[CHAPTER XXXII.]
IN THE FLOWER GARDEN.
IT is high time we returned to Tincroft House, and our friends there, whom we left puzzling themselves how best to fulfil the new duties laid upon them. After many consultations, and weighing all sorts of pros and cons, it was finally decided—with the young lady's consent—that Helen's education should be carried on and completed at a boarding school. There were several reasons that led to this conclusion.
Among others, it was wisely propounded by John that, being an heiress, some accomplishments, in which Helen was acknowledged to be deficient, were necessary for her future establishment in life, whenever that event might occur. Internally, John also reflected that neither from Sarah nor himself were these accomplishments likely to be obtained. Moreover (and here he spoke out again), the best they could do for Helen by way of dissipating the grief of her recent bereavement, was to provide her with a change of scene and companionship, which, as far as he could see, could be done only by the plan proposed.
In this emergency, John's friend Grigson came to his help. His daughter Catherine was at a highly respectable boarding school in a certain town on the coast, not far from Trotbury. Tom spoke very highly of this school (which had the additional virtue of not being called an "establishment for young ladies"). And accordingly, after a brief interval devoted to due preparations, Helen Wilson was placed under the care of Miss G—.
How pleasantly the time passed there; how the young Australian very soon became a favourite with all the girls (some sixty or more) in the school; how, especially, she and Catherine Grigson became bosom friends; and how she made rapid progress towards those accomplishments in which she had been held to be deficient—there is no need to tell. Time passed quickly, and after an interval of some three years, we find Helen Wilson once more at Tincroft House, very dearly loved and cherished by the motherly Sarah and dear old shy awkward John, both of whom manifested their love in a variety of ways pleasant to behold.
For instance, Helen's bower was replenished with a bounteous store of treasures of art, literature, and science, "calculated," as the advertisements have it, "to please the eye and improve the taste." A new maid was hired for Helen's especial behoof; but as she turned out a failure, and the young lady declared herself quite capable of waiting on herself, this adjunct was afterwards dispensed with.
To bring themselves and their old-fashioned ways more into accord with the usages of modern society, moreover, John and Sarah altered their dinner-hour from two to six, greatly, it must be said, to the disgust of Mrs. Jane (now exalted to the rank of housekeeper), who was to be appeased only by the gift of a new dress and cap, which outshone those of her contented mistress.
But the most admirable of all the wonders wrought by affection when thus enlisted on the side of darling Helen, was when dear old John set about witching the world with his noble horsemanship. In our former account of Helen, we noted that among the accomplishments she had learned in her home in the bush was that of being an expert and fearless rider. And if one ungratified wish, on her return to Tincroft House, existed in her heart, it was for a wild gallop across the country.