“Yes, run along, my pet, and don’t keep me too long waiting.” Nevertheless, Lord Fitzroy did not object when his wife made room for him a moment beside her on the couch, while she made it up to him for her cross speeches, as she told him.
“There, little mother, it is all done!” exclaimed Phillis, in a tone of triumph, as later on in the afternoon they returned to the cottage; but in spite of her bravado, both the girls looked terribly jaded, and Nan especially seemed out of spirits; but then they had been round the Longmead garden, and had gathered some flowers in the conservatory, and this alone would have been depressing work to Nan.
From that time they lived in a perpetual whirl, a bustle of activity that grew greater; and not less, from day to day. Mrs. Challoner had quietly but decidedly refused the Paines’ invitation. Nan was right; nothing would have induced her to leave her girls in their trouble: she made light of their discomfort, forgot her invalid airs, and persisted in fatiguing herself to an alarming extent.
“You must let me do things; I should be wretched to sit with my hands before me, and not help you,” she said with tears in her eyes, and when they appealed in desperation to Dorothy, she took her mistress’s side:
“Working hurts less than worrying. Don’t you be fretting about the mistress too much, or watching her too closely. It will do her no harm, take my word for it.” And Dorothy was right.
But there was one piece of work that Nan set her mother to do before they left the cottage.
“Mother,” she said to her one day when they were alone together. “Mrs. Mayne will be wondering why you do not answer her letter. I think you had better write, and tell her a 88 little about things. We must not put it off any longer, or she will be hurt with us.” And Mrs. Challoner very reluctantly set about her unpleasant task.
But, after all, it was Nan who furnished the greater part of the composition. Mrs. Challoner was rather verbose and descriptive in her style. Nan cut down her sentences ruthlessly, and so pruned and simplified the whole epistle that her mother failed to trace her own handiwork: and at the last she added a postscript in her own pretty handwriting.
Mrs. Challoner was rather dissatisfied with the whole thing.
“You have said so little, Nan! Mrs. Mayne will be quite affronted at our reticence.”