"I sent a message by Jasper. I suppose he didn't give it properly."
"He gave it as properly as a message that was not a proper one could be
given," was the reply, and Miss Earle's voice was very cold.
"I _must_ keep up my authority, such as it is," she said to herself,
"but oh, what a pity it is to have so constantly to find fault, when I
love them and we might be so happy together."
It was a bad beginning for the morning's lessons, and as was to be
expected, things did not go smoothly. In their hearts both Leila and
Christabel were feeling rather ashamed of themselves, but outwardly this
only showed itself by increased sleepy inattention in the one, and a
kind of noisy defiance in the other. But Miss Earle knew children too
well to "pile on the agony," and said no more, hoping that the interest
they really felt in their work would gradually clear the atmosphere.
So she gave them some history notes to copy out correctly, while Jasper
went on with his reading.
He was not a very quick child, as I think I have said already, but it
was impossible to feel vexed with him, as he did his very best--getting
pink all over his fair little face when he came to some very difficult
word. Nor was it always easy to help laughing at his comical mistakes,
but a smile of amusement on his teacher's face never hurt his feelings.
It was different, however, when Chrissie burst into a roar at his
solemnly narrating that "the _gay-oler_ locked the door of the cell on
the prisoner."
"The _what_, my dear?" said Miss Earle.
Jasper's eyes were intently fixed on the word.
"Go-aler," he announced triumphantly.
Then came his sisters noisy laughter, and the child's eyes filled with
tears.
"Be silent, Chrissie," said Miss Earle sternly, and Chrissie's face just
then was not pleasant to see.
Nor did she recover her good temper till the French lesson came and her
translation was found to have only two faults, whereas Leila's rejoiced
in five!
On fine days the three children went for a walk with Miss Earle from
twelve to one--that, at least, was the rule. But how seldom was it
obeyed! At a quarter to twelve they were sent upstairs to get ready,
but in spite of Nurse's and Fanny's doing their best, it was rarely, if
ever, that Leila and Chrissie made their appearance again till ten or
twenty minutes past the proper time. And to-day was no exception.
Nurse brought them downstairs herself, almost in tears.
"Miss Earle," she began, "I don't know _what_ to do. Will you--can you
say anything to the young ladies? I did so want to tell their Mamma
that they had been good while she was away, and it's worse than ever.
Miss Leila's been reading all the time I was trying to dress her, and
Miss Chrissie pulled off her hat three times and stamped on it."
"She put it all on one side. I looked like Falstaff in it," said
Christabel coolly.
"Then why do you not put it on yourself?" said Miss Earle, as they went
out.
"Why should I, when they're there to dress us?" was the reply. Miss
Earle was silent. Chrissie repeated her question.
"I don't think there is any use in my answering you," she said at last.
"We look at these things in such a different way, according to different
ideas."
Chrissie grew more amiable at this. She liked to be spoken to as if she
were grown-up.
"You may as well explain," she said condescendingly. "Tell me how you
mean."
"I mean that if I were rich enough to have half-a-dozen maids to dress
me--or nurses to make a baby of me--I should be, and at your age should
_have_ been, ashamed to be as helpless as you and Leila are," said Miss
Earle.
Leila, who was listening, wriggled a little. Chrissie tossed her head.
"I'm not helpless. I can do anything I choose to do."
"Indeed," said their governess drily, "I should not have thought it."
"But why should we?" said Leila, "We don't need to."
"Why should you learn to be self-helpful and, to a certain extent,
independent?" replied Miss Earle. "I should say, for two reasons.
Because it would be good for your own characters, and also because
nobody can tell what they may not _have_ to do sooner or later, and
surely it is best to be a little prepared for the chances and changes of
life."
"I suppose you mean we might be sent to school some day," said Chrissie;
"but we shan't--that's certain."
"I meant nothing in particular. I was only answering your question.
But I must add something. If you do let yourselves be treated like
babies, at least you should be as nice as babies generally are--healthy
babies, I mean--to those who treat them kindly."
Both the girls grew red at this, and Miss Earle was glad to see it.
"I don't fink I was a very nice baby," said Jasper consideringly.
"Mumsey says I cried lots. That's why I must try to be good now."
"Poor Jasper!" said Miss Earle, "perhaps you were a very delicate baby."
"I fink p'raps I was," he said with satisfaction. "I can't remember
very well, but I don't fink I meaned to be naughty."
"You did roar," said Leila; "I can remember it; or rather squealed. You
weren't big enough to roar."
"Everybody's got to be naughty some time or other," remarked Chrissie
jauntily. "I know you think Lell and me horridly bad, Miss Earle, but
p'raps we'll turn out awfully good after all."
"I hope so," said their governess, smiling. Then she added rather
gravely, "I wish, dears, you could understand how much sorrow and regret
you would save yourselves in the future if you would really try to be
more thoughtful now," and for a few minutes both little girls seemed
impressed. Then, to change the subject, Christabel began again--
"Mummy's coming back on Monday, Miss Earle. Roland's had a letter, and
he thinks she's very worried."
"I am sorry to hear it," said Miss Earle. "Well, any way, let us try to
have a cheerful report waiting for her, as far as we are concerned."
And the rest of the walk passed in a most pleasant way.
But, alas! the children's dinner, which the two girls had with their
governess downstairs, was a cause of irritation, for, without being
"greedy," I am afraid I must allow that they were very "dainty," which
is almost as bad.
"I hate cutlets done like this," said Chrissie. "They're so dry. I
like them with that nice reddy sauce."
"Tomatoes," said Leila. "So do I. And I don't see why we should have
plain potatoes, instead of mashed or browned, just because Mummy's
away."
She pushed her plate from her.
"Leila," said Miss Earle sternly, "go on with your dinner," and as there
was nothing else to eat, and Leila was hungry, she had to do so.
Then came the next course.
"Apple pudding! I hate cooked apples!" exclaimed Christabel. "Is there
no cream, Lewis?"
No--there was no cream.
"What a hateful dinner," both children complained, and as they saw Miss
Earle about to speak, Chrissie interrupted her.
"I know what you're going to say--all that about poor children who have
nothing to eat, and that we should be thankful to have anything. But
I've heard it hundreds of times, and I don't see why we should have
nasty things, all the same. It doesn't make it any better for the poor
children."
"If your food were _not_ nice, perhaps I would agree with you, but as
things are, I cannot," said Miss Earle.
But eat her apple pudding Chrissie would not, and as she had really not
had enough dinner for a strong, healthy child as she was, her temper was
by no means at its best for afternoon lessons, and Miss Earle walked
home, feeling sadly discouraged.
"I must tell Mrs Fortescue that I'm making no way with them," she
thought. "Things have gone too far. I do not see how one is to get any
lasting impression on them. And yet, I am so sorry to disappoint their
mother! I wonder if she is really in trouble? What _would_ those
children do if actual misfortunes came over them?"
A sort of presentiment, caused greatly, no doubt, by her sincere
interest in her pupils, and anxiety about them, seemed to add to her
depression.
"I wish I had heard what Roland said," she thought. "He is a good sort
of boy. Perhaps he was only trying to make the girls more considerate
for their mother just now."