Book II Chapter 4 The Little School-Mothers by L. T. Meade
The Pony Conquers
The pony was a beauty. He was a glossy chestnut, with a white star on his forehead. He had gentle and wonderful eyes, and a way of raising his feet from the ground, which showed his high breeding. His different points were pronounced first-rate. In short, Bo-peep was a success. He took not only Robina herself, but the entire family of Starlings by storm. The very moment he arrived, he walked straight into their hearts. But his most marvellous conquest was that of Miss Felicia Jennings. That lady would not admit it for the world, but the fact was, that Malcolm Durrant was her hero of heroes. For years she had followed his career with the deepest and most absorbing interest. She had lived in his adventures; she had read every word he ever wrote; her maiden heart had thrilled through and through over his dangers and wild adventures, and, in short, she could deny nothing to the person who had so captivated her fancy.
She pretended, it is true, to be snappish and disagreeable about Bo-peep; but when alone with this captivating little animal, she fed him on apples, carrots, and stroked his nose, and even said foolish nothings into his ear. Bo-peep also look a fancy to her, and trotted up to her when she came in view, and thrust his nose into her hand.
Robina was not more tolerated than usual, but that was of small consequence; for Bo-peep could do what he liked with the household. The first day of his arrival passed in a sort of universal rejoicing. Robina rode him with much majesty, and a lofty expression of face. Her little sisters in turn sat before her on the side-saddle. Her friends from the nearest house came to see, wonder, and congratulate.
The groom, Peter by name, was very nearly as much admired as was Bo-peep himself. Mr Starling openly announced that he had never enjoyed himself so much before. Peter was likely to prove a most valuable acquisition to the family, and the only thing that was regretted was the groom’s determination never to eat food in the kitchen.
“Your tea will be always ready for you in case you wish for it,” Miss Felicia was heard to say.
But Peter replied stoutly that he had his orders, and that, in fact, he had already secured for himself a room over the saddler’s shop in the village.
“But suppose Bo-peep should be ill in the night,” said Miss Felicia.
At this the man smiled.
“’Tain’t likely, madam,” he said. “The ’oss is a strong ’oss, and when I leave him, after grooming him down and giving him his mash, he won’t want no one else to interfere with him until the morning.”
Thus the arrival of Bo-peep was one of the happiest things that could have happened to Robina. The horse had, however, been two days at Heather House before Mrs Starling heard of the event. It was Robina who broke the news to her. She was busily engaged now getting ready her wardrobe for her delightful visit to Sunshine Lodge. Mrs Starling sent her a message to come to see her. The good lady was lying on a conch by the window.
“Come in very gently, Robina,” she said, “and try to make as little noise as possible.”
Robina advanced as quietly as she could. She sank down by her mother’s sofa, put one firm hand over the invalid’s tremulous one, and said, in a broken sort of voice:
“Oh, mummy!”
“Don’t be so intense, my dear; it makes my heart flutter.”
“But aren’t you better, mummy dear? I have such a lot of things to talk over with you.”
“I cannot bear them, Robina; that is, if they are exciting. Since you came, I don’t know how it is, but I have felt as though the whole house was in a flutter. This state of things is exceedingly bad for me, and my palpitations are much worse in consequence.”
“That is because you don’t know,” said Robina. She leaned out of the window. There was a struggle in her heart. If there was one thing more than another that she pined and longed for, it was to take possession of that poor, weak, suffering, nervous mother of hers, and give her some of her own strength, some of her own life. It was one of Robina’s hidden, unspoken griefs that her mother never understood her, and that she turned away from her child to Aunt Felicia for sympathy. Now Robina thought and wondered.
“Mummy,” she said, “I am going to speak in a very low voice, and you need not get a bit excited. But you see I am very happy.”
“Ah, yes;” said Mrs Starling, still speaking almost in a whisper. “I understand, and I am not envious. Happiness is very far from me, but I am glad my children enjoy it—my children and my husband.”
“But we want you to have it too.”
“It is the will of Providence that I should lie here very weak and suffering. I must submit without a murmur,” said the invalid.
“Mummy, let me talk to you. I know you sent me away to school—”
“I cannot go into those things now, Robina. I did not manage it; it was your aunt.”
“If Aunt Felicia were not here, you would depend on me; you know you would, mummy.”
“If your aunt were not here, I should die—if I had not her to comfort me.”
“Well, darling; she is here, and she does comfort you, I know; and we are glad—father and I and Violet and Rose.”
“Oh, the dear little children, they are quite sweet,” said Mrs Starling: “they are never strong and individual like you, Robin.”
“But I can’t help being individual, as you call it, mummy; and I am so much older than the others.”
“Yes; that is it: if you could only alway’s stay a baby.”
“Well, I cannot;” said Robina, losing some of her patience; “and what is more, I don’t wish to. God meant me to be strong and to have, as you call it, a personality. Now listen. I have got a pony—oh! I have such a pretty story to tell you about it, and how I won it.”
“I can’t listen to any story to-day.”
“Well, anyhow, it is here; and even Aunt Felicia loves Bo-peep and I want you to see him.”
“Really, this is most extraordinary,” said Mrs Starling. “You have got a pony? Such a very great expense! Who bought it for you?”
“Not father, mother. I won him as a prize at school. He has been sent here by a good gentleman who gave the prize, but he costs nobody else anything at all, and his name is Bo-peep: and what father and I think is this: that we might presently have a basket chair got and Bo-peep could draw you about the grounds. Then you would get better, my own mummy; and—and—I should be so happy!”
Robina waited tremblingly. She wondered how her mother would take her proposal.
“I am much too weak,” said the invalid, after a pause, “even to go downstairs, much less to venture outside to be drawn about by your pony. But I always was interested in horses; we had a great many at my old home; and if the pony could be brought where I could see him from this window, it would—well—gratify me. Can we manage it?”
“Oh yes, yes; I will go this minute.”
“Don’t rush wildly across the room and slam the door after you, I beg of you.”
“Oh, no, no. I won’t leave you at all. I mean, I will just go downstairs and give directions, and come back again myself.”
“Do, my dear: I am really interested in horses.” Robina came back after a minute or two, and by and by, there was a little commotion on the badly kept lawn outside the house, for Bo-peep was led forward by Peter the groom. He wore his side-saddle, and perched on his back were both little girls, who looked perfectly radiant, and who waved their hands frantically to their mother. Mr Starling stood by, so that the poor nervous woman was not afraid of any accident happening; and lo! and behold! also belonging to the group was Miss Jennings, and she held a bunch of carrots in her hand. This tempting bonne bouche was far too much for the greedy Bo-peep, who marched boldly up to the lady, rubbing his nose against her, and requesting, as clearly as pony could speak, more and more of his favourite dainties.
“What a pretty creature!” exclaimed Mrs Starling. “Really, he reminds me of my old favourite horse, Prince. How happy and strong I was—as strong as you are now, Robina—when I rode Prince.”
“Shall we open the window, mummy? You will see him better then.”
Robina did so, and Mrs Starling came quite close, and bent a little out of the window, and called Bo-peep once or twice in her faint voice.
“Oh, don’t catch cold, dear!” screamed Miss Jennings from below.
“Don’t interfere, dear?” responded Mrs Starling from above.
“Isn’t he a beauty, mummy? Isn’t he a darling?” called Violet.
“He’s Wobbin’s and mine too!” cried Rose, bending her little body forward, and clasping her arms round the pony’s neck.
“Robina,” said her mother, turning to her, “put on your habit, go downstairs at once, and let me see you mount Bo-peep. I do hope you know how to spring properly into your saddle: I should like to see how you manage it.”
Robina did manage it, and to her mother’s satisfaction. The invalid was better that evening, and the next day requested once again that Bo-peep should be brought round for inspection.
And now an extraordinary thing happened: for from seeing the horse at a distance, the good lady took an unreasonable desire—at least so it seemed to Miss Jennings—to see him near: and as this could only be accomplished by coming downstairs: downstairs she came, Bo-peep was then led up to the dining-room window, and graciously received a carrot from Mrs Starling’s own hand. By and by, she too was stroking his face, and looking into his eyes, and murmuring his name in tones of the deepest affection. In short, Bo-peep was bidding fair to cure Mrs Starling.
But the fortnight which Robina was to spend at home was drawing to an end, and the day was approaching when she, Bo-peep, and Peter, were to leave Heather House en route for Sunshine Lodge. Mrs Starling was unreasonable about this. She wanted Bo-peep to remain behind, and Robina was quite willing that it should be so.
“I have got so much,” she said; “and mother loves my little horse, and I can think of him as a delightful creature to return to before I go back to school.”
But on this occasion, it was no less a person than Miss Felicia Jennings who interfered.
“No, Robina,” she said: “you don’t do anything of the sort. That great man, Malcolm Durrant, has given his orders, and I for one should be the very last person to have them disregarded. He wishes you to go to him. A command from him is like a command from Royalty, my child, and must not for a moment be disregarded. He wishes that precious little animal, Bo-peep, to accompany you, and the animal is to go. Your mother did without the pony for years, and can do so still. If indeed we could afford to have a little carriage made for her, I believe we could induce her to drive out daily with Bo-peep as her steed. But as your father can barely afford to pay your school expenses, that is not to be thought of. Now, my dear, you go in the morning: I trust you will behave well. By the way, you have offered to you, Robina, a marvellous chance in life. You have won the goodwill and esteem of no less a person than Malcolm Durrant. Oh! if only the chance were mine! If sometime you have the opportunity, tell him, my dear, how a dull old maid in a country house in England revels in his work, and admires his character. Tell him that, if you like; and endeavour, Robina, to keep down those faults which will very naturally, if he perceives them, turn him against you. For you are headstrong, and rough, and self-reliant, and above all things, you need the grace of humility.”
“Thank you, Aunt Felicia,” said Robina. “I know you are exceedingly kind, and you mean well, but perhaps Mr Durrant understands me a little better than you do.”
“Now, there you are!” said her aunt; “as impertinent as ever! Don’t—I beseech of you—make speeches of that sort to Malcolm Durrant. Now go up to your mother: she wants to see you. She thinks you are improved. I don’t; but the opinion of an old maid never signifies.”
“Oh, Aunt Felicia!”