That Stick | Page 4

these. One was so tall
though very slight, that in spite of the dark hair streaming in the wind,
she looked more than her fifteen years, and her brilliant pink-and-white
complexioned face confirmed the impression. Her sister, keeping as
much as she could under her lee, was about twelve years old, much
more childish as well as softer, smaller, with lighter colouring and blue
eyes. Going round the end of the 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