“Yes, that is right. I see you know all about it; but would you understand what I meant, dear, if I said that God had given you an ‘Open Sesame’ into other people’s hearts and lives?”
Lettice looked up quickly, surprised and awed. “I? No! How have I—?”
“Look in the mirror opposite!” said the old lady gravely, and the girl hung her head in embarrassment.
“No, my dear, there is no need to blush. If you had a talent for music, like Norah, you would not think it necessary to be embarrassed every time it was mentioned, and beauty is a gift from God, just as much as anything else, and ought to be valued accordingly. It is a great power in the world—perhaps a greater power than anything else, and the people who possess it have much responsibility. You are a beautiful girl, Lettice; you will be a beautiful woman; everyone you meet will be attracted to you, and you will have an ‘Open Sesame’ into their hearts. Do you realise what that means? It means that you will have power over other people’s lives; that you will be able to influence them for good or evil; that you can succeed where others fail, and carry sunshine wherever you go. But it will also be in your power to cause a great deal of misery. There have been women in the world whose beauty has brought war and suffering upon whole nations, because they loved themselves most, and sacrificed everything for the gratification of vanity. You are young, Lettice, and have no mother to guide you, so perhaps you have never thought of things in this way before. But when I saw you first, I looked in your face and thought, ‘I should like to help this girl; to help her to forget herself, and think of others, so that she may do good and not evil, all the days of her life.’”
The ready tears rose to Lettice’s eyes and flowed down her cheeks. She was awed and sobered, but the impression was rather pleasurable than otherwise. “A beautiful woman”—“a power over others”—“sunshine”—“success”—the phrases rang in her ear, and the sound was musical. “Of course I’ll be good. I want to be good—then everyone will like me,” she said to herself, while she kissed and clung to Miss Carr, and whispered loving little words of thanks, which charmed the good lady’s heart.
For the next three days all was excitement and bustle. Lettice’s belongings had to be gathered together and packed, and though Miss Carr would hear of no new purchases, there were a dozen repairs and alterations which seemed absolutely necessary. Mr Bertrand took his two guests about every morning, so as to leave the girls at liberty, but when afternoon came he drove them out willy-nilly, and organised one excursion after another with the double intention of amusing his visitors and preventing melancholy regrets. Norah was in the depths of despondency; but her repinings were all for her beloved companion, and not for any disappointment of her own. Now that she had the interest of her music lessons, and the friendship of Rex and Edna, she was unwilling to leave home even for the delights of London and the College of Music. Poor Hilary, however, was in a far worse case. She had made so sure of being chosen by Miss Carr, had dreamed so many rosy dreams about the life before her, that the disappointment was very bitter. The thought of seeing Lettice driving away in the carriage with Miss Carr and Mr Rayner brought with it a keen stab of pain, and the life at home seemed to stretch before her, still and uneventful, like a stretch of dreary moorland. Her pride forbade her showing her disappointment, since no one had expressed any satisfaction in retaining her company. Stay! there was one exception. Mr Rayner had said a few simple words of regret which had been as balm to the girl’s sore heart. He, at least, was sorry that she was not to be in London, and would have preferred her company even to that of “lovely Lettice” herself.
On the whole, it was almost a relief when the hour for departure arrived. Rex and Edna drove over to see the last of their friend and cheer the stay-at-homes by their presence; but it did not seem as though they could be very successful in their errand of mercy, since Edna cried steadily behind her handkerchief, and Rex poked holes in the garden walks with gloomy persistence.
When Mr Rayner said his good-byes, he left Hilary to the last, and held her hand in his a moment or two longer than was strictly necessary. “Good-bye, and thank you for all you have done for me. I’ll remember your advice. ... We shall meet soon, I hope. You will be coming up to town, and Mr Bertrand has been good enough to ask me to come again next spring.”
Next spring! A whole year! As well say the end of the world at once. Hilary felt such a swelling sense of misery that the only way in which she could refrain from tears was by answering in sharp, matter-of-fact tones, and the consciousness that Mr Rayner was surprised and hurt by her manner was part of the general misery against which it was useless to fight.
As for Lettice, she was fairly dissolved in tears—clinging to every one in turn—and sobbing out despairing farewells. “Oh, Norie, Norie! my heart will break! I shall die; I know I shall. I can never bear it. Oh, Mouse, don’t forget me! Don’t let her forget me! Oh, do write—everyone write! I shall live on the letters from home!”