Chapter IV: Dr. Reed's Offer

TWO months had elapsed since the Sunday Dr. Reed had spent with his old friend at Streatham, and it was now the second week in January. The Wyndham children were all at home for the holidays, and, as the weather was wet and stormy, they had to remain indoors nearly every day, which proved trying, especially for the boys who teased their sisters, and worried poor Barbara "nearly out of her life," as she declared to Ruth, to whom she confided her grievances. Mr. Wyndham was working at the office very late of a night, at this time, and returning home in the early hours of the morning; his wife tried her best to keep the house quiet whilst he was taking his rest, but it was most difficult to do so, and the consequence was that he often failed in obtaining the sleep he so badly needed.

"I don't think our boys are worse than others," Mrs. Wyndham remarked to her little daughters, one afternoon, when Barbara had ousted the twins from the kitchen and they had betaken themselves to their own room upstairs, where, for the present, they were quiet; "but I must admit that they are very high-spirited and noisy. Barbara cannot manage them a bit."

"She cannot get on with her work if they are playing marbles on the kitchen floor," Violet replied; "and you know, mother, you complained to her yesterday that she had not changed her gown by tea-time."

"She had the kitchen stove to clean," Ruth said excusingly; "so it was really not her fault; and Frank upset a pail of water in the scullery, and that had to be mopped up. Barbara will be glad when the boys go back to school."

"Well, we shall all be back to school next week," put in Madge, not altogether regretfully; "all except you, Ruth."

"I wonder if father has given up all thoughts of sending Ruth to boarding-school, mother?" interrogated Violet. "Girls don't usually leave school at fifteen, do they?"

"No," Mrs. Wyndham replied, "but Ruth is too old to remain any longer at Miss Minter's, and I don't know how we can send her anywhere else. Your father is very short of money, at present."

"I shall stay at home and help you and Barbara, mother," Ruth said cheerfully, noting the look of distress on her mother's face; "I don't want to go to boarding-school. Perhaps by-and-by I shall be able to have lessons in drawing and painting at home—I don't show talent for anything but drawing and painting, Miss Minter says; I'm not like Violet, who's clever all the way round."

They all laughed at that, and Violet looked pleased. She really was a clever little girl, and industrious, too.

"I do not know what I should do without you at home, Ruth," said Mrs. Wyndham very seriously; "and you don't mind doing housework, do you, dear?"

"No," Ruth answered truthfully.

"Your father was saying to me only yesterday that he thought you would make a clever little housekeeper one of these days," Mrs. Wyndham continued, smiling at her eldest daughter; "he was so pleased with the way in which you cooked that steak for his supper the night Barbara was out. I could not have done it so well myself."

"I rather like cooking," responded Ruth, colouring with gratification.

"I should hate it," Violet confessed; "in fact, I dislike housework of any kind. I should like to be able to keep servants to do everything of that sort."

At that point in the conversation, the boys, having found nothing to interest them upstairs, appeared upon the scene and asked permission to make toffee over the sitting-room fire, as Barbara would not have, them in the kitchen. At first Mrs. Wyndham opposed the idea, but, as Madge joined her entreaties to her brothers', she gave in, and Ruth was prevailed upon to fetch the necessary ingredients and a saucepan.

Half an hour afterwards when Mr. Wyndham opened the front door and entered the house, he was greeted by the sound of high voices in the sitting-room and the smell of burnt toffee. With a weary sigh he turned into his study, and shut the door; but, ten minutes subsequently, he came out with an open letter in his hand and made his way to the sitting-room, where the burnt toffee had been emptied into a buttered dish, and the young folks were impatiently waiting for it to cool.

"It's all Madge's fault it is burnt," Billy was saying aggrievedly, as his father appeared, "she said she'd keep it stirred; but perhaps it won't taste so very bad—oh, here's father!"

Mr. Wyndham beckoned to his wife, who followed him from the room, closing the door behind her. The children exchanged significant glances.

"Something's happened," remarked Frank; and the others agreed with him.

"I expect it's to do with a bill," said Violet; "the butcher called this morning to know when it would be convenient for father to settle his account. Mother said she had no idea we owed him so much money as he said we did, and that she would speak to father about it; or, perhaps—"

"Oh, I don't fancy it's to do with anything disagreeable!" Ruth interposed; "I thought father looked quite pleased."

"So did I," agreed Madge; "perhaps something good has happened."

"I hope so, I'm sure," Ruth replied; and she fell to wondering if her father had been offered a better post at last.

By-and-by Mrs. Wyndham reappeared, looking flushed and excited, and bade Ruth go to her father in the study. As soon as she had gone Mrs. Wyndham explained to the others that her husband had received a letter, from Dr. Reed, offering to make a home for their sister and educate her with his own daughter for the next two years.

"It is a most kind, most generous offer," she said; "and your father and I are much touched by it—only what I shall do without Ruth I do not know! I shall miss her terribly!"

At first the young folks were too surprised at their mother's news to say much, but very soon they began to ask questions, and it was not long before they were in full possession of all the details of Dr. Reed's plan for their sister's benefit, so that by the time Ruth returned to the sitting-room they knew as much as she did herself. She appeared pleased, but her manner was very subdued.

"What a lucky girl you are, Ruth!" exclaimed Violet, half enviously. "Isn't Dr. Reed wonderfully thoughtful and kind? Oh, how I wish I were you!"

"Do you?" Ruth asked. "Yes, you would like to go to Helmsford College, I know. Father says it is a splendid school, one of the best in England; and I am to live with the Reeds—"

"Then it is decided already that you are to go?" Madge broke in eagerly. "Oh, Ruthie," the little girl proceeded, as she received a nod for an answer, "I hope you won't go away and get very proud and grand! Don't get to love Ann Reed better than you do us."

"As though I ever should!" Ruth exclaimed, half indignant, half amused at the idea. Her voice sounded slightly tremulous, and she was evidently agitated. "Dr. Reed says in his letter that he hopes Ann and I will be great friends," she continued, "but I don't know about that, and I shall miss you all so much—"

"And we shall miss you, darling," her mother assured her; "I have been saying that I do not know what I shall do without you. Your father, too, will be quite at a loss when you are gone, it's for you he looks the minute he comes home."

"I could be much better spared than Ruthie, couldn't I, mother?" Violet said. "How I should like to be in her shoes!"

"Would you?" Ruth asked quickly.

"Indeed yes! But you mustn't think me envious of you, Ruthie; I hope I'm not that. Mother says that Dr. Reed promises you shall be treated exactly as his own daughter, and no outsider will know that he is providing for you. Only think how nice it will be for you to live in a house where there's plenty of everything, servants to wait upon you, and—oh, dear me, you are a fortunate girl!"

"I am sure I am," Ruth answered earnestly; "but I shall be continually thinking of you all at home, and if I thought father would miss me very much—" She paused and looked wistfully at her mother, then continued— "Mother, tell me truly, if you had to choose between Violet and me, which of us would you keep at home? Oh, yes, I know I'm the one Dr. Reed wrote about—he thought of me because I am the eldest of the family, and I remember father told him I was leaving Miss Minter's at Christmas—but do, please, answer my question."

But this Mrs. Wyndham was not inclined to do. She shook her head; then, as Ruth was persistent in demanding a reply, she said evasively:—

"I shall miss you more than I should miss Violet because you do not mind putting your hand to housework, my dear; but I am very glad you should have such a splendid opportunity offered you for completing your education, and —and perhaps, when you are gone, Violet will try to fill your place at home."

Violet did not say that she would. She was regarding her sister curiously.

Ruth did not appear so exultant at the sudden change in her prospects as might have been expected, and there was a tender gravity in her glance as it rested on her mother that Violet failed to comprehend, for she was sure that if she was in Ruth's place her delight would know no bounds.

Violet never sought to disguise the truth that she was discontented with her home—perhaps it was natural she should be that—but she was ashamed of it, too, of its poverty, and the fact that her father was, as she considered, an unsuccessful man. Success to Violet meant a handsomely furnished house, servants, fashionable clothes, and plenty of money, all of which she hankered after, and she would have given a great deal to change places with the sister who now had the opportunity of turning her back, for two years at least, on the shabby, ill-managed home which Violet secretly despised, though it had always been rich in love.

Ruth's good fortune formed the chief topic of conversation during the remainder of the day. Ruth herself listened to the comments of the various members of the household with mingled feelings. Though everyone was pleased, for her sake, there was evidently a general impression that it would have been better for the family had Violet been the one selected to leave home.

Mr. Wyndham had determined not to answer Dr. Reed's letter till the following day, but he had not the least idea of refusing his friend's generous offer, which had arrived so opportunely, as he thought; therefore, he was considerably amazed when, that evening, shortly before it was time for him to start for the city, Ruth came to him in his study and informed him that, all things considered, she would rather not go to be educated at Helmsford College with Ann Reed.

"I want you to ask Dr. Reed to take Violet instead of me," she said falteringly; "please tell him I'm not ungrateful, but, if he does not mind, I would so much rather remain at home. Yes, father, I mean it. I thought, at first, that I should like to go, but Violet will do better at Helmsford College than I should; for she is clever and I am not, and I am wanted at home. Violet is only a year younger than I am, so she is quite old enough to go to a big school."

"But, my dear child, no mention has been made of Violet at all," Mr. Wyndham reminded her.

"No, but I am sure Dr. Reed would take her instead of me if you suggested it, father. Do ask him, and see what he says."

"But, child, it is not fair to set you aside. I greatly wished to send you to boarding-school, but I could not afford to do so, and—oh, no, you mustn't tempt me to keep you at home, though what we shall do without you, Ruthie, I really do not know."

"That is what mother and every one—even Barbara—says," Ruth told him eagerly. "Oh, father, I do really think it would be better if it could be managed for Violet to go instead of me. I do not think Dr. Reed and his wife will mind which of us they help, and—oh, it is good and kind of them to wish to help us at all! I am not nearly so quick to learn as Violet, I am sure she would do wonders at a good school. Please do write to Dr. Reed and ask him if he would mind having Violet instead of me."

Mr. Wyndham looked searchingly at his daughter; but he could read nothing in her face to tell him that it had been a hard matter for her to come to him with this request, and that she had put aside her own feelings for the sake of those dear to her, so he answered:—

"I am surprised you do not wish to go, Ruth. I don't know what to say. I will have a talk with your mother, however, and discuss the matter with her again. If you remain at home and Violet goes I shall be able to afford you drawing and painting lessons, and—well, we'll see!"

Mrs. Wyndham, when consulted, brightened perceptibly at the prospect of keeping her eldest daughter with her, and, finally, it was decided that, all things taken into consideration, it would be better for everybody if Violet went to live with the Reeds instead of Ruth. Mr. Wyndham wrote and intimated this to Dr. Reed, and, in due course, received an answer to the effect that Violet would be made as welcome as her sister would have been, and that she would be expected one day of the following week, as Helmsford College reopened in another fortnight's time. Violet, it is almost needless to tell, was immeasurably delighted at the turn matters had taken, and preparations were immediately commenced for her departure. She was going to a new life which would suit her better than the old, she told herself exultingly, and she was confident that Ruth did not mind remaining at home.