QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME.
On a certain sunny morning in August, four or five weeks after Mrs. Maybright’s death, six girls stood round Dr. Maybright in his study. They were all dressed in deep mourning, but it was badly made and unbecoming, and one and all looked untidy, and a little run to seed. Their ages were as varied as their faces. Helen, aged sixteen, had a slightly plump figure, a calm, smooth, oval face, and pretty gentle blue eyes. Her hair was fair and wavy; she was the tidiest of the group, and notwithstanding the heavy make of her ugly frock, had a very sweet and womanly expression. Polly, all angles and awkwardness, came next in years; she was tall and very slim. Her face was small, her hair nearly black and very untidy, and her big, dark, restless eyes reflected each emotion of her mind.
Polly was lolling against the mantelpiece, and restlessly changing her position from one leg to another; Katie, aged eleven, was something in Helen’s style; then came the twins, Dolly and Mabel, and then a rather pale child, with a somewhat queer expression, commonly known in the family as “Firefly.” Her real name was Lucy, but no one ever dreamt of calling her by this gentle title. “Firefly” was almost always in some sort of disgrace, and scarcely knew what it was not to live in a state of perpetual mental hot water. It was privately whispered in the family circle that Polly encouraged her in her naughtiness. Whether that was the case or not, these two had a kind of quaint, elfish friendship between them, Firefly in her heart of hearts worshipping Polly, and obeying her slightest nod or wish.
“I have sent for you, girls,” said the Doctor, looking round tenderly at his six motherless daughters, “to say that I have talked over matters with Helen, and for the present at least, I am willing to give her plan a trial. I think she is right when she tells me that if it turns out successful nothing would please your mother more. It entirely depends on yourselves whether it succeeds or fails. If you are agreeable to try it, you can come to me to-morrow at this hour and tell me so. Now good-by, my dears. Helen will explain everything to you. Helen, I shall not be in for early dinner. Good-by, good-by to you all.”
The Doctor nodded, looked half-abstractedly at the upturned young faces, pushed his way through the little group, and taking up a parcel of papers and a surgical case which lay near, went straight to his carriage, which was heard immediately afterwards to bowl quickly down the avenue.
The moment he was gone Helen was surrounded by a clamorous group.
“What is it, Nell? oh, do tell us—tell us quickly,” said they, one and all.
“I thought Helen looked very important these last few days,” said Dolly. “Do tell us what it is, Nell, and what the plan is we are all to agree to.”
“It sounds rather nice to be asked to agree to things,” said Firefly. “What’s the matter, Poll? You look grumpy.”
“I think Helen may be allowed to speak,” said Polly. “Go on, Nell, out with the budget of news. And you young ones, you had better not interrupt her, for if you do, I’ll pay you out by-and-by. Now, Nell. Speak, Nell.”