs or go down and join her family, and I told her I should prefer the latter. When we got into the dining-room, I saw there was another addition to the family, in the shape of Mrs Farr's eldest son, and in my eyes he looked quite a young man.

He was tall and rather thin, but I liked his look, he had such a frank, open expression in his face, and he looked so kindly at me out of the depths of his honest brown eyes, and he gave me such a cordial grasp of the hand as his mother introduced me to him. The next to be introduced was Edith. She was the eldest daughter, and about my own age. I did not like the look of her so well. She had not the smiling, free, open expression I noticed in Archie. She shyly lifted her eyes, eyed me coldly over with a glance which seemed to freeze my already told heart, gave me rather a cold shake of the baud, withdrew her eyes, and went to the window. I noticed afterwards she stood there absently looking at the scene without. Next came Maud, a saucy, bright-eyed maiden. She welcomed me effusively, and I felt sure, as I looked at her, that she would be my favourite, for Edith's cold look seemed to chill my very marrow, and I felt I could never love her.

Her look was much as to say, "What business have you intruding here?" Last, and least, came little Georgie, a flaxen-haired little fellow, and the decided pet of the family, as I found afterwards. He was four years of age, and he still went by the appellation of Baby. "And what is your name?" I asked the little fellow as Maud cried out, " This is Baby ! " "Why, Geordie," he exclaimed, tip-toeing himself up to make himself look taller, " but I'se called Baby 'cause I'se movah's baby, and movah haven't dot anover baby. I wish she had," he continued seriously. " Why do you wish she had ? " I said, for I felt rather amused with the little man despite my recent grief, and I almost wondered at myself for feeling interested in anything, for it was hardly two hours before I was wishing myself dead, and now here I was studying every face as they presented themselves to my view, and almost for the moment forgetting my grief in the interest I was taking in my new friends.

"'Cause 'ven they wouldn't call such a big boy as Geordie Baby," answered the little fellow ; " and if movah had a baby I could nurse it instead of dolly, and when it did cwy I'd pinch it. I wonder if she'd cwy ? My dolly don't when I pinch her." They all laughed, and spite of my trouble I laughed too. "How you all lars," he said knowingly. "I s'pose you lars 'cause you fink I todent nurse a baby, but I tould with my gwate big arms, todent I, movah ? " " I am afraid you would let it down ; your little arms wouldn't be big enough to hold a baby, my dear," answered Mrs Farr. "I sudent let it down," he said indignantly, "and I'm sure I've got big arms ; " and he held his little chubby arms out for general inspection, and coming up to me, he said triumphantly, " Now, haven't I got big arms ? " "Yes, dear," I answered soberly.

"They are nearly as big as mine," and, indeed, I think they were larger. He wore a frock with short sleeves, and his little arms were fully exposed, and I think they were the fattest, prettiest, and most dimpled little arms I ever saw. " I like you," he said ; "but what you cwy for? Your eyes is so wed, have you been cwying ? " His innocent question brought my sorrow again before my eyes, and it was with difficulty I restrained my sobs ; but Mrs Farr came to my assistance, and told little Georgie he must not talk any more, but run upstairs to the nursery with Edith and Maud, and the little fellow: went without a murmur. " And now, dear," said Mrs Farr, as soon as they had all gone except Archie, " you really must take something. I don't forget you have not had any breakfast yet." "But I really cannot take anything, Mrs Farr," I answered.

" But, my dear child, you must ; it is utter nonsense to say you can't eat. I insist upon your taking something," and as she spoke she rang the bell, and on the servant entering, she ordered a cup of cocoa to be sent in at once. " And now, Archie," she said, turning to her son, " I want you to stay here and see that Miss Glyn makes a good breakfast. I have some little household matters to attend to, and must be going ; but, by-the-bye, is your father gone out ? " "Yes, mother, and he desired me to tell you he was called out to a very urgent case, but would be back as qtiickly as he possibly could." " Oh, I hope he will be back soon. I wish to see him rather particularly," and saying this she withdrew, and I was left alone with Archie. We sat in silence some moments. I sipped my cocoa and looked thoughtfully on the floor, thinking meanwhile that it would not be so miserable after all if I could stay here with these young friends, and then the thought recurred to me what my dear father had been talking about the night before, namely, about sending me to school, and I wondered if I should have to go now, but I certainly thought if I had my choice I should prefer living here.