CHAPTER V
REAL TROUBLE
Betty washes her face, brushes her hair, and runs downstairs; newcourage thrilling her heart.
"Yes, now, indeed, I will try what love can do! Now I really will keepmy temper whatever happens; now love shall speak for me howeveraggravating things may be!"
She feels so sure of herself; nevertheless, she has hardly beendownstairs half a minute before she nearly slips into her old habits ofirritation again.
An ominous rumbling in the direction of the kitchen chimney announcesthat the sweep is still at work. The children's dinner-hour has nearlyarrived, there is no dinner ready, and the sitting-room fire has noteven been lighted.
"What _was_ the use of telling me to go away and rest, and thenforgetting all about the children's dinner in this way? It's too bad!I'd much rather have been without the rest altogether than be worriedlike this, and I shall just go and tell mother so--no, I won't."
Betty stops short. Where are all the good resolutions she made not fiveminutes ago? Where is the Love she was to listen to, and learn from?
"Mother has forgotten the dinner because she is doing all the horrid,dirty work of having the sweep herself, that I might rest. I won't sayanything; no, I _won't_. I'll just run out and buy some fish, and cookit myself, without saying a word."
She lights the fire, buys the fish, prepares and cooks it in her swift,methodical fashion, and has dinner quite ready just as Bob and theyounger children troop in from school, and Lucy returns from hermusic-lesson.
"Dinner ready?" cries Bob roughly, flinging his cap down on a chair.
"Bob, how dare you do that? Hang your cap up in the hall, directly."
"Oh, bother; I shall want it again in half a minute. Where's mother?"
A wave of indignation sweeps over Betty at his careless answer.
"Not one scrap of dinner shall you have, Bob, until your cap is hangingup in its proper place; take it out at once!"
"Shan't; where's mother? I want my dinner. I don't want any of yournagging."
Nagging--how Betty hates the word! Bob knows her dislike of it wellenough, and always uses it when he means to be especially aggravating.He does so now, fully expecting her to begin scolding violently.
But somehow her very dislike of the word reminds her of Grannie'sletter, with its warning about troubles and trials. Is she nagging? hasshe failed already? Yet how rude Bob is--how wrong!
No, she _will_ conquer; and she answers quite gently.
"Bob, how can you expect the younger ones to behave properly if you setthem a bad example? They all watch you," and she goes out to call hermother to dinner.
The kitchen is in a truly dreadful state; table, chairs, and saucepans,all heaped together; a liberal sprinkling of soot over everything;mother, with a great smudge of soot across her face, Clara as grimy as asweep herself.
"Dinner? Why, I declare I forgot all about it! Can I come? Bless thechild, of course not. Just look at the state that careless man has lefteverything in; it's disgraceful."
"But, mother, dinner's all ready, and----"
"Oh, that's all right; help the children, and I'll come when I can."
Betty's feelings are all up in arms again. She has cooked the dinnerherself, and mother won't even take the trouble to come and eat it--herbirthday dinner, too! Again her indignation almost masters her.
"You must come, mother. Bob's horridly cross."
"Poor boy. Something has upset him at school, I expect. He's made towork much too hard over those lessons. Now, Clara, I've told you overand over again that I won't have the table scrubbed before the floor'sswept. Take that pail away at once, and fetch the soft broom!"
Betty sees that further interference will be equally hopeless, and goesupstairs, the spirit of rebellion surging in her heart.
"So unnecessary, all this fuss and muddle; what possible good can 'Love'do to all this sort of thing?"
Yet Love has already won one small victory for her. Bob would not havehung up his cap had she scolded for an hour. But she had answered hislast unkind remark gently, and when she returns to the sitting-room thecap is gone.
Nevertheless, as the day wears on, Betty feels more and more despondent.
"I don't see how things could be worse," she thinks, "and I can't seehow I can ever make them any better."
The younger children are in bed now, and mother is trying to wash thesoot from her hands and face in her own room.
"Father will be late to-night; he will want his supper directly he comeshome. Of course, it will be left to me to get it. I wonder what Lucyfinds to do so perpetually in her own room? I've a good mind to tell herpretty plainly what I think of her selfish, unsociable ways, alwaysgoing away by herself, and leaving me to attend to everything," andBetty sighs wearily, and, seating herself on the little sofa, begins tosort over the heap of unmended stockings.
The next moment she is startled by a loud double knock at the streetdoor. She jumps to her feet and stands listening. What can it be?
Ah, now Clara is coming upstairs. She is always so slow.
What is that? Clara screaming? Betty flies down the passage.
"Oh, Oh, Oh!" shrieks Clara. "The master's killed, and they've broughthim home in a cab!"
"Killed? No, no, miss; don't be frightened. It's only a bad accident,"says the cabman, reassuringly, as he catches sight of Betty's whiteface.
"A bad accident! Father? Oh, what is it?" gasps Betty.
"Smashed his knee-cap, miss."
"Oh, is that all?" cries Betty.
"All! Why, miss, that is the worst kind of accident. Like as not, he'llnever put foot to ground again; he'd better by far have broken both hislegs. Is there anyone in the house to help me get him in?"
For a minute Betty's head seems to whirl round, and she cannot think.But with a great effort she steadies herself.
"Bob, Bob!" she calls.
Bob has come up, and is standing staring into the darkness beside her,Lucy's frightened face just behind him.
"Bob, run in next door, and ask Mr. Baker to come as quickly as ever hecan; we must have help. Father can't move. Lucy, go and tell mother."
Bob darts off, and Betty goes down to the cab door.
Father is lying back in the cab all huddled together; one leg heldstiffly before him.
"Is that my Betty?" he says feebly. "Don't be frightened, dear lass, Ishall be right enough presently." But the dreadful look of pain on hisface turns her quite sick.
Mr. Baker comes, and father is got into the house; how, Betty neverknows. Her heart aches to hear the deep groan that breaks from him whenthey lift him to the sofa.
It is father who remembers the cabman, and bids Betty take the pursefrom his pocket, and pay the man. As she gently feels for it, her handencounters an odd stocking from the unmended pile on which father islying, and the thought darts through her mind, "Oh, to think I feltthings like _that_ to be a trouble this morning!"
Bob is off again to fetch the doctor. Mother is in the room now,weeping, and wringing her hands helplessly. Lucy stands trembling withterror, and perfectly useless. Only Betty seems to know what to do.
Betty really loves her father, and her quick brain and skilful fingersare active in his service. Her love has made her forget herselfentirely--for a time.
It is her hands that arrange a pillow under the injured knee supportingit in such a manner that the pain is greatly lessened. It is she whoopens the window to give him air, and brings a cup of hot milk torelieve his exhaustion. There is no thinking of herself just now, allher own little troubles are quite forgotten. Is there nothing she can doto make her father's pain easier? That one thought fills her heart.
The doctor! Betty draws back, breathless with anxiety. Will father groanagain when the doctor touches him?
"Oh, dear Lord, do make the pain better!" she murmurs, with pale lips.It is the first time she has really prayed from her heart of hearts foranyone save herself.
"I was hurrying along, and slipped upon a banana
skin, falling with acrash to the pavement, and striking my knee smartly against the edge ofthe curb-stone," she hears father explain to the doctor.
"Ah, 'more haste less speed' this time, with a vengeance, Mr. Langdale.It's a pity you weren't more careful."
"It's my girl's birthday, and I had only just remembered it," murmursfather faintly. Oh, how poor Betty's conscience pricks her as she hearsthe words!
"Hem! bad job; bad job. A pair of sharp scissors, my dear," and thedoctor turns to Betty, who flies to get them.
The doctor cuts away the clothing from the injured knee, and after avery brief examination declares that his patient must be taken to thehospital.
"I will send an ambulance for you immediately, Mr. Langdale. There is nohelp for it, I am afraid," he says, and takes his leave.
There is another dreadful interval of waiting. Mother continues to soband rock herself to and fro. Bob takes up his stand by the window, onthe look-out for the ambulance. He is truly sorry for father, yet,boy-like, feels all the painful importance of the position.
But Betty holds her father's hand, with eyes brimful of pitying love.
"Father, father," she whispers, "if I could only help you; if I couldonly bear some of the pain for you."
A faint smile flickers into his face, and the set features relax alittle.
A pillow under the injured knee.]
"I fear you will have to bear your share, my lass. The pain in my kneeis nothing to having to leave you all to shift for yourselves. You mustsee Mr. Duncan, the landlord of the houses I collect rents for, thefirst thing to-morrow, and take him the rent-books. You'll find them allin my bag, and the money I've collected this week, too. I haven't got itall yet. Perhaps he'll do something for your mother while I'm laid by; Idon't know. Oh, Betty, my girl, I must leave so much in your hands. Doall you can for your mother. Try your best to keep the home together."
"Father, I'll try so hard. I'll do everything I can. I'll----"
"Here's the ambulance, and there's a nurse and two men getting out,"announces Bob from the window.
Mrs. Langdale's sobs rise into screams, but Betty scarcely hears her;just now she has eyes and ears for her father alone.
Skilful hands carry him to the ambulance, and this time no groan reachesBetty's straining ears, as she follows the party.
"Go to your mother! She needs you, and I am in good hands. God blessyou, dear child! God be with you and help you!"
Betty's Battles: An Everyday Story Page 6
