Country life -- England -- Fiction; England -- Fiction; Family life -- Fiction; Railroads -- Fiction; Siblings -- Fiction
“You drop it if you please,” said the Porter, indignantly. “I wasn't
thinking about no tuppences. I only wanted to say I was sorry your Mamma
wasn't so well, and to ask how she finds herself this evening--and
I've fetched her along a bit of sweetbrier, very sweet to smell it is.
Twopence indeed,” said he, and produced a bunch of sweetbrier from his
hat, “just like a conjurer,” as Phyllis remarked afterwards.
“Thank you very much,” said Peter, “and I beg your pardon about the
twopence.”
“No offence,” said the Porter, untruly but politely, and went.
Then the children undid the hamper. First there was straw, and then
there were fine shavings, and then came all the things they had asked
for, and plenty of them, and then a good many things they had not asked
for; among others peaches and port wine and two chickens, a cardboard
box of big red roses with long stalks, and a tall thin green bottle
of lavender water, and three smaller fatter bottles of eau-de-Cologne.
There was a letter, too.
“Dear Roberta and Phyllis and Peter,” it said; “here are the things you
want. Your mother will want to know where they came from. Tell her they
were sent by a friend who heard she was ill. When she is well again you
must tell her all about it, of course. And if she says you ought not to
have asked for the things, tell her that I say you were quite right,
and that I hope she will forgive me for taking the liberty of allowing
myself a very great pleasure.”
The letter was signed G. P. something that the children couldn't read.
“I think we WERE right,” said Phyllis.
“Right? Of course we were right,” said Bobbie.
“All the same,” said Peter, with his hands in his pockets, “I don't
exactly look forward to telling Mother the whole truth about it.”
“We're not to do it till she's well,” said Bobbie, “and when she's well
we shall be so happy we shan't mind a little fuss like that. Oh, just
look at the roses! I must take them up to her.”
“And the sweetbrier,” said Phyllis, sniffing it loudly; “don't forget
the sweetbrier.”
“As if I should!” said Roberta. “Mother told me the other day there was
a thick hedge of it at her mother's house when she was a little girl.”
Chapter IV. The engine-burglar.
What was left of the second sheet and the Brunswick black came in very
nicely to make a banner bearing the legend
SHE IS NEARLY WELL THANK YOU
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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