I was comforted, however, by finding a good fire and a hot cup of coffee in the parlour for myself and Lizzie, provided by our invaluable housekeeper, Susan Barepoles, a girl who was worthy of a better name, being an active, good-looking, cheerful lass. She was the daughter of the skipper of one of our coal sloops, named Haco Barepoles, a man of excellent disposition, but gifted with such a superabundance of animal spirits, courage, and recklessness, that he was known in the port of Wreckumoft as Mad Haco.
Much exhausted by one of the hardest nights of toil and exposure I ever spent, I retired to my room and sought and found repose.
Chapter Five.
The Breakfast Party at Seaside Villa
The morning after the storm was bright and beautiful. The breakers, indeed, were still thundering on the shore, but otherwise the sea was calm, and the sun shone into the breakfast parlour of Seaside Villa with a degree of intensity that might have warmed the heart of an oyster. It certainly warmed the heart of the household cat, which, being an early riser, was first down-stairs, and lay at full length on the rug, enjoying at once the heat of the glowing fire which tinged its brown back with red, and the blazing sun which turned its white breast yellow.
Presently a dark cloud entered the room. It sat on the brow of George Stuart, Esquire, of Wreckumoft, the head of the family. Mr Stuart walked up to the fire and turned his back to it, as if to offer it a deliberate insult, while yet he accepted all the benefit it could afford him on that cold December morning.
The cat being in his way, he moved it out of his way with his foot. He did it roughly, but he did not exactly kick it, for he was not a cruel, or naturally unkind man.
Having disposed of the cat, and looked twice at his watch, and blown his nose three timesthe last twice unnecessarilyMr Stuart rang the bell with violence.
Mrs Niven entered.
Why is breakfast not ready? said the master with asperity.
Breakfast is ready, sir, replied the housekeeper with dignity.
Where is my sister, then, and the rest of them? The questioner was partly answered by the abrupt and somewhat flurried entrance of the sister referred to.
Whats the meaning of this, Peppy? demanded Mr Stuart with a frown.
My dear George, said Miss Peppy, bustling about actively, I really am sorry, but you know things cant always be just as one would wish, and then when things do turn out occasionally as one would not wish, and as one had no expectation of, and, so to speak, without consulting one at all, (dear me, where is that key?)and when one cant help things turning out so, you know, its really too much totoyou know what I mean, brother; come now, be reasonable.
I do not know what you mean, Peppy, (the ladys name when unabbreviated was Penelope, but as she never was so named by any one, she might as well not have had the name at all), and, continued Mr Stuart, emphatically, I would advise you to be reasonable and explain yourself.
Dear George, how can you, said Miss Peppy, who talked with great volubility, and who never for a moment ceased to bustle about the room in a series of indescribable, as well as unaccountable, not to say unnecessary, preparations for the morning meal, which had already been prepared to perfection by Mrs Niven; you surely dont forgetthings do happen so surprisingly at timesreally, you know, I can not see why we should be subjected to such surprises. Im quite sure that no good comes of it, and then it makes one look so foolish. Why human beings were made to be surprised so, I never could understand. No one ever sees pigs, or horses, or cows surprised, and they seem to get through life a great deal easier than we do, at all events they have less worry, and they never leave their children at their neighbours doors and run awaywhat can have got it?Im quite sure I put it there last night with the thimble and scissors.
Miss Peppy thrust her right hand deep into that mysterious receptacle of household miscellanies her pocket, and fingered the contents inquiringly for a few moments.
What are you looking for? inquired her brother impatiently.
The key of the press, said Miss Peppy with a look of weariness and disappointment.
What key is that in your left hand? said Mr Stuart.
Why, I declare, thats it! exclaimed his sister with a laugh; there is no accounting for things. My whole life is a series of small surprises and perplexities. I wonder what I was born for! It seems to me so ridiculous that so serious a thing as life should be taken up with such little trifles.
Whats that you say about trifles, aunt? asked Kenneth, who entered the room at the moment, and saluted Miss Peppy on the cheek.
Nothing, Kennie, nothing worth mentioning, (she seated herself at the table and began to pour out the tea): it seems that you have been saving more lives last night.
Well, yes, at least I saved one, said Kenneth, with a look of mingled pride and pleasure; stout John Furby, the coxswain of the new lifeboat, was knocked overboard and nearly drowned. Bucephalus and I chanced to be near the spot at the time, so we managed to pull him out between us.
I dont like Bucephalus, observed Miss Peppy, stirring her tea with her egg-spoon by mistake.
Dont you, auntwhy?
Because hes so big and strong and fierce. I wonder you can take pleasure in riding such a great cart-horse, Kennie.
Miss Peppy at this moment discovered her mistake in regard to the egg-spoon, and rectified it, observing with a look of resignation, that there was no accounting for the way in which things happened in this world.
Dont call my Bucephalus a cart-horse, aunt, said Kenneth, beginning to eat languidly; true, he is uncommonly big and strong, but then I am unusually big too, so were well matched; and then his limbs are as delicately turned as those of a racer; and you should see him taking a five-barred gate, aunt!he carries me over as if I were a mere feather. Think of his swimming powers too. John Furby is not the first man he has enabled me to drag out of the stormy sea. Ah! hes a noble horseworthy of higher praise than you seem inclined to give him, believe me.
Well Im sure I have no objection to the horse if you have none, Kennie, and its a good thing for a beast to be able to save human lives, though why human lives should require to be saved at all is a mystery that I never could fathom; surely if men would only agree to give up going to sea altogether, and never build any more ships, there would be no more drowning, and no need of lifeboats and cork bootsor coats, I forget whichthat enable them to walk on the water, or float in it, I dont remember which. Im sure with all that I have to remember its no wonderwhat with ridiculous little trifles to worry one, such as keys, and thimbles, and scissors, when we should be giving our minds to the solemn realities of lifeand then,as if that were not enough for any womans shoulders,to have a little child left at ones door.
Oh, by the way, interrupted Kenneth, I had quite forgotten the child. Mrs Niven told me about it, and I looked into the crib as I went up to bed last night, or rather this morning, and saw that it was sleepingsomewhat restlessly I fancied. Who brought it here?