The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls

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The Palace Beautiful: A Story for Girls Page 16

by L. T. Meade


  CHAPTER XVI.

  PENELOPE MANSION.

  The last time in the funny little old-fashioned garden, the lastloving look at Jasmine's carnations, the last eager chase of the Pinkacross the little grass-plot, the last farewell said to the room wheremother had died, to the cottage where Daisy was born, the final hugfrom all three to dear old Hannah who vowed and declared that followthem to London she would, and stay in Devonshire any longer she wouldnot, and the girls had left Woodbine Cottage.

  Notwithstanding all their obstinacy, and their determination to havetheir own way, quite a bevy of friends accompanied them to the railwaystation--Miss Martineau was there, looking prim and starched, but withred rims round her eyes, and her lips only stern because they were sofirmly shut, and because she was so determined not to show anyemotion--Mrs. Jenkins, Poppy's mother, was also present; she wassending up a great bouquet of wild flowers and some eggs and butter toPoppy; and a lame boy, whom Jasmine had always been kind to, camehobbling on to the platform to bid the young ladies good-bye; and Mr.Danesfield drove up on his trap at the last moment in a violent hurry,and pushed an envelope, which he said contained a businesscommunication, into Primrose's hand. Last of all, just at the veryend, Mrs. Ellsworthy arrived panting on the scene; a footman followedher, also hurrying and panting, and he put into the railway carriage agreat basket containing hot-house flowers, and grapes, and peaches,and then Mrs. Ellsworthy kissed the girls, giving Primrose and Daisy ahurried salute, but letting her lips linger for a moment on Jasmine'sround cheek. During that brief moment two tears dropped from the kindlittle lady's eyes.

  It was in this manner that the girls went away.

  They arrived in London in the evening, and after a surprisinglysuccessful search for their luggage at Waterloo, managing not to loseanything, got into a cab, and drove to Penelope Mansion.

  Poppy's aunt boasted of the pleasing name of Flint, and when the girlsdrove up with their cab piled with luggage to the door of the mansion,Mrs. Flint herself came out to welcome them.

  Jasmine, whose excitable temperament had been going through manychanges during the journey to town, had now worked herself up into anardent desire to see Poppy--she jumped out of the cab first of all,and, running up the steps of Penelope Mansion, said eagerly--

  "Oh, if you please, Mrs. Flint--I know, of course, you are Mrs.Flint--may I run down to the kitchen, and find Poppy?"

  "My niece will come to you presently, Miss Mainwaring," answered Mrs.Flint.

  Somehow Mrs. Flint's calm and carefully modulated voice had an instanteffect in subduing Jasmine. The mistress of Penelope Mansion resembledperhaps more a cushion than a flint--she was fat, round, and short,had a good-humored and unruffled face, and a voice which was alwayspitched in one key.

  "We call my niece Sarah in these premises," she said; "Poppy signifiesnothing whatever but a weed, untidy, straggling, the worry of thefarmers. Sarah will see to your comforts presently, young ladies. Atthe present moment tea is on the table. We tea at six o'clockprecisely--we sup at nine. Will you like to go upstairs and wash yourhands, or will you come at once with me, and partake with the otherinmates of the meal which is now going forward?"

  "I don't like her, but she seems to speak very correct English,"whispered Jasmine to her sister: "I wonder, does everybody in thegreat city speak like that? I suppose she'll do as a study in style.I must study style, mustn't I, if I'm to make money by writing?"

  This speech was tumbled into Primrose's ear with wonderful rapidity,while Mrs. Flint stood gently by, looking most contented anduninterested.

  "Hush, Jasmine!" whispered Primrose. "Daisy darling, hold my hand.Thank you very much, Mrs. Flint; we will have some tea now, if youplease, and then go at once to our room."

  "Does Poppy--I mean Sarah--wait at the tea-table?" inquired Jasmine,as their hostess led the way up a flight of stairs, and down apassage. "I hope she does--I want to see her so badly."

  "Sarah's duties at the present moment are in the kitchen," respondedMrs. Flint, with some graciousness. "Now, young ladies, let me precedeyou, and introduce you to my guests. Miss Mainwaring, Miss Jasmine andMiss Daisy Mainwaring--Mrs. Mortlock, Mrs. Dredge, Miss Slowcum. Youngladies, will you seat yourselves at the table?"

  Mrs. Flint moved to her place at the head of the board; the threegirls dropped into seats, and were stared broadly at by Miss Slowcumand Mrs. Mortlock. Mrs. Dredge, however, did not stare, but stretchingout one rather plump white hand, took Daisy's within her own and gaveit a little squeeze.

  "Tired, pretty little dear!" she said; "tired and cold. Ah, I know allabout it."

  "No, she's not cold, she's hot," responded Jasmine; "this is thehottest, closest room I've ever been in. You are Mrs. Dredge, are younot? Please, Mrs. Dredge, can you tell me how near we are to the realglories of the city from here?"

  "I don't know, my dear--I fancy a very long way," answered Mrs.Dredge, with a sigh--this sigh was instantly taken up by Mrs. Mortlockand Miss Slowcum, and Miss Slowcum remarked that the situation mightcertainly be considered the worst in London.

  "Ha, ha!" said Mrs. Mortlock, "you will have to come down in yourprices after that, Mrs. Flint. Ha, ha! your question was a veryleading one, Miss Jasmine Mainwaring."

  Poor Jasmine began to feel quite alarmed, and instantly resolved notto open her lips again during tea.

  The meal proceeded, and very dull it was; nor was the fare appetizing,for the tea was weak and the bread was stale. The three young faces,so fresh from the country and from home, began to reflect the generaldulness. Mrs. Flint always made it a rule never to speak except whenobliged--Daisy was nearly asleep, Primrose felt a dreadful lump in herthroat, and Jasmine's dark curly head was bent low, and her brighteyes were not seen under their long lashes, for she was very wellaware that they were full of tears.

  She was a most impulsive creature, however, quick and variable in hermoods, unselfish in her character. Suddenly it dawned upon her that itwas not fair to the rest of the party that she should be so dull. Shehad always been considered the sunbeam at home; why should she not tryto become the sunbeam of Penelope Mansion?

  "I know what will do it," she exclaimed, jumping from her seat, andnearly upsetting her own tea and Daisy's. "Of course, how silly ofme!--I know what will alter things directly." Then she flew out of theroom, returning the next moment with Mrs. Ellsworthy's great basket offruit and flowers.

  "Primrose," she said, "mightn't we share these with the ladies? Theyare all quite fresh from the country. Oh yes, of course we may sharethem. Mrs. Flint, which will you have, some flowers, a bunch ofgrapes, or a peach?"

  Mrs. Flint selected a good-sized bunch of grapes with a placid smile,and a "Thank you, Miss Jasmine"--Mrs. Mortlock also took grapes, MissSlowcum selected flowers, and Mrs. Dredge partook of a peach withgreat relish, calling it, as she did so, a "sweet reminiscence of theblooming country."

  After this little incident the ladies of Penelope Mansion and theMainwaring girls became quite friendly; nevertheless the three criedthemselves to sleep that night.

 

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