got hold of Chrissie--the naughty, foolishfit of obstinacy left her--she stooped and kissed him.
"You've been very kind," she whispered, and Jasper threw his arms roundher and hugged her.
Thanks and kisses did not come in his way as often as they ought to havedone.
"I'll be very quick now," Christabel added. "I'll be ready for Nurse todo my hair in five minutes. Run off, Japs, and tell her so. No--I'drather you didn't," and she hesitated.
Jasper stood still and looked at her, his legs rather wide apart, hisface solemn.
"I wasn't going to tell nobody," he replied.
"Well, run away then," Christabel repeated, and off he went.
She was a quick and clever child when she chose to give her mind toanything, little more than the five minutes had passed when she openedthe door of communication and called out.
"I'm ready for my hair. Do you hear, Nurse?"
Poor Nurse required no second summons. She had really been growinguneasy about Christabel, and almost afraid that she herself would beobliged to give in, in spite of her promise to Mrs Fortescue. So thesound of Chrissie's voice came as a welcome surprise. She was a kindand good young woman, but not possessed of much tact, otherwise shewould not have greeted the little girl as she did on entering the room.
"That's right, Miss Chrissie," she exclaimed with a smile; "I was sureyou'd think better of it in a few minutes, and not force me to have tocomplain to your dear Mamma, when there's trouble in the house, too."
Instantly Christabel's gentler feelings took flight, like a covey ofstartled birds. She turned upon Nurse.
"That's not true," she said rudely. "You know you _weren't_ sure ofanything of the kind. You know me too well to think I'd go back fromwhat I said, and, as it happens, I didn't. I've _not_ put on mystockings myself this morning, but I won't tell you anything more. AndI do wish you'd leave off talking rubbish about trouble in the house.There's no trouble. We didn't care for Dad's old uncle, who was as deafas a post and whom we scarcely ever saw, and we can't be expected to."
Nurse was silent. She went on tying the ribbons round Chrissie'sabundant locks, without seeming to pay attention to this long tirade.
"Can't you speak?" said the little girl, irritated by her manner.
"Yes, Miss Chrissie," was the reply, "I can, but I would rather not. Idon't think what you say is at all pretty or nice."
Chrissie gave a little laugh.
"Thank you," she said. "Well, one thing's certain: it'll be ever somuch jollier at Fareham the next time we go--you'll see."
This was too much for Nurse.
"Oh, Miss Chrissie," she exclaimed, "and your poor aunt! She's gettingto be an old lady now, and lived all her life with Sir Percy such adevoted sister. You should care for _her_."
Christabel's face softened.
"Well, yes, I do love Aunt Margaret," she said, "but I never thoughtshe'd mind so very much. I should think she'd be glad to be free. Why,she can come and stay with us in London now as much as she likes, inturns with us going to Fareham, though, of course, Fareham will beDaddy's very own now."
Again Nurse was silent, but this time Chrissie took no notice of it, asshe was growing very hungry as well as cold, and very glad to escapeinto the next room, where breakfast was now quite ready.
Leila and Jasper were already there, and as Chrissie ran in, Roland, theeldest of the four children, made his appearance at the other door. Hewas a tall, handsome boy of nearly fourteen--shortly to go to a publicschool, but, for the present, working in preparation for this, under aprivate tutor. He was dark, like Leila, Chrissie's reddish-brown hairand eyes making the middle colouring between these two elder ones andfair, blue-eyed little Jasper.
It was not often, as a rule, that the nursery was honoured by Roland'spresence at breakfast, but he preferred it to solitary state in thedining-room just now, when the death of their old uncle had called awayhis father and mother for some days. And, indeed, nobody could havewished for a pleasanter room than this cheerful nursery, with its large,old-fashioned bow-window facing the park, the pretty paper on the walls,white-painted furniture, bright fire, and neatness; though, as regardsthis last attraction, I fear first thing in the morning was the onlyhour at which one could be sure of finding it!
Poor Nurse and Fanny! I should be sorry to say how many times a daythey were called upon to "tidy up."
"I've a letter from Mother," Roland announced, after Jasper, as theyoungest, had said grace for the party. "They got there all right."
"Is that all she says?" asked Chrissie, for Leila was already buried ina book which she had propped against her breakfast-cup, only moving itfrom time to time as she drank her tea. "When are they coming back?She said she'd tell us as soon as she could."
"They'd only been there a few hours when she wrote. I don't know howyou could expect her to say--you're so babyish, Chrissie," said Roland.
"Babyish," she repeated scornfully, "_I_ know what Mummy said betterthan you do. I'll write and ask her to tell me, not you."
Roland by this time had got out the letter and was reading it again.
"As it happens," he said, good-naturedly enough, though his tone wasdecidedly "superior," "she does say something about it, and somethingelse that I don't understand," and the boy's face clouded a little.
"She seems very bothered," he replied doubtfully, still fingering thesheet of paper. "I think both she and Dad were pretty worried beforethey left."
"Well," said Chrissie, "I suppose they had to be. I suppose they had tocare for Uncle Percy. P'raps he was nicer before he got so deaf. Idon't see that Mums need have gone, though."
"She's coming back as soon as she can," Roland went on. "On Monday,most likely. Dad will have to stay there, and she has to come back todo a lot of business things for him here, and then she says she'llexplain that Dad and she are very worried, and she hopes we'll all bevery good while they're away, and that we must help her to be verybrave. 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 toher elder sister.
"Leila," she exclaimed, "don't you hear? Leave off reading, you selfishthing."
"Miss Leila," Nurse joined in, "you know your Mamma has forbidden you toread at meals."
Leila looked up at last.
"What are you all chattering about?" she said, and she pushed her bookto 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 thelittle volume.
"I'll put it down for you," he said, clambering off his chair as hespoke, and Leila, who, to tell the truth, had got to the end of achapter, made no objection.
"What are you all chattering about?" she repeated, though without givingany one; a chance of replying she turned to Nurse complaining that hertea was quite cold.
"How could it be anything else," said Chrissie. "You let it stand whileyou 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 Leilacontented herself with saying--
"I only ask to be left in peace. I don't call that half as selfish asperpetually teasing and worrying everybody, as you do, Chrissie," and awar of words was on the point of beginning had not her curiositysuddenly changed her ideas. "What's the matter?" she went on, "I'veasked 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 wedon't know what she means, and--"
"Chrissie," interrupted Roland in his turn, but certainly with moreright 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 wassomething the matter."
"Is that all?" said Leila. "I daresay it's nothing much. P'raps shesaid `brave' by mistake for `cheerful,' for I suppose Dads is rather cutup about old uncle, though really we can't be expected to mind much."
In this sentiment apparently both Roland