A Plucky Girl Read online

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  Transcriber's Note:

  Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

  On page 169, "household gods" should possibly be "household goods". On page 320, "spice of her mind" should possibly be "piece of her mind".

  A PLUCKY GIRL

  BY MRS. L. T. MEADE

  AUTHOR OF "CECELIA'S AWAKENING," "PEGGY FROM KERRY," "FOR DEAR DAD," "A WILD IRISH GIRL," "A GIRL OF HIGH ADVENTURE," "THE CHESTERTON GIRL GRADUATES," ETC., ETC.

  NEW YORK HURST & COMPANY PUBLISHERS

  Copyright, 1900, by George W. Jacobs & Co.

  Contents

  CHAP PAGE

  I. FORTUNE'S BALL 1

  II. FRIENDS OR QUONDAM FRIENDS 9

  III. MY SCHEME 23

  IV. THE VERDICT 31

  V. JANE MULLINS 55

  VI. THE BERLIN WOOL ROOM 74

  VII. THE PAYING GUESTS 83

  VIII. THE FLOUR IN THE CAKE 96

  IX. THE ARTIST'S EYE 103

  X. HER GRACE OF WILMOT 116

  XI. WHY DID HE DO IT? 132

  XII. TWO EXTREMES 147

  XIII. THE UGLY DRESS 160

  XIV. ANXIETY 176

  XV. DR. READE 186

  XVI. GIVE ME YOUR PROMISE 199

  XVII. A DASH OF ONIONS 207

  XVIII. BUTTERED BREAD 222

  XIX. YOU USED TO LOVE US 234

  XX. RUINED 242

  XXI. MR. PATTENS 250

  XXII. THE MAN IN POSSESSION 262

  XXIII. ALBERT 273

  XXIV. THE BOND 297

  XXV. YOU ARE A GOOD MAN 311

  XXVI. HAND IN HAND 319

  XXVII. TOO LATE 324

  XXVIII. THIS DEAR GIRL BELONGS TO US 336

  XXIX. HAVE I LOST YOU? 345

  XXX. THE DUCHESS HAS HER SAY 356

  XXXI. THE END CROWNS ALL 368

  A PLUCKY GIRL

  CHAPTER I

  FORTUNE'S BALL

  I was born a month after my father's death, and my mother called meafter him. His name was John Westenra Wickham, but I was WestenraWickham alone. It was a strange name for a girl, and as I grew uppeople used to comment on it. Mother loved it very much, and alwayspronounced it slowly. She was devoted to father, and never spoke ofhim as most people do of their dead, but as if he were still living,and close to her and to me. When a very little child, my greatesttreat was to sit on her knee and listen to wonderful stories of mybrave and gallant father. He was a handsome man and a good man, and hemust have possessed, in a large degree, those qualities which endearpeople to their fellows, for surely it was no light cause which mademy mother's beautiful brown eyes sparkle as they did when she spoke ofhim, and her whole face awake to the tenderest life and love andbeauty when she mentioned his name.

  I grew up, therefore, with a great passionate affection for my deadfather, and a great pride in his memory. He had been a Major-Generalin a Lancer regiment, and had fought many battles for his country, andled his men through untold dangers, and performed himself more gallantfeats than I could count. He received his fatal wound at last inrescuing a brother-officer under fire in Zululand, and one of the lastthings he was told was that he had received his Victoria Cross.

  During my father's lifetime mother and he were well off, and for someyears after his death there did not appear to be any lack of money. Iwas well educated, partly in Paris and partly in London, and we had apretty house in Mayfair, and when I was eighteen I was presented toHer Gracious Majesty by mother's special friend, and my godmother, theDuchess of Wilmot, and afterwards I went a great deal into society,and enjoyed myself as much as most girls who are spirited and happyand have kind friends are likely to do. I was quite one and twentybefore the collapse came which changed everything. I don't know how,and I don't know why, but our gold vanished like a dream, and we foundourselves almost penniless.

  "Now what are we to do, Westenra?" said mother.

  "But have we nothing?" I replied.

  "Only my pension as your dear father's widow. Your pension as hischild ceased when you came of age, and I believe, for so our lawyerstell me, that there is about fifty pounds besides. I think we cancount on a hundred and fifty a year. Can we live on that sum,Westenra?"

  "No," I answered proudly.

  I was standing behind one of the silk curtains in the drawing-room asI spoke. I was looking down into the street. The room was full ofluxury, and the people who passed backwards and forwards in theirluxurious carriages in the street below were many of them our friends,and all more or less moved in what was called nice society. I was fullof quite unholy pride at that moment, and poverty was extremelydistasteful, and to live on a hundred and fifty pounds a year seemedmore than impossible.

  "What is it, West? What are you thinking of?" said mother, in a sadvoice.

  "Oh, too many things to utter," I replied. "We can't live on the sumyou mention. Why, a curate's wife could scarcely manage on it."

  "Don't you think we might just contrive in a very small cottage in thecountry?" pleaded mother. "I don't want much, just flowers round meand the country air, and your company, darling, and--and--oh, verysmall rooms would do, and the furniture of this house is ours. Wecould sell most of it, and send what we liked best down to thecottage."

  "It can't be done," I answered. "Listen, mother, I have a proposal tomake."

  "What is it, my darling? Don't stand so far away--come and sit nearme."

  I walked gravely across the room, but I did not sit down. I stoodbefore mother with my hands tightly locked together, and my eyesfastened on her dear, lovely, delicate old face.

  "I am glad that the furniture is ours," I began.

  "Of course it is."

  "It is excellent furniture," I continued, looking round and appraisingit quickly in my mind's eye: "it shall be part of our capital."

  "My dear child, our capital? What do you mean?"

  "We will take a house in Bloomsbury, put the furniture in, and havepaying guests."

  "West, are you mad? Do you remember who I am--Mrs. Wickham, the widowof--or no, I never will allow that word--the wife of your dear, dear,noble father."

  "Father would approve of this," I answered. "He was a brave man anddied fighting, just as I mean to die fighting. You are shocked at theidea to-night, mother, because it is fresh to you, but in a week'stime you will grow accustomed to it, you will take an interest in it,you will even like it. I, bury myself in the country and starve!--no,no, no, I could not do it. Mother, darling, I am your slave, yourdevoted slave, your own most loving girl, but don't, don't ask me tovegetate in the country. It would kill me--it would kill me."

  I had dropped on my knees now and taken both her hands in mine, and Ispoke with great excitement, and even passion.

  "Don't stir for a
moment," said mother; "how like your father youlook! Just the same eyes, and that straight sort of forehead, and thesame expression round your lips. If your father were alive he wouldlove you for being brave."

  As mother looked at me I think she forgot for the moment the terribleplunge we were about to make into the work-a-day strata of society,but the next instant the horrid fact was brought back to her, forPaul, our pretty little page, brought in a sheaf of letters on asalver. Of course they were unpaid bills. Mother said sadly--

  "Put them with the others, Westenra."

  "All these bills must be met," I said stoutly, after Paul had closedthe door behind him. "There will be just enough money for thatpurpose, so we need not start handicapped. For my part, I mean toenjoy our scheme vastly."

  "But, my child, you do not realise--you will be stepping down from theposition in which you were born. Our friends will have nothing to dowith us."

  "If they wish to give us up because we do something plucky they arenot worthy to be called friends," was my reply. "I don't believethose friends we wish to keep will desert us, mother. On thecontrary, I am certain they will respect us. What people cannot standin these days is genteel poverty--its semi-starvation, its poor meanlittle contrivances; but they respect a hand-to-hand fight withcircumstances, and when they see that we are determined to overcome inthe battle, then those who are worth keeping will cling to us and helpus; and if all our friends turn out to be the other sort, mother,why"--and here I rose and stretched out my arms wide--"let them go,they are not worth keeping. Those who won't be fond of us in our newhome in Bloomsbury we can do without."

  "You are enthusiastic and--and ignorant," said mother.

  "I grant that I am enthusiastic," I answered. "It would be a greatpity if I had none of that quality at one and twenty; but as to myignorance, well, time will prove. I should like, however, to ask you astraight question, mother. Would father have sat beside his guns anddone nothing when the fight was going against him? Was that the way hewon his Victoria Cross?"

  Mother burst out crying. She never could bear me to allude to thatfatal and yet glorious occasion. She rose now, weak and trembling, andsaid that she must defer the discussion of ways and means until thenext day.

  I put on my hat and went for a walk alone. I was full of hope, andnot at all depressed. Girls in these days are always glad to havesomething new to do, and in the first rush of it, the idea of leavingthe humdrum path of ordinary society and of entering on a new andvigorous career filled me with ecstacy. I don't really think in thewhole of London there was a prouder girl than the real WestenraWickham; but I do not think I had ordinary pride. To know titledpeople gave me no special pleasure, and gay and pretty dresses were socommon with me that I regarded them as the merest incidents in mylife, and to be seen at big receptions, and at those "At Homes" whereyou met the most fastidious and the smartest folks, gave me no joywhatsoever. It is true I was very fond of my godmother, the Duchess ofWilmot, and of another dear little American friend, who had married amember of the Cabinet, Sir Henry Thesiger. But beyond these two I wassingularly free from any special attachments. The fact is, I was inlove with mother. Mother herself seemed to fill all my life. I feltsomehow as if father had put some of his spirit into me, and had boundme over by a solemn vow to look after her, to comfort her, to guardher, until he himself came to fetch her, and now my thought ofthoughts was how splendid and how necessary it would be to keep herusual comforts round my dainty, darling, lovely mother, to give herthe food she required, and the comfortable rooms and the luxury towhich she was born; and I felt that my pride, if I could really dothat, would be so great and exultant, that I should hold my headhigher than ever in the air. Yes, I would have a downright good try,and I vowed I would not fail. It seemed to me as I turned home againin the sweet golden summer evening that fortune's ball lay at my feet,that in the battle I would not be conquered, that like my father I inmy own way would win the Victoria Cross.