Not Like Other Girls

by Rosa Nouchette Carey

“Stuff! nonsense! why need he have telegraphed? I suppose what is good enough for Mattie and the rest of us is good enough for Archie!”

Mr. Drummond spoke testily as he put down the paper. These hints about the late dinners always nettled him. His renunciation of them years ago had been a heavy piece of self-denial, for he was a man rather fond of creature comforts; he had done it for his children’s sake; but it was more than flesh and blood could bear that this renounced luxury should be served for his son’s benefit. Was he not as good as Archie, though he had not been to a University and become fellow of his college?

“Father is quite right,” returned Archie, cheerfully. “I would not telegraph, because I wanted to surprise you; and I knew you were such a good manager, mother, that you would have plenty of aired sheets ready for my bed. Of course what is good enough for Mattie is right for me. As we are both as hungry as hunters, we shall do justice to anything you have prepared.”

“There is only some cold meat and some ham and eggs,” observed Mrs. Drummond, a little plaintively. She did not dare anger her husband further by proposing even a chop, for she knew how touchy he was about Archie’s fastidiousness; but if she could have had her own way she would have killed the fatted calf for this dearest son. Nothing was too good for him in her eyes; and yet for the sake of tranquillity she dared not even hazard the question of a chop.

“Cold meat,—that is just what I should like,” replied Archie, with excellent sang-froid. He detested that stock-dish of the Lowder Street larder, ham and eggs. The eggs were dubious, he considered,—not actually new-laid, but a little suggestive of lime. “But there! you must not give me all your attention, mother,” he continued. “I have brought Mattie home, you see, and you have never told her even how she looks.”

“She looks very well,” replied Mrs. Drummond. In spite of her anxiety about Archie, she had been looking at her daughter more than once with puzzled eyes. There was something different about her, she thought. It was hardly like Mattie to come in so quietly among them all and take her place beside her father. Mattie seldom did anything without a fuss: it was her ordinary way to stand among them chattering as fast as her tongue would go, until some one reminded her that it was time for her to take off her hat and jacket or 358 she would be late for tea. But to-night Mattie had hardly opened her lips, except to answer her father’s questions about the journey. She had kissed her sisters very quietly, and had asked after Isabel, and had then proposed of her own accord to go upstairs.

“Clara, go up with your sister. No, not Laura; you will all get chattering, and then we shall be kept waiting. Isabel is upstairs, Archie: she has come in to sit with us this evening, as Ellis has to go to a business dinner. He will call for her on his way.”

“I am very glad she is here,” returned Archie, “for I have to go back by the early train to-morrow. Ah, there she is. Well, how are you, Belle?” greeting her affectionately as she came up to him rather shyly. Archie could hardly help smiling at the contrast between Isabel’s brilliant evening toilet and his other sister’s brown stuff dress. It was a little trying to his gravity to see her putting on such pretty little airs of matronly dignity. Mrs. Ellis Burton was an important person now; that was sufficiently obvious; the plump little figure was most lavishly adorned. But the round childish face was certainly very pretty; and, as every other sentence brought in “Ellis,” and as Ellis’s opinion appeared always right in her eyes, Archie deduced that his sister was satisfied with her choice.

“Oh, dear, Mattie! how droll it is to see you home again!” exclaimed Susie, who was noted for making awkward speeches. “And how funny you look beside Isabel!”

“We are very glad to have her back,” returned Mrs. Drummond, in her repressive tones. She was just refilling her teapot from the urn, but she found opportunity to shake her head at Susie. “People do not generally look smart in their travelling-dress; but I think she looks very nice. Had you not a commoner gown, my dear? That looks almost too good for the purpose;” for Mrs. Drummond’s sense of economy was a little shocked by perceiving that Mattie’s gown was a new one.