A Girl of To-day

by Ellinor Davenport Adams

Loneliness and misery rendered her harsh and intolerant to the youngsters who longed to comfort her. She was irritated by seeing her own children seemingly happy and contented, and by witnessing the small gaucheries of her stepson’s harmless rusticity. Jim, better able than the younger ones to understand her condition, bore her sharp reproofs and covert sneers with determined self-control. They hurt him none the less; and he suspected that he was despised for the very efforts after a dutiful bearing which cost him so much: but he never had cherished any hope of pleasing or satisfying his stepmother, and was grateful that she kept her promise of not intervening between him and his brother and sister.

It was true that she had not much opportunity of doing so, for the three young people were seldom together. Frances found plenty of ways in which she could help Elizabeth; who was willing to be relieved of lighter duties, though she would not for worlds have allowed her young mistress to do anything she could make time to do herself. Then there were studies to be kept up, books to be read on the recommendation of Miss Carlyon or Florry, old friends to be visited in spare hours, and the family mending to be attended to.

Jim was an excellent craftsman, as his neighbours had soon discovered; but working alone, and with only the simplest appliances, he could not attempt the higher branches of a smith’s trade. He had constant employment, but no greater returns than any other skilled artisan could depend on; and after the first month of his new life had gone by he began to be tormented by anxiety as to ways and means. Part of his weekly income came from his small invested capital, and on the latter he soon found he must draw to meet household expenses. This meant, by and by, a reduction on the interest paid to him in consideration of his grandfather’s savings, and a consequent lessening of his resources.

When Mrs. Morland had first come to Rowdon, he had told her frankly the amount of his income, and had suggested that she should have control over it and make the housekeeping her own charge. Most women would have been touched by the offer, which was surely honourable to the lad who made it.

“My good boy,” replied Mrs. Morland, “you really must excuse me from undertaking the management of your house and the responsibility of your wealth. I have never learned how to spend pennies, and I have no idea when porridge and herrings are in season. I might order by mistake a halfpenny-worth too much milk, and then where would you be? No, believe me, you will manage far better yourself. Or stay, it might amuse Frances to play with sixpences, and she is terribly conscientious. No doubt she would calculate the required milk to a drop. I have always felt sure she had a genius for figures, since she told me she “kept the accounts” of that funny little Society she started and got tired of. Children always get tired of everything; but Frances might find housekeeping quite a pleasant entertainment for a time. Go and ask her, James. And do try to avoid grimacing. It makes me quite uncomfortable to see that frowning brow and those tightly-drawn lips. So like some melodramatic, middle-class novel. Run away, boy. Ta-ta.”

Jim’s courage, after this rebuff, was not equal to the task of approaching Frances, and his sister would have heard nothing of the interview if Mrs. Morland had not diverted herself by giving Frances a special version of it. The girl listened in silence, and with half-acknowledged regret on Jim’s behalf. Frances felt instinctively that Jim had made an honest advance, and that he had been unworthily answered.

She was sorry that time did not prove correct her mother’s prophecy that her brother would come to her next; and she debated anxiously with herself whether he would be vexed if she were to offer to try her own prentice hand at the ordering of the cottage affairs. Jim had certainly invited her to remember that she was “mistress” at Rowdon; there could be no undaughterly presumption in filling the place her mother had refused.

Frances decided that Jim had better be the one to open the question; but Jim held his tongue, and bore his own burdens. He had been accustomed to leave the provisioning of his little household to Elizabeth, and to pay the weekly bills without investigation. Now he found that he must not only investigate, but urge on Mrs. Macbean the strictest economy. Even then, as has been said, his income must be supplemented somehow.

Further, the lad worried himself about the arrested education of his young brother and sister. At first it was undivided happiness to have Austin so constantly at his side, and to catch glimpses of Frances tending the flowers or feeding the chickens. But when he found his brother obstinately determined to help in the smithy, and discovered that his sister actually made beds and dusted rooms, he began to accuse himself of grossly neglected duties.

Edward and Muriel Carlyon had sought out Mrs. Morland on their return home, and had begged her in most tactful fashion to let them keep their two pupils without payment of school-fees. Mrs. Morland’s pride had not been sufficient to render her quite blind to the value of the opportunity; but she had tried to save her self-esteem by leaving the matter for the children’s own settlement. Austin and Frances were not blind either, and they saw more clearly now than before what a good education might mean to them. They had talked the subject over together, they had invited the counsel of Florry and Max. It was significant that they did not seek their mother’s advice. Finally, they went to Woodbank in company, and put their concerns bravely and fully before their two kindly friends and teachers.