"I've said mine," whispered Poppy, in rather an injured tone. Esther looked at her warningly. "Yes, I know, but Cousin Charlotte hasn't, and—and this is different. Lots of people do this. Sit there, and don't talk."
Poppy obeyed. Anything that her sisters approved was right, in her judgment. Penelope seated herself by the window, Angela on a little chair by the empty hearth, a grave, devout look on her pretty face. Then Anna came in, and Miss Ashe opened the Bible and read. She read only a few verses, but they were such as would appeal to the hearts of children. Then she closed the book and knelt down; at a sign from Esther they all knelt too, and Miss Ashe asked God's blessing on this new day and their new life, and thanked Him for His care and love, after which she began to repeat the Lord's Prayer.
"Oh, I know that," exclaimed Poppy delightedly. She repeated the prayer sentence by sentence; Anna did the same, and Esther and the others joined in; and to Esther, at least, as the sacred words were spoken, the whole world seemed to alter. The worry and irritability, the dread of she knew not what, all slipped away from her; and life seemed brighter and happier, and full of good things.
"What a lovely way to begin a day," she thought. "I hope we always have prayers. She got up and helped Poppy to her feet, and, after a moment or two, they all drew up to the table. Poppy looked about her with frank interested eyes.
"Oh, what a lovely breakfast!" she sighed, apparently overwhelmed by the loveliness, and every one was obliged to laugh. It was what they were all thinking, but the elder ones did not like to put their thoughts into words. Yet it was a simple enough meal; but the clean white cloth and shining silver, the flowers and fruit, and the dainty neatness of everything made it seem perfectly beautiful to little people accustomed to Lydia's untidy, careless ways, to soiled and ragged cloths, badly washed silver and dirty knives, and food put down anyhow, and often not enough of it. This was what Esther had always instinctively yearned for; to the others it came as a surprise.
"I've been thinking, children," said Cousin Charlotte—who had indeed been lying awake half the night, realising for the first time all she had undertaken, and trying to grasp all her duties. "I have been thinking you had better perhaps have a few days' holiday to begin with, so as to get accustomed to your new surroundings, and then by and by we must begin to think about lessons. I am expecting to hear from your mother or father as to their views on the subject of your education. I expect they are anxious that you two elder ones should go to a good school at once. And that is one of my greatest difficulties, and the greatest drawback to your coming here, for there is no good school within reach, and I am puzzled to know what to do. It is so important that you should have every advantage now."
Esther's heart sank, for Cousin Charlotte's sake as much as anything. She knew as well as possible that Cousin Charlotte would have to settle this matter for herself, and bear the responsibility entirely. She knew, too, that the importance of it appealed as little to her mother as it did greatly to her cousin. Mrs. Carroll was one of those happy-go-lucky persons, so difficult to deal with, who think that 'sufficient for the day is the evil thereof,' and 'the future will take care of itself,' so what is the use of worrying—something is sure to turn up, and everything will turn out right, somehow.
It never occurred to her that her four children's future depended almost entirely on the education given them now; or to ponder what, poor and ill-educated, their future would be.
"Oh, something will be sure to happen," she would have answered. "What is the use of planning, no one knows what the future may bring." Miss Ashe's idea, on the other hand, was that with a good education any child had, at any rate, one strong weapon with which to fight her way.
At Dorsham the post did not come in until ten o'clock, so that there was no correspondence to discuss over the breakfast-table. Not that the children expected any letters; they had never received one in their lives.