How It All Came Round

by L. T. Meade

THE CHILDREN'S ATTIC.

It was one thing for Alexander Wilson to agree to let matters alone for the present, and by so doing to oblige both Charlotte Home and Charlotte Harman, but it was quite another thing for him to see his niece, his own Daisy's child, suffering from poverty. Sandy had been accustomed to roughing it in the Australian bush. He had known what it was to go many hours without food, and when that food could be obtained it was most generally of the coarsest and commonest quality. He had known, too, what the cold of lying asleep in the open air meant. All that an ordinary man could endure had Sandy pulled through in his efforts to make a fortune. He had never grumbled at these hardships, they had passed over him lightly. He would, he considered, have been less than man to have complained. But nevertheless, when he entered the Home's house, and took possession of the poorly-furnished bedroom, and sat down day after day to the not too abundant meals; when he saw pretty little Daisy cry because her mother could not give her just what was most nourishing for her breakfast, and Harold, still pale and thin, having to do without the beef-tea which the doctor had ordered for him; when Sandy saw these things his heart waxed hot, and a great grumbling fit took possession of his kindly, genial soul. This grumbling fit reached its culminating point, when one day—mother, children, and maid all out—he stole up softly to the children's nursery. This small attic room, close to the roof, low, insufficiently ventilated, was altogether too much for Sandy. The time had come for him to act, and he was never the man to shirk action in any way. Charlotte Harman was all very well; that dying father of hers, whom he pronounced a most atrocious sinner, and took pleasure in so thinking him, he also was well enough, but everything could not give way to them. Though for the present Mr. Harman's money could not be touched for the Home's relief, yet Sandy's own purse was open, and that purse, he flattered himself, was somewhat comfortably lined. Yes, he must do something, and at once. Having examined with marked disgust the children's attic, he marched down the street. Tremins Road was long and narrow, but leading out of it was a row of fine new houses. These houses were about double the size of number ten, were nicely finished, and though many of them were already taken, two or three had boards up, announcing that they were still to let. Sandy saw the agent's name on the board, and went off straight to consult with him. The result of this consultation was that in half an hour he and the agent were all over the new house. Sandy went down to the basement, and thought himself particularly knowing in poking his nose into corners, in examining the construction of the kitchen-range, and expecting a copper for washing purposes to be put up in the scullery. Upstairs he selected a large and bright room, the windows of which commanded a peep of distant country. Here his pretty little Pet Daisy might play happily, and get back her rosy cheeks, and sleep well at night without coming downstairs heavy-eyed to breakfast. Finally he took the house on the spot, and ordered in paperers and painters for the following Monday.

He was asked if he would like to choose the papers. "Certainly," he replied, inwardly resolving that the nursery should be covered with pictures. He appointed an hour on Monday for his selections. This day was Saturday. He then went to the landlord of No. 10, Tremins Road, and made an arrangement for the remainder of the Homes' lease. This arrangement cost him some money, but he reflected again with satisfaction that his purse was well lined. So far he had conducted his plans without difficulty. But his next step was not so easy; without saying a word to either Charlotte or her husband, he had deprived them of one home, while providing them with another. No doubt the new home was vastly superior to the old. But still it came into his mind that they might consider his action in the light of a liberty; in short, that this very peculiar and unworldly couple might be capable of taking huff and might refuse to go at his bidding. Sandy set his wits to work over this problem, and finally he concocted a scheme. He must come round this pair by guile. He thought and thought, and in the evening when her husband was out he had a long talk with his niece. By a few judiciously chosen words he contrived to frighten Charlotte about her husband's health. He remarked that he looked ill, worn, very much older than his years. He said, with a sigh, that when a man like Home broke down he never got up again. He was undermining his constitution. When had he had a change?

"Never once since we were married," answered the wife with tears in her eyes.

Sandy shook his head very sadly and gravely over this, and after a moment of reflection brought out his scheme.

Easter was now over, there was no special press of parish work. Surely Homes' Rector would give him a holiday, and allow him to get away from Monday to Saturday night? Why not run away to Margate for those six days, and take his wife and three children with him? No, they need take no maid, for he, Uncle Sandy, having proposed this plan must be answerable for the expense. He would put them all up at a good hotel, and Anne could stay at home to take care of him. Of course to this scheme there were many objections raised. But, finally, the old Australian overruled them each and all. The short leave was granted by the Rector. The rooms at the hotel which commanded the best sea-view were taken by Sandy, and the Homes left 10 Tremins Road, little guessing that they were not to return there. When he had seen father, mother, and three happy little children off by an early train, Sandy returned quickly to Tremins Road. There he called Anne to him, and unfolded to the trembling and astonished girl his scheme.

"We have to be in the new house as snug as snug by Saturday night, my girl," he said in conclusion. "We have to bring away what is worth moving of this furniture, and it must all be clean and fresh, for a clean new house. And, look here, Anne, you can't do all the work; do you happen to know of a good, hard-working girl, who would come and help you, and stay altogether if Mrs. Home happened to like her, just a second like yourself, my lass?"

"Oh, please, sir, please, sir," answered Anne, "there's my own sister, she's older nor me, and more knowing. She's real 'andy, and please, sir, she'd like it real awful well."

"Engage her by all means," said Wilson, "go at once for her. See; where does she live? I will pay the cab fare."

"Oh, was anything so exactly like the Family Herald," thought Anne as she drove away.