The Pillars of the House, V1 Read online

  'Then, said Edgar, 'you can disown the old rogue Chester.'

  'What stuff!' interposed Clement.

  'I'd cut him out of my will on the spot,' persisted Edgar.

  'But it is all right,' said Cherry, looking with quiet certainty into her brother's face; and he nodded and coloured at the same time.

  'But it is not a pretty one,' said little Robina. 'Last year it was green, and before that red; and this is nasty stupid black and white, and all thin crackling paper.'

  Felix laughed, and held up the document.

  'What!' cried Fulbert. 'Five! Why, 'tisn't only five shillings! the horrid old cheat!'

  'It's a five-pound note!' screamed Cherry. 'I saw one when Papa went to the bank! O Felix, Felix!'

  A five-pound note! It seemed to take away the breath of those who knew what it meant, and then an exulting shout broke forth.

  'Well,' said Edgar solemnly, 'old Chester is a brick! Three cheers for him!'

  Which cheers having been perpetrated with due vociferation, the cry began, 'O Felix, what will you do with it?'

  'Buy a pony!' cried Fulbert.

  'A rocking-horse,' chirped Robina.

  'Punch every week,' shouted Lance.

  'A knife apiece,' said Fulbert.

  'How can you all be so selfish?' pronounced Clement. 'Now a harmonium would be good to us all.'

  'Then get some cotton, for our ears into the bargain, if Tina is to play on it,' said Edgar.

  'I shall take the note to mother,' said the owner.

  'Oh!' screamed all but Wilmet and Cherry, 'that's as bad as not having it at all!'

  Maybe Felix thought so, for it was with a certain gravity and solemnity of demeanour that he entered the drawing-room, causing his father to exclaim, 'How now? No slip between cup and lip? Not infelix, Felix?'

  'No, papa, but it's this and I thought I ought to bring it.'

  The dew at once was in the mother's eyes, as she sprang up and kissed the boy's brow, saying, 'Felix, dear, don't show it to me. You were meant to be happy with it. Go and be so.'

  'Stay,' said Mr. Underwood, Felix will really enjoy helping us to this extent more than any private expenditure. Is it not so, my boy? Well then, I propose that the sovereign of old prescriptive right should go to his menus plaisirs, and the rest to something needful; but he shall say to what. Said I well, old fellow?'

  'Oh, thank you, thank you!' cried Felix ardently.

  'Thank me for permission to do as you will with your own?' smiled Mr. Underwood.

  'You will choose, then, Felix?' said his mother wistfully, her desires divided between port wine for papa and pale ale for Geraldine.

  'Yes, mamma,' was the prompt answer. 'Then, please, let Wilmet and Alda be rigged out fresh for Sundays.'

  'Wilmet and Alda!' exclaimed Mamma.

  'Yes, I should like that better than anything, please,' said the boy. 'All our fellows say they would be the prettiest girls in all Bexley, if they were properly dressed; and those horrid girls at Miss Pearson's lead them a life about those old black hats.'

  'Poor dears! I have found Alda crying when she was dressing for church,' mused Mrs. Underwood; 'and though I have scolded her, I could have cried too, to think how unlike their girlhood is to mine.'

  'And if you went to fetch them home from school, you would know how bad it is, Mamma,' said Felix. 'Wilmet does not mind it, but Alda cries, and the sneaking girls do it the more; and they are girls; so one can't lick them; and they have not all got brothers.'

  'To be licked instead!' said Mr. Underwood, unable to help being amused.

  'Well, yes, Papa; and so you see it would be no end of a comfort to make them look like the rest.'

  'By all means, Felix. The ladies can tell how far your benefaction will go; but as far as it can accomplish, the twins shall be resplendent. Now then, back to your anxious clients. Only tell me first how my kind old friend the Admiral is.'

  'Here's his letter, Father; I quite forgot to read it.'

  'Some day, I hope, you will know him enough to care for him personally. Now you may be off.-Nay, Enid, love, your daughters could not have lived much longer without clothes to their backs.'

  'Oh, yes, it must have been done,' sighed the poor mother; 'but I fancied Felix would have thought of you first.'

  'He thought of troubles much more felt than any of mine. Poor children! the hard apprenticeship will serve them all their lives.'

  Meantime Felix returned with the words, 'Hurrah! we are to have the sovereign just as usual; and all the rest is to go to turn out Wilmet and Alda like respectable young females.-Hollo, now!'

  For Alda had precipitated herself downstairs, to throttle him with her embraces; while Cherry cried out, 'That's right! Oh, do get those dear white hats you told me about;' but the public, even there a many-headed monster thing, was less content.

  'What, all in girls' trumpery?' 'That's the stupidest sell I ever heard of!' 'Oh, I did so want a pony!' were the cries of the boys.

  Even Robina was so far infected as to cry, 'I wanted a ride.'

  And Wilmet reproachfully exclaimed, 'O Felix, you should have got something for Papa. Don't you know, Mr. Rugg said he ought to have a respirator. It is a great shame.'

  'I don't think he would have let me, Wilmet,' said Felix, looking up; 'and I never thought of it. Besides, I can't have those girls making asses of themselves at you.'

  'Oh no, don't listen to Wilmet!' cried Alda. 'You are the very best brother in all the world! Now we shall be fit to be seen at the break up. I don't think I could have played my piece if I knew every one was looking at my horrid old alpaca.'

  'And there'll be hats for Cherry and Bobbie too!' entreated Wilmet.

  'Oh, don't put it into their heads!' gasped Alda.

  'No, I'll have you two fit to be seen first, said Felix.

  'Well, it's a horrid shame,' grumbled Fulbert; 'we have always all gone shares in Felix's Birthday tip.'

  'So you do now,' said Felix; 'there's the pound all the same as usual.'

  That pound was always being spent in imagination; and the voices broke out again.

  'Oh, then Papa can have the respirator!'

  'Felix, the rocking-horse!'

  'Felix, do get us three little cannon to make a jolly row every birthday!'

  'Felix, do you know that Charlie Froggatt says he would sell that big Newfoundland for a pound? and that would be among us all.'

  'Nonsense, Fulbert! a big dog is always eating; but there is a concertina at Lake's.'

  'Tina-tina-concertina! But, I say, Fee, there's Whiteheart been wishing her heart out all the time for a real good paint-box.'

  'Oh, never mind that, Ed; no one would care for one but you and me, and the little ones would spoil all the paints.'

  'Yes, resumed Wilmet, from her throne,-'it would be the worry of one's life to keep the little ones off them; and baby would be poisoned to a dead certainty. Now the respirator-'

  'Now the concertina-'

  'Now Punch-'

  'Now the dog-'

  'Now the rocking-horse-'

  'Now the cannon-'

  'I'll tell you what,' said Felix, 'I've settled how it is to be. We'll get John Harper's van, and all go out to the Castle, with a jolly cold dinner-yes, you, Cherry, and all; Ed and I will carry you-and dine on the grass, and-'

  A chorus of shouts interrupted him, all ecstatic, and rendered more emphatic by the stamping of feet.

  'And Angela will go!' added. Wilmet.

  'And Papa,' entreated Cherry.

  'And Mamma too, if she will,' said Felix.

  'And Mr. Audley,' pronounced Robina, echoed by Clement and Angela. 'Mr. Audley must go!'

  'Mr. Audley!' grunted Felix. 'I want nobody but ourselves.'

  'Yes, and if he went we could not stay jolly late. My Lady would make no end of a row if both curates cut the evening prayers.'

  'For shame, Edgar!' cried the three elder girls.

  While Wilmet added, 'We could not stay late, because
of Papa and the little ones. But I don't want Mr. Audley, either.'

  'No, no! Papa and he will talk to each other, and be of no use,' said Geraldine. 'Oh, how delicious! Will the wild-roses be out? When shall it be, Felix?'

  'Well, the first fine day after school breaks up, I should say.'

  'Hurrah! hurrah!'

  And there was another dance, in the midst of which Mr. Underwood opened the door, to ask what honourable member was receiving such deafening cheers.

  'Here! here he is, Papa!' cried Alda. 'He is going to take us all out to a picnic in the Castle woods; and won't you come, Papa?'

  'O Papa, you will come!' said Felix. And the whole staircase bawled in accordance.

  'Come! to be sure I will!' said his father; 'and only too glad to be asked! I trust we shall prove to have found the way to get the maximum of pleasure out of Admiral Chester's gift.'

  'If Mamma will go,' said Felix. 'I wonder what the van will cost, and what will be left for the dinner.'

  'Oh, let us two cook the whole dinner,' entreated the twins.

  'Wait now,' said Felix. 'I didn't know it was so late, Father.' And he carefully helped his father on with his coat; and as a church bell made itself heard, set forth with him.

  When the service was musical, Felix and his two next brothers both formed part of the choir; and though this was not the case on this evening, Felix knew that his mother was easier when he or Wilmet could watch over Papa's wraps.

  And Mamma herself, with one at least of the twins, was busy enough in giving the lesser ones their supper, and disposing of them in bed, so that the discreet alone might remain to the later tea-drinking.

  And 'Sibby' must be made a sharer of the good news in her lower region, though she was sure to disbelieve in Alda and Wilmet's amateur cookery.

  Sibby was Wilmet's foster-mother. Poor thing! Mr. Underwood had found her in dire need in the workhouse, a child herself of seventeen with a new-born babe, fresh from the discovery that the soldier-husband, as she thought, and who had at least gone before the praste with her,' and brought her from her Kilkenny home, was previously husband to another woman. She was tenderly cared for by Mr. Underwood's mother, who was then alive, and keeping house for the whole party at the Rectory; and having come into the Vale Leston nursery, she never left it. Her own child died in teething, and she clung so passionately to her nursling, that Mrs. Underwood had no heart to separate them, Roman Catholic though she was, and difficult to dispose of. She was not the usual talking merry Irishwoman; if ever she had been such, her heart was broken; and she was always meek, quiet, subdued, and attentive; forgetful sometimes, but tender and trustworthy to the last degree with the children.

  She had held fast to the family in their reverses, and no more thought of not sharing their lot than one of their children. Indeed, it would not have been much more possible to send her out to shift for herself in England; and her own people seemed to have vanished in the famine, for her letters, with her savings, came back from the dead-letter office. She put her shoulder to the burthen, and, with one small scrub under her, got through an amazing amount of work: and though her great deep liquid brown eyes looked as pathetic as ever, she certainly was in far better spirits than when she sat in the nursery. To be sure, she was a much better nurse than she was a cook; but as both could not be had, Mrs. Underwood was content and thankful to have a servant so entirely one with themselves in interests and affections; and who had the further perfection of never wanting any society but the children's; shrinking from English gossips, and never showing a weakness, save for Irish tramps. Moreover, she was a prodigious knitter; and it was her boast that not one of the six young gentlemen had yet worn stocking or sock, but what came from her needles, and had been re-footed by her to the last extremity of wear.

  Meantime, Felix and Clement walked with their father to the church. There it was, that handsome church; the evening sun in slanting beams coming through the gorgeous west window to the illuminated walls, and the rich inlaid marble and alabaster of the chancel mellowed by the pure evening light. The east window, done before glass-painting had improved, was tame and ill-executed, and there was, even aesthetically, a strange unsatisfactory feeling in looking at the heavy, though handsome, incrustations and arcades of dark marble that formed the reredos. It was all very correct; but it wanted life.

  Mr. Bevan was not there, he had gone out to dinner, and the congregation consisted of some young ladies, old men, and three little children. Mr. Audley read all, save the Absolution and the Lessons; and the responses sounded low and feeble in the great church, though there was one voice among them glad and hearty in dedicating and entrusting the new year of his life with its unknown burthen.

  Felix had heard sayings and seen looks which, boldly as his sanguine spirit resisted them, would hang in a heavy boding cloud over his mind, and were already casting a grave shadow there.

  And if the thought of his fivefold gift swelled the fervour of his 'Amen' to the General Thanksgiving, there was another deep heartfelt Amen, which breathed forth earnest gratitude for the possession of such a first-born son.

  'That is a very good boy,' the father could not help saying to Mr. Audley, as, on quitting the churchyard, Felix exclaiming, 'Papa, may I just get it changed and ask about the van?' darted across the street, with Clement, into a large grocer's shop nearly opposite, where a brisk evening traffic was going on in the long daylight of hot July; and he could not but tell of the birthday-gift, and how it was to be spent. 'Res angusta domi,' he said, with a smile, 'is a thing to be thankful for, when it has such effects upon a lad.'

  'You must add a small taste of example to the prescription,' said Mr. Audley. 'Is this all the birthday present Felix has had?'

  'Well, I believe Cherry gave him one of her original designs; but birthdays are too numerous for us to stand presents.'

  The other curate half-sighed. He was a great contrast-a much smaller man than his senior, slight, slim, and pale, but with no look of ill-health about him, brown eyed and haired, and with the indefinable look about all his appointments and dress, that showed he had lived in unconscious luxury and refinement all his days. His thoughts went back to a home, where the only perplexity was how to deal with an absolute glut of presents, and to his own actual doubts what to send that youngest sister, who would feel slighted if Charlie sent nothing, but really could not want anything; a book she would not read, a jewel could seldom get a turn of being worn, a trinket would only be fresh lumber for her room. Then he revolved the possibilities of making Felix a present, without silencing his father's confidences, and felt that it could not be done in any direct manner at present; nay, that it could hardly add to the radiant happiness of the boy, who rushed across the road, almost under the nose of the railway-omnibus horses, and exclaimed-

  'He will let us have it for nothing, Father! He says it would be hiring it out, and he can't do that: but he would esteem it a great favour if we would go in it, and not pay anything, except just a shilling to Harris for a pint of beer. Won't it be jolly, Father?'

  'Spicy would be more appropriate,' said Mr. Underwood, laughing, as the vehicle in question drew up at the shop door, with Mr. Harper's name and all his groceries inscribed in gold letters upon the awning.

  'I'm so glad I thought of Harper's,' continued Felix. 'I asked him instead of Buff, because I knew Mamma would want it to be covered. Now there's lots of room; and we boys will walk up all the hills.'

  'I hope there is room for me, Felix,' suggested Mr. Audley.

  'Or,' suggested Mr. Underwood, 'you might, like John Gilpin, "ride on horseback after we."'

  'Felix looks non-content,' said Mr. Audley. 'I am afraid I was not in his programme. Speak out-let us have it.'

  'Why,' said Felix, looking down, 'our little ones all wanted to have you; but then we thought we should all be obliged to come home too soon, unless you took the service for Papa.'

  'He certainly ought not to go to church after it,' said Mr. Audley; 'but I can settle t
hat by riding home in good time. What's the day?'

  'The day after the girls' break-up, if you please,' said Felix, still not perfectly happy, but unable to help himself; and manifesting quite enough reluctance to make his father ask, as soon as they had parted, what made him so ungracious.

  'Only, Papa,' said Felix frankly, 'that we know that you and he will get into some Church talk, and then you'll be of no use; and we wanted to have it all to ourselves.'

  'Take care, Felix,' said Mr. Underwood; 'large families are apt to get into a state of savage exclusiveness.'

  Felix had to bear the drawback, and the groans it caused from Wilmet, Edgar, and Fulbert: the rest decidedly rejoiced. And Mr. Underwood privately confided the objection to his friend, observing merrily that they would bind themselves by a promise not to talk shop throughout the expedition.

  It was a brilliantly, happy week. Pretty hats, bound with dark blue velvet, and fresh black silk jackets, were squeezed out of the four pounds, with the help of a few shillings out of the intended hire of the van, and were the glory of the whole family, both of those who were to wear them and those who were not.

  On Saturday evening, just as the four elder young people were about to sally forth to do the marketing for their picnic, a great hamper made its appearance in the passage, addressed to F. C. Underwood, Esq., and with nothing to pay. Only there was a note fastened to the side, saying, 'Dear Felix, pray let the spicy van find room for my contribution to your picnic. I told my mother to send me what was proper from home.-C. S. A.'

  Mrs. Underwood was dragged out to superintend the unpacking, which she greatly advised should be merely a surface investigation. That was quite enough, however, to assure her that for Felix to lay in any provision, except the tea and the bread she had already promised, would be entirely superfluous. The girls were disappointed of their cookery; but derived consolation from the long walk with the brothers, in which a cake of good carmine and a lump of gamboge were purchased for Cherry, and two penny dolls for Robina and Angela. What would become of the rest of the pound?

  On Sunday, the offertory was, as usual on ordinary occasions, rather scanty; but there was one half-sovereign; and Mr. Underwood was convinced that it had come from under the one white surplice that had still remained on the choir boys' bench.