The Eldest Son Part 5

She ended with a ripple of laughter, shaking back her hair.

"Well, you're the limit," said d.i.c.k, with a grin. "Come on, let's go and look at the stables. Is it true that you suddenly find yourself possessed of brains, Tw.a.n.ky? I never suspected it of you."

"My dear d.i.c.k," said Joan, as they went down the stairs, "she has been talking about nothing but her brains for the last month, ever since Uncle Herbert last came here to shoot."

"They were always there," explained Nancy, "but he put the match to the tinder. I'm going to write books when I get a little older. But of course I must be properly educated first. I suppose you know we're going to have a really up-to-date, top-hole governess, d.i.c.k?"

"Yes, I've heard that," said d.i.c.k, "although I don't admire your way of describing her. Lord, what a place to put a horse!"

"If it is the expression 'top-hole' you object to, I learnt it from you," said Nancy. "My ears are receptive."

"Two loose-boxes and three stalls," said d.i.c.k. "We can make that do, but they're all on the slant. We'd better begin by altering this at once; the house can wait for a bit."

"Of course the stables are more important than the house," said Joan.

"I say, d.i.c.k, there is something we want to ask you. Do be a brick and say, yes."

d.i.c.k was pursuing his investigations. "Coach-house isn't bad," he said. "Harness-room wants refurnishing. Let's see what the rooms upstairs are like."

They climbed up the steep staircase. "d.i.c.k, will you persuade father to do something?" asked Joan.

"What?" asked d.i.c.k. "This would be all right for an unmarried groom."

"We want a pony. We've never had anything to ride since poor old Tommy died."

They were clattering down the stairs again. "You want--you want--you want everything," said d.i.c.k. "You'll want a four-in-hand next. I don't know whether you want a pig-stye, by any chance. I'll give you this one if you do--ridiculous place to put it! This is where we'll build the game larder. Come on, Tw.a.n.kies, we'll go and look up old Aunt Laura. I want to see what she's taken away from here."

He set off at a smart pace, the twins on either side of him. "I don't know why _you_ want to go putting your oar in about the pony," said Nancy. "I was to tackle father about that."

"Tackle father!" repeated d.i.c.k. "Look here! that's not the way to talk about the governor, Nancy."

"Oh, d.i.c.k darling, don't call me Nancy. I feel that I'm trembling under the weight of your displeasure."

Joan hastened to her relief. "When she said 'tackle,' she only meant that I betted her four weeks' pocket-money that father wouldn't let us have a pony," she said.

"You mean well, but you've done it now," said Nancy.

"Really, it's about time that you two had somebody to look after you,"

said d.i.c.k. "Who on earth taught you to bet, I should like to know?"

"Humphrey," replied Nancy promptly. "We were standing by him, and he betted us a shilling each that he would bring down the next bird that came over. He didn't, and he paid up promptly."

"We wanted him to bet again, but he refused," said Joan.

"But it gave us a taste for speculation which we shall probably never overcome," said Nancy.

d.i.c.k grunted. "Humphrey oughtn't to have done it," he said. "You are not to bet with each other, you two. And that bet about the pony--which was infernal cheek to make, anyhow--is off. Do you hear?"

"Yes, d.i.c.k dear," said Joan obediently. "But what does a bet being 'off' mean, exactly?"

"Is it the same as hedging?" asked Nancy.

"It means--well, it means it's off. You know what it means as well as I do. And I don't like your arranging with each other to get things out of the governor, either--or anybody else. You get plenty given you, and it isn't nice for girls of your age to be always on the make."

"But, d.i.c.k darling," expostulated Joan, "there are such lots of horses about the place. I think we might be allowed to ride now. Of course, we didn't mean a pony, really. We are big enough to stick on a horse, and father wouldn't have to buy another one for us."

"We are about to embark on an arduous course of study," said Nancy, "and horse exercise would be the best possible thing for us."

"You stick to your golf," said d.i.c.k. "We spent a lot of money making those links in the park, and you get more fun out of them than anybody."

"Then you won't help us about riding?" asked Joan.

"No," said d.i.c.k. "All the nags are wanted for hunting, and I'm not going to advise the governor to increase the stables."

Nancy breathed a deep sigh. "It's all your fault, Joan," she said.

"You don't know how to treat a man. You must never blurt things out that you want. You must remember women are a subject race."

"But you won't mind our asking father, d.i.c.k, will you?" pleaded Joan.

d.i.c.k gave his ultimatum. "You'd better give up the idea," he said.

"And remember what I told you about being on the make. You're nice kids, but you want keeping in order. I hope the new lady will do it."

"I hope she will," said Nancy; "but she's got a hard row to hoe. I can't help feeling a little sorry for her."

Aunt Laura had taken up her abode in a little old house on the village street, with a square, brick-walled garden behind it. The agent had occupied it before the death of Aunt Ellen, but had now removed to a farm which was in hand.

They found the old lady sitting by the fire in her parlour, knitting.

She was frail and shrunken, and looked as if she might not long survive her transplantation. Mrs. Clinton or the twins came to see her every day, but a visit from the Squire or one of his sons, and especially d.i.c.k, was an honour which never failed mildly to excite her. She was now in a flurry, and told the elderly maid who had shown her visitors in to bring wine and cake, in the fashion of an earlier day. The men of the family never refused this entertainment, either because they were averse to wounding Aunt Laura's susceptibilities, or because they liked it.

"Well, I hope you've made yourself pretty comfortable, Aunt Laura,"

said d.i.c.k in a loud, clear voice, for the old lady was rather deaf, although she did not like to acknowledge it. He was looking round the room as he spoke. Its panelled walls were painted light green, and were hung with coloured prints. A recessed cupboard was full of beautiful old china; but there was nothing else of much value in the room, which was furnished with a Victorian drawing-room suite and a round rosewood table. The old lady had a pretty modern French table by her side with conveniences for her work and her books. She had also her old cottage piano, with a front of fluted red silk, upon which she sometimes played. A canary hung in the window, which faced south and let in, between the curtains, a stream of wintry sunshine.

"It is a bright little house," said Aunt Laura. "I sometimes wish that your dear Aunt Ellen had spent the last few years of her life here after your dear Aunt Anne died. The dower-house was a very dear home to us, and we were greatly attached to it, but in the winter it was dark, and this is much more cheerful. It is cold to-day, and I am sitting over the fire, as you see. But I often sit by the window and see the people going by. You could not do that in the dower-house, for n.o.body did go by."

"Did you bring all the furniture you wanted to make you comfortable, Aunt Laura?" asked d.i.c.k.

Aunt Laura looked up over her spectacles. "I am quite comfortable, I thank you, d.i.c.k," she replied, "although I have not got quite used to things yet. It is not to be expected that I should, all at once, at my age, and after having lived with the same things round me for close upon forty years. But your dear father has been kindness itself, as he always is, and allowed me to have all my bedroom furniture brought here, so that in my room upstairs I feel quite at home. And for the downstairs rooms he told me that any pictures or china and so forth that I had a fancy for I might have, and I hope I have not taken advantage of his generosity. I shall not want the things for very long, and they are being well taken care of. He did not want me to take any of the furniture, as he said this house was furnished already, but he wanted me to feel at home here."

d.i.c.k seemed to consider for a moment. "If there's anything special you want in the way of furniture, Aunt Laura," he said, "anything you've got attached to and like to use, we'll see if we can't get it brought down for you."

"Well, of course, I got attached to it all," replied Aunt Laura. "But I can't expect to have it all, and what is here will do for me very well. Hannah is making some pretty loose chintz covers for the chairs and sofa in this room, which will give it a more home-like appearance.

I do not like the carpet, which is much worn, as you see, and was never a very good one, but I have half formed a plan of going over to Bathgate when the spring comes and seeing if I can get one something after the pattern of that in the morning-room at the dower-house, which your aunts and I used much to admire. It was old and somewhat faded, but its colours were well blended, and I have heard that it was brought straight from Persia, where they have always made excellent carpets, for my grandfather, who was in business in the city of London. He would be your great-great-grandfather, and they used to call him 'Merchant Jack,' even after he succeeded to Kencote."

If d.i.c.k had known the true value of the carpet in question he might not have offered to have it sent down for Aunt Laura's use, but he immediately did so, and the old lady's grat.i.tude ought sufficiently to have rewarded him. "Now is there anything else, Aunt Laura?" he asked.

"Well, as you are so extremely kind, d.i.c.k," she said, "--and I hope your dear father will not mind, or think that I have been grasping, which I should not like after all his generosity--I think if I might have the use of the old bureau upon which your aunts and I used to write our letters and in which we used to keep our few business papers--for there was a very good lock--not that there was any necessity to lock things up at the dower-house, for everything was under Hannah's charge, and, although she is apt to be a little flighty in her dress, and your dear Aunt Ellen sometimes rebuked her for that, but always kindly, she was quite reliable, and _anything_ might have been left about in perfect safety.--As I was saying, if I might have the use of the old bureau for as long as I live--I should not want it longer--I do not think I should regret anything, except of course that your dear aunts are all gone now, and I am the last of them left."

d.i.c.k had prepared himself, during the foregoing speech, to promise, immediately it came to an end, that Aunt Laura should have the old bureau, although it was a very fine specimen of Dutch marquetry, and the piece of furniture that had struck him as the most desirable of all he had just seen in the dower-house. "Oh, of course, Aunt Laura," he said. "You shall have the bureau and the carpet sent down this afternoon. Then you'll feel quite at home, eh?"