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She was now the sole guardian and care-taker of her four young brothers, and although she was possessed of splendid talents, and could have earned plenty of money as a first-class teacher, she had not the required certificates to enable her to take any high position in the educational world. Cecil was too proud to complain, but the feeling that for lack of certain technical knowledge she must always keep in the background that her gifts, however great, could by no possibility meet with recognition had a terribly damping effect on her life. Miss Pinchin's remarks to her that very morning had seemed like the final extinguisher to every hope; now, however, she could afford to laugh at Miss Pinchin. After all,
what did Mrs. Lavender want her for? Why did she ask her to go to her in such a hurry? Why did she pay her fare up to town? Oh, yes, hope was again in the ascendant; hope was sending Cecil's young spirits up to a high pitch. How delightful it was to be flying along at express speed in a first-class carriage! how luxurious those padded cushions felt! how lovely the autumn tints on the trees looked! There was Windsor Castle in the distance; now she caught a peep of the river Thames. How beautiful the world was, after all!
"Oh, I shall succeed!" said Cecil to herself. "After all, I shall succeed! Maurice shall have the wish of his heart, and the three other boys shall start in the world as gentlemen. I will do all this for them. Yes, yes! Oh, I promised mother when she was dying! I vowed to succeed, and I will; I must, I shall. I am young, and the world is before me, I feel the ball at my feet. Won't I give it a good kick when I get the chance? Oh, if only mother had lived, what an old age of happiness I could have given her! But there, I dare not think of that; but I will succeed for the boys' sakes, and for the sake of her sweet memory oh, yes, oh, yes!"
The train arrived in due course at Paddington. Cecil did not know London well, and she had difficulty for a moment or two in keeping her head in the midst of the whirl in which she found herself. At last, however, aided by an intelligent porter, she threaded her way in safety to a hansom, gave the man Mrs. Lavender's address, and was soon whirling away into a fresh world. The distance from Paddington to Bayswater was accomplished in a little over ten minutes. The hansom drew up abruptly before the deep portico of a tall house, and Cecil, feeling once more nervous and strange, ran up the steps. The door was opened to her by a neat parlor-maid, who told her that she was expected, and took her immediately up a low flight of stairs into a beautiful drawing room.
"Will you take a seat, miss," she said, "while I go and tell my mistress that you have arrived?"
Cecil sank into a deep armchair, and looked about her. She had never been in Mrs. Lavender's house before, although she had often been regaled with descriptions of it from Molly. Molly's holidays were spent in these rooms. Yes, the drawing room was very pretty handsome, perhaps, was a better word. There were a great lot of gimcracks, as Maurice would term them, about: heaps of little tables, lots of chairs of every description, pictures, photographs, a stand of lovely ferns, a tall palm in one corner, and just behind the palm, what? Cecil, who was beginning to feel lonely and a little strange, jumped up suddenly, pushed the palm slightly aside, and gazed with delight at a water-color drawing of Molly it represented Molly's sweet, frank face at its best. The eyes smiled into Cecil's now, assured her of Molly's faithful love, and cheered her inexpressibly.
The door opened behind. Cecil turned eagerly; the parlor-maid had again entered the room; she carried a little tea tray in her hands.
"Will you please help yourself to some tea, miss?" she said. "Mrs. Lavender begs that you will do so. When you have quite finished, will you kindly ring this bell, and I will come and take you to your room? My mistress says she will be glad to see you in her own boudoir at six o'clock, miss."
"Thank you," replied Cecil.
The maid left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
"What a quiet, hushed sort of feeling I have!" thought Cecil to herself. "At home, doors bang everywhere; don't the boys make a clatter, even when they move! Even Miss Marshall is not the quietest of souls. Yes, everything is restless at home, and here there is peace. I believe I could study here or no, perhaps instead of studying I should go to sleep. I might become a lotos-eater, there's no saying. Well, there is no chance of my lot falling to me in this quiet place, and perhaps I am glad; but, at any rate, a little rest is delightful, and this tea looks delicious."
Cecil helped herself, pouring the tea into the dainty china, dropping in tiny lumps of sugar, and pouring cream out of a little embossed jug of old silver. She was very thirsty, and ended by drinking all the tea which the little teapot contained, and finishing the wafer-like bread and butter, which was scarcely a sufficient meal for her healthy young appetite.