Etheldreda the Ready Part 2

"She shan't!" shrieked Maud, at one and the same moment, her fair, placid face flus.h.i.+ng to the same crimson hue.

They faced each other like two infuriated turkey c.o.c.ks--heads erect, feathers ruffled, bodies swaying to and fro with indignation.

"As if I should!"

"As if I'd let you!"

"Teach her!"

"Teach me!"

"The very idea!"

"I'm 'stonished you should talk such nonsense, Rowena!"

Rowena laughed softly. It was the first time she had unbent since the telling of the dread news. She put her head on one side and stared at Dreda's furious face with an "I told you so!" expression which that young lady found infinitely exasperating.

"Our dear Dreda, as usual, finds preaching easier than practice. You see, my dear, when it comes to the point, you are not a bit more resigned than I am myself. It's worse for me to give up all the fun of my first season than for you to stay at home instead of going to school; the only difference is that I have sense enough to realise what is before me, while you are so taken up with sentiment and--"

"Oh, shut up, girls! Stop wrangling, for pity's sake!" cried Hereward, impatiently. "Things are bad enough as they are, without making them worse. If you are going to nag, we'll go downstairs and leave you to yourselves. It's such bad form to kick up a fuss; but girls are all alike. You wouldn't find a boy going on like that--"

Rowena turned upon him with wide, challenging eyes.

"Wouldn't I? Are you so sure? Suppose father were to tell you to- morrow that you couldn't be a soldier, but must go into an office and try to earn money for yourself... Suppose he took you away from Eton, Gurth, and sent you to a cheap school! How would you like that?"

Silence... The two lads sat staring into the fire with dogged faces.

They scorned to cry aloud, but the horror of the prospect had for a moment a so paralysing effect that they could not reply. Leave Sandhurst in the middle of one's course, and become--a _clerk_! Leave Eton and the fellows, and go to one of those miserable, second-rate shows which all good Etonians regarded with ineffable contempt! Was it possible to suffer such degradation and live?

Rowena was touched to compunction by the sight of the stricken faces, for though at the moment the worst side of her character was in the ascendant, she was by no means hard-hearted, and, moreover, Hereward was her especial friend and companion. She laughed again, and gave an impatient shrug to her shoulders.

"Oh, don't be afraid ... He never _will_! Whatever happens, nothing will be allowed to interfere with `the boys' and their careers! We shall all pinch and screw and live on twopence-halfpenny a week, so as to be able to pay your bills. It's always the same story. Everything is sacrificed for the sons."

"Quite right, too," maintained the eldest son, stoutly. "How are you going to keep up the honour of a family if you don't give the boys a chance? It doesn't matter a fig whether a girl is educated or not, so long as she can read and write. She'll marry, of course, and then she has nothing to do but add up the bills."

At this truly masculine distinction, Rowena and Dreda tossed scornful heads and rolled indignant eyes to the ceiling.

"I shall never marry!" announced the former, thinking ruefully of the bare countryside, with never a house of consequence within a radius of miles ... "I am a suffragette. I believe in the high, lofty mission of women!" cried the second, who had been converted to the movement the day before by the sight of some sketches in the _Daily Graphic_. Only nine- year-old Maud sniffed, and opined, "I shall marry a lord! Then he'll have lots of money, and I'll give it to father, and we'll live happily ever after."

Poor Maud! Her millennium was not to begin just yet, at least; for Nannie, her immaculate but austere attendant, rapped at the door at that moment, and summoned her nursling to be bathed and put to bed. Maud was every evening enraged afresh at being called at such a ridiculously early hour, and to-night her annoyance was increased by the fact that she was torn ruthlessly from the rare treat of a conference with her elders, in which she had really been and truly on the level of a "grown- up." She fumed with anger, but presently consolation came with the idea of a dramatic disclosure upstairs. She waited until she and her attendant were alone together in the bedroom, and then sprung the bolt in her most impressive fas.h.i.+on.

"Nannie, we're ruined!"

"Indeed, miss. Sorry to hear it, I'm sure," returned Nannie, unperturbed. It is safe to predict that any important family news will be known as soon in the servants' hall as in the drawing-room, and Nannie had the air of listening to a very stale piece of information.

Maud was distinctly disappointed, but nerved herself for fresh efforts.

"Yes. Bankrup'! There's nothing left. I'm going to give up all my savings. What will you do, Nannie--leave?"

"I shall be pleased to stay on, miss, as long as your mother can afford to give me my wages and a nursery maid."

"Oh, Nannie, how _mean_! The Pharisees likewise do as much as that! In storybooks the nurses always stay on, whether they are ruined or not, and give their money to help. You _are_ mean!"

"No impertinence, please," said Nannie sharply. She was just beginning to comb out Maud's hair, and it was astonis.h.i.+ng how many knots there appeared to be that evening. "I'm sorry I spoke," reflected poor Maud.

CHAPTER FOUR.

In the next week future plans were practically settled so far as the young people were concerned. Rowena had been right in her surmise about the boys, for, like most fathers, Mr Saxon was prepared to retrench in any and every direction rather than interfere with the education of his sons. It was a family tradition that the eldest son should go into the army; therefore, at all costs, Hereward must continue that tradition.

The Saxons had for generations been Eton boys, therefore it was impossible that Gurth could attend another school. As to the girls-- well, Mr Saxon dearly loved his three daughters, and was proud of their grace and beauty, but in effect he held much the same ideas with regard to their education as those which Hereward had expounded to his sisters'

indignation. He thought it quite unnecessary to spend large sums on schooling for girls, and for his own part frankly preferred a woman who had no pretensions to being a blue-stocking.

The boys received the intelligence with a complacent sense that all was as it should be, and the one great anxiety being relieved, were disposed to make light of minor privations. What though the manner of living at home must necessarily be less luxurious than of yore, holidays occupied, after all, a small portion of the year, and in a few years' time they would be launching out for themselves. Hereward had an ambition to join an Indian regiment. Gurth was destined for the Civil Service. The Meads would be quite a good old place in which to spend an occasional furlough. But the girls! The girls were by no means reconciled to being sacrificed on the altar of masculine ambition. When the programme for their own future was announced by the nervously anxious mother, Rowena, Etheldreda, and Maud were alike consumed with indignation and dismay. They could hardly believe the evidence of their own ears as they listened to her words:

"Father thought I had better have a little talk with you, dear girls, and explain to you what we have decided about your future. It has been a difficult question--very difficult, and we have had to face alterations which we would thankfully have avoided, for in the end it simply comes down to the bare question of what we can or cannot afford.

The boys' education is unfortunately very costly, and those expenses cannot be reduced."

"Why?" demanded Dreda. The crisp, sharp question cut like a lash across Mrs Saxon's soft-toned explanation, and she started, and faced her young daughter with a shrinking almost of dismay. Perhaps in her heart of hearts she, too, doubted the justice of the masculine mandate that girls should invariably be sacrificed for boys, but she was too loyal to admit any dissension when her husband had laid down his commands.

"Why, Dreda?" she repeated, gently. "Because the boys have their way to make in the world ... If we have not much money to leave them, we must at least give them every chance of success. Their education will be their capital."

"An officer in the army needs a large private allowance. Father has always said so. Hereward will need to be helped all his life, instead of being able to help the family as an eldest son should do ... He could go into business."

"Oh, Dreda dear! You, who are so sympathetic and kind-hearted. Think of the terrible disappointment! There always has been a soldier in the family."

"The family has always been rich. Of course I don't want him to be disappointed. I don't want _anyone_ to be disappointed," declared Dreda with an emphasis which brought the colour into her mother's thin cheeks.

"I suppose I can go to Madame Clerc's at Easter, just the same?"

"I--I am afraid ... Madame Clerc's is a very expensive school, darling.

I am afraid it is out of the question! We will do all we can for you.

That is one of the princ.i.p.al things which we have had on our minds the last week, and I trust--I believe we have made satisfactory arrangements. Miss Bruce does not feel able to give you finis.h.i.+ng lessons, but Mrs Webster, of Swithin, tells me that she is quite satisfied with the school to which she has sent her three daughters.

The education is all that could be desired, and the fees much more moderate than Madame Clerc's. We should see more of you, too, darling, for you would be able to come home for the exeats in the middle of the term--"

"Mother! What are you saying? You can't possibly be in earnest.

Please, please don't frighten me! It's a hateful school. I have always looked down upon it and detested it, and thanked goodness _I_ should never have to go to it!"

Dreda's face was aflame with colour; her eyes had widened until they looked about twice their natural size, in her voice there sounded a quiver of so real a distress that the mother flushed painfully in response.

"Dear! why be so prejudiced? It may not be so fas.h.i.+onable a school as Madame Clerc's, but it is admirable in every way, and you will meet friends there whom you already know--the Websters..."

"Know them! We don't! We have met now and then, but we always determine not to know them. We christened them `The Currant Buns,' and hated them from the first moment. Round, white faces and little curranty eyes!"

"Dreda! Dreda! What has appearance to do with it? You confess yourself that you are prejudiced, so you cannot possibly judge... They are said to be clever and industrious, and exceptionally well brought up, but there will be other girls, plenty of other girls from whom to choose friends."

"It is settled, then? Really _settled_. You have seen the mistress?"

"Yes, dear, it is settled. You are to begin work at the beginning of the term. The Websters are delighted to think of having you as a companion."

Dreda flung out her arms with a gesture of pa.s.sionate despair, stood for a moment confronting her mother with flas.h.i.+ng eyes and quivering lips, then suddenly wheeled round, and rushed headlong from the room.