They all sat down to dinner, which Effie further noticed was a great
deal more luxurious than when she held the purse strings. There was a
nice little joint of roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, and one or two
vegetables. This course was followed by an apple tart and custard; and
then the board was graced with some russet apples and walnuts and a
bottle of port wine.
Effie felt such a sense of consternation that she could scarcely eat
this pleasant food. But Mrs. Staunton, George, Lawson, and the younger
children enjoyed the dinner thoroughly. When the beef was taken away,
there was very little left on the joint; and as to the fruit tart, it
vanished almost as soon as it was cut. Effie could not help wondering to
herself how £150 a year could meet this lavish style of living.
Lawson talked very pleasantly during dinner. After glancing toward Effie
several times, he suddenly remarked:
"I cannot help feeling that I know your face," said he. "Where and when
have we met before?"
"I saw you last night," said Effie, with a smile.
"You saw me last night! What in the world do you mean?"
"Yes," said Effie. "Don't you remember No. 17, in B Ward? You came in to
stop that terrible hemorrhage from the lungs from which she was
suffering."
"B Ward at St. Joseph's?" exclaimed Lawson.
"Oh, my dear Effie, now I beg of you not to allude to horrible things at
dinner," exclaimed Mrs. Staunton.
"No, mother; I am sorry I mentioned it." Effie colored up.
"What have you to do with St. Joseph's?" said Lawson.
"I am a probationer in B Ward, under Sister Kate."
"Never! how extraordinary! Now I remember, you are the girl who held the
basin. So you really are a probationer! A fresh one! Have you been there
long?"
"Just a week."
"Well, let me congratulate you on one thing, you held that basin without
shaking it; I expect you have got plenty of nerve. Of course, I knew I
must have seen you before; I never forget a face."
Lawson presently went out with George for a walk. Agnes dressed the
children and took them with her to the Sunday school, and Effie was
alone with her mother.
"Come and sit by me, darling," said Mrs. Staunton. "It is so very nice
to have you home again; I miss you very much, my dear daughter. But I am
really getting better. George wants me to consult Dr. Davidson at St.
Joseph's Hospital. He thinks that your dear father may have been
mistaken about my heart, and that it may get quite strong and well
again."
"If you feel better, I don't think I would consult anyone," said Effie,
trembling a little.
"Well, dear, well, there's no hurry about it. But I always notice,
Effie, and it distresses me not a little that any suggestion of
George's you are likely to pooh-pooh; now, surely that is scarcely fair
to him, dear fellow? You must notice, my love, how cheerful and pleasant
we have made this room. George insisted on my getting new curtains--only
white muslin, you careful child. They cost really very little, but they
do make such a difference in the effect. Then he has also determined
that I shall live better, plenty of meat and a little port wine. It is a
most _false_ economy, my dear, not to attend to one's diet. There's
nothing else keeps up the health."
"Yes, mother, I know all that; but good, expensive, nourishing things
have to be paid for."
"Now, Effie, don't let me hear you begin that dismal plaint. Do you
really mean to insinuate that I, your mother, would go into debt for
things?"
"Oh, no, dear mother! how could I think that?"
"You imply it, my love, by your manner."
Effie sighed.
It was hopeless to argue or remonstrate. She felt as if the little home,
so different from the beloved one in Whittington, was in reality
constructed over a volcano--any day it might collapse. The weight of
sorrow which pressed against her heart as she thought of this, of her
father, of the old life, quite crushed the brave spirit for the moment.
Where was George's honor? How dared he lead his mother into these
extravagances, when he knew, too, when he knew----
Effie clasped her hands tightly together. She restrained her emotions
with an effort, and turned the conversation to indifferent matters.
Mrs. Staunton was certainly in better spirits. There was a little color
in her cheeks, and some of the old sweet brightness in her eves.
When George had been absent about an hour, she grew restless and
_distraite_; she left her seat by Effie's side, and, going to the
window, looked up and down the street.
"I hope the rain isn't coming on," she said; "he forgot to take an
overcoat."
"Who, mother?"
"George."
"But really, mother dear, he isn't sugar; he won't melt."
"There you are again, Effie, making little of your brother. It so
happens that he has a nice new coat on to-day, and I don't want it to
get shabby at once."
"A new coat! How did he buy it?"
"I lent him a little money for the purpose; he didn't go into debt, so
you need not think it."
"I wonder you were able to spare the money."
"Oh, yes; some of my dividends fell due, and were paid on Monday. I lent
George three pounds; I think he has got a wonderful coat for the money.
He will pay me back as soon as he gets his own salary. Ah! and there he
is, dear fellow, and that nice-looking young man, Mr. Lawson. Effie, now
do ring the bell; Mrs. Robinson ought to have tea on the table."
With a great effort Effie kept from making remarks which she knew would
only irritate her mother.
She said to herself, "There's no help for things to-day. The person to
talk to is George; he ought not to allow mother to rush through her
money in this way. I wonder if I am doing wrong in giving up my
home-life to the hospital; but no, I don't think I am. Mother would have
insisted on managing the money in any case."
Mrs. Robinson appeared with the tea-tray. There was a little jug of
cream and a shilling Madeira cake; there was also a great plate of
thick bread and butter for the children. The tea-tray was placed on the
table, and George and Lawson took their tea standing. Effie helped them.
Lawson looked at her once or twice, and thought what a wonderfully nice
face she had, how true her eyes were, how good she seemed altogether.
"She's altogether of different metal from her brother," thought the
young man. "I wish with all my heart he were like her; but although
there is something lovable about him, and we are chums, of course, yet I
never feel quite sure of myself when in his company."
The meal which followed was quite merry. Phil and Marjory had gone up to
the top of their class in Sunday school; Agnes was promoted to teach a
class of very little children; Katie was going in for the Junior
Cambridge Examination, and eagerly consulted Effie about some books
which she was obliged to procure. Effie promised to give her the money
out of her first month's salary.
"But that will be some time off," she said, "for I am only going through
my month's trial now, so you must be patient, Katie."
"I'll lend you the money," said George, stroking his sister's hair.
He looked so affectionate and handsome, and so manly and good-humored,
that it was impossible not to feel pleased with him. Mrs. Staunton's
eyes quite beamed as she glanced at her eldest son.
"Now, mother, I am going to sit near you," he said. He drew his chair
close to his mother, and began to talk to her in a low tone.
Effie and Lawson exchanged a few words over hospital work. He would make
an enthusiastic doctor some day! he loved the profession and thought it
the noblest in the world. He reminded Effie a little of her father.
The quick hours flew all too fast. Effie's time was up. She went back to
the hospital with a curious sense of uneasiness, but equally also of
rest and refreshment. It was nice to think that George had such a good
friend as Fred Lawson.