"What is the matter?" I asked.
"Books!" she said. "Old leather! How I envy that woman!"
"What woman?"
"That commonplace person who has dared to marry your father."
"Oh well, Augusta, we had better not talk of that."
"Not talk of it? Why, it's a weight on my mind always. I only trust
she won't make him fall off. Rachel--Rachel Grant--you have a very
solemn responsibility before you."
"What is that?"
"The commonplace woman can do nothing, but you can do a great deal."
"In what way?"
"You, who are his child, must partake in some way of his nature."
"I never had the slightest influence on father," I responded. "I think
he often forgets that I exist. I shall certainly have less influence
than ever now."
"You have influence, but you won't use it. Oh that I were his
daughter!"
Augusta began to sniff again. Charley came into the room at that
moment.
"I thought dinner was served," he said.
He looked at Augusta.
"How do you do?" she said. "You are the son of the greatest of men."
"Bosh!" said Charley. He backed towards the door. "I thought," he
said, glancing from me to Augusta, and then from Augusta to me again,
"that dinner was on the table, and that you were sniffing the good
smell."
"Books! Books!" said Augusta.
Charley vanished.
"Take me to his library," said Augusta. "Just let me walk round it
once, will you?"
"Oh yes, if you like," I replied.
I took her round. She stepped softly in veneration. She took up a
volume; she seated herself on a chair; she opened it; she was lost.
"Augusta," I said.
There was not the most remote movement on her part.
"Augusta!" I said again.
Her lips quivered. She was repeating something softly under her breath.
"Come," I cried, "it is time for you to go home to your dinner, and it
is time for us to eat ours. Get up! Awake!"
No stir of any sort. Violent measures were necessary. I snatched the
hook from her hand, and in so doing upset the stool on which she was
sitting. To have her book taken away and her seat removed from under
her was sufficient to wake even Augusta Moore. She rubbed her eyes and
said, "Where was I?"
"Where you have no right to be," I said. "You really must go."
"But you will keep him up to the mark; you will take my advice, won't
you?"
"I tell you what," I said cheerfully; "if I can possibly manage it, I
will introduce you to him, and you shall talk to him. If you feel that
he is so near you--so like you in all respects--you will have much more
influence over him than I should, and you will be able to keep him up to
the mark yourself."
The next minute I had repented of my hastily formed decision, for
Augusta's long, thin arms were round my neck, and she was hugging me and
kissing me on my cheeks, and then hugging me again with frantic energy.
"Oh, you dear! You love! You beautiful creature! Oh! oh! oh! To
think of it! To think of it!"
"Dinner is served," said Charley, just poking his head round the door
and then vanishing.
At last I got rid of Augusta. When I arrived in the dining-room Charley
asked me if I had had a mad girl in the house who had broken loose from
an asylum. I replied with dignity that she was a very clever girl, and
then we proceeded to our meal.
The meal itself was quite plain--the usual sort--a piece of boiled beef,
carrots floating in gravy round it, and a few boiled potatoes. These
were to be followed by one of Hannah's apple-dumplings. Now,
apple-dumplings are supposed to be very good things, but I cannot say
that Hannah's recipe was worth preserving. The pastry was always very
hard, and the apples were never done enough; in short, we were all tired
of them.
"I can't imagine why the thing that smells so jolly good doesn't come
upstairs," said Charley. "It's too bad--it's worse than bad."
"Oh no," I answered; "don't say that, Charley. Hannah is keeping it for
supper. She is going to have a surprise supper; I know it for I saw the
cake."
"The cake!" cried Charley. "A cake made by Hannah?"
"Yes; and I can tell you it did smell pretty good. Oh, didn't it just!"
I smacked my lips in anticipation.
"I suppose we'll have to make this do," said Alex gloomily, helping
himself to another slice of tough beef.
Our conversation filtered away into mere nothings, then into
monosyllables; then it tailed off into utter silence. We were all very
depressed, and yet we were excited; we wanted we knew not what; we were
afraid, we could not tell of what. Each one of us had a sense that
things could never be the same again, that we were eating our humble
dinner and looking each into the humble face of the other for the last
time. Everything from that hour forward would be different. Would the
change be for the better? No, it could not be for the better. A
change, however, we were certain was coming. We did not speak of it; we
sat very still.
At last the boys said they would go for a walk; they did not ask me to
accompany them, nor did I offer to go. I ran up to my own room. I took
the pretty dark-blue dress which Miss Grace Donnithorne had given me. I
took the jacket, the little shoes, the stockings, all the things which
she had showered upon me when I was at Hedgerow House, and I put them
into the trunk which she had also presented me with--the pretty trunk
which I had been so proud of, and which bore my initials, R.G. On the
top of all the things I put a card with the words, "Returned with
thanks--Rachel Grant," written upon it. This little trunk I myself
conveyed to the bedroom which had been got ready for the Professor and
his wife. There was no attempt at making this room pretty, but a huge
fire burned in the grate, and that alone had a certain cheerfulness
about it. I put the little trunk at the foot of the bed. I did not
know what would happen. I felt afraid; nevertheless, I was quite
determined to let Miss Grace Donnithorne--Mrs Grant, as she was now--
know how things really stood.
At last the time came for me to make myself look as well as I could to
meet my father and his wife. I put on the blue evening-dress which I
had outgrown, brushed out my long hair, and went down to the parlour.
The parlour certainly looked very smart. Its central table alone was
worth the greatest admiration. There was a white cloth--very white
indeed--in fact, dazzlingly so; and the crockery (I cannot call it by
the name of china) seemed to me quite amazing. It did not matter that
none of the glass matched, and that there were plates of various sorts,
but what was all-important was the fact that the board groaned with
goodly fare. There was a huge piece of cold roast beef, a salad made
according to an old-fashioned recipe of Hannah's, a cake (frosted) in
the centre of the table, some jellies, some fruit, a pair of roast
fowls, and a ham. Oh, when before had the old house close to the
college seen such a feast?
Standing at the head of the table, with his arms folded and his eyes
fixed upon the goodly fare, was Alex; and standing at the foot of the
table, in precisely the same attitude, was Charley. They did not move
when I came in, and I did not speak, but went and stood at one of the
sides. Hannah bustled into the room.
"They'll be here in a few minutes, children," she said; "and don't
forget that I'm here to take your parts. Bless you, poor orphans--bless
you!"
Then she disappeared downstairs.
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" I said.
"For goodness' sake," said Alex, moving away from the table, "don't
begin to snivel, whatever you do, Dumps. She's a mighty silly old
woman."
"Oh, what a supper!" said Charley.
He gave a sigh of profound satisfaction. After a minute he said,
"Whatever sort of a step-mother she is, I am going to eat! I say, what
a supper!"
He had scarcely uttered the words before the sound of a cab stopping
outside the front door was distinctly heard.
"Shall we all go into the hall?" asked Alex.
"I'm not going to stir," I answered.
"Nor I," said Charley. "I can't keep my eyes off the supper. I'm
awfully afraid it's a sort of fairy feast, and will vanish if I don't
keep gazing and gazing at it."
The bell was pulled violently. Hannah came hurrying up the stairs. She
bustled into the hall. Charley went on tiptoe to the door of the
parlour. He came back again on tiptoe, with his eyes rounder than ever.
"What do you think?" he said. "Hannah has got a white satin favour
pinned upon her dress. Would you believe it? What a turncoat she is!"
"She's not," I answered. "She had to do it. We must be outwardly
civil."
"Yes, yes; that's it," said Alex.
"And for the sake of the supper it's worth while," said Charley.
The hall door was opened. My father's step was heard coming in; this
was followed by a lighter, much younger step. Then a cheerful voice
said, "Well, here we are.--And you are Hannah, I think? I have often
heard of you."
"The hypocrite!" I muttered; but Alex said, "Hush! Remember our
compact."
"I have often heard of you," said the cheerful voice. "How do you do?"
Hannah's reply was so muttered that it could not be heard in the
parlour. Then father said, "Where are the children? Dumps! Alex!
Charley! Come along at once!"
We all made a rush to the parlour door. We had to rush or we should not
have moved at all. We went into the hall. I felt at that supreme
moment that if I had not known Miss Grace Donnithorne in the past, and
had not really liked her very much, not to say almost loved her, I could
have borne my present position better. But having already known her,
the present position was almost unbearable. Nevertheless, things that
seem unbearable have now and then to be faced in life. My father called
in his cheerful tones, "Well, children, well! here we are back. Here's
your new mother. I trust you will all be as dutiful as she deserves. I
am sure it is very good of her to come and look after such harum-scarums
as you are. Now then, Dumps, you give her a right royal welcome."
"How do you do?" I said.
I held out my hand. The kindest--oh yes, I must say the words--the
kindest eyes in the world looked anxiously into mine; the pleasant mouth
relaxed as though it was preparing to smile; then it became grave, but
its expression was as sweet as ever.
"How are you, Rachel?" said she who used to be Miss Grace Donnithorne.
She bent forward and gave me a light kiss--not the affectionate embrace
she had bestowed upon me once or twice when I was at Hedgerow House.
"Take your mother upstairs, Dumps. Take her and show her her bedroom,"
said father. "Come along, you two boys; just come and tell me all that
has been happening at the college. My goodness, what an age it seems
since I went away!"
Father's tone and the mighty sigh of relief he gave did more to compose
my nerves than anything else. Miss Grace Donnithorne had not changed
him. I went up the stairs saying to myself, "She is not my father's
wife. She is only Miss Grace Donnithorne, a stoutish lady, middle-aged,
quite nice and fat and pleasant; she is not father's wife."
All the time these thoughts kept coming and going in my brain; but the
lady who followed me did not speak at all. That was quite unlike Miss
Donnithorne's way.
I opened the door of the big room. The fire had almost burnt itself
out; the room in consequence was cold. There was no gas of any sort in
this huge chamber; two poor, solitary candles had been placed on the
high mantelshelf, but had not been lighted.
"Dear me!" said the lady--and there was no mistaking the matter-of-fact
voice--"but this room is too cold for your father. Come along. Dumps,
you and I must see to this at once. Where can we get coals? Oh, this
hod is empty. Get some matches quickly, child, and some hot water.
Your father must have hot water, and we must have this fire made up.
Dear, dear! Dumps, our hands will be full. He is a very precious man,
you know, but a handful--a good bit of a handful--more than one child
could possibly manage, and more than one woman can manage, but between
us, Dumps--"
She took up the poker, and the fire was soon blazing again. Candles
were lit in a trice. Hannah appeared with a great jug of hot water.
"Where would you wish your hot water to be placed, Mrs Grant?" she
said. Her tone was very precise. There was a red spot on one of her
cheeks; the other was deadly pale. But the white satin favour! What
possessed her to wear it? It stood out with an aggravating stare on her
dark dress.
The new Mrs Grant turned at once.
"Put it here by the wash-hand stand," she said; "and bring some more
coals, please. This fire is not nearly large enough. The room is
chilly."
She spoke very cheerfully. Hannah left the room at once. Just at that
moment there came a knock at the door.
"Father says that supper is ready," said Charley's voice.
"Oh, I haven't spoken to you, Charley," said Mrs Grant.
She went to the door, took his hand, and wrung it.
"Good boy," she said. "You will help me all you can."
I saw him gazing at her very hard; then he went downstairs, almost like
a flash. I wondered what he was going to say to Alex.
Meanwhile I stood silent by the fire. Miss Grace Donnithorne, that was,
faced me. She had removed her hat and taken off her jacket. She had a
little comb in her pocket; with this she smoothed out her hair. She
went to the wash-stand and washed her hands. Hannah appeared with the
coals.
"Put a good many on, please, Hannah. I want the room to be quite warm,"
said the new mistress.
Hannah obeyed. The late Miss Grace Donnithorne looked round the room.
"Much too large," she said.
"All the rooms are large in this house," I answered.
"Oh, we'll choose a cosier one than this--eh, Dumps?" she said.
"Can't find one in this house," was my response.
"Well, this will do for to-night."
She looked at me. The kindness in her eyes seemed kinder than ever. It
would have been difficult, had she not been my step-mother, to resist
her; but being my step-mother, I stood very cold and still, responding
quite civilly when she spoke, but not offering any advances on my part.
She had washed her hands now, and the fire was blazing brightly. She
poured some hot water into a basin.
"This is for the Professor," she said. "He must warm himself. He is
very cold, dear man! He is a very precious creature, and--"
I wished she would not talk of him like that. I felt a sense of
irritation. Then I looked at her and the irritation vanished.
"The boys are so hungry," I said.
"And so am I," she replied, with a laugh; "and your dear father is too.
My dear Dumps, he has a ravenous appetite. That is a great relief to
me. He hasn't the faintest idea how much he eats, but it's that that
keeps him going. He eats without knowing that he is eating. But he
mustn't go on doing that. I am certain he bolts his food, and that will
mean indigestion by-and-by. And indigestion breaks up life. You and I
have a great deal on our hands."
Then there was a dead pause.
"Dumps dear," she said, coming nearer.
In another minute perhaps she might have said something, and all that
followed need never have been written; just at that moment she laid her
hand on my shoulder, but before she could utter the words, whatever they
were, that were trembling on her lips, her eyes fell on the little
trunk--on the little leather trunk with my initials, R.G., on the lid.
She could not mistake it. She gave a start; into her comely cheeks
there flamed a vivid red. She bent down without a word and opened the
trunk. She looked at the contents, took up the card which I had laid on
the top and read it. Then she laid it back again very quietly, without
uttering a syllable, and closed the lid of the little trunk. Then she
turned to me.
"Shall we go down to supper?" she said. Her voice was quite cheerful.
But there was a wall of ice between us.