Part 9 (1/2)

CHAPTER VII.

GRANDPAPA'S SECRETARY.

... ”Children are the best judges of character at first sight in the world.”--HOGG.

Grandpapa did not come down to Rosebuds again for three or four weeks.

Mrs. Munt wrote to him regularly to tell him how we were, and we, once or twice--it was she who put it in our heads, I must confess--wrote a little sc.r.a.p to put inside hers, for which he told her to thank us when he wrote back to her, but he never sent _us_ any letter.

We didn't mind his not coming, except that now and then we thought we should like to tell him of our discovery, and hear what he said about it. But we were very happy; we never cared to go out for walks, which I don't think nurse regretted; we always said we were much happier playing about. And the conservatory and the saloon became our regular haunts every, or almost every, afternoon. No one ever disturbed us--we never heard the slightest sound in the house where the big drawing-room was; indeed, for all we knew, it might not have been a house at all, but just that one large room, for the other door--the proper door of the room--was never opened. We tried it two or three times; it was always firmly locked. But still it was clear that somebody came to dust the room and the conservatory, if not every day, at least two or three times a week, for they were not allowed to get any dustier.

It was a good thing we were quiet children, not given to mischief, or rough and wild, otherwise we might have done harm in some way, such as breaking the gla.s.s in the conservatory, or spoiling the beautiful ”parquet” floor. And we certainly would have been discovered. It was partly the fear of this that made us so careful, as well as a queer fancy we had that the picture on the wall--the princess, as we still called her--watched all we did, and that she would be very vexed if we were not quite good.

”Of course,” Tib used to say, ”it's a great honour to be allowed to play in a palace, and we must show we are to be trusted.”

For after a while we got tired of our play-story about the baron and the humpback and all the rest of it, and then we pretended that we came to visit the princess in her beautiful palace, and that she was very kind to us indeed.

Sometimes we brought our books and work with us; on a rainy day we always found it difficult to get to our secret haunts, for of course we wouldn't tell stories about it, and nurse naturally didn't approve of our going out in the damp. But after a while, when nurse found that we came in quite dry, and that we never caught cold even when she left us to our own devices on a wet day, she gave up being so fidgety, and so we often did get to our palace all the same.

One Friday at last there came a letter, saying grandpapa would be down the next day and a gentleman with him.

”What a bore that he's not coming alone,” said I. ”We shan't have a word with him, and the gentleman's sure to be one of those stupid Parliamentary people that talk to grandpapa about 'the House,' and 'so-and-so's bill,' all the time.” For we had had some experience of grandpapa's friends sometimes at Ansdell, when we had come in to dessert and heard them talking. ”I wonder if they go on all day long in the 'House' about bills, Tib? There must be a fearful lot of people who never pay theirs if it takes all those clever gentlemen all their time to be settling about them in the 'House.'” We were rather proud of knowing what the ”House” meant, you see. We thought from grandpapa's being in it, that we knew all about the government things.

Tib looked rather solemn.

”I suppose it's because of the National Debt,” she said. ”It shows how careful people should be not to spend too much, doesn't it, Gussie? But I'm not sure that I care to speak to grandpapa more than usual. I'm so awfully afraid of his stopping us going to the palace.”

”_Are_ you?” said I. ”I'm not. That is to say, if I thought he'd mind it, I wouldn't go there. What I want is to _find out_ about it from him.

I have still such an idea that it has something to do with the old mystery.”

”If I thought that,” said Tib, ”I'd be far too frightened to tell him about it.”

We spent a long time that afternoon in the big drawing-room. When we were coming away, we all somehow felt a little melancholy.

”We are pretty sure not to be able to come to-morrow, and certainly not on Sunday,” said Tib, sadly. ”Dear princess,” she went on, looking at the portrait, ”you mustn't forget us if we don't come to see you for a few days. It won't be _our_ fault, you may be sure;” and really we could have fancied that the sweet face smiled at us as we turned to go.

We were playing on the lawn when grandpapa arrived the next day. Nurse had intended to have us all solemnly prepared, like the last time, but he came by an earlier train, and somehow she didn't know about it early enough, so we were all in our garden things quite comfortably messy, when we heard the sound of wheels, and looking round, saw to our astonishment that it was the dog-cart.

There was no help for it; we hadn't even time to wash our hands, and there was no use trying to get out of the way, for to have gone hurry-skurrying off as if we were ashamed would have vexed grandpapa more than anything, especially as he had a friend with him. So we marched boldly across the lawn and stood waiting, while the gentlemen got down.

”How do you do, grandpapa?” I said. ”We didn't expect you quite so soon.”

”Indeed,” said he, as he kissed us in his usual cool sort of way, ”an unwelcome surprise--eh?”

Tib got red at this, and looked as if she were going to cry. But I didn't feel inclined to be put down like that, before a stranger, too.

”No, grandpapa; it's not an unwelcome surprise, but we would have liked to have been tidier; you know we generally are _quite_ tidy when you see us.”

”For my part, I prefer to see small people when they're _not_ very tidy,” said a pleasant, hearty voice; and then the owner of it came round from the other side of the dog-cart where he had jumped down. ”You must introduce me, Mr. Ansdell, please, to my--small, I was going to say, but I'm surprised to see the word would be almost a libel--cousins.”