Chapter V: A Creature of Impulse

"THEY are coming," exclaimed Sheila as she glanced quickly over the letter in her hand.

The sun was shining into the breakfast room at Friars Court through the open windows. It was a long low room with beams across the ceiling, and panelled walls; and there was no nicer room in the house on a sunny morning. The French windows were wide open and from them could be seen the trees in the Park beyond the garden, and the hills in the background.

Sheila stood reading her letter with the morning sun shining on her pretty hair.

"Who are coming?" questioned Miss Gregson, as the girl looked up at her with a pleased smile.

"My six children. I read in some paper that there were hundreds of poor children in want of a change into the country from the very poorest of poor homes in London, and I wrote at once to enquire about them. The Society is so grateful and is sending down six on Monday. I am to have them for a fortnight. I only hope the weather will last for that time. Just fancy! A house full of children. Won't it be fun?"

"What a nice idea," said Miss Gregson. "When did you think of it?" Her mind flew to all the difficulties of the plan, but she was so pleased that Sheila should have thought of putting joy into the heart of six little children that she was determined to say nothing to discourage her.

"I only thought of it yesterday, and wired to the Society telling them to write by last night's post. I always believe in acting at once. Don't you?"

"I suppose they will send someone with the children to look after them," said Miss Gregson.

"No, that will be the fun. I mean to do everything for them myself, bathing them and putting them to bed included. If you do a thing at all I believe in doing it thoroughly. It would quite spoil it if there was a worker sent down with them."

Miss Gregson's heart sank. She knew how it would end. Sheila would be tired of them before the first week was out.

"Where are you going to put them? Is there not a large empty room which you could fit up with beds?"

"Yes. But I mean to give them the very best of everything. The girls I shall put in the West room, which I have just had papered with the rose pattern. It looks out on the rose garden you remember, and the boys shall be in the East gallery. There are several beds in the attics which can be brought down for them. You see I have thought it all out, Angel dear."

Sheila was now pouring out the coffee, and Miss Gregson had gone to the sideboard. She was aghast at the girl's arrangements, but she gave herself time to think over what to say by asking—

"Eggs and bacon or fish, my dear?"

"Is there nothing else? Jane is getting lazy. She gives us the same dishes every day. I'll have fish I think." Then she added, "I don't think I have looked forward to anything so much in my life. I shall tell Peter. He will be astonished that I have thought of anything so nice and useful."

She rose from the table as she spoke to fetch the fish Miss Gregson was helping, and put her arm round her chaperon impulsively.

"How glad I am that you are not a prude like that horrid old woman that came when you left me to go to your mother. She would very much have disapproved of my plan and would have placed all kinds of damping difficulties in its way. But I know you'll be just as interested in those children as I am, and won't mind a little noise in the house. I mean to give them such a good time. I'm desperately hungry," she added, as she took her seat at the table again. "It's the excitement."

"I think if I were you," mildly suggested Miss Gregson, "that I would have that long room furnished for them rather than the West room that you have just done up. You know they will be coming from very dirty homes and it will be scarcely fair to your visitors who come after them."

"The visitors must put up with that," answered Sheila calmly. "Of course the room will be thoroughly turned out and scrubbed when the children have gone; and just think what it will be to them to wake up in the morning and find themselves surrounded with roses! Roses nodding in at the window at them and roses on the walls. Oh, Angel dear, I do bless my Uncle for leaving me this place, and plenty of money with which to enjoy it. I had no idea how nice it would be."

Miss Gregson looked at the happy flushed face of her companion. How could she damp her enthusiasm by bringing forward its many drawbacks. The girl was full of delightful impulses, if only they would grow into good actions and last at least for a while.

"My dear, I think the plan is charming; and with a little forethought it may be made to work well, but it will need a lot of planning."

"Planning! forethought!" exclaimed Sheila impatiently, "I have planned everything I assure you. They are to come by the two o'clock train on Monday."

"Someone of course will bring them," said Miss Gregson. "I suppose she will at least stay the night?"

"No one will bring them. They are to be put under charge of the guard, and to come by a fast train that does not stop anywhere. I felt it would be so much better, you see, for them to have to depend upon me at once rather than on someone they know."

Miss Gregson sighed, and found before the first day of the visit was over that her sighs were justified. She was so exhausted after two or three hours of the company of the children, that she took the opportunity of slipping away to have a few minutes rest on the drawing-room sofa.

It was too late to expect callers, but nevertheless her sleep was disturbed by the entrance of an elderly cousin of Sheila's who came in and out of the house as he liked, and was welcomed wherever he went, as his life was spent in doing kindnesses. If anyone was in trouble, or in difficulties it was always Peter Fortescue who came to the rescue, and with his kind and fatherly manner and comforting smile inspired confidence. To Sheila he was father and brother in one, and she really leaned on his advice, though she was of such an independent nature that she would have confessed this to no one. Sheila amused Peter, but at the same time he more often shook his head over her vagaries, and never hesitated to tell her the truth. He sympathised greatly with Miss Gregson and pitied her.

Although he had disturbed her needed sleep the latter was thankful to see him.

"Where is Sheila?" he asked after shaking hands.

"In the garden. She has six poor little children from London for a fortnight! And with no one but ourselves to look after them. We have had a terrible afternoon, Mr. Fortescue."

Miss Gregson was flushed and tired.

"You look dead beat! An influx of six children to amuse and control is no laughing matter. I suppose they are difficult to manage?"

"They were almost dumb with wonder the first hour, but unhappily this soon wore off. They do not know the meaning of obedience. When I said it was time to go to bed they rebelled. They wanted to see the horses again, they said, and nothing would quiet them but to take them to the stables. How we are to survive a fortnight of this kind of thing I can't think."

"What are they doing now?"

"Sheila is telling them a story in the summer house, hoping to quiet them."

Peter rose.

"I'll go and find these rebels," he said smiling. "I wish my dear little cousin would ask my advice before she undertakes this kind of thing. But," he added with a laugh, "she is not fond of advice from me or anyone, else! I don't suppose she asked yours, did she?"

"Oh dear, no! That is the last thing she would do. She is a girl of such noble impulses, it is a pity that she acts on them without counting the cost."

"I daresay at this present moment she is enjoying it all hugely."

"She is perfectly happy; and you'll find her radiant. But to-morrow! Well there is no use looking forward, is there?"

"None whatever. I'll go and see how things are going."

Mr. Fortescue found the little party in the summer house and stood watching without being seen for a few minutes. Sheila was surrounded with the six children, who sat on the floor at her feet. Both Sheila and her audience were so engrossed that they did not notice Peter's approach.

Though he utterly disapproved of the plan, he could not help thinking what a pretty picture it made, and had Sheila been a girl who was ready to take the consequences of her own actions, and would persevere to the end, Mr. Fortescue could not think of a happier way in which to spend some of her large fortune, than to bring happiness into the lives of the poor little children that were listening to her story so attentively. But alas! her cousin knew Sheila too well to hope for a moment that Sheila would do her duty to them. The work would of course devolve on the poor tired woman on the drawing-room sofa.

Suddenly a small boy caught sight of the intruder.

He rose and made a dash at him and tried to kick him.

"Go away," he cried, "we don't want you."

Peter took hold of his arm and made him face him.

"You are a nice young man to behave like this," he said with a laugh. "You'll have to learn manners while you are here."

"Tommy, what do you mean by kicking that gentleman," remonstrated Sheila. "Sit down and be a good boy."

Tommy put out his tongue at her.

The girl flushed.

"You must all go to bed," she said. "And oh, Peter, do go, there's a dear. They were as good as gold till you came."

He turned away with a laugh, and made his way to the drawing-room to talk over the matter again with Miss Gregson, and to assure her that he was ready to help if needed, reminding her that as he lived only a few minutes' walk from the Park gates he could easily come at any moment of the day or night. He laughed as he said this, but poor Miss Gregson could only sigh at the possible prospect of things coming to such a pass that they would have to send for him at night!

Soon the sound of hurrying feet were heard and Sheila flew into the room demanding the help of Miss Gregson.

"You simply must come," she said catching hold of her arm. "They are all in rebellion and the smallest girl is crying for her mother. That wretched little Tommy is slaughtering all the dahlia heads with Peter's stick which he left behind him."

Miss Gregson looked appealingly at Peter.

"Can I be of any service?" he asked.

"I'm afraid you'll only make them worse," answered Sheila. "It would be better for Miss Gregson to come as they know her."

Peter therefore stood by the door opening into the garden, so as to be ready for any emergency. He was thoroughly amused, and wondered how poor frail Miss Gregson would be able to get the refractory children to bed.

He had not to wait long before he heard footsteps, and caught sight of Miss Gregson, very red in the face, with a kicking child in her arms. In a moment Peter was by her side.

"Come, my boy, none of this nonsense," he said, signing to Miss Gregson to put him down. "A man never kicks a lady? You want to be a man don't you?"

Peter's voice was stern, and the child somewhat awed left off screaming, and stood with his fingers in his mouth surveying him.

Mr. Fortescue returned the look gravely and silently. There is nothing much more powerful than the human eye to quell rebellion in the young. The child suddenly hid his face in Miss Gregson's skirts.

"Now," said Peter quietly, "you will go to bed at once like a good boy. Good-night." Jemmy followed Miss Gregson closely, tripping up in her dress. The quiet voice and grave eyes had done their work, and Miss Gregson and the housemaid between them undressed and bathed the child without any more trouble, and Jemmy for the first time in his life lying between lovely white sheets, soon fell asleep.