Winning her Way: or, Left in Difficulties

Front matter

WINNING HER WAY. A Uniform with this Book. THE GIRLS' OWN FAYOURITE LIBRARY. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, gilt edges. Each Volume contains from 300 to 400 pages 0/ solid reading, ivell Illustrated by the best Artists. Price Three Shillings and Sixpence, 1. Guide, Philosopher, and Friend. By Mrs Herbert Martin. 2 Her Title Of Honour. By Holme Lee. 3 Michaelmas Daisy. By Sarah Doudney. 4 The Oak Staircase. By M. and C Lee. 5 For a Dream's Sake. By Mrs Herbert Martin. 6. My Mother s Diamonds. By Maria J. Greer. 7. " Bonnie Lesley." By Mrs Herbert Martin. • Left Alone. By Francis Carr. 9- Very Genteel. By the Author of " Mrs Jerningham's Journal." 10. Gladys the Reaper. By Anne Beale. is Stephen the Schoolmaster. By Mrs M. E. Gellie. -2. Court and Cottage. By Mrs Emma Marshall. 13- Kosamond Fane.

By M. and C. Lee. 14. Simplicity and Fascination. By Anne Beale. 15- Aunt Hetty S WiH. By M. M. Pollard. 10. Silver Linings. By Mrs Bray. 17- A Generous Friendship ; or, the Happenings of a New- England Summer. 18. A Country Mouse. By Mrs Herbert Martin. 19. Kind Hearts. By Mrs Firth. Griffith Farran Okeden & Welsh London and Sydney. pj-cntispiece. " I never saw a flower Hke that before."— Page 15. WINNING HER WAY OR LEFT IN DIFFICULTIES LY THE AUTHOR OF "A GENEROUS FRIENDSHIP' ILLUSTRATED BY A. HITCHCOCK " If I were a cobbler, I'd make it my pride The best of all cobblers to be ; If I were a tinker, no tinker beside Should mend an old kettle like me. Let who will be second, The first I'm determined to be. Old Song. LONDON GRIFFITH FARRAN OKEDEN & WELSH NEWBERY HOUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD AND SYDNEY The rights of translation and of i eproauetion are reserved. 3n Xovung /iftemorg of €mma, THIS BOOK, THE LAST WRITTEN BY HER, 18 DeMcateO BY HER HUSBAND, E. MALCOLM TURNER.

Catford, February 1889. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. A Sunny Morning . . . .11 II. A Coincidence .... 18 III. A Doctor's Holiday ... 26 IV. Christie's Bright Idea . . . 31 V. An Anxious Night .... 39 VI. "My Miss Maud" .... 46 VII. Maud finds a Friend . . .52 VIII. Frederica's Notes .... 62 IX. Mrs Grainger .... 69 X. The "Unemployed" ... 75 XI. Mrs Grainger's Charity ... 90 XII. Boarding House Life ... 98 XIII. Frederica's Notes . . . .103 XIV. Maud's Inheritance . . . .114 XV. What can She Do? . . . . 121 XVI. Supply and Demand . . 130 XVII. Frederica's Notes .... 140 XVIII. Two Plans ..... 148 XIX. Lost in the Snow . . .152 XX. "Where can They be?" . . . Contents, 10 CHAP. PACE XXI. Arborfield . . . • ■ !7! XXII. Mrs Tracy l82 XXIII. Frederica's Notes . . . . 1S9 XXIV. Frederica's Notes— Continued . . 199 XXV.

Chapter I

A SUNNY MORNING. STANTON sat on the beach with 9? Awir *P sketch book in her lap, her brushes I "nMlr i anc^ Pa'nts by her side, but with idle Who could paint, indeed, or be anything but delightfully lazy on such a morning as this ? A bright, sunny morning, but with just breeze enough to cool the air, and make the sea sparkle with little rest less, foamy waves ; above, a few white flecks of clouds, to take off from the blue monotony of the sky ; and in the foreground, a wide expanse of smooth, yellow sand. There was nothing exciting in the view, nothing to call the imaginative faculties into play, but there was much to conduce to sleepy restfulness, and an ignoring of the fact, that anybody had to work, on such a lovely day as this. A little longer, and Maud might have dropped peace fully off into a doze, but presently she became conscious, that she was no longer the only person on this part of the beach.

A little girl of about nine years old had come down the rude steps leading from the sea wall above, and, armed with wooden spade and tin pail, gone to work digging in the sand, as if her daily bread depended upon her getting a certain amount done within some given time. She was a brown, sunburnt little girl, dressed in a picturesque dark blue frock, and red cap, and with a thick crop of fair hair, which the wind seemed to take delight in blowing across her face. But with a toss of the curly mane, the child would go on with her work, evidently by a regular system, as if she had previously planned out just what she would do. First, she drew a pretty correct circle on the sand with her spade, and then began digging a ditch by it, piling what she threw out, in the middle. When one round had been completed, she picked up some of the largest stones she could find, and patted them well into the heap, then shovelled more sand upon it, and then more stones, going on in regular order.

It amused Maud to watch the child, and especially as the little builder seemed so perfectly unconscious of her presence. But, after a-while, pausing to rest a moment, and to fling back her hair for the fiftieth time, the little girl caught sight of Maud sitting on one of the large stones, shaded by her white umbrella, and dressed in a pretty combination of blue and white. After that her attention became divided — a few moments of work on her sand castle, and then a glance of undisguised admiration at the young lady who was watching her with so much interest, until at length building seemed A Sunny Morning. 13 to lose its delight for her, and throwing down her spade, she seated herself on the sand, though at a respectful distance from the object of her admiration, saying aloud, as if making an apology to herself for deserting the work, that had so absorbed her a little while before, " I think I'm tired, and I know I am very hot !

" Maud looked at her and smiled. The little girl smiled in return, but then immediately looked away, as if seeing something very interesting in another direction. " Would you like to come under my umbrella ? " asked Maud, gently, after a few moments' silence. There was no reply, but the child gradually moved nearer and nearer, till the capacious umbrella presently covered her as well as Maud. And then, taking courage, she looked up with her frank, honest brown eyes, and said, " Have you only just come to Brightsea ? I never saw you before." " And yet I have been here for six weeks ! " replied Maud, " but lately I have not been able to get out much, as my father has been so ill that I did not like to leave him." " Is he better now ? " asked the child, feeling an in terest in anything that concerned this new friend of hers.

" I think he is, or I could not have left him, though he wanted me to come out, as it was such a lovely morning." " Have you been painting ? " Maud shook her head. " I meant to do so," she re plied, smiling, " but the spirit of laziness took possession of me, and here I have been all the morning doing nothing, absolutely nothing ! " " My sister Frederica paints ; she is having lessons while she is here, of an Italian, who teaches a class on the beach three times a week. They are painting me ! " " Then I think I have seen you before, at a distance. I take private lessons of the Signor, and from the windows of our hotel, I have seen him sometimes with his pupils round him, and some little girl — I did not see her face clearly — standing very patiently on one of the groynes to be painted." " Did you really ? and you did not know then, that we should ever be friends, did you ?

" said the little girl, as she confidingly put a brown hand into one of Maud's, "and I don't even know your name yet," she added. " My name is Maud ; and yours ? " " Christina, but every one calls me Christie," was the reply ; " and I am afraid every minute I shall hear some body calling ' Christie, Christie,' from the Parade, for it must be nearly dinner time. Do you know who the ' somebody ' is ? " " Your mamma?" " No ; it is Fraulein, and she is much stricter than mamma would be. She can't understand that little girls get interested in their play, and don't always re member to listen to a far-away clock striking." " What time must you go home ? " "I must be there by a quarter-past one, and that leaves time to get tidy for dinner at half-past." "Then to-day you have plenty of time," said Maud, looking at her watch, " as it is only half-past twelve now."

" I am so glad," said Christie, heartily, " for I want to stay here with you. It's so nice and comfortable." "Did you get tired of digging in the sand ?" " I don't think I should have done so, if I hadn't seen you, but you looked so fresh and cool, so like a pretty flower that had been dropped down here by somebody, that I wanted to look at you, and did not care about my castle afterwards." A Sunny Morning. 15 " Are you very fond of flowers ? " "Oh yes, we have a great many in our garden at home. Have you a nice garden too ?" " No ; I have not even a settled home at present, but I buy flowers when I can, to paint. Would you like to see some of my attempts in my sketch-book ? " Christie gladly assented, and as she turned over the leaves, was pleased to be able to show that she knew the names of several of the flowers.

"Those are Marguerites," she said; "they always look to me like Sunday-school children, with their faces all washed, so clean ! And those foxgloves are so proud, holding themselves up above the other plants, and looking down upon them ! And pelargoniums are like grand ladies, always dressed in their best ! " " You funny child ! " said Maud, " I wonder what idea you will have about this flower ; " and she showed Christie the last sketch she had made. " I never saw a flower like that before," replied Christie. " I daresay not. I found it one day, when I was walking on the beach, before papa became so much worse. It is a yellow sea poppy, and grew in the sand, just above high water mark, far down beyond that mass of rocks that you can see about a mile off along the beach. You know most poppies are such frail, delicate things, that a very little bad weather would break them down, and quite destroy them, but these yellow ones, seem only to grow stronger for being exposed to the rough sea breeze, and become so tough that they are quite hard to pick, while their roots go down a long way through the sand, and can only be pulled up with difficulty.

Now, little Miss Wisdom, look at my sketch well, and tell me of what yellow poppies remind you." Christie puckered up her face in a comical way, and meditated a moment before answering slowly : " You say they grow in the sand, where there is nothing else pretty, and that they don't mind the wind, but only grow stronger for it. Well, I think the common poppies are like the girls who love to dress gaily, and look pretty, but who can't stand trouble a bit, and just sit down and cry if they have anything hard to do ; but these yellow poppies are the girls who try to make their world beautiful for everyone, and don't mind if their lessons are ever so difficult ! " " Dear little Christie, that is very good," said Maud, giving her a kiss ; " so you and I must try to be like yellow poppies, mustn't we ?

" " Yes," exclaimed Christie, brightly ; " and I must tell Freddie about them, I don't think she ever saw any sea poppies. But now will you please look at your watch again ? This has been such a happy morning that I don't want to make any blot upon it by being late." " Then I think you had better run away now. Good bye, dear Christie." And with a smile that made her look more charming than ever, to her new admirer, Maud watched the little girl, who kept turning back to look at her, till she was out of sight. When Maud went up to the hotel soon afterwards, she found her father in unusually good spirits. " Look there, my dear," he said, handing her a yellow envelope, "didn't I tell you Hastings would come to me as soon as he knew I was ill ? I believe now that I shall begin to improve, for he will make a study of my case, and not give it the superficial attention that the other doctors have done."

A Sunny Morning. 17 " I am so very, very glad he is coming," said Maud, kneeling down by the sofa, upon which her father was lying, and giving him a loving kiss on the forehead, "for, quite apart from his skill, I know it will do you good to see him and talk over your old school days, and the fun you had together when you were boys. I was a very little thing when he last came to see you, but I remember his hearty laugh, and the bluff, good natured way he had with him." "Yes, indeed, Frank Hastings is a man in a thousand," said Mr Stanton earnestly, " and the mere thought of his coming has done me so much good, that after lunch I think I shall let Groves wheel me out for a little while, on the Parade." B

Chapter II

A COINCIDENCE. T about ten o'clock the following morning two girls were seated on one of the benches on the Brightsea Parade, engaged in the unintellectual, but (as they were both from a quiet country place) the interesting occupation, of watching the stream of summer visitors passing and repassing before them. The elder was Christie's sister Phyllis, who, without perhaps being actually handsome, was a very attractive looking girl ; tall and with a good figure, plenty of soft brown hair, eyes of the same colour, and a clear com plexion that had, so far, escaped wonderfully from becoming either tanned or freckled by the sea air. Her friend, however, had not fared so well ; for Mary Tracy, with her hair, that even her best friends could call nothing but red, had also that delicate skin which generally accompanies such a colour, and was freckled like a buxom dairymaid.

But it was a matter that troubled her very little, for she knew she was no beauty, and as long as she was neat and tidy in her dress, cared little about appearances. Mary was one of the good natured, easy-going people, who are destined never to do any great things in the world, but who make a good deal of home comfort for others in their own matter of-fact way. She did not very often leave home, and had been very glad to accompany her friends and their governess on this trip to Brightsea. " Now, Phyllis," said Mary presently, " I want you to look at these people as they pass us. I have not seen them for several days, and thought they must have gone away. There, did you notice what a handsome, intellectual face the old gentleman in the bath chair had, and what a sweet-looking girl it was by his side, holding the umbrella carefully, so as to shade his eyes from the glare of the sun ?

Frederica and I have often wondered who they are, they look so superior to most of the visitors." " The old man seems very ill," remarked Phyllis. " Yes ; and he evidently keeps the girl with him all the time, for I have not noticed her alone on the beach at all, though yesterday I fancied that I caught a glimpse of her near the hotel, when I was racing home to dinner." " Oh, by the way, what made you so late ? Fraulein says she scolds Christie when she is not punctual, and therefore we elder girls must not set her a bad example." " I was only interviewing an old boatman, who was mending his nets, a jolly old fellow, who loved to hear himself talk, and gave me a good deal of information. I never knew before why no large boats come in here, but it seems that, instead of this being a tame sort of shore as it appears, there are lots of sunken rocks, just out of sight, besides that little reef of them that makes its appearance at low tide, so that it is risky for boats to come in here.

But now, Phyllis, I must go, for I see the Signor looming in the distance, with his obedient little flock of school girl pupils following him, and must go to my lesson." " Where is Frederica ? " asked Phyllis, as Mary picked up her painting materials from the seat where she had laid them down. " She is already at work, much to Christie's disgust, though really the patience that child shows, in standing on an uncomfortable groyne for the class to paint her, is simply marvellous ! You will come and see us presently, will you not ? " " Perhaps so, when I have done some shopping with Fraulein." " Au revoir, then," cried Mary, as she ran away down the nearest steps to the part of the beach where Frederica had set up her easel. " The Signor is coming, Fred," she exclaimed ; " have you managed to wash out that cloud yet, that he said last time looked like a rock thrown up in an explosion ?

" " Yes, look at it, and see how nicely I have softened it down," was the reply. " And now, Christie, that I have got in your little red cap again, you had better jump down, and have a good run till you are wanted for the class." " Need I stand again ? " pleaded Christie. " I should think you had all stared at me enough in the last two lessons, to know me by heart." " I am afraid there are some finishing touches still to be done, you poor little martyr ; but I will be sure and intercede for you, so that you need not be our lay figure any longer than necessary." "Although," added Mary, "you ought to be highly complimented at having so many people doinotheir best to immortalize you." " It's not me, it's my sailor frock and red cap that you have all taken a fancy to," said Christie, shrewdly, though ungrammatically; "I only wish I had come down here in my old pink cotton ; but no, I don't, if you really like to paint me, Freddie," and she gave her sister a boisterous kiss that nearly upset the easel and all upon it, before she went rushing off down the beach for her promised run.

And then the master, a dark-looking Italian, in a velvet coat, and with a felt hat of no particular shape, stuck jauntily on one side of his head, came noisily down the pebbly beach, and set about arranging easels in the proper places, and putting his pupils in the right positions, and all the other little fussinesses connected with an out-of-doors sketching-class, chattering inces santly all the time, as was his wont. The little model was soon called back, and obliged to mount upon the heavy wooden groyne that ran down the beach, and had been chosen for this purpose on account of the rich green tones of the seaweed that clung to it, more than to most of the others. The child certainly added to the scene immensely, in her picturesque dress, and with her fair, flowing hair, against the background of sea and sky, and leaning as she did against a great post that gave the class a good study in browns and greens.

"Ah, yes ! that is much better," exclaimed the Signor, as he came to Frederica's side. " The awful cloud has disappeared, but now — see here — you have lost the tone! Your sky now is too cold — a deep blue sea, and a pale, so pale sky, are not in harmony, and harmony there must be, or the picture is dead — valueless ; it is like a discord in music ! I am sure you would not like to shock us by striking a discord on the piano that would make our ears to ache, so please do not grieve our eyes with letting a discord remain on the paper." " But," said Frederica, " I don't want the picture to be too blue ; the reason I put in the cloud to which you objected so much, was only to take off from the blue ness. Blue sea, blue sky, and then Christie's blue frock " " Never mind. The blues are there before you — all different shades and still harmonious, and when you paint from Nature you must be true to her, or you will drift away like a child's boat on the tide.

But anchor yourself to harmony, to the pure harmony of Nature, and you will be safe." And as he spoke, the master was washing in the sky again with a few sweeping strokes, that Fred could not help owning to herself did improve her picture greatly, although his manner of giving his instructions always amused her a little ; for although speaking English tolerably well, it was with a strong foreign accent, and he seemed to emphasize his words with quite unnecessary force. But he was a thoroughly good teacher, and as Frederica had a great ambition to paint well, and not with a mere young ladyish prettiness, she was glad to have an opportunity of taking lessons while on her holiday. It was some time before Phyllis made her appearance, and came and seated herself between Frederica and Mary. " Such a piece of news as I have for you girls," she said.

" Guess who has come ? " " George," exclaimed Frederica promptly. " No." " It can't be Sir Herbert, or you would not come here alone" said Mary, laughing. " Oh, no. He is in Scotland," replied Phyllis, quietly. " Then it must be father," said Frederica. " Yes, it is ; and what is more wonderful, is, that he has not come here on our account at all ! He says he had a letter from an old school friend of his, of whom, I daresay, you remember hearing him speak, as well as I do— Arthur Stanton." " Yes, that was the boy who used to be always trying experiments, and nearly blew himself and Daddy up once, by making fireworks that exploded before their time." " Yes, that is the one. Well, it seems that he has occasionally corresponded with father ever since those old days, but now he is very ill, and could not be satisfied without having his old friend's medical advice.

So he wrote from Brightsea (quite ignorant of the fact of our being here, of course), begging father to come and see him ; and, of course again, father left everything in George's hands, and started off, only too glad that he should have the chance of seeing how we were getting on, as well as of gratifying Arthur Stanton's wish." " Where is the dear Daddy now ? " " As soon as he had had a little lunch of biscuits and a glass of ale, he started off to the Marchmont House under my guidance; but there he heard that Mr Stanton was out, having been taken down in a chair on the Esplanade, his daughter accompanying him." "You don't mean to say that he turns out to be the old gentleman we were watching with so much interest," cried Mary, dropping her brush in her excitement. " Odd though it may seem, it is the case, however.

As we came along the Esplanade we met the chair, and immediately the two old friends recognised each other, and shook hands, and looked into each other's faces in a way that brought the tears into my eyes. I could not help it, for that look seemed covering the past, present, and future in a moment ; and I am sure they both felt that this meeting might soon be followed by a parting, longer than any they had had yet. But they hardly spoke, Mr Stanton only said, ' I am glad you came at once, old fellow,' and father replied, ' Of course I did after your letter.' " " And the girl, what did she do ? " asked Mary. " She stood by, looking at us, as I thought with some curiosity, but I did not stay long, for the two friends seemed quiet oblivious of my presence, and so I quietly slipped away and came to you."

" I suppose now, that we shall be obliged to become acquainted with her. I don't much relish the idea," remarked Fred, making vicious little dabs at the pebbles in the foreground of her picture, " she does not look like a girl of our sort, always so beautifully dressed." " Of whom do you speak, that'you must punish your poor picture with so much anger ? " suddenly put in the Signor, looking down at Frederica's work. " I don't suppose you know her," she replied shortly, for she had watched the master looking inquiringly at the three as they were talking together, and thought that he was probably longing to exercise his natural propensity for a bit of gossip, and the result showed that she had guessed right. " If my ears did not play me false," the Signor went on with some eagerness, " I heard some mention of Miss Stanton who is staying with her father at the Marchmont House, and, if so, I can tell you that I know her very well, as she is one of my best pupils."

" Is she really ? Why then does she not join our class ? " asked Mary. " Her father does not like her to leave him, so she takes lessons privately, and spends much of her time in painting. Some of her pieces are very fine — tone, harmony — all correct ; but sometimes she finds she has no soul for painting, and then my instruction all goes by — like the dust before the wind — and is no good, she can do nothing well at all ! But it would be well for you to look at her portfolio, and see some of her sketches ; they would help you to succeed in your own." " Thank you, Signor," said Frederica, with a little laugh, " but I think I can learn from yourself all I want at present, and I do not feel any strong desire to see what Miss Stanton may have accomplished." The Signor shrugged his shoulders, and turned aside to another pupil, with a muttered chacun a son gout, leaving Frederica more sure than ever, that the talkative little man had not heard quite enough of what Phyllis was saying to satisfy his curiosity, and was anxious to hear more.

Chapter III

A DOCTOR'S HOLIDAY. l^Sf(f||[f T was not often that Dr Hastings and his sUffe 4_W_ wi*~e a^owed themselves any lengthened «Pll iPl? holiday, for although the doctor's practice G§A&3il£? was large, there were not many wealthy people included in it, and perhaps, indeed, the neighbourhood was too healthy to be a very lucrative one for a medical man. But whether they could afford it for themselves or not, they always contrived that their young folks should have a holiday away from home once a year, at any rate. Sometimes the change was merely to Mrs Hastings' former home in Berkshire, where her parents were always glad to welcome a merry party of grandchildren ; and once, just before George, the eldest of the family, became his father's assistant, he went with his sisters and their governess, to a quaint little inn in Wales, where they spent six weeks in almost as great a solitude as if they had been on some small island in the middle of the sea ; but with long walks, and tennis, and books and work for dull days, they managed to spend one of their most enjoyable holidays.

But this year the seaside had been unanimously voted for, and the girls, under the chaperonage of Fraulein Hofmann, the sedate, matter- A Doctor s Holiday. 27 of-fact German governess, had come to Brightsea, to some lodgings that had been recommended to Mrs Hastings by a friend, who had formerly occupied them. It had been arranged, that in the last week of the month for which the lodgings had been engaged, the doctor and his wife were to come down, and Phyllis was to go home, to keep house for her brother, who would not have his holiday till the rest of the family returned. There were no other doctors for some miles round this scattered country neighbourhood, and it would never do, therefore, for Dr Hastings and his son both to be away at the same time. Dinner had been ready for half-an-hour before Dr Hastings returned from seeing his old schoolfellow.