V
When the splendid great door was opened by a tall and handsome footman Matilda clung to Pembroke as if he were her only friend in the world, as, indeed, he really seemed to be at that moment in that house. She had never seen anything so grand before; and after all, it is rather striking for a little girl of nine who has all her life been managing a large family in two small rooms in Clerkenwell, to be brought suddenly into a mansion in Berkeley Square to speak to a gentleman with a title. Not that a gentleman with a title is necessarily any more dreadful than a policeman; but Matilda knew several policemen quite intimately, and was, therefore, no longer afraid of them, although she still found their terribleness useful when her little brothers and sisters were naughty. “I’ll fetch a policeman to you!” she used to say, and sometimes actually would go downstairs a little way to do so and come back stamping her feet; and this always had the effect of making them good again.
Sir Franklin was sitting in the library with a tea-table by his side set for two, and directly Matilda had dared to shake his hand he told Pembroke to bring the tea.
Matilda could not take her eyes from the shelves of books which ran all round the room. She did not quite know whether it might not be a book-shop and Sir Franklin a grand kind of bookseller; and then she looked at the walls and wondered if it was a picture-shop; and she made a note in her mind to ask Mr. Pembroke.
Her thoughts were brought back by Pembroke bringing in a silver tea-pot and silver kettle, which he placed over a spirit lamp; and then Sir Franklin asked her if she took sugar.
(If she took sugar? What a question!)
She said, “Yes, please, sir,” very nicely, and Sir Franklin handed her the basin.
Would she have bread and butter or cake? he asked next.
(Or cake? What a question again!)
She said she would like cake, and she watched very carefully to see how Sir Franklin ate his, and at first did the same; but when after two very small bites he laid it down and did not pick it up again, Matilda very sensibly ceased to copy him.
When they had finished tea and had talked about various things that did not matter, Sir Franklin asked her suddenly, “How would you like to keep shop, Matilda?”
Matilda gasped. “What sort of a shop?” she asked at last.
“A toy-shop,” said Sir Franklin.
“Oh, but I couldn’t,” she said.
“Only for one day,” Sir Franklin added.
“One day!” Her eager eyes glistened. “But what about Tommy and Willy and the twins?”
“Your mother would stay at home that day and look after them. That could easily be arranged.
“You see,” Sir Franklin went on, “I want to give all the children in your street and in several other streets near it a Christmas present, and it is thought that the best way is to open a toy-shop for the purpose. But it is necessary that the toy-shop keeper should know most of the children and should be a capable woman of business, and that is why I ask you. The salary will be a sovereign; the hours will be from two to eight, with an interval for tea; and you shall have Mr. Pembroke to help you.”
Matilda did not know how to keep still, and yet there was the least shade of disappointment, or at least perplexity, on her face.
“Is it all right?” Sir Franklin asked.
“Ye-e-s,” said Matilda.
“Nothing you want to say?”
“No-o-o,” said Matilda; “I don’t think so.”
And yet it was very clear that something troubled her a little.
Sir Franklin was so puzzled by it that he went out to consult Pembroke. Pembroke explained the matter in a moment.
“I ought to have said,” Sir Franklin remarked at once on returning, “that the shopkeeper, although a capable business woman, may play at being a little girl, too, if she likes, and will find a doll and a work-basket for herself, and even sweets too, just like the others.”
Matilda’s face at once became nothing but smiles.
“You will want a foreman,” Sir Franklin then said.
“Yes,” said Matilda, who would have said yes to anything by this time.
“Well, who will you have?”
“I don’t think Tommy would do,” said Matilda. “He’s that thoughtless. And Willy’s too small.”
“How about Frederick?” said Sir Franklin, ringing the bell twice.
Matilda sat still and waited, wondering who Frederick was.
After a moment or two the door opened, and a very smart boy, all over buttons, came in. “You can take away the tea-things,” said Sir Franklin.
“That was Frederick,” said Sir Franklin, when the boy had gone.
“Oh!” said Matilda.
“Would he do for foreman?” Sir Franklin asked.
Matilda hesitated. She would have preferred some one she knew, but she did not like to say so.
“Too buttony?” suggested Sir Franklin.
Matilda agreed.
“Then,” said Sir Franklin, “is there anyone you know?”
“I think Artie Gillam——” said Matilda.
“Very well, then,” said Sir Franklin, “it shall be Artie Gillam. His wages will be ten shillings.”
And thus everything was settled, and Matilda was sent home with Frederick the page boy, the happiest and most responsible Little Mother in London, with an armful of good things for the family.