The Christmas holidays were not yet come to an end. Consequently as there was no hurrying off to be in good time for school, the meal was rather a longer one than usual. Perhaps Mrs. Grainger wished there had been need for haste. The younger children did not understand that it would have been kinder to their mother to have made no remark on the vacant place at the breakfast-table, nor to have talked so freely, and dolefully, too, of the father who had gone away.
Then Giles was very anxious to know whether he went "in a four-wheeler or a hansom," and whether he had taken a certain aluminium pencil-case, which Giles had bought with a shilling—the careful savings of several months—and given him for a Christmas present.
So the younger children lingered over the meal long after Edgar—who had returned from seeing his father off—had left for business, and Robert had taken his departure to the house of a schoolfellow with whom he was going to spend the day. They finished at last, however, and Dora offered to go for Lancie's tray. He, poor child, was not so well as usual this morning, and had taken his breakfast in bed.
When she returned to the sitting room, Mary, their little maid of-all-work, was clearing the table. Dora had to wait a few minutes before she found an opportunity of speaking to her mother.
"Mother dear," she said, "I want to begin at once to help you all I can. Will you let me attend to the cooking to-day?"
"You will do me a greater service if you will take the children for a long walk. It will be so good for them, this cold frosty morning, and in holiday time they always get restless if they are kept in the house."
Dora would much have preferred making the pudding, and preparing the cold meat left from yesterday's dinner for a hash, but her good resolutions were fresh in her memory, and she instantly said she would do as her mother wished.
"But you need not go yet," went on Mrs. Grainger. "If you start in an hour, or an hour-and-a-half, it will be soon enough. Before then you might get a nice practice."
"Yes, but I will put my room tidy first, please," said Dora. "I hadn't time to do it before I came down this morning. Oh, mother—" she stopped a moment, then throwing her arms round her mother's neck whispered, "I do hope I shall be a real help to you now and always. Will you let me have a quiet talk with you some time to-day? And will you give me a lot of work? I have been thinking I might teach the children entirely now. And there are other things I should like to undertake."
"Do not want to do too much at once, my child," replied her mother, fondly. "But I am sure it will be good for you to have regular daily work, and I intended speaking to you about it as soon as your father had gone. I cannot promise you a talk before the little ones have gone to bed, but we will certainly have a quiet chat together then. Now, dear, run and put your room in order."