Chapter 24 The School Queens by L. T. Meade
A VISIT TO THE GROCER
James Martin abhorred the aristocracy – so he said. Nevertheless, he greatly admired his elegant wife in her faded beauty. He liked to hear her speak, and he made some effort to copy her “genteel pronunciation.” He also, in his inmost heart, admired Maggie as a girl of spirit, although not a beautiful one. He had his own ideas with regard to female loveliness, and, like all men, was impressed and attracted by it.
On this special foggy day, as he was standing behind his counter busily engaged attending to a customer who was only requiring a small order to be made up, he gave a visible start, raised his eyes, dropped his account-book, let his pencil roll on to the floor, and stared straight before him. For somebody was coming into the shop – somebody so very beautiful that his eyes were dazzled and, as he said afterwards, his heart melted within him. A radiant-looking girl, with wonderful blue eyes and hair of the color of pure gold, a girl with a refined face – most beautifully dressed – although Martin could not quite make out in what fashion she was apparelled – came quickly up to the counter and then stood still, waiting for some one to attend to her. The other men in the shop also saw this lovely vision, and an attendant of the name of Turtle sprang forward to ask what he could do.
“I want to see Mr. Martin,” said the silvery voice.
Martin felt pleased, and said sotto voce, “Chuck it, Turtle; you’re out of it, old boy.” A minute later he was standing before Aneta, inquiring in a trembling voice what he could do for her.
“I want to order fifty pounds of tea to be made up in half-pound packets and sent to my aunt, Lady Lysle, 16b Eaton Square,” said Aneta. “The tea will be paid for on delivery, and please let it be the very best. I also want a hundred pound-packets of the best currants, and a hundred pound-packets of the best sugar.”
“Demerara, miss, or loaf?” inquired Martin, tremblingly putting down the order.
“Loaf, I think,” said Aneta. “Will you kindly send everything within the next day or two to Eaton Square, 16b, to Lady Lysle?”
“I will enter her ladyship’s name in my book. Yes, it shall be done,” said Martin.
He looked at Aneta, and Aneta looked straight back at him.
“Mr. Martin,” she said suddenly, “I am the school-friend of your stepdaughter, Maggie Howland. May I have a little conversation with you in your private room?”
“Ah, I thought there was something!” said Martin. “To be sure, miss,” he added. – “Turtle, you see that this order is hexecuted. It’s for her ladyship, Lady Lysle, 16b Eaton Square. – Come this way, my lady.”
“I am only Miss Lysle,” said Aneta.
All the attendants in the shop gazed in wonder as the beautiful girl and the excited Martin went into the little parlor at the back of the business establishment. There Martin stood with his hands behind him; but Aneta sank into a low chair.
“I want to ask you a great favor, Mr. Martin,” said the girl. She looked full up at him as she spoke.
Martin thought that he had never in his life seen such melting and lovely blue eyes before. “She bowls me over,” he kept saying to himself. “I hate the aristocrats, but somehow she bowls me over.” – “Anything in my power, miss,” he said aloud, and he made a low bow, pressing his hand to his chest.
“I think,” said Aneta – “indeed, I am sure – to judge from your most flourishing shop – that you are a good business man.”
“Well, now, there’s no doubt on that point, Miss – Miss Lysle.”
“But you would like to extend your custom?” said Aneta.
“Business is always business to me,” replied Martin.
“Well, the fact is, it lies in my power to induce my aunt, Lady Lysle, to get her groceries from you. She has a large establishment and sees a great deal of company. She gets them now at the Army and Navy Stores, but I haven’t the slightest doubt that she would not object to have them from you.”
“You are exceedingly good, Miss Lysle, and I am sure anything that her ladyship ordered should have my very best attention; in fact, I should make it my business to get in specially good things for her. If I might let you into a business secret, miss, the people round here don’t want the very best things; they don’t, so to speak, appreciate them.”
“I quite understand that,” said Aneta. “Of course Lady Lysle would require the very best.”
“She should have the best, miss; I’d be proud of her custom. Things should be punctually delivered; just an order overnight, and my cart would convey them to her ladyship’s door at an early hour on the following day.”
“Yes, it could be arranged,” said Aneta.
“Then, perhaps, miss,” said Mr. Martin, who saw brilliant prospects opening before him, and the possibility of a West End shop, a genuine West End shop, being his, as well as the profitable establishment at Shepherd’s Bush, “her ladyship might be so kind as to recommend me to others.”
“It is possible,” said Aneta coldly; “but of course I can only speak for my aunt herself.” Then she added, “And even for her I cannot quite speak, although I believe the matter can be arranged. I have given you a large order to-day.”
“You have, Miss Lysle, and most faithfully will it be attended to.”
Martin took out his red silk handkerchief and mopped his forehead.
“Now,” said Aneta gently, “I haven’t come here all the way from Aylmer House, and practically given up a day of my school-life, for nothing. I have come on behalf of another.”
“Ho, ho!” said Martin, “so the cat’s going to be let out of the bag.”
Aneta colored.
Martin saw he had gone too far, and immediately apologized. “You will forgive my coarse way of expressing myself, miss. I know it isn’t done in your circle.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Aneta. “I will come to the point at once. I am interested in Miss Howland.”
“Ah! my little stepdaughter. I keep her at a fine, smart school, don’t I? I do the knowing by her, don’t I?”
“Well, all I want you to do in future – and I believe her mother will consent, for I have seen Mrs. Martin this morning”–
“You went to Laburnum Villa this morning? Tasty place, that, eh?”
“Yes, a very comfortable sort of house. My aunt, Lady Lysle, and I went together.”
“Her ladyship and you?”
“We drove there.”
“I hope the neighbors saw,” said Martin. “They’ll come in shoals to see Little-sing after they’ve peeped at her ladyship’s carriage.”
Aneta could scarcely keep back a smile.
“Mr. Martin,” she said, “if I do what I intend for you – and it lies in my power – will you please not come to Aylmer House to-morrow?”
“Ho, hi! And why not? Ashamed of me, eh?”
“Not at all,” said Aneta. “I am not ashamed of you in your walk in life; but I think it would be best for Maggie if you did not come; therefore I ask you not to do so.”
“But the girl’s my girl.”
“No, she is her mother’s daughter; and, to tell the truth, we all want – I mean, my aunt and I, and others – to have her to ourselves, at least until she is educated.”
“But, come now, miss, that’s all very fine. Who pays for her education?”
“Her father’s money.”
“So she let that out?” said Martin.
“I know about it,” said Aneta. “That is sufficient. Now, Mr. Martin, I ask you to become grocer to my aunt, Lady Lysle, of Eaton Square, and to any friends who she may recommend, on the sole condition that you do not come to Aylmer House, and that you allow Maggie Howland to spend the holidays with us.”
“Oh, my word, I am sure I don’t care,” said Martin,
“You promise, then?”
“Yes, I promise fast enough. If you’re going to take Maggie and bring her up a fine lady she’ll never suit me. All I beg is that she doesn’t come back to me like a bad penny some day.”
“That I can absolutely assure you she will never do. I am exceedingly obliged to you. Will you come with me now and let me say a few words to my aunt; for as you have made your definite promise to leave Maggie alone, my aunt must make a definite promise to you.”
Lady Lysle was much astonished, as she sat wearily in her carriage, when a red-faced, bald-looking, stout grocer accompanied her elegant young niece to the carriage-door.
“Aunt Lucia,” said Aneta, “this is Mr. Martin.”
Lady Lysle gave the faintest inclination of her head.
“Proud to see your ladyship,” said Martin.
“I have been making arrangements with Mr. Martin,” said Aneta, “and on certain conditions he will do what I want. Will you please, in future, get your groceries from him?”
“I will faithfully attend to you, my lady, if agreeable to you. I will come weekly for horders. I will do anything to oblige your ladyship.”
“Please, auntie, you’ve got to do it,” said Aneta.
“My dear, it depends on Watson, my housekeeper.”
“Oh, I’ll manage Watson,” said Aneta, springing lightly into the carriage, her face all beams and smiles. – “It is quite right, Mr. Martin; and you will get your second order this evening. You won’t forget about the tea and currants and sugar for the poor people. – Now, auntie, will you drive me back to Aylmer House, or shall we go straight to Eaton Square?”
“Eaton Square, I think.”
“Good-day, Mr. Martin.”
The carriage rolled out of sight. Martin stood bareheaded in the doorway of his shop. There was not a prouder man than he in the whole of Christendom. When he returned to the sacred precincts of the shop itself he said to Turtle, “Fresh customer, Turtle – West End, Turtle. That’s a fine young lady – eh, Turtle?”
“The most beautiful young female I ever saw,” returned Turtle.
“When I ask you what you think of her personal appearance you can tell me, Turtle. Now, go and attend to the shop.”
Meanwhile Aneta, her heart full of thankfulness, accompanied her aunt to Eaton Square.
“I have got what I want,” she said, “and dear Maggie is practically saved; and you have done it, auntie. You will feel happier for this to your dying day.”
Lady Lysle said that at the present moment she did not feel specially elated at the thought of getting her tea and numerous groceries at a shop in Shepherd’s Bush; but Aneta assured her that that was a very tiny sacrifice to make for so great an end as she had in view.
“It will help Mr. Martin,” she said. “He is not a gentleman, and doesn’t pretend to be, but he’s a good, honest tradesman; and perhaps Mrs. Ward, too, will give him some of her custom.”
“Well, my dear Aneta, if you’re happy, I have nothing to say,” responded her aunt. “But you must tackle Watson, for I really cannot attempt it.”
Aneta did tackle the old housekeeper to some purpose. At first there were objections, protests, exclamations; but Aneta was sure of her ground. Did not Mrs. Watson idolize the girl, having known her from her earliest days?
About tea-time a tired and triumphant girl returned to Aylmer House. She had had her way. The great difficulty was overcome. Maggie, looking pale and tired, was having tea with the others. Aneta sat down by her side. Maggie turned anxious eyes towards the queen of the school whom she used to fear and almost hate. But there was no hatred now in Maggie’s eyes. Far, far from that, she looked upon Aneta as a refuge in the storm. If Aneta could not get her out of her present trouble no one could.
“You will be very busy during the leisure hours this afternoon,” said Aneta when the meal was coming to an end. “But, first of all, I want to speak to you just for a minute or two.”
“Yes,” said Maggie.
“We have done tea now. May Maggie and I go away by ourselves, please, Miss Johnson, for a few minutes?” said Aneta.
Miss Johnson signified her consent, and the two queens left the room together. The other girls looked after them, wondering vaguely what was up.
“Maggie,” said Aneta, “I have managed everything.”
“Aneta – you haven’t”–
“Yes; he isn’t coming to-morrow, nor is your mother; and Aunt Lucia has invited you to spend the Christmas holidays with us. You can see your mother occasionally; but, somehow or other, Maggie dear, you are to be my friend in future; and – oh, Maggie!”
“Oh Aneta! how can I ever, ever thank you?”
“Well, the beginning of the way is a little hard,” said Aneta. “Come now, at once, straight to Mrs. Ward, and tell her every single thing.”
“She will expel me if I do,” said Maggie.
“That I know she will not. She is too true and dear and kind. Besides, I will stay with you all the time while you are telling her. Come, quick. You can get your confession over in a very few minutes.”
“Oh Aneta! for you I would do anything. But how did you manage to get my dreadful stepfather to give up his plan.”
“That matters little. He has given it up. Now, come. There’s much to do to prepare for to-morrow; but you must get your confession over first.”
Mrs. Ward always had her tea alone, and she was just finishing it on this special evening when there came a tap at her door, and, to her great amazement, Aneta and Maggie entered, holding each other’s hands.
“Mrs. Ward, Maggie has something to say to you.”
“Yes,” said Maggie; and then in a few broken words, choked by tears of true repentance, she told her story. She had been ashamed of her stepfather. She had been deceitful. She had been afraid to confess that she was taken at a lower fee than the other girls at the school. She had gone out, without leave, to sell one of her own father’s treasures. Everything was told. Mrs. Ward looked very grave as the girl, with bent head, related the story of her deceit and wrong-doing.
“I know you can expel me,” said Maggie.
“But you will not,” said Aneta. “I feel sure of that, for I, who never cared for Maggie until now, love her with all my heart. There will be no rivalry in the school any more, and dear Maggie must not go.”
“Oh, if you would keep me! If you would keep me,” said Maggie, “and give me one more chance!”
“Have you asked God to forgive you, Maggie?” said Mrs. Ward.
“I cannot, somehow; my heart is so cold. But if – if you would”–
“We will ask Him together,” said Mrs. Ward.
There and then she knelt down, and Aneta and Maggie knelt at each side of her, and she said a few words of prayer which touched Maggie’s heart as no words had ever touched it before. “Keep from her all hurtful things, and give her those things which are necessary for her salvation,” pleaded the mistress.
Suddenly Mrs. Ward’s hand was taken by Maggie and covered with kisses. “Oh, I will try!” she said; “I will try hard to be really good! And,” she added, “I will take any punishment you give me.”
Mrs. Ward looked at her with sparkling eyes. She was a very keen observer of character. She put her hand under the girl’s chin and looked into her downcast face.
“My dear,” she said, “full and absolute forgiveness means the doing away with punishment. You have suffered sorely; I will not add to your suffering in any way. Now, go and prepare for to-morrow’s entertainment. – Aneta, you will stay with me for a few minutes.”
Maggie left the room, but in a short time she returned. She carried in her arms the two tin boxes which contained her father’s treasures.
“I want you to keep these for me, or to sell them, or to do what you like with them,” said Maggie. She then immediately left the room.
Mrs. Ward and Aneta bent over the treasures. Mrs. Ward gave a start of great surprise when she saw them.
“Why, these,” she said, “are a fortune in themselves.”
“I thought so,” said Aneta, her eyes sparkling. “I felt sure of it. We must get that brooch back from Pearce.”
“Yes, Aneta; I will send Miss Johnson round for it at once. What did you say he gave Maggie for it?”
“Five pounds, Mrs. Ward.”
“It is very honest of him to offer to restore it to her. Ring the bell, dear, and Lucy Johnson will come.”
Miss Johnson was very much interested when she saw the sparkling treasures.
“Maggie’s!” she exclaimed. “I am glad she has given them to you to take care of for her. I was always terrified at her keeping such priceless things in her drawer.”
Mrs. Ward gave the girl some directions and the necessary money; she went off to fulfill her errand in considerable amazement. Lucy returned in less than half-an-hour with the lovely little brooch, which was immediately added to the collection.
“The best person to see these, as you suggested, Aneta,” said Mrs. Ward, “is Sir Charles Lysle. They are really no good to Maggie, but ought to be sold for their utmost value for her benefit. She has many fine points, and considerable strength of character; and if you take her up, dear, I feel certain that she will be saved from all those things which would ruin a nature like hers.”
“I mean to take her up,” said Aneta with spirit.
“Well,” said Mrs. Ward, “the first thing to do is to get to-morrow over. I have no doubt it will be a success. Meanwhile, will you write a line to your uncle, Sir Charles, and ask him if he can call here to see these treasures?”
“Yes, I will write to him at once,” said Aneta. “He spends most of his time at the British Museum. Couldn’t I send him a wire, Mrs. Ward, and then he would come to-night?”
“Yes, that is a very good idea. Do so, my love.”
The girls had a very spirited rehearsal, and Maggie was her old vivacious, daring, clever self once more. That inward change which no doubt had taken place brought an added charm to her always expressive face.
Between seven and eight that evening Aneta’s uncle, Sir Charles, arrived. He and Mrs. Ward had a long consultation. His opinion was that the bracelets and other curios were worth at least seven thousand pounds, and that such a sum could easily be obtained for them.
“In fact, I myself would buy them for that figure,” said Sir Charles. “It is not only that there are in this collection some unique and valuable stones; but the history, the setting, and the make of these ancient relics would induce the British Museum to buy many of them. Doubtless, however, Miss Howland will get the biggest price of all for them if they are auctioned at Christie’s.”
Before she went to bed that night Aneta told Maggie that she was by no means a penniless girl, and that if she would consent to having her father’s treasures sold she would have sufficient money to be well educated, and have a nice nest-egg in the future to start in any profession she fancied.
“Oh Aneta, it is all too wonderful!” said poor Maggie – “to think of me as I am to-night, and of me as I felt last night when I wanted to lose myself in the London fog. Aneta, I can never love you enough!”
“You want a good long sleep,” she said. “Think of to-morrow and all the excitement which lies before us!”
Maggie did sleep soundly that night, for she was quite worn out, and when Saturday arrived she awoke without a fear and with a wonderful lightness of heart. The day of the festival and rejoining passed without a hitch. The supper was delightful. The tableaux vivants were the best the school had ever seen. The games, the fun, made the Cardews at least think that they had entered into a new world.
But perhaps the best scene of all came at the end when Aneta went up to Maggie and took her hand, and, still holding it, turned and faced the assembled school.
“Maggie and I don’t mean to be rival queens any longer,” she said. “We are joint-queens. All Maggie’s subjects are my subjects and all my subjects are Maggie’s. Any girl who disapproves of this, will she hold down her hand? Any girl who approves, will she hold her hand up in the air?”
Instantly all the pairs of hands were raised, and there was such a clapping and so many cheers for the queens who were no longer rival queens that mademoiselle was heard to exclaim, “But it is charming. It makes the heart to bound. I do love the English manner, and Mademoiselle Aneta, si jolie, si élégante; and Mademoiselle Maggie, who has a large charm. I do make homage to them as the two queens. I would,” she continued, turning and clasping Miss Johnson’s hands, “be a schoolgirl myself to be a subject of them.”
A few words will suffice to end this story. Lady Lysle might be proud and perhaps somewhat disdainful, but she was at least as good as her word, and in a very short time Martin the grocer thought it worth his while to open a very smart-looking shop in the West End. This shop Lady Lysle took a curious interest in and recommended to her friends, so that Martin began to do as sound a business in the neighborhood of Eaton Square as he did in Shepherd’s Bush. Of all things in the world, he liked best to make money, and he was quite glad to be rid of Maggie when his own prospects became golden owing to her absence from his premises.
As to Mrs. Martin, she was content to see her daughter occasionally.
Maggie’s curios were all sold, except the little brooch (which she kept for herself in memory of her father), for a sufficiently large sum to pay for her education and to leave her enough money to do well for herself by-and-by. Having no longer anything to conceal, and under the beautiful, brave influence of Aneta, she became quite a different girl. That strength of character and that strange fascination which were her special powers were now turned into useful channels. Maggie could never be beautiful, but her talents were above the average, and her moral nature now received every stimulus in the right direction. Merry Cardew could love her, and gain good, not harm, from her influence. But, strange to say – although perhaps not strange – Aneta was her special friend. It was with Aneta that Maggie mostly spent her holidays. It was Aneta’s least word that Maggie obeyed. It was for Aneta’s approval that Maggie lived.
Queens of the school they still remain, each exercising her influence in her own way, and yet both working in perfect harmony.
“Have they not both the characters beautiful?” said mademoiselle. “I think there is no girl like the English girl.”
Doubtless she is right.
THE END