Part 2 (1/2)
”Thing! how dare you!” cried Tommy, pummelling her uncle's leg.
”I meant a thing of beauty, my dear,” said he meekly, ”which, as the poet says, is a joy for ever.”
”He wouldn't think me a joy for long, I can tell you,” returned Tommy.
”But, really, it's too ridiculous. Bess, you don't want to get married?”
”Not for a living, certainly,” said Elizabeth.
”Of course not,” added Mary.
”Well, that's squashed,” cried Tommy, ”and if you can't think of anything better, Captain Barton--why, you're not married yourself!”
”No, my dear, I've never tried,” replied her uncle apologetically.
”Well, now, there's that notion I mentioned a while ago--a little cottage by the sea, you know; we four--me and the three Graces, eh?”
”It would be simply awful, Uncle,” cried Tommy. ”Whatever should we do all day? We should all become perfect cats, and you'd have a simply horrid time. No, if you want us to live with you, you must take a house somewhere where we could work--earn our salt, you know. I'm not going to be a burden to anybody.”
”That's a fine spirit, to be sure. Then it must be London, I suppose, Deptford way or Rotherhithe; one of you could keep house for me, and the others could go to cla.s.ses, and learn teaching or whatever it is you want to do. What do you think of that, now?”
”I should love to keep house for you, Uncle,” said Elizabeth.
”And Mary and I would love to do the other thing, wouldn't we, Mary?”
cried Tommy. ”So it's settled, and you'd better advertise for a house at once, Uncle.”
”Steady, my dear. As I told you, I must make one more voyage. I've a heap of things to settle up in various parts, and it'll be at least a year before I'm ready. The question is, what can you do for a year?
You can't remain here, and I'm not going to set you up in London without me to look after you.”
”Why not? We'd look after each other,” said Tommy.
”Couldn't think of it, my dear,” said the Captain decisively. ”It's a facer, that's the truth.”
”I know what!” cried Tommy, suddenly starting up. ”Take us with you!”
”What?” gasped her uncle.
”I mean it. Let's all go for a voyage. I'd love to go round the world.”
”Nonsense! A parcel of girls in my windjammer with their frills and furbelows--I never heard of such a thing! Ridiculous! Entirely out of the question!”
”Why? I don't see it,” persisted Tommy. ”Now, Captain Barton, don't be a stick-in-the-mud, but give us reasons.”
”My dear, it can't be done,” said the Captain emphatically.
”Of course it can't, you haven't got any,” said Tommy, wilfully misunderstanding him. ”Just like a man!”
”We should really like it, Uncle,” said Elizabeth.
”Can't be done, Bess,” he repeated.
”But why, Uncle?” asked Mary.