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Read Ebook: Magdalena Rudenschöld: Historiallinen kertomus Kustaa III:n ja herttua-hallitsijan ajoilta by Pfeiffer Sara Brummer F F Frans Ferdinand Translator

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Ebook has 2763 lines and 99809 words, and 56 pages

Editor: Charles Peters

THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER

NOVEMBER 6, 1886.

PRICE ONE PENNY.

MERLE'S CRUSADE.

MRS. GARNETT'S ROCKERS.

I had plenty of time for such introspective thoughts as these during my brief railway journey, and before my luggage and I were safely deposited at 35, Queen's Gate.

Again I rang the bell, and again the footman in plush and powder answered the door, but this time there was no hesitation in his manner.

"Miss Fenton, I believe," he said, quite civilly. "If you step into the waiting-room a moment I will find someone to show you the way to the nursery," and in two or three minutes a tall, respectable young woman came to me, and asked me, very pleasantly, to follow her upstairs.

On the way she mentioned two or three things; her mistress was out in the carriage, and Miss Joyce was with her. The nurse had left the previous night, and Master Reginald had been so fretful that the housekeeper had been obliged to sleep with him, as Hannah had been no manner of use--"girls never were," with a toss of her head, which showed me the rosy-cheeked Hannah was somewhat in disfavour. Mrs. Garnett was with him now, and had had a "great deal of trouble in lulling him off to sleep, the pretty dear."

We had reached the children's corridor by this time, and I heard the full, cosy tones of Mrs. Garnett's voice in "Hush a bye, baby," and the sound of rockers on the floor. The sound made me indignant that my baby should be soothed with that wooden tapping. No wonder so many children suffered from irritability of the brain; for I was as full of theories as a sucking politician.

"Ook, gurgle-da," exclaimed baby, and pointed a fat finger at me over Mrs. Garnett's shoulder. Of course he was not asleep; it would have been an insult to his infantine wisdom to suppose it.

"Oh, Master Baby," exclaimed Hannah, reproachfully. "I did think he had gone off then, Mrs. Garnett; and you have been rocking him for the best part of an hour."

"Ah, he misses his old nurse," returned Mrs. Garnett, placidly. She was a pretty-looking woman, with flaxen hair, just becoming streaked with grey. Perhaps she was a widow, for she wore a black gown, and a cap with soft floating ends, and had a plaintive look in her eyes. "I hope he will take to you, my dear, for he nearly fretted his little heart out last night, bless him; and Mrs. Morton crept up at two o'clock in the morning, when Mr. Morton was asleep, but nothing would do but his old nurse; he pushed her away, and it was 'Nur, nur,' and we could not pacify him. Poor Mrs. Morton cried at last, and then he took to patting her and laughing at her in the drollest way."

"I will just take off my bonnet and try and make friends with him," I returned, and Hannah, who really seemed a good-natured creature, ushered me into the night nursery--a large, cheerful room, with a bright fire, and a comfortable-looking bed, with a brass crib on each side--and pointed out to me the large chest of drawers and hanging wardrobe for my own special use, and then went down on her knees to unstrap my box.

"Thank you, Hannah, I will not wait to unpack now, as I daresay Mrs. Garnett is wanted downstairs," and as soon as she had left the room I opened the box and took out the pretty cap and apron, and proceeded to invest myself in my nurse's livery. I hope Aunt Agatha had not made me vain by that injudicious praise, but I certainly thought they looked very nice, and gave me a sense of importance.

The tall housemaid--Rhoda they called her--stared at me as I re-entered, but Mrs Garnett gave me an approving glance; but it was baby who afforded me most satisfaction, for he screwed up his little rosebud of a mouth in the prettiest fashion and said, "Nur, nur," at the same time holding out his arms for me to take him. I must confess I forgot Aunt Agatha in that moment of triumph.

"He takes to you quite nicely, my dear," observed Mrs. Garnett, in her cosy voice, as the little fellow nestled down contentedly in my arms.

"Yes, you may leave him to me I think now," I returned, quietly, for I felt that I should be glad to be left to myself a little. I was very thankful when my hint was taken, and Mrs. Garnett and Rhoda went downstairs and Hannah disappeared into the next room. My charge was becoming decidedly drowsy, and after a few turns up and down the room, I could sit down in the low chair by the fire and hear the soft, regular breathing against my shoulder, while my eyes travelled round the walls of my new home.

Such a pleasant room it was, large and bright, and sunny, and furnished so tastefully. The canaries were singing blithely; the Persian kitten was rolled up into a furry ball on the rug; a small Skye terrier, who I afterwards discovered went by the name of Snap, was keeping guard over me from a nest of cushions on the big couch opposite. Now and then he growled to himself softly, as though remonstrating against my intrusion, but whenever I spoke to him gently, he sat up and begged, so I imagined his animosity was not very bitter.

"My lines have fallen to me in pleasant places." I wonder why those words came to my mind. I wished Aunt Agatha could see me now, sitting in this lovely room, with this little cherub on my lap; she would not be so despondent about the future. "I do believe it will answer; I mean to make it answer," I said to myself, energetically. Indeed, I was so absorbed in my reverie, that Mrs. Morton's soft footsteps on the thick carpet never roused me until I looked up and saw her standing beside me, smiling, with Joyce beside her.

I coloured with embarrassment, and would have risen, but she put her hand on my shoulder, still smiling, to prevent me. She looked lovelier than ever in her rich furs, and there was a happier look on her face than I had seen before, as she stooped down and kissed her boy.

"He is sleeping so nicely, the darling. Mrs. Garnett tells me he has taken to you wonderfully, and I hope my little girl will follow his example; it is such a relief to me, for he nearly broke our hearts last night with fretting after nurse. He looks a little pale, do you not think so?" And then she stopped and looked in my face, with a puzzled smile. "What am I to call you? I never thought of that; shall it be Miss Fenton? but there are the children, they could not manage such a difficult name."

The difficulty had never occurred to me, and for the moment I hesitated, but only for a moment.

"The children will always call me nurse, and I suppose your household will do the same, Mrs. Morton. I think for yourself, you will find Merle the handiest name; it is short."

"It is very pretty and uncommon," she returned, musingly, "and it has this one advantage, it hardly sounds like a Christian name; if you are sure you do not object, perhaps I will use it, but," speaking a little nervously, "you need not have worn this," pointing to my cap. "You remember I said so to your aunt."

"I think it better to do so," I returned, in a decided voice; in fact, I am afraid my voice was just a little too decided in speaking to my mistress, but I was determined not to give way on this point. "I wish to wear the badge of service, that I may never forget for one moment what I owe to my employers, and--" here the proud colour suffused my face--"no cap can make me forget what is due to myself."

I could see Mrs. Morton was amused, and yet she was touched too. She told me afterwards that she thought me that moment the most original young woman she had ever seen.

"You shall do as you like," she returned; but there was a little fun in her eyes. "It certainly looks very nice, and I should be sorry if you took it off. I only spoke for your aunt's sake and your own; for myself I certainly prefer it."

"So do I," was my independent answer; "and now, if you please, I think I will lay baby in his cot, as he will sleep more soundly there, and then it will be time to get Joyce ready for her dinner," for, in spite of my cap, I had already forgotten to say "Miss Joyce," or to call my mistress "ma'am," though I have reason to know that Mrs. Morton was not at all displeased with the omission.

"It might have been a princess in disguise waiting on my children, Merle," she said to me, many months afterwards. But I knew nothing of the secret amusement with which my mistress watched me as she stood by the nursery fire in her furs, warming herself; I only knew that I loved to see her there, for from the first moment my heart had gone out to her. She was so beautiful and gentle; but it was not only that.

Baby woke just as I was putting him in his cot, and I had some little trouble in lulling him to sleep again. Hannah was dressing Joyce, and as soon as she had finished, I tried to make friends with the child. She was very shy at first, but I called Snap, and made a great fuss over him. I was just beginning to make way, when the gong summoned Mrs. Morton to luncheon, and soon after that the nursery dinner was served. Hannah waited upon us very nicely, and then took her place at the table. She was a thoroughly respectable girl, and her presence was not in the least irksome to me. I always thought it was a grand old feudal custom when all the retainers dined at the baron's table, taking their place below the salt. Surely there can be nothing derogatory to human dignity in that, seeing that we shall one day eat bread together in the kingdom of Heaven.

I wonder if half the governesses fared so luxuriously as I that day; certainly the chicken and bread sauce was delicious. As soon as we had finished, baby woke up, and I fed him, and then Joyce and he and I had a fine game of romps together, in which Snap, and the kitten, and all Joyce's dolls joined.

I had dressed the kitten up in doll's clothes, and the fun was at its height, when the door opened, and Mr. Morton came in. I discovered afterwards that it was his custom to make a brief visit to the nursery once in the four and twenty hours, sometimes with his wife, but oftener alone.

Joyce ran to him at once; she was devoted to her parents, especially to her mother, but the boy refused to leave me, unless his father would take the kitten too.

"I suppose I must humour you, my fine fellow," observed Mr. Morton, pleasantly, as he kissed the little fellow with affection, and then he turned to me.

"I hope you find yourself comfortable, nurse, and that my children are good to you."

"They could not be better, sir, and I am quite comfortable, thank you," I returned, with unusual meekness. I was not a very meek person generally, as Uncle Keith could testify, but there was a subduing influence in Mr. Morton's look and voice. I must own I was rather afraid of him, and I would not have omitted the "sir" for worlds, neither would I have seated myself without his bidding; but he took it all quite naturally.

"As my wife and I are dining out, Joyce will not come down in the drawing-room as usual," he observed, in his business-like manner. "Do you hear, my little girl? Mother and I are engaged this evening, and you must stay upstairs with Reggie."

"Werry tiresome," I heard Joyce say under her breath, and then she looked up pleadingly into her father's face. "Her is coming by-and-by, fardie?"

"Oh, no doubt," stroking the dark hair; "but mother is driving at present. Now, say good-bye to me, Joyce, and you must give me a kiss, too, my boy. Good-evening, nurse." And that was all we saw of Joyce's father that day; only an hour later, when the nursery tea was over, and I was undressing the boy by the bedroom fire, while Joyce stood beside me, removing the garments carefully from a favourite doll, and chattering as fast as a purling brook, I saw Mrs. Morton standing in the doorway, looking at us.

Joyce uttered a scream of delight, and threw herself upon her. "Mine mother! mine mother!" she repeated over and over again.

Mrs. Morton had the old, tired look on her face as she came forward, rather hurriedly. "I cannot stay; there are people downstairs, and when they have gone I must dress for dinner." She gave a sort of harassed sigh as she spoke.

"Could you not rest a little first?" I returned. "You have been out the greater part of the day, and you do not seem fit for the evening's fatigue," for there was quite a drawn look about the lovely mouth.

She shook her head, but, nevertheless, yielded when I gave her up my chair and put the boy in her arms; in his little chemise, and with his dimpled shoulders and bare legs, he was perfectly irresistible to his mother, and I was not surprised to see her cover him with kisses. "My bonnie boy, my precious little son," I could hear her whisper, in a sort of ecstasy, as I picked up the little garments from the floor and folded them. I seemed to know by instinct that it was only this that she needed to rest her; the drawn, weary lines seemed to vanish like magic. What a sweet picture it was! But her pleasure, poor soul, was short lived; the next moment she had recollected herself.

"There are all those people in the drawing-room! What would my husband say at my neglecting them? Good-night, my darling; be good; and good-night, Merle." She smiled at me in quite a friendly fashion, and hurried away without another look.

"I always do say master does make a slave of mistress," grumbled Hannah, as she filled the bath; "she never has a moment to herself that I can see. What is the use of having children if one never sees them." And though I refrained from any comment, I quite endorsed Hannah's opinion. As soon as Hannah had cleared the room, I shaded the light and began quietly arranging my clothes in the wardrobe, and then I sat down in the low chair beside the fire. Through the open door I could see Hannah's bent head as she sat at her sewing. The nursery looked warm and cosy--a very haven of comfort; but I wanted to be alone for a time to think over the occurrences of the day. "To commune with one's own heart and to be still." How good it is to do that sometimes. For a few moments my thoughts lingered lovingly in the little cottage at Putney. Aunt Agatha and Uncle Keith would be talking of me, I knew that. I could almost hear the pitying tones of Aunt Agatha's voice, "Poor child! How lonely she will feel without us to-night!" Did I feel lonely? I hardly think so; on the contrary, I had the warm, satisfied conviction at my heart that I was in my right place, the place for which I was most fitted. How tenderly would I watch over these helpless little creatures committed to my care! how sacred would be my charge! What a privilege to be allowed to love them, to be able to win their affection in return!

I had such a craving in my heart to be loved, and hitherto I had had no one but Aunt Agatha. It seemed to me, somehow, as though I must cry aloud to my human brothers and sisters to let me love them and take interest in their lives; to suffer me to glean beside them, like loving Ruth in those Eastern harvest fields, following the reapers lest haply a handful might fall to my share, for who would wish to go home at eventide empty handed as well as weary?

GIRLS' FRIENDSHIPS

HOW THEY ARE MADE.

Perhaps the first, easiest, and on the whole, least durable of girls' friendships is formed at school. Not such a school as we go to at twelve, where we have class competitions, good-conduct marks, and fines for talking, but such a school as we go to at sixteen, to "finish," when individual emancipated life is so near that we begin to realise it, and dimly feel that the friends we now make may form part of it.

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