Barker smiled, and it was wonderful how a smile changed her usually grim face, and gave it a comeliness Marigold had never thought it could wear.
"There's not much to tell," she answered. "Mother lives in an almshouse, and has everything she wants. She says her old age is the happiest, most comfortable time she has known; and I daresay she's right, for she had a long family to provide for and put out in the world as best she could. Father died, and left her with seven children; but she'd a brave heart of her own, had mother, and she worked hard to bring us up respectably."
"Why, that is like my mother, only there are but three of us instead of seven!" Marigold cried.
Then she was encouraged by Barker's face to tell her about her own dear mother, and was surprised how sympathetic and interested her aunts' maid seemed to be. They had quite an animated conversation together, and in one half hour Barker learnt more about Marigold and her London home than she had discovered in the weeks they had spent under the same roof.
"How you must miss your brothers!" Barker remarked at length. "Ah! It must be dull for you here after living with young folks. I'm glad you're going to school, Miss Marigold, for I daresay you'll soon make friends there. Well, I must get about my work, or I shall be behind-hand, and I've all the household linen to put away."
Whereupon Barker took her departure reluctantly, for she had been much interested in what Marigold had said about her mother and the boys; whilst Marigold's mind had fresh food for reflection in thinking of Barker's old mother and Barker herself, who was a much pleasanter person than the little girl had thought.
[CHAPTER VII]
MARIGOLD'S FIRST DAYS AT SCHOOL, AND HER
ENCOUNTER WITH MURIEL WAKE
MARIGOLD commenced her school-days with a buoyant heart, and a desire to please Miss Hardcastle and the governesses. The principal was a clever, clear-sighted woman, a splendid manager and disciplinarian, who ruled her school with an iron hand, yet with such tact and skill that she was much liked and respected by parents, teachers, and pupils. She was a small woman, with a quiet manner, and a persuasive voice; but there was a dignity about her that never failed to command obedience, and the threat, "You shall be sent to Miss Hardcastle to be dealt with as she thinks fit,"—was sufficient to subdue the spirit of the most refractory scholar.