CHAPTER XI
AUNT GEORGE
It would be hard for me to tell of all the joys and pleasures whichBrighton gave to the Stubbs family and to Sarah in particular. To theyounger of the Stubbs children all was joy and delight, though they hadbeen there several times before; to Miss Clark it was rest and peace,because she was not much troubled with Tom; and Flossie, too, wasallowed to go about with him and Johnnie a great deal more freely thanshe ever was at home. May--always Miss Clark's favourite--spent much ofher time beside her, though she went shopping sometimes with her mother,and also driving. But, on the whole, Mrs. Stubbs did not give up verymuch of her time just then to her children.
For Mr. Stubbs was taking his holiday, and Mr. Stubbs was troubled witha threatened fit of the gout, and do with the sound of the children'sracket and bustle he simply could not. He was often threatened with thegout, though the threatenings seldom came to anything more than temper.So, whilst they were at Brighton, Mrs. Stubbs--who was as good a wife asshe was a mother--devoted herself to him, and left the children to takecare of themselves a good deal.
Their life was naturally quite a different one to what it was in town.They had a furnished house in which they slept and took their meals, butwhich at other times they did not much affect--they had early dinnerthere, and a high tea at seven o'clock, at which they all ate likeravenous wolves, Sarah amongst the number. This was a very happy,free-and-easy meal; for, though Mr. and Mrs. Stubbs joined in the earlydinner, and called it lunch, they did not go in for the high tea butinvariably went to the Grand Hotel and had dinner there.
Oh, what happy, happy days they were! There was the early run out onthe Parade or the Sea Wall before breakfast; then the delicious seasidebreakfast, with fresh whitings every morning. There was the daily dip inthe sea, and the daily donkey ride or goat-chaise drive. There was theever new and delightful shingle, on which they played and skipped, anddug and delved to their hearts' content. There were the niggers, andthe blind man who sang to his own accompaniment on a sort of hand-organ,and wore a smart blue necktie, and a flower in his button-hole. Therewas a sweet little child, too, wearing a big sun-bonnet, whom they usedto watch for every morning, who came with toddling three-year-oldgravity with a penny for the niggers, to the infinite amusement of thebystanders.
"Here, black man."
"Thank you, my little Snowdrop," was the invariable reply of the niggerminstrel; and then the little wee "Snowdrop" would make a stately bow.The nigger would take off his hat with a bow to match it, and the littlescene was over till the morrow.
Then there was the Aquarium, and the delightful shop, which they called"The Creameries," a little way past Mutton's; and once or twice theyall, except Mr. Stubbs, went for a trip in the steamer, when Mrs. Stubbstook chief charge, and Miss Clark was so horribly ill that she thoughtshe would have died.
And once Mr. and Mrs. Stubbs went to Newhaven, and thence to Dieppe,taking Tom with them--not at all because Tom wanted to go, but becauseMay represented to her mother that neither she nor Miss Clark werefeeling very well, and that without "Pa's" restraining influence she wassure Tom would not only worry them all to death, but would also inciteFlossie into all manner of dreadful pranks, the consequences of whichmight be dire and terrible.
So Tom went with them over the water on to French soil, and Mayremarked, triumphantly, to the governess, "I've got rid of him, MissClark, so now we shall have a little peace, and enjoy ourselves."
And so they did. To be without Tom was like the enjoyment of the calmwhich comes after a storm; and they, one and all, with the exception ofFlossie, enjoyed it to the full. Flossie was very much aggrieved atbeing thus deprived of her playfellow.
"It is too bad that Tom should have to go with Pa and Ma," shecomplained. "He won't have a soul to speak to or a boy to play with, oranything, except some stupid little French boy, perhaps, who can't speaka word of anything but gibberish. I call it a beastly shame. I supposeit's old Clark's doing, and that she was just afraid Tom would get anextra good time while they were away. Nasty old cat!"
"Miss Clark had no more to do with it than you had," May replied. "Machose to take him, and that's enough."
As Tom was actually gone, there was not the smallest use in grumbling.So Flossie, thus left idle, turned her attention upon Sarah. It isneedless to say that very, very soon Flossie also began to tease her,and, in consequence, Sarah's life became more or less of a burden toher. In this way Sarah, who was a singularly uncomplaining child, creptnearer and nearer to Miss Clark and May, as there she was safe fromFlossie's taunts and jeers; and it was in this way that some notice wastaken of her by one of the great lights of the Stubbs family, Mrs.George Stubbs, the corn-factor's wife, who lived in great style atBrighton.
It happened that one morning Sarah and May were waiting for Miss Clarkto come out with the younger children, when Mrs. George came slowlyalong in a bath-chair. As she passed by them she called to the man tostop. "Dear me, is that you, May?" she remarked; "how you've grown.Your papa and mamma came to see us the other day, but I was not at home.I was out."
"They have gone over to Dieppe," said May, "and Tom with them. This isour cousin, Sarah, Aunt George."
"Oh! is it? Yes, your mamma told me when she wrote last that she wascoming to live with you. How do you do, Sarah?"
All this was uttered in a languid tone, as if, on the whole, life wastoo much trouble to be lived at all. Sarah had met with nothing of thiskind in all her life before, and looked only impressed; in truth, shelooked a good deal more impressed than she was, or rather she looked_differently_ impressed to what she was, and Mrs. George Stubbs waspleased to be a little flattered thereby.
"You must come and have tea with me," she observed graciously to May."I have not been able to get out except the day your mamma called--myunfortunate neuralgia has been so very trying. You may bring Sarah.Would you like to come to-night?
"Very much indeed, thank you, Aunt George," responded May.
"Very much indeed," echoed Sarah.
"Your cousins are, of course, all at school in Paris, and your uncle isin London, so we will have high tea at seven o'clock. Bring your musicwith you."
"Sarah plays the violin," said May, who hated playing in companyherself. "She plays it beautifully. She's going to have lessons."
"Then bring your violin and let me hear you," said Mrs. George to Sarah;"it is a most stylish instrument."
"I will," said Sarah.
"Oh, is Flossie to come, Aunt George?" asked May, as they shook hands.
"Flossie? No. I can-_not_ do with Flossie," replied Mrs. George, in atone which was enough to remind May that the very last time they hadvisited their aunt, Flossie had been clever enough to break a beautifulVenetian glass, which was, as Mrs. George had remarked pathetically overthe fragments, simply of priceless value.