"Must I do it again?" said Susan. "I had rather not go, if it is to be such a plague."
"Indeed, I fear you must, Susie. It is quite needful to learn how to write a respectable note; really a more difficult thing than writing a long letter. I am sorry for you; but if you were not so careless in your letters to Mamma this would come more easily to you."
But this time Miss Fosbrook not only ruled another sheet, but wrote, in fair large-hand on a slate, the words, that Susan might copy them without fresh troubles:
We are much obliged to your Mamma for her kind invitation, and shall have much pleasure in coming with Miss Fosbrook to dine with you and spend the day. I am sorry to say that Mamma was not quite so well when last we heard. Her address is--No. 12,--St., Grosvenor-place.
Susan thought that here were a very serious number of words, and begged hard for leave to leave out her sorrow. Of course she was sorry, but what was the use of telling Ida so?
Miss Fosbrook thought it looked better, but Susan might do as she pleased.
"I wouldn't say it, then," said Sam. "I wouldn't say it only to look better to Ida." With which words he and Hal walked off to the garden.
Would it be believed? Susan, in her delight at being near the end, forgot the grand huntsman, and made the unlucky Place "Grovesnor," and then, in her haste to mend it, put her finger into the wet ink, and smeared not only that word, but all the line above!
It was a shame and a wonder that a girl of her age should be so incapable of producing a creditable note; and Miss Fosbrook was very near scolding her but she had pity on the tearful eyes and weary fingers, and spoke cheerfully: "There, that was almost the thing. One more trial, Susan, and you need never be afraid of Ida's notes again."
If Susan could not write notes, at least she was not cross; and it would be well if many who could send off a much better performance with far less difficulty could go to work as patiently as she did, without one pettish word to Miss Fosbrook, though that lady seemed to poor Susie as hard a task mistress as if she could have helped it. This time Miss Fosbrook authorized the leaving out of the spending the day, and suggested that S. would be enough without the whole Susanna, and she mercifully directed the cover to Miss Greville.
"There, my dear, you have worked hard for your pleasure," she said, as Susan extended each hand to its broadest stretch to uncramp them, and stretched herself backwards as if she wanted to double her head down to her heels. "I shall give you a good mark, Susie, as if it had been a lesson."
Susan deserved it, for her patient perseverance had been all out of obedience, not in the mere desire of having her note admired. Indeed, good child, at the best it was a very poor affair for a girl of twelve, and Miss Fosbrook was ashamed of it when she looked at Ida's lady-like little billet.
"But I wonder," said she to herself, "whether I shall feel as if I would change my dear stupid Susan for Miss Ida?"
Meanwhile Susan flew screaming and leaping out into the garden in a mad tom-boy fashion; but that could well be pardoned, as there were only her sisters to see her; and the pleasure of having persevered and done her best was enough to make her heart and her limbs dance for merriment.
Depend upon it, however wretched and miserable hard application to what we do not like may seem at the moment, it is the only way to make play-times really delicious.
CHAPTER IX.
Miss Fosbrook soon knew what Mrs. Merrifield meant by saying that visits at the Park unsettled the children. Susan indeed, though liking anything that shortened lessons by an hour, and made a change, was not so fond of being on her good behaviour at the Park as to be greatly exalted at the prospect; but Elizabeth and Annie were changed beings. They were constantly breaking out with some new variety of wonder. They wondered whether they should dine in the school-room, or at Mrs. Greville's luncheon; they wondered if Mr. Greville would speak to them; they wondered whether Fraulein Munsterthal would be cross; they wondered if Ida still played with dolls; and they looked as if they thought themselves wonderful, too, for going out for a day!
Nay, the wonders were at their tongues' end even when lessons began, and put their farthings in great peril; and when they had nothing else to wonder at, they wondered when it would be twelve o'clock, and took no pains to swallow enormous yawns. Once, over her copy, Elizabeth exclaimed, "Now! yes, this is necessary, Miss Fosbrook! May not we wear our white frocks?"
"They are not ironed," answered Susan.
"Oh, do let me go and tell Mary! There's lots of time," said Bessie, who had lately thought it cruel of the clock to point only to half- past ten, and never bethought herself how Mary would like to be called off from her scrubbing to iron three white frocks.
"Would your Mamma wish it?" asked Christabel.
"Oh dear no," was Susan's answer; "we always wear clean ones of our every-day frocks. Our white ones are only for dinner-parties and Christmas-trees."
Bessie grumbled. "How cross! I hate those nasty old spotty cottons;" and Johnnie returned to the old story--"Little vain pussy- cat."
Up went Miss Fosbrook's warning pencil, she shook her head, and held out her hand for two fines. Elizabeth began to gulp and sob.
"Oh, don't, Betty!" cried Susan. "Stop while you can. You won't like going up with red eyes. There, I'll pay your fine; and there's another for my speaking."
"No, Susie; that was not foolish speaking, but kind words," said Miss Fosbrook; "but no more now; go on, Annie."
But Annie, who was reading a little history of St. Paul, would call Cilicia, Cicilia, and when told to spell it she began to cry too decidedly for Susan's good-nature to check her tears. And not only did Elizabeth's copy look as if she had written it with claws instead of fingers, but she was grieving over her spotted cotton instead of really seeking for places in her map. Thus the Moselle obstinately hid itself; and she absolutely shed tears because Miss Fosbrook declared that Frankfort WAS on the Maine. For the first time she had her grammar turned back upon her hands. How many mistakes Annie made would be really past telling; for these two little girls had their whole minds quite upset by the thought of a day's pleasure; and as they never tried to restrain themselves, and to "be sober, be vigilant," they gave way before all the little trials in their paths- -were first careless, and then fractious. Perhaps when they were older they would find out that this uplifted sense of excited expectation is the very warning to be heedful.
If Miss Fosbrook had been a strict governess, she would have told them they did not deserve to go at all; or at any rate, that Bessie must repeat her grammar better, and re-write her copy, and that Annie's unlucky addition sum must be made to prove; but she had seen her little sisters nearly as bad in prospect of a pantomime, so she was merciful, and sent them in good time to brush their hair, put on their spotted cottons, and wash off as much as possible of the red mottling left by those foolish tears.
Their spirits rose again as fast as they had sunk; and it was a lively walk through the park to the great house, with a good deal of skipping and jumping at first, and then, near the door, a little awe and gravity.
They were taken through a side-door of the hall to the school-room, where Ida and her governess received them. It was the first time that Christabel had seen her out of her beplumed hat, and she thought her a pleasant, bright-looking little girl, not at all set up or conceited. Her mauve muslin, flounced though it was up to her waist, showed that it had been wise to withstand Bessie's desire for the white muslins; but Miss Fosbrook had enough to do on her own account with the endeavour to understand the German governess's foreign accent, without attending to the children more than was necessary.