The Carroll Girls Part 11

"I have been thinking," said Miss Charlotte, laying down her pen and coming to sit by Esther, "I have been thinking over our plans, dear, and I have come to the conclusion that I might superintend your studies myself, for a time at any rate."

Esther looked up quickly, her pleasure showing in her eyes. "Oh, that _would_ be nice, Cousin Charlotte," she cried. "I do want to learn so much, but--but you have such a lot to do already, and we are _very_ backward, and I am so--so stupid."

"I don't think you are that, dear," said Miss Charlotte gently, and her words, quiet though they were, brought deep pleasure to Esther.

"I think we might manage it," she went on cheerfully. "Of course I have many calls on my time, and I shall not be able to give you all the attention I should like to; but we can but do our best, and this seems the best plan I can think of. I cannot very well manage to have a governess to you, and there is no school nearer than Gorley, and that is not only four miles away, but a school I do not approve of. So, at any rate, we will try this plan for the present."

Esther got up and stood by Miss Charlotte, her colour coming and going, her fingers playing nervously with her pinafore. "I--I think you are too good to us, Cousin Charlotte," she said huskily, speechless almost with nervousness, but determined to say something of what was in her heart.

"I--I don't know how to thank you, but I _do_ want to, and--and--"

Cousin Charlotte's arm was round her, drawing her to her. "We can never be _too_ good to one another, dear; and what are we here for but to help each other over hard places, to try to make each other's lives easier?

I am only thankful to have this opportunity of doing good. I was growing narrow and selfish all by myself. I think you were sent to rouse me."

"Oh, Cousin Charlotte, I want to help too," cried Esther wistfully.

"I do want to be useful, but I don't know how. Will you tell me?

Nothing ever seems to happen to me; I never get a chance of helping people."

"Opportunities, small or great, occur every day, dear," said Miss Charlotte; "it is the little opportunity we must look out for, the small things that we must do. Big ones come sometimes, but little ones every day; if you look for them you will find them. We will help each other, dear. Now we will say good-night. You are tired with your long day in the open air. We will not begin lessons until Monday, there will be so much else to do and arrange. Good-night, my love," and with a warm kiss they parted.

Esther went up to her room with a great glow of happiness at her heart.

For the first time in her life she had met some one who understood her; at least, some one who could draw out the good side of her, and not the bad. Esther did not understand what it was, but she felt a difference, and she undressed and said her prayers with Cousin Charlotte's words still ringing in her ears: "We can never be _too_ good to one another, dear; and what are we here for but to help each other over hard places?"

She prayed very especially that she might be shown how to do her share in helping others. Like Poppy, she lay down, determined to think and think, hoping that perhaps by morning she would have thought of some way of helping Cousin Charlotte; and, more successful than Poppy, before even she fell asleep an idea had come. Quite suddenly there came back to her Miss Ashe's remark, that 'it was not convenient then to have a governess.'

"It must be on account of the expense," thought Esther, with sudden inspiration. "She talked of getting another servant; but I am sure, if she can't afford a governess she can't afford a servant; and I do believe we could do without one, if I helped quite a lot, as I did at home.

And I can. I did all right there. I will ask her to let me try.

Oh!"--enthusiastically, as the idea took a firmer hold on her--"I _hope_ she will. She _must_--and I am sure Anna would be glad."

Too excited and pleased to sleep, Esther slipped from her bed, crept to the window, and looked out. A bright moon lighted up the moor opposite and the river below, until she could see the old brown boulders quite plainly; birds called to each other across the distance, and far away a cow lowed monotonously for its calf. Esther stood and gazed and listened with uplifted heart, yearning for something, she knew not what, something higher and better to be and do.

"Oh, I am so glad we came here!" she murmured, "so glad! I am sure it will be easy to be good here, and I do so want to be good! I wish I hadn't been so horrid to mother sometimes, and--and now I can't ever be anything else, to her." And there came back to her mind her mother's words, "I am sure your Aunt Julia would not have Esther if she knew how bad her temper had become," and her eyes filled with tears at the recollection.

"I will try," she whispered. "I will try that no one else shall ever say that of me--and I will write to mother, and tell her I am sorry."

And it was a very grave and serious Esther who fell asleep at last.

CHAPTER VIII.

When Esther awoke the next morning, she wondered for a moment why she felt so happy and light-hearted. Then memory returned. She recollected the talk of last night, Cousin Charlotte's kiss, and the plan for Monday. She would begin to learn at last! But even greater was her joy at the other thought--her own plan to help Miss Charlotte. She could hardly lie still when she thought of all she meant to do. She would dust, and tidy and sweep, and sew, and polish the furniture, and she even pictured herself making bread and cleaning windows.

She longed to be dressed, and beginning already. She sat up in bed and looked across at Poppy. She wanted to tell her and the others all the news, but Poppy was sleeping in the most aggravatingly persistent way.

Too impatient to wait for her to wake, she slipped out of bed and crept along the corridor, past Miss Charlotte's room, to Penelope's.

Angela was asleep, but Penelope lay awake reading.

"What is that you are reading?" asked Esther, eyeing the red-covered book with a sort of feeling that it was familiar to her.

"Oh, it's only _The Invasion of the Crimea_," said Penelope, withdrawing her eyes almost reluctantly from the page.

"I didn't know you were going on with it," said Esther, a touch of resentment in her voice. She did not like to feel that Penelope was more persevering than she herself, and had outstripped her. She was conscious in her inmost heart that she had not been sorry when the readings were broken off; the history did not interest her. At the same time it mortified her a little that it did interest Penelope.

"It's awfully exciting," said Penelope. "Of course I have to skip some, I can't understand it, but here and there it's lovely."

Esther's first fresh joyful feeling was a little dashed, but as it came back to her mind what it was that she wanted to say, she recovered herself. "In a few days I shall be learning properly," she thought, and then Penelope would not outstrip her.

"Listen to me," she said eagerly, as she perched herself on the foot of Penelope's bed. Angela stirred, and catching sight of Esther, was wide awake in a moment.

"What is it?" she demanded. "Has anything happened?"

"Listen," said Esther again, "both of you. I want to tell you about our schooling. Cousin Charlotte stopped me last night as I was going to bed, to have a talk; it was about our lessons. We are to begin on Monday."

"Where are we going?" asked Penelope. "There isn't any school here, is there?"

"No, Cousin Charlotte is going to teach us herself. Isn't it good of her?"

"I am sure I shall never learn. She will be shocked at me," said Angela nervously. "She doesn't know how backward I am. Fancy me, nine years old, and not able to read yet. I shall be ashamed to look, and there she will be all day long. I would rather go somewhere where I could get away when lessons are over."

"Don't be silly," said Esther. But Angela had only expressed something of her own feeling.

Penelope was sitting up in bed now, her eyes alight. "How jolly," she said, half absently. Then in low, eager tones, "I wonder if she will let us learn just what we want to? I don't want to learn grammar and sums.

I want to know about people, and wars, and battles, and revolutions, and I want to learn French and music and to sing. When I grow up I should like to be able to sing and play _very_ well. I would rather do that than anything. I wonder if Cousin Charlotte would let me learn?"

Esther looked up in mild disapproval of Pen's enthusiasm. It worried her when her sisters showed any unusual traits, or expressed desires that differed from her own. Penelope very often worried her in that way.

Poppy too, at times. She felt a twinge of jealousy always that the idea had not first come to her, and of resentment that they should have tastes apart from her.

"I don't suppose Cousin Charlotte would if she could," she said coldly.

"Of course you must learn grammar, and history, and geography, and all those things first. Every one has to learn them."

Penelope looked disappointed, but she was not one to worry.

"Perhaps before long I shall be able to do both," she said cheerfully.

"I wish Cousin Charlotte had an organ. I do want to be able to play the organ."

Esther grew impatient; these things seemed so trifling and useless compared with what she had in her mind. "I think you ought to try and think how you can help Cousin Charlotte instead of giving her more to do."

"That's just it," persisted Penelope. "If I only knew how to play well, I could be an organist, and teach people, too, and earn quite a lot of money."

"Not for years and years," said Esther, in a very crus.h.i.+ng manner.

"And we ought to begin to help at once. I'll tell you what I am going to do--I thought of it last night when I was in bed; it is not nonsense, but something very sensible. I am going to ask Cousin Charlotte to let me help Anna; I can do a lot if I have some big ap.r.o.ns like Anna's, and big white sleeves to go over my frocks. I know Cousin Charlotte and Anna don't want to have a strange servant in; she would cost a lot, and Anna wouldn't like her in the kitchen--and I could save all that."

"And I could help too," cried Angela excitedly. She was a born housewife, and all her tastes lay in that direction. "I can dust, and clean silver, and all sorts of things--"

"I am going to do all that," said Esther loftily, resenting at once any encroachment on her domain. "You can keep Poppy out of mischief, and play with her. I can do the hard work, if you will only be good and keep out of harm."

Angela's face and spirits fell. She did so love to do real work, it was so much more interesting than play; and keeping out of harm was not a bit interesting--it was very dull and stupid, in fact. But Angela was used to disappointments; besides which experience had already taught her that if she waited patiently she could often find little things to do, little ways of helping, that others forgot, or did not care about, so she said no more, but waited. "When I am older, perhaps I'll be able to do the things I like," she very often said to herself, by way of encouragement.

Esther crept back to her room and to her bed, and lay there impatiently, waiting to be called. The minutes seemed endless, and Anna so slow in coming!