The House That Grew by Mrs. Molesworth

  CHAPTER IV

  'GEORDIE STOOD UP AND WAVED HIS CAP'

  No--papa and mamma had not been thinking of anything of thatkind--afterwards mamma told me they had only been saying to each otherhow sweet and pretty it all looked and--though perhaps they did not sayso aloud--feeling no doubt how sad it was that we should so soon have toleave it.

  But they came in quite brightly, and mamma answered gaily to Esme'sexclamations about the 'lovely tea-party.'

  'Yes,' she said, 'it does look nice. And muffins too'--as Geordieglanced up with a very red face from the fire where he was toasting one;'don't scorch yourself _too_ much, in our service, my dear boy.'

  'It's a good bit for myself as well,' said Geordie in his rather gruffway. He always spoke like that if he thought he was being praised--aboveall, the least _over_-praised. 'I like muffins better than any kind ofcake or things.'

  He certainly knew how to toast and butter them to perfection. I rememberhow very good they were that day. Indeed, the tea-party was a greatsuccess altogether. After it was over we carried all the cups andsaucers and plates into the kitchen, to be ready for Margery to wash up,for mamma had left word at home that she was to come down to the hut todo so, which we were very glad of.

  'I wanted to be together as much as possible to-day,' said mamma in herkind way. And just as we had cleared away everything in the parlour wesaw Margery coming, and to my great delight Esme asked if she and Denzilmight 'help her' in the kitchen, for Dods and I had been wondering howwe could get rid of the little ones without seeming unkind.

  So off they ran, and then for a few minutes we four--'big ones,' I wasgoing to say, only that does seem putting Geordie and myself too much ona line with papa and mamma, doesn't it?--sat silent. I was feelingrather nervous, not afraid of papa and mamma, but afraid of themthinking it was all a perfectly impossible plan.

  But at last, after looking at me several times and even giving me twoor three little kicks, Geordie plunged in, as was his way--

  'Ida has something to say to you,' he began. 'It's only fair for her tosay it, for it's all her own idea, though we have talked about it a gooddeal.'

  Papa looked at me very kindly.

  'What is it, my little girl?' he said. 'I am sure you know how pleasedI--and your mother--will be to do anything we can to--to brighten allthese troubles.'

  He seemed to know by instinct that what I had to say must have to dowith what he had told us the day before. Yes--only the day before! Icould scarcely believe it--it seemed years ago.

  I felt my face growing red; mamma was looking at me too, and though hereyes were very kind, I grew more and more nervous, and of course Iblurted it out quite differently from what I had meant to.

  'It isn't only for us ourselves,' I began, 'though we should like itever so much--awfully much better than anything else. But I feel as ifit would be nicer for everybody--for mamma too, and for papa, when youare far away, you know,' and here I turned specially to him, 'not tohave to think of us in a strange place and among strange people.And--and--there are lots of little bits of it that seem to fit in sowell.'

  'But, my dear child, I must interrupt you,' said papa smiling, 'beforeyou go on to the "bits," do tell us what the whole is?'

  I had really forgotten that I had not done so--my own mind was so fullof it, you see.

  'Oh,' I said, feeling very much ashamed of myself, especially as I knewGeordie's blue eyes were fixed on me reproachfully. 'I'm very sorry forbeing so stupid. It's just this, papa--we've been thinking, at least Ithought of it first, and Dods has joined in the planning, that--whyshouldn't we all, mamma and us four, come to _live_ here, really to livehere altogether, while you are away?'

  Papa gazed at me as if he did not understand, and no doubt just at firsthe did not.

  'Live _here_,' he repeated, 'but that is just----'

  'Yes,' I interrupted,--'here, in the hut. I don't mean of course go onliving at home, at Eastercove, though it would be Eastercove too. That'sthe beauty of it; you would be able to feel that we _were_ at home, andclose to all our friends.'

  But still papa repeated, in a dazed sort of way, I would say 'stupid,'only it would seem rude--

  'Live _here_.'

  (I do think men are far slower at taking up new ideas than women.)

  'Live _here_,' he said again, till I really wished it would not bedisrespectful to give him a little shake, and even Dods, who is farpatienter and less im----what should I say?--impetuous or impulseful, Imust ask mamma which is best, began to look rather provoked. But mammaput it all right.

  'Yes, Jack,' she said, the colour rushing into her face and her eyessparkling,--'yes, _here_ in the hut, is what the child means, and,really, I think it is an inspiration.' Mamma _is_ quick, and she hassuch a beautifully ready imagination. 'I don't see why we shouldn't. Itis perfectly healthy; dry and airy and quite warm except perhaps in themiddle of winter, and we surely could find ways and means of making a_dry_ house warm. Ida, darling, I believe you have hit upon a way out ofour greatest difficulty. _Do_ say you think so too, Jack!'

  Light was gradually penetrating into papa's mind.

  'Here in the hut! Yes, I wish it were possible,' he said, 'and I agreewith you both so far. It _is_ dry and healthy, and might be made warm,but--it is so small! Ah!' and he started to his feet, his whole facechanging, 'talking of inspirations, I'm not sure but that _I_ have gotone too--the------'

  Here to our amazement, mamma's and mine I mean, in _his_ turn up jumpedDods, and, respectful or not, interrupted papa in the most barefacedway--

  'Stop, stop!' he cried, 'let me say it, Dad, do, before you do. I wantto have a bit of it. Is your inspiration the old parish room? The ironroom they want to get rid of? _Is_ it?--do say.'

  They were both so excited it was quite funny to see them, Geordieespecially, for he is much calmer than papa naturally. Papa turned tohim smiling--

  'You have guessed it, my boy. Yes, we might buy the room and turn itinto two or three at least. It could not cost much--our own men could doit, I believe. It has doorways and windows and fireplaces too, I think,all ready, and I believe we can have it for an old song----'

  'I hope I shan't be the one chosen to sing it!' exclaimed Dods, at whichwe all laughed, though it was not particularly witty. But we were justin the sort of humour to laugh at the least little piece of fun.

  'I wish--upon my word, I wish I could see about it this veryafternoon,' went on papa, who was now racing ahead of us all in hiseagerness.

  'But you can't, dear; it's Sunday, you know,' said mamma, patting hisarm; 'and we have plenty to think about. There is no fear of Mr. Lloyd'sselling it before to-morrow morning. Let us hear some more of your plan,Ida, dear.'

  I was only too ready to tell it--I was bursting to do so, and so wasGeordie. We set to work and talked--how we did talk!--papa and mammaputting in a word now and then, though they were so kind, understandingour wish to be considered the 'discoverers,' as it were, of the newhome, that they really let us talk ourselves out. Then we four made asort of progress through the rooms, papa measuring here and there withthe little folding-up foot-rule he always carried in his pocket, andmamma planning where she would put such and such a piece of furniturewhich could be quite well spared from the almost too full rooms up atthe house, not to speak of the stores--treasures they were fast becomingin our eyes now--crowded away in the big garret.

  'We must go up there first thing to-morrow morning,' said mamma, 'andhave a good look round. I don't believe I know half the things wehave--no one does, except Hoskins.'

  'You will have to take her into your confidence at once, I expect,' saidpapa.

  'Yes, I was just thinking so,' mamma replied; 'but I shall wait till youhave inquired about the iron room. She knows our troubles already,' shewent on, turning to Geordie and me; 'she has known about them for somedays, and she says whatever we do, or wherever we go, she will not leaveus.'

  'Oh, I _am_ so glad!' exclaimed Geordie and I in a breath. 'We thoughtshe would be like that,' I went
on; 'and I should hope she'd like thehut far, far better than going away to some horrid little poky houseamong strangers. And, mamma, don't you think Margery would be the bestfor the other servant.'

  'Are we to have two?' said mamma laughing. 'Your plans are getting quitegrand, Ida!'

  'Of course you must have two,' said papa, 'and one of the men to lookafter things outside. I have an idea about that; Geordie and I will talkabout it together,' and he nodded to Geordie, who looked very pleased atbeing consulted in this way, as if he were quite big.

  'When will you ask about the parish room?' he said to papa. 'May I gowith you when you do? Perhaps I could help about the measuring.'

  For they had already settled as to where it should be placed--at oneside of the hut, but a little to the back, so that it should not spoilthe rather pretty look we were gradually managing to give to the front,by training creepers over the porch, and filling two or three largesquare tubs with bushy, hardy plants which would stand the winter, andplacing them at each side of the long low windows.

  'Certainly,' said papa. 'We can drive down to Kirke immediately afterbreakfast to-morrow morning. And if it is all right about the room, Iwill see the man whom, I think, Mr. Lloyd employed to put it up. He willunderstand the best way of partitioning it off, and our own men can workunder his directions.'

  So it was in the best of spirits--considering, that is to say, the realsorrow of parting with dear papa, and the real anxiety that _must_ hangover us for many months to come, at least--that we set off home again,Esme chattering about how she had wiped all the tea-cups and saucers,and how Margery had said that she could not possibly have 'got through'without her.

  'That is not a very elegant expression, my little girl,' said papa.'Don't you think you could say it some other way.'

  Esme looked rather puzzled.

  'You says,' she replied, and at that papa laughed--I think he felt itwas out of the frying-pan into the fire,--'you says to mamma or to Idawhen we're playing croquet, "Now see if you can't get through thathoop."'

  'But cups and saucers isn't croquet hoops,' said Denzil solemnly, atwhich we all laughed. A very small joke will go a long way when peopleare all happy together, and each one trying to do his best to please oramuse the others.

  When I awoke on Monday morning it was with much more quietly hopefulfeelings than on that sad Saturday I could have believed possible. Iseemed to myself to have grown years older in the two days, which waspartly nice and partly, just a very little, 'frightening.' I was proudof my idea being thought so well of, and I was very anxious to think itout more and more, so as really to help mamma and to prove that it _was_a good one. So, though it was still very early, I lay quite quietly anddid not mind the having a good while to wait till it was time to getup, so busied was my brain in going into all the details which I wasable to think about.

  'Two little beds for Esme and me,' I began. 'Let me see which are thesmallest, to take up the least room? This one is rather too big, andbesides, the people who have taken the house will most likely need itleft. I wonder what they will do with this room. I daresay they will useit for visitors. It is so pretty--my own dear room!' For since my lastbirthday I had had a room to myself, all freshly done up with lightchintz curtains and covers and white furniture. But I resolutely put thethought of my regret out of my mind, and went on thinking about the hut.Esme's cot would be big enough for her for a good while, and there wasat least one old small bedstead up in the garret, and then Dods and Ihad saved enough money to buy one, as I said.

  'We must spend it on _something_ for the hut,' I reflected. 'Perhaps wehad better ask mamma what would be the most useful.'

  Then my mind went on again about the other rooms and what would beneeded for them, and I had just arrived at the chests of drawers when Imust have fallen asleep, for when I was awakened by Margery and theannouncement, 'Seven o'clock, Miss Ida,' I found myself dreaming that Iwas hanging up curtains in front of the fireplace instead of the window,and wondering how we could prevent their flying up the chimney!

  After breakfast papa and Geordie set off almost immediately for Kirke,to catch Mr. Lloyd before his week's work began again, papa said. And assoon as mamma had finished her regular housekeeping business for theday, she and I went up to the garret together, to spy the land, orrather the stores. I forget if I said that we happened to be in themiddle of our Easter holidays just then, which was most lucky, was itnot?

  Mamma and I really enjoyed ourselves up in the garret. It was all soneat, and not fusty or dusty or musty, and we came upon treasures--asoften is the case if you explore a lumber-room--whose very existenceeven mamma had forgotten.

  'I really think, Ida,' mamma began, pushing her hair out of her eyes ina pretty way she has; her hair is lovely, so curly and fuzzy, likeEsme's, though mine is dreadfully smooth! and theirs never _looks_messy, however untidy it really may get,--'I really think we could findenough furniture here to do for all the rooms, after a fashion. And wecan certainly take a few things away from downstairs without spoilingthe look of the house. Two beds at least--and one or two small tables. Imust have a writing-table for myself--and several of the wicker chairsin the verandah might be spared. Yes--I really don't think thefurnishing will be much difficulty or expense.'

  'And Doddie and I have saved sixteen and sixpence, you know, mamma,' Isaid. 'We meant to buy a camp bedstead for the hut, you know, wheneveryou would let us furnish the room that is going to be our drawing-roomnow. So we can still get one for Dods if you like, or anything elseneeded.'

  'Yes, darling,' said mamma. 'That will be very nice. We can wait alittle till we see what is most required.'

  She spoke quite as seriously as I had done, though I know _now_ thatsixteen and sixpence is really not nearly as much money as I thenthought it. But that is what has always been so dear about mamma; shenever 'snubs' us. And many people, even really very kind people, do hurtchildren's feelings dreadfully sometimes without in the least meaningit. It is one of the things I mean to try always to remember when I amquite grown-up myself, and it would be very wrong and ungrateful of anyof _us_ ever to forget it, for our father and mother have shown us sucha good example about it.

  Then mamma went off to write some letters and I to the schoolroom topractise, which had to be done, holidays or no holidays!

  'I wonder if we shall have a piano at the hut,' I thought. 'I shan'tvery much mind if we don't,' for at that time I did not care much formusic, not, at least, for my own performances. Since then I have come to'appreciate' it a little better, though I am not at all clever about it,and I am afraid papa and mamma are rather disappointed at this. But Esmeis learning the violin and plays already so well that I hope she willmake up for me.

  I kept running to the window--the schoolroom overlooks the drive--everytime I heard the sound of wheels, to see if it was papa and Geordiecoming back, which was very silly, as of course they would have a gooddeal to do, measuring and seeing the carpenter and arranging it all. ButI felt as if I could not settle to anything till I knew about the ironroom, as it did seem as if the whole plan depended a good deal on ourgetting it. And when at last I did catch sight of the dogcart comingswiftly along the avenue, my heart began to beat so fast that I had tostop once or twice to take breath on my way to the hall-door.

  Mamma was there before me, as anxious as I, I do believe, though she wastoo sensible to show it.

  But before they got to the house, we knew it was all right. Geordiestood up in the cart and waved his cap for us to understand.

  'Oh, I am so glad!' I cried, and mamma smiled.

  How strangely things change their--oh, dear, I can't find just the rightword; yes, I have it now 'aspects'--in life sometimes. This was Monday;on Saturday only had we heard _the_ sad news, and here we were, quite ingood, almost high spirits again, about a little bettering of what, if wehad foreseen it a week ago, we should certainly have thought a cloudwith no silver lining!

  Papa and Dods jumped down in a moment, and threw the reins to the groom.


  'Is it----' I began.

  'All right,' papa interrupted. 'Lloyd is delighted. Very kind andsympathising, of course, with us, but so interested in our--I shouldsay,' with a smile to me, 'Ida's scheme. He thinks it a first-rateidea, at any rate till the autumn.'

  'And he is coming up himself this afternoon,' said Geordie, 'with thedrawings and measures of the room, that he got when he bought it.'

  'Very good of him,' said mamma.

  'And Jervis, the carpenter, is coming too,' George went on; 'and we mustall go down to the hut together. Mr. Lloyd said _particularly_ Ida.'

  I felt myself grow red with pleasure.

  'Yes,' said papa; 'we must all go and give our opinions. I am very gladto have secured the room. They were already beginning to take it down.It is a very good size really, larger than you would think; and thereare two doorways, I am glad to find, and a little porch. I have two orthree ideas in my head as to how to join it on and so forth, but I cango into them better on the spot.'

  'Ida and I have been busy too,' said mamma. 'Really, Jack, you wouldscarcely believe the amount of extra furniture we have. There will bevery little to buy--only, I do believe, one camp bedstead for Geordie,and perhaps a servant's one; and a few bright, warm-looking rugs.'

  '_We_ might buy those, mamma,' I interrupted eagerly. 'I have toldmamma about our sixteen and sixpence, Doddie,' I went on, turning toGeorge. 'I knew you wouldn't mind.'

  Geordie nodded.

  'Sixteen and sixpence,' repeated papa. 'How have you managed to gettogether all that?'

  'It's _hut_ money,' I replied. 'I mean it's on purpose to spend on thehut. We have other savings, too, for Christmas and birthdays--this isall for the hut.'

  'And it shall be spent on the hut,' said papa, 'on something lasting--todo honour to you both.'

  Wasn't that nice of him?