Poplar house academy
Manning, Anne, 1807-1879
&M ^m mmm iJ^W'J «*W* a»y . A a i. •J.k.j . .i. . . ^ ^*v* ^" ,,w^VWWWW v ~ -' - . V ^ ^ ^ ir^ffM1 *^y^ C«2g c C «t v «Cc r crc c CC«L.f C CO CCCL e CC « C « r ■ , ccc s ^^—. -a «"CX cc" < «. V. * CCc «C<C< <sk<C VC 3C * < c t ■-<- ^ C - c 1 <srT c <5 C CO C C' C ( < c ( < LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 323 M316po v. 1 POPLAK HOUSE ACADEMY. I THE AUTHOR OF "MARY POWELL." In every village, marked with little spire, Embowered in trees, and hardly known to fame, There dwells, in lowly shade and mean attire, A matron old, whom we schoolmistress name." Shensto^e. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL I. LONDON : ARTHUR HALL, VIRTUE, & CO., 25, PATERNOSTER ROW. 1859. LONDON : PRINTED BT JAMES S. VIRTUE, CITY ROAD. 2.3 POPLAR HOUSE ACADEMY. CHAPTER I. Somewhat back from the village street Stands the old-fashioned country-seat ; Across its antique portico Tall poplar trees their shadows throw ; And, from its station in the hall, An antique time-piece says to all, 'For ever! never! Never ! for ever ! ' Longfellow : The Old Clock on the Stairs. HOW well I remember that evening ! My two sisters sat looking into the fire, and I could see that Jacintha's heart was swelling ; while tears silently rolled down Marian's cheeks. "Yes, I suppose that must be it," said Ja- B 2 Poplar House Academy. cintlia reluctantly at last. " We need not have troubled ourselves to consider whether we could consent to receive my father's protection, since he has placed us beyond the pale of it." " And thereby relieved us of a difficulty/ ' said I ; suggesting a comfort that I felt was a very poor one. "The only thing is the disgrace/' said Ja- cintha, knitting her brow a little. "Oh, there's the sin!" ejaculated poor Ma- rian ; and tears at the same moment streamed so fast from her eyes, that ours sympathetically burst forth. "This won't do — " said Jacintha at last, after crying very heartily. " ' Any good/ " added I, as if she had not finished her sentence. "No, that's quite cer- tain. Come, let us all cheer up a little/' "How can we?" said Marian, trying to smile, and lapsing into tears again. Poplar House Academy. 3 " Marian, you're eighteen. Jacintha and I are old women in comparison. Indeed, / am an old maid really, and have been ever since I was born ; and Jacintha will be, if she lives to be old enough." "Well, what then?" "What then? Why, Jacintha and I not being quite so young and tender as you, do not feel things quite so keenly — though we do feel them bitterly, too." " That's one comfort — I mean it is a comfort that you don't feel them so keenly," said Marian, drying her eyes; "because I know very well that I do feel things too much, and I will cure myself if I can, and when I can — only I can't do it all at once" — with a sweet, April smile. "Of course you can't. But, as I'm the eldest, you know it is my province to preach a little. Now, let us all compose ourselves, and 4 Poplar House Academy. have tea comfortably, and then talk over what is to be done." 1 ' Oh, let us talk over what is to be done first, and have tea afterwards, please," said Marian. "Yes, I'm for that, too," said Jacintha, ' c unless Isabella particularly wishes for tea." " Oh no," said I, " I can wait—" (though I should have liked it.) " Well then, now for it : — Here are we three spinsters, bereaved of our dear mother by death, and of our father by his suddenly quitting the kingdom with every penny he can lay his hands on — leaving us with nothing — " H Except his debts," said Jacintha. w No, we are not liable to them : — except this house, I was going to say, which, luckily, was settled on my mother and her children — and fifty pounds a year each." ' ' On which we must starve," said Jacintha. " Unless we do something," said I. Poplar House Academy. 5 " Which of course we shall ! " cried Marian. ' ' I'm ready, for one. Let me be the first ! I'll go out as governess, and then you two will have time to look about you and let the house. Dear old house \" said she, looking wistfully round. ' ' Marian, what nonsense ! " cried Jacintha. " I shall be the one to go out first ; you're too young — who would have such a chit V* " I know I could not command such a salary as you could," said Marian, meekly. "No, certainly you couldn't, though you are twice as clever as I am, and much better read, and more popular with children — " " Oh, Jacintha ! how can you say so ? You are all that, and more ! I know very well I'm not equal to you ; still, I might do something, and we can but do our best, you know — " " There's only one thing, Marian, in which I am your superior — and that is, in age. I'm ten years older, and shall therefore fetch ten 6 Poplar House Academy. or perhaps twenty guineas more per annum in the governessing market." " Well, I hope you may, I am sure, Jacintha, for it will not be more than you are worth; and whatever I get, I shall be satisfied with, if it is enough to keep me from encumbering you; though, of course, I shall be very glad if I can spare a little for Isabella." " You seem both consigning me to very inglorious inactivity!" said I. " Pray, what am / to do ?" " Oh, you are not strong enough to do any- thing," said Marian. " You must live on the hundred and fifty pounds a year, if you can." " But / can't. What ! live upon your and Jacintha' s little incomes, as well as my own ? No, Marian ! I'll never do that." " Nonsense," interposed Jacintha, " you must not go out. You must be crazy to think of it." Poplar House Academy. j " I will not go out, if you and Marian will not." " Why, what else can we do Vs " Keep a school." 11 A school ! Oh, horrible ! " exclaimed Ja- cintha. There was a pause. " I was afraid you would think so," at length said I rather apologetically. " The only thing is, we need not then sepa- rate." " Oh, horrid !" repeated Jacintha. " What ! a school in this dear old house ? What desecra- tion !" " Suppose the tenant to whom we let it, applies it to that purpose ? " " Oh, we must provide against that in the covenant of the lease." After another pause, Marian remarked, " I wonder what John would think." 8 Poplar House Academy. " Fm sure he would not like it," said Ja- cintha, shortly. Another pause; again broken by Marian, who observed, "It certainly would be very nice for us all to keep together." " So it would ! " exclaimed Jacintha, with one of those revulsions of feeling which she sometimes exhibited. " Oh ! I see it must be ! I'll give in ! We toill keep a school ! " She had, I believe, been hastily turning over in her mind every hope of escape from it, with- out finding one, and therefore sensibly struck her colours. " That's settled, then \" cried Marian, gladly. " And I have a presentiment we shall succeed, and like it very much indeed." " Then now we'll have tea," said I, ringing for it as I spoke. At the same moment, the tinkle of a muffin-bell was heard in the street. I have an affection for the muffin-bell. I Poplar House Academy. 9 inherit it from my mother, who used to say it always called up in her imagination pictures of tradesmen's snug little tea-tables, in small back-parlours behind the shop, where a bright kettle was singing on the hob, and a sleek cat sleeping on the clean hearth. 11 Come, we'll have some muffins/' said I munificently, as Hawkins spread the table-cover. " Don't launch into extravagances already, Isabella," said Jacintha ; ' ' it will do us much more good to begin self-denial. I don't care for muffins." " Then where's the self-denial ? " said I, laughing. " I do, and so does Marian, I know. Here's a sixpence, Hawkins, to invest for us in muffins and crumpets. See that you make a good bargain." " Isabella reminds me of Moore's lines," said Marian, humming them playfully, not senti- mentally— io Poplar House Academy, " ' Come, chase that starting tear away, Ere mine to meet it springs ! To-night, at least to-night be gay, Whate'er to-morrow brings !'" " Ergo, eat muffins, and put an extra spoonful of tea into the teapot/' said I, laughing, as Marian proceeded to measure the tea, not with a spoon, but a little silver shell, out of a small silver caddy, engraven, not embossed, and worn exceeding thin by the plate-leathers of three generations. I observed Hawkins give a puzzled, half- peevish, half-pleased look, as she took the money, and eyed us one after the other. " Well, Hawkins, what is it ? " said I. " Oh, there, I'm glad to see your spirits mending/' said she, with a little jerk of the chin ; " but, sure enough, I do wonder some- times what the ladies is laughing at ! M " One of the Miss Middlemasses' wonderful Poplar House Academy. 1 1 jokes, you dull old Hawkins ! " said Marian, with a pat on her shoulder. " The Misses Middlemass," said I. " Oh no, for pity's sake, no ! " cried Jacintha. "Rather, set grammar at defiance — such a blue-board academy phrase ! ( Seminary for young ladies, by the Misses Middlemass.' — Horrible ! " " Suppose we ignore seminaries and acade- mies, and prohibit the words horrible and horrid till after tea," said I : ' ' otherwise, I must say, c Miss Marian, pass the mark ! ' " We all laughed. " Another of 'the ladies' queer jokes/ Hawkins will think/' said Marian, merrily. " Poor old soul ! she can't imagine what we find in them to laugh at, nor how we can laugh at all." " Family jokes," said Jacintha. " Few out of the magic circle can see the point of them." 1 2 Poplar House Academy. " They are excellent things, though/' said I : ' ' a good stock in hand of familiar, harmless mirth." " Dear me, how people will open their eyes when they hear what we are going to do ! " said Jacintha. " If they do nothing worse than that, we need not mind it much," said I. " Worse ? I hope and expect they'll do ' a deal better,' as Hawkins says ! M cried Marian. "Opening their eyes would not get us any pupils : I expect them to open their ears, and hearts, and purses. Depend on it, we shall soon be obliged to say ' a limited number only is taken \'" "Ah, that's a professional fiction," said Jacintha. "Schoolmasters and schoolmistresses generally limit themselves to as many as they can get." "Or their houses can hold," suggested I. Poplar House Academy. 1 3 C( Only bachelors' houses are elastic. Come, Marian, dispense the herb that cheers but not inebriates. Here come the muffins." " The idea ! " presently exclaimed Jacintha ; " the idea that pupils will pour in ! How do we know we shall get even one ? I dare say we shall not." " One would be worse than none," said I ; " for there would be all the routine, with very little return." "On the contrary, / should very gladly begin with only one," said Marian; "and rather prefer it, because it would be some one to practice on, before we committed any blunders on a magnified scale. What ought the routine to be, I wonder?" We were all profoundly ignorant. Not one of us had ever been at school. My mother had educated me, with the assistance of mas- ters; and I, with the assistance of masters, had educated my sisters. 14 Poplar House Academy. " Oh, we shall soon arrange all that," said Jacintha ; " I have not the least fear of any- thing of that kind." " Nor I, with two so clever as Isabella and you to arrange it/' said Marian; "I only thought you could give me some little notion." 1 ' We'll put it all down on paper after tea," said I ; " that will be the only way." "Yes; because we really must have some- thing definite before us," said Marian. "I suppose we must have a French and English teacher." " Dear me, no." " Dear me, Said I and Jacintha at the same moment. "No!" repeated Jacintha, with surprise. "Well, I have a prejudice against French teachers," said I. "I confess, I fancy them all profligate and treacherous, and too much for us simple unsophisticated bodies. They would get flirting with the dancing-master, or s, no." \ 3, yes." ) Poplar House Academy. 15 reading French novels in bed ; or — there's no knowing what they might not do. I am snre it would disturb my rest at night." " But, my dear Isabella — ! " "But, my dear Jacintha, we shall do per- fectly well without one. Good old Monsieur Hebert gave you an excellent French accent ; and, besides, who wants to speak French like a native, in this place? Let us limit our undertakings to our capabilities : teach what we know to as many as we can teach, and no more : then, all the profits will be ours, instead of being cut up by having to pay salaries." f ' Surely that is a sensible idea ! n cried Marian appealingly to Jacintha, who looked dubious. " Yes, yes ; you shall teach French and take the general superintendence ; Isabella will keep house, receive visitors, and have a class in the parlour for composition and Italian, 1 6 Poplar House Academy, and sit by when the music and drawing masters come; and I will take the general drudgery that any one not an idiot may fearlessly under- take— reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, grammar — " ( ' Marian, Marian ! " interposed Jacintha. ' ( And use of the globes ! " added Marian, laughingly. " A school would not be a school without that!" A pause ensued. "What is Isabella thinking of?" said Ma- rian, softly. " Why," said I, with a little hesitation, " I don't like seeing any defect in my own scheme; but — " "But what?" " If this is carried out, I fear that Jacintha and you will never marry." " Oh, pray don't let that trouble you ! " said Jacintha, reining up her head. Poplar House Academy. 17 " No, it really should not/' pursued Marian earnestly ; " because, what has prevented our marrying hitherto, if any suitable persons had wanted to marry us ? You know very well, Isabella, such persons do not abound here, or you would not have remained single, unless by your own choice ; and as for Jacintha, — when some one worthy of her, and whom she can consent to admit to be so, shall appear, never fear his making his way to her, whether we keep a school or not \" " The simplicity of the child ! " said Ja- cintha, looking across to me, with a smile and a sigh. ' ' Child ! Fm eighteen ! " cried Marian. ' ' And as steady as old Time ! Please don't lower my dignity, Jacintha, or it will be im- possible for me to inspire respect." u From the one pupil ! Oh dear, no ! I won't lower your dignity." c 1 8 Poplar House Academy. " What will be the first step you shall take, Isabella?" "I rather think I shall call upon Mrs. Meade." " Mrs. Meade ? What can she know about school-keeping ?" cried Jacintha. "Not much more than she does about almost everything else, probably," said I; " but there is hardly a subject on which she cannot say something to the purpose. Besides, she is a good sympathizer, which is always a comfort; and perhaps she may even get us a pupil." "She?" " Yes. Do not recoil too impatiently from any opening. Afterwards, I think I shall call upon Mrs. Cole." " Oh, Isabella ! " " I know her to be no favourite of yours, nor is she of mine ; but you must remember she is a retired schoolmistress — " Poplar House Academy. 1 9 " True ! this is the first time I ever forgot it/' said Jacintha. "And may have valuable information to impart." " Depend on it she won't give it you ! " " Well, we shall see. Why should I depend on it before I have tried?" " Oh, if you like to," said Jacintha, with distaste. " What do you mean to do ? " said I. " I think it will be a very good plan for us each to do whatever we can, to-morrow, according to our several judgments." " Then I shall call on Mrs. Forsyth," said Jacintha, with decision. " I don't think much good is likely to accrue from that," said I. " No more than I think there is any good in your calling on Mrs. Cole," retorted Ja- cintha. 20 Poplar House Academy, " We each have our cronies/ ' observed Marian. " Crony is hardly a suitable word for a Mrs. Forsyth/' said Jacintha. " / shall call on Mrs. Christmas/' said Marian. " Marian \" " I shall ! We each have our cronies." And again, old Hawkins, as she entered to clear the table, was cheered with that sweet, silvery laugh. "'Another of the Miss Middlemasses' funny jokes, Hawkins." " Dear ladies, I hopes the muffins was to your mind." " Quite, thank you : I feel all the better for them; and so, I dare say, do my sisters, for they could not touch their dinner." " Ah, that is why you thought of the muf- fins," said Jacintha. "Well, it really was kind of you." Poplar House Academy. 21 When candles were lit and the table cleared, Marian set to work with writing materials, to sketch out her crude ideas of cards, circulars, and " the daily routine." " I wonder," said she, after having been thus employed for some time, " I wonder what John will think of it." " Time enough for him to know when all is settled," said Jacintha. I believe we each had our misgivings on the subject. CHAPTER II. A husbandman, whose tliree sons were not always on the best terms, one day pointed to a fagot, and desired each of them in turn to try to break it. After they had all failed, he directed them to untie it, and then try to snap each stick separately ; which they did with ease. Then said the old man, " Thus you, my children, as long as you remain united, are a match for all your enemies ; but, differ and separate, and you are all undone!" — iEsop's Fables. IT appears to me that the Middlemasses have always thought sufficiently well of them- selves. By this I may be understood to imply that we have thought rather more of ourselves than there was, perhaps, any absolute occasion for. Thus, we were not of the lower ranks, but were not high born; and yet we thought and talked a good deal of " the family," though we knew nothing of it beyond our grandfather Poplar House Academy. 23 — a plain, honest man. Also, we were apt to think we had sustained heavy losses, and been reduced from great affluence ; whereas our means had never been more than moderate, though extremely comfortable, till my father's expensive courses began. Again, we regarded our domestic misfortunes as remarkably hard and worthy of a very extraordinary amount of sympathy from our friends; whereas I now incline to believe that hundreds and thousands of families of the middle class might have been found at any time, in any part of the United "Kingdoms, who would have thought their lot vastly bettered indeed, had it been no more aggravated than ours. However, fortunately for us, there was a sincerity in our representations of our affairs, which completely won over the majority of our acquaintance to view them precisely as we did. We were very much pitied and condoled with, and great allowances 24 Poplar House Academy. were made for us, and a great deal of interest and curiosity elicited about what we should do and how we should do it; though, after all, perhaps, we may have occupied far less of their thoughts in this way than we supposed. Our maternal grandfather and grandmother were a worthy couple of the name of Edmon- stone. They lived in the small but cheerful country town of Bayford, in the very house we now occupied. From this house my mother married ; in this house, my aunt Christy con- tinued to minister to her parents till they dropped off; to this house, we Middlemass girls used to be uncommonly glad to pay long visits, whether in winter or summer, to grand- papa and grandmamma, till such time as we got dreadfully home-sick, and privately sent a line to mamma to beg to be recalled. These visits afforded us our only glimpses of the country ; for our father, who was a busy man Poplar House Academy, 25 in the city, contented himself with renting a good family house, neither in nor out of town, and never sent us to the sea-side. We used to be very happy during the early part of our lives : the first half of the day was engaged in lessons, under my mother's superintendence; then came walking, a visit or two to pay or receive, and my father's return in the evening. This was always the signal for cheerfulness; he used to come home for relaxation, and liked to see my mother nicely dressed and everything in apple-pie order for him. When we were too young to dine late, they generally dined by themselves ; but my mother was one of those who, while practising a genteel economy, always knew how to give a genial air to a meal, though it were but a cold joint of mutton. The plate would be bright, the vegetables delicately dressed, proper condiments at hand, and a pudding, devised or perhaps made by herself, 26 Poplar House Academy. would crown the feast. She would not buy salmon at three shillings a pound, but she did not grudge sixteen-pence ; she would not give half-a-crown for a peach, but would have the freshest, ripest of strawberries and cherries in their season. My father was a tall, strikingly handsome man, though his hair was as white as snow. He always brought home the news of the day, which my mother enjoyed hearing him retail, for she had no leisure hours to waste in the morning over the Times ; and, as he came out with one scrap of information after another, over his wine and walnuts, it is sur- prising to think to what account she could turn it. " c Hurricane at the Caraccas : ' Marian, where are the Caraccas ? Turn to the atlas, dear. i An opera by Bononcini is going to be revived : ' Isabella, I forget about Bononcini — was not he a rival of Handel's ? ' Some uew Poplar House Academy. 27 discoveries made at Pompeii :' by the by, Jacintha, you can tell us, I fancy, when Pompeii was overwhelmed ? " Yes, those were pleasant days. John (the only boy among us, bom after me and before Jacintha) was at Merchant Taylors' School ; but we had enough of him, if not rather too much, in the holidays ; and sometimes we were very glad when he .went down to finish them off with grandpapa and grandmamma Edmonstone. We were glad when he went there, but we were still more glad to go ourselves. Oh, how joyful we were, when my mother or my father accompanied one or two of us to the coach- office in Bishopgate Street, saw us safely en- sconced inside the old stage-coach, and our small box safely stowed on the roof, under the tarpaulin, and then charged us with messages and advice, and smiled and nodded to the last ! How we could hardly sit still with delight and 28 Poplar House Academy, impatience to be off, unless there were five other insides, or one or two cross enough for five; which subdued us very much. But it was generally my luck to travel with some nice old gentleman ; it occurred so often that at last I used quite to look out for him, and be disap- pointed if he did not appear. He and I gene- rally got very cordial towards the end of the journey, and he learnt a good deal more of my history than I did of his. We used to know all the pretty wayside inns where the horses would be changed; and, just as day was closing, whether in a glare of midsummer sunshine or shrouded in December gloom, we would dash up to ' c The White Hart," Bay ford, and see our upright, white-headed, brisk-looking old grand- father standing just under the porch beside the innkeeper, ready to receive us and carry us home. That home was at the end of the town — at the Poplar House Academy. 29 end of the principal street, just where it began to fall off into fields and gardener s' -grounds — and at the end of a long narrow front garden with a double avenue of fine poplars, a carriage sweep, and a long, oval grass-plat. Five or six wide shallow steps led up to the house-door, which had a handsome, heavily carved archi- trave, almost as cumbrous as a pulpit sounding- board, and opened into a square hall, paved with black and white marble in diamonds or lozenges. The ceiling was painted in uncommonly vivid oil colours, by a free, masterly hand, with sprawling goddesses and cupids embedded in clouds. The staircase was double, forming several right-angles, and of carved oak. On the right hand was the drawing-room, with its carved ceiling, cornice, and high mantelpiece; on the left, the long, narrow dining-room, with its strait-backed chairs worked in Turk-stitch. 30 Poplar House Academy. Both these apartments had smaller rooms be- yond, and there was another sitting-room be- hind the drawing-room, appropriated to my grandfather's use. Upstairs were nnmerons bedrooms and dressing-rooms, on various levels; on the basement, excellent servants' offices. Coach-house and stables on one side the house; good kitchen-garden, bowling-green, and formally laid out flower-garden behind. Such was the house to which we delighted to repair ; capering up the steps to greet my grandmother and aunt, with broad smiles and impetuous kisses. Sometimes Jacintha and I were sent together ; sometimes, I was allowed to undertake the charge of the more timid Marian, and, in earlier times, I often went by myself; but latterly, when my dear mother required more of my care, I was the one who went least frequently. Behold us proceeding in procession to the Poplar House Academy. 3 1 bedroom with clean white dimity furniture, that had been duly prepared for ns : grand- mamma, in her voluminous habiliments, sail- ing before us ; aunt Christy, who is short, fat, and rosy, with an arm round our waists, and Hawkins, who was then only beginning to be rather an old-maidish parlour-maid, carrying the boxes, while grandpapa stood at the hall- door rummaging out sixpence for the porter. What an immensity we had to tell about papa, mamma, and our selves ! How very little lei- sure we found for asking questions ! How aunt Christy would laugh at our talking our- selves out of breath ! — how grandmamma, never satiated, would enjoy it all; and how tardily we at length went down to dinner ! Then there was grandpapa to begin with again. There was little done but talking the first evening. Perhaps a song might be sung — a piece of fancy-work produced and criticized, 32 Poplar House Academy. but very few stitches were taken. Dear me ! it seems but yesterday. We got dreadfully sleepy at last, being a good deal shaken by the journey; and grandmamma would bring out rich seed-cake, and plum-cake, and biscuits for supper ; and we secretly felt we could have eaten them all and more — we were so hungry ! No danger of lying awake that night ! — in sheets dried on a sweetbriar hedge, and laid in lavender, on a bed soft as down. People enjoyed soft beds in those days : now they are accustomed to prefer hard ones. For my part, I used to think it quite enchanting to sink (at Christmas) into a mass of feathers that all but closed over me, and lie blinking at the unusual luxury of a wood-fire smouldering on the hearth. My mother had the impression that my grandmother used to let her spare beds get damp : however, they never materially hurt any of us, though we certainly often had Poplar House Academy, 33 tremendously bad colds. But grandmamma always said we caught them on the journey, and told us how dangerous it was to let down the coach- window. Then, the next morning grandpapa would say, " Come, young ladies, it will do you no harm to take three runs round the garden with me before breakfast," and start off in advance, clapping his arms across the chest. Then, when we came panting into the breakfast-room, grandmamma would say, " Bless the girls ! what colours ! " and nudge my aunt to look at us. Continually during breakfast-time, she would ejaculate, " How they have shot up, to be sure! Well, time slips away;" and, directly after breakfast, my grandfather would brush up his hat, tell us to put on our bonnets {bunnets he always called them), clip us under his arm, and trot off to exhibit us to Mrs. Cole, or Mrs. Leftwych, or Mrs. Price. Everybody 34 Poplar House Academy. knew and respected my grandfather: it was not that he was rich ; it was not that he was eminent or powerful in any one direction, except in the way of manner and character. The first was charming; the latter, first-rate. Kissing his hand, or nodding, or gracefully bowing, or gaily smiling, to one and another as he passed along the street, many were the friendly though transient feelings he awakened. " Mr. Price, good day to yon. This is my grand- daughter, sir \" " Indeed ! Upon my word, sir, she seems a very nice young lady." This used to make us feel rather foolish, and wish grandpapa would move on; while he, quite unaware of our self-consciousness, would linger to have a few more words with Mr. Price on affairs social and domestic. This worthy couple are now dead : nay, they had long been dead when I and my sisters sat Poplar House Academy. 35 in their old places revolving the scheme of opening a school. As Jacintha and I advanced in womanhood, affairs became less pleasant at home : my father became too mnch of a stranger in it. A clone! fell over the house; it could not be altogether concealed from grandpapa and grandmamma, who became very unhappy about it : then there was a great deal of letter-writing ; too much of it, I often thought; and yet, how could consolation be sought or sympathy expressed but by letter? No, we had great need to be thankful for the general post; and were so in our hearts. I am sure I used to watch for the postman turning the corner, and could settle to nothing till I saw him ; and then, if he had nothing for us, and went by, I sometimes turned quite faint. Occasionally he used to catch my eye, many doors off, and shake his head. My grandfather's and grandmother's chief 36 Poplar House Academy. resource for us was having us down to stay with them. But union is strength, and we did not much like to divide. My mother's post was clearly at home; I was much needed by her; and as for Jacintha and Marian, they became wretched if they were long absent from us. However, we did go to Bayford each in turn, too : they were getting in years, and we felt it was due to such kind relatives and protectors. Besides, we really liked being with them, though each enjoyed herself in a different way. Grandmamma and grandpapa — I smile while I write it — had the notion that I was a very superior woman : they told people so ; I have overheard them whisper it, and say I was very clever indeed, quite a genius; it was a pity everybody did not know it ; nobody would guess what was in me, I was so retiring ; and the dearest girl ! so fond of home, &c. &c. &c. Poplar House Academy. 37 It was a sad reflection to poor grandmamma that your very superior people are often mightily behindhand in very commonplace acquirements, and her grand aim was to endue me with such a measure of these as that I should be quite perfection. Consequently, there was nothing she liked better than to be closeted with me in a little sanctum of her own, where were sugar and spice and all that's nice, and to say, " Isabel, my dear, there is nothing in what I am going to show you that the most delicate lady may not do without even soiling her fingers, if she be but commonly careful ; u and then proceed to initiate me into the mysteries of a ratifia pudding, or hunter's pudding, or cheesecake, or a Chantilly basket; Hawkins having to trot up and down all the while with plates, cups, spoons, eggs, milk, cream, and undergo to the full as much trouble as if she had made the article outright. 38 Poplar House Academy. Jacintha was more Aunt Christy's companion. Both of them were rather fond of dress and parties ; and Aunt Christy, who was conscious, perhaps, of not being very much in request herself, except for better qualities than those that mainly embellish evening parties, was pleased to take out with her a niece so hand- some and agreeable as Jacintha, gifted with a beautiful and cultivated voice. Marian had ways of her own for amusing herself there. There were certain very secret and mysterious essays in authorship, original design, and musical composition, that she could carry out nowhere so free from moles- tation as in the dear old house. Marian could have been a first-rate genius in almost every department, had her capabilities been properly cultivated. And as it was, the crea- tive, inventive faculty, was continually mani- festing itself, and breaking out in various little Poplar House Academy. 39 attempts, that sometimes won the admiration, sometimes the laughter, of the domestic hearth ; at which she was, in the one case, innocently elated, in the other, rather sore. But her mortification always found an outlet in some funny speech ; for Marian could not be pettish or ill-tempered. As for music, she would really improvise grandly, when she thought nobody within hearing, which my mother and I have sometimes wickedly contrived to be. But, if asked or desired to improvise in our presence, she would say, " Oh, very well," and after a grand crash on the keys, sing off an extempore travestie of the most amusing description, of one of Jacintha's fine Italian bravuras, — " Ombra adorata," for instance, — till my mother and I were in fits of laughter, and Jacintha would start up and give her a good shaking. Before company Marian's ac- quirements were shut up as closely as a rose- 4-0 Poplar House Academy. bud unblown. She would not launch out in this way even to John, though both he and my father appreciated musical genius. These little snatches of country life revived us, even after my dear grandfather and grand- mother were dead, and poor Aunt Christy was very glad of a companion. She did not depend on one, however, but bustled on manfully by herself, coming up to town once or twice a year. Suddenly she sickened, and was carried off by a malady that must have been of long standing, though the sturdy little woman had never succumbed, nor made mention of it. Poor Aunt Christy ! Then the Poplar House came to my mother, and after her death, to her daughters. My father was glad to send us all down to it; change of air for my mother was the plea j and certainly, if any air or any place could have Poplar House Academy. 41 restored her this would. But she languished, and at length died j of water on the chest it was professionally said. My father was very kind to us after that. And then we lost sight of him again, always on plea of "business, business." Sometimes he answered our letters; often not. People began to be shy of inquiring after him of us, and to think it best to ignore his existence. But they could not at last ; because it was publicly known that he had suddenly left the kingdom in a disgraceful manner. John was now junior partner in a respectable mer- cantile house, and led a respectable but some- what selfish bachelor life, paying our allow- ances regularly, generally coupled with a letter of rather unnecessary advice. John, at this momentous crisis, was in the Channel Islands, and detained by contrary winds. We could not even get a letter to him. It was very well, therefore, for Marian to say, — "What 42 Poplar House Academy, will John think, I wonder?" and quite im- possible for any one to answer her by saying what he would think : though we had our apprehensions that he would think differently from ourselves. John had good and generous qualities, though they were somewhat smothered by his business life. For my part, I thought it just as likely he would befriend us as not ; and say we must not think of a school, or any- thing of the sort — he would represent my father, and make provision for us all if we would but be economical, and keep together, and preserve, as far as in us lay, the respect- ability of "the family." I confess that this consoled me when I went to bed that night ; and that, the more I lay awake and thought it over, the more likely it appeared. I did not in the least know what John's actual money - worth was ; but estimated it, in a general way, at " something considerable." CHAPTER III. "When gathering clonds around we view, And days are dark, and friends are few, On Him we'll lean, who, not in vain, Experienced every human pain. He sees our griefs, allays our fears, And counts and treasures up our tears. Gka^t. THE next morning, my little wheel-chair was brought to the door. I have forgotten to say, that I was crippled in the hip-joint. It was owing to an accident. One day, I was walking beside this very chair, with my dear mother in it, when an overdriven ox came racing down the street, and so fright- ened the boy who was drawing the chair, that he hauled it against a door- step, and overturned 44 Poplar House Academy. it and my poor mother upon me. I, aiming to save her (which I did), got a hurt which, I suppose, will last all my life. Dressed in my best mourning, therefore, I sallied forth in state, drawn by the redoubtable Hawkins, to call on Mrs. Meade. Things look different in the morning light from what they did overnight : the shadows fall all the other way. I remember spoiling a pencil sketch by forgetting this. It is curious, too, that we should wake with different impressions from those with which we fell asleep ; especially if we have not, consciously, been dreaming : but so it is. I had fallen asleep sanguine ; I awoke sober, serious, and rather depressed. I now felt a presentiment that John would not help us, contenting himself with a few kind speeches; and that a school we should keep, and find it very up-hill work. But I kept these presentiments to myself; because my sisters Poplar House Academy, 45 might have their presentiments too, and they seemed to be of a more cheerful description. Jacintha's smiles predominated over her sighs, as she prepared for her visit to her favourite friend; and Marian talked like a sage and a saint. Jacintha's choice of an intimate, it must be told, was not accordant with my judgment. Mrs. Forsyth had been known to me in her unmarried days, though not well known till long after I had fancied myself possessed of her character. She came once to pay us a long visit, when we lived near London. We were friends when she came into the house ; we were not friends when she went out of it. Neither were we foes; we were simply acquaintance. I do not think it necessary to fall into rages at every fresh instance of hollowness, weakness, or treachery ; but friendship is a sacred thing, and I cannot entertain or profess it for any one 46 Poplar House Academy, whom I find dangerously weak, or hollow, or treacherous. Jacintha's experience of her had not been mine, and there was no need to rob her of a friend, because I had lost one. Mrs. Forsyth gave very nice little music-parties, and Jacin- tha's voice was in request at them, so that the intercourse was pleasant to both. As for Marian's crony, Mrs. Christmas, she was, emphatically, " a good old body," and no- thing more. If a person were but good, Marian never considered their worldly insignificance : her thoughts were not of theirs, but of them. Well, — /thought myself far more discerning in the choice of a counsellor and confidant than either of my sisters ; and I think so still. Nevertheless, my heart was heavy as Hawkins jolted me along; and when I reached Mrs. Meade's large, quiet old mansion, which stood within a paved court, at the other end of Poplar House Academy. 47 the town, I was as tired and depressed as could be. She was painting a primrose from nature when I went in. Though fifty years of age, she kept up her acquirements — not for display, but from pure love of their exercise. It was not often that I mustered energy to reach her j consequently, as her own health was deli- cate, we had not met for some time, and she heard me announced with surprise. She put down her brush in the middle of a wash, with- out minding a hard line, hastened to me and affectionately kissed me, and led me to a chair: then asked, with kind solicitude, how I was. The Meades were in a superior position to our own, and did not visit in the same circle. Hence we saw less of them than we should otherwise have done ; and though there was no pride in Mrs. Meade, and I felt a kind of 48 Poplar House Academy. instinctive persuasion that we were kindred souls, Jacintha, though invited to some of their grand parties, was a little afraid of them. This feeling, in the present instance, was ex- perienced by myself; I knew not how to begin, and, after answering kind inquiries con- cerning our health, a pause ensued. I said, " I fear you must think it very odd I should call so early." " Oh, no," said she kindly, " I am glad you have done so; because, later in the day, you might not have found me at home." " And I particularly wished to find you at home, — and disengaged," said I, after another effort. 