Betty's Battles Part 16

"I'll wash all the ornaments and clean the pictures," says quiet Lucy.

"O Betty, may we darn up the holes in the chair-covers?" cry Jennie and Pollie, mindful of their work as Dorcas and her neighbours.

"I'll black everybody's boots," volunteers Harry. There is a general laugh at this, but Bob calls out that he needs Harry's help with the stair-carpets immediately.

So Betty has a houseful of volunteer helpers, and pretty difficult she finds it to manage them all. But she is blessed with a clear head, and, as every one is working for love, and really tries to do his or her best, a great deal of work is got through in the course of the day.

Clara comes out splendidly. "Master coming home? O miss, that _is_ news! Brighten up the house? I should think we would brighten it up, just as neat as a new pin all over."

What a topsy-turvy house it is all the rest of the day! Bob and Harry beating carpets in the back-yard as though their lives depended on it; Lucy perpetually polis.h.i.+ng gla.s.s, and was.h.i.+ng china. Jennie and Pollie busy with their needles; mother ironing in the kitchen; Clara sweeping, scrubbing, and black-leading; Betty all over the house, encouraging, directing, and doing a bit of everything by turns.

Bread and cheese for dinner, and a cup of tea at tea-time, taken in the stuffy little kitchen. Yet not a single grumble from any one--even from Bob, who _is_ a trifle particular about his meals, as a general rule!

How utterly tired out Betty is when at last she gets to bed! Tired out, but happier in her home than perhaps she has ever been before. Bustle, confusion, dust, hard work, yes; but brothers and sisters all helping each other, all working together, all eagerly looking forward to seeing dear father.

The same thing goes on all the next day, but now the confusion is fast changing into order, and when the following morning arrives--the morning of the eventful day that is to see father's return--the house is cleaner and fresher than Betty ever remembers to have seen it.

It is four o'clock in the afternoon. Bob, his hands in his pockets, is going from room to room, surveying his share in the work with great pride. Lucy is arranging a few cheap flowers in a gla.s.s, the children are all on tiptoe with excitement. Betty has gone to the hospital to fetch father home!

"There they are, mother. Quick, here's father!"

Father; crutches under his arms, one foot held away from the ground by a long sling pa.s.sing over his shoulders; but father, for all that; his eyes s.h.i.+ning with love, as his noisy boys and girls rush towards him, followed by Mrs. Langdale.

"Gently, gently, young folks, or you'll tumble father right over."

"Well, it's good to be at home again. Why, mother, how cosy everything looks. One needs to be away from home for a time, I suppose, just to find out how good it is!"

"It was all Betty's doing," cries Bob. "We all worked at the cleaning-up, but she started it."

Father sinks into the low couch. His leg is still very stiff and painful; but he smiles happily, and gazes all round with such a contented look in his kind eyes that even Mrs. Langdale is struck with it.

"Well, I declare, I do believe you were right after all. Your father does seem quite pleased with everything, and I thought he never noticed how the house looked at all!"

CHAPTER XII

LUCY

For some days after father's return Betty has eyes and ears for scarcely anyone else. To see his dear face, to listen to his dear voice, is such a true delight to her!

Then, too, his presence relieves her from a great responsibility. True, he is much too lame, as yet, to collect the rents, or to call on Mr.

Duncan; but he takes all those tiresome accounts off her hands at once.

It is as though an actual weight had been lifted from her shoulders, for she has felt the anxiety of keeping Mr. Duncan's books a heavy burden indeed.

But though Betty is deeply thankful to be rid of it all, she is beginning to realise how good this responsibility has been for her.

"I used to make such a fuss over little things," she thinks. "Why, I was quite upset if the girls came in with torn frocks, and dirty faces, or Clara did not clean the kitchen properly; worse still, I used to behave quite rudely to mother if she forgot to arrange the dinner in good time, or made me close a window when I thought it ought to be open. How irritable, how unreasonable I was! How hasty and inconsiderate!

"Ah! yes. I see now that G.o.d _had_ to send me all these worries; I couldn't learn how to bear little troubles, until I had been through big ones. Dear Captain said that in a happy home every one had his or her true place. It was certainly never my place to speak to mother as I used to do.

"Yes, I believe mother has really loved me better than I deserved. Poor mother! Her life is much duller than mine; she has never had such a friend as my dear Captain Scott; she has never been in the country to stay with darling Grannie; she has just lived on at home, year after year.

"Why, it wasn't until I spent that lovely time with Grannie that I saw how much nicer things could be made here, and now I really believe they _are_ nicer. I'm sure every one seems more cheerful lately. Jennie and Pollie have greatly improved; I'm so thankful to see that they have really taken little Minnie White as a close friend; she is a true Army Junior, and will do them a world of good.

"Harry doesn't seem _quite_ so rough, and as for Bob, well, he's a perfect dear about those violin exercises now. I'm sure that half-hour we have together over the piano is one of the sweetest in the whole day; and, really, 'Exercise No. 4' is beginning to sound quite pretty.

"The only person in the house I can't altogether make out is Lucy; she certainly isn't all a sister should be, somehow. She does her share of the work, I suppose; but I declare I know more of Bob's thoughts than I do of hers--she lives in a perfect world of her own.

"She reads too much; I never knew such a girl for reading--always over some book or other. I mean to speak to her pretty plainly about that, directly I get an opportunity."

Alas! opportunities for speaking "pretty plainly" come only too easily.

The next day is was.h.i.+ng day. Clara Jones's mother comes in to help; mother spends the whole day in the kitchen, and, of course, Betty has plenty to do.

By dint of almost superhuman exertions, Betty manages to inspire Clara and her mother with a desire to get the work cleared up before tea, instead of dawdling over the tubs until late into the evening. Her efforts are successful; by half-past four they have actually finished, and Betty looks forward to a rest, and cup of tea. She will ask Lucy to make it directly.

"Lucy!" she calls. No answer. "Where can that girl be? 'Lucy!' She must come--she ought to come; this is really too bad!"

She runs upstairs, still calling, "Lucy, Lucy!" She peeps into every room; there is no Lucy to be found.

At last a thought strikes her. "Surely she hasn't hidden herself away to read in the attic?" Betty's anger rises. Lucy is in the attic, sitting all huddled up in a chair, poring intently over a book; books, and pen and ink, on the floor beside her.

"Lucy, what on earth are you doing here? And to-day, of all days! I've been searching the whole house to find you; we all want our tea, and you are calmly amusing yourself with a book!"

"Tea? It isn't tea-time yet, is it?" stammers Lucy, her pale face flus.h.i.+ng painfully red, as she pushes her book out of Betty's sight.

"You know I always like tea early on was.h.i.+ng-day," cries Betty, still more sharply, "and I must say, I do think it most selfish and thoughtless of you to go away by yourself like this, when we are all up to our eyes in work!"

"I didn't know; I thought the was.h.i.+ng was finished," says poor Lucy, her lip beginning to quiver.

"That's nothing to do with it; we're all tired and want our tea; but you never gave that a thought; all you seem to care for is to get away by yourself to read some silly story-book. Such shocking waste of time!

Such unsociable behaviour! I only hope you are not reading novels. I am sure it looks as though you come up here sometimes because you are afraid to let father and mother know what you are doing!"

Lucy's head droops lower still, but she makes no answer.

"Well, now, _is_ it a novel?"

"No-o."

"Then let me see it at once."

"Betty, I'd rather you didn't; that is, not just now; some other day, perhaps----"

"Oh, it doesn't make any difference; whatever it is, you've no business to waste your time in this way. Do, for goodness' sake, leave books alone for a while, and attend to your work!"