The House of Arden - E. Nesbit (i am malala young readers edition .TXT) 📗

But Edred couldn’t. He laid hands on the chest, of course, and he pulled and Elfrida pulled, but the chest-lid was as fast now as any of the others.

“Done in the eye!” said Edred. It was a very vulgar expression, and I can’t think where he picked it up.

“ ‘He that will not when he may,
He shall not when he would⁠—a,’ ”

said Elfrida⁠—and I do know where she learned that. It was from an old song Mrs. Honeysett used to sing when she blackleaded the stoves.

“I suppose we must chuck it for today,” said Edred, when he had quite hurt his fingers by trying all the chests once more, and had found that every single one was shut tight as wax. “Come on⁠—we’ll print the photographs.”

But the films were not dry enough. They never are when you just expect them to be; so they locked the still-room door on the outside, and hung the key on a nail high up in the kitchen chimney. Mrs. Honeysett was not in the kitchen at that moment, but she came hurrying in the next.

“Here you are, my lambs,” she said cheerily, “and just in time for the surprise.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten the surprise. That makes two of it, doesn’t it?” said Elfrida. “Do tell us what it is. We need a nice surprise to make up for everything, if you only knew.”

“Ah,” said Mrs. Honeysett, “you mean because of me opening that there door. Well, there is two surprises. One’s roast chicken. For supper,” she added impressively.

“Then I know the other,” said Edred. “Aunt Edith’s coming.”

And she was⁠—indeed, at that very moment, as they looked through the window, they saw her blue dress coming over the hill, and joyously tore out to meet her.

It was after the roast chicken, when it was nearly dark and almost bedtime, that Aunt Edith said, suddenly⁠—

“Children, there’s something I wanted to tell you. I’ve hesitated about it a good deal, but I think we oughtn’t to have any secrets from each other.”

Edred and Elfrida exchanged guilty glances.

“Not real secrets, of course,” said Edred, hastily; “but you don’t mind our having magic secrets, do you?”

“Of course not,” said Aunt Edith, smiling; “and what I’m going to tell you is rather like magic⁠—if it’s true. I don’t know yet whether it’s true or not.”

Here Aunt Edith put an arm round each of the children as they sat on the broad window-seat, and swallowed something in her throat and sniffed.

“Oh, it’s not bad news, is it?” Elfrida cried. “Oh, darling auntie, don’t be miserable, and don’t say that they’ve found out that Arden isn’t ours, or that Edred isn’t really Lord Arden, or something.”

“Would you mind so very much,” said Aunt Edith gently, “if you weren’t Lord Arden, Edred? Because⁠—”

The films were quite dry by bedtime, when, after a delightful evening with no magic in it at all but the magic of undisturbed jolliness, Edred slipped away, unpinned them and hid them in Elfrida’s corner drawer, which he rightly judged to be a cleaner resting-place for them than his own was likely to be. So there the precious films lay between Elfrida’s best lace collar and the handkerchief-case with three fat buttercups embroidered on it that Aunt Edith had given her at Christmas. And Edred went back to the parlour for one last game of Proverbs before bed. As he took up his cards he thought how strange it was that he, who had been imprisoned in the Tower and had talked with Sir Walter Raleigh, should be sitting there quietly playing Proverbs with his aunt and his sister, just like any other little boy.

“Aha!” said Edred to himself, “I am living a double life, that’s what I’m doing.”

He had seen the expression in a book and the idea charmed him.

“How pleased Edred looks with himself!” said Aunt Edith; “I’m sure he’s got a whole proverb, or nearly, in his hand already.”

“You’ll be looking pleased presently,” he said; “you always win.”

And win she did, for Edred’s thoughts were wandering off after the idea how pleased Aunt Edith would look when he and Elfrida should come to her, take her by the hand, and lead her to the hiding-place of the treasure, and then say, “Behold the treasure of our house! Now we can rebuild the castle and mend the broken thatch on the cottages, and I can go to Eton and Oxford, and you can have a diamond tiara, and Elfrida can have a pony to ride, and so can I.”

Elfrida’s thoughts were not unlike his⁠—so Aunt Edith won the game of Proverbs.

“You have been very good children, Mrs. Honeysett tells me,” said Aunt Edith, putting the cards together.

“Not so extra,” said Edred; “I mean it’s easy to be good when everything’s so jolly.”

“We have quarrelled once or twice, you know,” said Elfrida virtuously.

“Yes, we have,” said Edred firmly.

They needn’t, they felt, have confessed this⁠—and that made them feel that they were good now, if never before.

“Well, don’t quarrel any more. I shall be coming over for good quite soon, then we’ll have glorious times. Perhaps we’ll find the treasure. You’ve heard about the treasure?”

“I should jolly well think we had,” Edred couldn’t help saying. And Elfrida added⁠—

“And looked for it, too⁠—but we haven’t found it. Did you ever look for it?”

“No,” said Aunt Edith, “but I always wanted to. My grandfather used to look for it when he was a little boy.”

“Was your grandfather Lord Arden?” Edred asked.

“No; he was the grandson of the Lord Arden who fought for King James the Third, as they called him⁠—the Pretender, you know⁠—when he was quite a boy. And they let him off because of his being so young. And then he mortgaged all the Arden lands to keep the Young Pretender⁠—Prince Charlie, you know, in the ballads. He got money to send to him, and of course Prince Charlie was going to pay it back when he was king. Only he never was king,” she sighed.

“And is