Digby Heathcote: The Early Days of a Country Gentleman's Son and Heir. Kingston William Henry Giles
heart to prevent them.”
I feel that I cannot do justice to worthy John’s peculiar provincial phraseology. Mrs Heathcote smiled. She did not think that John had paid her children any very great compliment. At last Digby and Julian came forth from the mud, without a single white spot about them – hands and face, and hair and clothes, all covered with mud. They were not at all pleased at being told to go into the house to be cleansed, for they were not nearly tired of their sport, but Mrs Heathcote was afraid of Digby’s catching cold, and was firm, though they pleaded hard to be allowed to remain.
“There mamma, there, see that huge pike,” exclaimed Digby, about to dart back again; “he’s one of the giant fellows we have been looking for all along, and thought he must have got out somewhere. I wonder you don’t feel inclined to jump in after him. There, they’ve caught him; he must be thirty pounds weight.”
Mrs Heathcote fairly laughed at the idea of her rushing into the mud in chase of a pike, but still Digby had to accompany her home. Whatever might have been his other delinquencies, he never had disobeyed her expressed wishes, for he loved her dearly. He and Julian, however, as they followed a little way behind, looked at the strange lady and thought that she had, in some way or other, something to do with their being called in. She was so ladylike and young, and nice-looking, and so different from what they had fancied the new governess was to be, that they never suspected that she was the awful and dreaded Miss Apsley.
Great was the dismay of Mrs Barker when the mud-besprinkled, or rather mud-covered children, made their appearance. Mrs Carter was summoned to give her assistance, and much soap and many tubs of hot-water were used before they were at all in their usual presentable condition. They scolded them much more severely than their mother had done. Poor little Gusty cried, and could not help fancying that he had been very naughty. When also Digby and Kate found that the lady with their mother was the new governess, and that it was owing to her arrival that they had been compelled to come in thus early, their hearts, in spite of her kind manner and nice looks, hardened towards her, and, instigated by Julian, they resolved to put into execution the plan which Kate had concocted. Mr Heathcote dined out that day, so the parlour dinner was soon over. Mrs Heathcote was fatigued, so lay down on the sofa and fell asleep. The boys had disappeared. The summer evening was drawing to a close. Now or never was the time. Kate had scarcely seen Miss Apsley.
“Will you come and look over the old house,” she said, at length, in a voice which trembled somewhat.
It was late, and getting dusk, but Miss Apsley was glad of an opportunity of having some conversation with her rather silent pupil, and consented readily.
Kate really was very much agitated, and repented of her undertaking before even she reached the picture gallery. She hurried through the other rooms; she felt that she was acting a treacherous part; she tried to talk, but her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth; still there was so much determination, or obstinacy some would have called it, in her composition, that she would not turn aside from her resolution. Miss Apsley guessed that there was something or other on her young friend’s mind, but made no remark. The gallery was reached. It was a long, wide, and high passage in the centre of the house, lighted at both ends and partially from the top. The portraits reached to the very roof, and looked very grim and dark – very few of them deserved much commendation as works of art. The gallery Kate thought looked more gloomy than ever; she could scarcely bring herself to utter a word.
“Come to the other end, marm,” at last she said in a faltering voice.
She could scarcely help running away and screaming even before she got to the portraits whose faces she had so ill-treated. She got up to them; she dared not look at them; she was certain that the eyes were rolling horribly. Miss Apsley walked calmly on. Kate thought that she saw the governess look first on one side, then on the other, but she was not certain. They reached the end of the gallery; there was a fine view from the window; the rich glow of that fine summer evening still lingered in the sky. Miss Apsley seemed to enjoy it very much, as she stood contemplating it for some time, till hill, and wood, and fields became so blended as to be scarcely distinguishable.
“We will now return to the drawing-room, Kate, if you please,” she said quietly.
Kate followed her. Again they reached the two portraits on the floor; there was a groan on one side, and what was meant for a sigh on the other. Kate was really frightened, and rushed off shrieking.
“Stop, stop, Kate, my dear, there is nothing to be alarmed about,” said Miss Apsley, in a calm voice. “Come back and see.”
As she spoke she caught hold of the nose of one of the portraits, which squeaked out “Oh, oh, oh!” Kate’s fancy was tickled, and she burst into a fit of laughter; her admiration, also, was much excited for her new governess. Digby came forth from behind the other portrait; Julian, whose nose had been caught literally in his own trap, drew it back as he did his tongue, which he had protruded as far as he could, and also came out looking very sheepish, without a word to say for himself.
Digby, however, in a manly way, at once said – “I beg pardon, Miss Apsley, I thought that we were going to play you a good trick, which would have frightened you very much; but I am glad it did not, and I am sure we are very sorry, and I hope you will forgive us.”
Miss Apsley’s calmness had won Digby’s admiration even in a greater degree than it had Kate’s.
“Yes, indeed I will,” she replied, pleased at his frankness. “It was silly and wrong in you, and the consequences might, in some instances, have been serious. I am bound to tell you this that I may warn you against playing such tricks in future; but as far as I am individually concerned I most heartily forgive you, and will entirely overlook the matter.”
Julian could not understand these sentiments, and thought Digby a very silly fellow to make what he called an unnecessary apology. They all went downstairs together, and then Kate took the governess to her room, and confessed that she had herself concocted the scheme which had so signally failed, and told her, indeed, all I have already described about the matter. With eager haste she undid, too, the apple-pie bed which Digby and Julian had made, and assuring her how different a person she was to what she expected, promised that she would never again attempt to play her another trick, and that she would be answerable that Digby would not either.
“Why did you come out and show yourself, Digby?” said Julian, when they were alone together. “I don’t understand your way of doing things; if you had groaned, as it was arranged, when that Miss Apsley and Kate first appeared, we should have put her to flight, and I should not have had my nose pulled – she knows how to pinch hard let me tell you.”
Digby confessed that she really was so nice a person that he did not like to frighten her, and that had he not undertaken to groan, he could not have brought himself to do so at all.
Julian only sneered at this, and said no more on the subject.
It was most unfortunate for Digby that he had at that time so evil a counsellor as Julian to turn him aside from the right course, in which Miss Apsley was so anxious and so well able to direct him. Often and often have boys been warned to avoid bad companions. Let me assure my readers, that they are the emissaries of the evil one, and that their vocation is to destroy, both in body and soul, all who come under their influence.
Chapter Three
There was a large gathering at Bloxholme Hall, both from far and near, of most of the principal families in the county. The house was full of those acquaintances of Mr and Mrs Heathcote who lived too far off to return the same night, but numbers came who were to drive home again the same evening.
There was an archery meeting in the morning, and then a dinner and a dance afterwards. Julian and Digby voted it very slow work. It was, probably, so to them. Kate liked the archery, and especially the dancing, for gentlemen asked her to dance, and chatted with her, and she skipped about like a little fairy, as merrily as possible. The boys had not gone in to the dinner, but they had helped themselves plentifully to the good things on which they could lay hands, and Julian especially had got hold of some