Betty Trevor
Vaizey Mrs. George de Horne
English
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Below is a summary of Betty Trevor
Betty Trevor
by Mrs George de Horne Vaizey (aka Jessie Mansergh)
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This book concerns a family where the children consist of a couple of
boys, and a few more than that of girls. They live in a Square in
London, which bears the name of an existing London Square, but which is
placed, according to the story, in quite a different place to the real
one. The children are fascinated by the occupants of the various other
houses, some of whom they gradually get to know.
The children grow up, the boys are away doing interesting things, and
the girls become interested in their own clothes and appearances. This
may be just a male's view of the story, but it seems like it to me, for
there doesn't seem to be nearly as much life as you find in the same
author's Pixie books. Well, I suppose that's not true: there is a
subtle undercurrent of old love affairs revived that runs right to the
very last page--and that is one of Mrs Vaizey's greatest skills. If you
haven't done so, do read the little biography we have written of her, as
it will help you to understand her writing rather better than if you
don't.
Still, you read the book, and see what you think. You may well be
pleasantly surprised.
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BETTY TREVOR
BY MRS GEORGE DE HORNE VAIZEY (aka JESSIE MANSERGH)
CHAPTER ONE.
THE "PAMPERED PET."
"There goes the `Pampered Pet' again! Got its little keeper with it, as
usual. Why don't they lead her by a chain, and be done with it?"
Miles stood by the schoolroom window, hands jingling in pockets, as he
surveyed a prospect, sufficiently grey and drear to make any diversity
doubly welcome, and at his words there came the sound of a general
pushing-back of chairs, as the four other occupants of the room dashed
forward to share in the view.
They jostled each other with the scant courtesy which brothers and
sisters are apt to show each other in early days; five big boys and
girls, ranging between the ages of eight and nineteen. Miles kept his
central position by reason of superior strength, a vigorous dig of his
pointed elbow being enough to keep trespassers at a distance. Betty
darted before him and nimbly dropped on her knees, the twins stood on
either side of the window-sill, while poor Pam grumbled and fretted in
the background, dodging here and there to try all positions in turn, and
finding each as unsatisfactory as the last.
The Square gardens looked grey and sodden with the desolation of autumn
in a city, and the road facing the window was empty, except for two
female figures--a lady, and a girl of sixteen, who were slowly
approaching the corner. The lady was dressed in black, the girl was
noticeably smart, in a pretty blue costume, with dainty boots on her
tiny feet, and a fur cap worn at the fashionable angle on her golden
head.
"That's a new dress,--the fifth I've seen her in this month!" sighed
Betty enviously. "Wearing it on an afternoon like this, too. The idea!
Serve her right if it were soaked through!"
"Look at her mincing over the puddles! She'd rather go a mile out of
her way than get a splash on those precious boots. I'm sure by the look
of them that they pinch her toes! I am glad you girls don't make
ninnies of yourselves by wearing such stupid things."
"Can't! Feet too big!" mumbled Jill, each cheek bulging in turn with
the lump of toffee which she was mechanically moving from side to side,
so as to lengthen the enjoyment as much as possible.
"Can't! Too poor! Only four shillings to last out till the end of the
quarter!" sighed Betty, dolorous again.
"Boots! Boots! What boots? Let me see her boots. It's mean! You
won't let me see a thing!" cried Pam, pushing her shaggy head round
Miles' elbow, and craning forward on the tip of her toes. "I say!
She's grander than ever to-day, isn't she?"
"Look at the umbrella! About as thick as a lead pencil!" scoffed Jill,
flattening her nose against the pane. "Aunt Amy had one like that when
she came to stay, and I opened it, because mother says it spoils them to
be left squeezed up, and she was as mad as a hatter. She twisted at it
a good ten minutes before she would take it out again. She'd never get
_mine_ straight! I've carried things in it till the wires bulge out
like hoops. An umbrella is made for use; it's bosh pretending it's an
ornament. ... They are going a toddle round the Square between the
showers for the benefit of the Pet's complexion. I'm glad I haven't got
one to bother about!"
"True for you!" agreed Miles, with brotherly candour. "You are as brown
as a nigger, and the Pet is like a big wax-doll--yellow hair, blue eyes,
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