“But I have great objections to it, my dear,” said Mrs Atheling, with some solemnity. “I should rather a hundred times take in work myself, or do anything with my own hands, than let my girls do this. It is not respectable for a young girl. A public appearance! I should be grieved and ashamed beyond anything. I should indeed, my dear.”
“I am very sorry, Mrs Atheling,” said Rachel, wistfully; “but it is not anything wrong.”
“Not wrong—but not at all respectable,” said Mrs Atheling, “and unfeminine, and very dangerous indeed, and a discreditable position for a young girl.”
Rachel blushed, and was very much disconcerted, but still did not give up the point. “I thought it so when they tried to force me,” she said in a low tone; “but now, no one need know; and people, perhaps, might have me at their houses; ladies sing in company. You would not mind me doing that, Mrs Atheling? Or I could give lessons. Perhaps you think it is all vanity; but indeed they used to think me a very good singer, long ago. Oh, Agnes, do you remember that old gentleman at the Willow? that very old gentleman who used to talk to you? I think he could help me if you would only speak to him.”
“Mr Agar? I think he could,” said Agnes; “but, Rachel, mamma says you must not think of it. Marian does not do anything, and why should you?”
“I am no one’s daughter,” said Rachel, sadly. “You are all very kind; but Louis has only a very little money; and I will not—indeed I will not—be a burden upon you.”
“Rachel, my dear,” said Mrs Atheling, “do not speak so foolishly; but I will tell you what we can do. Agnes shall write down all about it to Miss Anastasia, and ask her advice, and whether she consents to it; and if she consents, I will not object any more. I promise I shall not stand in the way at all, if Miss Anastasia decides for you.”
Rachel looked up with a little wonder. “But Miss Anastasia has nothing to do with us,” said the astonished girl. “I would rather obey you than Miss Rivers, a great deal. Why should we consult her?”
“My dear,” said Mrs Atheling, with importance, “you must not ask any questions at present. I have my reasons. Miss Anastasia takes a great interest in you, and I have a very good reason for what I say.”
This made an end of the argument; but Rachel was extremely puzzled, and could not understand it. She was not very quick-witted, this gentle little girl; she began to have a certain awe of Miss Anastasia, and to suppose that it must be her superior wisdom which made every one ask her opinion. Rachel could not conclude upon any other reason, and accordingly awaited with a little solemnity the decision of Miss Rivers. They were in a singular harmony, all these young people; not one of them but had some great question hanging in the balance, which they themselves were not sufficient to conclude upon—something that might change and colour the whole course of their lives.