Anxious Audrey

  CHAPTER IV.

  Audrey had already unpacked a book for her father, a soft down cushion forher mother, and a pretty pinafore for Baby Joan.

  "This is for--oh no, this is a pair of shoes for Debby--oh Debby, Debby,how dare you!" Audrey's face and voice and manner changed in a flash fromsweet graciousness to hot anger. "Just look at the mess you have made,and your heel is on the brim of my best hat. Oh, how clumsy you are!"

  Deborah was sitting right in the middle of Audrey's bed, and Tom onFaith's. Faith herself sat on the floor, gazing entranced at her sister'spretty belongings. In one hand she held a smart new patent leather shoe,in the other a pretty bedroom slipper. "What is Debby doing?" she askedabsently. "Oh, Audrey, you have three--no, four pairs of house shoes!How----"

  But Audrey was not in the mood to listen to a recital of her ownblessings. "Deborah couldn't sit on a chair, or the floor, but mustactually clamber on to my bed, with her boots on too! Just look at themess she has made my white quilt in! It--it looks as though it had beenslept on by--by a muddy dog."

  Faith, roused by the wrath in her sister's voice, put aside the shoes, andlooked up. "Debby," she said reprovingly, "you shouldn't. You knowAudrey wants the bed to put her things on. Why couldn't you sit on thefloor beside me?"

  "I couldn't see all the things when I was down so low," explained Deborah,in an aggrieved voice.

  "I have a good mind not to give you your presents at all," stormed Audrey."I am sure granny wouldn't wish me to, if she knew how naughty you were."

  "I don't want your old presents, you can keep them yourself," retortedDebby hotly, scrambling off the bed hurriedly, and dragging off acollection of gloves and laces with her. Her face was red and angry too,but tears were very near the surface.

  Faith held out her arm, "Come and sit beside me, dear, and we will put onyour new shoes, to see if they fit."

  "I don't care if they fit or not, I don't want them! I wouldn't wear themif they did. Audrey had better keep them for herself--disagreeable oldthing," and Debby, mortified and indignant, marched out of the room,banging the door behind her.

  Faith's face grew troubled. The child had been so happy a moment before."She did not know," she murmured apologetically. "She didn't know she wasdoing wrong, they always sit on my bed. Tom, you had better come off, myquilt is a clean one too."

  In the silence that followed, Audrey grew uncomfortable. They had allbeen so excited and happy a moment before, and now the room was full ofgloom. No one took any further interest in her box and what it contained.She knew that she had been only right and Debby very naughty, thatchildren with dusty boots should not sit in the middle of clean whitequilts; but perhaps she could have spoken more gently. The children didnot know they were doing wrong.

  Tom swung himself off the bed, and marched towards the door.Audrey looked at his stormy face nervously. "This is for you," she said,holding a tempting-looking parcel towards him.

  For a moment he hesitated, evidently unwilling to accept it from her,but his better instincts prevailed. "Thank you," he said, but coldly, andlaying it down without looking at it, he turned to Faith. "I am going tolook for Debby," he said, and went out of the room.

  "What dreadful tempers!" Audrey, mortified by Tom's snub, grew angryagain. "They ought to be sent away to school, to a very strict school.They would be taught, then, how to behave themselves!"

  "They aren't really bad," pleaded Faith wistfully. "I think they werehurt, you see Debby didn't know she was naughty, and--and they hardly knowyou yet. They would not mind so much if they did."

  "Well, I think their tempers are dreadful, and their manners too."In her annoyance Audrey could not help speaking out the hard thoughts thatwere in her heart.

  "All red-haired people have hot tempers, they say," quoted Faith quietly,"I know I have."

  "Oh, well, I am glad I haven't."

  "You! oh!" Faith glanced up at her sister with a comical little smile,but she said no more.

  "This is yours," said Audrey glumly, dragging a large parcel from her box."It is a blue coat like mine. Granny thought you might want one."

  "Want one! I should think I did!" Faith sprang to her feet in a tumultof excitement. "Oh, Audrey, I haven't had a new coat for three years, andmine is so shabby and so small for me. How kind of granny to send me sucha beautiful present. I wish she was here now. I do so want to thankher!"

  Audrey stared at her sister, wide-eyed with astonishment. Not had a newcoat for three years! Why, that was nearly as long as she herself hadbeen away, and she had had one every winter and summer. Poor Faith!no wonder she looked so shabby. It was not entirely from her owncarelessness then.

  But Faith, blissfully unconscious of the thoughts passing through hersister's mind, had torn off the wrapper from the parcel, and was alreadyslipping her arm into her new treasure. "Doesn't it look nice," shecried, pirouetting before the glass. "I must go and show it to mother andfather, and the children," and she danced away to her mother's room, andeven to the kitchen to show Mary.

  Audrey remained where she was, gazing thoughtfully down into her trunk.She suddenly felt ashamed that she should possess so much, while Faith,who worked so hard, possessed so little. She thought of all the dresseslying in her box at that moment, the soft grey cashmere, the dark blueserge, the green tweed, the new blue muslin, and the cotton ones, white,blue, and green.

  "I wish my dresses would fit Faith. I would give her one--unless she hasenough already--and I don't suppose she has." She was still standing inthe same spot, and still thinking, when Faith danced into the room again.

  "Oh, Audrey, they all think it beautiful, and daddy says he hopes I willbe able to have a new hat this summer." Then catching sight of hersister's grave face. "How are you getting on? Can you find room for allyour things? You can have all my pegs but one--one will be enough forme."

  "Haven't you many frocks?" asked Audrey. She spoke a little gruffly,but it was from shyness, and the thought of what she was about to do.

  "I have this one," said Faith cheerfully, "this is my best--and an old oneI wear in the mornings. I was to have had a new one, but the roof had tobe mended, and it cost an awful lot. I wish this skirt was blue insteadof brown, it would look so nice with my new blue coat, wouldn't it?"

  "I have a blue skirt that you can have. I have two, a blue serge and ablue cloth. You shall have the blue cloth, it is rather short for me,so it ought to do nicely for you."

  Faith could hardly believe her ears. "Oh, Audrey!" she gasped, "do youreally mean it; but why should you give up your things? You may wantthem, and I don't mind being shabbier than you are. I don't really.You see the eldest is always the best-dressed."

  "But I mind," cried Audrey. "I can't go about nicely dressed, and youin--in rags almost."

  She did not mean to speak ungraciously, she did not mean exactly what herwords conveyed, she was embarrassed by Faith's overwhelming gratitude,and her exaggerated idea of her--Audrey's--generosity. Something made herfeel mean and petty. "You can wear your own blouses with it, so therewill be no trouble about the fit."

  "I shall be able to have a new blouse soon," said Faith blithely."I am saving up to get some muslin. Miss Babbs has got some new in.Oh, it is so pretty, and only sixpence a yard. It will only take threeyards, and when I have got it, Miss Babbs says she will cut it out for me,and help me make it. Isn't it kind of her! I have a shilling towardsit."

  "Oh!" Audrey made a dart at the bed where her bag, and a host of otherthings, lay in the utmost confusion. "I had quite forgotten," she said,diving in the bag for her purse, "granny sent half-a-crown to you, and ashilling each to Debby and Tom."

  Faith's eyes grew rounder than ever. "I never knew such a lovely day asthis. Why, it is like a very nice birthday!" she cried, overwhelmed withhappiness. "Oh, Audrey, I can get my muslin now, and--and perhaps I canmake my blouse by Sunday! Will you come to Miss Babbs' with me to-morrowto choose it?"

  Miss Babbs' shop was
of the useful kind so often met with in villages.The kind of shop where you seem able to buy everything that is needed,and many that are pretty, such as the blouse muslin on which Faith had sether heart. She was so afraid that it would be gone before she could getsome of it, that she rushed off as soon as breakfast was over, carryingthe greater part of her family with her.

  "I would have liked that white one with the blue spots," she said, eyeingthat particular roll wistfully, "but it would always be needing washing."

  "Why don't you have this," suggested Audrey, pointing to a dark blue witha spot on it of the same colour, "with little white cuffs and a collar; itwould look awfully well with your blue coat and skirt."

  "Oh, so it would," cried Faith eagerly, "please give me three yards ofthat, Miss Babbs. What good taste you have, Audrey! Other people alwayschoose prettier things for me than I should choose for myself."

  Deborah pulled at her sleeve anxiously. "Fay--Fay, I want to getsomething for mother," she whispered in a tone that could be heard allover the shop, "and I want to get something for daddy, and Joan, andMary."

  "Oh!" said Faith, and forgot all about her own purchases. "You must getsomething for yourself too, darling."

  "I don't want anything--look Fay! wouldn't Mary like a pair of those?"Her eyes were riveted on a boxful of cotton gloves, bright yellow, black,and white, marked fourpence three-farthings.

  "She'd love a pair," said Faith with conviction. "She would like a yellowpair to wear with her new brown frock." She wished it was as easy to findsomething for all the others.

  "Joan would like a ball, and mother--oh, why not get mother some oranges.She is so fond of fruit."

  Debby was gazing enraptured at a shelf of china with a view on each piece."Oh, Fay, I would like to give daddy a cup and saucer, may I?"

  "Of course, darling, if you have money enough; he would like it ever somuch." But the cups and saucers cost eightpence, and Debby's means wouldnot run to that.

  Tom came to her rescue, "I know, we will get it for daddy between us,that'll be fourpence each, you shall give him the cup if you like, Deb."

  "No, I shan't," said Debby decisively, "we'll give half a cup and half asaucer each. Let me see, fourpence and fourpence three-farthings isnearly ninepence, a penny for Joan's ball, that only leavestwopence-farthing for mummy. Do you think she will feel hurt?" turning agrave face to Faith.

  "Hurt! of course not!"

  "I know," shouted Tom, "I'll save on Mary. I'll get her two sticks ofpeppermint rock, she loves it--then I'll be able to get a mug for mother,then if you give her oranges, and father doesn't have anything but his cupand saucer, that'll be about fair."

  "I know what we'll do," said Debby, after long and deep thinking."We'll put our things together, shall we, Tom? and not say which is fromwhich."

  Coming out of the shop nearly an hour later, with their arms full ofparcels, they ran almost into the arms of a tall grey-haired gentleman.Debby gave a shout of delight. "Dr. Gray, oh, Dr. Gray," she criedexcitedly, "I've spent a whole shilling, but look what a lot of thingsI've got." In her efforts to try and hug them and him too, she droppedsome of them.

  "I see you have bought a ball for someone," he laughed, rescuing it fromthe gutter. "Is that for me?"

  "For you!" Debby chuckled hilariously at first, then her face grewsuddenly serious. She had not bought anything for this lifelong friend,and she felt mean. "Would you like one," she asked anxiously, "'cause youshall have it, if you would!"

  "Bless the child!" cried the doctor, picking her up unceremoniously andkissing her. "I haven't time for play. You give it to the lucky personyou bought it for."

  "That's Joan."

  "Very well. When I want a game and have time, I will come up and playwith Joan. What else have you got there?"

  "Oranges for mother--oranges and a ball aren't easy to carry together, andI've got gloves for Mary, and a cup for daddy--at least, _we_ have, me andTom."

  "My eye! you have been making Miss Babbs' fortune this morning! Where isthe cup? In the crown of your hat?"

  "No, forchinately Faith is carrying that, or it would have been broken."

  "That is fortunate indeed." At the mention of Faith, the doctor turned tothe elder sisters. "Ah, Miss Audrey," he cried, clasping her hand warmly,"it is nice to see you home again! I began to think you had deserted usfor good. But you have come back at last to look after them all!Well they needed an elder sister's help; it was time you came."

  Audrey smiled and blushed prettily. "I want to be useful," she said, andgenuinely meant it. "When I have been here a little while I shall knowbetter what I can do."

  She mistook the doctor's meaning. She did not realise that he meant thather mother needed companionship and care; and Faith some help with theheavy burden which weighed down her young shoulders. She thought hereferred to the house and the garden, and the muddle which reigned inboth. And she walked home with her head held high. People should soonsee that she, at any rate, knew how things should be done.

  "Debby," she said sharply, as they passed through the garden on their wayhome. "When you have taken in your parcels do come out and pick up thatold hat, and those dreadful old dolls, and carry them all up to your ownroom. They make the garden look dreadfully untidy."

  Debby stood still in the path, her oranges dropping one by one, unheeded,through the bottom of the bag. Those dreadful old dolls! She couldscarcely believe her ears. Her precious babies, her Dorothy, and Gladysand Dinah Isabella, called 'dreadful old dolls.' The colour mounted inher cheeks, and the tears in her eyes.

  "They are not old!" she cried indignantly, "and they are not--notdreadful--they are lovely, they are darlings, and they have _got_ to stayout of doors, they have been ill."

  "Rubbish!" snapped Audrey irritably. "You don't care in the least howuntidy you make the place look. I wonder you aren't ashamed for anyone tocome here." She did not see, nor would she have cared if she had seen,the quivering of Debby's lips, the hurt feeling in her eyes.

  Faith was torn two ways; full of pity for her little sister she yet feltshe must uphold the authority of the eldest one. "Debby dear," she said,"your old hat, at any rate, oughtn't to be lying here, and just think howhorrid it will be if slugs and snails get into it. It is time your dollscame in and had a bath, isn't it? They have been out all night.Tom, pick up that paper, will you, dear? You know daddy dislikes to seepaper lying about."

  "I forgot," said Tom, "we were playing shops when daddy called out andasked if we would like to go to the station."

  "But that was yesterday," said Audrey coldly, "I saw it lying there when Icame, it looked dreadful, it caught my eye at once. There has been plentyof time to pick it up since, and you should have done it."

  The look of sullen rebellion came again to Tom's face. "Daddy didn't tellme to, or Faith. I suppose Audrey thinks she can boss us as much as shelikes," he whispered angrily to Debby, "'cause she is the eldest.I wish she had stayed at granny's for ever and ever."

  Faith walked on at her sister's side, looking grave and troubled.From time to time she glanced with anxious eyes at Audrey's face.She could see that she was annoyed, and irritated.

  "I--I expect we seem rather untidy to you, after granny's," she remarkedat last. She spoke apologetically, yet she was longing for a word ofunderstanding sympathy. "With mother's illness, and--and little children,and no nurse to look after them, it has been so difficult to keep it allnice."

  But Audrey only gave a snort of contempt. She had no sympathy to offer."Nice!" she said sarcastically; "from the look of the place I shouldn'thave thought anyone had tried. It is more like a pigsty than anythingelse. And the children haven't any manners at all," she added, quitelosing sight of her own, and longing only to hurt someone.