evening for a week.
CHAPTER XXIII.
Oh! the golden-hearted daisies, Witnessed there before my youth, To the truth of things, with praises Of the beauty of the truth.--E. B. BROWNING.
'Margaret, see here.'
The doctor threw into her lap a letter, which made her cheeks light up.
Mr. Ernescliffe wrote that his father's friend, Captain Gordon, having been appointed to the frigate Alcestis, had chosen him as one of his lieutenants, and offered a nomination as naval cadet for his brother. He had replied that the navy was not Hector's destination, but, as Captain Gordon had no one else in view, had prevailed on him to pass on the proposal to Harry May.
Alan wrote in high terms of his captain, declaring that he esteemed the having sailed with him as one of the greatest advantages he had ever received, and adding that, for his own part, Dr. May needed no promise from him to be assured that he would watch over Harry like his own brother. It was believed that the Alcestis was destined for the South American station.
'A three years' business,' said Dr. May, with a sigh. 'But the thing is done, and this is as good as we can hope.'
'Far better!' said Margaret. 'What pleasure it must have given him! Dear Harry could not sail under more favourable circumstances.'
'No, I would trust to Ernescliffe as I would to Richard. It is kindly done, and I will thank him at once. Where does he date from?'
'From Portsmouth. He does not say whether he has seen Harry.'
'I suppose he waited for my answer. Suppose I enclose a note for him to give to Harry. There will be rapture enough, and it is a pity he should not have the benefit of it.'
The doctor sat down to write, while Margaret worked and mused, perhaps on outfits and new shirts--perhaps on Harry's lion-locks, beneath a blue cap and gold band, or, perchance, on the coral shoals of the Pacific.
It was one of the quiet afternoons, when all the rest were out, and which the doctor and his daughter especially valued, when they were able to spend one together without interruption. Soon, however, a ring at the door brought an impatient exclamation from the doctor; but his smile beamed out at the words, 'Miss Rivers.' They were great friends; in fact, on terms of some mutual sauciness, though Meta was, as yet, far less at home with his daughters, and came in, looking somewhat shy.
'Ah, your congeners are gone out!' was the doctor's reception. 'You must put up with our sober selves.'
'Is Flora gone far?' asked Meta.
'To Cocksmoor,' said Margaret. 'I am very sorry she has missed you.'
'Shall I be in your way?' said Meta timidly. 'Papa has several things to do, and said he would call for me here.'
'Good luck for Margaret,' said Dr. May.
'So they are gone to Cocksmoor!' said Meta. 'How I envy them!'
'You would not if you saw the place,' said Dr. May. 'I believe Norman is very angry with me for letting them go near it.'
'Ah! but they are of real use there!'
'And Miss Meta is obliged to take to envying the black-hole of Cocksmoor, instead of being content with the eglantine bowers of Abbotstoke! I commiserate her!' said the doctor.
'If I did any good instead of harm at Abbotstoke!'
'Harm!' exclaimed Margaret.
'They went on very well without me,' said Meta; 'but ever since I have had the class they have been getting naughtier and noisier every Sunday; and, last Sunday, the prettiest of all--the one I liked best, and had done everything for--she began to mimic me--held up her finger, as I did, and made them all laugh!'
'Well, that is very bad!' said Margaret; 'but I suppose she was a very little one.'
'No, a quick clever one, who knew much better, about nine years old. She used to be always at home in the week, dragging about a great baby; and we managed that her mother should afford to stay at home and send her to school. It seemed such a pity her cleverness should be wasted.'
The doctor smiled. 'Ah! depend upon it, the tyrant-baby was the best disciplinarian.'
Meta looked extremely puzzled.
'Papa means,' said Margaret, 'that if she was inclined to be conceited, the being teased at home might do her more good than being brought forward at school.'
'I have done everything wrong, it seems,' said Meta, with a shade of what the French call depit. 'I thought it must be right and good-- but it has only done mischief; and now papa says they are an ungrateful set, and that, if it vexes me, I had better have no more to do with them!'
'It does not vex you so much as that, I hope,' said Margaret.
'Oh, I could not bear that!' said Meta; 'but it is so different from what I thought!'
'Ah! you had an Arcadia of good little girls in straw hats, such as I see in Blanche's little books,' said the doctor, 'all making the young lady an oracle, and doing wrong--if they do it at all--in the simplest way, just for an example to the others.'
'Dr. May! How can you know so well? But do you really think it is their fault, or mine?'
'Do you think me a conjurer?'
'Well, but what do you think?'
'What do Mr. and Mrs. Charles Wilmot think?'
'I know Mrs. Wilmot thinks I spoil my class. She spoke to me about making favourites, and sometimes has seemed surprised at things which I have done. Last Sunday she told me she thought I had better have a steadier class, and I know whom she will give me--the great big, stupid ones, at the bottom of the first class! I do believe it is only out of good-nature that she does not tell me not to teach at all. I have a great mind I will not; I know I do nothing but harm.'
'What shall you say if I tell you I think so too?' asked the doctor.
'Oh, Dr. May, you don't really? Now, does he, Miss May? I am sure I only want to do them good. I don't know what I can have done.'
Margaret made her perceive that the doctor was smiling, and she changed her tone, and earnestly begged to be told what they thought of the case; for if she should show her concern at home, her father and governess would immediately beg her to cease from all connection with the school, and she did not feel at all convinced that Mrs. Wilmot liked to have her there. Feeling injured by the implied accusation of mismanagement, yet, with a sense of its truth, used to be petted, and new to rebuffs, yet with a sincere wish to act rightly, she was much perplexed by this, her first reverse, and had come partly with the view of consulting Flora, though she had fallen on other counsellors.
'Margaret, our adviser general,' said the doctor, 'what do you say? Put yourself in the place of Mrs. Charles Wilmot, and say, shall Miss Rivers teach or not?'
'I had rather you would, papa.'
'Not I--I never kept school.'
'Well, then, I being Mrs. Wilmot, should certainly be mortified if Miss Rivers deserted me because the children were naughty. I think, I think I had rather she came and asked me what she had better do.'
'And you would answer 'teach,' for fear of vexing her,' said Meta.
'I should, and also for the sake of letting her learn to teach.'
'The point where only trial shows one's ignorance,' said Dr. May.
'But I don't want to do it for my own sake,' said Meta. 'I do everything for my own sake already.'
'For theirs, then,' said the doctor. 'If teaching will not come by nature, you must serve an apprenticeship, if you mean to be of service in that line. Perhaps it was the gift that the fairies omitted.'
'But will it do any good to them?'
'I can't tell; but I am sure it would do them harm for you to give it up, because it is disagreeable.'
'Well,' said Meta, with a sigh, 'I'll go and talk to Mrs. Wilmot. I could not bear to give up anything that seems
