Polly: A New-Fashioned Girl by L. T. Meade (free ebook reader for iphone .TXT) 📕

little mite, she did, in a touching way,” said Helen; “but she seemed in trouble about something. You know how reserved she is about her feelings, but when she sat on my knee she quite sobbed.”

“I was rather brutal to her,” said Polly, in a nonchalant tone, flinging up the sash of the bed-room window as she spoke, and indulging in a careless whistle.

It was bed-time, but the girls were tempted by the moonlight night to sit up and look out at the still, sweet beauty, and chatter together.

“How could you be unkind to her?” said Helen, in a voice of dismay. “Polly, dear, do shut that window again, or you will have a sore throat. How could you be unkind to poor little Fly, Poll, when she is so devoted to you?”

“The very reason,” said Polly. “She’d never have gone over to you if I hadn’t. I saw rebellion in that young ’un’s eye—that was why I called her out. I was determined to nip it in the bud.”

“But you rebelled yourself?”

“Yes, and I mean to go on rebelling. I am not Fly.”

“Well, Polly,” said Helen, suppressing a heavy sigh on her[Pg 14] own account; “you know I don’t want you a bit to obey me. I am not a mistressing sort of girl, and I like to consult you about things, and I want us both to feel more or less as equals. Still father says there are quite two years between us, and that the scheme cannot be worked at all unless some one is distinctly at the head. He particularly spoke of you, Polly, and said that if you would not agree we must go back to the idea of Miss Jenkins, or that he will let this house for a time, and send us all to school.”

“A worse horror than the other,” said Polly. “I wouldn’t be a school-girl for all you could give me! Why, the robin’s nest might be discovered by some one else, and my grubs and chrysalides would come to perfection without me. No, no; rather than that—can’t we effect a compromise, Nell?”

“What is it?” asked Helen. “You know I am willing to agree to anything. It is father.”

“Oh, yes; poor Nell, you’re the meekest and mildest of mortals. Now, look here, wouldn’t this be fun?”

Polly’s black eyes began to dance.

“You know how fond I always was of housekeeping. Let me housekeep every second week. Give me the money and let me buy every single thing and pay for it, and don’t interfere with me whatever I do. I’ll promise to be as good as gold always, and obey you in every single thing, if only I have this safety-valve. Let me expend myself upon the housekeeping, and I’ll be as good, better than gold. I’ll help you, and be your right hand, Nell; and I’ll obey you in the most public way before all the other girls, and as to Fly, see if I don’t keep her in hand. What do you think of this plan, Nell? I, with my safety-valve, the comfort of your life, a sort of general to keep your forces in order.”

“But you really can’t housekeep, Polly. Of course I’d like to please you, and father said himself you were to help me in the house. But to manage everything—why, it frightens me, and I am two years older.”

“But you have so very little spirit, darling. Now it doesn’t frighten me a bit, and that’s why I’m so certain I shall succeed splendidly. Look here, Nell, let me speak to father, myself; if he says ‘yes,’ you won’t object, will you?”

“Of course not,” said Helen.

“You are a darling—I’ll soon bring father round. Now, shall we go to bed?—I am so sleepy.”

The next morning at breakfast Polly electrified her brothers and sisters by the very meek way in which she appealed to Helen on all occasions.

“Do you think, Nell, that I ought to have any more of this marmalade on fresh bread? I ate half a pot yesterday on three or four slices of hot bread from the oven, and felt quite a dizzy stupid feeling in my head afterwards.”

“Of course, how could you expect it to agree with you, Polly?” said Helen, looking up innocently from her place at the tea-tray.[Pg 15]

“Had better have a little of this stale bread-and-butter then, dear?” proceeded Polly in a would-be anxious tone.

“Yes, if you will, dear. But you never like stale bread-and-butter.”

“I’ll eat it if you wish me to, Helen,” answered Polly, in a very meek, good little voice.

The two boys began to chuckle, and even Dr. Maybright looked at his second daughter in a puzzled, abstracted way. Helen, too, colored slightly, and wondered what Polly meant. But the young lady herself munched her stale bread with the most immovable of faces, and even held up the slice for Helen to scrutinize, with the gentle, good little remark—“Have I put too much butter on it, Nell? It isn’t right to waste nice good butter, is it?”

“Oh, Polly, how dreadful you are?” said Fly.

“What do you mean?” said Polly, fiercely.

She dropped her meek manners, gave one quick glare at the small speaker, and then half turning her back on her, said in the gentlest of voices, “What would you like me to do this morning, Helen? Shall I look over my history lesson for an hour, and then practise scales on the piano?”

“You may do just as you please, as far as I am concerned,” replied Helen, who felt that this sort of obedience was far worse for the others than open rebellion. “I thought you wanted to see father, Polly. He has just gone into his study, and perhaps he will give you ten minutes, if you go to him at once.”

This speech of Helen’s caused Polly to forget her role of the meek, obedient martyr. Her brow cleared.

“Thank you for reminding me, Nell,” she said, in her natural voice, and for a moment later she was knocking at the Doctor’s study door.

“Come in,” he said. And when the untidy head and somewhat neglected person of his second daughter appeared, Dr. Maybright walked towards her.

“I am going out, Polly, do you want me?” he said.

“Yes, it won’t take a minute,” said Polly, eagerly. “May I housekeep every second week instead of Nell? Will you give me the money instead of her, and let me pay for everything, and buy the food. I am awfully interested in eggs and butter, and I’ll give you splendid puddings and cakes. Please say yes, father—Nell is quite willing, if you are.”

“How old are you, Polly?” said Dr. Maybright.

He put his hand under Polly’s chin and raised her childish face to scrutinize it closely.

“What matter about my age,” she replied; “I’m fourteen in body—I’m twenty in mind—and as to housekeeping, I’m thirty, if not forty.”

“That head looks very like thirty, if not forty,” responded the Doctor significantly. “And that dress,” glancing at where the hem was torn, and where the body gaped open for want of sufficient hooks, “looks just the costume I should recommend for the matron of a large establishment. Do you know what it means to housekeep for this family, Polly?”

“Buy the bread and butter, and the meat, and the poultry, and the tea, and the sugar, and the citron, and raisins, and allspice, and nutmegs, and currants, and flour, and brick-bat, and hearthstone, and—and——”

Dr. Maybright put his fingers to his ears. “Spare me any more,” said he, “I never ask for items. There are in this house, Polly, nine children, myself, and four servants. That makes in all fourteen people. These people have to be fed and clothed, and some of them have to be paid wages too; they have to be warmed, they have to be kept clean, in short, all their comforts of body have to be attended to; one of them requires one thing, one quite another. For instance, the dinner which would be admirably suited to you would kill baby, and might not be best for Firefly, who is not strong, and has to be dieted in a particular way. I make it a rule that servants’ wages and all articles consumed in the house are paid for weekly. Whoever housekeeps for me has to undertake all this, and has to make a certain sum of money cover a certain expenditure. Now do you think, Polly—do you honestly think—that you, an ignorant little girl of fourteen, a very untidy and childish little girl, can undertake this onerous post? I ask you to answer me quite honestly—if you undertake it, are you in the least likely to succeed?”

“Oh, father, I know you mean to crush me when you speak like that; but you know you told Helen that you would like her to try to manage the housekeeping.”

“I did—and, as I know you are fond of domestic things, I meant you to help her a little. Helen is two years older than you, and—not the least like you, Polly.”

Polly tossed her head.

“I know that,” she said. “Helen takes twice as long learning her lessons. Try my French beside hers, father; or my German, or my music.”

“Or your forbearance—or your neatness,” added the Doctor.

Here he sighed deeply.

“I miss your mother, Polly,” he said. “And poor, poor child! so do you. There, I can’t waste another minute of my time with you now. Come to my study this evening at nine, and we will discuss the matter further.”