"Well, it's a pity I worried Ma for them at all," May remarked with her usual placid air of disgust. "Perhaps, though, you'll think differently after lunch. Come down, and pray don't look like that! Pa's at home."

CHAPTER IX

AN ASTUTE TELL-PIE

But not even the presence of Mr. Stubbs, who was held in great awe by his sons and daughters, and was most emphatically what is known as "master in his own house," was sufficient to restore the redoubtable Flossie to her usual careless, happy-go-lucky, giggling sauciness.

She went down and took her seat at table, speaking only when spoken to, but nevertheless contriving to eat an uncommonly good meal. And Tom entertained her with an account of his excursion to the Dials; and although Flossie had spent the last three hours in a pa.s.sion of jealousy, envy, and unhappiness too great for alleviation, even when it came in the shape of caramels, nougat, and fondants, yet she could not resist the temptation of hearing all that Tom had to say, and of arranging to go round to the stables with him to see his new pets when lunch should be over.

And presently she was graciously pleased to accept the caramels and nougat and the fondants. But for some hours she did not forgive Sarah--"Princess Sarah" she unceasingly called her, although solemnly warned by May that "Ma" had already heard of the name, and that if "Pa"

heard it the consequences would indeed be dreadful.

"Ah, I suppose Miss Tell-pie has been making up to Ma this morning!"

suggested Flossie, with a frightful sneer.

"Nothing of the kind!" returned May quickly, but in her most condescending tone; "it was quite another person. Sarah has never said a word, not even when she was asked. But, any way, Ma did hear it, and she's very angry about it. And Ma says if Pa gets to know about it he'll be fearfully angry, for Sarah's ma was his favourite sister. And so you'd better just mind what you're doing, Miss Flossie!"

"I do hate that Miss Clark!" Flossie remarked.

"Miss Clark!" exclaimed May. "Why, whatever for?"

"Nasty, mean, spiteful tell-pie!" Flossie explained.

"It _wasn't_ Miss Clark. I tell you Ma got to hear about it."

"Who was it then?"

"Ah, that I can't tell you; but, any way, Ma got to hear of it, and she told me to put a stop to it, and so you'd better be careful, that's all."

And never for a moment did Flossie suspect that some blades are so sharp that they can cut two ways, and that her informant was quite as clever at carrying tales to one side as to the other. Ah! but blundering, boisterous Flossie was not nearly so astute as Mrs. Stubbs's right hand--May.

When they had come from Bridgehampton Mrs. Stubbs had only brought her own box and one which contained Sarah's modest wardrobe with them. Her father's pictures and the precious Amati, with one or two bits of old carved oak, a chair, a table, a little chest, and a stool, with one or two bits of armour and a few pieces of very good china, were all packed and sent off by goods train.

They arrived that afternoon, and Mrs. Stubbs had them all unpacked, and declared her intention of putting them into the little bedroom which, after they came back from Brighton, should be Sarah's own.

"They're lovely things, and belong to the child herself, and it's right she should have them kept for 'er, you know, Stubbs."

"Quite right, quite right," returned Mr. Stubbs promptly, and turning to see the effect of his wife's consideration on Sarah, whose character he was studying earnestly and diligently for the purpose of finding out whether any taint of what he called her "fine gentleman father" was about her.

But Sarah was quite oblivious. She had got hold of her beloved violin, from which she had never been parted before in all her life, and was dusting it jealously with her little pocket-handkerchief.

Mrs. Stubbs saw the look and understood it

"The child didn't 'ear," she explained; and having attracted Sarah's attention, told her what her plans were for her future comfort. "You'll like that, won't you?" she ended.

Sarah's reply was as astounding as it was prompt. "Oh, no, dear Auntie, not at all," she said earnestly.

"And why not?" Mrs. Stubbs inquired, while her husband stared as if he thought the world might be coming to an end.

"Why, Auntie, didn't you say your own self how beautiful they were, and how well they would set off a hall? I'd much rather you'd put them downstairs than in a bedroom, for you would see them every time you went in and out, and that _would_ please me."

"There's unselfishness for you!" Mrs. Stubbs cried.

"No, Auntie. I don't think it is," said Sarah in her sweet, humble voice. "It's nothing so grand as unselfishness; it's just because I love you."

"Kiss me, my woman," cried Mrs. Stubbs with rapture.

"And come and kiss _me_," said Mr. Stubbs. "You're a good girl, Sarah, your mother's own daughter. She was right, my la.s.s, to stick to the husband she loved and married, though I never thought so till this moment."

"Oh, Uncle!" Sarah gasped, for to hear him speak so of the mother she had never seen, but whom she had been taught to love from her babyhood, was joy almost greater than her child's heart could bear.

"There, there! If aught goes wrong, come to me," Mr. Stubbs murmured.

"And if you always speak to your aunt as you've done to-day, I shall think your pore father must have been a fine fellow, or you'd never be what you are."

Oh, Sarah was so happy! After all, what could, what _did_ it matter if Flossie and Tom did call her Princess Sarah of Nowhere? Why, just nothing at all--nothing at all.

"Uncle," she said, after a moment or two, "may I play you something on my violin?"

"Yes," he answered.

"That," remarked Mrs. Stubbs, as Sarah opened the piano and began to tune up in a way which made her uncle open his eyes with astonishment, "is the fiddle Sarah says is worth five hundred pounds."

"Like enough. Some of 'em are," he answered.

And then Sarah played a German _lied_ and a Hungarian dance; then "Home, Sweet Home."

"Well," said Mrs. Stubbs, looking at him, when she ceased, "what do you think of it?"

"I think she's--a genius," answered Mr. Stubbs.

CHAPTER X

A PLEASANT RAILWAY JOURNEY

On the Thursday following the whole Stubbs family went to Brighton.

Sarah enjoyed the journey intensely, journeys being still almost a novelty with her. She would have enjoyed it more if May had not grumbled at going second-cla.s.s, and if Flossie and Tom had not vied with one another in trying how far they could lean out of either window of the carriage. Poor Miss Clark was almost beside herself with fright.

"Tom, put your head in immediately," she cried in desperation, and expecting every moment to see the door fly open and Tom shoot out headlong, to be picked up a mangled corpse or in actual fragments. "Tom, do you hear me? Tom, I insist upon it."

But if Miss Clark had shouted till she had killed herself with shouting, Tom, leaning half his body out of the window, with the wind whistling in his ears and the roar and rattle of the engine and wheels all helping to deaden any such small sounds as that of a human voice, and that the voice of a weak and rather helpless woman, could not have heard her, and Miss Clark had no choice but, with May's help, to tug Tom in by the nether part of his garments. This done, she pulled up the window with a jerk.