'I say,' he hoarsely cried, 'what's all this? Who has been telling infamous tales of my house?'
'We cannot tell-' began Phoebe.
'Do you know anything of this?' he interrupted, fiercely turning on Miss Fennimore.
'Nothing, sir. The letters which your sister has received have equally surprised and distressed me.'
'Then they have set on you, Phoebe! The whole pack in full cry, as if it mattered to them whether I chose to have the Old Gentleman in the house, so long as he did not meddle with you!'
'I beg your pardon, Mr. Fulmort,' interposed the governess, 'the remonstrance is quite just. Had I been aware of the character of some of your late guests, I could not have wished your sisters to remain in the house with them.'
'Are these your sentiments, Phoebe?' he asked, sternly.
'I am afraid they ought to be,' she sadly answered.
'Silly child; so this pack of censorious women and parsons have frightened you into giving me up.'
'Sisters do not give up brothers, Mervyn. You know how I thank you for having me here, but I could not amuse you, or make it pleasant to you, so there must be an end of it.'
'So they hunt you out to be bullied by Juliana, or slaved to death by Augusta, which is it to be? Or maybe Robert has got his sisterhood cut and dried for you; only mind, he shan't make away with your 30,000 pounds while I live to expose those popish tricks.'
'For shame, Mervyn,' cried Phoebe, all in a glow; 'I will not hear Robert so spoken of: he is always kind and good, and has taught me every right thing I know!'
'Oh, very well; and pray when does he summon you from among the ungodly? Will the next train be soon enough?'
'Don't, Mervyn! Your friends go to-day, don't they? Mr. Crabbe does not desire any change to be made before he comes to see about it. May we not stay till that time, and spend our Christmas together?'
'You must ask Robert and Juliana, since you prefer them.'
'No,' said Phoebe, with spirit; 'it is right to attend to my elder sisters, and Robert has always helped and taught me, and I must trust his guidance, as I always have done. And I trust you too, Mervyn. You never thought you were doing us any harm. I may trust you still,' she added, with so sweet and imploring a look that Mervyn gave an odd laugh, with some feeling in it.
'Harm? Great harm I have done this creature, eh?' he said, with his hand on her shoulder.
'Few could do
'Who cares for report! I say, Phoebe, we will laugh at them all. You pluck up a spirit, stay with me, and we'll entertain all the county, and then get some great swell to bring you out in town, and see what Juliana will say!'
'I will stay with you while you are alone, and Mr. Crabbe lets me,' said Phoebe.
'Old fool of a fellow! Why couldn't my father have made me your guardian, and then there would have been none of this row! One would think I had had her down to act barmaid to the fellows. And you never spoke to one, did you, Phoebe?'
'Only now and then to Mr. Hastings. I could not help it after the day he came into the study when I was copying for you.'
'Ah, well! that is nothing-nobody minds old Jack. I shall let them all know you were as safe as a Turk's wife in a harem, and maybe old Crabbe will hear reason if we get him down here alone, without a viper at each ear, as he had last time.'
With which words Mervyn departed, and Miss Fennimore exclaimed in some displeasure, 'You can never think of remaining, Phoebe.'
'I am afraid not,' said Phoebe; 'Mervyn does not seem to know what is proper for us, and I am too young to judge, so I suppose we must go. I wish I could make him happy with music, or books, or anything a woman could do! If you please, I think I must go over to the Holt. I cannot settle to anything just yet, and I shall answer my letters better when I have seen Miss Charlecote.'
In fact Phoebe felt herself going to her other guardian; but as she left the room, Bertha came hurriedly in from the garden, with a plaid thrown round her. 'What-what-what's the matter?' she hastily asked, following Phoebe to her room. 'Is there an end of all these mysteries?'
'Yes,' said Phoebe, 'Miss Fennimore is ready for you.'
'As if that were all I wanted to know. Do you think I did not hear Mervyn storming like a lion?'
'I am sorry you did hear,' said Phoebe, 'for it was not pleasant. It seems that it is not thought proper for us to live here while Mervyn has so many gentleman-guests, so,' with a sigh, 'you will have your wish, Bertha. They mean us to go away!'
'It is not my wish now,' said Bertha, pulling pins in and out of Phoebe's pincushion. 'I am not the child I was in the summer. Don't go, Phoebe; I know you can get your way, if you try for it.'
'I must try to be put in the right way, Bertha, that is all I want.'
'And you are going to the Holt for the most precise, narrow-minded way you can get. I wish I were in your place, Phoebe.'
Scarcely had Phoebe driven from the door, before she saw Miss Charlecote crossing the grass on foot, and after the interchange of a few words, it was agreed to talk while driving on towards Elverslope. Each was laden with the same subject, for not only had Honor heard from Robert, but during her visit to Moorcroft she had become enlightened on the gossip that seldom reached the Holt, and had learnt that the whole neighbourhood was scandalized at the Beauchamp doings, and was therefore shy of taking notice of the young people there. She had been incredulous at first, then extremely shocked and distressed, and though in part convinced that more than she guessed had passed beyond the west wing, she had come primed with a representation which she cautiously administered to Phoebe. The girl was more indignant on her brother's account than alarmed on her own.
'If that is the way the Raymonds talk of Mervyn,' cried she, 'no wonder they made their niece cast him off, and drive him to despair.'
'It was no unkindness of the Raymonds, my dear. They were only sorry for you.'
'I do not want them to be sorry for me; they ought to be sorry for Mervyn,' said Phoebe, almost petulantly.
'Perhaps they are,' said Honor. 'It was only in kindness that they spoke, and they had almost anticipated my explanation that you were kept entirely apart. Every gentleman hereabouts who has been at Beauchamp has declared such to be the case.'
'I should think so!' said Phoebe; 'Mervyn knows how to take care of us better than that!'
'But all ladies do not seem willing to believe as much, shame on them,' said Honor; 'and, tell me, Phoebe, have people called on you?'
'Not many, but I have not called on them since they left their cards of inquiry. I had been thinking whether I ought.'
'We will consider. Perhaps I had better take you round some day, but I have been a very remiss protector, my poor child, if all be true that I am told of some of Mervyn's friends. It was an insult to have them under the same roof with you.'
'Will you look at this letter?' said Phoebe. 'It is very kind-it is from Lucy.'
These plain words alone occurred to Phoebe as a preparation for a letter that was sure to move Miss Charlecote greatly, if only by the slight of not having written to her, the most obvious person. But the flighty generosity, and deep though inconsistent feeling were precious, and the proud relenting of the message at the end touched Honor with hope. They laughed at the report that had elicited Lucilla's letter, but the reserve of the warning about Mr. Hastings, coming from the once unscrupulous girl, startled Honor even more than what she had heard at Moorcroft. Was the letter to be answered? Yes, by all means, cried Honor, catching at any link of communication. She could discover Lucilla's address, and was sure that even brief thanks and explanations from Phoebe would be good for Lucy.
Like Miss Fennimore, Honor was surprised by Phoebe's composure under her share of the evil report. The strictures which would have been dreadful to an older person seemed to fly over her innocent head, their force either uncomprehended or unfelt. She yielded implicitly to the propriety of the change, but her grief was at the family quarrel, the leaving home, and the unmerited degree of blame cast on Mervyn, not the aspersions on herself; although, as Honor became vexed at her calmness, she withheld none of them in the desire to convince her of the
