"And his mother is to be done; indeed, he has sketched her for St. Juliet."
"Flapsy! St. Romeo, too, I suppose?"
"Nonsense, Nag! There really was a St. Juliet or Julitta, and she was his mother, and they both were martyrs. I will tell you all the history," began Paula; but Agatha interposed.
"You must like having him down here. Sister must be much pleased with him. She used to like old Mr. Delrio."
"Well, we have not said much about him," owned Paula. "He does not seem to wish it, or expect to be in with swells."
"We could not stand his being treated like a common house-painter and upholsterer," added Vera.
"Surely no one does so," said Agatha.
"Not exactly," said Paula; "at least, he has had supper at St. Kenelm's Vicarage with Lady Flight, and luncheon at Carrara with Captain and Mrs. Henderson."
"Because he was doing the child," interposed Vera; "and Thekla says that Primrose Merrifield says that her Aunt Jane-that is, old Miss Mohun-says that Lady Flight is not a gentlewoman."
"What has that to do with Magdalen?"
"Why, she is so taken up with those swells of hers, especially now that there is a talk of Lord Somebody's yacht coming in, that she would never treat him as on equal terms, but just keep him at a distance, like a mere decorator."
"That seemed to me just what you were doing," said Agatha, "when he was so kind and helpful about my box."
"Oh, they were all there, and we did not want to be talked of," said Vera, blushing. "He understands."
"He understands," repeated Paula. "We do see him at the church and at the Sisters'. Those dear Sisters! There is no nonsense about them. You will love them, Nag."
"Well, it does not seem to me to be treating our own sister Magdalen fairly."
"The M.A.!" said Vera, in a tone of wonder.
"No; not to be intimate with a person you do not introduce to her, because you do not think she would consider him as on equal terms."
"Sister Beata quite approves," added Paula, sincerely, not guessing how little Sister Beata knew of the situation, of which she only heard through the medium of her own representations to Sister Mena.
The two girls rushed into the charms of these two Sisters, and the plan for an entertainment for the maidens of the Guild of St. Milburgha, at which they were to assist. It lasted up to the gate of the Goyle, where Magdalen and Thekla were ready to meet them; and they trooped merrily up the hill, Agatha keeping to Magdalen's side in a way that struck her as friendly and affectionate. It seemed to be more truly coming home than the elder sister had dared to anticipate; nor, indeed, did she feel the veiled antagonism to herself that had previously disappointed her.
The talk was about St. Robert's, about Oxford in general, the new friends, the principal, the games, the debates, the lectures, the sermons, the celebrities, the undergraduates, the concerts, the chapels, the boats, the architecture; all were touched on for further discussion by and by as they sat at the evening meal, and then on the chairs and cushions in the verandah; and through all there was no exclusion of the elder sister, but rather she was the one who could appreciate the interest of what Agatha had seen and heard; and even she was allowed to enter into the amusement of an Oxford bon mot, sometimes, indeed, when it was far beyond Paula and Vera.
There was no doubt that the term had much improved Agatha even in appearance and manner. She held herself better, pronounced better, uttered no slangish expressions, and twice she repressed little discourtesies on the part of her sisters, and neglects such as were not the offspring of tender familiarity, but of an indifference akin to rudeness. Magdalen had endured, knowing how bad it was for their manners, but unwilling to become more of an annoyance than could be helped. The indescribable difference in Agatha's whole manner sent Magdalen to bed happier than she had been since the arrival of her sisters, and feeling as if Agatha had come to her own side of a barrier.
Perhaps it was quite true; for the last two months had been a time of growth with the maiden, changing her from a schoolgirl to a student, from the "brook to the river." She had, indeed, studied hard, but that she had always done, as being clever, intellectual and ambitious. The difference had been from her intercourse with persons slightly her elders, but who did not look on authorities as natural enemies, to be tolerated for one's own good. There had been a development of the conscience and soul even in this first term that made her regard her elder sister not merely with a sense of compulsory gratitude and duty, but with sympathy and fellow feeling, which were the more excited when she saw her own chilliness of last spring carried further by the two young girls.
So breakfast went off merrily; and after the round of the garden and the pets, Agatha promised to come, when summoned, to hear how well Thekla could read French. In the meantime she waited in the morning-room, looking at her sisters' books; Vera pushed aside the Venetian blind.
"Don't come in that way, Flapsy!" called Paula. "You'll be heard in the dining-room, and the M.A. will tremble at your dusty feet."
"They aren't dusty," said Vera, pulling up the blind with a clatter.
"Aren't they?" laughed Paula, pointing.
"You had better go and wipe them," said Agatha.
"I don't believe in M.A.'s fidgets," returned Vera.
"But I do, in proper deference to the head of the house," said Agatha, gravely.
"Murder in Irish!" cried Vera, bouncing away, while Paula argued, "Really, Nag, life is not long enough to attend to all the M.A.'s little worries."
"Polly, dear, I am afraid we have been on a wrong tack with our sister. I don't like calling her by that name."
"You began it!" exclaimed Vera, dashing in by the door as she spoke.
"I could not have meant it as a nickname to be always in use."
"Oh yes, you did, I remember"-and an argument was beginning, which Agatha cut short by saying, "Any way, it is bad taste."
"Nag has been so much among the real M.A. that she is tender about their title."
"She wants to be one herself," said Vera; "and so she will if she goes on getting learned and faddy."
"In both senses?" said Paula.
Agatha laughed a little, but added, "No, Polly, the thing is that it is hardly kind or right to put that sort of label upon a person like Magdalen-who has done so much for us-and-"
The perverse young hearts could not bear a touch on the chord of gratitude; and Paula burst in, "Label or libel, do you mean?"
"It becomes a libel as you use it."
"Do you want us to call her sister or Magdalen, the whole scriptural mouthful at once?"
"I believe that to call her Magdalen or Maidie, as my father did, would make her feel nearer to us than the formal way of saying 'Sister.'"
"I don't mind about changing," said Paula. "She can never be the same to us as dear Sister Mena."
"She is so tiresome," added Vera. "She bothers so over my music; calling out if I make ever so small a slip, and making me go over all again."
"Well she may," said Paula. "She is making little Tick play so nicely. Just listen! But I can't bear her dragging us off to that horrid old Arnscombe Church and the nasty stuffy Sunday school."
"That reminds me," said Agatha; "Gillian Merrifield met a relation of Mr. Earl's, who said that Miss Prescott had brought quite new life and spirit to the poor old man, who had been getting quite out of heart for want of any one to help and sympathise with him."
"Then he ought to make his services more Catholic," said Paula. "But nothing will wean her from the old parochial idea. Why, she would not let me give my winter stockings to Sister Beata's poor girls, but made me darn them and put them by."
"Yes, and mine, which were bad enough to give away, she made me darn first," cried Vera. "She is ever so much worse than the superlative about mending one's clothes."