A Plucky Girl

"Nonsense! that cavalier of hers, that delightful young man, how handsome and distinguished looking he is! will take care of her. What do you say his name is – Randolph, Randolph – let me think, it is a good name. Do you know anything about him?"

"Nothing whatever, he happens to be one of our boarders," I replied. "He has taken a fancy to mother, and gave us tickets and brought us to this box to-night."

Jasmine looked me all over.

"I must say you have not at all the appearance of a young woman who has stepped down in the social scale," she remarked. "What a pretty dress that is, and you have a nicer colour than ever in your cheeks. Do you know that you are a very handsome girl?"

"You have told me so before, but I detest compliments," was my brusque rejoinder.

"Oh! I can see that you are as queer and eccentric as ever. Now I tell you what it is, it is my opinion that you're not poor at all, and that you are doing all this for a freak."

"And suppose that were the case, what difference would it make?" I inquired.

"Oh! in that case," answered Lady Thesiger, "your friends would simply think you eccentric, and love you more than ever. It is the fashion to be eccentric now, it is poverty that crushes, you must know that."

"Yes," I answered with bitterness, "it is poverty that crushes. Well, then, from that point of view we are crushed, for we are desperately poor. But in our present nice comfortable house, even contaminated as we are by our paying guests, we do not feel our poverty, for we have all the good things of life around us, and the whole place seems very flourishing. Why don't you come to see us, Jasmine?"

"I am afraid you will want me to recommend my friends to go to you, and I really cannot, Westenra, I cannot."

"But why should you not recommend them?"

"They will get to know that you were, that you belonged, that you" – Jasmine stopped and coloured high. "I cannot do it," she said, "you must not expect it."

"I won't," I replied with some pride.

"But all the same, I will come some morning," she continued. "You look so nice, and Mr. Randolph is so – by the way, what Randolph is he? I must find out all about him. Do question him about the county he comes from."

I did not answer, and having said good-bye to Jasmine, returned to our own box.

The play came to an end, and we went home. Mother had gone up to her room. Mr. Randolph and I found ourselves for a moment alone.

"This evening has done her good," he said, glancing at me in an interrogative fashion.

"Are you talking of mother?" I replied.

"Yes, you must see how much brighter she appeared. Do you think it did really help her?"

"I do not understand you," I replied; "help her? She enjoyed it, of course."

"But can't you see for yourself," he continued, and his voice was emphatic and his eyes shone with suppressed indignation, "that your mother is starving. She will not complain; she is one of the best and sweetest women I have ever met, but all the same, I am anxious about her, this life does not suit her – not at all."

"I am sure you are mistaken; I do not think mother is as miserable as you make her out to be," I replied. "I know, of course, she enjoyed this evening."

"She must have more evenings like this," he continued; "many more, and you must not be angry if I try to make things pleasant for her."

"Mr. Randolph," I said impulsively, "you puzzle me dreadfully. I cannot imagine why you live with us; you do not belong to the class of men who live in boarding-houses."

"Nor do you belong to the class of girls who keep boarding-houses," he replied.

"No, but circumstances have forced mother and me to do what we do. Circumstances have not forced you. It was my whim that we should earn money in this way. You don't think that I was cruel to mother. She certainly did not want to come here, it was I who insisted."

"You are so young and so ignorant," he replied.

"Ignorant!" I cried.

"Yes, and very young." He spoke sadly. "You cannot see all that this means to an older person," he continued. "Now, do not be angry, but I have noticed for some time that your mother wants change. Will you try to accept any little amusements I may be able to procure for her in a friendly spirit? I can do much for her if it does not worry you, but if you will not enjoy her pleasures, she will not be happy either. Can you not understand?"

I looked at him again, and saw that his face was honest and his eyes kind.

"May I give your mother these little pleasures?" he continued; "she interests me profoundly. Some day I will tell you why I have a special reason for being interested in your mother. I cannot tell you at present, but I do not want you to misunderstand me. May I make up to her in a little measure for much that she has lost, may I?"

"You may," I answered; "you are kind, I am greatly obliged to you. I will own that I was cross for a moment – you hurt my pride; but you may do what you like in future, my pride shall not rise in a hurry again." I held out my hand, he took it and wrung it. I ran upstairs, mother was sitting before her fire. She looked sweet, and her eyes were bright, and there was a new strength in her voice.

"We have had a delightful evening," she said. "I hope you are not tired, my darling."

"I am quite fresh," I answered. "I am so pleased you enjoyed it."

"I did, dearest; did you?"

"Yes, and no," I answered; "but if you are happy I am."

"Sit down by me, Westenra. Let us talk a little of what has just happened."

I humoured her, of course. Mr. Randolph's words had rather alarmed me. Did he see more ill-health about mother than I had noticed? was he seriously anxious about her? But now as she sat there she seemed well, very well, not at all tired, quite cheerful, and like her own self. She took my hand.

Jane – dear, active, industrious Jane – had gone early to bed, but a little supper had been left ready for mother. She tasted some of the jelly, then laid the spoon down by her plate.

"You were rude to Mr. Randolph at dinner, West," she said.

"I am sorry if I vexed you," I answered.

"But what had he done to annoy you?"

"I could not bear him to send that carriage. It was so unsuitable, servants in livery and those splendid horses; and all the boarders did stare so. It seemed quite out of keeping with our present lot. But never mind, Mummy, he may bring any carriage – the Lord Mayor's, if you like – only don't look so unhappy." I felt the tears had come into my voice, but I took good care they should not reach my eyes. I bent and kissed mother on her cheek.

"You want your old life, your dear old life," I said, "and your old comforts. I am very happy, and I want you to be the same. If I have made a mistake, and you are injured by this, it will break my heart."

"I am not injured at all, I am happy," she said.

"You like Mr. Randolph?"

"I do. He belongs to the old life."

"Then he is no mystery to you?"

"I take him quite simply, as a good-natured fellow, who has plenty of money, and is attracted by our rather queer position," she answered, "that is all. I don't make mysteries where none may exist."

"Then I will do likewise," I said cheerfully.