“Why, the grass is as dry as the carpet; and what are their little legs good for but to run with?” said Cicely.
Whereupon little Annie made up a solemn countenance, and said, “Please, miss, I promised missis——”
Mab rushed off with the children before the sentence was completed. “That’s why they are so pale,” cried the impetuous girl; “poor little white-faced things! But we never promised missis. Let us take them into our own hands.”
“You are a good girl to remember what your mistress said,” said Cicely with dignity, walking out after her sister in very stately fashion. And she reproved Mab for her rashness, and led the little boys about, promenading the walks. “We must get rid of these two maids,” she said, “or we shall never be allowed to have anything our own way.”
“But you said they were good girls for remembering,” said Mab, surprised.
“So they were; but that is not to say I am going to put up with it,” said Cicely, drawing herself to her full height, and looking Miss St. John, as Mab asserted she was very capable of doing when she pleased.
“You are very funny, Cicely,” said the younger sister; “you praise the maids, and yet you want to get rid of them; and you think what ‘missis’ made them promise is nonsense, yet there you go walking about with these two mites as if you had promised missis yourself.”
“Hush!” said Cicely, and then the tears came into her eyes. “She is dead!” said this inconsistent young woman, with a low voice full of remorse. “It would be hard if one did not give in to her at first about her own little boys.”
After this dawdling in the morning, they made up their minds to work in the afternoon. Much as they loved the sunshine, they were obliged to draw down the blinds with their own hands, to the delight of Betty, to whom Cicely was obliged to explain that this was not to save the carpet. It is difficult to know what to do in such circumstances, especially when there is nothing particular to be done. It was too hot to go out; and as for beginning needlework in cold blood the first day you are in a new place, or have come back to an old one, few girls of eighteen and nineteen are so virtuous as that. One thing afforded them a little amusement, and that was to pull things about, and alter their arrangement, and shape the room to their own mind. Cicely took down a worked banner-screen which hung from the mantelpiece, and which offended her fastidious taste; or rather, she began to unscrew it, removing first the crackling semi-transparent veil that covered it. “Why did she cover them up so?” cried Cicely, impatiently.
“To keep them clean, of course,” said Mab.