Two Little Waifs Part 10

"Hush," said Gladys sternly. "I'm _not_ going to let you learn to be a dirty boy. If we can't have a bath we may at least be _washed_."

"But if Papa's coming for us to-day or to-morrow," Roger said, "the new nurse could wash us. I don't believe Papa's coming for us," he went on as if he were going to cry again. "I believe we're going to stay here in this nugly little house _always_--and it's all a trick. I don't believe we've got any Papa."

Poor Gladys did not know what to say. Her own spirits were going down again, for she too was afraid that perhaps Madame Nestor was vexed, and she began to wonder if perhaps it would have been better to let things alone for a day or two--"If I was sure that Papa would come in a day or two," she thought! But she felt sure of nothing now--everything had turned out so altogether differently from what she had expected that her courage was flagging, and she too, for the first time since their troubles had begun, followed Roger's example and burst into tears.

CHAPTER VI.

AMONG THE SOFAS AND CHAIRS.

"They wake to feel That the world is a changeful place to live in, And almost wonder if all is real."

LAVENDER LADY.

So it was rather a woe-begone looking little couple, crouching together in the blanket, that met old Madame Nestor's eyes when, followed by the little servant with the biggest basin the establishment boasted of, and carrying herself a queer-shaped tin jug full of hot water and with a good supply of nice white towels over her arm, she entered the room again.

"How now, my little dears?" she exclaimed; "not crying, surely? Why, there's nothing to cry for!"

Gladys wiped her eyes with the skirt of her little nightgown, and looked up. She did not know what the old woman was saying, but her tone was as kind as ever. It was very satisfactory, too, to see the basin, small as it was, and still more, the plentiful hot water.

"Thank you, ma'am," said Gladys gravely, and nudging Roger to do the same. Everybody, she had noticed the day before, had called the old lady "madame," but that was the French for "ma'am" Leonie had told her, so she stuck to her native colours.

"Thank you," repeated Roger, but without the "ma'am." "It sounds so silly, n.o.body says it but servants," he maintained to Gladys, and no doubt it mattered very little whether he said it or not, as Madame Nestor didn't understand, though she was quick enough to see that her little guests meant to say something civil and kind. And the was.h.i.+ng was accomplished--I cannot say without difficulty, for Roger tried to stand in the basin and very nearly split it in two, and there was a great splas.h.i.+ng of water over the wooden floor--on the whole with success.

Poor Madame Nestor! When she had at last got her charges safely into their various garments, she sat down on a chair by the bed and fairly panted!

"It's much harder than cooking a dinner," she said to herself. "I can't think how my cousin Marie could stand it, if they have this sort of business every morning with English children. And five, six of them as there are sometimes! The English are a curious nation."

But she turned as smilingly as ever to Gladys and Roger; and Gladys, seeing that she was tired, and being sensible enough to understand that the kind old woman was really giving herself a great deal of trouble for their sake, went and stood close beside her, and gently stroked her, as she sometimes used to do--when Miss Susan was not there, be it remarked--to Mrs. Lacy.

"I wish I knew how to say 'thank you' in French," said Gladys to Roger.

But Madame Nestor had understood her.

"Little dear," she said in her own language, "she thinks I am tired."

The word caught Gladys's ear--"fatigued," she interrupted, "I know what that means. Poor Mrs. Nest," she explained to her little brother, "she says she's fatigued. I think we should kiss her, Roger," and both children lifted up their soft fresh rosy lips to the old woman, which was a language that needed no translation.

"Little dears," she repeated again, "but, all the same, I hope we shall soon have some news from the Papa. Ah!" she interrupted herself; "but there is the clock striking nine, and my breakfast not seen to. I must hasten, but what to do with these angels while I am in the kitchen?"

"Take them with you; children are very fond of being in a kitchen when they may," would have seemed a natural reply. But not to those who know what a Paris kitchen is. Even those of large grand houses would astonish many English children and big people, too, who have never happened to see them, and Madame Nestor's kitchen was really no better than a cupboard, and a cupboard more than half filled up with the stove, in and on which everything was cooked. There could be no question of taking the children into the kitchen, and the tiny room behind the shop was very dark and dull. Still it was the only place, and thither their old friend led them, telling them she must now go to cook the breakfast and they must try to amuse themselves; in the afternoon she would perhaps send them out a walk.

Two words in this were intelligible to Gladys.

"We are to be amused, Roger," she said, "and we are to promenade, that means a walk where the band plays like at Whitebeach last summer. I wonder where it can be?"

The gla.s.s door which led into the shop had a little curtain across it, but one corner was loose. This Gladys soon discovered.

"See here, Roger," she said, "we can peep into the shop and see if any one comes in. Won't that be fun?"

Roger took his turn of peeping.

"It aren't a pretty shop," he said, "it's all chairs and tables. I'd like a toy-shop, Gladdie, wouldn't you?"

"It wouldn't be much good if we mightn't play with the toys," Gladys replied. "But I'll tell you what, Roger, we might play at beautiful games of houses in there. We could have that corner where there are the pretty blue chairs for our drawing-room, and we might pay visits. Or I might climb in there behind that big sofa and be a princess in a giant's castle, and you might come and fight with the giant and get me out."

"And who'd be the giant?" asked Roger.

"Oh, we can _pretend_ him. I can make a dreadful _booing_ when I see you coming, and you can pretend you see him. But you must have a sword.

What would do for a sword?" she went on, looking round. "They haven't even a poker! I wish we had Miss Susan's umbrella."

"Here's one!" exclaimed Roger, spying the umbrella of Monsieur Adolphe, Madame Nestor's son, in a corner of the room. It was still rather damp, for poor Adolphe had had to come over in the heavy rain early that morning from the neighbouring inn where he had slept, having, as you know, given up his room to the two little strangers, and his mother would have scolded him had she noticed that he had put it down all dripping, though as the floor was a stone one it did not much matter.

And the children were not particular. They screwed up the wet folds and b.u.t.toned the elastic, and then shouldering it, Roger felt quite ready to fight the imaginary giant.

There was a little difficulty about opening the door into the shop, and rather _too_ little about shutting it, for it closed with a spring, and nearly snapped Roger and his umbrella in two. But he was none the worse save a little b.u.mp on his head, which Gladys persuaded him not to cry about. It would never do to cry about a knock when he was going to fight the giant, she a.s.sured him, and then she set to work, planning the castle and the way Roger was to come creeping through the forest, represented by chairs and stools of every shape, so that he grew quite interested and forgot all his troubles.

It really turned out a very amusing game, and when it was over they tried hide-and-seek, which would have been famous fun--there were so many hiding-holes among the bales of stuffs and pillows and uncovered cus.h.i.+ons lying about--if they had had one or two more to play at it with them! But to playfellows they were little accustomed, so they did not much miss them, and they played away contentedly enough, though quietly, as was their habit. And so it came about that Madame Nestor never doubted that they were in the little back-room where she had left them, when a ring at the front door of the shop announced a customer.

This door was also half of gla.s.s, and when it was opened a bell rang.

Gladys and Roger were busy looking for new hiding-places when the sudden sound of the bell startled them.

"Somebody's coming in," whispered Gladys; "Roger, let's hide. Don't let them see us; we don't know who they are," and quick as thought she stooped down in a corner, drawing her little brother in beside her.

From where they were they could peep out. Two ladies entered the shop, one young and one much older. The face of the older one Gladys did not distinctly see, or perhaps she did not much care to look at it, so immediately did the younger one seize her fancy. She was very pretty and pleasant-looking, with bright brown hair and sweet yet merry eyes, and as she threw herself down on a seat which stood near the door, Gladys was able to see that she was neatly and prettily dressed.

"Aren't you tired, Auntie?" she said to the other lady.

"A little. It is farther than I thought, and we have not much time. I wonder what colour will be prettiest for the curtains, Rosamond?"

"The shade of blue on that sofa over in the corner is pretty," said the young lady.

Gladys pinched Roger. It was precisely behind the blue-covered sofa that they were hiding.

"I wish they would be quick," said the elder lady. "Perhaps they did not hear the bell."

"Shall I go to the door and ring it again?" asked the one called Rosamond.

"I don't know; perhaps it would be better to tap at the gla.s.s door leading into the house. Madame Nestor sits in there, I fancy. She generally comes out at that door."

"I don't fancy she is there now," said the young lady. "You see we have come so early. It has generally been in the afternoon that we have come.

Madame Nestor is probably busy about her 'household avocations' at this hour," she added, with a smile.

"I wonder what that means," whispered Gladys. "I suppose it means the dinner."

Just at that moment the door opened, and Madame Nestor appeared, rather in a flutter. She was so sorry to have kept the ladies waiting, and how unfortunate! Her son had just gone to their house with the patterns for the curtains. He would have sent yesterday to ask at what hour the ladies would be at home, but they had all been so busy--an unexpected arrival--and Madame Nestor would have gone on to give all the story of Leonie's sudden visit to beg a shelter for the two little waifs, had not the ladies, who knew of old the good dame's long stories, cut her short as politely as they could.

"We are very hurried," said the one whom the young lady called "auntie."

"I think the best thing to be done is to get home as quickly as we can, and perhaps we shall still find your son there; if not, he will no doubt have left the patterns, so please tell him to try to come this evening or to-morrow morning before twelve, for we must have the curtains this week."