Judy of York Hill Part 15

"Seen Nancy?" she asked Jane who was rapidly consuming two large buns and an ice-cream cone.

"Gone up to her room, I think," said Jane.

Upstairs fled Judith without waiting for permission and found Nancy just leaving the "Jolly Susan."

"Oh, Nancy, I have been hunting for you everywhere."

"Oh, Judy, I was just looking for you. After what Miss Marlowe said--about our friends--I didn't want to wait another minute feeling that you were still angry with me. Do tell me what I did and let me tell you how sorry I am."

"And I was looking for you, Nancy, dear--to tell you how horrid I'd been. It was just a little thing not worth mentioning now, but I didn't wait to try to understand. Oh, Nancy, I've missed you so!"

And they kissed and were friends.

"I wouldn't teach English composition for all the world," said Miss Hilton, eyeing the big pile of sixth-form books which Miss Marlowe was attacking late that evening.

"And _I_ wouldn't take all the world _not_ to teach English composition," retorted Miss Marlowe proudly. "Besides," she added with true Irish lucidity, "it isn't English composition I'm teaching. It's Life, and it's the biggest job in the world."

CHAPTER XII

EASTER HOLIDAYS

THE last two weeks of the Easter term were a long and a hard pull. Some of the girls were spurred to study by a remembrance of the reception of the Christmas report at home; father's sarcastic remarks, and mother's distress. In Five A, which was considered a good working form, compet.i.tion was very keen, and most of the form were putting forth their best efforts to stand high in the term's examination lists. Judith coveted a first place in English literature, partly because of the joy of triumphing, partly because of the pleasure her success would give her parents, and partly because she wanted to show Miss Marlowe how much she had appreciated her cla.s.ses.

This term-end there was no distracting play to interfere with studying, and Judith had a chance to do her best. She tried to look unconcerned when on breaking-up day Form Five A stood up in Big Hall while Miss Meredith read their general proficiency list. "First, Joyce Hewson; Second, Judith Benson." There was such a buzzing in Judith's ears that she didn't hear the next few names. Second! Wouldn't Daddy be pleased!

Nancy squeezed her hand. Dear Nancy! and she wasn't even listening to hear where Nancy was placed. "Tenth, Nancy Nairn," read Miss Meredith.

"Bully for you and pretty good for me," said Nancy when they had led out of Hall.

"Congrats., Judy," said Phyllis heartily. "Joyce had better watch out next term."

Judith glowed--fancy being ahead of Phyllis. There was a crowd around the bulletin board: "The subject lists," said Phyllis excitedly, and she and Judith fairly ran down the corridor and eagerly scanned the board.

"Five A, English Literature, 1. Judith Benson, Phyllis Lovell, equal. 2.

Joyce Hewson." No need to congratulate each other, but you may be sure they did.

"It _is_ nice to get what one wants," philosophized a very happy Judith as she finished packing her suitcase. "I wonder if anything is nicer."

Aunt Nell had sent her a little note the day before telling her to ask several of the girls to tea who were staying in school for the holidays. "The first afternoon is a horrid time for the girls who are left in," she wrote; "perhaps we can save a few of them from homesickness. I'll come for you in the car at two-thirty."

Judith had a delightful time choosing her guests; Josephine and Sally May, of course--Nancy had gone home--and Florence and Joyce; but what about Genevieve Singleton? Judith knew that Genevieve was disappointed about an expected invitation for Easter week, for she had been loud in her lamentations. "I'd better ask her," thought Judith; "she doesn't know that I played detective, and she's sure to feel badly when she sees the others going; her pride'll be hurt."

So Genevieve was invited, and it was a merry little party that gathered in the front hall. They weren't going very far, to be sure, but they were going away anyhow, if it was only for the afternoon. Aunt Nell took them for a run through the park and out into the country before they went home for tea.

They had a jolly tea-party; Aunt Nell poured tea for them, supplied them with plenty of toast and m.u.f.fins, sandwiches and cake, and then very soon vanished.

"I knew they would talk more freely if I were not there," she said afterwards to Judith, "and unless things have changed very much since I was at York, I can give a pretty good guess as to what you talked about.

Confess now," as Judith blushed a little under Aunt Nell's laughing quizzical eyes, "didn't you discuss every teacher on the staff from the cut of her Sunday coat to the cut of her Monday temper? Of course you did."

And of course they had. Genevieve convulsed them by a dramatic representation of a stormy scene between herself and Madame Philippe; then Miss Evans's new evening frock, Miss Marlowe's incomprehensible taste in preferring Jane Austen to d.i.c.kens, Miss Langton's terrifying sarcasm, Miss Ashwell's sweet new sweater coat, all were discussed with an enormous amount of interest and delight.

Next day life was "flat, stale, and unprofitable." Judith didn't realize how tired she was; mentally and emotionally she had been keyed up to a very high pitch during the last two or three months and now had come the inevitable reaction. No wonder she was dull and miserable. But next morning the sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly, there was a fresh, clean-washed feeling in the air, and as Judith stood at the open cas.e.m.e.nt window in the dining-room waiting for the others to come down to breakfast, she saw to her joy that the maple trees in the garden were beginning to put out their tiny red flowers. Was spring really coming after all this dismal weather? Judith's spirits went up with a bound. Oh, if summer were only here and one could stay out-of-doors!

The others came in to breakfast; Uncle Tom buried himself in his newspaper and ate at intervals; Doris, as pretty as a picture in her pink gingham frock, began a long monologue about a dolls' tea-party she had had in a dream last night; Bobby busied himself with his porridge; Aunt Nell cooked the eggs in a little electric grill; and Judith found she had plenty to do attending to the electric toaster and her porridge at the same time. Usually Lizzie brought in a plate of hot toast and then some one at the table made additional pieces on the toaster, but this morning there was no supply to begin with.

Judith chatted happily about the plans for the week: Aunt Nell mustn't forget that she had promised to take her to do her spring shopping; Daddy had sent a cheque; she did hope there would be a letter from Nancy this morning saying that she could come for the last week-end; and did Aunt Nell remember, too, that she had invited Miss Ashwell for dinner on Thursday? Judith noticed that Aunt Nell's smile was somewhat forced. Was anything wrong? Didn't Aunt Nell want Nancy, after all? How dreadful!

She would have to ask her after breakfast.

Uncle Tom finished his breakfast with a rush and then, gathering up letters and papers, made for the hall. Aunt Nell, Bobby, and Doris were kissed good-bye, and he was gone with a great banging of doors.

Aunt Nell came back rather slowly into the dining-room, folded up Uncle Tom's table napkin, pushed back Bobby's chair and then said tersely, "Lizzie has gone."

"Gone!" said Judith stupidly; "gone where?"

"I don't know that I care very much where," said Aunt Nell; "the point is that she has gone. She gave me notice a week ago, and I've been trying desperately hard ever since to get some one else, but I've had no answers to advertis.e.m.e.nts. Lizzie just sent a note saying that she had decided to get married at once and that she and 'her friend' had gone to Buffalo for the holiday and she wouldn't be coming back here. I did think she'd stay her month, at least, after all the time she's been here--but I suppose he had a holiday and overpersuaded her. I don't feel that virtue has been rewarded either," she added ruefully, "for if I hadn't given her all of Easter Monday for herself she might be here to wash the breakfast dishes, instead of which you and I must do them."

"Instead of which _I'll_ do them Aunt Nell," Judith said laughingly.

"Dishes aren't anything. Come on, Doris, let's see how quickly we can do them. Don't worry, Aunt Nell. I'm not Lizzie, of course, but I'm just spoiling for something to do." And she gave Aunt Nell a rea.s.suring hug and kiss.

"You're a little brick, Judy--of course we'll manage. I'll 'phone for Mrs. Webster to come this morning instead of this afternoon to look after Hugh, and then you and I can do the rest."

But alack! Mrs. Webster's sister answered the 'phone--she was very sorry, her sister was in bed with tonsillitis and she had just sent for the doctor--it would be a week or two, anyway, before she could come back to look after the baby.

Here was news, indeed--Bobby and Hugh were work enough for one person at any time. Baby Hugh had a cold, and was cross and fretful because a certain tooth was reluctant about making its first appearance.

They had a busy day. Aunt Nell went out in the afternoon to try her luck at various employment agencies and Judith took the children for a walk.

She rather enjoyed it at first, but after three-year-old Bobby had demanded the repet.i.tion of the story of "The Three Bears" for the sixth time, and had fiercely resented the changing of a phrase with "Dat's not in the tory," Judith began to feel tired and cross.

Doris was very little trouble, for she was, as usual, entirely engrossed in an endless game of her own invention. She furnished each house they pa.s.sed with a large family and gave every member a name and occupation: thus the big white house at the corner where Judge Wilton lived was peopled in Doris's imagination with Mr. and Mrs. Black and their eight children, Mary and Martha, Robert and Thomas, Geoffrey and Susan, Billy and Minnie. Judith could hear her describing them. "Mary is a cook, she writes nice letters and makes lemon pies; Martha is a nice girl, she has yellow hair and blue eyes; Robert is tall and strong, he is a coachman and squints with his left eye"; and so on and so on. A few families of this size absorbed Doris's attention for hours at a time.

Judith took most comfort out of Baby Hugh; he was so sweet and so kissable, his eyes so blue and his cheeks so like wild roses that sometimes Judith felt that she would just have to take a little bite out of the adorable crease at the back of his neck.

The first of the precious two holiday weeks was gone before either Aunt Nell or Judith had accomplished any of the things they had meant to do, and the good times, especially Nancy's visit, which Judith had looked forward to with such pleasure, seemed to have vanished into thin air.

There was no doubt that Aunt Nell needed her, for there was endless dusting and dishwas.h.i.+ng to do, and some one always had to be with the children.

Judith was making gravy one evening--a task she detested--when Uncle Tom came into the kitchen looking particularly pleased with himself.

"You're late, dear," was Aunt Nell's greeting; "please hurry; I haven't had time to give Bobby his supper, he'll have to have it with us, and I'm afraid Baby isn't asleep yet."

"Hurrah, hurrah!" said Uncle Tom--very irrelevantly, Judith thought indignantly; gravy-making time was no occasion for being funny, but Uncle Tom was like that, you never knew.

"It takes a man to tackle a job," said Uncle Tom complacently as he carved the roast--"you wouldn't let me wait to tell you some good news I had brought home. Perhaps we'd better wait now until dinner is over," he continued. But of course he couldn't wait--modesty was not Uncle Tom's strong point. "Well, if you must know, as I said it takes a man to tackle a job. I just mentioned to Stewart that we were in a fix, couldn't get a cook for love or money. 'This time for love and money you can,' said Stewart. 'My wife and I are going down to Bermuda to-morrow and we didn't quite know what to do with our Chinese boy--Mrs. S. had promised to lend him to her sister, and quite suddenly her sister decided to go with us.' So there you are," finished Uncle Tom superbly--"he arrives to-morrow, tip-top cook, takes complete charge of kitchen arrangements. Not bad, eh?"

Not bad! Aunt Nell almost wept for joy. If it hadn't been that she had had to spend so much time hunting for help, the housekeeping would have been nothing, she declared stoutly to Uncle Tom later, with her head tucked under his chin. She did weep a tear or two into his favorite tie.

"Judith has been splendid, and of course we could have managed perfectly; it was the time I spent going from one bureau to another and following up this trail and the other that has tired us both."