Mohun, from Beechcroft: ‘Coming 6.30. Going with you. Send children here.’
Never were twenty words, including addresses, more satisfactory. The tears came, for the first time, to Lady Merrifield’s eyes at the kindness of her brothers, and Harry was quite satisfied that his uncle would be a far better escort than himself or Macrae. Aunt Jane went off to send her telegram home and write some needful letters, and Lady Merrifield announced her arrangements to those whom they concerned.
‘Oh! mamma, don’t,’ exclaimed Valetta; ‘all the guinea-pigs will die.’
‘I thought,’ said Gillian, ‘that we might stay here with Miss Vincent to look after us.’
‘That will not do in her mother’s state. Mrs. Vincent cannot be moved up here, and I could not lay such a burthen on them.’
‘We would be very good,’ said Val.
‘That, I hope, you will be any way; but I think it will be easier at Rockstone, and I am quite sure that papa and I shall be better satisfied about you.’
‘Mayn’t we take Quiz!’ asked Fergus.
‘And Rigdum Funnidos?’ cried Valetta.
‘And Ruff and Ring?’ chimed in Mysie.
‘My dear children, I don’t see how Aunt Jane can be troubled with any more animals than your four selves. You must ask her, only do not be surprised or put out if she refuses, for I don’t believe you can keep anything there.’
Off the three younger ones went, Gillian observing, ‘I don’t see how they can, unless it was Quiz; but, mamma, don’t you think I might go to Beechcroft with Primrose? I should be so much quieter working for the examination there, and I could send my exercises to Miss Vincent; and then I should keep up Prim’s lessons.’
‘Your aunt Alethea will, I know, like doing that, my dear; and I am afraid to turn those creatures loose on the aunts without some one to look after them and their clothes. Fanny will be very helpful; but it will not do to throw too much on her.’
‘Oh! I thought they would have Lois—’
‘There would not be room for her; besides that, I don’t think it would suit your aunts. You and Mysie ought to do all the mending for yourselves and Fergus, and what Valetta cannot manage. I know you would rather be at Beechcroft, my dear; but in this distress and difficulty, some individual likings must be given up.’
‘Yes, mamma.’
Lady Merrifield looked rather dubiously at her daughter. She had very little time, and did not want to have an argument, nor to elicit murmurs, yet it might be better to see what was in Gillian’s mind before it was too late. Mothers, very fond of their own sisters, cannot always understand why it is not the same with their daughters, who inherit another element of inherited character, and of another generation, and who have not been welded together with the aunts in childhood. ‘My dear,’ she said, ‘you know I am quite ready to hear if you have any real reasonable objection to this arrangement.’
‘No, mamma, I don’t think I have,’ said Gillian thoughtfully. ‘The not liking always meeting a lot of strangers, nor the general bustle, is all nonsense, I know quite well. I see it is best for the children, but I should like to know exactly who is to be in authority over them.’
‘Certainly Aunt Jane,’ replied Lady Merrifield. ‘She must be the ultimate authority. Of course you will check the younger ones in anything going wrong, as you would here, and very likely there will be more restrictions. Aunt Ada has to be considered, and it will be a town life; but remember that your aunt is mistress of the house, and that even if you do think her arrangements uncalled for, it is your duty to help the others to submit cheerfully. Say anything you please fully and freely in your letters to me, but don’t let there be any collisions of authority. Jane will listen kindly, I know, in private to any representation you may like to make, but to say before the children, “Mamma always lets them,” would be most mischievous.’
‘I see,’ said Gillian. ‘Indeed, I will do my best, mamma, and it will not be for very long.’
‘I hope and trust not, my dear child. Perhaps we shall all meet by Easter—papa, and all; but you must not make too sure. There may be delays. Now I must see Halfpenny. I cannot talk to you any more, my Gillyflower, though I am leaving volumes unsaid.
Gillian found Aunt Jane emerging from her room, and beset by her three future guests.
‘Aunt Jane, may we bring Quiz?’
‘And Rigdum Funnidos and Lady Rigdum?’
‘And Ruff and Ring? They are the sweetest doves in the world.’
‘Doves! Oh, Mysie, they would drive your aunt Ada distracted, with coo-roo-roo at four o’clock in the morning, just as she goes off to sleep.’
‘The Rigdums make no noise but a dear little chirp,’ triumphantly exclaimed Valetta.
‘Do you mean the kittens? We have a vacancy for one cat, you know.’
Oh yes, we want you to choose between Artaxerxes and the Sofy. But the Rigdums are the eldest pair of guinea-pigs. They are so fond of me, that I know poor old Funnidos will die of grief if I go away and leave him.’
‘I sincerely hope not, Valetta, for, indeed, there is no place to put him in.’
‘I don’t think he would mind living in the cellar if he only saw me once a day,’ piteously pleaded Valetta.
‘Indeed, Val, the dark and damp would surely kill the poor thing, in spite of your attentions. You must make up your mind to separation from your pets, excepting the kitten.’
Valetta burst out crying at this last drop that made the bucket overflow, but Fergus exclaimed: ‘Quiz! Aunt Jane! He always goes about with us, and always behaves like a gentleman, don’t you, Quizzy?’ and the little Maltese, who perfectly well understood that there was trouble in the air, sat straight up, crossed his paws, and looked touchingly wistful.
‘Poor dear little fellow!’ said Aunt Jane; ‘yes, I knew he would be good, but Kunz would be horribly, jealous, you see; he is an only dog, and can’t bear to have his premises invaded.’
‘He ought to be taught better,’ said Fergus gravely.
‘So he ought,’ Aunt Jane confessed; ‘but he is too old to begin learning, and Aunt Ada and Mrs. Mount would never bear to see him disturbed. Besides, I really do not think Quiz would be half so well off there as among his own friends and places here, with Macrae to take care of him.’ Then as Fergus began to pucker his face, she added, ‘I am really very sorry to be so disagreeable.’
‘The children must not be unreasonable,’ said Gillian sagely, as she came up.
‘And I am to choose between Xerxes and Artaxerxes, is it?’ said Aunt Jane.
‘No, the Sofy,’ said Mysie. ‘A Sofy is a Persian philosopher, and this kitten has got the wisest face.’
‘Run and fetch them,’ suggested her aunt, ‘and then we can choose. Oh,’ she added, with some relief at the thought, ‘if it is an object to dispose of Cockie, we could manage him.’
The two younger ones were gratified, but Gillian and Mysie both exclaimed that Cockie’s exclusive affections were devoted to Macrae, and that they could not answer for his temper under the separation. To break up such a household was decidedly the Goose, Fox, and Cabbage problem. As Mysie observed, in the course of the search for the kittens, in the make-the-best-of-it tone, ‘It was not so bad as the former moves, when they were leaving a place for good and all.’
‘Ah, but no place was ever so good as this,’ said poor Valetta.
‘Don’t be such a little donkey,’ said Fergus consequentially. ‘Don’t you know we are going to school, and I am three years younger than Wilfred was?’
‘It is only a petticoat school,’ said Val, ‘kept by ladies.’
‘It isn’t.’
‘It is; I heard Harry say so.’
‘And