Lady Emmeline had sent several things for us, some especially for mamma herself, which I was particularly glad of, as dear mamma, never thinking of herself and anxious to leave the big house as pretty as usual, had left behind some little things that I am sure she missed. And old Aunt Emmeline and Taisy seemed to have guessed by magic what these were.
'How nice!' I exclaimed, when Taisy had got them unpacked. 'This screen is just like the one you have in the boudoir at home, and cushions—I know you will be glad of some cushions, mamma, though you wouldn't bring any with you.'
'And a couvre-pied,' added Taisy; 'Granny was sure you hadn't got enough "wraps." Nothing will persuade her that it is not always as cold as winter down here.'
'It is most kind of her,' said mamma; 'and I really am very, very pleased to have these things. And—did you know, Ida?—Aunt Emmeline has also sent us two hampers full of all manner of good things to eat—chickens and a turkey, and a ham and pickled tongues, and I don't know all what.'
'Yes,' said Taisy; 'nothing will persuade her either that you are not——' She stopped suddenly and got rather red.
'I know,' said mamma, laughing, 'that we are not in danger of starvation as well as of cold. You need not mind, Taisy dear—as if anything could offend us that you said or that Aunt Emmeline thought. And of course it is true that we are anxious to spend as little as we can, while things are so uncertain.'
'And then we can't cure hams or pickle tongues like at home,' I added.
So all the kind old lady's gifts were very welcome. I think Hoskins was more pleased with the eatables than with anything.
Things had been nice before, but after Taisy came, we really did enjoy ourselves. She was always planning something amusing or interesting, and mamma declared she had never heard me or Geordie laugh so much in her life. It was very good for Geordie to be 'routed out' a little, as Taisy said. He was inclined to be too serious and anxious, and to overwork, at this time, because of the scholarship, and as I had put it into his head, I was doubly glad of being helped to keep him bright and merry, as I know he worked all the better for it. He was really anxious-minded—not like Denzil, who never laughed and was as solemn as an owl, not because he was anxious, but just because he was too fat and comfortable to worry—poor old Den!—he really is so good-tempered, I don't like laughing at him.
It was very nice too that just about this time came the first really long letter from papa; up to now he had written scarcely more than scraps. And this letter was decidedly more cheerful and hopeful.