The Bars of Iron

by Ethel M. Dell

  CHAPTER III

  DISCIPLINE

  "Mrs. Denys, may I come in?" Jeanie Lorimer's small, delicate face peepedround the door. "I've brought my French exercise to do," she saidhalf-apologetically. "I thought perhaps you wouldn't mind."

  "Of course come in, dear child! I like to have you." The mother's helppaused in her rapid stitching to look up with a smile at the pretty,brown-haired child. "Come close to the light!" she said. "I hope it isn'ta very long one; is it?"

  "It is--rather," Jeanie sighed a sharp, involuntary sigh. "I ought tohave done it sooner, but I was busy with the little ones. Is thatGracie's frock you're mending? What an awful tear!" She came and stood byMrs. Denys's side, speaking in a low, rather monotonous voice. A heavystrand of her hair fell over the work as she bent to look; she tossed itback with another sigh. "Gracie is such a tomboy," she said. "It's apity, isn't it?"

  "My dear, you're tired," said Mrs. Denys gently. She put a motherly armabout the slim body that leaned against her, looking up into the paleyoung face with eyes of kindly criticism.

  "A little tired," said Jeanie.

  "I shouldn't do that exercise to-night if I were you," said Mrs. Denys."You will find it easier in the morning. Lie down on the sofa here andhave a little rest till supper time!"

  "Oh no, I mustn't," said Jeanie. "Father will never let any of us go tobed till the day's work is done."

  "But surely, when you're really tired--" began Mrs. Denys.

  But Jeanie shook her head. "No; thank you very much, I must do it. Olivedid hers long ago."

  "Where is Olive?" asked Mrs. Denys.

  "She's reading a story-book downstairs. We may always read when we'vefinished our lessons." Again came that short, unconscious sigh. Jeaniewent to the table and sat down. "Mother is rather upset to-night," shesaid, as she turned the leaves of her book. "Ronald and Julian have beensmoking, and she is so afraid that Father will find out. I hope hewon't--for her sake. But if they don't eat any supper, he is sure tonotice. He flogged Julian two nights running the last time because hetold a lie about it."

  A quick remark rose to her listener's lips, but it was suppressedunuttered. Mrs. Denys began to stitch very rapidly with her face bentover her work. It was a very charming face, with level grey eyes, wideapart, and a mouth of great sweetness. There was a fugitive dimple on oneside of it that gave her a girlish appearance when she smiled. But shewas not a girl. There was about her an air of quiet confidence as of onewho knew something of the world and its ways. She was young still, and itwas yet in her to be ardent; but she had none of the giddy restlessnessof youth. Avery Denys was a woman who had left her girlhood wholly behindher. Her enthusiasms and her impulses were kindled at a steadier flamethan the flickering torch of youth. There was no romance left in herlife, but yet was she without bitterness. She had known suffering andfaced it unblanching. The only mark it had left upon her was that air ofwomanly knowledge that clothed her like a garment even in her lightestmoods. Of a quick understanding and yet quicker sympathy, she hadlearned to hold her emotions in check, and the natural gaiety of her hidmuch that was too sacred to be carelessly displayed. She had a readysense of humour that had buoyed her up through many a storm, and thebrave heart behind it never flinched from disaster. As her father hadsaid of her in the long-ago days of happiness and prosperity, she tookher hedges straight.

  For several minutes after Jeanie's weary little confidence, she workedin silence; then suddenly, with needle poised, she looked across atthe child.

  Jeanie's head was bent over her exercise-book. Her hair lay in a heavymass all about her shoulders. There was a worried frown between herbrows. Slowly her hand travelled across the page, paused, wrote a word ortwo, paused again.

  Suddenly from the room above them there came the shrill shriek of aviolin. It wailed itself into silence, and then broke forth again in aseries of long drawn-out whines. Jeanie sighed.

  Avery laid down her work with quiet decision, and went to her side. "Whatis worrying you, dear?" she asked gently. "I'm not a great Frenchscholar, but I think I may be able to help."

  "Thank you," said Jeanie, in her voice of tired courtesy. "You mustn'thelp me. No one must."

  "I can find the words you don't know in the dictionary," said Avery.

  "No, thank you," said Jeanie. "Father doesn't like us to have help ofany kind."

  There were deep shadows about the eyes she raised to Avery's face, butthey smiled quite bravely, with all unconscious wistfulness.

  Avery laid a tender hand upon the brown head and drew it to rest againsther. "Poor little thing!" she said compassionately.

  "But I'm not little really, you know," said Jeanie, closing her eyes fora few stolen moments. "I'm thirteen in March. And they're all youngerthan me except Ronnie and Julian."

  Avery bent with a swift, maternal movement and kissed the blue-veinedforehead. Jeanie opened her eyes in slight surprise. Quite plainly shewas not accustomed to sudden caresses.

  "I'm glad we've got you, Mrs. Denys," she said, with her quiet air ofchildish dignity. "You are a great help to us."

  She turned back to her French exercise with the words, and Avery, after amoment's thought, turned to the door. She heard again the child's sigh ofweariness as she closed it behind her.

  The wails of the violin were very audible in the passage outside. Sheshivered at the atrocious sounds. From a further distance there came thescreams of an indignant baby and the strident shouts of two small boyswho were racing to and fro in an uncarpeted room at the top of the house.But after that one shiver Avery Denys had no further attention to bestowupon any of these things. She went with her quick, light tread down tothe square hall which gave a suggestion of comfort to the Vicarage whichnot one of its rooms endorsed.

  Without an instant's hesitation she knocked upon the first door she cameto. A voice within gave her permission to enter, and she did so.

  The Reverend Stephen Lorimer turned from his writing-table with a face ofdignified severity to receive her, but at sight of her his expressionchanged somewhat.

  "Ah, Mrs. Denys! You, is it? Pray come in!" he said urbanely. "Is thereany way in which I can be of service to you?"

  His eyes were dark and very small, so small that they nearly disappearedwhen he smiled. But for this slight defect, Mr. Lorimer would have been ahandsome man. He rose as Avery approached and placed a chair for her withelaborate courtesy.

  "Thank you," she said. "I only ran in for a moment--just to tell youthat little Jeanie is so tired to-night. She has had no time for herlessons all the afternoon because she has been helping with the littleones in the nursery. She insists upon doing her French exercise, but I amsure you would not wish her to do it if you knew how worn out the childis. May I tell her to leave it for to-night?"

  She spoke quickly and very earnestly, with clear eyes raised to Mr.Lorimer's face. She watched his smile fade and his eyes reappear as shemade her appeal.

  He did not reply to it for some seconds, and a sharp doubt went throughher. She raised her brows in mute interrogation.

  "Yes, my dear Mrs. Denys," he said, in response to her unspoken query, "Isee that you appreciate the fact that there are at least two points ofview to every proposition. You tell me that Jeanie was occupied in thenursery during that period of the day which should legitimately have beenset aside for the assimilation of learning. I presume her presence therewas voluntary?"

  "Oh, quite." There was a hint of sharpness in Avery's rejoinder. "Shewent out of the goodness of her heart because Nurse had been uppractically all night with Baby and needed a rest and I was obliged to gointo Wardenhurst for Mrs. Lorimer. So Jeanie took charge of Bertie andDavid, and Gracie and Pat went with me."

  Mr. Lorimer waved a protesting hand. "Pray spare yourself and me allthese details, Mrs. Denys! I am glad to know that Jeanne has been usefulto you, but at the same time she has no right to offer duty upon thealtar of kindness. You will acknowledge that to obey is better thansacrifice. As a matter of principle, I fear I cannot remit any
of hertask, and I trust that on the next occasion she will remember to setduty first."

  A hot flush had risen in Avery's face and her eyes sparkled, but sherestrained herself. There was no indignation in her voice as she said:"Mr. Lorimer, believe me, that child will never shirk her duty. She isfar too conscientious. It is really for the sake of her health that Icame to beg you to let her off that French exercise. I am sure she is notstrong. Perhaps I did wrong to let her be in the nursery this afternoon,though I scarcely know how else we could have managed. But that is myfault, not hers. I take full responsibility for that."

  Mr. Lorimer began to smile again. "That is very generous of you," hesaid. "But, as a matter of justice, I doubt if the whole burden of itshould fall to your share. You presumably were unaware that Jeanne'safternoon should have been devoted to her studies. She cannot plead alike ignorance. Therefore, while dismissing the petition, I hold youabsolved from any blame in the matter. Pray do not distress yourselfany further!"

  "I certainly thought it was a half-holiday," Avery admitted. "But I amdistressed--very greatly distressed--on the child's account. She is notfit for work to-night."

  Mr. Lorimer made an airy gesture expressive of semi-humorous regret."Discipline, my dear Mrs. Denys, must be maintained at all costs--evenamong the members of your charming sex. As a matter of fact, I am waitingto administer punishment to one of my sons at the present moment for anact of disobedience."

  He glanced towards the writing-table on which lay a cane, and again thequick blood mounted in Avery's face.

  "Oh, don't you think you are a little hard on your children?" she said;and then impulsively, "No; forgive me! I ought not to put it like that.But do you find it answers to be so strict? Does it make them any moreobedient?"

  He raised his shoulders slightly; his eyes gleamed momentarily ere theyvanished into his smile. He shook his head at her with tolerant irony. "Ifear your heart runs away with you, Mrs. Denys, and I must not suffermyself to listen to you. I have my duty--my very distinct duty--toperform, and I must not shirk it. As to the results, they are in otherHands than mine."

  There came a low knock at the door as he finished speaking, and he turnedat once to answer it.

  "Come in!"

  The door opened, and a very small, very nervous boy crept round it. Aquick exclamation rose to Avery's lips before she could suppress it. Mr.Lorimer looked at her interrogatively.

  "I was only surprised to see Pat," she explained. "He has been withme all the afternoon. I hardly thought he could have had time to getinto trouble."

  "Come here, Patrick!" said Mr. Lorimer.

  Patrick advanced. He looked neither at Avery nor his father, but kept hiseyes rigidly downcast. His freckled face had a half-frightened,half-sullen expression. He halted before Mr. Lorimer who took him by theshoulder, and turned him round towards Avery.

  "Tell Mrs. Denys what you did!" he said.

  Pat shot a single glance upwards, and made laconic reply. "I undid Mike."

  "Oh, dear!" exclaimed Avery in great distress. "I'm afraid that wasmy fault."

  "Yours, Mrs. Denys?" Mr. Lorimer's eyes became visible as two brilliantpin-points turned searchingly upon her face.

  "Yes, mine!" she reiterated. "Mike was whining on his chain, and I said Ithought it was cruel to keep a dog tied up. I suppose I ought to havekept my thoughts to myself," she said with a pathetic little smile. "Doplease forgive us both this time!"

  Mr. Lorimer ignored the appeal. "And do you know what happened inconsequence of his being liberated?" he asked.

  "Yes, I do." Ruefully she made answer. "He fought Mr. Evesham's dog and Ihelped to pull him off."

  "You, Mrs. Denys!"

  "Yes, I." She nodded. "There wasn't much damage done, anyhow to Mike. Iam very, very sorry, Mr. Lorimer. But really Pat is not to blame forthis. Won't you--please--"

  She stopped, for very decidedly Mr. Lorimer interrupted her. "I am afraidI cannot agree with you, Mrs. Denys. You may have spoken unadvisedly, butPatrick was aware that in releasing the dog he was acting in directopposition to my orders. Therefore he must bear his own punishment. Imust beg that for the future you will endeavour to be a little morediscreet in your observations. Patrick, open the door for Mrs. Denys!"

  It was a definite dismissal--perhaps the most definite that Avery hadever had in her life. A fury of resentment possessed her, but feeling herself-control to be tottering, she dared not give it vent. She turned inquivering silence and departed.

  As she went out of the room, she perceived that Pat had begun to cry.