“In work, in work, in work alway, let my young days be passed, that I may fade away and die, as I am doing f–ast!” sighed Kitty Maitland one afternoon a month later, as she sat in the porch-room, surrounded with a mountain of needlework, on which she was laboriously stitching labels, while the elder girls consulted together as to prices, and Elsie plied an iron at a side-table, smoothing away disfiguring creases and crumples. It was amazing to see the quantity of work which had been gathered together, and nobody was more surprised at the amount than the workers themselves. When the contents of drawers, ottomans, and cupboards had been gathered together and laid on the table, the girls had gasped with amazement. Who could have believed that their little efforts could have achieved such a whole? Who could have credited that friends would have come forward with such generous and ready help? During the last few days parcels had arrived by every post, and from the most unexpected sources; while good, kind Maud had come home from Paris with a box full of spoils from the Louvre and Bon Marché. Lilias declared that her heart leapt within her when she reflected that she had originated the beneficent scheme; but Nan vowed that it made her tired even to look at the things, and reflect how hard-worked she must have been; and Kitty, as has been seen, went in absolute fear of her life!
“I never want to see another pin-cushion so long as I live!” she announced tragically, as she tacked the label on the last of these useful articles, and tossed it impatiently to her companions. “If you charge more than one and six for that beauty, it’s a cheat, for it’s a regular museum of odds and ends. Heigho! this grows monotonous. Let me go out into the garden and begin preparations there. My master mind is wasted sitting here sewing on labels. I want scope—variety!”
“You can’t get it then, until you have finished the work on hand. It ought not to matter to you what you do, so long as you are helping forward,” said Lilias severely. “To-morrow morning will be plenty of time to arrange the tables.”
“If it is fine! I am sorry to discourage you, but it is raining already. I see five drops on the window-pane,” announced Elsie in a tone of satisfaction, born of the remembrance that she had “told them so!” months ago, and that they had refused to believe her; but her triumph was short-lived, for the girls only laughed at her five drops, called her their “faithful croaker,” and altogether played such havoc with her dignity that she retired within her shell in displeasure. Had the occasion been less important, she would have flown to her room to pour out her woes to the ever-sympathetic diary; but no personal slight could be allowed to interfere with work to-day, for at four o’clock Jim would arrive, and never should it be said that the Rendell girls were engaged on their own devices when the one and only brother returned to his home! The first few hours after Jim’s arrival could be spent in no other way than gazing upon him, in drinking in his words, and hanging around him in adoring admiration.
By four o’clock the porch-room was abandoned, and each sister, attired in her best blouse and freshest skirt, was craning her head out of the dining-room window, while Kitty Maitland hovered in the background, scarcely less excited than themselves. He came. He stepped out of the fly, paid the cabman, and lounged up the path, lifting his head to nod in patronising fashion to his adorers. He was no Apollo of beauty, no Samson of strength, but just an ordinary-looking young man in an ordinary grey suit, with ordinary irregular features redeemed from plainness by an expression of quizzical good humour; yet each of the eight beholders gave a gasp of adoration as she beheld him. His mother’s eyes swam with tears as she embraced her boy; Maud felt a ray of pure, unselfish happiness; even Lilias overlooked the fact that his collar was of an unfashionable shape in the delight of meeting. As for the younger girls, they fell upon him, and hugged and kissed, and kissed and hugged again, until he was obliged to beat them off with his long grey arms.
“Now, then! Now, then! Leave a fellow alone! I won’t stand being mauled to death!” cried the ungrateful male, scrubbing his cheek with his handkerchief, as if contaminated by the touch of so many feminine lips. “Take it easy, and I’ll speak to each in turn, but I can’t tackle the bundle together. Where’s Maud? Where’s my Maud? Come over here, Maud, and don’t let these youngsters keep you in the background! Holloa, Nan, what’s the matter with your back hair? Done it up, eh? Doesn’t look half so well, you know, but I suppose you take it out in honour and glory. Best respects, Lilias; how’s the young man? You kiddies are getting too tall—that’s what’s the matter with you. I shall feel quite an old man at this rate. Do you mean to say that is ‘Cath-er-ine Maitland’ I see before me? Kitty, my own! How large you have grown!”
“Jim, you rude man! Behave, if you can!” retorted Kitty with admirable promptitude. It was an old habit of these two to converse in couplets, though Kitty lived in chronic dread of an hour when she should fail to invent an appropriate reply. Her present success filled her with satisfaction, and evoked a burst of laughter from her companions; and though Jim rolled his eyes at her in threatening manner as he entered the drawing-room, he refrained from a further effort, and devoted his attention to the admirable tea provided for his benefit. His sisters waited upon him obsequiously, while his mother sat with folded hands gloating over the sight of the tall, masculine figure seated in state on the centre of the sofa. What joy to behold him again—her only son, her pride, her darling! How she glorified him, and exulted in him, and rejoiced in every evidence of his beautiful manhood! The sight of the thick-soled boots gave her a positive thrill of joy; she looked unmoved at the mud on the carpet, and did not even wince when he crumpled her best silk cushion behind his back.
Jim looked across, caught her glance, and flashed back an answering message which made her heart swell with joy. Her boy loved her, and had no fear to meet his mother’s eye! That was all she wanted to know, and she knew it without further questioning. Jim was not given to words; and even if he wished to speak, how could the poor boy get a chance, with seven excited girls all talking to him at the same moment?
Jim listened blankly for some moments before he could understand the drift of the remarks, but gradually the words “Sale” and “Bazaar” disentangled themselves from the clamour and awoke a dim remembrance.
“Oh, the sale for the Mission! You did tell me something about it! Coming off to-morrow, is it? That’s a bore! Why didn’t you get it over before I came?”