My Little Sister Part 33

"We won't wait," said our aunt. "We'll take this taxi."

But just then the beautiful s.h.i.+ning car swerved free, and we were hurried in. The footman spread a rug over our knees. As we glided out of the station I noticed the dowdy woman asking her way of a policeman.

And the policeman didn't know the way. He shook his head. And both of them looked after us.

As we whirled through the crowded streets I felt how everyone must be envying Bettina and me.

Presently we came to a quiet corner. The houses stood back from the street, in gardens. Our aunt's was one of these.

I was too excited to notice much about the outside. But the inside!

Betty and I exchanged looks. We had no idea Aunt Josephine was so rich.

There were more big footmen--foreigners; very quick and quiet.

The entrance-hall and stairs were wide and dim. When the front-door was shut, the house seemed as silent as a church on a week-day, and the soft-footed servants rather like the sidesmen who show strangers to their places. The very window was like a window in a church. It had stained gla.s.s in it, and black lines divided it from top to bottom, into sections, like church windows.

If I had ventured to speak I should have whispered. Not even at Lord Helmstone's had we trodden on such carpets. No wonder our footsteps made no sound. Going upstairs we seemed like a procession in a picture. That was because the walls were immense mirrors separated by gilded columns.

Aunt Josephine had taken off her motor-veil. She had certainly grown much thinner since she had the photograph taken. That accounted for her being a more "aquiline" aunt than we expected. Her nose curved down, especially when she smiled. And her eyes were not sleepy at all--a full yellow eye, the iris almost black.

We followed her along a corridor till she threw open a door. "This is yours," she said in the voice that was both sharp and quick.

I looked into the wonderful pink and white room. Instead of two little beds, as we had at home, was one very large one. It looked like an Oriental throne with rose-silk hangings.

"I will send you up some tea," she said. "And you must rest. I am having a friend or two to dine. So wear your smartest gown. Come," she said to Betty.

"Betty is the one who ought to rest," I said.

"And so she shall," our aunt said. "I will show Betty her room."

Betty looked blank.

"We are not to be together?" she asked.

"Together!" Aunt Josephine repeated the word with the smile that drew her nose down. "Oh, you shall have a room of your own."

Betty moved a little nearer me.

I explained that she and I always had the same room.

"Yes, in a small house. Here there is no need."

I wanted to tell her that it was not need that made us share things. But though poor Betty looked cast down, all I said was that I should come to her in plenty of time to do her hair.

"A maid will do that," my aunt said.

But I managed to tell her quite firmly that I must show the maid how.

Aunt Josephine looked at me a moment.

She doesn't like me, I thought. And I felt uncomfortable.

As she followed her out, Betty made a sign over her shoulder that I was to come now.

But after that look Aunt Josephine had given me, I felt I must walk warily. So I only signalled back, as much as to say "by-and-by."

A woman in a cap and ap.r.o.n brought me tea.

I asked if she would mind taking the tray to my sister's room so we could have tea together.

The woman said madam's orders were that the young ladies should rest. I reflected that Bettina would probably rest better if she did not talk, so I said no more.

The woman had a face like wood.

Two of the big footmen brought in our little trunk. I got out Bettina's dressing-gown and slippers, and asked the wooden woman to take them to my sister.

I was so tired with all the excitement that I went to sleep on the pink satin sofa.

The wooden woman waked me.

"Time to dress," she said, and she had the bath ready. I looked round for our little trunk.

"Oh, you couldn't have a thing like that standing about in here," the wooden woman said.

And, indeed, I had felt, as I saw it coming in, how out of keeping its shabbiness was with all the satin damask, the gilding, and the lace.

She had done the unpacking, the wooden woman said. And there were my white satin frock and silk stockings on the bed. "But half the things in the trunk are my sister's," I said.

She had taken the other young lady what was needed, the woman answered.

And whatever I wanted I was to ring for.

I felt that this was no doubt the way of London ladies. But I longed for our shabby little trunk. It seemed the last link with home. I looked round the beautiful room with a sense of distaste.

This feeling must be the homesickness I had read about.

I went to the window. The lines that divided the long panes into panels, the lines that I had thought of as purely decorative were rods of iron.

"You'll be late," the wooden woman said, and she drew the silk curtains over the lace ones, and switched on the electric light.

She came back while I was brus.h.i.+ng my hair. She offered to do it for me.

I was so glad to be able to do it myself. I would not have liked her to touch me.

I hurried with my dressing so that I could go to Bettina.

The woman tried to prevent me. But I was firm. "Show me the way, will you? Or shall I ask someone else?"

She hesitated, and then seemed to think she had best do as she was told.