“They’ve never been taught nothing of such things,” said Mrs Greenways; “and besides, Agnetta’s got her schooling yet awhile.”
“Fancy me,” said Bella with a giggle, “making the butter with my sleeves tucked up like Molly. I hope I’m above that sort of thing. I didn’t go to Lenham finishing school to learn that.”
“I can’t find out what it was you did learn there,” growled her father, “except to look down on everything useful. I’ll not have Agnetta sent there, I know. Not if I had the money, I wouldn’t. It’s bad enough to have bad seasons and poor crops to do with out-of-doors, without having a set of dressed-up lazy hussies in the house, who mar more than they make. Where to turn for money I don’t know, and there’s going on for three years’ rent owing to Mr Leigh.”
He got up as he spoke and left the room, followed by Peter. Bella continued her tea placidly. Father was always cross on market days, and it did not impress her in the least to be called lazy; she was far more interested in the fate of her velveteen dress than in the quality of the butter. But this was not the case with Mrs Greenways. To hear that Benson had threatened not to take the butter was a real as well as a new trouble, and alarmed her greatly. The rent owing and the failing crops were such a very old story that she had ceased to heed it much, but what would happen if the butter was not sold? The dairy was one of their largest sources of profit, and, as the farmer had said, the pasture was good and the cows were good. There was no fault out-of-doors. Whose fault was it? Molly’s without doubt. “But then,” reflected Mrs Greenways, “she have got a sight to do, and you can’t hurry butter; you must have care and time.” She sighed as she glanced at Bella’s strong capable form. Perhaps it would have been better after all, as Mrs White had so often said, to bring up her girls to understand household matters, instead of being stylishly idle. “I did it for their good,” thought poor Mrs Greenways; “and anyhow, it’s too late to alter ’em now. They’d no more take to it than ducks to flying.” She was startled out of these reflections by the sudden entrance of Agnetta, who burst into the room with a hot excited face, and flung her bag of books into a corner.
“Well,” said Bella, looking calmly at her, “I s’pose you’re to be Queen, ain’t you?”
“No!” exclaimed Agnetta angrily, “I ain’t Queen; and it’s a shame, so it is.”
“Why, whoever is it, then?” asked Bella, open-mouthed.
“They’ve been and chosen Lilac White; sneaking little thing!” said Agnetta.
“Well, now, surely, I am surprised,” said her mother. “I made sure they’d choose you, Agnetta; being the oldest, and the best lookin’, and all. I do call it hard.”
“It’s too bad,” continued Agnetta, thus encouraged; “after I’ve been such a friend to her, and helped her cut her hair. It’s ungrateful. She might have told me.”