Valentine: a story of ideals

Front matter

VALENTINE Uniform with "Valentine," Crown 8vo, Art Linen, Gilt Top, price 6/- each. THE INN BY THE SHORE. By Florence Warden, Author of " The Houseonihe Marsh," etc. (Fourth Edition.) THE PO IVER OF THE DOG. By Rowland Grey. (Second Edition.) BLA CK DIAMONDS. By Maurus Jokai, Author of " Pretty Mie Aal," etc. (Third Edition.) JUD Y A JIL T. By Mrs. Conney, Author of"- Gold for Dross," etc. (Second Edition.) LAD YJEAN 'S SON. By Sarah Tytlfr, Author of "Lady Jean's Vagaries," etc. (Second Edition. ) COLOUR SERGEANT No. I COMPANY. By Mrs. Leith Adams, Author of " Bonnie I\ate," etc. (Fourth Edition.) THE GREEN BOOK. (Authorized Edition.) By Maurus Jokai. (Sixth Edition.) MY BONNIE LADY. By Leslie Keith, Author of ' ' Lisbeth" etc. (Second Edition. ) THE WINDS OF MARCH. By Georgr Knight. (Second Edition.)

FORBIDDEN BY LAW. By Major Arthur Griffiths, Author of "Secrets of the Prison House," etc. (Second Edition). A STRONG NECESSITY. By Isabel Don, Author of " Only Cldrchen," etc. PRETTY MICH AL. By Maurus Jokai. (Authorize i Edition.) ( Third Edition.) JABEZ NUTYARD. By Mrs. Edmonds, Author of '" Fair Athens," " The Herb of Love," "Amygdala," etc. MISS PROVIDENCE. By Dorothea Gerard, Author of "Lady Baby," "A Spotless Reputation" etc. (Third Edition). THE LION OF JANINA; or, the Last Days of the Janissaries. By Maurus J6kai. London : Jarrold & Sons 10 and ii Warwick Lane E.C. And of all Booksellers Yalentine A Sl'OR V OF IDEALS BY Curtis Yorke Author of "Hdsb!" "Once," "A Romance of Modern London,'' "Because of the Child," etc. SANS PEUR. ET SANS REPROCHE London: Jarrold & Sons IO AND II WARWICK LANE E.C. lS97 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED VALENTINE.

Chapter I

It was the 14th of February, and Valentine Glynn was seven years old that very day. It seemed to her a great age, for she could remember the day she was only six. This morning, as her prim-looking nurse Hannah was dressing her and rendering her generally pre sentable for the day, the child said, gravely, " Perhaps, Hannah, now that I'm so old I'd better be able to dress myself." Hannah went on brushing out Valentine's fluffy curls, and made no answer. These wild curls were a source of private grief to Valentine. They kept getting in her eyes, and were always in the way, somehow; and her grandfather would not allow them to be cut off " Hannah ! " repeated the little one, with an impatient shake of her head that sent the comb fly'ng. " I wish you to say things." VALENTINE. "Well, one thing I will say, Miss Valentine," was the snappish answer, " and that is that no mortial person can brush hair that's moving constant.

And as for dressing yourself of a morning, I suppose you don't want to go about like a little Crazy Jane, with strings and buttons all a-flying, and hair like doormats, not to mention a face only washed in the middle, if that." "Who was Crazy Jane?" inquired Valentine curiously. " Never you mind, miss. From all accounts she was no better than she should be, not to mention going about in a white sheet, which is not a custoom for any decent God-fearing woman. Now, Miss Valentine, come and have your breakfast, and try to get through the day without mischief." " I don't think you should scold me when it's my birthday," said the little one, her lip trembling. " Well, there, no I shouldn't, bless your dear solemn bit of a face," exclaimed Hannah impul sively ; " give me a kiss, and you shall look at your presents all over again while you're having your breakfast."

Valentine climbed into her chair, and alternately ate her bread and milk, and examined the morn ing's gifts. " Hannah," she said presently, " was Valentine's Day called after me, or me called after Valentine's Day ? " VALENTINE. 7 "You were called Valentine," Hannah answered, " because you were born on Valentine's Day, and your pore mother so wished it." "And then my mother died," said Valentine cheerfully. "And then your mother died, my lamb, so doing the best she could for herself, pretty dear, and per haps a blessed release, the Lord above knows." " Am I pretty, like my mother ? " asked the child, turning her great, serious eyes upon Hannah's rugged face. " No, my dear, you're not to say pretty, but you're always the little lady, and you've a winsome way with you, and always had." "Would people like me better if I was pretty?" pursued Valentine wistfully.

Hannah shook her head emphatically. "Not a bit of it, my dear. You try to be good, and never mind about being pretty. For a pretty face has been the curse of many, and no doubt so intended to be." " But couldn't I have been good and pretty too ? " faltered Valentine, vaguely conscious of an early handicap on her femininity. " Now don't you be an impious little creature," snapped Hannah. " The Lord knew what He was about when He made you, I suppose, and thankful, you ought to be that it wasn't His blessed will to VALENTINE. 8 send you into the world with less or more than the usual number of arms and legs, or all crooked, or perhaps with two heads." " Did you ever know anybody with two heads ? " inquired Valentine in a voice of awed interest. For this list of congenital peculiarities held a certain weird charm.

"No, I'm thankful to say I never did," said Hannah devoutly, " for my nerves is not equal to it. But I do remember my own sister's husband's aunt, who from birth had two thumbs on her left hand, and cried over it frequent, and made nothing out of it, not holding with exhibiting one's members in public shows and such-like, though a paying thing, no doubt, or else it stands to reason it wouldn't be done. So you just be thankful, my lamb, not only for what you've got, but for what you haven't got. For this world's a queer place, whether one's coming into it, or going out of it, and it takes a wise pair of lips to kiss the rod, what with one thing and another, and some days every thing going contrary even with Christians," con cluded Hannah, who was apt to become diffuse upon things in general.

Valentine finished her breakfast in silence, and retired to the corner of the nursery where her doll's house stood beside a small table. Here she set out her little array of gifts in the most effective VALENTINE. 9 way, and seated upon the floor in their midst, re-examined them with subdued chuckles of delight. Her grandfather had given her a large wax doll, with conversational powers of a limited nature, and eyes that opened and shut. It was very kind of grandfather; but somehow Valentine preferred the three small dolls that Uncle Jim had given her at Christmas. One was a brown-haired beauty with a china face of delicate white and pink ; one was a fierce-looking Highlander in the costume of his country ; and the third was a woolly-haired blacka moor with terrifying eyes that shone in the dark.

Uncle Jim had insisted on christening them "He," " She," and " It." Valentine mentally resolved that he should christen the new-comer also. Uncle Jim was one of her idols, and his word was law. His birthday present to her was a book of fairy tales with wonderful pictures that filled the small recipi ent's soul with mingled delight and fear. Aunt Coralie had given her a fat bottle of lavender water. Aunt Coralie was an invalid, and rarely left her room. Her small niece looked upon her as a kind of saint. Valentine's half-cousin Derrick Wedderburn had sent her a doll's tea set. She thought it very nice of him to remember that she had said only lately how much she should like one. She was rather in VALENTINE. 10 awe of this boy cousin ; but it was an awe untem pered by adoration. And this was unlike Valen tine, whose young soul rather leaned towards the setting up of idols.

Derrick was some seven or eight years older than she ; that is to say he was now between fourteen and fifteen. He was a quiet, undemonstrative lad, and had a practical healthy boy's good-humoured contempt for childish games and fancies. Thus he sometimes hurt Valentine's feelings quite deeply by refusing to join in her innocent little games of make-believe — these delightful fantasies of childhood prefaced by the magic words, " Let us pretend ! " "What's the use of pretending?" he would remonstrate sturdily, " when there are so many things to do really." Sometimes he allowed her to accompany him on fishing or bird's-nesting expeditions. But upon several of these occasions Valentine had disgraced herself by falling into shrieking paroxysms of horror while worms were being impaled, and by weeping bitterly because she was not allowed a certain amount of nests and eggs as her own par ticular share of the spoil.

Derrick had not been cross with her ; but upon the last of these occasions he had intimated that he would henceforth enjoy his favourite sports unaccompanied by Valentine. Over this decision Valentine had wept and screamed — VALENTINE. 11 being, indeed, something of a small vixen — but in vain ; for Derrick was of those who mean what they say and stick to it. The only other present Valentine had had was from Hannah. It was a small work-case, containing thimble, scissors, needles, and other accessories of industry. After an exhaustive survey of her treasures, Valentine remained in deep thought for some time, then rose and glanced round the big, low ceiled nursery. Yes, Hannah was gone. The child dragged a chair across the floor to the fireplace ; then climbed up and inspected herself dispassionately in the quaint old mirror over the mantel piece.

Even by standing on tiptoe, she could not see below her chin ; and what she saw was evi dently not pleasing to her. A quantity of curly mouse-coloured hair, a small white face, out of which eager questioning blue-grey eyes looked wistfully, a mouth none too small, through whose lips irregular little teeth gleamed. She got down from the chair, and sat down again upon the floor to think, her hands twisted tightly in her hair. This was her favourite thinking attitude. It seemed to her, after due consideration, that her want of beauty was due to the refractoriness of her hair, and the whiteness of her cheeks. She recalled the personality of Gilberte Fanshawe, her only VALENTINE. 12 child-companion. That young person had thick glossy golden hair, and cheeks the colour of newly opened roses. Hitherto, the matter of her own looks had not struck my youthful heroine.

Why they did so to-day I cannot tell. Ten minutes later a gasping little woman listed her head from a brief immersion in the wash-hand-basin, and flattened her drenched hair into as near an approach to Miss Fanshawe's coiffure as possible. A box of paints — Derrick's last Christmas present — was next called into requisition. Crimson lake seemed the nearest approach to Gilberte's enviable bloom ; therefore crimson lake was lavishly rubbed upon Valentine's pale cheeks, with a result that was appalling enough. Valentine herself, once more perched upon the chair before the mirror, gazed in horror. A real flush mounted from her chin to her forehead, and scrambling down again, she scrubbed her cheeks furiously until the crimson lake was transferred to a couple of towels. Then she seized her hat and ran out of doors.

It was a lovely spring-like morning, almost too warm for mid-February. The bright sun shone on Valentine's drenched curls, which were already beginning to re-assert themselves. She made her way down the avenue, across the road, through two fields and along the river bank, VALENTINE. ■3 until she came to a thick plantation of larches, in the midst of which crouched the picturesque ruins of a rambling ivy-grown mansion. This deserted spot had a strong fascination for Valentine. It was a dreamy delight to her to wander in and out of the tumble-down rooms, to hang perilously far out of the ivy-darkened windows, and imagine herself a fairy princess, like the wonderful princesses in Aunt Coralie's stories. For in winter, when she was not allowed to ramble out of doors alone, her great delight was to coax Aunt Coralie to tell her fairy stories.

And in these stories the princesses were always beautiful and wealthy and good, and therefore invariably entered into their merited heritage of " living happy ever after," with the all conquering princes of fairy lore. Valentine's childish fancy used to endow this grim old building with all the gorgeousness of a fairy palace, furnish it with reckless splendour, and people it with marvellous beings conjured up by her busy brain. For this somewhat lonely little creature was blessed — or cursed — with an imagination vivid enough for thrice her years. To-day, the fairy princess of the castle was having a birthday too. " A birthday with far more years than me," murmured the small romanticist as she hung out of her favourite window, " and more presents than all the people in the world could count."

VALENTINE. 14 At this point in her fancy-flight a sound appar ently from the room below made her start and listen. It came again and yet again, and sounded like someone moaning. Whereupon Valentine, who would have accepted without question any phenonomen that might take place in this her enchanted castle, proceeded to descend the steep and broken stairs leading to the lower part of the house. The moaning seemed to come from a room at the end of a short dim passage. Valentine pushed open the door and went in fearlessly. The apartment was low-ceiled and nearly dark, for the ivy had covered the window entirely. Only an uncertain and intermittent light stole in. A dark bundle lay in one corner, and from this corner the moaning came. In the middle of the bundle Valentine descried what looked like the face of a boy.

She bent over and touched it. " Boy ! " she said sternly. " Boy ! — you're tres passing! " She had often heard her grandfather address trespassers thus ; and she tried to make her voice as like his as possible. " Oh shut up," was the sullen answer with closed eyes and teeth. " You musn't be a rude boy," continued Valen tine in a warning voice, "or I will go away and leave you." VALENTINE. 15 The boy opened his eyes, and surveyed in silence the small person before him. "Why were you making that funny noise?" proceeded little Miss Glynn. " Is that how you cry ? " " No. Boys don't cry," the trespasser answered shortly. " I've bruised my foot so that I can't walk. Any fellow would groan a little for that." " Does it hurt much, boy ? " " Rather." " Are you hungry ? " Yes." " Why did you come here ?

" " Never you mind." "Are you a low, common boy? " The lad sat up, wincing as he did so. " Who are you ? " he asked. "Valentine," was theprompt answer. "But I won't hurt you." He seemed faintly amused. " You've got a dirty face," was the young lady's next observation. " You'd better have it washed." Then a sudden idea seemed to strike her, and she hurried towards the door, only stopping to call out, " I will come back, boy. You mustn't be lonely." It was a most business-like little figure that old Mr. Glynn overtook tramping at a furious rate up the avenue some ten minutes later. VALENTINE. "Hallo, Val!" he called out. "You're early afield, little maid. Come and give me a kiss." She complied demurely ; and then said, slipping her hand into his, " It was a lovely doll, grandfather. Thank you. Now, I want to speak about things."

Chapter II

" To speak about things, you solemn mite ? " echoed the old gentleman, looking down at her comically. " What kind of things, eh ? " Valentine walked along demurely for some seconds without speaking. Then she said, " Grandfather — if people are hungry does God like us to feed them ? " " Clearly," was the prompt answer. Old Mr. Glynn had been anything but a saint in his seventy and odd years of existence, but he was a rigid churchgoer, and more charitable than many men whose lives were, as far as the world knew, irreproachable. " And if their faces are dirty, must we wash them ? " went on the child earnestly. " And if their clothes are all old and ugly, give them new ones ? " "Why, one might do worse, little maid. It's well to give a helping hand where we can. But why do you want to know ? " " I must run away, grandfather, in case he isn't B VALENTINE. 18 there," was the unexpected answer.

" I'll tell you things after." When Valentine got back to her protege" in the empty house, she was somewhat out of breath, for she was laden with several curiously-shaped jDackages. The boy was lying exactly as she had found him, except that he was silent, and that his eyes were open. He watched with a languid interest while she unfolded the numerous paper wrappings that enveloped her parcels. "You must have your face and hands washed," was her first coherent remark. The lad made no objections ; indeed he breathed a sigh of evident satisfaction when Valentine, having rendered his face and hands comparatively clean by means of a wet and well-soaped flannel, dried his face severely with a moderately rough towel. " Is your face quite dry now, boy ? " she inquired somewhat breathlessly. He nodded, and glanced inquiringly at the other parcels.

" Now you must have things to eat, and milk to drink," went on his benefactress in an absorbed voice. As she spoke she produced a medicine bottle full of milk — traces of the medicine were not wanting, but that was a detail— three buns VALENTINE. 19 with large raisins imbedded therein, a dry piece of seed-cake, a box half full of chocolate creams, and an orange. Of these varied comestibles the lad made such short work that Valentine sat upon the floor speechless and amazed. " Are you a greedy boy ? " she asked slowly. " Yes," was the terse reply. " Everybody is greedy when they've had nothing to eat for two days." " And have you had nothing to eat for two days ? " This in a deeply shocked voice. " No. At least, not since yesterday. " Poor, poor boy. I'm so sorry. I will kiss you." " No, thanks.

I don't care about being kissed. But I'm awfully much obliged to you for the things." "What's your name, boy?" " Never mind about my name. You can just call me ' boy.' " "Very well, I will call you 'boy.' " I say, don't you tell anyone I'm here, you know." " Why ? " Because I tell you not to." " Very well, I won't then." After a pause she added, " I don't think you're a low, common boy." VALENTINE. 20 " Much obliged." As he spoke, he moved slightly, and groaned. " Does your foot hurt you awful ? " the little one asked compassionately. "Just now it does. But I daresay it will hurt less by to-morrow. I say, where do you live ? " "At The Hall. I am Squire Glynn's little grand-daughter." Oh. " I live with grandfather," she went on, " because my mother died when I was quite small, and my father was always dead.

At least," knitting her small brows, " I think he was always dead." " What made you come here ? " the boy asked presently. " Aren't you afraid to come to a lonely old place like this?" "Afraid ? " she echoed. "Why, this is my castle. I'm a fairy princess when I'm here." " Do you come every day ? " " Not when it's cold and wet. But when the sun shines, I always do." " And what do you do when you're a princess, you queer little thing ? " " Pretend things." " What kind of things ? " She looked at him critically. " To-day," she said, " I'm a princess that's being very kind to a beggar man at the gate. And I VALENTINE. 21 brought him in, and had him put in a bath, and gave him more things than he could eat " (this with some emphasis), " and sang to him." " Can you sing ? " She nodded. " Should you like me to sing to you ? ' "Oh, if you like."

" But you must say ' please,' " the little one said reprovingly. " Please, then," was the brief rejoinder. Whereupon Valentine broke into a low monot onous murmuring, not without a certain sweetness. The words she sang were slightly mixed, being indeed partly hymns, partly nursery rhymes, and partly compositions of her own. One verse which occurred frequently ran thus : '•' I want to be an angel, Round about the green fields, Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, And glory shone around." The air recalled the Old Hundredth, with dis tinct gleams here and there of certain popular comic songs, frequently whistled by Uncle Jim. The boy listened with a somewhat contemptuous smile at first, then his eyes closed, and after a time he slept. Valentine crooned on for a few minutes longer, then stopped, and bent over to look into the boy's face.

VALENTINE. 22 "Poor boy!" she whispered pityingly, "he's quite tired and sleepy. I'd better go away now." She was late for dinner ; which for her took place at one o'clock, and Hannah was rather snappish. " Where on earth have you been, Miss Valen tine ? " she exclaimed. " Keeping people anxious and not knowing if you'd fallen into the river, which is a thing most likely to happen, for my own brother-in-law's only child, a boy it was, and with hair as red as red, fell into the river constant, and was dead of consumption, no doubt through chronic dampness, before he was thirty, though of course they did say he inhaled it from his mother, which was a cruel label and untruth, as I well know." Hannah's relatives and family connections were singularly convenient in the way of pointing morals and adorning tales.

Even Valentine had marvelled at their varied and inexhaustible experiences. " And where have you been all the morning, and what have you been doing ? " continued Hannah severely, when her young charge had been washed and brushed, and arrayed in a fresh overall blouse. " Lots of things," the child answered, growing somewhat pink. VALENTINE. 23 " Now, Miss Valentine, don't you go concealing of things, like my own sister's child who concealed having put two beans up her nose, and in con sequence swelled cruel and had to be removed with instruments." " I haven't been putting beans up my nose," said the child demurely. " Then have you been wading in the river ? Which isn't a nice thing to do, for any little lady, not to speak of sharp stones and pools and water rats, which I have heard are as big as cats, and would remove a limb in no time, and teeth like razors.

For my own uncle in infancy, being left in his cradle unthinking, rats came and gnawed one ear off, which told greatly against him in after life, though not preventing his hearing all that was said and more. Now, Miss Valentine, don't put aside all the fat pieces of meat. Many a starving child would cry with thankfulness to see them." " I haven't been wading in the river," said Valentine. "And besides, I'm not afraid of rats." " Ah well, if your poor mother knew you were running wild all over the place like a Virginian creeper, she would turn in her grave. She wouldn't have allowed you to so demean yourself, not for the wealth of Injuns. But the Lord help the orphans say I, for there's no one else to do it in this world or . another. Now, Miss Valentine, VALENTINE. 24 you're eating your jam and leaving your rice, which is more than bad for your inside, as you'll find when you get Gregory's Mixture first thing in the morning.

All jam and no rice is as bad in a way as all rice and no jam. All in moder ation, and moderation in all, as we're specially warned." After dinner Valentine went to see Aunt Coralie. Aunt Coralie occupied a sunny suite of rooms in the west wing of The Hall. She was between forty and fifty, and had a certain faded prettiness, and a languid die-away voice. People said it was very sad, poor Miss Glynn being such a hopeless invalid, and that it was beautiful to see how sweetly she bore it. Hannah, however, had been heard to say that it was easy to be sweet when the best of everything was brought to you before you had time to ask for it, and as for aches and pains she didn't believe in them if there was no name for them ; and if there was no name for them, why, people might just as well not have them, for there was no credit in it.

And so on, and so on, in Hannah's most approved style, with various family illustrations. To-day Miss Glynn was lying upon the sofa in the sun, clad in a pale blue dressing-gown. She was reading a paper-bound novel, and a plate of purple grapes stood on a table by her side. VALENTINE. 25 " Well, Valentine," she said in a tired voice as her small niece entered, " I wondered what had become of you." " I've been very, very busy, auntie. But I liked the lavender water so much, and I've poured some on my handkerchief and on my hair, so that you could smell it whenever I came in. And thank you awfully." " There, there, dear, be careful. You are crushing my lace. You should learn to be gentle in your caresses." Valentine looked snubbed. She was never quite sure whether Aunt Coralie would be in an affectionate mood, or in an irritable mood.

Evidently to-day she verged towards the latter. Presently she said, " Now run away, like a good child. I'm busy reading, and I have a headache. And shut the door gently. Sometimes you bang it so." And Miss Glynn returned to her book again, while her niece stole out subduedly. Later in the afternoon Valentine coaxed a few tea-cakes from cook, who adored her, filled an empty cod-liver-oil bottle with milk, and, snatching up a heavy shawl of Hannah's, flew to the house among the larches. She found the boy awake, and sitting up in the corner, looking very pale and cross. He seized at once upon the milk VALENTINE. and tea-cakes, and disposed of them swiftly as before. "Are you going to sleep here?" inquired Valentine. "I suppose I'll have to. My foot won't be ready for walking till the morning, if then."

" Well, I brought this shawl for you to sleep in," said Valentine gravely. "Perhaps you might be cold in the night." "Thanks. You're a decent little soul." Valentine took a temporary seat on the shawl, and asked hesitatingly, " Have you run away ? " " Yes, I have. How did you know ? " " I just thought. From school, have you ? " " Yes." " Why ? " " Because they were a beastly set of cads. I'm fourteen, and I'm not going to be ordered about like a kid of ten. I hope you haven't told anyone about my being here ? I don't want to be hauled back again. I'm going to my Uncle Ben. He thinks a lot of me, and is going to make me his heir, I mean he's going to leave me all his money. You haven't told, have you ? " " I said I wouldn't," the child answered slowly "so of course I didn't." " How early can you be here in the morning ? asked the boy presently.

VALENTINE. 27 " After breakfast," was the prompt answer. "What do you have for breakfast?" he con tinued. " Bread and milk, all boiled up with sugar." He made a face. " Well look here, I want to leave early, and I shall be jolly hungry before I get to my uncle's. So couldn't you bring me a little package of bread and meat, and another bottle of milk, a bigger one? " "I'll ask cook," said Valentine, after brief consideration. Then she rose, and held out her hand. " I'm going home to tea now," she said. " Good night." " Good-night. Don't forget to come to-morrow." They shook hands gravely, and Valentine ran home, taking the path along the river. As she trotted on, thinking vaguely of the mysterious boy, and wishing she could have given him a nice new coat, his being sadly torn and moss-stained, she heard a squeaking, panting noise, and saw some small object struggling in the water.

At considerable personal risk, she fished it out carefully, and to her inconceivable delight, found it to be a small terrier puppy, whose fate was evidently to have been the fate of legions of puppies who have the misfortune to be members VALENTINE. of large families. Valentine wrapped the trembling little beast in her frock, and ran all the way home. She burst excitedly into her grandfather's study, and found him engrossed in cartridges and looming through tobacco smoke, in company with Uncle Jim. "May I keep it, grandfather?" she cried with shining eyes, as she produced her dripping burden. " Do let me keep it. I found it in the water, and it's my birthday present to myself." The Squire laughed goodnaturedly, and gave the required permission. Uncle Jim placed the new acquisition on the table, and regarded it critically.