MISS BIRD HEARS ALL ABOUT IT
The twins were meeting a train, but the train was late. They walked up
and down the platform, by the side of which the station-master's arabis
and aubrietia, primroses and daffodils, were making a fine show. It
was the Thursday before Easter, which Miss Bird was coming to spend at
Kencote, Miss Phipp having already departed for a week in lovely
Lucerne; and the twins, out of the innumerable trains they had met, had
never met one with greater pleasure. They had spent an arduous term
with Miss Phipp, with whom they had established relations amicable on
the whole, but not marked by the affection they had felt for Miss Bird;
and although they had rather liked working hard, they had had enough of
it for the present, and enough of Miss Phipp.
"I wish the train would hurry up. I do want to see the sweet old
lamb," said Joan. "Let's ask Mr. Belper when it's coming."
The station-master, jovially respectful, told them that she was
signalled, and they wouldn't have long to wait.
"But I think you ought to see that your trains are up to time," said
Nancy. "Didn't you learn at school that punctuality was a virtue?"
"Ah! I see you want to have one of your jokes with me, miss," said the
station-master. "I don't know what it's about, but, bless you, have
your laugh. I like to see young ladies enjoying themselves."
"Thank you very much," said Joan. "But there's nothing to laugh at in
a train being _always_ unpunctual. We want very much to see Miss Bird,
who is coming, and you keep her on the line somewhere between here and
Ganton. You ought to turn over a new leaf, and see that people don't
get disappointed like that."
"Well, it isn't my fault, miss, and here she comes," said Mr. Belper,
snatching up a metal instrument in shape something between a sceptre
and a door-scraper and hurrying up the platform, as the engine fussed
up the last incline and snorted itself to rest.
Miss Bird--diminutive, excited, voluble--cast herself out of her
carriage and into the arms of the twins, who gave vent to their
affection in a series of embraces that left her breathless and
crumpled, but blissfully happy. "That will do Joan 'n' Nancy for the
present," she said. "Let me get my things out and then we can have a
nice long talk. Oh dear to find myself at Kencote again it is almost
too good to be true the umbrella on the rack porter and the hat-box my
precious pets how you have grown a brown box with 'E.B.' in the van and
that is all. How do you do Mr. Belper you see I have come back again
once more like a bad penny as they say and how is Mrs. Clinton darlings
and your father and all I have _such_ a lot to hear that I'm sure we
shall never leave off talking until I go away again."
"Precious lamb!" said Joan tenderly. "_You_ won't leave off talking,
and I could listen to you for ever, like the brook. You're such a
relief after Pipp."
"We didn't know when we were well off," said Nancy. "We often lie
awake at night and cry for you."
They were now walking towards the booking-office. "But surely Miss
Phipp isn't _cruel_ to you my pets Mrs. Clinton would never allow that
oh my ticket Mr. Belper now I _know_ I put it somewhere here it is in
my bag and I give up this half and retain the other, good-afternoon ah
to see these nice horses again it is like coming home indeed I have not
ridden in a private carriage since I left Kencote. _Good_-afternoon
William I see you are still here and promoted to the box one more of
the old faces."
Thus expressing her pleasure, Miss Bird got into the carriage and the
twins after her, and they drove off.
"Well my pets," she began, "let me take a good look at you many's the
time I've longed to set eyes on you, and you have not altered at all
just a _trifle_ pale I do hope that you have not been working _too_
hard."
Joan and Nancy exchanged glances, and then heaved a simultaneous sigh.
They acted habitually so much in accord that the acceptance of an idea
striking them simultaneously could be indicated by a look. "You were
often unkind to us, Starling darling," said Joan plaintively, "although
we've quite forgiven you for it; but in your most headstrong moments
you were never actually cruel."
"Don't cry, Joan," said Nancy. "We have nearly three weeks' holiday,
and with Starling here we shall be able to forget everything, and be as
happy as possible."
Miss Bird's face showed perplexed horror. "But surely it isn't
possible----" she began.
Nancy interrupted her. "I don't mind so much for myself, because I'm
not so tender-hearted as Joan and don't feel things so much, and--oh,
Starling darling, please don't press that arm."
She winced realistically, and Joan took her up immediately.
"Nancy, I wonder if there's time to get long sleeves put into our
frocks for to-night. Mother will ask what the marks are, and we
_can't_ tell her a lie, and if we tell her the truth---- Oh, Starling
darling, _don't_ go away from us again. We can't _bear_ it any more;"
and she wept audibly on Miss Bird's inadequate shoulder.
Miss Bird was too overcome for the moment to give words to her horror,
but she put her arm round Joan, who winced in her turn, and said, "Not
that shoulder," through her convulsive sobs.
"Don't be silly, Joan," said Nancy firmly. "William will wonder what
is the matter, and you know what you will get if you let it out.
Starling darling, you _won't_ say anything to anybody, will you? It
will be much worse for us if you do, and after all when a bruise gets
blue and green it doesn't hurt so very much."
"Do you mean to say that she _beats_ you?" exclaimed Miss Bird, her
eyebrows almost up to her hat-brim. "Then I shall go _at once_ to Mrs.
Clinton the _moment_ I get into the house and tell her that----"
Joan threw her arms round her neck and laughed. "Angel lamb!" she
said, "it's too bad to tease her. She's just as green and sweet as
ever."
"Oh, why do you spoil everything?" exclaimed Nancy. Then she too
relented and added her embraces to Joan's. "Oh, you're too priceless,"
she said. "Are you really glad to see us again?"
"Well I suppose I must not be angry and I know your naughty ways too
well," said Miss Bird, "but you gave me quite a _turn_ and I suppose
really Miss Phipp is all she should be and you love her very much as
you ought to do and it is only natural that those who are near should
take the place of those who are far."
"I believe she's really disappointed that Pipp doesn't beat us black
and blue," said Joan. "But she'll never take _your_ place, Starling,
my own. You're the one and only. I suppose you know we're aunts
again. Walter and Muriel have got a boy."
"A boy!" exclaimed Miss Bird, enraptured. "Now that _is_ good news and
how _delighted_ your father will be the pet how I should like to see
him."
"Starling _darling_," expostulated Nancy. "You _will_ see him
directly, but father won't like your calling him a pet."
Miss Bird blushed. "You know very well I should say no such thing,
Nancy," she said; "it was the baby I meant if you repeat that untruth
in the house I shall go _straight_ back where I came from."
The twins laughed. "Isn't she pathetic and cherubic?" said Joan.
"_We_ haven't seen him yet, though we're going to to-morrow. He was
only born yesterday. We'll take you over."
"Isn't everybody very pleased?" asked Miss Bird, meaning by "everybody"
the Squire, but not liking to mention his name again.
"_We_ are," replied Joan, "and so is mother. Father isn't quite
certain about it, although he is glad that he was born at
Mountfield--at the Lodge, you know--instead of at Melbury Park. Unless
Dick or Humphrey have sons he'll succeed to the property, you see, and
it is very important that he should be touched by nothing common or
unclean. We've got such a lot to tell you--all about the weddings and
the rows. Everything is made up now, but we had the very deuce of a
time since you left."
"Now, Joan," said Miss Bird sharply, "if you talk like that I shall be
sorry I came and I am sure Miss Phipp would be very angry you must act
while she is away as if she were _present_, here we are and I declare
there is dear Mrs. Clinton at the door how pleased I am to see her once
more oh it is almost too much." And she began waving her hand and
bobbing up and down and saying, "Oh how do you do how do you do," until
the carriage drew up under the porch, when she hopped out of it and
received a greeting from Mrs. Clinton which put the seal on her
happiness.
The Squire came out of his room as they were going into the
morning-room. "Why, Miss Bird!" he exclaimed heartily, "here's a sight
for sore eyes! How de do, Miss Bird, how de do! 'Pon my word, it
looks so natural to see you here that I wonder we ever allowed you to
go. We've got a very learned lady in your place, and a dangerously
attractive one, by George--ha, ha!--but we don't forget you, Miss Bird,
and we often wish you were back again."
Now could anything have been handsomer than this! as Miss Bird asked of
her sister when she went back home again. From such a man too! who had
so many important things and people to think of.
"I'm sure Mr. Clinton all your kindness I never shall forget and never
_can_ forget," she began; but Joan and Nancy stopped her by pushing her
into a chair, and the Squire laughed and said, "They don't play tricks
like that with Miss Phipp, the young monkeys! How do you think they're
looking, Miss Bird? Pretty good specimens for Kencote air, eh? Well,
I suppose you've heard all our news--Dick married, and Humphrey going
to be. You've never seen Mrs. Dick, I think; she was after your time."
"No but she wrote me the kindest possible letter Mr. Clinton when I
sent a small gift to Dick and there was really no necessity for
_anybody_ to write but Dick wrote at once and _she_ wrote too and said
she should hope to see me soon which touched me very deeply and made me
feel that I _knew_ her though I had never seen her."
"Ah, yes," said the Squire complacently; "she thinks of everybody and
identifies herself with all Dick's interests, and you're not the
_least_ of them, Miss Bird. You'll see her to-night, for they're
dining here, and if you don't take to her out of hand, Miss Bird, I
shall be very much surprised. We're all in love with her here--eh,
children?"
"Rather!" said the twins in one breath; and Mrs. Clinton said, "They
are at the dower-house for a week or two. Dick is looking after some
other properties, but he has arranged it so that it does not take up
all his time. They live chiefly in Yorkshire, but they will be able to
live at the dower-house for a week or two every now and then, and by
and by we hope that they will be able to live there altogether."
"And where is Humphrey going to live?" enquired Miss Bird, who had
gathered certain facts from her correspondence with the twins, and had
no wish to be indiscreet, but did wish to know.
"Oh, he'll settle down in London," said the Squire. "It will suit him
and Lady Susan better; and he's getting on well with his work and has
to be near it," and Miss Bird was too discreet to indicate that she had
heard that he had been going to give up his work.
"We hope that they will come here often," said Mrs. Clinton. "The idea
was that they should go to the dower-house when Dick and Virginia
didn't want it, but there is plenty of room here, as you know, and they
chose not to have the responsibility of another house."
Miss Bird was well posted in the general hang of family affairs when
she presently went upstairs with the twins, but it remained for them to
enlighten her on the events that had led up to the existing state of
things.
They took her to her old room, which had been in the occupancy of Miss
Phipp. "We told mother we were sure you would like to sleep here,"
said Joan, "and we've cleared all her things out, and made it just like
it used to be for you."
"Darlings!" said Miss Bird. "It will be like old times and I shall
scarcely be able to sleep for happiness oh, look at the daffodils under
the trees."
"We didn't think you'd want to be bothered up with her books," said
Nancy, "so we've put the ones you like instead. _The Pilgrim's
Progress_ and Longfellow and _The Wide, Wide World_. You'll be able to
cry over that to-morrow before you get up."
Miss Bird was nearly overcome again by these thoughtful preparations
for her happiness. "Now I'll just take off my things pets and then
we'll have a cosey time in the schoolroom I'm so looking forward to
seeing it again you go and take off your things too and I'll come in a
minute."
"If you would like to look through her photographs," said Nancy, as
they were leaving the room, "they're all in this drawer; but they're
not very interesting. Hullo, here's Hannah--always on the spot when
she isn't wanted, and never there when she is."
"Indeed, Miss Nancy," said Hannah, "and I suppose I may come and see
Miss Bird without stepping out of my place, which unwilling I should be
to do, and Miss Bird always treating me as a perfect lady, and very
pleased all are to see her back again, high and low."
"You treat her as a perfect lady, Starling darling, for a minute while
we go and take our things off," said Nancy, "and try and persuade her
to do her work better, or she'll have to go."
Hannah was left indignantly spluttering something about working her
fingers to the bone and getting small thanks for it, while Miss Bird
soothed her ruffled spirits, and told her that if she didn't know how
to put up with her young ladies' nonsense by this time she wasn't as
sensible as she had thought, but she was delighted to see her again,
and was sure that she was doing her duty as she always had done it.
A little later she was sitting between the twins on the schoolroom
sofa, having duly expressed her rapture at finding herself once more in
that dear old room.
"Now we'll tell you all about everything," began Joan. "You heard
father say how much he liked Virginia, didn't you?"
"Yes," said Miss Bird, "and Mrs. Clinton too and very pleasant it is
when some one comes into a family to be welcomed so _lovingly_ and I
hope you and Nancy are equally fond of her Joan for I am sure she
deserves it so kind and considerate as she has shown herself."
"We adore her," said Nancy. "It is very easy for people to make us
like them if they take a little trouble. We are very simple-minded."
"It's a question of chocolates judiciously administered," said Joan.
"But we could do without them from her, because we like her immensely.
Well, you'd hardly believe, from the way father talked, that he
threatened to cut Dick off with a shilling if he married her, could
you?"
"Now Joan I don't want to listen to any nonsense," said Miss Bird.
"You have taken me in _once_ this evening and let that be enough."
"But, Starling darling, it's _true_. It wasn't till she saved his life
out hunting that he would put up with her at all. Of course, now he
thinks he always liked her, but that's what he is."
"I don't wish to hear any more of that tell me about the wedding," said
Miss Bird.
"Well, if you won't believe it, you won't," said Nancy. "And it
doesn't much matter now, because it is all over, and we are a united
family once more; but you have no idea of the trouble Joan and I had
with them all. Except mother, we were the only ones who kept our
heads."
"At one time"--Joan took up the tale--"Humphrey was going to be put in
to lord it over us, and sweet Sue Clinton; but directly Dick turned up
and took father in hand we didn't hear any more about that, and they
are going to have a scrumptious flat in town, and we are going up, one
at a time, to stay with them, because they only have one spare room."
"Sue isn't bad," said Nancy. "We didn't care for her at first, but
she's got a horrible old painted dragon of a mother, and when she's
away from her she's quite decent, and I dare say we shall be able to
make something of her."
"Now I don't want to hear any more gossip about people Joan 'n' Nancy,"
said Miss Bird, "tell me about Dick's wedding."
"Ivory satin," said Joan, "with sable hats and stoles and muffs, which
Dick gave us, and shower bouquets of violets. We were the admired of
all beholders."
"Toby Dexter acted as sort of best man to Virginia," said Nancy.
"She's up in Yorkshire now, keeping the house warm for them."
The twins gave the rest of their news in alternate sentences.
"Cousin Humphrey gave Virginia away. He was very sweet, and made a lot
of jokes afterwards."
"It was a very quiet wedding--at Blaythorn. Uncle Tom married them,
and made several mistakes in the service. I suppose he was overcome.
Humphrey was Dick's best man. They hadn't been very good friends at
one time, but they had made it up, and now they like each other very
much."
"We only had relations staying here for the wedding, except Mr. Spence,
Dick's friend, whose property he is looking after. He was such fun.
We simply loved him. He used to roar at all our jokes, especially at
Nancy's rhapsodies, and we egged him on to make love to Miss Phipp."
"She was immensely flattered. She said he was a true gentleman, and
when we told him we thought he'd have had a fit."
"He didn't really make love to her. He was too kind. He used to pay
her a lot of attention, and asked her to teach him to spell."
"He wrote us a letter when he'd gone back and spelt appearance with one
'p.'"
"And other mistakes too. But we did adore him."
"Old Mr. Marsh was at the wedding. We _think_ he proposed to Toby
Dexter afterwards, but she would never tell us. He drank too much
champagne."
"Now Nancy you are not to say things like that," said Miss Bird, quite
in her old authoritative manner.
Nancy embraced her warmly. "You're too sweet for words," she said.
"Uncle Herbert and Aunt Emmeline and Angela came. Angela is going to
be married in June at Holy Trinity, Sloane Street, and we're to be
bridesmaids; and to sweet Sue Clinton, too, at St. George's, Hanover
Square. Our portraits will be in the papers, and we'll send you
copies. We shall be much admired."
"Uncle Herbert was very angelic. He talked about Ibsen to Miss Phipp,
and when she found out that he had been a Liberal member of Parliament
she almost wept for joy. We didn't know she was a Radical before, but
if Uncle Herbert was one, they can't be as bad as father makes out."
"She's a suffragette too, but she has never been able to answer
father's question, 'Who would cook the dinner on polling-day?'"
"Well, she's answered it, but father won't listen to her."
"Aunt Laura is ill. We'll take you to see her to-morrow. She made us
promise to."
"Oh dear Miss Clinton," broke in Miss Bird, "I do hope it is nothing
serious."
"She's very old. She can't live much longer, I'm afraid. She
remembers the Battle of Trafalgar, or the Crimean War--I forget which."
They talked for some time longer, and when Miss Bird went to her room
to dress for dinner it was with a heart full of thankfulness to find
herself still so much beloved, and with a lively curiosity as to what
Virginia would be like when she should presently meet her.
She and the twins were together in the morning-room when Dick and
Virginia arrived. While the twins were throwing themselves upon
Virginia, Dick came forward grinning and gave her a resounding kiss on
either cheek. "There, old lady," he said. "That's what you deserve
and what you'll get from me now I'm married. Virginia, come and do
likewise."
Miss Bird, once more, was overcome almost to the point of tears. "I'm
sure this is a very happy day for me," she twittered, but could get no
further.
"They're all happy days for all of us," said Virginia, who looked
radiant, and not much older than her young sisters-in-law. "The twins
are to bring you down to see me early to-morrow morning, when Dick is
out. I want to hear all about him when he was a little boy, and I'm
sure a very naughty one."
"Oh indeed," said Miss Bird; "he was high-spirited but as for
naughtiness what I call real naughtiness no child could have been freer
from it."
"If you think you're going to get anything against me out of Miss Bird,
you may save yourself the trouble and enquire elsewhere," said Dick.
"She thinks there was never such a family as the Clintons, don't you,
Starling?"
"I think they're rather nice too," said Virginia, with her hands on the
shoulders of Joan and Nancy and her eyes on Dick.
The Squire coming in at this moment with Mrs. Clinton greeted Virginia
as if she were his daughter, and it being on the stroke of eight
immediately led her in to dinner. He was in the best of spirits, and
talked and laughed, during the whole of the meal, in his old, rather
boisterous fashion. Gone were the moody silences and the frowning
perplexity of a few months back. He had not, apparently, a care in the
world, and, with his healthy, rubicund visage, and active, though
massive form, looked as if he were prepared to enjoy the good things
with which his life was filled for a further indefinite number of years.
There was only one little shadow of a cloud. As he got into bed that
night, he said, "I'm very glad you asked old Miss Bird here, Nina.
She's a faithful old soul, and it does me good to see her about the
place. She seems to belong to it, and it brings us back to where we
were before all this infernal worry came to us."
"We are better off than we were then," said Mrs. Clinton, "for you were
worrying about Dick getting married, and now his marriage has come
about and you need worry over it no longer."
"Ah, yes," said the Squire. "I remember I did say something to you,
and to him too, just before he sprang it on us--what was in his mind.
If I had known Virginia then it would have saved us months of bother.
I've never quite forgiven Dick for not introducing me to her at first.
I should have given way at once, of course. However, we needn't think
about that now; but now this little chap of Walter's has come--I must
go over and have a look at him to-morrow--it does make me wish that we
were in the way of looking forward to a son of Dick's. I suppose,
Nina----"
"There is plenty of time to hope for that," said Mrs. Clinton.
"I suppose there is, and we mustn't be impatient. Still, I shan't be
quite easy in my mind about the succession until there are children at
the dower-house. However, the matter is in higher hands than ours, and
there's never failed an heir to Kencote yet. How long was Virginia
married before?"
"Seven years, I think," said Mrs. Clinton.
"Ah, well, if the worst comes to the worst, there's a boy Clinton
sleeping over at Mountfield now, and we must put up with our
disappointment. Good-night, Nina. God bless you!"