Irma, who was not in awe of Harriet, danced round the table, reading as she did so, "View of the superb city of Monteriano--from your lital brother."Stupid Harriet caught her, boxed her ears, and tore the post-card into fragments.Irma howled with pain, and began shouting indignantly, "Who is my little brother? Why have I never heard of him before? Grandmamma! Grandmamma! Who is my little brother? Who is my--"Mrs.Herriton swept into the room, saying, "Come with me, dear, and I will tell you.Now it is time for you to know."Irma returned from the interview sobbing, though, as a matter of fact, she had learnt very little.But that little took hold of her imagination.She had promised secrecy--she knew not why.But what harm in talking of the little brother to those who had heard of him already?
"Aunt Harriet!" she would say."Uncle Phil!
Grandmamma! What do you suppose my little brother is doing now?
Has he begun to play? Do Italian babies talk sooner than us, or would he be an English baby born abroad? Oh, I do long to see him, and be the first to teach him the Ten Commandments and the Catechi**."The last remark always made Harriet look grave.
"Really," exclaimed Mrs.Herriton, "Irma is getting too tiresome.She forgot poor Lilia soon enough.""A living brother is more to her than a dead mother,"said Philip dreamily."She can knit him socks.""I stopped that.She is bringing him in everywhere.
It is most vexatious.The other night she asked if she might include him in the people she mentions specially in her prayers.""What did you say?"
"Of course I allowed her," she replied coldly.
"She has a right to mention any one she chooses.But I was annoyed with her this morning, and I fear that I showed it.""And what happened this morning?"
"She asked if she could pray for her 'new father'--for the Italian!""Did you let her?"
"I got up without saying anything."
"You must have felt just as you did when I wanted to pray for the devil.""He is the devil," cried Harriet.
"No, Harriet; he is too vulgar."
"I will thank you not to scoff against religion!"was Harriet's retort."Think of that poor baby.Irma is right to pray for him.What an entrance into life for an English child!""My dear sister, I can reassure you.Firstly, the beastly baby is Italian.Secondly, it was promptly christened at Santa Deodata's, and a powerful combination of saints watch over--""Don't, dear.And, Harriet, don't be so serious--Imean not so serious when you are with Irma.She will be worse than ever if she thinks we have something to hide."Harriet's conscience could be quite as tiresome as Philip's unconventionality.Mrs.Herriton soon made it easy for her daughter to go for six weeks to the Tirol.Then she and Philip began to grapple with Irma alone.
Just as they had got things a little quiet the beastly baby sent another picture post-card--a comic one, not particularly proper.
Irma received it while they were out, and all the trouble began again.
"I cannot think," said Mrs.Herriton, "what his motive is in sending them."Two years before, Philip would have said that the motive was to give pleasure.Now he, like his mother, tried to think of something sinister and subtle.
"Do you suppose that he guesses the situation--how anxious we are to hush the scandal up?""That is quite possible.He knows that Irma will worry us about the baby.Perhaps he hopes that we shall adopt it to quiet her.""Hopeful indeed."
"At the same time he has the chance of corrupting the child's morals." She unlocked a drawer, took out the post-card, and regarded it gravely."He entreats her to send the baby one,"was her next remark.
"She might do it too!"
"I told her not to; but we must watch her carefully, without, of course, appearing to be suspicious."Philip was getting to enjoy his mother's diplomacy.
He did not think of his own morals and behaviour any more.
"Who's to watch her at school, though? She may bubble out any moment.""We can but trust to our influence," said Mrs.Herriton.
Irma did bubble out, that very day.She was proof against a single post-card, not against two.A new little brother is a valuable sentimental asset to a school-girl, and her school was then passing through an acute phase of baby-worship.Happy the girl who had her quiver full of them, who kissed them when she left home in the morning, who had the right to extricate them from mail-carts in the interval, who dangled them at tea ere they retired to rest! That one might sing the unwritten song of Miriam, blessed above all school-girls, who was allowed to hide her baby brother in a squashy place, where none but herself could find him!
How could Irma keep silent when pretentious girls spoke of baby cousins and baby visitors--she who had a baby brother, who wrote her post-cards through his dear papa? She had promised not to tell about him--she knew not why--and she told.And one girl told another, and one girl told her mother, and the thing was out.
"Yes, it is all very sad," Mrs.Herriton kept saying.
"My daughter-in-law made a very unhappy marriage, as I dare say you know.
I suppose that the child will be educated in Italy.Possibly his grandmother may be doing something, but I have not heard of it.Ido not expect that she will have him over.She disapproves of the father.It is altogether a painful business for her."She was careful only to scold Irma for disobedience--that eighth deadly sin, so convenient to parents and guardians.Harriet would have plunged into needless explanations and abuse.The child was ashamed, and talked about the baby less.The end of the school year was at hand, and she hoped to get another prize.But she also had put her hand to the wheel.
It was several days before they saw Miss Abbott.
