Chapter VIII: Covering the Jam

When Fred entered the luncheon-room a few minutes after the gong had sounded, with bright face, easy manner, and a general air of satisfaction, Kathleen and Harry could scarcely believe the testimony of their eyes; and when further, in reply to a question of their aunt, he undertook to marshal the whole bevy of jam-coverers to the housekeeper's room as soon as luncheon should be ended, their amazement almost amounted to disbelief, and many glances, expressive of surprise and curiosity, were exchanged between them, with mutual elevations of the eyebrows, to explain that neither party was in the secret of this great and unlooked-for change.

"I say," said Harry, getting close to his brother as they went out into the passage preparatory to going downstairs, "have you done it after all? I guess you have; and if so, you're no end of a brick."

"Done what?" said Fred testily, as he pushed Harry aside with his elbow; "of course I haven't; but it's all as right as a trivet, and aunt and I are the best of friends."

"Then you have told her?"

"Do be quiet, will you, Harry? and not call every one's attention to me and my affairs. I tell you I have done nothing of the kind, and don't intend either. Aunt Marian has been awfully good-natured to me, and she says it's all right; and I suppose if she says so, you need not trouble yourself about it."

Harry was hustled away from his brother's side and his hopes and fears made light of; but still, though Fred said he need not trouble himself about the matter, he could not help doing so. He drew Kathleen aside into the shadow of the coal-vault, and there they stood and argued the whole question backwards and forwards in timid whispers and in much anxiety on Fred's account, as they both felt the whole thing would come to light some day or other, and that then his case would be even more desperate than it seemed now; and besides, Kathleen could not imagine Fred looking so happy and buoyant if he still had the heavy weight of deception and guilt hanging round his neck.

"I do believe he has brought himself to think that he has done nothing either wrong or shabby, else he could never look so sprag," said Harry with a parting sigh; "and I'm afraid there ain't much use in our trying to undeceive him. He only gets into awful waxes when I go in at him, and says even worse things than he feels. What do you think, Katy?"

"I think--I hope," she whispered, "that when we go home he will tell mamma all about it, and she will be able to speak to him so much better than we can; and besides, she can explain everything to Aunt Marian, and perhaps things may come right in the end."

"Well, we must just hope so," said Harry; "but I can't bear to see Aunt Marian imposed on. I see perfectly well, by all she says and does, that she thinks she has accused Fred unjustly; and it's awfully shabby of him to act up to it. Not but that I might do the same myself if I were in his place," he added humbly. "But I say, Katy, there are rats in this cellar. I hear something rustling in the corner. Oh, I see something white; let's cut and run;" and in another moment, with somewhat grimy hands and white faces, the two children took their places at the long deal table where the process of covering the jam had already begun.

Fred was seated at the head of the table, busily engaged in dispensing paper, gum, and innumerable pairs of scissors to his subs; and not a lingering cloud of trouble seemed to overshadow his good-humoured affability. When he chose to be amusing and pleasant, there was no one who could make himself more generally agreeable; and "Bravo, Fred!" "That's a good fellow, Fred!" might be heard at intervals from various admirers round the table as he laid down some maxims couched in the most absurd language, or made some buffoonish grimace. And thus the afternoon wore on in the most peaceful and perfect harmony; and whenever Aunt Marian looked in on her guests, she saw with genuine delight all the heads busily bent over their work, and heard the peals of laughter at each fresh pun or joke perpetrated by one of the company.

"I say, Harry," she said, kindly laying her hand on her nephew's shoulder, "what's gone wrong with you this evening? I see all the rest laughing and as merry a& crickets, but I don't think you and Kathleen have smiled once. You are not ill, are you?"

"Oh no, thank you, aunt, I am quite well. It's awfully jolly work this jam-covering, and I like it awfully; really I do."

Poor Harry's confusion was evident to the whole table, and Aunt Marian good-naturedly desisted from asking any further question.

"When the jam is all covered, I must ask for your assistance in putting it by," she said presently, addressing the assembled company; "some of the shelves are too high for me to reach up to, and besides I think you would like to see my store-room, which I consider is one of the most comfortable rooms in the house."

Of course, the boys and girls around the table were loud in their acquiescence, and the snipping and snapping of the various pairs of scissors seemed to proceed even more rapidly than before.

"I say, what a regiment of jam pots that brother of yours has managed to cover with all his tomfoolery and joking. I never saw such a fellow for being first in at everything," said young Maurice Brinsley, looking across the table at Fred, whose row of neatly covered preserves certainly seemed more numerous than any of the others. "He won the prize for the jam-picking, and now he's going to bag this one as well. How does he manage it, I wonder?"

"I am sure I don't know," replied Harry, not raising his head from his own work; "I have been so busy looking after my own affairs, I never saw how fast he had got on."

"I can't imagine how he managed to get his can filled so quickly yesterday," continued Maurice innocently, "for he and I went in for a grub of black currants that lasted till we were both fairly done; and though I picked hard for the rest of the time, I had not half filled my can, so I could scarcely believe my eyes or my ears when I saw his tin handed in, and afterwards heard he had got first prize."

"But he did not get first prize," replied Harry, forgetting for the moment what might be the result of his confidence. "It was Kathleen who really won it; for--for there was a mistake somewhere, but Aunt Marian set it all right afterwards."

"How! a mistake! I don't quite understand."

"Oh, nothing; it was only some stones which Fred had put at the bottom of his can to keep the leaves down. At least, that's to say, there were some stones, and of course that made his can weigh heavier than hers."

"You don't mean to say that Fred put stones into his can after all?"

"Why 'after all'?" asked Harry open-mouthed.

"Why, because when he and I were grubbing at the currants, I said for fun, 'What a lark it would be to fill one's can with stones and put only a layer of fruit at the top, and then to see mother's face of surprise when she came to weigh the fruit;' but--"

"Then he did think she would weigh it?" said Harry again, speaking more in accordance with his own thoughts than with the prudence his brother might have expected from him.

"Of course we knew she would have to weigh the cans, or at least, we felt more or less certain of it. But I say, Harry," here Maurice sunk his voice suddenly to a whisper, "Fred's got his eyes fixed on us, and he don't seem to like our conversation."

"Pooh! who cares?" replied Harry hotly. But for all that he went on with his work, and after this a general lack of conversation seemed to fall over all the company, Fred setting them the example by a stony and somewhat sullen silence.

"I expect you'll catch it by-and-by," whispered Maurice into Harry's ear.

"Of course you'll not repeat anything I have said to you?" replied Harry nervously. He was beginning to think he had perhaps inculpated his brother, and yet he possessed no certainty of his guilt.

"I! of course not; it would only drag you into a row, and do no good;--but I must say, if he did put stones in his can after all the talk we had about it, it was a howling shame, and no mistake."

When the first gong sounded and the time for dressing for dinner had arrived, Aunt Marian entered the housekeeper's room to adjudge the prize; and again on this occasion, without any doubt or even loophole for suspicion, Fred's quick and neat fingers had gained the day. He had covered a round dozen more than any of the others, with five minutes allowed to him for dispensing the necessary materials; and this time the prize was a box containing a complete set of lawn-tennis, all beautifully packed into different compartments, and the whole case of a portable size, and fitted with a good lock and key.

Fred was more than satisfied with his aunt's choice. He had wished every day since he came to Jubilee Hall that they had lawn-tennis at The Cedars; and he had even planned in his own mind whereabouts the game could be best played, and the shady spots where garden-seats could be placed for lookers on; and now his aunt had forestalled his wishes, and when he went home he would be able to set it up at once, and have capital games in the autumn. He thanked his Aunt Marian again and again in the most grateful and enthusiastic manner, and not a few of the company envied him the possession of such a prize.