Kitabı oku: «Jasper», sayfa 4
“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.
Chapter Six
Dusters
Monday morning brought considerable improvement. That is to say, Leila, having no book to read, and in her secret heart still faithful to the character of innocent and unappreciated martyr which she had imagined for herself, got out of bed almost as soon as she was awakened, dressed herself in silent dignity, and even offered to help Christabel.
“No thank you,” Chrissie replied loftily, “I don’t want any one to do anything for me except tying my hair, and Harriet can do that much, I suppose.”
“Mother has told her to come for ten minutes, at eight,” Leila replied meekly, glancing at Chrissie, and at the little bee-clock on the mantelpiece, which told that eight o’clock was fast approaching; much nearer at hand, according to present appearances, than the completion of Chrissie’s toilet.
“And you think I won’t be ready,” replied Chrissie. “Well then, you’ll just see,” and she rushed at her clothes in a rapid but very helter-skelter fashion, stopping, however, with her skirt half over her head, to have another fling at Leila. “What’s the matter with you this morning?” she said. “Why do you say ‘mother,’” and she copied her sister’s subdued tone of voice in a very irritating way, “like that? What a prig you can be, Leila! For my part I’d rather you were as lazy as a dormouse, staying in bed all day if you like, than to be so affected and lackadaisical.”
No answer to this tirade was vouchsafed, and just then Harriet knocked at the door.
“All right,” called Chrissie, “I’m ready – readier than Miss Leila, Harriet, – she hasn’t fastened her belt yet, and nowadays it’s got to be first come, first served, so here’s my comb – hurry up.”
Harriet was young and countrified, and, to tell the truth, rather in awe of “the young ladies,” whom hitherto she had only heard of in her aunt’s letters as beings not far removed from little princesses. So she gave a half-nervous laugh, and set to work at Christabel’s thick curls, Leila – her belt fastened by this time – standing by with a solemn, resigned expression of face.
As a rule it was no easy task to “do” Miss Chrissie’s hair, the owner of it being given to amusing little excursions about the room during the process, dragging her unfortunate attendant after her, in spite of all remonstrances. But this morning, out of sheer contradiction I fear, she stood like a lamb, and as soon as the ribbons were tied, dashed off, shouting, “Who’s first – who’s first? Who’ll be first downstairs after all?”
“Chrissie, Chrissie,” Leila called out, and this time she really meant well, and had forgotten for the moment all about being an innocent martyr, “Chrissie, you haven’t said your prayers, and your – ”
But a whistle from the staircase – plainly heard, though it was not a very successful one, as Christabel had been true to her rule of not shutting the door – was the only reply, and Leila sighed.
“Miss Chrissie do be a high-spirited young lady,” quoth Harriet with a respectful little cough.
“What did you say?” asked Leila, as if awaking from a dream. “Oh yes – you wouldn’t think I was only a year and a half older than she is, would you?”
“No indeed, Miss,” was the reply in an awe-struck tone, and again Leila sighed and retreated to her self-chosen character of unappreciated heroine.
It was rather provoking, though entirely her own fault, that, in spite of her prompt getting up and irreproachable behaviour, she was not down early. For only when her little brother tapped at the door did she again glance at the clock, and started to see that it was already twenty-five minutes to nine.
“Lelly, Lelly, Mumsey’s sent me for you. We’re all down ’cept you.”
Leila opened the door.
“Oh dear, it’s too bad!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been ready ever so long. I got up ages before Chrissie.”
“Never mind, poor Lelly,” said Jasper consolingly. “You’se not really late. Nobody’s vexed wif you. And you do look so neat,” he went on admiringly, as hand-in-hand they hastened downstairs. “Chrissie seems all – all in a muddle,” he added anxiously. “I saw Daddy lookin’ at her rather funnily, though he didn’t say nothin’.”
“It’s her own fault. I shan’t be sorry for her if she gets scolded,” said Leila. “She only hurried down to be before me.”
And when she caught sight of her sister at table, she really felt surprised that her father’s annoyance had been only shown by “funny” looks. Christabel – except that, thanks to Harriet, her hair was fairly tidy – might have passed for a well-to-do scarecrow. Her collar was all on one side, her blouse buttoned crookedly, her face far from clean – her hands and nails – but perhaps it is better not to enter into particulars as to these! She seemed quite pleased with herself, however, and mixed in the conversation even more than was called for.
“It is going to be a very wet day, I fear. It is such a pity. I had so hoped it would be bright and clear,” said Mrs Fortescue.
“Why do you mind, Mumsey?” asked Christabel. “It’s hotter than if it had been yesterday and we’d had to paddle to church in the rain. I think it’s much the worst for us now when it’s wet – with nowhere proper to play in.”
“Your mother was not asking your opinion,” said Mr Fortescue drily, and Chrissie’s face darkened. She hated being “snubbed” more, I think, than anything else in the world, but no one took any notice of her annoyance, and her father went on speaking to her mother as if there had been no interruption.
“You must not think of coming to the station,” he said. “You would probably catch cold, for – ” and for once, poor man, he sighed a little, “you would come in an omnibus, I am sure, and on a day like this you might have to wait some time to get a seat. Much better stay quietly at home, and have everything ready and comfortable for her when she arrives.” He hesitated a little. He was on the point of adding a word or two, almost of appeal, to the two girls, but Christabel’s cross expression and Leila’s air of dreamy self absorption were not encouraging.
“Very well, then,” Mrs Fortescue replied, though with evident regret. “Perhaps you are wiser about it. Then we may expect you about – when – four o’clock?”
“Yes, or a little later,” was the reply, as Mr Fortescue rose to go, Roland having already hurried off.
“And mayn’t I help you, Mumsey?” whispered Jasper, edging up to his mother. “If only there was some flowers in the garden to put in her room!”
“Perhaps she will bring – ” Mrs Fortescue was beginning, when Chrissie interrupted.
“What are you talking about, Japs?” she said pertly. “Flowers – in the middle of winter, even if there was a garden, which there isn’t. What does he want them for, Mums?”
Her mother looked at her in silence for a moment. She had stood up and was holding Jasper’s hand tightly in her own, almost as if the touch of it strengthened and cheered her. Then she said quietly —
“You cannot have forgotten surely, or if you have you should not have done so, that Aunt Margaret is expected to-day, and naturally we want to make her coming to us – the only home she has now – as bright and happy as possible.” Christabel tossed her head. “I was going to say, Japs dear,” she added to the child, “that very likely there will be some flowers from the Fareham conservatories. The last we can have! But it will be nice if there are.”
“Mayn’t we have some in our room?” asked Leila suddenly. The word “flowers coming” had caught her ears, though she had heard nothing else.
“I cannot say till I see what there are,” replied Mrs Fortescue, and Leila relapsed into silence, and turning to the window, stood gazing out at the rainswept street.
“Even a few flowers grudged me,” she thought. “I wish I hadn’t asked for them,” and indeed the doing so had been an impulse not at all of a piece with her attitude of “suffering saint.”
“Chrissie,” Mrs Fortescue began again, “did you look at yourself in the glass before you came down? you had better do so now. You are inexcusably untidy.”
“Am I?” said Christabel airily. “Well, yes, my collar’s crooked, I feel.” She gave a tug to it, but in the wrong direction, which did not improve matters. “It was all.”
“You’re not to say I had anything to do with it, or you, this morning,” snapped out Leila.
“Hush,” said their mother. “Go upstairs, Christabel, and dress yourself properly, and above all, wash your face and hands carefully.”
“I did wash them – at least I think I did, after I got out of my bath,” Chrissie replied. “They can’t have been very bad or Dads would have noticed them.”
“I am quite sure he did, but we did not want another breakfast upset by you children, like yesterday,” said Mrs Fortescue. “Go now and do as I have told you,” and Chrissie went off, pretending to whistle. “Leila,” she continued, “what are you intending to do this morning?”
“Mayn’t I have my book back?” asked Leila, “I did get up early.”
“It is in the drawing-room,” her mother replied. “Yes, you may have it, but in the first place I want you and Chrissie to help a little in the house. I am thinking of leaving the dusting of the drawing-room every morning to you, if you will be very careful with the ornaments. Harriet sweeps and brushes and does the fire of course, early, but the dusting takes time, and she is very busy in the mornings.” Leila stared.
“Us dust – like housemaids,” she said, and a sharp pang of disappointment went through her mother, for she had really expected that the little girls would have felt interest, and even pride, in taking upon them the charge she proposed – a far from difficult or disagreeable one.
Leila, not observing her mother’s change of expression, went on coolly.
“What’s the hurry with the drawing-room?” she said. “The fire’s not to be lighted first thing, I suppose. Harriet can surely dust it before the middle of the day.”
“No,” replied Mrs Fortescue, “I do not think she can. Certainly she could not do it properly. At your age I should have been very proud of being trusted with a little work of the kind; besides – ”
“I daresay, Mummy, you were an angelic child, and certainly neither Chrissie nor I pretend to be anything of the sort; it seems to me that fathers and mothers always were pieces of perfection by what one hears them say of themselves.”
Her words were almost impertinent, but her tone sounded as if she were half in fun, so her mother took no notice of the interruption: “besides,” she went on, “the drawing-room from now must be ready early for Aunt Margaret. She must have all the comfort we can give her.”
“Aunt Margaret,” repeated Leila, opening her eyes very wide. “But it’s not fixed about her coming, is it?”
Then Mrs Fortescue’s patience began to give way.
“Leila, you are too bad,” she exclaimed. “What have you been thinking of all this time? You heard your father talking of going to the station? You yourself asked if you could have some of the flowers? You must have understood that Aunt Margaret is coming to-day – this afternoon.”
Leila looked rather foolish.
“To-day,” she repeated lamely. “I – well, yes, I remember about the flowers, but I thought they were being sent up from Fareham as usual.”
Perhaps for peace’ sake it was as well that just then Harriet came in to clear the breakfast-table, and Mrs Fortescue hurried off to her morning interview with Susan in the kitchen, leaving Leila still staring out of the window. But the clatter and bustle of Harriet’s rather clumsy movements fidgeted her. She turned to the door and made her way slowly into the drawing-room.
“I may as well get my book,” she said to herself, though I hope that in her heart there was some faint intention of fulfilling the task her mother had spoken of. Arrived in the drawing-room, she stood still and looked round her.
“So this, the only decent room in the house, is to be given up to Aunt Margaret,” she thought, “and we’re to be her servants! Well – it’s all of a piece: but Chrissie won’t stand it, and it will all fall upon me, no doubt, like everything else disagreeable. Yes I would far, far rather be a governess, or even what they call a pupil-teacher, in a school, than be treated like a servant in my own home. If only I were a little older.”
Then her eyes fell on her book. She took it up and sat down, fingering the pages.
“I can’t dust without a towel or a cloth or whatever they call it, and I don’t know where to get one. I may as well read till Chrissie comes down,” and in two moments she was lost to everything outside her story.
Luckily, however, as she probably would have caught cold from sitting still in a fireless room where the window was still slightly open at the top, and the door, of course, ajar – luckily, she was not long left in peace. A clatter and dash down the staircase, and Christabel’s voice —
“Where are you, Lell? Answer, can’t you?” as she dived in and out of the dining-room, without finding her sister. “Oh, there you are! You can’t be hidden for long in this cupboard of a house.”
Her good-humour seemed restored, and as Leila, unwillingly enough, glanced up in response to this summons, she saw that Christabel, if not very tidy as yet, still looked better than at the breakfast-table.
“What are you doing? Oh, reading of course. I say, it’s freezing in here. Don’t you see the window’s half open and there’s no fire. Why don’t you stay in the dining-room? There’s no one there,” Chrissie went on.
“Mother will be coming there directly, and I don’t want her to see me just now,” said Leila. “Chrissie,” she went on, feeling too much in need of sympathy to keep up her rôle of solitary martyrdom. “Chrissie, what do you think Mummy’s just been telling me? Shut the window, can’t you, if you don’t like it open. I’m sure I don’t care whether it’s open or shut – I’m far too miserable;” and Chrissie, her curiosity aroused, for once obeyed without a murmur, and then turned eagerly to Leila.
“What?” she asked, “are we to be sent to school?”
Leila shrugged her shoulders.
“I only wish it was that,” she said. “No – of course they’d say a good school would cost too much, and they couldn’t send us to a common one. No, it’s nothing about lessons. I daresay we shan’t be taught any more – it doesn’t seem as if we’d need to be! No – it’s this – you and I are to be housemaids!”
“What do you mean?” exclaimed Christabel, “you are talking nonsense.”
Leila explained, but to her chagrin she did not meet with the sympathy she expected. On the contrary, Christabel’s eyes sparkled.
“Dusting the drawing-room,” she repeated. “Oh, I don’t mind that. It will be fun. I shall like it, at least,” she added candidly, “till I yet tired of it. I’d much rather do it than tidy up our own room.”
“You may be quite sure you’ll have to do both,” said Leila gloomily, “and you’d better not talk about getting tired of it.”
“Well, any way, I’m quite ready to begin at once,” said Chrissie. “Where are the things – dusters – and soft brushes – feather brushes; I’ve seen them using them for china ornaments, haven’t I?”
“I don’t know,” groaned Leila, without moving; and with a contemptuous “you are a lazy idiot,” Chrissie darted off. But she was brought to a sudden standstill in the doorway by running against Jasper, who was making his way in, carrying some cloths, and one or two brushes, among them a feather one, which he evidently much admired, as he held it aloft. It was of several colours.
“Isn’t it pretty?” he said. “It’s to stay in the droind-room, Mumsey says, just to be used a werry little – for the bestest orniments, I s’pose. But here’s another one, and lots of dustiners for us all.”
“Dusters, you silly,” corrected Chrissie, “but, they’re for Lell and me, Japs. You can’t dust.”
“Mumsey says I might ’elp,” he exclaimed, for his “h’s,” like those of all young children, still sometimes deserted him, when he was very eager. “I’ll be werry careful – Mums said I might do the tiny iv’ry figures – what Dads brought from Inja, you know,” and he pointed to some curious and valuable little carvings, which Mr Fortescue had not found it in his heart to part with.
Chrissie glanced at them.
“Well, you couldn’t very easily break those, I suppose,” she said. “Give me a duster: and Lell, wake up, can’t you?”
Leila slowly rose and looked about her. There was really not very much fear of the amateur housemaids doing any damage, for Mrs Fortescue had taken care to place the few ornaments of value in a glazed cabinet, and only left out several pretty but not very rare or irreplaceable things, just to give the room a bright and homelike look. And one side-table was left quite bare.
“We must put some things – books any way,” – said Leila, “on that table – it looks so silly with nothing at all;” and she was on the point of doing so, for, in spite of herself, she was beginning to enter into the spirit of their new occupation a little, when Jasper stopped her.
“That table’s to be for Aunt Margaret,” he said. “She’ll keep her books and things there. And there’s a nice deep drawer – that goes down quite low, you see,” he opened it as he spoke, “for her work, Mums says.”
“How do you know about it?” asked his sisters, rather sharply. “You are such a prig,” added Chrissie.
“Mumsey showed it me when we was settlin’ about the dustin’ this mornin’,” he replied calmly.
Leila and Chrissie looked at each other.
“Really,” said the former, though in a low voice, “I do think mother should talk to us about what she is going to make us do before she discusses it all with a baby like Jasper.”
Christabel did not at once answer. She was less of a self-deceiver than Leila, and she knew that neither she nor her sister had behaved in such a way as to let it be easy or pleasant for their mother to consult them about the new state of things.
“I don’t suppose she said much to him,” she replied, “and he’s not a bit a tell-tale – he never makes mischief. He’s really a good little fellow – much better than we were at his age, or than – ”
“Speak for yourself, if you please,” interrupted Leila crossly. She had a very shrewd suspicion what the end of the sentence was going to be and she did not want to hear it.
Christabel set to work in her usual energetic way. Jasper had already been at his corner steadily for some minutes. He rubbed at the chairs as if they were ponies that he was grooming, calling out to his sisters to look how he had made the wood shine, and seeing him, and Chrissie too, so active, Leila caught the infection, and being the tallest of the three, took the mantelpiece ornaments as her special department, and found to her surprise that she really enjoyed “housemaiding.”
So that the dusting proved quite a success, and when Mrs Fortescue, having given her orders downstairs and seen to the last arrangements for their expected guest upstairs, glanced in, to see what they were all about, she was pleased and surprised to hear cheerful voices and to be met by bright faces.
“We’ve done it, Mummy – all, splendidly. I don’t believe you could find a speck of dust if you looked for it with a microscope,” cried Chrissie.
“That’s very nice – very nice indeed,” replied her mother. “I hope you haven’t felt cold. From now, the fire will always be lighted early, and you can come straight in here immediately after breakfast.”
“Or before,” said Chrissie, with overflowing zeal. “I’m not afraid of cold – when you’re bustling about you never feel it.”
“Well,” said her mother, smiling, “if Harriet gets her part done early, you may certainly follow her as soon as you like.”
“You may safely say so to Chrissie,” said Leila. “I think it’s better to promise less and keep to what you undertake. I don’t see that I can do my part any earlier, and you know, Mummy, Chrissie tires of everything much quicker than I do.”
“Then you must keep her up to the mark,” said Mrs Fortescue. “With enthusiasm in one and steadiness in the other, things should go on very well, I think,” and this pleasant little speech was fortunately in time to stop a burst of indignation from Chrissie.
“And I’ll always make the chairs shine, Mummy. I’ll never forget,” said Jasper.
“I’m sure you won’t, my boy,” replied his mother.
But as she was just leaving the room as she spoke, it is to be hoped she did not hear Leila’s muttered —
“Spoilt little prig that he is – ”
