she are very worried, and she hopes we’ll all be very good while they’re away, and that we must help her to be very brave. What can she mean?”
All except Leila looked rather grave and puzzled; all, that is to say, except Nurse, whose face expressed distress, but not surprise.
“She knows something,” thought Chrissie. Then she turned impatiently to her elder sister.
“Leila,” she exclaimed, “don’t you hear? Leave off reading, you selfish thing.”
“Miss Leila,” Nurse joined in, “you know your Mamma has forbidden you to read at meals.”
Leila looked up at last.
“What are you all chattering about?” she said, and she pushed her book to one side, in so doing almost upsetting the milk jug, had not Jasper, who was next her, just caught hold of it in time, and lifted away the little volume.
“I’ll put it down for you,” he said, clambering off his chair as he spoke, and Leila, who, to tell the truth, had got to the end of a chapter, made no objection.
“What are you all chattering about?” she repeated, though without giving any one; a chance of replying she turned to Nurse complaining that her tea was quite cold.
“How could it be anything else,” said Chrissie. “You let it stand while you go on reading. I never did know anyone as selfish as you, Lell.”
As regarded the cold tea there really was no possible defence, so Leila contented herself with saying —
“I only ask to be left in peace. I don’t call that half as selfish as perpetually teasing and worrying everybody, as you do, Chrissie,” and a war of words was on the point of beginning had not her curiosity suddenly changed her ideas. “What’s the matter?” she went on, “I’ve asked you twice. What are you all so excited about?”
“It’s poor little Mumsey,” said Jasper softly.
“Shut up, Japs,” said Roland. “You don’t deserve to be told, Leila. It’s a letter from Mother. She seems in very low spirits and – ”
“She says we must help her to be brave,” interrupted Christabel, “and we don’t know what she means, and – ”
“Chrissie,” interrupted Roland in his turn, but certainly with more right to do so, “be so good as to hold your tongue. The letter is to me, not to you.”
He glanced at it again. “Yes,” he said, “it looks as if there was something the matter.”
“Is that all?” said Leila. “I daresay it’s nothing much. P’raps she said ‘brave’ by mistake for ‘cheerful,’ for I suppose Dads is rather cut up about old uncle, though really we can’t be expected to mind much.”
In this sentiment apparently both Roland and Christabel agreed. Only Jasper murmured half to himself —
“I don’t like nobody to die. He used to pat my head, and he gave me five shillin’s on my birthday”; but to this modest tribute to poor old Uncle Percy’s memory there was no response.
“Oh, I daresay it’s all rubbish,” said Chrissie, having recourse to one of her favourite words. “Any way, it’s no good bothering beforehand. If there’s anything wrong we’ll know it soon enough, when Mums comes back on Monday.”
“Monday,” repeated Leila in surprise. “Is she coming as soon as that?”
“She says she has things to see to for Dads here,” said Roland, “and he’s got to stay up there for a bit.”
“Oh, that’s of course,” said Chrissie. “Fareham’s all ours now, don’t you see? Dads will have to give lots of orders and settle everything. I daresay Mummy is bothered about all she’ll have to do now, with two big houses – though I’m sure she needn’t mind; it’s easy to get plenty of servants.”
For the first time Nurse here ventured on a remark.
“Not so easy as you might think, my dear. Large possessions bring their burdens. Still there are worse troubles than riches, ’specially to those not used to small means.” She sighed, and, in unconscious sympathy, little Jasper murmured again, “Poor Mumsey.”
“You’re always so gloomy, Nurse,” said Chrissie pertly, and though it was far from true, Nurse said nothing in her own defence; she only glanced across the table, saying gently, “Master Roland, won’t you be late?”
The boy jumped up hastily, exclaiming —
“Where’s my book strap? I’m sure I brought it in here.”
“It’s fastened round your books, Roley. I did them,” said a small voice.
“Thank you, Japs; you’re not half a bad sort,” the elder brother returned, and Jasper glowed with pleasure.
Chapter Two
“Spoilt.”
Some half-hour or so after Roland had gone, Lewis, the footman, made his appearance at the nursery door, looking somewhat aggrieved.
“If you please, Miss Leila,” he began; then catching sight of Leila completely absorbed in her book and comfortably established by the fire, he hesitated and turned to Chrissie.
She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by scraps of silk, ribbon, coloured paper, and every article of furniture belonging to the beautiful large dolls’ house standing in a corner of the room.
“It’s Miss Earle, please, Miss Chrissie,” he began again. “She’s been here ever so long, and now she’s been ringing and ringing the schoolroom bell, till I didn’t know what was the matter.”
Chrissie went on calmly with her sortings.
“Well,” she said, “there’s nothing the matter. Tell Miss Earle we’ll come directly,” and with this piece of information Lewis had to content himself.
Chrissie glanced at Leila. Except for Jasper, quietly marshalling an army of tin soldiers at a side-table, the sisters were alone in the room, as Nurse and Fanny were busy in the little girls’ bedroom, the arranging and tidying of which was a much more serious affair than it should have been, and the door of which was shut.
“Leila,” said Chrissie.
No answer.
“Leila,” more emphatically, “Leila!”
“Well?” and Leila’s lovely dreamy dark eyes lifted themselves for a moment.
“Didn’t you hear? You might as well be stone deaf,” Chrissie went on, growing angry. “Miss Earle has sent up to say she’s been waiting hours.”
“Then she told a great story,” replied Leila lazily. “I’ll come in a moment, but I must just stop at a good place.”
“And I must match these colours for the new drawing-room furniture covers,” said Chrissie. “I’ll never get them so nice again, if Fanny muddles them all up in the scrap drawer.”
Just then her glance fell on Jasper, who had left off playing
