Chapter VIII: A Fresh Sphere

"A kindly word and a kindly deed,
A helpful hand in time of need."

WHEN she opened her eyes, she found herself upon the sofa, and Mrs. Dutton was hovering over her with wet handkerchiefs and a glass of brandy and water.

Audrey began to laugh.

"I'm all right. Don't look so scared, Mrs. Dutton!"

Then her eyes fell on Dr. Vernon, who stood in the doorway, and seemed to her to fill the room.

"Oh! Are you waiting still?" she said.

"I think you want to be in a doctor's hands," he said gravely.

"Not at all," Audrey replied with haste, the blood rushing back quickly to her white cheeks; "you have naturally rather upset me, and I'm only just getting over a bad cold, am I not, Mrs. Dutton? I have never fainted before in my life, and it isn't my fault that I did so this time."

"I'm sure, miss, I'm thankful your friends has found you out," said Mrs. Dutton. "I says to my 'usband this morning that I'd a mind to fetch the doctor myself, for you were just going the way the other young lady did, and she were buried six weeks after she took to bed. And she fed herself much better than you've a-done lately!"

"Go away, please, Mrs. Dutton," said Audrey, with another weak laugh. "I haven't taken to my bed, nor do I mean to be buried just yet."

Mrs. Dutton departed, but cast an imploring glance at Dr. Vernon as she did so.

"Can that woman help you to pack?" he said.

"How pertinacious you are! You have no consideration or pity. I have hardly got my breath back yet. I suppose I shall have to go with you. You have taken advantage of my weakness. I haven't the strength to resist, and you know it. If you will leave me, I shall be ready in about half an hour. I can meet you at Victoria Station."

She hesitated, not seeing the gleam of relief that crossed his face, then said, despairingly:

"I was in the act of writing to Mr. Blunt when you arrived to ask him to forward me a cheque. My father's affairs, as you know, are not properly settled yet. I owe Mrs. Dutton something, and must pay her before I go."

"I will settle that. I will return in half an hour."

He left the room, and Audrey, feeling as if she were in a dream, dragged herself upstairs.

As she glanced at her half-written letter which had cost her so much to write, she murmured to herself:

"At any rate, I am saved from the Miss Blunts' merciless criticism. I am too downhearted to hold out against probable employment. But if it is not a bona fide situation, I shall come back to London. I will not be beholden to him for one single penny!"

She packed her one trunk which she had had forwarded to her from home, and then sat down, wishing her limbs would not tremble beneath her so. Mrs. Dutton very soon came up to her.

"The gentleman is waiting downstairs, miss. I'm right down sorry to lose you, but you're not the sort of young lady to battle by yourself in London."

"Oh, Mrs. Dutton, don't crush me utterly! I used to feel myself such a tower of strength and energy! But London is a horrid place for an empty purse, and I shouldn't care if I never saw it again. I shan't forget you and your babies. You've been awfully good to me. I told Dr. Vernon to settle up my account. Has he done it?"

"Yes, and very handsome, too. I don't know what my 'usband will say. Tom is very particular about fairness and such like."

Audrey left her lodgings with a mixture of regret and relief. She was very silent till she was comfortably settled in a first-class carriage at Victoria Station. Dr. Vernon arranged everything, and just before the train started ordered a basin of hot soup to be brought to her.

Audrey at first objected, but he said, very quietly:

"You have missed your tea, and I think this will do you more good than a glass of wine. Railway tea is often atrocious."

He wrapped his travelling rug round her knees, and saw that she was thoroughly comfortable, then settled himself in the opposite corner to her with his evening papers.

Audrey felt a delicious sense of repose and rest stealing over her. The soup had stimulated and warmed her. The sense of being taken in hand and managed, which would have been so utterly repugnant to her a few months ago, now brought real relief to her strained nerves. She took herself to task for liking creature comforts so much. The very thought of sufficient nourishing food, and good fires to warm her, brought a glow to her heart. And then, as the sense of thankfulness deepened, she put up a silent prayer for forgiveness for all her doubts or want of faith.

"I have not been forsaken," she thought; "perhaps this was to be my work, and I had to be brought down very low to make me accept it."

She closed her eyes, and soon sleep came to her.

Dr. Vernon read his paper steadily. Presently, as he was conscious of Audrey's deeper breathing, he lowered his paper and regarded her with quiet interest. He wondered if his hasty and quixotic proposal would be beneficial to her and all concerned. He noted the dark lines under her eyes, those clear grey eyes which had flashed and mocked him and then filled with sudden tears. He marked the pallor and sharpness of cheekbone showing through her transparent skin. He had a pretty clear knowledge of what she had been experiencing from Mrs. Dutton's garrulous revelations, and his heart swelled with pity for the proud, lonely girl.

"She has character," was his inward comment; "she has a little of her mother's sweetness in her face, with her father's determination about her mouth and chin. It remains to be seen how she will get on with the youngsters."

And then, taking up his papers again, he was soon engrossed in them.

Shortly before their destination was reached, Audrey woke.

"You have been asleep. Are you cold?"

Audrey gave a little rippling laugh.

"Excuse me. I can't help being amused. Here are we, who felt like tearing each other's eyes out a short time ago, sitting up together trying to do the polite! I am not at all cold, thank you. I have abandoned myself to your care, as you know, but may I ask where I am to sleep to-night? Am I expected by this Mrs. Bonar?"

"Are you afraid I shall ask you to sleep under my roof?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes," said Audrey, looking at him steadily. "I shall prefer to live as far away as possible. I shall want to forget that you have anything to do with me."

"I think your circumstances will make that very easy," he replied with careless indifference. "Only I would remind you that if we work together in the same community, there must be no bitterness of feeling between us. And if occasion should demand instant loyalty to the principal, I shall expect you to give it."

Something in the stern gravity of his last words made Audrey look at him reflectively. After a moment of silence, she said slowly:

"I suppose I am placing myself in a kind of way under your rule and government?"

"Most assuredly you are."

There was silence between them, then Audrey asked rather irrelevantly:

"May I ask how you came to find me out?"

"I applied to Mr. Blunt, of course. He gave me your address."

"Oh," groaned Audrey, "what delight you have given to his sisters!"

"Why?"

She shook her head.

"I can't tell you, except that I find their interest in me and my doings rather trying sometimes."

The train stopped.

"Are you afraid of an open car?" Dr. Vernon asked. "We can hire, but it will mean delay."

"I'm not at all afraid of the car," was the reply.

And so in a few minutes, Audrey was well wrapped up, and was being whirled along the dark roads towards Horsborough College. She was very silent.

When they stopped at the imposing-looking entrance hall of the college, she looked up quickly.

"This is not my destination, is it?"

"No, but I want you to come in and see my sister first. It is late, and I am sure you must want some food. We will dine together, and then my sister will take you across to Mrs. Bonar."

Audrey stiffened a little, but she made no further objection. She was taken into a very pretty, home-like drawing-room. An elderly lady was reading over the fire. She came forward at once, and Audrey was conscious of a very cheery voice and manner.

Miss Vernon wore her grey hair in the old-fashioned way; it was rolled back under a dainty lace cap; her figure was still erect, and she was in evening dress.

"Ah!" she said, taking Audrey by the hand. "My brother's wire prepared me. Come and sit down. Why, my dear, how ill you look!"

"I have only just recovered from a very bad chill," said Audrey, sinking into an easy-chair with great relief.

Dr. Vernon had gone back into the hall to give some directions to a servant. She felt a sense of freedom from his absence.

"I really feel only fit for bed," she said. "I'm sure I don't impress you favourably, Miss Vernon, but I am naturally very strong, and it is most unusual for me to be ill. If you would excuse me, I really would rather go straight to bed. I shall be all right in the morning. Dr. Vernon said perhaps you would—take me to Mrs. Sonar."

"I shall do nothing of the sort," said Miss Vernon sharply. "I am not going to let you commence work over there till you are fit for it. And I shall not let Mrs. Bonar set eyes on you until you look stronger than you are at present. She would think we were sending her an invalid instead of a strong and capable helpmate."

"I ought not to have come, then," said Audrey, rising from her chair, "but I assure you I was given no choice in the matter."

"And you will have no choice now," said Miss Vernon, with a little friendly pat on her shoulder. "Come straight upstairs with me, we will waste no time in talking, for we have put off dinner for an hour, and I am sure the doctor is ravenous."

She took hold of Audrey's arm and led her up a broad staircase to a large comfortable bedroom with a blazing fire.

"Yes," she said, "I made up my mind I should not let you go to the Junior House to-night. I will send your dinner up to you, and take my advice—get right into bed. There's nothing like that for exhaustion and strained nerves."

"You are most kind," murmured Audrey, feeling utterly unable to resist any longer.

Miss Vernon gave her a cheerful little nod, and departed, saying:

"I will send my maid to you. Make yourself thoroughly comfortable."

Audrey's nerves were indeed strained by the events of the afternoon. Her feeling of antagonism to Dr. Vernon was overcome by the sense of comfort and relief her present surroundings gave her.

"I'm thankful not to sit up and dine with him. I'm a very poor-spirited creature after all. I told him nothing would induce me to sleep under his roof, but here I am, and here I shall have to stay, for I'm too dead tired to protest. Oh, dear! How delicious it all is! And if I were well, how I should enjoy these fresh experiences! As it is, I feel as if I should like to crawl into bed and stay there for a year!"

It was not long before a dainty little dinner was sent up to her. Audrey sat in her easy-chair by the fire and enjoyed it, as she had not enjoyed anything for a long time. She felt grateful to Miss Vernon for leaving her alone. And very soon after, she was lying back on her pillows watching the flickering firelight dancing over the room. She was too tired to think much, but did not forget to express her thanks in prayer to God for having sent help to her in her extremity.

Presently a gentle knock came at her door, and Miss Vernon appeared.

"I've just come to say good-night, and to see that you are comfortable," she said.

"I'm deliciously comfortable," said Audrey, looking up and almost startling Miss Vernon by the brilliancy of her smile. "I don't know how to thank you. I shall be quite myself to-morrow. I really feel as if I shall be beginning life over again. Yesterday at this time, I felt as if it were almost finished!"

Miss Vernon walked straight down to her brother's study.

"She is all right. Really, Everard, I quite like the look of her. I don't get on with young girls as a rule, but I am taken with her appearance. I will have a thorough good talk with her to-morrow."

"Don't overdo it," said Dr. Vernon with a smile. "Remember she will be rather difficult when she is stronger. And leave my name out of your talk if you wish to win her confidence."

Audrey slept till late the next morning. A message was brought to her by Miss Vernon's maid that breakfast would be sent to her. So she lay lazily in bed. She heard a great school bell, and outside her window shrill boys' voices. But she was too tired to satisfy her curiosity by getting up to look out of the window.

Miss Vernon paid her a flying visit about eleven o'clock.

"Stay in bed till luncheon. You and I will have it alone. The doctor always lunches in the hall with the boys. I am busy all this morning with Mrs. Bonar."

"Then you are doing my duties," said Audrey quickly. "Nothing will please me better than setting to work. May I start on them to-day?"

"No," said Miss Vernon, looking at her critically. "To-morrow is Sunday. On Monday morning, I shall initiate you, or, rather, Mrs. Bonar will. I am rather a useless person myself—as far as the school goes. I entertain the masters and some of the elder boys, but I take no part in the school itself."

When Audrey was dressed, she surveyed the scene from her window with interest. It overlooked the playing fields, and now they were full of boyish figures. Football and hockey were going on. She noticed in the distance a red-brick house amongst trees, and some much smaller boys playing in the garden. She wondered if this was to be her sphere of work. When she sat down to luncheon with Miss Vernon, she was told that her surmise was correct.

"I hope you like boys, Miss Hume? If you don't, you had better pack your trunk again and leave to-morrow, for I assure you we see and talk of nobody and nothing else!"

"I have always been fond of them," Audrey said warmly; "I teach a class of them every Sunday at home."

"You will have to make up your mind to enter a boy's kingdom and stay in it. We look at everything from a boy's standpoint. If there is great rejoicing amongst us, it is not over any national victory, but because Jones Major has passed first into Woolwich, or Smith Major has won a scholarship, or the first eleven has beaten St. Olave's School in the town. Our chief pleasures this coming winter will be attending football matches and school concerts. If we have an 'at home,' the parents of our boys are our first consideration, and our conversation is on the relative merits of our different masters, and the programme of sports and games. If we read our newspapers, it is the educational problems that interest us. Our library books are chiefly biographies of learned schoolmasters and historical accounts of famous schools. In fact, if you are going to live amongst us, you must become a loyal Horsburgian."

"Please tell me more. I love to hear it."

"And, of course, it goes without saying," said Miss Vernon, looking at Audrey very sharply, "that we consider the principal to be the very best man on the face of the earth. He is the king of our kingdom. Before him the oldest of us trembles, the youngest of us worships! He is our sun round which we revolve!"

"I have never been given to hero worship in any shape or form," said Audrey rather coldly.

"Then your education has not been completed. We will soon teach you hero worship here!"

Audrey wondered if she were in fun, or sober earnest.

"And," went on Miss Vernon cheerfully, "we all lead a very busy life. We have three other houses besides yours. The doctor has hardly any leisure time, and I have not much. I am occupied in special work of my own—literary work it is. I will tell you about it one day, but it keeps me very busy."

"I shall be glad to be busy," said Audrey with a little sigh. Her last few weeks of enforced idleness had made her wish to have no more of it. "Have you always had this school, Miss Vernon? My father did not know of it."

"My brother has had it now for eight years. His whole soul is wrapped up in it, and he has spent a tremendous lot of his private income upon improvements. I don't believe he would leave it if he were offered a bishopric. He has already refused a deanery. You see he is such a clever and able man that many think his talents wasted in such a sphere as this, but he says that the training of young minds is work that an archangel would covet. And he has wonderful power with boys. He is a second Dr. Arnold, I consider. Ah! You may smile and regard this as a fond sister's ravings, but I regard myself as an impartial judge. You wait till you hear what other folk say!"

It was in this way that Audrey received all the information she wished to have. She was told that there were two married masters, each of whom managed one of the houses. Dr. Vernon himself only housed fifteen of the elder lads, and they did not board with him, but took their meals in the big dining-hall. As she listened to Miss Vernon, she wondered at the intense admiration she showed for her brother.

"He is a masterful man," said Audrey to herself, "and is satiated with homage, I should think. But I do not see anything at all remarkable in him, except, perhaps, when he smiles. And then it is like a rift in a cloud."