by L. T. Meade
rector.
"Still your children must be clothed," said Brenda, putting on a severeair. "You have taken lodgings for them at the sea, and I can't walkabout with girls who are not presentable. I would rather, painful as itseems, resign my post--though of course I don't really mean to do it,but--"
The rector looked really terrified.
"You must not neglect my poor orphans! What would my children dowithout you? But what is necessary? What do you think each willrequire?"
"I can manage with three pounds for each: that is, nine pounds for thethree and seven pounds ten for myself. I know it seems a great deal ofmoney, but you cannot imagine how careful I will be."
"I am sure--I am certain you will."
Mr Amberley drew a cheque for the amount. He could not help sighingmore than once as he did so. It represented a very large sum to him,and would preclude the possibility of his taking any holiday himself;for little Joe Hoskins and Mary Miller must go to the seaside at anycost. Nevertheless, the picture of his home without Brenda Carlton, andhis three orphans neglected and forsaken, was greater than his patiencecould abide; and he made up his mind to do what Brenda wished, let theconsequences be what they might. She had her way also with regard tothe horse and trap and returned to her pupils with a cheque in her handfor sixteen pounds ten and a most triumphant expression on her prettyface.
Not the most remote idea had she of spending three pounds on each girl;but she could get them a flimsy muslin each, some brown shoes to wear onthe sands, and a cheap hat for each sandy-covered head, which woulddelight their small minds. The rest of the money would be her own.Thus she would be able to make herself look distinguished, and yet nottouch the twenty pounds which Penelope had sent her from school.
"Hurrah!" she cried, as she joined her pupils. "The good little papahas come up to the scratch. You shall have your pink muslins, and hats,and gloves, and shoes besides. Only the muslins must be made at home,and I myself will trim the hats. Now then--prepare for a happy holiday.The pony trap will be at the door by twelve o'clock. Nina, run tocook, and tell her to make up some sandwiches for us and a bottle oflemonade. We need not spend our precious fairings at the confectioner'sif we take home-made provisions with us."
Nina, in rapture at the happy time which she felt was before her, flewoff to obey Brenda's behests and, sharp at twelve, the little party leftthe old rectory and drove down through the shady village street.
Brenda drove. She was a capital whip, and never looked better than whenshe was so employed. More than one person turned to gaze withadmiration at the handsome showy girl, and her heart swelled within herwith pride and satisfaction as she noticed this fact. At the bank shechanged the cheque, taking care that her pupils did not see the amountwhich swelled her little purse.
They arrived at Rocheford in about an hour, and there a silk of thepalest shade of blue was chosen with soft French lace for trimming.Nina was absolutely open-mouthed with admiration as she saw theexquisite fabric being told off in yards by the shopman. After thedress was bought, Brenda purchased very pretty pink muslins for herpupils, and white hats which she meant to trim with cheap white muslin.
They then went to a shoemaker's where they got shoes, and to anothershop for gloves, and finally to interview that modiste of great fame, asMadame Declasse described herself. But here disappointment awaited thelittle girls, for Brenda insisted on entering the apartment all alone.
"You, Fanchon," she said, "must hold the pony's reins. Don't hold themtoo tight--just like this; see, _mon enfant_--do attend to mydirections. Now then, I shan't be very long."
"But may not two of us come with you?" asked Josephine. "We should loveto see the pretty things in Madame Declasse's show-room."
"No, no; I must see her alone; she will do it cheaper for me if I amalone."
Brenda skipped away, and the girls were left in charge of the dull,over-worked little pony with the western sun beating down upon them.They had certainly passed an exciting day, but, on the whole, they werenot quite satisfied. There was a mutinous feeling in each small breastwhich only needed the match of suspicion to set it on fire. It was Ninawho, in the most casual voice, applied that match.
"I am looking at myself," she said, "in the mirror let into the ponytrap just facing us; and I am awfully red."
"Of course you are, Nina," laughed both her sisters.
"My face is red," continued Nina, "and so is my hair; and my eyes arenot at all big. Do you think I am really pretty, or am I ugly?"
She gave an anxious glance at Josephine and Fanchon.
"Ugly--of course," laughed Fanchon.
"Very ugly--a little fright," said Josephine.
"Then if I am a fright," said Nina, becoming a more vivid crimson, "soare you, too, for you are red also, and your hair is sandy, and you havevery small eyes."
"Oh, do shut up," said Fanchon.
Nina turned restlessly on her hot seat. "I wish I was like Brenda," shesaid, after a minute's pause.
"Well, you are not, and all the wishing in the world won't make you so,"was Josephine's answer.
"I suppose she is quite beautiful," said Fanchon, with a sigh.
"Oh, yes--there isn't a doubt of it," continued Nina. "How the men dostare at her."
"It's very rude of men to stare," said Josephine. "It is not at all tobe admired."
"But Brenda likes it, all the same," said Nina. "I know she does, forshe nudges me sometimes as we are on the way to church. What a longtime she is with Madame Declasse!"
"Nina," said Fanchon, "if you don't sit still, you will startle Rob, andhe may take it into his head to run away."
"Rob run away! He knows better," answered Nina. "Why, he has hardly akick in him--poor old dear! You wouldn't run away, would you, Rob?"
Rob flicked his ears, and gave a slight movement to his tail. This heconsidered sufficient answer to Nina's tender enquiry.
"I wish Brenda was not quite so long," she said. "Why, of course she isa long time. She has got to have her lovely blue silk made up. FancyBrenda in silk! How astonished father will be! Silk is the dream ofhis life. He said when he married mother, she wore silk. She never,never wore it since--he said--she could not afford it, only very richpeople could. There was a time when I thought of keeping silkworms, andwinding off the silk from the cocoons until I had enough to make adress; but Brenda laughed me out of that."
"Well--she's got her deserts. She must have spent a lot of money on thedress," said Fanchon.
"She didn't spend much on ours, that I know," said Nina. "Those pinkmuslins were only sixpence three farthings the yard, and she wouldn'tget an extra yard for me, although I did so want mine to have littleflounces--I think little flounces are so stylish. Oh dear, dear! Iwish she would come!"
Here Nina took up a carefully folded parcel which contained the materialfor the girls' pink muslin dresses.
"Let's look at it," she said--"let's see it in the broad light. It'llbe something to amuse us."
"Oh, but we never can pack it up again," exclaimed Josephine.
"Have you got your pocket knife with you, Fanchon?" asked Nina.
Fanchon declared that she had.
"Well, give it to me, and I will cut a wee hole in the paper, justenough for us to see our darling gowns."
This was too fascinating a proposal to be lightly refused, and in theend the girls had removed enough of the brown paper wrapping to disclosea certain portion of the delicate pink muslin which lay folded beneath.
"I wonder now," said Nina--she raised her flushed face and looked at herred little person in the tiny square of glass--"I wonder why she makesus wear pink. Do you think, Fanchon--do you think, Josephine, that itsuits us?"
The two elder girls were quite silent, but a horrified expression creptover Fanchon's face. She was older than the others, and had once heardit said that a girl with red hair--however pretty she might be--oughtnot to wear pink. A sense of revolt filled her soul.
"Why don't you speak?" sai
d Nina.
"I--I am thinking," she said, crossly. "Don't worry me."
She was thinking to good purpose. The other two seemed to divine herthoughts. They all sat silent and moody.
"I shall do a sum in arithmetic to-night," thought Josephine. "I knowexactly how many yards of that horrid pink muslin she bought and whatthe hats cost, and those little cheap shoes, and those gloves."
But Josephine did not say the words aloud. After a little time Ninasaid:
"I saw a quantity of gold in Brenda's purse. It seems so odd that sheshould spend a