Fairly beaten, Eva walked upstairs, hating the work, the house, and everything in general, and Mrs. Meadows, whom she considered forward, in particular.
The next three days were trials in many ways to the doctor's household, himself included. The meals were irregular, the food badly cooked, but the man patiently made allowances, and was silent. It was a break in the monotony of "sweep and cook and wash up" when Sunday arrived and the family went to church. The tiny building was nearly filled, and many eyes were turned on the newcomer. But she noticed no one. The old familiar hymns brought tears to her eyes, and her thoughts stole away from her keeping to the dear land beyond the seas. However, she rallied and joined heartily in the last hymn, her voice ringing out above all others.
When next she saw Mrs. Meadows the conversation turned to church and congregation. After telling her details she thought were interesting, Mrs. Meadows said, "You have a nice voice, Eva, but you mustn't strain it."
Eva's Top Notes
"Do you think I do?" she replied. "I was trained at the Guildhall School, and I suppose my master knew the limits of my voice. He approved of my top notes. Perhaps you don't know what the Guildhall School is, though," she added insolently.
"On the contrary, my father was one of the professors until he died. Don't think that in New Zealand we are quite ignorant of the world, Eva."
The conversation upset the girl sadly. She was vain of her voice and anxious to make the most of it. She went into the kitchen to make a pie, heedless that Jack had found a jar of raisins and was doing his best to empty it as fast as he could, and that Charlie was too quiet to be out of mischief. The paste was made according to her ability, certainly neither light nor digestible, and was ready for the oven, when suddenly a giggle behind her made her turn to behold that wretched boy Charlie dressed in her blue velvet dress, best hat, and parasol.
"You wicked boy, how dare you?" she cried, stamping her foot, but the boy fled, leaving the skirt on the floor. Picking it up, she gave chase to recover the hat, and when at last she returned to her pie, she found that Jack had forestalled her and made cakes for himself out of it and a marble tart for her.
Eva did not trust herself with the boys that morning; she literally hated them. Still, she must master herself before she could master them, and show once and for all that she was able to deal with the situation. Shutting herself into the parlour, she sat quiet, trying to think and plan, but in vain—she could not calm herself.
She took up a book and attempted to read and forget her annoyances in losing herself in the story, but that, too, failed. Her trials were countless. Not sufficient were to be found in the house, but that interfering Mrs. Meadows must criticise her singing.