A Double Thread

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Contents

TBS WBLFOSDS ....

THE WELFORDS' PARTY

JACK LS UESURIBR

Chapter II. The Welfords

<" Preserve me from the commonplaee,' I cried, 'Nor let me wilk the vulgmr people's way ; I long to tread a loftier path than they Who eat and drink, aii<l thiak of nought beside 1'"

MR. WELFORD was what is called a self-made man ; and it is but fair to say that the finished article did credit to its manufacturer. There waa no humbug about him, and he possessed an abundance of common' •ense, while bis kindness of heart was inexhaustible.

As a wife, Mis. Welford was unexceptionable; as a woman, most uninteresting. James Welford's earliest ambition had been to marry one of the Miss Snapes of Tiawley ; but it would have seemed to him invidious — not to say impertinent — to have picked out one of the sisters specially. He would as soon have thought of saying which lump of sugar he would take at tea, or which mutton chop at diimer. It was enough to sute that one would take sugar in one's tea, or dine off a mutton chop — further fastidiousness was quite out of place. All the Miss Snapes were equally fair and buxom and well-dowered ; and bo James Welford was quite content when Jane was aUotted to him. He would have been equally pleased — though not more so — had it been Emma or Maria, or Mary Ann.

The WeUbrds had two children, Percy and Julia. In the case of Peiqr Welford, priggishness was cultivated into a i8 a Stouble Ii;brea&

science. He was the type of young man who considers himself equal to teach anj'body anything, and — had the occasion been granted to him — he would willingly have instructed Milton in sonnet-writing and Michael Ai^elo in the fine aits. If he read anything that he failed to undersUnd (which was not infrequently), he said it was not English ; and he condemned as vulgar all forms of success {and they were not few) to which he had failed to attain. More* over, he took himself seriously, and had no sense of humour; and if other people's o^Hnions were diflcrent fiiom his, he said that they grated upon him.

Nevertheless Percy had his good points. He was devoted to his mother, and he kept a conscience^ This conscience he treated veiy much as small children treat their nurses ; that is to say, he cried " Bo 1 " to it, and tried to frighten it with bogies, and pretended to shock it out of its wits ; but, all the same, he would no more have dared seriously to disobey it than he would have tried to fly.

Julia Welford was of an opposite type to her brother ; she was less conceited and therefore more unhappy. She was one of the unlucky women whose outer seeming and inner feelings do not match each other; and she had an intense craving for aflection, without any corresponding power to command the same. She was a handsome girl, and ought to have been attractive ; but unfortunately she was utterly lacking in that indefinable quality which men call charm, so her undeniable good looks did not count. Julia Welford expected too much of everybody and everything; therefore disappointment was her inalienable portion. She was always overdrawing her account at the bank of life, and consequently having her cheques dishonoured. She had never grasped the fact that the measure wherewith we mete is the only measure which we have a right to demand ; and that as we can only give of our very best to one person, we should expect only one person to

Vbe 7Rneifot&0 19

give of his or her very best to as. Poor Julia, however, expected to be first in the estimation of people iriio occupied about the twenty-fifth place in her scale of attachment ; and when she found that she was naturally not the pnmaiy consideration in these cases, she cried her eyes out, and exclaimed that love was a snare and friendship vanity. She had no sense of proportion.

The Welfords' house was laige and ugly and comfortable, and was called Fairlawn. It was situated on the outskirts of the pretty little village of Sunnydale ; and Mr. Welford and Percy went every day by train to the neighbouring town of Tnwley to attend to their business.

One day, about a week after Christmas, Percy inquired of his &mily, who were assembled round the tea-table :

" Has any one seen anything of the new otganist who has come to Sunnydale in old Lester's place ? "

" I have seen him, my dear," replied Mrs. Welford ; " he is quite an old man, and stoops dreadfully, but Mrs. Bailey tells me he is a pleasant person to talk to."

" Did Mrs. Bailey give you any further information about him or his &mily ? " Percy inquired.

"Yes; she told me all about them," replied Percy's mother, settUi^ herself down comfortably to the recital of such news as she had gleaned. Mrs. Welford dearly loved to talk; it was her one recreation, and she never lost an opportunity of indulging in it The strange thing was that doing it so much did not teach her to do it better — in short, that such continual practice did not come within measurable distance of some sort of conversational perfection. The excellent lady possessed the gift of making supremely uninteresting every subject that she chose to toQch] the moat thrilling iiiformation became tame and spuidess in Mrs. Welfbrd's bands. And this arose partly fiom the fict that in telling a story she was incapable of separating the giain &om the chaff, and leaviiQ out the noti* s» a Wottut xcbtab

** the oUiqne onliDn.'

"Imet Mn. BaDcriboota fartaj^ 401,* Ae bepn; "hat DO — I thmt it mint be HaecwtAs, betane I£>- tinctly idoember tba: dioe wis no now on die gnond, as I fibonld not have stood sdll in the tod to ^eik to anybody if there had been ; and I an snre tfan snow bn been 1711% over a nrtn^^it abcaoy-

"It fen esacUy a fiatni^ to-^* Biiwed oatjofia; " but mbgt has that to do with die new tKgaM and his

" Nothing, mj dear, nothing ; but I was jost woodering how long it was since Uis. Bailey spoke to me aboot dion. If, as you say, it is a fall fixtnigfat since the mow (60, it must be nearly three weeks since the day I stopfwd to talk to Mis. Bailey in the road. It was a wondeifiilly waim day for the time of year, as we stood talking for at least fite minutes — ot it mi^t have been ten — withoot fe^ng diiDed in the my least'

" WeQ, continue about Ur. Morpn," in l cr rapte d Percy.

"As I was saying, Mrs. Bailey said to me. * Hrs. WeUnd. have yoQ called upon our new oiganist yet ? ' 'Jio^ Urs. Bailey,' I said, ' I have not done so, it beii% such a btuy time just now prepaiing for f>"«*™a* ; and I always make a point of seeing to the plum-puddings and die tpoed beef and the mince-pies myself, as, if you leave them to servants, there is sore to be some mistake ; either the beef is not Qricy enough, or die minc^-meat tastes cf suet ' Yon are quite right, Mrs. Welford,' replied iSis. Bailey ; ' if yon want a thing well done do it yourself and don't leave it to anybody.' She is really a most sensible woman."

Percy made anodier attempt to lead his wandering patent into the convetsational paths where he wished her to walk.

Vbe MelforDs 31

" But vbat about the Morgans, mother ?"

" I was just telling you about them, my love, if you had not tntemipted tne. ' Mr. Morgan is an interesting old man,' continued Mrs. Bailey, 'and an accomplished musician; and his wife is an oicellent woman in her way, though her tongue is too sharp for my taste.' 'Mrs. Bailey,* I said, ' that is a pity ; the wife of a professional man should never have a shup tongue. It may do harm to her husband, and can do herself no good.' "

" Did Mrs. Bailey tell you anything else about them ? " asked the insatiable Percy.

"Ye^ a great deal, which I will repeat to you if you will only give me time," replied his mother. " It appears that the Morgans have a granddaughter living with them — aa extremely handsome girl ; at least she doesnt exacdy live with them, as she has a situation, I believe, as a govemeis or companion or something, and makes their very small income a little larger by her salary; but she spends her holidays with them, and she is at home now."

" I have seen hei," exclaimed Percy ; " she is a ' phantom of del^ht'"

" Right you are," agreed his father ; " I think she is one of the best-looking girls I ever saw in my life."

"She is vilely dressed," remarked Julia; "she wears ready-made clodies, and does her hair in an obsolete fashion. I don't admire her at all."

"You never do admire other girls," said her brother pleasantly ; " you are so consumedly jealous."

Julia's face flushed and her eyes filled with tears. She was always laying herself open to nasty knocks, and then crying when the inevitable occurred.

" I am not jealous," she retorted angrily. " How could I be jealous of a girl who dresses badly and can't even do her own hair prc^rly ? Besides, she has got such horrid mannets, and has all the assurance and assertiveness of a

33 a Double tnreab

woman who is eammg her own liviog. She seems to me a detestable sort of girL"

" Nevd mind, Judy," said her lather kindly ; " there is room in the world for two handsome women, yon know, and lovers enough for both and to spare. So you need not grudge the organist's granddaughta ha good looks, for you have your full share yourself, my dear."

Mr. Welfoid was a very pleasant man in all things save matters ecclesiastical He was so thoroughly pleased with himself that he looked at life through rose-toloured spectacles. Consequently the people who lived with him loved him ; while those who only met him occasionally laughed at him a great deal.

" Where have you seen Miss Morgan ?" Percy inquired of his sister.

" Her name isn't Morgan, it is Harland," answered Julia. " Her mother was Mr. Morgan's daughter, and died when she was a baby. She (the mother, I mean) had married very much above her, and her husband's people never would recognize her, as it was a runaway match."

" Then where is the husband now ? " asked Percy.

" Oh 1 he died abroad, after he had been married a fen months, and the widow did not long survive him. She left twin daughters, bom after their father's death; and her parents adopted the one, while his people took the other on condition that the latter had nothing to do with her mother's relations."

" It is rather rough on this one," said Mr. Welford, " for her twin sister to be living in luxury while she has to work for her own living."

Percy agreed with his lather. " Extremely rough, I should

" But with such a face as hers she won't have to work long," added the master of Fairlawn.

Julia tossed her head. " At any rate she has had to work xnoe Melfords 33

in single blessedness till she is five-and-twenty, so she cannot be so marvellously attractive after all"

** Let not the pot address the kettle," retorted her brother. '* If my arithmetic is not at fault, you yoiurself are six-and-twenty."

" Oh ! / don't set up for being a beauty."

** It is a good thing you do not, for you would get no following if you did."

"Gently, children, gently," remonstrated Mr. Wdford. Then he turned to his wife. '' I think you should call on the Morgans when you have the leisure, my dear."

" I mean to do so. I said only the other day to Mrs. Bailey, ' Mrs. Bailey, I think that in a small village such as this it is everybody's duty to call upon everybody else. In a large town one may pick and choose one's friends ; but in a small village one must be neighbourly.' And Mrs. Bailey quite agreed with me."

As a matter of £Eict, the vicar's vrife had originated the sentiment, and Mrs. Welford had agreed with her. But this was a mere question of detail

** And after you have called you should invite them to something," continued the hospitable manuHacturer; ''a good diimer is a great treat to people like that. They don't get one every day."

" I shouldn't waste a dinner on them," said Julia ; " I should give an evening party to all the people we don't care about, and throw them in."

'*But a dinner would do them good," persisted Mr. Welford.

" Yes, a dinner is the correct thing," agreed Percy, who foresaw that if he took Miss Harland in to dinner he should have (ai more conversation with her than he should at an evening party.

"You couldn't ask anybody decent to meet them," argued Julia ; " and it would be a dreadful bore to have them all to u H Sonble TOrea&

ourselves. People like that are smuggled in with x crcmd at an evening paity ; but one always feels responsible somehow for the people one invites to dinner."

"You could ask the vicaiage people to meet them," st^ested Percy.

His sister shook her head vehemently. " I wouldn't do such a thing foe worlds. Mrs. Bailey is a perfect lady — she is first cousin to a baronet, and her lather was a gentleman at large — so I would not take a liberty with her on any account She would very much resent being aiked to meet such people as the Morgans."

" I don't see why," said Mr. Welford, looking puzzled

" Oh 1 1 call the Morgans awfully common : they Uve in a poky little house, and only keep one servant, and are altogether outsiders. As for the girl, she is thoroughly bad style in my opinion ; and I feel sure she hasn't a proper evening dress in her possession. I expect she would come in a Sunday dress, with a white camellia in her hair and a bit of maiden-hair fern, and think she was all right."

"She would be 'a lovely apparition' in anything," said Percy.

" I don't agree widi you."

Mr. Welford again stepped into the breach. " Anyway, your mother shall call on them at once, as it is well to be on a friendly footing with all one's neighbours ; and we can settle about inviting them afterwards."

"Still, we must ask them soon," objected Percy, "or else Miss Harland's holidays will be over. Governesses don't generally get more than a month at Christmas."

The result of this conversation was that the very next day Mrs. Welford and her daughter went to pay their call on the organist's wife.

Julia was right when she called the Moi^ans' house " poky." The architect had been clever in that — though the bouse was situated in one of the prettiest villages io

Xlbc XlClelfor63 25

England — there was not a view to be obtained from any of the windows; though the prospect from the garden was most beautiful and extensive, and included peeps of half a dozen counties. Nevertheless the little dwelling was warm and comfortable ; and, thanks to the substantial help which they received from their granddaughter, there was no sign of poverty in the Morgans' home. If they had not had her to help them, poor old Mr. Morgan and his wife would have fjared but badly; but she was a good girl, and saw that, as far as it lay in her power to prevent it, her grandparents did not want for anything.

Mrs. Morgan was a neat little old lady, vrith a face like a hard apple. Life had not been easy to her, but she had proved herself equal to all its demands, though the struggle had left her somewhat untender.

As for her granddaughter — ^but it is difficult to describe Ethel Harland. It is simple enough to say that she was beautiful and clever; so are scores of women; but it is impossible to adequately depict the precise combination of qualities which made Ethel such an attractive woman.

Her features and height and colouring were exactly the same as Elfrida's ; but there the resemblance ended, as flu: as an ordinary observer could see. Instead of having Elfrida's air cf finish and fashion, she was plainly, even poorly, dressed ; in place of Elfrida's elaborately arranged coifiiire, Ethel's hair was done up anyhow, in an oldfitfhioned style, and was, moreover, decidedly untidy Unlike Elfrida's stately and studied manner, Ethel was perfectly natural and spontaneous; and, in short, Ethel seemed a light-hearted child of nature, while Elfiida appeared to be a spoilt darling of fortune.

Mrs. Morgan and her granddaughter were sitting in their little parlour, sewing^ when their visitors were announced.

** 1 hope you will excuse me for not having called upon you earlier," b^;an Mrs. Welford, bustling and rustling into

36 a Stonble tTbreab

the room till she seemed to fill it ; " but, as I said to Mn. Bailey only the other day, ' One is so busy just at Christinas time that one really has no time to attend to one's social duties, and so tb^ get terribly neglected.' And Mrs. Bailey quite agreed with me."

Mis. Welford always offered an apology whenever she could find a reasonable excuse for one ; not that she was ever really penitent about anything she had done or left undone — she was far too easy-goiog for that — but she bad an idea that it was good manners to do sa Whence she had got this idea into her head, it is impossible to say ; but, as every one knows, incorrect ideas are the ideas that stick.

*' Pray do not apologize, Mis. Welford," said Mrs. Morgan sharply ; " better late than never, you know ; and it is kind of you to come at all."

"And this I suppose is Miss Harlandi" remarked the visitor, extending a plump, well^loved hand to Ethel ; "Julia, my love, let me introduce you to this dear young lady. I am sure in so small a place as this all the young people should make friends with each other ; don't you think so, Mrs. Motgan ? As I was sayii^ to my husband only yesterday, 'James,' said I, 'we old folks can do without new friends, but the young ones need congenial companionship.' You see, the young people have not the resources in themselves that we have."

" I do not agree with yoa there," replied Mrs. Morgan ; "it seems to me that they have br more resources than we have, land far more opportunities of enkrging those resources."

Mrs. Morgan nearly always contradicted a statement She had been very poor until her granddaughter was of an age to help her, and in her case poverty had run to contradictiousness. It sometimes does ; just as wealth runs to selfishness now and then.

"I hope Mr. Morgan is well," said Mrs. Welford; "he inust find this cold weather very trying when he has to go oat through the snow to all the services. As we drove here today I remarked to my daughter, ' Julia, there is nothing so trying and so hkely to give one cold as a deep snow — except a thick Tog ; it is so difficult to keep one's feet dry in snowy weather.' "

" Do you think so ? Now my husband is or quite a different opinion — he says this cold weather is ten times more healthy than the warm muggy days which preceded it, and 80 he feels much stronger and more fit for work than he did then."

"I can quite understand that," said Mrs. Welford, in a conciliatory manner; "and Sunnydale is a particularly bracing place. The vicar and his wife lived at Sugbury before they came here, and they find this such a delightful change after that relaxing climate. They had only been here a few months when Mrs. Bailey said to me, 'Mrs. Welfoid, you will hardly believe it, but my husband and I feel ten years younger than we did at Sugbuiy.' And I was so glad to hear it, for the Baileys are such channing people. He is an excellent preacher, you know, though rather too high for my taste ; and she has most aristocntic connections."

" I don't know what you mean by being ' too high,' Mrs. Welford: I must confess that I like an omate ritual myself."

Mrs. Morgan had not the least intention of being disagreeable when she disagreed with people ; it was her way of enjoying herself.

"Of course, dear Mrs. Moi^n," her visitor hastened to assure her ; " so do I — in fact, I believe all women do ; but one has to consider one's husband. Our late vicar was extremely ritualistic, and I must confess that I enjoyed his services extremely. But I had a terrible time with Mr, a8 H jB)OttI)U Ubrea&

WeUbrd. We dine early on Sundays— on account of the servants, you know — and he used to be so put out by the way in which the morning service was conducted that he never could digest his dinner. In fact, be was positively ill all Sunday evening and Monday morning, as regular as clockwork, till I was afraid his digestion would be permanently impaired by Mr. Rigby's rituaUsm."

"Ah I it is a mistake to take things to heart like that — a great mistake I How did you deal with the matter 7 "

"It got so bad at last," continued Mrs. Welford, "that — after we'd had a processional hymn — he could not digest a mutton chop and a plain rice pudding. So I said, 'James, you will break down if you go on like this ; let us take a pew at the Congregational ChapeL' "

Mrs. Morgan shook hei head. " You were wrong there, Mrs. Welford; you had better have joined the Wesleyans. Their services are almost identical with those of the Church of England, and so are their doctrines, I believe."

Mrs. Welford hastened to appease her hostess by saying that the Wesleyan Chapel was too far off.

"Did the plan answer?" inquired Mrs. Morgan, with sincere interest.

Mrs. Welford shook her head. " Just at first it answered splendidly, and James's digestion got back to its ordinary state ; but one Sunday they bad a collection for the choirexpenses — ^with an anthem — and James declared that an anthem was flat Popery, and that he would never go near the place again. I remember we unfortunately had veal for dinner that Sunday, and I thought that at tea-time James would have died."

While their female rehttions were discussmg theological difficulties, Julia and Ethel catechized each other, as girls will ; that is to say, Julia asked questions in order to find out irtiat Ethel was like, and Ethel found out what Julia was like widtout asking any questions at all.

tcbe Melf orbs ^

" Do yoa think Sutmydale ia a pretty vill^e ? " inquired Julia, with ber most patromziiig air.

"Quite lovely. ETerything ia perfect of its kind, and everything is in its right position. The river runs just where it oi^ht to ran, and the church is planted just where the church ought to be, and even the post-office knows its [dace and sticks to it."

Julia's manner chilled visibly ; she did not tike to be spoken ui by a governess in this easy and familiar way. Unlike the post-office, Miss Hailand evidently did not know her pbce.

"This is your first visit here, I believe," said Julia stiffly.

"Yes; I only come home for my holidays, and tny grand-parents moved here during the autumn, while I was hard at work, in order to be comfortably settled when I was ready to come to them. I do so love the country, and yet I have so little of it ; but now I spend every spare moment out of doors, so as to make the very most of this delight^ place. It must be nice for you, living here aU the year round I "

" I get very tired of it One caimot feed one's mind entirely upon fresh air and an extensive view ; and the society here b wretched. I daresay you will not mind it, as probably you haven't been used tt> anything difierent, but it bores me to death."

Ethel did not take umbrage at this remark, as a smallernaturedgirl might have done. She understood perfectly that Julia meant to be unkind to her, but she also understood that people as a rule do not mean to be unkind unless they are also unhappy ; so she pitied the handsome, dissatisfied girl sitting beside her, and wondered what crook had come into this woman's lot

"But, somehow, one seems independent of society in the country," she said; " in a town, I grant you, one's fellow-

30 a Zionble Ubreab

creatures are a necessity, as there is nothing else ; but there is so much in the country to interest and amuse one, that other people don't really matter."

" Still 70U . must speak to the people about you," snapped Miss Welford ; " and here they are the dullest set imaginable, to whom it is not worth while to speak at all. Now in London you can pick and choose, and go in for congenial society; but here you must take what there is and make the best of it — and bad's the best, I can assure you."

" But I think that in London one is too apt to pick and choose — too eclectic, I suppose I ought to say. Because there you can get the cream of everything, you are inclined to take nothing but cream; and cream is not altogether sattslactory as one's sole diet. Something rather more substantial is needed, don't you think f "

" I don't know, I'm sure."

Ethel was so much interested in her subject that she did not notice Julia's snubbing, but went on: "Now in the country it is different. There you can only know a few people, and you know them thoroughly, and are able to study their characters all through. And this is much more interesting and amusing, just as it is better to know a few books well than to skip a whole circulating library."

" Is your situation in London ? "

" I live there for the greater part of the year."

" And do you like it ? "

Ethel Harland sighed. "Uo; I simply hate the sight of the place,"

" How queer of you I I love London."

" Do you f I don't expect you would, though, if you had as much of it as I have."

" But, of course, we see it under such different auspices," said Julia, in her superior way. " I daresay if I had to work for my living I should not enjoy it any more than you do. Bnt when we go to London we do it thoroughly well. We stop at the Grand Hotel, and hire a private brougham, and take places in the dress-circle at all the

Ethel's eyes twinUed. She bad a keen sense of humour, and Miss Wclford's ideas as to how to live in London tickled her. She was only five-and-twenty ; but she had had to fight the batde of life for herself ever since she grew up, and so her powers and perceptions were well develt^d. She sometimes grew a little tired of fighting for herself, poor child ! and envied the girts who had Others to fight for them and mothers to comfort them. But she was brave on the whole, and did not waste her time nor dim her pretty eyes by crying for moons which could never be hers.

"The worst of living in a place like this," continued Julia, "is that there is nobody to appreciate you. I daresay other girls do not feel this as I do; but mine is a very difficult nature to understand, and commonplace people do not in the least comprehetid me."

" Oh I I think we all feel like that when we are very young, and im^ne that no one else has ever shared oui thoughts and feelings. But don't you think that the comfort of growing older is that we gradually learn that we are not at all peculiar, but that everybody feeb exactly as we do, and that we are really quite easy to understand ? I am always so thankful to know that I am primitive and normal, and not in any way remarkable."