Frank was determined, answered the advertisement, forwarded a testimonial from Eton, which proved perfectly satisfactory, and concluded the engagement.
Then, by disposing of his watch, his studs, rings, pins, two guns, and a few other articles with which he determined to dispense, he managed to realise about eighty pounds; and with that capital he commenced the world, and started for Slopcombe.
CHAPTER III.
The Rev. H. Martin was the head-master of the Slopcombe Grammar Schoo1,—a school which had been once endowed, but whose revenues had gradually disappeared under the administration of a series of dignified trustees. It still possessed a large house, which head-masters found a convenient receptacle for as many private pupils as they could get. A few boys attended from the town occasionally, in virtue of their rights as citizens of Slopcombe; but a system of judicious snubbing on the part of the master, and of bullying on the part of the private pupils or boarders, who always outnumbered them, and between whom and the town-boys a traditional feud was carefully preserved, usually brought their education to an untimely close. As these young gentlemen paid nothing, and occasionally wore corduroys, we must fear that their defection was not duly regretted either by the master or the private pupils.
“Martin,” wrote Frank, in a letter to Herbert, “is a very nice fellow, good scholar, good temper, supports my authority,—is, in fact, generally jolly. The only wonder is, however he could have married Mrs. M.”
Ah, Frank! as you grow older, that constantly recurring problem of social life, “What could have induced Brown to marry that woman?” and its still more frequent phase, “What could Mrs. Smith have been thinking of when she accepted that brute?” will often defy your utmost efforts to supply a solution. We doubt if even Mr. Justice Cresswell could invent a formula general enough to take in a tithe of its cases.
In this particular case, our own private opinion is, that Martin drifted into it, as England did into war under the ministry of Lord Aberdeen.
Mrs. Martin was a woman with a shrewish tongue, an exaggerated opinion of her own dignity, and a most painful habit of fancying things which had no existence except in her own imagination. Anything which she could not understand,—and her intellectual capacity was not extensive,—she construed as a personal insult. Ainslie did not at all answer to her idea of what an usher ought to be, for in that light she persisted in looking at him, although her husband explained the peculiarity of his position, and wished that he should be treated as a gentleman: because Frank looked and acted like one, she was pleased to consider that he gave himself airs, and must be kept well down.
Her views on this subject were illustrated by a hundred petty annoyances, which for a long time rather amused Frank, than otherwise; but at last, as they lost their novelty, they became rather a bore, and Frank began to think about changing his quarters, when
A change came o’er the spirit of his dream.
How strange it is, that in a house in which there are already more than twenty people, the arrival of a little fair-haired girl of seventeen should make such a wonderful difference. Yet, after Mr. Martin’s youngest sister, Clara, had been there a week, all Frank’s ideas of departure were gone so entirely, that he could scarcely conceive he had ever entertained them.
Slopcombe is situated in rather a pretty part of Devon, and there were two or three places in the neighbourhood which it was absolutely necessary that Clara should see.
As Mr. Martin was discussing with his sister what day they should go to Eveleigh, which was to be their first excursion, she immediately suggested that he should give the boys a holiday and take them too.
“But you would not really like it,” he replied; “I am afraid they would bore you awfully.”
“Indeed I should, better than anything; it will be such fun.”
Mr. Martin was pleased, and readily gave his assent. Who can refuse anything to a pretty little sister? I fear, however, that Clara was not very sorry when Mrs. Martin decided that the distance would be too great for her to accompany them, especially as there were several visits which it was absolutely necessary for her to pay.
Eveleigh was about five miles from Slopcombe, so Mr. Martin drove his sister over in the pony-chaise, and Frank Ainslie and the boys joined them there. Frank was a great favourite. When he first arrived, his youthful charges tried the series of experiments which the advent of a new master usually provokes, but almost all were failures. Fresh from Eton there were very few dodges to which he was not up, and superior knowledge even of mischief is always respected. But the incident which perhaps tended to establish his position most was the following. A hopeless little sneak (some are always to be found even in the best regulated establishments), told Frank one day of some paltry offence which another boy had committed. “When I had found this out, as I certainly should have done,” said Frank, “I should have given the offender twenty lines. You will now learn a hundred for telling tales of your school-fellow.” Cricket received such an impetus from his arrival, that the Grammar School challenged the town club—an invitation which that association declined with scorn, saying that they did not play with boys; a judicious evasion on their part, as they would certainly have been beaten if they had.
They had a delightful walk to Eveleigh, the elder boys roaming in twos and threes, and the younger ones crowding round Frank, with reference to a wonderful story which he related for their especial edification.
The pony-chaise passed them just as they came in sight of their destination, and they greeted its occupants with three cheers; whether the remembrance that the cold meat and apple-pie were contained in the same vehicle may have given