said Hannah. "I have got to look after younow."
"But why so?" I asked.
"I had a dream in the night," she said. "Your poor mother come to me,and she said, `Don't leave my children, Hannah.' Oh dear! oh dear! sheas was killed--as was killed!"
To my amazement, Hannah burst out crying. When she cried I rushed toher and flung my arms round her neck and cried also.
"Oh, I am so glad you won't leave us!" I said. I felt like a mostterrible little martyr, and Hannah's sympathy soothed me inexpressibly.
That evening--it was Saturday--I told Alex and Charley and Von Marloabout Hannah's dream.
"Rot, I call it!" said Charley.
"Oh Charley, you are very unkind!"
"Well, I'm sure," said Charley, "why should she have been so cross anddisobliging when we really wanted somebody--when we had no sort ofmother? Now that we're going to have that jolly, fat, round woman tolook after us and to see to our comforts, Hannah is beginning to findout what her duties are."
"Things will work themselves right," said Von Marlo in his solemn way."Take my word for it, Rachel, things will shape themselves right."
I didn't think Von Marlo half so comforting as Hannah on this occasion,and I almost said so, for I felt very snappish.
That night I scarcely slept at all. To-morrow would find us with thatdetestable person in the house--"the new mamma." Of course, she wasn'tmy mamma, but the world would speak of her in that manner, just as VonMarlo had once done. He would never say those words to my face again.
I went to church on Sunday morning, accompanied by Alex and Charley. Aswe were coming back Augusta Moore rushed up to me.
"I thought you were very ill," she said. "We all thought so--MissFranklin, your form mistress, and all."
"I'm not a bit ill," I said. I did not want Augusta's sympathy, or,indeed, to say anything at all to her just then.
"Then why didn't you come to school?"
I was silent. Augusta took my hand. She pulled it through her arm.
"I think I understand," she said. "You were ill in mind; that is theworst sort of illness, isn't it?"
She glanced round at Mrs Moore, who was trotting along behind.
"Go home, mother; I'll follow you."
"You'll lose yourself, Gussie."
"Don't call me Gussie. I'll follow you."
Mrs Moore said something to me; she was quite nice and commonplace, anddid not allude to the subject of the "new mamma."
Presently Augusta and I found ourselves alone, for the boys the momentthey saw her had taken precious good care to make themselves scarce. Wewalked on slowly.
"I should like to see your house," said Augusta.
"You can if you wish to," I replied.
I took her in, and the moment she got into the hall she began to sniff.
"What is the matter?" I asked.
"Books!" she said. "Old leather! How I envy that woman!"
"What woman?"
"That commonplace person who has dared to marry your father."
"Oh well, Augusta, we had better not talk of that."
"Not talk of it? Why, it's a weight on my mind always. I only trustshe won't make him fall off. Rachel--Rachel Grant--you have a verysolemn responsibility before you."
"What is that?"
"The commonplace woman can do nothing, but you can do a great deal."
"In what way?"
"You, who are his child, must partake in some way of his nature."
"I never had the slightest influence on father," I responded. "I thinkhe often forgets that I exist. I shall certainly have less influencethan ever now."
"You have influence, but you won't use it. Oh that I were hisdaughter!"
Augusta began to sniff again. Charley came into the room at thatmoment.
"I thought dinner was served," he said.
He looked at Augusta.
"How do you do?" she said. "You are the son of the greatest of men."
"Bosh!" said Charley. He backed towards the door. "I thought," hesaid, glancing from me to Augusta, and then from Augusta to me again,"that dinner was on the table, and that you were sniffing the goodsmell."
"Books! Books!" said Augusta.
Charley vanished.
"Take me to his library," said Augusta. "Just let me walk round itonce, will you?"
"Oh yes, if you like," I replied.
I took her round. She stepped softly in veneration. She took up avolume; she seated herself on a chair; she opened it; she was lost.
"Augusta," I said.
There was not the most remote movement on her part.
"Augusta!" I said again.
Her lips quivered. She was repeating something softly under her breath.
"Come," I cried, "it is time for you to go home to your dinner, and itis time for us to eat ours. Get up! Awake!"
No stir of any sort. Violent measures were necessary. I snatched thehook from her hand, and in so doing upset the stool on which she wassitting. To have her book taken away and her seat removed from underher was sufficient to wake even Augusta Moore. She rubbed her eyes andsaid, "Where was I?"
"Where you have no right to be," I said. "You really must go."
"But you will keep him up to the mark; you will take my advice, won'tyou?"
"I tell you what," I said cheerfully; "if I can possibly manage it, Iwill introduce you to him, and you shall talk to him. If you feel thathe is so near you--so like you in all respects--you will have much moreinfluence over him than I should, and you will be able to keep him up tothe mark yourself."
The next minute I had repented of my hastily formed decision, forAugusta's long, thin arms were round my neck, and she was hugging me andkissing me on my cheeks, and then hugging me again with frantic energy.
"Oh, you dear! You love! You beautiful creature! Oh! oh! oh! Tothink of it! To think of it!"
"Dinner is served," said Charley, just poking his head round the doorand then vanishing.
At last I got rid of Augusta. When I arrived in the dining-room Charleyasked me if I had had a mad girl in the house who had broken loose froman asylum. I replied with dignity that she was a very clever girl, andthen we proceeded to our meal.
The meal itself was quite plain--the usual sort--a piece of boiled beef,carrots floating in gravy round it, and a few boiled potatoes. Thesewere to be followed by one of Hannah's apple-dumplings. Now,apple-dumplings are supposed to be very good things, but I cannot saythat Hannah's recipe was worth preserving. The pastry was always veryhard, and the apples were never done enough; in short, we were all tiredof them.
"I can't imagine why the thing that smells so jolly good doesn't comeupstairs," said Charley. "It's too bad--it's worse than bad."
"Oh no," I answered; "don't say that, Charley. Hannah is keeping it forsupper. She is going to have a surprise supper; I know it for I saw thecake."
"The cake!" cried Charley. "A cake made by Hannah?"
"Yes; and I can tell you it did smell pretty good. Oh, didn't it just!"I smacked my lips in anticipation.
"I suppose we'll have to make this do," said Alex gloomily, helpinghimself to another slice of tough beef.
Our conversation filtered away into mere nothings, then intomonosyllables; then it tailed off into utter silence. We were all verydepressed, and yet we were excited; we wanted we knew not what; we wereafraid, we could not tell of what. Each one of us had a sense thatthings could never be the same again, that we were eating our humbledinner and looking each into the humble face of the other for the lasttime. Everything from that hour forward would be different. Would thechange be for the better? No, it could not be for the better. Achange, however, we were certain was coming. We did not speak of it; wesat very still.
At last the boys said they would go for a walk; they did not ask me toaccompany them, nor did I offer to go. I ran up to my own room. I tookthe pretty dark-blue dress which Miss Grace Donnithorne had given me. Itook the jacket, the little shoes
, the stockings, all the things whichshe had showered upon me when I was at Hedgerow House, and I put theminto the trunk which she had also presented me with--the pretty trunkwhich I had been so proud of, and which bore my initials, R.G. On thetop of all the things I put a card with the words, "Returned withthanks--Rachel Grant," written upon it. This little trunk I myselfconveyed to the bedroom which had been got ready for the Professor andhis wife. There was no attempt at making this room pretty, but a hugefire burned in the grate, and that alone had a