She sang blithely and felt in her heart that there was nothing like it for lifting a load off one's spirits.
"Mother dear," she said, when her mother had eaten her omelette, and laid aside her knife and fork, "I have been talking to Mary about her holiday. I thought she ought to have it while the house is so empty, but she does not want to go. She only wants one day for the Sunday School treat and one to spend by the sea."
"Yes, dear, of course she can. She must, she so thoroughly deserves it. And Audrey, I have another plan that I want to talk to you about. Don't you think it would be nice to ask granny to come and stay with us while the house is quiet?"
"Granny!" For a moment Audrey's heart leaped with pleasure, then it sank. Even with all the improvements they had wrought in the house, and the meals, and the way they were served, everything seemed very different from what granny was accustomed to at home. What would she do without her comforts! Audrey's mental eye ran over the carpets, the bed and table linen; even the best was as shabby as that which granny, at home, condemned and put aside.
"Are you ashamed for her to see our poverty?" asked Mrs. Carlyle in her patient, gentle voice, and Audrey coloured at finding her thoughts thus read.
"Darling, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Granny knows what our means are, and she must realise what heavy expenses we have to meet, so she should not expect us to be anything but shabby. She would understand that with five children things need replacing more often, and that there is less to replace them with."
"Oh, I know, mother, I know. But granny had only one little boy, and a very well behaved one, and I think she couldn't realise how five of us knock the things about."
"But don't you think she would be so glad to see her one little boy, that she would overlook that?"
Audrey still looked doubtful.
"Think of it in this way, dear. Suppose we missed this opportunity, and suppose dear granny died before we invited her here. Do you think we should ever cease to feel remorseful? And don't you think she would rather be asked to come, and made to feel that we wanted her, than remain unasked because our home is shabby? Try by all means in one's power to have things as neat and nice and comfortable as possible, but don't let us put outward show before kind feeling."