MRS. LAVINIA’S MATCH

New Zealand Tablet, 3 August 1911, Page 1145

MRS. LAVINIA’S MATCH

Mrs. Lavinia Nelson gave a last look round the room she had arranged for an expected guest. It was a small room; a fastidious person might have justly likened it to a cupboard, except that a good-sized window gave a cheerful light and a view of Mrs. Lavinia’s garden. But then neither the guest nor the owner was fastidious. To the guest it meant a shelter from the lonely world, where there was not a friend, nor a roof to cover her. To Mrs. Nelson, it gave a new vent to her charitable energy, and the pleasant prospect of a young girl s society. That the girl was an invalid gave her an added charm to ‘Mother Nelson/ as the people of Vanburensdorp called her because she was the best-natured creature in the world. There had come to this little South African dorp, a sick man in search of health, with his sister as nurse—a too-devoted nurse, people said, for when he died her health broke down, and the hotel people feared she would die too. Ihen it was that Mrs. Lavinia came to the rescue, as Ida said afterwards, like the good fairy in children’s stories. Mrs. Nelson offered Ida Sinclair a room in her house. ‘Payment? My dear, we can talk of that when you get well. It is a little box of a place, and I’m a homely old woman to live with.’ A quaint figure was Mrs. Lavinia, as she set off up the sunny street to bring home her guest. - Her hat (though she was a milliner) looked for all the world like an inverted soup-plate covered with rusty black stuff and scraggy ostrich feather, which, even in its best days, would not have been fit to adorn a featherbrush. Ida Sinclair had become familiar with the odd figure and kindly, humorous face, but she could not suppress a smile of amusement when the plump little figure whisked .into her room at the hotel and carried herself and her belongings off in a covered cart to the door of the house that was to be her home. ■ _ It was a single-storey house standing half-hidden beside Van der Merwe’s big grocery store in the main street. Two windows looked out on the street; one was Mrs. Lavinia’s sitting-room, the other her show window, though all the show in it consisted of some boxes with glass lids, containing various colored rolls of ribbon. Mrs. Lavinia had no need to advertise. She was the milliner of the village and had no rival. Ida was shown over the tiny house with some pride. The shop was a long narrow room with a counter behind which ran shelves filled with boxes. ‘Boxes, nothing but boxes,’ thought Ida, ‘it reminds one somehow of Dickens.’ The work-room looked out on the street, so that the busy little woman could see at once who was coming; a box-like bedroom, and a similar kitchen, with Ida’s small room, completed the house. But the pride of Mrs. Lavinia’s life was her garden— a tangle of roses and mignonette and wall-flowers, and every one of Ida’s favorites, reminding her of ‘ home - in far-away England. There was a rush of tears to her eyes as the fragrant perfume brought back the memory of a garden of happy childhood’s days. But here was Mrs. Lavinia whisking about like a very plump cricket, talking all the time with a happy irrelevance, and at last taking Ida’s slender figure by the waist and drawing her into a cushioned chair in the sitting-room.

‘ There now, my dear, you are to be quite at home. We’re going to be as jolly as sandboys, and you are to do just what I tell you until you get strong.” Ida, weak and glad, sat still and looked on at the brisk little woman’s movements, like one in a hazy dream. There was a homely atmosphere about the small house and its owner that appealed to the lonely girl, and later in the : evening, when Mrs. Lavinia brought out her millinery and began to sew, Ida looked on, lazily content, in that lassitude which follows a severe illness. But her idleness did not last long; with returning energy came a desire to work, and after a week she asked permission to help in the sewing, a permission gladly given. Ida’s deft fingers worked wonders with ribbon and chiffon and flowers, and the elder woman’s admiration at her handiwork was generous. Ida was installed as chief adviser in delicate questions of selection and arrangement, and she proved a new attraction to the farmers’ daughters, so that life passed busily for the two women. Ida was happy in the thought that she was not a burden on her good friend, and Mrs. Lavinia, feeling herself free to leave Ida in charge of affairs at home, gave fuller scope to her charitable enterprises. She had, too, at this time a particularly interesting case, the details of which Ida heard, of course, though she did not take the same interest as Mrs. Lavinia, by any means. A young man without friends, and with but little, seemingly, of the world’s goods, had fallen ill from overwork in the Boys’ High School, which he had taken charge of some six months before. Of this Mrs. Nelson heard by accident at the post office, and straightway she came home and filled a basket with delicacies, and set out for the new master’s house. It required all her courage, though, to explain her visit to the tall, gaunt young man who answered her knock. He looked at her in undisguised surprise and faintly-concealed amusement, but the genuine motherliness and kindness in the quick blue eyes touched him inexplicably and he thawed and let her have her way, as most people did. That was the first of a series of visits, and Ronald Gresley found himself waiting for the quick pat-pat of the ‘elastic sides’ up his gravel path, and then always followed her cheery greeting and something to show she had not forgotten the invalid. ‘Now Ida Miss Sinclair—sent these,’ she said, the first time she brought roses. ‘ She said you would be longing for the scent of a rose. She knows, does my dear, what it means to be ill. When her brother died — and may he rest in peaceshe got ill herself and nearly went to heaven, only I kept-her back.’ ‘ Was that quite wise, Mrs. Nelson? I would not thank you for keeping me alive, if I thought I had a chance of getting into a better place than this world.’ ‘Wise? Of course it was wise! The world wants good people, like my dear.’ Ronald was fingering the roses thoughtfully, while Mrs. Nelson prattled on about Ida, giving him a sketch of her story'. You like the roses?’ she asked at last, beaming on him. He started as if from a dream. The roses ? They are fine. They remind me of an old English garden I knew when a boy.’ Mrs. Nelson nodded till her feather shook. That’s just what my dear said they would do. ‘ It’s better to send him a jelly, my dear,’ I said, when she came in looking like a picture with her hands full of roses. “Bring him a jelly, too, Maramie,” she said, “but don’t forget the roses.” ’ Gresley was a man of few words. It was Mrs. Nelson who did most of the talking on these occasions. My dear, I’m sure that young man belongs to a good family. There’s some mystery about him. He owned as much as he’d never taught school before.’ ‘ He’s a University man — Cambridge, I believe,’ said Ida. Probably he is one of the hundreds who drift to the Cape in search of fortune and end by taking up work they were never meant to do.’ Not but what they say he’s a good teacher, and the boys like him,’ said Mrs. Nelson.

A few weeks later Ida was sitting alone in the workroom trimming a hat, when there entered a tall, pale young man, whom she guessed to be the new master. Ida rose and followed him into the shop. He turned at the sound of her step and said, with some hesitation : , ‘ls Mi's.'Nelson at home?” Could this brown-haired and blue-eyed vision be ‘my dear,’ of whom he had heard so often? The vision smiled brightly and stepped behind the counter with a quaint business-like air that did not convince him one little bit. ‘ Mrs. Nelson is out, but I am her assistant ! What can I do for you V He, still bewildered, pulled ‘himself together sufficiently to ask for some ribbon to be used as badges for a cricket team he was getting up among his boys. In a few minutes his nervousness went, for Ida entered into the subject of cricket badges with delightful earnestness. She brought down every ribbon in the shop, in spite of his protests that she was tiring herself unnecessarily. When a big green box on a high shelf refused to come down for her, he went in behind the counter and took it down, ibis blue it is what I have been looking for will go beautifully with the red, and will make a striking badge. Do you not think so?’ Ida held the ribbons together. Splendid ! One wants something that will be seen at a distance and yet be tasteful. Could I—er— Will Mrs. Nelson be able to make them?’ Ida smiled demurely. M will make them if you can trust them to me ’ she said. ’ . . ‘ You ■ Would you ? I know they would be just right if you do them.’ J ‘ You have a large amount of faith,’ she said * I hope you will not be disappointed. When do you want them ? w He mentioned the date. I hope you will be there to see them worn ’ he ventured. ’ Of course I’ll be there. Everybody will be there, i expect. I just love cricket. We had a team at school, and we girls once beat the boys, but,’ with a laugh, they were rather small boys.’ 1 That was in England ?’ ‘ Of course in England.’ 'Wo are fellow-exiles,’ he said. /Mrs. Nelson has spoken much of you. May I consider myself introduced?’ , J ‘ The dear old Mammie! Is she not the quaintest and kindliest soul in the world ? Of course she has told me all about you, Mr. Gresley, and I feel we are old acquaintances.’ .Thank you. Yes, Mrs. Nelson is one of those people this rough old world would be worse without. i have to thank you for the roses sent to cheer a sick man s room.’ Ida laughed and blushed. ‘ And she promised not to tell!’ ~ w le . was 00 kind not to let me know of your thought for a stranger.’ J ‘I wonder,’ thought Ronald to himself as he walked home, ; why that girl’s relatives have left her in such a position. ? A princess playing at being a itchen-maid would be no greater wonder than such a gill acting as milliner’s assistant.’ Ur. cricket 1 '/edges necessitated many visits, and Mis Neison nodded wisely to herself when the yomm people wandered off from badges to talk of many suit jects she did not understand. Sometimes Mr. Greslev remained to tea in the little house, and then he saw w “ h that air of a pr 5s at p'v Tim days drifted by pleasantly. On fine after " o f on ff in A P; uI ’ " ot having anything special to do Ida next" Division 0 "- hich ed tba village to \t Looking down the valley she saw a man’s figure commg up the Pass, , and recognised Ronald Gredey' Her first impulse was to hide behind a hi* rock until he passed, but on second thought she decided to remain

where she was. He did not look at all surprised to see her, and he seated himself on another rock in the most matter-of-fact way. ,« • ■ Ronald drifted into the story of his life, because his listener’s kind eyes seemed to invite confidence. He had been an only son, he told her, . and his father having died when he was nine, his mother married again. That meant the misery of his life. He and his stepfather never agreed, and at length he left home to make his own way in the world. He had been secretary to a friend of his for two years, and on his friend’s death, had gone as tutor to the sons of a wealthy tradesman in South America. The climate there nearly killed him, and the doctors ordered him to Australia or the Cape. He chose the Cape, That was a year ago. He fell across an Englishman who had some influence in educational matters, and he was appointed head master in Vanburensdorp, where he had been rusticating for six long months. The rest she knew. ‘ Yes, and you are not half-well yet,’ she said, looking at him severely. And you don’t take even reasonable care of yourself. Why do you take boys in the evening ? Is not the day long enough to teach them ? ’ He laughed as if her scolding, were enjoyable. ‘Poor little beggars!’ he said, ‘talking so much Dutch makes English difficult to them. They have the courage to face the University exams, on what they can learn from me.’ ‘ The other master did not take them after 3 o’clock. You will never get strong this way.’ Ida rose. ‘lt gets late, and the Mammie will wonder where I am.’ ‘ You are tired of me and ray egotism?’ He looked up at her doubtfully. ‘ What use is a friend who can riot tolerate egotism ?’ she said, laughing. ‘ You are a delightful listener. I feel tempted to ask you to let me continue mine in our next walk. When will that be, by the way?’ He tried to speak in a casual tone and failed. ‘ I came out for a solitary walk, Mr. Gresley,’ she said, with mock gravity. ‘Yes? I’m glad, for so did I. Do you want to go home solitary?’ ‘ It’s getting rather dark,’ she said looking doubtfully at the long, lonely way down to the village. He laughed. ■ ‘ Say you’re not sorry I came, then.’ ‘ Tyrant!’ she exclaimed. ‘ Who would value such an admission at the bayonet’s point?’ Mrs. Nelson was waiting for them .jvith news. ‘ There’s a stranger at the hotel,’ she said, ‘ a Mrs. Warner, who is making inquiries about you, Mr. Gresley.’ ‘Warner! Are you quite sure?’ ‘Yes, that was the name.' An elderly lady.’ He looked at Ida. ‘ltis my mother,’ he said. ‘ You will excuse me if I go now?’ His eyes lingered on Ida’s face then he said goodnight and went. Next morning Ida was settling the trimmings for a hat when there came a knock at the door. ‘You have good news? You are going to England?’ she said, when Ronald entered. ‘ That depends on you. My stepfather is dead, and my mother wants me home to take the old place in Kent. Will you come ‘ What will your mother sav to a milliner’s assistant?’ ‘ She has nothing to say to my choice. Besides, you are only playing at the thing. Do you think you deceived me for one instant?’ Mrs. Lavinia, entering the shop some time later, stood still in suspense. . ‘ We’re going to send you to’ Paris, Mammie,’ said Ida, coming forward laughing. ‘ But you’ve got to come to our wedding first,’ said Ronald. ‘ That I will, and dance at it, too. Was it not I,’ said Mrs. Lavinia, ‘was it not I who made this match?’