Just when she was closing this letter Camilla took out the paper again and wrote a postscript.

"Violet Lancing scratched to some purpose the other day! I have had a letter from the old man _commanding_ me to take the children to spend Christmas with him. I have not answered him, but I mean to tell him to go to ..."--she made a great dash--"church on Christmas morning," she finished. "As I am promised to you, I cannot go to the Lancings, can I?" she wrote underneath.

Caroline was far too busy in these the first days of new occupation to give much heed to the fact that Rupert Haverford had sent no answer to the letter she had written to him.

Naturally the life was not so golden-hued in these after days as it had seemed that first day.

She found the children, if not exactly spoilt, certainly not trained as they should have been trained.

With the elder one, indeed, a good many difficulties threatened, but Caroline was resolved to find nothing too hard or difficult, and her long experience of school discipline came into splendid prominence now.

Her starting task was to try and put a little organization into the life of the nursery.

She did not mind what she did herself to bring about some method to regulate the hours, but she quickly let the servants know that they must meet her halfway.

She found it necessary to change any number of accepted habits. When she learned how irregular had been the nursery arrangements, she marvelled that her little charges were so healthy or so tractable.

Dennis gave her great a.s.sistance.

"You keep things down, my dear. Don't you be afraid of having your own way. The mistress won't interfere. She trusts every one. That's why she gets done so often."

Another time Dennis introduces the question of expense.

"The way money is just thrown away in this house! ... There's not a one, barrin' myself, to give a thought to the one as has to pay. Why, many's the time I've seen nurse pitch away a bottle of special milk what couldn't be used; and d'ye think that stopped her in the orderin'?

Not it!"

That there had been waste and extravagance to an almost criminal degree Caroline had quickly discovered for herself. Dennis had told her that the children possessed more feathers and frills, more lace frocks than any other two children in the United Kingdom, and this was no exaggeration. In all things that were practical and necessary, however, they were as shabby and as ragged as any little beggar in the street.

Every night Caroline devoted herself to overlooking the children's wardrobe.

She mended what could be mended, and arranged all as far as she could, but she could not spin stockings or weave warm under garments out of thin air.

For a day or two the girl hesitated as to whether she should approach Mrs. Lancing on this subject. She was really unwilling to do so, but finally decided it was better that she should go straight to the point in this and in all other matters connected with the children and her care of them.

And so one evening, as Camilla was dressing for an early dinner engagement, there came a knock at her door, and Dennis asked if she would see Miss Graniger.

Mrs. Lancing was sitting in front of her looking-gla.s.s, her short, wavy hair was loose on her shoulders.

At sight of Caroline she took alarm, and, turning round, waved her hair-brush protestingly.

"Don't tell me that you have come to give me notice," she said forcibly, "because I won't take it!"

Caroline laughed.

"I am still marvelling at my good fortune at being with you," she said.

She looked admiringly at Camilla. How pretty! how very pretty this woman was! Each time that she saw Mrs. Lancing she seemed to see her in a more attractive way.

Now, in her white flowing gown, with her curly hair falling about her face, she looked hardly older than little Betty herself.

There was an unconscious wistfulness in Camilla Lancing's eyes that waked a strong rush of tenderness and protective affection in Caroline's heart whenever she looked into them.

Brief as had been her stay in the house, she had been long enough to know from other sources than Dennis's confidences that trouble stalked side by side with the gaiety; long enough to have grasped with that intuition which was one of her strongest gifts that this charming, childlike, happy-go-lucky mistress of the house would always buy her sunshine very dearly, with a heavy shadow threatening it.

Camilla heaved a sigh of relief.

"I breathe again," she said; "sit down and let me look at you. Well, you are better, I think; you have a nice little bit of colour, but you must get much, much fatter. Are the chickies asleep? Dear child, I must congratulate you! You are a marvellous person. We have never had such peace in the house as we have had since you have been here--have we, Dennis? And you are such a child yourself! How is this sort of thing done? I suppose it comes naturally to you."

"I am so glad you are satisfied with me," Caroline said. She sat down and looked about her curiously, and yet with pleasure. The dainty appointments, the rosebud chintz, the lace-covered bed, upon which was spread the gown Mrs. Lancing was going to wear, the crystal-topped toilet table with its burden of brushes, and jars, and scent-bottles, and nicknacks, the cosy chairs, the soft carpet, all made a picture of prettiness, luxury, and comfort such as had not even visioned itself in her imagination, busy as that had been at times. Portraits of the children abounded, and in the middle of the mantelshelf Caroline noticed a large cabinet photograph of Edward Lancing. The children had a smaller one like it in the nursery.

Betty kissed it every night after she had said her prayers, and Baby, of course, always clamoured for daddy's picture to do the same thing.

Although, as Betty said frequently, "You never knowed him, so he isn't properly your daddy."

Caroline brought her wandering attention to order sharply.

"I have come to bother you," she said.

Dennis had begun to comb out the brown curls and arrange them in a loose and a graceful manner, fastening them here and there with a sparkling pin.

"I have brought a list of the things that the children want."

"Do they want anything? They had new coats and hats the day you came,"

said Mrs. Lancing.

She took the paper that Caroline handed her, and read it aloud.

"Stockings, nightgowns, flannels, shoes. Dear child! of course they shall have these things. But are they so badly off?"

Caroline nodded her head.

"Yes; I have put everything together for you to see," she said. "I have only written down what is absolutely necessary."

"Now, isn't that shocking, Dennis?" said Camilla, with a note of desperation in her voice. "Doesn't it make you want to _shake_ nurse?

... What did she do with the things? She must have eaten them."

"I've gone carefully through every drawer and every box," said Caroline, "and I cannot find any good clothes put away."

"Let me think." Mrs. Lancing sat and puckered her brows. Dennis had put on an expression that said as plainly as words that these things would have been set right a long time ago if only she had been given the authority to attend to them.

"You had better go to ... No!" said Camilla, checking herself without mentioning the name, "you can't go there. I owe them quite a lot already, and that other shop in Regent Street, they, too, are rather nasty about their bill. I'll tell you what, I will give you some ready money, and then you had better go and buy just what is actually required. What do you suppose these will all come to? Dennis, you are good at this sort of thing, you might help Miss Graniger. Dear sweethearts, fancy not having a stocking, or a decent petticoat." She caught her breath with a sigh. "I am afraid I am not a very good mother."

"I'm sure you pay enough, ma'am," said Dennis. "Why, the money has just been poured out for the nursery this last year."

"Well, money is not everything, we all know that," her mistress said, as she took up her hand-gla.s.s and looked at the back of her head critically.

Caroline for herself proposed a second time that Mrs. Lancing should see how matters stood, but Mrs. Lancing refused.

"No, no," she said; "I don't want to see for myself. Do you think I doubt you? I know only too well you have not exaggerated a single thing."

Here the sound of a cab stopping reached her ears.