left the corners in shadow. It was easy for Claudia to slip inunperceived, for her aunt was not expecting her, and did not even raiseher eyes when the door opened, and the slight clatter that alwaysaccompanies cups and saucers announced the arrival of the tea.
"Tell Crossley to come in a few minutes to take Miss Meredon's teaup-stairs," said Lady Mildred, not knowing that the footman had alreadyleft the room, and that the movements she still heard were made byClaudia, safely ensconced behind the tray, and laughing quietly toherself. In another minute a voice close beside her made the old ladystart.
"Aunt Mildred," it said, "here is your tea."
"Claudia!" she exclaimed. "I thought you were up-stairs in your room."
"Selfishly writing my letter home! Oh, aunt! how could you think Iwould be so horrid! My letter will do very well to-morrow. I did notthink it was so near tea-time when I thoughtlessly spoke of it. Do youthink I don't enjoy making tea for you?--almost the only thing I can dofor you," said the girl with a kind of affectionate reproach.
Lady Mildred was silent for a few moments. Then she said again, with atone in her voice which was not often heard,--
"Claudia, you have the best of gifts--a sweet and sunny nature. Try tokeep it, my dear."
And Claudia felt rewarded.
She sat up in her own room that night for half-an-hour to write the homeletter.
"Mamma would forgive my doing so for once," she said to herself, "for Imay not have time to-morrow. If I am really to do well at school I mustwork hard, and it will not be easy to do so, and yet to please AuntMildred. But I don't mind how difficult it is--it will be worth it allto be able to help them at home without being separated. But oh, mamma,mamma! it is very hard to be away from you all!"
And Claudia leant her head on the table and burst into tears.
CHAPTER SIX.
CLAUDIA'S HOME.
The Rectory at Britton-Garnett was one of those picturesque,tempting-looking, old cottage-like houses which, seen in summer by apasser-by, embowered in greenery and roses, remain in the memory as asort of little earthly paradise. And its inhabitants, who loved it wellin spite of its imperfections, would have accepted the verdict withoutmuch protest.
"It is a sweet little place," Mrs Meredon would say, "and for richpeople it might really be made almost perfect. But with these oldhouses, you see, there seems always something that wants doing orrepairing. The roof is in a very bad state, and we are sometimes verymuch afraid that there is dry-rot in the old wainscoting."
But the roof had to be patched up, and the incipient dry-rot had to beleft to itself. Mr Meredon was far too poor to spend a shilling oreven a sixpence that he could possibly help; and as the house was hisown private property,--for what had been the Rectory was a very smallhouse in the village, quite out of the question as the abode of a largefamily,--there was no one to appeal to for necessary repairs, as isusually the case. The Rectory proper was, in point of fact, largeenough for the living, which was a very small one. Long ago now, whenthe Meredons first came there, shortly after their marriage, it had beenwith the idea that Britton-Garnett was but the stepping-stone to betterthings. But years had gone on without the better things coming, and nowfor some considerable time past the Rector had left off hoping that theyever would, or that he could be able conscientiously to accept themshould they do so. For a terrible misfortune had come over him,literally to darken his life. He had grown almost totally blind.
It had been softened to some extent by a very slow and gradual approach.The sufferer himself, and his wife and elder children, had had time toprepare for it, and to make their account with it. There was even now agood hope that, with great care and prudence, the glimmering of sightthat remained to him might be preserved; that the disease had, so tospeak, done its worst. But adieu to all prospects of a more activecareer, of the wide-spread usefulness and distinction Mr Meredon hadsometimes dreamt of, of "the better things," in the practical senseeven, that he had hoped for, when he and his light-hearted and talentedbut portionless young bride had, like so many thousands of others infact and fiction, "so very imprudently married." It was even harder insome ways than if the poor man had become completely blind, for thenthere would have been nothing more to fear, no use in precautions orcare.
"Sometimes I could wish it had been so," he once confessed to his wife."I don't know but that it would have been easier for you all."
"Easier for _you_, perhaps, dear Basil," said his wife. "But for us--ohno! Think what it would be for you not to know the children's faces asthey grow up, not to--"
"The loss would be mine in all that," interrupted Mr Meredon.
"But, papa dear, it would be _much_ more trouble for us if we had alwaysto trot about with you, if you couldn't go anywhere alone. We shouldhave to get a little dog for you--or else I should have to leave off mylessons and my music and everything to go everywhere with you. No, youare a very selfish old man to wish to be quite blind," said Claudiagaily. "I like you much better as you are."
"I should not see how thin your mother's face is growing. I can seethat. The grey hairs--if they are coming--I can't see as it is."
"Nor can I--for the very good reason that there are none to see,"Claudia replied.
There were several children--all younger, considerably younger thanClaudia, and the two next her were girls. So for the moment the familycares were not so heavy as in the future they would assuredly be, whenthe little boys' schooling would have to be thought of, and college, orstarting them in the world, beyond that again. Mr Meredon was theyounger son of a large family. All that he could hope for had been donefor him, and the seniors of his family were not rich men for theirposition.
"There is only Aunt Mildred," he said more than once to his wife: "sheis alone now, and she used to be fond of me."
"Till you married," said Mrs Meredon. "And--it is not exactly as ifher money was Meredon money. She only has it for life, has she not?"
"Yes, only for her life; and she has, by her husband's instructions, tokeep up the place in such perfect order,--besides its being temporarilyrather heavily burdened,--that she is really not very rich in readymoney. General Osbert, the next owner, will be better off than she.Still, if she could see us, she might do something for the children.Anything would be something--even helping Claudia's education."
"That would be almost the best help she could give us," said MrsMeredon, eagerly. "Claudia is, I feel almost certain, unusually clever,and--you must not be vexed, Basil--an idea has struck me, her and me Ishould say, which would make things easier in the future. If Claudiacould have the chance of some really first-rate teaching for a couple ofyears or so, she would then be eighteen, and she might turn herknowledge to account."
"You mean by becoming a governess?" said Mr Meredon. "I doubt if AuntMildred would give any help towards such an end as that."
"No, I don't mean a governess in the ordinary way. But in the firstplace she could teach Lalage and Alix, and the boys too for some time tocome. And besides that, I quite think she could have other pupils.Mrs Carteret has been speaking to me about her three girls--they arequite little still, you know, but in a year or two she will have toarrange something. Of course they are not the sort of people to sendtheir girls to school; but, on the other hand, she is very averse tohaving a resident governess, as their house is already so full. Shealmost said to me that they would gladly pay as much as to a residentgoverness if they could meet with any lady in the neighbourhood whocould undertake to give the children daily lessons. And Mr Fade, Irather fancy he would be delighted to join in any plan of the kind. Hewants companionship for Sydney, and yet he would certainly never sendher to school."
"So we should have a select establishment for young ladies here," saidMr Meredon, half amused, half incredulous. "I doubt if the Meredonprejudices would not be even more shocked by that than if Claudia becamea governess."
"I don't think so; besides, we can't afford to consider that. Ourcircumstances are very peculiar.
We must do what we can for ourselves.And Claudia is a very exceptional girl."
"Yes, I allow that. But would such a scheme not entail too much fatigueand work for her? She will be very young even at eighteen. And noteacher can teach everything."
"No; but if it were arranged, Claudia and I are sure that both theCarterets and Mr Fade would join to have one or two masters once a weekor so from Curwen. Claudia could superintend the preparation for them,and I, of course, would give what help I could if it were in this house.But most likely Mrs Carteret would wish the lessons to be there.There would be an advantage in that, for it would leave me more time forreading and writing with you."
Mr