Read Online Parents and Children by Ivy Compton-Burnett - Free Book Online Page A

strain.
    â€˜Why is he to have tea in the nursery?’ said Miss Mitford, as the door closed.
    â€˜The tea there is earlier than ours,’ said Venice.
    â€˜Mother hasn’t a favourite in this room,’ said Isabel.
    â€˜I somehow feel it is not me,’ said Miss Mitford. ‘And my instinct is generally right in those ways.’
    â€˜I don’t want to be one of her favoured ones,’ said Venice, who had a familiar sense of meeting too little esteem.
    â€˜She only likes two people in the house, Daniel and Gavin,’ said Isabel.
    â€˜And I like so many,’ said Miss Mitford. ‘I must have a more affectionate nature.’
    â€˜She likes Father and Luce,’ said James, just looking up from his book.
    â€˜That is true,’ said Miss Mitford, ‘I hope it is the history book that you are reading, James.’
    â€˜Yes,’ said James, who was perusing a more human portion of this volume, indeed an intensely human one, as it dealt with the elaborate execution of a familiar character. When any trouble or constraint was over, he allowed it to drift from his mind.
    â€˜What is the time?’ said Venice.
    â€˜Two minutes to your break for luncheon,’ said Miss Mitford, in an encouraging tone.
    â€˜You like your luncheon too, Mitta.’
    â€˜You must not call me Mitta except in a spirit of affection. And it is not often affectionate to tell people they like their food.’
    â€˜Here it comes!’ said James, throwing his book on the table and himself into a chair.
    â€˜I am punctual today,’ said Mullet, entering in understanding of the life she interrupted, and viewed with sympathy as inferior to that of the nursery. ‘And Hatton says, if Master James has a headache, he may ask Miss Mitford to excuse his lessons this morning.’
    James at once rose, selected some biscuits and a book and arranged a table and the sofa for the reception of them and himself. He did not look at Miss Mitford nor she at him. Hatton’s word was law in the schoolroom, as Miss Mitford chose to accept it as such, pursuing with it the opposite course to that she took with other people’s.
    â€˜Miss Isabel, look at your hair,’ said Mullet, as if the vigour of the enjoinder rendered it possible.
    â€˜Hatton said I was not to touch it myself, because I tear at it.’
    â€˜Then you should come upstairs to have it done. I wonder the mistress did not notice it.’
    â€˜How do you know she did not?’ said Miss Mitford.
    â€˜She would have sent her up to have it done,’ said Venice, who managed her own with care and competence.
    â€˜Perhaps that is why it is shorter than Venice’s, because you pull it,’ said James, turning a serious eye from the sofa.
    â€˜You pull it often enough yourself,’ said Isabel.
    â€˜I never pull any out,’ said James, in defence of his own course, returning to his book.
    â€˜Why should we go down to dessert twice a day?’ said Venice.
    â€˜Just to make the household as odd as possible,’ said Isabel.
    â€˜You get twice as much dessert,’ said Miss Mitford.
    â€˜Will you have tea or coffee after your dinner, ma’am?’ said Mullet.
    â€˜I think coffee is more sustaining, as I don’t have dessert.’
    Mullet laughed, and the children did so with more abandonment, taking the chance of venting their mirth over Miss Mit-ford’s practice of broaching private stores while they were downstairs. It merely made her meal correspond with theirs, but they thought it a habit of a certain grossness and never alluded to it to her face.
    â€˜Shall I tell Cook to send up the things you like?’ said Mullet.
    â€˜It might be suspected that we had asked,’ said Isabel.
    James raised his eyes in survey of the situation.
    â€˜The little ones are going down before their dinner, so you won’t have them,’ said Mullet, in encouraging sympathy with