Two Little Waifs

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Molesworth Mrs.. Two Little Waifs

CHAPTER I. PAPA HAS SENT FOR US

CHAPTER II. POOR MRS. LACY

CHAPTER III. A PRETTY KETTLE OF FISH

CHAPTER IV "WHAT IS TO BE DONE?"

CHAPTER V. IN THE RUE VERTE

CHAPTER VI. AMONG THE SOFAS AND CHAIRS

CHAPTER VII. THE KIND-LOOKING GENTLEMAN

CHAPTER VIII. A FALL DOWNSTAIRS

CHAPTER IX. FROM BAD TO WORSE

CHAPTER X "AVENUE GÉRARD, No. 9."

CHAPTER XI. WALTER'S TEA-PARTY

CHAPTER XII. PAPA AT LAST

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Saturday brought the expected letter, which both Mrs. Lacy and Susan anxiously expected, though with different feelings. Susan hoped that nothing would interfere with the plan she had made for the children's leaving; Mrs. Lacy, even though she owned that it seemed a good plan, could not help wishing that something would happen to defer the parting with the two little creatures whom she had learnt to love as much as if they had been her own grandchildren.

But the letter was all in favour of Susan's ideas. Captain Bertram wrote much more decidedly than he had done before. He named the date at which he was leaving, a very few days after his letter, the date at which he expected to be at Marseilles, and went on to say that if Mrs. Lacy could possibly arrange to have the children taken over to Paris within a certain time, he would undertake to meet them there at any hour of any day of the week she named. The sooner the better for him, he said, as he would be anxious to get back to the south and settle himself there for the winter, the doctor having warned him to run no risks in exposing himself to cold, though with care he quite hoped to be all right again by the spring. As to a maid for the children – Mrs. Lacy having told him that they had had no regular nurse for some time – he thought it would be a good plan to have a French one, and as he had friends in Paris who understood very well about such things he would look out for one immediately he got there, if Mrs. Lacy could find one to take them over and stay a few days, or if she, perhaps, could spare one of her servants for the time. And he begged her, when she had made her plans, to telegraph, or write if there were time, to him at a certain hotel at Marseilles, "to wait his arrival."

.....

"Go and wash your hands quick, Roger," she said, "for we must go downstairs. Mine are quite clean, but your middle fingers are all over ink."

"Washing doesn't take it away," said Roger reluctantly. There were not many excuses he would have hesitated to use to avoid washing his hands!

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