A BUNCH OF ROSES.

Mr. Jordan’s wound was not dangerous, but the strictest rest was enjoined. He must keep his bed for some days. As when Jasper was ill, so now that her father was an invalid, the principal care devolved on Barbara. No reliance could be placed on Eve, who was willing enough, but too thoughtless and forgetful to be trusted. When Barbara returned from Ashburton she found her store closet in utter confusion: bags of groceries opened and not tied up again, bottles of sauces upset and broken, coffee berries and rice spilled over the floor, lemons with the sugar, become mouldy, and dissolving the sugar. The linen cupboard was in a similar disorder: sheets pulled out and thrust back unfolded in a crumpled heap, pillow-cases torn up for dusters, blankets turned out and left in a damp place, where the moth had got to them. Now, rather than give the keys to Eve, Barbara retained them, and was kept all day engaged without a moment’s cessation. She was not able to sit much with her father, but Eve could do that, and her presence soothed the sick man. Eve, however, would not remain long in the room with her father. She was restless, her spirits flagged, and Mr. Jordan himself insisted on her going out. Then she would run to Jasper Babb, if he were near. She had taken a great fancy to him. He was kind to her; he treated her as a child, and accommodated himself to her humours. Barbara could not now be with her. Besides, Barbara had not that craving for colour and light, and melody and poetry, that formed the very core of Eve’s soul. The elder sister was severely practical. She liked what was beautiful, as a well-educated young lady is required by society to have such a liking, but it was not instinctive in her, it was in no way a passion. Jasper, on the other hand, responded to the Æsthetic longings of Eve. He could sympathise with her raptures; Barbara laughed at them. It is said that everyone sees his own rainbow, but there are many who are colour-blind and see no rainbows, only raindrops. Wherever Eve looked she saw rainbows. Jasper had a strong fibre of poetry in him, and he was able to read the girl’s character and understand the uncertain aspirations of her heart. He thought that Barbara was mistaken in laughing down and showing no interest in her enthusiasms, and he sought to give her vague aspirations some direction, and her cravings some satisfaction.

Eve appreciated his efforts. She saw that he understood her, which Barbara did not; she and Jasper had a world of ideas in common from which her sister was shut out. Eve took great delight in talking to Jasper, but her chief delight was in listening to him when he played the violin, or in accompanying him on the piano. Old violin music was routed out of the cupboards, fresh was ordered. Jasper introduced her to a great deal of very beautiful classical music of which she was ignorant. Hitherto she had been restrained to a few meagre collections: the ‘Musical Treasury,’ the ‘Sacred Harmonist,’ and the like. Now, with her father’s consent, she ordered the operas of Mozart, Beethoven’s sonatas, Rossini, Boieldieu, and was guided, a ready pupil, by Jasper into this new and enchanted world. By this means Jasper gave Eve an interest, which hitherto she had lacked—a pursuit which she followed with eagerness.

Barbara was dissatisfied. She thought Jasper was encouraging Eve in her frivolity, was diverting her from the practical aims of life. She was angry with Jasper, and misinterpreted his motives. The friendship subsisting between her sister and the young steward was too warm. How far would it go? How was it to be arrested? Eve was inexperienced and wilful. Before she knew where she was, Jasper would have gained her young heart. She was so headstrong that Barbara doubted whether a word of caution would avail anything. Nevertheless, convinced that it was her duty to interfere, she did speak, and, of course, gained nothing by so doing. Barbara lacked tact. She spoke to Eve plainly, but guardedly.

‘Why, Bab! what are you thinking of? Why should I not be with Mr. Jasper?’ answered Eve to her sister’s expostulation. ‘I like him vastly; he talks delightfully, he knows so much about music, he plays and sings the tears into my eyes, and sets my feet tingling to dance. Papa does not object. When we are practising I leave the parlour door open for papa to hear. He says he enjoys listening. Oh, Barbie! I wish you loved music as I do. But as you don’t, let me go my way with the music, and you go your way with the groceries.’

‘My dearest sister,’ said Barbara, ‘I do not think it looks well to see you running after Mr. Jasper.’

‘Looks well!’ repeated Eve. ‘Who is to see me? Morwell is quite out of the world. Besides,’ she screwed up her pretty mouth to a pout, ‘I don’t run after him, he runs after me, of course.’

‘My dear, dear Eve,’ said Barbara earnestly, ‘you must not suffer him to do so.’

‘Why not?’ asked Eve frankly. ‘You like Ponto and puss to run after you, and the little black calf, and the pony in the paddock. What is the difference? You care for one sort of animals, and I for another. I detest dogs and cats and bullocks.’

‘Eve, sweetheart’—poor Barbara felt her powerlessness to carry her point, even to make an impression, but in her conscientiousness believed herself bound to go on—’your conduct is indiscreet. We must never part with our self-respect. That is the guardian angel given to girls by God.’

‘Oh, Bab!’ Eve burst out laughing. ‘What a dear, grave old Mother Hubbard you are! I am always doing, and always will do, exactly opposite to what you intend and expect. I know why you are lecturing me now. I will tell Mr. Jasper how jealous you have become.’

‘For heaven’s sake!’ exclaimed Barbara, springing to her feet—she had been sitting beside Eve—’do nothing of the sort. Do not mention my name to him. I am not jealous. It is an insult to me to make such a suggestion. Do I ever seek his company? Do I not shun it? No, Eve, I am moved only by uneasiness for you. You are thoughtless, and are playing a dangerous game with that man. When he sees how you seek his society, it flatters him, and his vanity will lead him to think of you with more warmth than is well. Understand this, Eve—there is a bar between him and you which should make the man keep his distance, and he shows a wicked want of consideration when he draws near you, relying on your ignorance.’

‘What are you hinting at?’

‘I cannot speak out as I wish, but I assure you of this, Eve, unless you are more careful of your conduct, I shall be forced to take steps to get Jasper Babb dismissed.’

Eve laughed, clapped her hands on her sister’s cheeks, kissed her lips and said, ‘You dear old Mother Hubbard, you can’t do it. Papa would not listen to you if I told him that I wanted Jasper to stay.’

Barbara was hurt. This was true, but it was unkind of Eve to say it. The young girl was herself aware that she had spoken unfeelingly, was sorry, and tried to make amends by coaxing her sister.

‘I want you to tell me,’ said Barbara, very gravely, ‘for you have not told me yet, who gave you the ring?’

‘I did not tell you because you said you knew. No one carries water to the sea or coals to Newcastle.’

‘Be candid with me, Eve.’

‘Am not I open as the day? Why should you complain?’

‘Eve, be serious. Was it Mr. Jasper who gave you the turquoise ring?’

‘Jasper!’ Eve held out her skirts daintily, and danced and made curtsies round her sister, in the prettiest, most coquettish, laughing way. ‘You dearest, you best, you most jealous of sisters; we will not quarrel over poor good Jasper. I don’t mind how much you pet the black calf. How absurd you are! You make me laugh sometimes at your density. There, do not cry. I would tell you all if I dared.’ Then warbling a strain, and still holding her skirts out, she danced as in a minuet, slowly out of the room, looking back over her shoulder at her distressed sister.

That was all Barbara had got by speaking—nothing, absolutely nothing. She knew that Eve would not be one wit more guarded in her conduct for what had been said to her. Barbara revolved in her mind the threat she had rashly made of driving Jasper away. That would necessitate the betrayal of his secret. Could she bring herself to this? Hardly. No, the utmost she could do was to threaten him that, unless he voluntarily departed, she would reveal the secret to her father.

A day or two after this scene, Barbara was again put to great distress by Eve’s conduct.

She knew well enough that she and her sister were invited to the Cloberrys to an afternoon party and dance. Eve had written and accepted before the accident to Mr. Jordan. Barbara had let her write, because she was herself that day much engaged and could not spare time. The groom had ridden over from Bradstone manor, and was waiting for an answer, just whilst Barbara was weighing out sago and tapioca. When Mr. Jordan was hurt, Barbara had wished to send a boy to Bradstone with a letter declining the party, but Mr. Coyshe had said that her father was not in danger, had insisted on Eve promising him a couple of dances, and had so strictly combated her desire to withdraw that she had given way.

In the afternoon, when the girls were ready to go, they came downstairs to kiss their father, and let him see them in their pretty dresses. The little carriage was at the door.

In the hall they met Jasper Babb, also dressed for the party. He held in his hands two lovely bouquets, one of yellow tea-scented roses, which he handed to Barbara, the other of Malmaison, delicate white, with a soft inner blush, which he offered to Eve. Whence had he procured them? No doubt he had been for them to a nursery at Tavistock.

Eve was in raptures over her Malmaison; it was a new rose, quite recently introduced, and she had never seen it before. She looked at it, uttered exclamations of delight, smelt at the flowers, then ran off to her father that she might show him her treasures.

Barbara thanked Jasper somewhat stiffly; she was puzzled. Why was he dressed?

‘Are you going to ride, or to drive us?’ asked Eve, skipping into the hall again. She had put her bunch in her girdle. She was charmingly dressed, with rose satin ribands in her hair, about her throat, round her waist. Her face was, in colour, itself like a souvenir de la Malmaison rose.

‘Whom are you addressing?’ asked Barbara seriously.

‘I am speaking to Jasper,’ answered Eve.

‘Mr. Jasper,’ said Barbara, ‘was not invited to Bradstone.’

‘Oh, that does not matter!’ said the ready Eve. ‘I accepted for him. You know, dear Bab—I mean Barbie—that I had to write, as you were up to your neck in tapioca. Well, at these parties there are so many girls and so few gentlemen, that I thought I would give the Cloberry girls and Mr. Jasper a pleasure at once, so I wrote to say that you and I accepted and would bring with us a young gentleman, a friend of papa, who was staying in the house. Mr. Jasper ought to know the neighbours, and get some pleasure.’

Barbara was aghast.

‘I think, Miss Eve, you have been playing tricks with me,’ said Jasper. ‘Surely I understood you that I had been specially invited, and that you had accordingly accepted for me.’

‘Did I?’ asked Eve carelessly; ‘it is all the same. The Cloberry girls will be delighted to see you. Last time I was there they said they hoped to have an afternoon dance, but were troubled how to find gentlemen as partners for all the pretty Misses.’

‘That being so,’ said Barbara sternly, turning as she spoke to Jasper, ‘of course you do not go?’

‘Not go!’ exclaimed Eve; ‘to be sure he goes. We are engaged to each other for a score of dances.’ Then, seeing the gloom gathering on her sister’s brow, she explained, ‘It is a plan between us so as to get free from Doctor Squash. When Squash asks my hand, I can say I am engaged. I have been booked by him for two dances, and he shall have no more.’

‘You have been inconsiderate,’ said Barbara. ‘Unfortunately Mr. Babb cannot leave Morwell, as my father is in his bed—it is not possible.’

‘I have no desire to go,’ said Jasper.

‘I do not suppose you have,’ said Barbara haughtily, turning to him. ‘You are judge of what is right and fitting—in every way.’

Then Eve’s temper broke out. Her cheeks flushed, her lips quivered, and the tears started into her eyes. ‘I will not allow Mr. Jasper to be thus treated,’ she exclaimed. ‘I cannot understand you, Barbie; how can you, who are usually so considerate, grudge Mr. Jasper a little pleasure? He has been working hard for papa, and he has been kind to me, and he has made your garden pretty, and now you are mean and ungrateful, and send him back to his room when he is dressed for the party. I’ll go and ask papa to interfere.’

Then she ran off to her father’s room.

The moment Eve was out of hearing, Barbara’s anger blazed forth. ‘You are not acting right. You forget your position; you forget who you are. How dare you allow my sister——? If you had a spark of honour, a grain of good feeling in your heart, you would keep her at arm’s length. She is a child, inconsiderate and confiding; you are a man with such a foul stain on your name, that you must not come near those who are clean, lest you smirch them. Keep to yourself, sir! Away!’

‘Miss Jordan,’ he answered, with a troubled expression on his face and a quiver in his voice, ‘you are hard on me. I had no desire whatever to go to this dance, but Miss Eve told me it was arranged that I was to go, and I am obedient in this house. Of course, now I withdraw.’

‘Of course you do. Good heavens! In a few days some chance might bring all to light, and then it would be the scandal of the neighbourhood that we had introduced—that Eve had danced with—an escaped jail-bird—a vulgar thief.’

She walked out through the door, and threw the bunch of yellow roses upon the plot of grass in the quadrangle.