The Carpenters Daughter | Page 9

bread very nicely, though with great pains, for the fire wasn't good; and the toast and a cup of tea she gave to her father. He eat it with an eagerness which let Nettie know she must make another slice as fast as possible.
"Hollo! Nettie--I say, give us some of that, will you?" said Barry, finding his porridge poor in taste.
"Barry, there isn't bread enough--I can't," whispered Nettie. "We've got to keep a loaf for supper."
"Eat what you've got, or let it alone!" thundered Mr. Mathieson, in the way he had when he was out of patience, and which always tried Nettie exceedingly.
"She's got more," said Barry. "She's toasting two pieces this minute. I want one."
"I'll knock you over, if you say another word," said his father. Nettie was frightened, for she saw he meant to have the whole, and she had destined a bit for her mother. However, when she gave her father his second slice, she ventured, and took the other with a cup of tea to the forlorn figure on the other side of the stove. Mrs. Mathieson took only the tea. But Mr. Mathieson's ire was roused afresh. Perhaps toast and tea didn't agree with him.
"Have you got all ready for Mr. Lumber?" he said, in a tone of voice very unwilling to be pleased.
"No," said his wife,--"I have had no chance. I have been cooking and clearing up all the morning. His room isn't ready."
"Well, you had better get it ready pretty quick. What's to do?"
"Everything's to do," said Mrs. Mathieson.
He swore at her. "Why can't you answer a plain question? I say, what's to do?"
"There's all Nettie's things in the room at present. They are all to move up stairs, and the red bedstead to bring down."
"No, mother," said Nettie, gently,--"all my things are up stairs already;--there's only the cot and the bed, that I couldn't move."
Mrs. Mathieson gave no outward sign of the mixed feeling of pain and pleasure that shot through her heart. Pleasure at her child's thoughtful love, pain that she should have to show it in such a way.
"When did you do it, Nettie?"
"This morning before breakfast, mother. It's all ready, father, if you or Barry would take up my cot and the bed, and bring down the other bedstead. It's too heavy for me."
"That's what I call doing business and having some spirit," said her father. "Not sitting and letting your work come to you. Here, Nettie--I'll do the rest for you."
Nettie ran with him to show him what was wanted; and Mr. Mathieson's strong arms had it all done very quickly. Nettie eagerly thanked him; and then seeing him in good-humour with her, she ventured something more.
"Mother's very tired to-day, father," she whispered; "she'll feel better by and by if she has a little rest. Do you think you would mind helping me put up this bedstead?"
"Well, here goes!" said Mr. Mathieson. "Which piece belongs here, to begin with?"
Nettie did not know much better than he; but putting not only her whole mind but also her whole heart into it, she managed to find out and direct him successfully. Her part was hard work; she had to stand holding up the heavy end of the bedstead while her father fitted in the long pieces; and then she helped him to lace the cords, which had to be drawn very tight; and precious time was running away fast, and Nettie had had no dinner. But she stood patiently, with a thought in her heart which kept her in peace all the while. When it was done, Mr. Mathieson went out; and Nettie returned to her mother. She was sitting where she had left her. Barry was gone.
"Mother, wont you have something to eat?"
"I can't eat, child. Have you had anything yourself?"
Nettie had seized a remnant of her father's toast, and was munching it hastily.
"Mother, wont you put on your gown and come to church this afternoon? Do! It will rest you. Do, mother!"
"You forget I've got to get supper, child. Your father doesn't think it necessary that anybody should rest, or go to church, or do anything except work. What he is thinking of, I am sure I don't know. There is no place to eat in but this room, and he is going to bring a stranger into it; and if I was dying I should have to get up for every meal that is wanted. I never thought I should come to live so! And I cannot dress myself, or prepare the victuals, or have a moment to myself, but I have the chance of Mr. Lumber and your father in here to look on! It is worse than a dog's life!"
It looked pretty bad, Nettie thought. She did not know what to say. She began clearing