by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER VIII
THE GILROYS.
The Gilroys lived in a small house in West Kensington. The house wasfull to overflowing. There were a great many children, ranging fromLeslie the eldest girl, aged nineteen, to little Dan, aged two. Mrs.Gilroy was one of the busiest women in London. She had a small income,not exceeding three hundred a year, and six children to maintain. Whenher husband died, a month before little Dan's birth, the mother made upher mind not to skimp the children's education, not to starve them on amere pittance, but to add to her income by her own exertions. She wasvery clever and strong both in mind and body. All her children loved herpassionately.
Mr. Gilroy, during his lifetime, had been sub-editor on a large Londondaily, and after his death Mrs. Gilroy got a post on the staff. She alsodid a good deal of other journalistic work, and occasionally wroteup-to-date articles in the magazines. Thus she added considerably to herincome, and the children never wanted for anything.
The house was a model of neatness and order, although there was only onesmall servant; but then each child had been trained thoroughly, and eachchild did his or her appointed task without a murmur. The faces of allthe young Gilroys were bright, all the pairs of eyes were frank andhappy; but the mother had to work very hard. Often and often, when allthe children were in bed, she sat up or went round from one editor'soffice to another supplying the necessary items which would appear thenext morning in the papers. She enjoyed her work and never complained;and Llewellyn and Leslie, the eldest boy and girl, sympathized heart andsoul with her.
On the very day when Belle Acheson had visited the Chetwynds in theirfashionable house in Belgravia, Mrs. Gilroy, coming in later than usual,found Llewellyn, a handsome lad of sixteen years of age, crouching overthe fire in the little parlor, with his head in his hands.
"What is wrong, Lew?" said the mother.
"Nothing," he answered. "I have only been thinking."
"But what about, my boy?"
Mrs. Gilroy seldom petted her children, she seldom used loving words tothem; but then her touch was a caress. She laid her hand now upon thelad's shoulder; he looked up into her kindly firm face; and the shadowfell from his own.
"It's just nothing," he cried. "I ought to be ashamed of myself. Don'task me at the present moment, mother. I have a fit of the blues, that'sall."
"Well, and I have a fit of the cheerfuls," said Mrs. Gilroy.
"What do you mean, mother?" Llewellyn was all life and spirits in amoment. "Has anything good happened; have you got another post? Are youto be made sub-editor on one of the great dailies; that, you know, isyour ambition, your great passionate ambition, little mother."
"Nothing of the kind at present, Lew, dear. I am just where I alwayswas. I have plenty of work, and I am paid fairly well; but I have goodnews all the same. I will tell you afterwards. It has to do with Leslie.It will be the finest thing in all the world for her, simply the makingof her."
Llewellyn's face once more looked downcast. He did not want his motherto observe it, however, and he went slowly to the door.
"I had better let Kitty and Mabel know that you are in," he said.
He went into the little hall and shouted his sisters' names. The nextmoment two trim, neatly-dressed little girls, with long hair hangingdown their shoulders, in dark-blue frocks and white pinafores, cametripping in.
"Mother's come," said Llewellyn; "she wants tea. Sound the gong when itis ready."
He bounded up the narrow stairs three at a time to his own special denat the top of the house. There, big, handsome, overgrown boy that hewas, he shed some tears. He was ashamed of his tears; they scalded rightdown into his heart.
"I wish I didn't feel it so much," he said to himself. "I just had awild hope for a moment, when mother spoke about good news, that it hadsomething to do with me. But it's only Leslie. Well, dear old girl, whyshouldn't it be about her? What a brute I am to grudge it to her. She ismother's right hand, and about the very best girl in the world. There, Ishall hate myself if I give way another moment. I'll just tell motherright out, and put an end to the thing. She'll be a bit surprised, but Iguess she'll be only too glad to consent. It's good-by to daydreams,that's all; but a fellow can't think of them when his mother is in thequestion."
Meanwhile the girls downstairs were quickly preparing the tea. Kittywent to the kitchen to fetch the tray with the cups and saucers; Mabellaid the white cloth, which was made of the finest damask, on the centertable. Kitty then knelt down before the fire to make an apparentlyunlimited supply of buttered toast; Mabel put the right amount of teainto the old teapot. There were many relics of bygone respectability,nay, of bygone wealth, in the Gilroys' humble house. The silver teapotwas one--it was real silver, not electroplate. It was very thin and of anantique shape, and the children were often heard to declare that nothingwould induce them to have their tea made in anything else. The cups andsaucers, too, were of rare old china and of a quaint pattern. They wereneither cracked nor broken, because the girls themselves washed them andlooked after them, and put them away in the little pantry.
The small maid of all work, Elfreda, was never allowed to go near thepantry. She only did the rough work under severe superintendence fromKitty; but the house was perfectly organized, and no one felt undulyfatigued.
The tea, when it was ready, consisted of fresh eggs, honey in the comb,hot cakes which Mabel had been secretly watching for the last half-hour,a pile of buttered toast, bread both brown and white, delicious countrybutter, tea, and even cream.
When everything was in order, Mabel sounded the gong, and Llewellyn camedown.
He had scarcely taken his place at the table before there was the clickof a latchkey in the hall door, and light steps, the steps of a younggirl, were heard in the passage outside.
"There's Leslie," said Mrs. Gilroy. She was seated at the head of hertable pouring out tea. She paused now, and a look of considerableexpectancy filled her eyes. Llewellyn watched her; the others, engagedin their own chatter, took no special notice.
"Leslie, late as usual," said Mabel. Just at that moment Leslie poked inher head.
"Oh, do just keep a nice hot cup of tea for me," she called out. "I amstarving. There has been such a cold wind blowing, and I had to walkhalf the way, as every omnibus was full. I'll just run upstairs to tidyup. Please keep a right good tea for me; I'll trust you, Mabel."
"Yes, you may," shouted out Mabel. "I am keeping back the crispest ofthe hot cakes, and there is buttered toast in a covered dish by thefire."
Leslie's steps were heard running quickly upstairs, and a minute or twolater she entered the room. She was a tall girl, with quantities ofgolden-brown hair, large brown eyes, a complexion of cream and roses,and straight regular features. It needed but a glance to show that shewas a beautiful girl, with beauty above the average; but it was not onlythe regularity of her features and the clearness of her complexion whichmade Leslie's face so specially attractive. It was the marked andwonderful intelligence on her open brow, the speaking, thoughtfulexpression in her eyes, the firm, proud outline of her beautiful lips.
Mrs. Gilroy just glanced up when her eldest daughter came into the room.That one glance showed that the girl was the mother's special idol; thatshe loved her with a worship which was almost idolatry, that she was ashade more proud of her and dreamt more daydreams about her than aboutany of the others.
Llewellyn, who could read his mother like a book, who loved herpassionately, saw all these thoughts now in her eyes. He suppressed asigh, and attacked the loaf with vigor.
"Come, Leslie," said her mother, "here is your place by me as usual.Now, have a good tea, my darling, for we have much to talk ofafterwards. I want all of you children to be present too; you must allhear my good news."
"Good news, mother. That's cheering," said Leslie. "I have had such across day."
"Cross--what do you mean?" said Kitty. "Do tell us, Leslie, what can havehappened. Didn't you get on with your pupils?"
"No, they were contrary; they woul
d play and would not learn. I didn'tseem to have any control over them. Mother, dear, I am sick ofteaching!"
"What rot!" cried Llewellyn. "One must go on with a thing whether one issick or not."
"Oh, I know, Lew, dear old boy, and I really don't mean to grumble; onlyI felt cross and I am owning to it. I don't feel cross now," added thegirl.
She helped herself to brown bread and butter. Kitty put a quantity ofhoney on her plate. Tea came to an end presently, and then the childrenin orderly file began to remove the tea-things.
In less than a quarter of an hour the little parlor--they always sat inthe parlor in the evenings--was looking as snug and comfortable as a roomcould look. The lamp, beautifully trimmed and burning clearly, stood onthe center table, the red curtains were drawn round the windows; a fire,blazing merrily, gave a final touch of cheerfulness to the pleasantroom.
"Now, then, mother, get into your own special chair and tell us thenews," said Leslie.--"Llewellyn, you are not going away, are you?"
"No," said Llewellyn.
"But before you begin, mother, do wait for us," cried Mabel. "Kitty andI must go upstairs to turn down the beds, and then I must see Elfreda inorder to get her to put the fish in soak for to-morrow's breakfast. Shedoes forget things so dreadfully."
"Yes, and I have got to wash the tea-things; it's my turn, I'm sorry tosay," remarked Hester, a somewhat heavy-looking girl, the leastattractive of the family.
"Well, dears, I will wait for you three for exactly twenty minutes,"said Mrs. Gilroy. "Be as quick as possible; bustle away, get the houseinto perfect order, and then you shall come down to hear my good news."
The children ran off.
When the door closed behind them Leslie looked at her mother.
"Must you go out again to-night, mother?" she asked.
"No, my darling, not to-night. To-morrow I shall not be home until verylate. I have to attend two big functions, and must take my copyafterwards to the _Grapho_ and the _Daily Post_."
Llewellyn fidgeted; he stood up and then sat down again. He looked athis mother as if about to speak, and then restrained himself.
"What's the matter, Lew? What are you worrying about?" said his sister.
"It's only the thought of mother doing this beastly grind night afternight," he said. "It drives me half-wild sometimes."
"My dear boy, I enjoy it," said the mother; "and you shall take my placeall in good time. There is an excitement about the life which exactlysuits me. I could never be a drone even if I wished it, Lew--not even toplease you, dear old fellow."
The mother bent forward as she spoke and gave the boy one of her rarecaresses, just a touch on his white forehead. He sat down near her.Another boy would have held out his hand for his mother to clasp, butLlewellyn's long hands hung between his knees. He was bending over thefire, looking into the blaze. The daydreams which he had so often seenin those flames were receding farther and farther away. His face waspale, and the expression of his gray eyes heavy.
But Mrs. Gilroy, too much interested in Leslie at present to notice herson's depression, continued to talk cheerfully. By and by she would seeit all and speak of it, but not just now.
Quite within the appointed time the three girls returned. They took uptheir work, for never for a moment in this family was idleness allowed,and sat down near the lamp.
"Now then, we are ready," said Hester; "but I do wish, before motherbegins, that you would show me, Kitty, how you turn this heel. I know Iam doing it wrong."
"I should think you are, you old goose," said Kitty. "Well, I can't showyou at present. Just take the needles out and unravel a few rows, thenput the needles in again, and I'll be ready to give you a lesson beforebedtime. But, remember, I am going to charge for it. It's a farthing alesson, and the money to go to the Society for the Prevention of Crueltyto Children. Is not that a good idea, mother?" continued Kitty, lookingup.
But Mrs. Gilroy was not listening. She had something important to say,and the mere idle chatter of this happy family passed over her earsunnoticed.
"Leslie," she said laying her hand on her eldest girl's arm, "my newshas to do with you; but, as we have no secrets in our family, I willtell it before the rest of the children."
Leslie looked eager and excited. Even Llewellyn dropped his despondentair and stood up, big and manly, five feet ten, on the hearthrug.
His mother glanced at him, noticed, without really noticing it, themarked look of power on his intellectual face, and then turned to herfavorite child.
"I was in my usual place at the office of the _Grapho_ to-day," shebegan. "I was busily engaged preparing copy for to-morrow's issue when agentleman, an old friend of your father's, a certain Mr. Parker, camein."
"Mr. Parker! A friend of father's! I never heard of him before," saidLeslie.
"He has been in Australia for the last twelve years, but has justreturned home. He sent in his card and begged to see me. As soon as everI saw him I remembered that your dear father had constantly spoken ofhim. Well, he wishes to do something for--for the sake of his oldfriend."
Mrs. Gilroy's voice faltered.
"He is quite a gentleman," she continued, "though a little rough; but acapital good fellow at bottom. He spoke to me most frankly, and finallyended by making me an offer. The offer has to do with you, Leslie."
"With me?" said Leslie.
"Yes, darling. He asked me all about our means. He was not at allprying; he was good and kind and oh! so generous at heart. I hated totell him, and yet I felt obliged to. He was shocked; he thought yourfather would have left us better off."
"He had no right to ask about our father's means," grumbled Llewellyn."No one could have worked harder than our father did."
"No one, truly," echoed Leslie.
"And no one ever led a more upright, exemplary, splendid life," said thewidow. Her voice trembled; she paused for a moment.
Kitty and Mabel laid down their needlework.
"But, all the same," continued the mother, "you must not blame Mr.Parker. He and your father had not met for many years, and in Australiathey lead a different life. When a man is lucky there he is very lucky;and Mr. Parker has been one of the lucky ones. He took shares in somegold-mines, and explained to me that he is now a man of great wealth."
"He must have interrupted your work a good bit," began Llewellyn, thenhe checked himself. His mother glanced at him, took no notice of hisspeech, and continued with her story.
"The result of our interview is this," she said, looking round at herchildren and laying her hand on Leslie's arm. "Leslie is to have achance, a right good chance in life."
"Mother, what do you mean?" said Leslie. She opened her pretty eyeswide, and the color rushed into her face.
"Mr. Parker is a man of peculiar views," said the mother. "He does notwant to help boys, he says; they must stand or fall on their own merits.But for girls he has a peculiar feeling, an unbounded pity. The fact is,poor fellow, he had a wife of his own, and a daughter, and if thedaughter were alive she would be your age, Leslie. I have not theslightest doubt that accounts for his prejudice in favor of girls. Now,my darling, he has offered to pay all your expenses either at Newnham orat that other great college, St. Wode's, Wingfield. He wants you to giveup your present employment immediately, and to go to either of theseplaces at the beginning of term. You are to have every advantage that ispossible. When you have completed your university education he will takefurther steps to insure your commanding an excellent living. The moneyis to be paid direct to me as required, and he has now given me a checkfor fifty pounds to buy the necessary outfit which you will require foryour new life. I have taken the check and have accepted the offer. Thatis my news. It is a great chance for you, Leslie; it is a great chance.You go away from us, I know, my darling, and I shall miss you terribly;but it is a great chance."
"And you have really accepted it, mother?"
"I have. I could not allow you to throw it away. Mr. Parker is such anold friend of your father's that I am willing to
put myself under thissupreme obligation. He has even hinted that by and by he will do greatthings for Kitty and for Mabel."
"And what about poor Hester?" said that individual, dropping herstocking and looking with piteous eyes at her mother.
"You are to be my home-bird, darling." Then Hester rose and knelt by hermother, and put her strong young arms round her waist and kissed her.
"Yes; I for one would never leave you, mammy; and I don't care a pinabout being learned. I want just to be useful, although I am afraid I ama bit of a failure all round. There always is a failure in every family,isn't there, mother; so it's just as well that I should be the one."
"We mean to have no failures in this family," said Mrs. Gilroy. "Now,then, you young ones, it is time for bed; off you go at once. I havemuch to say to Leslie and to Llewellyn by themselves."
