CHAPTER IV.

HUGH'S MENTOR.

The time soon flies past, every one being in a whirl of excitement which passes Mrs. Merivale's comprehension. But at last the day before that fixed for the party arrives, and the house is in a perfect uproar from attic to basement.

Mrs. Merivale has struck a bargain with the girls that, so long as they undertake to keep everything in connection with the theatricals out of her sight and hearing, she will promise to eschew all aches and pains, and take into her own hands the entire management of the rest of the entertainment. This is more in her line; and from little things the girls overhear from time to time they feel satisfied as to their Christmas party being a success.

On the day in question the general excitement reaches a pitch which defies description. Downstairs the cook has lately been reduced to a pitch of frenzy by the constant demand for paste, glue-pots to be heated, flat-irons, &c. To-day, however, she has struck against this, for has she not the supper of the next night to prepare? So she has shut her kitchen doors, and announced emphatically that under no pretext whatever will she open them to any of the young ladies or gentlemen until the party is over. Mr. Merivale is heard to declare that "there is not a place whereon to rest the sole of my foot," for even his bedroom is not exempt (on this the last day) from litter of various kinds. On one occasion, when sitting down for a few minutes' chat with his wife, Doris, looking in to ask a question, suddenly rushes across the room, and seizing her astonished parent by the lapels of his coat exclaims, "O, _father_, you're sitting on my Queen of Hearts dress! and you _must_ have smashed the crown flat! O, how _could_ you?"

There is to be a dress rehearsal this evening at half-past seven, and Colonel and Mrs. Danvers are coming to dine quietly, so that the former can enter upon his duties as stage-manager as well as practise his part of the "old woman."

It is about five o'clock, and Miss Denison and the young people are seated at tea in the school-room, when Jane enters, and addressing herself to Molly says rather mysteriously, "O, if you please, Miss Molly, Mr. Hugh is down in the hall, and he wants to speak to you most particular for a minute. I asked him to step into the drawing-room, but he said 'no,' nor he wouldn't come up here neither."

"What can he want?" says Molly, rising from her chair; "may I go, Miss Denny?"

Permission granted, down she runs and finds Hugh sitting disconsolately on one of the hall chairs, his hands in his pockets, and his eyes fixed moodily upon the ceiling.

"What are you sitting there for like a hall-porter?" she cries with scant ceremony; "and why couldn't you come upstairs like a reasonable being? Why, _what_ is the matter? You look as doleful as a crocodile!" And copying the expression of his face to a nicety, she plants herself before the young fellow and thrusts her hands into imaginary pockets. Then she suddenly bursts into irrepressible laughter.

"Well, you needn't laugh at a fellow! _You_ would look gloomy if after days and days of work you found yourself in the same quandary as I am. It's the shoe, that's what it is!"

"O, it's the _shoe_ that pinches, is it?" and teasing Molly goes off into fresh fits of laughter.

"Well, you needn't laugh! as I said before. The fact is I don't know how to get it here: it is so large, you see. It's really a beautiful shoe, and will hold a lot of youngsters, but the fact remains that I can't even get it out of the door of my own room! What's to be done?" A pause. Then Hugh goes on, "You see I want to get it in here while it is dark, because if anyone saw it being taken in they would think we were all lunatics, naturally."

Molly rests her chin upon her hand and ponders deeply. "How many pieces is it in?" she asks.

"Only three," mutters Hugh despondently.

"Well, now," says Molly, "why can't you take it to pieces again? I will help you, and it will be such fun lacing it all up again. We ought to have had it made _here_, in the house; then there would have been no bother at all. As it is, to take it to pieces is the only thing I can suggest. Shall I run and ask Miss Denny if I may go in now with you, and then we shall get it put together again in time for the rehearsal to-night?"

"Yes, do, and I will wait here. What a clever girl you are, Molly! I knew you would think of a way out of the difficulty."

"Pooh!" says Molly. "That's nothing. It's you boys who are so _helpless_ without us girls to manage for you! I won't be a second;" and away she bounds up the staircase.

In two or three minutes she reappears with a large piece of cake in one hand. Tucking the other through Hugh's arm she remarks (rather unintelligibly, her mouth being full of cake), "Miss Denny said I might, so I drank my tea standing, and--oh, have a bit of cake, do! I have only begun it on this side." Hugh with great gravity accepts the offer, Molly breaking off a good-sized piece of the great slice; and this matter being satisfactorily arranged, they quickly slip out of one door and in at the other. As they pass through the hall a door opens, and a refined, gentle-looking woman of about four or five and forty pauses on the threshold in surprise at the unexpected sight of Molly under the escort of her son at that time of the evening.

"My dear boy," she says, "what _are_ you doing with Molly? Why, do you know that the child has no hat on, nor even a wrap of any kind?"

"I _had_ a wrap, Mrs. Horton, but I have just thrown it off, and it was not worth while to put anything on my head."

"O, if you have only just come from next door that is a different matter," says Mrs. Horton, reassured. "What has Hugh dragged you in here for now?" she continues kindly while she puts one arm affectionately round the girl's shoulders. "It is surely your tea-time now, dear, and it is too bad if he has taken you away from that."

Hugh looks guilty, but Molly comes to the rescue for the second time.

"O, I didn't mind, indeed, Mrs. Horton," she says. "Hugh was so dreadfully put out about the shoe, you know, so I thought it best to come in and see what we could do about it. He didn't ask me to come at all; I offered to myself."

"I shouldn't have bothered Molly about it at all, mother," the young fellow puts in; "but you see it is your 'at home' day, and I didn't know whether every one had gone. And what to do about this blessed shoe I didn't know, with the time running on so fast too; and I had _promised_ to have it ready for to-night's rehearsal. Molly's a dear good-natured girl, and I knew she would find some way of managing."

"Well, Hugh, you know I would gladly have done anything I could for you about it; but of course, as you say, I couldn't very well leave my guests. Now, shall we go up and see what this tyrannical shoe requires?"

On reaching the large room upstairs which is devoted exclusively to the use of the boys, they find all the other four engaged in different occupations, more or less noisy. The babel of tongues ceases, however, at the sight of the trio looking in upon them, and there is a general rush towards the door. While Ted and Joey seize upon their mother, Regy and Alick dart at Molly, and dragging her across the room to where a funereal-looking object is reclining against the wall, they proceed to describe noisily the difficulties of the case.

"I wanted it lowered out of the window!" cries Alick, determined to be heard, "and hauled up again into yours. That would have been _quite easy_, you know, and not half the fuss in my opinion."

"Who cares for _your_ opinion, Alick?" says Regy contemptuously.

"No, but really," goes on the boy, not to be suppressed, "it will be an awful shame to take it all to pieces. Why, I declare I never knew Hugh to work at anything so hard before."

"Nor I," mutters Regy, glancing at his brother, who is leaning up against the mantel-piece staring gloomily at the object of discussion.

"Well, Molly knows best," he remarks decidedly, "so it's no use discussing it any longer. Who's got a pair of sharp scissors or a knife or something? Mother, you will help us take it to pieces, won't you?"

"And you and I and Colonel Danvers will soon have it together again when once we get it in there," says Molly, jerking her head in the direction of the next house. "O, good gracious, what's this?" she exclaims, as she trips up over some hard object sticking out from under the shoe.

"Why, it's one of the supports--_wood_, you know," explains Ted, nodding solemnly at Molly. "You weren't such a goose as to think cardboard would stand up in that way alone, were you?"

"Where are your manners, Ted?" puts in Hugh. "Molly, did you hurt yourself? Come round, and let me show you the whole concern."

The "whole concern" having been duly admired, and all its points of beauty expatiated on, they all set to work, and in a very short time the shoe is once more in three distinct pieces; and while the boys are busily taking the laces out with elaborate care, Molly, thoroughly at home in the house, as indeed are all the girls, strolls out of the room and down the passage to a little room at the end--Hugh's private sanctum and study.

"_Study_, indeed!" thinks Molly to herself as she stands looking scornfully round; for the room, it must be confessed, does not suggest the idea of any very violent mental work going on within its four walls. Books there are in plenty, certainly: good, substantial, solid reading too; but there they are, comfortably reposing on their shelves, "looking," as Molly says to herself, "as if they had not been touched for the last six weeks." She has just marched up to the books in question, and is in the act of drawing her finger along their dusty backs, when Hugh puts his head in at the door.

"Now, Miss Molly, what are you doing in my study?" he demands, "and what are you turning up that elegant little nose about? Come, what's wrong, eh?" And crossing over hastily, he reaches the girl's side just in time to see her finish writing with her finger the word "dust" in large capital letters.

"_That_ is what is wrong," she says, turning round slowly and facing the young fellow; "d-u-s-t, _dust_! A fine study indeed!" she continues, glancing round contemptuously. "Look how painfully tidy the rest of the room is! My goodness, you should just see our school-room when we are in the thick of our lessons and really mean business! Doris and I get covered with ink, and our hair gets all rumpled up, and sometimes we stick pens into it without knowing. Honor knits her brows and frowns away like anything, and Miss Denison's voice is several degrees more severe than usual. Oh, I assure you we look _tragic_ when we really _are_ working! I should like to know, now, what use it is your going to Sandhurst," she continues severely, "when you never so much as open a book at home? Ah! you are a lazy fellow, Hugh; and I don't believe you will ever pass all your exams. If you ever do get into the army (which I very much doubt) it will be by the backdoor, I verily believe."

"Why, what do _you_ know about the backdoor, Molly?" exclaims Hugh, bursting into uncontrollable laughter.

"O, I know all about it," replies Molly, nodding gravely. "I heard father talking about it to Colonel Danvers the other evening. Father was saying he wondered how Cyril Harcourt got into the army. And Colonel Danvers said, 'Oh, _he_ got in by the backdoor, you know.' So I asked father afterwards what it meant, and he told me by getting into the militia first; and I thought to myself, 'Ah! that's what Hugh will have to do.' And so you will, you know, if you ever do get in, which, as I said before, I very much--"

"No, don't say it again," says the young fellow, putting his hand over Molly's mouth. "I'll do anything in the world to please you, Molly, and I'll work like--like fury, only don't pitch into me any more. Encourage me a bit sometimes, and I shall do wonders yet. I daresay you could even help me sometimes if you only would. I don't mean in the actual way of studying, you know, though I believe you are a hundred times more clever than I am; but I mean as to keeping me up to the mark, and all that sort of thing."

"Yes, that's all very well," says Molly, shaking her head. "I do try to do that, I'm sure; but if you won't help yourself, _I_ can't help you. And look here, Hugh, it is all very well to say you will do it to please _me_; but what about your mother, who I know worries _dreadfully_ about you? It's downright wicked of you, when you come to think of it. Upon my word it is."

"So it is, Molly. You are quite right, and I deserve every word you are saying," says Hugh dejectedly.

"Now, will you make me a promise, like a dear, good boy?"

"Yes, that I will!" he cries with energy. "And what is more, I will keep it, my wise little mentor."

"That is right, Hugh. Well, I won't say anything about to-morrow, of course, because until that has come and gone I don't suppose we shall any of us know whether we are on our heads or our heels. But will you promise me that the next day you will really set to work--real _hard_ work, such as other young men do? Then you will soon make up for lost time, with your talents, which it is perfectly _sinful_ to throw away. You will very soon get used to it, and after a bit it won't seem such a trouble to you to work. And look here, Hugh," she adds, suddenly growing grave, and speaking in a whisper, "'Help yourself, and God will help you,' you know. Now, will you promise me?" And looking anxiously up into her companion's face, Molly holds out her hand.

"I will, Molly; upon my word I will," replies Hugh earnestly. And taking the girl's hand in both his own, he adds, "What a dear, good girl you are, Molly, and how I wish I had a sister like you! Ah! never fear, I shall fire away now and pass all my exams, in less than no time; and then you shall see what I can do afterwards, Miss Molly!"

"O, yes!" says the girl, moving towards the door, "I have no fear for you when once the studying is over; it is _that_ which is the stumbling-block, eh? But thanks so very, very much for your promise, dear Hugh. I consider your exams, all as good as passed, now that I have that. Hark! there they are calling us. All right--coming!" And away she darts down the passage, all life and fun again.

Hugh follows, in time to see her pounced upon by all the four boys, who, it seems, are in the midst of a violent dispute as to who shall have the honour of carrying in the several portions of the shoe next door. At last the question is settled, and the parts are carried with much caution and solemnity out of the Hortons' house and into the Merivales' by the three elder boys, Molly, escorted by Ted and little Joey bringing up the rear with the laces, &c.

"Good gracious!" exclaims Doris, whom they meet half-way up the staircase, "what a _time_ you have been! We are all ready; and Miss Denny, and nurse, and Honor have been dressing up Colonel Danvers, and he looks splendid!"

"Does he? All right! we shall not be two minutes in putting the shoe together again; come along, boys!" And away scampers Molly up to the school-room, closely followed by all the Hortons.

At last it is ready, and Colonel Danvers and Mr. Merivale, assisted by most of the boys, hoist it up satisfactorily into its place.

As the colonel is looking somewhat embarrassed in his petticoats, shawl, and big poke-bonnet, it is decided that the "old woman who lived in a shoe" shall be rehearsed next. It is also settled that this picture shall be placed first in the programme, instead of third as originally intended. This is partly because Colonel Danvers declares he shall be consumed with nervousness until his part is over, and he can once more appear in his own proper attire.

"You see, I am not used to petticoats and long gowns," he remarks plaintively; "so _please_ let us get that tableau over as early as possible!"

It being necessary to have everything in working order, the curtain is let down, and in the first trial rests itself triumphantly at one end on a part of the shoe, leaving a startling array of ankles and feet plainly visible to those looking on.

This being remedied, great consternation is caused by the sudden mysterious disappearance of Bobby. On search being made it is discovered that the curtain in its first descent has knocked him over into the interior of the shoe, from which strange, unearthly sounds are issuing. He is speedily rescued, however, apparently none the worse for his sudden collapse, except that his mouth, eyes, and hair are pretty freely filled with dust. Having, however, been once more set upon his legs, he soon recovers from his sneezing fit and joins in the laugh with the rest.

In the second trial all goes well, and the other pictures are duly rehearsed according to their order on the programme. After a few hours' steady practising they are one and all pronounced to be satisfactory by the audience, which, though limited (consisting only of Mrs. Merivale, Mrs. Danvers, and Mrs. Horton), is decidedly critical; and after a little light refreshment, for which they all betake themselves to the dining-room, the party is dispersed, the colonel in a devout state of thankfulness at feeling himself, as he expresses it, a man once more.