“Jenkins or Jones, I’d have given her sore bones,” spitefully improvised Firefly.
“Well, she’s not to come,” continued Helen, “at least, not at present. For I have persuaded father to let us try the other plan. He says all our relations will be angry with him; of course, he is not likely to care for that. This is what we are to try, girls, if you are agreeable. Father is going to get the very best daily governess from Nettleship to come here every morning. She will stay until after early dinner, and then George will drive her back to town in the pony trap. And then Mr. Masters is to come twice a week, as usual, about our music, and Mr. Danvers for drawing. And Miss Wilson is to stay here most of the day to look after Bunny and Bob. That is a much better arrangement than having a resident governess, is it not?”
“Yes,” said three or four voices, but Polly was silent, and Firefly, eagerly watching her face, closed her own resolute lips.
“That is part of father’s plan,” continued Helen. “But the other, and more important part is this. I am to undertake the housekeeping. Father says he would like Polly to help me a little, but the burden and responsibility of the whole thing rests on me. And also, girls, father says that there must be some one in absolute authority. There must be some one who can settle disputes, and keep things in order, and so he says that unless you are all willing to do what I ask you to do, the scheme must still fall through, and we must be like the Brewsters or any other unhappy girls whose mothers are no longer with them, and have our resident governess.”
“I know you won’t like to obey me,” continued Helen, looking anxiously round, “but I don’t think I’ll be hard on you. No, I am sure I shall not be hard on any of you.”
“That remains to be proved,” said Polly. “I don’t think I like that plan. I won’t give any answer at present—I’ll think about it. Come along, Fly,” she nodded to her younger sister, and then, lifting the heavy bottom sash of the window where Helen had been sitting, stepped lightly out, followed by the obedient Firefly.
“I don’t want to obey Nell,” said the little sister, clasping two of Polly’s fingers with her thin, small hand. “If it was you, Poll Parrot, it would be a different thing, but I don’t want to obey Nell. I don’t think it’s fair; she’s only my sister, like the rest of them. There’s nothing said in the Catechism about obeying sisters. It’s only fathers and mothers, and spiritual pastors and masters.”
“And all those put in authority over you,” proceeded Polly, shaking her fingers free, and facing round on Firefly, in a way which caused that young person to back several inches. “If Helen once gets the authority the Catechism is on her side, not on yours.”
“But I needn’t promise, need I?” pouted Firefly. “If it was you, it would be different. I always did what you wanted me to do, Polly Perkins.”
“Of course you did,” responded Polly, in a most contemptuous voice. “Will a duck swim? I led you into mischief—of course you followed. Well, Fly, it rests with yourself. Don’t obey our dear, good, gentle Nelly, and you’ll have Miss Jenkins here. Won’t it be fun to see her squinting at you over her spectacles when she returns your spelling-lessons. Bread and water will be your principal diet most of the week. Well, good-by now; I’m off to baby.”