Hunters Marjory | Page 8

scene in the study, she
remembered the look on his face as she said these words. "It was as if I
had struck him," she thought; and then came more tears and sobs.
Mrs. Forester's motherly heart yearned over the girl as she made her
confession. Brokenly and with many tears the story was told, and relief
came to Marjory in the telling of it. Blanche, with instinctive tact, had
walked away a little distance with Silky, so that Marjory should feel
free to talk to her mother. When the recital was over, Mrs. Forester said
cheerfully, "I told you I thought I should be able to help you. First of all,

I have got some delightful news for you. Only to-day your uncle and I
have been making plans for you to share in Blanche's lessons. You are
to learn everything that she does, including French and music," with a
smile at the recollection of her battle against the doctor's prejudices.
A breathless "oh" was all that Marjory could say.
Mrs. Forester continued,--
"Blanche has a very good, kind governess. Unfortunately, she has
rather an ugly name, and it may make you smile. It is Waspe--W, a, s, p,
e--not pretty, is it? But she is as sweet as she can be, and very
accomplished, and Blanche gets on nicely with her. It will be much
more interesting for Blanche to have some one to share her lessons with,
and good for you too, won't it?"
"Oh, indeed it will!" replied Marjory, bewildered by this wonderful
piece of news.
"And in return for this I want you to teach Blanche all you can."
"I?" asked Marjory in surprise.
"Yes, you," with a smile at the girl's puzzled expression. "Blanche is a
little too much like her name at present; she isn't very strong. Living in
London didn't suit her, and it is for her sake that we have come to live
here. I want you to show her all your favourite nooks and corners, to
teach her all you know about the birds and flowers, and to let her help
you in your garden. Will you do this, and keep her out of doors as
much as you can?"
"I shall love it!" cried Marjory emphatically. "It's like a dream, and
seems too good to be true."
"Now, my child," continued Mrs. Forester seriously, "listen to me. I
think you have been doing your uncle a great injustice. You say you
called him unkind and cruel; he is neither the one nor the other."

"I know," replied Marjory in a low voice.
"He is very fond of you," said Mrs. Forester.
Marjory looked up quickly.
"He never says so," she objected.
"Ah!" said Mrs. Forester, "now we have got to the root of the whole
matter. So, then, just because her uncle doesn't say, 'Marjory, I am very
fond of you,' therefore Marjory thinks that he doesn't care for her very
much."
Marjory nodded.
"My dear child, you never made a greater mistake. It is not in your
uncle's nature to say much; he is content with doing things for you.
This afternoon he talked of nothing but his plans for you, his ideas for
your education--how his first care has been that you should grow strong
and healthy amongst those outdoor things that you love. For your sake
he has been content to stay in this obscure place, when he would
receive the recognition he is entitled to if he went more into the world.
His very meals he takes at times which he considers best for you. Look
at your frock. Perhaps you don't think much of it, but let me tell you it
is made of the very best tweed that Scotland can produce. Your boots
are strong and sensible-looking, but they are of the finest quality of
leather; your stockings are the best that money can buy. Let me see
your handkerchief. Ah! I thought so," as Marjory obediently produced
from her pocket the little hard, wet ball her tears had made. "This is a
plain handkerchief, but so fine that it is fit for a princess to use. I don't
suppose you ever thought about these things; but it must mean a great
deal of trouble and care to your uncle to get them for you. He told me
he looks after your wardrobe himself. Now, haven't I proved that he
thinks about you a great deal?"
Marjory nodded.
"Don't you believe that, even if your mother had not left you provided

for, your uncle would have been glad to keep you--that he would never
have felt you a burden?"
"I don't know," said Marjory slowly. She was beginning to see her
uncle in a new light, but she could not see him as he really was