A CREATURE OF IMPULSE
"THEY are coming," exclaimed Sheila as she glanced quickly over the
letter in her hand.
The sun was shining into the breakfast room at Friars Court through the
open windows. It was a long low room with beams across the ceiling,
and panelled walls; and there was no nicer room in the house on a
sunny morning. The French windows were wide open and from them could
be seen the trees in the Park beyond the garden, and the hills in the
background.
Sheila stood reading her letter with the morning sun shining on her
pretty hair.
"Who are coming?" questioned Miss Gregson, as the girl looked up at her
with a pleased smile.
"My six children. I read in some paper that there were hundreds of poor
children in want of a change into the country from the very poorest of
poor homes in London, and I wrote at once to enquire about them. The
Society is so grateful and is sending down six on Monday. I am to have
them for a fortnight. I only hope the weather will last for that time.
Just fancy! A house full of children. Won't it be fun?"
"What a nice idea," said Miss Gregson. "When did you think of it?" Her
mind flew to all the difficulties of the plan, but she was so pleased
that Sheila should have thought of putting joy into the heart of six
little children that she was determined to say nothing to discourage
her.
"I only thought of it yesterday, and wired to the Society telling them
to write by last night's post. I always believe in acting at once.
Don't you?"
"I suppose they will send someone with the children to look after
them," said Miss Gregson.
"No, that will be the fun. I mean to do everything for them myself,
bathing them and putting them to bed included. If you do a thing at all
I believe in doing it thoroughly. It would quite spoil it if there was
a worker sent down with them."
Miss Gregson's heart sank. She knew how it would end. Sheila would be
tired of them before the first week was out.
"Where are you going to put them? Is there not a large empty room which
you could fit up with beds?"
"Yes. But I mean to give them the very best of everything. The girls
I shall put in the West room, which I have just had papered with the
rose pattern. It looks out on the rose garden you remember, and the
boys shall be in the East gallery. There are several beds in the attics
which can be brought down for them. You see I have thought it all out,
Angel dear."
Sheila was now pouring out the coffee, and Miss Gregson had gone to
the sideboard. She was aghast at the girl's arrangements, but she gave
herself time to think over what to say by asking—
"Eggs and bacon or fish, my dear?"
"Is there nothing else? Jane is getting lazy. She gives us the same
dishes every day. I'll have fish I think." Then she added, "I don't
think I have looked forward to anything so much in my life. I shall
tell Peter. He will be astonished that I have thought of anything so
nice and useful."
She rose from the table as she spoke to fetch the fish Miss Gregson was
helping, and put her arm round her chaperon impulsively.
"How glad I am that you are not a prude like that horrid old woman
that came when you left me to go to your mother. She would very much
have disapproved of my plan and would have placed all kinds of damping
difficulties in its way. But I know you'll be just as interested in
those children as I am, and won't mind a little noise in the house. I
mean to give them such a good time. I'm desperately hungry," she added,
as she took her seat at the table again. "It's the excitement."
"I think if I were you," mildly suggested Miss Gregson, "that I would
have that long room furnished for them rather than the West room that
you have just done up. You know they will be coming from very dirty
homes and it will be scarcely fair to your visitors who come after
them."
"The visitors must put up with that," answered Sheila calmly. "Of
course the room will be thoroughly turned out and scrubbed when the
children have gone; and just think what it will be to them to wake up
in the morning and find themselves surrounded with roses! Roses nodding
in at the window at them and roses on the walls. Oh, Angel dear, I do
bless my Uncle for leaving me this place, and plenty of money with
which to enjoy it. I had no idea how nice it would be."
Miss Gregson looked at the happy flushed face of her companion. How
could she damp her enthusiasm by bringing forward its many drawbacks.
The girl was full of delightful impulses, if only they would grow into
good actions and last at least for a while.
"My dear, I think the plan is charming; and with a little forethought
it may be made to work well, but it will need a lot of planning."
"Planning! forethought!" exclaimed Sheila impatiently, "I have planned
everything I assure you. They are to come by the two o'clock train on
Monday."
"Someone of course will bring them," said Miss Gregson. "I suppose she
will at least stay the night?"
"No one will bring them. They are to be put under charge of the guard,
and to come by a fast train that does not stop anywhere. I felt it
would be so much better, you see, for them to have to depend upon me at
once rather than on someone they know."
Miss Gregson sighed, and found before the first day of the visit
was over that her sighs were justified. She was so exhausted after
two or three hours of the company of the children, that she took
the opportunity of slipping away to have a few minutes rest on the
drawing-room sofa.
It was too late to expect callers, but nevertheless her sleep was
disturbed by the entrance of an elderly cousin of Sheila's who came in
and out of the house as he liked, and was welcomed wherever he went, as
his life was spent in doing kindnesses. If anyone was in trouble, or
in difficulties it was always Peter Fortescue who came to the rescue,
and with his kind and fatherly manner and comforting smile inspired
confidence. To Sheila he was father and brother in one, and she really
leaned on his advice, though she was of such an independent nature
that she would have confessed this to no one. Sheila amused Peter, but
at the same time he more often shook his head over her vagaries, and
never hesitated to tell her the truth. He sympathised greatly with Miss
Gregson and pitied her.
Although he had disturbed her needed sleep the latter was thankful to
see him.
"Where is Sheila?" he asked after shaking hands.
"In the garden. She has six poor little children from London for a
fortnight! And with no one but ourselves to look after them. We have
had a terrible afternoon, Mr. Fortescue."
Miss Gregson was flushed and tired.
"You look dead beat! An influx of six children to amuse and control is
no laughing matter. I suppose they are difficult to manage?"
"They were almost dumb with wonder the first hour, but unhappily this
soon wore off. They do not know the meaning of obedience. When I said
it was time to go to bed they rebelled. They wanted to see the horses
again, they said, and nothing would quiet them but to take them to the
stables. How we are to survive a fortnight of this kind of thing I
can't think."
"What are they doing now?"
"Sheila is telling them a story in the summer house, hoping to quiet
them."
Peter rose.
"I'll go and find these rebels," he said smiling. "I wish my dear
little cousin would ask my advice before she undertakes this kind of
thing. But," he added with a laugh, "she is not fond of advice from me
or anyone, else! I don't suppose she asked yours, did she?"
"Oh dear, no! That is the last thing she would do. She is a girl
of such noble impulses, it is a pity that she acts on them without
counting the cost."
"I daresay at this present moment she is enjoying it all hugely."
"She is perfectly happy; and you'll find her radiant. But to-morrow!
Well there is no use looking forward, is there?"
"None whatever. I'll go and see how things are going."
Mr. Fortescue found the little party in the summer house and stood
watching without being seen for a few minutes. Sheila was surrounded
with the six children, who sat on the floor at her feet. Both Sheila
and her audience were so engrossed that they did not notice Peter's
approach.
Though he utterly disapproved of the plan, he could not help thinking
what a pretty picture it made, and had Sheila been a girl who was
ready to take the consequences of her own actions, and would persevere
to the end, Mr. Fortescue could not think of a happier way in which
to spend some of her large fortune, than to bring happiness into the
lives of the poor little children that were listening to her story so
attentively. But alas! her cousin knew Sheila too well to hope for a
moment that Sheila would do her duty to them. The work would of course
devolve on the poor tired woman on the drawing-room sofa.
Suddenly a small boy caught sight of the intruder.
He rose and made a dash at him and tried to kick him.
"Go away," he cried, "we don't want you."
Peter took hold of his arm and made him face him.
"You are a nice young man to behave like this," he said with a laugh.
"You'll have to learn manners while you are here."
"Tommy, what do you mean by kicking that gentleman," remonstrated
Sheila. "Sit down and be a good boy."
Tommy put out his tongue at her.
The girl flushed.
"You must all go to bed," she said. "And oh, Peter, do go, there's a
dear. They were as good as gold till you came."
He turned away with a laugh, and made his way to the drawing-room to
talk over the matter again with Miss Gregson, and to assure her that he
was ready to help if needed, reminding her that as he lived only a few
minutes' walk from the Park gates he could easily come at any moment
of the day or night. He laughed as he said this, but poor Miss Gregson
could only sigh at the possible prospect of things coming to such a
pass that they would have to send for him at night!
Soon the sound of hurrying feet were heard and Sheila flew into the
room demanding the help of Miss Gregson.
"You simply must come," she said catching hold of her arm. "They are
all in rebellion and the smallest girl is crying for her mother. That
wretched little Tommy is slaughtering all the dahlia heads with Peter's
stick which he left behind him."
Miss Gregson looked appealingly at Peter.
"Can I be of any service?" he asked.
"I'm afraid you'll only make them worse," answered Sheila. "It would be
better for Miss Gregson to come as they know her."
Peter therefore stood by the door opening into the garden, so as to be
ready for any emergency. He was thoroughly amused, and wondered how
poor frail Miss Gregson would be able to get the refractory children to
bed.
He had not to wait long before he heard footsteps, and caught sight of
Miss Gregson, very red in the face, with a kicking child in her arms.
In a moment Peter was by her side.
"Come, my boy, none of this nonsense," he said, signing to Miss Gregson
to put him down. "A man never kicks a lady? You want to be a man don't
you?"
Peter's voice was stern, and the child somewhat awed left off
screaming, and stood with his fingers in his mouth surveying him.
Mr. Fortescue returned the look gravely and silently. There is nothing
much more powerful than the human eye to quell rebellion in the young.
The child suddenly hid his face in Miss Gregson's skirts.
"Now," said Peter quietly, "you will go to bed at once like a good boy.
Good-night." Jemmy followed Miss Gregson closely, tripping up in her
dress. The quiet voice and grave eyes had done their work, and Miss
Gregson and the housemaid between them undressed and bathed the child
without any more trouble, and Jemmy for the first time in his life
lying between lovely white sheets, soon fell asleep.