Chapter 9 QUIET DAYS

'The slow, sweet hours that bring us all things good.'-Tennyson.

The next morning, after breakfast, Miss Rayner took me all over her chicken farm. It was most interesting to me, as I had never seen anything of the sort before. All the houses and contrivances for the chickens, from the time they left their egg-shells, were so perfect in every little detail, and the incubators I thought charming. A brood of little chicks were just hatched, but I could not help expressing my regret to Miss Rayner that they had no proper mother.

'They must miss such a lot,' I said; 'it seems such a desolate state to be in.'

'We never miss what we have not been accustomed to,' Miss Rayner said briskly. 'Much better have no mother than a bad one, and hens are not better than most folks-they very often ill-treat their young.'

I saw, from the way she went about and superintended everything, that her whole heart was with her poultry, and she was one to do all that came to her hand both thoroughly and well. Her servants seemed devoted to her, though I heard her scolding her outdoor man so severely that I wondered he stood it as meekly as he did.

I soon became quite at home, and enjoyed my new life immensely. I was left pretty much to myself in the morning, but in the afternoon Miss Rayner would often invite me out for a long walk or drive. She rode a great deal, and persuaded me to accompany her on a very quiet chestnut mare.

I had taken riding lessons at school, but had not had much opportunity of riding since, and the Forsyths never seemed to have a horse to spare. It was a great pleasure to me now, and I could not but enjoy Miss Rayner's society. She was a cultivated, well-read woman, and her conversation was very different to that to which I had been accustomed. She made me feel my own ignorance on many subjects, and I was glad to read the books and reviews she placed in my hands.

One evening she had given me a fresh book, dealing with some of the questions of the present day, and had said that she would like me to study it, for the writer was a clever and rising author.

I read on for some time in silence, and then I put it down.

'Is it too deep for you?' she asked.

'No,' I replied; 'but I don't like it.'

'I am surprised. There is such a decided religious tone in it that I thought it would just suit you.'

'It is just that tone I don't like. It represents some of the Bible truths so unfairly.'

'In what way?'

'In speaking of God's justice--'

'Please explain,' she said, as I faltered.

'Justice is not cruelty, Miss Rayner. I suppose he holds the same views that so many seem to hold. And even in novels now that you get at a circulating library you constantly come across the same thing-a kind of contempt for the "old, narrow doctrines," as they call them, bringing down God's standard to theirs, and condemning what they cannot understand.'

Miss Rayner laughed.

'You are getting hot over their iniquities. I did not know you were such a critical young person.'

'I can't bear the Bible being made light of,' I said. 'They cut away and put their own interpretation on the most solemn truths. Do you agree with this man, Miss Rayner?'

'In the face of such severe criticism, I should be bold to say I did,' was the laughing reply; then she added, more seriously, 'I don't really know what I do believe. Perhaps you would be shocked at some of my theories. I never trouble my head about doctrines; a man's life is more important than his creed.'

'And what kind of a life do you believe in?' I asked.

'An upright, honourable life, in which all lying and humbug would not find a place. A life spent for the good of one's fellow-creatures is the noblest one, but few attain to that. I think we ought to leave some the better for our influence when we depart this life.'

'And then?' I asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. '"Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." The present is what we have to deal with, not the future. Don't look so shocked, child. If you question me so closely, what am I to do? I am not an unbeliever. I go to church every Sunday morning, and, as you see, I keep up the old custom of family prayers once a day. Don't judge other people as heathen because they may not think exactly the same as yourself.'

I said no more. I felt too young and inexperienced to argue with a woman of such a stamp as Miss Rayner. She would lean back in her chair, and look and listen to me with an amused twinkle in her eyes; but as for being convinced of the truth by anything that I said, that, I knew, was a moral impossibility. Yet, when I went to my room that night, I prayed earnestly for her, and felt more than ever the comfort that what was impossible to man was easy and possible to God, and the Holy Spirit Himself could convince her of her need of a Saviour.

I was a little troubled lest, through cowardice, I had not made as good a use of the opportunity as I might have done; so the next morning, at breakfast, I said to her,-

'Miss Rayner, I have been thinking over our conversation last night. Do you think doing good to our fellow-creatures is all that God requires of us? Is He Himself not to have a place in our life? What do you think of words like these, "Thou hast created all things, and for Thy pleasure they are and were created"?'

'Now, look here,' she said good-naturedly, 'I am not going to be preached to. The chief thing that made me take to you was, that you were not a prig, with all your extreme devotedness. And I will not enter into religious discussions. I might disturb your faith, and I don't want to do that. Keep your religion to yourself, and live it out, child, if you want to impress others. I am sick of cant and humbug-be real and true, and you are sure to commend your views to others, but you will never do it by preaching at them.'

I coloured up. 'I didn't mean to preach,' I began.

'You felt it was on your conscience to say more to me. Oh, I know all about it! I can read your face like a book, and you took about ten minutes to make up your mind to do it.'

I could not help laughing at her tone, but said no more, as I saw how useless it would be.

It was a few days after this that Kenneth made his appearance. He rode up to the door just as we were sitting down to luncheon.

'What do you want?' asked Miss Rayner sharply, as she made him welcome at the table. 'I am not accustomed to visits from you.'

'No,' Kenneth said, laughing; 'I only came to see how Goody Two-Shoes was getting on, and whether she wants to come home again.'

'I am very happy here, thank you,' I said.

'I was not aware that the arrangement of her affairs was in your hands,' Miss Rayner remarked drily.

Kenneth laughed again good-humouredly. 'Well, you see, my father is away, and I am acting as his representative. What do you think of her, aunt? Has she been trying to convert you yet?'

Miss Rayner's eyes sparkled a little as she looked across at me. 'I am not going to tell tales,' she said. 'We understand each other, I think-at any rate, we are trying to.'

'I am afraid she has not had sufficient scope at our house, for we are too many for her,' Kenneth pursued; 'the only one who was amenable to her influence was Captain Gates. I really believe he was quite willing, only she wouldn't do it for him, when it came to the point.'

'Oh, hush, Kenneth!' I exclaimed. 'Please don't talk so; you know how I dislike it.'

'I am afraid Gates has lost his chance,' Kenneth continued, with one of his provoking smiles. 'I met him last week, Goody, and what do you think he was doing? Now don't look so indifferent, for, remember, if he goes to the dogs, it will be you who has driven him there. He was packing his things up for Monte Carlo. And he is going to propose to the first heiress that he comes across, for he is desperately hard up just now.'

I felt my cheeks get hot, and I knew that Miss Rayner's eyes were scanning me closely.

'How is Violet?' I asked. 'Isn't she feeling rather lonely?'

'I never set eyes on her,' was the brotherly reply, 'except that before I got off this morning she came rushing out with all sorts of messages to you. I told her I shouldn't remember half. One was that she wanted you back, I think; the other, that Miss Graham had taken your precious Sunday class, and had found it so entertaining that she was going to try it again.'

'Oh, I am so glad!' I exclaimed. 'I was hoping she would; and is she going to give Jim a reading-lesson in the week, do you know?'

'That I can't tell you.'

After luncheon, Miss Rayner went down to the village on some errand, and then Kenneth inquired, 'Is she treating you well?'

'Of course,' I replied; 'she is most kind, and I am enjoying myself very much.'

'What on earth do you do with yourself all day in this out-of-the-way hole? Have you seen a single visitor since you have been here?'

'Not one,' I said, laughing; 'and for myself, I would just as soon be without them.'

'We are awfully slow at home just now,' Kenneth said; 'Hugh is as grumpy and cross as two sticks. I dine out whenever I can, and shoot everything I come across in the day-time. I even condescend to rabbits, if there's nothing better on hand. I think we shall have the house pretty full when the girls come back. Amongst other people, Hugh is asking a new crony of his, some scientific fellow whom he raves about.'

'I never heard him rave about anybody or anything!' I remarked.

'It is raving for him, when he tells you that his chum is thought no end of by different celebrities, and that he considers it an honour to have him under our unworthy roof-or words to that effect. Mother will be delighted to have him, as he is unmarried, and has a big estate somewhere.'

'Have you heard from Nelly?' I asked, changing the subject, as I did not like his sneering tone.

'Had a letter from her yesterday; she and Constance are going at it night and day. I say, Goody, how much longer are you going to stay here? Couldn't you tell the aunt you have had enough of it, and come back? It is too slow for anything just now. I promise you some nice little treats if you come. We will go up the river-you and I-and we shall have it all our own way, for there will be nobody to interfere with us.'

'I have promised to stay here till Mrs. Forsyth comes back,' I said.

'Oh, bother your promise! Say you found it too slow, and couldn't stand it any longer.'

'But I don't find it slow,' I said, looking at him full in the face. 'I think I like Miss Rayner's society better than yours.'

Kenneth looked quite taken aback at first, and then we both laughed together.

'It's true,' I persisted.

'I don't believe it; I shall give you a dose of my society to-day, for I shall stay on to dinner here. What shall we do this afternoon?'

'Miss Rayner does not expect you to stay on,' I said, 'for she wished you good-bye before she went out just now.'

'I know she did, but I intend to stay, all the same.'

And this he did, telling Miss Rayner when she came in that there was no dinner at home, Hugh was in town, and he was sure she would offer him further hospitality.

Kenneth could be very amusing when he liked, and he certainly brought a fresh element into our quiet life. He asked me to play on my violin after dinner, and when I had finished he turned to Miss Rayner and said, 'That is Goody's strong forte-that instrument of hers. She could charm a man's soul away by some of her strains!' And then he took his leave.

There was silence between us for some time after his departure. I thought Miss Rayner was reading, and though I was professedly doing the same, my thoughts kept wandering off to Captain Gates. I wondered if I was responsible for his going back to his old reckless life. He had told me once what a snare gambling had been to him, and how much he wanted to give it up. This visit to Monte Carlo would plunge him into the midst of it again.

I was startled out of my reverie by Miss Rayner's voice saying, 'What pictures are you seeing in the fire, child?'

I looked up. 'I was only thinking,' I said.

'So I suppose. Who is this Captain Gates that Kenneth mentioned?'

I coloured. How often she seemed to read my thoughts! 'A friend of Kenneth who often comes to stay with the Forsyths.'

'And what has he to do with you, or you with him?'

I hesitated, then said in a low voice, 'He wanted me to marry him, and I couldn't!'

'Why not?'

'I-I didn't care enough for him, and we should not have suited each other. He leads a very gay life.'

'But I suppose he vowed he would give all that up?'

'Yes, he did; but I don't think he would have done so.'

And then, encouraged by a softening in her tone and manner, I told Miss Rayner all, asking her at the end if she did not think I had acted rightly.

'Quite right,' she said emphatically; 'but be thankful you were not head over ears in love with him, for your decision would have cost you something then.'

She spoke with such intense feeling that I could not help thinking there must be something behind her words, especially when she continued in low, earnest tones: 'Better go through life lonely and single, than tie yourself to a man whose aim and object in life is directly contrary to yours. There can be only misery for both if you act otherwise. And cut the connection at once for his sake, more than for your own. It is only prolonging the agony.'

I did not speak, and then, with a short laugh, Miss Rayner seemed to recover herself. 'What am I saying? Perhaps some day I may tell you a chapter in my life, child-but not now. You have not had to go through such a sharp ordeal as I have. I am afraid there is nothing for it but a curate for you. Holding your present views, you would find no pleasure in a man of the world.'

'Surely every one is not bound to have a husband?' I said, half laughing, half vexed with her light, mocking tone.

'I should say you were sure to have one,' she retorted; 'perhaps your views will melt away when you come across some one that you really fancy.'

I shook my head, but dropped the subject, wondering, with a girlish curiosity, what Miss Rayner's life story was.