The Little School-Mothers

“Take my hand, Wobbin. Wobbin, let’s wun acwoss garden!” cried little Rose.

“Oh, Robin! I don’t talk as badly as that,” said the more important Violet.

Robina sat down on the window-sill, and played to her heart’s content with the two. In this attitude Miss Jennings found them.

“Now, Robina – I forbid you to spoil those children. Violet don’t attempt to cry, or you shall leave the room. Rose, put on your pinafore at once, miss. Now come to the table, all three of you, and let us begin breakfast.”

Miss Jennings seated herself by the tea-tray. She littered a short grace, and then porridge was dispensed. Little Rose could not bear porridge, and at once began to whimper.

“Don’t cry!” said Miss Jennings. “If you do, you leave the room.”

“Eat up just a little bit, darling,” whispered Robina. “I have such jolly things to tell you afterwards. Has father come home?” continued Robina, fixing her eyes on her aunt’s face.

“Of course he has come home, my dear: why shouldn’t he come home? Don’t, I beg of you, Robina, ask silly questions. Your father has no other house to sleep in, therefore when he is sleepy, he comes home. He is in bed at the present moment, and goodness only knows when he will come down to breakfast.”

“Oh, I hope he will come down soon!” said Robina, “for I want him to open his letters.”

“Very impertinent and forward of you! Your father’s letters are not your concern.”

“Not always,” replied Robina, calmly, and helping herself to strawberry jam: “but those two happen to be.”

“Have you been trying to read them through the envelopes?”

“No: but I looked at the postmarks.”

Miss Jennings was silent for an awful moment. Then she said, impressively:

“Little girls; listen to me.”

The two children looked up expectantly.

“Never at any time copy the ways of your elder sister unless you wish to be whipped.”

Violet smiled rather vaguely. Rose’s little pale face grew paler. She nestled close to Robina.

“I ’uv oo, Wobbin,” she said then, in a low, tremulous whisper.

“Bravely spoken, darling,” whispered Robina back to her; and at that moment, to the relief of every one, Mr Starling entered the room.

His big presence and bright personality made a pleasing diversion.

“Hullo, monkey!” he said, the minute he saw Robina. “So you are back once more – the proverbial bad penny, eh?”

He pinched her cheek. “’Pon my word, you are looking fine! And how do you like school, monkey? and how is every bit of you? Glad to have you back: expect we’ll have some fun now.”

“Sit down, Edward, and don’t keep Robina standing any longer,” said Miss Jennings.

Mr Starling winked solemnly at his daughter, and took his seat.

“Hallo! What are these?” he said, as he saw his letters.

“They are for you, father,” said Robina, eagerly: “but I think they are about me.”

“About you, monkey! How can you know?”

“Don’t encourage her. Edward, don’t read those letters at present,” said Miss Jennings.

“Oh, please do, father,” said Robina.

“Peese, farzer, peese!” said little Rose. And “Please, father!” came in a more pronounced voice from Violet.

To the relief of everyone at that moment Miss Jennings received a hasty summons to run upstairs to her invalid sister. The moment she left the room, Mr Starling seized the first letter.

“Here goes!” he said. “When the cat’s away – now then, monkey, and you two, listen to me.”

He tore open Mr Durrant’s letter, glanced through the contents, uttered a hasty exclamation, and then proceeded to read it aloud.

“My dear Sir: – I have a very great favour to ask of you. I want to know if you will spare your dear girl, Robina, to me for the greater part of these holidays. I have just secured a charming house at Eastbourne, quite above the town, and in a comparatively country place. I don’t know what its real name is, and what is more, I don’t care; but while Robina is with us, it is to be called Sunshine Lodge. I am expecting also a number of her young school-companions to visit me. Mine will be a bachelor’s establishment, but it will be enlivened by the presence of my little boy, who is Robina’s very great friend, and whom she has managed to be uncommonly kind to. She will doubtless herself tell you the story of her friendship for my little son. In consequence of that, I have the very great pleasure of awarding to her a prize which she has most justly won. It was open to the competition of all her form, and she out of the eight girls came first in the list. My little son, Ralph, himself decided the matter. This prize is a pony which I am forwarding to your residence, Heather House. I bought it at Tattersall’s yesterday, and believe that it is a thoroughly sound and well-trained animal, accustomed to carrying a lady in the saddle. It has no tricks, and is altogether safe, and also spirited. The animal is not too large, and at the same time, not too small, so that it can be made use of not only when your little girl is still a child, but by and by, when she reaches woman’s estate. A habit has been made for her, of the newest design, and safety pattern, and was forwarded yesterday from Poole’s, in London. It ought to reach her about the time when you receive this letter. A side-saddle, of the most comfortable make, accompanies the pony. I am sending the pony and saddle by a man of my own, whom I hope you will make arrangements to quarter either in your establishment or in rooms near. The man is part of the prize. He undertakes all the care of the pony, and is, of course, paid by me. His wages need not trouble you in any manner, for you, my dear sir, have nothing to do with them. I am well aware, that, delightful as ponies are, they may sometimes arrive at country houses where they are not welcome for reasons which need not be described. It would be a shabby present on my part, if I put you to any expense with regard to it. My man will provide the pony with all necessary provender, and will send me the bill monthly.

“All these things, my dear sir, your daughter has earned by her most admirable conduct; and believe me, I am very much her debtor, and shall always remain so, for she has done for the dearest being on earth to me, more than money can ever repay.

“Believe me, Dear Sir, —

“Yours faithfully, —

    “Malcolm Durrant.”

“Oh!” said Robina, when the long letter had come to an end.

“Upon my word?” exclaimed her father.

He took up the other letter. It was merely an announcement that a horse of the name of “Bo-peep” was about to be forwarded by rail from Paddington that evening, and would arrive with his groom at the nearest station to Heather House at eleven o’clock the following morning.

“Why, the pony will be here in an hour!” said Mr Starling. “Dear! dear! dear! What a truly exciting, remarkable thing! Robina, monkey: what am I to make of you?”

Just then, Miss Jennings came into the room.

“Haven’t you done breakfast yet?” she said. “Oh, don’t make such confusion in the room, and don’t talk all of you at once.”

“We have something to talk about,” said her brother-in-law. “This child – this monkey of mine, has made her mark in the world already. She has got a pony of her own.”

“I have heard of it,” said Miss Jennings. “You do not intend to be such a fool as to keep it, Edward.”

“Keep it? I have nothing to do with it. The pony, Bo-peep by name, arrives with his own special groom, and the groom is found food and lodging and paid wages by Mr Durrant – Malcolm Durrant, the great traveller and explorer. I have no expense whatever with the pony. He belongs to Robina, and she has won him by doing some extraordinarily kind action – what, I cannot make out. For goodness’ sake, my dear Felicia, don’t get so excited. It is my turn to say ‘don’t’ to you now. Keep out of the way, if the news is not welcome to you. The pony is coming, and we can’t prevent its coming; it will be here in no time, and the children and Robina will, if I am not greatly mistaken, spend a small part of to-day trying his paces.”

“Then your two young children will be killed!” said Miss Felicia, folding her hands and standing stock-still for a minute and then preparing to leave the room.

A timid laugh from Violet, and a shriek of dismay from Rose greeted this utterance. But Robina clasped Rose in her arms.