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Updated: May 13, 2025
At last she said "Miss Meliora, do people ever grow rich as artists?" "But Michael has peculiar notions. However, I feel sure he will be a rich man yet like Sir Joshua Reynolds, and Sir Thomas Lawrence, and many more." Olive began to muse again. Then she said timidly, "I wonder why, with all your love for Art, you yourself did not become an artist?"
Then she went up to her brother. "Michael, if you will take me, I should like to go too." "What!" cried Mrs. Rothesay, "you, my dear Miss Vanbrugh, who are so thoroughly English who always said you hated moving from place to place, and would live and die at Woodford Cottage! "Hush hush! we'll not talk about that, lest he should hear," said Meliora glancing half frightened at her brother.
"Spero meliora," retorted Selwyn, laughing; but there remained the obstinate squareness of jaw, and his amused eyes were clear and steady.
They did not meet until evening, when Olive saw Miss Vanbrugh quietly and sorrowfully watering her flowers, with a sort of mechanical interest the interest of a mother, who meekly goes on arranging all things for the comfort and adornment of the child from whom she is about to separate. It made Olive sad; she went into the garden, and joined Meliora. "Let me help you, dear Miss Vanbrugh.
She might be angry so I had rather not be alone, if you will come, Miss Rothesay?" Olive consented at once; there was in her a certain romance which, putting all sympathy aside, quite gloried in such an adventure. They walked for a mile or two until they reached a miserable street by the river-side; but Miss Meliora had forgotten the number.
"Indeed, my good woman, I only meant to offer you sympathy, or any help you might need in your illness." The woman refused both. "I tell you we want for nothing." "Ma mie, I am so hungry!" said little Christal, in a tone between complaint and effrontery. "I will have something to eat." "You should not speak so rudely to your mother, little girl," interposed Miss Meliora. "My mother!
"You, my dear, you want money!" cried Miss Meliora, who had always looked upon her new inmate, Mrs. Rothesay, as a sort of domestic gold-mine. But she had the delicacy not to press Olive further. "I do. I can't tell you why, but it is for a good a holy purpose Oh, Miss Vanbrugh, if you could but show me any way of earning money for myself!
The girl started, as one does at the sound of some old tune, heard in youth, and forgotten for years; her gaiety ceased; she put her hand before her eyes; but when the door opened, she was her old self again. No child "frayed with a sprite" could have looked more alarmed than Miss Meliora at the sudden vision of this elegant young damsel, who advanced towards her.
She alone holds the warrant for this spirit in future ages, provided she be not destroyed at the sacrilegious hands of the modern world. "But Di meliora! Avaunt, ye pachyderms, avaunt! This is the German language, by means of which men express themselves, and in which great poets have sung and great thinkers have written. Hands off!" *
Miss Meliora looked as if she could have sunk into the earth! Year after year, from the sum left in the bank, she had paid the school-bill of her self-assumed charge; but that was all. After-thoughts, and a few prudish hints given by good-natured friends, had made her feel both ashamed and frightened at having taken such a doubtful protégée.
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