“We may see you in England, some day,” he said; “you Americans are always travelling. Try to make yourself like English girls. Study hard and improve your mind. A smattering is such a trial; it rhymes with chattering. Don’t talk too much, and above all never have hysterics. I am sure they are only a habit and can be controlled if you begin early. And—ah—your manners are somewhat abrupt, and you have a way of sprawling. Your mother, I am told, was a very elegant woman. Try to grow like her. Mrs. Hayne says it is likely that some of your mother’s friends will offer you a home. Accept, by all means; it would be quite dreadful to be brought up in a boarding-house. I believe that is all. Now say good-bye.”
Cecil gave Lee a mighty hug and winked rapidly. Lord Barnstaple allowed them one minute, then took Lee firmly by the hand and marched her to the hack.
“Good-bye,” he said kindly. “You are a jolly little thing—you don’t make any fuss. Mind you never have hysterics.”
But Lee cried audibly all the way home, secure in the pawing of the horses about her on the boat, and in the noise of the hack on the cobble-stones thereafter. Cecil was gone, and there was no mother awaiting her in the boarding-house. She could not even go into the old room and cry on her mother’s bed, for strangers were there. She was very forlorn, and life was as black as pitch.
CHAPTER XIII
AFTER several weeks’ exchange of vague suggestions, Mrs. Montgomery, Mrs. Brannan, Mrs. Geary, and Mrs. Cartright met at the house of the former to discuss the future of Marguerite Tarleton’s child. Mrs. Cartright was the aunt of Helena Belmont, whose energies were bottled for the moment in school. Mrs. Montgomery and Mrs. Brannan were also preparing for the difficult rôles of mothers of beauties. Mrs. Geary was a degree less important, her daughter being bright rather than pretty. Mrs. Cartright, between the imperious Helena and the incorrigible Colonel, her brother, over whose home she had presided since his wife’s death, had long since surrendered what little character she had brought to California; but having a wide popularity, and a mighty flow of words, was never absent from the counsels of her friends. Mrs. Montgomery was “very Southern,” very impulsive, rather prone to do the wrong thing when caught in the cyclone of her emotions. Mrs. Brannan was merely the gorgeous Ila’s mother, but like the others of her intimate circle was a Southerner, and had been a close friend of Marguerite Tarleton. Mrs. Geary was the practical wife of a millionaire. Her husband, a man from Maine, who looked not unlike a dried cod-fish, had panned for gold in ’49, bought varas and ranches in the Fifties, become a banker of international importance in the Sixties, and had succeeded in making his Southern wife as close and practical as himself. Her advice was always in demand by her more impetuous friends.
“It’s just this,” said Mrs. Cartright, beginning at once, “that dear child cannot be brought up in a boarding-house, even in Mrs. Hayne’s. Lee is a great-niece or second cousin of General Robert E. Lee and third cousin of the Breckinridges, and Randolphs and Carrolls and Prestons, to say nothing of the Tarletons. As long as poor dear proud Marguerite lived we could do nothing, but now Lee belongs to us, particularly as dear brother Jack and Mr. Brannan are her mother’s executors and Lee’s guardians. Now, of course, I’d just jump at the chance of taking her, if it were not for darling imperious Helena. She will be home in a year now, and if they didn’t get on it would be really dreadful. Helena is really the most kind-hearted creature in the world—but such a tyrant! Her will has never been crossed, you see. You don’t know what I go through sometimes, although I fairly worship her. And Lee, you see, has simply managed poor dear Marguerite and done exactly as she pleased for eleven years. It would be really terrible if she didn’t give in to Helena, and I’m afraid she never would. And it would be almost cruel to bring her up in a house where she would have almost no individuality, although, of course, Helena may marry at once——”
“How much income has she?” interrupted Mrs. Geary.
“Eighty dollars a month. Isn’t it shocking? Fancy Hayward Tarleton’s daughter growing up on eighty dollars a month!”
“It’s quite enough to educate and dress her, and when she is ready to come out we can each give her a frock, and help with the trousseau when she marries.”