Sweet Content Page 7

she went on, and one could see that shemeant it. "Papa, do look at those begonias--but--shouldn't we introduceourselves first?" And she gave a nice little kind sort of laugh.

  "I know who you are," I said, as I awkwardly rubbed my hands on my apronto clean them from the mould. "I--I can't shake hands--but--it's all myfault that the fire isn't lighted, and the room so messy. Mamma will bevery vexed--she's always ready as early as this to see any one."

  "We have unfortunately lost the address of the `odd man' that Dr Percywas so good as to give us, and we find ourselves sadly in want of hisservices already," said Captain Whyte. "There are one or two otherpoints we should be grateful for a little advice about, too, but thesecan wait."

  I was beginning to recover my presence of mind a little by this time,though with it, alas! an increased feeling of mortification.

  "I will fetch mamma," I began; but Captain Whyte interrupted: "Pleasedon't disturb her," he said.

  I felt more and more vexed.

  "I believe they think she's a vulgar, fussy old thing like Agnes Gale'saunt," I said to myself; "never fit to be seen till the afternoon."

  "It won't disturb her at all," I said. "Mamma is never very busy."

  And just as I spoke I heard her voice from the drawing-room.

  "Connie dear," it said, "where are you, and what's the matter with thedrawing-room?" Oh, how glad I was that she said that! "Benjamin saidsome one wanted me;" and then catching sight of figures in theconservatory, in mamma came.

  They started a little, and no wonder that they were surprised. Thanksto me, they had small reason to expect much in Mrs Percy. Never in allmy life did I feel prouder of mamma, or more grateful for her unfailingsweet temper. Just think--many a mother in such a case would have comethrough the drawing-room scolding for finding it in such a mess; hervoice would have been heard sharp and angry before she was seen. Andmany, even sweet-tempered women, would have been upset and flurried.Not so my dear little mother. She came in looking so sweet, and so neatand pretty--with just a little half-smile of amusement on her face."What is the matter, Connie dear?" she repeated, and then she caughtsight of the strangers.

  I flew to her side.

  "Mamma dear," I said--I was not often so gentle, but I was humbled foronce--"it is Captain Whyte and Miss Whyte. It is all my fault about thedrawing-room. I would not let Eliza finish it, because she was in theway when I was doing the flowers."

  Then mamma glanced at me, and I saw that she had to make some effort notto look vexed at the state I myself was in.

  "My dear child!" she exclaimed. But in an instant she was shaking handswith our visitors.

  "I am so sorry," she said.

  "Nay," Captain Whyte replied, "it is our place to apologise. I onlyventured to intrude so early--"

  But mamma interrupted him.

  "Won't you come into the dining-room?" she said; "it will be morecomfortable."

  And so it certainly was, though it was the very thing of all others Iwould have hated. I had so often mocked at the Gales for never usingtheir drawing-room except on great occasions, and always huddlingtogether in the dining-room. But our dining-room did look nice thatmorning. It was as neat as could be, and the window was a tiny bitopen, and a bright fire burning, and on a small table in the windowstood a pretty glass with one or two late roses and a trail of ivy,which mamma had just gathered in the garden outside.

  Captain Whyte walked towards the fireplace and stood on the hearthrug,talking to mamma. Miss Whyte drew nearer the window, where I followedher.

  "How sweet these late roses are," she said. "You and Mrs Percy must bevery fond of flowers."

  "Yes," I said, stupidly enough. I could see she thought me shy andawkward, and that made me still more so.

  "And what a dear garden you have," she went on, evidently anxious to setme at my ease, "just as if I had been Agnes Gale," I thought. "Ourgarden at the Yew Trees will be very nice, but I do love those walled-ingardens at the back of a house in a street. I always think there's asort of surprise about them which makes them still nicer. Do you domuch gardening yourself, Miss--no, won't you tell me your first name?"

  "Connie," I blurted out. A smile lighted up her grave little face.

  "`Connie?'" she repeated. "Oh, yes, I remember. Is that the shortfor--" but then she stopped abruptly, murmuring something about "LadyHonor;" and for the first time _she_ looked a little shy. It made mefeel pleased.

  "I suppose," I said, rather disagreeably--"I suppose Lady Honor made funof my baby name?"

  Miss Whyte looked puzzled and surprised.

  "Made fun of it," she said; "of course not. We all thought it _so_sweet--`Sweet Content,' I mean--and what Lady Honor said has made uslook forward ever so much to knowing you. I think it was a little_that_," she went on, smiling again, "that made me beg papa to bring mewith him this morning."

  How ashamed I felt! It seemed as if I were to do nothing but be ashamedthis morning--and this time with more reason. My ugly suspicions ofLady Honor _were_ something to be ashamed of. She had always been atrue and kind friend; and just because she did not flatter and spoil me,I could not trust the good old lady.

  "Oh," I began, "I didn't mean--I thought perhaps--"

  Then I stopped short. "My real name is Constantia," I went onhurriedly, "not Constance. I think Constantia prettier; don't you?"

  "It is more uncommon; it's like my name. People think mine is Eva orEvelyn, when they hear me called--"

  "Evey!" came her father's voice across the room. We both laughed.

  "Wasn't that funny?" said Evey, as she turned with a "Yes, papa."

  "Wasn't there something else rather particular, that you had to askabout, if possible, at once?" said Captain Whyte. "Mrs Percy is sokind."

  Evey went towards my mother; a very business-like expression came overher face.

  "It's about the laundress, Mrs Percy. Mother would be so glad to knowof one at once. You see there are so many of us, it's an importantconsideration. Mother will be here by Tuesday, we hope, and it would benice for her to find it arranged, and all the things sent for the week.It was one of the reasons she was sorry not to come at once herself--tosee about it."

  "I hope it was not illness that delayed Mrs Whyte's coming," saidmamma, kindly.

  "Not her own," said Captain Whyte, "but one of the boys had caughtcold--he's our delicate one--and very subject to croup. So it was saferto wait, and Evey and I came on with the three other small ones and onebig one, leaving Mary and Joss to help their mother with the invalid."

  "I am sure I can find you a nice laundress," said mamma, on which Evey'sbrow cleared.

  "And not dear?" the little girl asked--for, after all, she _was_ alittle girl, barely thirteen.

  Mamma could not help smiling. Evey was so business-like.

  "I think Mrs Whyte would find our laundress reason able," she said."Indeed, I don't think any prices about here are extortionate."

  "That is one of the recommendations of Elmwood to us," said CaptainWhyte, smiling. "But, Evey, we have really intruded on Mrs Percy toolong. Thank you so very much for your kind help."

  And he turned to go.

  "I will not forget to send Mrs Green, the washerwoman, to speak toyou," said mamma, as she shook hands with Evey.

  "Oh yes, thank you--this evening, please, if possible," the little girlreplied.

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  A LARGE FAMILY.

  After they had gone, neither mamma nor I spoke for a minute or two. Idid not quite know what to say, and I was not sorry to have some littletime to consider, while mamma quickly wrote a few words on a sheet ofpaper, which she folded and addressed to Mrs Green. Then she rang forBenjamin, and told him to take the note at once and bring back ananswer.

  "I could have taken it, mamma," I said. "Mrs Green's is so near."

  It was not often I volunteered any little service of this kind, butsomehow I had a wish to be of use to Evey Whyte, too, and I spoke in amatter-of-fact way, as if it was qui
te a usual thing for me to do.

  "Thank you, dear," said mamma. "I don't think you should go out till wesee what the day is going to be. Your cold is not quite gone yet."

  "Oh, bother!" I said, crossly. "Mamma, I wish you would not fuss so.I'm sure that little girl looks far more delicate than I, and she's out.I only wish I had gone out _quite_ early, and then they wouldn't havecome in and found everything in such a mess."

  "I mind the