CHAPTER II
But there was one person to whom Rosalind Mackenzie poured out all thatwas in her mind,--that was her ten-year-old sister, Nannie. In Nannieshe found a ready and a sympathetic listener; moreover, in Nannie's mindthere was no doubt, no hesitation in believing that if Rosalind only hadthat twenty pounds there would be nothing to keep her back, nothing toprevent her sailing on right ahead into the roseate realms of fame andglory! If only she had that twenty pounds!
Now Nannie undoubtedly had a very gay and jovial disposition. She wasalways ready for fun and excitement, and had no tendency or any desireto carve out a line for herself, as her brother and sister had both hadbefore they had reached her age. Yet she had what was better in manypeople's eyes, a very tender heart and a very affectionate nature; andher tender heart was wrung and wrung again at the thought of hersister's unsatisfied longings and the great future that was beingblighted, all for the want of twenty pounds.
Yet what could a little girl of ten years old do towards getting such asum as that together? Just nothing! Why, if the sum was shillingsinstead of pounds, she would still find it utterly beyond her power andout of her grasp! She thought and she thought, but thinking did nothelp matters! She lay awake at night puzzling her little brain, butthat did no good, and Nannie's face grew a good deal paler, and set hermother wondering if the house was unhealthy, or thinking that perhapsthe air from the river was damp and injurious.
It was about this time that Yum-Yum, the pug which had been given toNannie by one of her mother's friends two years before, suddenly becamethe person of the most importance in the household at Putney; for beholdone fine morning when Nannie came down to breakfast, Yum-Yum presentedher with three babies, three dear wee pugs, which sent Nannie intoecstasies and made her forget for a few days all about Rosalind'sunsatisfied longings, and her craving after higher things than atpresent were attainable to her.
"You think they're real beauties, don't you, Father?" said Nannieanxiously.
"Yes, they are great beauties," said Mr. Mackenzie, holding one littlesnub-nosed pug up and examining it closely.
"And what should you think that they are worth, Father?" Nannie asked.
"Worth? Oh! that would depend a good deal on how they turn out. Theirpedigree is a very fair one; and at the end of six weeks or two monthsthey might be worth three or four guineas apiece--more, for thatmatter."
Nannie fairly gasped, and she clutched hold of her father's arm. "Oh!daddy dear," she exclaimed, "do you really, really think I might be ableto get _any_ thing like that for them?"
"Oh! yes, I think so," he answered, smiling at her earnestness. "But,Nannie, why do you want this money so much? Have you set your mind on awatch and chain?"
"Oh! no, dear daddy," she answered eagerly, "it's not for myself at all;it's poor Rosalind I'm thinking of"--and forthwith she poured into herfather's surprised but sympathetic ear all the story of Rosalind'sartistic longings, her craving for better art-lessons, for all the goodthings that may be had for the sum of twenty pounds.
Long before the story came to an end Mr. Mackenzie had drawn his littledaughter very closely to him, and I fancy he was thinking, when she cameto the end of it, more of the goodness of his Nannie's heart than of thegreatness of Rosalind's future.
"My Nannie," he said tenderly, "my generous, kind-hearted little woman!Rosalind ought to love you dearly for----"
"Rosalind does love me dearly, daddy," Nannie explained; "only she can'thelp wanting to be a painter--it's in her, you know, and it's chokingher. And Rosalind doesn't know a word about it. She wouldn't want me tosell Yummy's pups for her. Only you know, daddy, we can't keep threedogs besides Yummy; and we may just as well sell them as give them away,and then Rosalind would be able to have _some_ of the lessons that shewants so badly."
Mr. Mackenzie smiled at Nannie's voluble information. "Well, well, youshall sell the pups and make Rosalind happy," he said; then after amoment added, "You know, Nannie, that I am not rich--in fact, I am verypoor, but I will make the sum up to ten pounds, and Rosalind can go onthus far, at all events."
Well, a few weeks passed over, and the secret was rigidly kept betweenMr. Mackenzie and Nannie. More than once Mrs. Mackenzie grumbled at theexpense and the trouble Yummy's three babies were in the kitchen, andone afternoon when she came in from Town, she said--"Oh, Nannie, LadyGray would like to have one of Yummy's puppies. I told her I thoughtyou would let her have first choice."
"Then her ladyship must pay five guineas for it, my dear," said Mr.Mackenzie promptly. "Nannie and I are going to sell the puppies thistime."
Mrs. Mackenzie rather lifted her eyebrows. "Oh! if that is so," shesaid, "of course Lady Gray must stand on one side. But what are yougoing to do with the money, Nannie? Buy yourself a watch?"
"No, Mother, but----" and Nannie looked anxiously at her father, whoquickly came to the rescue, and evaded the question--which at thatmoment was an awkward one, for Rosalind was present.
It is probable that Mr. Mackenzie gave his wife just a hint of what wasa-foot, for she asked no more questions about the puppies, and made nofurther complaints of the extra food and milk which Yummy required atthis time.
And in due course, after a good deal of correspondence through thecolumns of the _Queen_ and the _Exchange and Mart_, one by one the threelittle pugs went away from the house at Putney to homes of their own,and Nannie in return became the proud possessor of no fewer than eightgolden sovereigns.
To these Mr. Mackenzie added the two which he had promised to make upthe sum of ten pounds, and then Nannie had the supreme joy of going toRosalind--who was hard at work in her studio painting a sunset in tintsso startling that her artist soul was sick within her--and flinging heroffering in a shower into her lap.
"Why, what is this, Nannie?" Rosalind cried, half frightened.
"It's your lessons, Rosie," Nannie cried, "or at least as much of themas you can get for ten pounds; and I'm so glad, dear, dear Rosie, to beable to help you, you don't know," and happy Nannie flung her arms roundher sister, almost crying for joy.
"But where did you get it? Oh, the pugs! I forgot them," Rosalindcried. "Oh! but Nannie, my dear, darling, unselfish sister, I can'ttake your money in this way----"
"You must," Nannie answered promptly.
"But your watch--you've longed so for a watch, you know," said the eldergirl.
"Well, I have, but I can long a bit more," returned Nanniephilosophically. "I shall like it all the better when I do get it."
"I _can't_ take it, darling," Rosalind urged.
"Oh! yes, you can, if you try," continued Nannie. "And as for my watch,why, when you are a great swell painter you can buy me one--a realbeauty--and I shall like it _ever_ so much better than any other one inall the world."
Rosalind clasped Nannie close to her heart.
"My Nannie, my Nannie," she cried, "I shall never be as brave andhelpful as you are. While I have been grumbling, and growling, andrailing at fate, you have been putting your shoulder to the wheel,and----. Oh! Nannie, Nannie, it is good of you! It is good! I shallnever forget it. The first penny I earn, dear, shall be yours; and Iwill never forget what my dear little sister has done for me,never--never, as long as I live."
A few days after this Rosalind was hard at work in the studio of theartist for whose teaching she had longed for so many weary months. Andhow she did work!
"I have one pupil who _works_," her maestro got into the habit ofsaying. "Some of you have a natural gift; you have a correct eye, andyou have firm touch. Every one of you might make progress if you tried.But there is only one of you all who works. That is Miss Mackenzie."
But, all too soon, Rosalind's ten pounds melted away, until they had allgone. And, as there was no more where they had come from, Rosalind'slessons must also come to an end!
"Oh! Mother, can't you do _any_thing to help Rosie?" Nannie cried inpiteously beseeching accents the night before Rosalind was to go to thestudio for the last time.
/> "Nannie," answered Mrs. Mackenzie reproachfully, "don't you think Iwould if I could?"
"Daddy, can you do nothing?" Nannie implored.
"My little one, I am so poor just now," he answered.
So poor Nannie went to bed in bitter disappointment for her sister'strial. She felt that it was very, very hard upon Rosalind, who hadworked almost day and night that she might profit by every moment of thetime she was at the studio. Yes, it was very, very hard.
However, Rosalind was brave, and put a good face upon the matter.
"Don't worry about it, my Nannie," she said just before she got intobed. "After all, I've learnt a great deal while I have been able to goto Mr. Raymond, and perhaps, after a time, daddy may be able to help meto go again, and I may do some work that will sell, and then I shall beable to go again. So don't worry yourself, my darling, for you can'thelp me this time. You see, Yummy hasn't got any more pups to sell."
But Nannie had got an idea, and all through the hours of that long nightit stayed with her with the pertinacity of a nightmare. Still, whateverit was, she did not say a word about it to Rosalind, and when Rosalindlooked round for her when she was ready to start for the studio in themorning, she was nowhere to be seen.
"Where is Nannie?" she asked.
"Oh! she's out in the garden," Mrs. Mackenzie answered.
"Well, I haven't time to go down; but don't let her worry about me, willyou, Mother?" said Rosalind anxiously.
"No, no; I will look after her," Mrs. Mackenzie answered vaguely.
So Rosalind went off fairly satisfied.
"I have come for my last lesson, Mr. Raymond," she said, with rather anuncertain smile, as she bade the maestro good-morning.
"Oh! well, well; we must have a talk about that," he answeredgood-naturedly.
Rosalind shook her head a little sadly, and took her place withoutdelay--to her every moment was precious.
But, though this was her last lesson, she was not destined to do muchwork that day, for, as soon as she opened her little paint-box, whichshe had taken home the previous day that she might do some work in theearly morning, she saw lying on the top of the paints a little note,addressed in Nannie's round child's hand to "Rosalind."
The next moment maestro and pupils were alike startled by the sight ofRosalind Mackenzie with her face hidden in her hands, sobbing as if herheart would break.
"My dear child," cried the maestro, running to her side, "how now! Whatis the matter? Pray tell me, my dear, tell me."
"'My dear child, what is the matter?'"]
Then little by little Rosalind sobbed out the whole story--how she hadlonged and pined for these lessons, how her little sister Nannie hadsacrificed herself to help her, and then at last she put into themaestro's hand the little note which she had brought from home in thepaint-box.
"Darling Rosalind," the maestro read aloud, "I thought of a way to helpyou last night, but I did not tell you about it, because I know youwould stop it. You know that Mrs. Clarke, who bought Yummy's littleson, said she would give ten guineas for her any day, so I'm going toget Father to take her there this afternoon, and you shall have themoney. I don't think I shall mind parting with her much.--NANNIE."
Mr. Raymond took off his glasses and wiped them.
"Upon my word," he muttered in an uncertain voice; "upon my word!"
"The darling!" cried one pupil.
"Is she fond of the dog?" asked another.
"Fond of her!" Rosalind echoed; "why, Yummy is the very idol of herheart. She has had her from a puppy; it would break the child's heartto part with her. Why, I would die," she said passionately, "before Iwould let her do it. I would go out as a charwoman, and scrub floorsfor my living all the days of my life, rather than do such a mean thing.Mr. Raymond," she went on, "I must go back at once, or I may be toolate. I must lose my lesson--I can't help that. But I must goback--for, look at the poor little letter; all tears and----" and thereRosalind broke down into tears and sobs again; but, all the same, shegathered her brushes together, and began to pack up all her belongings.
The maestro stood for a moment in deep thought, but, as Rosalind put herhat on and resolutely dried her eyes, he spoke to the others who werestanding around.
"I should very much like to see this out," he said, "and, if you willset me free this morning, I will give you each an extra lesson to makeup for the interrupted one to-day. What do you say?"
"Yes! yes!" they all cried.
So the old painter and Rosalind went back to the house at Putneytogether, and at the door Rosalind put an eager question to the maid whoopened it for them.
"My mother?" she asked.
"Mrs. Mackenzie is dressing to go out, Miss Rosalind," the maidanswered.
"And Miss Nannie?"
"I believe Miss Nannie is in the garden," was the reply.
So Rosalind led the maestro out into the garden, where they soon espiedNannie curled up in a big chair, with Yummy in her arms. She did notnotice their approach; indeed, she was almost asleep, worn out by theviolence of her grief at the coming parting with Yummy, and was lyingwith her eyes closed, her cheek resting against the dog's satin-smoothhead.
Rosalind flung herself down upon her knees before the chair, and tookchild and dog into her arms.
"My own precious little sister, my unselfish darling," she cried; "as ifI would let you part with the dear doggy for my sake! I couldn't,Nannie, my dear, I couldn't--I couldn't part with Yummy myself. But Ishall never forget it, Nannie--my dear, unselfish Nannie."
"My own precious little sister, my unselfish darling,"she cried.]
Nannie looked past her sister towards the tall old painter standingbehind her.
"Your lessons," she faltered, with quivering lips.
"My little heroine," said the old painter tenderly, "your sister is myfavourite among all my pupils. I would rather," he went on, laying hishand on Rosalind's shoulder--"I would rather teach one real worker suchas she is for love, than fifty of the usual kind who come to me. She isjust the real worker one might expect with such a sister."
"You will go on teaching Rosalind," Nannie cried in a bewildered way,"for nothing?"
"I will, gladly," the maestro answered; "and, in return, you shall comeone day, and bring the pug, and let me paint a picture of you both."
And then the old man went away, leaving the sisters, in the fulness oftheir joy, together.
For him this had been somewhat of a new experience--a pleasant one.They were young, and he was old; but he went back to his pictures with aheart fresh and young as it had not been for years, asking of himself aquestion out of the pages of a favourite poet: "Shall I thank God forthe green summer, and the mild air, and the flowers, and the stars, andall that makes the world so beautiful, and not for the good andbeautiful beings I have known in it?"