A Girl in Spring Time Part 3

"And after--afterwards?"

Mardie stood with her back to her companion, as if avoiding her glance.

Her voice had a curiously tired, listless expression.

"Oh!--they dug up the ground to plant tea, and began life over again."

"But, Mardie, dear, don't be so sorry! It was terribly hard, but after all it is over, and it did not affect your own personal happiness!"

Mardie moved the ornaments on the dressing-table with nervous fingers.

"It is getting late," she said. "Put on your hat, Mildred, and let us have a stroll in the garden before it is dusk."

CHAPTER FIVE.

SUNs.h.i.+NE AGAIN!

The next day brought rea.s.suring news of Robbie, who had had a good night, and was distinctly better. Mildred was devoutly thankful; but now that the strain of anxiety was relieved, the loneliness of her position began to weigh upon her with all the old intensity. She grew tired of reading and writing letters, and the silence of the big, empty house weighed upon her spirits.

"Three days--and already it seemed like a month! Then what will a month feel like? and two months?" she asked herself in a tremor of alarm. "It is all very well for Mardie to say, 'Take one day at a time, and don't worry about the future.' She wouldn't find it so easy in my place!

Bertha might send me a letter! I didn't expect her to write the first day she was at home, but she might have managed it the second, under the circ.u.mstances!"

Miss Margaret was engaged with callers; the servants busy at their work.

Mildred was at her wits' end to know what to do with herself. She flattened her face against the window, and stared gloomily down the drive.

"Two more visitors coming to see Mardie. That means another half-hour at the least before I can go downstairs to have tea. An old lady, and a young one in a light dress, and a hat with pink roses. She doesn't look a bit nice!" p.r.o.nounced Mildred in critical spirit; "I shall dress much better than that when I am grown up. Her boots are awful!--old, shabby things beneath a grand dress. I would rather spend less on finery and have respectable feet. The old lady is as broad as she is long; her bonnet is crooked! Why doesn't the girl put it straight before they go into the house? I wouldn't allow my mother to be so untidy! She looks fearfully hot!"

Mildred stared at the old lady and her daughter until a sweep of the drive hid them from sight, and felt more lonely than ever when they had disappeared. For ten minutes or more not another soul could be seen, then the postman came briskly trotting towards the house. Mildred heard the peal of the bell, and became fired with curiosity to know whether any of the letters were for herself. Probably, almost certainly; for this was the post from the south, in which direction almost all the girls had their homes. There might be one from Bertha among the number.

How aggravating to know that they were lying in the letter-box at the present moment, and to be obliged to wait until the visitors took their departure before Mardie could come out and unlock it.

"He had five or six in his hand; some of them must be for me. Suppose now, just suppose I could have whatever I liked--what should I choose?

A letter from a lawyer to say I had come in for a fortune of a million pounds? That would be rather nice. What should I do with it, I wonder?

Mother couldn't come away with me just now, which would be a nuisance.

I think I would travel about with Mardie, and look at all the big estates that were for sale, and buy one with a tower and a beautiful big park, with deer, and peac.o.c.ks, and sun-dials on the gra.s.s. I'd go up to London to buy the furniture,--the most artistic furniture that was ever seen. The drawing-room and library should be left for Mother to arrange, but I'd finish all the rest, so that she could come the first moment it was safe. I'd have a suite of rooms for myself next to hers.

A big sitting-room,--blue,--with white wood arches over the windows; dear little bookcases fitting into the corners, and electric lights hanging like lilies from the wall. Opening out of that there would be another little room where I could amuse myself as I liked, without being so awfully tidy. I'd do wood-carving there, and painting, and sewing.

I might have a little cooking-stove in one corner to make toffee and caramels whenever I felt inclined, but I'm not quite decided about that.

It would be rather sticky, and I could always go down to the kitchen.

Then there would be my bedroom--pink,--with the sweetest little bed, with curtains draped across from one side of the top to the other side of the bottom. I saw one like that once, and it was lovely. I'd have all sorts of nice things out-of-doors, too--horses for Mother and myself to ride, and long-tailed ponies for the children. I'd like to send the little ones to boarding-schools, but I am afraid Mother wouldn't consent to that; but they could have governesses and tutors, and a school-room right at the other end of the house. I should have nothing to do with teaching them, of course. I should be called 'The Heiress of the Grange', and all the village children would bob as I pa.s.sed by. It would be rather nice. I would give them a treat in the grounds every year on my birthday, and they would drink my health. It seems a great deal of happiness for a million pounds. I wish I had someone to leave it to me--an old uncle in Australia or Africa; someone I had never seen, then I could enjoy it without feeling sorry."

The prospect of inheriting a million pounds was so engrossing that it was with quite a shock of surprise that Mildred perceived the old lady and her daughter retracing their steps down the drive. Downstairs she flew, two steps at a time, and discovered Miss Margaret emptying the letter-box of its contents.

"Oh, Mardie, I saw the postman coming, ages ago! I've been dying to get that key for the last half-hour!"

"Have you, really? I am sorry; but you are well repaid. Three letters for you, and only one for me. You are fortunate to-day."

"Bertha--Carrie--Norah!" Mildred turned over the envelopes one by one, and skipped into the drawing-room with dancing tread. "Now for a treat.

I love letters. I shall keep Bertha's to the last, and see what these other young ladies have to say for themselves."

She settled herself comfortably in an armchair, and Miss Margaret, having read her own note, watched her with an expression of expectant curiosity. The two first letters were short and obviously unexciting; the third contained several inclosures at which Mildred stared with puzzled eyes. One looked like a telegram, but the flash of fear on her face was quickly superseded by amazement, as she read the words of the message. Last of all came Bertha's own communication, and when that had been mastered the reader's cheeks were aglow, her eyes bright with excitement. She raised her head, and there was Mardie staring at her from the other end of the room, and smiling as though she knew all about it.

"Oh, Mardie, the most wonderful thing! It's from Mrs Faucit; an invitation to go and stay with them for a whole month! She has written to Mother, and here is a telegram which came in reply, saying that she is delighted to allow me to accept. I am to go at once. There is a note from Mrs Faucit as well as one from Bertha. So kind! She says they are to be at home for a month before taking the girls to Switzerland for a few weeks, and that it will be a great pleasure to have me. I wish--I wish--"

She stopped short, staring at Miss Margaret with an expression of comical penitence. Even when that lady inquired, "Well, what do you wish now, you dissatisfied child?" it was several minutes before she replied.

"Nothing; only when you have made a great fuss about a thing, and it turns out in the end that you haven't to do it after all, you feel rather--_small_. I wish now that I had been good and resigned; I should feel so much more comfortable. I suppose my going won't make any difference to you, Mardie?"

"Only this, that I shall hurry through my work as quickly as possible, and go away now instead of waiting until my sister returns. I am delighted, Mildred! it's just as nice as it can be. I have had a letter from Mrs Faucit, too. She asks you to go at once, but I am not sure if we can manage that." She hesitated, looking at her pupil with uncertain eyes. "She is so pretty, bless her!" she was saying to herself, "that she always manages to look well; but she is shabby! I should think her mother would wish her to have one or two new dresses before she goes. I must speak about it. You see, Mildred," she said aloud, "I am thinking about your clothes. You will probably be asked to a great many tennis and garden parties while you are at The Deanery, and you will have to be more particular than at school. Do you think you can go with what you have, or shall we get something new? We might call at the dressmaker's to-morrow."

Mildred shook her head.

"Oh, no! I must go as I am, Mardie, or stay at school. I wouldn't ask Mother for money just now, not for the world. There will be doctors'

bills, and a dozen extra expenses to meet, and she has a hard enough time as it is. I can buy some little things--shoes, and gloves, and a sailor hat--with the money I have: nearly twenty-five s.h.i.+llings altogether; but it is no use thinking about a dress. I shall do very well. I have the blue crepe, and the brown, and the dyed green, and this good old serge to wear with blouses. If I see people examining my clothes, I shall shake my hair all over my back, and stare as hard as I can, so that they will be obliged to turn away... If we go into town to-morrow, I could go on Wednesday, couldn't I?"

"Say Friday, dear; it will give us a little more time." For, to herself, Miss Margaret was saying: "I will engage that clever little sewing-woman to come in for a couple of days and look over her dresses.

She is quite right to consider her mother's purse, but she will feel her own shortcomings when she is among the Faucit's friends. I must do all I can to make it easier for the child. There is one comfort, she is easy to dress."

Mildred danced away to answer her friend's letter in overflowing spirits. She had never before paid a visit on her own account, and it seemed delightfully grown-up to be going to a strange house by herself.

A Deanery, too! There was something so imposing about the sound. One Deanery was worth a dozen ordinary, commonplace houses, just as Bertha was worth a hundred other friends. Dear, darling Bertha--this was her idea, of course! It took three sheets of note-paper to contain all Mildred's expressions of delight.

The next day was set apart for the shopping expedition, an occasion calling for anxious consideration. At Miss Margaret's suggestion Mildred drew out a list of the articles which she wished to purchase out of her twenty-five s.h.i.+llings of capital. It was neatly written on a sheet of note-paper, with descriptive notes attached to the various items, and red lines ruled between, so that it presented quite a superior appearance. The list ran as follows:--

New shoes (pretty ones this time,--not thick).

Slippers (with buckles).

Gloves (light and dark).

Ribbons.

Something to do up the hat.

Sashes.

Lace things for evening.

Scent.

P.F.M.

Miss Margaret read the list, and shook with laughter.

"Are you sure there is nothing else?" she inquired. "How much more do you expect from those poor twenty-five s.h.i.+llings? They can never, by any possibility, be induced to buy so much. What is the mysterious P.F.M.?"

"A necessity; can't be crossed out. Oh, dear," groaned Mildred, "what a bother it is!" She tore off half a sheet of paper this time, and did not attempt any decorations. Then she went over the items one by one, sighing heavily as she did so.

"I can't do without shoes; I can't do without slippers; I can't do without gloves. I might get silk ones, of course, but they make me feel creepy-creepy all over. I daren't touch anything when I have them on.

I should look like one of those wax figures in shop windows, with my arms sticking out on either side! I can't do without ribbons; I can't do--well, I suppose I _could_ wear the old hat as it is, and do without scent, and a sash, and laces, or any single pretty thing to put on at night, but I don't want to! They are the most interesting things...

Oh, dear, here goes!" and list number two was dashed off in disgusted haste.