Into the Highways and Hedges

by F. F. Montrésor

"I am meditating taking her away with me. You have been wonderfully good. I can't think what I should have done with my poor bairns if I had not had you to fall back on years ago; but, after all, Meg is quite grown-up now,—at least, so she constantly assures me; and she does not seem over happy here, though I daresay that is not your fault, and she is exceedingly anxious to come. In fact, I couldn't say her nay. I am afraid you will feel hurt, sis; but——"

"On the contrary, I have no doubt it is a capital plan," said Mrs. Russelthorpe briskly; and he leant back with an air of relief. After all, Augusta was always sensible. Meg had imagined that her aunt would be angry at the idea, but Meg was apt to take fancies.

"Of course, you will give up wandering about the country when you constitute yourself chaperon to a pretty daughter," said his sister, sitting down opposite him, to comfortably discuss the project. "Margaret is very attractive. In fact, to outsiders she is the most winning of the three. I noticed that she excited a great deal of admiration at our ball. She is so innocent she needs very careful guarding. I never let her go anywhere alone, not even into Dover."

"I had thought of showing her Italy," said Mr. Deane doubtfully; "but,—well, perhaps you are right there, sis. I couldn't be constantly at her elbow, and she is very rash. I remember now that I meant to give her a hint about Sauls, who is all very well, and an uncommonly clever man, and excellent company; but the way he stuck to my daughter was—well—" (with a laugh) "was like his impertinence."

"A girl of Margaret's age cannot be expected to have much worldly wisdom. It really is hardly desirable that she should. I did not blame the child," said Mrs. Russelthorpe, with a leniency which would considerably have astonished her niece. "But no doubt you will be cautious for her. You can't be too careful. I suppose you will live here? She is full young to be mistress of such a big establishment, is she not? And at present she is extremely forgetful, and naturally has no idea whatever of housekeeping. But then you could manage things yourself practically, and there are several nice families whom you could invite to the house. Bachelor parties would be out of the question, in the peculiar circumstances; but Margaret needs young society. There are the Ripleys of Ripley Court, and the Melluishes of St. Andrew's, for example."

"Oh no; we couldn't have them," said Mr. Deane hastily. "You know, sis, a very small dose of county magnates goes a long way with me. I don't mind a ball for once, but I couldn't live in their set; besides, Meg swears that she will be perfectly happy in a prolonged tête-à-tête."

"Yes?" said his sister. She smiled, but a little doubtfully. "It would hardly be fair on her to take her at her word," she remarked. "And I know that you are not selfish, Charles, and don't mean it seriously when you say you don't wish her to marry. Meg isn't cut out for an old maid. Oh, you'll soon see that, in common justice to her, you must entertain the county if you have the responsibility of bringing her out. As for her being happy alone with you, I do not for a moment doubt her truthfulness; she is candour itself, but she is variable, and she takes her own moods seriously. Meg will be ready for a convent one day, and a dance the next. You can never be sure of her. You are a charming companion; perhaps if you amuse her a good deal she will not be moped with you. I have found her fits of depression rather trying, but then I always consider that they arise from delicacy of constitution. You will watch her health, won't you? Her chest is delicate, you know, and——"

"My dear Augusta!" he cried, appalled. "What a fearful number of injunctions! I wonder whether I am equal to all these cares? Don't heap on any more, please!"

"You'll find out the rest for yourself," said Mrs. Russelthorpe cheerfully. "It is an excellent plan, as I said before, and you will not mind a little sacrifice of comfort. You'll stay here with Margaret, when Joseph and I go back to town, then?"

"Well—no—I am not quite prepared for that," he said, and dismay evidently filled his heart. "Especially if Meg hasn't any notion of housekeeping. I suppose it wouldn't do to take her to Florence with me, eh?—No—well, since she is so delicate, and, as you say, so pretty and attractive and guileless, perhaps I could hardly manage that; but she'll be terribly disappointed. I tell you what! I will think it all over, and write to her about it all from abroad. We need not give up the idea of her coming to me some time. No doubt we can arrange something."