The Bars of Iron

  CHAPTER IV

  THE MOTHER'S HELP

  "It's always the same," moaned Mrs. Lorimer. "My poor children! They'renever out of trouble." Avery stood still. She had fled to thedrawing-room to recover herself, only to find the lady of the house lyingin tears upon the sofa there. Mrs. Lorimer was very small and pathetic.She had lost all her health long before in the bearing and nurturing ofher children. Once upon a time she must have possessed the delicateprettiness that characterized her eldest daughter Jeanie, but it hadfaded long since. She was worn out now, a tired, drab little woman, withno strength left to stand against adversity. The only consolation in herlife was her love for her husband. Him she worshipped, not whollyblindly, but with a devotion that never faltered. A kind word from himwas capable of exalting her to a state of rapture that was onlyout-matched by the despair engendered by his displeasure. There was somuch of sorrow mingled with her love for her children that they couldscarcely have been regarded as a joy. In fact Avery often thought toherself how much happier she would have been without them.

  "Do sit down, Mrs. Denys!" she begged nervously, as Avery remainedmotionless in the middle of the room. "Stay with me for a little, won'tyou? I can never bear to be alone when any of the children are beingpunished. I sometimes think Pat is the worst of all. He is so highlystrung, and he loses his head. And Stephen doesn't quite understandhim, and he is so terribly severe when they rebel. And did you knowthat Ronald and Julian had been smoking again on the way back fromschool? They look so dreadfully ill, both of them. I know their fatherwill find out."

  Mrs. Lorimer's whispered words went into soft weeping. She hid her facein the cushion.

  A curious little spasm went through Avery, and for a few mad seconds shewanted to burst into heartless laughter. She conquered the impulse with adesperate effort though it left her feeling slightly hysterical.

  She moved across to the forlorn little woman and stooped over her.

  "Don't cry, dear Mrs. Lorimer!" she urged. "It doesn't do anygood. Perhaps Ronald and Julian are better by now. Shall we goupstairs and see?"

  The principle was a wrong one and she knew it, but for the life of hershe could not have resisted the temptation at that moment. She had anunholy desire to get the better of the Reverend Stephen which would notbe denied.

  Mrs. Lorimer checked her tears. "You're very kind," she murmured shakily.

  She dried her eyes and sat up. "Do you think it would be wrong to givethem a spoonful of brandy?" she asked wistfully.

  But Avery's principles were proof against this at least. "Yes, I do," shesaid. "But we can manage quite well without it. Let us go, shall we, andsee what can be done?"

  "I'm afraid I'm very wicked," sighed Mrs. Lorimer. "I'm very thankful tohave you with us, dear. I don't know what I should do without you."

  Avery's pretty mouth took an unfamiliar curve of grimness for a moment,but she banished it at once. She slipped a sustaining hand through Mrs.Lorimer's arm.

  "Thank you for saying so, though, you know, I've only been with you afortnight, and I don't feel that I have done very much to deserve suchhigh praise."

  "I don't think time has much to do with friendship," said Mrs. Lorimer,looking at her with genuine affection in her faded blue eyes. "Do youknow I became engaged to my husband before I had known him a fortnight?"

  But this was a subject upon which Avery found it difficult to express anysympathy, and she gently changed it. "You are looking very tired. Don'tyou think you could lie down for a little in your bedroom before supper?"

  "I must see the poor boys first," protested Mrs. Lorimer.

  "Yes, of course. We will go straight up, shall we?"

  She led her to the door with the words, and they went out together intothe hall. As they emerged, a sudden burst of stormy crying came from thestudy. Pat was literally howling at the top of his voice.

  His mother stopped and wrung her hands. "Oh, what is to be done? Healways cries like that. He used to as a baby--the only one of them whodid. Mrs. Denys, what shall I do? I don't think I can bear it."

  Avery drew her on towards the stairs. "My dear, come away!" she saidpractically. "You can't do anything. Interference will only make mattersworse. Let us go right up to the boys' room! Pat is sure to come updirectly."

  They went to the boys' room. It was a large attic in which the threeelder boys slept. Ronald and Julian, aged fifteen and fourteenrespectively, were both lying prostrate on their beds.

  Julian uttered a forced laugh at the sight of his mother's face. "My dearMater, for Heaven's sake don't come fussing round here! We've beensmoking some filthy cigars--little beastly Brown dared us to--and there'sbeen the devil to pay. I can't get up. My tummy won't let me."

  "Oh, Julian, why do you do it?" said Mrs. Lorimer, in great distress."You know what your father said the last time."

  She bent over him. Julian was her favourite of them all. But he turnedhis face sharply to avoid her kiss.

  "Don't, Mater! I don't feel up to it. I can't jaw either. I believe thosedashed cigars were poisoned. Hullo, Ronald, are you quieting down yet?"

  "Shut up!" growled Ronald.

  His brother laughed again sardonically. "Stick to it, my hearty! There'sa swishing in store for us. The mater always gives the show away."

  "Julian!" It was Avery's voice; she spoke with quick decision. "You'vegot exactly an hour--you and Ronald--to pull yourselves together. Don'tlie here any longer! Get up and go out! Go for a hard walk! No, of courseyou don't feel like it. But it will do you good. You want to get thathorrible stuff out of your lungs. Quick! Go now--while you can!"

  "But I can't!" declared Julian.

  "Yes, you can,--you must! You too, Ronald! Where are your coats? Pop themon and make a dash for it! You'll come back better. Perhaps you will getout of the swishing after all."

  Julian turned his head and looked at her by the light of the flaring,unshaded gas-jet. "By Jove!" he said. "You're rather a brick, Mrs.Denys."

  "Don't stop to talk!" she commanded. "Just get up and do as I say. Godown the back stairs, mind! I'll let you in again in time to get readyfor supper."

  Julian turned to his brother. "What do you say to it, Ron?"

  "Can't be done," groaned Ronald.

  "Oh yes, it can." Sheer determination sounded in Avery's response. "Getup, both of you! If it makes you ill, it can't be helped. You willneither of you get any better lying here. Come, Ronald!" She went to himbriskly. "Get up! I'll help you. There! That's the way. Splendid! Nowkeep it up! don't let yourself go again! You will feel quite differentwhen you get out into the open air."

  By words and actions she urged them, Mrs. Lorimer standing patheticallyby, till finally, fired by her energy, the two miscreants actuallymanaged to make their escape without mishap.

  She ran downstairs to see them go, returning in time to receive thewailing Pat who had been sent to bed in a state verging on hysterics.Neither she nor his mother could calm him for some time, and when atlength he was somewhat comforted one of the younger boys fell down in anadjacent room and began to cry lustily.

  Avery went to the rescue, earnestly entreating Mrs. Lorimer to go down toher room and rest. She was able to soothe the sufferer and leave him tothe care of the nurse, and she then followed Mrs. Lorimer whom she foundbathing her eyes and trying not to cry.

  So piteous a spectacle was she that Avery found further formality anabsolute impossibility. She put her arm round the little woman and beggedher not to fret.

  "No, I know it's wrong," whispered Mrs. Lorimer, yielding like a childto the kindly support. "But I can't help it sometimes. You see, I'm notvery strong--just now." She hesitated and glanced at Avery with aguilty air. "I--I haven't told him yet," she said in a lower whisperstill. "Of course I shall have to soon; but--I'm afraid you will thinkme very deceitful--I like to choose a favourable time, when thechildren are not worrying him quite so much. I don't want to--to vexhim more than I need."

  "My dear!" Avery said compassionately. And she added as she had added t
othe daughter half an hour before, "Poor little thing!"

  Mrs. Lorimer gave a feeble laugh, lifting her face. "You are a sweetgirl, Avery. I may call you that? I do hope the work won't be too muchfor you. You mustn't let me lean on you too hard."

  "You shall lean just as hard as you like," Avery said, and, bending,kissed the tired face. "I am here to be a help to you, you know. Yes, docall me Avery! I'm quite alone in the world, and it makes it feel likehome. Now you really must lie down till supper. And you are not to worryabout anything. I am sure the boys will come back much better. There! Isthat comfortable?"

  "Quite, dear, thank you. You mustn't think about me any more. Good-bye!Thank you for all your goodness to me!" Mrs. Lorimer clung to her handfor a moment. "I was always prejudiced against mothers' helps before,"she said ingenuously. "But I find you an immense comfort--an immensecomfort. You will try and stay, won't you, if you possibly can?"

  "Yes," Avery promised. "I will certainly stay--if it rests with me."

  Her lips were very firmly closed as she went out of the room and her greyeyes extremely bright. It had been a strenuous half-hour.