The Trial [12]
their brother and sister; but the answer was, 'Ave is not so nice as you. Oh, do let us--' 'But I can't, my dears. I am Dr. May's child, you know. What could I say to him?' 'Oh! but Dr. May wouldn't mind! I know he wouldn't mind! Mamma says there was never any one so fond of little children, and he is such a dear good old gentleman.' Mary had not recognized him as an old gentleman at fifty-eight, and did not like it at all. She argued on the impracticability of taking them from their natural protectors, and again tried to lead them upwards, finally betaking herself to the repetition of hymns, which put them to sleep. She had spent some time in sitting between them in the summer darkness, when there was a low tap, and opening the door, she saw her father. Indicating that they slept, she followed him out, and a whispered conference took place as he stood below her on the stairs, their heads on a level. 'Tired, Mary? I have only just got rid of old Axworthy.' 'The nurse said you were busy with papers in Henry's room.' 'Ay--the Will. Henry behaves very well; and is full of right feeling, poor fellow!' 'What becomes of those dear little girls? They want to make themselves a present to me, and say they know you would like it.' 'So I should, the darlings! Well, as things are left, it all goes to Henry, except the L10,000 Ward had insured his life for, which divides between the five. He undertakes, most properly, to make them a home--whether in this house or not is another thing; he and Averil will look after them; and he made a most right answer when Mr. Axworthy offered to take Leonard into his office,' proceeded the communicative Doctor, unable to help pouring himself out, in spite of time and place, as soon as he had a daughter to himself. 'Settle nothing now--education not finished; but privately he tells me he believes his mother would as soon have sent Leonard to the hulks as to that old rascal, and the scamp, his grand-nephew.' Mary's answer to this, as his tones became incautiously emphatic, was a glance round all the attic doors, lest they should have ears. 'Now then, do you want to get home?' said the Doctor, a little rebuked. 'Oh no, not if there is anything I can do.' 'I want to get this girl away from Leonard. He is just come to the state when it all turns on getting him off to sleep quietly, and not disturbing him, and she is too excited and restless to do anything with her; she has startled him twice already, and then gets upset-- tired out, poor thing! and will end in being hysterical if she does not get fed and rested, and then we shall be done for! Now I want you to take charge of her. See, here's her room, and I have ordered up some tea for her. You must get her quieted down, make her have a tolerable meal, and when she has worked off her excitement, put her to bed--undressed, mind--and you might lie down by her. If you can't manage her, call me. That's Leonard's door, and I shall be there all night; but don't if you can help it. Can you do this, or must I get Miss "What-d'ye-call-her" the elder one, if she can leave the Greens in Randall's Alley? Well was it that Mary's heart was stout as well as tender; and instead of mentally magnifying the task, and diminishing her own capabilities, she simply felt that she had received a command, and merely asked that Ethel should be informed. 'I am going to send up to her.' 'And shall I give Averil anything to take?' 'Mutton-chops, if you can.' 'I meant sal-volatile, or anything to put her to sleep.' 'Nonsense! I hate healthy girls drugging themselves. You don't do that at home, Mary!' Mary showed her white teeth in a silent laugh at the improbability, there being nothing Ethel more detested than what she rather rudely called nervous quackeries. Her father gave her a kiss of grateful approbation, and was gone. There was a light on the table, and preparations for tea; and Mary looked round the pretty room, where the ornamental paper, the flowery chintz furniture, the shining brass of the bedstead, the frilled muslin toilet, and et ceteras, were more