Chrissie, as I think you will remember, was not given to sleeping late.
Indeed, laziness of any kind was not a weak point of hers.
And on the morning after Aunt Margaret's arrival, she woke, as she had
gone to sleep determined to do, even earlier than usual. It was only
just beginning to be faintly light. She lay still for some little time,
for it was as yet too dark to see what o'clock it was, and if she had
struck a light it might have roused Leila--the last thing she wished to
do.
But before long, some slight sounds overhead gave notice that the two
servants, who, being young country-bred girls, had not yet lost their
good habit of early rising, were getting up. Then, even in that quiet
side-street, came sounds of the great world of London being awake
again--a church clock struck six, a milk cart or two rattled by, and
farther off in the distance was faintly heard the rumbling of heavier
carts and waggons.
"I suppose it's no good my getting up till the servants are down, and
till it's lighter," thought the little girl. "I'll try to keep still
till it strikes the half-hour, or at least till I can see the figures on
the bee-clock. But it's awfully tiresome. I _can't_ understand Lelly
liking to stay in bed."
And never did a half-hour pass more slowly for an impatient child than
did this one. Still, Chrissie kept to her resolution; she could be both
sensible and self-controlled when it suited her.
But by seven o'clock she was fully dressed, though there had been no
question of a bath, seeing that Harriet only brought the hot water at
half-past, and I _fear_ the amount of washing that she had stealthily
performed with cold water and a basin only, had better not be inquired
into. All the same, she felt decidedly proud of her good management
when she found herself quietly slipping downstairs, leaving Leila still
peacefully slumbering.
It was not a very cold morning and it had quite left off raining.
Still, it felt very chilly as she entered the drawing-room, where
Harriet had just opened the windows.
"Miss Chrissie!" she exclaimed with a start.
"Is there anything the matter?"
"Of course not. I've got up early to do the flowers. Mother said I
might. So go and fetch them at once, and bring the glasses to put them
in, and a big can of water."
Harriet hesitated.
"Couldn't you wait, Miss, just till I've brushed and swept up and done
the fire? I've to get the room right quickly, you see, to be ready for
the old lady."
"`Wait'!" repeated Christabel, "of course I can't. And you're very
rude, Harriet, to speak of the `old lady' like that. Can't you say
`Miss Fortescue'?"
"I'm sure I beg pardon," Harriet replied, and feeling rather ashamed of
her unintended disrespect, she dared not object further, and hurried off
as Chrissie had ordered.
But with the young lady spreading out flowers and glasses and water-cans
all over the floor, it was clearly impossible to go on sweeping.
Furthermore, Chrissie made her shut the window, so all the poor girl
could attend to, and that not without difficulty, was the fireplace.
Little cared Chrissie. She went on sorting and selecting, cleverly
enough, it must be owned, and some of the glasses were looking pretty
and graceful, when a sound made her glance at the door. There stood
Jasper, Harriet by this time having fled in despair.
"What do you want?" said Chrissie sharply. She was already getting a
little tired of her task, for she had been at it for three-quarters of
an hour.
"Oh Chrissie, Lelly is _so_ cross," he said. "She heard me goin' down
and she called me. She's nearly dressed and she's comin' immediately.
And I'm afraid she's very vexed. And the room is in such a mess," and,
child though he was, he gazed round in consternation.
It was quite true--the mess was appalling. For it was not in Chrissie's
nature to do anything with method, and Leila's greater neatness would
have been a help in the morning's work. But even worse was to follow;
for almost before Chrissie had taken in what Jasper was saying, Leila,
for once, in her indignation, as hasty as her sister, dashed into the
room, upsetting as she did so, one of the big cans of water brought by
Harriet, and, sadder still, one of the already arranged vases, breaking
it into pieces--the water streaming out to mingle with the pool already
forming, the poor flowers pitched about in all directions.
Christabel flew at her, trying to push her out of the room.
"You horrid girl," she said, "you clumsy creature."
"It's you that's horrid," returned Leila. "Worse than horrid. How
could you be so mean and sneaky? Why didn't you wake me? Mother meant
us to do them together. It's all your fault. I shall tell Mother--it
isn't mine a bit. Let go of me," but Chrissie only pushed her the more
fiercely.
And this was the sight, these were the sounds, that met poor Mrs
Fortescue as, unheard by the furious children, she stood in the
doorway,--room in chaos, the pretty carpet, chosen newly on purpose to
brighten the look of things, soaking--dark with water--the bits of glass
and poor flowers all strewed about, and, worst of all, two little girls,
crimson with anger, struggling together and hurling out ugly words of
reproach and rage.
They started however--Chrissie releasing Leila, who stood silent and
motionless--when they heard their mother's voice.
"Aunt Margaret's first morning. And I trusted you both to help me," she
said, as she turned away.
She was so bitterly disappointed that I really think there were tears in
her eyes as she hurried down the passage in search of Harriet and cloths
to wipe up the pools and streams of water. But before she got to the
top of the staircase leading down to the basement, she almost ran across
a small figure, whose face was hardly to be seen amid the pile of things
he was carrying.
"I've been to get cloths and sponges to dry it all up, Mummy," he said
breathlessly, "and a pail to squeeze it into, and Harriet's comin'," and
sure enough the housemaid's head just then emerged at the top of the
kitchen staircase.
"Master Jasper, Master Jasper," she gasped, "you can't carry all that;"
and certainly he did look very comical, with his intensely grave face
peeping out above his load.
"My poor Brownie," said his mother, "_my_ good fairy--what would I do
without you?" and somehow she could not help a little laugh.
Jasper gazed at her in surprise, but then feeling that he was the master
of the situation, he hurried off again. "Come quick, Mumsey," he said,
"p'raps we can stop any more of the carpet getting wet, if we're quick,"
and, followed by Harriet, they hurried into the drawing-room.
Leila and Christabel, by this time sobered and ashamed, though feeling,
I fear, very far from friendly to each other, were on their knees in
different parts of the floor--Leila picking up the fragments of broken
glass; Chrissie rescuing the poor scattered flowers. Neither spoke, and
their mother said coldly--
"Go upstairs. You are only in the way here. Come down at once when you
hear the breakfast gong."