A City Schoolgirl and Her Friends

'It belongs to one of them; the other is getting hers, a piece at a time, as you suggest,' said Stella.

'She'll be a sensible young lady. What are they like?' continued Mrs. Morrison.

Vava left Stella to describe their new house-mates, and also to talk things over with Mrs. Morrison, who had a great deal to tell her and ask her, and ran off to see Doreen, who was rewarded for her patience by Vava's delight.

'I'm just so happy I don't know what to do!' she cried, her eyes shining and her cheeks so rosy that Mrs. Hackney felt as if the sea-breezes could very well be done without.

'She is a nice old woman, your old nurse,' said Doreen.

'She's not old; she's only middle-aged. – And she says – at least Stella says – I am to thank you for all your kindness, and nursie is very grateful to you too,' said Vava to Mrs. Hackney.

'She is a treasure, and I am very glad you have her. Thank you for coming in Vava; and now run and have your breakfast; you ought to have a fine appetite for it after all this excitement, especially as you did not have much breakfast before you started, I expect,' said Mrs. Hackney.

'We did not have any. Our landlady said she could not get breakfasts at that unearthly hour, as she should not be up herself, so we just had some biscuits, and I am hungry. But, oh I am glad to have said good-bye to those horrid lodgings!' cried Vava with feeling.

'You have much to be thankful for,' observed Mrs. Hackney.

'Yes, and I am thankful,' said Vava simply. Then she went back to her new home, and found Stella, Amy, and Eva in the kitchen, talking happily to Mrs. Morrison, who quite approved of the two strangers, and was inclined to take them to her motherly heart when she found that they were orphans like her own bairns, and had been well brought up, and were well-mannered young ladies. Then the four went in to breakfast.

'What about your presentiment now?' cried Vava, turning to Eva, who had quite recovered her good spirits.

'It has come to pass. I said something was going to happen, and you see it has. Fancy your old nurse being here without your knowing anything about it!' cried Eva.

'You said you had a bad presentiment about something having gone wrong, and nursie's coming is not wrong at all; it has put things right,' persisted Vava.

'Oh well, I haven't got any presentiment now, so it's all right,' declared Eva.

'And presentiments are very foolish things,' said Stella rather primly.

The breakfast was a very good one. Mrs. Morrison had made porridge and hot scones, and had brought honey with her from the north, and the girls sat over their meal a long time, forgetting the work they had before them, until Amy started up, saying, 'We had better begin putting up the curtains and getting the rooms ready. My bedroom is chaos, and Eva's is not much better.'

Stella had noticed that Amy was very quiet during breakfast, and it occurred to her that perhaps the girl was disturbed at the arrival of Mrs. Morrison. It made it look as if the house and the ordering of it were to be entirely Stella's, whereas it had been arranged that she and Amy should share in the management. So, leaving Vava with Eva to clear away, she followed Amy to her room, which did indeed look chaotic.

Amy had bought a nice bed and a chest of drawers and washstand of light oak, very simple but quite pretty, and these, with one chair and some boxes and pictures, were all her furniture.

'We shall soon make this look pretty; and, if you will use it, there is an extra arm-chair which they have sent down from Lomore that I should like you to have,' said the Scotch girl.

'Thank you, I should like it very much, if you can spare it; but you must value anything that comes from your old home,' replied Amy, who seemed a little depressed.

'Yes, that is why it is such a pleasure to have Mrs. Morrison with us; she is almost like a mother to us. She was with my mother before she was married. I hope you don't mind her coming?' asked Stella.

'Mind? I am delighted; I like her already, and I don't mind saying that I was rather dreading the housekeeping and managing. It is all very well when you have nothing else to do, but it is difficult to do two things well. My City work gets rather heavy in spring, and I am often not home till late, and then I am too tired to do anything but sit quietly by the fire and read a book.'

'You will like her the more the more you know her,' said Stella, much relieved; and then added, 'I thought something had vexed you.'

'Oh it had nothing at all to do with Mrs. Morrison; it was only Eva's suite; but it's no use talking about it, or to her. The thing is done, and something has come over Eva lately; she is not a bit like what she used to be. I have been hoping that Vava would do her good; but they don't seem to get on quite as well as I hoped,' replied Amy.

'Vava is a little too outspoken, but I hope they will be friends; I think she will have a good influence over Eva, because she is so very frank. I am sorry you don't like the furniture Eva has bought. Is it very gimcrack?' inquired Stella.

'Gimcrack! I only wish it were; it's far too handsome. I don't know how much she paid for it, but it can't have cost less than twenty pounds at the least!' exclaimed Amy.

'Shall we go and look at it?' suggested Stella, who was curious to see this much-talked-of furniture, and the two went into Eva's room, where they found Vava admiring herself in the three cheval glasses of the wardrobe.

'Look, Stella, isn't this a lovely idea, and isn't it a lovely suite?' cried Vava, twisting and turning herself.

'Yes, it is very handsome,' said Stella, and said no more, and then, after a few polite remarks about the pictures, which Eva was just hanging, she left the room, and was followed by Amy.

'How on earth did the man give it her, and where do you think she has got it?' demanded Amy when they were back in her bedroom.

'I don't know. I am afraid it is a very expensive suite; but it is no good worrying about it. It seems so dreadful that a girl of sixteen should have no one to look after her, no near relation, and no guardian, except yourself, and you are only a friend, after all, and have no authority over her. We must just be as friendly as we can to her, and try and win her confidence, and if she won't give it, wait until the man turns up for his money, which he will soon do if she does not pay up.'

'Then he will remove it, and that will disgrace us all!' cried Amy.

'No, indeed, he will not; I shall not allow anything of that kind,' declared Stella with decision.

And then, though 'Eva's suite' was often in their minds, they dismissed the subject from their conversation, and started upon the putting in order of the new house.

CHAPTER XVI.

VAVA'S BUSINESS LETTER

Eva's presentiment was already a thing of the past, for she was the merriest of the four, and the day would not have been half such fun nor have passed so pleasantly and easily if she had not made a joke of all difficulties, and helped by her suggestions, which were very shrewd, in spite of their being mixed up with a great deal of nonsense.

Mrs. Morrison had made the Misses Whartons' large bedroom habitable, and in a very short time it was pronounced quite comfortable for the present; so there really were only the hall and staircase to arrange, about which Eva had numerous theories, which she propounded sitting on the top stair in an apron made of newspapers.

'Leave half a yard at each end for moving the stair-carpet up and down every week,' she observed.

'That is a very good idea, if we have enough,' replied Amy.

'If not, you must put mats at the turnings of the stair; it's most important; also, you must put a pad on each step, then you feel as if you were sinking into velvet,' came from Eva, still sitting at her ease and surveying the workers.

'What kind of pad?' asked Stella, who with Amy was laying the stair-carpet.

'Velvet,' said Eva, absent-mindedly.

'What nonsense, Eva! What do you mean?' demanded Amy.

Eva, who had been looking out of the staircase window, turned her head. 'I wasn't thinking of what I was saying – felt, I mean – or, failing that, folds of newspapers, and by so doing you double the life of your carpet,' she explained.

'Then, suppose you go and get that pile of newspapers that came from Scotland, and fold them into pads, instead of sitting there coolly and watching us work?' suggested her friend.

'I might, for a consideration,' agreed Eva, and help she did with such good-will that the house was quite comfortable by night.

Mrs. Morrison kept to her kitchen, and sent in a nice dinner, for which Vava laid the table, having spent her morning flitting in and out of the kitchen, helping 'nursie,' as she imagined, and it is doubtful which of them was the happier – the old Scotchwoman, who had her bairns with her again, or the child, who obeyed her old nurse more willingly than her elder sister.

'Vava, the post has just brought this. I wish you would sit down and answer it politely, and say that I am obliged by his kind offer, but that I shall be at the office on Monday morning at the usual time,' said Stella, coming into the kitchen with an open letter in her hand, which she handed to her younger sister.

Vava took it, and found that it was a very polite letter from the junior partner, saying, that as he understood they were moving and would be busy for a few days, he would be glad for her to take a holiday, and thought they would manage without her till Wednesday. 'He is kind, and I'm sure I don't know why, for you never smile at him, and till you do smile you really look disagreeable,' commented Vava.

'I am sorry, but I shall continue to look disagreeable then, for I have no intention of smiling at Mr. James Jones, or any other stranger with whom I have business,' observed Stella.

'Why don't you answer it yourself? It's got nothing to do with me,' grumbled Vava.

'Because I am busy; you can tell him that,' said Stella; who might have added, 'Because I do not choose to,' but she refrained.

'My lamb, you should not answer your sister as you do,' said Mrs. Morrison, when Stella had left the kitchen, her head very much in the air.

'She aggravates me with her airs and unfriendliness,' said Vava in an apologetic tone.

'And who are you to criticise your elders in that unbecoming way? What do you know of the world? Miss Stella is quite right not to be too friendly with strangers and to keep her bonny smiles for friends; and even if she were not right, it is not for you to question her doings or sayings, and she your guardian,' protested her old nurse with decision.

'She is not so very old after all – only seven years older than I am; last year she was an infant in the eye of the law,' announced the girl, who had read this piece of information somewhere.

'She is of age this year, at any rate, Miss Vava, and you had better do as she bids you; she knows what she is about, and you will understand it better in seven years' time – seven years make a great difference in a young girl; so write that letter like a good child, and don't worry Miss Stella, who has plenty to do without fashing herself about letter-writing,' admonished Mrs. Morrison.

'But you know, nursie, this is a business letter, and he is the man she gets her living by; she really might be civil to him. Suppose he gets offended and tells her to go? That would be a nice thing, just after we have got into a new house!' exclaimed Vava.

'If he is a business man he'll not be so silly as to be offended because a young lady isn't too friendly; and if he is so foolish, the sooner she leaves his office and gets with sensible people the better. That will do for those currants, Miss Vava, they are quite clean now, and I'll make the pudding while you write that letter. You'll find paper and stamps and all in the bureau in the sitting-room,' said nurse.

Vava went off as she was told, and found that nurse had 'found up' a quantity of writing-paper and envelopes at Lomore, as well as stamps, all of which she had packed into the bureau and brought south with her, besides other treasures, the looking over which took Vava some time. But at last she set to work to write the letter; and, being very much excited by all the events of the day, she took a large sheet of paper, and wrote a long letter to the junior partner, which was likely to amuse him very much. It ran as follows:

'Dear Mr. Jones, – Thank you very much for offering to give my sister a holiday. She says to tell you she is very busy putting down the stair-carpet, so can't answer herself; but she will be quite able to come to the office on Monday morning at the usual time. She did not say she was putting down the stair-carpet, but she is; it's a horrid work, as you have to pad it. When I 'm rich I'll have workmen to do all that when I move house, and never go near it till it's quite tidy. I can't find a single thing.

'The other Joneses who have bought Lomore (I hope they are no relation of yours) have been very kind; they have sent down all the furniture of Stella's sitting-room, and lots and lots of things that they must want themselves, and I'm sorry I called them "horrid;" they have been very friendly to us, and even brought us to town in their motor. I only said that because I felt horrid at that moment to think of an English Jones being Laird of Lomore. Oh dear! I forgot your name was Jones; but I would not mind your being laird so much, you look a great deal more like one than old Mr. Montague Jones. But our old nurse, whom we found here this morning, says he has been very good to all the old servants, and is not turning out one, or changing anything; so things might have been worse. I must stop and help to put the house in order. – I remain, your sincere friend, Vava Wharton.

'P.S.– Please be sensible, and don't mind Stella being so stiff and stuck-up; it's being poor that makes her like that, and I'm sure she's grateful to you, really. V. W.'

Now, Vava was a very open child; but it never entered her head that she ought not to have written a letter like that to Mr. James Jones, nor that her sister would expect to see it. 'Nursie' had said that there were stamps there, and evidently meant her to write, close, and post the letter, so as to save Stella trouble, and this she accordingly did, as there happened to be a pillar-box just outside the front-gate.

Stella, who was still putting down the stair-carpet, heard the gate click, and observed, 'Oh dear, I hope that nobody is coming; they can't come through the hall.'

'No, it is only Vava; she is posting a letter,' replied Eva, who from the top stair, where she was folding newspapers to form pads, could see the front-gate and road.

Stella stopped abruptly in her work. 'I wouldn't' – she began; and then, dropping the hammer, she continued, 'I will be back in a minute, Miss Overall; I just want to speak to Vava,' and went into the sitting-room to await her sister.

Vava saw her through the bay-window, and went in to her, saying cheerfully, 'I've written the letter and posted it and everything.'

'Why did you not show it to me first?' demanded Stella.

'Why should I? I never thought of it. Besides, you never read my letters; you always say you trust me,' said Vava.

'So I do; but you do sometimes say things you had better not have said, and as this is my business I think you should have brought the letter to me. What did you say in it?'

Upon reflection, Vava was not sure that she wanted to tell Stella what she had written, and upon further reflection she began to doubt whether she ought to have written it. 'I told him you thanked him for his offer of holiday, and that you were busy putting down the stair-carpet, so had told me to write, and that you would be there on Monday at the usual time. That's all I said about you – I mean about your business. The rest of the letter was just a friendly one from myself,' she said.

This was just what Stella was afraid of, and she exclaimed, 'I never told you to say what I was doing.'

'I told him that,' interrupted Vava.

Stella was speechless for a moment; then she continued, in a tone of exasperation, 'Will you please tell me what you did say, Vava?'

'It's got nothing to do with you. Mr. Jones has been very kind to me, and I just wrote him a friendly letter; but it sounds silly repeated. Don't bother about it, Stella; if you were so particular about the letter you should have written it yourself,' retorted Vava.

'I wish I had – I wish to goodness I had!' she exclaimed, and went out of the room.

Vava felt rather uncomfortable for a time; and then, saying to herself that Stella made a great fuss about nothing, she went off to the kitchen to help Mrs. Morrison to prepare tea for them.

Stella seemed to have forgotten her annoyance when she came in to tea, for she was laughing heartily; but when Vava asked her if she were tired, she said, 'No,' very coldly, and addressed no more conversation to her.

Vava consequently talked to Eva; but this kind of thing could not go on, and after tea, when she found herself with Mrs. Morrison, she unburdened herself to her old nurse. 'And you see, nursie, I don't know what to do. If I don't tell Stella she will be horrid and cold with me; and if I do tell her she will be frightfully annoyed,' she explained.

But Mrs. Morrison would not sympathise with her. 'You ought not to write letters you do not wish your sister to see; you have done very wrong, and must go and tell Miss Stella so at once, and if she is angry and scolds you you must bear it,' she said decidedly.

'There was no harm in what I said, and – and, nursie, I simply can't tell Stella!' cried Vava, as her postscript came into her mind.

Mrs. Morrison looked at her gravely. 'What did you say, my lamb? Tell me,' she inquired.

Vava told her, as well as she could remember, all that she had said in the letter.

A grim look of amusement came over the good woman's face; but she turned away and poked the fire to prevent Vava seeing it, and when she turned round again she was quite grave as she replied, with a shake of her head, 'You should not have said that about Mr. Montague Jones being "horrid," you let your pen run on too fast, and you should not have written that bit about Miss Stella, and you may well say that she will be annoyed. But for all that, you must tell her what was in the letter, and it will be a lesson to you to mind what you write in future.'

Vava groaned, but went off obediently and told Stella, who listened in silence till she came to the postscript, whereat she gave an exclamation; but all she said when Vava had finished was, 'I am glad you told me, for I think I can prevent Mr. Jones getting that letter. I was so busy this morning that I forgot that to-day was Saturday, and that consequently the letter would not arrive any sooner than myself on Monday morning; so that you need not have written at all.'

'But, Stella, what will you do? You can't take away a letter addressed to Mr. Jones. The clerks may tell him how many there were, and he would miss it,' protested Vava.

'I have no intention of touching Mr. Jones's correspondence without his knowledge; but, as I get there before him, I shall ask him not to open that particular letter, and I shall tell him why,' replied Stella.

'Then he might as well read it!' cried Vava.

'I shall not tell him what you said,' replied Stella; and as she had evidently made up her mind on the subject, Vava said no more, but she wished with all her heart that she had never written the unfortunate letter.

However, Stella was friends with her again, and the first day at Heather Road ended happily enough; for, tired though they were, the four girls were able to go to bed in a tidy house, with carpets, curtains, and furniture in their proper places, which was really a comfortable home again.

CHAPTER XVII.

A SUNDAY AT HEATHER ROAD

'Stella! Stella! wake up! the sun is shining, and I can see a tree, and hear birds singing, and I feel so happy that I really must get up, although it is Sunday morning and we have not to go off to the City!' cried Vava the next morning.

Stella opened her eyes and looked at her sister, smiling. 'One might almost be in the country – everything looks so fresh and clean; we must try and keep it so, and help nursie as much as we can, for she is not used to much housework,' she replied.

'I don't mind how much I do to save her as long as we can have her with us. I think I had better get up and light the fire for her; I dare say she will be tired this morning,' observed Vava, sitting up in bed.

There was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Morrison, bearing a tray, came into the room with a cheery, 'Good-morning, young leddies!'

'Oh nursie, I meant to light the fire and get breakfast ready for you!' cried Vava.

'What would you do that for? I am not tired; it's you that must be worn-out, so here's your breakfasts for you, and you can just stay where you are for a while, and get up in time for the kirk, which is not far off, I hear,' replied Mrs. Morrison, unfolding their table-napkins, and waiting on them as she used to do when they were children.

Suddenly Vava exclaimed, 'Nursie, I must get up; the others will be hungry too!'

'And why will they be hungry, when they are eating their breakfasts quite comfortably?' inquired the good woman quietly.

'That is good of you, nursie; but you must not wait upon us strong people!' protested Stella.

'That's only for to-day, because you are all just worn-out, and I knew you would oversleep yourselves. Next week I'll be obliged if you will just make your own beds and tidy your own rooms a bit,' nurse answered.

'Have we overslept ourselves?' inquired Stella; and, taking out her watch, she exclaimed with surprise, 'A quarter to nine! How could we have slept so late?'

'I expect it's the quiet after the noise of Westminster and the exciting day we had yesterday,' said Vava, who was enjoying her breakfast in bed.

It was a very happy day. Stella, Vava, and Mrs. Morrison went to their own church, and Amy went to hers alone, for Eva was not up.

When Eva came down to dinner she said with a yawn, 'You are energetic, you good people; I hope you feel better for having been to church; you looked most frightfully righteous coming in with large prayer-books in your hands. For my part, I think one can be just as religious without ever going to church at all.'

'Perhaps, but I think if one can go to church one should, and I do feel better for having been this morning,' said Stella quietly.

When she found herself alone with Amy she asked her whether Eva really never went to church.

Amy looked worried as she replied, 'I am afraid she has got into bad habits lately. She says she is tired on Sunday mornings, and that it is the only day she can rest, and that she does not notice that people are any the better for going; in fact, she says, they generally come back cross and complaining of the heat or cold of the church or the length of the sermon.'

'That's the kind of things people always say when they want to defend themselves for not going to church. But if she is tired in the morning, surely she can go in the evening?' suggested Stella.

'Perhaps you will be able to persuade her; I cannot,' responded Amy.

But Stella shook her head. 'I shall not try; I do not believe in arguing about such things. We must try by our own example to make her see that churchgoing does make us feel better. I know it made me feel ashamed of my discontent these last three months. I have hated my life here and every one around me; and I certainly don't deserve things to have turned out so well,' she said humbly.

'And the funny part of it is that Eva has really been the person to bring it about, and – I don't like saying so – she managed to twist what I said, and what you said, so as to make us each believe that the one was quite willing for the move and was only kept back by the other,' observed Amy, who had resented this management when she found it out.

'It has happened to answer in this case, but it does not generally answer, and I am sorry for her sake that she has succeeded in getting her way by rather crooked means,' said Stella.

The girls had yet to learn that 'the mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small,' and that the experiment which had started in so promising a manner might turn out a failure, and that Eva had time yet to repent of her 'clever management.' At present, however, everything was couleur de rose, and after tea they all sat round the fire in the Whartons' sitting-room, while Stella played hymns on her piano, and Eva, who had a very pretty voice, joined in very heartily, to Mrs. Morrison's delight.