“Oh no! my price is above rubies!” cried Peggy, laughing; “but, Mr Rollo, I shall be delighted to visit Eunice from time to time, and I want her to come to me in return. I think we are going to be friends; I hope so, at least, for I have taken a desperate fancy to her, and I am rarely attracted by strangers!”
“She is a dear child, a good, unselfish child; but, alas, she has never been young! She needs rousing, and I think,” said Mr Rollo, smiling, “I think you are the person to rouse her! I hope that you will see a great deal of each other in the future, in which case I shall owe a still larger debt of gratitude to your family than I do at present. I realise my good fortune every day in having your brother’s services at my command, for he is worth all the secretaries I have had before rolled into one.”
“Ah–h!” cried Peggy, glowing with delight. “Of course! I knew he would be. Whatever Arthur does, he does better than anybody else. He will be a great man yet, won’t he? Oh, do say he will! It was such a terrible disappointment for me when he had to give up the Army, and my only consolation has been the belief that he would distinguish himself in some other sphere. You do really believe that Arthur will be great before he dies, don’t you, Mr Rollo?”
The grave man smiled down very kindly into the eager, young face.
“It is not always the best men who make the greatest mark in the world, and ‘greatest,’ as you mean it, has many drawbacks, my dear. I should like to advise you not to set your heart on worldly distinctions, but I suppose if I did, you would put me down as a prosy old fellow, who did not practise what he preached, so I’ll make you happy instead, by telling you that I also expect great things of your brother. He is one of the most brilliant young men of his day, and some time soon we will send him into the House, and give him a chance there. I don’t wonder you are proud of him. I should have been proud indeed, if Providence had seen fit to grant me such a son!”
The sigh with which the sentence ended gave a clue to the bitterest disappointment of this man’s life. It was an abiding regret that he had no son to follow in his footsteps, and to carry on the good old name; but he never suspected that his quiet little daughter had divined his disappointment at her sex, and that the consciousness thereof had been one powerful factor in damping her spirits. To know that we are a disappointment to our friends has a paralysing effect on our energies, and there are many people in the world who have failed simply from want of encouragement and appreciation. A word of honest praise is as good as a tonic, and it is too rarely spoken. We feel it our duty to find fault where blame is merited, but are not nearly so careful to acknowledge work well done, or to show our gratitude for services willingly performed.
Mr and Mrs Rollo loved their daughter dearly, but were too much engrossed in their different pursuits to pay her much attention, and believed that, being of a naturally reserved disposition, she would not value outward demonstrations; wherein they erred, for it is the dumb, silent folk who most appreciate warm-hearted words and actions. What a much brighter world it would be if we were more generous in this respect; how happy we might make our friends, if we gave them the benefit of our loving thoughts, instead of locking them tightly in our own breasts!
Eunice opened like a flower beneath the sunny influence of Peggy’s presence, and drove off to the garden-party with an animation most unusual under the circumstances. Garden-parties were, as a rule, unmitigated bores, but this one would be an exception! Peggy would be there, and where Peggy moved fun and brightness followed in her footsteps; and Arthur had been despatched by Mr Rollo to take his place in escorting the ladies. Eunice was persuaded that no man in the world was nobler than her father, but, socially speaking, he had his defects! It was a little trying to go about with a man who spent his time discussing politics with other old gentlemen, forgetting all about the poor, shy little daughter, who languished in a corner, shivering with cold, or grilling with heat, as the case might be, and striving, oh, so vainly I to look as if she were enjoying herself. Nor was Mrs Rollo a great improvement on her husband, for she also was weighed down with the responsibilities of Guilds, Causes, and Charities, and invariably found a fellow-member of committee with whom to discuss knotty problems. This afternoon, as Eunice sat facing her mother in the carriage, she could see the nervous fingers pull at the ends of the gloves, and the lips move in mechanical rehearsal of her next address, but the sight gave her none of the usual forebodings, for this afternoon, at least, she need not dread desertion. Arthur and Peggy would be her companions, and never a word of politics or guilds need they speak, from the time they arrived until the time they came away! Eunice rambled about the beautiful grounds with the glee of a child escaped from school, and played the part of appreciative audience with an enthusiasm which could not fail to be inspiring to her companions.
Arthur looked into the smiling face, and listened to the low sweet laughter with the incredulous amazement of one who has suddenly received his sight after a spell of blindness. “Bat,” indeed, Peggy had rightly named him, since he had lived for months in the same house as this delightful creature, and never realised her charm. When they were resting together on a garden bench under the shade of a tree, Arthur cast surreptitious glances at Eunice, and formed a new estimate of her attractions to take the place of the old. He understood little about dress, but he instinctively felt that the white frock was remarkably simple for the only child of such distinguished parents, and the simplicity was in accord with the pale, well-cut face whose chief characteristics were modesty and sweetness. A little white-gloved hand lay on her lap, and, as Arthur looked at it, a swift remembrance arose of the afternoon a few weeks back when he had seen that hand stretched out to comfort a companion in distress. His lip twitched beneath his moustache and his smile faded.
“Ah, well,” he said to himself sadly, “we cannot all be alike; but it does one good to see her—dear, little, gentle thing! She’ll make some one very happy some day, and he will think her beautiful, for he will see his home in her eyes.”