A Terrible Tomboy

by Angela Brazil

  CHAPTER XIV

  LILIAN'S HOUSEKEEPING

  'Thou wert working late, thou busy, busy bee! After the fall of the cistus flower, When the primrose-tree blossom was ready to burst, I heard thee last, as I saw thee first; In the silence of the evening hour I heard thee, thou busy, busy bee.'

  Aunt Helen was married in September, with the Rector to read theservice, and Father to give her away, and Lilian and Peggy forbridesmaids, while the Sunday-school children strewed the path from thechurch-door with flowers, and Bobby flung rice and old shoes after thecarriage, and all the village people came to watch, and say how sweetand pretty she looked, and to wish health and happiness to 'Mrs. JohnNeville.'

  Things felt very flat when the excitement was all over and the last ofthe guests had left the Abbey, and the children found themselves wishingthat life could be a perpetual round of bouquets and favours andwedding-cake, not forgetting presents to the bridesmaids, for Lilian andPeggy were the proud possessors of charming gold lockets set withturquoises, with portraits of Aunt Helen inside them, 'the gifts of thebridegroom,' as the local paper described them, while a silver watch andchain consoled Bobby for not taking a more prominent part in theceremony, and made him declare that his new uncle was 'a brick, and nomistake.'

  After so much dissipation, it was quite hard to settle down to plainprose again; but school had already re-opened, and the children hadstolen an extra week of holidays to join in the festivities, so it washigh time they were setting to work once more. It seemed strange tostart off every morning without Lilian, who only went into Warford oncea week now for music-lessons, and Mr. Vaughan had occasional qualms asto the safety of allowing such youthful Jehus to drive about the countryunattended; but the little yellow pony-trap was so well known on theroad that it would have been rather difficult for anything to happen tothe children. People knew the time of their passing, and looked out forthem daily; kindly women would come to cottage doorways to nod andsmile; the inn-keeper at the Halfway Arms set his clock by theirarrival; they had struck up quite a friendship with the postman, twomilkmen, and the driver of a fish-cart, while the old man who brokestones by the roadside always nodded and gave them 'Good-morning,' andfired a facetious remark or two after them, which the children imaginedhe must relieve the monotony of his work by composing during theintervals of their coming and going.

  Left alone, Lilian tried to settle down in dead earnest to battle withher task of housekeeping. It was a heavy burden for such youngshoulders, for in a farmhouse there is always a great deal of extra workto be done. Pigs, poultry, and young animals had to be fed, and the eggsgathered in daily; the dairy claimed constant attention, for the pansmust be scalded and the pails polished bright, and though Joe did themilking and churning, it was Lilian's business to superintend themaking up of the butter, and to weigh each pound with her own hands andprint it with the Abbey stamp.

  Nancy, too, proved somewhat of a trial, for though a hard-working andmost kind-hearted girl, she had not been gifted by Providence witheither brains or a memory, and was capable of making the mostastonishing mistakes, which she invariably justified by declaring shewas sure she had done it so 'in Miss Vaughan's time.'

  'But, Nancy,' said poor, bewildered Lilian, 'I'm sure Aunt Helen nevertold you to rub up the silver with paraffin and brickdust. You'rescratching it horribly. There's a packet of proper pink powder stuff todo it with somewhere.'

  'There's naught like oil and brickdust for putting a polish on metals,'observed Nancy, complacently scouring away at Bobby's christening mug.'It beats all they rubbish that the pedlars brings round in boxes, andtries hard to persuade you to buy, so it do for sure!'

  'I have no doubt about it's being very good for fenders and fire-irons,and things of that sort, but not for the best teapot. Don't you think itwould be better, Nancy, if I were to clean the silver on Fridaymornings, and you could get on with your kitchen?'

  'As you wish, Miss Lilian,' said Nancy, relinquishing thepolishing-leather with no great sorrow. 'Miss Vaughan, she always did ither own self, too. Was you going to do anything with that stock that hasbeen in the larder since Monday?'

  'Oh, Nancy, I had forgotten all about it!' cried Lilian, muchconscience-stricken at the reminder. 'And I had intended to make it intosoup. Do go and fetch it, and see if it is still good.'

  But the stock, alas! had accumulated a skim of green mould on thesurface, and generally betrayed such symptoms of distress that it wasfit for nothing but the pig-trough; and when Lilian, warned by its awfulexample, visited her neglected shelves, she found so many forgottenscraps put away into odd corners that she straightway formed theexcellent resolution of reviewing the larder daily after breakfast,having an uneasy sensation that it was one of the golden rules whichAunt Helen had particularly impressed upon her, but which, like manyothers, had slidden into the background of her remembrance.

  It was certainly one thing to housekeep with Aunt Helen at her elbow toadvise, and quite another to puzzle it out with only her memory and thecookery-book for assistance. The quantities required for a family offive persons was a subject which took her some time to master.

  'There's the butcher's boy at the back-door, miss,' observed Nancy onemorning, a few days after the wedding, putting her head into the RoseParlour, and interrupting the 'Bridal March' from 'Lohengrin' whichLilian was trying over on the piano. 'He's left his cart at the bottomof the drive, but he'll fetch up anything you want.'

  The butcher only came round weekly at Gorswen, so Lilian abandoned hermusic and sallied forth to give her first order.

  'We're quite tired of great sirloins of beef and legs of mutton,' sheannounced. 'Haven't you anything else this morning?'

  'Nice bit of pork, mum,' suggested the man--'fillet of veal.'

  'I'm sure the veal would be a change; we haven't had any for a longtime.'

  'Very good, mum. How much may we send you?'

  'About a pound and a half, I should think,' said Lilian, knitting herbrows and trying in vain to remember the extent of Aunt Helen's weeklyorder. 'Or suppose we say two pounds. I expect that would be right.'

  The meat arrived in due course, looking such a very small amount whenNancy placed it on the kitchen-table that Lilian exclaimed in horror:

  'Why, Nancy, that will never last us for a week! It looks hardly enoughfor one dinner!'

  Nancy shook her head doubtfully, but did not offer any assistance in thedilemma.

  'Perhaps if we boiled it, it might swell out a little, and be enough fortwice, at any rate. I think you had better get a pan and put it on atonce. I believe things have to boil for a long time before they'retender.'

  Nancy obeyed without question.

  'I suppose you can keep your eye on it, Miss Lilian?' she observed. 'Ishall be busy upstairs in the bedrooms this morning.'

  And she departed with broom and dustpan, leaving her young mistress incharge of the kitchen.

  Lilian really did mean to look after that meat. She got it boilingbriskly, and filled up the pan several times with water; then, giving ita final replenishing, she ran off to practise a few scales andexercises.

  She was quite sure she had not been absent more than ten minutes, butwhen she returned to the kitchen she was greeted by a strong smell ofburning, and rushing to her pan, found that every drop of water hadboiled out, and the veal was frizzling at the bottom into a hard blackmass. To take it off was her first act, and to call Nancy to the rescueher second.

  'Well, it do be a pity, Miss Lilian,' said that sympathizing damsel.'But there, don't take on so! We can cut off that black part at thebottom, and put the rest down with some vegetables. Happen it'll turnout all right after all. There'll be just time afore dinner,' choppingaway as she spoke in a vigorous onslaught on the carrots and onions.

  It was Saturday, so the children were at home, but even their healthyappetites were not equal to the very untempting dish which was setbefore them, for the unfortunate veal had boiled away to ribbons, andall the goodness had gone i
nto the lost gravy, while the pulpy remainstasted so hopelessly burnt as to be perfectly uneatable.

  'The vegetables are quite nice, at any rate,' began Father cheerfully;then seeing Lilian's swimming eyes: 'Never mind, little woman;experience is always dearly bought, and a vegetarian dinner won't hurtus for once in a way. We must make out with home produce until thebutcher comes again. There's a young cockerel that will do for Sunday,and perhaps I can shoot you a rabbit; and we can always fall back uponeggs and bacon, at any rate, if there is nothing else to be had. Cheerup! I don't expect to find a full-fledged housekeeper in five minutes!'

  After this Lilian determined to provide more generously, and astonishedthe grocer by ordering three pounds of cayenne pepper, and a likequantity of mace (embarrassing possessions which lingered in thespice-cupboard for years before they were eventually finished), andgenerally running the household on so liberal a scale that Father had tointerfere and preach economy. Such very Spartan fare was the result ofhis lecture that he wisely fixed her a weekly allowance, and left her tomanage as best she could upon it, and this plan answered far better,for she had a natural aptitude for arithmetic, and soon learned to makethe various items fall into their proper places, balancing her littleaccount-book in quite a professional manner.

  About this time, too, Lilian took to poring over the 'Ladies' Column' inthe newspaper, and trying the various recipes which were given therein.Some of them were very successful, and--especially the cakes--were muchappreciated by the children, though others did not turn out quite whatshe had expected, in which case it is only charitable to suppose theoven was at fault.

  'There's a splendid one here, Nancy,' she announced one day, 'under theheading of "What to do with your Cold Mutton." You mince it all up withherbs, and make it into a kind of pasty, and it sounds most delicious.It says, "First take a couple of onions." By-the-by, did Joe bring inany onions this morning? Those in the basket are all finished.'

  'No, Miss; Joe, he's never been near to-day, though there's master'sshooting-boots waiting for him to clean.'

  'Oh, then do run down, Nancy, please, and ask him to dig up a few, whileI put the meat through the mincing-machine. You'll very likely find himin the orchard or the stackyard.'

  Nancy soon returned flushed and out of breath, with a full apron.

  'I couldn't find Joe nowheres,' she panted. 'But he'd put these down inthe harness-room, so I just took them. Shall I chop them up for younow?'

  'Please do. But oh, Nancy, stop! Let me look! These are not onions;they're the gladiolus bulbs that David has just taken up from thegarden! What a mercy you did not put them into the pasty! We might allhave been poisoned!'

  'Lor!' said Nancy, much abashed, 'I made so sure they was onions I neverthought to look at 'em. But if it's only a couple you're needing, miss,there are two or three left in the larder that would do. Was it anythingelse you'll be wanting?'

  'It says, "Take a little dried thyme, sage and sweet marjoram,"' readLilian, with her finger on the recipe, '"together with a few pieces oflemon-peel." I wonder what it calls "a little." I haven't the slightestidea, but I suppose we must put plenty in to make it a nice flavour, orit won't taste of anything.'

  So, putting a very liberal interpretation on the words, she cut up agoodly supply of those herbs, and mixed them in with the meat.

  The pasty came out of the oven baked to a turn, and smelling delicious,and Lilian felt quite a thrill of satisfaction as it was placed on thetable, and Father began to cut it. But the 'Ladies' Column' should havebeen a little more explicit as to the quantity of flavouring, for, whenit came to a matter of eating, the herbs so entirely predominated thatthe mutton was utterly lost, and, as she had unfortunately cut up thestalks as well as the leaves, the mixture bore a horrible resemblance tochopped hay. It was distinctly galling, but, still, she learned by hermistakes; for practice gives the best training, and there is no suchinvaluable teacher as hard experience.

  Well-meaning friends were kind in their offers of help and advice, but,as Lilian said:

  'You can't run down in the middle of mixing a pudding to ask MissForster how much sugar to put into it, or send for the Rector'shousekeeper to tell you when the custard is thick enough. Mrs.Davenport told me to write her a post-card if I got into a fix, and shewould come over and set me straight; but I don't think I should quitelike that, and I'm sure Nancy wouldn't.'

  Father did not encourage her to seek outside help, thinking it betterthat the Abbey should manage its own affairs, even at the cost of alittle inconvenience, and kindly shut his eyes to many smalldeficiencies, knowing that time was the best remedy, and that old headsdo not naturally grow on young shoulders.

  At first the cares of her new position were a terrible burden on thepoor child's mind, for she was, if anything, too conscientious, andalmost morbidly anxious to do right and fill the place which Aunt Helenhad left so empty. She would wake at four o'clock in the morning, andnot dare to close her eyes again, for fear Nancy should oversleepherself, and the children be late for school. She would visit the dairyten times a day to see that the thunder had not turned the milk, nor thecat crept in through the window. She counted and recounted the linen andthe silver, and sat worrying over her account-books at night till Fatherthreatened to burn them.

  I think her greatest trial, however, was on the few occasions when Mr.Vaughan was obliged to stay away for the night, and leave herresponsible for the safe keeping of the whole establishment. She wouldgo round with Nancy and a candle, carefully locking all the doors andsecuring the shutters, peering fearfully into cupboards and starting ather own shadow on the wall; and, having finally retreated to herbedroom, would barricade the door with a tin box, and place the pokerhandy on a chair by her bedside. But in spite of these precautions, thenights were misery all the same. Sleep refused to come, and she layawake hour after hour, imagining every sound to be a burglar breakinginto the premises, and wondering how Peggy could slumber so peacefullyin the other little white bed. It is amazing, when the house isperfectly quiet, how many creaks and peculiar noises make themselvesheard which we never think of noticing in the daytime. The wind blowingthe ivy about would sound like a hand tapping upon the pane, the cattletrampling in the fields suggested footsteps under the window, and amouse behind the wainscot would raise her to such a pitch of panic thatshe would often be obliged to get up and light the candle to reassureherself, and when she at last fell asleep it was generally with herfingers stuffed in her ears, and her head buried under the bedclothes,an uncomfortable proceeding, resulting in such white cheeks and heavyeyes that Father, with some difficulty finding out the cause of thetrouble, never left in future without arranging for old David to sleepin the house during his absence.

  I think, during those early struggles, her correspondence with AuntHelen was her greatest help and comfort, for to that dearest of friendsshe could unburden all her worries and perplexities, and be sure ofsympathy.

  'It is so hard to do exactly right,' wrote Lilian--'to be generouswithout being extravagant, and economical without being stingy. Fathersays we must be careful, and spend as little as we can, but things toeat seem to cost such a terrible amount all the same. I wish we couldlive on porridge and potatoes, like the Irish do! Life would be farsimpler.

  'About going on with my education. You ask if I am keeping up my Frenchand German, but there really seems no time. The two hours' practisingfor Herr Frankenburg is as much as I can possibly get in. I am busywith Nancy all morning, the music takes the best part of the afternoon,then the children come home, and after tea I must see that they learntheir lessons and go to bed, and Father likes someone to talk to in theevenings. It is so dull for him if I am buried in a German exercise whenhe wants to tell me about the farm. I try to attack a few "improving"books when I can manage it, and I have begun to read Carlyle's "FrenchRevolution" to Father in the evenings, but I am sorry to say itgenerally sends him to sleep. He is so tired with the threshing justnow, poor darling! and, as he said one night: "You see, my dear, I haveso many
troubles of my own at present that the trials of the Frenchpeasantry of a hundred years ago seem an affair of quite minorimportance."'

  Aunt Helen's letter back was just like a little piece of her dear self.

  'I can sympathize thoroughly with all your worries,' it ran, 'for I,too, was left motherless at sixteen, to manage as best I could. Ofcourse, keep up our family standard of cleanliness and order as much asyou possibly can, but you will find it a mistake to be too particularand exacting. Rather, let the children run in sometimes with dirty bootsthan check their confidence by continual fault-finding. I am sorry thatthe education must needs be somewhat neglected, but after all the otheris more important. There are plenty of "blue" Girton girls in the worldwho do not seem to me to be of much use to anyone except themselves,while as the "little mother" of your home you are filling a place thatis the sphere of every true woman. And because you have no time forreading is not any reason why your thinking powers need rust away. Thereis so much wisdom to be learnt from even the little ordinary incidentsof life if one knows how to appreciate them. People say one is apt togrow narrow with living in the country, but I have generally found thepeople who do so are those who have no interests outside the round ofsociety pleasures or social gossip, and to my mind they would be narrowanywhere. When you know a little about botany and natural history, allthe common things on the farm have something to teach you. The quaintsayings of the villagers are often as full of humour as those Scotchbooks over which people rave so much, and many of their stories are suchinteresting survivals of ancient folklore that I have often longed tocollect them in writing. While surely, to a thoughtful mind, theconstant sight of so much loveliness around tends to have a moreennobling effect than an environment of bricks and mortar and smokychimneys, whatever the Londoners may say.

  'Do your household duties thoroughly, but don't let them absorb youentirely, for Father does not want you to be a mere domestic drudge,with no ideas beyond the potato-pan and the pepper-pot. When I was ayoung girl I often tilted up a volume of Tennyson and read snatcheswhile I compounded a pudding, and found it had a wonderfully inspiringeffect, and did not spoil the cooking either, for my "Tennyson" puddingsgenerally turned out a great success.

  'You will find the housekeeping comes easier as you grow older, and inthe meantime remember you are not only educating yourself, but bringingup the younger ones, who look to you now instead of to me for example,and who will be far more influenced by what you do and what you are thanby any amount of good advice you may bestow upon them. It is hard towrite all this from a distance of so many thousand miles, when I amlonging to sit over the fire in the Rose Parlour, and have a good chatwith you, like we used to do sometimes when the children had gone tobed.

  'I am afraid there seems very little festivity or party-going for you,dear child, and I should have been glad to hear you had been asked outrather more; but, after all, much society often means much rivalry andheartburning. I have tried both, and find there is more real pleasure tobe had from the intellectual than from the social side of life, forwhile the latter is apt to fail us just when we most require it, theformer is "warranted to wear well and improve with keeping," and, so farfrom being affected by the changes and chances of this world, sticks byus when health and wealth and even friends can fall away.'