Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England
JasperBy Mrs MolesworthIllustrations by Gertrude Demain HammondPublished by Macmillan and Co Ltd.This edition dated 1906.
Jasper, by Mrs Molesworth.
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________________________________________________________________________JASPER, BY MRS MOLESWORTH.
CHAPTER ONE.
"STOCKINGS."
Chrissie Fortescue sat looking at her toes. They were pretty littletoes, pink and plump and even. But she was not looking at them inadmiration. And indeed this morning they were scarcely as pretty asusual, for they were rapidly becoming blue and crimson, instead ofmerely pink, and though blue and crimson are charming colours inthemselves, they are not seen to advantage on toes.
It was wintry weather, as you will already, I daresay, have guessed, andvery cold indeed, and as the unpleasant consciousness of this madeitself felt more and more plainly, Chrissie's face grew crosser andcrosser.
"Nurse," she called out, and it was the third or fourth time that shehad done so, "Nurse, _will_ you come and put on my stockings? I amgetting quite frozen."
There was no answer for a moment or two, then Nurse's face appeared atthe door leading from, the little girls' room into the large daynursery, where the table was already neatly spread for breakfast and abright fire blazing.
"Miss Chrissie," said Nurse, remaining in the doorway, "it is no use--nouse whatever your going on calling to me like that. I have told youever so many times this morning that I won't and can't put on yourstockings for you. I promised your Mamma before she went away yesterdaythat I would not, and I cannot break my promise."
"I can't either," was Chrissie's reply, "and I've promised myself that I_won't_ put them on this morning, so there you see."
Nurse turned away with a sort of groan.
"Oh dear," she said, "it is really too bad of you. A young lady of tenbehaving like a baby. I'll come at once when you're ready for me to doyour hair, but not before. How can you behave so, and trouble in thehouse, too? Breakfast will be up directly, and Master Jasper all ready,and--" poor Nurse stopped short as she caught sight of another figure inthe room. "Miss Leila," she exclaimed, "what are you thinking of?Reading again before you've finished dressing! I heard your Mamma--"
"Oh bother, Nurse," interrupted Leila, "I didn't promise anything, soleave me alone, please. If I choose to read while I'm dressing, it's myown business."
Apparently poor Nurse was at the end of her patience, for shedisappeared into the other room, repeating reproachfully, "and troublein the house, too."
"Rubbish," said Chrissie contemptuously.
"There's no trouble in _this_ house. I didn't care much for old UnclePercy. Did you, Leila? He's been ill such a long time, and last summerat Fareham it was horrid having to be so quiet."
"I don't mind being quiet if people will leave me in peace," repliedLeila.
"No, I daresay not, with your everlasting books," Chrissie retorted;"but for all that, you needn't think yourself any better than me. Youlike books and I like playing, and we both like to do what we like andnot what we don't, and I suppose that's about all that can be said," andshe began swinging her feet defiantly.
Leila, who was getting to think that after all it would be morecomfortable to read beside the nursery fire, gave a little laugh, as shehurried on with her own dressing.
"Tastes differ," she remarked; "I shouldn't like to sit there in thecold with no shoes or stockings on. I'm going to coax Nurse to tie upmy hair in there by the fire. It _is_ cold this morning."
But Christabel sat on obstinately, though she was really beginning tofeel wretchedly frozen, and as Leila hurried past her with another wordof remonstrance, she only muttered something about "I can't break--"which her sister did not clearly catch.
Leila was a year and a half older than Chrissie, but in appearance, andin several other ways also, though different in character, they seemedmuch about the same age. They really loved each other, but, I am sorryto say, this did not prevent their quarrelling a great deal. There wasmuch truth in what Christabel had said--neither had learnt to think ofothers before herself; neither was willing to do anything she did notwish to do; neither had learnt to be obedient, or, still less,unselfish. But a great deal, oh a great, great deal of all this sadstate of things came from utter thoughtlessness, and this their motherwas growing aware of, and beginning to blame herself for not havingrealised it sooner.
"I have only wanted to make them happy," she said to herself. "Children_should_ be happy," and so they should, but are selfish people everreally happy?
The happiness that depends on outside things, on the circumstances ofour lives, on amusement and indulgence and having every wish gratified--surely that is not the best and truest and most lasting?
And sometimes this lesson has to be taught by rather severe teachers.
Silly Chrissie! She was already punishing herself by her obstinacy. Ireally would be afraid to say how long she might have sat there, growingcolder and colder, if something had not happened.
The something was a tap at the door--not from the nursery side, youunderstand, but at the other door, which opened on to the large landingoutside.
At first Chrissie took no notice of the tap.
"It's that tiresome Fanny, I suppose," she said to herself. Fanny wasthe nursery-maid. "She's no business to come bothering till we've leftthe room."
But the tap was repeated, and a voice, which was certainly not Fanny's,a soft, coaxing little voice, made itself faintly heard.
"Chrissie, Chrissie, do let me come in."
"Come in, then," was the rather ungracious reply. "What do you want,child? I'm not dressed."
The door opened and a small figure entered.
It was Jasper, the youngest of the family.
He was barely seven years old, and not tall or big for his age. Fairand slight and rather delicate-looking, and though his face was sweetand even pretty when you examined it closely, he was not the sort ofchild that is noticed or admired, as were his handsome brother andsisters.
"What do you want?" Christabel repeated. "Don't you see I'm not halfdressed?"
Jasper nodded.
"I know," he said calmly. "I'se come to help you."
In spite of her ill-humour, Chrissie began to laugh. She was a child ofvery changeable moods.
"You must be so cold," continued Jasper.
"I should rather think I was," his sister agreed. "Frozen! But you seeit can't be helped. I've made a vow that I _won't_ put on my ownstockings this morning, and I can't break a vow."
Jasper looked up at her with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
"Bad vows is better broken nor kept," he said.
Then Chrissie laughed again, and more heartily. It was a relief to her,for, to tell the truth, she was fast getting to a state in which if shehad not laughed she would have burst into tears--a sad downfall to herpride and dignity.
"What awful grammar, Japs," she said. "You really should know better atseven years old."
But Jasper took her merriment quite pleasantly: indeed he was glad ofit, and by this time he was down on his knees on the floor, softlystroking his sister's cold feet.
"What are you after now?" she said sharply.
"I'se going to put on your stockin's for you," he replied, "and then youneedn't mind about vows, 'cept that you'd better not make any more, tillit gets warmer, any way."
Christabel said nothing. In her heart she was very thankful for thisunexpected release from the silly predicament she had got herself into,and deeper down still--for in that wayward little heart of hers therewere better things than she allowed herself to be conscious of--she wasreally touched by her
small brother's kindness. So she said nothing,but watched him with some amusement as he cleverly drew on thestockings--toes first, then heels, sighing a little as he got to thelong legs, so that Chrissie at this stage condescended to give a pull ortwo herself. And at last the task was triumphantly accomplished, andshe stood upright and slipped the now clothed toes into the shoes lyingin readiness.
"You'd better be a boy at a boot-shop, Japs," she remarked. "You're soclever."
Jasper looked up with great gratification at this rather meagreacknowledgment of his services. And then, somehow, the sight of hisflushed face and smiling eyes