Part 29 (1/2)
”Bless her, she _shan't_ go the workhouse!” declared Diana, kissing the small fist that clung round her finger.
There was a wild idea among the girls that the foundling might be kept as a ”school baby”.
”We're taught gardening, and poultry-keeping, and bee-keeping,” said Wendy quite seriously, ”so why not the care of children? We could learn to bathe her, and mix her bottle, and do heaps of things for her.”
Miss Todd, however, thought otherwise. Theoretical hygiene of infants was all very well as part of the curriculum, but the practical side of it was disturbing to the school. Miss Chadwick had other duties besides that of nursing a baby. Rows of plants needed attention, and young chickens claimed her care.
”If the mother gets a heavy sentence,” said Miss Todd, ”I think the child would be received into a 'Home for Dest.i.tute Children'. In the meantime----”
”_Not_ the workhouse!” pleaded Diana. ”Isn't there anybody in the village who'd take her in?”
”Mrs. Jones would have her, but she would charge twelve and sixpence a week; n.o.body will take in a baby for less now.”
”What's that in dollars? About three, isn't it? Dad will fix that up easily. I'll write to him to-night. It's as good as settled.”
”Diana,” said Miss Todd emphatically, ”I shall _not_ allow you to write to your father and ask him for anything more. If you care to give up your pocket-money for the baby's sake that's another matter; but you're getting into a bad habit of expecting your father to pay for every whim that comes into your head. It's cheap charity to suggest something that's to cost _you_ nothing. You want to have all the credit of the generosity at your father's expense.”
Diana flushed up to her hair, and down over her neck.
”Do you think me a slacker?” she asked.
”Yes; in this respect I certainly do. If you were prepared to deny yourself anything it would be different, but you're not. You like to call the child _your_ foundling, but personally you've done nothing for her. It's Miss Chadwick who's had the wakeful nights.”
Diana did not urge in self-defence that she would willingly have taken the baby to bed with her if she had been allowed; she knew it was useless to offer arguments or excuses. She was busy thinking. Miss Todd's reproaches stung her like a whip. She would let the school see that she was not the pampered, spoilt darling that they imagined. On that score she was determined. Sacrifices! She was quite prepared to make sacrifices if they were necessary. n.o.body should again have the chance of telling her that she did her generosity at other people's expense. An idea swept through her mind, and she set her teeth.
”Does it cost more than twelve and six a week to keep Lady?” she asked.
”Considerably more; though I don't suppose you've ever concerned yourself about the cost,” returned Miss Todd sarcastically.
”Might I hand Lady over to the school for the rest of the term, then, and pay for the baby instead? I'd square it up with Father. He wouldn't mind about the riding when I explained.”
Miss Todd looked Diana squarely in the face. Pupil and mistress met each other's eyes. The Princ.i.p.al's voice softened when she spoke.
”Yes; if you like to do this, Diana, I could arrange it. We want another school pony. You could take your turn with Lady once a week, the same as the other girls. By the end of the term we should know whether the 'Home' would receive the baby. Meantime, Mrs. Jones would take good care of her.”
”Then I guess it's fixed,” said Diana rather hoa.r.s.ely.
CHAPTER XIX
Ambitions
The poor little foundling, pending her mother's trial at the a.s.sizes, was boarded out in the village with Mrs. Jones, and Diana had permission to see her twice a week. Miss Todd communicated with the ”Home for Dest.i.tute Children”, and received the reply that, should the mother be convicted, as seemed only too probable, they would be ready to receive the baby, and would apply to the judge for an order for entire charge, so that it should not be claimed and taken away to a possibly criminal life when the mother's term of penal servitude was over.
For the present, therefore, there was nothing more to be done except take an interest in their protegee. Diana set to work to make her a dress--a really heroic effort, for she hated sewing--and sat st.i.tching at it on those afternoons when the other girls were riding Lady. It was typical of Diana that she would not discuss her arrangement about the pony with anybody, not even Wendy.
”I've done it for reasons of my own, and that's enough!” she said rather crossly. ”You've no need to thank me--it wasn't particularly to please _you_! I suppose I can do as I like!”
”Of course you _can_, but you needn't flare up so!” retorted Sadie.
”_Most_ people would _expect_ to be thanked. What a queer girl you are, Diana!”