Uncle Max | Page 5

have every comfort, every luxury; they want me to be gay and
enjoy myself, to lead their life; but it only makes me miserable; they do
not understand me; they see I do not think with them, and then they
laugh at me and call me morbid. No one really wants me but poor Jill: I
am so fond of Jill.'
'Why cannot you lead their life, Ursula?'
'Because it is not life at all,' was my resolute answer: 'to me it is the
most wearisome existence possible. Listen to me, Uncle Max. Do you
think I could possibly spend my days as Sara does,--writing a few notes,
doing a little fancy-work, shopping and paying visits, and dancing half
the night? Do you think you could transform such a poor little
Cinderella into a fairy princess, like Sara or Lesbia? No; the drudgery
of such a life would kill me with ennui and discontent.'
'It is not the life I would choose for you, certainly,' he said, pulling his
beard in some perplexity: 'it is far too worldly to suit my taste; if
Charlie had lived you would have made your home with him. He often
talked to me about that, poor fellow. I thought a year or two at Hyde
Park Gate would do you no harm, and might be wholesome training;
but it has proved a failure, I see that.'
'They would be happier without me,' I went on, more quietly, for he
was evidently coming round to my view of the case. 'Aunt Philippa
does not mean to be unkind, but she often lets me see that I am in the
way, that she is not proud of me. She would have taken more interest in
me if I had been handsome, like Sara; but a plain, dowdy niece is not to
her taste. No, let me finish, Uncle Max,'--for he wanted to interrupt me
here. 'They made a great fuss about my training at the hospital last year,
but I am sure they did not miss me; Sara spoke yesterday as though she

thought I was going back to St. Thomas's, and Aunt Philippa made no
objection. I heard her tell Mrs. Fullerton once "that really Ursula was so
strong-minded and different from other girls that she was prepared for
anything, even for her being a female doctor."'
'Well, my dear, you are certainly rather peculiar, you know.'
'Oh, Uncle Max,' I said mournfully, 'are you going to misunderstand me
too? Providence has deprived me of my parents and my only brother: is
it strong-minded or peculiar to be so lonely and sad at heart that gaiety
only jars on me? Can I forget my mother's teaching when she said,
"Ursula, if you live for the world you will be miserable. Try to do your
duty and benefit your fellow-creatures, and happiness must follow"?'
'Yes, poor Emmie, she was a good woman: you might do worse than
take after her.'
'She would not approve of the life I am leading at Hyde Park Gate,' I
went on. 'She and Aunt Philippa never cared for each other. I often
think that if she had known she would not have liked me to be there.
Sundays are wretched. We go to church?--yes, because it is respectable
to do so; but there is a sort of reunion every Sunday evening.'
'I wish I could offer you a home, Ursula; but--' here Uncle Max
hesitated.
'That would not do at all,' I returned promptly. 'Your bachelor home
would not do for me; besides, you might marry--of course you will,' but
he flushed rather uncomfortably at that, and said, 'Pshaw! what
nonsense!' We had paused under a lamp-post, and I could see him
plainly: perhaps he knew this, for he hurried me on, this time in the
direction of home.
'I am five-and-twenty,' I continued, trying to collect the salient points of
my argument. 'I am indebted to none for my maintenance; I am free,
and my own mistress; I neglect no duty by refusing to live under Uncle
Brian's roof; no one wants me; I contribute to no one's happiness.'

'Except to Jill's,' observed Uncle Max.
'Jill! but she is only a child, barely sixteen, and Sara is becoming
jealous of my influence. I shall only breed dissension in the household
if I remain. Uncle Max, you are a good man,--a clergyman; you cannot
conscientiously tell me that I am not free to lead my own life, to choose
my own work in the world.'
'Perhaps not,' he replied, in a hesitating voice. 'But the scheme is a
peculiar one. You wish me to find respectable lodgings in my parish,
where you will be independent and free from supervision, and to place
your superfluous health and strength--you are a muscular Christian,
Ursula--at