The Little School-Mothers

Book Two – Chapter Two

Robina at Home

The next day, the different girls went to their several homes. Robina had to make a longer journey than the others; but she arrived at length at the somewhat solitary house on the borders of Wales where she lived with her father and mother, and two little sisters.

Robina’s mother was one of those rather trying invalids who without ever being in any danger yet manage to make all those around them uncomfortable. Now, Robina loved her mother, but she never managed to be an hour in her presence without rubbing the poor invalid the wrong way. Mrs Starling said that this big, firm, almost manly sort of child was too much for her. She did not mind the two little girls sitting in her shaded room and playing quietly with their toys. Now and then, she even permitted them to climb up on her sofa and pat her pale cheeks, and kiss her hands. But Robina was too lively and too full of vitality for this sort of existence; and, as Mrs Starling was fond of remarking, she tired her out without meaning to do so.

Now poor little Robina loved her mother passionately, and it was one of her secret troubles that she could not manage to make that mother happy. Mrs Starling had been an invalid for so long that her sister, Miss Felicia Jennings, had charge of the house; and Miss Felicia was also the sort of person who had the power of rubbing Robina the wrong way.

She was a very fussy woman who was so fond of saying ‘Don’t’ that Robina wondered if she had any other word in her vocabulary.

“Now, Robina,” she said on the present occasion, the moment the little girl entered the house – “don’t make so much noise: walk quietly; go up to your room, and don’t slam the door; also —don’t neglect to put your boots outside on the mat, so that Fanny may take them down in good time to get them cleaned. And, Robina —don’t forget to wash your hands and brush your hair, and don’t on any account fail to remember that your mother has a bad headache and cannot have noise or excitement in her room.”

“I am not going to make any noise; and I will try not to be excited,” said Robina. “I have been very happy at school, Aunt Felice, and people haven’t said such a lot of ‘don’ts’ to me. I think it is ‘don’t’ makes me so naughty when I am at home.”

“Well —don’t oblige me to say ‘Don’t,’” was Aunt Felicia’s remark.

Robina ran upstairs. She was never cross at school. Why did she feel irritation the very moment she got home? She had looked forward very much to her holidays. She had all sorts of schemes in her practical little brain for improving and rendering life agreeable to little Violet and little Rose, her two small sisters.

She had quite expected that Violet and Rose would be waiting to welcome her. She had pictured them to herself all during the long, hot journey to Wales.

Violet was five years old, and a very pretty little girl. Curly Pate had always more or less reminded Robina of Violet. And then there was Rose, who was not yet four years old, and who was a very delicate little child and rather fractious. Rose in some sort of intangible manner recalled Harriet to Robina’s memory; for she was lanky, and thin, and had poor little weak legs, and a weak sort of crying voice, and people said that she took after her mother, and would never be specially good for anything.

Before she went to school, Robina had much preferred to play with Violet, and had often left Rose more or less out in the cold. But now she resolved to correct all this, and to try to get to understand little Rose, and to add to the happiness of her life.

“For if I don’t,” thought Robina, “she may grow up like Harriet: she may even learn to be deceitful, and that would never do. Oh, I know – I know quite well the person who is better than all the rest of us put together at the school, and that person is Ralph. Who else would have changed Harriet, and made her so that she could even bear to allow me to be Ralph’s school-mother, and yet to love little Ralph all the time? I must own that I do not love Harriet even now; but I suppose it is wrong of me; anyhow, I see that there are possibilities of good in her; and I will be very good to little Rose during the fortnight that I am at home because of Harriet.”

But Violet and Rose were both in bed, although they had pleaded very hard indeed to be let stay up, and Mrs Starling was not considered well enough to be disturbed by Robina that evening. Robina’s father was not at home, and there was no one, therefore, to welcome the little girl except Aunt Felicia.

“It is dull,” thought Robina. “I am glad that I am going to Sunshine Lodge in a fortnight: I wonder if the invitation has come yet. How jolly we shall all be when we are there! If mother were really glad to see me, and if Rose and Violet were up, I should be a very happy girl this evening; but as it is – ”

Robina entered her rather bare and decidedly ugly bedroom, tossed her hat on the bed, went to the small cracked looking-glass in order to see how to put her thick hair straight, and then was preparing to run downstairs again, when she saw the nursery room door very softly opened, and a little figure peeped out.

“I am in my nighty, and so is Rose; but we’re both ’ide awake,” said Violet’s voice. “Oo’s come back, Wobbin. Come and kiss us; do, do!”

“Oh, you darlings! you pets!” said Robina.

She went noisily into the nursery, and alack! and alas! the next minute the door slammed after her. Violet’s little rosy face turned pale, and the real Rose began to cry.

“Aunt Felice will come up and scold!” said Violet. “Oh, put us into bed, do! and don’t go away – please, please, Wobina!”

“No, I won’t,” said Robina. “I don’t mind a bit whether I’m scolded or not. Of course, I didn’t mean to slam the door. You little darlings, both of you! You sweet pets! Here I am back again, and won’t we have good times! I have some chocolates for you in a corner of my school trunk: I bought it out of the savings of my pocket-money; and it is right good, I can tell you.”

“All keemy in middle?” enquired Rose, in a voice of great eagerness.

“Yes,” said Robina, “and browny outside.”

“Can’t us have some now?” asked Violet.

“I will try,” said Robina. “You lie quite still, and pretend to be asleep, and I’ll bring you some in a minute or two. Aunt Felice couldn’t have heard the door slam, or she would be up here on the landing by now. Oh dear! oh dear! I’ll creep out ever so quietly. Now, mum’s the word. Stay as still as mice, you two, until I return.”

Two eager pairs of eyes in the midst of two small wide awake faces followed Robina as she went to the nursery door. She opened it softly, and shut it behind her. In a minute or two, she was back with the chocolates, and each little child was made intensely happy. Robina promised all sorts of good things on the morrow – pick-a-back was one; and oh! there was a wonderful secret: something amazing was going to happen: for of course Robina knew well that the pony with the side-saddle and the habit would arrive early the next day. He could not be objected to, for part of the prize was that all his expenses were to be paid.

There was an old stable at the back of the house where he could lodge, and the services of a special man were to be secured to look after him. The thought of the pony comforted Robina immensely on that first evening at home. When she sat opposite to Aunt Felicia at supper, it occurred to her to mention it.

“Aunt Felice,” she said, “I have got a great piece of news for you.”

“What is that, my dear Robina? Don’t put your elbow on the table; it is so unladylike; and I wish, my dear, you would not have that habit of opening your mouth when you are not speaking. You ought to say the old phrase, ‘Papa, potatoes, prunes and prism’ constantly to yourself. There is nothing for keeping the mouth in a nice shape like uttering the word ‘prism.’”

“I can’t, really, Aunt Felice. I am not made that way,” said Robina. “I can’t be worried about my mouth.”

“There you are,” said Aunt Felice, “always so headstrong, rough, and disagreeable. Now, don’t frown! It really makes you look like a fright. Your poor mother quite dreads the thought of having you in the house; you are so undisciplined and wayward.”

“I was thought quite a good girl at school,” said Robina.

“Then that was because none of them really knew you.”

“I think they knew me very well. You have to be your real self at school, Aunt Felice.”

“Then may I ask, miss, if that is the case, why you are not your real self at home?”

“I am afraid I have got two selves, and I am my worst self at home, because I am rubbed the wrong way.”

“Indeed!” said Miss Jennings. “That is nice hearing. And who rubs you the wrong way?”

“I know you will be very angry with me, Aunt Felicia; but you do.”

“Robina: this is really more than I can stand. You don’t speak in that impertinent way to me any more: you have no respect for those older and better than yourself, Robina. I don’t say for a moment that you have not your good points. You are a clever, strong, intelligent child, but you are too independent: that is what is the matter with you.”

Robina fidgetted.

“Don’t push your things about on your plate like that!” said Miss Felicia: “and oh! don’t kick me with your long legs under the table! You really are most objectionable in your manners – such a rough sort of girl.”

“Come, Auntie,” said Robina suddenly, “I have been thinking a lot of my return home. I have never been to school before, and these are my very first holidays, and anyhow, there is jolly good news – ”

“Don’t say jolly! It is a most unladylike expression.”

“Oh, I must talk a little slang. I can’t be too proper. Besides, ‘jolly’ is accepted now as the most correct English. ‘Awfully jolly’ is a lovely phrase.”

“It is a misnomer, and abominable. Don’t ever say ‘awfully jolly’ in my presence.”

“I will try not to,” said Robina aloud. To herself, she whispered: “I won’t be tempted: things never are awfully jolly when she is about.”

“May I tell you the nice thing that has happened?” she said, after a pause.

“Don’t spill that jam, Robina. See, you are dropping the juice on the table-cloth. Now then, what is your news? I don’t suppose it is worth anything.”

“To begin with: I am going away on a visit in a fortnight.”

“Indeed?” said Miss Jennings. “That is so likely: little girls do go away on visits without the permission of their elders. That is the modern tendency, I am well aware, but it has not taken root in this house so far.”

“Mr Durrant has invited me,” said Robina, “and I know father and mother will let me go: I am not a bit afraid on that point. Mr Durrant will manage it.”

“Who is Mr Durrant?”

“He is the Durrant, you know: everyone speaks of him. He is one of the greatest men in England at the present day.”

Miss Jennings stared hard at her niece.

“Up to the present,” she said, “I always did think you were truthful: but I cannot quite believe that the great African explorer, whose thrilling book I could scarcely lay down when once I began to read it, would take any notice of an inconsequent, silly little girl like yourself.”

“Oh, but he has,” said Robina, in a careless tone. “He is very fond of me. I am his little boy’s mother, you know.”

“Robina: don’t open your lips for the remainder of this meal. Lies I will not stand.”

Robina whispered ‘prism’ under her breath, and sat mute with her hands folded. After a time, Miss Jennings asked if she wished for anything more. She shook her head.

“Are you satisfied? Are you no longer hungry?” Robina nodded.

“Then leave the room.”

Robina did so. The next minute she was out of the house, and had rushed round to the stables.

“Jim!” she said to the man who had charge of the old grey horse and the very humble chaise which was the only conveyance known at Heather House – the name of Robina’s home. “Jim: there is a very beautiful pony coming here to-morrow; or he may not arrive till the next day. He is mine; and I want him to have a stable all to himself, and I want to hire a proper groom to see after him. Do you know any nice boy in the village who can be trained to look after my pony?”

Jim, who had always a secret admiration for Miss Robina as a fine, manly sort of young lady who could ride old Dobbin bareback from the time she could walk, and whom he had secretly provided with many a less safe seat on neighbours’ horses, now answered with alacrity:

“You don’t mean, miss, as Mr Starling has gone and bought you a pony of your own?”

“No, Jim; nothing of the sort. It is such a comfort to confide in you, Jim: I won the pony as a prize at school.”

“Lawk-a-mercy!” said Jim: “what queer prizes they do have at that school, now!”

“Shall I tell you how I won it? I was good to a child.”

“Lor! miss.”

“A dear little boy. I am his school-mother. He chose me – or rather, he didn’t choose me first, but I became his school-mother afterwards; and the prize was a pony and a side-saddle. You will have me skimming all over the country now when I am at home, Jim. I’ll be worse to manage than ever.”

“But miss, there is the master. How do you know as he’ll let you keep a pony?”

“Oh, that is all right,” said Robina. “The gentleman who has given him is going to pay all his expenses. He is quite a rich gentleman, and he doesn’t mind what he spends. So I want a very nice groom indeed.”

“I wish I could do for him, miss,” said Jim. “I would with a heart and a half, but the master wouldn’t spare a minute of my time; and even if he would. Miss Jennings wouldn’t hear of it. She is very particular, miss, and works a man real hard.”

“Robina, come in this minute!” called a shrill voice at that moment, “and don’t stand talking with Jim. Jim; how dare you idle your time! Have you cleaned out the hen’s roost? and have you put down fresh straw for the laying hen? and what about the ducks, Jim? and don’t forget that you are to go to the village early in the morning to get some fresh corn for the young turkeys. Robina, come here this minute: don’t dawdle: come quickly.”

“I was talking to Jim,” said Robina, “about my pony.”

“Your what?” asked Miss Felicia.

“My pony: you would not let me tell you at supper time: you snapped me up so short. I have got such a lovely pony as a prize!”

“You dare to tell me such things!”

“But, Aunt Felicia, it is true. I have got a pony. I haven’t seen him yet, but I know he is going to be a perfect darling, and there’s a side-saddle coming too, and a habit made from my own measurements. My measurements were taken before I left school, so the habit will fit me perfectly, and will allow room for growing.”

“The pony may come,” said Miss Felicia: “but if it comes, it goes. Do you suppose for a single moment – you silly, selfish, thoughtless child – that your poor father, who has such expenses owing to your dear mother’s sad condition of health, can afford to keep a pony for you? If anyone is fool enough to send the animal here it goes back again.”

“I am certain father won’t send it away,” said Robina, “for it will cost no one anything. Mr Durrant —the Durrant – for I have told no lies, Aunt Felicia – is going to provide for all the expenses of my pony. He spoke to me about it; and there is to be a groom engaged to look after my darling; and when I go away in a fortnight’s time to Sunshine Lodge, my pony comes with me, and father will never be one penny out of pocket as far as my pony is concerned.”

“Dear, dear! Tut, tut!” said Miss Felicia. “Go into the house, Robina. You are either telling the most shocking lies, or something too marvellous has happened. I am inclined to believe in your want of truth, Robina, and if this is proved to be the case, your punishment will be exceedingly heavy.”

Book Two – Chapter Three

A Surprise

Late that night, Mr Starling returned home. He was a heavily built, rather dull looking man. He was a gentleman living on his private means, and as these means were small, and he was far too lazy to add to them, the young Starlings had to do without the good things of life.

His house was decidedly ramshackle; his grounds neglected; his stables in shocking disorder, and his one groom and factotum, Jim, sadly overworked.

Nevertheless, Edward Starling managed on the whole to enjoy life. He was fond of golf, and spent nearly all his time over this fascinating and absorbing amusement. Had Robina been willing to take up golf, he would scarcely have induced himself to send her to school; but as it was, he did so for the sake of peace of mind.

Robina was troublesome at home. She was too large and strong and determined for the invalid mother, and she was always rubbing the excellent, indefatigable aunt the wrong way. Mr Starling was, however, fond of Robina. He liked her bold, free, frank manners. He enjoyed her little tiffs with Aunt Felicia, and rather encouraged them than otherwise, and the very first thing he asked now when he entered the house was if his daughter had returned.