Meade L. T. - The Girls of St. Wode's стр 14.

Poor Mrs. Acheson cast anxious eyes

of misery and commiseration at her friend, and was hurled out of the room by the emphatic Belle. A moment or two later the hall-door was shut behind the pair.

Thank goodness, they are gone at last! cried Mrs. Chetwynd. My dear Lettie, is that you? Come here, child, come here. Now, tell me, what did that awful girl say to the children?

Here are the children coming down to answer for themselves, said Marjorie, springing lightly into the room accompanied by Eileen.

Oh, darling little mammy, what is the matter? cried Marjorie. She ran up to her mother and kissed her. Why, you look quite worried, you dear old thing. Let me smooth out those furrows on your dear brow! Ah! you look more like yourself now. Come, sit here, and I will sit near you. I will pet you, and you will soon forget all your worries. Is it not good, mammy dear, to have a grown-up daughter on whom to lean?

But if the grown-up daughter wont be leant on, cried poor Mrs. Chetwynd. Oh, my child, everything seems to be topsy-turvy; and that appalling girl, for there is no other word for her

Of course the world did turn topsy-turvy twenty years ago, said Eileen. For women everything is completely changed. We who were so low are now in the ascendant. It is men who are nowhere. You, dear mammy, must be guided by us for the remainder of your days. You will live here, of course, or anywhere else you fancy, and we will spend our vacations with you.

My dear, dear Eileen, you dont know what you are talking about. That terrible girl has inoculated you with her democratic views. She is a fearful creature, a sort of monster; and the queer, extraordinary things she said, and the way she hurled her poor mother out of the room, I have really no words to describe. I do pity Mrs. Acheson; but if you think for a single moment, Eileen, that I am going to submit to you and Marjorie having the upper hand and managing your own lives, you are mistaken.

Eileen uttered a deep sigh.

It will be troublesome, she said slowly, and we would much rather not be troublesome; it would worry you, and we would much rather not worry you. Mammy, why dont you give in at once? It would be so much more graceful of you, mammy; it would really.

Yes, mother; I wish you would, said Marjorie.

But what am I to give in about? said Mrs. Chetwynd. Letitia, have you nothing to say? You have lived with us since you were a baby; in every respect you have been treated as a daughter of the house. Cant you speak, cant you show these insubordinate, wicked girls how dreadfully they are acting?

It is useless, said Lettie, shrugging her shoulders; they are determined to have their own way. I am afraid you must bear it, Aunt Helen.

Mrs. Chetwynd burst into tears. Marjorie and Eileen looked at her with eyes full of pity.

I wish it was not necessary, said Eileen. I do wish we could comfort you, dear old mammy. I do wish we could say that we would be presented to Her Majesty, and go into society six evenings out of the seven; but you see we just cant, and it would be the maddest weakness to yield.

Go into society I will not, said Marjorie. I have made up my mind. I also think what Belle said is excellent; and after two or three years of that splendid training, I am

Yes, yes, yes. I too have made up my mind, interrupted Eileen. Mother, dear, you will write to-night?

To Miss Lauderdale? said poor Mrs. Chetwynd; that awful girl gave me the name. What in the wide world am I to write to her about?

To get all the necessary particulars, as we want to go to St. Wodes at the beginning of term.

Oh, my child, I cannot permit it, said Mrs. Chetwynd.

But, mother dear, do listen, said Marjorie. She sat down by her mother and began to speak. Eileen took her mothers other hand. The girls could talk well; they had plenty of intellect, and they could expound their views in a simple and yet telling manner. Now, Mrs. Chetwynd could never answer any argument which required a logical deduction. She was therefore completely worsted by her clever and modern daughters. Each of her little excuses, each of her small efforts to get the girls to remain at home with her, to go into society, to lead the ordinary life of the ordinary young woman, were quietly and politely demolished by both Eileen and Marjorie. Finally, Mrs. Chetwynd found herself saying she would think about the matter. All three girls knew well that when Mrs. Chetwynd went as far as that the thing was accomplished.

Dont worry the mammy any more now, said Eileen. Lie back in your chair, dear mammy. Lettie, run upstairs for mothers eau de Cologne; we will put some on her forehead. Poor dear darling, shes the sweetest mother in all the world; isnt she, Marjorie?

A perfect angel, said Marjorie.

She stooped and kissed her mother. Eileen also kissed her. There they stood in their shabby dresses, a little piece of Eileens petticoat peeping below her skirt, their short hair pushed up from their foreheads, their handsome faces alight with fire and excitement.