Part 18 (1/2)

Conversation lagged. Betty at the lower end of the table, had a good deal to say to Caroline, but it was all said in whispers.

When, however, the suet pudding with treacle had made its round the child demanded some dessert, and her mother, forgetful for the moment, gave her permission to carry round a silver basket from the sideboard, in which grapes and pears and other delightful fruits were cl.u.s.tered together in picturesque fas.h.i.+on.

”She is learning to be useful, you see, Violet,” Camilla observed plaintively.

But Mrs. Horace Lancing was looking at the dessert through her blue-tinted gla.s.ses.

”Peaches!” she said, her tone a mixture of satisfaction and hostile criticism.

Camilla bit her lips, and was thankful that she had locked away her tradesmen's books with her letters and intimate papers.

”Take care, Betty, my sweetheart,” she said, and then she explained as the child cautiously carried her burden from one to another. ”A present,” she said, ”Mr. Haverford often sends me fruit; it is so good of him; such things are much appreciated by us.”

”Mr. Haverford,” repeated her sister-in-law, ”who is he? I don't know his name.”

”He's a dear,” Betty responded before her mother could speak. ”I 'dore Mr. Haverford! I wish he lived with us.... I tell you what,” continued Betty, her eyes glistening, her little voice clear and high, ”I wish he'd come and sleep with us, mumsy ... that would be really, really fun! I'm sure he wouldn't snore like nurse does, and I know he'd tell us a lot of stories. Oh, here is Baby! Come along, ducksie, and have a bit of Betty's appy....” Betty was always maternal with her little sister.

After luncheon the two children were ranged in front of Mrs. Horace Lancing, who interrogated them with a nervous manner and in the unnatural voice that some people think necessary to affect with children. Betty resented her questions and was mute, and she in her turn resented, as she always did, the little creatures' dainty appearance.

They only wore overalls of brown holland, but no home scissors had cut the holland, and, like their mother, they had already attained the art of giving distinction to the most ordinary garments.

Mrs. Brenton had discreetly withdrawn, and Caroline would have gone too, but a pleading look from Camilla restrained her.

She stood in the background, feeling amused rather than uncomfortable as Mrs. Horace, failing in conversational efforts, scanned the two small figures critically through her gla.s.ses.

”Don't you think you ought to have Marian's hair cut?” she queried. ”It is so bad for little children to have such long hair. And I think Elizabeth is looking very thin,” was her verdict on Betty. ”Camilla, do you give her maltine or anything nouris.h.i.+ng?”

Camilla knelt down and took both her children in her arms; surrept.i.tiously she kissed her baby's bright curls.

”Now, darlings, kiss Aunt Violet, and run away. Miss Graniger, I think it must be another walk, it is such a lovely day, but please come in quite early.”

The two little persons disappeared with a right good will, and as the sisters-in-law were left alone they heard sounds of laughter and singing, signs of joy at freedom, from the staircase beyond.

”I am very lucky to have such a nice governess,” Camilla said.

Mrs. Horace said--

”Yes; but I always think these sort of persons want such a lot of looking after. I never would have a governess. Mabel went to school very early. I suppose you have good references with that girl? To me she looks too young,” she said the next moment; ”and Elizabeth needs to be in such careful hands. She is intelligent, of course, but her manner is rather pert.... But then I suppose you never attempt to correct her, Camilla?”

”I was never slapped when I was a child, so I don't know how to slap other people,” said Camilla.

She drew up a stool in front of the fire, and sat down on it.

She was perfectly well aware that something disagreeable was coming, and she ranged herself to meet it with resignation.

”I have no doubt,” she added, with a little laugh, ”that it would have been an excellent thing for me if daddy had spanked me now and then; but, dear old soul, he couldn't hurt any living creature, much less me.

When I was naughty he gave me chocolates instead of the whip; but, on the whole, I was a fairly good child. I have a theory, you know, Violet, that sympathy can do far more than punishment. If Betty sees me unhappy when she is naughty, it makes her wretched; that is just how I was with daddy. Ah! well, if I had no slaps in those old days, I have plenty now!”

”I don't think you have much to grumble at,” said Violet Lancing.

Camilla looked up at her and frowned slightly, then she smiled.