I
call it extremely selfish of you and John to have had this secret all this time, and never to have told us,"said Hugh, on the morning before New Year's Day, as they all sat at breakfast.
Agnes looked up over the "cosy," a surprised hurt look overshadowing the brightness of her face.
"You do notreallythink it unkind, Hugh?" she asked; "you are only trying to tease me."
"I'm not joking at all," answered Hugh, dropping his eyes so as not to meet her beseeching ones. "For you and John to have kept this to yourself all this time is exceedingly selfish."
"Why,Ididn't know," said Minnie.
"Nor I," said Alice.
"That's different!" exclaimed Hugh hastily; "you'regirls; but I'm only two years younger than John, and I don't see any reason why you should not have told me."
"There was no reason," said Agnes gently, "except just this: Mother thought that it would be a little pleasure for New Year's Eve, and a secret that is told to everyone is no secret."
"But I might have been told; I should not have let it out like a girl."
"I dare say," said Alice, her eyes sparkling with displeasure; "and so because we are girls we are not to be trusted with anything, while because you are boys—for no other reason—you——"
She paused, Agnes's face stopped her, and then her eyes turned to John's, and she noticed that his were fixed earnestly on the text, which was just touched by the morning sunshine, as it crept silently along the wall—
"Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?"
"Oh, John," she said softly; "I quite forgot."
And then they all noticed that John had not forgotten.
At Hugh's first angry word, just as he was turning to answer, the light on the text caught his attention, and his promise to Agnes flashed across him; his promise that while their parents were away he would try with might and main to refrain from quarrelling with his brother.
There was a few moments' silence, while each of the five assembled there had time to remember their resolves, and to ask for strength to keep them.
At last Alice spoke. "Do you mind telling us. Agnes, what you are going to do then?"
"Well, you know my morning Sunday-school class that I have given up to another teacher while mother is away?"
Alice nodded.
"Mother thought it would be nice if we asked them to tea to-day, and hoped it would keep them together better; and then John and I have been devising how we could please them."
"Did you think of a Christmas-tree?" asked Hugh eagerly.
Agnes shook her head. "It was of no use thinking of it; we hadn't money enough. No, we thought of games; only the boys are apt to get rough, and without mother and father it seemed a great undertaking."
"So it is," said Alice; "for don't you remember what a dreadful noise they made one year when we had them?"
"Yes," answered John; "so, as I was passing along the Strand the day after father went to America, I noticed 'magic-lanterns for school treats,' posted up very large in a window, and it gave me the idea of using mine for our little treat, and hiring a few more slides to make it last longer."
"Yes, we haven't so very many slides," said Minnie, considering.
"Pretty well," answered John; "but at anyrate two dozen more will be an advantage."
"And after the magic-lantern is over?" asked Alice.
"Agnes is going to talk to them, or tell them a story, and after that they'll have an orange."
"Oh!" said Minnie, "I shall like that."
"Which," asked Hugh, "the 'talk,' or the 'story,' or the 'orange'?"
Minnie blushed, but after the late little breeze determined not to be vexed, and answered, "You know perfectly well what I meant, Hugh; so it's no good trying to make out anything else."
"Do you want me to do anything to-day. Agnes?" asked Alice.
"Of course I do," exclaimed Agnes; "I have a perfect list of things to be done. Cakes to be made by Alice; room to be got ready by Hugh; chairs brought from everywhere, seats devised, flowers arranged—there, I can't tell you all till we are in it."
"And is there anything for me to do?" asked Minnie, getting up and coming round to lean against her sister's shoulder.
"Yes, I want you to be willing to run messages all day long, and never to mind how often Alice sends you upstairs, or Hugh sends you downstairs, but to have feet of love for to-day."
"All right," said Minnie.
"And then for pleasant things, between whiles, you shall go to buy the oranges, and some buns, and some gingerbread nuts, and so on, and we'llhave I hope as happy a day as any since they went away."
As Agnes turned at the door to give a parting direction, Hugh put his arm round her and said humbly:
"I'm awfully sorry I was so stupid, Agnes—so wrong—but I'm for ever forgetting."
And Agnes said, "I'm sorry too, Hugh, that we made a secret of it, for I see now it would have been nicer for you to have known; but I didn't mean to be unkind."
After that they worked on happily together all the morning, though Hugh felt a twinge whenever any one remarked, as Minnie and Alice were apt to do all day, "How funny it seems not to have known."
"It's the last secret I'll have, John, that I can help," said Agnes to him when they were left alone for a few minutes, and were busy pinning up the sheet.
"Yes," answered John, reaching down from the top of the steps, where he was astride, and taking the corner from her outstretched arm, "Yes, Agnes. I don't believe in secrets."
"Nor I," answered Agnes, "I have seen it before, and it will this time be a lesson to me."
"But we didn't quarrel over it, exactly."
"Oh, no; but we might have if you had not remembered in time. I do not mean that I defend Hugh for being so cross over it, but I see oncemore that nobody likes to have things kept and then given all of a heap."
"You are very lucid."
"Well," she answered, laughing and blushing. "I remember on my seventeenth birthday you all thought it would be nice to give me my presents at tea, and so they were kept all day, and it was a wretched birthday."
John was descending the ladder. "I never knew that," he said.
"Oh, it is not worth remembering," said Agnes; "I only thought of it as an illustration. It was not that I cared so much about the presents, you know, John, it was because everything seemed incomplete. After all I had a much better present than I ever dreamed of, for father gave me my dear little watch."
"I see what you mean," said John. "Now, Agnes, for the other end; that hangs very straight, doesn't it?"
"Nicely. This long curtain-pole is a fine idea for magic-lantern exhibitions."
"Yes, I am glad you thought of it. Agnes, how do you like being left to ourselves?"
"Not at all," answered Agnes decidedly.
"Are we better or worse than you expected?"
"I am worse—you are better," she answered, laughing a little; but it was as near a sob as a laugh.
"How?" asked John earnestly.
"Well, I mean that in one way, and not in another. I think I expected we should all be more perfect than we are."
"You did not expect me to break my promise, for instance?" asked John gravely.
"I hardly think you did. Oh no, John, you have been better in every way than I could have hoped, andIhave been worse!"
"I don't see it," he answered fondly.
"But I do; I trusted in myself too much."
"We all do. Agnes, I'm inclined to think this being left to ourselves will turn out for our good."
"I am sure I hope so."
"Don't be desponding. Look at Hugh! Who ever heard him acknowledge himself in the wrong before? and yet just now, you know what he said to you? He would not have done that a month ago."
Agnes looked up. "Do you think so?" she said. "Oh, John, what a comforter you are."
"Then cheer up. Are you not doing what He would have you to do?"
"I try to."
"Then thank Him," said her brother cheerfully, "and take courage."
All was in readiness by the hour fixed for the arrival of their little guests, and very punctually to it, in fact a quarter of an hour before five o'clock. Minnie, who was always the one to watch at the window, announced that two of them were loitering about outside.
"How cold they'll be," she said pitifully.
"Not they," said Hugh.
"I should be," answered Minnie.
"Oh,you! but these poor little mites are used to be in the streets all day."
"So they are. But I wonder if Agnes will let me bring them in?"
"Not yet," answered John, who came in at that moment, "wait till it strikes five; as Hugh says, they are used to it."
Before the hand was on the hour, twelve or fourteen children crowded up the steps, and one of them, the boldest of the party, ventured to give a single 'dab' at the door, which brought Hugh to open it; and then began the disrobing, which orderly John had promised to superintend.
They were ushered into the dining-room, where tea was laid all ready, and it did not take them long to sit down and begin.
After all were satisfied, the table was pushed back into a corner, and in a few moments John and Hugh packed the children round the room so that all could see well, Minnie squeezing herself into a little corner by the sheet, where she would not have at all a good view, remarking, "Of course it does not matter a bit aboutme."
John smiled, but did not see where he could put her better, and, after all, was it not her little offering of love to her Master?
When it was all over, and the views had beenseen, and the story told, and the oranges eaten, and the happy children gone, Hugh said:
"Ihaveenjoyed it."
"So did everyone, I think," remarked Alice.
"In spite of its having been a secret," he went on, smiling; "but another time (though I oughtn't to have been cross over it), if you want to give a fellow pleasure, don't surprise him."
"We will not," said Agnes, glad to see the twinkle in Hugh's eye.
And then tired-out they hastily ate some supper and hurried off to bed, too fatigued to fulfil their intention of sitting up to see the year out.
"I'll set the alarum and wake you all," said John.
So the alarum was set, and they went to bed in peaceful anticipations of waking just in time.
By-and-by it went off with a peal which always startled him in spite of his determination, and out John sprang and struck a match.
"Hugh, get up," he called, "it is ten minutes to—why it is ten minutespasttwelve, and no good at all!"
A
gnes, my child, being left in charge does not agree with you."
"Why, auntie?"
"Your mother will find but a shadow of the rosy girl she left behind her."
Agnes sighed, and then got up and looked in the glass.
"I do not see that I am different," she said, after a moment's contemplation.
"No, I daresay you would not notice it in yourself from day to day. But you have nothing special to trouble you, my dear, I hope?"
"Not at all, auntie. But I had no idea the anxiety of a family would be so great."
Aunt Phyllis smiled a sweet placid smile, which proceeded from a heart at rest after storms.
"You ought not to be carrying your own burdens though, dear child," she said softly.
Agnes had seated herself at her aunt's feet, onthe wide stool which the children said was made on purpose for them to share, and now looked up in her aunt's face with tearful eyes.
"No," she said; "that is often what grieves me. I am afraid, auntie, I thought I should besureto get on, and trusted in my own cleverness too much, and then when difficulties come I get downhearted."
"And do you try the remedy of taking everything to your Lord directly it comes?"
"Yes; but things are so difficult to decide, and I am so disappointed in myself."
"You thought you were so much stronger than you find yourself?"
"Yes; and John looks up to me, and I hoped I should be a help to him; and instead I've done nothing but find out that I'm no good at all."
"I suppose you are rather tired of gazing in the looking-glass, then?" said Aunt Phyllis quaintly.
"Auntie?"
"I'd look towards the sky next, if I were you!" she added, smiling, as she got up to go and fetch some work.
Agnes was left alone; and she glanced first in the fire, and then at the mirror above her head, and then her eyes wandered to the window.
"I see!" she exclaimed, a light breaking over her downcast face; "I'm to look off to Jesus; that's what auntie means!"
That morning Agnes had passed through someof those little difficulties which so often arise in daily life.
First the housemaid had accosted her with the ominous words, "Please, miss, could I speak to you?" and had thereupon given her a month's notice.
On her pressing for a reason the maid had said, with many blushes, that she was intending to be married directly her time was up.
"But can you not wait till mother comes home?" pleaded Agnes. "I trust she will be home in March; that would be only another month. Could you not arrange it so?"
But the girl persisted that she could not alter; and so Agnes had had reluctantly to make up her mind to a fresh responsibility, and determined to consult her Aunt Phyllis on the subject.
And while her mind was perturbed with the annoyance of having to install another servant in her mother's absence, came another small trouble.
Alice sauntered into the room with a book in her hand, and sat down on the hearthrug close to the fire.
"Alice dear," said Agnes looking up, "have you cleaned the bird's cage? It is the day for fresh sand."
"I did it yesterday," answered Alice absently, bending over her book.
"I think not," answered Agnes, "in fact I am sure of it; because, don't you remember, we allwent out with Aunt Phyllis the moment after breakfast?"
"Then it was the day before."
"So it may have been; but mother likes new sand put every other day, without fail."
"I'll see to it presently," said Alice, a little frown just settling itself on her brows.
Agnes made no further remark, though she felt ruffled, and was sure Alice would forget after all.
Then John came in. "Agnes, Hugh and I want a fire in our room. As it's the last day of the holidays, we are going to have our long-deferred turn-out."
"Very well; but, John, don't you toss everything out on the landing for me to clear up."
"Is it likely?" asked he, surprised.
Agnes did not feel as if she could look up brightly in answer, so she turned to her desk and began to search for something.
"Lost something?" asked John, bending down and looking in her face.
"I don't know," she answered, detecting a significance in his kindly tone.
He kissed her and went off, and then Hugh walked in.
"Agnes, I want to know if you could find John and me a curtain to stretch across our large room?"
"Whatever for?"
"To divide it. John likes a place to himself; we want to make it into two rooms. It has twowindows, and so we are going to make ourselves cosy."
"Oh, Hugh, I do not know of any curtain; I really think it will have to wait till mother comes."
"But we wanted to do it to-day. Don't you think you know of anything?"
She shook her head.
"Not an old table-cloth, or a couple of done-with window curtains?"
"I do not know in the least, and I should not like to search in mother's stores."
"She wouldn't mind."
"She might. Oh, Hugh dear, it must wait."
"Very well," answered Hugh, looking disappointed.
"Did John tell you to ask?" said Agnes.
"No, not exactly; he said he wished you could, but he was afraid it was too much bother."
"I am afraid I can't manage it," she answered regretfully.
All this time Alice's eyes had been raised from her book, as she was interested in the discussion, but as Hugh was turning to leave the room she took up her book again.
"I should think Alice would be glad to begin lessons," he observed, stopping short with his hand on the door.
There was a mischievous look in his eyes.
"I shall not," answered Alice.
"When are you to begin?"
"I don't know."
"To-morrow," answered Agnes.
"To-morrow?" echoed Alice; "I thought we should have holiday till they came back."
"What, nearly two months more to roast over the fire and read novels!" laughed Hugh.
"I don't read novels."
"Stories then."
"And I don't roast over the fire."
"What do you call this?" he asked, advancing to her and passing his hand down her shoulder. "My eye, Alice, you are next door to on fire!"
"I'm not! I wish you wouldn't come bothering. Hugh."
Having lodged his bombshell he departed, leaving Alice writhing under the certainty that now "beginning lessons" was put into Agnes's head nothing would get it out again.
"I am going in to Aunt Phyllis," said her sister, getting up and putting away her desk.
"I shall come too then," said Alice.
"Do not come just yet, dear, I want to talk to auntie."
"You're always talking to auntie, I think," grumbled Alice.
"Always?" asked Agnes, feeling as if that were the last worry, and she could not bear more.
"Well, not always; but, Agnes, I hope you will not let her persuade you to begin school with Minnie and me to-morrow because——"
"Well?" asked Agnes.
"I don't know exactly why, but it's horrid if you do, because I haven't had half enough time; and I neverthoughtwe should begin when the boys did."
"I never thought anything else," answered Agnes; and then she had gone in next door with a sense of utter failure.
And so Aunt Phyllis was right when she advised her to raise her eyes heavenward.
I
say, John, 'this 'ere' is rather tiring; and when we've done there will be nothing to show for it."
"Only our possessions will be in order, and we shall start straight for the next term."
"I don't know about that. Look at my possessions, and see if you call that 'straight'?"
John picked his way over the drawers and boxes scattered everywhere, and surveyed his brother's treasures. There they were, lying in a heap—clothes, collars, neckties, papers, nails, string, knives, corks, ships, balls, fishing tackle, all mixed up pell-mell.
"Is that your idea of tidying?" he asked.
"Yes; put 'em all together, and then you know what you have to do, and can act accordingly."
"I should think so! Act! all I can say is, I'd rather it was you than me."
"How do you do it then?" asked Hugh hopelessly, watching his brother step back to his own precincts.
"I take out one thing after another, and put those I want on the bed—so, and tear up and burn what I don't want."
"And a nice smell you make!" said Hugh, laughing.
"Eh? oh, well, that's what a fire's for, to air the room."
"With a vengeance. I wish Agnes could have found us a large rag of some sort."
"You'd have been for ever playing pranks behind it, and peeping through the holes of your 'rag;' I'm not sorry on the whole she could not."
"I shouldn't have. However, that's neither here nor there. I'm going up to the attics to find my hammer; I believe Agnes has put it away tidily."
He went off, and presently John heard him shouting for him to come up.
"What do you want?" he called in answer.
"You."
"What for?"
"A find; a grand idea."
John went up, expecting a hoax, but yet reassured by the earnestness of Hugh's tone.
"Look here," exclaimed a voice from the depths of a small attic where only a few boxes were kept, "if you don't think I've lighted on a splendid plan. Here's a room for you all ready, and we'venothing to do but carry up the bed, and there you are."
By this time John stood in the low doorway of the little room, and looked round.
His mind quickly placed a little furniture round it, and hung his pictures and text on its bare walls, and in a few moments it became his own little room, full of his own things.
"Or I could have it," broke in Hugh's voice.
"Oh, no," answered John hastily, "I should like it very much. But what will Agnes say?"
"Shewon't mind so long as we do no mischief. Let's surprise her."
John looked dubious.
"It can't be any harm," said Hugh.
"I'll just go and tell her," answered John.
He ran down. "Where's Agnes?" he asked of Alice, who was still reading.
"In next door," said Alice, "at least she was, but I believe I saw her go along with grandmama just now."
"When will she be home?"
"I don't know."
"I say, Alice, you'll make yourself ill so near the fire. Where's Minnie?"
"She went in after Agnes."
John withdrew, and returned to Hugh.
"She's out, Hugh," he said.
"That's all right then. We'll have a jolly time, and get it done to surprise her."
"But what about your grand heap?"
"Stuff them in again; they can't be worse than they were."
"I wonder if we ought to sort them out first?" said John, considering.
"I'm not going to; that would be no fun at all."
John yielded for a moment, then he paused.
"Hugh, Agnes would be right down vexed with us, and we should deserve it. I won't do a stroke till we've cleared this."
Hugh made a face; but when John's voice tookthattone it was of no use objecting, so they sorted out and put up as quickly as they could, Hugh privately shirking any idea of thoroughness, till about twelve o'clock order once more reigned, and the boys' spirits began to rise.
"I say," remarked John, surveying his new domain, "I wish I'd asked Jane to clean this while we were putting up, it looks mighty dusty and queer."
"Well, we can't now," said Hugh.
"No, I daresay it would take ages."
"I can sweep it," said Hugh; "but that would be a hindrance; let's get in the things and they'll cover up the dirt."
"Nice that!" remarked John; "but as it is notyourroom it won't matter."
"No," assented Hugh; "and if it were, I should not care particularly. Now, John, what is the first thing to do?"
"Bring up the chest of drawers."
"That's my chest of drawers. You don't mean to say——"
"Well, what am I to do?" said John, pausing in this first difficulty; "you can't suppose I can go without a chest of drawers."
"No; I don't see that you can; but, then, no more can I."
"That's unanswerable; but as there's only one, what's to be done?"
"Ican have it," answered Hugh slyly; "it belongs to my room!"
As his brother did not immediately reply, Hugh saw he had gained an advantage.
"Here's a go," said John, looking round in dismay. "Now I shouldn't wonder if you didn't claim the washstand too."
"Then Iwillclaim it," said Hugh with a wink.
And sure enough Hugh kept the washstand.
"Well, I've got my own bed," said John; "you can't take that from under me."
Decidedly with lowered spirits he descended to see about the bedstead, unforeseen difficulties in the direction of Agnes looming before him; but the delight of planning how it was to go through the door whole, turned off his thoughts.
At last the actual moment arrived. The clothes and mattresses were heaped on Hugh's bed, and they began wheeling it about in fine style.
It was just too wide to go through the door, but the boys did not take long to turn it on its side. They had succeeded in almost clearing the back and tallest end, when the banisters proved an insuperable barrier to further progress.
"We must take it down," said John.
"I'm stuck. I say, John, did you ever happen to mistake your fingers for the painted legs?"
"Not that I know of. Look, what a precious mark you've made on the door that side."
"Where?"
"There! just where you say your fingers grazed it."
"It'll come off," said Hugh, applying his pocket-handkerchief, having first conveyed it to his tongue; but it didn't, and Hugh shrugged his shoulders.
"Lesson No. 1. Don't knock your fingers," he said.
"Lesson No. 2," remarked John. "Do you know how to take down these precious things?"
"Lesson No. 3. Shall learn."
"Then do go up and get us a screw-driver; if this comes to grief I shall tell Agnes it was all you."
"You seem afraid of Agnes," laughed Hugh.
"Not at all. But you know we are 'on the spree;' and I don't want to do what she would not like, which would be no spree."
The screw-driver was found, and then they began in earnest; but before long the bumps and scrapes brought Jane up from below.
"Now, master John, are you gone mad?" she asked.
"Don't you say a syllable, Jane, or I'll skin you," said Hugh coaxingly; "it would spoil all our fun."
"What on earth are you doing then?" she asked.
"I'll call you up to see when we've done; but do leave us now, there's a good soul."
She went down again, looking rather scared; but the cook happened to be busy, and did not notice it.
The bedstead now lay at their feet in pieces, which they quickly carried upstairs, and by-and-by were able to set up to their great satisfaction.
"Well, I call that prime," said Hugh; "now for the clothes and things."
These were soon on; and the room began to look "like a room," as John said.
"Might that window be grey ground glass, or might it be dirt?" asked Hugh, going up to examine it, and drawing his finger down it.
The question did not need answering, for he left a line of clear glass behind him.
"Wait till I've got the rest of my furniture up, and then I'll see to things," said John.
"The rest of it?" laughed Hugh. "I think this is all of it; the rest belongs to me."
"Hugh, you're a cheat! Do you mean to say I'm not to have a chair?"
"Oh, yes, I'll spare you a chair!"
"And that little table's myown; so now, Mr. Hugh!"
"So it is; what a bore! Why I was perfectly counting on that table when your things were gone off it."
"Very likely; you're sold there! But what shall I do to wash on? I dare say Agnes has got a basin somewhere."
"There's an odd set in here!" exclaimed Hugh, springing up and hurrying into the box room next door.
John followed quickly enough, and to his joy found an old mahogany stand which would do very well for the crockery which he discovered on a top shelf covered with dust.
"How shall we wash it?" he asked.
"I'll get our towels; Agnes'llhaveto give us clean ones."
They pulled about the boxes and things till they had secured their prize, and then went back in triumph to John's "castle."
"Hugh, I shall never have you in here," said John.
"Grateful," said Hugh.
"I mean, without asking."
"Oh, of course not! Nor I you."
"I must come in when I want my things out of my drawer," said John ruefully.
"What a pity we can't find a chest to match that jimcrack in the corner!"
"Let's go and see."
No sooner said than done, and sure enough there was a set, but on looking every drawer was full.
The boys were now so thoroughly in the spirit of the thing that they forgot all caution, and after a rapid glance to see where they could stow the things, out they bundled them heap on heap, till the drawers were empty, then they paused and looked at each other.
"I say, Hugh, we are in for it now; I don't believe we ought to have done this."
"It can't be helped now; we must eat humble pie."
"Look here, I won't do a thing more of this sort. Here's a precious mess for that poor Agnes, and I scouted the idea of giving her any trouble."
"She'll be home soon, if she isn't now."
"Then let's make haste. Fetch up my things. Hugh, will you?"
Hugh ran down and soon brought up a drawer full, and hastened off for another. For the girls to see it before it was accomplished and in order, would spoil everything.
"Now for the window," exclaimed John; "and my pictures. I say, there's no carpet."
"Do without."
"I shall have to."
"There's lots in there," nodding towards the box-room.
"Out they bundled them heap on heap, till the drawers were empty."p. 166.
"Out they bundled them heap on heap, till the drawers were empty."
p. 166.
"Not I," answered John. "I'm not fond of this sort of thing, Hugh; I wish I'd waited."
"Well, make the best of it now," said Hugh; "we have done noharm."
"Oh, no!" said John.
John was hard at work on the window, making his towel in a worse mess than it was before, when an exclamation from Hugh made him turn round.
"They're coming up," he called excitedly. "All three of 'em. I can hear their voices."
For Jane had said, in answer to Agnes's enquiry as to where her brothers were:
"Right at the top, I believe, miss."
So up they came, and all Hugh's "humble pie" was demolished before he had time to produce it.
"John! Hugh! whateverareyou after? Are you gone out of your wits?"
"Come and look, Agnes," said John, hurrying to her, "and don't be vexed, there's a darling. I wanted a room to myself, and we meant to surprise you; but when we'd got half through it I began to fear you would be more than surprised."
An hour or two ago Agnes would have been vexed, almost angry; now she had been to the Fountain of Strength, and coming refreshed from Him she answered gently:
"I can't say that I would rather you had done it, but I'll try to like it if you wish."
She kissed their hot, dusty faces and looked round.
"If you point out anything wrong I'll say 'Hugh did it,'" smiled John, "and he is to say 'John did it' if he is blamed."
"I see," answered Agnes.
"Isn't it a nice little room?"
"Very. I wonder mother never thought of it before."
"Hurrah!" exclaimed Hugh. "Now, Agnes, you'll not mend that; it's as good as a whole volume of permission. Let's go down to dinner after that."
But as they went down John said to her:
"You're not really vexed, dear girl?"
"No, dear," she answered, looking up brightly. "If you are pleased, I'm sure mother will not mind till she has time to think about it. But. John, the dirt——"
"Oh, that'll come all right," said John.
T
he next morning everything was bustle till the boys were off; for imperceptibly they had got a little later during holiday time, and on this first day of school they discovered it, in finding no breakfast ready when they came down.
But by dint of a little hurrying, and a decidedly short meal for the boys, they really did start in time.
"Thanks to you girls," said John gratefully, as he caught up his books and ran off. "My last term at school, Agnes!"
"Now here we are once more," said Agnes with a deep sigh, gazing round on the room, which looked ever so much more empty than if her brothers had just started for an ordinary walk.
"Now I supposewehave to begin school?" said Alice with a wry face. But the wry face was put on, and the frown was gone—gone from her heart too; for yesterday she had looked once more at thetext on the wall, and had yielded herself again to its influence.
"I was thinking," answered Agnes, "that we would give ourselves a holiday to do John's room."
"Jolly!" exclaimed Minnie. "I can clean and scrub beautifully; Jane says I can."
"We must all help to surprise him, for they will be home at one, and we have plenty of work before us."
"What shall we begin on?" asked Alice.
"I have to do a very quick piece of business, which if you like you may come up to the top to superintend; and then, Alice, I want you to go round to the picture-frame shop in Southampton Street, and tell the man I will send for it at eleven o'clock."
She ran upstairs without explaining further, followed by the wondering girls; and then they saw her take down John's cardboard text very carefully, and wrap it in paper.
"Now, Alice, as fast as you like there and back; and Minnie must go with you."
"But you will do ever so much before we come," said Alice, looking disappointed.
"No; I am going down to see about the dinner, and if you are not long will wait till you return."
"But will the man understand what is to be done?"
"Yes; I went about it yesterday, and I told himit was a secret, and so he would have to do it expeditiously."
"I see. Well, come along Minnie, the sooner we are off the sooner we shall be home."
In half an hour's time they were back, and met Agnes coming up from her confabulations with the cook.
"Just in time," she said, smiling.
"Should you have begun without us?" asked Minnie.
"Not till ten."
"That's all right. Now then, Agnes, what are we to do?"
"Go down and ask Jane for some cloths, and brooms, and a tin basin."
Minnie opened her eyes, but Alice ran off.
They met Jane on the stairs with a pail and scrubbing-brush. "Are you going to help us?" asked Alice; and Jane nodded with a smile.
Up they all went, and found a bright little fire burning in the already clean grate of John's little attic.
"Oh!" exclaimed Alice; "whoever thought of that? What's it for?"
"What are fires generally for?" asked Agnes.
"To warm people," said Minnie.
"And don't you think we should feel it rather cold to be up here for three hours, straight off, this bitter day?"
"So we should. Well, Agnes, what first?"
"Jane is to properly clean that smeary window; and we will wash the chest of drawers and the washstand and the crockery while she is doing it."
"Whatever for?"
"To get off the dirt," laughed Agnes.
"I can't think why things get dirty!"
"It's London smoke," remarked Alice sententiously.
"And dust," said Agnes. While she spoke she handed two aprons to her sisters, and a clean piece of flannel each; and before they could ask any more questions she had lifted out the drawers, one by one, and was sweeping the ledges inside. Then she began washing and rubbing and drying in fine style, the little girls imitating her example as fast as they could.
But Jane's window was done before their furniture, and she immediately began to clean the paint round the room.
"This paper looks dirty, miss. I wish you would let me rub it with some bread."
"I do not mind," answered Agnes, looking up from under the washstand, "if you think it will look better."
"I'm sure it will, miss."
"I'll run for the bread," exclaimed Minnie, starting up.
"Mind you say a stale loaf, miss; and a knife!" called Jane, turning round, to see only the tip of one of Minnie's curls flying down the stairs.
Then all was sober work for another half-hour, and after that came a pause.
"This floor looks black; it wants doing, I think," remarked Minnie.
Jane laughed.
"Don't you think it does, Jane?" said Minnie soberly. "Look there, and there; but it's all over."
"I shouldn't wonder," said Jane.
"Then do you mean to do it?" asked Minnie.
For answer Jane went down on her knees and began to scrub, while Agnes led the way into the box-room, the children following to see what she was going to do.
She drew out the roll of carpet which Hugh had fixed his eyes on the day before, and they carried it to the landing and spread it open under the skylight.
Agnes selected what she wanted for her purpose, and told Alice to roll the other up again. Then she produced from her pocket a skein of thread and two large needles, and handing one to Alice, she proceeded to thread her own.
"What am I to do?" asked Alice.
"Sew up that bit of seam that is ripped."
Alice sat down on the ground, and after some difficulty succeeded in reducing a rent of a quarter of a yard to a pretty respectable seam.
"Well done!" said Agnes. "Now let us have another look. Oh, yes, there is a place torn! and while I do it will you two go round again for myframe? The room will be dry, and we can do the final touches all together."
There could be no objection to this, and the children hastened away just as Jane came out with her pail and brushes. "It's all done, miss," she said.
"Then, when they return, will you come up again, Jane? I shall not want you till then."
They all ran down, and left Agnes alone. She finished the carpet, and then went into the box-room and looked round.
"Oh, Master John," she said, half aloud, "of course you were not going to give me anything to do; but just look here! However," she added, smiling to herself, "perhapsthiswas Hugh!"
So patiently she set herself to make the best of it. She folded, and sorted, and pinned up in bundles, and had nearly finished tidying the great heap, when the children came hurrying back, bearing in their arms a nice Oxford frame, through the glass of which shone out what was to be John's life-text, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?"
"Oh, Agnes," said Minnie, "did you buy it with your very own money?"
"Don't you like it?" answered Agnes.
"I wishIhad one," said Alice wistfully.
"If you will paint one for yourself I'll have it framed," promised Agnes.
Then up came Jane, and once more they set to work.
Agnes found a piece of red valance for the top of the window, and got out two clean toilet-covers, and they laid the carpet down, hung the frame on the wall, and Alice dusted the mantelshelf. Then they paused and looked round.
"It is lovely!" said Minnie. "I wish it weremyroom."
"So does everybody," said Alice. "Is it really finished, Agnes?"
"I think so. Now as we still have half-an-hour, let us go and see what can be done for poor old Hugh. His room looks rather forlorn as it is."
"So it does," said Minnie; "and the place where John's bed stood is all bare."
"He wants a tabledreadfully," said Alice, "now John's is gone."
"Well, I haven't one for him; but we will go and have a look, while Jane sweeps a little; perhaps we may find something which will serve for one."
They went back into the box-room. "Here is a little round table with one leg off," announced Alice, from the depths of a corner.
"Is the leg there?"
"I can't see it."
"Then it's of no use."
"My eyes are sharp," exclaimed Minnie, jumping over the boxes and bundles and sliding down somewhere near Alice.
"How you startled me!" said Alice; "but however sharp your eyes are, Miss Minnie, you won't find it here."
But she did for all that. She went to work carefully, poking about with her little hands without disturbing anything, and when the others had given it up as hopeless, a joyful cry from her announced its discovery.
They were just fitting it into its place and considering whether Hugh would be able to mend it, when the two boys came rushing up the stairs from school.
"I'm moved up!" exclaimed Hugh, long before he got in sight of his sisters. "Whatever are you girls doing up here? Isn't that jolly for me?"
They congratulated him on this joyful piece of school news, and then Agnes, who had been holding the handle of John's door in her hand all this time, said solemnly:
"John, the dirt in your room has disappeared by magic!"
"How?" asked John.
"By magic—look!"
She flung the door open, and the boys crowded in.
"Well," exclaimed John, "words fail me!" Then he paused as his eyes fell upon his text in its new setting.
"Agnes!"
"That's with my best love," answered Agnes, blushing. "It is worth framing."