Part 12 (1/2)

It happened that the trustees were both bachelors, who understood the management of a large and expensive household just about as well as they sympathised with the desire for social prominence. Therefore, they believed themselves to be doing a really generous and almost unheard-of action when they agreed to allow Mrs. Stubbs three hundred a year out of the proceeds of the business. ”And the lad will have his pound a week,”

they said to one another, as a further proof of their consideration for their old friend's widow.

But to Mrs. Stubbs it seemed as if the future was all so black that she could not even see where she was to get food for herself and her children. Poor soul! she had forgotten what the old friends of her dead husband remembered only too well--the days when she had run up and down stairs after her mother's lodgers, of whom poor John Stubbs was one. On the whole, it is pretty certain that we rise much more easily than we fall. We find climbing up much easier than we find slipping down. And Mrs. Stubbs had got so used to spending twice three thousand a year, that to her a descent to three hundred seemed but very little better than the workhouse.

”A nice little 'ouse at Fulham!” she exclaimed, when Flossie tried to paint such a home in glowing colours. ”You know I never could a-bear little 'ouses. Besides, 'ow am I to get them all into a nice little 'ouse? There's Sarah and me----”

”Oh, Sarah first, of course!” snapped Flossie.

”For shame, Flossie; you seem as if you don't know how to be mean enough to Sarah. I said 'er name first because she's my right 'and just now, and I lean on her for everything. There's Sarah and me, and Tom and Johnnie, and there's Minnie, and Janey, and Lily--that's seven. 'Ow am I to put seven of us away in what you call a nice little 'ouse?”

”Why, you'll have five bedrooms,” Flossie cried.

”And where are the servants to go?” Mrs. Stubbs demanded. ”Oh, I suppose I'm to do without a servant at all!”

”Well, I shouldn't think you'll want more than one,” returned Flossie, who had six.

Mrs. Stubbs rocked herself to and fro in the depth of her misery and despair.

”And what's to become of me when Lily comes of age?” she cried.

For, by Mr. Stubbs's will, the business was to be carried on for the benefit of his children until the youngest should come of age, when the two boys were to have it as partners.

He had believed his wife and children were safely provided for out of his property, which had nothing to do with the business, of which Mrs.

Stubbs was to take half absolutely, and the other half was to go equally among the children. Every penny of this had, however, been swallowed up by the losses which had in reality killed him; so that, though there was a provision for the children, Mrs. Stubbs was, except through the favour of the trustees, absolutely unprovided for.

”Oh, well, it's a good long time till then,” Flossie returned coldly.

”And really, Ma, I do think it's ungrateful of you to make such a fuss, when things might be so different. Just supposing, now, May and I weren't married; you might grumble then.”

”I 'aven't as much,” Mrs. Stubbs cried, ”to bring up five children on as you and May each 'ave to dress on.”

”Perhaps not; but then, we have to go into a great deal of society; and look what that costs,” Flossie retorted. ”Any way, Mr. Jones is too much disgusted at all this happening just now to let me help you. And as for my allowance, I have to pay my maid out of it, so I really don't see that you can expect me to do anything for you.”

”I don't think Auntie wants you to do anything for her; I'm sure she doesn't expect it,” put in Sarah, who was so utterly disgusted that she could keep silence no longer, though she had determined not to speak at all.

”Well, Sarah, I really can't see what occasion there is for you to put your word in,” said Mrs. Jones, with an air of dignity. ”We have heard a great deal about what you were going to do; perhaps now you will do it, and let us see whether the princess is going to turn out a real princess after all or not.”

For a moment Sarah looked at her with such utter disdain in her grey eyes that the redoubtable Flossie fairly quailed beneath her gaze.

”I am going always to treat my dear aunt with the respect and love she deserves, Flossie,” she said gravely; ”and, even if I prove an utter failure in every other way, you might still take a lesson from me with great improvement to yourself.”

”Oh, you think so, do you?” sneered Flossie.

”Yes, I do,” said Sarah promptly.

”Then let me tell you, Miss Sarah Gray, that I think your tone and manner exceedingly impertinent and familiar. In future, call me Mrs.

Jones, if you please, and try if you can remember to keep your place.”

”Mrs. Jones, I will; and do you remember to keep yours,” Sarah replied; ”and do you remember, too, that you need not insult my aunt any further.”