The Inglises Part 23

"Well, I won't be dismal any more to-night, if I can help it. Davie, take Polly, and, mamma, lie down on the sofa and rest while I make the tea. Jem, you shall help me by making up the fire. We will all have tea to-night, because I am a visitor."

"All right!" said Jem. "Anything to please all round; and the hot tea will cool us nicely, won't it?"

"It will refresh us at any rate."

And so the little cloud pa.s.sed away, and Violet's cheerfulness lasted through the rest of the visit, and up to the moment that she bade Jem good-bye at Mr Oswald's gate. It did not last much longer, however.

It was nearly dark, and Mr Oswald and his sister and Frank were sitting on the lawn to catch the faint breeze that was stirring among the chestnut trees.

"I thought you were not coming home to-night," said Miss Livy, in an aggrieved tone.

"I was detained," said Violet. "How are the children?"

"They are in bed at last. You should not have told them that you would be home before their bed-time, unless you had intended to come.

However, they are in bed now. Pray don't go and disturb them again.

Philip had to go to them at last. He is up-stairs now. They are dreadfully spoiled."

Violet dropped down in the nearest chair.

"How are the children at home?" asked Mr Oswald, kindly.

"They are--not better."

"I hope they are not spoiled," said Frank, laughing. "Did they cry when you came away, Violet?"

"They were rather fretful. They are not strong."

"You are not very well yourself, to-night," said Mr Oswald. "The change will do you as much good as any of them."

"I am quite well," said Violet.

"We have been speaking about sending the girls to the country for a change of air," went on Mr Oswald. "Will you go with them? Betsey will go too, of course, but they will scarcely be happy without you, and the change will do you good."

"Thank you. You are very kind. But the children need me at home. I could not think of leaving mamma while they are so poorly to go away for pleasure."

"It would not be quite all pleasure, I fancy," said Mr Philip. "They are asleep at last. It cannot be a very easy thing to keep them amused all day, as they are just now."

"They are quite spoiled," said Aunt Livy.

"Oh! no. Not quite. They are good little things in general, as children go. You can't judge now, aunt," said Philip. "Miss Inglis, are you not a little dismal to-night?"

"So Jem told me. I am tired. I think I shall say good-night and go up-stairs."

"It should be settled at once about the children, where they are to go, and who is to go with them," said Aunt Livy.

"There is no haste," said Mr Oswald. "Perhaps the children at home may be better able to spare you in a day or two, Miss Violet."

"Thank you. It would be very pleasant, but--"

"Why not send all together?" said Philip. "Ned and Jessie and wee Polly, with Charlotte and Sarah? I dare say they would all be better of a change, poor little souls!"

"I dare say they can do without it, thank you," said Violet, stiffly.

"For what? My suggestion? They would like it, I am sure."

"People cannot get all they like in this world."

"Violet," said Frank, solemnly, "I believe you are cross."

"I am almost afraid I am," said Violet, laughing uneasily.

"For the first time in your life. Something dreadful must have happened at the bridge house to-day!"

"No; nothing happened."

"The children are not better, that is what is the matter," said Philip; "though it ought not to make you cross, only sorry. Depend on it, it is change they want," said Philip, with the air of a doctor.

"It is worth thinking about; and it would be very nice if they could all go together, with you to take care of them," said Mr Oswald. "Very nice for our little girls, I mean. Think of it, and speak to your mother."

"Thank you; I will," said Violet.

"Much they know about it," said she to herself, as she went up-stairs in the dark. "An extra orange or a cup of strawberries for the little darlings has to be considered in our house, and they speak of change as coolly as possible. And I didn't know better than to trouble mamma with just such foolish talk. We must try and have mamma and Polly go to Gourlay for a week or two. June not half over, and how shall we ever get through the two not months! Oh, dear! I am so tired!"

Violet was so tired in the morning that she slept late, and a good many things had happened next morning before she came down-stairs. When she opened the dining-room door she thought, for a minute, she must be sleeping still and dreaming; for, instead of the usual decorous breakfast-table, Aunt Livy seemed to be presiding at a large children's party. Everybody laughed at her astonished face, and little Mary held out her arms to be taken.

"My precious wee Polly! Have you got a pair of wings?" said she, clasping and kissing her little sister.

"We are to stay all day, if we are good. You are to tell mamma how we behave," said Jessie. "We came in a carriage, with Mr Philip and Jem."

Violet looked a little anxiously from Aunt Livy to Mr Oswald, and saw nothing to make her doubt the children's welcome. Mr Oswald smiled; Miss Livy nodded.

"They seem very well-behaved children," said she. "Not at all spoiled."

"We haven't been here long," said Jessie, gravely. "But we are going to be good, Letty. We promised mamma."

And they were very good, considering all things. Still, it was a fatiguing day to Violet. She followed them out and she followed them in; and when they grew tired, and their little legs and their tempers failed, she beguiled them into the wide gallery, shaded by vines, and told them stories, and comforted them with toys and picture-books and something nice to eat. It would have been a better day, as far as the visitors were concerned, if there had been less to see and to admire.

But the great house and garden were beautiful and wonderful to their unaccustomed eyes, and they had tired themselves so utterly that they grew fretful and out of sorts, and were glad when it came night and time to go home; and so was Violet.

The next day they came they were stronger and better, but they needed constant attention, lest mischief should happen among them; and, on the third morning, Violet was not sorry to hear the rain pattering on the window. Not that she would have minded ten times the trouble for herself, so that the children were the better for it, but it was as well not to try Miss Livy's forbearance too far. Miss Livy had had very little to do with children since she was a child herself, and that little led her decidedly to agree with the generally-received opinion that the children of the present day are not so well brought up as children used to be. This opinion did not make her more patient with them, but rather less so; and so Violet was not sorry for the rain that kept her little sisters at home.

At breakfast, the subject of sending the little girls, Charlotte and Sarah, to the country for awhile was again brought up by their aunt, and, in the afternoon, Violet, at Mr Oswald's request, went home to speak to her mother about it; but she had fully determined beforehand how the matter was to be decided, as far as she was concerned.

However, everything was put out of her mind by the surprise that awaited her; for, at the bridge house, they were entertaining an angel unawares, in the person of Miss Bethia Barnes. And was not Violet glad to see her? So glad that she put her arms round her neck and kissed her, and then laughed and then cried a little, not quite knowing what she did.

"It is good to see you, Aunt Bethia," said she.

"You are the only one of the family who looks better for Singleton,"

said Miss Bethia, regarding her with pleased wonder.

Miss Bethia had considered Violet a little girl when she left Singleton; but she was a little girl no longer, but a young woman, and a very pretty young woman, too, Miss Bethia acknowledged. If Violet had not been so glad to see her, and shown it so plainly as to disarm her, she must, even at the first moment, have uttered some word of counsel or warning, for to be pretty, and not aware of it, or vain of it, was a state of things that she could not believe in. However, she reserved her advice for a future occasion, and, in the meantime, drew her own conclusions from the brightening of the mother's face at the coming of her eldest daughter, and from the eager way in which little Mary clung to her, and the others claimed her attention.