CHAPTER VIII. SUMMER WITH AN EAST WIND.
The Rector had given directions that Templemore was to be re-painted and re-papered and to a certain extent re-furnished for his return. He was expected home on the first of June, that day of all days, when spring has not quite died away and summer has touched everything with her golden wings. Maureen and Colonel Herbert met the travellers when they entered the old house, and Maureen flung her arms round Uncle Pat's neck and kissed him over and over again. She kissed Dominic, too, but she was mostly taken up with Uncle Pat.
"Why, you look quite well; I do declare, you look young," said Maureen.
"And you, my dearest baby," replied the Rector, "I never saw you look better before."
"Oh, that's all owing to 'dear Colonel,'" said Maureen. "He is a darling. He doesn't much like my leaving him, but you come first, dearest, most dear."
"Yes, I come first, little girl," said the Rector.
He glanced at the Colonel as he spoke, and saw a shadow on his brow and a curious blue look round his lips, and it suddenly flashed upon the Rector that perhaps he was selfish in keeping Maureen; but he must keep her now, he felt he must. Was she not his twin-brother's only child, and was there not money enough now for everything? Money certainly was a power.
The Rector went up to the Colonel and began to thank him, but the Colonel interrupted him.
"None of that, dear old man. I'm the sort of person who cannot bear thanks from anyone; not even from her, blessed angel. By the way, I have bought her a horse—'Fly-away' by name. He's a thoroughbred Arab, and I have sent his own groom with him. It would give me sincere pleasure, Rector—unspeakable pleasure—if you would let me pay all the expense of Fly-away and groom."
The Rector paused before he replied; then he said slowly, "It shall be as you wish."
"I'll ride over to-morrow," said the Colonel, "and take Maureen for a scamper across country. Oh, by the way, she has got a nice little pipe of her own—not developed, of course—but it will be something very good, by-and-by. She sings at present as the birds sing, and you will find my present to her in the shape of a Blüthner grand in your drawing-room. Now I will say good-bye.—Maureen, acushla, one kiss. I'm coming back to-morrow."
"Yes, 'dear Colonel,' yes," said Maureen, and she pressed the withered cheek several times with her rosy lips, and the Colonel went away, a sadly broken-down man, although he had made such tremendous efforts to show nothing.
"Why, Maureen, my blessing," said the Rector, "you have won Colonel Herbert's heart. He's a right good, gentlemanly fellow, one of the best in the county. Everyone has hitherto supposed that his heart was made of iron, but you—you have changed all that."
"Ho, it isn't me; it is his dear self," said the child, "and he hasn't a heart of iron, my Colonel, but a soft heart, very gentle. I think I love him next best to you and Dominic out of all the world. He has been so good to me while you were away. But now let's be happy. Oh, hurrah! This is a good world. Dear old Templemore! Come for a walk, Uncle Pat.—Come along, too, Dom.—We must see the fruit garden and the place where the periwinkles will soon be in full blossom. They are in bud now, but soon they'll be in blossom. Oh, what wonderful, amazing things have happened during this past year! God has given you back your life, my darling."
"Yes, Maureen," said the Rector, "and to see you, my little blessing, looking as you do, is the crowning touch to my bliss."
"I wish Kitty and Denis were here," said Maureen.
"They are coming in a week's time," replied the Rector; "and in about ten days from now their step-sisters will arrive."
"Oh," said Maureen, "the girls that step-auntie was always talking about?"
"Yes, the same. They are pretty much about your age, Maureen—a little older if anything. I have not seen them yet."
"We must be very good to them," said Maureen.
"Yes, acushla, yes. What a big family we'll be, with all you young ones trotting about, and the Colonel and I—a pair of old fogies, bedad!—watching you at your games."
"Indeed, no; nothing of that sort," said Maureen. "You'll join in our games, for you are quite young again, and my Colonel isn't old. I have taught him to play hide-and-seek, and he loves it. There is nothing like play to keep people young. I shouldn't be a bit surprised if Pegeen joined in some fine morning. She is the only really old person in the house. But now, Uncle, please tell me all about step-auntie's girls."
"I can't tell you anything, darling, for I have not seen them. Even when, long ago—at least, it is five years ago now—when I asked their poor mother to marry me, the girls were at school, and she never would allow them to come home for the holidays. I disapproved, but now all that is changed, for I am their guardian as well as their step-father."
"I wonder if they'll be nice," said Maureen. "We ought to give them a very pretty bedroom, Uncle Pat."
"I thought their poor mother's room—it is the best in the house and the best furnished; and you can make it look very charming for them by the time they arrive, Maureen."
"You may be certain sure of that," said Maureen, and she clasped her little hands tightly and looked with her loving eyes full at Uncle Pat.
The Colonel arrived the next day and took Maureen for a long ride on Fly-away, and then Maureen insisted on his staying to dinner, which she had herself prepared with the help of Pegeen, who of course worshipped the "swate asthore."
Afterwards Maureen sang several old Irish songs, and a boy and two men listened and wondered. How gay and true and clear was that voice. The Colonel could not help sighing as he got up to go back to his solitary home.
"If only I had a child of my own," he thought, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
The weather was as fine this year as it had been last, and Denis and Kitty arrived all in due course, perfectly wild with rapture and enthusiasm. Then one day, quite unexpectedly, an outside car of the very shabbiest make was seen trundling down the avenue. From the car leaped a girl with flaxen hair and another girl with red hair, and the girl with flaxen hair flew at Uncle Pat and flung her arms round his neck and said, "Why, dad, dad, dear old dad! It is good to see you. Let's have a good hug. I'm Daisy, you know—called Dysy when I'm naughty—and this here is Henny-penny."
The girl with red hair was not as demonstrative as the flaxen-haired Daisy; her eyes had a cruel look in them, and her mouth was loose and ugly.
"I'm Henrietta Mostyn," she said. "I suppose you are my step-father."
"Yes, my dear; welcome to Templemore."
"What a rum old place," said Henrietta.
"Oh, we all love it very much, dear," said the Rector; "and I hope you'll both be good and happy while you are with us."
"Who is that boy?" asked Henrietta. "Quite a nice boy. What's his name?"
"I'm Dominic," replied Dominic O'Brien.
"Oh, are you? Well, you can take me round presently, if you like. There are lots of others, aren't there? Of course, I know that poor mumsie is dead and gone——"
"Oh, for goodness' sake, keep cheerful, Henny!" "That's what I'm trying to do. Will someone pay the driver; I have no money."
"I'll see to it," said Dominic, going into the hall.
"Why, there is another boy!" cried Daisy. "What's your name, scamp?"
"It's not Scamp," said Denis O'Brien, who, although he was much younger than Dominic, had a good deal of Irish pride packed away in his eleven years of life. "My name is Denis O'Brien."
"Well, well, don't be huffy, kid. Whoever is that little sprite over there? A mite of a thing—a sort of changeling!"
Daisy's mocking finger pointed to pretty Kitty, who burst into floods of terrified tears and rushed to Maureen for comfort.
"Oh, come, Daisy, you must not speak of my youngest child in that tone," said the Rector. "She is my sweet little Kitty, and the dearest little pet."
"And whoever is that rag of a girl?"
"This is Maureen."
"Well," said Daisy, "wasn't mother right? Don't you remember, Henny-penny, how she used to write us pages about the detestable Maureen, and here she is in the flesh, as stuck-up as you please, and in all those fine feathers, too. I can give a shrewd guess as to whose money paid for those!"
There was a solemn silence in the great hall, then the Rector laid one strong, firm hand on Daisy's shoulder and the other on Henrietta's.
"My dears," he said, "you are strangers to us, but we wish, if possible, to be good to you. It is our intention, if possible, to be good, but you must not speak against any of my family, and in especial you must not speak against Maureen. She is the joy of my life and my greatest earthly comfort. Remember, girls, I am now in the position of your step-father and your guardian and can do with you just what I please.—Maureen, darling, take the girls up to their bedroom, and see that they have every comfort.—We shall have tea in the hall in about half an hour, and then the Colonel will come to take Maureen for her customary ride."
There was something very stern and solemn in the Rector's words, and even Daisy was subdued for the moment.
Maureen, who had not shed a tear or shown a scrap of apparent emotion, now came forward and gravely without any smile said in her distinct, sweet voice: "Shall I take you to your room?—Kitty, dear, go and have a ride on daddy's shoulder."
"He's my daddy as well as the sprite's!" cried out the irrepressible Daisy. "That's one comfort. Well, I suppose we may as well go with you, interloper." The last word she dropped as she did not wish her step-father to hear her.
Maureen had taken great pains with the late Mrs. O'Brien's room. She had taken away the large double bed and had substituted two little oak bedsteads, and the room was really quite charming, with its good furniture, its flowers, and wide-open windows, which let in the delicious air, that blew straight from the Atlantic, not two miles away.
"How shivering—how bitter!" cried Daisy. "For goodness' sake, shut that window; I'll catch my death—I know I shall. What a great empty room! Nothing in it to speak of. The only decent person I have seen since I entered the house is the boy they call Dominic. I am going to have a try and flirt with him. It will get my hand in for proper practice by-and-by."
"You mustn't be unkind to me if you expect Dominic to like you," said Maureen.
"Oh, so that's the way the wind blows! Ho-ho! Well, little figure of fun, and how do you enjoy your stolen goods?"
"I don't understand you; I haven't a notion what you mean," said poor little Maureen.
"Don't begin by teasing her," suddenly exclaimed Henrietta; "we'll have plenty of opportunity later on. You know we made our plans, but you are such an air-bubble. 'Dysy—Dysy—give me your answer, do!'"
"I'll scratch your cheeks if you talk to me like that," exclaimed Daisy. "I'm not going to be afraid of anybody, and I say it plainly and frankly. Dad's an old frump, but it's wisest to make up to him. What did mother see in him to marry him? As to this creature, she is unspeakable, but of course stolen goods! Well, miss, what are you staring at us for?"
"I thought perhaps I might help you," said Maureen, in her sweet voice, which, in spite of every effort, had a sort of tremble in it. "I don't know that I can; but I thought I could. I'd like to, awfully!"
"Oh, humbug, shut up!" said Henny-penny.
"You'd like me to leave you perhaps," said Maureen. "There's hot water there, and when the bell rings for tea, or rather when the gong sounds, I can come up and fetch you. We thought you'd like this room. Pegeen and I took great pains preparing it for you. It is quite the best bedroom in the house, and the largest. Uncle Pat ought to have it by right, but he wouldn't take it from you, for step-auntie always slept in it, and we thought you'd be sure to like her room, seeing that you are her children. The bed has been moved and two small beds put in. I think myself it is a beautiful room," continued Maureen.
She turned as she spoke in her graceful way and walked towards the door, but before she could reach it both girls had sprung upon her.
"How old are you?"
"I shall be fifteen in a few months. Please don't clutch my shoulders so tightly."
"Well, you're very little younger than we are. We're twins and we're fifteen. We won't be sixteen till Christmas, so there isn't a year between us. We can have a fair fight."
"Now, look here, little monster," said Henny-penny. "Don't you think you are going to have your way in this house, which belonged to our mother."
"Please," said Maureen, "it belongs to Uncle Pat. It is the Rectory, you know."
"Take that," said Daisy, and she gave her a resounding smack upon her cheek.
"Now, look here, Miss Interloper," said Henny.—"Daisy, for goodness' sake, don't strike the creature—we mean to be top dogs at Templemore. We mean to get round dad and Dominic and a man you call Colonel, and you'll have no chance whatsoever; and if you think for an instant that we are going to sleep in this room where mumsie slept until the day she was killed, you're finely mistaken, that's all. You want to kill us; that's about the truth."
"Oh, you don't understand," said poor Maureen.
"If I'm forced to sleep in this room, I shall shriek and yell all night long," said Daisy.
"No, you won't, Daisy, for of course you won't sleep in the room. Why, we should have mumsie walking over us all night long—a pretty trick for you to play on us, Miss Humbug; but you'll soon know your own place. We haven't come to this home of desolation for nothing."
"Where's father?" cried Daisy. "Oh, there he is walking with Dominic. Dad, I say, dad, come upstairs at once! Dominic may come, too, if he likes. The little scamp has been playing tricks on us. Come quick, father, come quick, and save your poor children."
The amazed Rector, accompanied by Dominic, entered the room. The first thing Dominic saw was a great red mark on Maureen's cheek. He went up to her and slipped his hand through her arm.
"Who has been hurting you, acushla?" he said, speaking in that loving Irish voice, which few girls can withstand.
"I tell you what," said Henny.—"Daisy, for Heaven's sake, keep quiet.—That creature put us into this room because she wanted to frighten us out of the world. Why, this was mumsie's room. Please, father, order another room to be got ready for us."
"Certainly, my dears. I shall be only too pleased to take possession of this room myself, and you and your sister can sleep in my room. It is a storey higher up, but the beds can be moved.—Maureen, can you give orders, dear? Why, whatever has happened to your cheek, darling?"
"I suppose I'm a bit flushed," said Maureen.
"Nothing of the sort. Out with the truth," said Daisy. "I smacked her for her cruelty."
"You did that!" said the Rector of Templemore.—"Maureen, my darling, go to your room and lie down. Dominic, take her there, and take every possible care of her.—Now, girls," continued the Rector, when Dominic and Maureen had gone away together, "if you attempt to persecute my little niece or make her life at all miserable I put down my foot, and I think, all things considered, that you will find it a very firm one. Our wish was to make you happy at Templemore, but if you choose to be miserable over nothing at all, and to go on in the exceedingly unpleasant way you have done since you entered the house, why, there is an old lady I know who will take charge of you. I won't tell you her name. I won't tell you anything about her except that she is a relation of my own; and I rather fancy, Henrietta and Daisy, that if you go and live with her, you will sleep where she chooses, you will eat what she puts before you, you will obey her to the letter, and you will not have an easy time. You need not unpack, now, girls. You have shown since you came to this house want of heart and want of feeling, and I may as well tell you that I am bitterly ashamed of you."
Whereupon the Rector left the beautiful bedroom, and the girls stood and stared at each other.
"We're in prison," said Daisy, and she began to sob.
"Nothing of the sort, if we play our cards properly," returned her sister. "Now I'm going to tidy up a bit, and you'd best do the same, and, for goodness, gracious' sake, don't say a word against that little brat in the company of her elders. We can tease her fine in private, and she has got some grit in her, I must say, for she didn't tell when you gave her that awful blow, Daisy. You did yourself no good by that. I wouldn't sleep in this room; I'm with you there. Poor mumsie's room; but I think we'll have to change our tactics a little, otherwise we'll be packed off to that truly awful woman father has described to us. He's not at all a nice man, but Dominic is worth cultivating, and then there's the Colonel. I own I should like to get into his good graces, so do brush out my hair and let me look pretty, and I'll do the same for you. Afterwards we can find our way to the hall hand in hand, two forlorn, sad little orphans—enough to touch the heart of anyone."
Daisy submitted, as she always did, to the stronger nature, and the girls entered the hall a quarter of an hour later in their somewhat tawdry travelling dresses, much the worse for wear—one with her head of fiery red hair and her eyes of fiery blue, the other a sort of shadow of her sister with no colour in the hair, nor in the small pinched face.
The Colonel was seated as usual in the hall, and the Rector was speaking to him on all kinds of subjects, learned subjects and subjects of the day.
Dominic, Denis, and Kitty had placed themselves as far as possible from the Mostyns. Presently there was a little rush heard on the richly-carpeted stairs, and a girl, a beautiful girl, in a Lincoln-green habit, with her little peaked cap of velvet to match with its heron's feather, dashed into the middle of the group. As she advanced, she sang, and the song she sang was "When Malachi Wore His Collar of Gold," and she flew to the Colonel and put her soft arms round his neck and gave him one very light kiss on his forehead.
"Why, Maureen, my blessing!" exclaimed Colonel Herbert.
"You'd best pour out tea now, Maureen," said her uncle, "or you and the Colonel will be late for your ride."