laugh; "and your dear father is too.My dear Dumps, he has a ravenous appetite. That is a great relief tome. He hasn't the faintest idea how much he eats, but it's that thatkeeps him going. He eats without knowing that he is eating. But hemustn't go on doing that. I am certain he bolts his food, and that willmean indigestion by-and-by. And indigestion breaks up life. You and Ihave a great deal on our hands."
Then there was a dead pause.
"Dumps dear," she said, coming nearer.
In another minute perhaps she might have said something, and all thatfollowed need never have been written; just at that moment she laid herhand on my shoulder, but before she could utter the words, whatever theywere, that were trembling on her lips, her eyes fell on the littletrunk--on the little leather trunk with my initials, R.G., on the lid.She could not mistake it. She gave a start; into her comely cheeksthere flamed a vivid red. She bent down without a word and opened thetrunk. She looked at the contents, took up the card which I had laid onthe top and read it. Then she laid it back again very quietly, withoututtering a syllable, and closed the lid of the little trunk. Then sheturned to me.
"Shall we go down to supper?" she said. Her voice was quite cheerful.But there was a wall of ice between us.
PART TWO, CHAPTER ONE.
THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS.
Of course, my step-mother made a great change in the house. I cannotexactly describe how things were gradually altered, and how the desolateold mansion became a habitable and cheerful home. But it certainly wascompletely metamorphosed. The old regime with regard to fires was thefirst change. Mrs Grant said that such a big, empty, rambling placemust be kept thoroughly warmed in winter. Accordingly, in thedining-room a fire always blazed, and was kept well piled up with solidlumps of shining black coal of the very best Silkstone, which Hannahwould never dream of affording in the old days. Then into my bedroomand into the boys' bedroom were introduced wonderful new gas-stoves,which gave not the slightest smell, but which could be lit at a moment'snotice, and would make the bedrooms thoroughly warm and comfortable.
But I no longer slept in my attic. I had struggled hard against MrsGrant's wish to move me into another part of the house, but in the end Iyielded, and now I had a pretty room, brightly papered and nicelyfurnished, on the floor just above the drawing-room.
"Why," said my step-mother, "we do not need to use those desolate atticsat all. This room will do for Alex, this for Charley, and this forDumps; and this, when we have visitors, for the spare room. Hannah andthe other servants can sleep upstairs. For you, children, this ought tobe your floor, and it shall be," continued the little lady, speakingwith that spirit which always characterised her.
As to the boys, they were delighted with their new rooms. They werefurnished exceedingly simply; indeed, they looked quite bare enough tomake most people consider them somewhat hermit-like sort of sleepingapartments; but then those people had never visited the attics whereAlex and Charley used to sleep.
"These rooms are quite good enough for boys; you mustn't pamper boys,whatever happens," said Mrs Grant. "Girls are different; girls needsofter treatment."
But her most delightful innovation was the introduction into the houseof two excellent servants to help Hannah. There had been, I have notthe slightest doubt of it, a very terrible scene in the kitchen whenMrs Grant interviewed Hannah. Hannah was not visible at all for therest of the day, and my step-mother and I went out for our meals.
On the next day Hannah came upstairs and said she wished to speak toMrs Grant. They had a long conference, and when Hannah came out of herpresence, the eyes of that good woman were very red, but she succumbedwithout a word.
A new range was now put into the kitchen, a boy came every morning tohelp Hannah with the heaviest part of her work, an excellent housemaidattended to the bedrooms, and a first-rate parlour-maid opened the halldoor and served up our meals. In short, we were a new family.
The drawing-room, however, had not yet been touched. I wondered whatMrs Grant would make of the drawing-room. I did not like to questionher. I was quite good--outwardly good, I mean--all this time to mystep-mother, but we did not come a bit nearer to each other. The littletrunk with the letters R.G. on the cover seemed to stand between myheart and her heart. Nevertheless, we chatted together all day long,and planned how we would meet this contingency and the other, and whatsurprises we would give to father, and how we could manage things.
One day about six weeks after father's second marriage Mrs Grant cameto me. She had a pleased and delighted expression on her face.
"Rachel, my dear child," she said, "how old are you?"
"I shall be sixteen on my birthday, and my birthday comes in May. It isa long way off yet."
Then I gave a sigh, and felt a sudden contraction of my heart.
"Well, anyhow, dear, this is Quarter Day, the 21st of December. I havebeen speaking to your father, and he means to give you a dressallowance."
"A what?" I said.
"A dress allowance, dear. You must, you know, have clothes suitable toyour father's daughter. Here is the first quarter's money."
She put two crisp Bank of England notes, worth five pounds each, into myhand. I started; I coloured crimson; I looked at the money.
"But I--I don't know what to do with this," I said.
"Oh yes, you will know very well what to do with it. Now the questionis, would you like me to help you to choose some pretty dresses, orwould you rather manage the whole affair yourself?"
Again there was that pathetic expression in her eyes which I had seenfor a minute or two before. She was looking at me very earnestly. Iwas about to say, "Oh, will you help me to choose, for I don't knowanything about dress?" when I remembered the pretty dark-blue dress withthe grey fur. That dress, which I always felt had been given me underfalse pretences, seemed to rise up now to slay the feeling of kindnesswhich, in spite of everything, I could not help entertaining for mystep-mother in my heart. "If you don't greatly mind," I said, "perhapsthis first time I had better choose my own dresses."
"As you like, dear, of course; but you mustn't go alone. You might askone of your schoolfellows to go with you. And, Dumps dear, ask as manyof your friends in to tea as you like on Wednesday afternoons andSaturday afternoons; those are your half-holidays, and you can go tovisit those whom I like you to know also on those days. I want you tohave a very pleasant life, my dear child."
"Thank you," I answered.
"You understand, Rachel, that my wish is to make you happy."
"I am sure of it," I said.
"And you are happy?"
"I am comfortable," I said.
I folded the money up.
"I will thank father when I see him. It is exceedingly kind of him," Isaid.
"I wouldn't worry him," said Mrs Grant. She looked at me a littleanxiously.
"But why not?"
"He has forgotten all about it by now. It is unfair to disturb a man ofhis nature with these trivial details."
I slipped the notes into my pocket. "Have you no purse, dear?"
"Upstairs," I said.
"Well, be careful of the money. Don't lose it."
"I'll be very careful; thank you so much."
I went out into the hall. Charley was there.
"I say, Dumps!"
"What is it, Charley?"
"Von Marlo and I have been talking about the new mamma."
"You are not to call her that."
"But I say she is, you know; and Von and I, we say--"
"I don't want to hear."
"But you shall--you must! We say she is _awfully_ jolly--just A1, A1--and that--"
But I rushed past. There was a choking lump in my throat; in anotherminute I should have burst into tears.
I managed to reach my own pretty new bedroom without disgracing myself.I shut and locked the door and stood in the centre of the room. Thecrisp five-pound notes rustled in my pocket, but I, Dumps--in otherwords, Rachel Grant--stamped my foot.
I was in an absolute passion. Idid not know why I felt so thoroughly angry.
What unreasonable creatures girls are! Three months ago I would havegiven anything for my present surroundings and my present prospects: I,who hardly ever had a penny of my own; I, who was only half-fed and onlyhalf-clothed, who was desolate, without a real friend in the world; formy father--my dear old father--lived for ever and ever in Wonderland,and no one could bring him bock from that strange country, where hedwelt with other geniuses of his kind, and I and the boys had to suffer;and Hannah, notwithstanding her protestations, neglected us soshamefully that the wonder was we were not ill. All of a sudden,however, "Open sesame!" and behold a new order of things! The old orderhad given way to the new. We were