Charlotte Yonge - Beechcroft at Rockstone

Gillian’s studies were for three hours in the week at the High School, and on two afternoons she learnt from the old organist at Rockstone Church. She went and came alone, except when Miss Mohun happened to join her, and that was not often, ‘For,’ said that lady to her sister, ‘Gillian always looks as if she thought I was acting spy upon her. I wish I could get on with that girl; I begin to feel almost as poor Lily did with Dolores.’

‘She is a very good girl,’ said Miss Adeline.

‘So she is; and that makes it all the more trying to be treated like the Grand Inquisitor.’

‘Shall I speak to her? She is always as pleasant as possible with me.’

‘Oh no, don’t. It would only make it worse, and prevent you from having her confidence.’

‘Ah, Jane, I have often thought your one want was gentleness,’ said Miss Ada, with the gesture of her childhood—her head a little on one side. ‘And, besides, don’t you know what Reggie used to call your ferret look? Well, I suppose you can’t help it, but when you want to know a thing and are refraining from asking questions, you always have it more or less.’

‘Thank you, Ada. There’s nothing like brothers and sisters for telling one home-truths. I suppose it is the penalty of having been a regular Paul Pry in my childhood, in spite of poor Eleanor making me learn “Meddlesome Matty” as soon as I could speak. I always do and always shall have ringing in my ears—

‘Well, you know you always do know or find out everything about everybody, and it is very useful.’

‘Useful as a bloodhound is, eh?’

‘Oh no, not that, Jenny.’

‘As a ferret, or a terrier, perhaps. I suppose I cannot help that, though,’ she added, rather sadly. ‘I have tried hard to cure the slander and gossip that goes with curiosity. I am sorry it results in repulsion with that girl; but I suppose I can only go on and let her find out that my bark, or my eye, is worse than my bite.’

‘You are so good, so everything, Jenny,’ said Adeline, ‘that I am sure you will have her confidence in time, if only you won’t poke after it.’

Which made Miss Mohun laugh, though her heart was heavy, for she had looked forward to having a friend and companion in the young generation.

Gillian meantime went her way.

One morning, after her mathematical class was over, she was delayed for about ten minutes by the head mistress, to whom she had brought a message from her aunt, and thus did not come out at noon at the same time as the day scholars. On issuing into the street, where as yet there was hardly any traffic, except what was connected with the two schools, she perceived that a party of boys were besetting a little girl who was trying to turn down the cross road to Bellevue, barring her way, and executing a derisive war-dance around her, and when she, almost crying, made an attempt to dash by, pulling at her plaited tail, with derisive shouts, even Gillian’s call, ‘Boys, boys, how can you be so disgraceful!’ did not check them. One made a face and put his tongue out, while the biggest called out, ‘Thank you, teacher,’ and Gillian perceived to her horror, that they were no street boys, but Mrs. Edgar’s, and that Fergus was one of them. That he cried in dismay, ‘Don’t, Stebbing! It’s my sister,’ was no consolation, as she charged in among them, catching hold of her brother, as she said,

‘I could not believe that you could behave in such a disgraceful manner!’

All the other tormentors rushed away headlong, except Stebbing, who, in some compunction, said—

‘I beg your pardon, Miss Merrifield, I had no notion it was you.’

‘You are making it no better,’ said Gillian. ‘The gentlemen I am used to know how to behave properly to any woman or girl. My father would be very sorry that my brother has been thrown into such company.’

And she walked away with her head extremely high, having certainly given Master Stebbing a good lesson. Fergus ran after her. ‘Gill, Gill, you won’t tell.’

‘I don’t think I ever was more shocked in my life,’ returned Gillian.

‘But, Gill, she’s a nasty, stuck-up, conceited little ape, that Maura White, or whatever her ridiculous name is. They pretend her father was an officer, but he was really a bad cousin of old Mr. White’s that ran away; and her mother is not a lady—a great fat disgusting woman, half a nigger; and Mr. White let her brother and sister be in the marble works out of charity, because they have no father, and she hasn’t any business to be at the High School.’

‘White, did you say? Maura White!’ exclaimed Gillian. ‘Captain White dead! Oh, Fergus! it must be Captain White. He was in the dear old Royal Wardours, and papa thought so much of him! To think of your going and treating his daughter in that shocking way!’

‘It was what Stebbing said,’ gruffly answered Fergus.

‘If you let yourself be led by these horrid cads—’

‘He is no such thing! He is the crack bat of Edgar’s—’

‘A boy is a cad who can’t behave himself to a girl because she is poor. I really think the apology to me was the worst part or the matter. He only treats people well when he sees they can take care of themselves.’

‘I’ll tell him about Captain White,’ said Fergus, a little abashed.

‘Yes. And I will get the aunts to call on Mrs. White, and that may help them to a better level among these vulgar folk.’

‘But you won’t—’ said Fergus, with an expressive pause.

‘I won’t get you into trouble, for I think you are sorry you treated one of our own in such a manner.’

‘I wouldn’t, indeed, if I had known.’

‘I shall only explain that I have found out whom Maura belongs to. I should go and see them at once, only I must make Val find out where she lives.’

So Gillian returned home, communicating the intelligence with some excitement that she had discovered that Valetta’s schoolmate, Maura White, was none other than the daughter of her father’s old fellow-soldier, whose death shocked her greatly, and she requested to go and call on Mrs. White as soon as she could learn her abode.

However, it seemed to be impossible that any one should live in Rockstone unknown to Aunt Jane.

‘White?’ she said. ‘It can’t be the Whites down by Cliffside. No; there’s a father there, though he generally only comes down for Sunday.’

‘I am sure there are some Whites on the Library list,’ said Miss Ada.

‘Oh yes; but she washes! I know who they must be. I know in Bellevue there are some; but they go to the Kennel Church. Didn’t you come home, Ada, from that function you went to with Florence, raving about the handsome youth in the choir?’

‘Oh yes, we thought it such an uncommon, foreign face, and he looked quite inspired when he was singing his solo.’

‘Yes; I found out that his name was White, a clerk or something in the marble works, and that he had a mother and sister living at Bellevue. I did see the sister when I went to get the marble girls into the G.F.S., but she said something foolish about her mother not liking it.’

‘Yes; nobody under the St. Kenelm influence ever will come into the G.F.S.’

‘But what is she doing?’ asked Gillian. ‘Do you mean Kalliope?’

‘I suppose I do. I saw a rather nice-looking young woman in the department where they make Florentine mosaic, and I believe they said she was Miss White, but she cut me off very short with her mother, so I had no more to do with her.’

‘I am sure mamma would wish me to call on Mrs. White,’ said Gillian.

‘There’s no reason against it,’ said Aunt Jane. ‘I will go with you the first day I can.’