‘Too excellent, that’s the very thing,’ muttered Aunt Jane. ‘Well, Mysie’s fate is settled, and I dare say it will turn out for the best.’
So Mysie was to go with Mrs. Halfpenny and Primrose to Beechcroft, whence the Rotherwoods would fetch her. If the lady’s letter had been much less urgent, who could have withstood her lord’s postscript: ‘If you could see the little pale face light up at the bare notion of seeing Mysie, you would know how grateful we shall be for her.’
Mysie herself heard her destiny without much elation, though she was very fond of Lady Phyllis, and the tears came into her eyes at the thought of her being unwell and wanting her.
‘Mamma said we must not grumble,’ she said to Gillian; ‘but I shall feel so lost without you and Val. It is so unhomish, and there’s that dreadful German Fraulein, who was not at home last time.’
‘If you told mamma, perhaps she would let you stay,’ returned Gillian. ‘I know I should hate it, worse than I do going to Rockstone and without you.’
‘That would be unkind to poor Fly,’ said Mysie. ‘Besides, mamma said she could not have settling and unsettling for ever. And I shall see Primrose sometimes; besides, I do love Fly. It’s marching orders, you know.’
It was Valetta who made the most objection. She declared that it was not fair that Mysie, who had been to the ball at Rotherwood, should go again to live with lords and ladies, while she went to a nasty day-school with butchers’ and bakers’ daughters. She hoped she should grow horridly vulgar, and if mamma did not like it, it would be her own fault!
Mrs. Halfpenny, who did not like to have to separate Mysie’s clothes from the rest after they were packed, rather favoured this naughtiness by observing: ‘The old blue merino might stay at home. Miss Mysie would be too set up to wear that among her fine folk. Set her up, that she should have all the treats, while her own Miss Gillian was turned over to the auld aunties!’
‘Nonsense, nurse,’ said Gillian. ‘I’m much better pleased to go and be of some use! Val, you naughty child, how dare you make such a fuss?’ for Valetta was crying again.
‘I hate school, and I hate Rockstone, and I don’t see why Mysie should always go everywhere, and wear new frocks, and I go to the butchers and bakers and wear horrid old ones.’