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Hopes and Fears or, scenes from the life of a spinster. Yonge Charlotte Mary
Читать онлайн.Название Hopes and Fears or, scenes from the life of a spinster
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Автор произведения Yonge Charlotte Mary
Жанр Европейская старинная литература
Издательство Public Domain
Phœbe wondered that her friend paused and looked so sad.
‘Oh! Phœbe,’ said Honora, after a moment’s silence, speaking fervently, ‘if you can in any way do so, warn your brother against making an idol! Let nothing come between him and the direct devotion of will and affection to the Higher Service. If he decide on the one or the other, let it be from duty, not with respect to anything else. I do not suppose it is of any use to warn him,’ she added, with the tears in her eyes. ‘Every one sets the whole soul upon some one object, not the right, and then comes the shipwreck.’
‘Dear Robin!’ said Phœbe. ‘He is so good! I am sure he always thinks first of what is right. But I think I see what you mean. If he undertake the business, it should be as a matter of obedience to papa, not to keep Lucy in the great world. And, indeed, I do not think my father does care much, only he would like the additional capital; and Robert is so much more steady than Mervyn, that he would be more useful. Perhaps it would make him more important at home; no one there has any interest in common with him; and I think that moves him a little; but, after all, those do not seem reasons for not giving himself to God’s service,’ she finished, reverently and considerately.
‘No, indeed!’ cried Miss Charlecote.
‘Then you think he ought not to change his mind?’
‘You have thought so all along,’ smiled Honor.
‘I did not like it,’ said Phœbe, ‘but I did not know if I were right. I did tell him that I really believed Lucy would think the more highly of him if he settled for himself without reference to her.’
‘You did! You were a capital little adviser, Phœbe! A woman worthy to be loved at all had always rather be set second instead of first:—
“I could not love thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more.”
That is the true spirit, and I am glad you judged Lucy to be capable of it. Keep your brother up to that, and all may be well!’
‘I believe Robert knows it all the time,’ said Phœbe. ‘He always is right at the bottom; but his feelings get so much tried that he does not know how to bear it! I hope Lucy will be kind to him if they meet in London, for he has been so much harassed that he wants some comfort from her. If she would only be in earnest!’
‘Does he go to London, at all events?’
‘He has promised to attend to the office in Great Whittington-street for a month, by way of experiment.’
‘I’ll tell you what, Phœbe,’ cried Honora, radiantly, ‘you and I will go too! You shall come with me to Woolstone-lane, and Robin shall be with us every day; and we will try and make this silly Lucy into a rational being.’
‘Oh! Miss Charlecote, thank you—thank you.’ The quiet girl’s face and neck were all one crimson glow of delight.
‘If you can sleep in a little brown cupboard of a room in the very core of the City’s heart.’
‘Delightful! I have so wished to see that house. Owen has told me such things about it. Oh, thank you, Miss Charlecote!’
‘Have you ever seen anything in London?’
‘Never. We hardly ever go with the rest; and if we do, we only walk in the square. What a holiday it will be!’
‘We will see everything, and do it justice. I’ll get an order for the print-room at the British Museum. I day say Robin never saw it either; and what a treat it will be to take you to the Egyptian Gallery!’ cried Honora, excited into looking at the expedition in the light of a party of pleasure, as she saw happiness beaming in the young face opposite.
They built up their schemes in the open window, pausing to listen to the nightingales, who, having ceased for two hours, apparently for supper, were now in full song, echoing each other in all the woods of Hiltonbury, casting over it a network of sweet melody. Honora was inclined to regret leaving them in their glory; but Phœbe, with the world before her, was too honest to profess poetry which she did not feel. Nightingales were all very well in their place, but the first real sight of London was more.
The lamp came in, and Phœbe held out her hands for something to do, and was instantly provided with a child’s frock, while Miss Charlecote read to her one of Fouqué’s shorter tales by way of supplying the element of chivalrous imagination which was wanting in the Beauchamp system of education.
So warm was the evening, that the window remained open, until Ponto erected his crest as a footfall came steadily along, nearer and nearer. Uplifting one of his pendant lips, he gave a low growl through his blunted teeth, and listened again; but apparently satisfied that the step was familiar, he replaced his head on his crossed paws, and presently Robert Fulmort’s head and the upper part of his person, in correct evening costume, were thrust in at the window, the moonlight making his face look very white, as he said, ‘Come, Phœbe, make haste; it is very late.’
‘Is it?’ cried Phœbe, springing up; ‘I thought I had only been here an hour.’
‘Three, at least,’ said Robert, yawning; ‘six by my feelings. I could not get away, for Mr. Crabbe stayed to dinner; Mervyn absented himself, and my father went to sleep.’
‘Robin, only think, Miss Charlecote is so kind as to say she will take me to London!’
‘It is very kind,’ said Robert, warmly, his weary face and voice suddenly relieved.
‘I shall be delighted to have a companion,’ said Honora; ‘and I reckon upon you too, Robin, whenever you can spare time from your work. Come in, and let us talk it over.’
‘Thank you, I can’t. The dragon will fall on Phœbe if I keep her out too late. Be quick, Phœbe.’
While his sister went to fetch her hat, he put his elbows on the sill, and leaning into the room, said, ‘Thank you again; it will be a wonderful treat to her, and she has never had one in her life!’
‘I was in hopes she would have gone to Germany.’
‘It is perfectly abominable! It is all the others’ doing! They know no one would look at them a second time if anything so much younger and pleasanter was by! They think her coming out would make them look older. I know it would make them look crosser.’
Laughing was the only way to treat this tirade, knowing, as Honor did, that there was but too much truth in it. She said, however, ‘Yet one could hardly wish Phœbe other than she is. The rosebud keeps its charm longer in the shade.’
‘I like justice,’ quoth Robert.
‘And,’ she continued, ‘I really think that she is much benefited by this formidable governess. Accuracy and solidity and clearness of head are worth cultivating.’
‘Nasty latitudinarian piece of machinery,’ said Robert, with his fingers over his mouth, like a sulky child.
‘Maybe so; but you guard Phœbe, and she guards Bertha; and whatever your sense of injustice may be, this surely is a better school for her than gaieties as yet.’
‘It will be a more intolerable shame than ever if they will not let her go with you.’
‘Too intolerable to be expected,’ smiled Honora. ‘I shall come and beg for her to-morrow, and I do not believe I shall be disappointed.’
She spoke with the security of one not in the habit of having her patronage obstructed by relations; and Phœbe coming down with renewed thanks, the brother and sister started on their way home in the moonlight—the one plodding on moodily, the other, unable to repress her glee, bounding on in a succession of little skips, and pirouetting round to clap her hands, and exclaim, ‘Oh! Robin, is it not delightful?’
‘If