by L. T. Meade
certain cheerfulnessabout it. I put the little trunk at the foot of the bed. I did notknow what would happen. I felt afraid; nevertheless, I was quitedetermined to let Miss Grace Donnithorne--Mrs Grant, as she was now--know how things really stood.
At last the time came for me to make myself look as well as I could tomeet my father and his wife. I put on the blue evening-dress which Ihad outgrown, brushed out my long hair, and went down to the parlour.The parlour certainly looked very smart. Its central table alone wasworth the greatest admiration. There was a white cloth--very whiteindeed--in fact, dazzlingly so; and the crockery (I cannot call it bythe name of china) seemed to me quite amazing. It did not matter thatnone of the glass matched, and that there were plates of various sorts,but what was all-important was the fact that the board groaned withgoodly fare. There was a huge piece of cold roast beef, a salad madeaccording to an old-fashioned recipe of Hannah's, a cake (frosted) inthe centre of the table, some jellies, some fruit, a pair of roastfowls, and a ham. Oh, when before had the old house close to thecollege seen such a feast?
Standing at the head of the table, with his arms folded and his eyesfixed upon the goodly fare, was Alex; and standing at the foot of thetable, in precisely the same attitude, was Charley. They did not movewhen I came in, and I did not speak, but went and stood at one of thesides. Hannah bustled into the room.
"They'll be here in a few minutes, children," she said; "and don'tforget that I'm here to take your parts. Bless you, poor orphans--blessyou!"
Then she disappeared downstairs.
"Oh dear! Oh dear!" I said.
"For goodness' sake," said Alex, moving away from the table, "don'tbegin to snivel, whatever you do, Dumps. She's a mighty silly oldwoman."
"Oh, what a supper!" said Charley.
He gave a sigh of profound satisfaction. After a minute he said,"Whatever sort of a step-mother she is, I am going to eat! I say, whata supper!"
He had scarcely uttered the words before the sound of a cab stoppingoutside the front door was distinctly heard.
"Shall we all go into the hall?" asked Alex.
"I'm not going to stir," I answered.
"Nor I," said Charley. "I can't keep my eyes off the supper. I'mawfully afraid it's a sort of fairy feast, and will vanish if I don'tkeep gazing and gazing at it."
The bell was pulled violently. Hannah came hurrying up the stairs. Shebustled into the hall. Charley went on tiptoe to the door of theparlour. He came back again on tiptoe, with his eyes rounder than ever.
"What do you think?" he said. "Hannah has got a white satin favourpinned upon her dress. Would you believe it? What a turncoat she is!"
"She's not," I answered. "She had to do it. We must be outwardlycivil."
"Yes, yes; that's it," said Alex.
"And for the sake of the supper it's worth while," said Charley.
The hall door was opened. My father's step was heard coming in; thiswas followed by a lighter, much younger step. Then a cheerful voicesaid, "Well, here we are.--And you are Hannah, I think? I have oftenheard of you."
"The hypocrite!" I muttered; but Alex said, "Hush! Remember ourcompact."
"I have often heard of you," said the cheerful voice. "How do you do?"
Hannah's reply was so muttered that it could not be heard in theparlour. Then father said, "Where are the children? Dumps! Alex!Charley! Come along at once!"
We all made a rush to the parlour door. We had to rush or we should nothave moved at all. We went into the hall. I felt at that suprememoment that if I had not known Miss Grace Donnithorne in the past, andhad not really liked her very much, not to say almost loved her, I couldhave borne my present position better. But having already known her,the present position was almost unbearable. Nevertheless, things thatseem unbearable have now and then to be faced in life. My father calledin his cheerful tones, "Well, children, well! here we are back. Here'syour new mother. I trust you will all be as dutiful as she deserves. Iam sure it is very good of her to come and look after such harum-scarumsas you are. Now then, Dumps, you give her a right royal welcome."
"How do you do?" I said.
I held out my hand. The kindest--oh yes, I must say the words--thekindest eyes in the world looked anxiously into mine; the pleasant mouthrelaxed as though it was preparing to smile; then it became grave, butits expression was as sweet as ever.
"How are you, Rachel?" said she who used to be Miss Grace Donnithorne.She bent forward and gave me a light kiss--not the affectionate embraceshe had bestowed upon me once or twice when I was at Hedgerow House.
"Take your mother upstairs, Dumps. Take her and show her her bedroom,"said father. "Come along, you two boys; just come and tell me all thathas been happening at the college. My goodness, what an age it seemssince I went away!"
Father's tone and the mighty sigh of relief he gave did more to composemy nerves than anything else. Miss Grace Donnithorne had not changedhim. I went up the stairs saying to myself, "She is not my father'swife. She is only Miss Grace Donnithorne, a stoutish lady, middle-aged,quite nice and fat and pleasant; she is not father's wife."
All the time these thoughts kept coming and going in my brain; but thelady who followed me did not speak at all. That was quite unlike MissDonnithorne's way.
I opened the door of the big room. The fire had almost burnt itselfout; the room in consequence was cold. There was no gas of any sort inthis huge chamber; two poor, solitary candles had been placed on thehigh mantelshelf, but had not been lighted.
"Dear me!" said the lady--and there was no mistaking the matter-of-factvoice--"but this room is too cold for your father. Come along. Dumps,you and I must see to this at once. Where can we get coals? Oh, thishod is empty. Get some matches quickly, child, and some hot water.Your father must have hot water, and we must have this fire made up.Dear, dear! Dumps, our hands will be full. He is a very precious man,you know, but a handful--a good bit of a handful--more than one childcould possibly manage, and more than one woman can manage, but betweenus, Dumps--"
She took up the poker, and the fire was soon blazing again. Candleswere lit in a trice. Hannah appeared with a great jug of hot water.
"Where would you wish your hot water to be placed, Mrs Grant?" shesaid. Her tone was very precise. There was a red spot on one of hercheeks; the other was deadly pale. But the white satin favour! Whatpossessed her to wear it? It stood out with an aggravating stare on herdark dress.
The new Mrs Grant turned at once.
"Put it here by the wash-hand stand," she said; "and bring some morecoals, please. This fire is not nearly large enough. The room ischilly."
She spoke very cheerfully. Hannah left the room at once. Just at thatmoment there came a knock at the door.
"Father says that supper is ready," said Charley's voice.
"Oh, I haven't spoken to you, Charley," said Mrs Grant.
She went to the door, took his hand, and wrung it.
"Good boy," she said. "You will help me all you can."
I saw him gazing at her very hard; then he went downstairs, almost likea flash. I wondered what he was going to say to Alex.
Meanwhile I stood silent by the fire. Miss Grace Donnithorne, that was,faced me. She had removed her hat and taken off her jacket. She had alittle comb in her pocket; with this she smoothed out her hair. Shewent to the wash-stand and washed her hands. Hannah appeared with thecoals.
"Put a good many on, please, Hannah. I want the room to be quite warm,"said the new mistress.
Hannah obeyed. The late Miss Grace Donnithorne looked round the room.
"Much too large," she said.
"All the rooms are large in this house," I answered.
"Oh, we'll choose a cosier one than this--eh, Dumps?" she said.
"Can't find one in this house," was my response.
"Well, this will do for to-night."
She looked at me. The kindness in her eyes seemed kinder than ever. Itwould have been difficul
t, had she not been my step-mother, to resisther; but being my step-mother, I stood very cold and still, respondingquite civilly when she spoke, but not offering any advances on my part.
She had washed her hands now, and the fire was blazing brightly. Shepoured some hot water into a basin.
"This is for the Professor," she said. "He must warm himself. He isvery cold, dear man! He is a very precious creature, and--"
I wished she would not talk of him like that. I felt a sense ofirritation. Then I looked at her and the irritation vanished.
"The boys are so hungry," I said.
"And so am I," she replied, with a
