A Daughter of the Lodge

by George Gissing

　　From The House of Cobwebs and Other Stories (1906).

　　For a score of years the Rocketts had kept the lodge of Brent Hall. In thebeginning Rockett was head gardener; his wife, the daughter of ashopkeeper, had never known domestic service, and performed her duties atthe Hall gates with a certain modest dignity not displeasing to the statelypersons upon whom she depended. During the lifetime of Sir Henry the bestpossible understanding existed between Hall and lodge. Though Rockett'shealth broke down, and at length he could work hardly at all, theirpleasant home was assured to the family; and at Sir Henry's death thenephew who succeeded him left the Rocketts undisturbed. But, under this newlordship, things were not quite as they had been. Sir Edwin Shale, amiddle-aged man, had in his youth made a foolish marriage; his lady ruledhim, not with the gentlest of tongues, nor always to the kindest purpose,and their daughter, Hilda, asserted her rights as only child with a forceof character which Sir Edwin would perhaps have more sincerely admired hadit reminded him less of Lady Shale.While the Hall, in Sir Henry's time, remained childless, the lodge prideditself on a boy and two girls. Young Rockett, something of a scapegrace,was by the baronet's advice sent to sea, and thenceforth gave his parentsno trouble. The second daughter, Betsy, grew up to be her mother's help.But Betsy's elder sister showed from early years that the life of the lodgewould afford no adequate scope for her ambitions. May Rockett had goodlooks; what was more, she had an intellect which sharpened itself oneverything with which it came in contact. The village school could neverhave been held responsible for May Rockett's acquirements and views at theage of ten; nor could the High School in the neighbouring town altogetheraccount for her mental development at seventeen. Not without misgivings hadthe health-broken gardener and his wife consented to May's pursuit of thehigher learning; but Sir Henry and the kind old Lady Shale seemed to thinkit the safer course, and evidently there was little chance of the girl'saccepting any humble kind of employment: in one way or another she mustdepend for a livelihood upon her brains. At the time of Sir Edwin'ssuccession Miss Rockett had already obtained a place as governess, givingher parents to understand that this was only, of course, a temporaryexpedient--a paving of the way to something vaguely, but superbly,independent. Nor was promotion long in coming. At two-and-twenty Mayaccepted a secretaryship to a lady with a mission--concerning the rights ofwomanhood. In letters to her father and mother she spoke much of theimportance of her work, but did not confess how very modest was her salary.A couple of years went by without her visiting the old home; then, of asudden, she made known her intention of coming to stay at the lodge 'for aweek or ten days.' She explained that her purpose was rest; intellectualstrain had begun rather to tell upon her, and a few days of absolutetranquillity, such as she might expect under the elms of Brent Hall, woulddo her all the good in the world. 'Of course,' she added, 'it's unnecessaryto say anything about me to the Shale people. They and I have nothing incommon, and it will be better for us to ignore each other's existence.'These characteristic phrases troubled Mr. and Mrs. Rockett. That the familyat the Hall should, if it seemed good to them, ignore the existence of Maywas, in the Rocketts' view, reasonable enough; but for May to ignore SirEdwin and Lady Shale, who were just now in residence after six months spentabroad, struck them as a very grave impropriety. Natural respect demandedthat, at some fitting moment, and in a suitable manner, their daughtershould present herself to her feudal superiors, to whom she was assuredlyindebted, though indirectly, for 'the blessings she enjoyed.' This was Mrs.Rockett's phrase, and the rheumatic, wheezy old gardener uttered the sameopinion in less conventional language. They had no affection for Sir Edwinor his lady, and Miss Hilda they decidedly disliked; their treatment at thehands of these new people contrasted unpleasantly enough with the memory ofold times; but a spirit of loyal subordination ruled their blood, and, toSir Edwin at all events, they felt gratitude for their retention at thelodge. Mrs. Rockett was a healthy and capable woman of not more than fifty,but no less than her invalid husband would she have dreaded the thought ofturning her back on Brent Hall. Rockett had often consoled himself with thethought that here he should die, here amid the fine old trees that heloved, in the ivy-covered house which was his only idea of home. And was itnot a reasonable hope that Betsy, good steady girl, should some day marrythe promising young gardener whom Sir Edwin had recently taken into hisservice, and so re-establish the old order of things at the lodge?'I half wish May wasn't coming,' said Mrs. Rockett after long and anxiousthought. 'Last time she was here she quite upset me with her strange talk.''She's a funny girl, and that's the truth,' muttered Rockett from his oldleather chair, full in the sunshine of the kitchen window. They had a nicelittle sitting-room; but this, of course, was only used on Sunday, and noparticular idea of comfort attached to it. May, to be sure, had always usedthe sitting-room. It was one of the habits which emphasised most stronglythe moral distance between her and her parents.The subject being full of perplexity, they put it aside, and with verymixed feelings awaited their elder daughter's arrival. Two days later a cabdeposited at the lodge Miss May, and her dress-basket, and hertravelling-bag, and her holdall, together with certain loose periodicalsand a volume or two bearing the yellow label of Mudie. The young lady waswell dressed in a severely practical way; nothing unduly feminine markedher appearance, and in the matter of collar and necktie she inclined to theexample of the other sex; for all that, her soft complexion and brighteyes, her well-turned figure and light, quick movements, had a picturesquevalue which Miss May certainly did not ignore. She manifested no excess offeeling when her mother and sister came forth to welcome her; a nod, asmile, an offer of her cheek, and the pleasant exclamation, 'Well, goodpeople!' carried her through this little scene with becoming dignity.'You will bring these things inside, please,' she said to the driver, inher agreeable head-voice, with the tone and gesture of one who habituallygives orders.Her father, bent with rheumatism, stood awaiting her just within. Shegrasped his hand cordially, and cried on a cheery note, 'Well, father, howare you getting on? No worse than usual, I hope?' Then she added, regardinghim with her head slightly aside, 'We must have a talk about your case.I've been going in a little for medicine lately. No doubt your countrymedico is a duffer. Sit down, sit down, and make yourself comfortable. Idon't want to disturb any one. About teatime, isn't it, mother? Tea veryweak for me, please, and a slice of lemon with it, if you have such athing, and just a mouthful of dry toast.'So unwilling was May to disturb the habits of the family that, half an hourafter her arrival, the homely three had fallen into a state of nervousagitation, and could neither say nor do anything natural to them. Of asudden there sounded a sharp rapping at the window. Mrs. Rockett and Betsystarted up, and Betsy ran to the door. In a moment or two she came backwith glowing cheeks.'I'm sure I never heard the bell!' she exclaimed with compunction. 'MissShale had to get off her bicycle!''Was it she who hammered at the window?' asked May coldly.'Yes--and she was that annoyed.''It will do her good. A little anger now and then is excellent for thehealth.' And Miss Rockett sipped her lemon-tinctured tea with a smile ofineffable contempt.The others went to bed at ten o'clock, but May, having made herself at easein the sitting-room, sat there reading until after twelve. Nevertheless,she was up very early next morning, and, before going out for a sharplittle walk (in a heavy shower), she gave precise directions about herbreakfast. She wanted only the simplest things, prepared in the simplestway, but the tone of her instructions vexed and perturbed Mrs. Rockettsorely. After breakfast the young lady made a searching inquiry into thestate of her father's health, and diagnosed his ailments in such learnedwords that the old gardener began to feel worse than he had done for many ayear. May then occupied herself with correspondence, and before midday senther sister out to post nine letters.'But I thought you were going to rest yourself?' said her mother, in anirritable voice quite unusual with her.'Why, so I am resting!' May exclaimed. 'If you saw my ordinary morning'swork! I suppose you have a London newspaper? No? How do you live withoutit? I must run into the town for one this afternoon.'The town was three miles away, but could be reached by train from thevillage station. On reflection, Miss Rockett announced that she would usethis opportunity for calling on a lady whose acquaintance she desired tomake, one Mrs. Lindley, who in social position stood on an equality withthe family at the Hall, and was often seen there. On her mother'sexpressing surprise, May smiled indulgently.'Why shouldn't I know Mrs. Lindley? I have heard she's interested in amovement which occupies me a good deal just now. I know she will bedelighted to see me. I can give her a good deal of first-hand information,for which she will be grateful. You do amuse me, mother, she added in herblandest tone. 'When will you come to understand what my position is?'The Rocketts had put aside all thoughts of what they esteemed May's dutytowards the Hall; they earnestly hoped that her stay with them might passunobserved by Lady and Miss Shale, whom, they felt sure, it would bepositively dangerous for the girl to meet. Mrs. Rockett had not slept foranxiety on this score. The father was also a good deal troubled; but hiswonder at May's bearing and talk had, on the whole, an agreeablepreponderance over the uneasy feeling. He and Betsy shared a secretadmiration for the brilliant qualities which were flashed before theireyes; they privately agreed that May was more of a real lady than eitherthe baronet's hard-tongued wife or the disdainful Hilda Shale.So Miss Rockett took the early afternoon train, and found her way to Mrs.Lindley's, where she sent in her card. At once admitted to thedrawing-room, she gave a rapid account of herself, naming persons whoseacquaintance sufficiently recommended her. Mrs. Lindley was agood-humoured, chatty woman, who had a lively interest in everything'progressive'; a new religion or a new cycling-costume stirred her to justthe same kind of happy excitement; she had no prejudices, but a decidedpreference for the society of healthy, high-spirited, well-to-do people.Miss Rockett's talk was exactly what she liked, for it glanced atinnumerable topics of the 'advanced' sort, was much concerned withpersonalities, and avoided all tiresome precision of argument.'Are you making a stay here?' asked the hostess.'Oh! I am with my people in the country--not far off,' May answered in anoffhand way. 'Only for a day or two.'Other callers were admitted, but Miss Rockett kept the lead in talk; sheglowed with self-satisfaction, feeling that she was really showing to greatadvantage, and that everybody admired her. When the door again opened thename announced was 'Miss Shale.' Stopping in the middle of a swiftsentence, May looked at the newcomer, and saw that it was indeed HildaShale, of Brent Hall; but this did not disconcert her. Without lowering hervoice she finished what she was saying, and ended in a mirthful key. Thebaronet's daughter had come into town on her bicycle, as was declared bythe short skirt, easy jacket, and brown shoes, which well displayed herathletic person. She was a tall, strongly built girl of six-and-twenty,with a face of hard comeliness and magnificent tawny hair. All hermovements suggested vigour; she shook hands with a downward jerk, movedabout the room with something of a stride and, in sitting down, crossed herlegs abruptly.From the first her look had turned with surprise to Miss Rockett. When,after a minute or two, the hostess presented that young lady to her, MissShale raised her eyebrows a little, smiled in another direction, and gave ajust perceptible nod. May's behaviour was as nearly as possible the same.'Do you cycle, Miss Rockett?' asked Mrs. Lindley.'No, I don't. The fact is, I have never found time to learn.'A lady remarked that nowadays there was a certain distinction in notcycling; whereupon Miss Shale's abrupt and rather metallic voice soundedwhat was meant for gentle irony.'It's a pity the machines can't be sold cheaper. A great many people whowould like to cycle don't feel able to afford it, you know. One often hearsof such cases out in the country, and it seems awfully hard lines, doesn'tit?'Miss Rockett felt a warmth ascending to her ears, and made a violent effortto look unconcerned. She wished to say something, but could not find theright words, and did not feel altogether sure of her voice. The hostess,who made no personal application of Miss Shale's remark, began to discussthe prices of bicycles, and others chimed in. May fretted under this turnof the conversation. Seeing that it was not likely to revert to subjects inwhich she could shine, she rose and offered to take leave.'Must you really go?' fell with conventional regret from the hostess'slips.'I'm afraid I must,' Miss Rockett replied, bracing herself under theconverging eyes and feeling not quite equal to the occasion. 'My time is soshort, and there are so many people I wish to see.'As she left the house, anger burned in her. It was certain that Hilda Shalewould make known her circumstances. She had fancied this revelation amatter of indifference; but, after all, the thought stung her intolerably.The insolence of the creature, with her hint about the prohibitive cost ofbicycles! All the harder to bear because hitting the truth. May would havelong ago bought a bicycle had she been able to afford it. Straying aboutthe main streets of the town, she looked flushed and wrathful, and couldthink of nothing but her humiliation.To make things worse, she lost count of time, and presently found that shehad missed the only train by which she could return home. A cab would betoo much of an expense; she had no choice but to walk the three or fourmiles. The evening was close; walking rapidly, and with the accompanimentof vexatious thoughts, she reached the gates of the Hall tired perspiring,irritated. Just as her hand was on the gate a bicycle-bell trilledvigorously behind her, and, from a distance of twenty yards, a voice criedimperatively--'Open the gate, please!'Miss Rockett looked round, and saw Hilda Shale slowly wheeling forward, inexpectation that way would be made for her. Deliberately May passed throughthe side entrance, and let the little gate fall to.Miss Shale dismounted, admitted herself, and spoke to May (now at the lodgedoor) with angry emphasis.'Didn't you hear me ask you to open?''I couldn't imagine you were speaking to me,' answered Miss Rockett, withbrisk dignity. 'I supposed some servant of yours was in sight.'A peculiar smile distorted Miss Shale's full red lips. Without another wordshe mounted her machine and rode away up the elm avenue.Now Mrs. Rockett had seen this encounter, and heard the words exchanged:she was lost in consternation.'What do you mean by behaving like that, May? Why, I was running outmyself to open, and then I saw you were there, and, of course, I thoughtyou'd do it. There's the second time in two days Miss Shale has had tocomplain about us. How could you forget yourself, to behave and speaklike that! Why, you must be crazy, my girl!''I don't seem to get on very well here, mother,' was May's reply. 'The factis, I'm in a false position. I shall go to-morrow morning, and there won'tbe any more trouble.'Thus spoke Miss Rockett, as one who shakes off a petty annoyance--she knewnot that the serious trouble was just beginning. A few minutes later Mrs.Rockett went up to the Hall, bent on humbly apologising for her daughter'simpertinence. After being kept waiting for a quarter of an hour she wasadmitted to the presence of the housekeeper, who had a rather graveannouncement to make.'Mrs. Rockett, I'm sorry to tell you that you will have to leave the lodge.My lady allows you two months, though, as your wages have always been paidmonthly, only a month's notice is really called for. I believe someallowance will be made you, but you will hear about that. The lodge must beready for its new occupants on the last day of October.'The poor woman all but sank. She had no voice for protest or entreaty--asob choked her; and blindly she made her way to the door of the room, thento the exit from the Hall.'What in the world is the matter?' cried May, hearing from thesitting-room, whither she had retired, a clamour of distressful tongues.She came into the kitchen, and learnt what had happened.'And now I hope you're satisfied!' exclaimed her mother, with tearfulwrath. 'You've got us turned out of our home--you've lost us the best placea family ever had--and I hope it's a satisfaction to your conceited,overbearing mind! If you'd tried for it you couldn't have gone to workbetter. And much you care! We're below you, we are; we're like dirt underyour feet! And your father'll go and end his life who knows where miserableas miserable can be; and your sister'll have to go into service; and as forme--''Listen, mother!' shouted the girl, her eyes flashing and every nerve ofher body strung. 'If the Shales are such contemptible wretches as to turnyou out just because they're offended with me, I should have thoughtyou'd have spirit enough to tell them what you think of such behaviour, andbe glad never more to serve such brutes! Father, what do you say? I'lltell you how it was.'She narrated the events of the afternoon, amid sobs and ejaculations fromher mother and Betsy. Rockett, who was just now in anguish of lumbago,tried to straighten himself in his chair before replying, but sankhelplessly together with a groan.'You can't help yourself, May,' he said at length. 'It's your nature, mygirl. Don't worry. I'll see Sir Edwin, and perhaps he'll listen to me. It'sthe women who make all the mischief. I must try to see Sir Edwin--'A pang across the loins made him end abruptly, groaning, moaning,muttering. Before the renewed attack of her mother May retreated into thesitting-room, and there passed an hour wretchedly enough. A knock at thedoor without words called her to supper, but she had no appetite, and wouldnot join the family circle. Presently the door opened, and her fatherlooked in.'Don't worry, my girl,' he whispered. 'I'll see Sir Edwin in the morning.'May uttered no reply. Vaguely repenting what she had done, she at the sametime rejoiced in the recollection of her passage of arms with Miss Shale,and was inclined to despise her family for their pusillanimous attitude. Itseemed to her very improbable that the expulsion would really be carriedout. Lady Shale and Hilda meant, no doubt, to give the Rocketts a goodfright, and then contemptuously pardon them. She, in any case, would returnto London without delay, and make no more trouble. A pity she had come tothe lodge at all; it was no place for one of her spirit and herattainments.In the morning she packed. The train which was to take her back to townleft at half-past ten, and after breakfast she walked into the village toorder a cab. Her mother would scarcely speak to her; Betsy was continuallyin reproachful tears. On coming back to the lodge she saw her fatherhobbling down the avenue, and walked towards him to ask the result of hissupplication. Rockett had seen Sir Edwin, but only to hear his sentence ofexile confirmed. The baronet said he was sorry, but could not interfere;the matter lay in Lady Shale's hands, and Lady Shale absolutely refused tohear any excuses or apologies for the insult which had been offered herdaughter.'It's all up with us,' said the old gardener, who was pale and tremblingafter his great effort. 'We must go. But don't worry, my girl, don'tworry.'Then fright took hold upon May Rockett. She felt for the first time whatshe had done. Her heart fluttered in an anguish of self-reproach, and hereyes strayed as if seeking help. A minute's hesitation, then, with all thespeed she could make, she set off up the avenue towards the Hall.Presenting herself at the servants' entrance, she begged to be allowed tosee the housekeeper. Of course her story was known to all the domestics,half a dozen of whom quickly collected to stare at her, with more or lessmalicious smiles. It was a bitter moment for Miss Rockett, but she subduedherself, and at length obtained the interview she sought. With a cold airof superiority and of disapproval the housekeeper listened to her quick,broken sentences. Would it be possible, May asked, for her to see LadyShale? She desired to--to apologise for--for rudeness of which she had beenguilty, rudeness in which her family had no part, which they utterlydeplored, but for which they were to suffer severely.'If you could help me, ma'am, I should be very grateful--indeed I should--'Her voice all but broke into a sob. That 'ma'am' cost her a terribleeffort; the sound of it seemed to smack her on the ears.'If you will go in-to the servants' hall and wait,' the housekeeper deignedto say, after reflecting, 'I'll see what can be done.'And Miss Rockett submitted. In the servants' hall she sat for a long, longtime, observed, but never addressed. The hour of her train went by. Morethan once she was on the point of rising and fleeing; more than once hersmouldering wrath all but broke into flame. But she thought of her father'spale, pain-stricken face, and sat on.At something past eleven o'clock a footman approached her, and said curtly,'You are to go up to my lady; follow me.' May followed, shaking withweakness and apprehension, burning at the same time with pride all but inrevolt. Conscious of nothing on the way, she found herself in a large room,where sat the two ladies, who for some moments spoke together about a topicof the day placidly. Then the elder seemed to become aware of the girl whostood before her.'You are Rockett's elder daughter?'Oh, the metallic voice of Lady Shale! How gratified she would have beencould she have known how it bruised the girl's pride!'Yes, my lady--''And why do you want to see me?''I wish to apologise--most sincerely--to your ladyship--for my behaviourof last evening--''Oh, indeed!' the listener interrupted contemptuously. 'I am glad you havecome to your senses. But your apology must be offered to Miss Shale--if mydaughter cares to listen to it.'May had foreseen this. It was the bitterest moment of her ordeal. Flushingscarlet, she turned towards the younger woman.'Miss Shale, I beg your pardon for what I said yesterday--I beg you toforgive my rudeness--my impertinence--'Her voice would go no further; there came a choking sound. Miss Shaleallowed her eyes to rest triumphantly for an instant on the troubled faceand figure, then remarked to her mother--'It's really nothing to me, as I told you. I suppose this person may leavethe room now?'It was fated that May Rockett should go through with her purpose and gainher end. But fate alone (which meant in this case the subtlestpreponderance of one impulse over another) checked her on the point of aburst of passion which would have startled Lady Shale and Miss Hilda out oftheir cold-blooded complacency. In the silence May's blood gurgled at herears, and she tottered with dizziness.'You may go,' said Lady Shale.But May could not move. There flashed across her the terrible thought thatperhaps she had humiliated herself for nothing.'My lady--I hope--will your ladyship please to forgive my father andmother? I entreat you not to send them away. We shall all be so grateful toyour ladyship if you will overlook--''That will do,' said Lady Shale decisively. 'I will merely say that thesooner you leave the lodge the better; and that you will do well neveragain to pass the gates of the Hall. You may go.'Miss Rockett withdrew. Outside, the footman was awaiting her. He looked ather with a grin, and asked in an undertone, 'Any good?' But May, to whomthis was the last blow, rushed past him, lost herself in corridors, ranwildly hither and thither, tears streaming from her eyes, and was at lengthguided by a maidservant into the outer air. Fleeing she cared not whither,she came at length into a still corner of the park, and there, hidden amidtrees, watched only by birds and rabbits, she wept out the bitterness ofher soul.By an evening train she returned to London, not having confessed to herfamily what she had done, and suffering still from some uncertainty as tothe result. A day or two later Betsy wrote to her the happy news that thesentence of expulsion was withdrawn, and peace reigned once more in theivy-covered lodge. By that time Miss Rockett had all but recovered herself-respect, and was so busy in her secretaryship that she could onlyscribble a line of congratulation. She felt that she had done rather ameritorious thing, but, for the first time in her life, did not care toboast of it.

　　THE END.* * * * * * * * * * * *