White Lilac | Page 7

belong naturally
to the child; it was even made more expressive by putting the surname
first, so that she was often called "White Lilac."
For the distinguishing character of her face was its whiteness--"A
wonderful white skin", as her mother had said, which did not tan, or
freckle, or flush with heat, and which shone out in startling contrast
amongst the red and brown cheeks of her school companions. This
small white face was set upon a slender neck, and a delicately-formed
but upright little figure, which looked all the straighter and more like
the stalk of a flower, because it was never adorned with any flounces or
furbelows. Lilac was considered in the village to be very old-fashioned
in her dress; she wore cotton frocks, plain in the skirt with gathers all
round the waist, long pinafores or aprons, and sunbonnets. This attire
was always spotless and freshly clean, but garments of such a shape
and cut were lamentably wanting in fashion to the general eye, and
were the subject of constant ridicule. Not in the hearing of the widow,
for most people were a good deal in awe of her, but Lilac herself heard
quite enough about her clothes to be conscious of them and to feel
ashamed of looking "different." And this was specially the case at
school, for there she met Agnetta Greenways every day, and Agnetta
was the object of her highest admiration; to be like her in some way
was the deep and secret longing in her mind. It was, she knew well, a
useless ambition, but she could not help desiring it, Agnetta was such a
beautiful object to look upon, with her red cheeks and the heavy fringe

of black hair which rested in a lump on her forehead. On Sundays,
when she wore her blue dress richly trimmed with plush, a long feather
in her hat, and a silver bangle on her arm, Lilac could hardly keep her
intense admiration silent; it was a pain not to speak of it, and yet she
knew that nothing would have displeased her mother so much, who was
never willing to hear the Greenways praised. So she only gazed
wistfully at her cousin's square gaily-dressed figure, and felt herself a
poor washed-out insignificant child in comparison.
This was very much Agnetta's own view of the case; but nevertheless
there were occasions when she was glad of this insignificant creature's
assistance, for she was slow and stupid at her lessons, books were grief
and pain to her, and Lilac, who was intelligent and fond of learning,
was always ready to help and explain. This service, given most
willingly, was received by Agnetta as one to whom it was due, and
indeed the position she held among her schoolfellows made most of
them eager to call her friend. She lived at Orchards Farm, which was
the biggest in the parish; her two elder sisters had been to a finishing
school, and one of them was now in a millinery establishment in
London, where she wore a silk dress every day. This was sufficient to
excuse airs of superiority in anyone. It was natural, therefore, to repay
Lilac's devotion by condescending patronage, and to look down on her
from a great height; nevertheless it was extremely agreeable to Agnetta
to be worshipped, and this made her seek her cousin's companionship,
and invite her often to Orchards Farm. There she could display her
smart frocks, dwell on the extent of her father's possessions, on her
sister Bella's stylishness, on the last fashion Gusta had sent from
London, while Lilac, meek and admiring, stood by with wonder in her
eyes. Orchards Farm was the most beautiful place her imagination
could picture, and to live there must be, she thought, perfect happiness.
There was a largeness about it, with its blossoming fruit trees, its broad
green meadows, its barns and stacks, its flocks of sheep and herds of
cattle; even the shiny-leaved magnolia which covered part of the house
seemed to Lilac to speak of peace and plenty. It was all so different
from her home; the bare white cottage on the hillside where no trees
grew, where all was so narrow and cold, and where life seemed to be
made up of scrubbing, sweeping, and washing. She looked longingly

down from this sometimes to the valley where the farm stood.
But other eyes, and Mrs White's in particular, saw a very different state
of things when they looked at Orchards Farm. She knew that under this
smiling outside face lay hidden care and anxiety; for her brother,
Farmer Greenways, was in debt and short of money. Folks shook their
heads when it was mentioned, and said: "What could you expect?" The
old people remembered the prosperous days at the farm, when