Oh! Christina!/Chapter 4
IV
IN FULL CHARGE
WW}}HEN the doctor had gone Miss Purvis, who was lying on the shabby old sofa in the living-room, turned to her niece, and, with a groan of despair, said—
"This is a dreadful predicament, Christina. I'm sure I don't know what is to be done. It will be three days at least before I can stand."
"Och, never you heed, auntie," said Christina kindly and reassuringly. "I'll luk efter ye."
"Yes, dear; but who's to look after the shop?"
"I'll manage that fine," said Christina promptly, unable to repress a snigger of satisfaction.
Miss Purvis did not know what to say; she shrank from hurting the girl's feelings. So she groaned again.
"Is yer fit hurtin' ye, auntie?"
"Not now. The doctor has made it much easier with the bandages. But nothing could have been more unfortunate than a sprained ankle."
"It wud ha'e been mair unfortunate if ye had broke yer neck. I've been expectin' ye to hurt yersel' for a while back." Christina spoke almost severely. "Ye're no' soople enough for sclimin' ladders. Ye should let me dae that. But it was a guid thing ye fell afore ye got the haud o' the gum bottles. A dizzen o' gum wud ha'e made an awfu' mess"
"And I might have been severely wounded," said Miss Purvis.
"So ye might. I never thocht o' that. 'Deed, ye've a heap to be thankfu' for—ha'e ye no'?"
Miss Purvis smiled in spite of her mental and physical discomfort. "You're an extraordinary girl, Christina!"
"Hoo that?"
"I think," said her aunt, evading the question, "I think you may shut the front door now. It was certainly fortunate that my accident occurred when business was over for the day. When you have shut the door, bring me the account-file and the cash-box. Mr. Baldwin will be calling to-morrow, and I must have his money ready for you to pay to him."
"Could Baldyin no' come ben an' see ye here, auntie?"
"Certainly not!" cried Miss Purvis, flushing.
"What wey that?"
"Oh, you don't understand, Christina. It would be most improper. And—er—his name is Mr. Baldwin."
"Ay, I ken. But I canna help ca'in' him Baldyin, for he is a bald yin." Christina laughed heartily.
"That will do, Christina," said her aunt reprovingly. "Go at once and shut the door. Then I shall instruct you regarding to-morrow. I do hope you will be careful and discreet."
"Hooch, ay!" Christina replied, and left Miss Purvis full of forebodings, which forebodings did not decrease during the watches of the night.
Christina was up betimes. First she ran down to the pier to receive the parcel of morning papers from the early boat. Then she delivered copies at certain houses. Then she returned to the shop, which she had locked up behind her, opened it, and arranged the remaining papers on the counter. Then she made breakfast, after which she assisted her aunt to dress.
"Well, dear," Miss Purvis gratefully remarked, "if you end the day as well as you have begun it, I'm sure I'll be very proud of you."
"Oh, dinna fash yersel', auntie. I'll no' gi'e onything awa' for naethin'."
"But I trust you will be circumspect and discreet. Some customers, you know, are very easily offended; all customers must be treated respectfully. You promise to be careful?"
Christina nodded her head vigorously.
"And try to speak nicely," continued Miss Purvis. "Now here is Mr. Baldwin's account and the money to pay it"
"Ony discoont?"
"No; Mr. Baldwin's firm does not allow discount."
"We'll ha'e to see about that!"
"Christina! You promised to be discreet."
"A' richt," said Christina, not satisfied, however.
"And here," went on Miss Purvis, "is a list of goods to be ordered from Mr. Baldwin. You may read it over."
The girl read it over, frowning.
"If I was you," she said at last, "I wudna get ony mair o' thae penny whustles. They're no' in the noo. An' cheeny dolls is oot, tae. An' ye've forgot to pit doon peevers,[1] an'"
"I haven't sold a peever for years," Miss Purvis interrupted.
"Ye canna expect to sell onything if ye dinna keep it. Get a dizzen o' peevers, an' I'll shin[2] get the lassies to buy them. I'm a dab at the peever, and I'll set the fashion. But I wudna get ony mair cheeny dolls nor"
Miss Purvis snatched away the list, and cried irritably, "If you can't promise to do exactly as you are told, Christina, I shan't allow you behind the counter again. I'll simply shut the shop until I am better."
"Ye canna shut the shope frae whaur ye are," Christina calmly returned, "unless ye hap' a' the road to the door on the yin fit—an' I'll no' let ye, auntie. A' the same, ye should order the peevers."
"Very well," said the spinster, somewhat mollified. "You may order a dozen."
Christina beamed her satisfaction.
Up till eleven o'clock Christina's only customers were for newspapers. To several of them she endeavoured to sell other things, but without success.
Then a woman came in to get some wool matched.
"Hoo's yer auntie, the day? I heard she had gotten a fa'."
"Ay; she's gey bad, but it micht ha'e been waur if she had got the baud o' the gum."
"The what?"
Christina explained, after which they came to business. The girl turned out all the wool she could find.
"Ah, ye canna match it," said the woman at last, in disgust.
"But this yin's awfu' near it," pleaded Christina.
"Near it? Ye're blin', lassie!" And the customer departed.
"Christina!" called Miss Purvis.
Christina attended the summons, looking cross.
"Who was in just now?" inquired Miss Purvis.
"Mistress M'Cabe. She wantit some worstit matched, but hers was ower ugly."
"I hope you didn't tell her that, Christina?" Miss Purvis looked anxious.
"I wisht I had!" The girl went back to the shop, banging the door behind her.
"Christina!"
Christina retraced her steps.
"What's up?"
"You must leave the door open, so that I can hear what is going on."
Christina, very grudgingly, left the door open a few inches, and hurried behind the counter.
The Rev. Mr. Beaton had just entered the shop.
He had started to inquire, in his usual genial tones, for the invalid, when Christina, holding up a warning finger, whispered, "Sh!" and glanced meaningly at the door of the living-room.
"Ah!" said the minister, lowering his voice. "Having a rest. Well, you must tell her I called to inquire for her. I'll call again later on."
"Naethin' else the day, sir?"
"Oh yes, by the bye, I want some sealing-wax."
Highly delighted, Christina procured a stick and laid it on the counter. "Ony thing else, sir? Pens, ink, blottin'-paper, sermon-paper, envelopes" She tried to think of other articles in keeping with a minister. "Christian Weekly"
"Nothing else, thank you," said Mr. Beaton, smiling and laying down a sixpence.
Christina wrapped up the wax and handed it to him, with threepence of change.
"Sealing-wax gone up in price?" he asked, looking at the coppers. "Miss Purvis used to charge me just twopence."
Only for a moment was she disconcerted.
"Thruppence is the price," she solemnly whispered. "It wud be a deid loss at tuppence, sir. But I've catched her afore gi'ein' things chape to folk she thocht a lot o'."
The minister beat a hasty retreat. He was afraid his laugh might waken the invalid.
"Christina!"
"Hullo?"
"Who was that?"
"The meenister, speirin' for ye. He's comin' back again. Whisht! I see Baldyin comin' aff the boat.... He's comin' aff the pier noo!... Noo he's speakin' to the piermaster. He's lukin' at the shope. I think the piermaster's tellin' him aboot ye fa'in' aff the ladder. He's lukin' vexed.... Here he comes!"
But Mr. Baldwin did not come to the shop just then. After halting and gazing reflectively at the ground for nearly a minute, he turned to the left and went off in that direction.
"Here, auntie, Baldyin's no' comin' efter a'! He's awa' the Kinlochan road. Wull I rin oot an' cry on him to come back? "
"Certainly not, Christina!"
"But what aboot the peevers? I think I better scoot efter him. Eh?"
"Come here, Christina!" her aunt called sternly.
The girl obeyed slowly. "I doot ye've lost him noo," she said, eyeing Miss Purvis with reproach. "What wey did ye no' let me scoot efter him?"
"Because it would be impertinent and foolish. Mr. Baldwin knows his business. He will doubtless return here when he finds it convenient."
"If he doesna come back, wull ye write for the peevers, auntie? "
"Can you think of nothing but peevers?" Miss Purvis cried quite crossly.
Christina regarded her aunt inquiringly for several seconds. Then she smiled, and put the kettle on to boil.