Tom and Some Other Girls - A Public School Story

George De Horne Vaizey

Informations

• Publié par: feym
• Publié le: 08 décembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 17
• Langue: English

Extrait

Project Gutenberg's Tom and Some Other Girls, by Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Tom and Some Other Girls
A Public School Story
Author: Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey
Illustrator: Percy Tarrant
Release Date: April 16, 2007 [EBook #21102]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TOM AND SOME OTHER GIRLS ***
Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey
"Tom and some other Girls"
Chapter One.
A Change.
“Yes, she must go to school!” repeated Mr Chester.
A plaintive sob greeted his words from the neighbourhood of the sofa. For once
in her life Mrs Chester’s kindly, good-tempered face had lost its smiles, and was
puckered up into lines of distress. She let one fat, be-ringed hand drop to her
side and wander restlessly over the satin skirt in search of a pocket. Presently
out came a handkerchief, which was applied to each eye in turn, and came away
bedewed with tears.
“It will break my heart to part from her!” she faltered. Her husband laughed with
masculine scepticism.
“Oh, nonsense, dear,” he said; “hearts are not so easily broken. You are too
sensible to grieve over what is for the child’s good, and will get used to the
separation, as other mothers have done before you. It will be the making of
Rhoda to leave home for a few years, to mix with other girls, and find her level.
She is getting an altogether exaggerated idea of her own importance!”“Her level, indeed! Find her level! I should like to know the school where you
could find another girl like her!” cried the mother, in a tone which showed plainly
enough who was responsible for Miss Rhoda’s conceit. The tears dried on her
face for very indignation, and she sat upright in her seat, staring across the
room.
It was a gorgeous apartment, this drawing-room of Erley Chase, the residence of
Henry Chester, Esquire, and Marianne his wife; a gorgeous room in the literal
acceptance of the term, for each separate article of furniture looked as if it had
been chosen more from the fact of its intrinsic value than for its usefulness or
beauty.
Mr Chester, the son of a country clergyman, had considered himself passing rich
when a manufacturer uncle took him into his employ, at a salary of £400 a year.
The first thing he did after this position was assured was to marry his old love,
the daughter of the village doctor, with whom he had played since childhood; and
the young couple spent the first dozen years of their married lives very happily
and contentedly in a little house in a smoky manufacturing town. The bachelor
uncle was proud of his clever nephew and fond of the cheery little wife, who was
always kind and thoughtful even when gout and a naturally irritable temper
goaded him into conduct the reverse of amiable. When Harold was born, and
christened after himself, he presented the child with a silver mug, and remarked
that he hoped he would turn out better than most young men, and not break his
parents’ hearts as a return for their goodness. When Jim followed, the mug was
not forthcoming; but when little Rhoda made her appearance six years later he
gave her a rattle, and trusted that she would improve in looks as she grew older,
since he never remembered seeing an uglier baby. He was certainly neither a
gracious nor a liberal old gentleman, but the young couple were blessed with
contented minds and moderate ambitions, so they laughed good-naturedly at his
crusty speeches, and considered themselves rich, inasmuch as they were able to
pay their way and were spared anxiety for the future. And then an extraordinary
thing happened! The old man died suddenly, and left to his beloved nephew a
fortune which, even in these days of millionaires, might truthfully be called
enormous. Henry Chester could not believe the lawyers when the amount of his
new wealth was broken to him, for his uncle had lived so unostentatiously that he
had had no idea of the magnitude of his savings. The little wife, who had never
known what it was to spend sixpence carelessly in all her thirty-five years, grew
quite hysterical with excitement when an arithmetical calculation proved to her
the daily riches at her disposal; but she recovered her composure with wonderful
celerity, and expressed her intention of enjoying the goods which the gods had
sent her. No poking in gloomy town houses after this! No hoarding of riches as
the poor old uncle had done, while denying himself the common comforts of life!
She herself had been economical from a sense of duty only, for her instincts
were all for lavishness and generosity—and now, now! Did not Henry feel it a
provision of Providence that Erley Chase was empty, and, as it were, waiting for
their occupation?
Her husband gasped at the audacity of the idea. Erley Chase! the finest place
around, one of the largest properties in the county, and Marianne suggested that
he should take it! that he should remove from his fifty-pound house into that
stately old pile! The suggestion appalled him, and yet why not? His lawyer
assured him that he could afford it; his children were growing up, and he had
their future to consider. He thought of his handsome boys, his curly-headed girl,
and decided proudly that nothing was too good for them; he looked into the
future, and saw his children’s children reigning in his stead, and the name of
Chester honoured in the land. So Erley Chase was bought, and little Mrs Chester
furnished it, as we have seen, to her own great contentment and that of the
tradespeople with whom she dealt; and in the course of a few months the family
moved into their new abode.At first the country people were inclined to look coldly on the new-comers, but it
was impossible to keep up an unfriendly attitude towards Mr and Mrs Chester.
They were utterly free from affectation, and, so far from apeing that indifference
to wealth adopted by most nouveaux riches, were so frankly, transparently
enchanted with their new possessions that they were more like a couple of
children with a new toy than a steady-going, middle-aged couple. They won first
respect, and then affection, and were felt to be a decided acquisition to the well-
being of the neighbourhood, since they were never appealed to in vain in the
cause of charity.
In the days of her own short means, when she had been obliged to look
helplessly at the trials of her neighbours, Mrs Chester had solaced herself by
dreaming of what she would do if she had money and to spare, and to her credit
be it said, she did not forget to put those dreams into execution when the
opportunity arose. The days are past when fairy godmothers flash suddenly
before our raptured eyes, clad in spangled robes, with real, true wings growing
out of their shoulders, but the race is not dead; they appear sometimes as stout
little women, in satin gowns and be-feathered bonnets, and with the most prosaic
of red, beaming faces. The Chester barouche was not manufactured out of a
pumpkin, nor drawn by rats, but none the less had it spirited away many a
Cinderella to the longed-for ball, and, when the Prince was found, the fairy
godmother saw to it that there was no lack of satin gowns, or glassy slippers.
Dick Whittingtons, too, sitting friendless by the roadside, were helped on to
fortune; and the Sleeping Beauty was rescued from her dull little home, and
taken about to see the world. It is wonderful what fairy deeds can be
accomplished by a kind heart and a full purse, and the recipients of Mrs
Chester’s bounty were relieved from undue weight of obligation by the
transparent evidence that her enjoyment was even greater than their own!
Harold went to Eton and Oxford, and Jim to Sandhurst; but Rhoda stayed at
home and ruled supreme over her mother, her governesses, and the servants of
the establishment. Her great-uncle’s wish had been fulfilled, inasmuch as she
grew up tall and straight, with a mane of reddish-gold hair and more than an
average share of good looks. She was clever, too, and generous enough to have
acknowledged her faults if it had for one moment occurred to her that she
possessed any; which it had not. It was one of Mrs Chester’s articles of faith that
her daughter was the most beautiful, the most gifted, and the most perfect of
created beings, and Rhoda agreeably acquiesced in the decision, and was pitiful
of other girls who were not as herself. Every morning when she had not a
headache, and did not feel “floppy” or “nervey,” she did lessons with Fraulein,
who adored her, and shed tears behind her spectacles when obliged to point out
a fault. Then the two would repair together to the tennis courts and play a set,
the pupil winning by six games to love; or go a bicycle ride, when Rhoda would
practise fancy figures, while her good, but cumbersome, companion picked
herself up from recumbent positions on the sidewalk, and shook the dus