I shall never drop old friends, cried Vera. I am a rock of crystal as regards them, whatever swells may require, if they burst themselves like the frog and the ox.
Well done, crystal rock; but suppose the old friends slide off and drop you? laughed Agatha.
Vera tossed her head; and Thekla ran in to say that Sister was ready.
The walk was shorter and pleasanter than that in the morning, over moorland, but with a good road; but all Magdalen discovered on the walk was that though the girls had attended botanical classes, they did not recognise spear-wort when they saw it, and Agatha thought the old catalogue fashions of botany were quite exploded. This was a sentiment, and it gave hopes of something like an argument and a conversation, but they were at that moment overtaken by the neighbouring farmers wife, who wanted to give Miss Prescott some information about a setting of eggs, which she did at some length, and with a rapid utterance of dialect that amused, while it puzzled, Magdalen, and her inquiries and comments were decided to be thoroughly good-wife by all save Thekla, who hailed the possible ownership of a hen and chicken as almost equal to that of a bicycle.
Magdalen further discovered that Theklas name in common use was Tickle, or else Tick-tick; Paulina was, of course, Paula or Polly; Vera had her old baby title of Flapsy, which somehow suited her restless nervous motions, and Agatha had become Nag. Well, it was the fashion of the day, though not a pretty one; but Magdalen recollected, with some pain, her fathers pleasure in the selection of saintly names for his little daughters, and she wondered how he would have liked to hear them thus transmuted. There had been something bordering on sentiment in her fathers character, and something in Paulinas expression made her hope to see it repeated by inheritance. She saw the countenance brighten out of the mornings antagonistic air when they entered the little chapel at Clipstone, and saw the altar adorned and carefully decked with white narcissus and golden daffodils.
The little chapel was old and plain, very small, but reverently cared for. There was no choir, but the chairs of those who could sing were placed near the harmonium, which was played by one of the young ladies from the large gabled house to which the chapel was attached, and the singing had the refined tones that belong to the music of cultivated people. The congregation was evidently of poor folks from the hamlet, dependants of the great house, and the family itself, a grey-haired, fine-looking general, a tall dark-eyed lady, a tall youth, a schoolboy, and four girlsone of whom was musician, and the other presided over the school children. The service was reverent, the catechising good and effective, the sermon brief, and summing up in a spiritual and devotional manner; Magdalen was happy, and trusted that Paulina was so likewise.
She expected to hear some commendation as they walked home, but Vera alone kept with her, to examine her on the names and standing of the persons she had seen, on which there was as yet little to tell, for the first move towards acquaintance had not yet been made. All that was known was that there were Sir Jasper and Lady Merrifield, connections of Lord Rotherwood, who owned most of the Rockstone property, and who with his family had once been staying in the country house where Magdalen had been governess; but it was a long time ago, and she only recollected that there were some nice little girls. At least she said no more, but her friend thought the more.
I suppose they will call? said Vera.
Most likely they will.
Has nobody called?
Mr. Earl, the Vicar of Arnscombe. He has promised to tell me how we can be of use here. I believe there is great want of a lady at the Sunday school.
This did not interest Veraand she went on asking questions about the neighbourhood, and whether any of the Rockstone people had left cards, and whether there were any parties, garden or evening, at Rockstonemore than Magdalen could yet answer, though she was glad to promote any sort of conversation with either of the girls who did not stand aloof from her.
I say, the M.A. (maiden aunt) knows nobody but that old clergyman, who wants her to teach his Sunday school.
Im out of that, thank goodness, said Agatha.
And Sunday schools are a delusion, only hindering the children from going to church with their parents, said Paulina.
And if nobody calls, and they all think her no better than an old governess, how awfully slow it will be, continued Vera.
I do not suppose that will last, said Agatha. There is Rockstone, remember.
Ten miles off, said Vera disconsolately. Oh, Nag, Nag, isnt it horrid! We shall be just smart enough to be taken for swells, and know nobody; and the swells wont have us because she is a governess. We might as well be upon a desert island at once.
Agatha could not help laughing and repeating
I am out of humanitys reach,
I must finish my journey alone
Never hear the sweet music of speech,
I start at the sound of my own.