The Carpenters Daughter | Page 9

will be here. Go
on, child! and get your work done."
There were no preparations for dinner, and Nettie was at a loss; and did
not like to say anything for fear of bringing on a storm. Her mother
looked both weary and out of temper. The kettle was boiling,--the only
thing about the room that had a pleasant seeming.

"Will you have a cup of tea, father?" said Nettie.
"Anything you like--yes, a cup of tea will do; and hark'ye, child, I want
a good stout supper got this afternoon. Your mother don't choose to
hear me. Mr. Lumber is coming, and I want a good supper to make him
think he's got to the right place. Do you hear, Nettie?"
"Yes, father."
Nettie went on to do the best she could. She warmed the remains of last
night's porridge and gave it to Barry with treacle, to keep him quiet.
Meanwhile she had made the tea, and toasted a slice of bread very
nicely, though with great pains, for the fire wasn't good; and the toast
and a cup of tea she gave to her father. He eat it with an eagerness
which let Nettie know she must make another slice as fast as possible.
"Hollo! Nettie--I say, give us some of that, will you?" said Barry,
finding his porridge poor in taste.
"Barry, there isn't bread enough--I can't," whispered Nettie. "We've got
to keep a loaf for supper."
"Eat what you've got, or let it alone!" thundered Mr. Mathieson, in the
way he had when he was out of patience, and which always tried Nettie
exceedingly.
"She's got more," said Barry. "She's toasting two pieces this minute. I
want one."
"I'll knock you over, if you say another word," said his father. Nettie
was frightened, for she saw he meant to have the whole, and she had
destined a bit for her mother. However, when she gave her father his
second slice, she ventured, and took the other with a cup of tea to the
forlorn figure on the other side of the stove. Mrs. Mathieson took only
the tea. But Mr. Mathieson's ire was roused afresh. Perhaps toast and
tea didn't agree with him.
"Have you got all ready for Mr. Lumber?" he said, in a tone of voice

very unwilling to be pleased.
"No," said his wife,--"I have had no chance. I have been cooking and
clearing up all the morning. His room isn't ready."
"Well, you had better get it ready pretty quick. What's to do?"
"Everything's to do," said Mrs. Mathieson.
He swore at her. "Why can't you answer a plain question? I say, what's
to do?"
"There's all Nettie's things in the room at present. They are all to move
up stairs, and the red bedstead to bring down."
"No, mother," said Nettie, gently,--"all my things are up stairs
already;--there's only the cot and the bed, that I couldn't move."
Mrs. Mathieson gave no outward sign of the mixed feeling of pain and
pleasure that shot through her heart. Pleasure at her child's thoughtful
love, pain that she should have to show it in such a way.
"When did you do it, Nettie?"
"This morning before breakfast, mother. It's all ready, father, if you or
Barry would take up my cot and the bed, and bring down the other
bedstead. It's too heavy for me."
"That's what I call doing business and having some spirit," said her
father. "Not sitting and letting your work come to you. Here, Nettie--I'll
do the rest for you."
Nettie ran with him to show him what was wanted; and Mr.
Mathieson's strong arms had it all done very quickly. Nettie eagerly
thanked him; and then seeing him in good-humour with her, she
ventured something more.
"Mother's very tired to-day, father," she whispered; "she'll feel better by
and by if she has a little rest. Do you think you would mind helping me

put up this bedstead?"
"Well, here goes!" said Mr. Mathieson. "Which piece belongs here, to
begin with?"
Nettie did not know much better than he; but putting not only her
whole mind but also her whole heart into it, she managed to find out
and direct him successfully. Her part was hard work; she had to stand
holding up the heavy end of the bedstead while her father fitted in the
long pieces; and then she helped him to lace the cords, which had to be
drawn very tight; and precious time was running away fast, and Nettie
had had no dinner. But she stood patiently, with a thought in her heart
which kept her in peace all the while. When it was done, Mr.
Mathieson went out; and Nettie returned to her mother. She was sitting
where she had left her. Barry was gone.
"Mother, wont