A Pinch of Experience ... Illustrated by G. Browne

Chapter I Rhoda

' A boisterous little maid. So gay, As she'd been laughing all the day And half the night.' ' Don't see any good of girls going away from home,' growled the Squire. 'It is nothing but spending money, and picking up tomfoolery. The whole thing is non sense.' ' Still, girls do go,' said Mrs. Lupton, ' and, — ' but she was allowed to proceed no further. 'Oh, girls do go, no doubt,' retorted her husband, ' girls do go — trust them for that. B CHAr. Girls will do any mortal thing, so long as it is only mad enough. The child will come back as vain as a peacock, stuck all over with airs and graces. What were you thinking about to give in to her ? ' ' / give in to her ! ' The horrified accents fell on deaf ears. 'Yes, you,' proceeded Mr. Lupton obsti nately. ' You made me. L should never have thought of it ; it would have been the last thing in the world I should have given my consent to, the last house I should have cared for Rhoda to go to, — if you had not given me to understand that you approved.' 'Why, my dear — do be just, my dear.' The speaker was the sweetest - tempered woman in the world, but it would have been contrary to human nature not to have entered a protest.

She had scarcely been asked, had certainly yielded no manner of consent to an impetuous demand, ere it had been whirled on to the still higher court of appeal. ' My dear,' she now remonstrated RHODA 3 in the mildest of accents, ' recollect that Rhoda came running to me — no, running is not the word — came dancing and screaming with delight, to tell me that you said she was to go to London, and had agreed to ' ' Pooh! pooh! that is nothing. That simply proves nothing at all ; ' but lofty as was the wave of the hand which accompanied the words, Mr. Lupton could not deny the truth of the statement. ' We have been as weak as water,' he proceeded, shabbily shifting his ground ; ' the fact is, we always are weak wherever Rhoda is concerned. We let her tread upon our necks, and — you mark my words, Dorothy — we'll rue it yet.

Well, she must have her way in this, I suppose ; it is too late to put a stop to it now, and ,' ' Yes, indeed.' ' And I must write her a cheque, and not a penny of the money but will go into the pockets of thieves and sharpers.' His wife prudently made no disclaimer. ' How much will she want ? ' proceeded he. CHAP. ' Oh, that you must judge about, my dear.' ' I must judge, must I ? That means you think you will get more out of me by leaving it to my honour, as a cabman does, than by fixing an amount,' shrewdly. ' Will fifty pounds do ? ' demanded the speaker, after a moment's pause. Now Mrs. Lupton did not see how by any manner of means a daughter whose outfit was already completed down to the most trifling detail, could contrive to disburse fifty pounds during a short visit to the house of a relation, even though that relation lived in the metropolis — a place which every one knows has an insatiable maw for pounds, shillings, and pence — but she was one of those far-seeing individuals who never refuse a good offer ; she was aware that it was absolutely immaterial to her husband whether five, fifty, or five hundred were the figures he wrote in his comfortable, bulky cheque book ; and she placidly told herself that if Rhoda did not want it at one time she would RHODA I 5 at another, and that it would only be saving a fresh discussion to have a lump sum in hand for general use.

Wherefore, 'That will do very nicely,' she said, without raising her eyes from her needle work, and the cheque-book was drawn out. Does any man, any householder, husband, or father, like to write a cheque ? Bachelors may. They have got their pennyworth for their penny — or if they have not got it, no one else has. The penny has not gone to provide pennyworths for a set of gaping young mouths which will swallow and gape again in a twinkling. It has provided the purse-holder's own clothes, or his own food, or his club subscription, or his railway fare — something, or anything, which conduces or has conduced to his own personal comfort or luxury ; and the consciousness of this bears him up through the ordeal of lessening, one by one, the magic leaves, — but your honest paterfamilias shies and winces at the hard necessity.

If it had not been for the prospect of the moment now before him possibly the pro prietor of Lupton Manor — a glorious old estate in the Midlands, which had rebounded from many an agricultural depression, and was now in as flourishing a condition as heart of landlord could desire — Squire Lupton, we say, would have seen nothing so very dreadful in his darling Rhoda's desertion of him for a brief fortnight in the house of her town-bred relations. True, she was the apple of his eye and the idol of his heart ; but as such, he could deny her nothing ; and she had won his consent by the aid of only half a dozen kisses and a pretended box on the ear. It was only when it came to furnishing the sinews of war that he faced about, as we have seen, and roundly made assertions and accusations which had never passed his lips before.

The cheque, however, was written, and presented to Rhoda. Rhoda took it, without even glancing at I RHODA 7 it. To do a spoilt child justice, she was not mercenary nor rapacious ; and never having experienced a want in her life, she neither knew when she was well off nor would have guessed it had she been stinted. 'There, you see,' protested Mr. Lupton, in an injured voice, ' Rhoda does not even look at it. She does not know what she has got. She will never know how it goes. It is simply chucking money into the mud ' ' Oh, nonsense, papa,' said Rhoda cheerfully. ' Is it enough for you ? Is it too much ? Here, give it back, and I will write you a smaller one. Now that I think of it, you will be leaving your purse about all over the place. Much better let me send you what you want by post-office orders,' holding out his hand.

But Rhoda skipped aside nimbly. ' None of your tiresome, stupid post-office orders for me ! ' cried she, with a toss of disdain. ' If I leave my purse behind me, I'll buy another ; and is I lose my money, I'll write to you for more.' By George ! You will, will you ? ' ' Oh yes, my dear papa, I will. You may be very sure I will,' Rhoda nodded till a curly lock fell aslant over her forehead. ' I should not think of troubling my uncle Robert ' For Heaven's sake, don't do that ! ' So you see, there is no fear of my not knowing what to do if I run short.' What could any one say ? Rhoda had them both under her little pink thumb, as all three were perfectly aware ; and even in the rueful glance which passed between the parents now, there lurked such a covert pride and ill-concealed admiration that Rhoda burst out laughing, and ran to hug them both in her arms. ' It is quite wonderful that Rhoda Lupton is not worse than she is,' a certain sharp tongued neighbour was wont to declare, when referring to the heiress of the neighbourhood.

I RHODA 9 ' She is a pert, saucy girl, and very dis respectful to her parents, as well as to everybody else — but I believe she has a heart. I fancy if the old people would only stand up to her, and not let her torment them ,' but here the speaker was inter rupted by a shout of remonstrance from her audience. Nobody present but knew that Rhoda's tormenting was the life of Lupton Manor. Lupton Manor was, it must be confessed, a more imposing than lively abode. It was enclosed on every side by its own park and its own woods ; it was unapproachable by reason of its grandeur ; even the lodges were miles away from the house ; and the avenues which the great gates terminated, were gloomy from the shade of arching elms overhead. Had there been no Rhoda to bound along the formal pathway and clear the prim fence, the sunshine might indeed have played upon the sward, and flecked the lawn, but none ■ A PINCH OF EXPERIENCE CHAP. 10 would have entered into the breasts of those who trod the emerald turf.

It was Rhoda who would have tea out of doors beneath the deodoras, when the hot days of summer came ; Rhoda who ordered dinner to be served in the 'sunset room,' when the September sunsets illumined the western sky ; Rhoda who sent to London for all the new games and pastimes, and made old Lockjaw himself preside over the marking of courts and boundaries ; Rhoda who, in all weathers, saw to it that the horses were ordered round in good time for the meet, wherever the meet might be, during the hunting season ; Rhoda who must needs have the ponds illuminated by myriads of lamps and lanterns when the frost was keen and the moon not kind ; Rhoda, in short, who kept every one up and down the house in such an exhilarating state of suspense and apprehension as to what she would do next, in such a fever of doubt as to granting her demands, and in such a fear of each other I RHODA 11 when each weak concession had been made, that, as we have said, stagnation of the good old-fashioned sort was impossible, with such a young firebrand ever on the fizz.

Rhoda's parents were really too old to have been plagued with such a daughter. True, she was the light of their eyes, and the object of their lives ; but how peacefully might they not have mouldered away into the moss-grown burial-ground which held the bones of their ancestors, had it not been for this exuberant young creature who tugged and strained the other way ! There was no peace ; no droning, nor slumbering, nor drowsing through the jog trot hours while she was about. She wanted this, and she wanted that She tore to shreds time-worn theories, and bowled over the most venerable traditions with a laugh. Nothing was sacred in her eyes. Her father's enamelled repeater — a relic of courtly days gone by — had been known to do duty as a letter-weight, whilst her mother's dainty sunshade had been handy for a dredging net.

The old couple might scold each other, and tell each other how foolish they were. They never scolded Rhoda. Directly Rhoda's step was audible, or the notes of her glad young voice were heard carolling as she approached, there would be an end to complaint and protest. They might have been rating each other — at least the elderly husband might have been giving the elderly wife a piece of his mind, and the elderly wife might have been re ceiving the same for as much as it was worth — but they were shamefaced about continu ing the subject if Rhoda's little bark drew up alongside. For Rhoda was, in nine cases out of ten, herself the subject. Each parent felt sure the other was at fault in the management of the household darling, yet each had too many prickings of conscience on the same score, and too deeply rooted a sympathy with the RHODA I 13 very crime to be denounced, to make any soreness or bitterness mingle with accusations and recriminations.

As has been seen above, Rhoda's last tax upon paternal and maternal benevolence had been contained in her resolution to accept an invitation from her maternal uncle — a brother-in-law whom Mr. Lupton detested, and for whom even his wife had not much affection, — and to see something of the great world of London from the Cleveland Square point of view. Cleveland Square sounded alluring in Rhoda's ears. She had no idea in what part of the metropolis it was situated ; she had never been inside her uncle's house in her life, and she knew but little of his family. To her they were distinctly strangers sojourning in a strange land. All the same she was not to be daunted. One of the results of the universal sub mission and homage rendered to their sove reign lady by her lieges at the manor was I 14 that Rhoda was a victim to an even greater share of youthful self-confidence than is common to seventeen.

Heaven knows that age has usually its full quota ; but as for my heroine, there was nothing Rhoda did not know ; no subject upon earth as to which she had not an opinion ; no moot point which her sagacity could not settle in the twinkling of an eye. Really it was hardly her fault. ' Ask Rhoda,' or ' What does Rhoda think ? ' together with 'Will Miss Rhoda please tell me what to do ? ' from humbler tongues, were phrases so constantly being uttered in her hearing, incense so continually being offered up before her shrine, that only an angel could have resisted the inevitable effect. And Rhoda Lupton was by no means an angel. She was well hit off by the pene trating old lady who averred it was wonderful that she was no worse than she was. Per haps all the poor girl really needed was the experience which was about to befall her.

Chapter II

' I SHOULD INVITE UNCLE ROBERT HERE TO -MORROW ' To Cleveland Square Rhoda would go. From the very first moment that the idea entered her head it obtained complete mastery over her imagination. Where Cleveland Square was, as we have said, she knew not. Whether it were north or south, east or west, a fashionable or un fashionable locality, she possessed not the faintest suspicion. To her mind it represented London — London, and London life — and for the moment that thought was paramount to the exclusion of every other. Yet it must not be supposed that our CHAr. young heiress had up to the present date never beheld the metropolis. Far from it. Mrs. Lupton would have told you that she and her husband had done their duty with extreme precision in that respect. They both disliked London ; it disagreed with them and upset them ; but they had not allowed any disinclination on their part to prevent their child's having her due.

She had been taken up at intervals — every other year, or so — taken up for a fortnight, — shown the sights and the shops, — per mitted to replenish her stores of toys and books, — she had heard Patti sing, — she had gone to the Handel Festival at the Crystal Palace, — she had come home laden with treasures and reminiscences. This was the fond parents' tale Hark to Rhoda's. ' Oh yes, we went to London — horrid old London — how I did hate it ! We were stuck there for a whole fortnight ; and I never could go outside the hotel door without papa '/ SHOULD INVITE UNCLE ROBERT' II 17 or mama. I could not even go about with my maid Praidfoot ; for mama thought Praidfoot did not know her way, and we might get lost ! I don't want to do that fortnight again, thank you. Lupton is good enough for me.' Rhoda was, however, only thirteen when she made the above declaration ; and, although she adhered resolutely to it during the next three years, all who profess to understand feminine nature will be quite prepared to learn that by the time my heroine entered upon the fourth there was a change.

Books had been read, chatter had been hearkened to, many things had been pon dered over. The old life, the merry free hearted open-air life of a country maid, was not as all-sufficient as it had been. Undefined longings and yearnings were at work within the breast. Day dreams were in the air. ' I want to see for myself what the world is like. I want to meet people and talk to c CHAP. 18 people, and find out about everything,' cried Rhoda to herself. ' But if I tell mama this, she will instantly work upon papa to take me up to that terrible old hotel again, and " show me the sights." Oh, those sights! My only safety is in not being supposed to care for the sights. It is not them I want : it is — I don't know what it is. I want girls. I want fun. I want to be away from papa and mama.' (Rhoda was an affectionate daughter, but she was simply stating a fact.) ' I am very fond of papa and mama, of course, but they do cling to one rather,' sighed she. ' They hang upon one's skirts so, poor things.

I can't go anywhere, or do anything, without having to tell all about it, and be worried as to whether I enjoyed myself, and whether I was not over-tired, and all that ? Now if I could only go away, as girls do in story-books, — go off by myself on a nice long visit, — go to a jolly house, a house full of girls and boys of my own age, with no one to bother and follow me about ! '/ SHOULD INVITE UNCLE ROBERT' 19 I am old enough now to take care of myself. I don't need to have such a fuss made over me, and such pains taken to settle everything for me. I can manage my own affairs without troubling anybody. All I ask is to be let alone.' At this juncture she would not have minded where or to whom the visit was to be paid. 'If people would only ask me!' was her solitary aspiration, her one supreme desire.

Naturally, however, nobody did ask her ; nobody would ever have presumed to take such a liberty ; indeed few people would have cared to have such a responsi bility. Rhoda was a treasure — people are a little shy about begging for the loan of treasures. And then my youthful heroine was badly off for relations, her father having been an only son and her mother a member of a very small family, only one of whom, a brother, had married. This brother was not a favourite, but nevertheless from him and his CHAP. eventually emanated the invitation which turned Lupton upside down. Prior to this date Rhoda had been growing more and more confirmed in her own mind as to the absolute necessity for going some where, taking flight in some direction or other, — but she had hardly expected the somewhere to take the shape it did until within a few months of the time at which our little story opens.

She must go somewhere ; that was the great thing. By and by she began to ask about her cousins, her unknown Sanquhar cousins, and Mrs. Lupton learned to dread the straight look of her eyes and the resolute tone of her voice as she settled herself down for con versation on that subject. Rhoda was so very straight — so very resolute. She would dive to the bottom of every uncomfortable subject ; and the suspicion that it was uncomfortable had an effect only the reverse of deterrent. '/ SHOULD INVITE UNCLE ROBERT' II 21 By degrees it had grown upon her that her mother avoided to the very best of her ability, all mention of her married brother and his family. This — I am sorry to say it, but it was so — this was sufficient for Rhoda in one of her moods. She would now start the forbidden topic perpetually.

Why had she never made friends with these cousins ? Why did they never come to Lupton ? Why did her father and mother never go to Cleveland Square ? ' It is only lately that your uncle and aunt have moved to Cleveland Square, my dear.' ' Well, where were they before ? They were somewhere else before, I suppose ? ' They were in Russell Square before.' Where is Russell Square ? ' In Bloomsbury.' But Bloomsbury is in London.' Oh yes ; it is in London.' ' And we have been to London, but we never went to Bloomsbury.' CHAP. ' We did not go the last time, because the house was upset ; being papered and painted, I think. We went — at least your father and I did — the previous time.' 'Oh.' Rhoda was but ill satisfied. 'You never took me, mama,' added she, presently. ' Did we not ? Perhaps not. It was a long way to go ; ' and poor Mrs. Lupton moved uneasily in her chair. ' Not so long as to the Zoo, or to Kew Gardens, I daresay,' said Rhoda, laughing. ' Mama, do you know what you are doing ?

You are prevaricating.' ' Prevaricating, Rhoda ? ' mildly interrogative. ' Yes, prevaricating,' repeated Rhoda, with severe denunciation, ' and that is as bad as — well, I daresay you don't mean it, but still, mama, you know, you do know,' patronis ingly, ' that you ought not to try to put me off like that. It had nothing to do with Bloomsbury 's being a long way off from the Langham Hotel that we saw nothing of '/ SHOULD INVITE UNCLE ROBERT' 23 uncle Sanquhar's family the last time we were in London ; and it has nothing to do with Lupton's being a long way off from London that we never have any of them here.' ' We do have them here. We had your uncle and aunt here two years ago.' ' I did not mean them ; I was not thinking of them.' ' You were thinking of the young people ? ' ' Of course, mama.' Mrs. Lupton made a fresh movement : Rhoda's great eyes were fixed upon her. ' I had better tell the truth,' she said to herself; and accordingly the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, had been explained at full length, and the curiosity if nothing else of her auditor had been as suaged.

After all, the truth had proved to be rather a poor affair, not at all exciting nor romantic. There was no brotherly and sisterly feud ; no raging anger and jealousy between the families ; no terrible story to be told ; no insurmountable barrier to be revealed. Simply the Sanquhars were rather vulgar folks, and Mrs. Lupton was ashamed of belonging to them. ' I daresay I ought not to feel it as I do,' she now confided to her daughter, making a clean breast, and perhaps on the whole relieved by being able to do so ; ' but it is uncomfortable and awkward. When I meet Robert and Charlotte, and have to be sisterly, and inquire into all their domestic concerns, and take an interest in their prospects, I feel constrained and unlike myself. All the time I am talking and trying to be easy and chatty, I am hoping they will think me kind, and be satisfied with the attention I am paying, and not complain, as poor Robert did once, that I had grown "too fine" for him and his.

I am sure, Rhoda, I had no idea of being "fine," and no one ever called me so but him. But it is the truth, I am afraid, that I am not — not quite in accord with the rest of my family.' '/ SHOULD INVITE UNCLE ROBERT' II 25 ' Are the others like uncle Robert ? ' 'Very like. Both James and George are. Their living in Australia, however, makes all the difference. I don't understand how it is, I am sure,' with a sigh of perplexity. 'The sons took after my father's house, and were — well, rather rough and ready ; and Robert's marrying beneath him ' ' Oh, he married beneath him, did he ? ' ' Perhaps I should not have said " beneath him." I hardly meant that. But a man may marry a woman who does him no good, who does not improve him in any way, who is no advantage to him mentally or socially, with out its being what you can call a mesalliance.

You can understand that, Rhoda ? Your aunt Charlotte is a very worthy sort of woman ; she suits your uncle Robert, and I believe does her duty, in as far as she knows it, to him and her children. But she is ' here the speaker paused. ' Oh, I know ; you can't abide her, mama.' ' My dear Rhoda, what a word to use ! I never said as much as that.' ' Oh, didn't you though ? ' Rhoda laughed. ' Why, dear me, you said it just now in every tone of your voice. And besides, / know ' — nodding sagaciously — ' I know all about it I guessed it pretty much before. When I found out that uncle Robert and aunt Charlotte hardly ever came here — and he your own brother, your only brother in England ' 'Yes, yes.' Mrs. Lupton knitted her brow restlessly, opened her mouth, and then shut it again without speaking. ' Of course I knew that there could be only one reason,' said Rhoda, with her eye upon her. ' A sister does not treat a brother like that for nothing.

Poor uncle Robert,' after a pause. ' I daresay he wishes he were not vulgar, and that he might come to Lupton ' ' Rhoda, what are you saying ? ' Rhoda's mother reddened hastily. ' My dear child, you '/ SHOULD INVITE UNCLE ROBERT' II 27 really — I ought not to let you talk so. You know you are older now, and so I thought that I might, once for all, have a little private talk about that branch of our family ' ' Nay, mama, you " did not think that you might have the talk," / forced it out of you. I was determined to know — and now I do know. And I say, once for all, that I am sorry for poor uncle Robert ; and if Lupton were my house, I should write and invite him here to-morrow.' From which it will be seen that the young lady rode with far too high a hand, and that even when she was intent upon a praise worthy purpose she was apt to mar its lustre by the shape it took in her hands.

When her uncle Robert came she was bound to uphold him in her own mind, through thick and thin. He might be a short, stout, stuffy little man, with a difficulty in breathing, and an inclination to cough, and sneeze, and blow his nose riotously in public. He might have a CHAP. rasping voice and an incessant laugh. He might appear in carpet slippers at breakfast time. Rhoda was ready to defend even the carpet slippers. She looked upon both uncle and aunt as her own property ; and a derogatory word passed upon either by any one would have been a rare opportunity for her ready tongue. A spirit of opposition was one of the most powerful factors within the heart of our spoilt child at this period. She was fain to run across other people's paths, and rub out the old lines. It went against the grain to accept anything for granted, and to fall in with any established principles and prejudices.

For every remark she had a ' Why ? ' Why must such and such a statement be laid down ? Why must such and such an article of faith be believed in ? Occasionally indeed the ' Whys ' prefaced interrogations so simple that the veriest child '/ SHOULD INVITE UNCLE ROBERT' 29 could have answered them after a moment's reflection, yet it was no part of Rhoda's business to afford that moment. She loved to sound her battle-note of 'Why}' and ' why ' should she not ? On the other hand, there was much that was noble and distinctive about my youthful heroine. Rhoda was profoundly sincere. There could be no doubt that she meant every word she said (for the moment), even if the words were not all they should have been. When she declared that she found her uncle Robert pleasant and good-humoured, protesting that she was willing to walk with him and to ride with him, she was not makingbelieve.

No one else found Mr. Sanquhar an agreeable guest, nor was soli citous for his company. That was enough for his niece. The very fact created in her bosom a perfectly honest blindness towards his shortcomings, both as a personage and as a companion. She knew by instinct — for neither parent would have so far forgotten the ties of blood and of hospitality as to betray themselves openly — that they were alike wincing beneath her uncle's noisy tread and voice ; that his tricks of manner, his snufflings, and breath ings, and fidgetings, were none of them unnoticed, and were so many pin-pricks of annoyance. She divined that his inquisitiveness, his curiosity about the menage, his hints and his surmises, all went into the same scale, • — that, in short, he went down with no one, and was despised by the servants and retainers as much as by their master and mistress.