CHAPTER V.AN INDIAN LETTER.
“Great, great news, girls!” cried Jessie, waving the letter over her head. “Mrs. Brande—I mean Aunt Sally—has written to ask one of us to go out and live with her, and she seems quite certain that her offer will be accepted, for she encloses a cheque for outfit and passage-money. It is a short invitation, too; whoever elects to see India must start within the next fortnight.”
Honor and Fairy gazed at one another incredulously, and Fairy’s delicate complexion changed rapidly from pink to crimson, from crimson to white.
“I’ll read it to you,” continued Jessie,sitting down as she spoke. “The writing is peculiar, and some of the words are only underlined four times. Ahem!
“‘Rookwood, Shirani.“‘Dear Sister-in-law,“‘It is not often that I take up my pen, but I have something most important to say to you. I am not as young as I was, and I feel the want of some sort of company. Pelham is away a good deal, and I am left alone with Ben; he is the best-hearted creature in the world, and knows every word I say, but he can’t talk, nor help in the housekeeping, nor go to balls and church, being only a dog. What would you think of letting me have one of your girls? You have three, and might spare one. Indeed, three unmarried daughters must be a really terrible anxiety to any mother. We expect to be home in about a year, so if the worst comes to the worst, you will have her back again in twelve months’ time. Whoever you send,you may be sure I will be a mother to her, and so will Pelham. She shall have the best of everything in the way of society and clothes, and I guarantee that she only knows thenicest beaux, and that she will be very happy. The hot weather is coming on, and travelling after April is dangerous, both by land and sea, so I would like you to send her as soon as possible. She ought to start not later than a fortnight after you receive this, otherwise, it will be no use her coming at all. She could not set out again till October, and it would not be worth her while to come to us for six months. Pel encloses a cheque for her passage, and thirty-five pounds extra for boxes, gloves, petticoats, etc. I prefer to devise her dressesmyself, and will turn her out smart. No doubt you are not in the way of seeing the new fashions, and we are uncommonly dressy out here. If she could be in Bombay by themiddle of April, I could meet her at Allahabad and bring her up, for I don’t approve of girls travellingalone. Pel is anxious, too, and hopes you won’t refuse us. You know he has a good deal in his power; your girls are hisnext-of-kin, and a nod is as good as awinkto a blind horse—of course, not meaning thatyouare a blind horse. This place is gay in the season, and has plenty of tamashas; as for snakes, there is no such thing; and with regard to climate, you can make yourselfquiteeasy.“‘The climatological conditions of these hill-districts are a most important element in their physical geography, and will therefore require to be treated at considerable length. An extensive discussion of the meteorology cannot be attempted, but sufficient data have already been collected to serve as a basis for general description of the climate. In this respect the Himalayas, on account of their less distance from the equator, present many points ofadvantageas compared with the Alps and other European mountains.’” (The above, with the exception of the italics, hadbeen boldly copied from a gazetteer found in Mr. Brande’s writing-room.)“‘There is generally a fair sprinkling of young men, and of course we entertain a great deal. She shall have a nice quiet pony, and a newrickshaw, so we shall expect her without fail. Love to your daughters, and especially toourone.“‘Yours truly,“‘Sarabella Brande.’
“‘Rookwood, Shirani.
“‘Dear Sister-in-law,
“‘It is not often that I take up my pen, but I have something most important to say to you. I am not as young as I was, and I feel the want of some sort of company. Pelham is away a good deal, and I am left alone with Ben; he is the best-hearted creature in the world, and knows every word I say, but he can’t talk, nor help in the housekeeping, nor go to balls and church, being only a dog. What would you think of letting me have one of your girls? You have three, and might spare one. Indeed, three unmarried daughters must be a really terrible anxiety to any mother. We expect to be home in about a year, so if the worst comes to the worst, you will have her back again in twelve months’ time. Whoever you send,you may be sure I will be a mother to her, and so will Pelham. She shall have the best of everything in the way of society and clothes, and I guarantee that she only knows thenicest beaux, and that she will be very happy. The hot weather is coming on, and travelling after April is dangerous, both by land and sea, so I would like you to send her as soon as possible. She ought to start not later than a fortnight after you receive this, otherwise, it will be no use her coming at all. She could not set out again till October, and it would not be worth her while to come to us for six months. Pel encloses a cheque for her passage, and thirty-five pounds extra for boxes, gloves, petticoats, etc. I prefer to devise her dressesmyself, and will turn her out smart. No doubt you are not in the way of seeing the new fashions, and we are uncommonly dressy out here. If she could be in Bombay by themiddle of April, I could meet her at Allahabad and bring her up, for I don’t approve of girls travellingalone. Pel is anxious, too, and hopes you won’t refuse us. You know he has a good deal in his power; your girls are hisnext-of-kin, and a nod is as good as awinkto a blind horse—of course, not meaning thatyouare a blind horse. This place is gay in the season, and has plenty of tamashas; as for snakes, there is no such thing; and with regard to climate, you can make yourselfquiteeasy.
“‘The climatological conditions of these hill-districts are a most important element in their physical geography, and will therefore require to be treated at considerable length. An extensive discussion of the meteorology cannot be attempted, but sufficient data have already been collected to serve as a basis for general description of the climate. In this respect the Himalayas, on account of their less distance from the equator, present many points ofadvantageas compared with the Alps and other European mountains.’” (The above, with the exception of the italics, hadbeen boldly copied from a gazetteer found in Mr. Brande’s writing-room.)
“‘There is generally a fair sprinkling of young men, and of course we entertain a great deal. She shall have a nice quiet pony, and a newrickshaw, so we shall expect her without fail. Love to your daughters, and especially toourone.
“‘Yours truly,“‘Sarabella Brande.’
“Now, what do you think of that?” inquired Jessie, looking alternately at her two staring sisters.
“I say that it is a hoax, of course! Some joke of yours, Jessie,” returned Honor, with a playful snatch at the letter. “What is all that gibberish about Uncle Pelham being a mother to one, and mother not being a blind horse, and the climatological condition of the hills, not to mention the snakes and thebeaux? You ought to be ashamed—I could have done it better myself.”
“Read it—examine the post-mark,” said Jessie, now flinging it on the table.
Yes, there was no room for doubt; it was abona-fideIndian epistle. As Honor turned it over critically, she suddenly exclaimed—
“Have you seenthis—the gem of the whole production—the postscript?”
Both sisters bent forward eagerly, and there, just at the top of the last and otherwise blank sheet, was scribbled as a hasty afterthought—
“P.S.—Be sure you send theprettyone.”
“She must be a most original old person,” said Honor, with sparkling eyes. “And, in the name of Dr. Johnson, what is a ‘tamasha’?”
“Ask me something easier,” rejoined Jessie.
“Then what does mother say to this remarkable invitation?”
“You might know better than to ask that!” broke in Fairy, who had been listening with evident impatience. “Inthis family it is, ‘What does Jessie say?’ Whatdoyou say, Jess?”
“I say, never refuse a good offer. It is only for twelve months; and, of course, one of us must go!”
“Then, willyougo?” inquired Fairy, with elevated brows.
“Am I the pretty one?” Jessie demanded sarcastically. “I should be bundled back by the next steamer.”
“No, of course; I never thought of that,” rejoined her sister, meditatively. “I am the pretty one; there has never been any question of that—has there, girls?”
“No, never,” returned Jessie, in her most matter-of-fact tone, and she and Honor exchanged stealthy glances.
For some seconds Fairy seemed buried in thought, as she drew patterns on the table-cloth with a fork. At last she looked up, and exclaimed—
“It is only for twelve months as you say, Jess; twelve months soon fly round.” And she threw back her shawl, and leanther elbows on the table. “Never refuse a good offer—such as a pony, a rickshaw—whatever that is—the new dresses, the best society, the bestbeaux!” and she burst into a peal of shrill laughter, as she exclaimed, “Do you know, girls, that I think I shall go!”
A pause, the result of utter stupefaction, followed this unexpected announcement.
“Yes,” she continued, with increased animation, “I believe I should like it, of all things. The idea grows on me. I am thrown away here. What is the use of a pretty face if it is never seen? Did she saythirty-fivepounds for outfit? I can make that go a long way. I don’t take yards of stuff, like you two giantesses. My tailor-made and my spring dress are new. I’ll just run up and talk it over with the mater.” And she pushed back her chair, and bustled out of the room.
Jessie and Honor remained gazing at one another across the table, in dead suggestive silence, which was at last brokenby Jessie, who said in a tone of quiet despair—
“I wish that ridiculous letter had never come. At first I thought it a capital thing. I thought you ought to accept.”
“I!” cried Honor; “and, pray, why should you selectme?”
“For half a dozen excellent reasons; you are pretty, young, bright, and popular. You have a knack of making friends. All the people about here and in the village would rather haveyourlittle finger than the rest of us put together. You walk straight into their hearts, my love, and therefore you are the most suitable member of this family to be despatched to India to ingratiate yourself with our rich relations.”
“Your fine compliments are wasted, Jess—your ‘butter’ thrown away—for I am not going to India.”
“No; and Fairy has ere this selected her steamer and travelling costume; if she has made up her mind to go, nothing willstop her—and Uncle Pelham and Aunt Sally have never been told that Fairy is—is—so small. Whatwillthey say?” regarding her sister with awestruck eyes and a heightened colour.
What, indeed, would Mrs. Brande—who was already boasting of her niece from England, and loudly trumpeting the fame of the lovely girl she expected—say to Fairy? What would be her feelings when she was called upon to welcome a remarkably pretty littledwarf?
“It must be prevented,” murmured Honor. “She cannot be allowed to go.”
“Is Fairy ever prevented from doing what she wishes?” asked Jessie, with a solemn face.
To this pertinent question her sister could find no adequate reply. After a pause she rose and said—
“Let us go upstairs, and hear what she is saying to mother.”
Mrs. Gordon was sitting up in bed with a flushed face and anxious expression,listening to the brilliant description of Fairy’s future career in India.
Fairy, with both elbows on the bed, and her pointed chin in her hands, was rapidly enumerating her new dresses, and wondering how soon they would be ready, declaring how fortunate it was that she had a quantity of patterns in the house, and that if her mother would only advance twenty pounds she could do wonders. She talked so incessantly, and so volubly, that no one had a chance of advising, objecting, or putting in one single word. Her mother and sisters listened in enforced, uneasy silence, to the torrent of this little creature’s almost impassioned eloquence.
“It will take a fortnight to get ready,” she said. “This is the fifteenth of March; what a scurry there will be! You two girls will have to sew your fingers to the bone—won’t they, mother?”
Her mother faltered a feeble assent.
“I shall want at least twelve gowns and half a dozen hats. I must go into Hastingsto-morrow.” She paused at last, with scarlet cheeks, and quite breathless.
“There is nearly a week before the mail goes out,” ventured Jessie; “and it is rather too soon to decide yet. The letter only came an hour ago, and there is much to be considered, before mother can make up her mind as to which of us she can spare, and——”
“The whole thing isquitesettled,” interrupted Fairy in her sharpest key—Jessie was not her favourite sister—“only you are always so fond of interfering and managing every one, from mother down. Aunt Sara expressly asked for the pretty one; you saw it in black and white, and mother says I am to please myself—did you not, mother?” appealing to her parent, whose eyes sank guiltily before the reproachful gaze of her eldest daughter. Nevertheless she bravely sighed out—
“Yes, Fairy, I suppose so.”
“There!” cried Fairy, triumphantly. “You see mother has decided, and I havedecided. I am not like some people, who take weeks to make up their minds, especially when moments are precious. I must write a quantity of letters for the early post. Honor, do you remember the name of Mrs. Travers’ dressmaker? and do you think I should get a habit and riding-boots?”