THE TREVOR FAMILY.

The family dinner was served at seven o'clock, and all the children,

down to Pam herself, appeared at table, for Dr Trevor liked to have his

family round him at the close of the day, and, thanks to his wife's good

management, the meal was always a bright and cheery occasion.

Mrs Trevor was a devoted mother to every one of her flock, but the

person in the house whom she mothered most of all was her hard-working

husband, whose life was so devoted to others that he had little time to

consider himself. From the children's earliest years they had been

taught that to "worry father" was one of the most serious offences which

they could commit.

"Father spends his life going about from one sickroom to another; all

day long he is meeting people who are ill, and anxious, in fear, and in

pain, and when he comes home he must have a cheery welcome. If you want

to grumble about anything, grumble to yourselves or to me; if you have

anything disagreeable to tell, let it wait until we are alone. Meal-

times with father must be devoted to pleasant subjects alone." Such

were Mrs Trevor's instructions, instilled into her children's minds

with such persistent firmness that they were never disobeyed, with the

result that the tired doctor came home with the happy certainty of

enjoying a cheery, harmonious hour, and the young people themselves

learnt a lesson in self-restraint which was of infinite value in after

life.

Betty might grumble and tirade outside the schoolroom door, but as she

approached the dining-room she mechanically smoothed her brow and

adopted a cheerful expression. To-night Dr Trevor was already seated

in his place at the end of the long table, for his wife took the head,

to save him the fatigue of carving for so large a party. He was a tall,

thin man, with a lined face lit by the keen, thoughtful eyes of the true

physician. He looked up as his eldest daughter entered the room, and

held out his hand to her in a mute caress. She bent to kiss his

forehead, and stood holding his hand to chat for a few minutes until the

other members of the family made their appearance. He noticed the

Puritan-like coiffure--there were few things that those shrewd eyes did

not notice--but made no comment thereon, for, as he frequently observed

to his wife when she confided to him her troubles over Betty's

eccentricities, boys and girls who are in the transition stage between

childhood and maturity are apt to become a trifle restless and

eccentric, and it was wisdom to be for the most part judiciously blind,

interfering only in cases of right and wrong. Let the little maid run

with a loose rein for a time. She would soon settle down, and be the

first to laugh at her own foibles.

Mrs Trevor took her place, looking round on her assembled children with

the pretty, half-appealing little smile which was her greatest charm.

She was slight and graceful, not stout and elderly, like other people's

mothers. In the morning light she often looked wan and tired, but in

the kindly lamplight she seemed more like Betty's sister than the mother

of a rapidly growing up family.

Miles sat at her right hand, a tall, somewhat heavy-looking youth, with

enormous hands and feet, a square, determined jaw, and deep-set brown

eyes. Even a casual glance at him was sufficient to show that he was

going to make a man of power and determination, but, like Betty, he was

passing through his awkward stage, and was often neither easy nor

agreeable to live with.

Jack was just a mischievous schoolboy, with protruding ears and

twinkling eyes. One can see a score like him any day, marching,

marching along the street with satchels of books; but his twin sister

had a more striking personality. Jill was a mystery to her relations

and friends. She had ordinary brown hair, and not too much of that,

light blue eyes with indifferent lashes, a nose a shade more impertinent

than Betty's own, a big mouth, and a powdering of freckles under her

eyes; yet with those very ordinary equipments she managed to rank as a

beauty among her schoolmates, and to attract more admiration than is

vouchsafed to many people whose features might have been turned out of a

classic mould. Betty used to ponder wistfully over the secret of Jill's

charm, and think it hard lines that it had not been given to herself,

who would have cared for it so much more. Jill didn't care a pin how

she looked. She wanted to "have fun," to invite Nora Bruce to tea as

often as possible, to buy a constant supply of a special sort of almond

toffee which was offered for sale at a shop which she passed on the way

to school, to be a first-form girl and have one of the new desks, and,

incidentally, to pass the Cambridge examination if it could be done

without too much "fag." She put on her clothes any way, did her hair in

the twinkling of an eye, and the effect was uniformly charming.

"If she's untidy, she's picturesque; if I'm untidy, I'm a fright. It's

mean!" soliloquised Betty discontentedly. Every day she lived she was

the more convinced that the world was topsy-turvy, and that she herself

was the only person who was competent to set it to rights.

Pam was just Pam; like herself, and no one else in the world. A dear

little, wide-eyed, pointed-chinned kitten, everybody's tease, and pet,

and conscience all in one, for those clear child eyes seemed to see

through all pretences, and what she thought she put into words without a

shadow of fear or hesitation.

It was a very plain, almost a frugal, repast, but the table looked

cheerful and pretty with the pink-shaded lamp in the centre, surrounded

by the four little bowls of flowers which it was one of Betty's duties

to keep fresh, and there was no lack of lively conversation.

Mrs Trevor had had a trying day, and several of her worries must of

necessity be discussed with her husband later on, but she would allow no

hint of them to escape until he had been fed and rested, and in the same

manner all the children searched their memories for the pleasantest

event which they had experienced to retail for his benefit.

"I was top to-day, father," Jack announced proudly; "answered every

single question in Latin, and read off my translation like a book. If I

liked to stew, I believe I could lick Johnston all the time. He was

pretty sick at having to go down; looked as glum as an old owl for the

rest of the morning."

"He takes his work more seriously than you do, my boy. You say you

could be top if you liked: I am glad to hear it; but why don't you like?

You can't surely prefer a lower place?"

"Oh, well, there's reason in all things!" returned Jack, with a

vagueness which his brothers and sisters had apparently little

difficulty in understanding, for they laughed, and sniggered meaningly

to each other.

"Such a waste of time, when there is football to be played!"

"A full back has to keep his energy for his work, and not fritter it

away over stupid books. That's about it, isn't it, Jack?" they teased,

while Dr Trevor said between a sigh and a smile--

"Ah, well, my boy, you are old enough to judge for yourself how your

time should be spent! If you win a scholarship, I'll manage to help you

through a 'Varsity course, but I can't afford to keep you there

unassisted. Remember it is your whole career which is at stake."

"All right, father, I _will_ work," said Jack easily.

He was an affectionate boy, who disliked disappointing his parents, but

unfortunately he disliked work even more. He was rather sorry now that

he had mentioned his easy victory over the redoubtable Johnston. The

pater would expect him to be top every day, whereas he had only just put

on a spurt to show what he could do if he chose. Suppose he did lose

the scholarship, it wouldn't be so bad after all, he could still play

footer on Saturday afternoons!

The doctor's glance had wandered, as if for consolation, to his elder

son--Miles the strenuous, the indefatigable, who had a passion for work

for work's sake. He was going through the practical stage of an

engineer's training, and left the house at six o'clock each morning, to

return in the afternoon clad in workman's clothes, incredibly greasy and

dirty. Betty suffered agonies in case "they"--that wonderful impersonal

"they" who overclouded her life--should think he was really and truly an

ordinary workman! On one occasion Miles had joined her on the doorstep

as she was returning from an afternoon walk, and she had distinctly seen

the curtains of the Pampered Pet's drawing-room move, as if someone were

peeping out from behind, when, as she confided to Jill later on, "her

cheeks turned k-r-rimson with mortification!"

"Well, Miles, my boy, did you take your little invention with you to-

day, and were you able to show it to the manager?"

"Yes, I took it all right."

"And what did he say?"

"He said it was all right."

"Does that mean that he acknowledged that it was an improvement on the

present method? Did he feel inclined to give it a trial?"

"Oh yes, it went all right. He said it would do."

"But that's capital! Capital! I congratulate you heartily! Didn't Mr

Davidson seem pleased that you should have hit on such a bright idea?"

"Oh, he said it was all right."

Miles made a determined attack on his plate, as if pleading to be left

alone to enjoy his dinner in peace. Since the days of his babyhood he

had shown a strong inventive genius, and now it was his delight to spend

his spare moments working in his little cupboard sanctum at home,

striving to improve on any bit of machinery which struck him as falling

short of perfection. It was a very simple thing which he had attempted,

but in machinery, as in many other things, trifles are all-important,

and it was a triumph indeed that a lad of nineteen should have hit on an

improvement which was considered worth a trial.

Dr Trevor and his wife exchanged smiles of happy satisfaction. They

yearned to ask a dozen more questions, but refrained out of sympathy

with that natural masculine reserve which they understood so well.

Betty, however, was less considerate.

"I do think you might tell us a little more about it, Miles!" she cried

resentfully. "You know we are all dying of curiosity. I can't think

why it is that boys can never give a decent account of anything that has

happened! Now, if it had been me, I should have begun at the very

beginning, from the moment I entered the works, and told you how I felt

as I went upstairs, and how I began to speak to the manager, and what he

said, and how he looked, and--"

"What colour of necktie he wore--"

Betty tossed her head in scornful contempt of the burst of laughter

evoked by Miles' words.

"And what he did with the screw, or whatever you call it, when you

showed it to him, and what the other men said, and-- Oh, dozens of

interesting things; but you can say nothing but `all right' to every

single question. It _is_ dull!"

"You must allow for diversities of talent, Betty," said Mrs Trevor,

laughing. "We do not all possess your powers of description. Miles is

very modest over his success, and I, like you, want to hear more

details. You must be sure to tell us how the trial works, Son; and if

your improvement is permanently adopted, I shall be proud!"

"Nothing to be proud of!" muttered Miles into his plate.

If there was one thing he loathed more than another, it was to be

praised and petted, and made the centre of attention. His roughened

fingers clenched themselves tightly round the knife and fork, and he cut

his beef into pieces with savage energy.

Why couldn't they leave a fellow alone? All this fuss about a bit of a

cog!

Betty divined his discomfiture, as she divined all that concerned her

beloved brother, but she had not the tact to come to the rescue, and it

was Jill who turned the conversation by a casual question which yet was

of interest to all the family.

"Father, is there a father at the big house at the corner? We can't

decide what's the matter with him. There must have been one, of course,

because of the Pet. Jack says he's dead, but she is not in mourning,

and the mother doesn't wear widow's things. I say he's gone a tour

round the world, and is buying presents at every port so as to pamper

her more than ever when he comes back."

Dr Trevor looked a trifle mystified, but he was accustomed to his

children's mental flights, and, after a moment's consideration, he

replied smilingly--

"If you mean Number 14, the tenant is a certain Major Alliot, who is at

present, I believe, with his regiment in India. I don't know anything

about his household, or the identity of the `Pet,' as you are pleased to

call her."

"I wish she'd fall downstairs, or have an accident of some sort

suddenly, so that they'd have to fly across for you in a hurry," sighed

Jill with frank brutality. "I wish all the people in that row would

have accidents, so that you could tell us all about them. We are dying

with curiosity!"

"Wouldn't influenza do as well? There is no need to be quite so brutal,

Jill," her father reminded her. "Besides, it is hardly my usual custom

to tell you `all about' my cases, is it? I should be very glad to find

new patients nearer here for my own sake; which reminds me, dear, that I

have to go a long drive after dinner, and shan't be home for the

evening, as I hoped. It is unfortunate having so many late nights this

week."

Mrs Trevor's brow shadowed for a moment, but she recovered herself, and

smiled bravely at her husband, while Betty cried emphatically--

"I shall never marry a doctor!"

"Lucky beggar! He's had an escape anyway!" growled Miles beneath his

breath, quite unable to resist paying Betty back for her attack on him a

few moments before, and Betty laughed as merrily as the rest at the joke

against herself.

"Well, I shall have an escape too! I don't like ill people or having

anything to do with them; it's not my vocation!" she announced

grandiloquently, and her face fell with dismay when her father said

cheerily--

"Oh, come, you don't do yourself justice, dear. I always find you a

very acceptable little nurse. Mrs Ewen was asking for you only to-day.

I should be glad if you would make a point of going to see her some

afternoon this week, and trying to amuse her for an hour or two. She

has had a very sharp attack, poor soul."

"Yes, father," assented Betty meekly, but mentally she ground her teeth.

Mrs Ewen was an old patient, a tiresome patient from Betty's point of

view, who never grew better, but was frequently worse, who spent all her

life in her bedroom and an upstairs sitting-room, her chief subject of

conversation being the misdemeanours of her hardly-worked nurses. She

had taken a fancy to the doctor's young daughter, and liked to be

visited by her as often as possible in convalescent periods; but Betty

did not return the liking.

"She doesn't understand girls," she grumbled to herself. "I don't

believe she ever was a girl herself. She must have been born about

forty, with spectacles and a cap. I can't think why she wants to see

me. I do nothing but say `Yes' and `No' while she abuses other people,

and yawn my head off in that stifling room. And I did so want to get on

with my blouse. Seems as if I could never do as I like, somehow!"

She sat looking such an image of meekness and resignation, with her

smoothly-braided locks and downcast lids, that her father's lips

twitched with amusement as he glanced at her, and quickly averted his

eyes. He knew just as well as she did how distasteful his request had

been, but he was none the less anxious to enforce it. Betty's horizon

was blocked with self at the present moment, and anything and everything

was of gain which forced her to think of something besides that all-

important personage Miss Elizabeth Trevor.

Betty Trevor · 第 9 / 63 题