A Little Mother to the Others, L. T. Meade [readict .txt] 📗

too," answered Diana. "I could eat a whole loaf, that I could."

"Hush!" whispered Orion; "somebody's coming. Oh, come close to me, Diana!"

"Now, you isn't to be fwightened, little boy," said Diana. "I is near you, and I isn't fwightened of nobody."

At that moment the door was flung open, and Mother Rodesia, accompanied by a tall, dark man, with a scowling face, came in.

"Mornin', little dears," said Mother Rodesia. "Now I have got something to say to you."

"P'ease, where's Wectory?" asked Diana.

"You are not going there just for the present, my dear. This man, Ben is his name—you told me last night that you were fond of uncles—you can call 'im Uncle Ben; he's very kind and very, very fond of children."

"Oh, yes! I'm very fond of children," said the man. He spoke in a gruff voice which seemed to come right from the bottom of his chest.

"And as you don't like aunts," continued Mother Rodesia, "I have brought an uncle. You can call[174] 'im Uncle Ben; and if you do just what he says, why, you'll be as happy as the day is long."

"Look here," said the man; "you stop your talk, Rodesia. Before I makes myself an uncle to these kids I must see what sort they are. You stand up along here, little gal, and let me examine you."

Diana scrambled instantly to her feet and went straight up to the man. She gave him a keen glance from her piercing black eyes.

"What wight has you to speak to me in that sort of style?" she said. "You isn't my uncle, and I isn't going to have nothing to do with you."

"There," said Mother Rodesia; "did I say one word too much for her?"

The man burst into a loud laugh.

"No, that you didn't," he said; "and aint you frightened of me, missy?"

"Fwightened?" replied Diana; "that aren't me." She turned her back and strode back to Orion.

"'Member you is a giant," she said, in a whisper; "and giants never is fwightened."

The man laughed again.

"Well, they are a queer little pair," he said. "I tell you what it is, Rodesia Lee; I'll give you a pund apiece for 'em. Come, now; not a penny more."

Diana stared very hard indeed when these words were uttered. She had not the faintest idea what a "pund apiece" meant. Mother Rodesia seemed to consider.

"And you may think yourself in rare luck," continued the man; "for, remember, if it is known—" Here he walked to the farthest end of the room, and Mother Rodesia followed him.

"You had best close up the bargain and be quick[175] about it," he said; "for not one penny more will you drag out of me. I'll give you a gold sov. for each of 'em, and that's as much as I can manage. They will take a sight of training, and then there's the risk."

"Very well," said Mother Rodesia, "I suppose I had best do it; only they are worth more. There's a fortune in that little gal, and whenever you are tired of her, why, there's a rich father to fall back on. I spect he would give a sight of money to have her back again. Very well, we'll agree; only, if ever you do get a fortune out of that child, Ben Holt, you might remember poor Rodesia Lee."

The man laughed and patted Mother Rodesia on her shoulder. Then the pair left the room, locking the door behind them.

"What does it all mean?" said Orion.

"I don't know," said Diana; "but I aren't fwightened; that aren't me." Her little voice shook as she spoke, and she had great difficulty in keeping the tears back from her big, black eyes.

[176]

CHAPTER XVII. GREASED LIGHTNING.

At the end of half an hour the door of the small room was again unlocked, and a woman with a thin, pale face, and somewhat frightened manner, appeared. She carried a tray in her hand, which contained two little bowls of porridge, and a small jug of milk. "So you are the two young 'uns," she said. "Well, you had best be quick and eat up your breakfast. Uncle Ben is going to have a rehearsal, and he wants you to see what they are all doing."

"We hasn't got no Uncle Ben," said Diana; "don't be silly, woman. What's your name?" she added.

"I'm generally called Aunt Sarah," was the reply; "and now, look here, you two little mites; I'll be good to you if you'll let me. I'm real sorry you has come, and it's against my wish, you remember that. Now, eat up your breakfasts, both of you. Uncle Ben, he don't know that I have brought you porridge and milk; but children as young as you are can't eat coarse food. Sup up your porridge, my dears."

"Thank you very much indeed, Aunt Sawah," said Diana, slipping down from her seat close to Orion on the bench, and preparing to attack her breakfast. "P'w'aps," she continued, as she put great mouthfuls of porridge into her mouth, "when we has finished this nice bekfus you'll take us back to Wectory? You see, you isn't our aunt weally, not by no manner of[177] wights, and Uncle Ben isn't our uncle, and so we ought not to stay here; and if we go back to Wectory, why, Uncle William, what's our weal uncle, p'w'aps he would pay you money, if it's money you wants."

"Yes; it's true enough, it is money we want," replied the woman; "but, my dear," she added, the tears springing to her eyes, "I can't take you back to no Rectory. You have just got to stay here and to watch Uncle Ben when he's going through his rehearsal, and then this afternoon we are going on a very long journey, and you are coming with us—and oh, I forgot to say that, when you have finished your breakfast, I must put something on your faces."

"Something on our faces?" said Diana.

"Yes, my little love; it has to be done. But when we get to another part of the country I'll wash the ugly stuff off again, and you'll look as fair and pretty as you do now. It won't make much difference after all to you, little missy," she added, gazing fixedly at Diana, "'cos you are very dark by nature. Yes, I had a little kid of my own, a little gal, and she wasn't unlike you—no, not by no means. I'll be kind to you for her pretty sake, my little dear. Now, eat your breakfast, and be quick, the pair of you."

"Has your little girl what was like me got deaded?" asked Diana, in a very thoughtful and earnest voice.

"She is dead, my dear. Yes, yes, she is dead," replied the woman. "Eat up your breakfast now; I have no time to answer questions."

Orion did not need a second bidding; he had already plunged his spoon into the porridge, and soon his little bowl was empty, and also the jug of milk. Diana also finished her breakfast, but more thoughtfully. She was a wonderfully wise little girl for her[178] tender years, and at the present moment she was dreadfully puzzled to know what to do. She was quite shrewd enough to guess that Mother Rodesia was a bad sort of woman, and that she, Diana, had done wrong ever to trust herself to her. Uncle Ben, too, in spite of her brave words, terrified her more or less. All things considered, therefore, she would not have been at all sorry to find herself back again at the Rectory, with Miss Ramsay to teach her, and Aunt Jane hovering in the background. "Isn't it funny, we has got our nightdwesses on?" she said suddenly. "Woman, it's not pwoper to have our bekfus in our nightdwesses; and these are such keer nightdwesses, not at all what they ought to be. Our mother would not like us to be dwessed in this sort of style. Can you get our day dwesses, p'ease, for us to put on, Aunt Sawah?"

"No; I can't get the dresses you wore yesterday," replied Aunt Sarah; "but for all that you shall wear a very pretty little frock. I have got a blue one for you with white wings. What do you say to that?"

"B'ue, with white wings?" echoed Diana. "It sounds pwetty; but I must have a b'ack bow, p'ease, woman, 'cos our mother has gone away to the angels, you underland; and when mothers go to the angels little girls wear b'ack bows—at least, that's what Iris says. Oh, I say, Orion," suddenly concluded Diana; "what is we to do without Iris? She is our little mother now. You underland what I mean; doesn't you, Orion?"

The only answer Orion made was to fling himself flat down on the floor and begin to howl with all his might.

"You had best not do that, young sir," said Aunt[179] Sarah, "for if Uncle Ben hears he'll be awful angry. He is a terrible man when he's angered. It's only right I should tell you the solemn truth, you poor little kids."

"We isn't kids; we is sildrens," said Diana.

"Well, you poor little children, then. Now, young master, if you'll take my advice, you'll do exactly what I tell you. I'm going to be a friend to you and to your little sister. I'll give you, by hook or by crook, the very best food I can get, and the prettiest dresses to wear, and I'll see that my husband, Ben Holt, aint rough to you, and I'll see, also, that Molly and Kitty and Susan, the circus girls, are kind to you, and that Tom, the clown, behaves as he ought; but I can do nothing if you won't obey me. And if you begin by angering Uncle Ben, why, it'll be all up with you, my little dears."

"I don't know what you mean by all up," answered Diana, her eyes sparkling brightly; "and what's more, I don't care. But I'd like to know if you has a weal live clown about, 'cos I like clowns and I love pant'mimes. I went to a pant'mime 'fore mother was took to the angels."

"Our show is something like a pantomime, and yet it's different," replied Aunt Sarah. "Now then, missy, stop talking, for we has no time to waste. Come over here and let me put this nice stuff on your face. It won't hurt you one little bit—it's just to make you look a little browner than you do now, you and little master. Now, come along here, and let me do it at once. Afterwards, I'll dress you in real pretty things. You, little missy, shall wear some of my own child's clothes—the little Rachel what died. My heart broke when she died, missy, and if I didn't mean to be real[180] kind to you I wouldn't put her pretty little dress on you, that I wouldn't."

Orion stepped back in some alarm when he saw the woman stirring something very brown and ugly in a tin can.

"I don't want that horrid stuff on my face," he said.

"But you must have it, master; if you don't, Uncle Ben will use you dreadful," said the woman. "Now, missy, tell your little brother to be guided by me. If he don't do what I tell 'im he'll suffer, and I won't be able to help either of you."

"Don't be silly, Orion," said Diana. "What do a little bwown stuff matter? And Aunt Sawah's wather a nice sort of woman. I'll do what you wish, Aunt Sawah." She came up as she spoke, pushed her black, tangled hair away from her charming little face, and allowed Aunt Sarah to cover it with the walnut juice. "It's sort of sticky, and it don't smell nice," said the little girl; "but I spects you can't help it. I spects you is kind about your heart; isn't you?"

"Yes, my little dear; I try to be," said the woman. "Now, call your brother over, and let me dye his face and neck and little hands."

"Come 'long, Orion," said Diana; "don't be silly."

"You do look so ugly, Diana," answered Orion.

"Well, what do it matter?" said Diana. "I has to p'ease Aunt Sawah; she's a nice sort of a woman. I wather like her."

Orion, who had always submitted to Diana, submitted again now as a matter of course. The walnut dye was not pleasant; he felt quite sticky and uncomfortable, but he allowed it to cover his little face and his white neck and hands.

The dye dried very quickly, and the children looked[181] as like two gypsies as possible when they surveyed one another.

"Now, I'm going to fetch the clothes,"