Mildred's Choice
Among the new friends whom Mildred had made at Castleford none proved more congenial than the Somervilles. They were a decidedly musical family: Rhoda and Rodney both played the piano well, and the Vicar himself had considerable skill on the violoncello. The Chorltons, who were staying at a farm near the village, were also fond of music, so many pleasant little gatherings were held in the Vicarage drawing-room. Young Mr. Chorlton was possessed of a capital voice, and played his own accompaniments on the guitar in what Diccon called "true mediaeval style, worthy of Tiverton Keep"; and his sisters sang German duets with admirable taste. Violet, who cared for nothing but outdoor sports, did not often join these parties, but Lady Lorraine allowed Mildred to visit the Somervilles as frequently as she wished. Mildred thoroughly enjoyed the pleasant, unconventional home, so simple yet so refined, so full of many interests and much work—a home in which the general atmosphere was stimulating to a degree, for the Vicar loved to discuss both literature and the current topics of the day with his children, and generally had some intellectual subject on hand. He was an ardent botanist, and with Rhoda's help had made a splendid collection of dried plants, which were kept on special shelves in his study. He was at present engaged in writing a book upon the flora of the Lake district, and it was Rhoda's immense pride and privilege to be allowed to help in the compiling of lists or the copying of certain pages. To be her father's amanuensis was her greatest ambition, and she treasured every hour she spent with him at their favourite hobby, whether writing in the study or hunting for specimens on the hillsides.
Eric, the eldest son, was at Cambridge, in the same college, though not in the same year, as Mr. Chorlton. Rodney, who had just left school, was looking forward to learning motor engineering at Kirkton. He was an ingenious young fellow, and had made many clever contrivances at the Vicarage: a windmill that pumped water from the well, an electric motor that turned either his mother's sewing-machine or the churn in the dairy, and numerous handy little achievements in the way of carpentry. Mildred liked him by far the best of the three boys. Eric was rather inclined to be superior and conceited, and to wish to lay down the law to the rest of the family; and Diccon, who was still at school, was too fond of mischief to be taken seriously; but Rodney was perfectly frank and unaffected in his manners, in spite of his undoubted cleverness, and quite the most satisfactory at home.
Rhoda, so far, had been taught by her father, but she was hoping to go to school for a year or two to finish her education, and have the advantage of mixing with other girls. She questioned Mildred eagerly about St. Cyprian's, and was anxious to hear every detail of the life there: the lessons, the teachers, the games, and the Alliance which had lately been formed with so much success. As reminiscences of Kirkton were strongly discouraged at The Towers, Mildred found it a great relief to talk to Rhoda about the many interests of her school. She would descant upon the joys of St. Cyprian's, the fun of cricket matches or Eisteddfods, and of the various plans that had been made for the autumn term, till her friend was filled with a longing to go and taste the joyful experiences for herself. Rodney also asked many questions about Kirkton; and to these two confidants Mildred by degrees described all her home life at Meredith Terrace, the concerts she attended, her lessons with Professor Hoffmann, and the hopes he entertained that she should follow a musical career. She did not forget to enumerate the many advantages of Kirkton, and sang the city's praises with the utmost enthusiasm, setting it down next to London itself in the variety of opportunities of every sort which it afforded.
Mildred sometimes took her Stradivarius to the Vicarage, and her friends there were both surprised and charmed with her playing, the Vicar, who was a good judge of the violin, thinking even more highly of it than he deemed it discreet to tell her.
"The child's quite a genius," he said to his wife privately, having listened to Mildred improvising one afternoon. "The music's in her. You can see it in her sensitive little face and her big dark eyes. She's an artist to her finger tips, full of emotion and poetical imagination. I have rarely heard such playing in a concert room, and to find both the technique and the spirit of such a subtle work as the 'Frühlingslied' grasped by a girl of only sixteen is simply marvellous. Her own compositions are full of merit, though naturally still immature; they have the right ring about them, somehow—they're original, and not a mere reflection of what she has heard elsewhere. If she goes on with her training, she ought to have a great career before her, and make a name for herself. I don't suppose they appreciate her talent in the least at The Towers, and I can only hope, for the sake of the musical world at large, that she may go back to the relations who value her gift, and who have cultivated it so carefully."
As September arrived, and the time drew near for Dr. and Mrs. Graham to come back from Canada, Mildred naturally began to feel some anxiety about the subject of her return to Meredith Terrace. The Lorraines seemed to have taken it for granted that she was to remain permanently at The Towers. They scarcely ever alluded to the Grahams, and though they knew that she corresponded with them, they never asked for any news of them, and appeared to take not the slightest interest in their affairs, evidently regarding Mildred's life at Kirkton as a past episode, to be ignored as much as possible, and certainly never to be revived. How she was to break to them that she wished to return, now that her visit was over, Mildred could not imagine. She had really been happy at Castleford, and could not bear to seem ungrateful for all the kindness she had received, and she could only hope that some way might be found out of the difficulty by which she could leave without giving offence.
September was a busy month at The Towers; not only was the house full of visitors, but people were continually riding or motoring over, and luncheon and dinner parties were of almost everyday occurrence. Violet and Mildred were allowed to spend a short time in the drawing-room each evening, and the latter thus had her first little peep at society, and into that gay world which her cousin looked forward so much to entering when she should be old enough to "come out". Sir Darcy and Lady Lorraine were going away soon to join a shooting party on a beautiful estate in Scotland, and as a last effort of hospitality before their guests departed, they decided to give a large "At Home", to which all their friends in the neighbourhood were to be invited.
"Everybody will be here," said Violet in much excitement; "the Rochesters and the Markmans, and Lady Dorothy and Admiral Newson. Colonel Thorpe is bringing quite a big party, and the Musgraves have that beautiful cousin with them who made such a sensation this season. Mrs. Dent says she sings, and we must be sure to ask her."
"Are you going to have music, then?" enquired Mildred, who was dressing in her cousin's bedroom that night.
"Yes, a little, I expect," answered Violet, sitting down to let the maid arrange her long fair hair. "And there'll be dancing afterwards in the hall. Most of the people seem just to like to sit and talk to each other. I think it's a pleasure to them to meet. Do you like my pearls or my corals?"
"Your corals, I think," said Mildred. "Will anybody else sing, besides the Musgraves' cousin?"
"Mrs. Cavendish has rather a good voice, and so has Colonel Thorpe. One of the Dents plays the piano; she always brings some pieces with her when she comes. I'm afraid people don't listen very much, they're generally talking so hard all the time; but they seem to like to hear it going on, and they always say 'Thank you!' at the end."
"How funny!" said Mildred, who could not reconcile the ideas of combined music and conversation.
She had not before been present at a large party, and she was curious as to what would take place. She went into the drawing-room rather shyly with her cousin and Miss Ward. They were only to be allowed downstairs for an hour, as Lady Lorraine did not wish to bring Violet forward too much while she was still in the schoolroom, and had told Miss Ward to send both the girls to bed at half-past nine. Mildred knew very few of the people present, and she was glad to slip into a retired corner behind the piano, where she could watch the gay scene without being noticed herself. The room was full, and, as Violet had prophesied, conversation seemed so entirely to constitute the chief enjoyment that the music contributed by some of the guests was scarcely appreciated as much as it deserved.
"How do you do, my dear? I'm very pleased indeed to meet you here," said a voice in Mildred's ear; and, turning round, she found herself face to face with Mrs. Trevor, the lady whom she had first met at the Professor's, and through whose instrumentality it was that she had come at all to The Towers.
"I expect you will have nearly forgotten Kirkton by now," said Mrs. Trevor. "No? Well, at any rate I hope you have not forgotten your beautiful playing. Are we to have the pleasure of listening to you to-night?"
"Oh, no!" said Mildred, horror-stricken at the suggestion. "I never play here, only practise."
"But we are all longing to hear you," said Mrs. Trevor. "I was telling Mrs. Dent about you only the other day, and she said she would like to see your Stradivarius. Lady Lorraine! Is not your little niece going to bring down her violin? Either Miss Dent or myself would be charmed to play her accompaniment. Please ask her to let us have some of her delightful music. It would be quite a treat."
"Fetch your instrument, then, Mildred, if Mrs. Trevor wishes to hear you, and will be so kind as to accompany you," said Lady Lorraine promptly, but without much enthusiasm; adding, as Mildred blushed and hesitated: "Go at once, my dear."
Mildred had not expected in the least that she would be asked to perform on such an occasion, and her natural shyness made her more than usually diffident. The guests looked up with interest as she took her place by the piano, and, allowing Mrs. Trevor to choose a piece from among her music, began a "Fantasia" on some old Hungarian melodies. All the conversation was hushed, and those who had talked the loudest before now listened intently, attracted at once by the little violinist and her talented playing, and asking themselves who she could be. Mildred was very warmly thanked and congratulated at the conclusion of her piece; many people examined her violin and spoke kindly to her, and both Mrs. Trevor and Miss Dent questioned her about her practising, and whether she still continued to take lessons.
She had put the Stradivarius away, and had returned into the hall, where she was standing half-hidden by the curtain of the dining-room door, wondering whether she could find either Violet or Miss Ward, when she suddenly became aware of a conversation which was taking place between two ladies sitting on low chairs behind a group of palms close by her. As she did not realize at first that she herself was the subject of their remarks, and as, too, the hall was so crowded that she could not have moved away just then without pushing quite rudely amongst the guests, she was obliged to overhear what she felt afterwards had certainly not been intended for her ears.
"It was wonderful playing," said the first lady. "She's as good as any of those prodigies one hears in town, and a very pretty, graceful girl too. Where did they pick her up?"
"Hush!" said the second. "She's Sir Darcy's niece. I'd never seen her before. She's really marvellously clever."
"His niece! Why, it's most unusual to find such talent in an amateur. She's equal to any professional."
"Well, I hear that she has been a professional. I certainly know for a fact that she has appeared in public."
"But you told me that she is Sir Darcy's niece. I shouldn't have thought the Lorraines would allow that."
"It's an old story," said the second speaker, lowering her voice still more. "Sir Darcy's sister made a disgraceful match. She actually ran away with her music master. It caused a terrible scandal at the time, and Sir John never forgave her. I believe he was a very clever man, and played divinely, but of course nobody would have anything to do with her afterwards. I heard they were both dead. This is their child, and no doubt it's only natural she should have been trained in this manner, as she's been living among her father's relations. Sir Darcy has taken her now, and intends to provide for her, but I really am astonished that he should allow her to play here to-night, when everybody must know the circumstances of the case."
Growing quite desperate, Mildred felt that she simply must move away, and, at the risk of being rude, managed to slip between a group of talking people. As she did so, she caught a glimpse, at the other side of the curtain, of Sir Darcy, who had also been standing in the shelter of the dining-room door, and she knew instantly, by his face, that he, too, must have overheard the conversation. Threading her way amongst the groups of visitors, she at last reached the staircase, and rushing up to her bedroom she locked the door, and flung herself on to her bed in a passion of hot, angry tears.
Why should they talk thus of her father? she asked herself bitterly. Was his genius not equal, nay superior, to rank and wealth? Did they class her, too, as infinitely beneath them? Which was the higher aim in life, to glory in the things that had been given you through no merit or toil of your own, and to scorn all those who did not possess them, or to make the very utmost of your talents, and let them be of some use to your fellow creatures, and by working your hardest feel that you had at least tried to take your share in the world's burden?
"I shall have to tell Uncle Darcy I'm going back to Kirkton," thought Mildred. "I don't know how to do it, but it's got to come somehow. I daren't leave it any longer, or Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice may begin to think I want to stay. It's most beautiful here, and I get ever so many things I shan't have at Meredith Terrace, but it's not home. They're very kind to me, but they don't love me in the least, and I'm sure they won't miss me when I'm gone. I'm nothing to them, and though it may be very grand to live at The Towers, it's a hundred times happier in my own dear home, and among my own people who really care for me."
After all, it was not so difficult as she had imagined, for the very next day the occasion arrived. The guests who had been staying in the house had gone away by the midday train, Miss Ward and Violet were at lessons, and Sir Darcy, Lady Lorraine, and Mildred were by themselves in the morning-room. The talk fell on the "At Home" of the night before, and Lady Lorraine made some comments on the singing of Miss Beresford, the Musgraves' cousin.
"By the by, speaking of music, I should like to take the opportunity, when we are alone," said Sir Darcy, "of mentioning that in future I should much prefer that Mildred should not play her violin in public. There are several reasons which render it most undesirable that she should do so. I don't know whether Miss Ward is giving her lessons, but if so, they had better be discontinued, and she must confine herself to the piano. A little music is a nice accomplishment for any girl, but I do not consider it quite lady-like when it begins to rival professional playing; and as Mildred will not have to earn her living by her instrument, I wish her to put her violin entirely aside, and turn her attention to other things. Do you hear what I say, Mildred?"
"Yes, Uncle Darcy," answered Mildred, trembling all over, and feeling that the moment had come. "But oh, please, I can't give it up, because Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice want me to go on learning."
"Dr. Graham is no longer your guardian, and has nothing further to do with the matter," replied Sir Darcy, frowning slightly.
"But he will when I go back," faltered Mildred.
"When you go back! Why, I thought you quite understood that I had taken the entire responsibility of you. I offered you a home at The Towers, and I always keep my word."
"You've been very kind—please don't think I've not been happy," said Mildred, speaking in little gasps; "but I only came for the holidays—my visit's over now—and I think I had better be going soon."
"Do I understand from what you say that you choose to return to Dr. and Mrs. Graham in preference to staying here at The Towers?" asked Sir Darcy, as if he could scarcely believe the evidence of his own ears.
"They want me," said Mildred, bursting into tears. "It's my own home, and oh, I must go back!"
"I can't discuss the question with you now," said Sir Darcy. "I must talk it over with your aunt. I'm certainly very much surprised to hear that you should wish to leave us, but I consider you too young to settle your own affairs, and I shall arrange the matter in whatever way I consider best for your welfare. In the meantime you must attend to what I have said as regards your music, and I don't expect to hear your violin again in the house."
Poor Mildred left the room, feeling that she was in dire disgrace. She knew that she had not explained herself properly, and that both her uncle and aunt would think that she was making a very poor return for their kindness to her. She could tell from the coldness of their manner during the next few days that they considered her both unreasonable and ungrateful, and the knowledge added to her unhappiness. She put the Stradivarius safely away inside her wardrobe; she did not dare to practise now, and only hoped that Sir Darcy would not take her violin away from her altogether.
"I can't give it up, and I won't!" she said to herself. "No more than I mean to give up Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice. I'd rather have my music than anything they can offer me instead, and I shall go Back to Kirkton, if I have to run away."
She wondered what Sir Darcy intended to arrange for her future, and whether he would be able to keep her at The Towers against her will. Would Uncle Colin be willing to resign her? And would she perhaps never see either him or her aunt again? The misery of the prospect seemed almost more than she could bear to contemplate, and she went about in a state of such dejection that Violet, to whom the whole affair was incomprehensible, rallied her continually on her low spirits.
Matters were at this crisis when Mildred one morning received a letter in Mrs. Graham's handwriting—not in the thin envelope with the foreign stamp that she had been in the habit of looking out for lately, but a stout English one, bearing the familiar Kirkton postmark.
"Oh! They're back at last!" she cried with delight as she tore it open.
Dr. and Mrs. Graham had indeed returned to Meredith Terrace, and they now wrote to Mildred to tell her that the time had come when she must make her choice between their home and the Lorraines'.
"We do not wish to influence you in any way, darling," wrote her aunt. "You must act entirely for your own happiness. If you feel that you would rather remain at The Towers, it is our earnest desire that you should do so; but if, on the other hand, you still cling to us, you will find the very biggest welcome waiting for you here. Your uncle is writing to Sir Darcy by this post, so no doubt he will speak to you about the matter."
"As if I could want to give them up!" cried Mildred, kissing the signature. "I'm so glad they are at Kirkton again, for they feel so much nearer to me now. I wonder what Uncle Colin has written to Uncle Darcy, and what he'll say to me?"
Mildred had not long to wait, for after breakfast that morning Sir Darcy called her into the library, where he and Lady Lorraine had evidently been consulting over a letter which he held in his hand.
"I wish to have a little talk with you, Mildred," he said, rather stiffly. "I have here a communication from Dr. Graham, in which he states that, as representing your father's family, he considers himself to be your joint guardian. He is equally willing with myself to be responsible for you, and it appears he is anxious that you should receive a special musical training. I have talked the matter over with your aunt, and we have come to the conclusion that it will be better to allow you to decide for yourself whether you make your home with us or with the Grahams. If you wish to stay here, you will have the benefit of many social advantages which you would certainly not find at Kirkton; but, on the other hand, I cannot undertake to encourage your study of the violin. We are willing on our part to do our best for you, to give you a good general education, to introduce you into society when you are at an age to leave the schoolroom, and to make such provision for you as to ensure that you should never be in want. More than this I cannot say, and it only remains for you, therefore, to take your choice between your two guardians."
"You've been very good to me, and so has Aunt Geraldine," said Mildred, summoning up all her courage. "I can never forget your kindness, or thank you enough for it; but Uncle Colin and Aunt Alice are just like my father and mother. I've lived with them ever since I was a baby, and I can't help loving them the best. I don't want to give up my violin either; I feel as if it would be giving up my birthright. So please don't think me ungrateful, but I feel that my home's at Kirkton. It's where I've been brought up, and I'm really happier there. I know you would have been very kind indeed to me if I had stayed at The Towers, but as I may have my choice, I should like to go back to Meredith Terrace."
Mildred had felt some apprehension as to how Sir Darcy and Lady Lorraine would receive her decision, but much to her relief it seemed to be only what they had expected, and they at once began to make arrangements for her return.
"We shall not lose sight of you altogether," said Lady Lorraine kindly. "Both Violet and I shall expect to hear from you sometimes, and you must pay us a visit every now and then. I should be sorry if, after having made an effort to be friends, we were to become estranged from one another again, and I want you always to feel that if you like to come and see us you will be welcome here."
Though she did not repent her choice, Mildred certainly felt a pang at leaving all the many beauties of Castleford behind her. She had grown so used to the ever-changing aspect of the lake, the calm of the silent woods, the glory of the rugged fells and the rushing streams, that she should miss them like old friends; they had inspired the poetical side of her nature, and she owed a debt to them in increased powers of imagination which she would some day realize. Coming at this period of her life, the time spent at The Towers had been to her of untold benefit; it had enlarged her views, altered her estimation of many things, and adjusted her childish standpoint to a truer judgment of this world's affairs. Both from the Lorraines and the Somervilles she had learnt much, and it was only after she had returned to Kirkton that she felt how great a change the visit had made in her.
"We don't want to lose you, dear, but I think you're quite right," said Mrs. Somerville, as Mildred said good-bye at the Vicarage. "Rhoda will miss you dreadfully, but we shall hope to meet again, and in the meantime we wish you every possible success in your study of music. You're going to work very hard, I know, and I expect when you next play to us we shall be even more delighted than now. We shall all be anxious to hear news of you, and you must never forget your friends at Castleford."
As Mrs. Graham had said, a very big welcome awaited Mildred when she at last returned to her old home. The thought that a parting had been possible gave an added zest to their reunion, and both her uncle and aunt held her in their arms as if they could scarcely let her go again.
"You are our own little girl now," said Uncle Colin, "and we intend to keep you! We haven't very much to give you, darling, except a great deal of love, but you're sure of that, at any rate; and if you think you'll be happier here with us, you know you'll not find anyone who'd be fonder of you than we are."
"There was never any choice about it at all," cried Mildred, distributing her kisses alternately. "I meant from the first to come back. I'd rather live here a thousand times than at The Towers. They were very kind to me, but oh! it wasn't at all the same. I'm your girl, not theirs; I always have been and always will be, so please don't try sending me away again."
"You were right," said Dr. Graham that evening to his wife. "It was a risky experiment, but I'm glad we tried it. Mildred has had her taste of society, and of everything that wealth and position can offer; she knows perfectly well what she's giving up, and if she would rather live with us, and study her violin, she has made the choice of her own free will, and there's the less likelihood of her repenting afterwards. I think, however, that she really prefers our life to theirs, and will be happier with some definite work than spending all her time in amusement. As you predicted, the seed which we planted has sprung up. I hope we may live to see great things from her in the future, and that she may never regret the step she has taken."