Frederica and her Guardians Part 7

There was a bed at that side of the room where the roof did not slope, but at this moment it was almost hidden by the great piles of linen arranged upon it. There was a small open stove, in which a coal fire smouldered, and over that part of the floor which was unenc.u.mbered by furniture a faded carpet was spread. There was not one beautiful thing in the room, Frederica thought, except a rose tree covered with buds and blossoms, that stood in the window opposite.

The windows were pleasant, but from them Eppie could only see the sky, they were so high above her. From the one on the high seat of which she sat, Frederica could see thousands and thousands of city roofs, with bits of open s.p.a.ce here and there, and the river beyond. But it was not a fair sight under drizzling rain and a leaden sky, and so she turned her eyes into the room again. Order was gradually coming out of the confusion of the innumerable white garments by which the little old woman had been surrounded. One after another the great trays were carried and emptied, into the many drawers beneath the eaves; and then coming back to place her empty baskets in a recess made beneath the high window, Eppie saw Frederica.

"Preserve us a' la.s.sie! I had no mind o' your being here. It is time for playing yourself now. Why should you be here at this hour?"

"I don't care to play with children any more," said Frederica gravely.

"Eh, sirs! You'll be growing ower-womanly for the like of that, I suppose. Weel, weel! But you shouldna sit so quiet as to make me forget that you are here. I might be saying things that it wouldna be wise to say in your hearing. Are you no coming down out of that?"

"Yes, I am coming, Mrs Campbell. Don't you ever get tired of this place? Is it not awfully dull?"

"Dull!" repeated Eppie, "and tired of it! Is it this chamber you mean?

Where could I go if I tired of it? I am very thankful to bide in it, I can tell you."

"Yes, I suppose so. But don't you get tired of it all the same? What do you look forward to? There is nothing in your life but mending, and keeping count, and--"

"Hear the disrespectful la.s.sie! Folding and keeping count, said she.

That's but for one day in the week. The mending whiles takes two or three, and there's many a thing besides that I canna be speaking to the likes of you about."

"Yes; but not pleasant things, Eppie."

"Pleasant things, quo' she! They're my duty. What other would I hae?"

"But, Mistress Campbell, dear, if I thought I had to live all my life here, even in this house, I should be miserable."

"But then it's no your duty to live here all your life, and that makes the difference. If I were to make myself miserable as you call it, it would be for fear that I mightna get leave to bide here all my life, but I daresay it will be time enough to fret when I'm bidden go."

"That will never be. What would Mrs Glencairn and Miss Robina do without you?"

"There's no telling," said Eppie, nodding her head many times; "but we'll say no more about it. Are you no coming down from that cold window when I bid you?"

"Yes, I'm coming. But, Eppie, how can you be content? Are your father and mother dead? Have you any brothers and sisters? Will it be just the same all your life till you die?"

"Now, missy, come down this moment when I bid you. That's an unwholesome book you've been reading, to put thoughts like that into your mind. It's no me that's like to grow discontented, it's you. And I was just thinking of inviting you to tea."

Frederica sprang down from the window so suddenly as to make the old woman start.

"Oh, do, Eppie dear," cried she eagerly, "that is just the thing I should like. I want to speak to you, and I don't want to go down to that rubbishing history; and I'll read to you. I have not read a page yet, and it's a very nice book they say."

"Is it a story book? But I would far rather hear about the wee beasties out of your lesson book. And I'm no just sure that Miss Robina would be pleased that you should take tea with me so soon again, and I'm no sure that I hae scones enew."

"Oh! Miss Robina will be sure to let me; and never mind the scones.

I'll go down for whatever we need, and I'll ask Miss Robina. Let me stir the fire."

Frederica had forgotten the gloomy day, and the nun, and all imaginable subjects of discontent. She urged her pet.i.tion eagerly; for she knew that Eppie liked to be entreated.

"Let be the fire, missy. You'll do mischief, and spoil your hands. You may bide if you get leave. But I doubt your sister will no be well pleased. It is 'making fish o' the one and flesh o' the other,' I doubt."

But Frederica did not stay to listen. It was a great honour and an exceptional one, to be asked to tea by Mrs Campbell. No other girl now in school, except Tessie and one or two of the elder pupils, had ever been asked to drink tea in the garret. Except for the fun of the thing, or for the sake of a change from the dreary school routine, few of them would have cared to do so. For Eppie was only a little old woman, bowed and lame, who even in her best days had only been a sort of upper servant in Mrs Glencairn's house. The present race of girls did not often see her. Some of them had never seen her; for her daily journey to the lower part of the house to get what she needed was accomplished with much labour and effort at time when the girls were sure to be in school.

Frederica was often in the garret. Miss Robina, whose pet, as Tessie had said, she was, seldom refused her permission when she wished to escape from the other girls, few of whose lessons she shared, either for work or amus.e.m.e.nt. But taking tea there was another matter; and Frederica, rather tired of being dismal, entered eagerly into the preparations. Miss Robina did not object; on the contrary, she was very glad to let her have the pleasure, heartily wishing that she might share it. She did share it for a little while, and added to it. For she came upstairs, carrying in her own hands a tray, on which were some fresh "scones" and a bit of "paddie," each wrapped up in a snowy napkin, as was absolutely necessary to their perfection. She could not stay long-- only long enough to be thanked and petted, and called "bonny bird" and "good bairn" by Mistress Campbell. She had a beautiful and good face, though it was rather pale and tired-looking, Frederica thought, as she sat for a moment smiling in the flickering firelight; and the first thing she said, when she and Eppie were left alone, was,--

"How pretty and nice Miss Robina is! What a pity it is that she has to keep a school?"

To this no reply was given.

"It must be so tiresome to do the same thing over and over again every day of the year," added she.

"There are worse things than that in Miss Robina's life, I'm thinking,"

said Eppie gravely.

"Are there? Tell me about them," said Frederica, eager for a story.

"I doubt you are no speaking with your usual discretion," said Mistress Campbell gravely. "We'll take our tea, and not meddle with what doesna concern us. There are few lives in which there are no troubles. Let us be thankful for our mercies."

It was a very nice tea. Scones and fresh b.u.t.ter and honey, to say nothing of "paddies" and other nice things. And such delicious tea made in a funny little black teapot with a broken spout. Everything was charming, Frederica thought and declared. The novelty would have made it charming to her, though there had been nothing else to do so. They did not fall out of talk. Eppie asked questions about the holidays they had enjoyed; and entered with great interest into all the details Frederica gave her about her mother and Selina, and the drives they had had, and all they had enjoyed together. She grew grave as she went on to tell that her mother was not strong, but easily tired and troubled, and to wish that she could leave school, and stay at home with her always. Eppie was grave too, and occupied with her own thoughts for a little while; and as Frederica sat looking into the fire in silence, the unhappy feeling that had pa.s.sed away in the interest of tea-drinking in such pleasant circ.u.mstances came back again.

"Are you no going to wash the cups?" asked Eppie in a little.

This was always in the evening's entertainment, and to-night it was happily accomplished, inasmuch as it dispelled the cloud which had hung for a moment over them.

"It must be nice to have things to do--useful things I mean," said Frederica.

"I doubt it is a liberty in me to let you wash my cups, or even to ask you to your tea," said Eppie. "For you are no longer the wee missy that came creeping up the stairs the first day you came to the school. You are growing a young lady now."

"That is just what I was telling mama," said Frederica eagerly. "I ought to have done with school now, and stay at home, ought I not? I don't suppose I should wash cups; but there are a great many things I could do for mama and Lina. Do you really think I am growing a young lady, Eppie? I am such a little thing, you know," said Frederica; "but I am nearly fifteen."

An odd smile flickered for a moment on Eppie's small wrinkled face.

"You needna be in any great hurry about being a young leddy. I doubt you're but a bairn to the most o' folk yet," said she.

"Not for myself--I am in no hurry to be grown up for myself; but for mama's sake."

"But there must be a heap o' things for you to learn yet," said Eppie gravely. "There's time enough."

"But I don't see the good of learning so many things, and I have gone through all the books the girls learn here. And mama does need me, I am sure of that."

Then Eppie went on to say how important the season of youth is, and how she had no doubt but Mrs Vane would rather deny herself the happiness of her little daughters' company for the sake of having them become wise and accomplished women, and so on. But Frederica did not seem to be noticing what she was saying; for she asked suddenly,--

"Eppie, do you know where Miss Baines is now? Will she ever come back again, do you think?"

Eppie shook her head.

"Have you not heard? She is dead, my dear."

"Dead!" repeated Frederica.

"Yes. She has gone to a better world, I have little doubt."