THE ELDEST

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXIV, Issue 26, 28 June 1906, Page 23

THE ELDEST

There were six of them, the eldest aged eleven years They were gentlefolks, of ancient lineage, but "deadly poor; patched and outgrown clothes bearing full-testi-mony to this sad circumstance, if other proof were needed than the fact that they lived in a tall, narrow House m a poor neighborhood, dirty of doorstep,- devoid of knocker and letter-box. • - ' . It is true that sometimes, after dark, the eldest ~ Tvould surreptitiously ' rub up ' the greenish-colored metal, that too often looked as if it had for days been immersed -in the worst of London fogs, when onca again me idea of brass -was suggested to the beholder, whose eye, ungratefully but involuntarily, would be encouraged lo rove o\er the whole house-front in careless expectancy of something moderately attractive. But the l>rass was not too often subjected to this feverishly administered massage, for the Eldest was shrewdly aware that perfection of cleanliness in this one small matter which was all she could contrive, would but render her smeary window r cleaning and that bugbear, the doorstep the more noticeable by contrast. ' It was only when, coming home tired in the evening from his long day in the citiy, or setting forth somewhat weanly in the morning to resume his endless toil, her father's chance glance rested on the neglected appointments of his frcnt door-and the words ' that if oks disgraceful ' fell upon the shrinking ears of his sensitne little daughter-leather and paste were brought into requisition once more. « h •i VI . ar i ha> ?9? 9 cne maWs ervant, to give her her due, aid the steps every morning in broad daylight, unblushing and in curl papers ; and had the family consisted only of the Eldest, her father and the fond but unpractical little mother, who seldom went out. Martha's Ul t^ Ye kept lhe ste P s '<l uite Presentable. But between the Eldest and her baby sister were tour ™™ l Jj? ys ' ( wh^h cause of mixed joy and embarrassment offers full explanation of many things ™f w I J esborou S h . who had married at seventeen, was not but at an age when more affluent young women cn-jc-y youthful pleasures, and are still designated 'girls ' She was born 'in the lap of luxury,' and on the S day that she took Philip Destorough « for richer, forpocrer ' m?, w% am ° ng th ? wcddin 3 g ues ts had dreamed how very much for poorer,' s 0 far as money was concerned it Phfr i?T c - ilh £ two ars orth(^ marriage, Sii ip ,, D?D ?f boroup 11 h ' tlhrou Kh no fault of his own, had lost all the worldly goods with which he had endowed his wife. But when poverty came in at the door, love did not so much as glanc3 at the window. Nothing could dispossess their hearts of the love they bore one iw fo o } h ?? T U* ?°\F, ob them of th <? deep happiness they found in their children. Good health, too, had always attended them, so that the wife retained much of 2IS f? na J ural to her a S e and disposition, while the husband, though too often careworn and de^ pressed, being indeed burdened with anxiety, was yet in the main courageous- and hopeful. ■» Jl WaS < UP ° n the . Eldest poverty sat heaviest-it was her strenuous little nature that it most overtaxed. Jo her mother a small house meant of necessity a want of cleanliness, an ill-furnished -larder, a slatternly maidservant She openly acknowleu>ed her utter inability to cope with these somewhat squalid conditions, her forte °® ln S the ordering of order ready-made, so to say. But Uk> Eldest, albeit the child had known no life other tftan one of struggle and privation, felt an ever-presenb sense of shame and dissatisfaction that her father, with v? c ? ed features and noble bearing of his race faSly op'po^. b6tter than the ° bSCUre Clerk aRd his ' It Was torture to this very much disguised princess to witness occasional meetings -between this same cleric SStn 5, a ?e? cr '+ f nd^ See the two c °n«nue their walk down the street together, even while her nice perception lhlw«L, at } h Z ° ne luOked1 u Oked like a P rince ' despite his S£S?f' tl^t^, stfll*a%lerT Sh ™ * iJS t he /l Were lh !, t y o vul^ar, shewy daughters of a retired butcher,-- named Jones— girls of some twelve and fourteen years respectively, who lived in the big -house at the corner, and who said \ nursemaid,' in a very loud whisper, when they.met the Eldest pushing her baby Uy not unlike her own, she thought, in number and clr-.

* S X W tw^ WW h e^ y " lOoking girl of about her owu age 7 \. . .V 10 * wo children. would_steal a quick, glance at one vanother in passings the. Eldest bringmg all he? P a4er of -observation-no small- amount-to . belt- !„ thai oStaS dry k W hfnTheyTp^r le? ™? ' then,came } a >-of < w v rs * tin \ e « the Eld est, with a ?reat effort and a fast-beating heart merely remarked .that it was veiy cow , to which the other agreed, with a little- shy shtycr, and strove- tc pull the sleeves of her out-grown jacket over, her red little wrists. 8 °^ n «. %n% n * he , occasion the Eldest inquired whether ihe baby m the perambulator was a -girl or a boy,-men-tioning at the same time that hers was a girl' - '-n>- \ d encou^ter she ascertained that between .-this chance acquaintance and herself there was indeed reason for the mutual liking. /,««** !£ ie , yon th? eldes t? ' she had asked ~: Yes, the other had replied, ' are you *» - And the E.ldest nodded. ' What- a miserable looking ghl that is who passes here so often ' Mrs. Desboraugh once observed to her daughter. It was of the child's new acquaintance that Sfl© SpO*KC +>,a '^ti, < !' On>t hink£ ' he is unhappy, but she'is an Eldest,' the other made answer simply. ' What -do you mean, dear ? ' the mother asked somewhat absent-mindedly, mildly puzzled * She i S^ the eldest of {he family.' her' daughter amended, and the opening of the door and the becfcojunc: of Lf l mY ?? ger ' b ? lon S in S to- Martha, the maid, saved tfon Possible embarrassment of further explanaIt was a full hard life, being the Eldest ; but it had its privileges and compensations. It was a great iov to be capable of helping father and mother, thus saving the senous expense of a second servant, as 'undoubtedly t e rt% d -rJi hen ' itT - C^ id lhe Eldest for' many an uSus£V lttle sacrifice ? nd for much really hard work when her sweet young mother kissed her more warmly than was her wont, and said she was a great hdp. And then her father, her clearly lovod father, would sometimes ca 1 her a ' little brick '-the hear.t of the Eldest would glow for days after that. ™ri Bu £ 31 the + c , hil ' drcn W£ *e intractable or disobedient and when her mother would reproach her befcre them for not, aa the Eldest, having more authority over them ifr was very hard. And when the baker's and butcher's bills were heavy, and her mother's pretty eyes were red after laborious poring over them, the Eldest's little heart would ache with compassion, and she would have given much to be as - carelessly happy as the younger ones, who never noticed mother's eyes, and who did not worry about old or untidy clothes. Then again there were the bitter times of grief and humiliation when some im toward circumstance caused the Eldest to reflect up on her own little life and the rights and wrongs eif /I that £he claimed a ny rights, even to T herself and, she certainly would never have entertained -so disloyal a thought as that. she was wronged in any wav .But there were periods when she could not help wistfully wishing that the others might take it in turn I \ i l le eMest > so lhat sh e could occasionally go tc school to learn something ; that she might not live in perpetual fear of her ignorance being discovered, as it once was by a terrible but well -meaning old gentleman who called- upon her mother, and who, after admiring the children, began to- play a horrible sort of game— the 2fS SQf a S P S] 3 ing class-in which the Eldest,- as the eldest, was pven the more difficult "words and was put w +™a J' cf ° r ?c l ' he y oun g«\ones. That night the child ' -had cried herself to sleep ; and since then many a leisure moment had been devoted to learning spelling irdm an} odd book or newspaper she could find <- And' it was a newspaper thst ended it all, ended this uncongenial, unnatural life, unlifting for all concerned' fuHab ar j istoCratilC yoxm S father down to. the beautil One dark monrn°c, in the depth of winter, a t about seven o'clock, the Eldest entered- the kitchen to findMartha somewhat distracted, and very eager . to" avail herself of the child's proffered aid: ' I ' ' I've overslep' myself.' the handmaid hurriedly' announced « an' if you'd see to the din ; ne-ro6m fire an' k la T tae cloth, you f d help me fine, and breakfast won't beso late after all. Do, there's a loive:' ' -_ •■- The Eldest -considered a moment. If n, tbs \ wo ° d *?' dr 7 t . I daresay. J can manage it, . while. the water for the children is heating in here » she said.. ,«But I must go back to Ht»m as socn-as-.ft is hot. You see, first I have to wash the three senarate- - ly, and then I have to give Cyril and Claude my 'opinion on, the way they have washed.'

Give the baby -to your ma -to dress, else you'll never, get done,' said the sympathetic Martha, bustling about with an enormous smut upon her nose. 1 I would not -think it,' the Eldest returned warmly. „ Mother was tired out last night. I . shall take, her breakfast up.' > The child then proceeded to collect paper, wood, andcoal, and making her way briskly .to the dining-room set about^ her task. The wood was damp, and her stiffened lingers seemed to ha.c lost their deftness. In despair she seized the morning newspaper, and, kneeling down, held the large sheet across the fireplace in the vain endeavoi to create a draught. While thus emfloyed, she fell to studying the advertisements, whfle she breathed upen the numb digits cf her disengaged band. Then suddenly her attention was . arrested, her littie crouching form became tense, rigid her very -breathing seemed suspended .' Presently she shook herself, rubbed her eyes, and looked round the poor room in a dazed fashion. She was about to search, with incredulous eyes and trembling fingers, for the paragraph from which, in the first moment of amazement they had strayed, whe-n a tongue of flame licked her hands and she was fain to crush the sheets of paper and stuff them under the grate. Mechanically she prepared the breakfast table with the neatness natural to her, and then, returning to the kitchen, provided herself with hot water and made her way to the nursery. AH through the washing and dressing of the children the Eldest was in a state of bewildered excitement. But one thought at least was definite— she must somehow obtain another newspaper It was Saturday, she remembered, and her father, beyond a casual glance at matters of public interest, often left the mere thorough perusal of the day's intelligence to the long hours of Sunday. He might not even ask for the paper this morning. It was as sho hoped. The absence of the paper was not noted by Mr. Destorough, whose thoughts were distracted by interests much nearer home than any its printed sheets could contain. He left the house immediately after the morning meal, and presently the' Eldest on the pretext of go ; n ? marketing, set forth in feverish naste for the nearest news agent's. She bought the paper and began her breathless search in a quiet by-street. She would have liked to avail herself of the counter in the shop, for the large sheets were difficult to manage in the wind, but there were other customers, and here, at least, she was alone And— yes, her eyes had not deceived her ! There it was again ! ' If Philip d'Arcy Desborough will communicate with Messrs. Marsham and Reeves, Solicitors, 315 Chancery Lane, W.C., he will learn something to his advantage ' The Eldest folded her paper and drew a deen breath Her mind began busily to speculate. Perhaps t-hat hard old Aunt Lavinia had died in a softened mood and leftall her money to Philip d'Arcy Desb-orough, his wife and such children as they possessed. The Eldest considered that such must be the wording of the will, as Aunt Lavmia knew too little of the nephew toward whom she had thus suddenly beccme t<nder and solicitous to be aware of the exact number of his family, or, indeed whether he had any family at all. ' Th< ;. cnild qu ickly decided upon the course to pursue. Her father must not be allowed to -incur the. risk of bitter disappointment,; he was not very strong, he took things very much to heart, his daughter argued She would go to Chancery Lane ; she would learn the truth *. „ v"~ lf ltJ Was all a mistake, all unfounded, she could tell him so, quietly and soothingly. If, O n the other hand— her little heart beat wildly, her breath came short .?iA lan £Sr abo|Ut her - Which way ought she to set forth ? Chancery Lane might be very far : London was i° + V « a + * 1° W l de \, She in 'luircd1 uircd of a passing tradesman. At lirst, he stared as if in much amazement— the Eldest thought it a bad s-ie:n— then he said if she was really wanting to get there she could not do better than take the dark preen 'hus at the corner of street Thanking him in her courbeous*little way, the child walked rapidly to the street mentioned, and decided that -. she could not go astray if she followed the direction of the dark green omnibuses— she would not be so extravagant as to ride in one ! Already sh«. had spent a' penny of the marketing money on a second newspaper and if this exciting advertisement proved to mean nothing the - disappointment would be enhanced for all of them' if money had "been expended upon this, her vain pursuit of wealth. ' *i."- identl y, nwncerv 7,an-. was "" a busy place and thickly populated ; for it rarely chanced, when her eye coiuld no lon«rer .follow one-omnibus, that she had to wait , long for- another -such .rumbling, top-heavy looking guide On she sned. excitement lending wines to her feet. She took no heed of the gathering clouds nor of the rain

that presently fell in' heavy, • smoke-discolored drops. But it must ha\e been- nigh upon- two hours' later when a bedraggled little figure, spoil; »ntf weary, wet through, presented itself in the outer office of too. 315 Chancery • Lane. . . - - - * ' I should lili«e to' see' Messrs. Marsham and Reeves,,, Solicitors, 7 she announced, -addressing a young man who' came .forward to receive her. She made a somewhat pathetic little picture as she stood there, clutching the sopping newspaper" in her hand, her beautiful Uttle face pale with emotion atfd fatigue— her shabby but picturesq-ue clothes, obviously all too thin and worn for protection against the cold and wet— the long curls of dark, chestnut hair heavy with rain. The clerk stared, as naturally he might. ' What is your business ? ' he asked at length, politely enough. " ' It is rather private,' the Eldest returned, with, easy confidence. ' I should prefer to see the solicitors,' she added, with quiet dignity, « if— if they are alone.' ' 1,-don't think y o u can see them,' began the puzzled young man, glancing toward the half-open door of an inner room. The child's face grew paler. c Ch, I must see them, I must ! ' she cried, the clear, cultured little voice unconsciously raised in her distress. ' I must see them. It is so important, and I have come so far.' ' Show her in,' said a \oice from the inner chamber. The young man strode to the dooir. ' It's only a poor chrtd, sir,' he remarked, deferentially, with, however, a laclc cf assurance in his undertone. ' Show her in/ the -voice repeated. Tho young man signed to the child, who entered quickly, and the door was closed behind her. She found herself in a large, handsomely furnished apartment, with more of the priviate library than office about it. She bowed slightly to its only occupant, a middle-aged man with iron gray hair and shrewd, kind eyes ; then adswiftly with outs' retched hand. ' It is very good of you to see me,' she began ; 'are you Mr. Marsham or Mr. Reeves ? ' ' My name is James Mar ham,' he returned, politely, taking the proffered hand and striving to conceal any amusement or surprise that he might feel. « May I ask why you wanted to sr c me ? ' ' I have come to communicate with you about Philip d'Arcy Desborouph. I want to learn about the something to Ms advantage,' the Eldest explained, keeping strictly to the text of the advertisement, as beilig likely to provo most ready to tho comprehension of a solicitor. 1 See,' she added, placing liefore him the soaked newspaper, and pointing with shading finger to the words. Mr. Marsham's amazement and interest in his small client grew momeoitari'y deeper. 1 Then who are you, my— little lady ? ' he asked, regarding; the child more observantly, noting the small, shapely hands, tfos refined beauty of the delicate features, and— the very, very shabby clothes. 'I am his eldest daught-r,' she made answer, with rrode?t piide. ' I am Pauline d'Arcy Desborough.' There was a pause. ' Your father is to te congratulated,' Mr. Marsham returned, ' if, indeed, he proves to be the right man of that name— it is a very handsome fortune. But may I asc why he allowed a little eirl lil-e you— what is ihe matter, my clear ? ' He broke off abruptly and sprang to his feet. The Elides t had suddenly seated herself and turned very while. For a few moments the room grew dark, so dark that even the kind face that was bent o/ver her faded away as she _gazed at it. Then she dimly heard the clink of glass against gless, and was vaguely aware that, the kindly solicitor was holding wine to her lips. ' Drink it, my dear,' he was saying ; ' the excitement has been too much for you. and— bless me, what is this? The child is soaked through.' As she roused herself to take the wine Mr. Marsham slipped the cloak from her shoulders and gently removed her hat. These he placed before the fire to dry, .and proceeding to furnish with numerous cushions the easiest chair that' the room afforded, bade the child rest herself. Then sounding a little bell that stood upon his writing table, be told the clerk who answeredrthe , summons to send for some sandwiches. The foo.d was^ijuickly' brought, and the Eldest fell to with avidity." 1 I was rather- tirod and hungry,' she explained -presently. 'The walk was a lon a; one, five or six , miles, I should think ; and I don't fc<elieve I had any breakfast.* 1 Why not ? ' Mr. Marsha m asked, somewhat bluntly. 'I. don't, think 1 wan+.ed any,' she rejoined simply. ' • I was thinking too much of the something. /to 'his .advantage, you know. Besides, .Claude's egg. was , musty, and I gave him mine,' she added, with sudden recb'llec--tion. cHe an<d Cyril go to school ; they - must have a good meal.'

Mr. Marsham regarded the daughter of Philip d'Arcy Desborough. as she sat very much at her ease among the cushions in his aimchair, steadfastly returning his gaze with iarge, grave eyes. -The color was stealing back.to her face— she was wonderfully pretty, he thought. Ilis own little daughter, had she lived x -would have been about her age. " . - ' 1 Tell me,' he said, gently, after a pause,' why not your father write, or call himself, concerning this business ? ' ~ ~ --.:--. 1 He does not know about it,'- the Eldest explained eagerly. ' I— l thought 1 would find out the truth so as to save Mm from being terribly disappointed if— if it somehow came to nothing^' - . ■- '' v And she related at length. how_Jt chanced that she saw the advertisement, and the subsequent accident to the newspaper ; and how she had followed the dark green omnl /jses till she had at last arrived at the oflfice of Messrs. Marsham- and Reeves, Solicitors. • And do you know,' she ended with a little sigh of comfort and satisfaction, ' you are not a bit what I thought a solicitor would be. I don't know Mr. Reeves, of course, but you are net a bit like one. I have always had a dread of solicitors as a class, ' she amended, quickly, fearing to> have hurt Mr. Marsham's feelings. The solicitor in question looked much amused, despite his concern for the brave little girl. t ' But your brothers,' he pursued. • Could not one of them have saved you this—' ' Oh, 1 am the Eldest,' she interposed, hastening to vindicate the absent. l BesideS, I dent go to, school ' she added, with another and sadder little sigh. ' But about the fortune,' she continued, 'it must have been either Aunt Lavinia or Uncle Hubert. I coujd judge better which of them it was who left it Jto father if you could telj me the amount of it— by the year, you know.' ' Let me ask one question before ac-swerine you 'he said. ' Where do, or did, these relations live?" 4 Shropshire,' the Eldest made answer without an instant's hesitation. ' There are two great country seats belonging to the-d'Arcy Desboroughs in Shropshire —seats are extra; big houses, as I daresay you know— and Aunt La,vini a lives in one and Uncle Hubert in the other, and they hate each other. Do you know which has died ? ' she asked anxiously. ' Aunt Lavinia,' said Mr. Marsham. The Eldest was about to speak, when the clock upon the mantelpiece struck twelve. She sprang ud in dismay. & r 1 I must go,' she said, beginning to wrap the still damp cloak about her. 'It takes two hours—the walk— and I have not done the marketing yet ! Oh, dear what will mother think ? ' Mr. Marsham rose also. ' Yqu must not put on that damp cloak,' he said decidedly. ' One of my clerks shall take you home in a cab— and this will serve to keep you warm.' He took from a curtained niche in the waJl a 'mian's overcoat. ' 'It is a spare one,' he added, in answer to ber remonstrance. ' Do you mean you have ? ' she asked suspici- ' ously. •Or do the two hanging there belong \o Mr. Reeves ? ' ° ' One is his, fotat I keep two here, 1 explained Mr. Marsham, turning away and pulling at his moustache.," Then he rang the bell. « Call a cab,' he said to the young man who attended. - ' I am sorry not to have seen Mr. Reeves ' the Eldest remarked politely, fastening on her hat. * I suppose he is interviewing some one else. Did you say a cerk u TO to go with me ? ' she asked wistfully. • I should so much, much rather ' you came yourself ! ' and she slipped' a persuasive little hand into his. . Mr. Marsham glanced at the table, with its pile of interrupted correspondence, then at the child's upturned - face. ' Very well,' he said. • Since you wish it, I wilfaccompany you.' The cab was announced, and the Eldest,' enveloped in the great coat, trailed through the cuter ,office, followed by the solicitor bearing the little damp cloak upon his arm, to the profound astonishment of the clerk. . - It seemed a long way, even by cab, and the Eldest,' sat still, lost -in silent enjoyment. Presently they .-en- * tered the neighbioirhood of the shops, and she was - re- - minded of her neglected marketing. - ■ .'■ • Will you tell the man to stop a moment at the next greengrocer's?' she fegfeed of her companion r the rest of the things can wait, but I must just go t'liere. ■ - ~~ . She struggled out of her coat, and made her way into the shop, presently to emerge with an enormbus cabbage in her arms. 'It will go nicely on the seat , be- ■ , tween us,' she announced; cheerfully, in answer to 'the"

disconcerted expression of the solicitor, ' aruT if it bothers you I can take it on my lap.' A few minutes later there arrived at Mo. 65 street, to the no small amazement of : Martha/ the maid, a cab, from which the Eldest sedately alighted -wearing cloakwisq a garment the shoulders of which r&aehed nea£ ly to her elbows, bearing a cabbage, and accompanied by a strange gentleman-. ' * Only half-a-crown, sir.? ' the driver murmured, i - - « Give- him anotlfer,' pleaded the Eldest, compassionately, with a queenly gesture of the hand. l I have one in my moneybox upstairs, if you don't mind all'peh--nies and halfpennies.' . ' - Which- most lordly generosity went to~staow that the Eldest was beginning to -realise the new . life that was opening before her, and was prepared to live it worthily.— 1 Catholic News.' >