“There, my dears, I cannot have this to-day.—Miss Bedford, be kind enough to see them into the schoolroom.—There, it’s of no use, Selina; if you will not go, you must be carried.—There, for goodness’ sake, Miss Bedford, what are you thinking about? Take her up in your arms and carry her.”
Ella obeyed; for Miss Selina had refused to leave the room, clinging tightly to mamma’s skirts till she was carried off, fighting furiously, and slapping and scratching at her bearer’s face in such a way that, could Charley Vining have been a spectator, he would have been frantic.
“Never mind her scratching,” said the eldest girl; “she always does like that. This way.”
And in a few moments more Ella was able to deposit her precious charge in the schoolroom, where, set free, the sweet innocent revenged herself again by spitting, till the upper housemaid was summoned, and led Ella to her own room.
“I pity you, miss, I do,” said the woman kindly. “You’re no more fit to manage them young rips than nothing. They’re spoilt in the drawing-room, and encouraged in everything.”
“Thank you,” said Ella gently; “you mean kindly, I am sure; but pray say no more. Let me find it out by degrees.”
“Well, that’s best, certainly, miss,” said the woman, who eagerly assisted her to take off her things, and then hurried down to help get up the luggage; while Ella—did she break down and burst into weak tears?
No; smiling sadly, she determined to bear the burden that was to be hers, and nerved herself for the coming battle; so that when the housemaid returned and helped uncord the luggage, she was rewarded with a sweet and cheerful smile, which was repeated when she said she would go down and make Miss Bedford a cup of tea.
Ten minutes later, when, after coaxing the kettle to boil with a few pieces of bundle London fire-wood, she was making that infusion that is considered by the fair sex to be a balm and refreshment for every pain and fatigue, she expressed herself loudly to her fellow-servants, to the effect that “that was quite an angel they had got upstairs. But it’s my belief,” she added, “that the poor thing don’t know what she’s got to put up with.”