Blanche: A Story for Girls

“I hope – ” she began, then stopped abruptly.

“There is your sister,” she said, but a curious expression came over her face, as she went on, “and – Archie Dunstan. – What an intrusion! How dared he?” she went on, to herself, in a lower tone. Stasy did not catch the words. She only saw the annoyance, almost indignation, on Hebe’s face.

But the next few minutes cleared up a good deal. Blanche hastened to her mother to tell of Herty’s accident and Mr Dunstan’s kindness, and Mrs Derwent was, naturally, eager in her thanks. Then she hurried in to see her boy for herself, and Blanche turned to Mr Dunstan.

“You said you wanted to see Lady Hebe; she is over there – standing by the other table.”

“Oh yes, thank you,” he answered. But he did not seem in any desperate hurry to speak to his old friend.

“I was thinking,” he began again, “that I might perhaps be of use about the doctor. It may be erring on the safe side to let him have a look at the boy’s ankle. I am driving home from East Moddersham, so I could easily stop at Blissmore on the way.”

“Thank you,” said Blanche. “I will see what my mother says.”

“Does she want to get rid of me?” thought Archie to himself.

However that may have been, Miss Derwent certainly gave him no excuse for lingering near her, so he strolled across to where Hebe was standing alone for the moment, as the girls had again dispersed.

She would not refuse to shake hands with him, but her usually sunny eyes were sparkling with indignation.

“Archie,” she said, before he had time to speak, “I could not have believed this of you. If you call it a good joke, I don’t!”

Archie looked at her calmly.

“My dear little lady,” he said, with kindly condescension, “it is not like you to pass judgment on a matter which you know nothing about.”

“I do know about it,” said Hebe. “I know what you said to me – that by hook or by crook you would manage to get here to-day. How you have managed it, I don’t know. I only know that you were not justified in doing anything of the kind.”

“I don’t allow that,” said Archie, nettled in spite of his coolness. “As it happens, my relation, at whose house I am staying, is the only person who has been decently civil to the Derwents at all.”

The colour mounted to Hebe’s face.

“You needn’t taunt me with that,” she said quickly. “I am not responsible, as you well know, for what Josephine does or does not do.”

“Did I say you were?” he replied, raising his eyebrows. “Nor do I take my own stand on my aunt’s behaviour in the matter. If you’ll be so good as to listen, I will tell you how I have come to be here to-day,” and he quickly related what had happened.

Hebe’s face relaxed.

“It is very extraordinary,” she said, half to herself. “And what were you doing prowling about the woods, pray?” she said, unable altogether to suppress a smile.

“Waiting for what fate might throw in my way,” he answered calmly.

Just then they caught sight of Mrs Derwent’s figure coming towards them. Archie started forward.

“If I thought he was in earnest!” thought Hebe to herself, as she followed him more deliberately.

Mr Dunstan’s offer of sending the doctor was accepted, as Herty still seemed in considerable pain, and soon after the whole party dispersed; Archie accompanying Hebe and Miss Milward to East Moddersham, where he had ordered his dog-cart to meet him.

Herty’s sprain proved no very serious matter; but during the next fortnight or so, it formed a plausible excuse for Mr Dunstan’s calling now and then to inquire how he was, and to bring him once or twice books or toys to amuse him while he had to lie still.

Mrs Derwent took a great liking to the young man, and so did Stasy, but he did not seem to get to know Blanche any better. Indeed, on one or two occasions he came and went without seeing her at all. Still, his visits made a little break in the monotony of life at Pinnerton Lodge. During the week or two, also, which preceded the East Moddersham family’s removal to town for the season, there were occasional meetings with Hebe at the vicarage, to discuss guild matters, into which Blanche threw herself with great thoroughness. Mrs Derwent, always sanguine, began to feel more cheerful as to things in general brightening by degrees.

But when Lady Hebe had left, and Mr Dunstan had no longer any excuse for lingering – Alderwood also being shut up – life seemed to return much to what it had been.

“I really don’t know what I shall do with myself,” said Stasy one day, “when the time comes for me to give up my regular lessons. I almost wish you were not so contented, Blanche; it is really rather irritating. If you would grumble too, things wouldn’t seem so bad.”

Blanche laughed.

“Do you know, I really don’t feel inclined to grumble,” she said, “especially now that I’ve got more to do I do find looking after these girls very interesting indeed.”

“You’re a prig,” said Stasy – “a prig or a saint; I’ve not yet made up my mind which.”

Blanche took no notice.

“Stasy,” she said, “I have got an idea in my head. It’s not quite a new one; some one proposed it before; but I can’t manage it unless you’ll help me, you’re so much cleverer about that sort of thing than I am.”

“What sort of thing?” said Stasy.

“Things that require neat-handedness and taste. It’s a millinery class for the girls I’m thinking of. It would be such a surprise to Lady Hebe when she comes back, to see them with neat, pretty hats. It is just the time they’re getting their summer ones, and they do wear such awful things.”

“And I daresay they pay a lot for them, too,” said Stasy.

“No doubt they do,” said Blanche; “and I don’t suppose one of them has the slightest idea of trimming anything neatly.”

Stasy was silent for a moment; then she said, with a little hesitation: “You’re very complimentary about my taste, Blanchie. But as to the actual work, I’m afraid I should not be much good. I know nothing about what may be called the ‘technique’ of the business. I couldn’t line or bind a hat neatly, for instance.”

“I’ve thought of that,” said Blanche eagerly; and, indeed, a great part of her interest in this new idea had to do with the occupation and amusement she had hoped it would give her sister. “I’ve thought about that, and I feel pretty sure that little Miss Halliday would help us. I’m going to Blissmore this afternoon, and I mean to ask her if she would teach us a little. Two or three lessons would give us all we need.”

Stasy brightened up.

“That would really be great fun,” she said. “Do let me go with you, Blanchie. Can we pay her for teaching us, do you think? Won’t it be at all like poaching on her manor?”

“Oh no,” said Blanche. “These girls are not the class who would ever get things from her; and, of course, however clever we become, we mustn’t leave off giving her our own work. That is to say, everything we don’t get from London. She will quite enter into it, I feel sure.”

And that very afternoon Blanche’s idea was carried out. They walked into Blissmore, and went to see Miss Halliday, who was always delighted to have a glimpse of them; and when Blanche unfolded her plan, the little milliner entered into it heartily.

“Of course,” said Blanche, “you must count it as if you were really giving us lessons. It would be quite unfair to take up your time for nothing.”

Miss Halliday hesitated, grew rather pink and nervous.

“I wish, I am sure, I could refuse any payment,” she said at last. “But to tell you the truth, Miss Derwent, things have not been going very well with me lately. There is a great increase of work in Blissmore, as new families keep coming, and, rather than lose the chance of increasing my customers, I had made up my mind to take a partner. After a great deal of inquiry and writing about it, I found what seemed the very person, unexceptionable in every way. She was to put a little money into the concern, and, above all, was said to be extremely clever and tasteful. Just what I wanted! For, you see, there is no denying that I may be getting a little old-fashioned; though I do think my work is always neat, and I use good materials. So I had my shop enlarged a little, and fresh painted, and a new mirror, and altogether went to a good deal of expense, when, just at the last moment, this poor girl – I can’t find it in my heart to blame her – had a sudden call to Australia, owing to some family troubles. I could have held her to the bargain, or made her pay up, but it went against me to do it, so I let her off. That was nearly two months ago, and here have I been ever since trying to find some one else. The season getting on too, more work coming in than I can manage, not daring to refuse any, for fear of it getting about, and leading to some other milliners starting!”

And Miss Halliday wiped away a tear which she could not altogether repress.

The sisters were full of sympathy.

“Poor Miss Halliday!” said Blanche, “I am so sorry.”

“I wish we could help you,” said Stasy impulsively. “Perhaps if you find us very clever, after you’ve taught us a little, we might come down now and then and help you, as if we were apprentices, you know! Wouldn’t it be fun, Blanchie?”