Small as the dining-room was in comparison with the spacious one "at
home," as, more than once, the children caught themselves saying, still,
they all settled round the table quite comfortably, and on the whole
they were a more cheerful party than might have been expected.
Chrissie, even, was graciously pleased to express her approval of the
hot buttered scones which their kind mother had specially ordered for
the occasion.
"They are quite as good as Mrs Williams's," she said when she had
eaten, I am afraid to say how many of them. "May we have them often,
Mummy? The new cook will have lots of time, as there'll never be
dinner-parties, or luncheon-parties, or--or anything like that, of
course," and she gave a deep sigh.
"The new cook, as you call her," said Mrs Fortescue, "is no other than
Mrs Williams' niece, Susan, who till now has been the kitchen-maid. So
it is not surprising that her scones are good. But as for having lots
of time, you must remember that, now we have only two servants, she will
have to do many things besides cooking. We mustn't expect scones except
as a treat."
"Oh, of course," murmured Chrissie, "we mustn't expect anything nice. I
see how it's going to be." But either she spoke too low for her words
to be heard, or her mother thought it wiser to take no notice of them,
and she went on talking about other things.
"Yes," she said, in reply to a question of little Jasper's, "there is a
tiny garden behind, as you see, and, besides the back-door, there is an
entrance to it out of Daddy's study, through a French window. I daresay
you will be able to grow some pretty hardy things in it."
Jasper's face flushed with pleasure.
"Oh, I do hope Aunt Margaret will remember to bring my new garden-tools
what are at Fareham," he exclaimed.
"I will ask her about them when I write to-morrow," said his mother.
"Daddy's study," repeated Leila, "then there is a third sitting-room. I
was just wondering what we'd do for a schoolroom."
"You will have to use this room a good deal," said Mrs Fortescue, "but
in warmer weather, when you don't need fires, you can prepare your
lessons in your own room upstairs, as you will see. Now, if we've all
finished, I am anxious to take you over the house, Roley has seen it
all," with a glance at him.
"Yes," Roland answered, "and I think it's quite wonderful what you've
made of it, Mums, really wonderful. The rooms couldn't be nicer."
And as the little girls followed their mother upstairs, in their heart
they could not but agree with him. A nice airy room, not large of
course, but as large as any in the house, had been furnished for them,
with their own little beds and toilet-table, and as many of their
favourite belongings as it was possible to find room for, including two
bookcases with glass doors, on the wall, and a small writing-table in
front of the fireplace.
"It's really very nice, Mumsey dear," said Leila, delighted at the sight
of her low straw chair in one corner; "I don't believe I'd ever be too
cold up here--not with a shawl on. It seems so nice and peaceful, if
only--" she stopped and hesitated and glanced at her sister.
"You'd better finish," said Chrissie sharply. "I know it's something
horrid about me."
"No, it isn't horrid," Leila replied. "It's only if you _could_ be
tidy."
"`Tidy,' indeed," repeated Chrissie scornfully.
"I'm quite as tidy as you, and tidier. Am I not, Nurse?" she went on,
turning to her.
Nurse, in spite of her extreme anxiety to make the best of things and to
keep all smooth, could scarcely help smiling.
"I'm afraid, my dear, that there isn't much to be said as to tidiness,"
she replied. "Perhaps it's been partly my fault, ma'am," she went on to
Mrs Fortescue, "I've not left off feeling as if the young ladies were
still the tiny little fairies I remember them when I first came. But
now they're so much bigger, and with things being so different, I'm sure
Miss Leila and Miss Chrissie will do their very best to help in every
way."
"She's not at all sure of anything of the kind," thought Christabel,
"and that's why she says she is. I wish people wouldn't be humbugs."
Poor Nurse herself certainly did her very best during the two or three
days she remained at Spenser Terrace. And there was, of course, still a
great deal to do. For, notwithstanding the careful choice of furniture
and such things for the little house, when the trunks and boxes came to
be unpacked, it was by no means easy to find room for all that had been
brought. But for Nurse, I much doubt if the children's possessions
would ever have been properly arranged! She managed to interest the
girls--Chrissie especially, who was naturally quick and active--in her
plans about cupboards and shelves and chests of drawers, and before she
left she glanced round with satisfaction at the result.
"If _only_ they will try now to be thoughtful and methodical," she said
to herself.
These first few days had passed not unpleasantly. With Nurse still
there, the great difference to themselves personally had not, of course,
been very much felt by the little girls, and there is always, I think,
to all children--and to many grown-up people too--a curious charm in
novelty. It was a nice change to breakfast downstairs with their father
and mother, to have tea also in the dining-room, and no lessons. Then,
fortunately, just then the weather was fine and bright and dry. They
went out with Mrs Fortescue or Nurse two or three times to explore
their new neighbourhood, and found it rather amusing. They even thought
it would be great fun to have expeditions in omnibuses, though at
present there was still too much to do indoors for anything of that
kind.
Mr Fortescue was pleased with them, and said so to their mother.
"I think we have worried ourselves unnecessarily about Leila and
Chrissie," he said, "they seem to be settling down all right."
"I hope so," she replied. "But of course the real test will come when
Nurse goes and Aunt Margaret comes. In some ways she _must_ be my first
thought, when we remember all she is doing to help us."
"But she is a miracle of unselfishness. I am only afraid of her
spoiling the children," he said.
"She is too wise to do so," said Mrs Fortescue. "I earnestly hope they
may learn to follow her example," but still she sighed, and Mr
Fortescue thought that anxiety and overwork were probably making her
rather downhearted, though he did not say so.
Nurse left on a Saturday, and Aunt Margaret was expected to arrive on
the Monday. I don't think this was a very good arrangement, and if I
had been consulted I should have said so. Sundays are, and should be,
rather different from other days, but to make them thus in a happy way
takes some method and planning, as the heads of all households, large
and small, know well. And in a family accustomed to twelve or fifteen
servants, suddenly obliged to manage with only two, of course the
difficulties were much increased.
"We must begin rightly at once, or we shall get into wrong ways,"
thought Mrs Fortescue. "The servants must both go to church; one in
the morning, and one in the evening, turn about. And we must have a
cold meal once a day. Let me see--if Harriet goes to-morrow morning, we
can have a hot luncheon and cold supper this first Sunday, and tea all
together in the afternoon," and she lay awake half the night thinking
about it, which was not very wise, I must allow, as it made her sleep
later than usual the next morning.
But she dressed quickly, and on her way downstairs to breakfast, glanced
in at the little girls' room, expecting to find them ready.
Alas! What was the spectacle that met her view?
Leila in bed reading--a candle still alight on the little table by her
side, though the room was, of course, in full daylight. Christabel,
half dressed, standing in front of the looking-glass, tearing wildly at
her hair, and scolding furiously at her sister, who was calmly paying no
attention to her. And the room! Its state may be imagined when I say
that it looked as if every article of clothing the children possessed
had been dragged out of wardrobe and drawers and flung pell-mell on
beds, chairs, and floor. It was really difficult to believe that such
confusion was possible in the same room that Nurse had left in perfect
order the very afternoon before.
Mrs Fortescue's heart sank. For a moment or two she stood there
speechless--unobserved by Leila, absorbed in her book, or by Chrissie,
in the noise and excitement of her temper. And when at last their
mother spoke, it was only by raising her voice that she gained their
attention.
"Leila," she said, and her tone was more severe than either of the girls
had ever before heard it, "Leila, get up _at once_. I am completely
ashamed of you;" and Leila started up. She attempted no excuse.
"Christabel," Mrs Fortescue went on, "be silent."
"I can't be, I won't be," stormed Chrissie. "It is all Leila's fault.
I got up very soon after that stupid Harriet brought the hot water, and
she said she'd come back to help me to tie my hair, and I would have
been ready, but Leila wouldn't get up, and at last I threw a pillow at
her, and it overturned the chair with her clothes on, and then she said
I'd got out her Sunday frock instead of mine, and I hadn't, and then she
went on so, that I _did_ get out hers and threw it on the floor, and her
jacket and hat too, just to show her, and--"
"Christabel be _silent_," repeated her mother, and this time the child,
though with flaming cheeks and really shaking with anger, did obey her.
"And this," said Mrs Fortescue, "this is the first Sunday in our new
little home; the first day you have really had an opportunity of--I
won't even say helping me--but of showing yourselves sensible and
trustworthy. It might and should have been a peaceful and happy
morning. Stand still, Christabel," as the little girl was flouncing
about, "stand still while I tie your hair. It is very good-natured of
Harriet to offer to do it, but you and Leila are perfectly able to help
each other."
"She's not good-natural," muttered Christabel: "when I told her to come
back in ten minutes, she said she couldn't. She's very impertinent."
"Be silent," was her mother's only reply. Then, turning to Leila, she
went on, "Give me that book," and Leila did so. Mrs Fortescue glanced
at it. It was one of Mrs Ewing's. "I cannot let you have it again
to-day," she said, "nor to-morrow, unless you are dressed and downstairs
by half-past eight, and _properly_ dressed, remember," and so saying she
left the room, and with a very heavy heart slowly made her way
downstairs.
It was a dull, grey day, not yet raining, but with small promise of
lightening or brightening, and Mrs Fortescue, accustomed to a
well-warmed and luxurious house, felt it very chilly. And when she
opened the little dining-room door, she felt even chillier, and no
wonder, for the window was pushed up as far as it would go, evidently to
get rid of smoke, some remains of which was still hanging about. There
was only one person in the room, and that person not only a very small
one, but so crouched down in a little bundle on the hearth-rug, that for
a moment or so Mrs Fortescue really did not see him. Then the bundle
stirred, and a small face, rather red and with smutty marks on its
cheeks, looked up.
"Jasper," his mother exclaimed, "what _are_ you doing? Not playing with
the fire, surely!" in anxiety, for indeed if _Jasper_ were going to turn
mischievous or disobedient, where would she be?
"Playin', Mummy," he repeated, with a touch of very excusable
indignation, "in course not. It wouldn't flame up nicely, and I've been
down a long time. Roley buttoned my waistcoat before he got up, but
he's just comin'. So Susan gave me the bellowses," and he held them up
in triumph, "and it's burnin' beautifly now," and so it was. "I think
we might shut the window," he added, with a glance of consideration.
"My darling," said his mother, "I hope you haven't caught cold," and
having closed the window, she turned to this brownie in a sailor suit
with some anxiety.
"Oh no, I'm quite hot," he replied. "Shall I take the bellowses back to
Susan?" he went on. "Daddy wouldn't like to see them here, and you
don't mind us goin' to the kitchen if it's a real message, now we
mustn't ring the bells often, do you, Mumsey?"
"No, my boy, take the bellows back by all means," said his mother, and
on he went, murmuring us he did so, "Susan _will_ think I'm handy and
clever."
The funny little scene had cheered Mrs Fortescue again, and she was
looking quite calm and happy when Roland and his father made their
appearance.
"Breakfast is all ready. The things have just come in--everything is
nice and hot," she said brightly.
"That's all right," Mr Fortescue replied. "I'm quite hungry. Change
of air--eh?" but he smiled as he said it. Then with a glance round the
table--"Where are the others?" he went on, "Leila and Chris--There is a
gong, isn't there?"
"Yes, I brought the small one, but I haven't taught Harriet to strike it
yet. Perhaps they--"
But almost before she had got as far as this in her sentence Jasper was
at the door.
"I'll run up and tell them. I won't be a minute," he said. Nor was he.
He was down again almost at once, but Mrs Fortescue's quick eyes saw
that his small face looked troubled. And several minutes passed before
the door opened to admit first Christabel, and a moment or two later,
Leila.
"Hurry up, young ladies," said their father. "Why, Mummy has been down
for ever so long, and the rest of us not far behind. I'm afraid you
overslept yourselves."
"_I_ didn't," said Chrissie; "you'd better ask Leila, Daddy, why we're
late."
Her father, who had spoken quite cheerfully, glanced at her, for
something in her tone struck him as slightly sullen. And the expression
of her face did not reassure him. Still he spoke kindly and brightly.
"Well, here you are, better late than never," he went on. "Will you
have bacon and eggs--or bacon alone--or egg alone, Leila?" but before
she replied he caught sight of her strange appearance. "What's the
matter with you, child?" he exclaimed. "Have you forgotten to do your
hair?" and certainly there was every reason for the inquiry, for Leila's
dark locks were in an extraordinary state of confusion. She had
evidently tried to tie them up herself, and had only succeeded in
perching a very dilapidated bow of ribbon in a wild way over one ear,
where it was dangling about as if on the point of falling. And her face
hardly looked as if she had washed it at all.
She grew scarlet when she felt all eyes upon her.
"I can't tie up my hair myself," she said. "I have brushed it and
combed it, and it would have been all right if Chrissie had helped me a
little, instead of standing mocking at me and throwing all my things
about and--" here her voice broke, she was evidently on the point of
bursting into tears.
"Christabel, will you have bacon and eggs?" asked her father.
"Yes, please, Daddy," she replied calmly, though she darted a look at
Leila that was not good to see.
"And you, Leila?" he continued, turning again to the older girl.
"Nothing, thank you," she murmured. "I'll have some bread and butter."
"As you please," Mr Fortescue said. Then he helped Chrissie, and when
her plate was before her, he looked at both children.
"This is our first Sunday morning in the new little home which your
mother and I are doing our best to make a happy one for you. If you
choose, wilfully and foolishly, to quarrel, do so. I shall not pity
either of you. But one thing I will not allow, and that is, that your
tempers are to upset the comfort of the rest of the family. So I give
you fair warning. You must behave properly when you are at table with
us."
Neither answered. Christabel went on eating, though with a slightly
contemptuous expression which her father and mother thought it wiser to
pretend not to see. Leila choked down her tears and munched away at
what would have been dry bread, had not Jasper quietly put a pat of
butter on her plate.
And Roland and his father began talking about the weather, the fors and
againsts of frost setting in and the chances of skating, as if no such
silly, disagreeable little girls as Leila and Christabel were in
existence. And Mrs Fortescue made little jokes with Jasper, and poured
out second cups of coffee in a most matter-of-fact way. For once, I
think, both the foolish, ungrateful children began to feel themselves
rather small, and the rest of the day passed fairly well, though, but
for their mother's hurrying through with her own dressing, so as to be
able to superintend theirs, I much doubt if either Leila or Christabel
would have been ready for church, or fit to be seen when their father
called them.
Mrs Fortescue did not speak till she was leaving their room, then she
said quietly--
"Leila and Chrissie, I have helped you to dress this morning because I
could not bear to have another scene, especially as it is Sunday. But
from now, I warn you, I cannot and will not do for you what you are
perfectly able to do for yourselves. When you _do_ need help, you shall
have it, and I can make allowance for things being difficult for you
just now, but I will not help you to make them more difficult for
yourselves. When you come in from church, you must put away your
out-of-doors things and make the room perfectly neat," and so saying,
she left them, without giving them time to reply.
"I hope you're pleased," said Christabel to her sister, as soon as the
door had closed. "You _know_ it all began with your refusing to get
up."
Leila did not answer. She was naturally more timid and less
high-spirited than Christabel, but in some ways more difficult to
manage, owing to her indolence and dreaminess.
"Oh, well," continued Chrissie, "if you like to be sulky I'm sure I
don't mind. Any way, it is a satisfaction to learn that you won't have
any story-book all to-day."
Her tone was most provoking; Leila would have liked to turn upon her,
but she was afraid of beginning to cry, so with some difficulty she
remained silent till Chrissie had flung out of the room.
"I wish they would let me go to school," she said to herself when she
was alone. "I don't mind lessons, I only want to be left in peace. I'm
sure they might find some cheap school, and when I'm old enough I'd ask
to be kept on as a governess. I will ask Mummy about it. If Roland's
the eldest boy, I'm the eldest girl, and if they pay hundreds of pounds
for him to go to Winton, they might pay _something_ for me."
The idea seized her fancy. There was a touch of "romance" about it.
She pictured herself working hard at school, becoming a teacher herself
at an extraordinarily early age, earning enough to be no longer a burden
on her unnatural family, whom she would only visit at rare intervals and
for a very short time.
"Perhaps they would begin to wish they had treated me differently," she
thought. "Perhaps even Chrissie would find out that everything wrong
was not _my_ fault--yes, when it was too late," and with her usual habit
of fanciful dreaming, she occupied her thoughts almost the whole of
church-time, I fear, by picturing herself as the heroine of this
touching and romantic story. And poor Mrs Fortescue, catching sight of
her little daughter's charming face, her dark eyes gleaming with
interest, said to herself that Leila was really very open to good
impressions. "I am sure she is making all sorts of excellent
resolutions. Poor dear, I must not be hard upon her, nor upon Chrissie
either," though Christabel's face still looked resentful and obstinate.