The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. VIII, No. 361, November 27, 1886

My mistress (how I loved to call her by that name!) was beginning to give me her confidence. In a little while I grew quite at my ease with her.

She would sit down sometimes and question me about the book I was reading, or, if we talked of the children, she would ask my opinion of them in a way that showed she respected it.

She told me more than once that her husband was quite satisfied with me; the children thrived under my care, Reggie especially, for Joyce was somewhat frail and delicate. It gratified me to hear this, for a longer acquaintance with Mr. Morton had not lessened my sense of awe in his presence (I had had to feel the pressure of his strong will before I had been many weeks in his house, and though I had submitted to his enforced commands, they had cost me my only tears of humiliation, and yet all the time I knew he was perfectly just in his demands). The occasion was this.

It was a rule that when visitors asked to see the children, a very frequent occurrence when Mrs. Morton received at home, that the head nurse should bring them into the blue drawing-room, as it was called. On two afternoons I had shirked this duty. With all my boasted courage, the idea of facing all those strangers was singularly obnoxious; I chose to consider myself privileged to infringe this part of my office. I dressed the children carefully, and bade Hannah take them to their mother. I thought the girl looked at me and hesitated a moment, but her habitual respect kept her silent.

My dereliction of duty escaped notice on the first afternoon; Mr. Morton was occupied with a committee, and Mrs. Morton was too gentle and considerate to hint that my presence was desired, but on the second afternoon Hannah came up looking a little flurried.

Master had not seemed pleased somehow; he had spoken quite sharply before the visitors, and asked where nurse was that she had not brought the children as usual, and the mistress had looked uncomfortable, and had beckoned him to her.

I took no notice of Hannah’s speech, for I had a hasty tongue, and might have said things that I should have regretted afterwards, but my temper was decidedly ruffled. I took Reggie as quickly as possible from her arms, and carried him off into the other room. I wanted to be alone and recover myself.

I cried a good deal, much to Reggie’s distress; he kept patting my cheeks and calling to me to kiss him, that at last I was obliged to leave off. I had met with a difficulty at last. I could hear the roaring of the chained lions behind me, but I said to myself that I would not be beaten; if my pride must suffer I should get over the unpleasantness in time. Why should I be afraid of people just because they wore silks and satins and were strangers to me? My fears were undignified and absurd; Mr. Morton was right; I had shirked my duty.

I hoped that nothing more would be said about it, and I determined that the following Thursday I would face the ordeal; but I was not to escape so easily.

When Mrs. Morton came into the nursery that evening to bid the children good-night, I thought she looked a little preoccupied. She kissed them, and asked me, rather nervously, to follow her into the night nursery.

“Merle,” she said, rather hurriedly, “I hope you will not mind what I am going to say. My husband has asked me to speak to you. He seemed a little put out this afternoon; it did not please him that Hannah should take your place with the children.”

“Hannah told me so when she came up, Mrs. Morton.”

In spite of all my efforts to restrain my temper, I am afraid my voice was a little sullen. I had never answered her in such a tone before. I would obey Mr. Morton; I knew my own position well enough for that, but they should both see that this part of my duty was distasteful to me.

To my intense surprise she took my hand and held it gently.

“I was afraid you would feel it in this way, Merle, but I want you to look upon it in another point of view. You know that my husband forewarned you that your position would entail difficulties. Hitherto things have been quite smooth; now comes a duty which you own by your manner to be bitterly distasteful. I sympathise with you, but my husband’s wishes are sacred; he is very particular on this point. Do you think for my sake that you could yield in this?”

She still held my hand, and I own that the foolish feeling crossed me that I was glad that she should know my hand was as soft as hers, but as she spoke to me in that beseeching voice all sullenness left me.

“There is very little that I would not do for your sake, Mrs. Morton, when you have been so good to me. Please do not say another word about it. Mr. Morton was right; I have been utterly in the wrong; I feel that now. Next Thursday I will bring down the children into the drawing-room.”

She thanked me so warmly that she made me feel still more ashamed of myself; it seemed such a wonderful thing that my mistress should stoop to entreat where she could by right command, but she was very tolerant of a girl’s waywardness. She did not leave me even then, but changed the subject. She sat down and talked to me for a few minutes about myself and Aunt Agatha. I had not been home yet, and she wanted me to fix some afternoon when Mrs. Garnett or Travers could take my place.

“We must not let you get too dull, Merle,” she said, gently. “Hannah is a good girl, but she cannot be a companion to you in any sense of the word.” And perhaps in that she was right.

I woke the following Thursday with a sense of uneasiness oppressing me, so largely do our small fears magnify themselves when indulged. As the afternoon approached I grew quite pale with apprehension, and Hannah, with unspoken sympathy, but she had wonderful tact for a girl, only hinted at the matter in a roundabout way.

I had dressed Reggie in his turquoise blue velvet, and was fastening my clean frilled apron over my black gown, when Hannah said quietly, “Well, it is no wonder master likes to show people what sort of nurse he has got. I don’t think anyone could look so nice in a cap and apron as you do, Miss Fenton. It is just as though you were making believe to be a servant like me, and it would not do anyhow.”

I smiled a little at Hannah’s homely compliment, but I confessed it pleased me and gave me courage. I felt still more like myself when my boy put his dimpled arms round my neck, and hid his dear face on my shoulder. I could not persuade him to loosen his hold until his mother spoke to him, and there was Joyce holding tightly to my gown all the time.

The room was so full that it almost made me giddy. It was good of Mrs. Morton to rise from her seat and meet me, but all her coaxing speeches would not make Reggie do more than raise his head from my shoulder. He sat in my arms like a baby prince, beating off everyone with his little hands, and refusing even to go to his father.

Everyone wanted to kiss him, and I carried him from one to another. Joyce had left me at once for her mother. Some of the ladies questioned me about the children. They spoke very civilly, but their inquisitive glances made my face burn, and it was with difficulty that I made suitable replies. Once I looked up, and saw that Mr. Morton was watching me. His glance was critical, but not unkindly. I had a feeling then that he was subjecting me purposely to this test. I must carry out my theory into practice. I am convinced all this was in his mind as he looked at me, and I no longer bore a grudge against him.

Not long afterwards I had an opportunity of learning that he could own himself fallible on some points. He was exceedingly just, and could bear a rebuke even from an inferior, if it proved him to be clearly in the wrong.

One afternoon he came into the nursery to play with the children for a few minutes. He would wind up their mechanical toys to amuse them. Reggie was unusually fretful, and nothing seemed to please him. He scolded both his father and his walking doll, and would have nothing to say to the learned dog who beat the timbrels and nodded his head approvingly to his own music. Presently he caught sight of his favourite woolly lamb placed out of his reach on the mantelpiece, and began screaming and kicking.

“Naughty Reggie,” observed his father, complacently, and he was taking down the toy when I begged him respectfully to replace it.

He looked at me in some little surprise.

“I thought he was crying for it,” he said, somewhat perplexed at this.

“Reggie must not cry for things after that fashion,” I returned, firmly, for I felt a serious principle was involved here. “He is only a baby, but he is very sensible, and knows he is naughty when he screams for a thing. I never give it to him until he is good.”

“Indeed,” a little dryly. “Well, he seems far off from goodness now. What do you mean by making all that noise, my boy?”

Reggie was in one of his passions, it was easy to see that; the toy would have been flung to the ground in his present mood; so without looking at his father or asking his permission, I resorted to my usual method, and laid him down screaming lustily in his little cot.

“There baby must stop until he is good,” I remarked, quietly, and I took my work and sat down at some little distance, while Mr. Morton watched us from the other room. I knew my plan always answered with Reggie, and the storm would soon be over.

In two or three minutes his screams ceased, and I heard a penitent “Gargle do;” then “Nur, nur.” I went to him directly, and in a moment he held out his arms to be lifted out of the cot.

“Is Reggie quite good?” I asked, as I kissed him.

“Ood, ood,” was the triumphant reply, and the next moment he was cuddling his lamb.

“I own your method is the best, nurse,” observed Mr. Morton, pleasantly. “My boy will not be spoiled, I see that. I confess I should have given him the toy directly he screamed for it; you showed greater wisdom than his father.”

It is impossible to say how much this speech gratified me. From that moment I liked as well as respected Mr. Morton.

My first holiday arrived somewhat unexpectedly. A little before the nursery dinner Travers brought a message from Mrs. Morton that Joyce was to go out with her in the carriage, and that if I liked to have the afternoon and evening to myself, Mrs. Garnett could take charge of Reggie.

The offer was too tempting to be refused. I do not think I ever knew the meaning of the word holiday before. No schoolgirl felt in greater spirits than I did during dinner time.