CHAPTER XV.
HELEN'S CELESTIAL SKETCHES.
A few mornings after Marguerite had arrived from "Gladswood" she was sitting in the library writing a note to cousin Jennie.
A fresh young voice gaily greeted her and Helen Rushton stood before her, a pretty picture in her morning costume of delicate cambric.
"Madge, darling, it seems a year since I saw your dear old face!" cried Helen enthusiastically, at the same moment embracing the former in truly genuine style.
Marguerite returned her friend's salutation, and putting her into an old-fashioned arm-chair drew her own seat near and was ready for a good chat.
"Madge, I have news for you."
"Good news or bad news?" queried Marguerite.
"Both," said Helen, "can you guess?"
"Spare my patience, Helen, I am no good at guessing."
"Then you give up?"
"I do, but you know full well that I have as much curiosity as any of Eve's daughters."
"Indeed, Madge, I will not give you credit for any such thing. I do think you have the least curiosity of any girl I ever met—you are far above it, you precious darling."
"Be careful, Helen, or I shall begin to have more conceit than is strictly in accordance with what is right," said Marguerite earnestly. "But of the news, Helen? You see, I cannot conceal the weakness after all you have said."
"Well, I shall not tease you any more. Last evening I received a letter saying that papa was called away to England on business to be absent for three months, and as mamma's health is delicate the physicians thought the trip would be highly beneficial to her. Papa and mamma both write and ask if I would like to remain here while they are absent."
"Oh, I am so glad Helen—of course you will," cried Marguerite in earnest pleading tones.
"Yes Madge, I will stay. My brothers are in Philadelphia and the dear old home would seem very lonely."
Helen was about to say more but the unceremonious arrival of Josie
Jordan brought it to an abrupt end.
"Well, of all things! You girls here! I do think I am mean to come when I wasn't sent for. Now Madge Verne, you are one of the meanest girls I ever met."
"What have I been guilty of now, Josie?"
"Oh yes, to be home more than a week without sending Fred. or
Charlie to let me know. And this precious article," pointing to
Helen, "I thought in Halifax."
"Am sorry you are so sadly disappointed, Josie."
"Come now Miss Helen, I mean no offence and though it is nearly two months since I saw you, remember I have not forgotten your promise."
"What about?" asked Helen.
"Celestial entertainment, my dear," ventured Madge.
"I thought myself to be free, for you know, my dear, that was some time ago," said Helen, laughing.
"I'm ready with questions girls. Let us call the House to order. Is the House ready for the question?" cried Josie, jumping to her feet and brandishing a lignum vitae rule which she held in her hand.
"Well girls to be serious I don't know how to begin. Last evening I had a note from Marion and she says they had a most delightful time at the Encaenia and spoke of two young gentlemen who graduated with the highest honors. I met them frequently and received much kindness from them."
"Suppose you saw in them a 'Roland and an Oliver,'" cried Josie, making a series of amusing grimaces.
"One was from Westmoreland and the other from Kings—the latter, I am told, is the banner county for intelligence and ability."
"Now Helen Rushton, I am not going to stand that," exclaimed Josie, her eyes sparkling with good natured repartee—"indeed the famous county of St. John has been the birthplace of men who ranked high in intellectual ability, proud attainments and held their own with the professionals, legislators and statesmen of other countries."
"Well done Josie, you are true to the core," cried Helen in rapt admiration at the defiant and fearless girl.
"What if York could have her say, I suppose she claims to be historic and grand too," remarked Marguerite with a sly glance towards Helen.
"Aye, and that she is, too," said the latter, the bright color on her cheek betokening the earnestness of her speech, "surely you will give to York the credit of the 104th regiment. It was while there I heard much of that glorious march which is unparalleled in history. When the brave veterans set forth amid all the hardships of piercing winter winds and boundless wastes of snow, the patriotic band, their hearts kept warm by the patriotic fire within, toiling on without a murmur, and singing snatches of song to sustain their drooping spirits, at last reached the goal; and when called into action, fought bravely and to the end, shedding greater lustre on the Province of their birth than if each soldier had been raised to a peerage."
"New Brunswick has many such true, loyal and brave sons, Helen, and if the hour should come when our country demands them, not one will shirk his duty."
Marguerite Verne was the speaker, and at that moment the enthusiastic expression of her face showed that the girl would not stand idly by if she could also administer to the sufferings of the wounded and the dying.
"Well, I do believe we are the oddest crowd of girls in existence. Just look where our conversation has landed us, and for goodness sake look at Madge! One would suppose she was starting off with an ambulance and all the other requisites necessary for a field nurse! Ha! ha! ha!"
Josie's ringing laugh infected the others, and a general laugh succeeded.
"This reminds me of an evening while in Fredericton," said Helen. "Some company happened in, and after music we formed a party for whist, and during the first half hour as the game progressed the conversation was, strange to say, of a serious nature, when in an instant a bright, happy girl sitting near me, by an unconscious remark, completely changed the current of thought and convulsed the entire party with fits of laughter."
"How I would have enjoyed it, Helen. If there be anything in this world that I admire in people it is a propensity for laughing," said Josie.
"Yes," added Marguerite, "if people laughed more heartily there would be less doctor's bills to pay, and less palatial drugstores at every corner."
"I believe so, too; but as I have many friends among the medical faculty, would not like to take a shingle off by advising too frequent hilarity," said Helen, laughing herself as contradiction to the speech.
"Oh, I forgot, Helen; you said that you visited in a professional gentleman's family. I hope your host would not be among the list to be boycotted by our new method of prescription?"
We will not give Helen's answer. Suffice it to say the girls received all the facts they wished to know, and felt more than ever impressed with Helen's ideas of celestial hospitality.
Then followed a vivid description of several of the M.P.P.'s, particularly the younger members of that august assemblage.
"The Crichton's of the House, did you say, Helen?" cried Josie, abruptly.
"Yes, several are considered quite beaux; I believe many of the young ladies have had designs upon them."
"And they are invulnerable?"
"Not exactly so, if rumor is correct; but as I never met the young ladies in question, cannot tell you much about it. Yes, I was at several parties, and had a good opportunity of seeing many people."
"Did you form as favorable opinions of the fair sex, there as those of our set?"
"You absurd girl! what a question! Well, to be candid, I saw much to approve and much to disapprove. One thing I did not like—that was the young ladies invariably flirted with the married gentlemen, and vice versa,—anything I despise in this world is a male flirt."
Helen Rushton drew herself up proudly and looked the embodiment of scorn and disgust.
"And I dare say little Helen was not behind in the list, for you see, girls, she favors it among the fair beauties."
"Josie Jordan, I would not stoop so far beneath the dignity of woman as to indulge in the most 'harmless flirtation,' and I pity the woman who does so; but man, with all his high sense of honor, and in possession of those manly graces which, when properly directed, are a guiding-star to society, falls low indeed when he becomes what is generally termed a flirt."
"Dear me," cried Josie, "and you really passed through the campaign without making an attack upon any of the celestials?"
"I am not going to tell you, Josie. I only wish you to know that I walked, danced, sang and was kindly entertained, and hope that I may only have an opportunity of returning such kindness when any of those acquaintances should happily tread on Haligonian classic soil."
"I believe the poetic and aesthetic of the celestial have taken, deep root already! Girls, just listen to the style of speech—tread on classic soil!"
At this Marguerite smiled, yet she did not altogether endorse Josie's repartee, and going to a cabinet took out a portfolio, which she passed to Helen.
"Excuse me, Josie, I had almost forgotten to have these sketches ready to send by the evening mail. I have promised two of them to Cousin Jennie, and really am at a loss to decide—which do you like best?"
Marguerite had now arranged several pretty sketches before her companions, and to decide was no easy task.
"This is cute!" cried Josie, holding up the foremost of the group.
"The banks of Nith," remarked Helen, examining the pretty Scotch landscape with the air of a connoiseur.
"Yes, I believe Jennie will like that," said Marguerite, taking the proffered sketch.
"Like it? she will adore it! for if she be like me she will admire anything that is Scotch—Scotch music—oh, girls! is there anything on this earth more enchanting than a quaint old Scotch ballad?"
"Yes; and if Madge or yours very humbly ever gets to Halifax we may expect a daily repast of oatmeal bannocks," turning towards Helen, and was about to exercise some of her latent strength upon her, when a reminder from Marguerite caused her to turn in dismay.
"Look what you have done!"
The sketches were lying upon the carpet. Instantly Josie was on her knees; and as she placed each sketch upon the cabinet, described its merits and demerits most heartily.
A pretty companion sketch—"Kilchurn Castle," rendered famous by Wordsworth—was also selected, and when the package had been sealed it passed into Josie's hands to be mailed on her way homeward.
Before the girls separated, Helen had given a glowing description of a choral service in the Cathedral. She described the building itself with the precision of an architect, not excepting the massive key which was also in keeping with the style of architecture—the form of a cross. And this grand and imposing Gothic structure, its solemn service, inspiring music pealing along the corridors, echoing and re-echoing through the vaulted arches, the solemn procession wending slowly down from the altar and entering by the eastern door, the prelates in the order of succession.
"It was a sight I shall never forget," said Helen, with a peculiar earnestness. "I stood long in the grand tesselated vestibule and took in the scene, and as I did so, I noticed a young gentleman who seemed spell-bound; he was wrapped in deep enthusiasm, and on making enquiries learned that the dreamer was an artist—a native artist— in fact I could almost see the poetic glow overspreading each feature of the expressive face."
"And thus it ended that Helen Rushton went to the Celestial and fell in love with a Celestial artist. Amen, so let it be!"
"Josie Jordan, how irreverent!"
"Forgive me, Madge! I forget that I am in the presence of High
Church people. Now dear, I will be ever so humble."
Josie's contrition was of short duration. Within a few moments she had to be reproved for interrupting Helen in the midst of a short but clearly-defined picture of the University and the pretty groves and avenues.
"I am determined to see those places later in the season."
"Then you will be repaid a thousand times, Helen," said Madge, a smile resting upon the madonna-like face and throwing a halo around her. "Last summer a number of friends were staying at the 'Barker,' and in the meantime Cousin Jennie and I found ourselves in Uncle William's care and registered at the 'Queen.' It was a lovely morning in August, and as we were engaged to attend a garden party on the self-same evening, we set off in the direction of Mr. Bebbington's garden, to get some of his choice roses. I was somewhat ahead of the party, and on turning the corner of Queen and Church streets the scene was truly enchanting. I was pleased to be alone to drink in the grandeur. I never could half describe that picture, it was as one brief glimpse of some paradise that appears only in dreamland. Not a sound marred the effect. All was calm and peaceful indeed. Stretching out in graceful curves lay the river, looking indeed like living silver; the soft, green sward and grassy bank; then the Cathedral in its sombre Gothic dress, its leafy grove, its hallowed associations. I looked further, and there stood the outlying hills crowned with lovely foliage, and above all the soft, fleecy clouds chasing each other through the blue sky. Soft and beautiful as an Italian landscape! And the neat, suburban cottages with artistically-arranged flower gardens in front. All was in keeping with the scene.
'No sound of busy life was heard.'
"As I stood in wrapt admiration, the Cathedral clock chimed out in soft, silvery tones, summoning the worshipper to the morning matin. Presently a figure emerges from the doorway of a neat residence and crosses the street. It is the Lord Bishop, who for so many years has crossed the same well-beaten path. The calm serenity of the place, the hour and the solemnity of the scene was overpowering. I dared not wait until the ethereal sweetness of the music would cease. I took one lingering gaze and murmured: This is indeed Elysium—a step nearer Heaven, and with feelings of reverential awe set forth on my errand."
"It must indeed have been grand!" cried the listeners in concert.
"I can never forget it," said Marguerite, "and if you should ever happen to see the same picture, you can imagine my emotions at the time."
"It is growing late, and I must attend to business," said Josie, taking up the package and setting off for the post office, while Helen and Marguerite stood on the balcony throwing tokens of affection, and as the coquettish form was lost in the distance, Helen, turning towards her companion, said:
"If Josie could only remain as she is—a grown-up child!"