“No, my dear. I trust it will not be necessary. It could not be easily managed,” said Mrs Inglis, with a sigh.
“If we were only not quite so poor,” said Violet.
“I say, Letty, don’t you think mamma has trouble enough without your bother?” said Jem, sharply, as his mother went out of the room. Violet looked at him in astonishment.
“If we were only not quite so poor!” repeated Jem, in the doleful tone she had used. “You have said that three times within half an hour. You had better stay up at the big house, if that is all the good you can do by coming home.”
“That will do, Jem! Don’t spoil your sermon by making it too long,” said David, laughing.
“Sermon! No, I leave that to you, Davie. But what is the use of being so dismal? And it isn’t a bit like Letty.”
“But, Jem, it is true. The children look so ill, and if they could only get a change of air—”
“And don’t you suppose mamma knows all that better than you can tell her? What is the good of telling her? She has been looking all day for you to come and cheer us up and brighten us a little, and now that you have come you are as dismal as—I don’t know what. You have been having too easy times lately, and can’t bear hardness,” said Jem, severely.
“Have I?” said Violet, with an uncertain little laugh.
“Softly, Jem, lad!” said his mother, who had come in again. “I think she has been having a rather hard time, only it will not do her much good to tell her so.”