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And Mona--Mona, her nearest and dearest friend, said it was _very_ hot on the Richmond River till the end of March, but April was a perfect month there, and in April she would take _no_ refusal. She must have Thea in her own home all to herself then.
Nellie Harden had her mother's consent to ask Dot to "come out" with her. The debut was to take place in June, at a big ball, and Nellie had "set her heart" on Thea and herself coming out at the _very_ same ball, on the _very_ same night as each other, "All in white, you know, Thea darling, and we _will_ look so nice."
So it will be seen Dot's idea of being elder sister and home daughter had every chance of remaining an idea for the present. With such alluring pleasures, where was there room for duty?
"I'll do my best _every_ time I am at home," said Dot to herself, weighing pleasure and duty in the balance and finding duty sadly wanting, "and I'll _write_ Betty good letters of advice, and take some mending away with me to do."
But all that belonged to yesterday.
To-day Dot was at home, and in the important position of being about to set out upon a journey. She was to start early in the morning and to go direct to the Redfern railway station.
Mr. Bruce had gone to town to draw a five guinea cheque for his eldest daughter. He also had to do a little shopping on her account. All his instructions were written down in Dot's fair round hand-writing upon a piece of foreign notepaper and slipped into his waistcoat pocket.
For those who are at all curious to know what the items were we will steal a look at the paper--
1. Pair of white canvas shoes, size 2.
2. One cake of blanco (for cleaning them with).
3. Two pairs of black silk _shoe_ laces--not boot laces--(all of those things at the same shop).
4. 1-1/4 yds. of _white_ chiffon (_very_ thin--for a veil).
5. 1 bunch of scarlet poppies--just common ones (both of these at same shop--draper's).
6. _At a chemist's_: sponge (6_d._), tooth-brush (9_d._), Packet of violet powder (6_d._).
Mrs. Bruce was letting down Dot's dresses, and altering a pretty blue silk evening blouse (bought ready made). Cyril had cleaned her shoes and the family portmanteau, an ugly black thing, and run half a dozen errands grumblingly--all for Dot!
Betty was locked in her room in disgrace, for running away to seek her fortune. No one was allowed to speak to her, even Baby's "Bet, Bet," was sternly hushed; two slices of bread and a gla.s.s of water were placed outside her door three times a day; three times a day she was permitted to walk for five minutes, each time alone in the garden, then back again to her room.
This state of things, which had commenced on Wednesday morning, was, if Betty showed proper penitence and meekness, to terminate on Sat.u.r.day morning.
Yet even prisoner Betty was employed on Dot's behalf. She had Dot's stockings to mend, and to add insignificant things like b.u.t.tons and tapes and hooks and eyes to those of her garments which had an insufficiency of such trifles. And she was sewing away industriously as she brooded over her woes.
Dot herself was unpacking and packing up. Unpacking all her exercise books, and notebooks, and stacks of neat examination papers; her lesson books and Czerney's 101 _Exercises for the Pianoforte_; her sewing samples and wool-work; her study of a head in crayon, and waratahs and flannel flowers in oils, and peep of Sydney Harbour in water colours.
"When I come home again," she told herself gravely, "I will arrange life: I'll practise _at least_ two hours every morning; I'll do some solid good reading _every_ day--some one like Shakespeare or Milton or Bacon! I'll paint every afternoon. I really have a talent for landscapes. And I'll finish writing my novel. For some things I'm really glad I've finished learning."
A keen observer, regarding Dot's new scheme for life, would detect very little time or thought for reforming the household, and training Betty and teaching the younger ones. But then, Dot's schemes varied, and a day seemed to her a very big piece of time to have to play with as she liked, all in her own hands. Hitherto it had been given out to her in hours by Miss Weir--this hour for French, that for English, this for a const.i.tutional, that for sewing, this for the Scriptures, that for practice, and so on.
What wonder that the felt she could crowd all the arts and sciences into a day when all the hours belonged to her for her very own.
When she went to bed at night, by way of beginning the home reforms she looked at Betty very earnestly and shook her head, words being forbidden.
And she removed her own particular text from above her bed to above Betty's, feeling very old and sedate the while, for it must be owned conscious virtue has a sobering effect.
But the action threw Betty into a towering rage.
"If you don't take down your old text I won't get into bed at all. I've only been trying to make you all rich."
And Dot, who was always alarmed into placidity when she had provoked wrath, returned "Blessed are the pure in heart" to its own position on the wall.
CHAPTER XXI
"GOOD-BYE, GOOD-BYE"
All was ready very early in the morning, for Dot was to start upon her journey at ten o'clock.
The little school trunk and the family portmanteau stood side by side in the hall, labelled and ready to go forth--neat clean labels, bearing the inscription in Dot's best hand-writing--
"MISS BRUCE, Pa.s.senger to Katoomba, Blue Mountains."
A strange excitement was upon Dot. She had never before in her life been upon a railway journey.
The household generally, from her father down to little Nancy, treated her with gentle politeness as a newly arrived and just departing guest.
At breakfast the bread was handed to her without her once asking for it; Nancy watched her plate eagerly, that she did not run out of b.u.t.ter; Mary ran in with a nicely poached egg just at the right moment; Mrs.
Bruce kept her cup replenished without once asking if it was empty.
"Don't do any view hunting or gully climbing alone," said Mr. Bruce.
"It's the easiest thing in life to be lost in the bush. Besides, no girl should roam about alone."
"Oh, don't be too venturesome, darling!" said Mrs. Bruce. "Just think if you fell down one of those valleys or gaps or falls!"
Yet Dot had never been "too venturesome" in her life.
"A little more bread?" inquired Cyril; "don't bother to eat that crusty bit; we can, and I'll give you some fresh."
"More b.u.t.ter?" piped Nancy; then taking a leaf from Cyril's book--"Don't bover to eat it if it's nasty; _we_ will. Have some jam astead."
And Betty, in the silence of her bedroom, was drinking cold water and eating dry bread, without any one asking solicitously "if she would have a little more, or leave that if she did not like it, and have something nicer."
"Yet I was trying to earn money for them all," she said aloud. "I won't try any more. Dot only spends it, but they love her more than me."
It was while these thoughts were busy in her mind that Dot ran down the pa.s.sage and opened the door suddenly. Such a dainty pretty Dot, in her new blue muslin dress that _almost_ reached to the ground, and fitted closely to her slender little figure, and a new white straw hat with a new white gossamer floating out behind waiting to be tied when the kisses were all given and taken.
The girl's face was like a tender blush rose; her eyes were shining with actual excitement (rare thing in placid Dot), and her hair hung down her back in a thick plait tied with blue ribbon.
It was the plait which caught Betty's attention.
"Oh!" she cried in disappointment, and then stopped, remembering the silence that had been imposed upon her.
Dot ran to her and kissed her.