They went to Micky’s room after that. They had to cross the passage and go down some steps in order to reach it, for it was in the part of the house which had been the original Fir-tree Cottage, where the rooms were all much lower—like cottage rooms in fact. There were but two of them on the upstairs floor, and the other one was to be the schoolroom. Underneath these two rooms were two others, now used as the scullery and larder. Micky’s room was not quite so daintily furnished as his sisters’, but it had a delightful view out on to the lawn and wood beyond, which made it a very pleasant one. What especially gratified Micky, however, was its being alone. ‘You need a man to sleep in this part of the house,’ he remarked; ‘burglars would be sure to choose it to attack, because they’d think there would be fewer people to shoot them, so it’s a jolly good thing it’s me you’ve put here, and not the girls.’
‘Micky always sleeps with his gun at the foot of his bed, just in case,’ said Kitty.
Just at that moment the dinner-bell rang.
‘Well, I must run and get ready,’ said Aunt Grace. ‘Can I lend anybody anything?’
‘Thank you; we should be very grateful for a sponge,’ said Emmeline, ‘and, Aunt Grace, Micky must wash, mustn’t he? Just look at his hands!’
Micky made a face at her, and Aunt Grace said calmly: ‘I expect he will wash: gentlemen usually do. But I feel it’s a question we must leave to himself—at all events till his luggage comes.’
Emmeline flushed crimson. Then a choky feeling came into her throat; her eyes began to sting, and she had to hurry out of the room lest she should burst out crying. It was not only that she was hurt for herself, but her sense of loyalty was grieved. Mary had always made Micky wash his hands before dinner. It would always be like this, she said to herself. The others would leave off all the good ways they had been taught, and whenever Emmeline, the only one who would never forget, tried to remind them, Aunt Grace would snub her.
The chokiness and the stinging gradually passed off, and Emmeline could trust her voice again.
‘Kitty, you really needn’t have gone and told Aunt Grace about our only having one wash-stand and dressing-table at home,’ she snapped, as they were washing their hands.
‘Why ever not?’ asked Kitty, opening her eyes.