In the Mist of the Mountains Part 15

They had thought of them first, they insisted and, strongest reason of all, had got them first. Max had better be a sheep or a Manx cat, and not bother about a tail.

But Max, after a heart-breaking attempt to remove the drawing-room tie-back, which some over-provident person had st.i.tched firmly in its place (as if antic.i.p.ating unhallowed use being made of it), Max had gone bursting with his woes to the one who held his mother's place.

"Please run away, darling," said Miss Bibby again.

But Max sank down to the ground, and lifted up his voice in a bitter howl.

"Mamma--I want my mamma," he yelled, as if he thought that by pitching the key high his voice might sound across the watery waste that separated her from him.

Miss Bibby was not proof against this; in fact it is just possible that Max had long since discovered that this mode of appeal was the most successful one he could essay.

She kissed and comforted him and, holding his hand, went out of the room in search of some article that would lend itself to the present necessity.

Max dragged her to the drawing-room.

"Cut it off," he said, temptingly, "you've got lissors."

There is no doubt whatever that in the circ.u.mstances Mrs. Lomax herself would have promptly given the much-desired article.

But Miss Bibby had established herself as anxious caretaker of the household chattels as well as children.

"Oh, darling!" she said, "I couldn't possibly. Mamma's pretty tie-back to trail in the dust!"

"I wouldn't lail it on the paths, only on the la.s.s," said Max.

But Miss Bibby still shook her head, and Max began to work up from low down in his breast another howl.

Then Miss Bibby had a brilliant notion. She caught sight of a length of rope hanging on the verandah post, relic of a hammock that had gone the way of most hammocks.

"Where is a knife?" she said, "and run and get me a comb, Max."

In five minutes she had half a yard of the excellent material beautifully unravelled, and Max was crazy with pride and eagerness to burst out upon the envious gaze of his sisters thus caparisoned.

He could hardly wait for the realistic affair to be fastened firmly to his belt, but kept saying, "be quick, be quick, Miss Bibby."

"I think I deserve a kiss, Max," she said wistfully, holding the eager little man a moment to her; this baby of the family had made himself a very warm corner in her heart.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Then he shot away through the door."]

Max kissed her hurriedly.

"How much do you love me, darling?" persisted the misguided lady.

Quite conceivably Mrs. Lomax was in the habit of putting this question also, but had learned the wisdom of confining it to sleepy and leisure moments, and not obtruding it upon the strenuous time of play.

Max struggled away. "Big as th' sea, big as th' stars, big as this loom, big as anything," he said hastily. It was his customary formula after this troublesome question.

"You dear little boy!" said Miss Bibby, kissing his soft young cheek.

Then he shot away through the door, and she went back with rapid steps to the collar habit of Hugh Kinross.

CHAPTER XI

MISS BIBBY'S HOLIDAY

Miss Bibby worked another half-hour, perhaps. She was nervous and excited; she had set herself to catch the four o'clock post, and there still were numbers of pages with which she was dissatisfied. She was essaying, indeed, an impossible task--trying to couch Hugh Kinross's eccentricities in dignified English prose. And the shoes, at least, absolutely refused to be so treated; they seemed to stand out from the article just as prominently as they had stood out among the furniture of his room.

Miss Bibby sighed despairingly--the strain and the loss of sleep were telling upon her.

"Miss Bibby," shouted Pauline, bursting into the room, "Miss Bibby, Miss Bibby!"

"Run away," said Miss Bibby; "run away at once, Pauline. Surely it is not much for me to ask to have one day--just one day to myself."

"Quick, quick!" cried Pauline, "m.u.f.fie's stood on an ant-bed, and she's swarming!"

The shoes and the far shade of the laurel trees dropped instantly from Miss Bibby's horizon and, the horrors of the situation overwhelming her, she flew after Pauline to the victim.

The child's condition was piteous; absolutely mad with terror and pain, she was rushing about on the path, Max, yelling with sympathy, tearing after her. Lynn, at the first frantic moment when she saw her sister's high white socks turned black with their live covering, had leapt towards her and, with hands and pinafore, had essayed to sweep the things off. But the a.s.sailants were as alarmed and angry at their position now as the attacked and, while some sought safety by running up Lynn's sleeves, thus forcing her also to dance and scream, the remainder swarmed higher and higher up the luckless m.u.f.fie.

Miss Bibby's presence of mind quite deserted her. The whole of her note-book seemed to zig-zag vainly across her brain--her note-book where she had carefully written down antidotes for any poisons the children might swallow, remedies for scalds, burns, cut fingers, sprains, snake-bites. There was nothing about ants! Yet something must be done and instantly--the feet were the worst.

"Quick, quick! give me your foot, m.u.f.fie," she cried.

The child wildly stuck out one leg.

And Miss Bibby with her slim white hands seized the shoe--the shoe all black with its fierce, p.r.i.c.kly living ma.s.s--unlaced it and dragged it off. Her own arms were alive in a moment, but she merely bit her lip and began to pull at the sock.

"What insanity of folly!" cried Hugh Kinross, sweeping her nearly off her feet, "here, where's the bath-room?"

Pauline dashed on to lead the way, and Hugh ran the two afflicted little girls hurriedly before him with one hand, and Miss Bibby grasped firmly by the shoulder with the other.

Once in the room, he turned on the three taps, hot, cold and shower, all at the same time, and followed this by dropping both children into the water.

"You'd better follow them," he said, for Miss Bibby was fidgeting about as if afflicted with St. Vitus's dance in her arms and shoulders. "Is there any ammonia in the house? Never mind, I'll go across and get some from Kate."

He strode away and Miss Bibby did not lose a minute in following his advice.

He gave the bottle to Anna on his return, Anna, who had only just come back from the end of the orchard where she had found it necessary to go and ask Blake--leisurely--for some parsley. She was open-mouthed at what had happened.

"Here's the armonia, Miss Bibby," she said, going into the bath-room, "and you're to--to pollute it with some water and rub it on hard. Here, will I be doing, Miss Lynn?"

The children were gasping and gurgling now with laughter at the funniness of the whole affair, and even Miss Bibby was smiling a little at the drowned appearance of all of them.

She applied the ammonia to the bites, then left Anna to help the children into dry clothing, while, having carefully ascertained that Mr.

Kinross had quite gone, she ran along the pa.s.sages to her own bedroom, a limper lavender lady than ever.