Unlucky: A Fragment of a Girl's Life

et. Young people must be more or le

s of her acquaintances. Mary Macleod lived in a northern county, and she and Mrs. Desmond had never been close friends, but circumst

as already launched on her favourite topic, the miseries resulting from the present pernicious system of bringing up young people. Mrs.

, "you don't mean to say that you have taken up with these new-fangled notions

ok in hand as usual, and was taking up her accustomed station on a stra

hear you come in. Don't you see my cousin, Miss Macle

note of defiance in her voice which grated the more upon her stepmothe

annoyed even her father, and went far to deprive her of such consolation as she might have extracted from his secret, if unspoken, sympathy. As for Mrs. Desmond, her spirit of obstinacy was aroused, and so far from ascribing her failure to win Helen to any fault of her own, she clung yet more persistently than ever to her preconceived ideas, and subjected the girl to still severer discipline. Whilst acting thus, Mrs. Desmond considered herself the most forgiving of mortals because she maintained a forbearing though frigid demeanour towards her wayward stepdau

tched Helen keenly from the moment that she became aware of the girl's presence. She smiled very pleasantly as Helen, in obedience to her stepmother's command, approached the visitor, and not at

Cousin Mary. But, bless me, child, how cold your hand

s face, although she dre

hank you," she sa

spite of the latter's rather constrained replies, for childless Cousin Mary's passion for young people was well known in her family, and Mrs. Desmond began to feel fidgety lest her guest might even temporarily interfere with Helen's training. It was a relief when the colonel entered the

absorbing," she said s

girl abruptly. "I think it is

ut it down then

irection, "because"-but just then that lady, who had been listenin

dullest book

Amy H

n, seeing the pains I t

book too," put in the colonel

chair a little with a grating sound, w

at when I was a girl, I knew every line of it. It is a pity that you do not lay t

. "We grown-up people are influenced by the feelings of our day. Books that appealed to our gr

l vehemence. "What was good enough for my aunts, for instan

ould you write that note for me before dinne

to comply with her husband's request. He followed her t

close akin to one another, struck Helen immensely, and made Cousin Mary seem quite an approachable being in this

g," she said, with the sudden burst of friendliness that

Were your though

dealt lightly with.

m," she went on. "And I wondered what you meant when y

ary look

f to-day have any excuse for being naughty and rebellious. But I sometimes think that as we grown-up people move about so much, and are tempted to grow restless and impatien

dful!-dreadful!

dful, only perhaps

gleam of fun in Cousin Mary's eyes as she re

," she said. "

mes, I grant. And yet we must learn them

, and Helen began to think her the most

epeated. "Grown-up peop

en grown up than I did in the school-room. But that is a matter of choice. There are certain l

" asked Helen in an

I am dreadfully disobedient sometimes, but I am always sorry for it afterwards, I think. Perhaps som

isobed

rfered with some very pleasant plans that I had made. That was why I did not like it, although I knew all the time that I ought to come. Now I begin to

words. Her eyes, that had been heavy and downcast, lit up; she raised her

she said, "although you do say

Desmond left her writing-table, and, shivering a little, rejoined her cousin by the fire. As she did so Helen brushed past her, holding the recovered ball in

y Helen's rough contact. "I wonder what my cousin will think of such a little barbarian. You had be

stant fault finding, to be reproved in this fashion and sent to

clock. "Why should I go to bed before my usual hour? I have done

aughter's tone angered him. "Helen, how dare you speak in that way to your mother? G

re. Every vestige of colour left her face; her white lips just moved, but no words came. Then s

ng spared a scene, Mary," said Mrs. Desmond

aret," observed the colonel, addressing his

then?" asked the former briskly. "It's

training for girls; and I shall never shirk a duty that I have underta

is wife's hand, while

might be the best. Probably the child is

very house? Helen has many more indulgences than I

your sampler or repeating Watt's hymns. And do you recollect your horror when I once went out of doors while I was putting on my gloves and afterwards proposed to

when he used to boast of his little

egan, but his w

observed, and was about to go on when the annou

ppy one. Dinner was excellent and daintily served. In the evening an old friend of the colonel's dropped in, and there was plenty of bright talk. Colonel Desmond seemed profoundly contented, and his wife scarcely less so. Only Cousin Mary's thoughts wandered sometimes away from the

ould not make bad worse. But, thinking thus, the softness of her cousin's manner and the ancient endearments that passed between husband and

man," he said when he and his wife were alone together. "She ha

he is a good soul at heart. A little hard, n

ng-room long after Mrs. Desmond disappeared to dress for that evening's dinner-party, hoping to catch a glimpse of the young culprit. But although she allowed herself only ten minutes for dressing, and was obliged in conse

sin

n eager whisper fro

do just wait

you like, although

rush down

nts-but, O! I didn't come to say this. Look here! I know there was going to be a dinner party to-night, and I knew that she would have flowers, and I was dete

ished speaking, she placed a bunch of li

answer to a blank look of dismay on Helen's face. "I thank you, dear, indeed I do. Bu

face h

setting you ag

ar your flowers and to think of you all t

I

nd ungenerous thoughts out of you

you mean by ungener

ay, and Cousin Mary, going her way down, near

ee if I could assist you," s

y by the lateness of Miss Macleod's arrival, but by the plainness of her attire, which, in Mrs. Desmond's opinion, was emphasized by a great bunch of lilies of the valley pinned carelessly in the front of her b

do her justice, was never negligent of her duties as a hostess, noticed her cousin's abstraction, and tried more than once to draw her into the conversation, but without much success. When the gentlemen appeared there was a little very indifferent music, and then the company dispersed. Cousin Mary was heartily glad to find herself once more in her own room. But although she had pleaded fatigue in the drawing-room she seem

, and, peeping in, she saw at once she had reached her goal, for by the faint light that came in

Helen?" asked Co

sat up

ally come to see me? I was af

a notion that

t and lit a small lamp that she carried in her hand. After this she made Helen lie down, shook up her

r a little while?" asked

for long, though; you ought

filled with tears, and her voice grew tremulous. "I hate being such a baby," she went on, dashing away the rebelliou

hand, "don't you know that you are making your ow

were happy before she came, and now even father doesn't love me. I met him on the stairs to-day and he asked me if I was sorry, and just

ren't always ha

as; at least

id nothing ever go wron

hings went wrong. But it was

r father loved you th

ow he

to give you; and he wished to make a happy home for you. He did his best for you, and you make t

I would do anything i

ffection very cu

"When one loves a person truly one ceases

anything to make

do a very g

ow

spectful and obedient to your stepmother, and b

ease her if I tri

e you ev

as agai

ay to yourself when you feel your temper rising, 'It is for my father'

re rude yesterday evening, my child; your father was quite right to reprove you. You caused him a gr

igh of disappointment, when suddenly the bed-clothes were

seen her and kissed my father. And I suppose, Cousin Mary, that I ought to tell her that I ran away from Miss Walker t

e only outcome of such an injudicious proceeding. Helen, rather crestfallen, at length allowed herself to be coaxed back into bed again, and then Cousin Mary crept down to the smoking-room and persuaded the colonel, who was sitting rather gloomily over his expir

tle girl," whispered the colonel to Mary as

latter warmly, "but you must not repress her too much.

ver with Margaret. And, by the bye, let us say nothing of what has taken place

down-stairs to his own quarters, while Cousin Mary, shrugg

d to eat the only food that had been brought to her in her disgrace. In the sincerity of her penitence, however, she resolved to bear the pangs of hunger in d