And behold three of those foolish lads have brought her gilt and painted boxes of bon-bons, over which there was a prodigious giggling and semi-refusing and bantering among the young folks, worrying Emily and me excessively, though we knew it would not do to interfere.
There is a sea-fog this evening unfavourable to the usual promenades, and we elders, including the tutor, were sitting with my mother, when, in her whirlwind fashion, in burst Jane, dragging her little sister Chattie with her, and breathlessly exclaiming, "Father, father, come and help! They are gambling, and I can't get Meg away!"
When the nervous ones had been convinced that no one had been caught by the tide or fallen off the rocks, Jane explained that Metelill had given one box of bon-bons to the children, who were to be served with one apiece all round every day. And the others were put up by Metelill to serve as prizes in the 'racing game,' which some one had routed out, left behind in the lodging, and which was now spread on the dining-table, with all the young people playing in high glee, and with immense noise.
"Betting too!" said Jane in horror. "Mr. Elwood betted three chocolate creams upon Charley, and Pica took it! Father! Come and call Meg away."
She spoke exactly as if she were summoning him to snatch her sister from rouge et noir at Monaco; and her face was indescribable when her aunt Edith set us all off laughing by saying, "Fearful depravity, my dear."
"Won't you come, father?" continued Jane; "Mr. Methuen, won't you come and stop those young men?"
Mr. Methuen smiled a little and looked at Horace, who said-
"Hush, Janie; these are not things in which to interfere."
"Then," quoth Jane sententiously, "I am not astonished at the dissipation of the university."
And away she flounced in tears of wrath. Her mother went after her, and we laughed a little, it was impossible to help it, at the bathos of the chocolate creams; but, as Mr. Methuen said, she was really right, the amusement was undesirable, as savouring of evil. Edith, to my vexation, saw no harm in it; but Horace said very decidedly he hoped it would not happen again; and Margaret presently returned, saying she hoped that she had pacified Jane, and shown her that to descend as if there were an uproar in the school would only do much more harm than was likely to happen in that one evening; and she said to me afterwards, "I see what has been wanting in our training. We have let children's loyalty run into intolerance and rudeness." But Meg was quite innocent of there being any harm in it, and only needed reproof for being too much charmed by the pleasure for once to obey her dictatorial sister.
13, ten A.M.-Horace has had it out with sundry of the young ladies, so as to prevent any more betting. Several had regretted it. "Only they did so want to get rid of the bon-bons! And Jane did make such an uproar." After all, nobody did really bet but Charley and the young Elwood, and Pica only that once. Jane candidly owns that a little gentleness would have made a difference.
Again I see this obtuseness to courtesy towards strangers. Our despised church has become popular, and so many of the young folks choose to accompany us that they overflowed into the free seats in the aisle, where I had a full view of them from above. These benches are long, and I was sorry to see the girls planting themselves fast at the outer end, and making themselves square, so as to hinder any one else from getting in, till the verger came and spoke to them, when Charley giggled offensively; and even then they did not make room, but forced the people to squeeze past. Isa could not help herself, not being the outermost; but she was much distressed, and does not shelter herself under Charley's plea that it was so hot that the verger should have been indicted for cruelty to animals. Certainly they all did come home very hot from walking back with the pupils.
Pica and Avice were not among them, having joined the Druces in going to Hollyford, where Horace preached this morning. Their gray serges and sailor hats were, as they said, "not adapted to the town congregation."
"It is the congregation you dress for?" said their uncle dryly, whereupon Pica upbraided him with inconsistency in telling his poor people not to use the excuse of 'no clothes,' and that the heart, not the dress, is regarded. He said it was true, but that he should still advocate the poor man's coming in his cleanest and best. "There are manners towards God as well as towards man," he said.
I was too much tired by the heat to go to church again this evening, and am sitting with my mother, who is dozing. Where the young people are I do not know exactly, but I am afraid I hear Charley's shrill laugh on the beach.
14.-Who do you think has found us out? Our dear old Governor-General, "in all his laurels," as enthusiastic little Avice was heard saying, which made Freddy stare hard and vainly in search of them. He is staying at Hollybridge Park, and seeing our name in the S. Clements' list of visitors, he made Lady Hollybridge drive him over to call, and was much disappointed to find that you could not be here during his visit. He was as kind and warm-hearted as ever, and paid our dear mother such compliments on her son, that we tell her the bows on her cap are starting upright with pride.
Lady Hollybridge already knew Edith. She made herself very pleasant, and insisted on our coming en masse to a great garden party which they are giving to-morrow. Hollybridge is the S. Clements' lion, with splendid grounds and gardens, and some fine old pictures, so it is a fine chance for the young people; and we are going to hire one of the large excursion waggonettes, which will hold all who have age, dress, and will for gaieties. The pupils, as Mr. Methuen is a friend of the Hollybridge people, will attend us as outriders on their bicycles. I am rather delighted at thus catching out the young ladies who did not think it worth while to bring a Sunday bonnet. They have all rushed into S. Clements to furbish themselves for the occasion, and we are left to the company of the small Druces. Neither Margaret nor Emily chooses to go, and will keep my mother company.
I ventured on administering a sovereign apiece to Isa and Jane Druce. The first blushed and owned that it was very welcome, as her wardrobe had never recovered a great thunderstorm at Oxford. Jane's awkwardness made her seem as if it were an offence on my part, but her mother tells me it made her very happy. Her father says that she tells him he was hard on Avice, a great favourite of his, and that I must ask Jane to explain, for it is beyond him. It is all right about the Oxford girl. I have engaged her, and she goes home to-morrow to prepare herself. This afternoon she is delighted to assist her young ladies in their preparations. I liked her much in the private interview. I was rather surprised to find that it was 'Miss Avice,' of whom she spoke with the greatest fervour, as having first made friends with her, and then having constantly lent her books and read to her in her illness.
15.-S. Swithun is evidently going to be merciful to us to-day, and the damsels have been indefatigable-all, that is to say, but the two Londoners, who have lawn tennis dresses, and their mother's maid to turn them out complete. Isa brought home some tulle and white jessamine with which she is deftly freshening the pretty compromise between a bonnet and a hat which she wears on Sunday; also a charming parasol, with a china knob and a wreath of roses at the side. She hopes I shall not think her extravagant, but she had a little money of her own.
Jane Druce displays two pairs of gloves and two neckties for herself and her sister; and after all Meg will not go; she is so uncouth that her mother does not like her to go without her own supervision; and she with true Bourne Parva self-appreciation and exclusiveness says-