“I suppose it’s no good my getting up till the servants are down, and till it’s lighter,” thought the little girl. “I’ll try to keep still till it strikes the half-hour, or at least till I can see the figures on the bee-clock. But it’s awfully tiresome. I can’t understand Lelly liking to stay in bed.”
And never did a half-hour pass more slowly for an impatient child than did this one. Still, Chrissie kept to her resolution; she could be both sensible and self-controlled when it suited her.
But by seven o’clock she was fully dressed, though there had been no question of a bath, seeing that Harriet only brought the hot water at half-past, and I fear the amount of washing that she had stealthily performed with cold water and a basin only, had better not be inquired into. All the same, she felt decidedly proud of her good management when she found herself quietly slipping downstairs, leaving Leila still peacefully slumbering.
It was not a very cold morning and it had quite left off raining. Still, it felt very chilly as she entered the drawing-room, where Harriet had just opened the windows.
“Miss Chrissie!” she exclaimed with a start.
“Is there anything the matter?”
“Of course not. I’ve got up early to do the flowers. Mother said I might. So go and fetch them at once, and bring the glasses to put them in, and a big can of water.”
Harriet hesitated.
“Couldn’t you wait, Miss, just till I’ve brushed and swept up and done the fire? I’ve to get the room right quickly, you see, to be ready for the old lady.”
”‘Wait’!” repeated Christabel, “of course I can’t. And you’re very rude, Harriet, to speak of the ‘old lady’ like that. Can’t you say ‘Miss Fortescue’?”