LYNETTE'S SCRAPE
DENYS told us his adventure the next day. I'll write it down as he said
it, because it will be easier. He had been up and down the river near
us trying to fish.
"I had no luck the first day at all," he confessed, "so yesterday I
went higher up; it's a long way from here, and I got into a jolly shady
part, where I saw the fish simply leaping to get to me! And then they
began to bite, and I had a lovely time. Some of them were rather small,
but they were good trout, and I soon had my basket full. The next thing
was to sell them, so I thought I'd make a visit to a few farmers about
here on my way home and see if they would buy any. And then I saw a
rather big house standing back in a lot of trees, so 'nothing venture,
nothing have,' I said to myself, and up I went to it as fast as my
legs could carry me. Just before I got to the house, I saw an old chap
sitting in a garden-chair and smoking a big pipe. So I took off my hat
to him, and he stopped me and asked me who I was.
"'I'm a kind of fish-hawker,' I said. 'I'm selling fish, and I thought
your cook might like to buy.'
"He stared at me as if I were a chimpanzee.
"'Have the goodness to open your basket,' he said.
"I showed him my basket with pride. He glared at me.
"'Where did you get these fish—in what part of the river?'
"I pointed it out to him.
"'I've only had luck to-day,' I said; 'I suppose I didn't go to the
right spot first. I'll let you have the lot for two shillings, sir.
Beautiful and fresh, just caught.'
"He gave a laugh.
"'Who turned you into a fish-seller?' he asked.
"'I turned myself,' I said. 'I'm trying to earn an honest penny to buy
a donkey.' And then I told him our plan.
"He seemed awfully tickled, but took out half a crown, and gave it to
me.
"'Take the fish up to the house,' he said; 'and bring me a basket again
to-morrow.'
"Well, I went on up to the house, and gave my fish in, but there was a
groom standing by who asked me where I had got it. I told him.
"'It's lucky Morris didn't nab you,' he said. 'That's the mester's
private bit of water, and he prosecutes like mad if any one dares to
trespass.'
"I didn't say anything, but just walked off, and then I began to feel
rather beastly. I knew now why the old chap had grinned so. But I
wasn't going to be made a fool of, so I marched up to him and told him
I'd like him to take his half-crown back.
"'I've found out it's your own fish, sir,' I said. 'I'm sorry I
trespassed. I won't do it again.'
"'Here!' he said. 'You keep what you've earned. We'll consider you're
fishing there with a permit from me. It isn't often I get a chance of
buying my own fish! I used to be a keen fisherman once, but my gout has
stopped all that.'
"'Well,' I said, 'if you think it square and fair, I'd like to keep the
money, for I did have a lot of trouble with those fish. But I won't
fish there again; I'd rather not, for your keeper will be nabbing me.
I'm much obliged to you, sir. Good afternoon.'
"So I took off my hat and came off, and he laughed as if it were a good
joke—but I've got the half-crown."
"Well," I said slowly, "it seems you aren't much better than us after
all, for you are catching fish that aren't yours."
"But I'm not going to do it again," said Denys hastily. "I shan't go
near the old chap's place. I shall try miles away from him. I know
father has fishing rights a part of the way."
"Who is the old gentleman?" I asked.
"He is the Squire of Benton—General Walton his name is; he didn't ask
my name, which showed he was a gentleman."
"You said he asked you who you were, the first thing," said Aylwin.
"Yes—he meant my occupation," said Denys grandly. "Gentlemen don't ask
each other their names; it isn't good form."
"Well now, as all the plans are known, I'll tell you mine," said
Aylwin. "I'm a farm labourer, and I'm doing more work than all of you
put together!"
We roared with laughter.
"All right!" said Aylwin, getting very red in the face. "You go and
ask old Cummins! He was telling father on Sunday what a busy week he
was going to have with his hay, and how he was one man short, and how
difficult it was to get labourers. I went to him early Monday morning,
and told him I'd work as well as any labourer if he'd give me pay,
and he finally said he'd give me lad's pay, because I told him what I
wanted money for. I didn't want him to think I was so hard up as to
take his labour if I hadn't a purpose. And I've been working hard ever
since, and I shall get my pay Friday night, when he hopes to get all
the hay in."
We rather admired Aylwin's plan, but we began to wonder how long it
would be before we got enough money. I suddenly thought of another
plan, and I rushed straight off to Mrs. Tapson's to ask about it. This
was to send a hamper in by Bob every Tuesday and let Mrs. Dutton sell
it for me. Mrs. Tapson thought it a splendid idea, so I came home and
asked father if I could do it, and he said Yes, as long as Baldwin only
gave me what could be spared.
And then we all felt a little flat, because now our secrets were
known there was no mystery, and we love mysteries. Next week we begin
lessons. I wasn't a bit surprised when Lynette came rushing to me the
next afternoon, saying:
"Oh, Grisel, I'm in the awfullest scrape; do help me!"
Lynette always comes to me when she has been doing anything outrageous,
and she always gets into scrapes when she has nothing to do. She
told me she had been swinging on the gate, when she saw passing down
the road the little girl I had seen before in the pony-cart. She was
quite by herself, and she went into Mrs. Ribbon's shop and left her
pony outside, without any one to hold it. Lynette followed her out of
curiosity, and then without thinking—Lynette never thinks when she
wants to do a thing—she jumped into the pony-trap, and drove it down
the village.
"It was only for fun, Grisel," she said. "I meant to come back in two
minutes, and she wouldn't have known. But I gave the pony a little
flick with the whip, and he tore like the wind, and I couldn't stop
him. When I knew I couldn't stop him—" here Lynette's eyes twinkled
with mischief—"I sat back and prepared to enjoy myself. We tore along
like furies, and then we came to Cross Glen village, and he turned up
through some big open gates. Then I began to get frightened, for I know
our squire lives there; father told me so. Such a big house, Grisel!
And directly we got up to it the pony stopped short, and a butler came
down the steps, looking quite scared when he saw me.
"'Where is Miss Clarice?' he asked.
"I got out of the trap as quick as I could.
"'She's in our shop,' I said, 'and the pony ran away with me.'
"Then I felt awfully frightened, Grisel, and I ran away down the
avenue, and hid amongst some shrubs at the bottom, for fear any one
would see me. At last I ventured out, and climbed over the hedge, and
came home by the fields. I'm so hot and tired."
"But how awful of you, Lynette! Where's the little girl?"
"I don't know. I suppose she walked home. Do go across to Mrs. Ribbon's
and find out, Grisel. I hope they don't know it was me!"
"Go yourself!" I said crossly.
Then Lynette put her arms round my neck.
"Darling Grisel, I do love you so! You will just go, won't you? Because
nobody will know you have anything to do with it."
So of course I had to go, and Mrs. Ribbon was in an agitated state of
mind as she told me what had happened.
"'Tisn't often one of the little ladies from the Hall comes to my
humble shop," she said: "And then! You could have knocked me down with
a feather when I heard the pony galloping away! I was just servin' her
with a ounce of Miss Lynette's toffee, and I were makin' her laugh when
I telled her who made it, when we heard a noise, and her and I runs
to the door, and there we seed Miss Lynette, her hair a-flying like
a golden cloud in the air, a-tearin' round the road just for all the
world like one o' these motor machines.
"'Stop her!' cried Miss Clarice. 'She's run away with my pony!'
"But one might as well stop a flyin' swaller! Then I begged the little
missy to sit down in my shop and wait. But she were real angry, and
she stamped her foot, and said, 'My mother will have that toffee girl
punished.'
"And then she marches out and down the road. And if Lady Laura do hear
of it, she will come up and ask me why I didn't let someun' hold the
pony, and like enough she'll make it hot for me. I wouldn't do nothin'
to offend her ladyship for all the world, for this be her house, and I
be her tenant."
"Well, I'm very sorry, Mrs. Ribbon, but you know what Lynette is.
The toffee has kept her quiet for a little, but she's always doing
something she oughtn't. Do you think the little girl has got home
safely?"
"How am I to tell? I've never seed or heard nothing since."
I came home thoughtfully. I hate being a tell-tale. That's one of the
things which are bad form—that, and bragging, and lying, and being a
prig. But I knew that father would find it out, and there's nothing he
hates more than finding out things. He likes us to tell our scrapes at
once. So I told Lynette to go and tell him, but she wouldn't, so I said
I should, and then of course she called me names, and father came into
the room when we were in the middle of a regular quarrel about it.
"What is the matter?" he asked.
"Lynette won't tell you something!" I said, and then I ran out of the
room.
Of course she did when I had gone, and father took her into his study
and talked to her for ever so long, and she came out crying. She told
me after that father made her write a little note of apology, and he
wrote himself to Lady Laura and told her how it happened. He told
Lynette he was continually being made ashamed of his children, and that
made Lynette cry awfully; it always does. But he kissed her before he
sent her away; father is very fond of Lynette—he says she reminds him
of mother.
The very next afternoon, which was Friday, Lynette and I were having
one of our washes in the bathroom. It is great fun. We fill the bath
half full of water, then we wash everything we can get hold of Puff
was there helping us. We wash all our combs and brushes first, and
all Lynette's dolls' clothes, and odd pocket-handkerchiefs, and our
lace tuckers, and anything about the house that looks dirty. Puff was
bringing us all kinds of things, and he had just plunged an old fur
monkey of his in the bath and we were laughing at his draggled look,
when Emma came hurrying in.
"Miss Grisel, you and Miss Lynette are to go down to the drawing-room
at once; there's company, and your aunt says you're to come now!"
"Oh, bother!" I said. "Who is it, Emma?"
Lynette and I were in our petticoats; we had taken off our dresses
because we splash so.
"It's the Lady Laura Londesburg and her little girl."
Lynette and I looked at each other with frightened faces.
"I won't go down," said Lynette—"I won't."
But Emma was dragging us into our bedroom and helping us to get into
our tidy frocks.
"We must, Lynette. Oh dear, I wish you hadn't done it. I should like to
be friends with that little girl!"
"I shouldn't, and I shan't!"
Lynette spoke crossly, and she wriggled away from Emma, who was trying
to brush her hair with one of our brushes we had just washed.
"Go away, Emma. I shall keep them waiting hours and hours for me. I
shan't be ready for 'years!'"
Emma went off in a huff.
And then I coaxed Lynette to be good, and in a minute or two she
brightened up—she is never cross more than five minutes—and she was
quite ready to come downstairs.
"I shall pretend I don't know anything about it," she said; "father is
out, so he won't tell!"
So we came into the drawing-room, and I was more frightened than
Lynette was. There sat the little girl on a chair, looking very pretty
in a white silk frock and hat, and Lady Laura was talking very fast to
Aunt Caroline. Everybody in the village is afraid of Lady Laura—why, I
don't know; she didn't look stern, and when she saw us she laughed out
loud.
"Which of you wrote me that pretty little note? I have come to forgive
you, and ask you to tea with my little girls to-morrow. Will you come?"
Lynette didn't look a bit ashamed of herself.
"It's me you have to forgive, please," she said; "I didn't mean to do
it."
Then Lady Laura shook hands with us, and we shook hands with Clarice.
She frowned rather at Lynette, but smiled at me.
"Have you got a nursery?" she asked.
"No, but a schoolroom. Will you come and see it?"
She followed us at once; Lady Laura said she might. We walked upstairs
without speaking, but at the top of the stairs Lynette said, "Would you
like to see our bath?"
She stared first, and then said "Yes," and we took her along.
We forgot we had left Puff there by himself, and when we went in we
found he had got our old cat and her two kittens in the water, and was
trying to wash them all. The kittens were nearly drowning. We were so
excited in getting them out, that we forgot to be shy, and Clarice
began to talk as fast as we did. She told us that she was a twin, and
her twin sister was called Beatrice, but that she had sprained her
foot, and couldn't walk, and the doctor said she must lie down for a
long time.
Puff looked at her for a minute, then he said:
"Would you like to wash somefing? My pinbefore is vewy dirty!"
He was tugging at it as he spoke, and I scolded him. Lynette was drying
the poor cat and kittens, and when they looked more comfortable, we
carried them downstairs to the kitchen to dry. Then we let the dirty
water go away in the bath, and turned on some more, and Clarice got
awfully excited, and we gave her a dirty old woollen sheep of Puff's to
wash.
We told her how we had tried to wash a rag doll once—it was Lynette who
did it—and she came rushing downstairs, saying, "She's bleeding fast,
come and look!"
And Aunt Caroline was awfully frightened, for Lynette's hands were all
red, and it was trickling red all down her pinafore. Aunt Caroline
screamed, and rushed upstairs, and there she saw the bath water quite
red, and it all came out of the red frock the doll had on. Of course
she had thought it was I who was bleeding.
Clarice loved that story. Presently we were sent for, and then we found
that Clarice's frock was simply soaking, and so was her hat. She was
what I call a messy washer. We tried to dry her.
But when we got downstairs Aunt Caroline was dreadfully cross, and Lady
Laura looked a little cross too. Clarice had to have Lynette's best
white frock—it just fitted her, and Aunt Caroline said to Lady Laura:
"I assure you I never know from moment to moment what will happen. I
can't tell you how distressed I am."
But Clarice's face was beaming.
"I enjoyed myself so awfully much, mummy. I never have such a nice time
at home!"
And then Lady Laura smiled.
"I expect you have your hands full, Miss Marjoribanks, but I must have
no washing when they come to tea with my little girls."
And then they drove away in a grand carriage and pair, and Lynette and
I had dry bread for our tea because we let Clarice splash herself.
I think that kind of thing is very unfair. We often get unfair
punishments from Aunt Caroline, but never from father. Aunt Caroline
thinks we ought to be more grown-up than we are. And we privately think
to ourselves that grown-ups are the dullest people in the world. And
they have the dullest time in the world, so we don't mean to be like
them before we can help it.