Turquoise and Ruby by L. T. Meade
Amberley perceived it in hisstudy. He slightly sniffed, and thought of toasted cheese. He feltpangs of hunger which, as a rule, he was not accustomed to. The girlswere flying about: they seemed in high spirits.
"What a delightful day it is," thought the rector to himself, and heshut up the musty old Josephus with a bang and decided to give an oldsermon for the sixth time of hearing to his parishioners on Sunday, andnot to worry any more about a new one until the hot weather was over.He even went to the length of standing by the open study window andlooking across the sun-flecked garden.
Presently, he saw his daughters entering the house with trailing flowersof all sorts and descriptions in their arms. He wondered what could beup. Josephine, who had a certain knack for the arrangement of dinnertables, was laying a white cloth on the board. In the centre she placedbillowy piles of green art muslin which she had bought that morning inthe village--or rather, put down to the housekeeping account. Rows ofsweet peas and carnations were then placed in bowls in the centre of thetable and, this handiwork having been completed, Josie rushed up to herroom to put on the best dress she possessed. In short, the entire placewore a festive air.
"It's because dear Brenda has returned," thought the rector.
He felt the difference without observing it. But when sharp littleFanchon appeared and led him into the dining-room and he beheld with hisown eyes two plump birds waiting to be carved, and saw the green peas,and the new potatoes, and the apple sauce, and the differentaccompaniments of young ducks, he forgot everything in the joy ofgratifying his appetite.
The three girls were waiting--no servant ever attended at meals,--theirfaces were flushed with delight. The rector did not even ask, "Where isBrenda?" He flopped down into his seat, said grace, and began to carvethe birds.
Brenda entered in a pale green cotton dress, which suited her lissomyoung figure to perfection. She took her seat meekly. The girls didnot speak to her, but the rector addressed her with enthusiasm.
"My dear,"--he said--"what a delicious feast we are having, and how verygood of you to manage it out of the housekeeping money. I know--my dearBrenda--that I give you far too little; but my stipend, my dear, is sosmall, and the needs of my poor so considerable--"
"There's raspberry tart and cream coming on," said Nina, "so let's hurryup with the ducks."
The rector placed the first delicious morsel between his lips. Brendamade a gentle remark to the effect that she was glad she had pleasedhim. Nina gave a groan; Joey kicked her sister's foot; Fanchon tried tolook stately, but failed. Notwithstanding all these things, however,the three girls and their father thoroughly enjoyed the excellentdinner.
"I feel a new man," said Mr Amberley, when it was over. "It iswonderful how supporting really tasty food is. My dear Brenda, I thankyou."
She bowed to him--a mocking light in her eyes which he did not observe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
REACTION.
It was after dinner that Fanchon approached her governess.
"I hope you enjoyed your dinner," she said.
"Yes; it was very good," said Brenda.
"When do you feel inclined to have a chat with me?" pursued Fanchon.
"Not just at present," answered Brenda.
"But you'd better be quick about it, for we mean always to live well inthe future. Joey and I think that we might order a crab for supperto-night--papa loves crabs."
Brenda was silent.
"When can we have our talk?" continued Fanchon.
"Well, I don't think just at present; will you give me until evening?Order what you wish to-day, but don't be too extravagant, you'll onlyhave an illness. I give you plain food, for it is really best fromevery point of view, and your father's allowance of housekeeping moneyis very limited."
"I can ask him, of course, what he does give," said Fanchon.
"No, no; don't do that--"
"And," continued Fanchon, as though she had not heard the last remark,"I can find out what the butcher's bills, and the green grocer's, andthe grocer's come to per week. I shall be rather clever about thesethings in future."
Brenda made no reply. After a minute's pause, she said:
"Would you really like me to leave you?"
"I think, on the whole, I should very much."
"You would wish to give up going to Marshlands-on-the-Sea?"
"No--that would be a disappointment."
"You can't go there without me."
"Oh--I suppose we could get some one else."
"There is no one else whom your father would trust."
Fanchon was silent and a little thoughtful.
"I have a plan to propose to you, Fanchon," said her governess suddenly;"but I shall not propose it now--I will keep it until to-night.To-night, at ten o'clock, come to my room and I will talk to you. Inthe meantime, tell the other girls that for to-day, just for to-day,they may do as they please. Now let me be alone; I have a headache."
Fanchon danced off to communicate this news to her sisters.
"The cat's caving in like anything," she said. "We shall have a jolly,jolly time in future!"
"What can we have to eat at tea-time?" was Nina's remark.
"Oh--you little goose," exclaimed Fanchon, "you can't possibly be hungryyet."
"But I shall be hungry when tea-time comes."
"Well, get what you like, both of you."
"Let's go to the shops this blessed minute," said Nina, turning toJosephine.
They started off arm in arm. They did not mind the fact that they werewearing their only white frocks--their Sunday-go-to-meeting frocks, andthat Nina's was already sadly stained with some juice from the raspberrytart. They did not mind the fact also that they had outgrown thesefrocks, and that the people stared at the rector's daughters when theywere at all respectably attired. They were too excited to think ofanything but the victory they were having over old pussy-cat--which wastheir present name for their hitherto beloved Brenda.
They went to the shops where Brenda dealt, and ordered rich plum cakefor tea, two sorts of jam, some more fruit and some more cream; and forsupper they ordered crabs--two crabs to be sent up dressed, from thefishmonger's, also a lobster, and also a large plate of prawns. Havingthus wilfully expended money which might have kept the rectory on itsordinary _regime_ for weeks, they returned home in the best of spirits.
'Tis a little sad to relate that even mice, in their moments of triumphover their legendary foe--the domestic cat--may sometimes overdo things.For two of these little mice felt decidedly ill that night from thedireful effects of overeating. Nina spent that night, which she hadfelt would be of such triumph, rolling from side to side in bed andcrying out with pain, and Josephine had the most appalling succession ofnightmares. But Fanchon was more moderate in her eating and, therefore,did not suffer. She had her work cut out for her; and that evening, atthe appointed hour--regardless of Nina's cries and Josephine'sfrightened exclamations in her sleep--she went off to interview hergoverness in her bedroom.
Brenda was waiting for her, and was quite ready. She had beenfrightened, terribly frightened, in the morning, but she was alarmed nolonger. She had been given time to think, to consider, to form herplans. The discovery which those tiresome children had made wasaltogether most unpleasant. Had it been made by older people, it wouldalmost have been dangerous. But Brenda felt that she could manage thechildren. She must sacrifice something, it is true, but she need notsacrifice everything.
The girls had never been trained in high principles. They had beenbrought up anyhow. The rector was not a specially admirable man. It istrue, he lived according to his lights, but these did not carry him far.His children were motherless, and it did not occur to him to suspectthe girl into whose care he placed them. He was devoted to his poorerparishioners, and was kindness itself to them, denying himself manythings for their benefit. But it was his object in life to do what hecould for his orphans, and he thought he had done so when he put such apretty, charming girl as Bre
nda Carlton over their heads. He believedfully in Brenda, and admired her immensely. He thought her a trulyChristian young woman; for she was regular in her attendance at church,and always looked--he considered--so sweet and interested when hepreached to her. It was wonderful how he found himself preachingdirectly to her, Sunday after Sunday, suiting his words to her need andthinking of her as he addressed, or was supposed to address, hiscongregation.
As to the children's education, he expected them to go to Sunday school;but as their teacher there was no other than Brenda herself, it cannotbe said that they gained much by this special instruction.
Brenda looked very pretty when she taught her class. Most of the timeshe told them good
"What a delightful day it is," thought the rector to himself, and heshut up the musty old Josephus with a bang and decided to give an oldsermon for the sixth time of hearing to his parishioners on Sunday, andnot to worry any more about a new one until the hot weather was over.He even went to the length of standing by the open study window andlooking across the sun-flecked garden.
Presently, he saw his daughters entering the house with trailing flowersof all sorts and descriptions in their arms. He wondered what could beup. Josephine, who had a certain knack for the arrangement of dinnertables, was laying a white cloth on the board. In the centre she placedbillowy piles of green art muslin which she had bought that morning inthe village--or rather, put down to the housekeeping account. Rows ofsweet peas and carnations were then placed in bowls in the centre of thetable and, this handiwork having been completed, Josie rushed up to herroom to put on the best dress she possessed. In short, the entire placewore a festive air.
"It's because dear Brenda has returned," thought the rector.
He felt the difference without observing it. But when sharp littleFanchon appeared and led him into the dining-room and he beheld with hisown eyes two plump birds waiting to be carved, and saw the green peas,and the new potatoes, and the apple sauce, and the differentaccompaniments of young ducks, he forgot everything in the joy ofgratifying his appetite.
The three girls were waiting--no servant ever attended at meals,--theirfaces were flushed with delight. The rector did not even ask, "Where isBrenda?" He flopped down into his seat, said grace, and began to carvethe birds.
Brenda entered in a pale green cotton dress, which suited her lissomyoung figure to perfection. She took her seat meekly. The girls didnot speak to her, but the rector addressed her with enthusiasm.
"My dear,"--he said--"what a delicious feast we are having, and how verygood of you to manage it out of the housekeeping money. I know--my dearBrenda--that I give you far too little; but my stipend, my dear, is sosmall, and the needs of my poor so considerable--"
"There's raspberry tart and cream coming on," said Nina, "so let's hurryup with the ducks."
The rector placed the first delicious morsel between his lips. Brendamade a gentle remark to the effect that she was glad she had pleasedhim. Nina gave a groan; Joey kicked her sister's foot; Fanchon tried tolook stately, but failed. Notwithstanding all these things, however,the three girls and their father thoroughly enjoyed the excellentdinner.
"I feel a new man," said Mr Amberley, when it was over. "It iswonderful how supporting really tasty food is. My dear Brenda, I thankyou."
She bowed to him--a mocking light in her eyes which he did not observe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN.
REACTION.
It was after dinner that Fanchon approached her governess.
"I hope you enjoyed your dinner," she said.
"Yes; it was very good," said Brenda.
"When do you feel inclined to have a chat with me?" pursued Fanchon.
"Not just at present," answered Brenda.
"But you'd better be quick about it, for we mean always to live well inthe future. Joey and I think that we might order a crab for supperto-night--papa loves crabs."
Brenda was silent.
"When can we have our talk?" continued Fanchon.
"Well, I don't think just at present; will you give me until evening?Order what you wish to-day, but don't be too extravagant, you'll onlyhave an illness. I give you plain food, for it is really best fromevery point of view, and your father's allowance of housekeeping moneyis very limited."
"I can ask him, of course, what he does give," said Fanchon.
"No, no; don't do that--"
"And," continued Fanchon, as though she had not heard the last remark,"I can find out what the butcher's bills, and the green grocer's, andthe grocer's come to per week. I shall be rather clever about thesethings in future."
Brenda made no reply. After a minute's pause, she said:
"Would you really like me to leave you?"
"I think, on the whole, I should very much."
"You would wish to give up going to Marshlands-on-the-Sea?"
"No--that would be a disappointment."
"You can't go there without me."
"Oh--I suppose we could get some one else."
"There is no one else whom your father would trust."
Fanchon was silent and a little thoughtful.
"I have a plan to propose to you, Fanchon," said her governess suddenly;"but I shall not propose it now--I will keep it until to-night.To-night, at ten o'clock, come to my room and I will talk to you. Inthe meantime, tell the other girls that for to-day, just for to-day,they may do as they please. Now let me be alone; I have a headache."
Fanchon danced off to communicate this news to her sisters.
"The cat's caving in like anything," she said. "We shall have a jolly,jolly time in future!"
"What can we have to eat at tea-time?" was Nina's remark.
"Oh--you little goose," exclaimed Fanchon, "you can't possibly be hungryyet."
"But I shall be hungry when tea-time comes."
"Well, get what you like, both of you."
"Let's go to the shops this blessed minute," said Nina, turning toJosephine.
They started off arm in arm. They did not mind the fact that they werewearing their only white frocks--their Sunday-go-to-meeting frocks, andthat Nina's was already sadly stained with some juice from the raspberrytart. They did not mind the fact also that they had outgrown thesefrocks, and that the people stared at the rector's daughters when theywere at all respectably attired. They were too excited to think ofanything but the victory they were having over old pussy-cat--which wastheir present name for their hitherto beloved Brenda.
They went to the shops where Brenda dealt, and ordered rich plum cakefor tea, two sorts of jam, some more fruit and some more cream; and forsupper they ordered crabs--two crabs to be sent up dressed, from thefishmonger's, also a lobster, and also a large plate of prawns. Havingthus wilfully expended money which might have kept the rectory on itsordinary _regime_ for weeks, they returned home in the best of spirits.
'Tis a little sad to relate that even mice, in their moments of triumphover their legendary foe--the domestic cat--may sometimes overdo things.For two of these little mice felt decidedly ill that night from thedireful effects of overeating. Nina spent that night, which she hadfelt would be of such triumph, rolling from side to side in bed andcrying out with pain, and Josephine had the most appalling succession ofnightmares. But Fanchon was more moderate in her eating and, therefore,did not suffer. She had her work cut out for her; and that evening, atthe appointed hour--regardless of Nina's cries and Josephine'sfrightened exclamations in her sleep--she went off to interview hergoverness in her bedroom.
Brenda was waiting for her, and was quite ready. She had beenfrightened, terribly frightened, in the morning, but she was alarmed nolonger. She had been given time to think, to consider, to form herplans. The discovery which those tiresome children had made wasaltogether most unpleasant. Had it been made by older people, it wouldalmost have been dangerous. But Brenda felt that she could manage thechildren. She must sacrifice something, it is true, but she need notsacrifice everything.
The girls had never been trained in high principles. They had beenbrought up anyhow. The rector was not a specially admirable man. It istrue, he lived according to his lights, but these did not carry him far.His children were motherless, and it did not occur to him to suspectthe girl into whose care he placed them. He was devoted to his poorerparishioners, and was kindness itself to them, denying himself manythings for their benefit. But it was his object in life to do what hecould for his orphans, and he thought he had done so when he put such apretty, charming girl as Bre
As to the children's education, he expected them to go to Sunday school;but as their teacher there was no other than Brenda herself, it cannotbe said that they gained much by this special instruction.
Brenda looked very pretty when she taught her class. Most of the timeshe told them good