Chapter 56 The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls by L. T. Meade
A PALACE BEAUTIFUL
Hannah Martin had come up with her young ladies to London, and she also was invited by Mrs. Ellsworthy to come to her house. The girls all thought Hannah very much altered; they could not understand her queer illusions, or her mysterious little nods, or in particular the way she used to stare at Jasmine, and say under her breath, "Yes, yes, as like as two peas. What a blind old woman I was not to see it when I clapped eyes on him."
"I cannot make out what Hannah is always muttering," Jasmine said to her sisters. "Who is it I am so remarkably like. To judge from the way Hannah frowns and shakes her head, and then smiles, the fact of this accidental likeness seems to have a very disturbing effect upon her."
"I know whom you are like, Jasmine," said little Daisy. "I've seen it for a long time. You are the very image of my dear Prince. You have got just the same colored eyes, and just the same curly hair, and both your foreheads are broad and white. It's perfectly natural," continued Daisy, "for you are both geniuses, and all geniuses must have a look of each other."
Hannah had old-fashioned ideas on many subjects. One of these was that people could not remain too long in mourning. She liked very deep black, and wished those who had lost relations to wear it for a long, long time. The girls, therefore, were quite amazed when she suggested that they should all go to Mrs. Ellsworthy in white. They began to consider her quite an altered Hannah; but Jasmine took her advice, and bought many yards of soft flowing muslin, which the old servant helped her dear young ladies to make up.
At last the day and hour arrived when, as Primrose said sorrowfully, "Our fate is to be sealed and we are to bid 'Good-bye' to dear independence."
The girls, looking as sweet as girls could look, arrived at Mrs. Ellsworthy's at a fairly early hour in the afternoon. The good little lady received them with marked tenderness, but said, in an almost confused manner, and by no means with her usual self-possession that a slight change had been found necessary in the afternoon's programme, and that the meeting of friends and acquaintances to hear their future plans was not to take place at her house after all.
"We are to go to another house not far from this," she said, "indeed, only a stone's throw away. It is so close that we will walk it. Come, Daisy, I see a number of questions in your eyes, but they shall all be answered presently. Take my hand now, and let us lead the way. The other house is very pretty, but it is smaller than mine."
The other house was quite close to Mrs. Ellsworthy's luxurious mansion. It was built more in the cottage shape, was much smaller, and had a charming little garden and grounds round it. The hall door opened into a porch, which was covered with roses, so that though the house was really in London, the effect was quite that of the country. Standing in the porch, and looking extremely pretty in its flickering light and shade, stood Poppy Jenkins, in the neatest of handmaiden's attire, and as the girls all came into the shade of the cool porch, Noel himself, looking somewhat pale, and with a curious agitation in his manner, came out to meet them.
"This is my house," he said, "and Poppy is engaged as one of the servants. I thought we might all meet here to discuss the new plans. Poppy, will you take the young ladies to their room? I've had a room prepared," he continued, blushing slightly, "for I thought Daisy might like to rest a little."
Poppy instantly tripped forward, and in quite a demure manner took the girls up some broad stairs, and into a long, rather low-ceilinged room on the first floor. There were three little white beds in the room, and three toilet tables, and, in short, three sets of everything. It was the prettiest, the brightest, the most lovely room the girls had ever seen. It contained luxury, and neatness, and comfort, and refinement, for beautiful pictures were placed on the walls, and flowers peeped in at the windows, and the furniture was of that sort which can best accommodate girls' pretty dresses and knick-knacks.
"What a room!" said Jasmine. "Why, it's just like a girls' room! Any one would suppose Mr. Noel had sisters."
Daisy began to skip about, and to poke her little fingers amongst the curiosities and treasures which were scattered broadcast. Primrose became silent, and walked over to one of the windows, and Poppy, suddenly dropping her demure air, said in a voice of ecstasy—
"He's a lovely young man, and I'm engaged here permanent, and it's no more Sarah Ann, nor Sarah Jane, but Poppy I'm to be from this time and for ever. Oh, Miss Primrose, don't it make you real happy even to take off your bonnet in a room like this?"
"I do feel happy," said Primrose, in that slow voice of hers. "I feel happy, and I can't tell why. I am just going to give up my independence, and I ought to be miserable, but at the present moment I have a peculiar sense of rejoicing."
"And so have I," said Jasmine, "I could skip all day long; and as to Eyebright, she looks fit to dance this very moment."
"I'm happy because I'm with the Prince," said Daisy; "that's always quite enough for me."
Then the three sisters linked their arms round one another, and went downstairs.
In Noel's very lovely drawing-room many friends were assembled. Mr. and Mrs. Ellsworthy, of course, were present; also Mr. Danesfield, Miss Martineau, and Miss Egerton. Old Hannah stood in the background and when the three pretty sisters came into the room they were surrounded by eager and loving faces, and were most warmly welcomed. Mrs. Ellsworthy, it is true, still appeared much agitated; she had an intense longing to take Jasmine in her arms and cry over her, but she had, of course, too much sense to do anything so unsuitable and silly. The girls were asked to sit down, and Mr. Ellsworthy, who had been elected spokesman, stood up, cleared his throat, and looked at his wife. Twice he made an attempt at utterance; finally he said in a voice which trembled—"My dear, I can't manage it—you had better do it yourself."
"I presume you are addressing me, Joseph," said Mrs. Ellsworthy. "I—I—this is unexpected; but anything to get it over. My dear girls, you have come here to-day to hear what we have arranged for you. We felt you could not go on as you have been doing."
"Impossible," here interrupted Mr. Danesfield. "They were the victims of thieves and rogues. The thing could not have gone on a day longer."
"So we made plans—very nice plans," continued Mrs. Ellsworthy. "It never occurred to us that they would be knocked on the head, crushed, obliterated. Oh, I am very happy, of course, but I could cry at having my plans spoiled a second time."
"I don't think they are really spoiled," said Primrose who had grown very white, and now rose to her feet. "I know I was proud about accepting help. I had such a longing to be independent. Perhaps I feel sore about accepting help still, but I have made up my mind; for all our sakes it is best. I submit—I give in—I am very grateful."
"Perhaps, Primrose," said Mrs. Ellsworthy, whose bright eyes were now full of tears, "I may convince you yet that you have no cause to feel sore, and that proud heart of yours will not be pained. I believe the help you need is coming to you three sisters in such a guise that you cannot fail but to accept it gladly, and as your natural right."
"It cannot quite be our natural right," said Primrose. "There are no possible circumstances under which it can be quite natural for girls to take money help from even the kindest friends who are not related to them."
"In this case there may even possibly be a relationship," proceeded Mrs. Ellsworthy. "Primrose, suppose that little brother who was lost long ago—little Arthur your mother called him—suppose he came here to-day, and said, 'I am grown up, and rich—I am the right person to help my sisters,' you would feel no soreness of heart at accepting help from your own brother, Primrose?"
"My own brother," repeated Primrose in a wistful and longing voice; "it is cruel to remind me of my brother. He was lost many, many years ago; he has probably long been dead."
"I should be the happiest girl in all the world if I could find my brother," here interrupted Jasmine; "I often dream of him at night; he must have been a darling little boy."
"But if he were to come here twenty times," said Daisy, "I could never love him better than I love the Prince."
There was quite a little buzz of admiration through the room when Daisy made this innocent little speech, and all eyes were turned on Arthur Noel. Then there was a pause. Mr. Ellsworthy was again heard to clear his throat, and no one seemed quite to know what to do next. Suddenly Hannah Martin broke the spell—
"Goodness gracious me!" she said, "how long are the darling young ladies to be kept in suspense? Miss Primrose, why, you have got a brother, and there he stands. Mr. Arthur, come and kiss your sisters, my dear. Oh, my darling, darling girls, it's perfectly, perfectly true; he's the boy your mother broke her heart about long ago."
The confusion and agitation which followed can scarcely be described—the joy of the sisters can scarcely be painted. Daisy took this wonderful and important discovery more coolly and calmly than the others.
"It doesn't make a bit of difference in my love to him," she said, "for I always loved him as if he were my brother."
"And now, Primrose," said Arthur, "you are mistress of this house, and please remember that visitors are coming here presently, and that you are to entertain them."
"Are we always to live with you, Arthur?" asked Jasmine. "It seems better than a dream. Oh, Arthur," she continued, not waiting for her brother's reply, "don't you remember how we made friends the very first moment we met? we must have always known, deep down in our hearts, that we were brother and sister."
"And this is to be our new Palace Beautiful," said Daisy, "and Poppy is to live here too. Oh, Primrose, do you not feel almost too happy?"
"I've given up my independence," said Primrose, "and yet I never felt more happy or more thankful."
The party that evening was a success. The astonishment of the good ladies from Penelope Mansion when they heard the wonderful news passed all bounds. Mrs. Dredge sat plump down on a chair, placed her fat hands on her lap, and fairly cried.
"Oh, if only my poor dear husband had lived to see this beautiful day," she said. "Young man, I have liked you from the first; you're the kind of young man whom my good husband would have rejoiced to be papa to."
Miss Slowcum sighed most deeply when she heard the news. "It's a touching romance," she said, "quite worthy of the olden times. I could imagine Mr. Noel—Mr. Mainwaring, I suppose we must call him now—as belonging to the old knights of chivalry. Yes, I am a person of discernment, and I long ago saw that the dear girls belonged to the upper ten."
"It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," said Mrs. Mortlock. "In this case, ladies and gentlemen, I beg to reverse the familiar words, for amid all your joy I have lost my 'continual reader.' She had her faults—no, I'm not going to deny that being young she had her faults—but she was ever good-natured, and she did her gossip chirrupy."
Of course the girls' future was now assured, for Arthur was a very rich man. Miss Egerton, at his earnest request, came to live with them, and they are now known to possess one of the happiest and brightest homes in London—in short, they live in a "Palace Beautiful."