Part 14 (1/2)

”Children, yes, I love children. I was a pupil-teacher two years before I left school. There were some quite tiny tots with Miss Beamish. She had a large Indian connection, and also children from all parts of the world. When I left there were two dear little souls there from Barbados. I cried at leaving them,” she sighed, ”and I don't often cry,” she said.

Mrs. Brenton went on eating her breakfast, and Caroline Graniger relapsed into silence for a moment. Then, with a rush of colour to her cheeks, she said--

”But please don't let me bother you in any way, Mrs. Brenton. You have been already much too good. I dare say Mr. Haverford will arrange something for me.”

Agnes Brenton was about to answer this with some kindly words when they were startled by a sharp rap with a stick on the door, and then the door was opened and Camilla presented herself.

She was in a riding-habit, and looked slim and boyish and radiant, and extraordinarily pretty and young.

”Oh, you lazy Agnes,” she said, ”not finished breakfast yet! Look at the time--nearly ten minutes past ten, and I have been out since half-past eight.” She bent to kiss Mrs. Brenton, and then gave Caroline a smile and a little nod, as Agnes Brenton hurriedly introduced them.

”Give me something to eat, for the Lord's sake! I am positively famished,” she declared. She threw off her riding-gloves and tossed them, with her stick and her hat, on to the couch.

”Didn't you have anything before you went out?” asked Mrs. Brenton.

”Good heavens, no!” said Camilla.

She stood in front of the looking-gla.s.s and ruffled her hair becomingly.

”Sammy sent word at eight o'clock that he was coming at half-past eight. He made Dennis wake me up. There was no time for anything except a bath, and how I tumbled into these things _I_ don't know.”

She sat down opposite to Caroline, and began to eat with real enjoyment.

”I am rather glad you are breakfasting late; it is a bit of luck for me. You have no idea how lovely it was in the Park, Agnes,” she said.

”There was not a sc.r.a.p of fog. Thank goodness for that! Those two dear chickies of mine will be able to get out to-day. And oh! Agnes, another blow! Nurse came to me this morning, just as I was going out, with a doleful story about her father, or her mother, or somebody being dreadfully ill, and asking me if she might go and nurse the sick person. Isn't it too tiresome? She had only been with me a few months, but really she seemed quite a likely person. Those poor children! They do get such chopping and changing. Oh, by the way!” said Camilla, ”I think I had better send the horse away; I can go home in a hansom. May I ring the bell?”

She half rose from the table, but Caroline Graniger was quicker.

”May I take your message?” she asked. She spoke shyly. This young and very pretty woman was a new experience to her. She felt a little out of the atmosphere, and imagining swiftly that Mrs. Brenton and Mrs.

Lancing might have something to say to one another, she seized the chance of leaving them together.

”Oh, thank you!” said Camilla; ”you are very kind. Just say to the groom that Mrs. Lancing will not ride any more to-day.--Poor little soul,” said Camilla, sympathetically as the door closed, ”how miserably thin she is; she looks as if she had not had enough to eat, and you are in your proper quarter, Agnes, playing the part of the good Samaritan.

Well, now you must help _me_, my dear, because nurse is in earnest. I quite expect to find that she has gone when I get back. Why on earth do servants have parents and relations? I believe they exist on purpose to have the most mysterious diseases at the most inconvenient moments. Did you ever know a cook whose mother had not a bad leg, whatever that may be? Oh, how I hate housekeeping! I feel half inclined to live in an hotel.”

”You ought to take the children into the country,” said Mrs. Brenton in her quiet way.

Camilla ate a very good breakfast, and then looked up at her friend with a quizzical expression.

”Well, Agnes,” she said, and paused.

Mrs. Brenton just smiled.

”Well, Camilla?” she answered.

Mrs. Lancing laughed as she spread some b.u.t.ter on some toast.

”When you look straight down your nose in that fas.h.i.+on it means the wind is in a bad quarter for somebody, and I fancy that somebody is me just now.”

Agnes Brenton laughed, but only slightly, and, getting up, moved to the fireplace.