The Channings. Henry Wood
much do you owe?” went on Roland.
“Oh, a twenty-pound note would pay my debts, and leave me something out of it,” said Arthur, in a joking tone. The fact was, that he did not owe a shilling to any one. “Jenkins, do you know what I am to set about next?” he continued; “I have filled in this lease.”
Jenkins was beginning to look amidst some papers at his elbow, in answer to the appeal; but at that moment Mr. Galloway entered, and despatched Arthur to get a cheque cashed at the bank.
CHAPTER VI. – LADY AUGUSTA YORKE AT HOME
“If you don’t put away that trash, Caroline, and go upstairs and practise, I’ll make you go! Strewing the table in that manner! Look what a pickle the room is in!”
The words came from Lady Augusta Yorke, a tall, dark woman, with high cheek-bones; and they were spoken at a height that might not have been deemed orthodox at court. Miss Caroline Yorke, a young demoiselle, with a “net” that was more frequently off her head than on it, slip-shod shoes, and untidy stockings, had placed a quantity of mulberry leaves on the centre table, and a silkworm on each leaf. She leisurely proceeded with her work, bringing forth more silkworms from her paper trays, paying not the least attention to her mother. Lady Augusta advanced, and treated her to a slight tap on the ear, her favourite mode of correcting her children.
“Now, mamma! What’s that for?”
“Do you hear me, you disobedient child? I will have this rubbish put away, I say. Goodness, Martha! don’t bring any one in here!” broke off Lady Augusta, as a maid appeared, showing in a visitor. “Oh, it is you, William! I don’t mind you. Come in.”
It was the Reverend William Yorke who entered. He was not altogether a favourite of Lady Augusta’s. Though only distantly related to her late husband, he yet bore the name of Yorke; and when he came to Helstonleigh (for he was not a native of the place), and became a candidate for a vacant minor canonry, Lady Augusta’s pride had taken fire. The minor canons were looked upon by the exclusives of the cathedral as holding a very inferior position amidst the clergy, and she resented that one belonging to her should descend to set up his place amongst them.
Mr. Yorke shook hands with Lady Augusta, and then turned to look at the leaves and silkworms. “Are you doing that for ornament, Caroline?”
“Ornament!” wrathfully cried Lady Augusta. “She is doing it to waste time, and to provoke me.”
“No, I am not, mamma,” denied Miss Caroline. “My poor silkworms never have anything but lettuce leaves. Tod brought these for me from the bishop’s garden, and I am looking at the silkworms enjoying the change.”
“Tod is in hot water,” remarked Mr. Yorke. “He was fighting with another boy as I came through the cloisters.”
“Then he’ll come home with his clothes torn, as he did the last time he fought!” exclaimed Lady Augusta, in consternation. “I think no one ever had such a set of children as mine!” she peevishly continued. “The boys boisterous as so many wild animals, and the girls enough to drive one crazy, with their idle, disobedient ways. Look at this room, William! encumbered from one end to the other! things thrown out of hand by Caroline and Fanny! As to lessons, they never open one. For three days I have never ceased telling Caroline to go and practise, and she has not attempted to obey me! I shall go out of my mind with one thing or another; I know I shall! Nice dunces they’ll grow up.”
“Go and practise now, Caroline,” said Mr. Yorke. “I will put your silkworms up for you.”
Caroline pouted. “I hate practising.”
He laid his hand gently upon her, gazing at her with his dark, pleasant eyes, reproachful now; “But you do not hate obeying your mamma? You must never let it come to that, Caroline.”
She suffered him to lead her to the door, went docilely enough to the drawing-room, and sat down to the piano. Oh, for a little better training for those children! Mr. Yorke began placing the silkworms in the trays, and Lady Augusta went on grumbling.
“It is a dreadful fate—to be left a widow with a heap of unruly children who will not be controlled! I must find a governess for the girls, and then I shall be free from them for a few hours in the day. I thought I would try and save the money, and teach them myself; but I might just as well attempt to teach so many little wild Indians! I am not fitted for teaching; it is beyond me. Don’t you think you could hear of a governess, William? You go about so much.”
“I have heard of one since I saw you yesterday,” he replied. “A young lady, whom you know, is anxious to take a situation, and I think she might suit you.”
“Whom I know?” cried Lady Augusta. “Who is it?”
“Miss Channing.”
Lady Augusta looked up in astonishment. “Is she going out as governess? That comes of losing this lawsuit. She has lost no time in the decision.”
“When an unpalatable step has to be taken, the sooner it is set about, the less will be the cost,” remarked Mr. Yorke.
“Unpalatable! you may well say that. This will be the climax, will it not, William?”
“Climax of what?”
“Of all the unpleasantness that has attended your engagement with Miss Channing—”
“I beg your pardon, Lady Augusta,” was the interruption of Mr. Yorke. “No unpleasantness whatever has attended my engagement with Miss Channing.”
“I think so, for I consider her beneath you; and, therefore, that it is nothing but unpleasant from beginning to end. The Channings are very well in their way, but they are not equal to the Yorkes. You might make this a pretext for giving her up.”
Mr. Yorke laughed. “I think her all the more worthy of me. The only question that is apt to arise within me is, whether I am worthy of her. As we shall never agree upon this point, Lady Augusta, it may not be worth while to discuss it. About the other thing? I believe she would make an admirable governess for Caroline and Fanny, if you could obtain her.”
“Oh, I dare say she would do that. She is a lady, and has been well educated. Would she want a large salary?”
“Forty guineas a year, to begin with.”
Lady Augusta interrupted him with a scream. “I never could give half of it! I am sure I never could. What with housekeeping expenses, and milliners’ bills, and visiting, and the boys everlastingly dragging money out of me, I have scarcely anything to spare for education.”
“Yet it is more essential than all the rest. Your income, properly apportioned, would afford—”
Another scream from Lady Augusta. Her son Theodore—Tod, familiarly—burst into the room, jacketless, his hair entangled, blood upon his face, and his shirt-sleeves in shreds.
“You rebellious, wicked fright of a boy!” was the salutation of my lady, when she could recover breath.
“Oh, it’s nothing, mamma. Don’t bother,” replied Master Tod, waving her off. “I have been going into Pierce, senior, and have polished him off with a jolly good licking. He won’t get me into a row again, I’ll bet.”
“What row did he get you into?”
“He’s a nasty, sneaking tattler, and he took and told something to Gaunt, and Gaunt put me up for punishment, and I had a caning from old Pye. I vowed I’d pay Pierce out for it, and I have done it, though he is a sight bigger than me.”
“What was it about?” inquired Mr. Yorke. “The damaged surplice?”
“Damaged surplice be hanged!” politely retorted the young gentleman, who, in gaining the victory, appeared to have lost his temper. “It was something concerning our lessons at the third desk, if you must know.”
“You might be civil, Tod,” said Lady Augusta. “Look at your shirt! Who, do you suppose, is going to mend that?”
“It can go unmended,” responded Master Tod. “I