Blanche: A Story for Girls Page 15

still looking forward to Sir Adam's return in the spring--well, soon, it should be now. It _is_ spring already," said Blanche,rather at a loss, as she often was, how to reply to Stasy's outburst.

  "I don't believe he'll come to see us; or if he does, I don't suppose itwould do us much good. He has been away so long, and is no use to theneighbourhood; and I believe that's all that most people care about,"said Stasy cynically. "These families round about here live their ownlives and have their own circles. They'll all be going up to Londondirectly, I suppose, for the season. They don't want us, or care aboutquiet, not very rich, people like us. England isn't a bit like what Ithought it would be."

  "We can't quite judge yet," said Blanche. "And--I am sure you are toosweeping, Stasy. Mamma may have been too sanguine, and have seen thingstoo much through rose-coloured spectacles, but she cannot be altogethermistaken in her pleasant remembrances of her old friends--the `best'people--among whom she lived."

  "Would you give Lady Harriot Dunstan as a specimen?" said Stasysnappishly.

  "No; she would be a common-minded, inferior woman in _any_ class," saidBlanche. "I believe that is the truth of it all: there are refined andcharming natures to be found in every class, and there are theopposite."

  "Well, then, let us hunt up a few among the Blissmore _bourgeoisie_, andcontent ourselves with them," said Stasy.

  "No," said Blanche again. "It is one's duty to live in one's own classunless one is plainly shown it is necessary to leave it. And thatreminds me, speaking of Lady Harriot, I really think mamma should callthere, now we are settled. She did not _mean_ to be impertinent, wemust remember."

  "_I_ don't need to go, as I'm not out," said Stasy. "Besides, one of uswould be enough in any case. I would have liked to see Alderwood,though, but I _won't_ go the way those Blissmore girls go, on a `show'day--`open to the public'--faugh!" with great disgust.

  Blanche could not help laughing.

  "How consistent you are," she said.--"Well, Herty," as at that momenther little brother came flying out of their own gate to meet them, "whydidn't you come with us to the woods to gather leaves and hunt forviolets?"

  "I meant to come," said Herty regretfully, "but when I'd finished mylessons for Monday, you were gone, and I couldn't see you, though I ranas far down the road as I could. Oh, Blanchie," he went on, "I met sucha nice lady riding. She saw I was looking up and down, and she stoppedher horse and spoke to me. I asked her if she'd seen two girls like youand Stasy, and she said no, but if she did, she'd tell you I was lookingfor you. She said she knew you by sight, and she hoped we liked livingat Pinnerton."

  "Was it a young lady?" asked Blanche.

  "Yes," said the boy, "and she came out of those big gates, nearlyopposite the lane, you know. She had a nice face, not as pretty as_yours_, Blanchie, but about as pretty as--" And he glanced at hisyounger sister dubiously. "No, she wasn't like Stasy. She had a moreshiny face."

  "Thank you," said Stasy. "Perhaps she uses Pears's soap, which I_don't_."

  Herty looked puzzled.

  "That's not what I mean," he said. "It was a pretty, shiny way--out ofher eyes, too. Not _soapy_. You are silly, Stasy."

  "I know," said Blanche with interest, and not sorry to divert thequarrel, which she saw impending between the two--"I know who it was.It must have been the girl with the happy face--Lady Hebe. That waswhat Herty was trying to describe. You might say `sunshiny,' instead of`shiny,' Herty."

  "Yes, that's what I meant," he said. "Her face smiled all over."

  "And did you say we _did_ like Pinnerton?" inquired Stasy with someeagerness.

  "I said I did, except when I'd too many lessons; and I said Blanchiedid, but Stasy said it was very dull."

  Stasy looked uncertain whether to be pleased or vexed.

  "What did she say?" she asked.

  "She said it wasn't so bright here as in France, and she'd been thereall this time since Christmas, and then she nodded and trotted away,"was Herty's reply.

  "I thought she must be away," said Blanche.

  "Why--because she has not called upon us?" said Stasy, with what wasmeant for extreme irony.

  "No," said Blanche quietly. "She could not call unless her friends did,of course, and I don't think the Marths are old acquaintances ofmamma's. But I had a feeling that she was away. We should have mether, riding or walking about."

  "I don't suppose she ever walks," said Stasy.

  "Nonsense, Stasy! English girls are not like that. And don't youremember Mrs Harrowby, the vicar's wife, saying the other day that someof the girls in the neighbourhood were very good about the poor people,but that, unluckily, the most influential were seldom here. It was whenshe was telling us about the classes she wants to get up for some of theolder girls."

  "No," said Stasy, "I didn't pay attention. I suppose I thought she wasspeaking of the Miss Wandles and the Miss Beltons, and all the otherMiss Somebodies or Nobodies. I don't care about poor people: it's notmy line--excepting making a _quete_. I used to like doing that when Iwas a little girl."

  Blanche said nothing. She had considerable experience of Stasy'scontrariness.

  But a certain pleasurable though vague sense of anticipation had madeits way into her mind since hearing of Herty's meeting with Lady Hebe.

  "I do feel so _sure_ she is good and unselfish and thoughtful forothers," she said to herself. "She may not have much in her power, butI feel as if she would like to be kind to us. I don't care so much formyself, of course, though it _would_ be nice to know her; but it is forStasy. I am so afraid of the friends she may make if she has not niceones."

  And Blanche's face looked anxious and perturbed as they re-entered theirown little domain, laden with their pretty spoils.

  Two things happened in the course of the next few days, which somewhatbroke the monotony of the Derwents' daily life. The first was a driveto Alderwood, to return Lady Harriot's call. Blanche impressed upon hermother that whether the visit was expected of them or not, it was due totheir own dignity to make it, notwithstanding the unfavourableimpression that Mrs Lilford's tenant had left with them.

  "If we don't call, she will think us fair game for patronising andcondescending to. Of course we must, and we should have done sobefore."

  "I have kept hoping to hear again from Sir Adam or Mrs Lilford," saidMrs Derwent. "I should much have preferred not to meet Lady Harriottill she understood better about us."

  "She will probably ring the bell and tell the housekeeper to show us thepictures," said Stasy. "_You_, not `us,' I should say, for, of course,I needn't go."

  "You can go with us for the drive and wait in the fly outside," saidBlanche.

  For though they had been talking of a pony-carriage "in the spring,"they had not yet heard of a suitable steed; and on the whole, perhapsMrs Derwent was not sorry to defer for a little any avoidable expense,the installation at Pinnerton Lodge having cost, as is always the casein such matters, much more than she had anticipated.

  Stasy received her sister's proposal with a laugh. "All right," shesaid. "Anything for a spree. I'll come."

  Something in her tone slightly grated on Blanche.

  "Stasy," she said, "I do hope even the little you see of those girls atMrs Maxton's is not doing you any harm. You--you seem to be catching uptheir expressions."

  "What b--nonsense!" said Stasy, quickly substituting the second word,though she could not help reddening a little. "Mamma, you know betterthan Blanche. Is there anything unladylike in `all right,' or `aspree?'"

  "I can scarcely say, my dear," said her mother. "But I know what yoursister means. It is the _tone_ we--"

  Stasy ran across the room and stopped her mother saying more, by a kiss.

  "Don't be afraid," she said. "I'm not going to get vulgar and horrid.And some of those girls are really quite nice, mamma. I'll tell youwhat--I wish you'd let me invite one or two here one afternoon to tea.Oh, might I? It would be so nice. I'd like them to see you andBlanchie, and then you can j
udge for yourselves if the ones I bringaren't quite ladylike. It is so dull sometimes, mamma. Do say I may."

  "I will think about it, dear," said Mrs Derwent. "It is not that I haveany prejudice against the girls. I daresay there are among them trulyrefined and charming natures, but I do not want to open a