The Fortunes of the Farrells | Page 2

"Well, be aisy; you haven't to darn them, anyway. It's my work, which
is the best of reasons why it is left undone. Hurry with the gas, there's a
dear. There's no time for conundrums, if I am to finish to- night!"
Another sigh, the striking of a match, and the light sprang up, and
showed a tall, girlish figure, clad in a blue serge skirt, and a flannel
blouse, faded from repeated washing, and showing signs of a decided
shortage of material.
Considered as a costume, it was a painful contrast to the silver and
diamonds of the fair Berengaria; but the shabby garments looked their
best on Ruth Farrell's slight form, and the face reflected in the strip of
mirror above the mantelpiece had a distinct charm of its own. A low
brow below masses of brown hair; a flush of carmine on the cheeks;
soft lips, drooping pathetically at the corners; and--most striking feature
of all--thickly marked eyebrows of almost jetty black, stretching in
long, straight lines above the grey eyes. A pretty, almost a beautiful
face, full of character, full of thought, full of a restless, unsatisfied
yearning.
She threw the burnt-out match on to the fire, and turned to survey the

room--surely the most motley and curious apartment that could be
imagined! The sloping roof proved at a glance the position under the
leads, and a peep at the outside of the door would have shown the word
"Attica" painted in bold white letters on the top panel.
Attica--or the land of attic--constituted the boudoirs of the Ladies
Berengaria and Lucille, the work-rooms and play-rooms, dens and
havens of refuge, of Ruth and Mollie Farrell, and their young
stepsisters, Trix and Betty Connor; for it was of generous proportions,
measuring a square eight yards or more, and the floor was divided into
four equal sections by lines of white paint against the brown of the
original staining.
Each sister held an exclusive right to her own domain, and for another
to enter therein without special invitation was held as an outrage
against decency and good taste.
In the beginning of things, Ruth, as the eldest, had claimed the right of
first choice, and, being a young woman who liked her comforts, had
instantly and unhesitatingly appropriated the fireside.
Mollie, coming next in order, plumped for the window, it being her
sunny habit to look forward to an endless summer; Trix, grumbling
vigorously, appropriated the angle made by the blank walls nearest the
fire; and poor Betty made her lair in the direct draught of the doorway,
and enjoyed a permanent cold in the head from November to March.
A glance at the four corners of the room afforded a very fair idea of the
characters of its inhabitants. Ruth's "Fireland" domain had an air of
luxury of its own, though the draperies were of simple turkey-red, and
the pictures mounted on home-made frames of brown paper. There was
a row of shelves against the wall, holding quite a goodly show of
volumes, ranged neatly side by side, while a curtained recess at one end
contained tea-cups and canister, and a small metal kettle, as
scrupulously bright as on the day when it had left the shop.
An old folding-chair had been painted green, and supplied with frilled
cushions. There was a sensible little table, holding a hand-machine, and

a work-basket--yawning apart, it is true, but neatly strapped to prevent
accident; and on the mantelpiece a crowd of photographs, and a few
oddments of blue china, all carefully dusted by the owner's hand, and
set out with artistic effect.
Last, and crowning luxury of all, a screen stood behind the low chair,
manufactured out of a clothes-horse flounced with turkey-red, which
was at once the comfort and distraction of Ruth's soul; for while, from
her point of view, it was an indispensable comfort, shutting out
draughts from window and door, and giving to her little nook the last
blessing of privacy, Trix denounced the innovation as the incarnation
of selfishness, Betty's teeth chattered with a noise like castanets, and
Mollie peered round the corner with her shoulders huddled in a shawl,
and her face at once so cheerful, so unreproving, and so bleached with
cold, that it was not in human nature to refuse the desired invitation.
Mollie's domain of "Bellevue" comprised the square-shaped window,
on the sill of which she cultivated nasturtiums and mignonette in
summer, and in the embrasure stood a window-seat covered with blue
cloth, that was really the remains of an old winter skirt.
Visitors to "Bellevue" always paused to admire the sprays of flowers
which were embroidered here and there on this blue background; and
then Mollie "dissembled," as she called it, smiling sweet recognition of
the praise, but never once breathing the