CHAPTER VIII
THE OLD LATIN GRAMMAR
Master Francis was still writing busily when I went back to the nursery.He looked pale and tired, and once or twice I heard him sigh. I knew itwas not good for him to be stooping so long over his lessons, especiallyas the children had not been out all that day.
'Really,' I said, half to myself, but his ears were quick and he heardme, 'Miss Bess has done nothing but mischief this afternoon. I feelsometimes as if I couldn't manage her.'
The boy looked up quickly.
'O nurse!' he said, 'please don't speak like that. I mean I wouldn't foranything have uncle or auntie think I had put her out, or that there hadbeen any trouble. It just comes over her sometimes like that, and she'svery sorry afterwards. I suppose Lally and I haven't spirits enough forher, she is so clever and bright, and it must be dull for her, now andthen.'
'I'm sure, Master Francis, my dear,' I said, 'no one could be kinder andnicer with Miss Bess than you; and as for cleverness, she may be quickand bright, but I'd like to know where she'd be for her lessons but foryou helping her many a time.'
I was still feeling a bit provoked with Miss Bess, I must allow.
'I'm nearly three years older, you know,' replied Master Francis, thoughall the same I could see a pleased look on his face. It wasn't that hecared for praise--boy or man, I have never in my life known any humanbeing so out and out humble as Mr. Francis; it's that that gives him hiswonderful power over others, I've often thought,--but he did love tothink he was of the least use to any of those he was so devoted to.
'I'm so glad to help her,' he said softly. 'Nurse,' he added after alittle silence, 'I do feel so sad about things sometimes. If I had beenbig and strong, I might have looked forward to doing all sorts of thingsfor them all, but now I often feel I can never be anything but atrouble, and such an expense to uncle and aunt. You really don't knowwhat my leg costs,' he added in a way that made me inclined both tolaugh and cry at once.
'Dear Master Francis,' I said, 'you shouldn't take it so.' I should haveliked to say more, but I felt I could scarcely do so without hinting atblame where I had no right to do so.
He didn't seem to notice me.
'If it had to be,' he went on in the same voice, 'why couldn't I havebeen a girl, or why couldn't one of them have been a boy? That wouldhave stopped it being quite so bad for poor auntie.'
'Whys and wherefores are not for us to answer, my dear, though thingsoften clear themselves up when least expected,' I said. 'And now I mustsee what Miss Bess is after, that's to say if you've got your writingfinished.'
'It's just about done,' he said, 'and I'm sure Bess won't tease anymore. Do fetch her in, nurse. Why, baby! what is it, my pet?' he added,for there was Miss Augusta standing beside him, having deserted her toyson the hearthrug. For, though without understanding anything we had beensaying, she had noticed the melancholy tone of her cousin's voice.
'Poor F'ancie,' she said pitifully. 'So tired, Baby wants to kiss thoo.'
'Poor F'ancie,' she said pitifully. 'So tired, Baby wantsto kiss thoo.']
The boy picked her up in his arms, and I saw the fair shaggy head andfat dimpled cheeks clasped close and near to his thin white face, and ifthere were tears in Master Francis's eyes I am sure it wasn't anythingto be ashamed of. Never was a braver spirit, and no one that knows himnow could think him less a hero could they look back over the whole ofhis life.
I found Miss Bess sitting quietly with the pincushion on her lap, by thewindow, making patterns with the pins, apparently quite content. She hadnot been crying, indeed it took a great deal to get a tear from thatchild, she had such a spirit of her own. Still she was sorry for whatshe had done, and she bore no malice, that I could see by the clear lookin her pretty eyes as she glanced up at me.
'Nurse,' she said, though more with the air of a little queen granting afavour than a tiresome child asking to be forgiven, 'I'm not going totease any more. It's gone now, and I'm going to be good. I'm very sorryfor making Lally cry, though she is a little silly--of course I wouldn'tcare to do it if she wasn't,--and I'm _dreadfully_ sorry for poor oldFranz's exercise. Look what I have been doing to make me remember,' andI saw that she had marked the words 'Bess sorry' with the pins. 'If youleave it there for a few days, and just say "pincushion" if you see mebeginning again, it'll remind me.'
It wasn't very easy for me to keep as grave as I wished, but I answeredquietly--
'Very well, Miss Bess, I hope you'll keep to what you say,' and we wentback, quite friendly again, to the other room.
Master Francis and she began settling what games they would play, and Itook the opportunity of slipping upstairs to the attic to call MissLally down. She came running out, as bright as could be, and gave me herknitting to hide away for her.
'Nursie,' she said, 'I really think there's good fairies in the attic.I've got on so well. Four whole rows all round and none stitchesdropped.'
So that rainy day ended more cheerfully than it had begun.
Unluckily, however, the worst of the mischief caused by Miss Bess'sheedlessness didn't show for some little time to come. The next Latinlesson passed off by all accounts very well, especially for Miss Bess.For, thanks to her new resolutions, she was in a most biddable mood,and quite ready to take her cousin's advice as to learning her list ofwords again, giving up half an hour of her playtime on purpose.
She came dancing upstairs in the highest spirits.
'Nursie,' she said,--and when she called me so I knew I was in highfavour,--'I'm getting so good, I'm quite frightened at myself. Papa saidI had never known my lessons so well.'
'I am very glad, I am sure, my love; and I hope,' I couldn't helpadding, 'that Master Francis got some of the praise of it.'
For Master Francis was following her into the room, looking not quite sojoyful. Miss Bess seemed a little taken aback.
'Do you know,' she said, 'I never thought of it. I was so pleased atbeing praised.' And as the child was honesty itself, I was certain itwas just as she said.
'I'll run down now,' she went on, 'and tell papa that it was Franz whohelped me.'
'No, please don't,' said the boy, catching hold of her. 'I am as pleasedas I can be, Bess, that you got praised, and it's harder for you thanfor me, or even for Lally, to try hard at lessons, for you've alwaysgot such a lot of other things taking you up; and I wouldn't like,' headded slowly, 'for uncle to think I wanted to be praised. You see I'molder than you.'
'I'm sure you don't get too much praise ever, poor Franz!' said MissBess. 'Your exercise was as neat as neat, and yet papa wasn't pleasedwith it.'
Then I understood better why Master Francis looked a little sad.
'It was the one I had to copy over,' he said.
All the same he wouldn't let Miss Bess go down to her papa. Sir Hulbertwas busy, he knew; he had several letters to write, he had heard himsay, so Miss Bess had to give in.
'I'll tell you what it is,' she said. 'People who are generally rathernaughty, like me,'--Miss Bess was in a humble mood!--'get made a greatfuss about when they're good. But people who are always good, likeFranz, never get any praise for it, and if ever they do the least bitwrong, they are far worse scolded.'
This made Master Francis laugh. It was something, as Miss Bess said,among the children themselves. Miss Lally, who was always loving andgentle to her cousin, he just counted upon in a quiet steady sort ofway. But a word of approval from flighty Miss Bess would set him up asif she'd been the Queen herself.
That was a Friday. The next Latin day was Tuesday. Of course I don'tknow much about such things myself, but the lessons were taken in turns.One day they'd words and writing exercises out of a book on purpose, andanother day they'd have regular Latin grammar, out of a thick old book,which had been Sir Hulbert's own when he was a boy, and which he thoughta great deal of. Lesson-books were still expensive too, and even insmall things money was considered at Treluan. It was on that Tuesdaythen that, to my distress, I saw that Master Francis had been cryingwhen
he came back to the nursery. It was the first time I had seen hiseyes red, and he had been trying to make them right again, I'm sure, forhe hadn't come straight up from the library. Miss Bess was not with him;it was a fine day and she had gone out driving with her mamma, havingbeen dressed all ready and her lesson shortened for once on purpose.
I didn't seem to notice Master Francis, sorry though I felt, but MissLally burst out at once.
'Francie, darling,' she said, running up to him and throwing her armsround him. 'What's the matter? It isn't your leg, is it?'
'I wouldn't mind that, you know, Lally,' he said.
'But sometimes, when the pain's been dreadful bad, it squeezes the tearsout, and you can't help it,' she said.
'No,' he answered, 'it isn't my leg. I think I'd better not tell you,Lally, for you might tell it to Bess, and I just won't have her know.Everything's been so nice with her lately, and it just would seem as ifI'd got her into trouble.'
'Was papa vexed with you for something?' the child went on. 'You'dbetter tell me, Francie, I really won't tell Bess if you don't want me,and I'm sure nursie won't. I'm becustomed to keeping secrets now.Sometimes secrets are quite right, nursie says.'
I could scarcely help smiling at her funny little air.
'It wasn't anything _very_ much, after all,' said Master Francis. 'Itwas only that uncle said----,' and here his voice quivered and hestopped short.
'Tell it from the beginning,' said Miss Lally in her motherly way, 'andthen when you get up to the bad part it won't seem so hard to tell.'
It was a relief to him to have her sympathy, I could see, and I think hecared a little for mine too.
'Well,' he began, 'it's all about that Latin grammar--no, not thelesson,' seeing that Miss Lally was going to interrupt him, 'but thebook. Uncle's fat old Latin grammar, you know, Lally. We didn't use itlast Friday, it wasn't the day, and we hadn't needed to look at itourselves since last Wednesday--that was the ink-spilling day. So it wasnot found out till to-day; and--and uncle was--so--so vexed when he sawhow spoilt it was, and the worst of it was I began something about ithaving been Bess, and that she hadn't told me, and that made uncle muchworse----.' Here Master Francis stopped, he seemed on the point ofcrying again, and he was a boy to feel very ashamed of tears, as I havesaid.
'I don't think Miss Bess could have known the book had got inked,' Isaid. 'And I scarce see how it happened, unless the ink got spilt on thetable, and it may have been lying open--I've seen Miss Bess fling herbooks down open on their faces, so to speak, many a time,--and it mayhave dried in and been shut up when all the books were cleared away, andno one noticed.'
'Yes,' said Master Francis eagerly, 'that's how it must have been. Inever meant that Bess had done it and hidden it. I said it in a hurrybecause I was so sorry for uncle to think I hadn't taken care of hisbook, and I was very sorry about the book too. But I made it far worse.Uncle said it was mean of me to try to put my carelessness upon another,a younger child, and a girl; O Lally! you never heard him speak likethat; it was _dreadful_.'
'Was it worse than that time when big Jem put the blame on little Patabout the dogs not being fed?' asked Miss Lally very solemnly.
Master Francis flushed all over.
'You needn't have said that, Lally,' he said turning away. 'I'm not sobad as that, any way.'
It was very seldom he spoke in that voice to Miss Lally, and she hadn'tmeant to vex him, poor child, though her speech had been a mistake.
'Come, come, Master Francis,' I said, 'you're taking the whole thing toomuch to heart, I think. Perhaps Sir Hulbert was worried this morning.'
'No, no,' said Master Francis, 'he spoke quite quietly. A sort of cold,kind way, that's much worse than scolding. He said whatever Bess'sfaults were, she was quite, quite open and honest, and of course I knowshe is; but he said that this sort of thing made him a little afraidthat my being delicate and not--not like other boys, was spoiling me,and that I must never try to make up for not being strong and manly bygetting into mean and cunning ways to defend myself.'
Young as she was, Miss Lally quite understood; she quite forgot allabout his having been vexed with her a moment before.
'O Francie!' she cried, running to him and flinging her arms round him,in a way she sometimes did, as if he needed her protection; 'how couldpapa say so to you? Nobody could think you mean or cunning. It's onlythat you're too good. I'll tell Bess as soon as she comes in, and she'lltell papa all about it, then he'll see.'
'No, dear,' said Master Francis, 'that's just what you mustn't do. Don'tyou remember you promised?'
Miss Lally's face fell.
'Don't you see,' Master Francis went on, 'that _would_ look mean? As ifI had made Bess tell on herself to put the blame off me. And I do wanteverything to be happy with Bess and me ourselves as long as I am here.It won't be for so very long,' he added. 'Uncle says it will be a verygood thing indeed for me to go to school.'
This was too much for Miss Lally, she burst out crying, and huggedMaster Francis tighter than before. I had got to understand more of herways by now, and I knew that once she was started on a regular sobbingfit, it soon got beyond her own power to stop. So I whispered to MasterFrancis that he must help to cheer her up, and between us we managed tocalm her down. That was just one of the things so nice about the dearboy, he was always ready to forget about himself if there was anythingto do for another.
Miss Bess came back from her drive brimming over with spirits, andthough it would have been wrong to bear her any grudge, it vexed merather to see the other two so pale and extra quiet, though MasterFrancis did his best, I will say, to seem as cheerful as usual.
Miss Bess's quick eyes soon saw there had been something amiss. But Ipassed it off by saying Miss Lally had been troubled about something,but we weren't going to think about it any more.
Think about it I did, however, so far as it concerned Master Francis,especially. Till now I had been always pleased to see that his uncle wasreally much attached to the boy, and ready to do him justice. But thisnotion, which seemed to have begun in Sir Hulbert's mind, that justbecause the poor child was delicate and in a sense infirm, he must bemean spirited and unmanly in mind, seemed to me a very sad one, andlikely to bring much unhappiness. Nor could I feel sure that my lady wasnot to blame for it. She was frank and generous herself, but inclined totake up prejudices, and not always careful enough in her way of speakingof those she had any feeling against.
I did what I could, whenever I had any opportunity, to stand up for theboy in a quiet way, and with all respect to those who were his naturalguardians. But, on the whole, much as I knew we should miss him in thenursery, I was scarcely sorry to hear not many weeks after the littleevents I have been telling about, that Master Francis's going to schoolwas decided upon. It was to be immediately after the Christmas holidays,and we were now in the month of October.