CHAPTER XIV
THE BREAKING-IN OF MELICENT
"I could not hide
My quickening inner life from those at watch.
They saw a light at a window now and then,
They had not set there: who had set it there?
My father's sister started when she caught
My soul agaze in my eyes. She could not say
I had no business with a sort of soul,
But plainly she objected."
—ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.
The following day Sir Joseph and Lady Burmester, with their guests, duly attended the ugly little church in Fransdale.
There had been a church there since the dawnings of English history. But, as the Reformed Church lost her grip upon the strong, narrow minds of the Dalesmen, it had been allowed to fall in ruins. Then had come the disastrous "churchwarden" restoration, which had abolished all landmarks. A stumpy little box-like structure now stood among the ancient graves, in a velvet-smooth meadow overshadowed by the frowning hills which closed round the head of the Dale.
Mrs. Cooper had been duly informed by Tommy of the meeting with the gentlemen from the Grange, and of the fact that one of them seemed to be a great friend of Melicent's. There was no valid reason why this news should displease her; but it did. She was vexed that her insignificant niece should have so many friends. The passion of jealousy was smouldering deep down in her heart, among other dormant forces of which she was unaware. Like many parents, while constantly assuring herself and her children that looks were nothing, she nevertheless expected the girls to be admired and sought out. When first she saw Millie, she had experienced relief at the thought that such a thin, pale shrimp of a girl could never prove a rival to her own. That she should be thrust forth to the notice of the Burmesters, so early in her sojourn at Fransdale, was most displeasing; she told herself that it must give the poor child a totally false idea of her own importance.
However, forewarned is forearmed. She was ready after service with the sweetest smiles of the amiable aunt, to be presented to the Helstons, and thank them suitably for their care of "poor darling Melicent."
Mrs. Helston was a picturesque woman, a brunette, with hair prematurely grey, which set off the tints of her bright complexion. She wore a wide hat with strings, and her smile captivated the hearts of the five staring Miss Coopers.
Lady Burmester was not a tactful person. She did not like the Coopers, whom she thought pompous and prosy. She proceeded to ask Mrs. Cooper to come to lunch the following day, and to bring her niece with her. She did not include any of the vicar's daughters in her invitation.
Mrs. Cooper smiled, and gushed, and seemed so delighted with the invitation, that her ladyship was conscious of a slight shock when she found that she was refusing it. It was early days yet, and would be unsettling for dear Melicent, who must get a little more used to English ways before she could bring her out. She knew dear Lady Burmester would understand. She suggested instead, that the two ladies from the Grange should come to tea at the Vicarage one afternoon; suppose they were to say Wednesday?
In a bewildered way Lady Burmester submitted to this unlooked-for dictation, and, taken by surprise, obediently said Wednesday; but as they were driving home, she suddenly turned to her friend and asked: