"I'm sure I don't want to go among a lot of stupid people, who care for nothing but fine clothes and lawn tennis."
There was a light till one o'clock last night in the room where Avice sleeps with Charley and the dog; and I scarcely saw either of the Oxford sisters or Jane all this morning till dinner-time, when Pica appeared very appropriately to her name, turned out in an old black silk dress left behind by her mother, and adorned with white tulle in all sorts of folds, also a pretty white bonnet made up by Avice's clever fingers, and adorned with some soft gray sea-birds' feathers and white down. Isa and Metelill were very well got up and nice. Metelill looks charming, but I am afraid her bouquet is from one of those foolish pupils. She, as usual, has shared it with Isa, who has taken half to prevent her cousin being remarkable. And, after all, poor Avice is to be left behind. There was no time to make up things for two, and being in mourning, she could not borrow, though Metelill would have been too happy to lend. She says she shall be very happy with the children, but I can't help thinking there was a tear in her eye when she ran to fetch her dress cloak for Jane, whom, by the bye, Avice has made wonderfully more like other people. Here is the waggonette, and I must finish to-morrow.
16.-We have had a successful day. The drive each way was a treat in itself, and the moon rising over the sea on our way home was a sight never to be forgotten. Hollybridge is charming in itself. Those grounds with their sea-board are unique, and I never saw such Spanish chestnuts in England. Then the gardens and the turf! One must have lived as long in foreign parts as we have to appreciate the perfect finish and well-tended look of such places. Your dear old chief does not quite agree. He says he wants space, and is oppressed with the sense of hedges and fences, except when he looks to the sea, and even there the rocks look polished off, and treated by landscape gardeners! He walked me about to see the show places, and look at the pictures, saying he had been so well lionised that he wanted some one to discharge his information upon. It was great fun to hear him criticising the impossibilities of a battle-piece-Blenheim, I think-the anachronisms of the firearms and uniforms, and the want of discipline around Marlborough, who would never have won a battle at that rate. You know how his hawk's eye takes note of everything. He looked at Metelill and said, "Uncommonly pretty girl that, and knows it," but when I asked what he thought of Isabel's looks, he said, "Pretty, yes; but are you sure she is quite aboveboard? There's something I don't like about her eyes." I wish he had not said so. I know there is a kind of unfriendly feeling towards her among some of the girls, especially the Druces and Charley. I have heard Charley openly call her a humbug, but I have thought much of this was dislike to the softer manners, and perhaps jealousy of my notice, and the expression that the old lord noticed is often the consequence of living in an uncongenial home.
Of course my monopoly of the hero soon ended, and as I had no acquaintances there, and the young ones had been absorbed into games, or had fraternised with some one, I betook myself to explorations in company with Jane, who had likewise been left out. After we had wandered along a dazzling stand of calceolarias, she said, "Aunt Charlotte, papa says I ought to tell you something; I mean, why Avice could not come to-day, and why she has nothing to wear but her round hat. It is because she and Pica spent all they had in paying for that Maude Harris at the Convalescent Home. They had some kind of flimsy gauzy bonnets that were faded and utterly done for after Commemoration week; and as Uncle Martyn is always growling about ladies' luggage, they thought it would be a capital plan to go without all the time they are down here, till another quarter is due. Avice never thought of its not being right to go to Church such a figure, and now she finds that papa thinks the command to "have power on her head" really may apply to that sort of fashion, we are going to contrive something for Sunday, but it could not be done in time for to-day. Besides, she had no dress but a serge."
"She preferred dressing her sister to dressing herself," I answered; and Jane began assuring me that no one knew how unselfish that dear old Bird is. The little money she had, she added to Pica's small remnant, and thus enough had been provided to fit the elder sister out.
"I suppose," I said, "that Isa manages better, for she does not seem to be reduced to the same extremities, though I suppose she has less allowance than her cousins."
"She has exactly the same. I know it." And Jane caught herself up, evidently checking something I might have thought ill-natured, which made me respond something intended to be moralising, but which was perhaps foolish, about good habits of economy, and how this disappointment, taken so good-humouredly, would be a lesson to Avice. "A lesson? I should think so," said Jane bluntly. "A lesson not to lend her money to Isa"; and then, when I asked what she meant, she blurted out that all Isa's so-called share of the subscription for Maude Harris had been advanced by Avice-Pica had told her so, with comments on her sister's folly in lending what she well knew would never be repaid; and Alice could not deny it, only defending herself by saying, she could not sacrifice the girl. It was a very uncomfortable revelation, considering that Isa might have given her cousin my sovereign, but no doubt she did not think that proper, as I had meant it to be spent for this outing.
I will at least give her the benefit of the doubt, and I would not encourage Jane to say any more about her. Indeed, the girl herself did not seem so desirous of dwelling on Isa as of doing justice to Avice, whom, she told me very truly, I did not know. "She is always the one to give way and be put aside for Pie and Isa," said Jane. And now I think over the time we have had together, I believe it has often been so. "You are very fond of her," I said; and Jane answered, "I should think so! Why, she spent eight months with us once at Bourne Parva, just after the great row with Miss Hurlstone. Oh, didn't you know? They had a bad governess, who used to meet a lover-a German musician, I think he was-when they were out walking, and bullied Avice because she was honest. When it all came to light, Pica came out and Isa was sent to school, but Avice had got into a low state of health, and they said Oxford was not good for her, so she came to us. And papa prepared her for Confirmation, and she did everything with us, and she really is just like one of ourselves," said Jane, as the highest praise imaginable, though any one who contrasted poor Jane's stiff piqué (Miss Dadsworth's turn-out) with the grace even of the gray serge, might not think it a compliment. Jane was just beginning to tell me that Avice always wrote to her to lay before her father the difficulties about right and wrong faith and practice that their way of life and habits of society bring before the poor child, when Isa descended upon us with "Oh! Aunt Charlotte, I could not think what had become of you, when I saw the great man without you."
I begin to wonder whether she is really so very fond of me, or whether she does not like to see me with one of the others.
However, I shall be able to take Jane's hint, and cultivate Avice, for, as my mother did not come yesterday, Lady Hollybridge has most kindly insisted on her going over to-day. The carriage is taking some one to the station, and is to call for her and me to bring us to luncheon, the kind people promising likewise to send us back. So I asked whether I might bring a niece who had not been able to come yesterday, and as the young people had, as usual, become enamoured of Metelill, they begged for her likewise. Avice looks very well in the dress she made up for Pica, and being sisters and in mourning, the identity will only be natural. She is very much pleased and very grateful, and declares that she shall see everything she cares about much more pleasantly than in the larger party, and perhaps 'really hear the hero talk.' And Uncle Horace says, "True, you Bird, you are not like some young folk, who had rather hear themselves talk than Socrates and S. Ambrose both at once." "Oh!" said saucy Pica, "now we know what Uncle Horace thinks of his own conversations with father!" By the bye, Martyn and Mary come home to-morrow, and I am very glad of it, for those evening diversions on the beach go on in full force, and though there is nothing tangible, except Charley's smoke, to object to, and it is the present way of young people, there is something unsatisfactory in it. Edith does not seem to mind what her daughters do. Margaret has no occasion to be uneasy about Jane, who always stays with the little ones while the maids are at supper, and generally takes with her the devoted Avice, who has some delicacy of throat forbidding these evening excursions. Meg gets more boisterous and noisy every day, Uchtred being her chief companion; but as she is merely a tomboy, I believe her parents think it inexpedient to give her hints that might only put fancies in her head. So they have only prohibited learning to smoke, staying out later than nine o'clock, and shrieking louder than a steam whistle!