Halcyone | Page 5

in the broad window sill,
her hands clasped round her knees.
For this was a wonderful thing which had come into her life.--She had

met someone who could see the other side of her head! Henceforth
there would be a human voice, not only a fairy's, to converse with her.
Indeed, the world was a very fair place!
Here, Priscilla found her when it was growing dark, still with the rapt
expression of glad thought on her face. And the elderly woman shook
her head. "That child is not canny," she muttered, while aloud she
chided her for idleness and untidiness in having thrown her cap on the
floor.
But Halcyone flung her arms round Priscilla's neck and laughed in her
beard.
"Oh, you dear old goosie! I have been with the Immortals on the blue
peaks of Olympus and there we did not wear caps!"
"Them Immortals!" said Priscilla. "Better far you were attending to
things you can see. They'll be coming down and carrying you off, some
of these fine nights!"
"The Immortals don't care so much about the nights, Priscilla--unless
Artemis is abroad--she does--but the others like the sunlight and great
white clouds and a still blue sky. I am quite safe--" and Halcyone
smiled.
Priscilla began tidying up.
"Ma'm'selle's wrote to the mistresses to say she won't come back, she
can't put up with the place any longer."
This sounded too good to be true! Another governess going! Surely
they would see it was no use asking any more to come to La Sarthe
Chase--Halcyone had never had one who could appreciate its beauties.
Governesses to her were poor-spirited creatures afraid of rats, and the
dark passages--and one and all resentful of the rag-stuffed panes in the
long gallery. Surely with the new-found Cheiron to instruct her about
those divine Greeks a fresh governess was unnecessary.

"I shall ask Aunt Ginevra to implore my stepfather not to send any
more. We don't want them, do we, Priscilla?"
"That we don't, my lamb!" agreed Priscilla. "But you must learn
something more useful than gods and goddesses. Your poor, dear
mother in heaven would break her heart if she knew you were going to
be brought up ignorant."
Halcyone raised her head haughtily.
"I shan't be ignorant--don't be afraid. I would not remain ignorant even
if no other governess ever came near me. I can read by myself, and the
dear old gentleman I saw to-day will direct me." And then when she
perceived the look of astonishment on Priscilla's face: "Ah! That is a
secret! I had not meant to tell you--but I will. The orchard cottage is
inhabited and I've seen him, and he is Cheiron, and I am going to learn
Greek!"
"Bless my heart!" said Priscilla. "Well, now, it is long past seven
o'clock and you must dress to go down to dessert."
And all the time she was putting Halcyone into her too short white
frock, and brushing her mane of hair, the child kept up a brisk
conversation. Silent for hours at a time, when something suddenly
interested her she could be loquacious enough.
One candle had to be lit before her toilet was completed, and then at
half past seven she stole down the stairs, full of shadows, and across
the hall to the great dining-room, where the Misses La Sarthe dined in
state at seven o'clock, off some thin soup and one other dish, so that at
half past seven the cloth had been cleared away by old William (in a
black evening coat now and rather a high stock), and the shining
mahogany table reflected the two candles in their superb old silver
candlesticks.
At this stage, as Halcyone entered the room, it was customary for
William to place the dish of apples on the table in front of Miss La
Sarthe, and the dish of almonds and raisins in front of Miss Roberta.

The dessert did not vary much for months--from October to late June it
was the same; and only on Sundays was the almond and raisin dish
allowed to be partaken of, but an apple was divided into four quarters,
after being carefully peeled by Miss La Sarthe, each evening, and Miss
Roberta was given two quarters and Halcyone one, while the eldest
lady nibbled at the remaining piece herself.
In her day, children had always come down to dessert, and had had to
be good and not greedy, or the fate of Miss Augusta Noble of that
estimable book, "The Fairchild Family," would certainly fall upon them.
Halcyone, from her earliest memory, had come down to dessert every
night--except at one or two pleasant moments when the measles or a
bad cold had kept her in bed. Half past seven o'clock, summer and
winter, had meant for her