A Girl's Past. A novel

Chapter I

It was not to be expected that Kitty Brooke's eyes, exercised to extreme acuteness in diagnosing the symptoms of a complaint which, in a mild and tran sient form, had played a great part in her youth, should fail to discover certain signs of change in her brother's state of mind when she had him again under her lively and searching inspection. He was absent-minded, he was extraordin arily indifferent to the blandishment of syrens, to whom, before this, he had been VOL. II. A at least alive ; he was restless in his habits, provokingly reserved in his ac counts of Erdley, 'just like a stupid man,' as Kitty said, and, most ominous of all, he was evidently in a hurry to get back again. Besides, he no longer urged his mother's and sister's return with him ; on the contrary, he had numerous good reasons why a visit in the spring, or early summer, would be far more desirable.

Good-natured, un observant Mrs Brooke, who took everything from Graham as from an infallible oracle, only acquiesced with unsuspect ing contentment in whatever ' dear Graham ' thought best. She never saw anything that was not thrust at her eyes, her daughter contemptuously re marked. Kitty had no mind to let Graham escape unchallenged. ' Who is she ? ' she coolly asked him one evening after Mrs Brooke had gone to bed and Miss Kitty was kindly keeping her brother company over his even ing pipe. She looked up at him as she spoke, with her head on one side like a pert little sparrow. Graham stared at her severely, with a fraternal frown. ' Who's who ? What nonsense are you talking now ? ' ' Don't try and humbug me, dear boy,' the very modern girl retorted, 'be cause that's a feat beyond you. I'm not blind.

I'm not a fool. There's a somebody at Erdley, and a female somebody, who is occupying your mind at present, making you rude, unfriendly, unbrotherly, unsympathetic' ' Anything else ? ' Graham interrupted, laughing. ' Yes, lots else ; only I spare you. Don't think to deceive me. Haven't I been through the mill a dozen times ? Haven't I seen heaps of men far gone ? Haven't I noticed you before now ? ' ' Nonsense,' Graham cried angrily ; 'you never have. I'm not given to be 7 spoons — ' 'Oh, indeed,' Kitty returned, with her most provoking laugh. ' Never — well, hardly ever ! What about Mary Steele and Lai Morrison — oh, and numberless others ? ' ' Stuff. I never cared a pin for them.' ' Never, perhaps, compared with — hem ! — with present incognita ; not till next time, I daresay. Let me see ; now, who is there at Erdley ?

It isn't one of the Barnett girls ? ' ' The Barnett girls ! I loathe them ! ' ' Nor the Churchs, nor the Adamses ? Let me think. Ha ! there were those two — those clergy girls that you raved about as being beauties! Ha! ha! you're blushing, you're positively blushing, Mr Brooke-Graham ! ' ' I wish you'd hold your tongue, or talk rationally,' he said savagely. His anger moved her not a whit ' The more you rave, dear boy, the more sure I shall be you're hit. It's one of those girls, I am convinced. Lane, the name is. What are their Christian names, dear ? ' 'The Miss Lanes,' Graham said, with unnatural composure. ' Oh, there are three of them — Gweneth, Esther and Madge.' ' Three, are there ? I thought there were only two. I don't remember Madge.' 'She is a child and lame,' Graham answered calmly. 'You can't make capital out of poor little Madge, Kitty.

Come, you needn't be wasting time and breath talking over imaginary love-affairs of mine. How do your real ones pro gress ? Are you going to take poor Robertson, or are you not ? ' 'Grand strategic movement,' scoffed Kitty, ' carrying attack into enemy's quarters. The more clever you are, the more I suspect you. But if you want to talk of my affairs, I'm always ready. I've gone through so much, been wounded so often, I've grown hardened. You can't hurt me.' 'That's true enough, but I don't think it's nice in a girl, Kitty. You've given your heart away in little bits, there'll be nothing left for the last comer, it isn't ideal. I'm sorry for Robertson. He is a good fellow, and fond of you.' ' Pah,' said Kitty, in an accent of dis dain, ' it is edifying to hear men preach to girls ! We are to be all blushing innocence and ignorance, we are to bring our palpitating young hearts, all love and devotion, constancy and gratitude, and lay them at your feet, we are to be content with any battered remnant, but to provide an untouched feast of adora tion.

And how should you like us to know your pasts ? What sort of idols have you worshipped ? ' 'Well, Kitty,' Graham said calmly, fixing his honest eyes straight on hers, ' there won't be anything in my past, I sha'n't tell the girl I ask to marry me. You know too much of the seamy side, you affect too much cheap cynicism. Your flirtations and foolish snatches at forbidden fruit have rubbed the bloom off you — I shouldn't like to hear anyone I wanted for a wife talk as you do. I shouldn't care to come hundredth in her affections. I'm no saint — of course, I shall have sins to confess to her, but we shall meet on equal terms. I shall tell her everything as I expect her to do. Shall you let Robertson know, if you marry him, all your little goings on ? ' Kitty was a little ashamed. She was in the habit of thinking her sins of flirtation and folly venial enough, yet she knew she would hardly care to turn out her rubbish heap of paltry experi ences to be inspected in open day, and that she meant to keep some corners very dark and snug from her husband or lover.

She knew Graham meant what he said, she knew he was, as she expressed it, ' the straightest fellow in the world.' He had turned the tables on her and she had to hark back to her previous subject. ' Don't preach,' she said hastily, with a little toss and a little blush, ' my admirers can look after themselves. I think you might be a little more friendly and confidential — you used to be a much nicer boy before you came into your property. I do wish you'd make a clean breast of it — for I know there is something and someone.' ' Kitty, on my solemn word of honour, I've not said a syllable to any girl at Erdley that you could make anything out of! When such an event has happened, I'll tell you.' 'Ah! it is all very fine, but I know, if I were there, I should find out, — yes, and you know it too, and that's the reason why we are not to pay you a visit yet a while.' 'You talk as if I were an inhospit able brute.

I told the mater there was a heap of things to be done to the house before it would be fit for her, — drainage and water and so on — ' ' Yes, and the mater took it all for gospel ; so she would, if you told her the plague was raging there or that the roof was off. It is easy enough to hoodwink the poor mater, Graham. I am a different person. The fact is, I suppose you aren't proud of your choice, and know we shouldn't approve.' Graham felt just as he used to do when a boy home for the holidays, and his little sister was too provoking to be endured. Strong measures, such as shaking or cuffing, were the only remedies. He would have enjoyed shaking Kitty now, had not dignity forbidden. There are times when resort to the primitive methods of society would be distinctly refreshing. He would have suffered a good deal just then, rather that discuss his poor Gwen with Kitty.

How that worldly little person would seize on obvious objec tions and defects ! How she would have stigmatised the whole family, if she knew them as well as he did, without sharing the tenderness for one which redeemed and graced them all! If the day came when he could say, ' This is my future wife— your sister Gwen.' Kitty would have to be kind, to be careful with that mocking tongue of hers. He would be master, and compel his mother and sister to accept and be good to his shy, timid darling. He had no fear about his mother. She would regret that he had not looked higher, would see the defects of the connection (well, so did he for that matter), but she was sure to be good and gentle to the girl he chose ; and Kitty would have to be, whether she liked it or not, he must manage that. Gwen would never be intimate with her.

Kitty was not the girl to draw out her trembling confidence, her reluc tant affection, but so long as Kitty was respectful and kind he asked no more. He had leapt ahead and was planning A Girl 's Past. 13 Gwen's reception in his family before one word of love had passed, before he had the least reason for believing he should win the girl who was so hard to woo ! ' In the first place, I have made no choice, as you put it,' he said with the desperate nonchalance that makes a poor cloak for inward rage. ' In the second, whether you approve or not is a matter of indifference to me. I have often very decidedly disapproved of your proceedings ! ' ' How amiable you are ! ' Kitty cried, laughing her irritating laugh. ' Erdley has certainly not improved your temper, my boy. At one time I had a delusion that you possessed a fairly good one.

Since you've been home you've done nothing but quarrel with poor me, apropos of anything, it isn't at all a good, proper, Christmassy frame of mind You'll have to give me a very nice present to make up.' ' So I will. It is more easy to spend money on you than to find you agreeable.' ' Most people do — ' ' Spend money on you ? I know they do — you're wearing a new ring, who gave it you ? ' ' What a stern demand ! The poor fellow you pity so much — ' ' Robertson ? ' Kitty nodded a yes. ' Then, of course, you're engaged ? ' ' Oh, no, not exactly. Not unless I find I want to be. You are quite old fashioned and rigid in your ideas, dear ! ' ' I suppose it's " the kind of engage ment you see, that is binding on you and not binding on me " ? Well, I don't like such ways, Kitty. It may be old fashioned, but I hate your modern, for ward, flirting manners.' ' Mind your inamorata has done no worse than I,' Kitty said with another nod, ' you men think all girls perfect when you're in love — till you marry.' ' I'm not afraid,' Graham returned loftily. ' I should be sorry to have any thing to do with a young woman of your experience, Kit' ' Brothers don't as a rule look at one through rose-coloured spectacles.

I only hope you will not find her a. badder girl than me. Good-night, you sweet-tempered boy, I'll leave you to dream of 7 your paragon. Graham's temper cooled as he sat alone, smoking and ruminating. He felt pretty secure that Gwen had not been a flirt, an unconscionable flirt like Kitty ; it was her reticence, her shrinking reserve, in strong contrast to Ettie's for wardness, that had first interested him in her. She was not the over-ripe fruit that was tasteless, there was always something to conquer, another court to besiege — the citadel of her heart was well guarded. Only one - and - twenty, shy, cold-mannered, yet with always that hidden possibility of fire ; she had no past, no disagreeable story to unfold of foolish acts, or more foolish words, all the playing with edge tools that he hated to think of in Kitty.

Whatever faults Gwen might have, they were diametrically opposite — she was as diffi cult of access as Kitty was too easy. When he won her it would be the whole of her, the untouched heart, the reluctant trust, all the possibilities of a starved life that he should know how to warm and feed. He longed to be back in Erdley, and to begin, with more deter mined courage and persistence, the de lightful labour of winning her unstinted love and faith. He was sure he should be victor in the end, and if she made the conquest difficult, so much the more honourable and delicious when it was ended. He was in a fidget to find a plausible excuse for returning as soon as the Christmas season proper was well over. A letter from Mrs Willoughby gave him, at least, a tolerable one. She wrote to say there was to be a feast, given in accordance with an established custom, to all the school children and the old people of the place on Tweflth VOL. II.

B Day. It would be very nice if the new squire could be back to help on this occasion. If he really could not, would he send a subscription to her or to Mr Lane ? The latter gentleman, she said, was very busy collecting money for the treat, and really had proved active and kind. ' I can't like him,' she went on. ' There's something about him I never quite trust, but, to give him his due, he really is good-natured to the poor people, and though they don't respect him as much as Mr Merryweather, they like him better. He is very free and easy with them all, and has a chatty, genial way. The festivities consist of a sort of meat tea at five, then a Christmas tree for the children, and a concert for the old people — recitations and so on. The Lanes will be an invaluable addition. The Barnetts and other performers who used to take the lead are very cross and jealous.

They complain of the Lanes taking all the management of the enter tainment, but really, where music is con cerned it is right they should. Esther's good soprano and Gwen's lovely voice throw Chatty Barnett and Minnie Hillier quite into the shade. The Christmas Anthem was such a one as we never had before in Erdley church. Some good organist came over, a friend of Mr Lane's, took Gwen s place, and she sang " He shall feed His flock" most magnifi cently. I had the tears running down my cheeks before I knew. Esther sang " I know that my Redeemer liveth" finely too, but there wasn't the same thrill of feeling. It was really a beautiful service.' Of course it was the imperative duty of the 'new squire,' after this, to be present at the village festivities ! Graham was so perfectly convinced of this that he managed to instil the same opinion into his compliant mother's mind.

Her idol, her one son, could make no mistakes, could do no wrong. She was sorry, reluctant to part with him again so soon, but if he said he must go, he must. Kitty did not urge anything to the contrary — she had her own little game to play, her own affairs to engross her, and did not want the severe eye of her brother always upon her — but a wicked look twinkled over her pretty espiegle face, which Graham could read well enough. Of course, she de clared with great gravity, it was quite reason enough for his flying back to Erdley. How could the poor folks get feasted without him ? He must be there to see they did not indulge in too much tea, to prevent a shameful orgy with buns or more deadly mince pies. There was no doubt at all he must be there, whatever happened !

Chapter II

Christmas had not been a festive season with the Lane family. On the contrary, its usual concomitants, increased expense and the shower of bills which had descended on their devoted heads, had brought fresh wrinkles into Mrs Lane's plaintive face, had depressed Gwen and acidulated Mr Lane's and Ettie's tempers. They were relieved for a brief space of the care of the pupils, but, by way of balance, the sons of the family, Jack and Syd, managed to make them selves almost as troublesome. Jack was a reckless, extravagant, happy-go-lucky, good-natured fellow, always in scrapes, and always wriggling out of them, but with a certain fascination about him, partly owing to the family good looks, of which he had his full share, and partly to his invincible light-heartedness ; but Syd, with all Jack's faults, had vices of his own, and combined them with a sullen secretiveness, which made him unlovable as well as troublesome.

Gwen found life pretty dreary, those long, dark, dismal days of alternate snow and thaw. She sought relief in her music and in good works. A feverish desire to get out of herself and the sordid troubles of home, to breathe a purer, better air, possessed the silent, anxious, striving soul of the girl, whom no one understood or tried to understand, ex cept her mother, who was too deeply occupied, with the incessant small worries of keeping house on next to nothing, to have much time to spare even for her best loved child, and poor little Madge, who loyally loved and sympathised to the best of her ability. Gwen found a respite from her own wearing thoughts in listening to the long drawn-out woes and complainings of the poor people, the sick and the aged, who had found no joy in life, but its sole solace in expression of trouble.

She did not say much, her tongue was not a ready one, and shyness and reserve clung to her like crippling chains, and she gave less, for she had scarcely anything to give, yet somehow the poor people, who are quick at such valuation, learned to know that Miss Lane was sorry for them and earnestly wished, at any rate, to comtort and do good. She was a ' quiet sort of body,' the old women agreed, 'but her has a kind heart, anyone may see it in those eyes of hern. Her hadn't much to give away, twasn't likely, as the folks all said the new parson was as poor as a rat, but what her could do, her did.' One thing Gwen could do, and with an effort she conquered her shyness and let her light shine. One bedridden, sweet - faced, old woman once asked her to sing 'an 'ymn or sommat,' as she'd ' heard tell as she had a wonderful nice voice.' After a moment's hesitation, Gwen's sweet, rich, pathetic contralto rose to the low ceiling of the tiny room.

She sang ' Lead kindly Light,' and the old woman thanked her and prayed for more in one breath. Gwen felt glad of her power when she saw the quiet tears dropping down the pale, sunken, cheeks, for they were tears of pure luxury. It was a great deal more con genial to her than singing in drawing rooms, where the conventional thanks and praise followed as automatically as the other functions of polite society. These outspoken, plain, country folks, whose lips simply interpreted the crude thoughts that rose in their unpolished minds, took her out of herself and gave her ideas that were not wearily introspective, as too many of hers were. Except these visits to the cottages of the poor people Gwen only made occasionally one on Mrs Willoughby, whom she always found kind and soothing. The quiet, comfort able, rather primly-arranged, delicately orderly room, the placid yet intelligent talk, which seldom descended to gossip, and never to scandal, suited Gwen as no other in Erdley did, and both Mr and Mrs Willoughby got to like and admire the girl, whom there were ' few to praise and very few to love.' There was not actually much intimacy between them.

Mrs Willoughby was not exactly an expansive woman. A gentle undemon strativeness, always kind and courteous however characterised her. She did not believe in wearing one's heart on one's sleeve, and Gwen's reserve was too deep seated to yield to anything but the strongest and most passionate emo tion. But without intimacy there was friendship. Mrs Willoughby was well-in formed, cultivated, full of old-fashioned book-learning, and she liked imparting this to a receptive, ignorant, young mind as eager to take in as Gwen's was. She lent her the books that are most precious to real book-lovers, and was charmed to find that Gwen could ap preciate them, though she was extra ordinarily uncultivated in literary taste. Mr Lane was a clever man, and if he had had money and leisure might have cared to feed his mind, but his slipshod, Bohemian, impecunious career, drifting endlessly from one anchorage to another, had not afforded him the necessary means nor the opportunities, and the girls were just tumbled up anyhow ; accomplishments and good looks he con sidered their only chances of success, and therefore the only needful things.

To get them off his hands with as little bother as might be was his one aim for them. Children, at best, were expensive and a nuisance. He had little idea what to do with them, and let them ' take their chance,' in the usual improvident fashion of such fathers. Like most of his class he leant blindly on luck, which had always proved a broken reed to him, and even now, middle-aged, broken down, in perpetual difficulties, constantly disappointed, his unreasonable, unjustified hopefulness would not consent to die, but dragged its broken wing from day to day, from year to year, without much prospect of ever being able to soar again and carry its owner to any brighter region. He still expected from the lees of life what the first vintage had failed to give him. It was a pity that this sanguine temperament never steadily sweetened or improved his dis position ; it was only a habit he could not get rid of, and did not arise from anything so respectable as either faith or experience.

Some people indulge in unreasonable hope, as others do in the mild and furtive stimulation of snuff. The day fixed for the village tea was one of those ' days of misfortune ' which Miss Edgeworth's Rosamond was re buked for dreading. Everything seemed to go ajee, everybody was cross except poor Mrs Lane, who was never cross but often suffering, and that day — with her usual ill-luck — was obliged to stay in bed with a violent cold. Mr Lane, as the children say, got out of bed the wrong way. His morning letters, all of an unpromising aspect, sternly veiled in blue, did not tend to exhilarate him. Jack and Syd slunk out of the area of his querulous wrath as soon as possible, taking refuge in billiards and the Kino-'s Head. Madge was reduced early to tears. Ettie snapped at everything : the cold, the ' beastly snow,' as she elegantly called it, the smallness of the fire, the want of new clothes, the bother of this ' wretched tea,' in short, at things in general, and her own family in par ticular.

Gwen, the only one who seemed pricked by conscience into tack ling disagreeable duties, had a hard day's work. She helped a devoted band of parishioners all the morning in prepar ing for the evening festivities, and got small credit for what she did with any one but Mrs Willoughby. Gwen was not popular with the Erdley middle class ; she never chattered or seemed in terested in the gossip with which the other ladies sweetened their labours ; she had an unresponsive way of receiviner the items of news which served for conversation, had nothing to impart in return, and looked 'horribly cold,' as one young lady confided to another over wreath-making, ' as if one were not worth speaking to.' Ettie was not cordially liked, and when she annexed their par ticular ' young men's ' attentions, was even an object of detestation, but when none of the disturbing element was present she was found more congenial, and more amusing, than her pale, silent, elder sister.

She grumbled vastly at having to work and spoil her hands with ' nasty, cold, grimy evergreens,' but she talked and laughed fast enough, and that was better than being so ' awfully silent and stand-off' After early dinner, all preparations that required their supervision beino- A Girl 's Past. 33 over at the schoolroom, Ettie collapsed into the best chair by the dining-room fire, pronounced herself dead beat, turned up her skirts, put her toes inside the fender, and opened a ragged railway novel. ' I'll not stir again till we have to go to that wretched place. I'm half dead ! ' she declared. Gwen was tired enough ; she, too, sub sided for a brief space into a chair by the fire and a book. Madge was happy over contriving a new costume for a cherished, but faded waxen child of hers ; the boys had vanished as usual ; Mr Lane was smoking in his den ; brief peace reigned — very brief, as he soon emerged in a fresh fret and fuss. 'Ton my life, girls, we forgot that that parcel has never come from the vol. ii. c junction !

Someone must meet the afternoon train ; they are never to be depended on for sending, and the porter is sulky because I didn't tip him. We must have it before the evening. Where are the boys ? ' ' You needn't ask,' Ettie returned, ' they're off to the billiard - room, of 7 course. Mr Lane's face darkened. ' Just the way always,' he said vehe mently. ' No man ever had such neglect ful children. I mentioned this morning that I wanted some one to go to the station, and they have been loafing about all day without doing a single thinoto help, and I am run off my legs! And now there's that wretched old Maria Bates sends to say she's dyino- \ She is always fancying things, and I must go or she will raise the parish with com plaints. One never has a moment's peace or quiet. I suppose I sha'n't till I am in my grave.' Mr Lane loved, when put out, to pity himself profusely and to raise some pathos over the picture of his departure from an ungrateful world.

His children were used to frequent allusions to his grave, and were often required to con jure up the vision of his premature death-bed, which they were to understand was hastened forward by their want of filial consideration. I am afraid they had grown callous and were not in the habit of being moved. ' Who's going to fetch this parcel, it's almost time to start ? ' he went on sharply, looking from one to the other. ' Can't Ellen ? ' Ettie asked, yawning. She had a fixed inward purpose that whoever tramped to the station in the cold slush of a day, half freezing, half thawing, altogether raw and horrible, it should not be Miss Esther Lane. ' You know Ellen is worked off her feet,' Gwen said briefly. ' She can't.' ' Then will one of you ? ' her father said, hesitating a little, with some com punction. 'Papa!

I'm half dead — I couldn't — and my chilblains cripple me. Send some one for one of the boys.' ' Pshaw ! who's there to send ? and if I did, they wouldn't go — Gwen — ' he looked appealingly, with some kindness at her, 'it is a nuisance, I know, but the things must be here.' Gwen rose sighing ; she had seen from the beginning that, as usual, Ettie's selfishness was too potent a force to be combatted and she must turn out again into the dreary weather. It was all so usual that she had almost given up resenting it ; some people were born selfish she supposed, Ettie couldn't help it. Madge was still new enough to the family conditions to be angered by them. ' It's too bad,' she cried as Mr Lane retired, relieved, but a little ashamed ; ' you're more tired than Ettie, but she's the selfishest girl in the world.' ' Hold your tongue,' Ettie returned sharply ; ' if anyone were such a martyr to chilblains as I am, they'd do nothing.' ' Gwen has them too — ' Madge began, but Gwen stopped her. ' What's the good of quarrelling, child,' she said a little scornfully, ' Ettie means to stick to the fire, and a walk more or less won't kill me.' It was certainly the vilest of vile winter weather, though nothing was actually falling, only now and then a sulky drift of sleety rain which seemed to want the spirit to come down decidedly.