"We all cried the morning Violet left," Madge reminded him, "you, too, Billy. I saw you wiping your eyes when you thought no one was looking."
"I am sure it was only natural that we should have all been upset," remarked Mrs. Wyndham, who looked as though it would not take much to reduce her to tears at the present moment; "I cannot bear to think of Violet separated from you others; but, at the same time, I know it is for her benefit, and I have a feeling that she will be happy with the Reeds. We shall be able to glean more from her next letter."
In the course of a few days Violet wrote again. She had been rather home-sick, she confessed, and she missed them all dreadfully; but everybody was most kind and considerate to her.
"Mrs. Reed is much more particular in many ways than you are, mother," she wrote; "and she is rather strict with the servants, I fancy, though they appear to like her. This house is kept as clean as a new pin. Mrs. Reed says she learnt the great virtues of cleanliness and order when she was a hospital nurse. Did you know she had worked for her living? She was at a hospital in London for several years. In some ways she is very particular. She won't allow the least waste, and she is as careful as though Dr. Reed was quite poor. Isn't that odd of her? I call it so. And yet, she's not in the least mean, for Polly—she's the tweeny-maid—told me yesterday that she's been so good to the cook's mother, who has been ill, giving her food-dainties such as sick people like—and money, too."
Violet then went on to say that, as the weather had continued cold and snowy, she had only left the house once since her arrival, which occasion had been on Sunday when, with Mrs. Reed and Ann, she had attended the nearest church, situated only about five minutes' walk from Laureston Square.
"But the weather is clearing at last," she wrote; "it is thawing fast as I am writing, and the sun is beginning to shine, so I hope soon I shall really see something of Barford. Mrs. Reed said this morning that she must try to get out to do some shopping, and that Ann and I might accompany her. I understand there are some fine shops not far from here, for Laureston Square is in what is considered the best part of the town, and many of the people living hereabouts are very rich. I do not see much of Dr. Reed, for he is generally busy all day till evening, although, as you know, he keeps an assistant—Mr. Luscombe. Mr. Luscombe has lodgings not far from here, Ann tells me; he is a little man who wears spectacles, and he is getting bald though he is quite young—young for a doctor, I mean; Ann says she thinks he is about twenty-seven.
"I like Ann. She is very good-natured, and wants to treat me just like a sister; she says she has always wished so much to have a sister. She loves to hear about Ruthie and Madge. I haven't told her what a little house ours is at Streatham, perhaps I shall when I know her better—Dr. Reed may have told her, that I don't know. I wonder what she would think of Barbara. I am certain Mrs. Reed wouldn't keep a servant who is always 'in a rush,' but I don't suppose she knows what one has to put up with if one can only afford a general servant." The letter concluded with many protestations of affection for all the dear ones at home, and requested a speedy answer from Mrs. Wyndham or Ruth.
"She is settling down comfortably and happily," said Mr. Wyndham, when his wife asked him what he thought of this last communication from the absent one, "do you not think so?"
"Yes," she agreed, "but it must be a very great change for her." She glanced meaningly around the sitting-room, as she spoke, and sighed. "I hope she will learn to be orderly," she said, "but I fear she will find it not a little hard."