'H-m,' said mother. 'I don't think you'd find it as amusing as you think. However, you would of course have to live plainly in some ways, but still it must be a comfortable sort of place. It would not do to run any risks for the girls after their illness.'
Just at that moment Alfred brought in a note that had come, and 'they,' he said—why do servants always say 'they' for a messenger when there's only one?—'were waiting for an answer.'
The note was from young Mrs. Chasserton, Cousin Dorothea. She had just come back to London, she said, and she was so sorry to hear how ill "the children" had all been'—thank you, all but one, if you please. And would mother come to see her? She had got a horrid cold, and couldn't go out, but she wasn't a bit afraid of whooping-cough—she'd had it. 'Please come to tea this afternoon, and bring any child that's well enough to go out.'
'Oh, I can't,' said mother, 'I've too much on my mind!'
'Oh, do go,' I said, 'it'll do you good. You've not had the least little change for ever so long. And let me come with you, mums, as the others mayn't go out yet. I like Cousin Dorothea; and perhaps she could tell us of some farmhouse, as she's always lived in the country.'
So mother wrote a word to say she'd go.
And that afternoon we did go. I had never been in the Chassertons' house before. It was a nice little place, and it was all decked out like a doll's house with Dorothea's wedding presents. I amused myself very well by walking round the room looking at them all. They weren't very well arranged. There was a corner cupboard with glass doors, filled with china, and it was all mixty-maxty. Blue or plain-coloured china on the same shelf as many-coloured Dresden or oriental. (I know something about china, and I mean to know more before I've done with it.) The key was in the lock, and I couldn't resist opening the doors and moving one or two pieces to see how much better they might look.
But just then Dorothea called me over to tea. She was a sensible girl. She'd had some bread-and-butter and jam ready spread, thicker than those silly wafer slices ladies eat, and the jam was my favourite—strawberry. I felt very comfortable. I was glad I'd made mother come. She looked brighter.
I spoke to Cousin Dorothea about the bad way her china was arranged.
'Yes,' she said, 'I know it is.'