But besides the anxieties inseparable from the details of the pending festivities, the Misses Dunning were overwhelmed and weighed down with additional duties consequent upon their brother’s sudden and unexpected determination. Little Ailie had to be got ready for sea by the following morning! It was absolute and utter insanity! No one save a madman or a sea-captain could have conceived such a thing, much less have carried it into effect tyrannically.
The Misses Dunning could not attempt any piece of duty or work separately. They always acted together, when possible; and might, in fact, without much inconvenience, have been born Siamese twins. Whatever Martha did, Jane attempted to do or to mend; wherever Jane went, Martha followed. Not, by any means, that one thought she could improve upon the work of the other; their conduct was simply the result of a desire to assist each other mutually. When Martha spoke, Jane echoed or corroborated; and when Jane spoke, Martha repeated her sentences word for word in a scarcely audible whisper—not after the other had finished, but during the course of the remarks.
With such dispositions and propensities, it is not a matter to be wondered at that the good ladies, while arranging the tea-table, should suddenly remember some forgotten article of Ailie’s wardrobe, and rush simultaneously into the child’s bedroom to rectify the omission; or, when thus engaged, be filled with horror at the thought of having left the buttered toast too near the fire in the parlour.
“It is really quite perplexing,” said Martha, sitting down with a sigh, and regarding the tea-table with a critical gaze; “quite perplexing. I’m sure I don’t know how I shall bear it. It is too bad of George—darling Ailie—(dear me, Jane, how crookedly you have placed the urn)—it is really too bad.”
“Too bad, indeed; yes, isn’t it?” echoed Jane, in reference to the captain’s conduct, while she assisted Martha, who had risen to readjust the urn.
“Oh!” exclaimed Martha, with a look of horror.
“What?” cried Jane, who looked and felt equally horrified, although she knew not yet the cause.
“The eggs!”
“The eggs?”
“Yes, the eggs. You know every one of the last dozen we got was bad, and we’ve forgot to send for more,” said Martha.