by L. T. Meade
CHAPTER VI.
JO'S ROOM.
It was well for Maggie that Ralph was a very different boy when with hismother and when without her. When the children arrived in London and foundthemselves in Mrs. Grenville's pretty bright house in Bayswater, Ralph flewto the sweet-looking young mother who came up to meet them, clasped hisarms round her neck, laid his head on her shoulder, and instantly asoftened and sweet expression came over his dark and somewhat hard littleface. Mrs. Grenville was very much like her brother, so that preventedMaggie being shy with her. She also petted the little girl a great deal,and, as a matter of course, took more notice of her than of Ralph. Mrs.Grenville also spoke about the Zoo and Madame Tussaud's, but she contrivedto make these two places of entertainment sound quite delightful to herlittle visitor. Instead of dwelling on their horrors she spoke of theirmanifold and varied charms, until Maggie's eyes sparkled, and she said inher quick, excitable way:
"I'll go there with you, Aunt Violet; I'd like to go to both of thoseplaces with you."
Aunt Violet read between the lines here, and gave Ralph a quick littleglance which he pretended not to see.
The next morning Mrs. Grenville asked Miss Grey to allow Maggie to have aholiday.
"To-morrow she will begin her lessons regularly," continued the lady. "Ofcourse by this time such a tall girl can read and write nicely, and I shalllike to inclose a little letter from her to her mother; but to-day thechildren and I mean to be very busy together. Ralph, as you are older, andas you know most about London, you shall choose what our amusement shallbe."
Maggie felt herself turning first red and then white when Mrs. Grenvillespoke of her reading and writing accomplishments, but Miss Grey wasmerciful and made no comment, and as Ralph had not yet been made acquaintedwith the poor little princess' profound ignorance, she trusted that hersecret was safe.
"Mother," here eagerly burst in Ralph, "of course the very first thing wemust do is to go and see Jo. Shall I go round to see Jo this morning,mother, and may I take Maggie with me? I think it would do Maggie lots ofgood to see a girl like Jo."
"Jo would do any one good," responded Mrs. Grenville. "It is a kindthought, Ralph, and you may carry it out. If you and Maggie like to runupstairs and get ready now, I will send Waters round with you, and I willcall for you myself at Philmer's Buildings at twelve o'clock. After all, Ishould like to take Maggie myself to the Zoo--I want her to see the monkeysand the birds, and she shall have a ride on one of the elephants if shelikes. As to the lions, dear," continued Mrs. Grenville, looking kindly atthe little girl, "you shall not see them feed unless you like."
"I don't mind seeing them feed if you are with me," whispered back Maggie;but just then Ralph called to her imperiously, and she had to hurry out ofthe room.
"Aren't you glad that you are going at last to see my dear little Jo?"exclaimed the boy. "Now do hurry, Mag; get yourself up nice and smart, forJo does so admire pretty things."
Maggie made no response, but went slowly into her little bedroom.
In her heart of hearts she was becoming intensely jealous of this wonderfulJo. She was putting her in the same category with those unpleasant littlegirls who liked needlework, and were exceedingly proper and good, andbelonged to that tiresome class of little models of whom nurse was so fondof speaking. Maggie had borne patiently all Ralph's rhapsodies over thisperfect little Jo, but quite a pang went through her heart when she heardMrs. Grenville also praise her.
"I don't want to go," she said as Miss Grey helped her to put on her boots,and took out her neat little jacket and pretty shady hat from theirdrawers.
"Not want to go?" said the governess. "Oh, surely you will like the walkwith Ralph this lovely morning, Maggie?"
"No, I won't," said Maggie. "I don't want to see Jo; I'm sure she's ahorrid good little girl; she's like nurse's Sunday go-to-meeting girls, andI never could bear them."
Miss Grey could not help smiling slightly at Maggie's eager words.
"I remember," she said after a pause as she helped to put the little girl'ssash straight, "when I was a child about your age, Maggie, I often amusedmyself making up pictures of people before I had seen them. I generallyfound that the pictures were wrong, and that the people were not at alllike what I had fancied them to be."
Maggie pondered over this statement; then she said solemnly:
"But I know about Jo--I'm quite sure that my picture of Jo isn't wrong. Shewears a white pinafore, and there are no spots on it, and her hair is soshiny--I 'spect there is vaseline on her hair--and her nails are neat, andher shoes are always buttoned, and--and--and--she's a horrid good littlegirl--and I don't like her--and I never will like her."
"Maggie! Maggie!" shouted Ralph from below, and Maggie, with a nod at MissGrey, and the parting words, "I know all about her," rushed out of theroom, danced down the stairs, and holding her cousin's hand, andaccompanied by the sedate Waters, set out on their morning walk.
It was Maggie's first walk in London, and the children and maid soon foundthemselves crossing Hyde Park, coming out at one of the gates at theopposite side from Mrs. Grenville's pretty house, and then entering acrowded thoroughfare. Here Waters stepped resolutely between the littlepair, took a hand of each, and hurried them along. Ralph carried a smallclosed basket in his hand, and Maggie wondered what it contained, and whyRalph looked so grave and thoughtful, and why he so often questioned Watersas to the contents of a square box which she also carried.
"You took great care of that box while I was away, Waters?"
"Well, yes, Master Ralph; it always stood on the mantelpiece in mymistress' room, and I dusted it myself most regularly."
"And do you really think it's getting heavy, Waters?"
"Well, sir, you were away exactly two nights and two days, and that means,by the allowance of one penny a day given to you, two pennies more in themoney-box. It's two pennies heavier than it was, sir, when you left us, andthat's all."
Ralph sighed profoundly.
"Time goes very slowly," he said. "How I wish I had more money, and thatwhen I had it I didn't spend it so fast. Well, perhaps Jo has managed aboutthe tambourine after all. If there is a good manager, Jo is one. Oh, herewe are at last!"
The children and Waters had turned into a shabby-looking street, and werenow standing before a block of buildings which looked new and tolerablyclean. Unlike any ordinary house Maggie had ever seen, this one appearedto possess no hall door, but was entered at once by a flight of stonestairs. The children and the servant began to ascend the stairs, and Maggiewondered how many they would have to go up before they reached the roomswhere the little girl in the spotless pinafore with the white hands and thesmoothly vaselined hair resided. Maggie was rather puzzled and disconcertedby the bare look of the stone stairs, and also by the somewhat anxious andgrave expression on Ralph's face. She was unacquainted with that kind oflook, and it puzzled her, and she began dimly to wonder if Miss Grey wasright, and her picture of Jo was untrue.
At last they stopped at a door, which was shut, and which contained somewriting in large black letters on its yellow paint. Maggie could not read,but Ralph pointed to the letters, and said joyfully:
"Here we are at last!"
The words on the door where these: "Mrs. Aylmer, Laundress and Charwoman,"but Maggie, of course, was not enlightened by what she could notunderstand.
Waters knocked at the door; a quick, eager little voice said, "Come in."There was the pattering of some small feet, the door was flung wide open,and Maggie, Ralph, and Waters found themselves inside Jo's room.
That was the first impression the room gave; it seemed to belong to Jo;Jo's spirit seemed to pervade it all over. Mrs. Aylmer, laundress andcharwoman, might own the room and pay the rent for it, but that made nodifference--it was Jo's.
Who was Jo? Maggie asked herself this question; then she turned red; thenshe felt her lips trembling; then she became silent, absorbed, fascinated.The picture she had conjured up faded never to return, and the real Jo tookits place.
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Jo was the most beautiful little girl Maggie had ever seen--she had fluffy,shining, tangled hair; her pale face was not thin, but round and smooth;each little feature was delicate and chiseled; the lips were littlerosebuds; the eyes had that serene light which you never see except in thefaces of those children who have been taught patience through suffering. Jowas a sadly crippled little girl lying on a low bed. Maggie, of course, hadseen poor children in the village at home; but those children had not beenill; they were rosy and hearty and strong. This child looked fragile, andyet there was nothing absolutely weak about her. At the moment when Ralphand Maggie entered Jo was keeping school; two twin boys were standing byher bedside, and listening eagerly to her instructions.
"No, no, Bob," she was saying, "you mustn't do it that way; you must do itmore carefully, Bob, and slower. Now, shall we begin again?"
Bob tried to drone something in a monotonous sing-song, but just then thevisitors' faces appeared, and all semblance of school vanished on the spot.Ralph poured out a whole string of remarks. The contents of the money-boxwere emptied on Jo's bed, and the exciting question of Susy's tambourinecame under earnest discussion. If Susy had a proper tambourine she coulduse her rather sweet voice to advantage, and earn money by singing anddancing in the streets. Susy was ten years old--a thick-set little girlwith none of Jo's transparent beauty. Sixpence had been already collectedfor the coveted musical instrument; Ralph's box contained eightpence, but,alas! the tambourine on which Susy had set her heart could not be obtainedfor a smaller sum than half a crown.
"They are not worth nothing for less than that," she exclaimed; "they makesno sound, and when you sings or dances with them, your voice don't seem tocarry nohow. No, I'd a sight rayther wait and have a good one. Them cheap'uns cracks, too, when they gets wet. Here's sixpence and here'seightpence; that makes one shilling and two pennies. Oh! but it do seem asif it were a long way off afore we see our way to 'arf a crown."
Here Susy, whose face had been radiant, became suddenly depressed, andMaggie felt a lump in her throat, and an earnest, almost passionate, wishto get hold of her father's purse-strings.
"Now come and talk to Jo," said Ralph, drawing his little cousin forward."We need not say any more about the tambourine to-day; I'm saving up all mymoney; I earn a penny every day that I'm good, and I'll give my penny toSusy for the present, so she'll really have the half-crown by and by. Now,Jo, this is my Cousin Maggie; I've told her about you. She lives down inthe country; she doesn't know much, but then that's not to be wondered at.She was very naughty and careless too about my rabbits; she has asked me toforgive her, and of course I haven't said much; it wouldn't be at all manlyto scold a girl; but you are really the one to forgive her, Jo, for therabbits were yours before they were mine."
"What, Bianco and Lily?" answered Jo, the pink color coming into her littleface. "Oh, missie, wasn't they beautiful and white?"
"NOW, JO, THIS IS MY COUSIN MAGGIE."--Page 74.]
"Yes, and they're lost," said Maggie; "'twas I did it. I opened the door oftheir little house, and they ran out, and went into a wood, and none of uscould find them since. Ralph said it was you gave them to him, and hedoesn't really and truly forgive me, though he pretends he does. I wassorry, but I won't go on being sorry if he doesn't really and truly forgiveme."
To this rather defiant little speech of Maggie's Jo made a very eagerreply. She looked into the pretty little country lady's face, rightstraight up into her eyes, and then she said ecstatically:
"Oh, ain't I happy to think as my beautiful darling white Bianco and Lilyhas got safe away into a real country wood! Oh, missie, are there realtrees there, and grass? and I hopes, oh, I hopes there's a little stream."
"Yes, there is," said Maggie, "a sweet little stream, and it tinkles awayall day and all night, and of course there are trees, and there's grass.It's just like any other country wood."
"I'm so glad," said Jo; "I can picter it. In course I has never seen it,but I can picter it. Trees, grass, and the little stream a-tinkling, andthe white bunnies ever and ever so happy. Yes, missie, thank you, missie;it's real beautiful, and when I shuts my eyes I can see it all."
Jo had said nothing about forgiving Maggie; on the contrary, she seemed tothink her careless deed something rather heroic, Ralph raised his darkbrows, fidgeted a little, and began to look at his cousin with a newrespect. At this moment Mrs. Grenville's footman came up to say that thecarriage was waiting for the children; so Maggie's first visit to Jo wasover.
