Ralph Denham's Adventures in Burma: A Tale of the Burmese Jungle Read online

  CHAPTER VI

  THE DENHAMS AT HOME

  While the _Pelican of the North_ was making this disastrous voyage,troubles had fallen thick and plenty upon the Denhams at home.

  With Ralph's departure Mrs. Denham had felt herself able to take asecond lodger. Mr. Benson, head book-keeper in the firm of Messrs.Herford Brothers, for whom Captain Rogers sailed, had lodged with herfor some years. He was a quiet retiring man, an old bachelor, who gavevery little trouble, being regular in his habits, which were simple. Heoccupied the breakfast-room, in front of the house, downstairs, and abedroom, also in front, at the top of the house.

  There was a good-sized room in the front of the house, above thebreakfast-room, originally meant for a drawing-room, and a bedroombehind it. Mrs. Denham had occupied the latter herself, hitherto, andmade a nursery of the larger apartment. These she now proposed to let;she and all the children doubling up at night in two very moderate-sizedbedrooms at the top of the house, and only retaining one parlour, thelarge dining-room on the groundfloor.

  To make the new set of apartments sufficiently comfortable toaccommodate a lodger, the best furniture from all her own part of thehouse was collected in them; they were repapered, repainted, and newcarpets and curtains bought.

  Captain Rogers had made his sister a present of money to assist her inthese arrangements, but the greatest economy was necessary to make itcover these unavoidable expenses, and those of Ralph's outfit.

  Jack and Reggie stained the floors brown; Agnes and her mother toiledover the upholstery and little adornments; all looked very nice whenfinished; but, beneath the surface, things were not comfortable. Thefamily was too much cramped for room. A lodger was quickly found, butthe work of the house was greatly increased; and the tempers of bothJack and Lisa were difficult, and caused much unpleasantness.

  Mrs. Denham was glad that it was a lady who took the rooms, for shewould not have liked either of her pretty daughters to help in waitingupon a gentleman except Mr. Benson, whom they knew so well; and, as herprofits would not allow the keeping of a second servant, it wasindispensable that they should do so.

  She superintended the cooking herself, as the maid-of-all-work was but acheap willing drudge, unequal to the preparation of any but the simplestdishes.

  Mr. Benson only dined at home on Sundays, but supper was wanted for him,or chops with a late tea. The new inmate, Miss Mason, an elderly singlelady, took all her meals in the house, dined in the middle of the day,and liked her food daintily served. It made heavy work, though comfortin the family household was sacrificed.

  Agnes had a situation as daily governess. She went to her pupils afterbreakfast, dined with them, walked with them, and did not return tillnearly five o'clock, except on Saturdays, when she came back earlier.

  Lisa was at school. She was clever and ambitious, eager to passexaminations so as to rise in the world. She was fourteen, and herstudies took up all her time.

  Jack came next to her in age; but there was a gap in the family, whereone had died between him and Reggie; and a wider one, where two had diedbetween Reggie and little Cicely, who was but three years old. The babywas nearly two, a very delicate child, a great anxiety to his mother.

  Agnes came in one evening in October. It had been a pouring wet day, andwas already growing dark, for she had a long walk to and from herpupils' residence.

  "My dear," said her mother, who sat by a mere handful of fire, with thebaby whining on her lap,--"My dear, how wet you are! You will takecold."

  "It is only outside wet, mother," said she brightly; "I will change myshoes and stockings, and soon be dry."

  "I am so sorry to ask it, dear," continued Mrs. Denham, "but Mr. Bensonhas sent up an office boy to say that he is bringing a gentleman homewith him, and could he have dinner at seven instead of tea. I had a dishof rissoles for him, which will not be enough, but there is nothing elsein the house. Would you mind stepping as far as the shops, and bringingin something which we could get ready in time?"

  "Oh no, I can run along very quickly, mamma. What shall I bring? A fowlto roast? That could be cooked best, I suppose; and a few sausages. Anyvegetables?"

  "Yes, please dear, and some coffee; he will like a cup of coffee afterdinner. And some tinned soup; there is no time to make any, and Mondayis such a bad day on which to get fish. Will you mind bringing it allback with you, for Maria is trying to finish the washing, and theshop-people are so tiresome about sending to this distance?"

  "No, mamma, I'll bring it all home."

  "And a little something for dessert, Agnes."

  "Could you not open some of that ginger which uncle brought home? I'llbring some nice biscuits."

  "A good thought, dear."

  Agnes stepped along as quickly as she could, but these errands took hera long time. The nearest poulterer had no fowls left, and the next onelived quite a mile off. The omnibuses did not help her, because only ashort part of her way lay along the main road; and her gown, which shethought safely pinned up beneath her cloak, came loose, hung down behindin a festoon, which held the rain and beat around her ankles at everystep which she took. Contending with a heavy umbrella through blusteringwind and driving rain, laden with a cumbersome basket, it was of no useto pick her way, or try to keep herself dry, so she splashed through allthe mud and puddles, and returned home, drenched, cold and wretched.

  Hurrying up to put herself into dry clothes, she found Lisa in theirbedroom, with books and papers all round her.

  "Oh, Agnes, don't put your wet gloves down there! That is my Germanpaper, just written. How wet you are! Where have you been? I have wantedyou so badly, just to hear me say these syntax rules. And do tell mewhat is the passive form of"--

  "Don't keep me now, Lisa, I am in such a hurry. Mamma wants me. Couldyou not take baby for an hour? Mr. Benson has somebody coming to dinner,and nothing is ready. There is Miss Mason's tea to be got too, and Marianot dressed, and baby poorly. Mamma is driven every way at once."

  "I can't take baby, I have heaps of lessons to do. I should lose myplace if they are not done. How can you ask me, Agnes?"

  "Well, I must run down, don't hinder me."

  "You might just stop one minute to hear me these rules."

  "I really can't, Lisa."

  "Ill-natured thing," began Lisa fretfully, but Agnes could not stay tohear her.

  Downstairs was chaos. The washtubs and wet clothes were everywhere; thetwo boys clamouring for their evening meal, and stumping about in theirdirty boots; Miss Mason was ringing for coals; Mrs. Denham had sentMaria up to dress, and was trying to prepare the fowl with the baby inher lap.

  "Jack," cried Agnes, "you might just take up some coals to Miss Mason,to help us."

  "I'm not a footboy," said Jack ill-naturedly. "Where's Maria?"

  "We are particularly busy; do help," pleaded Agnes.

  "Help yourself," said Jack rudely.

  "I am helping all I can," replied Agnes.

  "Jack," said Mrs. Denham, "do what your sister asks."

  Jack did not exactly disobey his mother, but flounced off to fetch thecoal-scuttle as sulkily as he could, and filled it with a tremendousclatter.

  "Here, Reggie, you lazy beggar, you can carry it up; you are doingnothing."

  Reggie took up the scuttle, which, being too heavy for him, upset uponthe stairs, all the coals falling down with an appalling noise anddreadful mess.

  "I'm so sorry," said he, looking frightened.

  "Butter fingers!" cried Jack contemptuously.

  Agnes set herself to sweep the stairs and hall clean, drove the boysinto the parlour and shut the door on them; then hurried to set MissMason's tea-tray, and send it up by Maria, who now appeared in her tidyapron and cap. Then she laid the cloth in Mr. Benson's room, and randown to help her mother.

  "My dear," exclaimed Mrs. Denham in dismay, "I forgot all about apudding, and I don't know what we can do!"

  "I brought some tarts in, mamma; and I thought we could toss up a sweetomelette while they are
having their soup and meat."

  "But eggs?" said Mrs. Denham in despair.

  "I bought six pennyworth."

  "What should I do without you, love?" sighed her mother.

  By dint of great exertion the little dinner was cooked, and served toMr. Benson's satisfaction. He, manlike, had not the slightest idea ofthe difficulties which had beset his obliging landlady; or that, thoughthe hunger of Lisa and the boys had been assuaged with thick bread andbutter in the intervals of work, Mrs. Denham and Agnes had not been ableto spare time for food, and were sinking for want of it at nine o'clock.

  "You must have a nice cup of coffee now, mamma," said Agnes. "I madeenough when I sent it up to the gentlemen. And here is a bit of fowlwhich I slipped into the oven to keep hot."

  "You must take some too, Agnes."

  "I'll have mine when I come down. Cicely has never been put to bed, sheis asleep on the parlour floor."

  She set her mother down by the kitchen fire to take her supper, andcarried off the baby, now asleep, as well as the little girl.

  Coming down from putting them to bed, she remembered that Miss Mason'stea-tray had never been removed, and stepped in to take it down.

  "I am so sorry," said she, "that you should have been neglected, MissMason. Mr. Benson has company, and gave us very short notice of what hewanted, so we have been rather busy."

  "My dear," said the kind-hearted Miss Mason, "you look fit to drop."

  "I'm rather tired," said Agnes; "but I am going to have some suppernow."

  But before she sat down to it a telegram from the office was brought in.

  "Something's wrong, miss," said Maria, seeking Agnes. "Mr. Benson, heguv' a sort of a screech when he read it,--nasty thing,--and he says,says he, 'Send Miss Denham to me,' says he. I can't think why folks evergo sending them ugly yellow telegrams about, frightening people."

  Agnes did not listen to this tirade, she never imagined that a telegramfor Mr. Benson could affect her. Strangely enough she did not think ofRalph, she was so tired, and her evening had been so full of pressingtrivialities.

  But upon her entering Mr. Benson's room, that gentleman came towardsher, telegram in hand, looking so full of sorrowful compassion that acold thrill ran through her at once.

  "What is it, sir?" she faltered.

  "My dear young lady, there is some very sad news come. I want you tohelp me in breaking it to your poor mother. I am deeply grieved to tellyou that the _Pelican of the North_ has been burnt at sea."

  "Oh, Mr. Benson! And Ralph?"

  Her white lips could hardly utter the words.

  "The crew and passengers left her safely, but the boat in which Ralphwas is missing."

  Agnes swayed, turned deathly sick, felt as if she were going blind,caught hold of the nearest support, missed it, and sank upon the floorinsensible.

  Neither Mr. Benson nor his friend had ever seen a girl faint before,and were terribly frightened. They tore the bell down in theiragitation; they called for help in tones which brought everyone aroundthem in consternation; nobody had their wits at command except MissMason.

  "Go downstairs, Lisa," she commanded. "Take away the boys. Maria, godownstairs; Miss Denham has only fainted, her mother and I are enough tohelp her."

  She assisted Mrs. Denham to lay the poor girl flat, to loosen her dressand sprinkle her face with water, as she spoke. She fetched salts; andwhen consciousness returned, she directed the gentlemen to carry her upto her own bed.

  None of them, for the moment, thought of asking what had caused theswoon. Mrs. Denham naturally considered it the result of over-exertion,and the wetting which Agnes had undergone; she was much concerned, butnot alarmed.

  Miss Mason, not knowing of these predisposing causes, and seeing thetelegram in Mr. Benson's hand, guessed more. She was also much struckwith the lack of comfort in the scantily-furnished bedroom, crowded withtwo beds, and littered with Lisa's books in every direction.

  Leaving her mother to undress Agnes, she went downstairs with thegentlemen, and, entering Mr. Benson's parlour, she closed the door andasked--

  "What caused this sudden faintness, Mr. Benson? Had that telegramanything to do with it?"

  "Indeed, I am sorry to say that it had, ma'am," and Mr. Benson handed itto the old lady.

  "Humph!" said she. "If you had any sense you would have sent for me, notthat poor girl."

  "I'm awfully sorry," stammered out Mr. Benson, while his friend couldhardly repress a smile at witnessing the autocrat of "Herford Brothers,"before whom twenty clerks trembled when he frowned, being scolded andscorned by a neat little woman in a shabby silk gown and white curls.

  There was wine on the table.

  "Before you half kill the mother, as well as the daughter, you hadbetter bring her down here and give her a glass of that sherry if it isdecent wine," proceeded Miss Mason.

  "It is, ma'am,--it is very fair sherry," said the crestfallen Mr.Benson. "You don't think that she will faint too, do you?"

  Miss Mason's only answer was, "I will fetch her myself," and she walkedoff.

  Mrs. Denham did not faint, but it was a most distressing scene, and MissMason took command of the whole family.