Consequences. E. M. Delafield
Cedric had to make his way through rustling skirts and an occasional pair of black trousers to the big stone basin of holy water. Into this, standing on tiptoe with immense difficulty, he plunged as much of his hand as was necessary to satisfy the sharp inspection of Nurse when he returned, proffering dripping fingers to her and to his sisters.
The last perfunctory sign of the cross made then, the worst of Sunday, in Alex's opinion, was over.
Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for dinner was pleasant. Mademoiselle did not come in the afternoon, and Nurse generally went out and left Emily in charge. In the summer she took the children to sit in the Square garden – the Park on Sundays was not allowed – and in the winter they always walked as far as the Albert Memorial, for which Cedric entertained a great admiration.
Sunday was Lady Isabel's At Home day and the children, except during the season, always went down to the drawing-room after tea, Alex and Barbara in pale, rose-coloured frocks with innumerable frills at throat and wrists, and a small pad fastened under each skirt so that it might stand well out at the back. Cedric, like most other little boys of his age and standing, was forced to wear a Lord Fauntleroy suit, from which his cropped bullet head and spectacles emerged incongruously.
The half-hour in the drawing-room was not enjoyed by the others as it was by Alex, especially if there were many visitors. She would lean against Lady Isabel confidently, and hear people say how like she was to her mother, which always delighted her. Her mother looked so pretty, sitting on the sofa with her fringe beautifully curled and a lovely dress that was half a teagown, the tight bodice coming down into a sharp point in front and behind, and the skirt falling into long folds, with a train sweeping the ground, and huge loops and bows of soft ribbon draping it cross-wise.
Barbara was incurably shy, and poked her head when she was spoken to, but very few people took as much notice of her as of talkative Alex or pretty little Archie, who was all blue ribbons and fearless smiles. And before very long Lady Isabel was sure to say:
"Now, you'd better run back to the nursery, hadn't you, darlings? or Nurse will be comin' down in search of you. I've got the most invaluable old dragon for them," she generally added to her friends. "She's been with us since Alex was a baby, and rules the whole house."
"Oh, don't send them away!" one of the visiting ladies would exclaim politely. "Such darlings!"
"Oh, but I must! Their father won't hear of my spoilin' them. Now run along, infants."
Cedric and Barbara were only too ready to obey, though it was understood that Lady Isabel's "run along" only meant a very ceremonious departure from the room, Barbara taking little Archie by the hand and leading him to the door, where they both dropped the obeisance considered "picturesque," and Cedric making an unwilling progress to execute his carefully practised bow before each one of the ladies scattered about the big room.
If Alex, however, was enjoying herself, and getting the notice that her soul loved, she always said in a pleading whisper, loud enough to be heard by two or three people besides her mother:
"Oh, do let me stay with you a little longer, mummy. Don't send me upstairs yet!"
"How sweet! Do let her stay, dear Lady Isabel."
"You mustn't encourage me to spoil her. She ought to go up with the others."
"Just for this once, mummy."
"Well, just for this once, perhaps. After all," said Lady Isabel apologetically, "she is the eldest. She'll be comin' out before I know where I am!"
And Alex would enjoy the privilege of being the eldest, and sit beside her mother, listening to the conversation, and sometimes joining in with remarks that she thought might be acclaimed as amusing or original, or even merely precocious. No wonder that the nursery greeted her return with disdain. Even Emily called her "drawing-room child," and by her contempt brought Alex' ready tears of mortified vanity to the surface. But it was much worse on the rare Sunday afternoons when Nurse was in, when she would greatly resent the slight to Barbara if she was sent up from the drawing-room before her sister.
"Working on your mamma to spoil you like that, just because you're a couple of years older!" Nurse would say, pulling the comb fiercely through Alex' hair as she went to bed.
"I'm three whole years older."
"Don't you contradict me like that, Alex. I'm not going to have any showing-off up here, I can tell you. You can keep those airs and graces for your mamma's friends in the drawing-room."
Alex generally went to bed in tears.
If Nurse had not been scolding her, then Barbara had been quarrelling with her. They always quarrelled whenever Barbara ventured to differ from Alex and take up an attitude of her own, or still more when Barbara and Cedric made an alliance together and excluded Alex's autocratic ruling of their games.
"But it is for your good," she would tell them passionately. "I want to show you a better way. It'll be much more fun if you do it my way – you'll see."
But they did not want to see.
Their obstinacy always brought to Alex the same sense of incredulous, resentful fury. How could they not want to be shown the best way of doing things, when she knew it and they didn't? And, of course, she always did know it. Was she not the eldest?
It was not till Alex was almost thirteen that her belief in her own infallibility as eldest received a rude shock.
She nearly killed Barbara.
It was the first week of August, and Sir Francis and Lady Isabel had gone to Scotland. The children were going to the sea with Nurse on the following day, and took advantage of her state of excitement over the packing, and the emptiness of the downstair rooms, to play at circus on the stairs. Emily only said, "Now don't go hurting yourselves, whatever you do, or there'll be no seaside tomorrow," and then went back to amuse Pamela, who was crying and restless from the heat.
"I'll tell you what!" said Alex. "We'll have tight-rope dancing. I'm tired of learned pigs and things like that – " This last impersonation having been perseveringly rendered by Cedric with much shuffling and snorting over a pack of cards.
"Give me the skipping-rope, Barbara."
"Why?" said Barbara, whining.
"Because I say so," replied her sister, stamping her foot. "I've got an idea."
"It's my skipping-rope."
"But if you don't give it to me we can't have the tight-rope dancing," said Alex in despair.
"I don't care. Why should you do tight-rope dancing with my skipping-rope?"
"You shall do it first – you shall do it all yourself, if you'll only let me show you," Alex cried in an agony of impatience.
On this inducement Barbara slowly parted with her skipping-rope, and let Alex knot it hastily and insecurely to the newel post on the first landing above the hall.
"Now just get up on to the post, Barbara, and I'll hold the other end of the rope like this, and you'll see – "
"But I can't, I should fall off."
"Don't be such a little muff; I'll hold you on."
"No, no – I'm frightened. Let Cedric do it."
"No," said Cedric. "I'm being a learned pig." He went down the short flight of stairs and sat firmly down upon the tiled floor with the pack of cards out-spread before him.
"Now come on, Barbara," Alex commanded her; "I'll hold you."
Between hoisting and pulling and Barbara's own dread of disobeying her, Alex got her sister into a kneeling position on the broad flat top of the newel post.
"Now stand up, and then I'll hold out the rope. You'll be the famous tight-rope dancer crossing the Falls of Niagara."
"Alex, I'm frightened."
"What of, silly? If you did fall it's only a little way on to the stairs, and I'll catch you. Besides, you'll feel much safer when you're standing up."
Barbara, facing the stairs, and with her back to the alarming void between her perch and the hall-floor, rose trembling