Part 13 (1/2)

Then they talked together of many things--of Eleanor's school-life and friends, of all that had happened at home while she was away, of all the girl hoped to do to help her mother.

”I shall be so thankful if you do not find the children too much for you,” said Mrs. Campbell. ”You see, Miss Fanshawe is excellent as a daily governess, but she could not possibly stay here altogether, on account of her invalid father; if only it is not putting too much on you, my darling,” she added anxiously.

Eleanor stooped over and kissed her mother.

”Don't fear, dear; I may make mistakes, but I shall learn. They are dear children; how funny it is how my old name for myself has clung to me! I could fancy myself a baby again when I heard that tiny Towzer calling me 'Miss Tammel.'”

”You will never get them to call you anything else,” said her mother.

”It must sound rather odd to strangers.”

”And at school I was always Eleanor! But how glad I am to be 'Miss Tammel' again. I have brought some small presents for the children,” she went on; ”books for Patty and Edith, and dolls for the three little ones and a few bon-bons--not many, but coming from Paris I thought they would expect some. There are two little boxes exactly alike for Flop and Towzer, and a rather larger one for Maggie. So there will be no excuse for squabbling.”

”No; that will be very nice. Poor Maggie,” said Mrs. Campbell; ”I fear you will find her the most troublesome. She is an 'odd' one; perhaps that has to do with it, but somehow she seems always getting into sc.r.a.pes, and I fancy the others are a little sharp on her. She has a queer temper, but she is a very clever child.”

”She is honest and truthful, however, is she not?” said Eleanor. ”I can stand anything if a child is that; but deceitfulness----” Her fair young brow contracted, and a slightly hard expression came over her face.

”I hope so,” said her mother; ”I have no reason to think otherwise. But she has an extraordinary vivid imagination, and she is curiously impressionable--the sort of child that might be worked upon to imagine what was not true.”

”Still truth is truth. There can be no excuse for a falsehood,” said Eleanor.

”Mother is too indulgent and gentle in some ways,” she thought. ”I must look after Maggie, and be firm with her.”

”But gentleness encourages truth, where severity might crush it,” said her mother softly, as if she had heard Eleanor's unspoken words.

Miss Campbell made no reply, but she pressed her mother's hand.

”And the day after to-morrow, mother dear, you will be leaving us!” she said regretfully.

”Yes, but only for a month; and now that you are here, your father and I can leave with such lightened hearts. I feel sure that the change to St.

Abbots will do me good now,” replied Mrs. Campbell cheerfully.

CHAPTER II

TO-MORROW--the first part of it at least--found the excitement scarcely less great than on the day of Miss Campbell's arrival. For there were the presents to distribute! A delightful business to all concerned, as Eleanor had invariably succeeded in choosing ”just what I wanted more than anything,” and the hugs she had again to submit to were really alarming, both as to quant.i.ty and quality. And among all the children none hugged her more than Maggie.

”It's like Santa Claus morning--goodies too,” she exclaimed, dancing about in delight.

”Don't talk nonsense, you silly child,” said Patty, who was of a prosaic and literal turn of mind. ”You wouldn't believe, Miss Campbell,” she went on, turning to her elder sister, ”would you, that Maggie last Christmas went and told Flop that Santa Claus was a real old man, and that he really came down the chimney, and poor Flop wakened in the night, quite frightened--screaming--and so mamma said Maggie was never to speak about Santa Claus again, and you _are_ doing so, Maggie,” she wound up with, virtuously.

”But it's so pretty about Santa Claus, and so funny, isn't it, Miss Campbell?” said Maggie, peering up into Eleanor's face with her bright, restless, gray-green eyes.

”Nothing can be funny or pretty that mamma tells you not to talk about, Maggie,” said Miss Campbell.

”Oh no; I know that, and I didn't mean to speak of it again. But except for that--if Flop hadn't got frightened, it would be nice, wouldn't it?

I have such a lot of fairies all my own, and I wanted Flop to have some, and she wouldn't.”

”She was very wise; and I think, Maggie, you might find some better things to amuse yourself with than such fancies,” said Eleanor rather severely.