Ayala's Angel [43]
green, and from which a little rill of sweet water could be made to flow when it was touched aright. On this occasion a tear came to her eye as she pressed her niece's hand; but she said nothing. She was sure, however, that she would love Ayala much better than she had been able to love Lucy.
"What would you like me to do?" asked Ayala, when her aunt accompanied her that night to her bedroom.
"To do, my dear? What do you generally do?"
"Nothing. I read a little and draw a little, but I do nothing useful. I mean it to be different now."
"You shall do as you please, Ayala."
"Oh, but I mean it. And you must tell me. Of course things have to be different."
"We are not rich like your uncle and aunt Tringle."
"Perhaps it is better not to be rich, so that one may have something to do. But I want you to tell me as though you really cared for me."
"I will care for you," said Aunt Dosett, sobbing.
"Then first begin by telling me what to do. I will try and do it. Of course I have thought about it, coming away from all manner of rich things; and I have determined that it shall not make me unhappy. I will rise above it. I will begin tomorrow and do anything if you will tell me." Then Aunt Dosett took her in her arms and kissed her, and declared that on the morrow they would begin their work together in perfect confidence and love with each other.
"I think she will do better than Lucy," said Mrs Dosett to her husband that night.
"Lucy was a dear girl too," said Uncle Reginald.
"Oh, yes -- quite so. I don't mean to say a word against Lucy; but I think that I can do better with Ayala. She will be more diligent." Uncle Reginald said nothing to this, but he could not but think that of the two Lucy would be the one most likely to devote herself to hard work.
On the next morning Ayala went out with her aunt on the round to the shopkeepers, and listened with profound attention to the domestic instructions which were given to her on the occasion. When she came home she knew much of which she had known nothing before. What was the price of mutton and how much mutton she was expected as one of the family to eat per week; what were the necessities of the house in bread and butter, how far a pint of milk might be stretched -- with a proper understanding that her Uncle Reginald as head of the family was to be subjected to no limits. And before their return from that walk -- on the first morning of Ayala's sojourn -- Ayala had undertaken always to call Mrs Dosett Aunt Margaret for the future.
CHAPTER 11 TOM TRINGLE COMES TO THE CRESCENT
During the next three months, up to the end of the winter and through the early spring, things went on without any change either in Queen's Gate or Kingsbury Crescent. The sisters saw each other occasionally, but not as frequently as either of them had intended. Lucy was not encouraged in the use of cabs, nor was the carriage lent to her often for the purpose of going to the Crescent. The reader may remember that she had been in the habit of walking alone in Kensington Gardens, and a walk across Kensington Gardens would carry her the greater part of the distance to Kingsbury Crescent. But Lucy, in her new circumstances, was not advised -- perhaps, I may say, was not allowed -- to walk alone. Lady Tringle, being a lady of rank and wealth, was afraid, or pretended to be afraid, of the lions. Poor Ayala was really afraid of the lions. Thus it came to pass that the intercourse was not frequent. In her daily life Lucy was quiet and obedient. She did not run counter to Augusta, whose approaching nuptials gave her that predominance in the house which is always accorded to young ladies in her recognised position. Gertrude was at this time a subject of trouble at Queen's Gate. Sir Thomas had not been got to approve of Mr Frank Houston, and Gertrude had positively refused to give him up. Sir Thomas was, indeed, considerably troubled by his children. There had been a period of disagreeable obstinacy even with Augusta before Mr Traffick had been taken into the bosom of
"What would you like me to do?" asked Ayala, when her aunt accompanied her that night to her bedroom.
"To do, my dear? What do you generally do?"
"Nothing. I read a little and draw a little, but I do nothing useful. I mean it to be different now."
"You shall do as you please, Ayala."
"Oh, but I mean it. And you must tell me. Of course things have to be different."
"We are not rich like your uncle and aunt Tringle."
"Perhaps it is better not to be rich, so that one may have something to do. But I want you to tell me as though you really cared for me."
"I will care for you," said Aunt Dosett, sobbing.
"Then first begin by telling me what to do. I will try and do it. Of course I have thought about it, coming away from all manner of rich things; and I have determined that it shall not make me unhappy. I will rise above it. I will begin tomorrow and do anything if you will tell me." Then Aunt Dosett took her in her arms and kissed her, and declared that on the morrow they would begin their work together in perfect confidence and love with each other.
"I think she will do better than Lucy," said Mrs Dosett to her husband that night.
"Lucy was a dear girl too," said Uncle Reginald.
"Oh, yes -- quite so. I don't mean to say a word against Lucy; but I think that I can do better with Ayala. She will be more diligent." Uncle Reginald said nothing to this, but he could not but think that of the two Lucy would be the one most likely to devote herself to hard work.
On the next morning Ayala went out with her aunt on the round to the shopkeepers, and listened with profound attention to the domestic instructions which were given to her on the occasion. When she came home she knew much of which she had known nothing before. What was the price of mutton and how much mutton she was expected as one of the family to eat per week; what were the necessities of the house in bread and butter, how far a pint of milk might be stretched -- with a proper understanding that her Uncle Reginald as head of the family was to be subjected to no limits. And before their return from that walk -- on the first morning of Ayala's sojourn -- Ayala had undertaken always to call Mrs Dosett Aunt Margaret for the future.
CHAPTER 11 TOM TRINGLE COMES TO THE CRESCENT
During the next three months, up to the end of the winter and through the early spring, things went on without any change either in Queen's Gate or Kingsbury Crescent. The sisters saw each other occasionally, but not as frequently as either of them had intended. Lucy was not encouraged in the use of cabs, nor was the carriage lent to her often for the purpose of going to the Crescent. The reader may remember that she had been in the habit of walking alone in Kensington Gardens, and a walk across Kensington Gardens would carry her the greater part of the distance to Kingsbury Crescent. But Lucy, in her new circumstances, was not advised -- perhaps, I may say, was not allowed -- to walk alone. Lady Tringle, being a lady of rank and wealth, was afraid, or pretended to be afraid, of the lions. Poor Ayala was really afraid of the lions. Thus it came to pass that the intercourse was not frequent. In her daily life Lucy was quiet and obedient. She did not run counter to Augusta, whose approaching nuptials gave her that predominance in the house which is always accorded to young ladies in her recognised position. Gertrude was at this time a subject of trouble at Queen's Gate. Sir Thomas had not been got to approve of Mr Frank Houston, and Gertrude had positively refused to give him up. Sir Thomas was, indeed, considerably troubled by his children. There had been a period of disagreeable obstinacy even with Augusta before Mr Traffick had been taken into the bosom of