‘Well, Effie—of course she’s infatuated about you. Perhaps the camp might even divide,—Effie and the rest of the girls on your side, and the boys on that of the new person. Guess who it is.’
Michael, who had given his undivided attention to this last remark, knew in an instant. He had no need to guess. Not feeling inclined to rouse the curiosity of the other two, however, he merely shook his head, and apparently returned to the study of his map. It was at this juncture that the scourge came into requisition. He was silent, he knew he should not take much part in the rest of the conversation. Roger, who was also, to some extent, a friend of the little Johnsons, now inquired with interest who the ‘new person’ was.
‘Well, you’d never guess, if you tried for a week,’ said the innocent old gentleman, beaming triumphantly upon them through his spectacles; ‘so I may as well tell you. It is Miss Askam of Thorsgarth—Otho’s sister.’
‘Of course it was,’ thought Michael; and he was conscious that Roger in expressing his own astonishment, shot a quick glance at him, Michael. He managed to conjure up a look which, accompanied by raised eyebrows, and a murmured ‘dear me!’ formed a very fair imitation of surprise. He envied Roger’s unaffected interest and astonishment.
‘I have such a thorough contempt for all that lot,’ went on Dr. Rowntree, ‘that if I had known Miss Askam was going to be there last night, nothing would have induced me to go. I’ve had many lessons on the folly of being prejudiced and pig-headed, but I believe I am occasionally a little inclined that way—eh, what?’
He looked sharply at Roger, who merely laughed and said, ‘Go on. When are you coming to Miss Askam?’
‘Well, at once. I turned in unexpectedly, about half-past seven, last night. I wanted to see Mrs. Johnson about my Christmas-tree. You know the children always have a Christmas-tree at my house. I was shown into the sitting-room, and there I found them. Mrs. Johnson was actually sitting by the fire, reading—would you believe it?—reading a novel. And Miss Askam was at the table playing “commerce” with all of them. There wasn’t one left out. And they had candies for a pool. I was so astounded that I hardly knew what to make of it, and stood there looking quite foolish. However, I was presented to the lady, and she invited me to join the game; but of course I had come on other business.’
He paused. Roger did not vex Michael by looking at him. But he instinctively understood that Michael did not wish to take any part in this conversation. He therefore said, ‘Well?’
‘Well, Mrs. Johnson and I had a little conversation—about the Christmas-tree, of course—in another room. Naturally, she mentioned Miss Askam, and how they had become acquainted. She says Miss Askam is an angel, and that she has done more than any one else to reconcile her to her position here—of the poor lady struggling amongst rich acquaintances, without a real friend in the lot.’
It was well known by Mrs. Johnson’s intimate friends, and by these three men amongst them, that she had never felt happy or at home with the well-born and wealthy sheep of her husband’s flock—those sheep who stood in every worldly consideration so very high above their shepherd. Her poverty, her many children, and her many cares had always prevented her from visiting them on terms of anything like equality; while her own upbringing as a gentlewoman, made their patronage, however good-natured, very galling to her. And, perhaps, none of them had ever been so careworn themselves or so troubled as to be able to approach her as a friend. It was, at least, whosesoever the fault might be, a certain thing that Mrs. Johnson did not ‘get on’ with her richer neighbours, and that many of them considered her unbending, unreasonable, and disagreeable. There was probably ground for both opinions. Her brusqueness and utter unwillingness to receive any kind of favours annoyed them, while to have them step from their carriages into her shabby house, and coldly behold the bareness of the domestic territory, exasperated and humiliated her at the same time. Perhaps, as a matter of fact, their hearts were better than their manners; certainly, this was the case with Mrs. Johnson herself; but neither of them could see the good in the other side.