That Stick | Page 4

house, they entered by the back door, and turning into a little parlour, they threw off their hats and gloves. The younger one began to lay the table for dinner, while the elder, throwing herself down panting, called out--
'Ma, here's a letter from uncle. I'll open it. I hope he's not crusty about that horrid low millinery business.'
'Yes, do,' called back a voice across the tiled passage. 'I've had no time. This girl has put me about so with Mrs. Leeson's luncheon that I've not had a moment. Of all the sluts I've ever been plagued with, she's the very worst, and so I tell her till I'm ready to drop. What is it then, Ida?' as an inarticulate noise was heard.
[Picture: Frontispiece--Ma! ma!]
'Ma! ma! uncle is a lord!' came back in a gasp.
'What?'
'Uncle's a lord! Oh!'
'Your uncle! That stick of a man! Don't be putting your jokes on me, when I'm worrited to death!' exclaimed Mrs. Morton, in fretful tones.
'No joke. It's true--Lord Northmoor.' And this brought Mrs. Morton out of the kitchen in her apron and bib, with a knife in one hand and a bunch of parsley in the other. She was a handsome woman, in the same style as Ida, but her complexion had grown harder than accorded with the slightly sentimental air she assumed when she had time to pity herself.
'It is! it is!' persisted Ida, reading scraps from the letter; '"Title and estates devolve on me--family bereavements--elder line extinct."'
'Give me the letter. Oh, you gave me such a turn!' said Mrs. Morton, sinking into a chair.
'What's the row?' said another voice, as a sturdy bright-eyed boy, between the ages of his sisters, came bouncing in. 'I say, I want my grub--and be quick!'
'Oh, Herbert, my dear boy,' and his mother hugged him, 'your uncle is a lord, and you'll be one one of these days.'
'I say, don't lug a man's head off. Who has been making a fool of you?'
'Uncle Frank is Lord Northmoor,' said Ida impressively.
'I say, that's a good one!' and Herbert threw himself into a chair in fits of laughter.
'It is quite true, Herbert,' said his mother. 'Here is the letter.'
A bell rang sharply.
'Bless me! I shall not hear much more of that bell, I hope. Run up, Conny, and say Mrs. Leeson's lunch will be up in a moment, but we were hindered by unexpected news,' said Mrs. Morton, bustling into the kitchen. 'Oh dear! one doesn't know where one is.'
'Let her ring,' said Ida. 'Send her off, bag and baggage! We've done with lodgings and milliners and telegraphs, and all that's low. We shall all be lords and ladies, and ever so rich.'
'Hold hard!' said Herbert, who had got possession of the letter. 'He doesn't say so.'
'He'll be nasty and mean, I daresay,' said Ida. 'What does he say? I hadn't time to see.'
Herbert read from the neat, formal, distinct writing: "I do not yet know what is in my power, nor what means I may be able to command; but I hope to make your position more comfortable and to give my nephew and nieces a really superior education. You had better, however, not take any steps till you hear from me again." There, Ida, lots of schooling, that's all.'
'Nonsense, Bertie; he must--if he is a lord, what are we?'
Hunger postponed this great question for a little while; but dinner had been delayed till the afternoon school hour had passed, and indeed the young people agreed that they were far above going to their present teachers any more.
'We must acquire a few accomplishments,' said Ida. 'Uncle never would afford me lessons on the piano--such a shame; but he can't refuse me now. Dancing lessons, too, we will have; and then, oh, Conny! we will go to Court, and how they will admire us!'
At which Herbert burst out laughing loudly, and his mother rebuked him. 'You will be a nobleman, Herbert, and your sisters a nobleman's sisters. Why should they not go to Court like the best of them?'
'That's all my eye!' said Herbert. 'The governor has got a young woman of his own, hasn't he?'
'That dowdy old teacher!' said Ida. 'Of course he won't marry her now.'
'She will be artful enough to try to hold him to it, you may depend on it,' said Mrs. Morton; 'but I shall take care he knows what a shame and disgrace it would be. Oh no; he will not dare.'
'She is awfully old,' said Ida.
'Not near so old as Miss Pottle, who was married yesterday,' said Constance, who, at the time of her father's death, and at other times when the presence of a young child was felt to be inconvenient at home, had stayed with her grandmother at Hurminster, and had grown fond of Miss Marshall.
'Don't talk about what you