Part 23 (2/2)

”As clean as you can make it? Have you not a servant, my dear?”

”Oh no; we do not keep a servant.”

”Then I expect my work is cut out for me,” said Jasper, who was thoroughly good-natured, and had taken an immense fancy to Sylvia.

”Please,” said the girl earnestly, ”you must not attempt to make the place look the least bit better; if you do, father will find out, and then--”

”Find out!” said Jasper. ”If I were you, you poor little thing, I would let him. But there! I am in, and possession is everything. I have brought my supper with me, and I thought maybe you would not mind sharing it. I have it in this basket. This basket contains what I require for the night and our supper as well. I pay you twenty s.h.i.+llings a week, and buy my own coals, so I suppose at night at least I may have a big fire.”

Here Jasper went to a large, old-fas.h.i.+oned wooden hod, and taking big lumps of coal, put them on the fire. It blazed right merrily, and the heat filled the room. Sylvia stole close to it and stretched out her thin, white hands for the warmth.

”How delicious!” she said.

”You poor girl! Can you spend the rest of the evening with me?”

”I must go to father. But, do you know, he has prohibited anything but bread for supper.”

”What!”

”He does not want it himself, and he says that I can do with bread. Oh, I could if there were enough bread!”

”You poor, poor child! Why, it was Providence which sent me all the way from Tasmania to make you comfortable and to save the bit of life in your body.”

”Oh, I cannot-I cannot!” said Sylvia. Her composure gave way; she sank into a chair and burst into tears.

”You cannot what, you poor child?”

”Take everything from you. I-I am a lady. In reality we are rich-yes, quite rich-only father has a craze, and he won't spend money. He h.o.a.rds instead of spending. It began in mother's lifetime, and he has got worse and worse and worse. They say it is in the family, and his father had it, and his father before him. When father was young he was extravagant, and people thought that he would never inherit the craze of a miser; but it has grown with his middle life, and if mother were alive now she would not know him.”

”And you are the sufferer, you poor lamb!”

”Yes; I get very hungry at times.”

”But, my dear, with twenty s.h.i.+llings a week you need not be hungry.”

”Oh no. I cannot realize it. But I have to be careful; father must not see any difference.”

”We will have our meals here,” said Jasper.

”But we must not light a fire by day,” said the girl.

”Never mind; I can manage. Are there not such things as spirit-lamps? Oh yes, I am a born cook. Now then, go away, my dear; have your meal of bread with your father, say good-night to him, and then slip back to me.”

Sylvia ran off almost joyfully. In about an hour she returned. During that time Jasper had contrived to make a considerable change in the room. The warmth of the fire filled every corner now the thick curtains at the window looked almost cheerful; the heavy door tightly shut allowed no cold air to penetrate. On the little table she had spread a white cloth, and now that table was graced by a great jug of steaming chocolate, a loaf of crisp white bread, and a little pat of b.u.t.ter; and besides these things there were a small tongue and a tiny pot of jam.

”Things look better, don't they?” said Jasper. ”And now, my dearie, you shall not only eat in this room, but you shall sleep in that warm bed in which I have just put my own favorite hot-water bag.”

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