CHAPTER V - "Next Monday Morning"

by Ethel Turner

　　There was a trunk standing in the hall, and a large, much-travelledportmanteau, and there were labels on them that said: "Miss HelenWoolcot, The Misses Burton, Mount Victoria."

　　In the nursery breakfast was proceeding spasmodically. Meg'sblue eyes were all red and swollen with crying, and she was stillsniffing audibly as she poured out the coffee. Pip had his handsin his pockets and stood on the hearthrug, looking gloomily at acertain plate, and refusing breakfast altogether; the General wascrashing his own mug and plate joyously together; and Buntywas eating bread and butter in stolid silence.

　　Judy, white-faced and dry-eyed, was sitting at the table, and Nelland Baby were clinging to either arm. All the three days betweenthat black Thursday and this doleful morning she had been obstinatelyuncaring. Her spirits had never seemed higher, her eyes brighter,her tongue sharper, than during that interval of days; and she hadpretended to everyone, and her father, that she especially thoughtboarding school must be great fun, and that she should enjoy itimmensely.

　　But this morning she had collapsed altogether. All the time before,her hot childish heart had been telling her that her father couldnot really be so cruel, that he did not really mean to send heraway among strangers, away from dear, muddled old Misrule and allher sisters and brothers; he was only saying it to frighten her,she kept saying to herself, and she would show him she was nota chickenhearted baby.

　　But on Sunday night, when she saw a trunk carried downstairsand filled with her things and labelled with her name, a coldhand seemed to close about her heart. Still, she said to herself,he was doing all this to make it seem more real.

　　But now it was morning, and she could disbelieve it no longer.Esther had come to her bedside and kissed her sorrowfully, herbeautiful face troubled and tender. She had begged as she hadnever done before for a remission of poor Judy's sentence, butthe Captain was adamant. It was she and she only who was alwaysringleader in everything; the others would behave when she was notthere to incite them to mischief and go she should. Besides, hesaid, it would be the making of her. It was an excellent schoolhe had chosen for her; the ladies who kept it were kind, but veryfirm, and Judy was being ruined for want of a firm hand. Which,indeed, was in a measure true.

　　Judy sat bolt upright in bed at the sight of Esther's sorrowfulface.

　　"It's no good, dear; there's no way out of it," she said gently."But you'll go like a brave girl, won't you, Ju-Ju? You alwayswere the sort to die game, as Pip says."

　　Judy gulped down a great lump in her throat, and her poor littleface grew white and drawn.

　　"It's all right, Essie. There, you go on down to breakfast,"she said, in a voice that, only shook a little; "and pleaseleave the General, Esther; I'll bring him down with me."

　　Esther deposited her little fat son on the pillow, and with oneloving backward glance went out of the door.

　　And Judy pulled the little lad down into her arms, and covered thebedclothes right over both their heads, and held him in a fierce,almost desperate clasp for a minute or two, and buried her facein his soft, dimpled neck, and kissed it till her lips ached.

　　He fought manfully against these troublesome proceedings, and atlast objected, with an angry scream, to being suffocated. So sheflung back the clothes and got out of bed, leaving him to burrowabout among the pillows, and pull feathers out of a hole in oneof them.

　　She dressed in a quick nervous fashion, did her hair with morecare than usual, and then picked up the General and took him alongthe passage into the nursery. All the others were here, and, withEsther, were evidently discussing her. The three girls lookedtearful and protesting; Pip had just been brought to book forspeaking disrespectfully of his father, and was looking sullen;and Bunty, not knowing what else to do at such a crisis, had fallento catching flies, and was viciously taking off their wings.

　　It was a wretched meal: The bell sounded for the downstairsbreakfast, and Esther had to go. Everyone offered Judy everythingon the table, and spoke gently and politely to her. She seemedto be apart from them, a person not to be lightly treated in thedignity of this great trouble. Her dress, too, was quite new—aneat blue serge fresh from the dressmaker's hands; her bootswere blacked and bright, her stockings guiltless of ventilatorychasms. All this helped to make her a Judy quite different fromthe harum-scarum one of a few days back, who used to come tobreakfast looking as if her clothes had been pitchforked upon her.

　　Baby addressed herself to her porridge for one minute, but thenext her feelings overcame her, and, with a little wail, she rushedround the table to Judy, and hung on her arm sobbing. Thisdestroyed the balance of the whole company. Nell got the other armand swayed to and fro in an excess of misery. Meg's tears raineddown into her teacup; Pip dug his heel in the hearthrug, andwondered what was the matter with his eyes; and even Bunty'sappetite for bread and butter diminished.

　　Judy sat there silent; she had pushed back her unused plate, andsat regarding it with an expression of utter despair on heryoung face. She looked like a miniature tragedy queen going toimmediate execution.

　　Presently Bunty got off his chair, covered up his coffee with hissaucer to keep the flies out, and solemnly left the room. In aminute he returned with a pickle bottle, containing an enormousgreen frog.

　　"You can have it to keep for your very own, Judy," he said, in atone of almost reckless sadness. "It'll, keep you amused, perhaps,at school." Self-sacrifice could go no further, for this frog wasthe darling of Bunty's heart.

　　This stimulated the others; everyone fetched some offering to layat Judy's shrine for a keepsake. Meg brought a bracelet, plaitedout of the hair of a defunct pet pony. Pip gave his three-bladedpocketknife. Nell a pot of musk that she had watered and cherishedfor a year, Baby had a broken-nosed doll, that was the Benjamin ofher large family.

　　"Put them in the trunk, Meg—there's room on top, I think," Judysaid in a choking voice, and deeply touched by these gifts. "Oh!and, Bunty, dear! put a cork over the f—f—frog, will you? itmight get lost, poor thing! in that b—b—big box."

　　"All right," said Bunty, "You'll take c—c—care of it, w—won'tyou, Judy? Oh dear, oh—h—h!—boo-hoo!"

　　Then Esther came in, still troubled-looking. "The dogcart isround," she said. "Are you ready, Ju, dearest? Dear little Judy!be brave, little old woman."

　　But Judy was white as death, and utterly limp. She sufferedEsther to put her hat on, to help her into her new jacket, to puther gloves into her hand. She submitted to being kissed by thewhole family, to be half carried downstairs by Esther, to bekissed again by the girls, then by the two good-natured domestics,who, in spite of her peccadilloes, had a warm place in their heartsfor her.

　　Esther and Pip lifted her into the dogcart; and she sat in alittle, huddled-up way, looking down at the group on the verandawith eyes that were absolutely tragic in their utter despair. Herfather came out, buttoning his overcoat, and saw the look.

　　"What foolishness is this?" he said irascibly—"Esther-greatheavens! are you making a goose of yourself, too?"—there weregreat tears glistening in his wife's beautiful eyes. "Upon mysoul, one would think I was going to take the child to be hanged,or at least was going to leave her in a penitentiary."

　　A great dry sob broke from Judy's white lips.

　　"If you'll let me stay, Father, I'll never do another thing to vexyou; and you can thrash me instead, ever so hard."

　　It was her last effort, her final hope, and she bit her poorquivering lip till it bled while she waited for his answer.

　　"Let her stay—oh! do letter stay, we'll be good always," camein a chorus from the veranda. And, "Let her stay, John, PLEASE!"Esther called in a tone as entreating as any of the children.

　　But the Captain sprang into the dogcart and seized the reins fromPat in a burst of anger.

　　"I think you're all demented!" he cried. "She's going to athoroughly good home, I've paid a quarter in advance already,and I can assure you good people I'm not going to waste it."

　　He gave the horse a smart touch with the whip, and in a minutethe dogcart had flashed out of the gate, and the small, unhappyface was lost to sight.