The Carbonels Part 9

"And this is your room!" said Sophy, looking about her. "Isn't it very cold?"

"Johnnie heats me a brick to keep me warm at night; but my feet are always cold downstairs. It does not make much difference."

"Oh dear! And you have a screen, I see. Oh! Why, that is our drawing-room paper."

She sat transfixed at the recognition, while Judith observed, quite innocently, with a free conscience--

"Yes, miss, my brother-in-law brought it home, and told me it was just a sc.r.a.p that was left over, and he was free to have, though I said I did wonder the lady did not want to keep it in case of an accident happening."

"Yes," said Sophy, "I don't think he had any business to have it, for all one division of the paper is put on upside down. The laburnums point up instead of hanging down, and I am sure Mary would have altered it if she could. It was beautiful French paper that Edmund brought home from Paris and laid up for the furnis.h.i.+ng their house."

This, of course, Mrs Carbonel and Dora would never have told poor Judith, but Sophy was young and unguarded, and apt to talk when she had better have held her tongue.

"I am sorry to hear it, miss, indeed I am. I am afraid one could not take it off the screen to put it back again where it did ought to be."

Sophy looked, but it was manifestly impossible. Spoiling the screen would not mend the wall of the drawing-room.

"Perhaps Molly might have another bit left," she said, only thinking of the triumph of carrying home the means of repairing the deficiency by her own una.s.sisted sagacity.

"I will ask her, miss. I am sure I never thought Dan would go for to do such a thing," mourned Judith, though, even as she spoke, there came back on her recollections of times when she had tried to be blind and deaf. "But if Mrs Carbonel would let me pay for it, miss, I should be easier in my mind. I have a s.h.i.+lling, though no doubt that is not the worth of it." And she began feeling for a little box under her pillow, never mentioning that she had already paid Dan a s.h.i.+lling for it.

"No, no; nonsense, Judith! Of course my sister would not take it for the world; but if any one could find another bit, just to patch up the part above the book-case, it would be nice."

"I will do what in me lays, Miss Sophy," answered Judith.

So Sophy took her leave and trotted home, very proud of her discovery, which she communicated in an eager voice as the phaeton drew up at the front door.

"Oh, Edmund, I have found the rest of the drawing-room paper!"

"Hus.h.!.+ not so loud, my dear," said Dora, getting out of the back seat, and Edmund, being busy in telling the groom to attend to something in the harness, did not heed at first.

"Did you know, Dora?" asked Sophy, in a lower voice, being struck by something in her repressive manner.

"Yes; but I did not tell, because Edmund was so much vexed, and it was of no use now."

Dora really hoped no one had heard, as Mary was busy with her parcels, and she was too fond of Judith not to wish to s.h.i.+eld her family; but it was too late. The captain came in with, "What's this about the drawing-room paper?"

Sophy was delighted to pour out the history of her discovery, and tell how it appeared on the screen that sheltered poor Judith Grey.

"Exactly as I supposed," said Captain Carbonel. "I always believed that fellow was a thief."

"But it is not poor Judith's fault," exclaimed the sisters, with one voice.

"She knew nothing about it. She wanted to pay the s.h.i.+lling for it,"

said Sophia.

The captain laughed a little.

"And she is going to search for a bit to go up there!" continued the girl more vehemently; and he laughed again.

"Yes," said Mary, "if you only saw something of her, you would be convinced that her whole character is very different from that of the rest of the family."

"Don't you be taken in by plausibility," said the captain. "I know that fellow Dan is a thief. I meant to tell his relation, George, that I won't allow him to be employed on the new schoolroom. I shall do so now."

"Would it not be better to forget what happened so long ago?" Mary ventured to say.

"And suppose Judith restores it," added Sophia.

"Pshaw!" said the captain; but Mary followed him to the study, and what she did with him there her sisters did not know, but it resulted in his allowing that Dan might have another trial, with a sharp eye over him.

So unused was Uphill to the visits of ladies, that when the piece of French paper was sold to Judith, no one had thought of her being sought out in her bedroom. Molly came home with the children in the evening, tired out but excited--for all had had rather more beer than was good for them, and the children a great many more sweets. Jem and Judy were quarrelling over a wooden horse covered with white spots, but whose mane had already disappeared, Lizzie was sick, cross, and stupid, Polly had broken the string of her new yellow necklace, and was crying about it, and n.o.body had recollected the aunt except Johnnie, who presented her with a piece of thin gingerbread representing King George the Fourth, in white, pink, and gilt! Molly herself was very tired, though she said it was all very fine, and she had seen a lot of people, and the big sleeves they wore were quite a wonder. Then she scolded Polly with all her might for crying and never setting the tea, nor boiling the kettle; and, after all, it was Johnnie who made up the fire, fetched water, and set the kettle boiling. They all wrangled together over their purchases, and the sights they had seen, or not seen, while Judith was glad to be out of the way of seeing, though not of hearing. Then the girls trailed themselves upstairs. Judy slept with her aunt, Polly and Lizzie had a kind of shake-down on a mattress of chaff or hulls, as she called it, by her side. Judith always insisted on their prayers, but they said they were much too tired to-night, and could not say anything but "Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John," which was all they knew except the Lord's Prayer.

Judith had taught them this, but they thought the repeating it a very difficult ceremony, far too hard when they were tired.

Their mother went to bed soon afterwards, taking Jem with her, and so did Johnnie, all being anxious to get what sleep they could before the dreaded moment of father's return. Public-houses were not obliged to close at any special time in those days, and the home-coming, especially on a fair day, was apt to be a terrible affair. It was not till past one o'clock that shouts, broken bursts of singing, and howls of quarrelling announced the break-up of the riotous party, and presently the door bounced open, and with oaths at the darkness, though there was bright moonlight, Dan stumbled in and staggered upstairs, overturning the unlucky screen upon Polly as he did so, cursing and swearing at them all, and ordering his wife to get up and open the door, which he was past finding. He did not attack Judith, though he almost fell over her bed, and the two girls lay trembling, not daring to lift off the screen till the door of the bedroom was shut on them; and then came the only too well-known sound of their mother scolding and crying, and his swearing and beating her.

They were only too much used to such disturbance, and were asleep again before it was over; but Judith could only lie on, shaking with terror-- not personal--but at the awful words she heard, and praying that they might not be visited on that unhappy household, but that G.o.d would forgive.

It was not till the next day when the house was tolerably quiet, and Molly, rather fretful and grumbling, had helped Judith down to her place by the fire, that she ventured the question, "Molly, you have not a bit more of that pretty wall-paper you gave me for my screen?"

"Did it get broke last night in Dan's drunken tantrums?"

"Not more than I can mend, but little Miss Sophia, she says that the paper in the Greenhow drawing-room is quite spoilt for want of a piece to cover up a bit that was put on wrong."

"My patience! And how did Miss Sophia come to know anything about it?"

"She came up to see me, and bring those cutlets that you are warming up now."

"Bless me! Well, Dan will be vexed," said Molly. "Such mean folk as they are, a-peeping and a-prying after everything! They knows how to look after whatever they chooses to say is their own; and the captain, he made a row before about that there trumpery yard or two of paper that was the parkisit of them that hung it."

"Miss Sophy says it spoilt the room."

"Sp'ilt it! They've little to vex 'em that is terrified about that!"

"But have you got the bit, Molly?"

"I never had it! Dan kept it in the outhouse. He may have a sc.r.a.p left, that he used to make caps for the Christmas boys when he used the rest to paper Mrs Hunter's closet with down at Downhill. Your piece was left over of that, and may be there was half-a-yard more; but he locks that there workshop of his, so as one can't get in to get a bit of shavings to light the fire. So you must ask him. I am sure I dare not do it. He's _that_ angry if one does but look into his shop."

"I must try and get it!" said Judith.

"Not now, I wouldn't," entreated Molly. "What is it to the ladies? And father, he will be fit to tear the place down if he hears of it! Them Gobblealls is set again him already, and 'tis just taking away our bread to say a bit more about it to them folks. George Hewlett is particular enough already, without having a work about this."

Poor Judith, she felt as if she could never be at peace with her conscience, while she had those yellow laburnums in sight in her room, and she did not see how rest.i.tution and confession could injure her brother-in-law; but her code of right and wrong was very different from that of either husband or wife.

Molly went on maundering about the hards.h.i.+p of having taken in a poor helpless thing, and having stood between her and the workhouse, only that she should turn a viper and a spy, and take her poor children's bread out of their mouths, forgetting that Jem was at the very moment eating up the piece of apple-pie that had come with the cutlets.

Judith tried to get her thoughts together, and decided that, however much she might dread Dan's anger, and care for his interest and family peace, it was her duty to do her best to recover whatever remnant was possible of his booty. So when he came home to dinner she ventured to ask him if he had a piece left of that paper of her screen.

"Why?" he asked, turning on her, as if he hoped to make more of whatever he had.