"We will write them letters, to cheer them up, shall we? and send them all sorts of things--for fun."
Audrey came out and joined them, "Mother has told me," she said.
"Oh, Irene, I am so delighted." Her pleasure shone in her face, and her speaking eyes. Irene already knew the worst there was to know of the shabbiness of the home, and Audrey"s heart was at rest. "I think, though, you ought to come in now, and lie down, you know you are not really well yet."
"You must give me something to do then, sewing, or darning, or something.
I simply could not lie still doing nothing. I am too excited. Haven"t you some stockings that need mending? We always have a basketful at home."
"I took the basket up to mother a day or two ago," said Audrey.
"We didn"t get them done, somehow, so mother said she would try what she could do. But don"t bother about work, Irene. Lie down and read, I am going up to my room to work for a little while."
"And I must put Joan in her cot for her morning nap," said Faith, taking that little person from Irene"s arms.
Audrey strolled away to her beloved attic, Faith to her bedroom, and Irene was left alone to go to her bedroom, or the dining-room, as she pleased.
For a few seconds she lay on the sofa in the dining-room, thinking; then suddenly she got up, and went softly up the stairs to Mrs. Carlyle"s room.
"Come in," said the gentle voice, in answer to her knock. "Oh, Irene, is that you. Are you come up to sit with me? How nice?" The invalid"s face brightened perceptibly.
"I came for the stocking basket," said Irene. "I am ordered to keep still, but I simply can"t while I am so excited. I feel I want to be doing something to work it off me. Would you mind if I sat here with you for a little while, Mrs. Carlyle, and did some darning?"
"It would be the greatest pleasure to me, dear. I was longing for someone to talk to. I tried to mend some of the stockings myself, but I only managed to do one pair for Debby to put on. My eyes ached so. One seems to twist them if one tries to do fine work when lying down."
"Of course one does. Mrs. Carlyle," eagerly, "will you let the stocking basket be my charge while I am here? I love to have a big pile of work to do, and make my way through it. Would it bother you if I worked up here sometimes?"
"Not in the least, dear child. There is nothing I should enjoy more.
I often long for company, but ours is a busy household. With only one servant, it takes the girls all their time to keep the house in order."
Irene stooped low over the stocking-basket, lest her face should reveal anything.
"Of course it is too much for them," Mrs. Carlyle went on anxiously, "and we shall have to have in extra help when the holidays are over, and their new governess comes. They can"t possibly do their lessons and the housework as well. Next year I hope to be about again, and able to take some of the load off their shoulders, but," with a little sigh, "next year is a long way off."
"I wish I could help," said Irene. "I love housework, and keeping things nice. I am longing for the time when we shall have a house again.
Mrs. Carlyle, have you any dark blue darning wool that I can mend Tom"s stockings with?"
"No, dear, I have not, I have taken up that pair ever so many times and put them down again because I had no wool to mend them with."
Irene thrust her hand in, "Um!" Someone had not been so particular, she thought, as her eye fell on a brown darn on the heel, and a black one at the back of the leg.
"Irene, don"t you think you could drop the formal name, and call me "Aunt Kitty"? I wish you would, dear. I have no nieces or nephews of my own, and I have always longed to be "aunt" to someone."
"Why, of course I will, I should love to, Aunt Kitty--don"t you have a gla.s.s of milk about this time? Shall I ask for it for you?"
"Thank you--I think they must have forgotten it." She did not add that five days out of every seven the gla.s.s of milk was forgotten either entirely, or until it was so close on dinner-time that she could not take it.
"I won"t bother Mary to bring it, I will go and get it, if you don"t mind my going into the kitchen?"
Mrs. Carlyle was of the same happy, easy-going nature as Faith, and minded nothing of that sort. Even if she had known the state of muddle the kitchen was in, she would not have been troubled by Irene"s going into it.
But though the muddle was there, as usual, and worse than usual, Irene did not see it. The shock she received when she opened the kitchen door, drove everything else from her thoughts, and it was not until some time later that she had eyes for the kitchen itself.
In the middle of the floor sat Mary, propped against the table leg, while on either side of her knelt Audrey and Faith, trying to staunch the blood which flowed freely from Mary"s hand. Mary"s face was as white as chalk, her eyes nearly popping out of her head with alarm. Audrey and Faith looked almost as frightened.
When Irene appeared on the scene they turned their faces to her in evident relief. "Oh, Irene, Mary has cut her poor hand fearfully, and--and it will not stop bleeding, and we don"t know what to do, we have been here ever so long, and it isn"t stopping a bit. Do you think we ought to send for Doctor Gray?"
"I shouldn"t think so," said Irene rea.s.suringly, "not if it is an ordinary cut. Let me see it, may I?"
"Oh, no, you mustn"t look at it. You will faint!"
"I don"t faint from that kind of thing, I am used to it. We are always damaging ourselves, and I doctor them all. Anyhow, I know that Mary ought not to hold her hand down like that,"--gently raising it to check the flow--"it will bleed for hours if she does. Have you any soft rag?"
"Plenty, I should think," Audrey replied sarcastically, "but I don"t know where to find any." Irene, looking at her closely for the first time, saw that she was white to the lips, and trembling.
"Look here," she said quickly, "I came down for a gla.s.s of milk for your mother, and some biscuits, will you take them up to her? She will be waiting, and wondering what has become of me. Then you stay with her and talk to her. Don"t tell her what has happened--simply say that I am busy.
Don"t come down again, Audrey, you will be fainting if you stay here, and we can manage by ourselves. Don"t cry, Mary, it will be all right.
I am sure it will."
"I--I believe I"ve taken a bit of my finger right off," sobbed Mary.
"I am sure I have, p"raps it"s gone. Do look, miss."
"Oh no, it isn"t gone. Don"t scream so, Mary, you will frighten Mrs.
Carlyle and make her very ill. Now just be as plucky as ever you can while I dress it. Faith, where can I find some rag?"
"Oh, I don"t know," groaned Faith. "Irene, do you think a piece of her finger has really come off?"
"No!" Irene, who had been examining the wound, spoke almost impatiently.
"The cut is a deep one, but it will be all right in a few days. Do try and find some rag or bandage, Faith. I want to bind it up as tightly as possible to stop the bleeding. If you haven"t any I will get one of my handkerchiefs."
Faith, much relieved in her mind, ran off hurriedly. Mary"s sobs became quieter, but as she grew less frightened about herself, she grew more worried about her work.
"Whatever shall I do!" she wailed, "there"s the dinner to get, and I"ve got to make cake to-day! Oh, what can I do! We"ll have to have in a woman, and see what that costs!"
Poor Mary"s innocent words brought Irene"s wandering thoughts to a standstill. Mary"s concern for her master"s purse touched her, and filled her with a deep respect for the simple, loyal, country girl.
"Oh, but we need not do that, Mary," she said kindly, "you will be able to use your other hand quite well, and this one too, for some things.
Of course, you can"t make cake, but I can. I often made it at home; and I can cook the dinner too, if you will tell me what you want."
"Oh! but Miss Irene, I couldn"t let you!" Mary was so taken aback she forgot all about the cut hand, and let Irene bathe it without once wincing. "Oh, miss! I--I couldn"t. The master wouldn"t like it, and-- and----"
"The master need not know anything about it, at least, not until it is done, then I will ask him if he approves of his new cook. I expect he will say he prefers his old one! Now Mary--you are not to say anything about it. I love cooking, and I want to practise, and I think it will be the greatest fun."
Faith came dashing in with an old pillow-case in her hand. "You will have to use some of this, I am afraid. I know there is a heap of real rag somewhere, but I can"t stay to look any further. Joan has pulled over the water-jug and drenched herself to the skin. I must fly!"
Irene looked at Mary, and Mary looked at the pillowcase. "Seems a pity to tear that up," she said anxiously, "it wants a bit of mending, but it is one of the best. If you will wait a minute, miss, I think I know where I can put my hand on a piece," and Mary scrambled to her feet, forgetful of her faintness.
"Law me! "tisn"t nothing to have made such a fuss about, after all," she remarked shamefacedly, as Irene bathed the cut in clean cold water, "I thought for certain the top of my finger was lying round on the floor somewhere, and the thought of it made me feel that ill."
"Well, don"t think about it any more," laughed Irene, as she deftly tore up strips of linen, "it is too horrid. Tell me now if I am binding your finger too tightly. There! Isn"t that neat! I daresay a doctor or a nurse would laugh at it, but if it answers the purpose, that is all that really matters, isn"t it? Now I am going to make you a sling."
"But I can"t use it if it is in a sling, miss."