by L. T. Meade
outside, and a lot of it had gotinto the kitchen, and the little stove in the farther corner did nothalf warm it, and Hannah had a cold. That was certain, for she wore herplaid shawl. Her plaid shawl had been left to her by her grandmother,and she never put it on except when she was afflicted with a cold. Shethen wore it crossed on her chest and tied behind. She did not like tobe remarked on when she wore that shawl, and the boys and I respectedher on these occasions, and helped her as much as we could, and had veryplain things for dinner.
So now, when I saw the shawl, and observed how red Hannah's nose was andhow watery her eyes were, I said, "Oh dear, dear! I suppose I oughtn'tto come complaining."
"I wish to goodness you'd keep up in your own part of the house--that Ido," said Hannah. "This fog makes one choke, and it's so dismal anddark, and one can't get any light from these bits of candles. Imisdoubt me if you'll get much dinner to-day, Miss Rachel. But I don'tsuppose you children will mind."
"I tell you what," I said; "I do wish you'd let me cook the dinner. Ican, and I'd love to."
"You cook the dinner!" said Hannah in disdain. "And a pretty sort ofmess you'd have for the Professor if you gave him his food."
"Well, at any rate, Hannah, you can't say that you are the only one whocan cook. Think of Mr Von Marlo."
"Don't bother me by mentioning that gawky creature."
"I don't think he's gawky at all," I said.
"But I say he is! Now then, we won't discuss it. What I want to knowis, why have you come bothering down, and why have you took it into yourhead that the Professor is ill? Bless him! he ain't ill; his appetite'stoo hearty."
"He does eat well," I admitted. "But what I wanted to tell you isthis--he has taken to staring at me."
Hannah stopped in her occupation, threw her hands to her sides, and thentaking up a lighted candle which stood on a table near, she brought itclose to me and looked hard into my face. She made a rapid inspection.
"You ain't got any spots on you, or anything of that sort," she said.
"Oh, I hope not, Hannah!" I said. "That would be a terriblyuninteresting way of explaining why father stares at me. I am sure Ihaven't," I continued, rubbing my hands over my face, which felt quitesmooth.
"Then I don't see why he do it," said Hannah, "for you ain't anything tolook at."
"I know that," I replied humbly; "but that makes it all the morewonderful, for he does stare."
"Then I can't tell you why; but it's no proof that he's ill, for hisappetite's that hearty. I've ordered half a pound more rump-steak thanusual for his supper to-night. I'm sure I'm pleased he can eat it. Asto you children, you must do with a mutton bone and potatoes, for moreyou won't get."
"Very well, Hannah," I said, and I sadly left the kitchen.
I traversed the dark passages outside, and found the long flight ofstairs which led up to the ground-floor; and then I went into the big,big parlour, and sat close to the fire, and thought and thought.
It was dull at home--yes, it was dull. It would be nearly two hoursbefore the boys came home and before father returned. I had finishedall my lessons, and had no new story-book to read. The cracked pianowas not particularly pleasant to play on, and I was not particularlymusical. I could scarcely see through the fog, and it was too early tolight the gas, but I made up my mind that if the fog did not lighten abit in the next half-hour I would put the gas on and get the story-bookwhich I had read least often and begin it over again. Oh dear! I didwish there was some sort of mystery or some sort of adventure about tohappen. Even if Mr Von Marlo came in it would be better than nothing,but I dared not ask him, although I wanted to.
I had been to tea with Agnes and Rita Swan, but it had been quite a dullaffair, and I had not found on closer acquaintance that those girls werespecially attractive to me. They were silly sort of girls; quiteamiable, I am sure, but it seemed such utter nonsense that they at theirage should talk about boys, and be so interested in a boys' school, andso anxious to get me to bring Alex and Charley, and even poor, uglySquibs and Mr Von Marlo, to tea. I said that I could not possibly doit, and then they took offence and became suddenly cool, and my visit tothem ended in a decided huff. The last two or three days at school theyhad scarcely noticed me, and I had become friends instead with AugustaMoore, who was more to my taste, although she was a very plain girl andlived in a very plain way.
Yes, there was nothing at all specially interesting to think about.School was school, and there was no stimulation in the life; andalthough our house was such a big one, such a barrack of a place, it wasbitterly cold in winter; and we were poor, for father did not get a verylarge income, although he worked so hard. He was also somewhat of asaving turn of mind, and he told me once that he was putting by money inorder to help the boys to go to one of the 'varsities by-and-by. He wasdetermined that they should be scholars and gentlemen; and of course Ithought this a very praiseworthy ambition of his, and offered to dowithout a new summer dress. He did not even thank me; he said that hethought I could do quite well with my present clothes for some time tocome, and after that I felt my sacrifice had fallen somewhat flat.
But now to-day, just in the midst of my dismal meditations, there came asmart ring at the hall door bell. There were all sorts of ways ofpulling that bell; it was not an electric bell, but it had a goodringing sound which none of those detestable new bells ever make. Itpealed through the half-empty house as though the person outside wereimpatient. I started and stood irresolute. Would Hannah troubleherself to attend to it? Hannah was dreadfully rude about the halldoor. She often left people standing there three or four minutes, andon a bitterly cold day like this it was not pleasant to be in such anexposed spot. So I waited on tiptoe, and at the first sound of thesecond ring I went into the hall, deliberately crossed it, and openedthe hall door.
A lady was standing without. She looked me all over, began to saysomething, then changed her mind and stepped into the house, and heldout her hand.
"Why, of course," she said, "you are Rachel Grant."
"Yes, I am," I replied.
"I have come to see you. Will you take me somewhere where I can have achat with you?"
"But what is your name, please?" I could not help saying.
"My name is Miss Grace Donnithorne. The Professor knows all about me,and will explain about me presently; but I have just come to have alittle chat with you. May I come in?"
"You may, of course, Miss Donnithorne," I said. I was secretlydelighted to see her; I liked her appearance. She was a fat sort ofperson, not at all scraggy or thin as poor Hannah was. She was notyoung; indeed, to me she looked old, although I dare say father wouldhave thought her comparatively juvenile. But that sort of thing--thequestion of age, I mean--depends altogether on your point of view. Ithought Hannah a woman almost dropping into the grave, but father spokeof her as an active body in the prime of life. So, as I did not feelcapable of forming any correct judgment with regard to Miss GraceDonnithorne's age, I asked her to seat herself, and I poked the fire,and then mounted a chair to turn on the gas. She watched me as Iperformed these little offices; then she said, "You will forgive me,child, but don't you keep any servants in this great house?"
"Oh yes," I replied, "we keep Hannah; but Hannah has a bad cold and israther cross. You would like some tea, wouldn't you, Miss Donnithorne?"
"I should prefer a cup of tea at this moment to almost anything in theworld," said Miss Donnithorne. "It's this awful fog, you know; it getsinto one's throat." Here she coughed; then she loosened her furs; thenshe thought better of it and clasped them more tightly round her person;then she drew her chair close to the fire, right on the rug, whichfather rather objected to, and put her feet, which were in goloshes, onthe fender. She held out her hands to the blaze, and said, "It strikesme you haven't much of a servant or much of a fire either. Oh, goodnessme! I have my goloshes on and they'll melt. Take them off for me,child, and be quick about it."
I obeyed. I had begun by being rather afraid
of Miss Donnithorne, butby the time I had got off her goloshes--and they seemed to stick veryfirmly to her boots--I was laughing; and when I laughed she laughed inunison, and then we were quite on equal terms and got on quitedelightfully.
"What about tea?" she said. "My throat is as raspy as though it were afile."
"I'll see about it," I said, speaking somewhat dubiously.
"Why, where's the difficulty?"
"It's Hannah."
"Does she grudge you your tea?"
"No, I don't think so; but,
