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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/18275-8.txt b/18275-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e2078e --- /dev/null +++ b/18275-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5467 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rectory Children, by Mrs Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Rectory Children + +Author: Mrs Molesworth + +Illustrator: Walter Crane + +Release Date: April 28, 2006 [EBook #18275] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECTORY CHILDREN *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +THE RECTORY CHILDREN + +BY MRS MOLESWORTH + +ILLUSTRATED BY + +WALTER CRANE + +[Illustration: 'It's the sun going to bed, you know, dear.' P. 37.] + + London + MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED + NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + 1897 + + + + + TO + MY NIECE AND GOD-DAUGHTER + Helen Louisa Delves Walthall + + 85 LEXHAM GARDENS + _Shrove Tuesday_, 1889. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + CHAPTER I + THE PARLOUR BEHIND THE SHOP 1 + + CHAPTER II + THOSE YOUNG LADIES 18 + + CHAPTER III + A TRYING CHILD 34 + + CHAPTER IV + BIDDY HAS SOME NEW THOUGHTS 51 + + CHAPTER V + CELESTINA 66 + + CHAPTER VI + THE WINDOW IN THE WALL 83 + + CHAPTER VII + ON THE SEASHORE 99 + + CHAPTER VIII + A NICE PLAN 117 + + CHAPTER IX + A SECRET 134 + + CHAPTER X + BIDDY'S ESCAPADE 151 + + CHAPTER XI + AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 169 + + CHAPTER XII + ANOTHER BIRTHDAY 186 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + '----and--oh, Alie, I have so torn my frock, and it's my + afternoon one--my new merino' 27 + + 'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the + other child 75 + + 'It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show' 89 + + 'I would like to go there,' she said 115 + + A secret 148 + + ----carrying between them a little dripping figure, with + streaming hair, white face, and closed eyes 161 + + 'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes' 195 + + + + + 'O little hearts! that throb and beat, + With such impatient, feverish heat, + Such limitless and strong desires.'--LONGFELLOW. + + + + +THE RECTORY CHILDREN + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE PARLOUR BEHIND THE SHOP + + 'I was very solitary indeed.' + (_Visit to the Cousins_).--MARY LAMB. + + +The blinds had been drawn down for some time in the back parlour behind +Mr. Fairchild's shop in Pier Street, the principal street in the little +town of Seacove. And the gas was lighted, though it was not turned up +very high. It was a great thing to have gas; it had not been known at +Seacove till recently. For the time of which I am writing is now a good +many years ago, thirty or forty at least. + +Seacove, though a small place, was not so out-of-the-way in some +respects as many actually larger towns, for it was a seaport, though not +a very important one. Ships came in from all parts of the globe, and +sailed away again in due course to the far north, and still farther off +south; to the great other world of America, too, no doubt, and to the +ancient eastern lands. But it was the vessels going to or coming from +the strange mysterious north--the land of everlasting snow, where the +reindeer and, farther north still, the white bear have their home, and +where the winter is one long, long night--it was somehow the thought of +the north that had the most fascination for the little girl who was +sitting alone in the dull parlour behind the shop this late November +evening. And among the queer outlandish-looking sailors who from time to +time were to be seen on the wharf or about the Seacove streets, now and +then looking in to buy a sheet of paper and an envelope in her father's +shop, it was the English ones belonging to the whalers or to the herring +smacks bound for the north who interested Celestina by far the most. + +This evening she was not thinking of sailors or ships or anything like +that; her mind was full of her own small affairs. She had got two new +dolls, quite tiny ones--Celestina did not care for big dolls--and long +as the daylight lasted she had been perfectly happy dressing them. But +the daylight was gone now--it was always rather in a hurry to say +good-night to the back parlour--and the gas was too dim for her to see +clearly by, even if she had had anything else to do, which she had not, +till mother could give her a scrap or two for the second dolly's frock. +It was mother she was longing for. She wanted to show her the hats and +cloaks she had made out of some tiny bits for both the dollies--the +cloaks, that is to say, for the hats were crochet-work, crocheted in +pink cotton. Celestina's little fingers were very clever at crochet. + +'Oh, mother, mother,' she said half aloud, '_do_ come.' + +She had drawn back the little green baize curtain which hung before the +small window between the shop and the parlour, and was peering in, her +nose flattened against the glass. She was allowed to do this, but she +was not allowed to run out and in of the shop without leave, and at this +time of the day, or evening, even when there were few customers, she +knew that her father and mother were generally busy. There were late +parcels to put up for the little errand-boy to leave on his way home; +there was the shop to tidy, and always a good many entries to make in +the big ledger. Very often there were letters to write and send off, +ordering supplies needed for the shop, or books not in stock, which some +customer had asked for. + +It was a bookseller's and stationer's shop; the only one worthy of the +name at Seacove. And Mr. Fairchild did a pretty good business, though +certainly, as far as the actual _book_ part of it was concerned, people +read and bought far fewer books thirty years ago than now. And books +were much dearer. People wrote fewer letters too; paper and envelopes +were dearer also. Still, one way and another it was not a bad business +of its kind in a modest way, though strict economy and care were +required to make a livelihood out of it. And some things had made this +more difficult than would otherwise have been the case. Delicate health +perhaps most of all. Mr. Fairchild was not very strong, and little +Celestina had been fragile enough as a baby and a tiny girl, though now +she was growing stronger. No wonder that a great share of both work and +care fell on Celestina's mother, and this the little girl already +understood, and tried always to remember. + +But it was dull and lonely sometimes. She had few companions, and for +some months past she had not gone to school, as a rather serious illness +had made her unable to go out in bad weather. She did not mind this +much; she liked to do lessons by herself, for father or mother to +correct when they had time, and there was no child at school she cared +for particularly. Still poor Celestina was pining for companionship +without knowing it. Perhaps, though mother said little, she understood +more about it than appeared. + +And 'Oh, mother, mother, _do_ come,' the child repeated, as she peered +through the glass. + +There were one or two customers in the shop still. One of them Celestina +knew by sight. It was Mr. Redding, the organist of the church. He was +choosing some music-paper, and talking as he did so, but the pair of +ears behind the window could not hear what he said, though by his manner +it seemed something not only of interest to himself but to his hearers +also. + +'I wish I could hear what he's saying,' thought the little maiden, 'or +most of all, I _wish_ he'd go and that other man too--oh, he's going, +but Mr. Redding is asking for something else now! Oh, if only mother +would come, or if I might turn on the gas higher. I think it would be +nicer to have candles, like Fanny Wells has in her house. Gas is only +nice when it's very high turned on, and mother says it costs such a lot +then. I _do_ so want to show mother the cloaks and hats.' + +She turned back at last, wearied of waiting and watching. The fire was +burning brightly, that was some comfort, and Celestina sat down on the +rug in front of it, propping her two little dolls against the fender. + +'To-morrow,' she said to herself, 'as soon as I've made a frock for +Eleanor, I'll have a tea-party. Eleanor and Amy shall be new friends +coming to tea for the first time--if _only_ the parlour chairs weren't +too big for the table!' she sighed deeply. 'They can't look nice and +_real_, when they're so high up that their legs won't go underneath. +People don't make our tables and chairs like that--I don't see why they +can't make doll-house ones properly. Now, if I was a carpenter I'd make +a doll-house just like a real house--I could make it so nice.' + +She began building doll-houses--her favourite castles in the air--in +imagination. But now and then she wanted another opinion, there were +knotty points to decide. As 'all roads,' according to the old proverb, +'lead to Rome,' so all Celestina's meditations ended in the old cry, 'If +only mother would come.' + +The door opened at last--gently, so gently that the little girl knew it +could be no one else but mother. She sprang up. + +'Oh, mother, I am so glad you've come. I've been so tired waiting. I do +so want to show you the cloaks and hats, and _can_ you give me a bit to +make Amy's frock? She looks so funny with a cloak and hat and no frock.' + +'I will try to find you a scrap of something when I go upstairs,' mother +replied. 'But just now I must see about getting tea ready. Father is +tired already, and he has a good deal to do this evening still. Yes, you +have made the cloaks very nice, and the little hats too. I'll turn up +the gas so as to see better.' + +Celestina gave in without a murmur to waiting till after tea for the +piece of stuff she longed for so ardently, and she set to work in a +neat, handy way to help her mother with the tea-table. They understood +each other perfectly, these two, though few words of endearment passed +between them, and caresses were rare. People were somewhat colder in +manner at that time than nowadays perhaps; much petting of children was +not thought good for them, and especially in the case of an only child, +parents had great fear of 'spoiling.' But no one who looked at Mrs. +Fairchild's sweet face as her eyes rested lovingly on her little girl +could have doubted for a moment her intense affection. She had a very +sweet face; Celestina thought there never could be anybody prettier than +mother, and I don't know that she was far wrong. If she ever thought of +herself at all--of her looks especially--it was to hope that some day +she might grow up to be 'like mother.' + +Tea was ready--neatly arranged on the table, though all was of the +plainest, a little carefully-made toast to tempt father's uncertain +appetite the only approach to luxury--when Mr. Fairchild came in and sat +down in the one arm-chair rather wearily. He was a tall thin man, and he +stooped a good deal. He had a kindly though rather nervous and careworn +face and bright intelligent eyes. + +'Redding is full of news as usual,' he said, as Mrs. Fairchild handed +him his tea. 'He is a good-natured man, but I wish he wouldn't talk +quite so much.' + +'He had some excuse for talking this evening,' said Celestina's mother; +'it is news of importance for every one at Seacove, and of course it +must affect Mr. Redding a good deal. I shall be glad if the new +clergyman is more hearty about improving the music.' + +Celestina so far had heard without taking in the drift of the +conversation, but at the last words she pricked up her ears. + +'Is there going to be a new clergyman--is old Dr. Bunton going away, +mother?' she asked eagerly, though the moment after she reddened +slightly, not at all sure that she was not going to be told that 'little +girls should not ask questions.' But both Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were +interested in the subject--I think for once they forgot that Celestina +was only 'a little girl.' + +'Yes,' the mother replied; 'he is giving up at last. That has been known +for some weeks, but it is only to-day that it has been known who is to +succeed him. Mr. Vane, that is the name, is it not?' she added, turning +to her husband. + +'The Reverend Bernard Vane, at present vicar of St. Cyprian's, somewhere +in the west end of London--that is Redding's description of him,' Mr. +Fairchild replied. 'I don't know how a fashionable London clergyman +will settle down at Seacove, nor what his reasons are for coming here, +I'm sure. I hope the change will be for good.' + +But his tone showed that he was not at all certain that it would prove +so. + +'Is he married?' asked Celestina's mother. 'Oh yes, by the bye, I +remember Mr. Redding spoke of children, but old Captain Deal came in +just as he was telling more and I could not hear the rest.' + +'There are several children and Mrs. Vane a youngish lady still, he +said. The old Rectory will want some overhauling before they come to it, +I should say,' remarked Mr. Fairchild. 'It must be nigh upon forty years +since Dr. Bunton came there, and there's not much been done in the way +of repairs, save a little whitewashing now and then. The doctor and Mrs. +Bunton haven't needed much just by themselves--but a family's different; +they'll be needing nurseries and schoolrooms and what not, especially if +they have been used to grand London ways.' + +Celestina had been turning her bright brown eyes from one parent to +another in turn as they spoke. + +'Is London much grander than Seacove?' she asked. 'I thought the Rectory +was such a fine house.' + +Mrs. Fairchild smiled. + +'It might be made very nice. There's plenty of room any way. And many +clergymen's families are very simple and homely.' + +'I wonder if there are any little girls,' said Celestina. 'And do you +think they'll go to Miss Peters's to school, mother?' + +Her father turned on her rather sharply. + +'Dear me, no, child. Of course not,' he said. 'Miss Peters's is well +enough for plain Seacove folk, but don't you be getting any nonsense in +your head of setting up to be the same as ladies' children. Mrs. Vane +comes of a high family, I hear; there will be a French ma'amselle of a +governess as like as not.' + +Celestina looked at her father with a world of puzzle in her eyes, her +little pale face with a red spot of excitement on each cheek. But she +was not the least hurt by her father's words. She simply did not +understand them: what are called 'class distinctions' were quite unknown +to her innocent mind. Had she been alone with her mother she might have +asked for some explanation, but she was too much in awe of her father to +question him. + +Her mother turned to her somewhat abruptly. + +'I want some more water; the kettle, Celestina love,' she said; and as +the little girl brought it, 'I will explain to you afterwards, but don't +say any more. Father is tired,' she whispered. + +And Celestina quickly forgot all about it; the sight of Eleanor and Amy +still reposing on the hearthrug as she replaced the kettle drove out of +her mind all thoughts of the possible little Misses Vane. + +After tea, when the things were cleared away and Celestina had helped +her mother to make the room look neat and comfortable again, for the +little servant in the kitchen was seldom seen in the parlour, as she +fidgeted Mr. Fairchild by her awkward clattering ways, Mrs. Fairchild +went upstairs to fetch some sewing that needed seeing to. + +'I will look for a scrap or two for you,' she said to Celestina as she +went. 'But I'm not sure that you should sew any more to-night. It's +trying for your eyes.' + +'And what about your sums, child?' said her father. 'Have you done all I +set you?' + +'Yes, father, and I've read the chapter of _Little Arthur's History_ +too,' Celestina replied. + +'Well, then,' said Mr. Fairchild, drawing his chair nearer to the table +again--he had pushed it close to the fire--'bring your slate and your +books. I'll correct the sums and set you some more, and then we'll have +a little history. I will question you first on the chapter you have read +to yourself.' + +Celestina could not help an appealing glance at her mother--she had the +two little dolls in her hand, poor Amy still looking very deplorable in +her skirt-less condition. Mrs. Fairchild understood her though no word +was spoken. + +'I thought you were going back to write in the shop,' she said gently to +her husband. 'The stove is still hot.' + +'I am too tired,' he replied, and indeed he looked so. 'There is nothing +so very pressing, and it's too late for the London post. No--I would +rather take Celly's lessons; it will be a change.' + +Mrs. Fairchild said no more, nor did Celestina--father's word was law. +The little girl did not even look cross or doleful, though she gave a +tiny sigh as she fetched her books. She was a docile pupil, thoughtful +and attentive, though not peculiarly quick, and Mr. Fairchild, in spite +of his rather nervously irritable temper, was an earnest and intelligent +teacher. The sums were fairly correct and the multiplication table was +repeated faultlessly. But when it came to the history Celestina was less +ready and accurate in her replies. + +'My dear,' said her mother, who had sat down beside them with her sewing +by this time, 'you are not giving your full attention. I can see you are +thinking of something else. If it is anything you do not understand ask +father to explain it.' + +'Certainly,' Mr. Fairchild agreed. 'There is nothing worse than giving +half attention. What are you thinking about, child?' + +Celestina looked up timidly. + +'It wasn't anything in the lesson--at least not exactly,' she said. 'But +when father asked me who was the king of France then, it made me think +of what father said about a French ma'amselle, and I wondered what it +meant.' + +'Ma'amselle,' said her father, 'is only our English way of saying +"mademoiselle," which means a miss, a young lady.' + +'But those young ladies, the Rectory young ladies, aren't French,' +Celestina said. + +'Of course not. What I meant was that very likely they have a French +governess. It's the mode nowadays when every one wants to speak French +well.' + +'Oh,' said Celestina, 'I didn't understand. I'd like to hear somebody +speak French,' she added. 'Did you ever hear it, mother?' + +'Yes,' Mrs. Fairchild replied. 'When I was a girl there was a French +lady came to live near us that I was very fond of; and she was very kind +to us. She sent me a beautiful present when I married. I called you +after her, you know, Celestina--I'm sure I've told you that before. Her +name was Célestine.' + +'I remember,' the little girl replied; 'but I forgot about her being +French. I would like to see her, mother.' + +'I do not know if she is still alive,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'She must be +an old lady by now, if so. She went back to France many years ago; she +was in England with her husband, who had some business here. They had no +children, and she was always asking mother to let her adopt me. But +though there were so many of us, mother couldn't make up her mind to +spare one.' + +'Things would have turned out pretty different for you, Mary, if she +had. You'd have been married to a French "mounseer" by now,' and he +laughed a little, as if there was something exceedingly funny in the +idea. Mr. Fairchild did not often laugh. + +'Maybe,' his wife replied, smiling. + +'I do hope they'll have a French governess,' said Celestina. + +'Who? oh, the Miss Vanes,' said her father. 'Why, you _are_ putting the +cart before the horse, child! We don't even know that the new clergyman +has any daughters--his family may be all boys. Besides, I don't know +when you'd be likely to see them or their governess either.' + +'They'd be sure to come to the shop sometimes, father,' Celestina +replied eagerly. 'Even old Mrs. Bunton does--I've often seen her. And +there's no other shop for books and stationery at Seacove.' + +Mr. Fairchild smiled at the pride with which she said this. + +'It would be a bad job for me if there were,' he said, 'for as it is +there's barely custom for a shop of the kind,' and an anxious look came +over his face. But Mrs. Fairchild reminded him that if they did not +finish the chapter of _Little Arthur_ quickly, it would be Celestina's +bedtime, so the talk changed to the Black Prince and his exploits. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THOSE YOUNG LADIES + + 'Leave me alone--I want to cry; + It's no use trying to be good.'--ANON. + + +Six weeks or so later--Christmas and New Year's day were past; it was +the middle of January by this time--a little group of children might +have been seen standing on the shore about half a mile from Seacove. + +Though midwinter, it was not very cold. There is a theory that it never +is very cold at the seaside. I cannot say that I have always found this +the case, but it was so at Seacove. It lay in a sheltered position, out +of the way of the east wind, and this was one reason why Mr. Vane had +decided to make it for a time the home of himself and his family. + +These were his children--the group on the seashore. Rumour had +exaggerated a little in saying he had 'several.' There were but three of +them, and of these three two were girls. So Celestina Fairchild's +thoughts about them had some foundation after all. + +'It looks just a little, a very little dreary,' said the eldest of the +three, a girl of thirteen or so, slight and rather tall for her age, +with a pretty graceful figure and pretty delicate features; 'but then of +course it's the middle of winter. Not that spring or summer would make +much difference here; there are so very few trees.' + +She glanced round her as she spoke. It was a bare, almost +desolate-looking stretch of country, down to the sea, which was still +and gray-looking this morning. Yet there was a strange charm about it +too--the land, though by no means hilly, was undulating. Not far from +where the children stood there was a grand run of sand-hills, with +coarse, strong grass and a few hardy thistles, and, in its season, +bindweed with its white and pinky flowers, growing along their summit. +Farther off was a sort of skeleton-like erection, looking not unlike the +gaunt remains of a deserted sail-less ship: this was a landmark or +beacon, placed there to point out a sudden turn in the coastline. And +out at sea, a mile or so distant, stood a lighthouse with a revolving +lantern; three times in each minute the bright light was to be seen as +soon as night fell. A kind of natural breakwater ran out in a straight +line to the lighthouse, so that in low tides--and the tides are +sometimes very low at Seacove--it was difficult to believe but that you +could get on foot all the way to the lighthouse rock. + +But all these interesting particulars were not as yet known to Mr. +Vane's children. They had arrived at Seacove Rectory only the night +before. + +The boy--he was next in age to his elder sister Rosalys--followed the +direction of her glance. + +'No,' he said, 'there's very few trees, certainly. But I think it's +going to be very jolly all the same. When I get my pony _I'll_ be all +right any way; and on Saturdays, or odd half-holidays--there always are +odd half-holidays at every school, you know--I'll take you girls out a +drive in that funny little donkey-chaise, or whatever it is, that's +standing in the coach-house.' + +'I don't fancy there are many places to drive to,' Rosalys replied. +'Papa said there would be no use in having any sort of proper carriage. +The only good road is the one to your school, Rough, and you'll have +enough of that morning and evening.' + +'Papa said Seacove was a--I can't remember the word--something +French--cool--cul----' + +'_Cul-de-sac_,' said Rosalys; 'leading to nowhere, that means.' + +'Except to the sea, I suppose,' added the little girl who had stumbled +at the French word. 'It would be nice to have a ship of our own instead +of a carriage. Don't you think we might ask papa to get us one?' + +'A _ship_, Biddy--I suppose you mean a boat,' said Rosalys, in a rather +'superior' tone. 'No; I don't fancy papa would trust us to go about in a +boat. Mamma would be frightened out of her wits about us.' + +'The sea looks _so_ quiet,' said Bridget, gazing out at it. 'I don't +think it could ever be tossy and soapy here like it used to be at +Rockcliffe.' + +'Couldn't it just?' said Randolph. 'Wait a bit, Bride. It may look quiet +on a day like this, and inside the shelter of the bay, but I can tell +you there's jolly rough work outside there sometimes. I was talking to +an old sailor this morning when I ran out before breakfast.' + +'I'd like to see a shipwreck--I mean,' as she caught sight of a shocked +expression on her sister's face--'I mean of course one that nobody would +be drowned in.' + +'But how could any one be sure of that? You should be more careful what +you say, Bride; you are so heedless.' + +Bridget's face puckered up. It was rather given to puckering up, funny +little face that it was. She was eight years old, short and rather +stout, with thick, dark hair and a freckled complexion. Her nose turned +up and her mouth was not small. But she was not ugly; she had merry gray +eyes and very white teeth. Somehow, thorough little English girl though +she was, she reminded one of the small Savoyard boys one sees with a box +of marmots slung in front of them, or a barrel organ and a monkey. + +'I didn't mean to say anything naughty, Alie,' she began, in a plaintive +tone. 'I'm always----' + +'Oh, come now, Biddy, stop that, do,' said her brother; 'don't spoil the +first morning by going off into a howl for nothing. No one supposes you +wanted to drown a lot of people for the sake of watching a shipwreck, +only, as Alie says, you should be more careful. Strangers might think +you a very queer little girl if they heard you say such a thing.' + +Bridget still looked melancholy, but she did not venture to complain any +more. She was a good deal in awe of Rough, who was twelve and a big boy +for his age. He had been at school for two years, and now he was going +as a day-scholar to a large and very excellent public school, which was +only about two miles from Seacove, quite in the country. Mr. Vane had +bought a pony for him to ride backwards and forwards, so Randolph was in +capital spirits. But he was not an unkind or selfish boy, and though his +pet name 'Rough' suited him sometimes as regarded his manners, his heart +was gentle. And indeed the name had been given to him at first on +account of his thick shaggy hair, as a very little boy. + +'It's rather cold standing about,' said Rosalys. 'Don't you think we'd +better walk on or take a run?' + +'Let's have a race,' said Rough. 'The sand's nice and firm about here. +I'll give you a good start, Alie, and Biddy can run on in front and wait +till we call to her that we're off.' + +Bridget trotted off as she was told, obediently. She did not care much +for running. Her legs were short and she was rather fat, but she did +not like to complain. She ran on, though slowly, till at last Randolph +shouted to her to stop. Then she stood still waiting till he called to +her again, for he and Rosalys took some time to settle how much of a +start Alie was to have--from where she stood, Biddy heard them talking +and measuring. + +'I wish they wouldn't run races,' thought the little girl. 'They're so +big compared with me--they've such much longer legs. I shan't like +Seacove if they're going always to run races. In London they couldn't in +the streets; it was only when we went in the gardens, and that wasn't +every day, it was too far to go. I wish I had a brother or a sister +littler than me; it's too much difference between Alie and me, thirteen +and eight. I wish----' + +But here came a whoop from behind. + +'Off, Biddy; look sharp--one, two, three.' + +Poor Biddy--off she set as fast as she _could_ go, which is not saying +much. She puffed and panted, for she was not without a spirit of her own +and did not want to be overtaken _too_ soon. And for a time Rough's +cries of encouragement, 'Gee-up, old woman,' 'Famous, Biddy,' 'You'll +win yet,' and so on, spurred her to fresh exertions. But not for long; +she felt her powers flagging, and as first Alie and then Rough, both +apparently as fresh as ever, passed her at full speed, she gave in. + +'It's no use. I can't run races. I wish you wouldn't make me,' she said, +as in a minute or two the two others came flying back again to where she +stood, a convenient goal for their return race. + +'But you ran splendidly for a bit,' said Randolph; 'and I'll tell you +what, Biddy, it would be a very good thing for you to run a good deal +more than you do. It'll make you grow and stop you getting too fat.' + +'I'm not fatter than you were when you were as little as me, Roughie. +Nurse says so--you were a regular roundabout till you had the measles; +mamma says so too,' replied Bridget philosophically. + +'I'm quite hot,' said Rosalys; 'fancy being hot in January! But we'd +better not stand still or we'll get a chill. Isn't it nice to come out +alone? I'd like to walk to Seacove--I want to see what it's like, but of +course we mustn't go so far. Mamma said we must stay on the shore.' + +'If it was summer we might dig and make sand-castles,' said Biddy +regretfully. Digging in the sand was an amusement much more to her taste +than running races. + +'I think that's stupid--it's such baby play,' Rosalys replied. 'But come +on, do. I'm going to climb up to the top of that bank--that's the +sand-hills papa was speaking about.' + +It was more tiring work than she had expected. Before they got to the +top of the bank Alie had decided that they would have done better to +remain where they were, on the smooth firm sand down below, but once at +the top she changed again. What fun can be more delightful than playing +in sand-hills, jumping from a miniature summit to the valley beneath +with no fear of hurting one's self even if one comes to grief and rolls +ignominiously as far as one can go! How helplessly one wades in the +shifting, unstable footing--tumbling over with a touch, like a house +built of cards! The children's laughter sounded merrily in the clear +cold air; Bridget plunged about like a little porpoise in the water, and +Rosalys quite forgot that she had attained the dignity of her teens. + +But a bell ringing suddenly some little way off caught their ears. + +'That's papa ringing,' said Randolph. 'He said he'd have the big +dinner-bell rung when it was time for me to go in. I'm going to walk to +the town or the village, or whatever it is, with him. Good-bye, +girls. It's only three o'clock--you can stay another half-hour,' and off +he ran. + +'Let's go down to the shore again,' said Alie. 'Mamma said _perhaps_ +she'd come out a little, and she'd never see us up here.' + +Bridget hung back a little. + +'I daresay she won't come out,' she said. 'Do stay up here, Alie. If +mamma comes out she'll only talk to you and I'll be all alone. I don't +want her.' + +'Oh, Bride, that's not nice. I'm sure mamma likes to talk to you too, +only you see I'm older, and there's often things you wouldn't understand +about perhaps, and----' + +'I know--it's always the same. I'm too little to be any use. I know +you're older and sensibler, and I don't mean that mamma's not kind. But +families should be settled better--and--oh, Alie, I have so torn my +frock, and it's my afternoon one--my new merino.' + +[Illustration: '--and--oh, Alie, I have so torn my frock, and its my +afternoon one--my new merino.' P. 27.] + +Rosalys looked much concerned. + +'_What_ a pity!' she exclaimed. 'I wish we hadn't played in the sand. +But really, Biddy, you are very unlucky. I've been jumping just as much +as you, and I've got no harm.' + +'You never do--I don't know how it is that I always get torn,' said +Bride dolefully. 'And oh, Alie, there is mamma'--they were down on the +shore by this time, coming down being a much speedier affair than +climbing up,--'she will be so vexed, for I've got this frock new, extra +to yours, you know, because of the stain on the other the day I spilt my +tea all down it. I am so sorry, Alie. Could you pin it up?' + +Rosalys stooped to examine the damage. It was not _very_ great, still +under the circumstances of its being a new frock, it was vexing enough. + +'You've got it so sandy, too--that makes it look worse,' said the elder +sister, giving the unlucky skirt a shake as she spoke. + +'I wish mamma hadn't come out,' said Bridget. 'Then I could have got it +brushed and mended before I told her, but perhaps it's best to tell at +once,' and she gave a little sigh. + +'Much best,' her sister agreed, and they went on to meet their mother. +Suddenly Bride gave a little cry of satisfaction. + +'Oh, Smut's with mamma,' she exclaimed. 'I'm so glad. You can walk with +mamma alone then, Alie, and Smut and I will come after you. I'm always +quite happy with Smuttie--I wish he was my very own.' + +It was rather unlucky that just as they got up to Mrs. Vane, Bridget was +so occupied in calling to Smut, who came careering forward to meet the +girls, that the dilapidated frock went quite out of her mind. At the +first moment her mother did not notice it. + +'Well, dears, here I am!' she began brightly. 'I got my letters finished +more quickly than I expected. What a quantity of things there are to +order when one first comes to a new house! And I do so miss M'Creagh! +Did you see me coming, Alie darling?' + +'Yes, mamma--not very far off though. We were up on the sand-hills when +papa rang for Rough, and----' + +But Mrs. Vane interrupted her. + +'Oh, Bridget,' she exclaimed in a tone of vexation, 'what have you been +doing to yourself? Do you see, Alie? Her skirt is torn from top to +bottom--the stuff torn, not the seam. And so dirty. Your new frock +too--really, child, you are too provoking.' + +Biddy's round rosy face grew longer and redder, and her eyes filled with +tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rosalys came before her. + +'It isn't so very bad, dear mamma,' she said eagerly. 'I've been +looking at it. It looks worse because of the sand, but it isn't really +dirty; it will brush off. She rolled down one of the sand-hills. I'm +afraid it was my fault. It was my idea to play about there.' + +Mrs. Vane glanced at Alie's own garments. + +'Your frock is none the worse,' she said. 'I do not see that Bride need +have hurt hers if she had been the least careful. But you are so +incorrigibly heedless, Bridget, and _so_ thoughtless. Why, you were +dancing and jumping and calling to Smut when I met you as if there was +nothing the matter! I suppose you had forgotten all about your frock +already.' + +Mrs. Vane's voice was rather sharp as she spoke thus to the little girl. +It sounded quite differently from the bright sweet tone in which she had +greeted them. And it did not seem to suit her to speak sharply. She was +very pretty and sweet-looking, and she seemed young to be tall Alie's +mother; indeed, people often said they looked more like sisters: stout, +sturdy little Bridget was quite unlike them both. + +Rosalys looked up at her mother anxiously. She could not bear her to be +troubled, and though she was sorry for Bridget, she was vexed with her +too. She slipped her arm inside Mrs. Vane's and drew her on. + +'It's too cold to stand still, mamma dear,' she said. 'Let us walk on to +that beautiful smooth piece of sand--it's rather stony just here. Biddy, +take care of Smut.' + +That meant, 'You may stay behind and keep out of the way a little.' +Biddy had no objection to do so. + +'Come, Smuttie, stay by me,' she said coaxingly to the little shaggy +black dog. Smut was very fond of Bridget, who had a very big heart for +all dumb animals. He wagged his tail and looked up in her face with +inquiring sympathy, for he saw quite well that Biddy was in trouble. +This was nothing new; many and many a time had the little girl buried +her tearful face in his rough coat and sobbed out her sorrows to him. +They were never very big sorrows really, but they were big to her, and +rendered bigger by the knowledge in her honest little heart that they +were generally and mostly, if not entirely, brought about by her own +fault. + +She could not stoop down to cry on Smut's back now; it would have risked +considerable more dirtying of her poor frock. But she stayed some way +behind her mother and sister, so that she might talk without being +overheard by any one save her four-legged companion. + +'Smuttie,' she said, 'I'm very unhappy. This is only the second day at +Seacove and I've vexed mamma already. I made good resol---- never mind; +_you_ know what I mean, Smut--to begin new here, and it's all gone. I +don't know what to do, Smuttie, I truly don't. Alie means to be kind, +but it's quite easy for her to be good, I think. And it's no good me +trying. It really isn't, so I think I'll just leave off and be +comfortable.' + +Smut looked up and wagged his tail. He was quite ready to agree with +anything Biddy proposed, so long as she spoke cheerfully and did not +cry. + +'Good little Smuttie, kind little Smut,' said the child; 'you're so nice +and understanding always.' + +But Smut seemed restless; he fidgeted about in front of Bride, first +running a step or two, then stopping to wag his tail and look back +appealingly at her in an insinuating doggy way of his own. Biddy +pretended not to know what he meant, but she could not long keep up this +feint. + +'I do know what you want,' she said at last with a sigh. 'It's a scamper, +and I hate running, and I'm sure you know I do. But I suppose I must do +it to please you. You won't roar after me like Rough, anyway.' + +And off she set, her short legs exerting themselves valiantly for +Smuttie's sake. He of course could have run much faster, but he was far +too much of a gentleman to do so, and he stayed beside her, contenting +himself every now and then by stopping short to look up at her, with a +quick cheery bark of satisfaction and encouragement. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A TRYING CHILD + + 'I think words are little live creatures, + A species of mischievous elves.' + _Child Nature._ + + +Bride and Smuttie did not overtake Mrs. Vane and Rosalys, for they were +running towards the sea, whereas the others were walking straight along +the shore. But the dog's bark and the sound once or twice of the child's +voice speaking to him came clearly through the still winter air. + +Mrs. Vane stopped for a moment and looked after them. She and Alie had +been talking about Bridget as they walked. + +'There she is again,' said her mother, 'as merry and thoughtless as can +be. That is the worst of her, Alie, you can make no impression on her.' + +'I don't think it's quite that, mamma,' Rosalys replied, 'though I know +it often seems so. She was really very, very sorry about her frock. And +she's so young--she's not eight yet, mamma.' + +'You were quite different at eight,' answered Mrs. Vane. 'Just +think--that time I was so ill and papa was away. You were barely seven, +and what a thoughtful, careful little body you were! I shall never +forget waking up early one morning and seeing a little white figure +stealthily putting coal on the fire, which was nearly out; taking up the +lumps with its own little cold hands not to make a noise. My good little +Alie!' and she stroked the hand that lay on her arm fondly. + +Rosalys smiled up at her. She loved her mother to speak so to her, but +still her heart was sore for Biddy. + +'I believe--I _know_ Biddy would be just as loving to you, mamma, if she +knew how,' she said. 'But it is true that she's very provoking. Perhaps +it would be different if she had brothers and sisters younger than +herself--then she'd _have_ to feel herself big and--as if it mattered +what she did.' + +'Responsible, you mean,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Yes, that is the best +training. But we can't provide small brothers and sisters ready-made for +Biddy, and I am very well contented with the three I have got! It might +be a good thing if she had some companions nearer her own age, but even +that has its difficulties. Just think of the scrapes she got into that +time I sent her to your aunt's for a fortnight! Why, she was sent home +in disgrace for--what was it for--I forget? Biddy's scrapes are so +many.' + +'For taking the two smallest children to bathe in the pond before +breakfast, wasn't it?' said Alie. + +'Oh yes--after having half killed their valuable Persian cat by feeding +it with cheese-cakes, or something of the kind,' added Mrs. Vane. + +But she could not help smiling a little. Alie had already seen that she +was softening; whenever mamma called Bridget 'Biddy,' she knew it was a +good sign. + +'There is one comfort,' said the elder sister, in her motherly way, +'Biddy has a _terribly_ kind heart. She is never naughty out of--out of +_naughtiness_. But oh, mamma, let us wait a minute; the sunset is +beginning.' + +And so indeed it was. Over there--far out, over the western sea, the +cold, quiet, winter sea, the sun was growing red as he slowly sank, till +he seemed to kiss the ocean, which glowed, blushing, in return. It was +all red and gray to-night--red and gray only, though there were grandly +splendid sunsets at Seacove sometimes, when every shade and colour which +light can show to our eyes shone out as if a veil were drawn back from +the mysterious glory we may but glimpse at. But the red and gray were +very beautiful in their way, and the unusual stillness, broken only by +the soft monotonous lap, lap, of the wavelets as they rippled themselves +into nothing on the sand, seemed to suit the gentle tones of the sky. +And some way off, nearer the sea, seeming farther away than they really +were, as they stood right in the ruddy trail of light, were two little +figures, both looking black by contrast, though in point of fact only +one was so. They were Bridget and Smut, both apparently absorbed in +admiring the sunset. + +'Isn't it beautiful, Smuttie?' Biddy was saying. 'It's the sun going to +bed, you know, dear.' + +Smut wagged his tail. + +'It's so pretty,' she continued, 'that it makes me think I'd like to be +good. P'raps I'd better fix to try again after all--what do you think, +Smut?' + +Repeated and more energetic tail-wagging, accompanied this time by a +short sharp bark. Smut has had enough of the sunset and standing still; +he wants to be off again. But Bride interprets his response in her own +way. + +'You think it would be better?--thank you, dear, for saying so. You are +so nice, Smut, for always understanding. Well, I will then, and I'll +begin by telling mamma I'm dreadfully sorry about my frock. Good-night, +sun--I wish I lived out in the lighthouse--one could see the sun right +down in the sea out there, I should think. I wonder if he stays in the +sea all night till he comes up at the other side in the morning? No--I +don't think he can though, for it says in my jography that it's sunshine +at the other side of the world when it's night here, so he can't stay in +the sea. I must ask Alie--p'raps it's not the same sun as in London.' + +She turned, followed by Smut, who, failing to persuade her to another +scamper, consoled himself by poking his nose into the sand in search of +unknown dainties which I fear were not to be found. The pair came up to +Mrs. Vane and Rosalys, who seemed to be waiting for them. + +'Mamma,' Biddy began, in a very contrite tone, 'I've been thinking and +I want to tell you I am truly and really very, _very_ sorry about my +frock. I didn't mean not to seem sorry. I can't think how it got torn, +for Alie didn't tear hers, and she was playing about just the same.' + +'I don't know either, Biddy,' said her mother. 'It is just the old +story, you must be more careful. Perhaps, to go back to the beginning, +it would have been better to change to an old frock if you meant to romp +about; _or_, it would have been better still perhaps, not to romp when +you knew you had a good frock on.' + +'That was my fault, mamma,' Alie put in. + +'Well, we must try and get the mischief repaired, and let us hope it +will be a reminder to you, Biddy, every time you wear this frock.' + +Bridget murmured something; she meant to be very good. But when she got +a little behind her mother and Alie again she gave herself a shake. + +'I shouldn't like that at all,' she thought. 'I should hate this frock +if it was always to remind me. I think mamma is rather like the mamma in +_Rosamund_ when she speaks that way, and I'm like Rosamund on her day of +misfortunes, only all my days are days of misfortunes. But I do think +I'm nicer than she was.' + +As they reached the edge of the shore, where a gate opened into a +pathway through a field to the Rectory itself, Mrs. Vane stopped to look +across once more at the sunset. + +'Yes, he is just going--just. Look, children.' + +Alie turned too, but Biddy walked on. + +'I don't want to look again,' she said. 'I've said good-night to him +once.' + +Mrs. Vane glanced at Rosalys. + +'What's the matter now?' her glance seemed to say. + +Rosalys smiled back. + +'It isn't naughtiness,' she whispered. 'It's only some fancy.' + +And so it was. + +'I said good-night to him when I'd fixed to try to be good,' Bride was +saying to herself, 'and if I look at him again now it'll undo the +fixing. Besides, I've begun to feel a little naughty again already--I +don't like Rosamund's mamma.' + +As they walked up the path, Smut, who was really Mrs. Vane's dog and had +got his own ideas as to etiquette, returned to his mistress's side and +trotted along gravely. He knew that his chances of scampers were over +for the day, for not even the most ardent runner could have crossed the +field at full speed without coming to grief. It was rough and stony, +and to call it a field was a figure of speech; the soil was nothing but +sand, and the grass was of the coarsest. But the Rectory stood on rather +rising ground, and old Dr. Bunton and his wife had fortunately been fond +of gardening. The lawn on the farther side of the house was very +respectable, and more flowers and shrubs had been coaxed to grow than +could have been expected. Still, to newcomers fresh from a comfortable +town-house--and there is no denying that as far as comfort goes a +town-house in winter has many advantages over a small country one--it +did look somewhat dreary and desolate. All the brightness had gone out +of the sky by now; it loomed blue-gray behind the chimneys, and a faint +murmuring as of wind in the distance getting up its forces began to be +heard. + +Mrs. Vane shivered a little. + +'I do hope your father and Randolph will be in soon,' she said. 'It may +be very mild here, but it strikes me as chilly all the same. I really +don't think it is wise to stay out so late, and it has been so almost +unnaturally still all day, I shouldn't wonder if it was setting in for +stormy weather.' + +Biddy's eyes sparkled. + +'I would so like,' she was beginning, but she suddenly checked herself. +'Are there always shipwrecks when there's storms?' she asked. + +'I fear so,' her mother replied. + +'Then I mustn't like storms, I suppose,' said the child. 'It's very +tiresome--everything's made the wrong way.' + +'Bridget, take care what you're saying,' Mrs. Vane said almost sternly. + +Biddy's face did not pucker up, but a dark look came over it, taking +away all the pleasant brightness and the merry eagerness of the gray +eyes. She did not often look like that, fortunately, for it made her +almost ugly. And though her face cleared a little after a while, still +it was gloomy, like the darkening sky outside, when she followed Alie +downstairs to tea, after they had taken off their things and the torn +frock had been changed. + +Things had hardly got into their regular order yet at Seacove Rectory. +The Vanes had only been there three days, and every one knows that the +troubles of a removal, especially to a considerable distance, are very +much aggravated when it takes place in midwinter. It was not to be +wondered at that 'mamma' felt both tired and rather dispirited. She was +a little homesick too, for mammas can feel homesick as well as both boys +and girls; and indeed I would not take upon myself to say that 'papas' +are quite above this weakness either. Christmas time had been spent at +Mrs. Vane's old home, a warm, cheery, old-fashioned country-house, where +grandpapa and grandmamma were still hale and hearty, and never so happy +as when surrounded by their grandchildren. This old home of mamma's was +within easy access of London too; no wonder, therefore, that the remote +seaside rectory seemed a kind of exile to Mrs. Vane, though the reasons +that had made Mr. Vane accept the offer of Seacove had been very +important ones. + +Rosalys, and Randolph too, though in a less thoughtful way, understood +all this, and both of the elder children were anxious to help and cheer +their parents to the best of their ability. And as all children love +change, and most children enjoy, for a time at least, the freedom and +independence of the country, it was much less trying for them than for +their father and mother. To Bridget the idea of coming to live +altogether at the seaside was one of unmixed pleasure. She dearly loved +the sea, and all she had hitherto known of it was in pleasant summer +weather, and at a bright amusing little place called Rockcliffe. +Seacove was certainly not exactly what she had expected; still, +sand-hills and a great stretch of splendid shore were not to be +despised. I feel sure, however, that young as she was she would have +sympathised with her mother, and tried 'extra' hard not to vex her, had +she known more about it all. But very little had been explained to her; +indeed, Rosalys had been forbidden to say much about the reasons for the +change to her little sister. 'She is such a baby for her age, and so +heedless,' said Mrs. Vane. In treating Bride thus, I think her mother +made a mistake. + +The children's tea was laid out in the dining-room, for the schoolroom +was still in a chaotic state, and Miss Millet, the governess, was not +coming back for another week yet. And in the meantime mamma, and papa +too, sometimes had tea with the little girls and Randolph. + +The fire was burning brightly and the table looked inviting when Mrs. +Vane came downstairs. Alie had hurried down to see to it all; she knew +what a difference a little care makes sometimes--how a crumpled-looking +table-cloth or untidily placed dishes will add to low spirits when any +one is not feeling as bright and cheerful as usual. There were still +some of grandmamma's good things, which she had had packed in a hamper +for the first start at the new rectory--home-made cakes and honey and +fresh butter, the very sight of which made one hungry! + +Rosalys glanced at her mother, and was pleased to see that the sweet +face looked rather brighter and less anxious as she stood for a moment +at the fire warming her hands. + +'There is one comfort in this house, inconvenient though it is in many +ways,' said Mrs. Vane, 'the chimneys don't smoke. And close to the sea +as it is, one could scarcely have wondered if they had done so. If only +it really does your father as much good as the doctors said, I am sure +I shall get to like it.' + +'Yes indeed,' Alie agreed. 'Mamma dear, won't you sit down and let me +pour out your tea?' + +'The wind is really rising,' said Mrs. Vane. 'I wish they would come +in--papa and Rough. It would be such a pity if he caught cold,' she +added with a little sigh. + +Something in the tone and the sigh caught Biddy's attention. She was +sitting at the table more silent than usual, very much absorbed, in +fact, with her own grievances. What did mamma mean? + +'Is papa ill?' she asked abruptly. + +Alie glanced at her, frowning slightly. Her mother turned quickly. + +'What a strange question to ask, Bride,' she said; 'it is just like +you--you cannot but know that papa is not at all strong.' + +Biddy looked puzzled. 'Strong' to her meant vaguely being able to lift +heavy weights, or things of that kind. + +'I didn't know he was _ill_,' she replied. 'I didn't know big people +were ill except for going to die, like our 'nother grandmamma. Papa's +had the measles and chicken-pox when he was little, hasn't he? I thought +it was only children that could be ill to get better like that.' + +Mrs. Vane glanced at Rosalys in a sort of despair. But before Alie could +say anything to smooth matters, her mother called Bridget from her seat +and made her stand before her. + +'Bridget,' she said, 'I don't know what to say to you. Have you no heart +or feeling at all? How _can_ you say such things. I do not believe in +your not understanding; you can understand when you choose, and you are +nearly eight years old. You must know how miserably anxious I have been +and still am about your father; you _must_ know it is for his health we +have come to this strange, dreary place, away from every one we care +for, and you can talk in that cold-hearted, cold-blooded way about dying +and not getting better and--and----' Mrs. Vane's voice trembled and +quivered. She seemed almost as if she were going to cry. Alie came and +stood beside her, gently putting her arm round her mother and looking +daggers at Bride. Mamma was nervous and over-tired, she knew; she had +had so much to go through lately. How could Biddy be so naughty and +unfeeling? And yet, as the words passed through her mind, Rosalys +hesitated. Biddy was not really unfeeling--it was not the word for her. +It was more as if she would not take the trouble to feel or to +understand anything that was not her own special concern; there was a +queer kind of laziness about her, which led to selfishness. It was as if +her mind and heart were asleep sometimes. + +But she could feel. Her face was all puckered up now; there was no +temper or sullenness about it, but real pale-faced distress. + +'Mamma,' she said brokenly, 'I didn't, oh, truly, I didn't mean it that +way. I know papa isn't old enough to die; but I thought he was too big +to be ill like that.' + +'Biddy,' said Alie sternly, 'you are talking nonsense again. You know +big people are ill often, and sometimes they get better and sometimes +they die. Don't you remember Mrs. Hay--Meta Hay's mamma? She was ill +and----' + +'Yes, I quite forgot,' exclaimed Biddy eagerly; 'I didn't think. Yes, +Meta's mamma was very ill, and she died. I wish I'd remembered; and she +wasn't at all old like Grandmamma Vane.' + +She spoke almost cheerfully. Again Mrs. Vane glanced at her elder +daughter. + +'It's no use,' she was beginning, but Alie interrupted. How she wished +the unfortunate Mrs. Hay had not been the first instance to occur to +her! + +'_Children_ get ill and die too sometimes,' Alie went on, 'and big +people very often get better. There was Captain Leonard next door to us +at home----' + +'And--I know--the boy-that-brought-the-potatoes' papa,' cried Biddy. 'I +_am_ so glad I thought of him. I was in the kitchen one morning fetching +sand for Tweetums's cage and he came in, and cook asked how was his +papa, and he said, "Finely better, I thank ye, mum." I think cook said +he was a _Hirish_ boy,' Bridget hurried on in her excitement--and when +she was excited I am afraid her 'h's' were apt to suffer--Mrs. Vane +gasped! 'I am _so_ glad I thought of him. Papa will get better like the +potato boy's father. I'll say it in my prayers. Dear mamma, I won't +forget. And I _will_ try to be good and not tear my frocks nor speak +without thinking.' + +The tears were coming now, but Biddy knew mamma did not like her to +begin to cry, and truly it was no wonder, for once she began it was by +no means easy to say when she would leave off! She choked them down as +well as she could. And the little face, hot and flushed now, was timidly +raised to her mother's for a kiss of forgiveness. + +It was not refused, but a sigh accompanied it, which went to the child's +heart. But there was no time for more, as at that moment the hall door +was heard to open and Mr. Vane's and Rough's voices sounded outside. + +Quite subdued, desperately penitent, Bridget went back to her place. Her +head was full as well as her heart. She had so many things to think over +that she felt as if she could not eat. First and foremost was the +strange newly awakened anxiety about her father. She looked at him as he +came in as she had never looked at him before, almost expecting to see +some great and appalling change in his appearance. But no--he seemed +much as usual--his face was indeed reddened a little by his brisk walk +in the chill air, and his voice was as cheery as ever. Biddy gave a +loud, most audible sigh of relief. Mr. Vane started and interrupted +himself in the middle of a lively account of the adventures he and +Randolph had met with in their walk. + +'My dear Biddy,' he said. 'What _can_ you have to sigh about in that +appalling way?' + +Bridget opened her mouth as if to speak, but Rosalys, trembling as to +what she might not be going to say, interrupted. + +'Please, papa, don't ask her just now,' she said; 'do go on telling us +about what sort of a place Seacove is,' and she added in a whisper, as +she gave a little private tug to his sleeve, 'Biddy's been +rather--tiresome, and if she begins to cry----' + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +BIDDY HAS SOME NEW THOUGHTS + + 'O, children take long to grow.' + JEAN INGELOW. + + +Mr. Vane nodded in token of comprehending Alie's hint. + +'You must walk to Seacove to-morrow and see it for yourselves,' he said. + +'That is to say if it is fine,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Doesn't it look stormy +to-night?' + +'The wind is getting up, but that one must expect at this time of the +year, and a good blow now and then won't hurt the girls. I feel ever so +much the better for the touch of it we had this afternoon. I'm certain +it is a very healthy place.' + +Mrs. Vane smiled a little. + +'I have noticed that that is generally said of places that have nothing +else to recommend them. But no,' she went on, 'I must not begin by +finding fault. If it proves to us a health-giving place I certainly +shall like it, whatever else it is or is not. Did you go into the church +this afternoon?' + +'Just for a moment. Rough wanted to glance at it,' Mr. Vane replied, his +tone sounding rather less cheerful. + +'It looked very dingy and dismal,' Randolph said. 'It's all high pews +and high-up windows, you know, mamma. Papa says it must have been built +at the very ugliest time for churches, before they began to improve at +all.' + +'And there is nothing to be done to it,' said Mr. Vane. 'Even if we +could attempt it and had the money, there would be endless difficulties +in the way of prejudice and old associations to overcome.' + +'And it is not as if we were really settled here,' said the children's +mother. 'You must not take the church to heart, Bernard; you could +scarcely expect anything better in a place like this.' + +'No--it will be slow work to bring about any improvement in outlying +places of this kind certainly,' Mr. Vane agreed. Then he brightened up a +little. 'There is a very good organ, and I met the organist. He seems +very hearty and eager.' + +'That's a good thing. How did you come across him?' asked Mrs. Vane. + +'We went to the stationer's to order the newspapers. I might of course +have had them straight from town, but I think it is right to get what +one can in the place, and it helps me to get to know the people a +little. The organist--Redding is his name--was in the shop; I fancy he's +a bit of a gossip, for he looked rather guilty when we went in, just as +if they had been talking about us, and then he introduced himself. He's +coming up to have a talk with me to-morrow.' + +'It is quite a nice shop,' said Randolph. 'I expect it has some of the +College custom. I saw some books with the College crest on lying about. +You can get painting things there, Alie,' he added. + +Rosalys looked interested, and Biddy's face grew some degrees less long. + +'Is there a toy-shop?' she asked. + +'There's better than a toy-shop--a wonderful sort of place they call a +bazaar,' Rough replied. 'You may walk all round and look at the things +without having to buy, and there's one part where all the toys are only +a penny.' + +Biddy clasped her hands in ecstasy. + +'Oh, mamma,' she said, '_may_ we go and see it to-morrow? Oh, I'm sure +Seacove is ever so much nicer than London!' + +Mr. Vane smiled. + +'How many pennies have you got to spend, Biddy?' he said. + +Biddy's face sobered again, and the corners of her mouth went down. + +'I've got two,' she said in a very meek voice, 'and there would have +been another to-morrow, that's Saturday, if--I--hadn't----' + +'What?' asked Mr. Vane. + +'Tore my frock,' said Biddy very slowly. + +'_Torn_, if you please,' said her father. 'Well, suppose mamma lets you +off as it's the first Saturday at Seacove, that will be threepence, and +suppose I give you three pennies more, that will be sixpence--with +sixpence you could make important purchases at the penny counter, could +she not, Rough?' + +'Certainly, I should say,' Randolph replied. + +Bridget's face crimsoned with pleasure. She got up from her seat and ran +round to the arm-chair by the fire where Mr. Vane was quietly sipping +his tea, and at the imminent risk of throwing it all over him, flung her +arms round his neck. + +'Oh, thank you, papa, _dear_ papa,' she said, 'dear, dear papa, and I do +_so_ hope you'll be like the boy-that-brought-the-potatoes' papa, and +I'm going always to be good now, always.' + +Poor Mr. Vane disengaged himself and his tea-cup with some difficulty +from his little daughter's embraces. To his surprise, when he could +manage to see her face, there were tears in her eyes. He was touched but +at the same time rather apprehensive; it was ticklish work when Biddy's +floodgates were opened. + +'My poor little woman,' he said; 'yes, it's quite right to make good +resolutions. But, remember, Rome wasn't built in a day, Bride; you'll +have to keep up your courage and go on trying. But what's all that about +boys and potatoes?' + +Biddy grew red; she felt by instinct that she must not tell over all the +conversation; mamma would be vexed. + +'I only meant----' and she hesitated. + +'Biddy knew a little greengrocer boy in London who was very fond of his +father,' said Rosalys quickly. + +'Never mind about that just now,' Mrs. Vane added. 'I have several +things I want to ask you about your study. If you have finished your +tea, will you come in there with me? The work-people about here are +rather stupid, I'm afraid, Bernard. They don't the least understand +about the book-shelves.' + +'Don't worry yourself about it,' Mr. Vane replied. 'Things will get +straight by degrees. I'm afraid you have much more trouble now that +M'Creagh's gone.' + +M'Creagh was Mrs. Vane's 'old maid,' as the children called her. She had +been with her since Mrs. Vane's childhood, and had lately given up her +right to the title by getting married, to the great regret of everybody +except, I _fear_, Biddy. For M'Creagh had 'managed' the little girl in a +wonderful way; that is to say, she had kept her in order, and Biddy very +much preferred being left to her own devices. + +Mrs. Vane sat down on the low couch--one end of which was covered with +piles of books,--they were in the study by this time. + +'Yes,' she said, 'I miss M'Creagh, but my real trouble just now, +Bernard, is Biddy. I am afraid I don't take the right way with her, +somehow. She is so tiresomely heedless and provoking, and sometimes +I really wonder if she has any heart.' + +Mr. Vane looked up in surprise, in which there was a little touch of +indignation, at this. Fresh from Bridget's loving hugs and the sight of +the tears in her eyes, he could hardly be expected to agree with this +opinion of her. + +'My dear,' he said, 'I think you are not fair upon her. I really can't +help saying so. The poor child is heedless and provoking to a degree, +but she is very affectionate.' + +Mrs. Vane did not seem annoyed; she was, on the contrary, rather glad of +what Mr. Vane said. + +'Yes, she seems so sometimes, and I hope it is only her +childishness--but it is so impossible to make any lasting impression on +her. And I don't see how things are to improve with her. Rosalys was a +perfect little woman at her age. Bridget thinks of _nothing_--I have +seen it so much since we came here and during the bustle of the removal +from London. She lives like a complete baby--perhaps it is partly that +Alie is so unusually thoughtful and helpful, a real right-hand to me, +and Rough too for a boy is very sensible. So Biddy goes her own way, +nothing is expected of her, and she certainly fulfils the expectation,' +she wound up with a half smile. + +Mr. Vane sat silent. + +'She might be better with some companionship of her own age,' he said +in a few minutes. 'The give-and-take of even childish companionship is a +kind of training and discipline. As it is, she is almost like an only +child. Now, if Alie were away for a while, Bridget would have to try to +take her place.' + +'I could not do without Alie, not just now certainly,' said Mrs. Vane +decidedly. 'We must just hope that somehow time will improve Bridget.' + +'And don't be too hard on her,' said her father. 'I feel sure she means +well.' + +'When she means anything,' replied Mrs. Vane; 'but she seldom thinks +enough for that.' + +'I don't know about that,' said Mr. Vane doubtfully, 'still----' + +But then something in the arrangement of the book-shelves caught his +eye, and no more was said of Biddy for the time. + +Papa did not forget. Bridget got her fourpence the next day, a penny +from mamma and threepence from papa. And all troubles were thrown to the +winds, torn frocks and everything disagreeable forgotten, when she set +off with Rosalys and Randolph, under their maid's charge, for a visit to +Seacove, the wonderful bazaar being the real object of the walk. + +Only a very slight misgiving came over her as papa stooped to kiss her +in the doorway; they met him on their way out. + +'Be a sensible little woman to-day, my Biddy,' he said, 'and don't get +into any scrapes to worry your mamma.' + +The child looked up into his face. Was it the yellowish morning light +from over the sea--for it was clear and bright though cold--that made +papa's face so pale? And yesterday he had looked so nice and rosy--Biddy +felt rather strange; for the first time in her little life there came +over her a faint, very faint shadow of _the_ shadow which, as we grow +older, we learn cannot be avoided; the wings of the solemn angel seemed +for an instant to brush her softly. Biddy trembled without understanding +why. + +'Papa, dear papa,' she said, but somehow no other words would come. + +He kissed her again, and he smiled. It seemed to brighten up his face. +Bridget gave a sigh of relief: the potato boy's papa had got well, and +very likely he too looked pale sometimes. Still that strange breath of +feeling had left some result. + +'Alie,' she said, as she trotted down the garden path beside her sister, +the sixpence tightly clasped in her hand, 'is there anything I could get +for a present for two of my pennies? I want to get some of the toys for +myself with papa's three pennies, and I want to get a thimble with one, +'cos I've lost mine, and my workbox is messy-looking.' + +'You can't get a proper one for a penny, not a silver one, and mamma +says imitation ones are bad to wear,' said Rosalys. 'I've got my first +thimble that's too small now--it's real silver. I'll give it you, and +that'll leave you threepence for your present. But who's it for?' + +'Three pennies won't do,' said Biddy. 'It must be two pennies, 'cos it's +for papa, and he gave me three pennies, and it would just be like giving +it him back again.' + +Rosalys and Randolph glanced at each other. They could scarcely believe +it was thoughtless Biddy speaking. + +'Yes, I quite understand,' said Alie. 'Let's see--what could you get for +papa? Can't you help us, Rough?' + +Rough considered deeply. + +'A purse--no, that would be too dear--or an inkstand?' he said. + +'I'm sure an inkstand would be far dearer,' said Alie sharply. 'You're +no good, Rough. I daresay we'll see something there, Biddy dear. I'll +not forget.' + +Bride felt very pleased. She was in high favour with Rosalys, she could +see. She began jumping up and down the little grass-covered sandy +hillocks that bordered the road, scarcely more than a cart-track, across +the common between the Rectory and the little town. + +'There's a shorter way if we turn, a little farther on,' said Rough. 'We +can either get on to the road above the shore--it's a proper road--or +cut across a very sandy place, much sandier than the common.' + +'No,' said Alie, 'I'd rather go along the road even if it's farther. +Walking on sand is so tiresome, and spoils one's boots so. Biddy, I +think you'd better walk quietly: remember what papa said, and you know +you are rather unlucky.' + +It was pleasant walking along the firm, hard road, and the fresh air was +exhilarating--the sunshine, thin and wintry though it was, gilded palely +the little shallow lakes and pools left by the outgoing tide along the +shore, for it was almost low water now. Even the bare stretches of sand +did not look ugly, as they sometimes do--a touch of sunshine makes all +the difference! And the even stony path--a sort of natural breakwater +running out towards the lighthouse--here and there caught a gleam or two +from the sky. + +'It looks quite different to last night,' said Alie. 'That's one thing +I like the seaside for; it's always changing.' + +'And the wind's gone down with the tide,' said Randolph, 'though it did +blow last night. There'll be rough weather before long, everybody says.' + +'I _would_ so like to be in the lighthouse if there was a storm,' said +Biddy. 'That isn't naughty to wish, Alie, for the lighthouse is to keep +away shipwrecks. And if there just _was_ one, you know, it _would_ be +nice to be there to help the poor wet people, and carry them in to the +fire, and rub them dry with hot blankets, like in that story, you know.' + +'A lot you'd be able to carry,' said Rough contemptuously. 'Why, you're +so fat and roundabout, and your legs are so short you can scarcely carry +yourself.' + +'Rough,' began Rosalys warningly. And + +'_Alie_,' began Bridget at the same moment in her whining tone, 'do +listen to him.' + +But a peremptory 'Hush' from Randolph checked her. Both the girls looked +up. A short, rather stout, pleasant-faced man was at that moment +overtaking them. + +'Good-morning, sir,' he said as he passed, and 'Good-morning, Mr. +Redding,' returned Rough courteously, as the other lifted his hat. +Rough had very nice manners. + +'That is Redding, the organist,' said Rough. 'He's something else as +well--a tailor or a draper----' + +'"A butcher, a baker, or candlestick-maker,"' interrupted Rosalys +laughingly. She did not mean to make fun of good Mr. Redding, but she +wanted to make the others laugh too, to restore their good humour. + +'Well, something, any way,' Randolph went on. 'Papa says he's an awfully +good sort of man; he gives all his spare time to the organ for nothing.' + +'That's very nice,' said Alie approvingly. + +They were near the actual town of Seacove by this time--town or village, +it was difficult to say which, though the rows of tall masts a little +way off in the docks and the paved streets hardly seemed to suit the +idea of a village. And a few minutes more brought them to what was +ambitiously called the 'Parade,' where stood the long low bazaar, with a +large placard at the door announcing that 'entrance' was 'free.' + +In summer the bazaar blossomed out into twice its winter size, thanks to +a tentlike canvas front; at present it was a building of not very +imposing appearance. But it was long in proportion to its width, and one +or two gas-jets lighted up the innermost end, even in the daytime. This +gave it a rather mysterious air, and added much to Biddy's admiration. + +'It's a _lovely_ place,' she whispered to the others in an almost +awestruck tone. Rough felt much gratified; he considered the bazaar his +own 'find.' He set to work very graciously to do the honours of it, and +led the way slowly between the two sloping-upwards counters or tables at +each side, on which were arranged the more important and expensive +wares--china vases, glass, English and foreign, some of it really quaint +and uncommon, such as was not, in those days at least, to be often met +with in regular shops, workboxes and desks of various kinds; +papier-mâché writing-books, a few clocks; jewelry, a little real, a +great deal imitation, in glass-lidded cases; and so on. And down the +centre stood groups of walking-sticks, camp-stools, croquet-sets, and +such like. + +'Usefuller' things, as Biddy afterwards told her mother, were not +wanting either. Hair-brushes and combs, metal teapots, and lots of gaily +painted trays were among them. And some very magnificent dolls gazed +down with their bright unblinking eyes at the whole from a high +position, where they and the larger, more costly toys were placed. + +It was all very imposing, very breath-taking-away, and Biddy's eyes +were very eager and her mouth wide open as she trotted after Alie. For +London shops were not as magnificent forty years ago as they are now; +and, besides it was not often that the little Vanes had paid a visit to +Cremer's or the arcades, which are children's delight. And then it was +here so delightfully uncrowded and quiet. The shopwoman, knowing who +they were, felt not a little honoured by their prompt visit, and beyond +a civil 'Good-morning, young ladies,' left them free to stare about and +admire as they chose. + +But they did not linger long before the objects which they knew to be +quite beyond their reach. It was the penny counter for which they were +really bound, and to which Rough piloted them with an air of great +pride. + +'There, now,' he said, waving his hand like a show-man; 'what do you say +to that, girls? All these things--everything you can see as far as +here--for a penny!' + +Biddy gasped; even Alie was impressed. + +'They're really very nice, Biddy,' she said. 'And oh, look, what nice +dolls' furniture! What a pity, Biddy, you don't care for dolls!' + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CELESTINA + + 'Little china tea-things and delightful dinner-sets; + Trumpets, drums, and baby-horses; balls in coloured nets.' + _What the Toys do at Night._ + + +Just as she said these words Rosalys became conscious that some one else +was standing beside her. She looked round. A little girl, simply but +neatly dressed, had come into the bazaar, and had made her way +noiselessly up to where the Rectory children stood. She was a slight, +delicate-looking child, taller than Bridget, though not seemingly much +older. She had large, earnest, perhaps somewhat wistful, brown eyes, +which made her face attractive and interesting when you looked at it +closely, though at first sight it was too small and pale to catch one's +attention. She stood there quietly and very grave, her eyes fixed on +Alie Vane's lovely and sweet face, yet without the slightest shadow of +forwardness or freedom in her gaze. An expression of great surprise, +mingled with a little pity, flitted across her when she heard the elder +girl's words--'What a pity, Biddy, you don't care for dolls!' and it was +with intense interest she listened to Bridget's reply. + +'I would care for them, Alie, if I had any one to play at them with me. +But you think you're too big--I think you've always thought yourself too +big--and Rough's a boy. So how could I care for dolls all alone?' + +Bride's voice had taken the peculiar little whine it always did when she +was at all put out. It was comical and yet a little irritating; but just +now neither Rosalys nor Randolph was inclined to be irritated. Alie only +laughed. + +'Well, I'm not forcing you to play with dolls, nor to buy them,' she +said. 'Only these little tiny chairs are so funny.' + +A voice behind her made her start. Yet it was a very soft, rather timid +little voice. + +'You can play much nicer with little dolls alone--a good many little +dolls--than with one or two big ones,' it said. + +Biddy turned round and stared at the small maiden. She did not mean to +be rude; she was only surprised and curious; but her rosy cheeks and +round eyes looked much less sweet and gentle than Alie's pretty face and +soft long-lashed blue eyes, which had always a rather appealing +expression. Biddy opened her mouth but did not speak. The little +stranger grew very red. Rosalys spoke to her gently. + +'Yes,' she said, 'I should think little dolls would be much more amusing +to play with alone. You could make them act things, and you could make +houses for them. Biddy, wouldn't you like to furnish our old doll-house +fresh?' + +'I don't know,' said Biddy rather surlily. 'You'd call me a baby.' + +'Indeed I wouldn't,' said Alie eagerly. 'It would be such a nice play +for you. You might buy two or three of those sweet little chairs as a +beginning.' + +'They are particular nice,' put in the shopwoman. 'It isn't often +they're made so small, not so cheap. And what were you wanting this +morning, my dear?' she went on to the little newcomer. + +'If you please, I want two of them--of the chairs,' the child replied, +holding out two pennies. Her face was still rather red, but she glanced +with admiration mingled with gratitude at Rosalys. + +The shopwoman handed her the two little chairs, but she did not seem +quite satisfied. + +'Would you like to choose for yourself?' said the woman with a smile. +She seemed used to the ways and manners of small customers--of this +small customer especially, perhaps--and she made way for her as the +little girl, well pleased, came close to the counter. Then for a minute +or two the child stood absorbed, weighing the comparative merits of blue +and pink cotton chair seats, and of dark and light coloured wood. At +last, with a little sigh of mingled anxiety and satisfaction, she held +out two to the woman. + +'These, please,' she said; and, without waiting for her purchases to be +wrapped up, she turned, and with a glance at the other children, a +shadowy smile for half an instant wavering over her face, she quietly +made her way out of the shop. + +'Poor little girl,' said Rosalys. 'You quite frightened her when she +spoke, Bridget. Why did you glare at her so?' + +'I didn't glare at her; you're very unkind, Alie, to say so,' said +Biddy, in her complaining tone. + +'Oh, I say, Biddy, don't be so grumpy,' Randolph put in, 'and do fix +what you're going to buy. There's something over here that papa would +like, I know. A whistle, such a jolly strong one, and only two-pence. It +would do for him to call me in by, and much less trouble than ringing +that clumsy bell.' + +Biddy went off to look at the whistle. It was a very neat one, in the +shape of a dog's head, and she at once decided upon it, for she had +great faith in Rough's opinion as to what papa would like. Then ensued +another weighty consultation at the penny stall, where Alie had meantime +bought a pair of tiny dolls, which she meant to dress in secret as a +'surprise' for her little sister--'it would be so nice if she took to +dressing dolls for herself,' she thought--and a yard measure for +herself. Bridget's perplexities ended in the purchase of one of the neat +little chairs and a small table and a tiny china dog. + +'They'd be pretty as ornaments on my mantelpiece even if I never have a +doll-house,' she said. 'And if I did have the doll-house done up, it +_must_ have a dog, to keep watch, you know, Alie.' + +At the entrance of the bazaar they ran against Mr. Redding. He looked +hot and hurried and was walking very fast, but at sight of them he +stopped suddenly, and then, came up to Randolph. + +'_Would_ you excuse me, sir,' he began, 'if I were to ask you a great +favour? I have just been at the Rectory to see Mr. Vane and I am +hurrying off to Brewton by the next train, for unfortunately there is +something wrong with one of the organ stops and I must get a man to come +over at once. It would never do not to be able to use the organ properly +the first Sunday Mr. Vane is here. I find it later than I thought, and +I had undertaken to leave this note at Mr. Fairchild's in Pier Street for +the rector. You will pass there on your way home, unless you +particularly want to go by Sandy Common?' + +'Oh no,' said Rough, 'we don't mind. Of course I'll leave it for you, +Mr. Redding. Is there an answer?' + +But Mr. Redding, having thrust the note into the boy's hands, was +already some paces off. He called out some rather incoherent reply, of +which 'thank you, thank you,' were the only intelligible words. + +'What a fussy little man,' said Alie. 'But papa said he was proud of his +organ, and it would be horrid at church without it. Which is Pier +Street, Rough, do you know?' + +'Not a bit of it--nor which is Mr. Fairchild's shop, or if it is a shop. +He only said at Mr. Fairchild's,' replied Randolph. 'I suppose any one +can tell us however; it's not like London.' + +The 'Parade' at its farther end turned into the docks. The children +walked on, tempted by the sight of the tall masts in front of them. + +'Wouldn't I like to see over some of those ships,' said Rough. Just then +a little group of sailors, looking little more than boys for the most +part, in spite of their bronzed and sunburnt skin, passed them, +chattering and whistling cheerily. They belonged to a vessel but newly +arrived from some southern port. One could see how happy they were to be +on English ground again--some of them maybe belonged to Seacove itself. + +'Would you like to be a sailor, Rough?' said Alie. + +Randolph hesitated. + +'No, I don't think so, but I like seeing ships and hearing about +voyages.' + +'_I'd_ like to be a sailor,' said Bridget suddenly. Rosalys and her +brother could not help laughing. + +'What a funny sailor you'd make,' they said. And indeed it was not easy +to imagine her short, compact, roundabout figure climbing up masts and +darting about with the monkey-like swiftness of a smart little middy. + +'I don't think you'd like it for long, Miss Biddy,' said Jane, the +young maid. 'I came once, in my last place, from Scotland by sea, and +though I wasn't at all ill, it was dreadful rough work. I was glad to +feel my feet on firm land again.' + +'Was it very stormy?' asked all the children together. 'And how long +were you in the ship? Oh, do tell us about it, Jane.' + +Jane's value rose immensely on the spot. She was not a particularly +lively girl generally, but this was quite a discovery. + +'Was it a very big ship?' asked Bridget, 'or quite a teeny-weeny one, +just big enough to hold all of us like?' + +'You stupid little goose,' said Rough. 'You mean a boat--a _ship_ is +never as little as that.' + +'Boats and ships is all the same,' Biddy persisted; 'and I heard papa +say there was a Scotch boat to Seacove twice a week--there now, Rough.' + +'Oh well--but that's only a way of speaking. Papa didn't mean a real +boat--a little boat. Now, if we could go down those steps right among +all the ships I'd soon show you the difference.' + +'But we mustn't, Rough,' said Alie anxiously. 'Not without papa or +somebody big--any way we must ask leave first.' + +'Well, I suppose it would hardly do for you girls,' Rough replied. 'But +of course papa would let _me_ go. He and I walked all round the docks +last night, and we should have gone to the end of the pier if----' + +'Oh, that reminds me,' said Rosalys. 'Haven't we passed Pier Street? +I believe that must be it opposite. Yes, I see it put up. Now we must +find out Mr. Fairchild's. Can't you ask somebody, Rough?' + +Randolph, though he would not have confessed it, was a little shy of +accosting any of the few passers-by. Just because there were so few and +the place was so quiet, the children felt themselves rather +uncomfortably conspicuous, and they could not help noticing that here +and there the inhabitants came rather unnecessarily to their doors to +look at them as they passed. It was not done rudely, and indeed it was +only natural that the arrival of a new rector and his family at Seacove +should attract a good deal of attention, considering that old Dr. Bunton +and his wife had been fixtures there for more years than Mr. Vane +himself had been in the world. + +'Oh yes,' said Rough in an off-hand way, 'I can ask any one. But we +may as well walk on a little and look about us. If it is a shop we'll +see the name.' + +Just then there came out of a shop in front of them--a baker's, I think +it was--a small figure which walked on slowly some paces before them. + +'That's the little girl of the dolls' chairs,' exclaimed Bridget. 'Shall +I run on and ask her? I don't mind.' + +'You never do,' said Alie, and indeed Biddy was most comfortably +untroubled with shyness. + +'Yes, run on and see if she knows where it is.' + +Off trotted Biddy, her precious purchases tightly clasped in her hands. + +'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the other child. + +[Illustration: 'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the +other child. P. 75.] + +The little girl turned, and looked at Biddy full in the face with her +grave earnest eyes without speaking. And for half a moment Bridget did +feel something approaching to shyness, but it gave her a comfortable +fellow-feeling to see that the small stranger was also still carrying +the little chairs she had bought. They were not done up in paper like +Biddy's--she had not waited for that,--but she had covered them loosely +with a very clean, very diminutive pocket-handkerchief, and Bridget saw +quite well what they were. + +'Please,' Biddy went on, slightly breathless--it did not take much to +put Biddy out of breath--'please can you tell us where Mr. Fairchild's +is in this street? Rough's got a letter for him, but we don't know if +it's a shop or only a house.' + +'Mr. Fairchild's,' repeated the little girl, 'he's my father; it's our +shop. I'll show it you,' and a faint pink flush of excitement came into +her pale face. These were the Rectory young ladies, she had been sure of +it when she saw them in the bazaar. Fancy--wouldn't mother be surprised +to see them coming in with her? And father, who had said she'd maybe +never see them. Was that the French ma'amselle with them?--and Celestina +glanced back at honest Jane Dodson, from 'grandmamma's' village, walking +along in her usual rather depressed fashion--if so, French ma'amselles +were very like English nurse-maids, thought her little observer. + +'How funny!' said Biddy, quite interested. And Celestina began to like +her better--she had been rather disappointed in Biddy at the bazaar. She +was not pretty, and Celestina, though she scarcely knew it, was very +much taken by beauty, and she had been rather, almost a little rude--at +least Celestina knew that _she_ would have been told she was rude had +she behaved as Bridget had done. But now she seemed so bright and +natural--'She is quite a little girl,' thought Celestina; 'and perhaps +if she's the youngest she's treated rather like a baby.' 'How _very_ +funny!' Biddy repeated. 'I must run back and tell Alie and Rough. And +have you a doll-house, little girl, and will you show it me? I've bought +a chair too and a table. Perhaps if I saw your doll-house and +teeny-weeny dolls I'd get to like to play with them too. We have a---- +Oh, Alie,' as Alie, surprised at the length and apparent friendliness of +the conversation proceeding between the two children, hastened up. 'Oh, +Alie, _isn't_ it funny? She's his little girl. The note's for her +house.' + +Rosalys turned her soft blue eyes full on Celestina. + +'How like an angel she is!' thought Celestina. + +'Who's?' said Alie. 'Do you mean Mr. Fairchild's? Why don't you explain +properly, Biddy?' + +'Yes, that's it,' said the stranger child. 'I'm Celestina Fairchild. +I'll show you the shop.' + +'Thank you,' said the elder girl. But Biddy would scarcely let her say +the two words. Her eyes were very open, looking rounder than ever. + +'_What_ a funny name!' she exclaimed. Biddy's collection of adjectives +did not seem to be a very large one. 'Do say it again; oh, please do.' + +'Biddy, I think you are rather rude,' said Alie severely. 'You wouldn't +like any one to say your name was funny.' + +'I didn't mean----' began Bridget as usual, but Celestina quietly +interrupted. + +'I don't mind; she's only a little girl. Don't be vexed with her,' she +said to Alie with a sort of childish dignity that seemed to suit her. 'I +think my name _is_ funny; mother called it me 'cos--, but p'raps we'd +better go on. I've been out a good while and mother might be wondering +what I was doing, and then if the letter for father matters much----' + +'Yes,' said Alie; 'you're quite right; we'd better be quick.' + +So the little party set off again up the street. Biddy and +Celestina--for now that Biddy's interest was awakened in the stranger +child she had no idea of giving her up to the others--in front; Rosalys +and her brother following; Jane Dodson, discreet and resigned, bringing +up the rear. + +They had not far to walk, but Bridget's tongue made the most of its +opportunities. + +'Have you got a doll-house, then?' she inquired of Celestina; and as the +little girl shook her head rather dolefully in reply, 'What do you get +furniture' (Biddy called it 'fenniture') 'for, then? Is it for +ornaments?' + +'No; I've got a room, though not a doll-house,' Celestina replied. 'It +once was a kitchen, but I played with it too much when I was little, and +the things got spoilt. So father did it up for me with new paper like a +parlour--a best parlour, you know. Not a parlour like you use every +day.' + +'I don't know what a parlour is,' said Biddy; 'we haven't got one at the +Rectory, and we hadn't one in London either. We've only got a +schoolroom, and a dining-room, and a droind-room, and a study for papa, +and----' + +'I forgot,' said Celestina. 'I remember mother told me that they don't +call them parlours in big houses. It's a drawing-room I mean; only the +dolls have their dinner in it, because I haven't got a dining-room. They +haven't any bedroom either; but I put them to bed in a very nice little +basket, with a handkerchief and cotton-wool. It's very comfortable.' + +'Yes?' said Bridget, greatly interested, 'and what more? Tell me, +please. It sounds so nice.' + +'Sometimes,' Celestina went on--'sometimes I take them to the +country--on the table, you know--and then I build them a house with +books. It does very well if it's only a visit to the country, but it +wouldn't do for a always house, 'cos it has to be cleared away for +dinner.' + +Biddy's mouth and eyes were wide open. + +'We have dinner in the dining-room with papa and mamma,' she said; 'so +we don't need to clear away off the schoolroom table except for tea. +That's in London. I don't know where we're to have tea here, when Miss +Millet comes back. Don't you have dinner with your papa and mamma--when +they have luncheon, you know?' + +In her turn Celestina stared. + +'I don't know how you mean. We all have dinner in the parlour,' she +said, 'like--like everybody. But this is our shop,' she added, stopping +and turning so as to face the others. 'If you please, miss,' she went on +to Rosalys, 'this is father's shop. If you'll come in, he'll be there.' + +Not a little surprised was Mr. Fairchild to see his daughter showing the +way in to the three children, whom he rightly and at once guessed to be +the new rector's family. Celestina looked quite composed; though so very +quiet and silent a child, she was neither shy nor awkward. She was too +little taken up with herself to have the foolish ideas which make so +many children bashful and unready: it never entered her head that other +people were either thinking of or looking at her. So she was free to +notice what she could do and when she was wanted, and her simple kindly +little heart was always pleased to render others a service, however +small. + +'Father,' she said in her soft voice; 'it is young Master Vane and the +young ladies with a letter for you.' + +Mr. Fairchild came forward, out from behind the counter. He made a +little bow to Rosalys, who was the foremost of the group, and a little +smile brightened his thin face as his eyes rested on hers. Every one was +attracted by Alie, and her voice was particularly gentle as she spoke to +Mr. Fairchild, for the first thought that darted through her mind was, +'How very ill he looks, poor man--much worse than papa.' + +'It is a letter for you, Mr. Fairchild,' she said. 'Mr. Redding asked my +brother to give it to you. It is from pa--from Mr. Vane.' + +'But I don't know if there is any answer,' said Rough. 'Redding didn't +say. Please see, will you?' + +Rosalys and Randolph and Jane in the doorway stood waiting while he +read. But Biddy's eyes were hard at work. She caught Celestina as she +was disappearing through an inner door. + +'Oh, please,' she said, 'don't go away. Won't you show me your dolls? +And oh, please, what _is_ that funny little window up there in the wall? +I would so like to look through it.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE WINDOW IN THE WALL + + 'Will you step into my parlour?' + _The Spider and the Fly._ + + +Celestina hesitated. She was anxious to be friendly to Bridget, and she +had a strong instinct of hospitality, but the little girl rather took +away her breath. Just at that moment, luckily, the door between the shop +and the parlour--a door in the corner behind the counter--opened, just a +little, enough to admit Mrs. Fairchild, who came in quietly. She had +heard voices in the shop, and thought she was probably needed there, +though at this time of the morning, especially when Celestina was out, +she had to be sometimes in the kitchen. + +'Celestina,' she exclaimed, surprised and not quite sure if she should +be pleased, 'what are you doing? You should have come in at once. I have +been expecting you.' + +Then her eyes fell on the three--or four--three and a half, one might +say, to be very correct--strangers in the shop, for Jane was still +wavering on the doorstep, one foot on the pavement outside and one +inside. + +'Won't you come in?' said Mrs. Fairchild to her civilly; 'it is a cold +morning--and then I could shut the door.' + +Jane moved inwards, though without speaking, and Rough darted forward +and shut the door carefully. + +'Thank you, sir,' said Mrs. Fairchild, with a little smile that lighted +up her whole face. She gave a half unconscious glance at her +delicate-looking husband, which explained her anxiety. Bridget drew near +her and looked up in her face. Somehow since Mrs. Fairchild had come in +every one seemed more friendly and at ease. + +'Are you Ce--Cel--the little-girl-in-the-bazaar's mamma?' asked Biddy. + +Mrs. Fairchild smiled again. + +'Yes,' she said, touching Celestina on the shoulder, 'I am _her_ mother. +Did you see her at the bazaar?' + +'She was buying chairs, and that made me buy one too,' replied Biddy +rather vaguely. + +'The young ladies met me after that in the street and asked me the way +here. I showed them. That was why I was in the shop,' explained +Celestina, on whose brow a little wrinkle of uneasiness had remained +till she could tell her mother the reason of her moment's lingering. + +'I see,' said Mrs. Fairchild, who would indeed have found it difficult +to believe that Celestina had been careless or disobedient; and at the +words Celestina's face recovered its usual quiet, thoughtful, but +peaceful expression. + +Bridget pressed up a little closer to Mrs. Fairchild. + +'You're not vexed with her then,' she said. 'She was quite good. +I thought at first you were going to be rather a cross mamma.' + +'_Bridget_,' said Rosalys, colouring, and in an awful tone. When Alie +said 'Bridget' like that it meant a great deal. + +'I didn't mean,' began Biddy as usual. + +Celestina's mother turned to Rosalys. + +'Please do not be vexed with her, miss,' she said, with again that +winning smile. And the smile that stole over Alie's face in response +made Mrs. Fairchild's gaze linger on the lovely child. 'No, my dear,' +she went on, speaking now to Biddy, 'it was quite right of Celestina to +show you the way; and I am glad you happened to meet her.' + +During this time, which was really only a minute or so, for it takes +much longer to relate a little scene of this kind than for it actually +to pass, Mr. Fairchild had been busy with the contents of the envelope +Randolph had given him. It contained, besides a note, a list of some +books which Mr. Vane wished to have sent as soon as possible. After +knitting his brows over this for some moments, the bookseller came +forward. + +'I find that Mr. Vane would like this order executed at once,' he said, +addressing Randolph. + +'I don't know, I'm sure,' said Rough; and indeed how was he to know, +seeing that the letter had only been given over to his charge by Mr. +Redding? + +Mr. Fairchild looked perplexed. + +'Oh,' he said, 'I thought that possibly you could have explained a +little more fully'--then he considered again. 'I think perhaps I could +send specimens of some of the hymn-books, and I can make out a list of +the prices, etc., so that Mr. Vane would have no trouble in selecting +what he requires. It will only take me a few minutes, and it would save +time if----' he hesitated. 'My errand-boy has gone some distance away +this morning.' + +'If you mean that it'll save trouble for me to carry the parcel, I don't +mind,' said Rough in his boyish way. + +Mr. Fairchild thanked him. + +'I will see to it at once,' he said, and turning to his desk he began +writing down the details of some books which he took down from the +shelves behind. + +The four children, Mrs. Fairchild, and Jane Dodson stood together in the +middle of the shop; it was quite small, and with these six people it +seemed crowded. There was only one chair, pushed up in a corner by the +counter. + +'It is draughty near the door, even when it is shut. Will you not come +farther in, Miss Vane? or,' with a little hesitation, 'would you step +into the parlour--there is a nice fire--and sit down for a few minutes?' +said Mrs. Fairchild to Rosalys. + +Rosalys began to thank her, but before she had time to do more than +begin Bridget interrupted. + +'Oh yes, Alie, please do,' she said eagerly. 'I do so want to see what a +parlour's like. But, please,' she went on to Mrs. Fairchild, 'would you +first tell me what that dear little peep-hole window up in the wall is +for? I would so like to look through it.' + +Alie's face grew red again; she really felt ashamed of Biddy. + +'And it's worse,' she said to herself, 'to be so forward to people who +are not quite the same as us, though I'm sure Mrs. Fairchild is as nice +as any lady.' + +And Mrs. Fairchild confirmed this feeling of Alie's by coming again to +the rescue. + +'Certainly, my dear,' she said, smiling. 'You shall look through the +window from the other side. There's pretty sure to be a chair in front +of it, if you are not tall enough. My little girl is very fond of +looking through that funny window.' + +She led the way through another door--a door facing the street +entrance--into a very small passage, whence a narrow staircase ran up to +the first floor. The children could scarcely see where they were, for +the passage was dark, till Mrs. Fairchild opened another door leading +into the parlour, and even then it was not very light, for the parlour +window, as I think I said before, looked on to a little yard, and there +were the walls of other houses round this yard. + +It was a very neat, but to the children's eyes a rather dreary-looking +little room. + +Biddy turned to Celestina. + +'I think I like droind-rooms better than parlours,' she said, returning +to their conversation in the street, 'except for the sweet little +window,' and in another instant she had mounted the chair and was +peering through. 'Oh, it _is_ nice,' she said. 'I can see Roughie'--for +Rough, had considered it more manly to stay in the shop--'and Mr.--your +papa, Celestina. It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show. I +wish we had one in our house. Alie, do look.' + +[Illustration: 'It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show.' +P. 89.] + +Rosalys came forward, not so eager to take advantage of Biddy's obliging +offer as to seize the chance of giving her a little private admonition. + +'Biddy,' she whispered, 'I'm ashamed of you. I never knew you so free +and rude before.' + +Bridget descended dolefully from the chair. + +'I'm very sorry,' she said; 'please, ma'am,' and she turned to Mrs. +Fairchild, 'I didn't mean to be free and rude.' + +The babyishness of her round fat face, and her brown eyes looking quite +ready to cry, touched Mrs. Fairchild, though it is fair to add that she +approved of Alie's checking the child. She would have been perfectly +shocked if Celestina even when younger than Biddy had behaved to +strangers as the little visitor was doing. Children were kept much more +in the background forty years ago than now. On the whole I don't know +that it was altogether a bad thing for them, though in some cases it was +carried too far, much farther than you, dear children of to-day, would +find at all pleasant, or than I should like to see. + +'No, my dear, I am sure you did not mean any harm,' said Mrs. Fairchild. +'We all have to learn, but it is very nice for you to have a kind elder +sister to direct you.' + +Biddy did not seem at that moment very keenly to appreciate this +privilege. + +'I'd rather have a littler sister,' she said; but as she caught sight of +Celestina's astonished face, 'I don't mean for Alie to be away--Alie's +very kind--but I'd like a littler one too. It's very dull playing alone. +And oh, please,' as the word 'playing' recalled the bazaar and their +purchases, 'mayn't I see her dolls' house?' and she pointed to +Celestina. + +Rosalys sighed. Bridget was incorrigible. + +'It isn't a house,' said Celestina, 'it's only a room. May I get it, +mother? I do so want to see if the new chairs will do,' she went on, for +the first time disengaging the toys from her handkerchief. 'The others +are so big that when the dolls sit on them their legs go all over the +top of the table instead of underneath.' + +'I know,' said Alie, 'that's how mine used to do when I was a little +girl and played with our doll-house. But mamma got some for me from +Germany all the proper size, on purpose. The doll-house was really very +pretty then.' + +Celestina looked up with eager eyes. + +'Oh, I would like to see it,' she said. 'It must be beautiful.' + +'No' said Rosalys, 'it isn't now. Some of the furniture's broken, and +nearly all the chair-seats need new covers. But it might be made very +nice with a little trouble, only you see Bridget has never cared to play +with it.' + +Biddy had drawn near and was standing listening. + +'I daresay I would care if I had anybody to play with me,' she said. +'You know you're too big, Alie. I wish Celestina could come and play +with me. Won't you let her, if mamma says she may?' she went on, turning +to Mrs. Fairchild. + +Celestina's eyes sparkled, but her mother looked rather grave. + +'My dear young lady,' she said to Biddy, 'you are rather too young to +plan things of that kind till you have talked about them to your mamma. +Besides Celestina almost never goes anywhere.' + +'I went to tea at Miss Bankes's once,' said Celestina. 'That's where I +used to go to school, but I didn't like it much--they played such noisy +games and they were all so smart. And once I went to Nelly Tasker's, and +that was nice, but they've left Seacove a long time ago.' + +Mrs. Fairchild looked at Celestina in some surprise. It was seldom the +little girl was so communicative, especially to strangers. But then, as +she said to her husband afterwards-- + +'Miss Vane is a very sweet girl, and the little one chatters as if she'd +known you for years. They certainly have a very friendly way with them: +I couldn't exactly wonder at Celestina.' + +'I'll ask mamma. You'll see if I don't,' said Biddy, nodding her head +with determination. 'And please, Celestina, do let me see your +doll-room, if that's what you call it?' + +'May I fetch it, mother?' asked the child. But at that moment Randolph +put his head in at the door. + +'We must be going,' he said. 'Come along, girls. I've got the parcel. +Thank you,' he added to Mrs. Fairchild, 'and good-morning.' + +Alie and Biddy turned to follow him. But first they shook hands with +Celestina and her mother. + +'I'm so sorry,' said Biddy, 'not to see the dolls' room. Wouldn't Rough +wait a minute, Alie?' + +'No,' the elder sister replied. 'We've been out a good while and there's +no reason for waiting now the parcel's ready.' + +'Well I'll come again. You'll let me, won't you?' said Bride, and not +content with shaking hands, she held up her round rosy mouth for a kiss. + +'Bless you, love,' kind Mrs. Fairchild could not resist saying, as she +stooped to her. + +'She is a very nice mamma, isn't she, Alie?' said Biddy with +satisfaction, when they found themselves out in the street again. + +'Yes,' said Rosalys. But she spoke rather absently. She was wondering +what made Bridget so nice sometimes, and sometimes so very tiresome and +heedless. + +'I wonder if it would have been better for her if she was more like that +little Celestina,' she thought. 'I'm sure they're very strict with her, +and yet I'm sure she's very fond of her mother and very obedient. But it +must be rather a dull life for a little girl, only she seems so womanly; +as if she really felt she was useful.' + +It was almost dinner-time--their dinner-time, that is to say--when the +children reached the Rectory, and there was something of a scramble to +get hands washed, hair smoothed, and thick boots changed so as to be in +time and not keep papa and mamma waiting. Randolph came into the +dining-room, carrying the parcel of books. + +'Papa,' he said, 'these are the books you told Redding to order for +you--at least there are some of them, and if they are right, or if +you'll mark down which of them are not right, Fairchild the bookseller +will order what you want at once.' + +'I'll look at them immediately after luncheon,' Mr. Vane replied. 'But +how did they come into your hands, my boy? Has Redding been here again?' + +'No,' Rough explained, 'we met him,' and then he went on to tell the +history of the morning. + +'And she 'avited us--the little-girl-in-the-bazaar's mother, I mean,' +Biddy hastened to add, 'to step into the parlour. I never saw a parlour +before; it's not as nice as a droind-room, except for the dear little +window up in the wall. Couldn't we have a little window like that in our +schoolroom, mamma? And I'm to go another day to see the room; it's not a +proper doll-house, she says; only a room, and I said I was sure I might +ask her to come here, but she said I must ask my mamma first. I thought +at first she was going to be rather a cross sort of a mamma, but I don't +think she is--do you, Alie?' + +Biddy ran off this long story so fast that Mrs. Vane could only stare at +her in amazement. + +'My dear Biddy!' she said at last. 'Alie, you were there? You don't mean +to say that you let Bride run into the toy-shop people's house and make +friends with their children, and--and----' Mrs. Vane stopped short, at a +loss for words. + +Mr. Vane looked up. + +'My dear child,' he said too, to Bridget, 'you must be careful. And +here--where everybody is sure to know who you are, and when you should +set a good example of nice manners--you must not behave in this wild +sort of way.' + +'I didn't mean,' began Biddy plaintively. + +But this time she was not chidden for her doleful tone--both Alie and +Rough came to the rescue. + +'Please, mamma, oh please, papa, you don't understand,' began Rosalys. + +'It wasn't the bazaar people at all,' said Rough, chiming in; 'it was +all right. Only, Biddy, you are really too stupid, the muddley way you +tell things----' + +'Yes,' agreed Alie, with natural vexation, 'you needn't make it seem as +if we had all gone out of our minds, really.' + +'I didn't mean,' started Biddy again, and still more lugubriously. + +'Stop, Bride,' said Mr. Vane authoritatively, laying down his knife and +fork as he spoke. 'Now, Rosalys, tell the whole story properly.' + +Alie did so, and as Randolph had already explained about meeting Mr. +Redding, it was not long before his father and mother understood the +real facts clearly. + +'We couldn't have refused to go into the parlour when Mrs. Fairchild +asked us like that--could we, mamma?' Rosalys wound up. + +'And she asked us to step in so nicely. And there were no chairs in the +shop, 'cept only one. And I did so want to see a parlour,' added Biddy, +reviving under Alie's support. + +'No, you did quite right,' said Mrs. Vane to the elder ones. 'But Biddy +must not begin making friends with every child she comes across and +inviting them to come here. You are not a baby now; you should have more +sense.' + +The tears collected in Bridget's eyes; they were very obedient to her +summons, it must be allowed. Rosalys felt sorry for her. + +'Mamma,' she said, 'of course Biddy shouldn't invite anybody without +your leave first, but still this little Celestina isn't _at all_ a +common child. She's so neat and quiet, and she speaks so nicely. And her +mother is _nearly_ as pretty as you, not quite of course.' + +'She's awfully jolly,' put in Rough. + +Mrs. Vane smiled. + +'What an uncommon name,' she said. '"Célestine," did you say? It is +French.' + +'No, mamma, not "Célestine,"' said Alie, '"Celestina." I suppose it's +the English of the other.' + +'I never heard it in English before,' said Mrs. Vane, 'though I once had +a dear old friend in France called "Célestine"--you remember Madame +d'Ermont, Bernard? I've not heard from her for ever so long.' + +'Celestina was going to tell us about her name, but something +interrupted her and then she forgot,' said Alie. 'Perhaps they've got +some French relations, mamma.' + +'It isn't likely,' her mother replied. 'But some day when I am in the +village, or town--should we call it "town," Bernard?' + +'It is a seaport, so it must be a town, I suppose,' said Mr. Vane. + +'I should like to see the little girl and her mother,' Mrs. Vane +continued. + +'And oh, mamma,' cried Biddy, jumping up and down in her chair as her +spirits rose again, 'when you do, _mayn't_ I go with you, and then +Celestina would show me her dolls' room?' + +'We shall see, my dear,' her mother replied. + +Biddy was not at all fond of the reply, 'We shall see.' 'It's only a +perlite way of saying "no,"' she once said, but she dared not tease her +mother any more. + +'Nobody cares about what I like,' she said to herself disconsolately. + +Perhaps she would not have thought so if she had heard what her mother +and Rosalys were talking about later that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +ON THE SEASHORE + + 'The sands of the sea stretch far and fine, + The rocks start out of them sharp and slim.' + _A Legend of the Sea._ + + +'Oh dear,' exclaimed Mrs. Vane one morning at breakfast two or three +days after the children's walk in to Seacove. Everybody looked up--the +two girls and Rough were at table with their father and mother. Mrs. +Vane had just opened and begun to read a letter. What could be the +matter? + +'It is from Miss Millet,' she said; 'her sister's children have got +scarlet fever, and she has got a bad sore throat herself from nursing +them. They had no idea what it was at first,' she went on reading from +the letter; 'but of course she cannot come back to us for ever so long +on account of the infection.' + +'Poor Miss Millet,' said Rosalys. + +'_I_ don't mind,' said Biddy; 'I like having holidays.' + +Alie, who was sitting next her, gave her a little touch. + +'Hush, Biddy,' she said, 'that's just one of the things you say that +sound _so_ unkind.' + +She spoke in a whisper, and fortunately for Bridget her father and +mother were too much taken up with the letter to notice what she had +said. + +'I didn't mean,' Biddy was beginning as usual, but Mrs. Vane was +speaking to Alie by this time, and no one listened to Biddy. + +'I must write to Miss Millet at once,' their mother said, 'though I +shall ask her not to write often till the infection is gone--she says +this letter is disinfected. And, Alie, you had better put in a little +word, and Biddy too, if she likes. It would be kind.' + +'Yes, mamma,' said Alie at once, but Bridget did not answer. + +It was not usual for Mrs. Vane to discuss plans and arrangements for the +children before them, but this morning her mind was so full of the +unexpected turn of affairs that she could not help talking about them. + +'It will be a question of several weeks--even months, I fear,' she said +to Mr. Vane; 'there are such a lot of those children, and Miss Millet +is sure to wish to nurse them all. We must think over what to do.' + +'Perhaps you and I can manage the girls between us,' said Mr. Vane. + +'Alie perhaps,' began Mrs. Vane doubtfully. + +'Yes,' said Bridget suddenly, to every one's astonishment, 'if it was +only Alie. But it would never do for me. I'd be too much for you and +papa, mamma.' + +She spoke quite gravely, but the others had hard work not to laugh. + +'How do you mean, Biddy?' asked her father. + +'I'm very tiresome to teach; often I'm very cross indeed,' replied the +child complacently. + +'But you _need_ not be; you can help being so if you try,' said Mr. +Vane. + +'Well, I don't like trying, I suppose it's that,' she answered. + +For the moment her father thought it wiser to say no more. + +Mr. Redding happened to call that morning, and at luncheon Mrs. Vane +told Alie and Bride that she was going to Seacove, and they might go +with her. + +Alie's eyes sparkled. + +'Are you going to----' she began, and her mother seemed to understand +her without any more words. + +'Yes,' she said, 'I have got all the measures.' + +'And oh, mamma,' asked Biddy, too full of her own ideas to notice +these mysterious sayings, '_will_ you go to Pier Street and let us +show you where Celestina lives. And if you _could_ think of something +you wanted to buy, just any little thing, a pencil or some envelopes +or anything--they've got _everything_--we might go into the shop, and +I _daresay_ if the nice mamma saw you, she'd ask you to step into the +parlour too.' + +'We shall see,' mamma replied. + +But 'We shall see' was this time accompanied by a little smile, which +made Bridget think that the 'We shall see' was perhaps a way of saying +'Yes.' + +Mamma had several messages to do at Seacove, and though Biddy was in a +great hurry to get to Pier Street, she was rather interested in the +other shops also. At the draper's, Mrs. Vane made some small purchases, +as to which Alie showed great concern. One was of pretty pink glazed +calico and of some other shiny stuff called 'chintz'--white, with tiny +lines of different colours; she also bought some red cotton velvet and +neat-looking white spotted muslin, and several yards of very narrow +lace of a very small and dainty pattern, and other things, all of which +interested Alie very much indeed, though after a while Biddy got tired +of looking on, and went and stood at the doorway of the shop. + +'I am sorry to give you the trouble of taking down so many things when +I only want such a short length of each,' said Mrs. Vane civilly to the +shopman--or shopwoman, I think it was. 'But the fact is I am buying all +these odds and ends for my little girl's'--and here she glanced round to +make sure that Bridget was out of hearing--'for my little girl's +doll-house, which needs doing up;' by which information Mrs. Cutter, the +draper's wife, was much edified, repeating it to her special cronies at +Seacove, together with her opinion that the new rector's wife was a most +pleasant-spoken lady. + +One or two other shops Mrs. Vane and Rosalys went into; a paper-hanger's +for one, or rather a painter's, where wall-papers were sold; and an +iron-monger's, where she bought two or three different kinds of small +nails, tin tacks, and neat little brass-headed nails. Bridget stayed at +the door of both these shops: she thought them not at all interesting, +and mamma and Alie did not press her to come in. The little girl was in +a great fidget to get to Pier Street, and stood murmuring to herself +that she didn't believe they'd _ever_ come; Alie might make mamma be +quick, she knew how she, Biddy, wanted to see Celestina and her dolls' +room. + +'But nobody cares about what _I_ want,' she added to herself, with the +discontented look on her face which so spoilt its round rosy +pleasantness. + +Just then out came Mrs. Vane and Alie. They both looked pleased and +bright, and this made Biddy still crosser. + +'Well, now,' said her mother consideringly, 'is that all, Alie? Yes--I +think it is. I must call at the grocer's on the way home, but I think we +pass that way. No--I don't remember anything else.' + +At this Bridget could no longer keep silent. + +'Oh, mamma,' she exclaimed, 'and you said you'd come to Celestina's +house. It's too bad.' + +Mrs. Vane looked at her in surprise. + +'I did not say so, Biddy; I said we should see. And we are going there +now. You have no reason to be so impatient and to look so cross,' and +she turned and walked on quickly. + +'Biddy,' said Alie, 'you're too bad really. You spoil everything.' + +Then she ran after her mother, and Bridget followed them at some little +distance. + +They went directly down the street which a little farther on ran into +Pier Street, Biddy feeling more and more ashamed of herself. How she +wished she had been less hasty, and not spoken so rudely and crossly to +her mother. It did seem true, as Alie said, that she spoilt everything. +But she did not appear as sorry as she felt; indeed, her face had a +rather sulky look when at last she came up to the others, who were +waiting for her at the door of the shop. + +'I am going in to see Mrs. Fairchild,' said her mother. 'I have +something to ask her. You may come in too, Biddy, and I will ask to see +the little girl too.' + +A naughty spirit came over Biddy, even though in her heart she was +sorry. + +'No,' she said. 'I don't want to see the little girl, and I don't want +to come in,' and her face grew still more sullen. + +'Very well,' said her mother, 'stay there then.' + +But as she entered the shop with Alie she whispered to her, 'I really +don't know what to do with Biddy. She has such a _very_ bad temper, +Alie. Just when I am doing everything I can for her too.' + +'Only she doesn't know about it, you see, mamma,' Alie replied. 'Still +she is very cross, I know.' + +Mrs. Fairchild was herself in the shop as well as her husband. As soon +as she caught sight of Rosalys she seemed to know who Mrs. Vane was, and +came forward with her gentle smile. + +'I hope you will excuse my troubling you, Mrs. Fairchild,' said the +rector's wife, 'but Mr. Redding, whom I saw this morning, thought you +would be the best person to apply to about a little difficulty I am in.' + +She half glanced round as if to see that no one was in the way, and with +quick understanding Celestina's mother turned towards the inner door. + +'Will you please step into the parlour a moment?' she said. 'We should +be less interrupted.' + +Bridget, standing by the half-open shop door, heard the words. She felt +almost inclined to run forward and beg leave to go in too. But she knew +she must first ask pardon of her mother for her naughtiness, and the +idea of doing so before Mrs. Fairchild was not pleasant. + +'If Celestina would come out herself I could ask her to ask mamma to +speak to me,' thought Bridget. But no Celestina appeared. + +'They will be so comfortable in that nice warm parlour,' thought Biddy; +'and I daresay Celestina will be showing Alie all her dolls and things,' +for she had not noticed that just as Mrs. Vane went into the parlour she +had said a word to Rosalys, who had stayed behind. + +So Biddy stood outside, very much put out indeed. The ten minutes during +which she had to wait seemed to her like an hour; and when Celestina's +mother came to the door to show her visitors out, it was not difficult +for her to see that the little girl was not in at all a happy frame of +mind. + +'Good-morning, Miss Bridget,' said Mrs. Fairchild. + +'Good-morning,' Biddy could not but reply. + +She did not even wonder how Mrs. Fairchild knew her name; she was so +taken up with her own thoughts. She would have been rather surprised had +she known that it was about her, poor little neglected, uncared for girl +as she chose to fancy herself, that the two mothers had been speaking +those long ten minutes in the parlour--'Mayn't I see Celestina at all?' +Biddy went on. 'I think Alie's very----' + +'Very what?' said her mother. 'Alie has been quietly waiting in the shop +for me as I told her.' + +Alie came forward as she spoke. + +'And Celestina is not in this morning,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'She had a +headache, so I have sent her out a walk.' + +Thus all Biddy's temper and jealousy had been thrown away. She felt +rather foolish as she followed her mother and Rosalys down the street. + +After stopping for a moment at the grocer's, Mrs. Vane turned to go home +by the Parade, the same way by which the children had come to Seacove +that Saturday. It was a fine bright afternoon, still early--a little +breeze blew in from the sea--the tide was far out. + +'Mayn't we go home by the shore, mamma?' Alie asked. 'It is nice firm +walking nearly all the way.' + +Mrs. Vane consented: they all turned down a sort of short cart-track, +leading through the stony shingle to the smooth sands beyond. The sun +was still some height above the horizon, but the cold frosty air gave it +already the red evening look. Glancing upwards at it Biddy remembered +the day she had watched it setting and the good resolutions she had then +made. She almost felt as if the sun was looking at her and reminding +her of them, and a feeling of shame, not proud but humble, crept over +her. She went close up to her mother and slipped her hand through her +arm. + +'Mamma,' she said very gently, 'I'm sorry for being so cross.' + +'I am glad to hear you say so, Bride,' said her mother. She spoke very +gravely, and at first Bridget felt a little disappointed. But after a +moment's--less than a moment's--hesitation, the fat little hand felt +itself clasped and pressed with a kindly affection that, truth to tell, +Biddy was scarcely accustomed to. For there is no denying that she was a +very trying and tiresome little girl. And Mrs. Vane was quick and +sensitive, and of late she had had much anxiety and strain, and she was +not of a nature to take things calmly. Rosalys was of a much more even +and cheery temperament: she 'took after' her father, as the country-people +say. It was not without putting some slight force on herself that Biddy's +mother pressed the little hand; and that she did so was in great part +owing to a sudden remembrance of some words which Mrs. Fairchild had said +during their few minutes' conversation, which, as I told you, had been +principally about Bridget. + +'Yes,' Celestina's mother had replied in answer to a remark of the +rector's wife, 'I can see that she must be a child who needs careful +management. Firmness of course--but also the greatest, the very greatest +gentleness, so as never to crush or repress any deeper feeling whenever +it comes.' + +And the words had stayed in Biddy's mother's mind. Ah, children, _how_ +much we may do for good, and, alas, for bad, by our simplest words +sometimes! + +So in spite of still feeling irritated and sore against cross-grained +Biddy, her mother crushed down her own vexation and met the child's +better mind more than half-way. + +A queer feeling came over the little girl; a sort of choke in her +throat, which she had never felt before. + +'If mamma was always like that _how_ good I would be,' thought Biddy, as +she walked on quietly, her hand still on her mother's arm. + +Suddenly she withdrew it with a little cry, and ran on a few steps. Some +way before them a small figure stood out dark against the sky, from time +to time stooping as if picking up something. Bridget had excellent eyes +when she chose to use them. + +'It's Celestina, mamma,' she exclaimed, running back to her mother and +Alie. 'Mayn't I go and speak to her? She's all alone. Come, +Smuttie--it'll be a nice run for you. I may, mayn't I, mamma?' + +'Very well,' said her mother, and almost before she said the words Biddy +was off. + +'She must be a nice little girl,' said Mrs. Vane; 'her mother seems such +a sweet woman. But, Alie, did you ever see anything like Bride's +changeableness?' and she gave a little sigh. + +'But, mamma dear, she did say she was sorry very nicely this time--very +_real_-ly,' said Rosalys. + +'Yes, darling,' her mother agreed. + +A minute or two brought them up to where the two children were standing +talking together, greatly to Bridget's satisfaction, though Celestina +looked very quiet and almost grave. + +'How do you do, my dear?' said Mrs. Vane, shaking hands with her. 'I +have just seen your mother; she said you were out a walk, but we did not +know we should find you on the shore. Is it not rather lonely for you +here by yourself?' + +'I was looking for shells, ma'am,' Celestina replied. 'There's very +pretty tiny ones just about here sometimes, though you have to look for +them a good deal; they're so buried in the sand.' + +'But she has found such beauties, and she takes them home for her dolls +to use for dishes, and some of them for ornaments,' said Biddy. 'Do show +mamma how _sweet_ they are, Celestina. And oh, mamma, mayn't I stay a +little with Celestina and look for them too?' + +Mrs. Vane hesitated. + +'I'm afraid not, Biddy,' she said. 'I must be going in--and Alie too. +She must write to grandmamma to-day.' + +'Oh, but mayn't _I_ stay?' asked Biddy entreatingly. 'It's quite safe +for me if it's safe for Celestina, and she says her mamma often lets her +come out on the shore alone.' + +Mrs. Vane looked round; the seashore was perfectly quiet except for one +or two old fishermen mending their nets at some distance. One could have +thought it miles away from the little port and the ships and the +sailors. Then, too, the Rectory was a very short distance off, and +indeed from its upper windows this sheltered stretch of sand could be +clearly seen. + +'Well, yes,' she said. 'You may stay for half an hour or so--not longer. +And indeed by then it will be quite time for you too to be going home, +will it not, my little girl?' she added to Celestina. + +'Yes, ma'am. I must be home by half-past four, and it takes twenty +minutes from here. I can go past the Rectory and see Miss----' she +hesitated over the name, 'Miss Biddy in at the gate, if you please,' +said Celestina, in her womanly little way. + +Mrs. Vane thanked her; then she and Rosalys walked on, and the two small +damsels were left alone. + +'Why must you be in by half-past four?' asked Biddy. + +'It's getting dark by then,' said Celestina. 'Besides there's things to +do. I get the tea ready very often. When mother's not very busy it waits +for her till she can leave the shop, but to-day I know she's busy, 'cos +father's got a great many letters to write. So I'll get the table all +ready.' + +Bridget gazed at her. + +'Do you like doing it?' she asked. 'You're such a little girl, you +see--not much bigger than me, and you play with dolls.' + +'I like to be useful to mother,' said Celestina simply. + +This was rather a new idea to Bridget, and she was sometimes very lazy +about thinking over new ideas. + +'Alie's useful to mamma, I suppose,' she said, 'but then she's the +eldest. And you're the only one--that's why, I daresay. Is it nice to be +the only one?' + +'Sometimes it's very alone,' said Celestina, 'some days when mother's +very busy and I scarcely see her, and I've nobody to show the dolls to.' + +'I know,' said Biddy. 'I'm rather alone too, for Alie's so big, you see. +Oh, Celestina, do look, isn't this a beauty? Look, it's all pinky +inside. Now I've got six and this beauty. I think that'll do for to-day. +I'm tired of looking.' + +'Sometimes I look for ever so long--a whole hour,' said Celestina, +rather taken aback by Biddy's fitfulness. 'But perhaps we'd better run +about a little to keep warm. It isn't like as if it was summer.' + +'I'm not cold and I don't like running,' said Biddy. 'Let's just walk, +Celestina, and you tell me things. Oh, look at the sun--he's getting +redder and redder--and look at the lighthouse, it's shining red too. Is +it a fire burning inside, do you think, Celestina?' + +'No, it's the sun's redness shining on the glass. The top room is all +windows--I've been there once,' she said. 'It's a good way to walk +though it looks so near, and there's some water too between. Father +took us once in a boat, mother and me, when the tide was in, and we +had dinner there; we took it with us, and there was a nice old man +father knew. And when the tide went out we came over a bit of water till +we got to the stones, in the boat, and then the boatman took it back, +and we walked home right along the stones--you see where I mean?' + +She pointed to the rocky ridge which I told you ran out from the shore +to the lighthouse. Bridget listened with the greatest interest. + +'How nice,' she said. 'Couldn't you have walked the whole way? I'm sure +there isn't any water between now--_I_ can't see it. It must have gone +away.' + +'Oh no, it hasn't,' said Celestina. 'It's always there: it couldn't go +away. You couldn't ever get to the lighthouse without a boat; once one +of the men had to come in a hurry, and father said he had to wade to +over his waist.' + +But Bridget was not convinced. She stood there gazing out seawards at +the lighthouse. + +'I would like to go there,' she said. 'Can't you see a long way from the +top room that's all windows, Celestina? I should think you could see to +the--what do they call that thing at the top of the world--the north +stick, is it?' + +[Illustration: 'I would like to go out there,' she said. P. 115.] + +Celestina was not very much given to laughing, but this was too funny. + +'The North Pole, you mean,' she said. 'Oh no, you couldn't see to +_there_, I'm quite sure. Besides, there isn't anything to see like +that--not a pole sticking up in the ground--it's just the name of a +place. Father's told me all about it. And so did the old man at the +lighthouse. Oh, I would like to go there--better than anywhere--just +think how strange it must be, all the snow and the ice mountains and +everything quite, _quite_ still!' + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A NICE PLAN + + 'Up where the world grows cold, + Under the sharp north star.' + _A North Pole Story._ + + +Biddy stared at Celestina. The little girl's face was quite flushed with +excitement. + +'Go on,' said Biddy. 'Tell me some more. I never heard about it.' + +'It's what they call the arctic regions,' said Celestina. 'The old +sailor at the lighthouse has been there. Once he was there in a ship +that got fastened into the ice, and they thought they'd never get out +again, and they'd scarcely nothing to eat. Oh, it was dreadful; but I +did so like to hear about it. And fancy, in the summer it never gets +night up there--the sun never goes away; and in the winter it never gets +day, the sun doesn't come up at all.' + +'How very funny!' said Biddy. 'What makes it like that? Is it the same +sun as ours?' + +'Oh yes, but I can't quite explain,' said Celestina, looking rather +puzzled. 'Father showed it me with the candle and a little round globe +we've got, but I'm afraid I couldn't tell you.' + +'Could the old man tell it?' asked Biddy. 'I would so like to go to see +him. Don't you think we might some day?' + +'Perhaps,' said Celestina. 'When the summer comes perhaps your papa +would take you in a boat. Lots of ladies go out to the lighthouse in the +summer. It's too cold in a boat in winter.' + +'But I don't mean in a boat,' said Bridget; 'I mean walking. I'm quite +_sure_ we could jump over the little bit of water if we gave a great big +jump. I once jumped over a whole brook at grandmamma's--I did really.' + +'It's much bigger than that--it is indeed. You don't understand,' said +Celestina. 'If you'd ask your papa he'd tell you, I daresay. But I think +we must be going home now. I'm sure it's time.' + +'I'm sure it isn't,' said Biddy crossly. 'We haven't talked about the +dolls at all yet, and I want you to tell me more about that funny place +where the snow is.' + +'I'll try to think of more to tell you if your mamma will let you go out +with me another time, and I'd like dearly to show you my dolls' room if +you could come to our house one day,' said Celestina. 'But we must go +home now, Miss Biddy.' + +Bridget flounced about, looking very much put out. + +'I'm not going yet. I don't want to go in,' she said. + +Celestina began to look troubled. Then her face cleared. + +'_I_ must go home,' she said, 'whether you do or not. I wouldn't for +anything have mother worrying about me. You wouldn't like your mamma to +be worrying about you, would you, Miss Biddy?' + +'I daresay she wouldn't care; I'd only get a scolding, and I don't mind +much,' said Biddy, who had got on to a very high horse by this time. + +Celestina stopped short and looked at her. She could not understand +Biddy at all. + +'Mother never scolds me, but I'm very unhappy when she's not pleased +with me,' she said gently; 'and I'm sure your mamma's very kind and +good. I'm sure she does care about you a great deal.' + +Her words reminded Bridget of what had happened that very afternoon. +Perhaps what Celestina said was true: mamma had pressed her hand when +she said she was sorry. With one of the quick changes of mood which +seemed so strange to Celestina she turned suddenly. + +'I'll go home,' she said. 'Come on, Celestina, before I get naughty +again. But it isn't all for being good. It's a great deal that I want to +come out with you again, and perhaps I mightn't if I was late to-day.' + +'No. Very likely your mamma would think I made you disobedient,' +Celestina replied; 'and I shouldn't like her to think so.' + +'If I might go into the kitchen and get the tea ready for papa and mamma +like you do, I'd never want to stay out late,' said Bridget +thoughtfully. + +Celestina considered. + +'You don't need to do that,' she said. 'It wouldn't be any good to your +mamma, for she's got servants to do it. But there must be other things +you could do if you want to help her.' + +'No,' said Biddy, shaking her head, 'there's nothing. And I don't think +I want very much; it's just sometimes. Alie helps mamma because she's +the eldest.' + +Celestina scarcely knew how to answer this, though she felt there was +something wrong about her little companion's way of looking at things. +But Celestina had not much power of putting her thoughts and feelings +into words. Her solitary life had made her a very silent child, not +intentionally, but by habit. She found it difficult to express her +meaning even to herself. Just now she gazed at Biddy without speaking, +so that Biddy began to laugh. + +'What are you looking at me so for?' asked the younger child. + +'I don't know,' said Celestina. 'I was only thinking.' + +'What?' asked Biddy again. + +'You should help too, even though you're the youngest,' said Celestina +bluntly. + +'Oh, bother,' was all Biddy's reply. + +They were at the Rectory gate by this time. + +'Good-bye, Miss Biddy,' said Celestina. 'I must run home fast. But +I don't think it's late.' + +'Good-bye,' said Biddy. 'I've got my shells; have you got yours? Oh +yes,' as Celestina held up a tiny little basket she was carrying. 'How +dreadfully careful you are! Good-night. I'll ask mamma to let me come +and see you very soon.' + +On her way up the short drive to the house Bridget came face to face +with Randolph. + +'Oh, you're there, are you?' he said. 'Mamma was just asking if you'd +come in, so I came to look out for you.' + +Biddy was silent. This did not seem very like mamma's 'not caring,' as +she had been saying to Celestina. + +'It isn't late,' she remarked at last. 'Mamma said I might stay half an +hour.' + +'She was beginning to worry about you a little, all the same,' said +Rough. 'Were you with the little Fairchild girl?' + +'Yes,' said Biddy. + +'Is she a nice little girl?' asked Rough. + +'Yes,' said Biddy again. + +'Then why don't you like her? Why are you so cross?' asked her brother. + +'I'm not cross, and I never said I didn't like her,' replied Bridget +impatiently. + +Rough began to whistle. + +'I can't say I agree with you,' he said. 'Well, I'll run on and tell +mamma you're all right;' and off he set. + +Biddy followed him slowly, feeling rather depressed. + +'I didn't mean to be cross,' she said to herself in her usual way, +though she really did feel what she said this time. 'It was kind of +Roughie to come to meet me. They're all good 'acept me. Celestina's good +too. I'm made all the wrong way,' and she sighed deeply. + +She brightened up again, however, when she met her mother at the door. + +'That's right, Biddy dear,' said Mrs. Vane. 'You've not stayed too +late.' + +Rough was there too; he had not told about her being cross evidently, +and Biddy felt grateful to him. It was very nice when mamma spoke like +that; it reminded her of the way her hand had been pressed that +afternoon. But a sudden thought rather chilled her satisfaction. Biddy +was beginning to be troubled with thoughts, and thoughts too that would +not be driven away and forgotten, as she had been accustomed to drive +away and forget anything that made her feel at all uncomfortable. This +thought teased and pricked her for a few seconds, and though she +wriggled herself about and stamped her feet down with hard thumps on the +gravel, it would not go. + +'Biddy,' it said, 'Biddy, you know what you should do.' + +So that at last, in sheer impatience of its teasing, she gave her +mother's sleeve a little tug. + +'Mamma,' she said, 'it was _her_ that made me not stay longer than you'd +said. I wanted to. I wasn't very good, but she's good.' + +Mrs. Vane turned with real pleasure in her face. + +'I'm very glad you've told me, Biddy,' she said. 'Yes, it was nice and +good of Celestina to remind you. I think she must really be a very +conscientious child.' + +'I don't know what that is,' said Bridget. 'At least, p'raps I do know, +but it's such a trouble to think. But Celestina _is_ good. I almost +think she's a little too good.' + +Her tone was very melancholy. Rough burst out laughing, but Mrs. Vane +looked rather disappointed. + +'It will be so vexing if Biddy takes a dislike to her just when I was +hoping it would be a good thing,' she thought to herself. + +Still, the remembrance of the little talk with Mrs. Fairchild was in her +mind. She took no notice of Biddy's remark, only telling her cheerfully +to run in quickly and get ready for tea, as it was almost ready. + +The children's mother went to Seacove again the next day, but this time +she did not take either of them with her. She went straight to Pier +Street, and as soon as Mrs. Fairchild saw her coming into the shop she +came forward with a smile and showed her into the parlour. There +Celestina was sitting quietly working at some new clothes for her little +dolls: she wanted them to be very smart indeed, in case the Rectory +young ladies came to see them. She rose from her seat at once when Mrs. +Vane came in, but a shadow of disappointment crossed her face when she +saw that the lady was alone. + +'I have not brought Biddy this time,' said Mrs. Vane kindly. 'I have +come to see Mrs. Fairchild myself. But Biddy shall come some day soon. +I want you to show her your doll-house, for I should be glad for her to +get into the way of playing with one. She has always been a difficult +child to amuse,' she went on; 'she is so restless, and never seems to +get interested in her toys or games.' + +Celestina opened her lips as if she were going to speak, but said +nothing. + +'What is it, my dear?' said Mrs. Vane, seeing the look in the little +girl's eyes. Celestina grew pink. + +'It was only,' she began. 'It's not so nice to play alone.' + +'No, that is true,' said Biddy's mother, 'and true of other things as +well as play.' Then she turned to Mrs. Fairchild: 'Have you been able +to----' she was beginning, but with a little gesture of apology Mrs. +Fairchild glanced at her daughter. + +'Go upstairs, Celestina, for a few minutes,' and in a moment Celestina +gathered together her small concerns and noiselessly left the room. + +'How obedient she is,' said Mrs. Vane with a little sigh. 'I should have +had quite an argument with Biddy, or at least cross looks.' + +'Children are very different,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'Still there is not +much you can do with them without obedience. And if they get the habit +of it quite young, it costs them so much less; they obey almost without +thinking about it.' + +'And have you seen Miss Neale?' asked Mrs. Vane after a little pause. + +'She came to see me yesterday, and I think it can be nicely arranged. +She is a very good girl: I feel sure you will be pleased with her. The +only difficulty would have been her promise about Celestina, which she +would not have liked to give up; but what you have so kindly proposed +puts this all right of course. It will be a great pleasure and interest +to Celestina to learn with a companion. I feel that I cannot thank you +enough.' + +'On the contrary,' said Mrs. Vane, 'I have to thank you. I am in hopes +that your little daughter's companionship will be of great good to +Bridget.' + +Mrs. Fairchild's gentle face grew a little red. + +'I think I may at least assure you of this,' she said, 'little Miss +Bridget will learn no harm from Celestina.' + +'I am sure of it,' said Mrs. Vane warmly. 'By the bye,' she added, +'Celestina is a very uncommon name. I have never heard it except in its +French form of "Célestine."' + +'Celestina was named after a French lady,' said Mrs. Fairchild--'a lady +who was very kind to my sisters and me when we were young. She happened +to be living near the town where our home was for some years. Her +husband had an appointment there. They had only one child, a daughter +named Célestine like her mother, who died, and my mother helped to nurse +her in her last illness, which made Madame d'Ermont very fond of her. +Indeed, I think she was very fond of us all,' she added with a little +smile, 'and I think I was a special pet of hers. Through her kindness +I had many advantages in my education. But when she and Monsieur, as we +always called him, went back to France troublous times came on. We lost +sight of them altogether. Still, I have never forgotten the dear lady, +and I determined to give my little girl her name.' + +Mrs. Vane listened with the greatest interest. + +'"Madame d'Ermont," did you say?' she asked eagerly, and on Mrs. +Fairchild's answering 'Yes'--'It must be the same,' she went on; 'our +Madame d'Ermont's name was Célestine too. She was, or is, for I hope she +is still living, a great friend of ours too, Mrs. Fairchild. We spent +two winters in the south of France near her home, and we saw a great +deal of her. It is a pity for you not to have kept up writing to her; +she is very kind and very rich and childless--she might be a good friend +to her little name-daughter.' + +Mrs. Fairchild's face flushed again: I rather think Biddy had inherited +something of her habit of hasty speech from her mother, kind-hearted and +good as Mrs. Vane was. + +'It would not be from any motive of _that_ kind I should like to hear +from Madame d'Ermont again,' said Celestina's mother. 'It is true our +child has no one to look to but ourselves, and neither her father nor +I can boast of very strong health--but still----' + +'Oh, I _beg_ your pardon,' interrupted Mrs. Vane impulsively; 'I quite +understand your feeling, and I did not mean to say anything you could +dislike. But still I will look out Madame d'Ermont's address, or get it +from my mother, and when I write to her I may tell her of you, may I +not?' + +'I should be very grateful if you would do so,' Mrs. Fairchild replied. + +Then they went on to speak of the details of the arrangement they had +been making, and soon after Mrs. Vane left. + +That afternoon she called Bridget to her. + +'Bride,' she said, 'I have something to say to you.' + +'Yes, mamma,' Biddy replied, but without giving much attention. It was +probably, she thought, only to reprove her for her way of sitting at +table, or for having been cross to Jane, or for one of the hundred and +one little misdemeanours she was always being guilty of. And Biddy was +in a queerish mood just now: there was a good deal of battling and +pulling two ways going on in her baby heart. Was the lazy little _soul_ +beginning to grow, I wonder? + +'Yes, mamma,' she said indifferently, with her peevish 'I didn't mean,' +quite ready to trot out on the smallest provocation. + +'You must give your attention, my dear,' said Mrs. Vane; 'it is +something rather particular I want to tell you about.' + +'I _am_ giving my attention,' said Biddy, though it did not look very +like it. + +'Well, then,' her mother went on, determined not to notice Bride's +evident wish to pick a quarrel, 'listen. You know that Miss Millet +cannot come back to us for a good long while. Alie's lessons do not +matter so much as yours, for she is very well on for her age and a +little rest will do her no harm; besides, she will have some lessons +with papa and some with me. But we have not time for you too.' + +'And you couldn't manage me if you had,' said Biddy gloomily. + +Mrs. Vane took no notice--'And besides, at your age it is most important +to be very regular. So I have engaged a daily governess for you, my dear +Biddy--that means a governess who will come every morning for three +hours, just to teach you. But she won't live in the house with us as +Miss Millet does.' + +'Won't she take us walks?' demanded Biddy. + +'Not every day, for some days she is engaged in the afternoons. But +twice a week she will come back in the afternoons and take you a walk +and stay to have tea with you. Her name is Miss Neale; she is very +nice, though she is younger and--less experienced than Miss Millet. +I hope you will be very good with her, Bride.' + +Bride gave herself a little shake. + +'No, mamma,' she said. 'I don't want to be naughty, but I can't help it. +I'm sure I shall be very naughty with her.' + +Mrs. Vane kept her patience. She looked at Biddy quietly. + +'Why, Biddy?' she asked. 'You are old enough to understand that I have +taken a good deal of trouble about this for you.' + +'I needn't have lessons till Miss Millet comes back; I'd be quite good +without. I don't like having lessons quite alone without Alie or +nobody,' said Biddy. + +'Would you like it better if you had some one to learn with you--some +one nearer your age than Alie, who would do the very same lessons?' +asked her mother. + +Biddy's eyes sparkled. + +'I should think I would,' she said, 'but there isn't nobody'--then she +gave a sort of gasp. 'Oh, if only--if Celestina could do lessons with +me,' she exclaimed. 'She knows lots, mamma, all about up at the top of +the world, where there isn't _really_ that stick I thought there was, +but lots of snow and always light--no, always dark, I forget which. I'll +ask her--the old lighthouse man told her. I'm sure she'd help me with my +jography, mamma, and she'd teach me to dress dolls and----' Biddy +stopped, quite out of breath. + +Mrs. Vane smiled; she looked very pleased. + +'I am very glad you have thought of it yourself, Biddy,' she said, 'for +it is the very thing I have planned. Celestina _is_ going to have +lessons with you. Her mother had already settled for Miss Neale to give +her lessons, as they don't care about Celestina going to school, so it +would not have been fair for Miss Neale to give her up to come to us. +And besides, both papa and I thought it would make our little girl +happier to have a companion--eh, Biddy?' + +Mrs. Vane had hardly time to finish her sentence before she felt her +breath nearly taken away by a pair of fat little arms hugging her so +tightly that she could scarcely free her head. + +'Mamma, mamma,' cried Biddy, 'I love you, I do really love you now. I +never thought I did so much. Oh, I am so glad. Thank you, dear mamma.' + +Never in her life had Biddy been so affectionate; never, at least, had +she shown her affection so much. Mrs. Vane kissed her warmly. + +'I am very pleased too, dear,' she said. 'I do think you will be a good +and happy little girl now.' + +'I'll try to be good, mamma, I will really. But it would take me a +dreadfully long time to be as good as Celestina, I'm afraid.' + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A SECRET + + 'If the sun could tell us half + That he hears and sees, + Sometimes he would make us laugh, + Sometimes make us cry.' + CHRISTINA ROSSETTI. + + +'You must eat your breakfast properly, Celestina, my dear,' said Mrs. +Fairchild to her little daughter one morning in the following week. 'You +will be quite faint and tired before dinner-time if you don't, and that +would be a bad beginning.' + +Celestina on this set to work once more on her bread and milk. She was +too excited to feel hungry; her pale cheeks had each a bright spot of +colour and her eyes were shining. It was the day on which she was to +begin her lessons at the Rectory. Miss Neale was to call for her on her +way there, and though she had three-quarters of an hour to wait till +Miss Neale came, the little girl was sure she would not be ready in +time. + +'I never saw her so taken up with anything before,' said her mother; and +Mr. Fairchild, who was sometimes disposed to take rather a gloomy view +of things, said he hoped they should not regret having agreed to the +arrangement, and that it would not lead to disappointment, on which Mrs. +Fairchild set to work, as she always did, to cheer him up. + +'It will give Celestina a little experience,' she said; 'and even if +there should be a little disappointment mixed up with it in any way, it +will do her no harm, and Celestina is a reasonable child.' + +She was very quiet but very happy as she set off with Miss Neale. It was +a bright pleasant morning, 'quite spring-like,' said the young +governess, and a walk at that early hour was of itself a pleasure to +Celestina. She had not been inside the Rectory since the Vane family had +replaced old Dr. Bunton and his wife, and scarcely was the door open +when the little girl noticed a difference. The old, heavy, stuffy +furniture was gone, and though it was still plain, the house looked +lighter and brighter. The schoolroom was a nice little room looking +towards the sea; there was a good strong table with a black oil-cloth +cover and four hair-seated chairs, such as were much used at that time. +But there were two or three pretty pictures on the walls, and a cottage +piano, and in the bookcase were a few bright-coloured tempting volumes +as well as the graver-looking school-books. Everything was very neat, +and there was a bright fire burning, and in a pot on the window-sill a +geranium was growing and evidently flourishing. To Celestina it was a +perfect picture of a schoolroom, and she looked round with the greatest +interest as she took off her hat and jacket, according to Miss Neale's +directions, and hung them on a peg on the door. + +'You must be very neat here, you know, my dear,' she said; to which +Celestina meekly replied, 'Oh yes,' quite agreeing with Miss Neale. + +In a moment or two the door burst open and in came Biddy. A very +pleasant-looking Biddy, with a spotlessly clean apron, tidy hair, and +smiling face, and just behind her appeared her mother. + +'Good-morning, Miss Neale,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Here is Bridget, whom, you +have not seen before. Good-morning, Celestina. I hope you will be two +very happy and good little girls, and that Miss Neale will have no +trouble with you.' + +Then she went on to explain a little about the books Biddy used, saying +that Rosalys would look out any that might possibly be missing, and +after telling Miss Neale to keep up a good fire and one or two other +small directions of the kind, she left the schoolroom. + +Everything went on most smoothly. Miss Neale could hardly believe that +Bridget was the child she had been warned that she would find 'tiresome +and trying and requiring great patience.' For, for once Biddy really did +her best. She was interested in finding out how much Celestina knew +'compared with me,' and anxious that neither her little friend nor her +new teacher should think her stupid or backward. And though Celestina's +habits of steady attention had made her memory better and her knowledge +more thorough than Biddy's, still Miss Neale could hardly feel that +either of her pupils was more satisfactory than the other; both were so +obedient and attentive and intelligent. + +So the morning passed delightfully. + +'And won't it be nice?' said Biddy, as she stood at the gate, whither +she had accompanied Miss Neale and Celestina on their way home; 'the day +after to-morrow Miss Neale will come back to take us a walk in the +afternoon, and you may come too, mamma says, and stay to tea if your +mamma will let you.' + +How Celestina's eyes sparkled! To be invited to tea at the Rectory +seemed to her far more enchanting than if she had received an invitation +from the Queen of the Fairies to be present at one of her grandest +festivals. She was _so_ delighted that she forgot to speak, and Miss +Neale had to answer for her, and say that she would not forget to ask +Mrs. Fairchild's consent. + +'And some day, Celestina,' Biddy went on, 'I want you to ask your mamma +to ask _me_ to tea, for I want to see your dolls.' + +Celestina looked rather grave. + +'I'll ask mother,' she said, but there was a little hesitation in her +manner. This did not come from any false shame--Celestina did not know +what false shame was--but from very serious doubts as to what her father +and mother would think of it. She had never had any friend to tea in her +life; father was always tired in the evening, and she was far from sure +that a chattering child like Biddy would not annoy him and make his head +ache. So poor Celestina was rather silent and grave on the way home; +Biddy's thoughtless proposal had taken the edge off her happiness. + +On her way back to the house Bridget met Rosalys. + +'Well,' said Alie, 'and how did you get on, Biddy? How do you like your +new governess?' + +'_Ever_ so much better than Miss Millet,' Biddy replied. Her superhuman +exertions had somewhat tired her; she felt rather cross now, and half +inclined to quarrel. She knew that Alie was particularly fond of Miss +Millet, and she glanced at her curiously as she made her speech. But +Alie was a wise little woman. + +'I'm so glad,' she said. 'So glad you like Miss Neale, I mean. Of course +I knew you'd like Celestina.' + +'I don't like her so very much as all that,' said Biddy contradictorily. +'I like her well enough to do lessons with, but she's not very nice +about my going there to tea.' + +'Going there to tea,' Alie repeated. 'What do you mean, Biddy?' + +'Mean what I say. She's coming here to tea two times every week if it's +fine, so I think they might 'avite me sometimes, and when I said to her +just now I'd like to come, she looked quite funny and only said she'd +ask her mother. Not a bit as if she'd like it.' + +Rosalys felt very vexed. + +'Really, Biddy, you might know how to behave,' she said. 'People don't +offer themselves to other people like that.' + +'They do,' Bride retorted. 'I've heard papa say he was going to "offer +himself to luncheon" to Aunt Mary's, and----' + +'She's a relation,' Alie interrupted. + +'Well, and once mamma offered herself to tea to old Lady Butler--I know +she did--just before we went away at Christmas.' + +'That's quite different; she knows old Lady Butler so +well--and--and--mamma's grown up and knows what's right, and you're a +little girl, and you shouldn't do things like that without asking +leave,' said Rosalys decidedly. + +'You're a cross unkind thing,' said Biddy; 'and if you speak like that +I'll not go on being good any more.' + +Then she turned away from her sister and ran down a side-path of the +garden, leaving Rosalys looking after her in distress, and half inclined +to blame herself for having spoken sharply to Biddy. 'It will vex mamma +so if this new plan doesn't do,' she thought regretfully. 'But perhaps +Biddy will be good again when she comes in.' + +The path down which the little girl had run led to a low wall from which +you overlooked the sea. The tide was in, and though at some little +distance from the Rectory, Biddy could clearly see the water shining in +the morning sunshine, which was yellower and richer in colour now, for +the season was getting on; the cold thin wintry look was giving place in +this sheltered spot to the warmer feeling of spring. The little waves +came lapping in softly; by listening intently and fancying a little, +Biddy could almost hear the delicate sound they made as they kissed the +shore. + +'I wish it was warm enough to bathe,' thought Biddy. 'But if it was +_they'd_ be sure to say I mustn't, or that I was naughty or something,' +and in her anger at the imaginary cruelty of 'they,' she kicked the +little stones of the gravel at her feet as if it was their fault! But +the little stones were too meek to complain, and Biddy got tired of +kicking them, and seating herself astride on the wall, sat staring out +at the sea. Somehow it reminded her of her good resolutions, though it +was a quite different-looking sea from the evening tide, with the red +sun sinking below the horizon, like that first time on the shore. + +What a pity it was that she had spoilt the fresh beginning of being so +nice and good at her new lessons by being cross to Alie! And in her +heart Biddy knew that her sister had not blamed her without reason--it +was her old fault of heedlessness; she _was_ quite old enough to +understand that she should not have asked Celestina to invite her, and +she knew too that Celestina had been right in answering as she did. But +all these 'knowings in her heart' did not make Biddy feel more amiable. + +'It's no good trying,' she said to herself as she got slowly down off +the wall--Bridget was always deliberate in her movements--'I'll just not +bother. I'll do my lessons, 'cos I don't want them to say I'm stupid, +but I'm not going to try not to be cross and all that. I'm tired of +trying.' + +Mrs. Vane noticed at luncheon that Biddy was quiet and silent and not +particularly amiable looking, but Alie whispered that it had nothing to +do with lessons, which had gone off well. + +'Don't notice her, mamma; it was only that she was vexed with me for +something,' Alie added; so nothing was said to Biddy, and she was +allowed to nurse her grievances in silence. + +She cheered up a little by tea-time, and told Randolph triumphantly that +she had done all her lessons for Miss Neale 'by myself, without asking +that nasty cross Alie or nobody to help me.' But she remained very surly +to her sister, though Alie tried to prevent her father and mother +noticing it. + +Next day was rainy and blowy. Miss Neale and Celestina arrived smothered +up in waterproofs and goloshes, and there was quite a bustle to get them +unpacked from their wrappings and warmed at the schoolroom fire. Biddy +made herself very important, and forgot for the time about being vexed +with Rosalys. + +Lessons went off well, thanks to Bridget's putting a good deal of +control on herself, though there _were_ moments that morning which made +the young governess say to herself that she could understand its being +_sometimes_ true that Biddy was tiresome and trying. When Celestina was +putting on her hat and jacket to go she gave Biddy a little touch on the +arm. + +'I asked mother,' she whispered, 'about what you said, and mother says +perhaps some day you would come early in the afternoon, and we could +play with the dolls and have tea for ourselves out of mother's toy cups +that she had when she was a little girl. They are so pretty. It wouldn't +be quite a real tea, for we don't have real tea till past five, but I'm +sure mother would get us some little cakes, and we might make it a sort +of a feast.' + +Biddy's eyes sparkled. + +'Oh, that would be nice,' she exclaimed. 'Yes, please, tell your mother +I'd like to come very much. And just fancy, Celestina, that horrid Alie +said it was very rude of me to have asked you to ask me. I'm sure it +wasn't, now, was it?' + +Celestina grew red and hesitated. + +'I'm sure you didn't mean to be rude, Miss Biddy,' she said. 'Mother +said----' but here she stopped. + +'What did she say?' demanded Biddy. + +'I didn't mean to say that she said anything,' poor Celestina answered, +'only when you asked me----' + +'_What_ did she say?' Biddy repeated, stamping her foot. + +'She didn't say you were rude; she said you were only a child,' +Celestina answered quietly. Biddy's temper somehow calmed her. 'And +I think so too,' she added. + +'Then, _I_ think you're very, very unkind, and I'll never come to your +house at all,' said Biddy. + +And thus ended the second morning. + +Bridget was a queer child. By the next day she seemed to have forgotten +all about it. She was just as usual with Rosalys, and met Celestina +quite graciously. But it was not that she was ashamed of her temper or +anxious to make amends for it. It was there still quite ready to break +out again. But she was lazy, and very often she seemed to give in when +it was really that keeping up any quarrel was too much trouble to her. +I think, however, that Celestina's perfect gentleness did make her a +little ashamed. + +Lessons were on the whole satisfactory. Celestina worked so steadily +that she would soon have left Biddy behind had Biddy been as idle as had +often been the case under Miss Millet. And Mrs. Vane was pleased to +think that the plan had turned out so well. + +One day, about a week after Miss Neale had begun to teach the children, +just as they were finishing lessons, Rosalys made her appearance in the +schoolroom. It was one of the days on which Miss Neale and Celestina +came back in the afternoon to take the girls a walk and to stay to tea +afterwards. Rosalys looked pleased and eager. + +'Celestina,' she said, 'mamma has a little message for you. Please come +into the drawing-room before you go home this morning.' + +Up started Biddy. + +'What is it, Alie? Do tell me. Mayn't I come into the drawing-room with +Celestina?' + +Alie shook her head, though smilingly. + +'No,' she said; 'it's something quite private for Celestina.' + +'I'll come,' said the little girl, but Bridget's face darkened. + +'It's not fair,' she muttered, as Celestina, after carefully putting her +books away, left the room. + +'Come now, my dear,' said Miss Neale, not very wisely, perhaps--she +scarcely knew Biddy as yet--'you shouldn't be jealous. It's a very +little thing for Celestina to have a message to do for your mamma. Some +other time there will be one for you to do, I have no doubt.' + +Biddy wriggled impatiently. + +'They've no business not to tell me,' she said, taking not the least +notice of Miss Neale's words. Then she banged down her books and ran out +of the room without saying good-morning to her governess. + +Miss Neale did not see anything more of her till she and Celestina +returned that afternoon. It was a lovely day, and so as not to lose any +of the pleasant brightness of the afternoon, Mrs. Vane had made the +girls get ready early and go a little way down the sandy lane to meet +the two coming from Seacove. Bridget was gloomy, but Alie was +particularly cheerful, and after a while the younger sister's gloom gave +way before the sunshine and the fresh air and Alie's sweetness. + +'There they are,' she exclaimed, as two figures came in sight; 'shall we +run, Biddy?' and almost without waiting for a reply off she set, Bridget +following more slowly. + +When she got up to them Celestina and Alie were talking together +eagerly. They stopped short as Biddy ran up, but she heard Celestina's +last words, 'Mother says she'll be sure to get it by to-morrow or the +day after.' + +'What are you talking about?' asked Bridget. + +Celestina grew red but did not speak. Rosalys turned frankly to her +sister-- + +'It's a message of mamma's we can't tell you about,' she said, 'but +you'll know some time.' + +Alas, the brightness of the afternoon was over, as far as Biddy was +concerned. She turned away scowling. + +'Why should you know if I don't?' she said; 'and what business has +Celestina to know--she's as little as me nearly?' + +[Illustration: A SECRET. P. 148.] + +'Oh, Biddy,' said Alie reproachfully. + +But that was all. She knew that argument or persuasion was lost on her +sister once she was started on her hobby-horse, ill-temper. She could +only hope that she would forget about it by degrees. And after a while +it almost seemed so. They went down to the shore, where it was so bright +and pleasant that it did not seem possible for the crossest person in +the world to resist the soft yet fresh breeze, the sunshine glancing on +the sands, the sparkling water in the distance. And Miss Neale was full +of such good ideas. She taught them a new play of trying to walk +blindfold, or at least with their eyes shut, in a straight line, which +_sounds_ very easy, does it not? but is, I assure you, very difficult; +then they had a capital game of puss-in-the-corner, though the corners +of course were only marks in the sand; and with all this it was time +to go home to tea almost before they knew where they were. + +'How pretty it must be up in the lighthouse to-day,' said Celestina as +they were turning away. + +This was the signal for Bridget's quarrelsomeness again. + +'Miss Neale,' she said, shading her eyes from the sun, as she gazed out +towards the sea, 'Celestina does talk such nonsense. She says you can't +walk over the sands to the lighthouse. Now _can't_ you? I can _see_ sand +all the way.' + +Miss Neale was anxious not to contradict Biddy just as she seemed to be +coming round again, and she was really not quite sure on the point. + +'I can't say, my dear,' she replied. 'It does look as if you could--but +still----' + +'There now,' said Biddy to Celestina contemptuously, 'Miss Neale's +bigger than you, and she thinks you _can_; don't you, Miss Neale?' + +'Yes, yes, my dear,' Miss Neale, who was on some little way in front +with Alie, replied hastily; 'but come on--what does it matter?' + +But Biddy's tone had roused Celestina, gentle as she was. + +'I know you _can't_,' she said, 'and whether a big or a little person +says you can, I just _know_ you can't,' and she turned from Biddy and +walked on fast to join the others. Seeing her coming, Rosalys called to +her. + +'Celestina, I want to ask you something,' and in a moment the two were +talking together busily. + +'It's only the secret, Biddy,' said Alie laughingly; she did not know of +Biddy's new ill-humour. 'You mustn't mind.' + +Down came the black curtain thicker and thicker over Bridget's rosy +face; firmly she settled herself on her unmanageable steed. + +'I don't care,' she said to herself as she trudged along in silence +beside Miss Neale; 'they're horrid to me--_horrid_. And I'll be as +horrid as I can be to them. But I'll let that nasty Celestina see I'm +right and she's wrong. I _will_.' + + + + +CHAPTER X + +BIDDY'S ESCAPADE + + 'And Dick, though pale as any ghost, + Had only said to me, + "We're all right now, old lad."' + _Author of 'John Halifax.'_ + + +Miss Neale was rather in a hurry to get home that afternoon, so she and +Celestina did not linger at the tea-table as they sometimes did. By +half-past four they had gone, for on Miss Neale's account tea had been +ordered half an hour earlier than usual. + +Rosalys disappeared--mamma wanted her, she said. So Bridget was left +alone, for Rough had begun school some time ago. He rode over every +morning, and got home again about six. + +'I wonder if papa is in,' thought Biddy idly, for a moment or two half +inclined to see if she might pay him a visit in the study. But then she +remembered that he had been out all day, and that he was not expected +home till dinner-time. There were not many very poor people at Seacove, +but there were a great many young men and boys always about the wharf, +and some fishermen and their families living half-way between the little +town and a fishing village called Portscale, some way along the coast. +At Portscale there was a beautiful old church, and a vicar younger and +much more active than Dr. Bunton. Mr. Vane and he had made friends at +once, and to-day they had arranged to visit some of these outlying +neighbours together, for even though Mr. Vane was not at all strong and +had come to Seacove for a rest, he was far too good and energetic not to +do all he possibly could. + +Biddy felt very cross when she remembered that her father was out. She +strolled to the window; it was still bright and sunny--a sudden thought +struck her. She hurried upstairs to the room where her hat and jacket +were lying as she had just taken them off--her boots were still on her +feet, and in less time than it takes me to tell, for Biddy _could_ be +quick if she chose, a sturdy little figure might have been seen trotting +down the sandy path which led to the shore. + +'If they leave me alone I'm forced to amuse myself and do things +alone,' she said to herself, as a sort of excuse to her own conscience, +which _was_ trying, poor thing, to make itself heard, reminding her too +that there were plenty of things she could have done comfortably at home +in the nursery, where Jane Dodson was not bad company when allowed to +talk in her own slow way. There were to-morrow's lessons in the first +place--pleasant, easy lessons to do alone, and not too much of them; and +there was the kettle-holder she was making for grandmamma's birthday! +But no, Biddy refused to listen. She was determined to carry out the +wild scheme she had got in her head--'It _will_ be nice to put Celestina +down,' she said to herself. + +A very few minutes' quick walking, or running rather, for Biddy could +run too when she chose, brought her to the end, or the beginning, +whichever you like to call it, of the long rough road, so to speak, of +stones, stretching far out to sea. Biddy had gone some way along it two +or three times when out with the others; it was a very interesting place +to walk along, as the outgoing tide left dear little pools, which held +all sorts of treasures in the way of seaweed and tiny crabs and +jellyfish, besides which, the scrambling over the pools and picking +one's way was very exciting, especially when there was a merry party of +three or four together. Biddy found it amusing enough even by herself, +for some little time, that is to say. But after a while she got rather +tired of not being able to walk straight on, and once or twice sharp +stones cut and bruised her feet, and she wished she had some one's hand +to take to steady her. She was very eager to get to the other end of the +tongue, or ridge of stones, for once there she felt sure it would be but +easy walking over sand to the lighthouse. For the lighthouse as you will +have guessed, was her destination! + +'I daresay the sand'll be rather wet,' she thought; 'it must be the +wetness that Celestina thought was water, for it shines just like water +sometimes. I'll run over it very quick and my boots are thick. What fun +it'll be to tell Celestina I've been to the lighthouse all by myself!' + +But the stones grew rougher and rougher. The tongue was not really more +than half a mile long, but it seemed much more. Several times before she +got to the end of it Biddy looked back with a half acknowledged thought +that perhaps it would be best to give up the expedition after all--no +one need know she had tried it. But behind her by this time the rough +stones seemed a dreary way, and in front it did not now look far. She +felt as if she _could_ not go back, and she had a sort of vague hope +that somehow or other the nice old man Celestina had told her of would +help her to get home an easier way. Perhaps he would take her round in a +boat! + +At last she got to the end of the stones, and then, oh joy! there lay +before her a beautiful smooth stretch of ripple-marked sand--how +delightful it was to run along it, so firm and pleasant it felt to her +tired little feet. The lighthouse seemed still a good way off--farther +than she had expected, but at first, in the relief of having got off the +stones, she almost felt as if she could fly. She did get over the ground +pretty quickly for some minutes, and even when she began to go more +slowly she kept up a pretty good pace. And at last she saw the queer +building--it reminded her a little of an old pigeon-house at +grandmamma's, for it was not a very high lighthouse--almost close to +her. But, Celestina had spoken truly, between it and her there lay a +good-sized piece of water, stretching up to the rocks, or great rough +stones round the base of the lighthouse--a sort of lake which evidently +was always there, filled up afresh by each visit of the tide. + +Bridget gasped. But she was determined enough once she had made up her +mind. She went close up to the water; it did not look at all deep and +her skirts were very short. Down she sat on the sand, less dry than it +looked, and pulled off her shoes and stockings, tying them up into a +bundle as she had seen tramps do in the country. Then lifting her frock +as high as she could, in she plunged. _Oh_, how cold it was! But the +water did not come up very high, not over her knees, though now and then +a false step wetted her pretty badly. She was shivering all over, but on +she waded, till within a few yards only of the sort of little shore +surrounding the lighthouse, when--what was the matter with the sand, +what made it seem to go away from her all at once? She plunged about, +but on all sides it seemed to be sloping downwards; higher and higher +rose the water, till it was above her waist, and still every movement +made it rise. + +'I'm drowning,' screamed Biddy. 'Oh, help me, help me! Man in the +lighthouse, can't you hear me? Oh, oh, oh!' + +Biddy fortunately had good lungs and her screams carried well. But the +water kept rising, or rather she kept slipping farther down. She was +losing her head now, and had not the sense to stand still, and she was +partly stupefied by cold. It would have gone badly with her but +for--what I must now tell you about. + +It was what would be called, I suppose, a curious coincidence, the sort +of chance, so to say--though 'chance' is a word without real +meaning--that many people think only happens in story-books, in which +I do not at all agree, for I have known in real life far stranger +coincidences than I ever read of--well, it was by a very fortunate +coincidence that that very afternoon Bridget's father happened to be at +the lighthouse. He had gone out there by a sudden thought of Mr. +Mildmay's, the Portscale clergyman I told you of, who had mentioned in +talking that he had not been there for some time. + +'And it is a very fine mild day,' he said. 'It doesn't take twenty +minutes in a boat. If you don't think it would hurt you, Mr. Vane?' + +Mr. Vane was delighted. There was a good deal of the boy about him +still; he loved anything in the shape of a bit of fun, and he loved +boating. So off the two came, and were most pleasantly welcomed by old +Tobias and his second-in-command at the lighthouse. And by another happy +chance, just as Biddy began to wade, Mr. Vane had come to the side of +the lantern-room looking over in her direction. + +'What can that be, moving slowly through that bit of water?' he said to +Tobias. 'I am rather near-sighted. Is it a porpoise?' + +'Nay, nay, sir, not at this season,' replied the old man; 'besides it's +far too shallow for anything like that, though there is a deepish hole +near the middle.' + +He strolled across to where Mr. Vane was standing as he spoke, and +stared out where his visitor pointed to. Then suddenly he flung open one +of the glazed doors and stepped on to the round balcony--perhaps that is +not the right word to use for a lighthouse, but I do not know any +other--outside, followed by Mr. Vane. Just then Biddy's screams came +shrilly through the clear afternoon air, for it was a still day, and out +at the lighthouse, when there was no noise of wind and waves, there was +certainly nothing else to disturb the silence except perhaps the cry of +a sea-gull overhead, or now and then the sound of the fishermen's voices +as they passed by in their boats. And just now the waves were a long way +out and the winds were off I know not where--all the better for the poor +silly child, who, having got herself into this trouble, could do nothing +but scream shrilly and yet more shrilly in her terror. + +Old Tobias turned and looked at Mr. Vane. + +'It's a child, 'pon my soul, it's a child,' he exclaimed, and he sprang +inside again and made for the ladder leading downstairs. But quick as he +was, his visitor was before him. People talk of the miraculous quickness +of a mother's ears; a father's, I think, are sometimes quite as acute, +and Bridget's father loved dearly his self-willed, tiresome, +queer-tempered little girl. Long before he got to the top of the ladder +he knew more than old Tobias, more than any of them--Mr. Mildmay or +young Williams, the other lighthouse man--had any idea of. He knew that +the voice which had reached him was that of his own Biddy, and before +Tobias could give him a hint, or ever a word had been said as to what +was best to do, he had pulled off his coat, tossed away his hat, and was +up to his waist in the water. For though not _so_ deep close round the +lighthouse as at the dangerous place where Biddy had lost her head, this +salt-water lake even at low tide was never less than two or three feet +in depth at the farther side. + +'I can swim,' was all Mr. Vane called out to the three hurrying after +him. But so could Mr. Mildmay, and so could, of course, Tobias and +Williams. And it was not so much the fear of his friend's drowning as +the thought of the mischief that might come to him, delicate as he was, +from the chill and exposure, that made Mr. Mildmay shout after him, +'Come back, I entreat you, Vane; you are not fit for it,' while he +struggled to drag off a very heavy pair of boots he had on--boots he had +on purpose for rough shingly walking, but which he knew would weight him +terribly in the water. + +A touch on his arm made him start. It was Tobias. + +'Stop you here, sir,' he said; 'Bill's off, and he's the youngest and +spryest,' and sure enough there was Williams already within a few yards +of Mr. Vane. 'I don't take it there's much danger of no drownding--and +Bill knows the deep part. But it's cold for the gentleman, so delicate +as he is--we two had best stay dry and be ready to give 'em a hand when +they get in. But it beats me, it do, to think what child could be such a +fool as to try to cross that there water--such a thing's ne'er happened +before.' + +Mr. Mildmay did not like to give in, though he knew there was sense in +what Tobias said. He stood hesitating, one boot half off, but there was +not long to wait. Soon came a cheery cry from Williams, 'All right, sir, +all right,' and in almost less time than it takes to tell it, the two +men, half-swimming, half-wading, were seen returning, carrying between +them a little dripping figure, with streaming hair, white face, and +closed eyes. + +[Illustration: '----carrying between them a little dripping figure, with +streaming hair, white face, and closed eyes.' P. 161.] + +It was thus that Biddy paid her long thought-of visit to the lighthouse. + +She was not drowned, nor anything approaching to it; she had only once, +or twice perhaps, been thoroughly under the water; the whole had in +reality passed very quickly, but not so had it seemed to Biddy. Unless +you have ever been, or thought yourself in danger of drowning, you could +not understand how in such a case seconds seem minutes, and minutes +hours; and the ducking and the cold and the terror all combined had made +things seem worse than they really were. Bridget was almost quite +unconscious by the time her father had got hold of her--perfectly +stupefied any way; her clothes were heavy too, and she was at no time a +light weight. Altogether it was a very good thing indeed that strong +hardy Bill was close behind Mr. Vane, whose powers would not have held +out very long. As it was, he was whiter even than Biddy, his teeth +chattering with cold and nervous excitement, when at last the whole +party found themselves safe in the living-room or kitchen of the +lighthouse. + +Old Tobias had hot blankets down before the fire and a steaming tumbler +of brandy and water ready in no time. Biddy, deposited in front of the +grate, sat up and looked about her in a dazed sort of way. She felt as +if she were dreaming. + +'Biddy,' said her father, 'you must take off the wettest of your things +at once.' + +Biddy began to finger her garments. + +'My frock's the worst,' she said; 'and oh, where's my hat gone?' + +'Never mind your hat, child,' said Tobias. 'Here, step this way,' and he +led her to a sort of partition in the corner of the room, behind which +was his own bed; 'take off your things, my dear, and get into bed with +this blanket round you whiles I sees to the gentleman. You'll be none +the worse of your drenching: salt water's a deal better for not catching +cold. It's the gentleman we must see to. It's the new rector, and a +delicate gentleman he is.' + +Biddy stared up at him. + +'It's my papa,' she said. + +It was the old man's turn to stare now. + +'Your papa!' he exclaimed. He had never dreamt but that Biddy was a +Seacove child, tempted out too far by the fine afternoon--a fisherman's +or boatman's daughter. But however curious he was to hear more, he had +too much sense to cross-question her just then. + +'Get into bed, missie, and get to sleep for a bit, while your things +dry.' + +Biddy had had her share of weak brandy and water; she had never tasted +it before, and it soon sent her to sleep. + +Tobias went back to Mr. Vane. + +'She's all right, sir. I'd no notion as she was your young lady. Was she +awaitin' for you on the sands, or how?' + +Mr. Vane shook his head. + +'I know no more about it than you,' he said. But he still looked so +white and faint that the lighthouse man and the others gave all their +attention to getting him warmed and dried, and at last they got him to +look a little better, though he declared he could not go to sleep. + +'You can stay quiet any way,' said Mr. Mildmay. But Mr. Vane looked up +anxiously. + +'My wife,' he said. 'She will be getting frightened, not about me +merely, but the child.' + +'I will take the boat back at once and tell her,' said Mr. Mildmay; 'if +Williams can come with me, it won't take long. I'll run up to the +Rectory, and then we'll bring another man out to help to row us all back +again. I'll bring some wraps too. You think you'll be fit to go home in +an hour or so?' + +'Certainly,' said Mr. Vane decidedly. 'I could not stay here.' + +Mr. Mildmay reached the Rectory to find poor Mrs. Vane in a sad state of +fright. Biddy's absence had not been discovered for some time, as +Rosalys was busy with her mother, and Rough had not come in from school, +and everybody, if they thought about her at all, naturally thought she +was with some one else. For a girl of seven or eight should surely be +sensible enough to be left to herself for an hour in her own nursery or +schoolroom! But once the hue and cry after her began, it really did seem +as if there were cause for alarm. Every one had some new idea to +suggest, ending by Rough, who, as he came riding in on his pony and +heard the news, declared she must be hiding out of mischief. + +But no--a very short search dispelled that possibility, and the pony had +to be saddled again for Rough to set off as fast as he could to Seacove +to inquire if the truant had perhaps followed Celestina home. + +'And your father not in yet either,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Oh, Alie, what +_can_ be the matter? Can something have happened to him that Biddy has +heard of, and that has made her run off to him--poor Biddy, she is very +fond of papa. But if she has run away out of mischief, Alie--oh, _could_ +she be such a naughty, naughty girl?' + +Mrs. Vane was dreadfully excited. Alie had hard work to keep back her +own tears. + +'Just as we were _so_ happy about the doll-house for her too,' Mrs. Vane +went on. + +Rosalys gave a little sob. + +'I _think_ perhaps she's at Celestina's,' she said. But in less time +than could have been expected back dashed Rough. No, Biddy was not, had +not been at Pier Street, but Celestina and her mother were following him +as fast as they could to the Rectory--Celestina had an idea--she would +explain it all--but she begged Mrs. Vane to send down to the shore; the +sea was out, and it was still light enough to see any one there a good +way off. + +A party was at once despatched to the sands, in vain, as we know, for +by this time Mr. Mildmay had landed from his boat and was hurrying along +to calm Mrs. Vane's anxiety. He arrived there a quarter of an hour or so +after Mrs. Fairchild and her daughter, so Celestina had had time to +explain the idea which had struck her--we know what it was, and that it +was the true one--and to relate to Mrs. Vane all her reasons for +imagining it possible that self-willed, obstinate Biddy had set out on +her own account to walk to the lighthouse. + +So when Mr. Mildmay appeared and told his strange story, his hearers +were able to explain what to him and Mr. Vane had seemed a complete +mystery. + +'How _could_ she be so naughty?' Mrs. Vane exclaimed. But Alie touched +her gently. + +'Only, dear mamma,' she whispered, 'think; she might have been drowned.' + +'And so might your father, and as it is, I tremble to think what the +consequences may be for him. I do feel as if I could not forgive +Bridget,' said Mrs. Vane excitedly. + +Mrs. Fairchild was very, very sorry for her, but she was a brave woman. +She managed to draw Mrs. Vane aside. + +'Dear madam,' she said, 'I do feel for you. But we must be just. +Remember the child had no idea of what would be the result of her folly. +It was really but a piece of childish folly or naughtiness. And it may +be a lesson for all her life; it may be the turning-point for +her--if--if only you would--if you can meet her--gently--if nothing is +said to harden her.' + +'I will try. I promise you I will try,' said Mrs. Vane very softly. 'But +oh, Mrs. Fairchild, if it has made my husband ill!' and her voice broke. + +'We must hope not--hope and pray,' said Celestina's mother in a low +voice. + +'And there was something so interesting I wanted to tell you; I had a +letter to-day from Madame d'Ermont--such a nice letter. And now all this +has spoilt everything,' went on poor Mrs. Vane. + +'Never mind. You will tell me about it another time,' said Mrs. +Fairchild soothingly. 'Would it--excuse my suggesting it--would I be in +the way if I stayed till they come? I have some experience as to chills +and accidents of all sorts--and I would like to see how they are.' + +'Oh, thank you,' said Mrs. Vane fervently. 'I should be most grateful. +I have no one now with any head about me since my last maid left.' + +And Mrs. Fairchild stayed--not that evening only, but all night, sending +Celestina home to explain matters to her father. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +AND ITS CONSEQUENCES + + '"Love will make the lesson light. + ... Teach me how to learn it right," + Through her tears smiled Daisy.'--ANON. + + +For Mrs. Vane's troubles came thickly just then. Before night it was +evident that both Biddy and her father were not to escape all bad +results from the chill and wetting; and the Seacove doctor, who was sent +for at once, looked grave, shook his head as he murmured that it was no +doubt most unfortunate. He would say nothing decided beyond giving some +simple directions till he should see how the patients were the next day. +Biddy, after a violent fit of crying, which came on when she found her +father could not come 'to say good-night,' and begging, among her sobs, +to be forgiven, fell asleep, and slept heavily, to wake again in an hour +or two, feverish, restless, and slightly delirious. This, however, was +on the whole less alarming, for very little will make a child +light-headed, than Mr. Vane's condition. There was no sleep for him, +poor man; he was racked with pain and terribly awake--nervously anxious +to know the ins and outs of Biddy's escapade, and to soften it as much +as possible in her mother's eyes. Mrs. Vane kept her promise of being +very gentle with Biddy, and indeed, when in her room, and seeing the +poor little thing so ill, it was not difficult to be so. But once away +from her, and in sight of her husband's sufferings, the irritation +against Biddy grew almost too great to keep down. And Mrs. Vane was not +very good at keeping down or keeping in her feelings, and each time she +burst out it seemed to make Mr. Vane worse. There was no going to bed +for either her or Mrs. Fairchild that night; indeed, what she would have +done without Celestina's wise and gentle mother I do not know. It was +she who sensibly made the best of it all, soothing Mrs. Vane, who really +needed it almost as much as Biddy and her father; and the only snatches +of sleep Mr. Vane got were when her soft and pleasant voice had been +reading aloud to him. + +'I don't know how to thank you,' said Biddy's mother tearfully the next +morning early, when she at last persuaded Mrs. Fairchild to lie down a +little. 'Can't you stay all day to rest?' + +But Mrs. Fairchild shook her head, smiling. + +'I must go home,' she said. 'At the latest I must go home by ten +o'clock. It will be all right till then. I can trust Celestina to see to +her father's breakfast and everything, and there's not much doing in the +shop before then. Celestina will have let Miss Neale know not to come.' + +'How well you have brought your little girl up--how thoughtful and +womanly she is; and to think that she is only a year or two older than +Bridget!' said Mrs. Vane sadly. + +'It has not been exactly my doing,' Celestina's mother replied. 'I often +think the very things I would have wished different for her have been +the best training. She has _had_ to be helpful and thoughtful; she has +had her own duties and share of responsibility almost all her life.' + +'Biddy never feels responsible for anything--not even for learning her +lessons or being ready for meals,' said her mother. + +'Well, that is just what wants awaking in her. This lesson may show her +that even a child is responsible, that a child may cause sad trouble. +One would rather she had learnt it the other way, but it may be what she +needed.' + +Mrs. Vane sighed. She wanted to be patient, but she could hardly bring +herself to feel that a lesson which was to cost Biddy's father such +suffering, nay, even to risk his life perhaps, would not be too dearly +bought. + +The doctor came, but he was not much more outspoken than the night +before. Biddy was to be kept very quiet, the more she could sleep the +better; as for Mr. Vane, he _hoped_ it would not be rheumatic fever, but +it was plain he feared it. And he advised Mrs. Vane to get a trained +nurse. + +A trying time followed. For some days it seemed almost certain that Mr. +Vane was in for rheumatic fever; in the end he just managed to escape +it, but he was sadly weakened, and the cough, which had disappeared +since his coming to Seacove, began again. It would be weeks before he +could leave his room. + +And Biddy, too, did not get well as had been expected. She lay there +white and silent as if she did not want to get better, only seeming +thoroughly to wake up when she asked, as she did at least every two +hours, how papa was, and sinking back again when the usual answer came +of 'No better,' or 'Very little better.' Her mother was very kind to +her, but she could not be much with Biddy, and perhaps it was as well, +for it would have been almost impossible for her to hide for long her +great unhappiness about Mr. Vane. + +Mrs. Fairchild came to the Rectory as often as she could; sometimes she +sat with Biddy for an hour or more at a time, but Biddy scarcely spoke, +and Celestina's mother was both sorry for her and anxious about her. + +'There seems no one able to pay much attention to her,' she said one +evening at home; 'poor Mrs. Vane is so taken up, and no wonder, with her +husband, and Rosalys is as busy as she can be, helping and seeing to +everything.' + +There came a little voice from the other side of the table: the +Fairchilds were at tea. + +'Mother, do you think I might go to see her?' it asked. 'I'd be very +quiet.' + +'I'll ask,' Mrs. Fairchild answered. 'You might come with me to-morrow +and wait outside while I find out if it would do.' + +Mrs. Vane had no objection--Biddy was really not ill now, she said. It +was just one of her queer ways to lie still and refuse to get up. +Perhaps Celestina would make her ashamed of herself. So Celestina was +brought upstairs, and tapped gently at the door. + +'Come in,' said Bridget, though without looking up. But when the neat +little figure came forward, close to the bedside, and she glanced round +and saw who it was, a smile came over her face--the first for a long +time. + +'Celestina!' she exclaimed joyfully. But then the smile died away again, +and a red flush covered her cheeks and forehead. 'No,' she said, turning +on the other side, 'I don't want to see you. Go away.' + +Celestina felt very distressed. But she wanted to do Biddy good, so she +put back her own feelings. + +'Please don't say that,' she said. 'I'll stay as quiet as anything, but +please don't send me away. I've been so wanting to see you.' + +There was a slight turning towards her on this, and at last Biddy lifted +her head from the pillow a little. + +'Did you truly want to see me?' she said. + +'Of course I did. I've been very sorry about you being ill,' Celestina +replied. + +Biddy did not speak. Then Celestina heard a faint sound, and going up a +little closer still, she saw that Biddy was crying. + +'Dear Miss Biddy,' she whispered. Then a pair of hot little arms, not so +fat as they had been, were stretched out and thrown round her neck. + +'Will you kiss me, Celestina?' whispered Bridget. 'Do you really love +me? If you do, you're the only one. I'm too naughty--I've been too +naughty. I've as good as killed papa--I know he's going to die. I heard +them saying the first night I'd as good as killed him, though I pretended +not to hear. And I've been trying to die myself; I thought p'raps if I +prayed a great, great lot to be forgiven, God would forgive me before I +died. But I want to die, because I'm so naughty I'm only a trouble. And +I _couldn't_ live without papa, knowing I'd as good as killed him. Oh, +Celestina,' and here the voice grew so low that Celestina could scarcely +hear it, 'are you quite sure that papa hasn't died already and they +won't tell me?' and Celestina felt her shiver. + +'I heard him speaking as I came upstairs,' said Celestina, so quietly +that Biddy believed her perfectly; 'the door of his room was open. +I think he must be a little better to-day.' + +'Oh,' said Biddy with a gasp, 'I do wonder if he is.' + +'And----' Celestina began, then stopped again, 'I don't think you should +talk about trying to die like that,' she said. 'I--I think it would be +rather a lazy way of being sorry for what we'd done wrong just to try to +die.' + +'I suppose it's because I'm lazy then. They all say I'm very lazy,' +Biddy replied. 'But I can't help it. I'm not going to try and be good +any more. I fixed that before--before that day. It's no use.' + +Celestina considered a little. + +'I should think,' she said at last--'I should think you would want to +get better to help to take care of your papa and make him better.' + +Biddy started at this. It was a new idea. + +'Do you think they'd let me?' she said in a half whisper. 'I thought I +was too little. Did you ever help to take care of your papa when he was +ill? But p'raps he's never been ill?' + +'Oh yes, he has,' said Celestina, with a sigh. 'I think he's iller than +your papa very often. I do lots of things for him then: I make his tea +always, and tidy his room. And sometimes when he's getting better and +comes downstairs to the parlour I read aloud to him. For when he's ill, +mother has all the more to be in the shop, you know.' + +Bridget listened intently. At last-- + +'Celestina,' she said, 'I do wish I could see papa. It would make me +_quite_ sure he's alive, you know, for it all seems so muddled in my +head since the day I was so naughty. And if he'd forgive me, and if he'd +get better, I think, _perhaps_, I'd ask God to make me better too, so +that I might make papa's tea and read aloud to him like you do.' + +'Perhaps it wouldn't be exactly that,' said Celestina, a little afraid +of the responsibility of putting anything into Bridget's head, 'but I'm +sure you could do _something_. And why shouldn't you see him? Miss Alie +was in his room just now.' + +Bridget would have hung her head if she had not been lying down. As it +was, she looked ashamed. + +'He mustn't get up at all, you know,' she said. 'And one day when they +offered me to go to see him, I wouldn't.' + +'You wouldn't?' exclaimed Celestina. + +'No,' said Biddy; 'I didn't want to see him looking like he did that +day.' + +'But you'd like to see him now, wouldn't you?' + +'Yes,' said Biddy. 'If you were to get me my dressing-gown, Celestina, +don't you think I might just run down the passage and the little stair +and go to see him? He lies on the sofa in his room, Alie said one day.' + +Celestina looked frightened. + +'Don't you think you should ask your mamma first?' she said. 'Besides, +I thought you were too ill to walk.' + +'Oh no,' said Bridget; 'I think I could walk if I tried. But you may go +and ask mamma if you like; I'm sure she'll say I may.' + +Off flew Celestina. She too felt pretty sure that Mrs. Vane would be +pleased to hear of Biddy's wish. But when she got to the room where she +had left her mother with Mrs. Vane, they were not there, and Alie, who +came in a moment afterwards, said they were walking up and down the +garden; if Celestina would go out she would be sure to meet them. 'And +mamma will be very pleased to hear that Biddy wants to go to see papa. +He has asked for her several times, but he said she wasn't to be forced, +not till she felt inclined. Papa _is_ so good and patient, and he is +really a little bit better to-day,' said Rosalys brightly. + +Upstairs Bridget was eagerly waiting for Celestina's return. She had got +out of bed and reached down her dressing-gown for herself, feeling +rather surprised at finding how well she could walk; she had found her +slippers too, and stood there leaning against the bed, quite ready for +her little expedition. + +After a while she crept to the door and peeped out. Sounds, cheerful +sounds of the usual morning stir in a well-managed house came up the +stairs; she heard faint clatter from the kitchen, and now and then a +little laugh or a few words of the servants talking together. But no one +was about upstairs. + +'Papa must be a little better,' thought Bridget, 'else they wouldn't +seem like that. I do wish Celestina would come back. I wonder if she's +forgotten?' + +She edged herself a tiny bit into the passage. It did not seem far, only +along by the balusters and down the little stair to papa's room; and +just then came a sound which seemed to go straight to Biddy's heart. It +was papa's cough--not a very bad one, just his usual little cough. It +seemed to waken her up--till now she had felt almost as if in a sort of +dream; it was so queer to feel and hear all the house-life going on the +same as ever when she had been out of it so long, for ten or twelve days +is a long time to a child--but the sound of papa's cough seemed to make +everything real, to join the past and the present together again, still +more, to touch a spring in Biddy which I think she had scarcely known +was there. And without stopping to think any more, off she set, along +the passage and down the stair, till she found herself, breathless and +rather giddy, but full of eagerness, at her father's door. + +It was open, as Celestina had said, and half shy now, Biddy peeped in. +He was lying on a couch between the fire and the window; it was a bright +spring-like morning--he had a book in his hand, but he did not seem to +be reading; he was quite still, his eyes were gazing out to the clear +blue sky, and the look in his face was very sweet. Then again came the +little cough. That was the signal. In rushed Biddy. + +'Papa, dear papa,' she cried, as she half threw herself, half tumbled +upon him, for she felt giddy again with moving so fast. 'Dear papa, are +you getting better? Please don't die, dear papa, and I _will_ try to be +good. And oh, please forgive me, and don't say I as good as killed you.' + +'My poor little Biddy,' said Mr. Vane, raising himself so as to see her, +and drawing her tenderly on to the couch beside him,--'my poor little +Biddy. So you've come to see me at last! And are you getting better, +dear?' + +'Yes, yes, papa, but please tell me you're not going to die because of +me,' and Biddy began to cry, but gently, not in her old way. + +Mr. Vane tried to speak, but his cough was troublesome. + +'I think I'm a little better, dear,' he said, 'and, please God, I hope +to be better yet. And it will be a great help to me if I see you quite +well again, and trying to be of use to mamma, Biddy, and to Alie. You +can help to nurse me, you know.' + +Biddy looked up. The very things Celestina had said! + +'Papa!' she said, 'might I really? Would mamma let me? Will everybody +forgive me?' + +Was it Biddy speaking? Even her father could scarcely believe it. + +Just at that moment Mrs. Vane came hurriedly into the room: she had been +to Biddy's, on receiving Celestina's message, and finding the bird +flown, had naturally taken alarm. + +'_Biddy!_' she exclaimed, as she caught sight of the child beside her +father, his arm round her, her eager flushed face looking up at him--and +her tone was rather anxious and annoyed. But Mr. Vane glanced at his +wife with a little sign which she understood. She came quickly towards +them. + +'Biddy,' whispered her father, 'here is mamma.' + +Bridget's face worked for a moment, then she flung her arms round her +mother's neck. + +'Mamma, mamma,' she whispered, 'I'm going to try to be good--if only +you'll forgive me. I don't want to die if I can be good and help to +nurse papa. Mamma, there was something _very_ sorry came into my heart +when papa got me out of the water and I saw how white he was. But I +wouldn't listen to it, and it got hard and horrid. But now it's come +again--Celestina began it, and I _will_ be good--and _don't_ you think +God will make papa better?' + +I don't think Mrs. Vane had ever kissed Biddy as she kissed her then. + + * * * * * + +Doctors say that _wishing_ to get better has a good deal to do with it. +It did seem so in Mr. Vane's case; he was not afraid to die, but he was +still young, and it seemed to him that if he were spared to live there +were many good and useful things he could do. And he was a happy and +cheerful man; he loved being alive, and he loved this beautiful world, +and longed to make other people as happy as he was himself. Most of all +he loved his wife and children, and his great wish to get well was for +their sake more than for any other reason. And never during the several +illnesses he had had did he wish _quite_ so much to get well as now. For +he had a feeling that if he did not recover a sad shadow would be cast +over Biddy's life--a shadow that would not grow lighter but darker, he +feared, as she came more fully to understand that her folly or childish +naughtiness had been the cause of his illness and death. + +'It would leave a sore memory in her mother's heart too,' Mr. Vane said +to himself, 'however much she tried not to let it come between her and +the child.' + +And I fear it would have done so. + +So Biddy's father did his best to get well. Not by fidgeting and +worrying and thinking of nothing but his own symptoms, but by cheerful +patience. He obeyed the doctor's orders exactly, and forced himself to +believe that the work he would fain have been doing would get done, by +God's help, even though _he_ might not do it; he kept up his interest in +all going on about him, watching with the keenest interest the pretty, +shy approaches of the spring from his window; he read as much as he was +allowed, and helped Rough with his lessons in the evening, and had a +bright smile for everybody at all times. + +'I almost feel as if he were too good to live,' said Mrs. Fairchild one +evening to Celestina and her father, when she had returned from a visit +to the rectory. But this time it was Mr. Fairchild's turn to speak +cheerily, for he too had been spending an hour or two with the invalid +that day. + +'I saw a decided improvement to-day,' he said. 'I do think Mr. Vane's +patience is wonderful, but I have a strong feeling that he is really +beginning to gain ground.' + +Celestina's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and so did her mother's. The +two families had grown very much attached to each other in these few +weeks. + +'_Won't_ they all be happy when he gets well?' said the little girl. +'And oh, mother, isn't dear little Biddy different from what she was? +She is so gentle and thoughtful, and she's hardly _never_ cross. She +does so many little things to help.' + +Mrs. Fairchild smiled. In her heart she thought that Celestina had +certainly had a hand in this pleasant change, but she would not say so. +Children got less praised '_then_-a-days,' as a little friend of mine +calls long ago, for their parents were exceedingly afraid of spoiling +them, and the thought of taking any credit to herself had never entered +the child's mind. + +'I do hope,' she went on, 'that Biddy's papa will be nearly quite well +by her birthday. It'll come in a month, you know, mother, and the +doll-house is almost quite ready. Mrs. Vane has begun working at it +again the last few days, and Rosalys and I and Miss Neale have all been +helping. It _will_ be so lovely, mother,' and Celestina's face lighted +up with pleasure quite as great as if it was all for herself. + +Truly, selfish people have _no_ idea what happiness they miss! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ANOTHER BIRTHDAY + + 'Rare as is true love, true friendship is still rarer.' + LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. + + +Bridget's birthday came in May--the middle of May. From the time I have +told you about in the last chapter Mr. Vane went on getting slowly +better; at least he got no worse. But it did seem very slow. At last +there came a day on which the doctor gave him leave to go downstairs. + +'I want to see what he can do,' the doctor explained. 'At this rate we +might go on for months and gain little ground. Perhaps he is stronger +than he seems.' + +They were all very eager and excited about this great step. It was an +'afternoon' day, as the little girls called those days on which +Celestina and Miss Neale came back again, and this afternoon Mrs. +Fairchild came with them. Mrs. Vane was thankful to have her at hand in +case of any help being needed. And all the children were sent out for a +walk, with the promise of finding papa in the drawing-room when they +came in again. + +But as they were coming home they were met by Rough at the Rectory gate. +It was one of his occasional half-days. He ran out to meet them, but he +looked rather grave. + +'Is papa down? Is he in the drawing-room?' cried Rosalys and Biddy. + +'Yes,' said Rough; 'but mamma's been rather frightened about him. He +seems so weak. She's sent me for the doctor, and he's there now. So you +must not go in to see papa. That's why I came to meet you.' + +Alie's face fell and Biddy's grew very red. + +'I'm sure _we_ shouldn't hurt him,' she said. 'It's all that nasty +doctor,' and she almost looked as if she were going to get into one of +her old tempers. + +Celestina took hold of her hand gently. + +'Don't, Biddy dear,' she whispered. 'Perhaps when the doctor goes you'll +see him;' which did Bridget far more good than if she had overheard, as +she luckily did not, Rough's remark to Alie: 'I don't think _she's_ any +right to grumble when it's all her doing.' + +It was not a kind thing to say, but then Rough's heart was sore and +anxious, and when one feels so it is difficult not to be cross and +sharp. All their hearts were sore, I think. Children jump on so fast in +their minds. Bride and Rough, and Alie too, I daresay, had fancied to +themselves that once 'downstairs' again papa would seem directly like +himself, and this news was a great disappointment. So the little party +went in rather sadly, Miss Neale telling them in a low voice to take off +their things and come down to tea in the schoolroom as quietly as +possible, Rough, over whom her authority did not extend, stationing +himself at the front door to watch for the doctor's departure. + +He stayed some time, and when he had gone Mr. Vane asked for the +children. + +'In a little,' Mrs. Vane answered. Then she turned to Celestina's +mother. 'This idea has rather taken my breath away,' she said, but her +voice was pretty cheerful. + +'I hardly see how it is to be managed,' said Mr. Vane, for once rather +despondently. + +'We will talk it all over afterwards,' said Mrs. Vane, at a little sign +from Celestina's mother; 'and now we will leave you to rest a while.' + +'Oh dear, Mrs. Fairchild,' she said, when they were alone in the next +room, 'I wonder what we can do. It is dreadful to think of going +abroad--to be alone among strangers, and my husband so ill. And then +leaving the children. I cannot send them to my mother. Her house is full +with my eldest brother's family home from India.' + +'I think they would get on very well here,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'And +your own governess will be back in a fortnight. Of course Miss Neale +would be too young for such a charge; besides, she cannot leave her +mother. And--you must excuse my suggesting it--but is not Madame +d'Ermont's home somewhere in the south?' + +'To be sure,' exclaimed Mrs. Vane, starting up joyfully; 'how stupid of +me not to have thought of it! Thank you so much for reminding me. I have +her last letter here. You have written to her yourself, have you not?' + +'Yes, indeed. I wrote to thank her very much for her kindness,' said +Mrs. Fairchild. 'It may be of the greatest advantage to Celestina some +day.' + +For I have been so busy with the story of Biddy's escapade and its +consequences, that I have put off too long telling of the French lady's +kind letter to Mrs. Vane about her old friend Mrs. Fairchild and her +little name-daughter Celestina. + +'It has touched me very much,' she wrote, 'to find I was still +remembered; and if ever I can be of use to little Célestine and her +mother I hope she or you will let me know.' + +Well, the doctor had ordered Mr. Vane to go abroad, as I daresay you +will have guessed. + +It was a sad disappointment, just when they had come to Seacove and he +seemed so well, and though no one reproached her, Bridget felt that the +consequences of her self-will were not to be soon forgotten. + +It was all settled very quickly; and from the time it was settled Mr. +Vane, 'out of contradiction,' he said laughing, really seemed to improve +faster than hitherto. So that he was looking a good deal more like 'a +proper papa,' as Alie said, the day he and Mrs. Vane started on their +long journey. + +'I am so glad you are going to be near that nice old lady,' said Alie, +amidst her tears; 'and oh, mamma dear, I will try to do everything you +would like.' + +'I am sure you will, darling, and it is a great comfort to feel so much +happier about Biddy now. You will try to make a nice birthday for her, +I know.' + +'There'll be the surprise--that's something nice to look forward to. And +we may have Celestina as often as we like, mayn't we?' + +'As often as her mother can spare her, of course,' Mrs. Vane answered. + +Then came Biddy. She was not crying, though she winked her eyes a good +deal. + +'Mamma, I'll try to be good,' she said bluntly; 'and if papa gets quite +well again'--here her voice broke. 'Oh, mamma, if only it was the day +for you and papa to come back, and him quite, _quite_ well. Mamma, I +think I'd never be naughty again.' + +This was a great, great deal from Biddy! + +That day _did_ come, but a good many other days had to pass before it +came, and some of these were rather sad and anxious ones. For the first +letters from abroad were not as cheerful as Mrs. Vane would have liked +to make them for the little party so eagerly awaiting them at Seacove +Rectory. Mr. Vane was very tired by the journey, and had it not been for +the kindness of Madame d'Ermont, who would not hear of them staying +anywhere but in her house, at any rate till he grew stronger, Mrs. Vane +said she felt as if she would have lost heart altogether. But after a +little things brightened up again. 'Papa really seems to get stronger +every day,' she wrote; and on Bridget's birthday morning there came a +letter from papa himself, all scented with the sweet violets he had +slipped into it--for that was long before the days of parcel posts, by +which flowers reach us from the south of France and Italy as fresh as if +we had just gathered them in our own gardens--and telling of quite a +long walk he had been able to take without feeling too tired. The letter +ended up with wishing Biddy a truly happy birthday, and hopes that it +might be bright and sunny at Seacove. 'I only wish I could pack up some +of the sunshine here to send you,' wrote Mr. Vane, 'for we have enough +and to spare of it. But after all, the best sunshine of all is that of +happy and contented and loving hearts--is it not, my Biddy?' + +There was sunshine of both kinds that day at the Rectory. Celestina came +early, almost immediately after breakfast indeed, so as to be present at +the great 'surprise.' She was to spend the whole day for once with her +friends, which was a great treat, though she saw them regularly once or +twice a week when she came to have a French lesson from Miss Millet. +Mrs. Vane had arranged this before she left, for little Miss Neale, who +now gave Celestina lessons every day at Pier Street, could not teach +French, and it was a great pleasure, and help too, to Biddy to have +industrious, attentive Celestina still her companion in something. + +But to-day, of course, there was no question of lessons of any kind. + +They had breakfast extra early, which some children I know, would not, +I fear, consider a treat. Indeed, I once heard of some young people, +scarcely to be called children, and by no means overworked young people +either, who chose for a holiday pleasure that they should stay in bed +for breakfast, and not get up till the middle of the day, which, I must +say, I did not at all admire. The great reason for the extra early +breakfast on Biddy's birthday was not that the Vane children were so +_very_ fond of being up betimes, but that Rough wanted to be there at +the great scene, and with some difficulty he had got an hour's 'grace' +from school that morning. + +To begin at the beginning--for I know that when I was a child I liked to +be told all about everything--the first pleasure of the day, after the +reading of papa's nice letter, was the sight of the breakfast-table. +Kind Miss Millet and Alie had dressed it up with cowslips after Biddy +had gone to bed the night before, for there were cowslips, and very +pretty ones, to be had in some woods a mile or two inland from Seacove. +And May birthdays always make one think of cowslips. + +The breakfast itself was very nice too--extra nice; for there was no +bread and milk for once, but only 'grown-up' things--a tempting dish of +ham and eggs, and delicious hot rolls and tea-cakes, and strawberry jam +and honey to eat with them as a finish up. And besides the letter from +papa--which had _really_ come the day before and been kept till this +morning, as, in his fear of being too late, Mr. Vane had sent it off +rather too soon--there was a neat little packet for Biddy from +grandmamma, containing a story-book called _The Christmas Stocking_, and +a lovely scarf worked in all kinds of marvellous Eastern colours, +'making one think of the Arabian nights,' as Alie said, from the Indian +cousins. So that it was with a sigh of deep content that Biddy sat down +to breakfast, knowing that something still more delightful and wonderful +was in store. + +Celestina arrived before breakfast was quite over, and Rough ran out and +brought her into the dining-room, where she had to eat a roll and +strawberry jam to refresh her after her early walk. And then when every +one had finished and Rough had said grace, they all set off to the +schoolroom. + +'Shut your eyes, Biddy,' said Rough. 'I'll lead you in, and mind you +don't open them till I tell you.' + +There stood Biddy, as quiet as a mouse, though her heart was beating +fast, till, after one or two whispered directions--'That isn't quite +straight,' 'Put the chairs by the fire, Celestina,' and so on--came +Rough's voice-- + +'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes.' + +[Illustration: 'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes.' P. 195.] + +And 'open her eyes' she did, though she half shut them again the next +minute, and then had to rub them to make sure they were not tricking +her. For there in front of her, on the schoolroom table, stood, its two +big doors flung wide open, the very nicest, most complete doll-house +that, in those days at least, could have been imagined. There were six +good-sized rooms: drawing-room, dining-room, two bedrooms, nursery, and +kitchen--the last, perhaps, the most fascinating of all, with its little +kitchen-range, its rows of brightly shining pots and pans, some black, +some tin, and some copper; its dresser and shelves, and charming dinner +service, and ever so many other things it would take me a very long time +to describe. And the dining-room, with its brown and gold papered walls, +and red velvet carpet and little stuffed chairs; and the drawing-room, +with sofas covered in dainty chintz and blue carpet and gilt-framed +mirrors; and the bedrooms, one white and one pink; and the nursery, with +the _sweet_ little cradle and rocking-chair and baths and wash-hand +stands and I don't know all what--truly it was a very pretty sight. +Biddy gasped; she could not speak. + +'And only think, Biddy,' said Rosalys; 'it is our own old doll-house +done up. The one mamma had herself when she was a little girl, you know. +Doesn't that make it all the nicer? You _can't_ think how we've all +worked at it. We'd begun it before--before papa and you got ill; that +was our secret that Celestina and I were always whispering about.' + +And in her delight even staid Alie gave two or three jumps up into the +air! But as she came down again she felt herself caught round the neck +and hugged and squeezed. Oh, how she _was_ hugged and squeezed! + +And '_Oh_, Alie,' whispered Biddy, 'you are too good to me; for you +don't know how naughty I felt about your having a secret.' + +'Never mind, never mind. I daresay it was my fault. Mamma says it's very +teasing to talk about secrets, but it's all right now, and we are all +going to be so happy with the doll-house, aren't we? Now you must kiss +Celestina too; you don't know what a lot she's done. She hemmed the +sheets of the beds and the table-cloths and ever so many things, and her +mamma dressed the dolls--and--oh yes, Roughie papered nearly all the +rooms, and----' + +But here Rosalys, who seemed to be turning all of a sudden into a +regular chatterbox, was interrupted by more huggings and squeezings, as +Rough rather objected to much of this sort of thing, and Biddy had still +a great deal to spare even after she had bestowed a full share upon +Celestina. She quieted down, however, when Miss Millet suggested that +unless they set to work to go all over the house and admire all its +numberless treasures, it would be getting too late for the nice walk +they wanted to have before dinner. But in the midst of the showing +everything Celestina made them all laugh by calmly taking a little +parcel from her pocket, from which she drew out three or four little +dolls, announcing that they were Eleanor and Amy and one or two new +ones, all in grand clothes for the occasion, who had come to spend the +day with the Rectory doll party. + +'You did invite them, Alie, you remember, don't you?' she said, looking +a little bit aggrieved. 'They would never have come without being +invited.' + +'Oh yes, I know I did,' Rosalys replied. 'It was only the funny way you +pulled them out of your pocket.' + +'And some day, Biddy, mother says, perhaps you'll bring yours to drink +tea with mine,' said Celestina, quite pleased again. 'We might pretend +that mine were some cousins they had in the country who were not very +rich, you know,' she went on simply. 'And I'd make their parlour as +smart as I could. I'd try to dress it up with flowers and green, so that +it would be like an arbour.' + +'Yes,' said Biddy, 'that _would_ be nice. And _we_ might have tea as +well as the dolls, mightn't we, Celestina? You know once you told me +about some little cups you have that we might have tea out of.' + +'Oh yes,' Celestina replied hospitably, '_of course_ we'd have real tea +too. Mother would make some cakes and----' + +'My dears,' said Miss Millet, 'I think we must be going out. You will +have all the rest of the day to play with the doll-house, but it is such +a lovely morning, and I think it's always so nice to have a good walk on +a holiday.' + +The little girls were quite of their governess's opinion, only sorry +that Randolph could not make one of the party. He came home, however, in +good time in the afternoon, and they all had a very merry tea together. + +'What a nice birthday it's been!' said Bride, as she and Alie kissed +Celestina, whose mother managed to spare an hour to come to fetch her +and at the same time to wish Biddy 'many happy returns.' 'How good of +you to dress the dolls for me, Mrs. Fairchild!' she went on. 'I think +I shall love the doll-house more and more every day, for, you see, it's +full of kind things you've all done for me. And I'm going to keep it +_so_ neat. Mamma will be quite surprised when she comes home to find how +neat I've learnt to be.' + +'And only think, Mrs. Fairchild,' added Rosalys; 'do you know that papa +and mamma will most likely be home in one month? Just fancy, how nice!' + +The 'most likely' came true. One month saw Mr. and Mrs. Vane safe back +at Seacove; 'papa' so bright and well, so bronzed and ruddy too, that it +was difficult to believe he was the same feeble-looking invalid who had +started on his long journey nine weeks before. + + * * * * * + +It is not often--very seldom, indeed--that I am able to tell my readers +'what became of' the children they have come to know, and sometimes, I +hope, to care for in these simple stories. But as it is now many years +ago since the Vane family came to Seacove Rectory, and as Randolph and +his sisters and Celestina Fairchild have long ago been grown-up people, +I can give you another peep of them some eight or ten years after the +birthday I have been telling you about. + +The curtain rises again on a different scene. + +It is a lovely, old-fashioned garden, exquisitely neat and filled with +plants and flowers, showing at their best in the bright soft light of a +midsummer afternoon. A rectory garden, but not Seacove. Poor Seacove, +with its sandy soil and near neighbourhood to the sea, could not have +produced the velvety grass of that old bowling-green, now (for we are +still speaking of a good many years ago) a croquet-ground, or the +luxuriant 'rose hedge' bordering one end. Two girls were walking slowly +up and down the wide terrace walk in front of the low windows, talking +as they walked. One was tall and slight, with a fair sweet face--a very +lovely face, and one that no one loved and admired more heartily than +did her younger sister. + +'Alie dear, I do hope you've had a happy birthday,' said +Bridget--sixteen-years-old Bridget!--for Rosalys was twenty-one to-day. +'There are some birthdays one should remember more than others. A +twenty-first birthday is a _very_ particular one, isn't it?' + +'Yes indeed, Biddy, it is,' Alie replied. 'I can scarcely believe it. +And fancy, in five years more _you_ will be twenty-one!' + +'I hope I shall go on growing till then,' said Biddy, whose great +ambition was to be as tall as her sister. 'Some girls do, don't they? +And I have grown a good deal this year. I don't look as stumpy as I did, +do I?' and Biddy looked up in her sister's face with a pleasant +smile--a smile that showed her pretty white teeth and shone out of her +nice brown eyes. She was not lovely like Alie, but she had a dear honest +face--though she was still rather freckled, and her dark wavy hair gave +her a somewhat gipsy look. + +'You aren't a bit stumpy--you're just nice,' said Rosalys, 'though I +daresay you will grow some more. Just think what a little roundabout you +once were, and how you've grown since then.' + +'Yes indeed,' laughed Biddy. 'Talking of birthdays, Alie, do you +remember my eighth birthday? The one at Seacove, when papa and mamma +were away after his being so ill, and when you all gave me the +doll-house--the dear old doll-house; do you know I really sometimes play +with it still? I often think of Seacove.' + +'So do I,' said Alie. 'Of course I didn't like it _as much_ as this, for +this garden is so sweet and the country all about here is so beautiful, +and then it's so nice to be near grandmamma. But Seacove had a great +charm about it too.' + +'The sea,' said Biddy--'the sea and the sunsets,' she went on half +dreamily; 'I always think when I see a red sunset----' but then she +stopped. There are some thoughts that one keeps _quite_ in one's own +mind! + +'I always feel grateful to Seacove,' she said after a moment's pause. +'Mamma is quite sure that the three years we lived there did more than +anything to make papa strong again. What a blessing it is that he is so +well now!' + +'And quite able for all his work here, though he could never stand +London again,' said Alie. 'I wish Rough had gone into the Church too, +Bride--that is to say, I wish _he_ had wished it. Then we should have +had him somewhere near us, instead of far away in India,' and she gave a +little sigh. + +'But he's getting on so well--he was just _made_ to be a soldier,' said +Biddy. 'And papa says it is like that. Some people just _feel_ what +they're meant to be. And Rough is a great comfort, even though he has to +be away--and you know, Alie,' she went on quite gravely, 'I don't think +there _could_ have been another as good as papa, not in the same way: +he's just nearly an angel.' Alie did not disagree. 'And Roughie will be +home before your next birthday, you know.' + +'I hope so indeed,' said Rosalys. + +'Talking about long ago,' went on Bride, to whom eight or nine years +were still a _very_ 'long ago,' 'reminds me of dear little Celestina. +What ages it is since we have heard of her--not since the year her +father died, and we were afraid they were left rather badly off. How +strange it seems, Alie, doesn't it? that poor Mr. Fairchild should have +died and papa got well, when you think how ill papa was and that he +seemed quite well then.' + +'He was always delicate--Mr. Fairchild, I mean,' said Rosalys. 'But it +was very sad; they were so very fond of him. But, Biddy, we have heard +of Celestina since then--don't you remember, mamma wrote to tell Madame +d'Ermont of their trouble, and she wrote to Mrs. Fairchild inviting them +to visit her? They couldn't go--not then--but mamma had another letter, +thanking her and telling us where they were going to live. Still all +that is a good while ago, and when mamma wrote again her letter was +returned.' + +'How kind they were to us at Seacove!' said Bridget. 'I would love to +see Celestina again--fancy, she must be grown up.' + +What I am now going to tell you will seem to some people 'too strange to +be true,' but begging these wise people's pardon, I cannot agree with +them. Strange things of the kind--coincidences, they are sometimes +called--have happened to me myself, too often, for me not to believe +that 'there is something in it.' In plain words, I believe that our +spirits are sometimes conscious of each other's nearness much sooner +than our clumsy bodies are. How very often is one met with the remark, +'Why, we were just speaking of you!' How often does the thought of some +distant friend suddenly start into our memories an hour or two before +the post brings us a letter penned by the dear far-away fingers! + +Something of this kind was what happened now. A young man-servant came +out of the house and made his way to where the girls were. + +'If you please, miss,' he said, 'a young lady is in the library waiting +to see you. My mistress is out. The lady asked for both you and Miss +Bridget.' + +'Who can it be?' said Rosalys. + +'How tiresome!' said Biddy. + +But they were accustomed to see visitors that had to be seen when their +mother was out, and they went together to the library. + +Alie went in first, but she stood perplexed and a little confused as a +slight tall figure rose from a chair and came forward to meet her. + +'I am afraid,' the stranger began, but before she could say another +word, or before Alie had time to do more than think to herself, much +more quickly than it takes to tell it, that surely she _should_ know +that sweet pale face and bright though gentle eyes, Biddy had darted +forward and was throwing her arms round the young girl's neck. 'Don't +you know her, Alie?' she cried. '_I_ do. It's dear little Celestina, +grown up, and oh, how nice and pretty and good you look! And we've been +speaking of you all this morning. It's Alie's birthday; she's +twenty-one, just fancy! And where have you been, and where's your +mother, and----' + +Her breathlessness gave Rosalys time to come forward and warmly kiss +Celestina in her turn. Then they made her sit down; she was looking +rather tired, for she had had a long walk in the sun--and by degrees she +told them all her news. There was a good deal to tell. The last four +years had been spent by her mother and herself in France, not far from +Madame d'Ermont, whom Celestina described as having been more than kind. + +'She paid for all my schooling and lessons,' the girl said simply, 'so +that mother could afford to stay with me all the time. Mother gave some +English lessons herself too. And I was able to learn French _quite_ +well, which will be such an advantage to me. The last two years I taught +English at the school, so the expenses were not so great. And we spent +the summer holidays at Madame d'Ermont's château. Oh, she was _so_ +kind!' + +'But why have you not written to us all this time?' asked her friends. + +'We have--two or three times, but the address must have been wrong, for +one letter was returned to us. I remember I put all rightly except the +county, for I did not think that necessary; and now--the other day, I +mean--when, we had answered the advertisement and were inquiring about +Calton, we found that there are actually three or four places of the +name in England. And oh, we were so delighted when we found on getting +there that Laneverel Rectory was only two miles off.' + +'Are you living at Calton then? What do you mean about an advertisement? +Is your mother at Calton?' + +Celestina laughed and blushed at her own confused way of explaining. + +'I am so pleased at seeing you that I am losing my head,' she said. +'Yes, we have come to live at Calton. We have got the dearest little +house there. And I am French teacher at the large girls' school just +outside the town. I get sixty pounds a year--is it not delightful? So we +are quite rich. If only--you don't know how I wish poor father could +have enjoyed it too--if he could but have had a few years of the +pleasant life and rest.' + +She smiled through the tears in her eyes. Biddy stroked her hand gently. + +'But you yourself--it isn't all rest for you?' said Alie, thinking as +she spoke that it was 'Celestina all over,' never giving a thought to +herself. + +'Oh no, I have to work of course. But I like it. And some of my pupils +are very nice and intelligent. Besides--I should be miserable if I were +idle,' she added brightly. + +'Yes, indeed,' both the girls heartily agreed. 'We are very busy too, +Celestina. We have lots and lots of things to do at home to help papa +and mamma, and all the village people to look after, and the schools and +the choir and the church. You must see the church, Celestina.' + +'It is just--almost, at least--perfect,' added Biddy enthusiastically, +'compared with poor old Seacove! Oh, do you remember the high pews with +curtains round, and the old clerk, and the pulpit like a Queen Elizabeth +bedstead.' + +'Only _without_ curtains,' said Celestina, at which they all laughed. +They were so happy they would have laughed at anything! + +Then Celestina had to be told about Rough, and how well he was getting +on, though so far away, alas! And _then_ she had to be taken out into +the garden to see its beauties, and have promises of unlimited cuttings +and seeds and I don't know all what for her own little garden. There was +poor old Smuttie's grave to show her too, in one corner, for Smut had +lived to enjoy a year or two of peaceful and slumberous old age on the +sunny doorstep in summer and the library hearthrug in winter at +Laneverel Rectory. And _then_ came the sounds of wheels, and the pony +carriage turned in at the gate with Mr. and Mrs. Vane, and all the story +of the joyful surprise had to be told over again. + +The rector and his wife welcomed their old young friend as heartily as +their daughters had done, you may be sure. They pressed her to stay to +dinner, promising to drive her home in the cool of the evening, but +this, Celestina, unselfish as ever, would not do, for 'mother' might be +uneasy. So they had a very delightful 'afternoon tea' in the garden, for +afternoon teas were just coming into fashion, and Rosalys and Bride +walked half-way home with Celestina, parting with invitations and +promises on both sides. Celestina was to spend at least _half_ of her +half-holidays at the Rectory, and Alie was to drive to Calton to fetch +Mrs. Fairchild the very next Saturday, and the sisters were to pay +Celestina a long visit the following week, to see the dear little house +and all her treasures. + +'You shall have tea in the sweet little French tea-cups Madame d'Ermont +gave me,' said she joyfully. 'They are a _little_ bigger than my doll +ones long ago.' + +'Oh dear,' said Biddy, 'that reminds me of the time I invited myself to +tea to your house, and Alie was so shocked at me. I _was_ a horrid +little girl.' + +'No, you _weren't_', said both the others. 'And any way,' added Alie +fondly, 'isn't she nice now, Celestina?' + +'I've never had any friends, if I may call you so,' was Celestina's +indirect reply, 'that I have cared for as for you two,' and there was a +dewy look in her gentle eyes which said even more than her words. + + * * * * * + +A _real_ friendship--a friendship to last through the changes that +_must_ come; a friendship too firmly based to be influenced by the fact +that none of us, not even the sweetest and truest, are 'perfect,' that +we _must_ 'bear and forbear,' and gently judge each other while in this +world--such friendships are very rare. We are not _bound_ to our +friends, not obliged to make the best of them, as with relations, and +so, too often, we throw each other off hastily, take offence in some +foolish way, and the dear old friendship is a thing of the past, one of +those 'used to be's' that are so sad to come across in our memory. But +it is not always so. Some friendships wear well, sending down their +roots ever deeper and more firmly as the years go on, spreading out +their gracious branches ever more widely overhead for us to find shelter +and rest beneath them in the stormy as in the sunny days of life. And +oh, dear children, such friendship is something to thank God for! + +My little girls, whose friendship began in the old back parlour at +Seacove, are not even young women now--they are getting down into the +afternoon of life--but they are still friends, true and tried. Friends +whom sorrow and trials only join together still more closely; whose love +for and trust in each other even death cannot destroy. + + +THE END + + + + +_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_. + + * * * * * + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Punctuation errors have been repaired. + +The original text had a frontispiece that the list of illustrations +recorded as being on page 89. It has been moved from the front to +the text it refers to. + +Page 180, "springlike" changed to "spring-like". + +Page 169, "beggings" changed to "begging". + +Illustration that begins "----carrying" original read P. 162. Actual +text is on page 161 and the table of illustrations reads 161. + +All illustration captions but one were mixed case. This was retained. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rectory Children, by Mrs Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECTORY CHILDREN *** + +***** This file should be named 18275-8.txt or 18275-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/2/7/18275/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Rectory Children + +Author: Mrs Molesworth + +Illustrator: Walter Crane + +Release Date: April 28, 2006 [EBook #18275] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECTORY CHILDREN *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> + + +<h1>THE RECTORY CHILDREN</h1> + +<h2>BY MRS MOLESWORTH</h2> + +<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY<br /> + +WALTER CRANE</h3> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 243px;"> +<img src="images/title.png" width="243" height="382" alt="Title page" title="Title page" /> +</div> + +<div class="center"><br /><br />London<br /> +MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED<br /> +NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> +1897</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> +<p class="center">TO<br /> +MY NIECE AND GOD-DAUGHTER<br /> +Helen Louisa Delves Walthall<br /> +</p> + + +<div> +<span style="margin-left: 10em;">85</span> <span class="smcap">Lexham Gardens</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;"><i>Shrove Tuesday</i>, 1889.</span><br /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p> + + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='center'><span class="smcap">page</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER I</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Parlour behind the Shop</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER II</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Those Young Ladies</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_18'>18</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER III</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Trying Child</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_34'>34</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER IV</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Biddy has some New Thoughts</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_51'>51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER V</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Celestina</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_66'>66</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER VI<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Window in the Wall</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_83'>83</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER VII</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">On the Seashore</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_99'>99</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER VIII</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Nice Plan</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_117'>117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER IX</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Secret</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_134'>134</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER X</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Biddy's Escapade</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_151'>151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER XI</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">And its Consequences</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_169'>169</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'><br />CHAPTER XII</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Another Birthday</span></td><td align='right'><a href='#Page_186'>186</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'><span class="smcap">page</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'——and—oh, Alie, I have so torn my frock, and it's my afternoon one—my new merino'</td><td align='right'><a href='#allie'>27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the other child</td><td align='right'><a href='#little'>75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show'</td><td align='right'><a href='#lantern'>89</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'I would like to go there,' she said</td><td align='right'><a href='#go'>115</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>A secret</td><td align='right'><a href='#secret'>148</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>——carrying between them a little dripping figure, with streaming hair, white face, and closed eyes</td><td align='right'><a href='#carrying'>161</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes'</td><td align='right'><a href='#now'>195</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Oh little hearts!"> +<tr><td align='left'>'O little hearts! that throb and beat,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">With such impatient, feverish heat,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Such limitless and strong desires.'</span>—<span class="smcap">Longfellow.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE RECTORY CHILDREN</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3>THE PARLOUR BEHIND THE SHOP</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="I was very solitary"> +<tr><td align='left'>'I was very solitary indeed.'</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4.5em;">(<i>Visit to the Cousins</i>).</span>—<span class="smcap">Mary Lamb.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>The blinds had been drawn down for some time in the back parlour behind +Mr. Fairchild's shop in Pier Street, the principal street in the little +town of Seacove. And the gas was lighted, though it was not turned up +very high. It was a great thing to have gas; it had not been known at +Seacove till recently. For the time of which I am writing is now a good +many years ago, thirty or forty at least.</p> + +<p>Seacove, though a small place, was not so out-of-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span>the-way in some +respects as many actually larger towns, for it was a seaport, though not +a very important one. Ships came in from all parts of the globe, and +sailed away again in due course to the far north, and still farther off +south; to the great other world of America, too, no doubt, and to the +ancient eastern lands. But it was the vessels going to or coming from +the strange mysterious north—the land of everlasting snow, where the +reindeer and, farther north still, the white bear have their home, and +where the winter is one long, long night—it was somehow the thought of +the north that had the most fascination for the little girl who was +sitting alone in the dull parlour behind the shop this late November +evening. And among the queer outlandish-looking sailors who from time to +time were to be seen on the wharf or about the Seacove streets, now and +then looking in to buy a sheet of paper and an envelope in her father's +shop, it was the English ones belonging to the whalers or to the herring +smacks bound for the north who interested Celestina by far the most.</p> + +<p>This evening she was not thinking of sailors or ships or anything like +that; her mind was full of her own small affairs. She had got two new +dolls, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span>quite tiny ones—Celestina did not care for big dolls—and long +as the daylight lasted she had been perfectly happy dressing them. But +the daylight was gone now—it was always rather in a hurry to say +good-night to the back parlour—and the gas was too dim for her to see +clearly by, even if she had had anything else to do, which she had not, +till mother could give her a scrap or two for the second dolly's frock. +It was mother she was longing for. She wanted to show her the hats and +cloaks she had made out of some tiny bits for both the dollies—the +cloaks, that is to say, for the hats were crochet-work, crocheted in +pink cotton. Celestina's little fingers were very clever at crochet.</p> + +<p>'Oh, mother, mother,' she said half aloud, '<i>do</i> come.'</p> + +<p>She had drawn back the little green baize curtain which hung before the +small window between the shop and the parlour, and was peering in, her +nose flattened against the glass. She was allowed to do this, but she +was not allowed to run out and in of the shop without leave, and at this +time of the day, or evening, even when there were few customers, she +knew that her father and mother were generally busy. There were late +parcels to put up for the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>little errand-boy to leave on his way home; +there was the shop to tidy, and always a good many entries to make in +the big ledger. Very often there were letters to write and send off, +ordering supplies needed for the shop, or books not in stock, which some +customer had asked for.</p> + +<p>It was a bookseller's and stationer's shop; the only one worthy of the +name at Seacove. And Mr. Fairchild did a pretty good business, though +certainly, as far as the actual <i>book</i> part of it was concerned, people +read and bought far fewer books thirty years ago than now. And books +were much dearer. People wrote fewer letters too; paper and envelopes +were dearer also. Still, one way and another it was not a bad business +of its kind in a modest way, though strict economy and care were +required to make a livelihood out of it. And some things had made this +more difficult than would otherwise have been the case. Delicate health +perhaps most of all. Mr. Fairchild was not very strong, and little +Celestina had been fragile enough as a baby and a tiny girl, though now +she was growing stronger. No wonder that a great share of both work and +care fell on Celestina's mother, and this the little girl already +understood, and tried always to remember.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + +<p>But it was dull and lonely sometimes. She had few companions, and for +some months past she had not gone to school, as a rather serious illness +had made her unable to go out in bad weather. She did not mind this +much; she liked to do lessons by herself, for father or mother to +correct when they had time, and there was no child at school she cared +for particularly. Still poor Celestina was pining for companionship +without knowing it. Perhaps, though mother said little, she understood +more about it than appeared.</p> + +<p>And 'Oh, mother, mother, <i>do</i> come,' the child repeated, as she peered +through the glass.</p> + +<p>There were one or two customers in the shop still. One of them Celestina +knew by sight. It was Mr. Redding, the organist of the church. He was +choosing some music-paper, and talking as he did so, but the pair of +ears behind the window could not hear what he said, though by his manner +it seemed something not only of interest to himself but to his hearers +also.</p> + +<p>'I wish I could hear what he's saying,' thought the little maiden, 'or +most of all, I <i>wish</i> he'd go and that other man too—oh, he's going, +but Mr. Redding is asking for something else now! Oh, if only mother +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>would come, or if I might turn on the gas higher. I think it would be +nicer to have candles, like Fanny Wells has in her house. Gas is only +nice when it's very high turned on, and mother says it costs such a lot +then. I <i>do</i> so want to show mother the cloaks and hats.'</p> + +<p>She turned back at last, wearied of waiting and watching. The fire was +burning brightly, that was some comfort, and Celestina sat down on the +rug in front of it, propping her two little dolls against the fender.</p> + +<p>'To-morrow,' she said to herself, 'as soon as I've made a frock for +Eleanor, I'll have a tea-party. Eleanor and Amy shall be new friends +coming to tea for the first time—if <i>only</i> the parlour chairs weren't +too big for the table!' she sighed deeply. 'They can't look nice and +<i>real</i>, when they're so high up that their legs won't go underneath. +People don't make our tables and chairs like that—I don't see why they +can't make doll-house ones properly. Now, if I was a carpenter I'd make +a doll-house just like a real house—I could make it so nice.'</p> + +<p>She began building doll-houses—her favourite castles in the air—in +imagination. But now and then she wanted another opinion, there were +knotty <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>points to decide. As 'all roads,' according to the old proverb, +'lead to Rome,' so all Celestina's meditations ended in the old cry, 'If +only mother would come.'</p> + +<p>The door opened at last—gently, so gently that the little girl knew it +could be no one else but mother. She sprang up.</p> + +<p>'Oh, mother, I am so glad you've come. I've been so tired waiting. I do +so want to show you the cloaks and hats, and <i>can</i> you give me a bit to +make Amy's frock? She looks so funny with a cloak and hat and no frock.'</p> + +<p>'I will try to find you a scrap of something when I go upstairs,' mother +replied. 'But just now I must see about getting tea ready. Father is +tired already, and he has a good deal to do this evening still. Yes, you +have made the cloaks very nice, and the little hats too. I'll turn up +the gas so as to see better.'</p> + +<p>Celestina gave in without a murmur to waiting till after tea for the +piece of stuff she longed for so ardently, and she set to work in a +neat, handy way to help her mother with the tea-table. They understood +each other perfectly, these two, though few words of endearment passed +between them, and caresses were rare. People were somewhat colder <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>in +manner at that time than nowadays perhaps; much petting of children was +not thought good for them, and especially in the case of an only child, +parents had great fear of 'spoiling.' But no one who looked at Mrs. +Fairchild's sweet face as her eyes rested lovingly on her little girl +could have doubted for a moment her intense affection. She had a very +sweet face; Celestina thought there never could be anybody prettier than +mother, and I don't know that she was far wrong. If she ever thought of +herself at all—of her looks especially—it was to hope that some day +she might grow up to be 'like mother.'</p> + +<p>Tea was ready—neatly arranged on the table, though all was of the +plainest, a little carefully-made toast to tempt father's uncertain +appetite the only approach to luxury—when Mr. Fairchild came in and sat +down in the one arm-chair rather wearily. He was a tall thin man, and he +stooped a good deal. He had a kindly though rather nervous and careworn +face and bright intelligent eyes.</p> + +<p>'Redding is full of news as usual,' he said, as Mrs. Fairchild handed +him his tea. 'He is a good-natured man, but I wish he wouldn't talk +quite so much.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<p>'He had some excuse for talking this evening,' said Celestina's mother; +'it is news of importance for every one at Seacove, and of course it +must affect Mr. Redding a good deal. I shall be glad if the new +clergyman is more hearty about improving the music.'</p> + +<p>Celestina so far had heard without taking in the drift of the +conversation, but at the last words she pricked up her ears.</p> + +<p>'Is there going to be a new clergyman—is old Dr. Bunton going away, +mother?' she asked eagerly, though the moment after she reddened +slightly, not at all sure that she was not going to be told that 'little +girls should not ask questions.' But both Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were +interested in the subject—I think for once they forgot that Celestina +was only 'a little girl.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' the mother replied; 'he is giving up at last. That has been known +for some weeks, but it is only to-day that it has been known who is to +succeed him. Mr. Vane, that is the name, is it not?' she added, turning +to her husband.</p> + +<p>'The Reverend Bernard Vane, at present vicar of St. Cyprian's, somewhere +in the west end of London—that is Redding's description of him,' Mr. +Fairchild <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span>replied. 'I don't know how a fashionable London clergyman +will settle down at Seacove, nor what his reasons are for coming here, +I'm sure. I hope the change will be for good.'</p> + +<p>But his tone showed that he was not at all certain that it would prove +so.</p> + +<p>'Is he married?' asked Celestina's mother. 'Oh yes, by the bye, I +remember Mr. Redding spoke of children, but old Captain Deal came in +just as he was telling more and I could not hear the rest.'</p> + +<p>'There are several children and Mrs. Vane a youngish lady still, he +said. The old Rectory will want some overhauling before they come to it, +I should say,' remarked Mr. Fairchild. 'It must be nigh upon forty years +since Dr. Bunton came there, and there's not much been done in the way +of repairs, save a little whitewashing now and then. The doctor and Mrs. +Bunton haven't needed much just by themselves—but a family's different; +they'll be needing nurseries and schoolrooms and what not, especially if +they have been used to grand London ways.'</p> + +<p>Celestina had been turning her bright brown eyes from one parent to +another in turn as they spoke.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Is London much grander than Seacove?' she asked. 'I thought the Rectory +was such a fine house.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild smiled.</p> + +<p>'It might be made very nice. There's plenty of room any way. And many +clergymen's families are very simple and homely.'</p> + +<p>'I wonder if there are any little girls,' said Celestina. 'And do you +think they'll go to Miss Peters's to school, mother?'</p> + +<p>Her father turned on her rather sharply.</p> + +<p>'Dear me, no, child. Of course not,' he said. 'Miss Peters's is well +enough for plain Seacove folk, but don't you be getting any nonsense in +your head of setting up to be the same as ladies' children. Mrs. Vane +comes of a high family, I hear; there will be a French ma'amselle of a +governess as like as not.'</p> + +<p>Celestina looked at her father with a world of puzzle in her eyes, her +little pale face with a red spot of excitement on each cheek. But she +was not the least hurt by her father's words. She simply did not +understand them: what are called 'class distinctions' were quite unknown +to her innocent mind. Had she been alone with her mother she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>might have +asked for some explanation, but she was too much in awe of her father to +question him.</p> + +<p>Her mother turned to her somewhat abruptly.</p> + +<p>'I want some more water; the kettle, Celestina love,' she said; and as +the little girl brought it, 'I will explain to you afterwards, but don't +say any more. Father is tired,' she whispered.</p> + +<p>And Celestina quickly forgot all about it; the sight of Eleanor and Amy +still reposing on the hearthrug as she replaced the kettle drove out of +her mind all thoughts of the possible little Misses Vane.</p> + +<p>After tea, when the things were cleared away and Celestina had helped +her mother to make the room look neat and comfortable again, for the +little servant in the kitchen was seldom seen in the parlour, as she +fidgeted Mr. Fairchild by her awkward clattering ways, Mrs. Fairchild +went upstairs to fetch some sewing that needed seeing to.</p> + +<p>'I will look for a scrap or two for you,' she said to Celestina as she +went. 'But I'm not sure that you should sew any more to-night. It's +trying for your eyes.'</p> + +<p>'And what about your sums, child?' said her father. 'Have you done all I +set you?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Yes, father, and I've read the chapter of <i>Little Arthur's History</i> +too,' Celestina replied.</p> + +<p>'Well, then,' said Mr. Fairchild, drawing his chair nearer to the table +again—he had pushed it close to the fire—'bring your slate and your +books. I'll correct the sums and set you some more, and then we'll have +a little history. I will question you first on the chapter you have read +to yourself.'</p> + +<p>Celestina could not help an appealing glance at her mother—she had the +two little dolls in her hand, poor Amy still looking very deplorable in +her skirt-less condition. Mrs. Fairchild understood her though no word +was spoken.</p> + +<p>'I thought you were going back to write in the shop,' she said gently to +her husband. 'The stove is still hot.'</p> + +<p>'I am too tired,' he replied, and indeed he looked so. 'There is nothing +so very pressing, and it's too late for the London post. No—I would +rather take Celly's lessons; it will be a change.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild said no more, nor did Celestina—father's word was law. +The little girl did not even look cross or doleful, though she gave a +tiny sigh as she fetched her books. She was a docile pupil, thoughtful +and attentive, though not peculiarly quick, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>and Mr. Fairchild, in spite +of his rather nervously irritable temper, was an earnest and intelligent +teacher. The sums were fairly correct and the multiplication table was +repeated faultlessly. But when it came to the history Celestina was less +ready and accurate in her replies.</p> + +<p>'My dear,' said her mother, who had sat down beside them with her sewing +by this time, 'you are not giving your full attention. I can see you are +thinking of something else. If it is anything you do not understand ask +father to explain it.'</p> + +<p>'Certainly,' Mr. Fairchild agreed. 'There is nothing worse than giving +half attention. What are you thinking about, child?'</p> + +<p>Celestina looked up timidly.</p> + +<p>'It wasn't anything in the lesson—at least not exactly,' she said. 'But +when father asked me who was the king of France then, it made me think +of what father said about a French ma'amselle, and I wondered what it +meant.'</p> + +<p>'Ma'amselle,' said her father, 'is only our English way of saying +"mademoiselle," which means a miss, a young lady.'</p> + +<p>'But those young ladies, the Rectory young ladies, aren't French,' +Celestina said.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Of course not. What I meant was that very likely they have a French +governess. It's the mode nowadays when every one wants to speak French +well.'</p> + +<p>'Oh,' said Celestina, 'I didn't understand. I'd like to hear somebody +speak French,' she added. 'Did you ever hear it, mother?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' Mrs. Fairchild replied. 'When I was a girl there was a French +lady came to live near us that I was very fond of; and she was very kind +to us. She sent me a beautiful present when I married. I called you +after her, you know, Celestina—I'm sure I've told you that before. Her +name was Célestine.'</p> + +<p>'I remember,' the little girl replied; 'but I forgot about her being +French. I would like to see her, mother.'</p> + +<p>'I do not know if she is still alive,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'She must be +an old lady by now, if so. She went back to France many years ago; she +was in England with her husband, who had some business here. They had no +children, and she was always asking mother to let her adopt me. But +though there were so many of us, mother couldn't make up her mind to +spare one.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Things would have turned out pretty different for you, Mary, if she +had. You'd have been married to a French "mounseer" by now,' and he +laughed a little, as if there was something exceedingly funny in the +idea. Mr. Fairchild did not often laugh.</p> + +<p>'Maybe,' his wife replied, smiling.</p> + +<p>'I do hope they'll have a French governess,' said Celestina.</p> + +<p>'Who? oh, the Miss Vanes,' said her father. 'Why, you <i>are</i> putting the +cart before the horse, child! We don't even know that the new clergyman +has any daughters—his family may be all boys. Besides, I don't know +when you'd be likely to see them or their governess either.'</p> + +<p>'They'd be sure to come to the shop sometimes, father,' Celestina +replied eagerly. 'Even old Mrs. Bunton does—I've often seen her. And +there's no other shop for books and stationery at Seacove.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Fairchild smiled at the pride with which she said this.</p> + +<p>'It would be a bad job for me if there were,' he said, 'for as it is +there's barely custom for a shop of the kind,' and an anxious look came +over his face.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> But Mrs. Fairchild reminded him that if they did not +finish the chapter of <i>Little Arthur</i> quickly, it would be Celestina's +bedtime, so the talk changed to the Black Prince and his exploits.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3>THOSE YOUNG LADIES</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Leave me alone"> +<tr><td align='left'>'Leave me alone—I want to cry;</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">It's no use trying to be good.'</span>—<span class="smcap">Anon.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Six weeks or so later—Christmas and New Year's day were past; it was +the middle of January by this time—a little group of children might +have been seen standing on the shore about half a mile from Seacove.</p> + +<p>Though midwinter, it was not very cold. There is a theory that it never +is very cold at the seaside. I cannot say that I have always found this +the case, but it was so at Seacove. It lay in a sheltered position, out +of the way of the east wind, and this was one reason why Mr. Vane had +decided to make it for a time the home of himself and his family.</p> + +<p>These were his children—the group on the sea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>shore. Rumour had +exaggerated a little in saying he had 'several.' There were but three of +them, and of these three two were girls. So Celestina Fairchild's +thoughts about them had some foundation after all.</p> + +<p>'It looks just a little, a very little dreary,' said the eldest of the +three, a girl of thirteen or so, slight and rather tall for her age, +with a pretty graceful figure and pretty delicate features; 'but then of +course it's the middle of winter. Not that spring or summer would make +much difference here; there are so very few trees.'</p> + +<p>She glanced round her as she spoke. It was a bare, almost +desolate-looking stretch of country, down to the sea, which was still +and gray-looking this morning. Yet there was a strange charm about it +too—the land, though by no means hilly, was undulating. Not far from +where the children stood there was a grand run of sand-hills, with +coarse, strong grass and a few hardy thistles, and, in its season, +bindweed with its white and pinky flowers, growing along their summit. +Farther off was a sort of skeleton-like erection, looking not unlike the +gaunt remains of a deserted sail-less ship: this was a landmark or +beacon, placed there to point out a sudden <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>turn in the coastline. And +out at sea, a mile or so distant, stood a lighthouse with a revolving +lantern; three times in each minute the bright light was to be seen as +soon as night fell. A kind of natural breakwater ran out in a straight +line to the lighthouse, so that in low tides—and the tides are +sometimes very low at Seacove—it was difficult to believe but that you +could get on foot all the way to the lighthouse rock.</p> + +<p>But all these interesting particulars were not as yet known to Mr. +Vane's children. They had arrived at Seacove Rectory only the night +before.</p> + +<p>The boy—he was next in age to his elder sister Rosalys—followed the +direction of her glance.</p> + +<p>'No,' he said, 'there's very few trees, certainly. But I think it's +going to be very jolly all the same. When I get my pony <i>I'll</i> be all +right any way; and on Saturdays, or odd half-holidays—there always are +odd half-holidays at every school, you know—I'll take you girls out a +drive in that funny little donkey-chaise, or whatever it is, that's +standing in the coach-house.'</p> + +<p>'I don't fancy there are many places to drive to,' Rosalys replied. +'Papa said there would be no use in having any sort of proper carriage. +The only <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>good road is the one to your school, Rough, and you'll have +enough of that morning and evening.'</p> + +<p>'Papa said Seacove was a—I can't remember the word—something +French—cool—cul——'</p> + +<p>'<i>Cul-de-sac</i>,' said Rosalys; 'leading to nowhere, that means.'</p> + +<p>'Except to the sea, I suppose,' added the little girl who had stumbled +at the French word. 'It would be nice to have a ship of our own instead +of a carriage. Don't you think we might ask papa to get us one?'</p> + +<p>'A <i>ship</i>, Biddy—I suppose you mean a boat,' said Rosalys, in a rather +'superior' tone. 'No; I don't fancy papa would trust us to go about in a +boat. Mamma would be frightened out of her wits about us.'</p> + +<p>'The sea looks <i>so</i> quiet,' said Bridget, gazing out at it. 'I don't +think it could ever be tossy and soapy here like it used to be at +Rockcliffe.'</p> + +<p>'Couldn't it just?' said Randolph. 'Wait a bit, Bride. It may look quiet +on a day like this, and inside the shelter of the bay, but I can tell +you there's jolly rough work outside there sometimes. I was talking to +an old sailor this morning when I ran out before breakfast.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I'd like to see a shipwreck—I mean,' as she caught sight of a shocked +expression on her sister's face—'I mean of course one that nobody would +be drowned in.'</p> + +<p>'But how could any one be sure of that? You should be more careful what +you say, Bride; you are so heedless.'</p> + +<p>Bridget's face puckered up. It was rather given to puckering up, funny +little face that it was. She was eight years old, short and rather +stout, with thick, dark hair and a freckled complexion. Her nose turned +up and her mouth was not small. But she was not ugly; she had merry gray +eyes and very white teeth. Somehow, thorough little English girl though +she was, she reminded one of the small Savoyard boys one sees with a box +of marmots slung in front of them, or a barrel organ and a monkey.</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean to say anything naughty, Alie,' she began, in a plaintive +tone. 'I'm always——'</p> + +<p>'Oh, come now, Biddy, stop that, do,' said her brother; 'don't spoil the +first morning by going off into a howl for nothing. No one supposes you +wanted to drown a lot of people for the sake of watching a shipwreck, +only, as Alie says, you should be more careful. Strangers might think +you a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>very queer little girl if they heard you say such a thing.'</p> + +<p>Bridget still looked melancholy, but she did not venture to complain any +more. She was a good deal in awe of Rough, who was twelve and a big boy +for his age. He had been at school for two years, and now he was going +as a day-scholar to a large and very excellent public school, which was +only about two miles from Seacove, quite in the country. Mr. Vane had +bought a pony for him to ride backwards and forwards, so Randolph was in +capital spirits. But he was not an unkind or selfish boy, and though his +pet name 'Rough' suited him sometimes as regarded his manners, his heart +was gentle. And indeed the name had been given to him at first on +account of his thick shaggy hair, as a very little boy.</p> + +<p>'It's rather cold standing about,' said Rosalys. 'Don't you think we'd +better walk on or take a run?'</p> + +<p>'Let's have a race,' said Rough. 'The sand's nice and firm about here. +I'll give you a good start, Alie, and Biddy can run on in front and wait +till we call to her that we're off.'</p> + +<p>Bridget trotted off as she was told, obediently. She did not care much +for running. Her legs were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>short and she was rather fat, but she did +not like to complain. She ran on, though slowly, till at last Randolph +shouted to her to stop. Then she stood still waiting till he called to +her again, for he and Rosalys took some time to settle how much of a +start Alie was to have—from where she stood, Biddy heard them talking +and measuring.</p> + +<p>'I wish they wouldn't run races,' thought the little girl. 'They're so +big compared with me—they've such much longer legs. I shan't like +Seacove if they're going always to run races. In London they couldn't in +the streets; it was only when we went in the gardens, and that wasn't +every day, it was too far to go. I wish I had a brother or a sister +littler than me; it's too much difference between Alie and me, thirteen +and eight. I wish——'</p> + +<p>But here came a whoop from behind.</p> + +<p>'Off, Biddy; look sharp—one, two, three.'</p> + +<p>Poor Biddy—off she set as fast as she <i>could</i> go, which is not saying +much. She puffed and panted, for she was not without a spirit of her own +and did not want to be overtaken <i>too</i> soon. And for a time Rough's +cries of encouragement, 'Gee-up, old woman,' 'Famous, Biddy,' 'You'll +win yet,' and so on, spurred her to fresh exertions. But not for long; +she felt her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>powers flagging, and as first Alie and then Rough, both +apparently as fresh as ever, passed her at full speed, she gave in.</p> + +<p>'It's no use. I can't run races. I wish you wouldn't make me,' she said, +as in a minute or two the two others came flying back again to where she +stood, a convenient goal for their return race.</p> + +<p>'But you ran splendidly for a bit,' said Randolph; 'and I'll tell you +what, Biddy, it would be a very good thing for you to run a good deal +more than you do. It'll make you grow and stop you getting too fat.'</p> + +<p>'I'm not fatter than you were when you were as little as me, Roughie. +Nurse says so—you were a regular roundabout till you had the measles; +mamma says so too,' replied Bridget philosophically.</p> + +<p>'I'm quite hot,' said Rosalys; 'fancy being hot in January! But we'd +better not stand still or we'll get a chill. Isn't it nice to come out +alone? I'd like to walk to Seacove—I want to see what it's like, but of +course we mustn't go so far. Mamma said we must stay on the shore.'</p> + +<p>'If it was summer we might dig and make sand-castles,' said Biddy +regretfully. Digging in the sand was an amusement much more to her taste +than running races.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I think that's stupid—it's such baby play,' Rosalys replied. 'But come +on, do. I'm going to climb up to the top of that bank—that's the +sand-hills papa was speaking about.'</p> + +<p>It was more tiring work than she had expected. Before they got to the +top of the bank Alie had decided that they would have done better to +remain where they were, on the smooth firm sand down below, but once at +the top she changed again. What fun can be more delightful than playing +in sand-hills, jumping from a miniature summit to the valley beneath +with no fear of hurting one's self even if one comes to grief and rolls +ignominiously as far as one can go! How helplessly one wades in the +shifting, unstable footing—tumbling over with a touch, like a house +built of cards! The children's laughter sounded merrily in the clear +cold air; Bridget plunged about like a little porpoise in the water, and +Rosalys quite forgot that she had attained the dignity of her teens.</p> + +<p>But a bell ringing suddenly some little way off caught their ears.</p> + +<p>'That's papa ringing,' said Randolph. 'He said he'd have the big +dinner-bell rung when it was time for me to go in. I'm going to walk to +the town or the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>village, or whatever it is, with him. Good-bye, +girls. It's only three o'clock—you can stay another half-hour,' and off +he ran.</p> + +<p>'Let's go down to the shore again,' said Alie. 'Mamma said <i>perhaps</i> +she'd come out a little, and she'd never see us up here.'</p> + +<p>Bridget hung back a little.</p> + +<p>'I daresay she won't come out,' she said. 'Do stay up here, Alie. If +mamma comes out she'll only talk to you and I'll be all alone. I don't +want her.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, Bride, that's not nice. I'm sure mamma likes to talk to you too, +only you see I'm older, and there's often things you wouldn't understand +about perhaps, and——'</p> + +<p>'I know—it's always the same. I'm too little to be any use. I know +you're older and sensibler, and I don't mean that mamma's not kind. But +families should be settled better—and—oh, Alie, I have so torn my +frock, and it's my afternoon one—my new merino.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 243px;"><a name="allie" id="allie"></a> +<img src="images/p27.png" width="243" height="392" alt="'—and—oh, Alie, I have so torn my frock, and its my afternoon one—my new merino.' P. 27." title="'—and—oh, Alie, I have so torn my frock, and its my afternoon one—my new merino.' P. 27." /> +</div> + +<p>Rosalys looked much concerned.</p> + +<p>'<i>What</i> a pity!' she exclaimed. 'I wish we hadn't played in the sand. +But really, Biddy, you are very unlucky. I've been jumping just as much +as you, and I've got no harm.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You never do—I don't know how it is that I always get torn,' said +Bride dolefully. 'And oh, Alie, there is mamma'—they were down on the +shore by this time, coming down being a much speedier affair than +climbing up,—'she will be so vexed, for I've got this frock new, extra +to yours, you know, because of the stain on the other the day I spilt my +tea all down it. I am so sorry, Alie. Could you pin it up?'</p> + +<p>Rosalys stooped to examine the damage. It was not <i>very</i> great, still +under the circumstances of its being a new frock, it was vexing enough.</p> + +<p>'You've got it so sandy, too—that makes it look worse,' said the elder +sister, giving the unlucky skirt a shake as she spoke.</p> + +<p>'I wish mamma hadn't come out,' said Bridget. 'Then I could have got it +brushed and mended before I told her, but perhaps it's best to tell at +once,' and she gave a little sigh.</p> + +<p>'Much best,' her sister agreed, and they went on to meet their mother. +Suddenly Bride gave a little cry of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>'Oh, Smut's with mamma,' she exclaimed. 'I'm so glad. You can walk with +mamma alone then, Alie, and Smut and I will come after you. I'm always +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>quite happy with Smuttie—I wish he was my very own.'</p> + +<p>It was rather unlucky that just as they got up to Mrs. Vane, Bridget was +so occupied in calling to Smut, who came careering forward to meet the +girls, that the dilapidated frock went quite out of her mind. At the +first moment her mother did not notice it.</p> + +<p>'Well, dears, here I am!' she began brightly. 'I got my letters finished +more quickly than I expected. What a quantity of things there are to +order when one first comes to a new house! And I do so miss M'Creagh! +Did you see me coming, Alie darling?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, mamma—not very far off though. We were up on the sand-hills when +papa rang for Rough, and——'</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Vane interrupted her.</p> + +<p>'Oh, Bridget,' she exclaimed in a tone of vexation, 'what have you been +doing to yourself? Do you see, Alie? Her skirt is torn from top to +bottom—the stuff torn, not the seam. And so dirty. Your new frock +too—really, child, you are too provoking.'</p> + +<p>Biddy's round rosy face grew longer and redder, and her eyes filled with +tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rosalys came before her.</p> + +<p>'It isn't so very bad, dear mamma,' she said <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>eagerly. 'I've been +looking at it. It looks worse because of the sand, but it isn't really +dirty; it will brush off. She rolled down one of the sand-hills. I'm +afraid it was my fault. It was my idea to play about there.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane glanced at Alie's own garments.</p> + +<p>'Your frock is none the worse,' she said. 'I do not see that Bride need +have hurt hers if she had been the least careful. But you are so +incorrigibly heedless, Bridget, and <i>so</i> thoughtless. Why, you were +dancing and jumping and calling to Smut when I met you as if there was +nothing the matter! I suppose you had forgotten all about your frock +already.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane's voice was rather sharp as she spoke thus to the little girl. +It sounded quite differently from the bright sweet tone in which she had +greeted them. And it did not seem to suit her to speak sharply. She was +very pretty and sweet-looking, and she seemed young to be tall Alie's +mother; indeed, people often said they looked more like sisters: stout, +sturdy little Bridget was quite unlike them both.</p> + +<p>Rosalys looked up at her mother anxiously. She could not bear her to be +troubled, and though she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>was sorry for Bridget, she was vexed with her +too. She slipped her arm inside Mrs. Vane's and drew her on.</p> + +<p>'It's too cold to stand still, mamma dear,' she said. 'Let us walk on to +that beautiful smooth piece of sand—it's rather stony just here. Biddy, +take care of Smut.'</p> + +<p>That meant, 'You may stay behind and keep out of the way a little.' +Biddy had no objection to do so.</p> + +<p>'Come, Smuttie, stay by me,' she said coaxingly to the little shaggy +black dog. Smut was very fond of Bridget, who had a very big heart for +all dumb animals. He wagged his tail and looked up in her face with +inquiring sympathy, for he saw quite well that Biddy was in trouble. +This was nothing new; many and many a time had the little girl buried +her tearful face in his rough coat and sobbed out her sorrows to him. +They were never very big sorrows really, but they were big to her, and +rendered bigger by the knowledge in her honest little heart that they +were generally and mostly, if not entirely, brought about by her own +fault.</p> + +<p>She could not stoop down to cry on Smut's back now; it would have risked +considerable more dirtying <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>of her poor frock. But she stayed some way +behind her mother and sister, so that she might talk without being +overheard by any one save her four-legged companion.</p> + +<p>'Smuttie,' she said, 'I'm very unhappy. This is only the second day at +Seacove and I've vexed mamma already. I made good resol—— never mind; +<i>you</i> know what I mean, Smut—to begin new here, and it's all gone. I +don't know what to do, Smuttie, I truly don't. Alie means to be kind, +but it's quite easy for her to be good, I think. And it's no good me +trying. It really isn't, so I think I'll just leave off and be +comfortable.'</p> + +<p>Smut looked up and wagged his tail. He was quite ready to agree with +anything Biddy proposed, so long as she spoke cheerfully and did not +cry.</p> + +<p>'Good little Smuttie, kind little Smut,' said the child; 'you're so nice +and understanding always.'</p> + +<p>But Smut seemed restless; he fidgeted about in front of Bride, first +running a step or two, then stopping to wag his tail and look back +appealingly at her in an insinuating doggy way of his own. Biddy +pretended not to know what he meant, but she could not long keep up this +feint.</p> + +<p>'I do know what you want,' she said at last with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>a sigh. 'It's a +scamper, and I hate running, and I'm sure you know I do. But I suppose I +must do it to please you. You won't roar after me like Rough, anyway.'</p> + +<p>And off she set, her short legs exerting themselves valiantly for +Smuttie's sake. He of course could have run much faster, but he was far +too much of a gentleman to do so, and he stayed beside her, contenting +himself every now and then by stopping short to look up at her, with a +quick cheery bark of satisfaction and encouragement.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3>A TRYING CHILD</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="I think words are live"> +<tr><td align='left'>'I think words are little live creatures,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">A species of mischievous elves.'</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 11em;"><i>Child Nature.</i></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Bride and Smuttie did not overtake Mrs. Vane and Rosalys, for they were +running towards the sea, whereas the others were walking straight along +the shore. But the dog's bark and the sound once or twice of the child's +voice speaking to him came clearly through the still winter air.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane stopped for a moment and looked after them. She and Alie had +been talking about Bridget as they walked.</p> + +<p>'There she is again,' said her mother, 'as merry and thoughtless as can +be. That is the worst of her, Alie, you can make no impression on her.'</p> + +<p>'I don't think it's quite that, mamma,' Rosalys replied, 'though I know +it often seems so. She was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>really very, very sorry about her frock. And +she's so young—she's not eight yet, mamma.'</p> + +<p>'You were quite different at eight,' answered Mrs. Vane. 'Just +think—that time I was so ill and papa was away. You were barely seven, +and what a thoughtful, careful little body you were! I shall never +forget waking up early one morning and seeing a little white figure +stealthily putting coal on the fire, which was nearly out; taking up the +lumps with its own little cold hands not to make a noise. My good little +Alie!' and she stroked the hand that lay on her arm fondly.</p> + +<p>Rosalys smiled up at her. She loved her mother to speak so to her, but +still her heart was sore for Biddy.</p> + +<p>'I believe—I <i>know</i> Biddy would be just as loving to you, mamma, if she +knew how,' she said. 'But it is true that she's very provoking. Perhaps +it would be different if she had brothers and sisters younger than +herself—then she'd <i>have</i> to feel herself big and—as if it mattered +what she did.'</p> + +<p>'Responsible, you mean,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Yes, that is the best +training. But we can't provide small brothers and sisters ready-made for +Biddy, and I am very well contented with the three I have got! It <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>might +be a good thing if she had some companions nearer her own age, but even +that has its difficulties. Just think of the scrapes she got into that +time I sent her to your aunt's for a fortnight! Why, she was sent home +in disgrace for—what was it for—I forget? Biddy's scrapes are so +many.'</p> + +<p>'For taking the two smallest children to bathe in the pond before +breakfast, wasn't it?' said Alie.</p> + +<p>'Oh yes—after having half killed their valuable Persian cat by feeding +it with cheese-cakes, or something of the kind,' added Mrs. Vane.</p> + +<p>But she could not help smiling a little. Alie had already seen that she +was softening; whenever mamma called Bridget 'Biddy,' she knew it was a +good sign.</p> + +<p>'There is one comfort,' said the elder sister, in her motherly way, +'Biddy has a <i>terribly</i> kind heart. She is never naughty out of—out of +<i>naughtiness</i>. But oh, mamma, let us wait a minute; the sunset is +beginning.'</p> + +<p>And so indeed it was. Over there—far out, over the western sea, the +cold, quiet, winter sea, the sun was growing red as he slowly sank, till +he seemed to kiss the ocean, which glowed, blushing, in return. It was +all red and gray to-night—red and gray only, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>though there were grandly +splendid sunsets at Seacove sometimes, when every shade and colour which +light can show to our eyes shone out as if a veil were drawn back from +the mysterious glory we may but glimpse at. But the red and gray were +very beautiful in their way, and the unusual stillness, broken only by +the soft monotonous lap, lap, of the wavelets as they rippled themselves +into nothing on the sand, seemed to suit the gentle tones of the sky. +And some way off, nearer the sea, seeming farther away than they really +were, as they stood right in the ruddy trail of light, were two little +figures, both looking black by contrast, though in point of fact only +one was so. They were Bridget and Smut, both apparently absorbed in +admiring the sunset.</p> + +<p>'Isn't it beautiful, Smuttie?' Biddy was saying. 'It's the sun going to +bed, you know, dear.'</p> + +<p>Smut wagged his tail.</p> + +<p>'It's so pretty,' she continued, 'that it makes me think I'd like to be +good. P'raps I'd better fix to try again after all—what do you think, +Smut?'</p> + +<p>Repeated and more energetic tail-wagging, accompanied this time by a +short sharp bark. Smut has <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>had enough of the sunset and standing still; +he wants to be off again. But Bride interprets his response in her own +way.</p> + +<p>'You think it would be better?—thank you, dear, for saying so. You are +so nice, Smut, for always understanding. Well, I will then, and I'll +begin by telling mamma I'm dreadfully sorry about my frock. Good-night, +sun—I wish I lived out in the lighthouse—one could see the sun right +down in the sea out there, I should think. I wonder if he stays in the +sea all night till he comes up at the other side in the morning? No—I +don't think he can though, for it says in my jography that it's sunshine +at the other side of the world when it's night here, so he can't stay in +the sea. I must ask Alie—p'raps it's not the same sun as in London.'</p> + +<p>She turned, followed by Smut, who, failing to persuade her to another +scamper, consoled himself by poking his nose into the sand in search of +unknown dainties which I fear were not to be found. The pair came up to +Mrs. Vane and Rosalys, who seemed to be waiting for them.</p> + +<p>'Mamma,' Biddy began, in a very contrite tone, 'I've been thinking and I +want to tell you I am truly and really very, <i>very</i> sorry about my +frock. I didn't <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>mean not to seem sorry. I can't think how it got torn, +for Alie didn't tear hers, and she was playing about just the same.'</p> + +<p>'I don't know either, Biddy,' said her mother. 'It is just the old +story, you must be more careful. Perhaps, to go back to the beginning, +it would have been better to change to an old frock if you meant to romp +about; <i>or</i>, it would have been better still perhaps, not to romp when +you knew you had a good frock on.'</p> + +<p>'That was my fault, mamma,' Alie put in.</p> + +<p>'Well, we must try and get the mischief repaired, and let us hope it +will be a reminder to you, Biddy, every time you wear this frock.'</p> + +<p>Bridget murmured something; she meant to be very good. But when she got +a little behind her mother and Alie again she gave herself a shake.</p> + +<p>'I shouldn't like that at all,' she thought. 'I should hate this frock +if it was always to remind me. I think mamma is rather like the mamma in +<i>Rosamund</i> when she speaks that way, and I'm like Rosamund on her day of +misfortunes, only all my days are days of misfortunes. But I do think +I'm nicer than she was.'</p> + +<p>As they reached the edge of the shore, where a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>gate opened into a +pathway through a field to the Rectory itself, Mrs. Vane stopped to look +across once more at the sunset.</p> + +<p>'Yes, he is just going—just. Look, children.'</p> + +<p>Alie turned too, but Biddy walked on.</p> + +<p>'I don't want to look again,' she said. 'I've said good-night to him +once.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane glanced at Rosalys.</p> + +<p>'What's the matter now?' her glance seemed to say.</p> + +<p>Rosalys smiled back.</p> + +<p>'It isn't naughtiness,' she whispered. 'It's only some fancy.'</p> + +<p>And so it was.</p> + +<p>'I said good-night to him when I'd fixed to try to be good,' Bride was +saying to herself, 'and if I look at him again now it'll undo the +fixing. Besides, I've begun to feel a little naughty again already—I +don't like Rosamund's mamma.'</p> + +<p>As they walked up the path, Smut, who was really Mrs. Vane's dog and had +got his own ideas as to etiquette, returned to his mistress's side and +trotted along gravely. He knew that his chances of scampers were over +for the day, for not even the most ardent runner could have crossed the +field at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>full speed without coming to grief. It was rough and stony, +and to call it a field was a figure of speech; the soil was nothing but +sand, and the grass was of the coarsest. But the Rectory stood on rather +rising ground, and old Dr. Bunton and his wife had fortunately been fond +of gardening. The lawn on the farther side of the house was very +respectable, and more flowers and shrubs had been coaxed to grow than +could have been expected. Still, to newcomers fresh from a comfortable +town-house—and there is no denying that as far as comfort goes a +town-house in winter has many advantages over a small country one—it +did look somewhat dreary and desolate. All the brightness had gone out +of the sky by now; it loomed blue-gray behind the chimneys, and a faint +murmuring as of wind in the distance getting up its forces began to be +heard.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane shivered a little.</p> + +<p>'I do hope your father and Randolph will be in soon,' she said. 'It may +be very mild here, but it strikes me as chilly all the same. I really +don't think it is wise to stay out so late, and it has been so almost +unnaturally still all day, I shouldn't wonder if it was setting in for +stormy weather.'</p> + +<p>Biddy's eyes sparkled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I would so like,' she was beginning, but she suddenly checked herself. +'Are there always shipwrecks when there's storms?' she asked.</p> + +<p>'I fear so,' her mother replied.</p> + +<p>'Then I mustn't like storms, I suppose,' said the child. 'It's very +tiresome—everything's made the wrong way.'</p> + +<p>'Bridget, take care what you're saying,' Mrs. Vane said almost sternly.</p> + +<p>Biddy's face did not pucker up, but a dark look came over it, taking +away all the pleasant brightness and the merry eagerness of the gray +eyes. She did not often look like that, fortunately, for it made her +almost ugly. And though her face cleared a little after a while, still +it was gloomy, like the darkening sky outside, when she followed Alie +downstairs to tea, after they had taken off their things and the torn +frock had been changed.</p> + +<p>Things had hardly got into their regular order yet at Seacove Rectory. +The Vanes had only been there three days, and every one knows that the +troubles of a removal, especially to a considerable distance, are very +much aggravated when it takes place in midwinter. It was not to be +wondered at that 'mamma' felt both tired and rather dispirited. She <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>was +a little homesick too, for mammas can feel homesick as well as both boys +and girls; and indeed I would not take upon myself to say that 'papas' +are quite above this weakness either. Christmas time had been spent at +Mrs. Vane's old home, a warm, cheery, old-fashioned country-house, where +grandpapa and grandmamma were still hale and hearty, and never so happy +as when surrounded by their grandchildren. This old home of mamma's was +within easy access of London too; no wonder, therefore, that the remote +seaside rectory seemed a kind of exile to Mrs. Vane, though the reasons +that had made Mr. Vane accept the offer of Seacove had been very +important ones.</p> + +<p>Rosalys, and Randolph too, though in a less thoughtful way, understood +all this, and both of the elder children were anxious to help and cheer +their parents to the best of their ability. And as all children love +change, and most children enjoy, for a time at least, the freedom and +independence of the country, it was much less trying for them than for +their father and mother. To Bridget the idea of coming to live +altogether at the seaside was one of unmixed pleasure. She dearly loved +the sea, and all she had hitherto known of it was in pleasant summer +weather, and at a bright amusing little place <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>called Rockcliffe. +Seacove was certainly not exactly what she had expected; still, +sand-hills and a great stretch of splendid shore were not to be +despised. I feel sure, however, that young as she was she would have +sympathised with her mother, and tried 'extra' hard not to vex her, had +she known more about it all. But very little had been explained to her; +indeed, Rosalys had been forbidden to say much about the reasons for the +change to her little sister. 'She is such a baby for her age, and so +heedless,' said Mrs. Vane. In treating Bride thus, I think her mother +made a mistake.</p> + +<p>The children's tea was laid out in the dining-room, for the schoolroom +was still in a chaotic state, and Miss Millet, the governess, was not +coming back for another week yet. And in the meantime mamma, and papa +too, sometimes had tea with the little girls and Randolph.</p> + +<p>The fire was burning brightly and the table looked inviting when Mrs. +Vane came downstairs. Alie had hurried down to see to it all; she knew +what a difference a little care makes sometimes—how a crumpled-looking +table-cloth or untidily placed dishes will add to low spirits when any +one is not feeling as bright and cheerful as usual. There were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>still +some of grandmamma's good things, which she had had packed in a hamper +for the first start at the new rectory—home-made cakes and honey and +fresh butter, the very sight of which made one hungry!</p> + +<p>Rosalys glanced at her mother, and was pleased to see that the sweet +face looked rather brighter and less anxious as she stood for a moment +at the fire warming her hands.</p> + +<p>'There is one comfort in this house, inconvenient though it is in many +ways,' said Mrs. Vane, 'the chimneys don't smoke. And close to the sea +as it is, one could scarcely have wondered if they had done so. If only +it really does your father as much good as the doctors said, I am sure I +shall get to like it.'</p> + +<p>'Yes indeed,' Alie agreed. 'Mamma dear, won't you sit down and let me +pour out your tea?'</p> + +<p>'The wind is really rising,' said Mrs. Vane. 'I wish they would come +in—papa and Rough. It would be such a pity if he caught cold,' she +added with a little sigh.</p> + +<p>Something in the tone and the sigh caught Biddy's attention. She was +sitting at the table more silent than usual, very much absorbed, in +fact, with her own grievances. What did mamma mean?</p> + +<p>'Is papa ill?' she asked abruptly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>Alie glanced at her, frowning slightly. Her mother turned quickly.</p> + +<p>'What a strange question to ask, Bride,' she said; 'it is just like +you—you cannot but know that papa is not at all strong.'</p> + +<p>Biddy looked puzzled. 'Strong' to her meant vaguely being able to lift +heavy weights, or things of that kind.</p> + +<p>'I didn't know he was <i>ill</i>,' she replied. 'I didn't know big people +were ill except for going to die, like our 'nother grandmamma. Papa's +had the measles and chicken-pox when he was little, hasn't he? I thought +it was only children that could be ill to get better like that.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane glanced at Rosalys in a sort of despair. But before Alie could +say anything to smooth matters, her mother called Bridget from her seat +and made her stand before her.</p> + +<p>'Bridget,' she said, 'I don't know what to say to you. Have you no heart +or feeling at all? How <i>can</i> you say such things. I do not believe in +your not understanding; you can understand when you choose, and you are +nearly eight years old. You must know how miserably anxious I have been +and still am about your father; you <i>must</i> know it is for his <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>health we +have come to this strange, dreary place, away from every one we care +for, and you can talk in that cold-hearted, cold-blooded way about dying +and not getting better and—and——' Mrs. Vane's voice trembled and +quivered. She seemed almost as if she were going to cry. Alie came and +stood beside her, gently putting her arm round her mother and looking +daggers at Bride. Mamma was nervous and over-tired, she knew; she had +had so much to go through lately. How could Biddy be so naughty and +unfeeling? And yet, as the words passed through her mind, Rosalys +hesitated. Biddy was not really unfeeling—it was not the word for her. +It was more as if she would not take the trouble to feel or to +understand anything that was not her own special concern; there was a +queer kind of laziness about her, which led to selfishness. It was as if +her mind and heart were asleep sometimes.</p> + +<p>But she could feel. Her face was all puckered up now; there was no +temper or sullenness about it, but real pale-faced distress.</p> + +<p>'Mamma,' she said brokenly, 'I didn't, oh, truly, I didn't mean it that +way. I know papa isn't old enough to die; but I thought he was too big +to be ill like that.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Biddy,' said Alie sternly, 'you are talking nonsense again. You know +big people are ill often, and sometimes they get better and sometimes +they die. Don't you remember Mrs. Hay—Meta Hay's mamma? She was ill +and——'</p> + +<p>'Yes, I quite forgot,' exclaimed Biddy eagerly; 'I didn't think. Yes, +Meta's mamma was very ill, and she died. I wish I'd remembered; and she +wasn't at all old like Grandmamma Vane.'</p> + +<p>She spoke almost cheerfully. Again Mrs. Vane glanced at her elder +daughter.</p> + +<p>'It's no use,' she was beginning, but Alie interrupted. How she wished +the unfortunate Mrs. Hay had not been the first instance to occur to +her!</p> + +<p>'<i>Children</i> get ill and die too sometimes,' Alie went on, 'and big +people very often get better. There was Captain Leonard next door to us +at home——'</p> + +<p>'And—I know—the boy-that-brought-the-potatoes' papa,' cried Biddy. 'I +<i>am</i> so glad I thought of him. I was in the kitchen one morning fetching +sand for Tweetums's cage and he came in, and cook asked how was his +papa, and he said, "Finely better, I thank ye, mum." I think cook said +he was a <i>Hirish</i> boy,' Bridget hurried on in her excitement—and when +she was excited I am afraid her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> 'h's' were apt to suffer—Mrs. Vane +gasped! 'I am <i>so</i> glad I thought of him. Papa will get better like the +potato boy's father. I'll say it in my prayers. Dear mamma, I won't +forget. And I <i>will</i> try to be good and not tear my frocks nor speak +without thinking.'</p> + +<p>The tears were coming now, but Biddy knew mamma did not like her to +begin to cry, and truly it was no wonder, for once she began it was by +no means easy to say when she would leave off! She choked them down as +well as she could. And the little face, hot and flushed now, was timidly +raised to her mother's for a kiss of forgiveness.</p> + +<p>It was not refused, but a sigh accompanied it, which went to the child's +heart. But there was no time for more, as at that moment the hall door +was heard to open and Mr. Vane's and Rough's voices sounded outside.</p> + +<p>Quite subdued, desperately penitent, Bridget went back to her place. Her +head was full as well as her heart. She had so many things to think over +that she felt as if she could not eat. First and foremost was the +strange newly awakened anxiety about her father. She looked at him as he +came in as she had never looked at him before, almost expecting to see +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>some great and appalling change in his appearance. But no—he seemed +much as usual—his face was indeed reddened a little by his brisk walk +in the chill air, and his voice was as cheery as ever. Biddy gave a +loud, most audible sigh of relief. Mr. Vane started and interrupted +himself in the middle of a lively account of the adventures he and +Randolph had met with in their walk.</p> + +<p>'My dear Biddy,' he said. 'What <i>can</i> you have to sigh about in that +appalling way?'</p> + +<p>Bridget opened her mouth as if to speak, but Rosalys, trembling as to +what she might not be going to say, interrupted.</p> + +<p>'Please, papa, don't ask her just now,' she said; 'do go on telling us +about what sort of a place Seacove is,' and she added in a whisper, as +she gave a little private tug to his sleeve, 'Biddy's been +rather—tiresome, and if she begins to cry——'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3>BIDDY HAS SOME NEW THOUGHTS</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="O, children"> +<tr><td align='left'>'O, children take long to grow.'</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">J</span><span class="smcap">ean Ingelow.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Mr. Vane nodded in token of comprehending Alie's hint.</p> + +<p>'You must walk to Seacove to-morrow and see it for yourselves,' he said.</p> + +<p>'That is to say if it is fine,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Doesn't it look stormy +to-night?'</p> + +<p>'The wind is getting up, but that one must expect at this time of the +year, and a good blow now and then won't hurt the girls. I feel ever so +much the better for the touch of it we had this afternoon. I'm certain +it is a very healthy place.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane smiled a little.</p> + +<p>'I have noticed that that is generally said of places that have nothing +else to recommend them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> But no,' she went on, 'I must not begin by +finding fault. If it proves to us a health-giving place I certainly +shall like it, whatever else it is or is not. Did you go into the church +this afternoon?'</p> + +<p>'Just for a moment. Rough wanted to glance at it,' Mr. Vane replied, his +tone sounding rather less cheerful.</p> + +<p>'It looked very dingy and dismal,' Randolph said. 'It's all high pews +and high-up windows, you know, mamma. Papa says it must have been built +at the very ugliest time for churches, before they began to improve at +all.'</p> + +<p>'And there is nothing to be done to it,' said Mr. Vane. 'Even if we +could attempt it and had the money, there would be endless difficulties +in the way of prejudice and old associations to overcome.'</p> + +<p>'And it is not as if we were really settled here,' said the children's +mother. 'You must not take the church to heart, Bernard; you could +scarcely expect anything better in a place like this.'</p> + +<p>'No—it will be slow work to bring about any improvement in outlying +places of this kind certainly,' Mr. Vane agreed. Then he brightened up a +little. 'There is a very good organ, and I met the organist. He seems +very hearty and eager.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<p>'That's a good thing. How did you come across him?' asked Mrs. Vane.</p> + +<p>'We went to the stationer's to order the newspapers. I might of course +have had them straight from town, but I think it is right to get what +one can in the place, and it helps me to get to know the people a +little. The organist—Redding is his name—was in the shop; I fancy he's +a bit of a gossip, for he looked rather guilty when we went in, just as +if they had been talking about us, and then he introduced himself. He's +coming up to have a talk with me to-morrow.'</p> + +<p>'It is quite a nice shop,' said Randolph. 'I expect it has some of the +College custom. I saw some books with the College crest on lying about. +You can get painting things there, Alie,' he added.</p> + +<p>Rosalys looked interested, and Biddy's face grew some degrees less long.</p> + +<p>'Is there a toy-shop?' she asked.</p> + +<p>'There's better than a toy-shop—a wonderful sort of place they call a +bazaar,' Rough replied. 'You may walk all round and look at the things +without having to buy, and there's one part where all the toys are only +a penny.'</p> + +<p>Biddy clasped her hands in ecstasy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Oh, mamma,' she said, '<i>may</i> we go and see it to-morrow? Oh, I'm sure +Seacove is ever so much nicer than London!'</p> + +<p>Mr. Vane smiled.</p> + +<p>'How many pennies have you got to spend, Biddy?' he said.</p> + +<p>Biddy's face sobered again, and the corners of her mouth went down.</p> + +<p>'I've got two,' she said in a very meek voice, 'and there would have +been another to-morrow, that's Saturday, if—I—hadn't——'</p> + +<p>'What?' asked Mr. Vane.</p> + +<p>'Tore my frock,' said Biddy very slowly.</p> + +<p>'<i>Torn</i>, if you please,' said her father. 'Well, suppose mamma lets you +off as it's the first Saturday at Seacove, that will be threepence, and +suppose I give you three pennies more, that will be sixpence—with +sixpence you could make important purchases at the penny counter, could +she not, Rough?'</p> + +<p>'Certainly, I should say,' Randolph replied.</p> + +<p>Bridget's face crimsoned with pleasure. She got up from her seat and ran +round to the arm-chair by the fire where Mr. Vane was quietly sipping +his tea, and at the imminent risk of throwing it all over him, flung her +arms round his neck.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Oh, thank you, papa, <i>dear</i> papa,' she said, 'dear, dear papa, and I do +<i>so</i> hope you'll be like the boy-that-brought-the-potatoes' papa, and +I'm going always to be good now, always.'</p> + +<p>Poor Mr. Vane disengaged himself and his tea-cup with some difficulty +from his little daughter's embraces. To his surprise, when he could +manage to see her face, there were tears in her eyes. He was touched but +at the same time rather apprehensive; it was ticklish work when Biddy's +floodgates were opened.</p> + +<p>'My poor little woman,' he said; 'yes, it's quite right to make good +resolutions. But, remember, Rome wasn't built in a day, Bride; you'll +have to keep up your courage and go on trying. But what's all that about +boys and potatoes?'</p> + +<p>Biddy grew red; she felt by instinct that she must not tell over all the +conversation; mamma would be vexed.</p> + +<p>'I only meant——' and she hesitated.</p> + +<p>'Biddy knew a little greengrocer boy in London who was very fond of his +father,' said Rosalys quickly.</p> + +<p>'Never mind about that just now,' Mrs. Vane added. 'I have several +things I want to ask you about your study. If you have finished your +tea, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>will you come in there with me? The work-people about here are +rather stupid, I'm afraid, Bernard. They don't the least understand +about the book-shelves.'</p> + +<p>'Don't worry yourself about it,' Mr. Vane replied. 'Things will get +straight by degrees. I'm afraid you have much more trouble now that +M'Creagh's gone.'</p> + +<p>M'Creagh was Mrs. Vane's 'old maid,' as the children called her. She had +been with her since Mrs. Vane's childhood, and had lately given up her +right to the title by getting married, to the great regret of everybody +except, I <i>fear</i>, Biddy. For M'Creagh had 'managed' the little girl in a +wonderful way; that is to say, she had kept her in order, and Biddy very +much preferred being left to her own devices.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane sat down on the low couch—one end of which was covered with +piles of books,—they were in the study by this time.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' she said, 'I miss M'Creagh, but my real trouble just now, +Bernard, is Biddy. I am afraid I don't take the right way with her, +somehow. She is so tiresomely heedless and provoking, and sometimes I +really wonder if she has any heart.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Vane looked up in surprise, in which there <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>was a little touch of +indignation, at this. Fresh from Bridget's loving hugs and the sight of +the tears in her eyes, he could hardly be expected to agree with this +opinion of her.</p> + +<p>'My dear,' he said, 'I think you are not fair upon her. I really can't +help saying so. The poor child is heedless and provoking to a degree, +but she is very affectionate.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane did not seem annoyed; she was, on the contrary, rather glad of +what Mr. Vane said.</p> + +<p>'Yes, she seems so sometimes, and I hope it is only her +childishness—but it is so impossible to make any lasting impression on +her. And I don't see how things are to improve with her. Rosalys was a +perfect little woman at her age. Bridget thinks of <i>nothing</i>—I have +seen it so much since we came here and during the bustle of the removal +from London. She lives like a complete baby—perhaps it is partly that +Alie is so unusually thoughtful and helpful, a real right-hand to me, +and Rough too for a boy is very sensible. So Biddy goes her own way, +nothing is expected of her, and she certainly fulfils the expectation,' +she wound up with a half smile.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vane sat silent.</p> + +<p>'She might be better with some companionship of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>her own age,' he said +in a few minutes. 'The give-and-take of even childish companionship is a +kind of training and discipline. As it is, she is almost like an only +child. Now, if Alie were away for a while, Bridget would have to try to +take her place.'</p> + +<p>'I could not do without Alie, not just now certainly,' said Mrs. Vane +decidedly. 'We must just hope that somehow time will improve Bridget.'</p> + +<p>'And don't be too hard on her,' said her father. 'I feel sure she means +well.'</p> + +<p>'When she means anything,' replied Mrs. Vane; 'but she seldom thinks +enough for that.'</p> + +<p>'I don't know about that,' said Mr. Vane doubtfully, 'still——'</p> + +<p>But then something in the arrangement of the book-shelves caught his +eye, and no more was said of Biddy for the time.</p> + +<p>Papa did not forget. Bridget got her fourpence the next day, a penny +from mamma and threepence from papa. And all troubles were thrown to the +winds, torn frocks and everything disagreeable forgotten, when she set +off with Rosalys and Randolph, under their maid's charge, for a visit to +Seacove, the wonderful bazaar being the real object of the walk.</p> + +<p>Only a very slight misgiving came over her as <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>papa stooped to kiss her +in the doorway; they met him on their way out.</p> + +<p>'Be a sensible little woman to-day, my Biddy,' he said, 'and don't get +into any scrapes to worry your mamma.'</p> + +<p>The child looked up into his face. Was it the yellowish morning light +from over the sea—for it was clear and bright though cold—that made +papa's face so pale? And yesterday he had looked so nice and rosy—Biddy +felt rather strange; for the first time in her little life there came +over her a faint, very faint shadow of <i>the</i> shadow which, as we grow +older, we learn cannot be avoided; the wings of the solemn angel seemed +for an instant to brush her softly. Biddy trembled without understanding +why.</p> + +<p>'Papa, dear papa,' she said, but somehow no other words would come.</p> + +<p>He kissed her again, and he smiled. It seemed to brighten up his face. +Bridget gave a sigh of relief: the potato boy's papa had got well, and +very likely he too looked pale sometimes. Still that strange breath of +feeling had left some result.</p> + +<p>'Alie,' she said, as she trotted down the garden path beside her sister, +the sixpence tightly clasped in her hand, 'is there anything I could get +for a present <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>for two of my pennies? I want to get some of the toys for +myself with papa's three pennies, and I want to get a thimble with one, +'cos I've lost mine, and my workbox is messy-looking.'</p> + +<p>'You can't get a proper one for a penny, not a silver one, and mamma +says imitation ones are bad to wear,' said Rosalys. 'I've got my first +thimble that's too small now—it's real silver. I'll give it you, and +that'll leave you threepence for your present. But who's it for?'</p> + +<p>'Three pennies won't do,' said Biddy. 'It must be two pennies, 'cos it's +for papa, and he gave me three pennies, and it would just be like giving +it him back again.'</p> + +<p>Rosalys and Randolph glanced at each other. They could scarcely believe +it was thoughtless Biddy speaking.</p> + +<p>'Yes, I quite understand,' said Alie. 'Let's see—what could you get for +papa? Can't you help us, Rough?'</p> + +<p>Rough considered deeply.</p> + +<p>'A purse—no, that would be too dear—or an inkstand?' he said.</p> + +<p>'I'm sure an inkstand would be far dearer,' said Alie sharply. 'You're +no good, Rough. I daresay we'll see something there, Biddy dear. I'll +not forget.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bride felt very pleased. She was in high favour with Rosalys, she could +see. She began jumping up and down the little grass-covered sandy +hillocks that bordered the road, scarcely more than a cart-track, across +the common between the Rectory and the little town.</p> + +<p>'There's a shorter way if we turn, a little farther on,' said Rough. 'We +can either get on to the road above the shore—it's a proper road—or +cut across a very sandy place, much sandier than the common.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Alie, 'I'd rather go along the road even if it's farther. +Walking on sand is so tiresome, and spoils one's boots so. Biddy, I +think you'd better walk quietly: remember what papa said, and you know +you are rather unlucky.'</p> + +<p>It was pleasant walking along the firm, hard road, and the fresh air was +exhilarating—the sunshine, thin and wintry though it was, gilded palely +the little shallow lakes and pools left by the outgoing tide along the +shore, for it was almost low water now. Even the bare stretches of sand +did not look ugly, as they sometimes do—a touch of sunshine makes all +the difference! And the even stony path—a sort of natural breakwater +running out towards the lighthouse—here and there caught a gleam or two +from the sky.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It looks quite different to last night,' said Alie. 'That's one thing I +like the seaside for; it's always changing.'</p> + +<p>'And the wind's gone down with the tide,' said Randolph, 'though it did +blow last night. There'll be rough weather before long, everybody says.'</p> + +<p>'I <i>would</i> so like to be in the lighthouse if there was a storm,' said +Biddy. 'That isn't naughty to wish, Alie, for the lighthouse is to keep +away shipwrecks. And if there just <i>was</i> one, you know, it <i>would</i> be +nice to be there to help the poor wet people, and carry them in to the +fire, and rub them dry with hot blankets, like in that story, you know.'</p> + +<p>'A lot you'd be able to carry,' said Rough contemptuously. 'Why, you're +so fat and roundabout, and your legs are so short you can scarcely carry +yourself.'</p> + +<p>'Rough,' began Rosalys warningly. And</p> + +<p>'<i>Alie</i>,' began Bridget at the same moment in her whining tone, 'do +listen to him.'</p> + +<p>But a peremptory 'Hush' from Randolph checked her. Both the girls looked +up. A short, rather stout, pleasant-faced man was at that moment +overtaking them.</p> + +<p>'Good-morning, sir,' he said as he passed, and 'Good-morning, Mr. +Redding,' returned Rough cour<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>teously, as the other lifted his hat. +Rough had very nice manners.</p> + +<p>'That is Redding, the organist,' said Rough. 'He's something else as +well—a tailor or a draper——'</p> + +<p>'"A butcher, a baker, or candlestick-maker,"' interrupted Rosalys +laughingly. She did not mean to make fun of good Mr. Redding, but she +wanted to make the others laugh too, to restore their good humour.</p> + +<p>'Well, something, any way,' Randolph went on. 'Papa says he's an awfully +good sort of man; he gives all his spare time to the organ for nothing.'</p> + +<p>'That's very nice,' said Alie approvingly.</p> + +<p>They were near the actual town of Seacove by this time—town or village, +it was difficult to say which, though the rows of tall masts a little +way off in the docks and the paved streets hardly seemed to suit the +idea of a village. And a few minutes more brought them to what was +ambitiously called the 'Parade,' where stood the long low bazaar, with a +large placard at the door announcing that 'entrance' was 'free.'</p> + +<p>In summer the bazaar blossomed out into twice its winter size, thanks to +a tentlike canvas front; at present it was a building of not very +imposing appearance. But it was long in proportion to its width, and one +or two gas-jets lighted up the innermost <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>end, even in the daytime. This +gave it a rather mysterious air, and added much to Biddy's admiration.</p> + +<p>'It's a <i>lovely</i> place,' she whispered to the others in an almost +awestruck tone. Rough felt much gratified; he considered the bazaar his +own 'find.' He set to work very graciously to do the honours of it, and +led the way slowly between the two sloping-upwards counters or tables at +each side, on which were arranged the more important and expensive +wares—china vases, glass, English and foreign, some of it really quaint +and uncommon, such as was not, in those days at least, to be often met +with in regular shops, workboxes and desks of various kinds; +papier-mâché writing-books, a few clocks; jewelry, a little real, a +great deal imitation, in glass-lidded cases; and so on. And down the +centre stood groups of walking-sticks, camp-stools, croquet-sets, and +such like.</p> + +<p>'Usefuller' things, as Biddy afterwards told her mother, were not +wanting either. Hair-brushes and combs, metal teapots, and lots of gaily +painted trays were among them. And some very magnificent dolls gazed +down with their bright unblinking eyes at the whole from a high +position, where they and the larger, more costly toys were placed.</p> + +<p>It was all very imposing, very breath-taking-away, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>and Biddy's eyes +were very eager and her mouth wide open as she trotted after Alie. For +London shops were not as magnificent forty years ago as they are now; +and, besides it was not often that the little Vanes had paid a visit to +Cremer's or the arcades, which are children's delight. And then it was +here so delightfully uncrowded and quiet. The shopwoman, knowing who +they were, felt not a little honoured by their prompt visit, and beyond +a civil 'Good-morning, young ladies,' left them free to stare about and +admire as they chose.</p> + +<p>But they did not linger long before the objects which they knew to be +quite beyond their reach. It was the penny counter for which they were +really bound, and to which Rough piloted them with an air of great +pride.</p> + +<p>'There, now,' he said, waving his hand like a show-man; 'what do you say +to that, girls? All these things—everything you can see as far as +here—for a penny!'</p> + +<p>Biddy gasped; even Alie was impressed.</p> + +<p>'They're really very nice, Biddy,' she said. 'And oh, look, what nice +dolls' furniture! What a pity, Biddy, you don't care for dolls!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3>CELESTINA</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Little china tea-things"> +<tr><td align='left'>'Little china tea-things and delightful dinner-sets;</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Trumpets, drums, and baby-horses; balls in coloured nets.'</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 14em;"><i>What the Toys do at Night.</i></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Just as she said these words Rosalys became conscious that some one else +was standing beside her. She looked round. A little girl, simply but +neatly dressed, had come into the bazaar, and had made her way +noiselessly up to where the Rectory children stood. She was a slight, +delicate-looking child, taller than Bridget, though not seemingly much +older. She had large, earnest, perhaps somewhat wistful, brown eyes, +which made her face attractive and interesting when you looked at it +closely, though at first sight it was too small and pale to catch one's +attention. She stood there quietly and very grave, her eyes fixed on +Alie Vane's lovely and sweet face, yet without the slightest shadow of +forwardness <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>or freedom in her gaze. An expression of great surprise, +mingled with a little pity, flitted across her when she heard the elder +girl's words—'What a pity, Biddy, you don't care for dolls!' and it was +with intense interest she listened to Bridget's reply.</p> + +<p>'I would care for them, Alie, if I had any one to play at them with me. +But you think you're too big—I think you've always thought yourself too +big—and Rough's a boy. So how could I care for dolls all alone?'</p> + +<p>Bride's voice had taken the peculiar little whine it always did when she +was at all put out. It was comical and yet a little irritating; but just +now neither Rosalys nor Randolph was inclined to be irritated. Alie only +laughed.</p> + +<p>'Well, I'm not forcing you to play with dolls, nor to buy them,' she +said. 'Only these little tiny chairs are so funny.'</p> + +<p>A voice behind her made her start. Yet it was a very soft, rather timid +little voice.</p> + +<p>'You can play much nicer with little dolls alone—a good many little +dolls—than with one or two big ones,' it said.</p> + +<p>Biddy turned round and stared at the small maiden. She did not mean to +be rude; she was only <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>surprised and curious; but her rosy cheeks and +round eyes looked much less sweet and gentle than Alie's pretty face and +soft long-lashed blue eyes, which had always a rather appealing +expression. Biddy opened her mouth but did not speak. The little +stranger grew very red. Rosalys spoke to her gently.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' she said, 'I should think little dolls would be much more amusing +to play with alone. You could make them act things, and you could make +houses for them. Biddy, wouldn't you like to furnish our old doll-house +fresh?'</p> + +<p>'I don't know,' said Biddy rather surlily. 'You'd call me a baby.'</p> + +<p>'Indeed I wouldn't,' said Alie eagerly. 'It would be such a nice play +for you. You might buy two or three of those sweet little chairs as a +beginning.'</p> + +<p>'They are particular nice,' put in the shopwoman. 'It isn't often +they're made so small, not so cheap. And what were you wanting this +morning, my dear?' she went on to the little newcomer.</p> + +<p>'If you please, I want two of them—of the chairs,' the child replied, +holding out two pennies. Her face was still rather red, but she glanced +with admiration mingled with gratitude at Rosalys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> + +<p>The shopwoman handed her the two little chairs, but she did not seem +quite satisfied.</p> + +<p>'Would you like to choose for yourself?' said the woman with a smile. +She seemed used to the ways and manners of small customers—of this +small customer especially, perhaps—and she made way for her as the +little girl, well pleased, came close to the counter. Then for a minute +or two the child stood absorbed, weighing the comparative merits of blue +and pink cotton chair seats, and of dark and light coloured wood. At +last, with a little sigh of mingled anxiety and satisfaction, she held +out two to the woman.</p> + +<p>'These, please,' she said; and, without waiting for her purchases to be +wrapped up, she turned, and with a glance at the other children, a +shadowy smile for half an instant wavering over her face, she quietly +made her way out of the shop.</p> + +<p>'Poor little girl,' said Rosalys. 'You quite frightened her when she +spoke, Bridget. Why did you glare at her so?'</p> + +<p>'I didn't glare at her; you're very unkind, Alie, to say so,' said +Biddy, in her complaining tone.</p> + +<p>'Oh, I say, Biddy, don't be so grumpy,' Randolph put in, 'and do fix +what you're going to buy. There's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>something over here that papa would +like, I know. A whistle, such a jolly strong one, and only two-pence. It +would do for him to call me in by, and much less trouble than ringing +that clumsy bell.'</p> + +<p>Biddy went off to look at the whistle. It was a very neat one, in the +shape of a dog's head, and she at once decided upon it, for she had +great faith in Rough's opinion as to what papa would like. Then ensued +another weighty consultation at the penny stall, where Alie had meantime +bought a pair of tiny dolls, which she meant to dress in secret as a +'surprise' for her little sister—'it would be so nice if she took to +dressing dolls for herself,' she thought—and a yard measure for +herself. Bridget's perplexities ended in the purchase of one of the neat +little chairs and a small table and a tiny china dog.</p> + +<p>'They'd be pretty as ornaments on my mantelpiece even if I never have a +doll-house,' she said. 'And if I did have the doll-house done up, it +<i>must</i> have a dog, to keep watch, you know, Alie.'</p> + +<p>At the entrance of the bazaar they ran against Mr. Redding. He looked +hot and hurried and was walking very fast, but at sight of them he +stopped suddenly, and then, came up to Randolph.</p> + +<p>'<i>Would</i> you excuse me, sir,' he began, 'if I were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>to ask you a great +favour? I have just been at the Rectory to see Mr. Vane and I am +hurrying off to Brewton by the next train, for unfortunately there is +something wrong with one of the organ stops and I must get a man to come +over at once. It would never do not to be able to use the organ properly +the first Sunday Mr. Vane is here. I find it later than I thought, and I +had undertaken to leave this note at Mr. Fairchild's in Pier Street for +the rector. You will pass there on your way home, unless you +particularly want to go by Sandy Common?'</p> + +<p>'Oh no,' said Rough, 'we don't mind. Of course I'll leave it for you, +Mr. Redding. Is there an answer?'</p> + +<p>But Mr. Redding, having thrust the note into the boy's hands, was +already some paces off. He called out some rather incoherent reply, of +which 'thank you, thank you,' were the only intelligible words.</p> + +<p>'What a fussy little man,' said Alie. 'But papa said he was proud of his +organ, and it would be horrid at church without it. Which is Pier +Street, Rough, do you know?'</p> + +<p>'Not a bit of it—nor which is Mr. Fairchild's shop, or if it is a shop. +He only said at Mr. Fairchild's,' replied Randolph. 'I suppose any one +can tell us however; it's not like London.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p> + +<p>The 'Parade' at its farther end turned into the docks. The children +walked on, tempted by the sight of the tall masts in front of them.</p> + +<p>'Wouldn't I like to see over some of those ships,' said Rough. Just then +a little group of sailors, looking little more than boys for the most +part, in spite of their bronzed and sunburnt skin, passed them, +chattering and whistling cheerily. They belonged to a vessel but newly +arrived from some southern port. One could see how happy they were to be +on English ground again—some of them maybe belonged to Seacove itself.</p> + +<p>'Would you like to be a sailor, Rough?' said Alie.</p> + +<p>Randolph hesitated.</p> + +<p>'No, I don't think so, but I like seeing ships and hearing about +voyages.'</p> + +<p>'<i>I'd</i> like to be a sailor,' said Bridget suddenly. Rosalys and her +brother could not help laughing.</p> + +<p>'What a funny sailor you'd make,' they said. And indeed it was not easy +to imagine her short, compact, roundabout figure climbing up masts and +darting about with the monkey-like swiftness of a smart little middy.</p> + +<p>'I don't think you'd like it for long, Miss Biddy,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> said Jane, the +young maid. 'I came once, in my last place, from Scotland by sea, and +though I wasn't at all ill, it was dreadful rough work. I was glad to +feel my feet on firm land again.'</p> + +<p>'Was it very stormy?' asked all the children together. 'And how long +were you in the ship? Oh, do tell us about it, Jane.'</p> + +<p>Jane's value rose immensely on the spot. She was not a particularly +lively girl generally, but this was quite a discovery.</p> + +<p>'Was it a very big ship?' asked Bridget, 'or quite a teeny-weeny one, +just big enough to hold all of us like?'</p> + +<p>'You stupid little goose,' said Rough. 'You mean a boat—a <i>ship</i> is +never as little as that.'</p> + +<p>'Boats and ships is all the same,' Biddy persisted; 'and I heard papa +say there was a Scotch boat to Seacove twice a week—there now, Rough.'</p> + +<p>'Oh well—but that's only a way of speaking. Papa didn't mean a real +boat—a little boat. Now, if we could go down those steps right among +all the ships I'd soon show you the difference.'</p> + +<p>'But we mustn't, Rough,' said Alie anxiously. 'Not without papa or +somebody big—any way we must ask leave first.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Well, I suppose it would hardly do for you girls,' Rough replied. 'But +of course papa would let <i>me</i> go. He and I walked all round the docks +last night, and we should have gone to the end of the pier if——'</p> + +<p>'Oh, that reminds me,' said Rosalys. 'Haven't we passed Pier Street? I +believe that must be it opposite. Yes, I see it put up. Now we must find +out Mr. Fairchild's. Can't you ask somebody, Rough?'</p> + +<p>Randolph, though he would not have confessed it, was a little shy of +accosting any of the few passers-by. Just because there were so few and +the place was so quiet, the children felt themselves rather +uncomfortably conspicuous, and they could not help noticing that here +and there the inhabitants came rather unnecessarily to their doors to +look at them as they passed. It was not done rudely, and indeed it was +only natural that the arrival of a new rector and his family at Seacove +should attract a good deal of attention, considering that old Dr. Bunton +and his wife had been fixtures there for more years than Mr. Vane +himself had been in the world.</p> + +<p>'Oh yes,' said Rough in an off-hand way, 'I can <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>ask any one. But we +may as well walk on a little and look about us. If it is a shop we'll +see the name.'</p> + +<p>Just then there came out of a shop in front of them—a baker's, I think +it was—a small figure which walked on slowly some paces before them.</p> + +<p>'That's the little girl of the dolls' chairs,' exclaimed Bridget. 'Shall +I run on and ask her? I don't mind.'</p> + +<p>'You never do,' said Alie, and indeed Biddy was most comfortably +untroubled with shyness.</p> + +<p>'Yes, run on and see if she knows where it is.'</p> + +<p>Off trotted Biddy, her precious purchases tightly clasped in her hands.</p> + +<p>'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the other child.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 248px;"><a name="little" id="little"></a> +<img src="images/p75.png" width="248" height="400" alt="'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the other child. P. 75" title="'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the other child. P. 75" /> +</div> + +<p>The little girl turned, and looked at Biddy full in the face with her +grave earnest eyes without speaking. And for half a moment Bridget did +feel something approaching to shyness, but it gave her a comfortable +fellow-feeling to see that the small stranger was also still carrying +the little chairs she had bought. They were not done up in paper like +Biddy's—she had not waited for that,—but she had covered them loosely +with a very clean, very diminu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>tive pocket-handkerchief, and Bridget saw +quite well what they were.</p> + +<p>'Please,' Biddy went on, slightly breathless—it did not take much to +put Biddy out of breath—'please can you tell us where Mr. Fairchild's +is in this street? Rough's got a letter for him, but we don't know if +it's a shop or only a house.'</p> + +<p>'Mr. Fairchild's,' repeated the little girl, 'he's my father; it's our +shop. I'll show it you,' and a faint pink flush of excitement came into +her pale face. These were the Rectory young ladies, she had been sure of +it when she saw them in the bazaar. Fancy—wouldn't mother be surprised +to see them coming in with her? And father, who had said she'd maybe +never see them. Was that the French ma'amselle with them?—and Celestina +glanced back at honest Jane Dodson, from 'grandmamma's' village, walking +along in her usual rather depressed fashion—if so, French ma'amselles +were very like English nurse-maids, thought her little observer.</p> + +<p>'How funny!' said Biddy, quite interested. And Celestina began to like +her better—she had been rather disappointed in Biddy at the bazaar. She +was not pretty, and Celestina, though she scarcely knew it, was very +much taken by beauty, and she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span>had been rather, almost a little rude—at +least Celestina knew that <i>she</i> would have been told she was rude had +she behaved as Bridget had done. But now she seemed so bright and +natural—'She is quite a little girl,' thought Celestina; 'and perhaps +if she's the youngest she's treated rather like a baby.' 'How <i>very</i> +funny!' Biddy repeated. 'I must run back and tell Alie and Rough. And +have you a doll-house, little girl, and will you show it me? I've bought +a chair too and a table. Perhaps if I saw your doll-house and +teeny-weeny dolls I'd get to like to play with them too. We have a—— +Oh, Alie,' as Alie, surprised at the length and apparent friendliness of +the conversation proceeding between the two children, hastened up. 'Oh, +Alie, <i>isn't</i> it funny? She's his little girl. The note's for her +house.'</p> + +<p>Rosalys turned her soft blue eyes full on Celestina.</p> + +<p>'How like an angel she is!' thought Celestina.</p> + +<p>'Who's?' said Alie. 'Do you mean Mr. Fairchild's? Why don't you explain +properly, Biddy?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, that's it,' said the stranger child. 'I'm Celestina Fairchild. +I'll show you the shop.'</p> + +<p>'Thank you,' said the elder girl. But Biddy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>would scarcely let her say +the two words. Her eyes were very open, looking rounder than ever.</p> + +<p>'<i>What</i> a funny name!' she exclaimed. Biddy's collection of adjectives +did not seem to be a very large one. 'Do say it again; oh, please do.'</p> + +<p>'Biddy, I think you are rather rude,' said Alie severely. 'You wouldn't +like any one to say your name was funny.'</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean——' began Bridget as usual, but Celestina quietly +interrupted.</p> + +<p>'I don't mind; she's only a little girl. Don't be vexed with her,' she +said to Alie with a sort of childish dignity that seemed to suit her. 'I +think my name <i>is</i> funny; mother called it me 'cos—, but p'raps we'd +better go on. I've been out a good while and mother might be wondering +what I was doing, and then if the letter for father matters much——'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Alie; 'you're quite right; we'd better be quick.'</p> + +<p>So the little party set off again up the street. Biddy and +Celestina—for now that Biddy's interest was awakened in the stranger +child she had no idea of giving her up to the others—in front; Rosalys +and her brother following; Jane Dodson, discreet and resigned, bringing +up the rear.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>They had not far to walk, but Bridget's tongue made the most of its +opportunities.</p> + +<p>'Have you got a doll-house, then?' she inquired of Celestina; and as the +little girl shook her head rather dolefully in reply, 'What do you get +furniture' (Biddy called it 'fenniture') 'for, then? Is it for +ornaments?'</p> + +<p>'No; I've got a room, though not a doll-house,' Celestina replied. 'It +once was a kitchen, but I played with it too much when I was little, and +the things got spoilt. So father did it up for me with new paper like a +parlour—a best parlour, you know. Not a parlour like you use every +day.'</p> + +<p>'I don't know what a parlour is,' said Biddy; 'we haven't got one at the +Rectory, and we hadn't one in London either. We've only got a +schoolroom, and a dining-room, and a droind-room, and a study for papa, +and——'</p> + +<p>'I forgot,' said Celestina. 'I remember mother told me that they don't +call them parlours in big houses. It's a drawing-room I mean; only the +dolls have their dinner in it, because I haven't got a dining-room. They +haven't any bedroom either; but I put them to bed in a very nice little +basket, with a handkerchief and cotton-wool. It's very comfortable.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Yes?' said Bridget, greatly interested, 'and what more? Tell me, +please. It sounds so nice.'</p> + +<p>'Sometimes,' Celestina went on—'sometimes I take them to the +country—on the table, you know—and then I build them a house with +books. It does very well if it's only a visit to the country, but it +wouldn't do for a always house, 'cos it has to be cleared away for +dinner.'</p> + +<p>Biddy's mouth and eyes were wide open.</p> + +<p>'We have dinner in the dining-room with papa and mamma,' she said; 'so +we don't need to clear away off the schoolroom table except for tea. +That's in London. I don't know where we're to have tea here, when Miss +Millet comes back. Don't you have dinner with your papa and mamma—when +they have luncheon, you know?'</p> + +<p>In her turn Celestina stared.</p> + +<p>'I don't know how you mean. We all have dinner in the parlour,' she +said, 'like—like everybody. But this is our shop,' she added, stopping +and turning so as to face the others. 'If you please, miss,' she went on +to Rosalys, 'this is father's shop. If you'll come in, he'll be there.'</p> + +<p>Not a little surprised was Mr. Fairchild to see his daughter showing the +way in to the three children, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>whom he rightly and at once guessed to be +the new rector's family. Celestina looked quite composed; though so very +quiet and silent a child, she was neither shy nor awkward. She was too +little taken up with herself to have the foolish ideas which make so +many children bashful and unready: it never entered her head that other +people were either thinking of or looking at her. So she was free to +notice what she could do and when she was wanted, and her simple kindly +little heart was always pleased to render others a service, however +small.</p> + +<p>'Father,' she said in her soft voice; 'it is young Master Vane and the +young ladies with a letter for you.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Fairchild came forward, out from behind the counter. He made a +little bow to Rosalys, who was the foremost of the group, and a little +smile brightened his thin face as his eyes rested on hers. Every one was +attracted by Alie, and her voice was particularly gentle as she spoke to +Mr. Fairchild, for the first thought that darted through her mind was, +'How very ill he looks, poor man—much worse than papa.'</p> + +<p>'It is a letter for you, Mr. Fairchild,' she said. 'Mr. Redding asked my +brother to give it to you. It is from pa—from Mr. Vane.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> + +<p>'But I don't know if there is any answer,' said Rough. 'Redding didn't +say. Please see, will you?'</p> + +<p>Rosalys and Randolph and Jane in the doorway stood waiting while he +read. But Biddy's eyes were hard at work. She caught Celestina as she +was disappearing through an inner door.</p> + +<p>'Oh, please,' she said, 'don't go away. Won't you show me your dolls? +And oh, please, what <i>is</i> that funny little window up there in the wall? +I would so like to look through it.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3>THE WINDOW IN THE WALL</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Will you step"> +<tr><td align='left'>'Will you step into my parlour?'</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 5.5em;"><i>The Spider and the Fly.</i></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Celestina hesitated. She was anxious to be friendly to Bridget, and she +had a strong instinct of hospitality, but the little girl rather took +away her breath. Just at that moment, luckily, the door between the shop +and the parlour—a door in the corner behind the counter—opened, just a +little, enough to admit Mrs. Fairchild, who came in quietly. She had +heard voices in the shop, and thought she was probably needed there, +though at this time of the morning, especially when Celestina was out, +she had to be sometimes in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>'Celestina,' she exclaimed, surprised and not quite sure if she should +be pleased, 'what are you doing? You should have come in at once. I have +been expecting you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then her eyes fell on the three—or four—three and a half, one might +say, to be very correct—strangers in the shop, for Jane was still +wavering on the doorstep, one foot on the pavement outside and one +inside.</p> + +<p>'Won't you come in?' said Mrs. Fairchild to her civilly; 'it is a cold +morning—and then I could shut the door.'</p> + +<p>Jane moved inwards, though without speaking, and Rough darted forward +and shut the door carefully.</p> + +<p>'Thank you, sir,' said Mrs. Fairchild, with a little smile that lighted +up her whole face. She gave a half unconscious glance at her +delicate-looking husband, which explained her anxiety. Bridget drew near +her and looked up in her face. Somehow since Mrs. Fairchild had come in +every one seemed more friendly and at ease.</p> + +<p>'Are you Ce—Cel—the little-girl-in-the-bazaar's mamma?' asked Biddy.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild smiled again.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' she said, touching Celestina on the shoulder, 'I am <i>her</i> mother. +Did you see her at the bazaar?'</p> + +<p>'She was buying chairs, and that made me buy one too,' replied Biddy +rather vaguely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> + +<p>'The young ladies met me after that in the street and asked me the way +here. I showed them. That was why I was in the shop,' explained +Celestina, on whose brow a little wrinkle of uneasiness had remained +till she could tell her mother the reason of her moment's lingering.</p> + +<p>'I see,' said Mrs. Fairchild, who would indeed have found it difficult +to believe that Celestina had been careless or disobedient; and at the +words Celestina's face recovered its usual quiet, thoughtful, but +peaceful expression.</p> + +<p>Bridget pressed up a little closer to Mrs. Fairchild.</p> + +<p>'You're not vexed with her then,' she said. 'She was quite good. I +thought at first you were going to be rather a cross mamma.'</p> + +<p>'<i>Bridget</i>,' said Rosalys, colouring, and in an awful tone. When Alie +said 'Bridget' like that it meant a great deal.</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean,' began Biddy as usual.</p> + +<p>Celestina's mother turned to Rosalys.</p> + +<p>'Please do not be vexed with her, miss,' she said, with again that +winning smile. And the smile that stole over Alie's face in response +made Mrs. Fairchild's gaze linger on the lovely child. 'No, my dear,' +she went on, speaking now to Biddy, 'it was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>quite right of Celestina to +show you the way; and I am glad you happened to meet her.'</p> + +<p>During this time, which was really only a minute or so, for it takes +much longer to relate a little scene of this kind than for it actually +to pass, Mr. Fairchild had been busy with the contents of the envelope +Randolph had given him. It contained, besides a note, a list of some +books which Mr. Vane wished to have sent as soon as possible. After +knitting his brows over this for some moments, the bookseller came +forward.</p> + +<p>'I find that Mr. Vane would like this order executed at once,' he said, +addressing Randolph.</p> + +<p>'I don't know, I'm sure,' said Rough; and indeed how was he to know, +seeing that the letter had only been given over to his charge by Mr. +Redding?</p> + +<p>Mr. Fairchild looked perplexed.</p> + +<p>'Oh,' he said, 'I thought that possibly you could have explained a +little more fully'—then he considered again. 'I think perhaps I could +send specimens of some of the hymn-books, and I can make out a list of +the prices, etc., so that Mr. Vane would have no trouble in selecting +what he requires. It will only take me a few minutes, and it would save +time if——' he hesitated. 'My errand-boy has gone some distance away +this morning.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>'If you mean that it'll save trouble for me to carry the parcel, I don't +mind,' said Rough in his boyish way.</p> + +<p>Mr. Fairchild thanked him.</p> + +<p>'I will see to it at once,' he said, and turning to his desk he began +writing down the details of some books which he took down from the +shelves behind.</p> + +<p>The four children, Mrs. Fairchild, and Jane Dodson stood together in the +middle of the shop; it was quite small, and with these six people it +seemed crowded. There was only one chair, pushed up in a corner by the +counter.</p> + +<p>'It is draughty near the door, even when it is shut. Will you not come +farther in, Miss Vane? or,' with a little hesitation, 'would you step +into the parlour—there is a nice fire—and sit down for a few minutes?' +said Mrs. Fairchild to Rosalys.</p> + +<p>Rosalys began to thank her, but before she had time to do more than +begin Bridget interrupted.</p> + +<p>'Oh yes, Alie, please do,' she said eagerly. 'I do so want to see what a +parlour's like. But, please,' she went on to Mrs. Fairchild, 'would you +first tell me what that dear little peep-hole window up in the wall is +for? I would so like to look through it.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> + +<p>Alie's face grew red again; she really felt ashamed of Biddy.</p> + +<p>'And it's worse,' she said to herself, 'to be so forward to people who +are not quite the same as us, though I'm sure Mrs. Fairchild is as nice +as any lady.'</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Fairchild confirmed this feeling of Alie's by coming again to +the rescue.</p> + +<p>'Certainly, my dear,' she said, smiling. 'You shall look through the +window from the other side. There's pretty sure to be a chair in front +of it, if you are not tall enough. My little girl is very fond of +looking through that funny window.'</p> + +<p>She led the way through another door—a door facing the street +entrance—into a very small passage, whence a narrow staircase ran up to +the first floor. The children could scarcely see where they were, for +the passage was dark, till Mrs. Fairchild opened another door leading +into the parlour, and even then it was not very light, for the parlour +window, as I think I said before, looked on to a little yard, and there +were the walls of other houses round this yard.</p> + +<p>It was a very neat, but to the children's eyes a rather dreary-looking +little room.</p> + +<p>Biddy turned to Celestina.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I think I like droind-rooms better than parlours,' she said, returning +to their conversation in the street, 'except for the sweet little +window,' and in another instant she had mounted the chair and was +peering through. 'Oh, it <i>is</i> nice,' she said. 'I can see Roughie'—for +Rough, had considered it more manly to stay in the shop—'and Mr.—your +papa, Celestina. It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show. I +wish we had one in our house. Alie, do look.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 246px;"><a name="lantern" id="lantern"></a> +<img src="images/front.png" width="246" height="400" alt="'It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show.' " title="'It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show.' " /> +</div> + +<p>Rosalys came forward, not so eager to take advantage of Biddy's obliging +offer as to seize the chance of giving her a little private admonition.</p> + +<p>'Biddy,' she whispered, 'I'm ashamed of you. I never knew you so free +and rude before.'</p> + +<p>Bridget descended dolefully from the chair.</p> + +<p>'I'm very sorry,' she said; 'please, ma'am,' and she turned to Mrs. +Fairchild, 'I didn't mean to be free and rude.'</p> + +<p>The babyishness of her round fat face, and her brown eyes looking quite +ready to cry, touched Mrs. Fairchild, though it is fair to add that she +approved of Alie's checking the child. She would have been perfectly +shocked if Celestina even when younger than Biddy had behaved to +strangers as the little visitor was doing. Children were kept much more +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>in the background forty years ago than now. On the whole I don't know +that it was altogether a bad thing for them, though in some cases it was +carried too far, much farther than you, dear children of to-day, would +find at all pleasant, or than I should like to see.</p> + +<p>'No, my dear, I am sure you did not mean any harm,' said Mrs. Fairchild. +'We all have to learn, but it is very nice for you to have a kind elder +sister to direct you.'</p> + +<p>Biddy did not seem at that moment very keenly to appreciate this +privilege.</p> + +<p>'I'd rather have a littler sister,' she said; but as she caught sight of +Celestina's astonished face, 'I don't mean for Alie to be away—Alie's +very kind—but I'd like a littler one too. It's very dull playing alone. +And oh, please,' as the word 'playing' recalled the bazaar and their +purchases, 'mayn't I see her dolls' house?' and she pointed to +Celestina.</p> + +<p>Rosalys sighed. Bridget was incorrigible.</p> + +<p>'It isn't a house,' said Celestina, 'it's only a room. May I get it, +mother? I do so want to see if the new chairs will do,' she went on, for +the first time disengaging the toys from her handkerchief. 'The others +are so big that when the dolls sit on them <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>their legs go all over the +top of the table instead of underneath.'</p> + +<p>'I know,' said Alie, 'that's how mine used to do when I was a little +girl and played with our doll-house. But mamma got some for me from +Germany all the proper size, on purpose. The doll-house was really very +pretty then.'</p> + +<p>Celestina looked up with eager eyes.</p> + +<p>'Oh, I would like to see it,' she said. 'It must be beautiful.'</p> + +<p>'No' said Rosalys, 'it isn't now. Some of the furniture's broken, and +nearly all the chair-seats need new covers. But it might be made very +nice with a little trouble, only you see Bridget has never cared to play +with it.'</p> + +<p>Biddy had drawn near and was standing listening.</p> + +<p>'I daresay I would care if I had anybody to play with me,' she said. +'You know you're too big, Alie. I wish Celestina could come and play +with me. Won't you let her, if mamma says she may?' she went on, turning +to Mrs. Fairchild.</p> + +<p>Celestina's eyes sparkled, but her mother looked rather grave.</p> + +<p>'My dear young lady,' she said to Biddy, 'you are rather too young to +plan things of that kind till you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>have talked about them to your mamma. +Besides Celestina almost never goes anywhere.'</p> + +<p>'I went to tea at Miss Bankes's once,' said Celestina. 'That's where I +used to go to school, but I didn't like it much—they played such noisy +games and they were all so smart. And once I went to Nelly Tasker's, and +that was nice, but they've left Seacove a long time ago.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild looked at Celestina in some surprise. It was seldom the +little girl was so communicative, especially to strangers. But then, as +she said to her husband afterwards—</p> + +<p>'Miss Vane is a very sweet girl, and the little one chatters as if she'd +known you for years. They certainly have a very friendly way with them: +I couldn't exactly wonder at Celestina.'</p> + +<p>'I'll ask mamma. You'll see if I don't,' said Biddy, nodding her head +with determination. 'And please, Celestina, do let me see your +doll-room, if that's what you call it?'</p> + +<p>'May I fetch it, mother?' asked the child. But at that moment Randolph +put his head in at the door.</p> + +<p>'We must be going,' he said. 'Come along, girls. I've got the parcel. +Thank you,' he added to Mrs. Fairchild, 'and good-morning.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> + +<p>Alie and Biddy turned to follow him. But first they shook hands with +Celestina and her mother.</p> + +<p>'I'm so sorry,' said Biddy, 'not to see the dolls' room. Wouldn't Rough +wait a minute, Alie?'</p> + +<p>'No,' the elder sister replied. 'We've been out a good while and there's +no reason for waiting now the parcel's ready.'</p> + +<p>'Well I'll come again. You'll let me, won't you?' said Bride, and not +content with shaking hands, she held up her round rosy mouth for a kiss.</p> + +<p>'Bless you, love,' kind Mrs. Fairchild could not resist saying, as she +stooped to her.</p> + +<p>'She is a very nice mamma, isn't she, Alie?' said Biddy with +satisfaction, when they found themselves out in the street again.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Rosalys. But she spoke rather absently. She was wondering +what made Bridget so nice sometimes, and sometimes so very tiresome and +heedless.</p> + +<p>'I wonder if it would have been better for her if she was more like that +little Celestina,' she thought. 'I'm sure they're very strict with her, +and yet I'm sure she's very fond of her mother and very obedient. But it +must be rather a dull life for a little girl, only she seems so womanly; +as if she really felt she was useful.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was almost dinner-time—their dinner-time, that is to say—when the +children reached the Rectory, and there was something of a scramble to +get hands washed, hair smoothed, and thick boots changed so as to be in +time and not keep papa and mamma waiting. Randolph came into the +dining-room, carrying the parcel of books.</p> + +<p>'Papa,' he said, 'these are the books you told Redding to order for +you—at least there are some of them, and if they are right, or if +you'll mark down which of them are not right, Fairchild the bookseller +will order what you want at once.'</p> + +<p>'I'll look at them immediately after luncheon,' Mr. Vane replied. 'But +how did they come into your hands, my boy? Has Redding been here again?'</p> + +<p>'No,' Rough explained, 'we met him,' and then he went on to tell the +history of the morning.</p> + +<p>'And she 'avited us—the little-girl-in-the-bazaar's mother, I mean,' +Biddy hastened to add, 'to step into the parlour. I never saw a parlour +before; it's not as nice as a droind-room, except for the dear little +window up in the wall. Couldn't we have a little window like that in our +schoolroom, mamma? And I'm to go another day to see the room; it's not a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>proper doll-house, she says; only a room, and I said I was sure I might +ask her to come here, but she said I must ask my mamma first. I thought +at first she was going to be rather a cross sort of a mamma, but I don't +think she is—do you, Alie?'</p> + +<p>Biddy ran off this long story so fast that Mrs. Vane could only stare at +her in amazement.</p> + +<p>'My dear Biddy!' she said at last. 'Alie, you were there? You don't mean +to say that you let Bride run into the toy-shop people's house and make +friends with their children, and—and——' Mrs. Vane stopped short, at a +loss for words.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vane looked up.</p> + +<p>'My dear child,' he said too, to Bridget, 'you must be careful. And +here—where everybody is sure to know who you are, and when you should +set a good example of nice manners—you must not behave in this wild +sort of way.'</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean,' began Biddy plaintively.</p> + +<p>But this time she was not chidden for her doleful tone—both Alie and +Rough came to the rescue.</p> + +<p>'Please, mamma, oh please, papa, you don't understand,' began Rosalys.</p> + +<p>'It wasn't the bazaar people at all,' said Rough, chiming in; 'it was +all right. Only, Biddy, you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>are really too stupid, the muddley way you +tell things——'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' agreed Alie, with natural vexation, 'you needn't make it seem as +if we had all gone out of our minds, really.'</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean,' started Biddy again, and still more lugubriously.</p> + +<p>'Stop, Bride,' said Mr. Vane authoritatively, laying down his knife and +fork as he spoke. 'Now, Rosalys, tell the whole story properly.'</p> + +<p>Alie did so, and as Randolph had already explained about meeting Mr. +Redding, it was not long before his father and mother understood the +real facts clearly.</p> + +<p>'We couldn't have refused to go into the parlour when Mrs. Fairchild +asked us like that—could we, mamma?' Rosalys wound up.</p> + +<p>'And she asked us to step in so nicely. And there were no chairs in the +shop, 'cept only one. And I did so want to see a parlour,' added Biddy, +reviving under Alie's support.</p> + +<p>'No, you did quite right,' said Mrs. Vane to the elder ones. 'But Biddy +must not begin making friends with every child she comes across and +inviting them to come here. You are not a baby now; you should have more +sense.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>The tears collected in Bridget's eyes; they were very obedient to her +summons, it must be allowed. Rosalys felt sorry for her.</p> + +<p>'Mamma,' she said, 'of course Biddy shouldn't invite anybody without +your leave first, but still this little Celestina isn't <i>at all</i> a +common child. She's so neat and quiet, and she speaks so nicely. And her +mother is <i>nearly</i> as pretty as you, not quite of course.'</p> + +<p>'She's awfully jolly,' put in Rough.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane smiled.</p> + +<p>'What an uncommon name,' she said. '"Célestine," did you say? It is +French.'</p> + +<p>'No, mamma, not "Célestine,"' said Alie, '"Celestina." I suppose it's +the English of the other.'</p> + +<p>'I never heard it in English before,' said Mrs. Vane, 'though I once had +a dear old friend in France called "Célestine"—you remember Madame +d'Ermont, Bernard? I've not heard from her for ever so long.'</p> + +<p>'Celestina was going to tell us about her name, but something +interrupted her and then she forgot,' said Alie. 'Perhaps they've got +some French relations, mamma.'</p> + +<p>'It isn't likely,' her mother replied. 'But some <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>day when I am in the +village, or town—should we call it "town," Bernard?'</p> + +<p>'It is a seaport, so it must be a town, I suppose,' said Mr. Vane.</p> + +<p>'I should like to see the little girl and her mother,' Mrs. Vane +continued.</p> + +<p>'And oh, mamma,' cried Biddy, jumping up and down in her chair as her +spirits rose again, 'when you do, <i>mayn't</i> I go with you, and then +Celestina would show me her dolls' room?'</p> + +<p>'We shall see, my dear,' her mother replied.</p> + +<p>Biddy was not at all fond of the reply, 'We shall see.' 'It's only a +perlite way of saying "no,"' she once said, but she dared not tease her +mother any more.</p> + +<p>'Nobody cares about what I like,' she said to herself disconsolately.</p> + +<p>Perhaps she would not have thought so if she had heard what her mother +and Rosalys were talking about later that afternoon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3>ON THE SEASHORE</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="The sands of the sea"> +<tr><td align='left'>'The sands of the sea stretch far and fine,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">The rocks start out of them sharp and slim.'</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 13.5em;"><i>A Legend of the Sea.</i></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>'Oh dear,' exclaimed Mrs. Vane one morning at breakfast two or three +days after the children's walk in to Seacove. Everybody looked up—the +two girls and Rough were at table with their father and mother. Mrs. +Vane had just opened and begun to read a letter. What could be the +matter?</p> + +<p>'It is from Miss Millet,' she said; 'her sister's children have got +scarlet fever, and she has got a bad sore throat herself from nursing +them. They had no idea what it was at first,' she went on reading from +the letter; 'but of course she cannot come back to us for ever so long +on account of the infection.'</p> + +<p>'Poor Miss Millet,' said Rosalys.</p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> don't mind,' said Biddy; 'I like having holidays.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>Alie, who was sitting next her, gave her a little touch.</p> + +<p>'Hush, Biddy,' she said, 'that's just one of the things you say that +sound <i>so</i> unkind.'</p> + +<p>She spoke in a whisper, and fortunately for Bridget her father and +mother were too much taken up with the letter to notice what she had +said.</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean,' Biddy was beginning as usual, but Mrs. Vane was +speaking to Alie by this time, and no one listened to Biddy.</p> + +<p>'I must write to Miss Millet at once,' their mother said, 'though I +shall ask her not to write often till the infection is gone—she says +this letter is disinfected. And, Alie, you had better put in a little +word, and Biddy too, if she likes. It would be kind.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, mamma,' said Alie at once, but Bridget did not answer.</p> + +<p>It was not usual for Mrs. Vane to discuss plans and arrangements for the +children before them, but this morning her mind was so full of the +unexpected turn of affairs that she could not help talking about them.</p> + +<p>'It will be a question of several weeks—even months, I fear,' she said +to Mr. Vane; 'there are such <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>a lot of those children, and Miss Millet +is sure to wish to nurse them all. We must think over what to do.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps you and I can manage the girls between us,' said Mr. Vane.</p> + +<p>'Alie perhaps,' began Mrs. Vane doubtfully.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Bridget suddenly, to every one's astonishment, 'if it was +only Alie. But it would never do for me. I'd be too much for you and +papa, mamma.'</p> + +<p>She spoke quite gravely, but the others had hard work not to laugh.</p> + +<p>'How do you mean, Biddy?' asked her father.</p> + +<p>'I'm very tiresome to teach; often I'm very cross indeed,' replied the +child complacently.</p> + +<p>'But you <i>need</i> not be; you can help being so if you try,' said Mr. +Vane.</p> + +<p>'Well, I don't like trying, I suppose it's that,' she answered.</p> + +<p>For the moment her father thought it wiser to say no more.</p> + +<p>Mr. Redding happened to call that morning, and at luncheon Mrs. Vane +told Alie and Bride that she was going to Seacove, and they might go +with her.</p> + +<p>Alie's eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>'Are you going to——' she began, and her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>mother seemed to understand +her without any more words.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' she said, 'I have got all the measures.'</p> + +<p>'And oh, mamma,' asked Biddy, too full of her own ideas to notice these +mysterious sayings, '<i>will</i> you go to Pier Street and let us show you +where Celestina lives. And if you <i>could</i> think of something you wanted +to buy, just any little thing, a pencil or some envelopes or +anything—they've got <i>everything</i>—we might go into the shop, and I +<i>daresay</i> if the nice mamma saw you, she'd ask you to step into the +parlour too.'</p> + +<p>'We shall see,' mamma replied.</p> + +<p>But 'We shall see' was this time accompanied by a little smile, which +made Bridget think that the 'We shall see' was perhaps a way of saying +'Yes.'</p> + +<p>Mamma had several messages to do at Seacove, and though Biddy was in a +great hurry to get to Pier Street, she was rather interested in the +other shops also. At the draper's, Mrs. Vane made some small purchases, +as to which Alie showed great concern. One was of pretty pink glazed +calico and of some other shiny stuff called 'chintz'—white, with tiny +lines of different colours; she also bought some red cotton velvet and +neat-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>looking white spotted muslin, and several yards of very narrow +lace of a very small and dainty pattern, and other things, all of which +interested Alie very much indeed, though after a while Biddy got tired +of looking on, and went and stood at the doorway of the shop.</p> + +<p>'I am sorry to give you the trouble of taking down so many things when I +only want such a short length of each,' said Mrs. Vane civilly to the +shopman—or shopwoman, I think it was. 'But the fact is I am buying all +these odds and ends for my little girl's'—and here she glanced round to +make sure that Bridget was out of hearing—'for my little girl's +doll-house, which needs doing up;' by which information Mrs. Cutter, the +draper's wife, was much edified, repeating it to her special cronies at +Seacove, together with her opinion that the new rector's wife was a most +pleasant-spoken lady.</p> + +<p>One or two other shops Mrs. Vane and Rosalys went into; a paper-hanger's +for one, or rather a painter's, where wall-papers were sold; and an +iron-monger's, where she bought two or three different kinds of small +nails, tin tacks, and neat little brass-headed nails. Bridget stayed at +the door of both these shops: she thought them not at all interesting, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>and mamma and Alie did not press her to come in. The little girl was in +a great fidget to get to Pier Street, and stood murmuring to herself +that she didn't believe they'd <i>ever</i> come; Alie might make mamma be +quick, she knew how she, Biddy, wanted to see Celestina and her dolls' +room.</p> + +<p>'But nobody cares about what <i>I</i> want,' she added to herself, with the +discontented look on her face which so spoilt its round rosy +pleasantness.</p> + +<p>Just then out came Mrs. Vane and Alie. They both looked pleased and +bright, and this made Biddy still crosser.</p> + +<p>'Well, now,' said her mother consideringly, 'is that all, Alie? Yes—I +think it is. I must call at the grocer's on the way home, but I think we +pass that way. No—I don't remember anything else.'</p> + +<p>At this Bridget could no longer keep silent.</p> + +<p>'Oh, mamma,' she exclaimed, 'and you said you'd come to Celestina's +house. It's too bad.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane looked at her in surprise.</p> + +<p>'I did not say so, Biddy; I said we should see. And we are going there +now. You have no reason to be so impatient and to look so cross,' and +she turned and walked on quickly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Biddy,' said Alie, 'you're too bad really. You spoil everything.'</p> + +<p>Then she ran after her mother, and Bridget followed them at some little +distance.</p> + +<p>They went directly down the street which a little farther on ran into +Pier Street, Biddy feeling more and more ashamed of herself. How she +wished she had been less hasty, and not spoken so rudely and crossly to +her mother. It did seem true, as Alie said, that she spoilt everything. +But she did not appear as sorry as she felt; indeed, her face had a +rather sulky look when at last she came up to the others, who were +waiting for her at the door of the shop.</p> + +<p>'I am going in to see Mrs. Fairchild,' said her mother. 'I have +something to ask her. You may come in too, Biddy, and I will ask to see +the little girl too.'</p> + +<p>A naughty spirit came over Biddy, even though in her heart she was +sorry.</p> + +<p>'No,' she said. 'I don't want to see the little girl, and I don't want +to come in,' and her face grew still more sullen.</p> + +<p>'Very well,' said her mother, 'stay there then.'</p> + +<p>But as she entered the shop with Alie she whispered to her, 'I really +don't know what to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>do with Biddy. She has such a <i>very</i> bad temper, +Alie. Just when I am doing everything I can for her too.'</p> + +<p>'Only she doesn't know about it, you see, mamma,' Alie replied. 'Still +she is very cross, I know.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild was herself in the shop as well as her husband. As soon +as she caught sight of Rosalys she seemed to know who Mrs. Vane was, and +came forward with her gentle smile.</p> + +<p>'I hope you will excuse my troubling you, Mrs. Fairchild,' said the +rector's wife, 'but Mr. Redding, whom I saw this morning, thought you +would be the best person to apply to about a little difficulty I am in.'</p> + +<p>She half glanced round as if to see that no one was in the way, and with +quick understanding Celestina's mother turned towards the inner door.</p> + +<p>'Will you please step into the parlour a moment?' she said. 'We should +be less interrupted.'</p> + +<p>Bridget, standing by the half-open shop door, heard the words. She felt +almost inclined to run forward and beg leave to go in too. But she knew +she must first ask pardon of her mother for her naughtiness, and the +idea of doing so before Mrs. Fairchild was not pleasant.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>'If Celestina would come out herself I could ask her to ask mamma to +speak to me,' thought Bridget. But no Celestina appeared.</p> + +<p>'They will be so comfortable in that nice warm parlour,' thought Biddy; +'and I daresay Celestina will be showing Alie all her dolls and things,' +for she had not noticed that just as Mrs. Vane went into the parlour she +had said a word to Rosalys, who had stayed behind.</p> + +<p>So Biddy stood outside, very much put out indeed. The ten minutes during +which she had to wait seemed to her like an hour; and when Celestina's +mother came to the door to show her visitors out, it was not difficult +for her to see that the little girl was not in at all a happy frame of +mind.</p> + +<p>'Good-morning, Miss Bridget,' said Mrs. Fairchild.</p> + +<p>'Good-morning,' Biddy could not but reply.</p> + +<p>She did not even wonder how Mrs. Fairchild knew her name; she was so +taken up with her own thoughts. She would have been rather surprised had +she known that it was about her, poor little neglected, uncared for girl +as she chose to fancy herself, that the two mothers had been speaking +those long ten minutes in the parlour—'Mayn't I see Celestina at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>all?' +Biddy went on. 'I think Alie's very——'</p> + +<p>'Very what?' said her mother. 'Alie has been quietly waiting in the shop +for me as I told her.'</p> + +<p>Alie came forward as she spoke.</p> + +<p>'And Celestina is not in this morning,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'She had a +headache, so I have sent her out a walk.'</p> + +<p>Thus all Biddy's temper and jealousy had been thrown away. She felt +rather foolish as she followed her mother and Rosalys down the street.</p> + +<p>After stopping for a moment at the grocer's, Mrs. Vane turned to go home +by the Parade, the same way by which the children had come to Seacove +that Saturday. It was a fine bright afternoon, still early—a little +breeze blew in from the sea—the tide was far out.</p> + +<p>'Mayn't we go home by the shore, mamma?' Alie asked. 'It is nice firm +walking nearly all the way.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane consented: they all turned down a sort of short cart-track, +leading through the stony shingle to the smooth sands beyond. The sun +was still some height above the horizon, but the cold frosty air gave it +already the red evening look. Glancing upwards at it Biddy remembered +the day she had watched it setting and the good resolutions she had then +made. She almost felt as if the sun <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>was looking at her and reminding +her of them, and a feeling of shame, not proud but humble, crept over +her. She went close up to her mother and slipped her hand through her +arm.</p> + +<p>'Mamma,' she said very gently, 'I'm sorry for being so cross.'</p> + +<p>'I am glad to hear you say so, Bride,' said her mother. She spoke very +gravely, and at first Bridget felt a little disappointed. But after a +moment's—less than a moment's—hesitation, the fat little hand felt +itself clasped and pressed with a kindly affection that, truth to tell, +Biddy was scarcely accustomed to. For there is no denying that she was a +very trying and tiresome little girl. And Mrs. Vane was quick and +sensitive, and of late she had had much anxiety and strain, and she was +not of a nature to take things calmly. Rosalys was of a much more even +and cheery temperament: she 'took after' her father, as the +country-people say. It was not without putting some slight force on +herself that Biddy's mother pressed the little hand; and that she did so +was in great part owing to a sudden remembrance of some words which Mrs. +Fairchild had said during their few minutes' conversation, which, as I +told you, had been principally about Bridget.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Yes,' Celestina's mother had replied in answer to a remark of the +rector's wife, 'I can see that she must be a child who needs careful +management. Firmness of course—but also the greatest, the very greatest +gentleness, so as never to crush or repress any deeper feeling whenever +it comes.'</p> + +<p>And the words had stayed in Biddy's mother's mind. Ah, children, <i>how</i> +much we may do for good, and, alas, for bad, by our simplest words +sometimes!</p> + +<p>So in spite of still feeling irritated and sore against cross-grained +Biddy, her mother crushed down her own vexation and met the child's +better mind more than half-way.</p> + +<p>A queer feeling came over the little girl; a sort of choke in her +throat, which she had never felt before.</p> + +<p>'If mamma was always like that <i>how</i> good I would be,' thought Biddy, as +she walked on quietly, her hand still on her mother's arm.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she withdrew it with a little cry, and ran on a few steps. Some +way before them a small figure stood out dark against the sky, from time +to time stooping as if picking up something. Bridget had excellent eyes +when she chose to use them.</p> + +<p>'It's Celestina, mamma,' she exclaimed, running back to her mother and +Alie. 'Mayn't I go and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>speak to her? She's all alone. Come, +Smuttie—it'll be a nice run for you. I may, mayn't I, mamma?'</p> + +<p>'Very well,' said her mother, and almost before she said the words Biddy +was off.</p> + +<p>'She must be a nice little girl,' said Mrs. Vane; 'her mother seems such +a sweet woman. But, Alie, did you ever see anything like Bride's +changeableness?' and she gave a little sigh.</p> + +<p>'But, mamma dear, she did say she was sorry very nicely this time—very +<i>real</i>-ly,' said Rosalys.</p> + +<p>'Yes, darling,' her mother agreed.</p> + +<p>A minute or two brought them up to where the two children were standing +talking together, greatly to Bridget's satisfaction, though Celestina +looked very quiet and almost grave.</p> + +<p>'How do you do, my dear?' said Mrs. Vane, shaking hands with her. 'I +have just seen your mother; she said you were out a walk, but we did not +know we should find you on the shore. Is it not rather lonely for you +here by yourself?'</p> + +<p>'I was looking for shells, ma'am,' Celestina replied. 'There's very +pretty tiny ones just about here sometimes, though you have to look for +them a good deal; they're so buried in the sand.'</p> + +<p>'But she has found such beauties, and she takes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>them home for her dolls +to use for dishes, and some of them for ornaments,' said Biddy. 'Do show +mamma how <i>sweet</i> they are, Celestina. And oh, mamma, mayn't I stay a +little with Celestina and look for them too?'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane hesitated.</p> + +<p>'I'm afraid not, Biddy,' she said. 'I must be going in—and Alie too. +She must write to grandmamma to-day.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, but mayn't <i>I</i> stay?' asked Biddy entreatingly. 'It's quite safe +for me if it's safe for Celestina, and she says her mamma often lets her +come out on the shore alone.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane looked round; the seashore was perfectly quiet except for one +or two old fishermen mending their nets at some distance. One could have +thought it miles away from the little port and the ships and the +sailors. Then, too, the Rectory was a very short distance off, and +indeed from its upper windows this sheltered stretch of sand could be +clearly seen.</p> + +<p>'Well, yes,' she said. 'You may stay for half an hour or so—not longer. +And indeed by then it will be quite time for you too to be going home, +will it not, my little girl?' she added to Celestina.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Yes, ma'am. I must be home by half-past four, and it takes twenty +minutes from here. I can go past the Rectory and see Miss——' she +hesitated over the name, 'Miss Biddy in at the gate, if you please,' +said Celestina, in her womanly little way.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane thanked her; then she and Rosalys walked on, and the two small +damsels were left alone.</p> + +<p>'Why must you be in by half-past four?' asked Biddy.</p> + +<p>'It's getting dark by then,' said Celestina. 'Besides there's things to +do. I get the tea ready very often. When mother's not very busy it waits +for her till she can leave the shop, but to-day I know she's busy, 'cos +father's got a great many letters to write. So I'll get the table all +ready.'</p> + +<p>Bridget gazed at her.</p> + +<p>'Do you like doing it?' she asked. 'You're such a little girl, you +see—not much bigger than me, and you play with dolls.'</p> + +<p>'I like to be useful to mother,' said Celestina simply.</p> + +<p>This was rather a new idea to Bridget, and she was sometimes very lazy +about thinking over new ideas.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Alie's useful to mamma, I suppose,' she said, 'but then she's the +eldest. And you're the only one—that's why, I daresay. Is it nice to be +the only one?'</p> + +<p>'Sometimes it's very alone,' said Celestina, 'some days when mother's +very busy and I scarcely see her, and I've nobody to show the dolls to.'</p> + +<p>'I know,' said Biddy. 'I'm rather alone too, for Alie's so big, you see. +Oh, Celestina, do look, isn't this a beauty? Look, it's all pinky +inside. Now I've got six and this beauty. I think that'll do for to-day. +I'm tired of looking.'</p> + +<p>'Sometimes I look for ever so long—a whole hour,' said Celestina, +rather taken aback by Biddy's fitfulness. 'But perhaps we'd better run +about a little to keep warm. It isn't like as if it was summer.'</p> + +<p>'I'm not cold and I don't like running,' said Biddy. 'Let's just walk, +Celestina, and you tell me things. Oh, look at the sun—he's getting +redder and redder—and look at the lighthouse, it's shining red too. Is +it a fire burning inside, do you think, Celestina?'</p> + +<p>'No, it's the sun's redness shining on the glass. The top room is all +windows—I've been there once,' she said. 'It's a good way to walk +though it looks so near, and there's some water too between. Father +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>took us once in a boat, mother and me, when the tide was in, and we +had dinner there; we took it with us, and there was a nice old man +father knew. And when the tide went out we came over a bit of water till +we got to the stones, in the boat, and then the boatman took it back, +and we walked home right along the stones—you see where I mean?'</p> + +<p>She pointed to the rocky ridge which I told you ran out from the shore +to the lighthouse. Bridget listened with the greatest interest.</p> + +<p>'How nice,' she said. 'Couldn't you have walked the whole way? I'm sure +there isn't any water between now—<i>I</i> can't see it. It must have gone +away.'</p> + +<p>'Oh no, it hasn't,' said Celestina. 'It's always there: it couldn't go +away. You couldn't ever get to the lighthouse without a boat; once one +of the men had to come in a hurry, and father said he had to wade to +over his waist.'</p> + +<p>But Bridget was not convinced. She stood there gazing out seawards at +the lighthouse.</p> + +<p>'I would like to go there,' she said. 'Can't you see a long way from the +top room that's all windows, Celestina? I should think you could see to +the—what do they call that thing at the top of the world—the north +stick, is it?'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 235px;"><a name="go" id="go"></a> +<img src="images/p115.png" width="235" height="400" alt="'I would like to go out there,' she said. P. 115" title="'I would like to go out there,' she said. P. 115" /> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>Celestina was not very much given to laughing, but this was too funny.</p> + +<p>'The North Pole, you mean,' she said. 'Oh no, you couldn't see to +<i>there</i>, I'm quite sure. Besides, there isn't anything to see like +that—not a pole sticking up in the ground—it's just the name of a +place. Father's told me all about it. And so did the old man at the +lighthouse. Oh, I would like to go there—better than anywhere—just +think how strange it must be, all the snow and the ice mountains and +everything quite, <i>quite</i> still!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3>A NICE PLAN</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Up where the world grows cold"> +<tr><td align='left'>'Up where the world grows cold,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Under the sharp north star.'</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 6.5em;"><i>A North Pole Story.</i></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Biddy stared at Celestina. The little girl's face was quite flushed with +excitement.</p> + +<p>'Go on,' said Biddy. 'Tell me some more. I never heard about it.'</p> + +<p>'It's what they call the arctic regions,' said Celestina. 'The old +sailor at the lighthouse has been there. Once he was there in a ship +that got fastened into the ice, and they thought they'd never get out +again, and they'd scarcely nothing to eat. Oh, it was dreadful; but I +did so like to hear about it. And fancy, in the summer it never gets +night up there—the sun never goes away; and in the winter it never gets +day, the sun doesn't come up at all.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> + +<p>'How very funny!' said Biddy. 'What makes it like that? Is it the same +sun as ours?'</p> + +<p>'Oh yes, but I can't quite explain,' said Celestina, looking rather +puzzled. 'Father showed it me with the candle and a little round globe +we've got, but I'm afraid I couldn't tell you.'</p> + +<p>'Could the old man tell it?' asked Biddy. 'I would so like to go to see +him. Don't you think we might some day?'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps,' said Celestina. 'When the summer comes perhaps your papa +would take you in a boat. Lots of ladies go out to the lighthouse in the +summer. It's too cold in a boat in winter.'</p> + +<p>'But I don't mean in a boat,' said Bridget; 'I mean walking. I'm quite +<i>sure</i> we could jump over the little bit of water if we gave a great big +jump. I once jumped over a whole brook at grandmamma's—I did really.'</p> + +<p>'It's much bigger than that—it is indeed. You don't understand,' said +Celestina. 'If you'd ask your papa he'd tell you, I daresay. But I think +we must be going home now. I'm sure it's time.'</p> + +<p>'I'm sure it isn't,' said Biddy crossly. 'We haven't talked about the +dolls at all yet, and I want you to tell me more about that funny place +where the snow is.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I'll try to think of more to tell you if your mamma will let you go out +with me another time, and I'd like dearly to show you my dolls' room if +you could come to our house one day,' said Celestina. 'But we must go +home now, Miss Biddy.'</p> + +<p>Bridget flounced about, looking very much put out.</p> + +<p>'I'm not going yet. I don't want to go in,' she said.</p> + +<p>Celestina began to look troubled. Then her face cleared.</p> + +<p>'<i>I</i> must go home,' she said, 'whether you do or not. I wouldn't for +anything have mother worrying about me. You wouldn't like your mamma to +be worrying about you, would you, Miss Biddy?'</p> + +<p>'I daresay she wouldn't care; I'd only get a scolding, and I don't mind +much,' said Biddy, who had got on to a very high horse by this time.</p> + +<p>Celestina stopped short and looked at her. She could not understand +Biddy at all.</p> + +<p>'Mother never scolds me, but I'm very unhappy when she's not pleased +with me,' she said gently; 'and I'm sure your mamma's very kind and +good. I'm sure she does care about you a great deal.'</p> + +<p>Her words reminded Bridget of what had <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>happened that very afternoon. +Perhaps what Celestina said was true: mamma had pressed her hand when +she said she was sorry. With one of the quick changes of mood which +seemed so strange to Celestina she turned suddenly.</p> + +<p>'I'll go home,' she said. 'Come on, Celestina, before I get naughty +again. But it isn't all for being good. It's a great deal that I want to +come out with you again, and perhaps I mightn't if I was late to-day.'</p> + +<p>'No. Very likely your mamma would think I made you disobedient,' +Celestina replied; 'and I shouldn't like her to think so.'</p> + +<p>'If I might go into the kitchen and get the tea ready for papa and mamma +like you do, I'd never want to stay out late,' said Bridget +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>Celestina considered.</p> + +<p>'You don't need to do that,' she said. 'It wouldn't be any good to your +mamma, for she's got servants to do it. But there must be other things +you could do if you want to help her.'</p> + +<p>'No,' said Biddy, shaking her head, 'there's nothing. And I don't think +I want very much; it's just sometimes. Alie helps mamma because she's +the eldest.'</p> + +<p>Celestina scarcely knew how to answer this, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>though she felt there was +something wrong about her little companion's way of looking at things. +But Celestina had not much power of putting her thoughts and feelings +into words. Her solitary life had made her a very silent child, not +intentionally, but by habit. She found it difficult to express her +meaning even to herself. Just now she gazed at Biddy without speaking, +so that Biddy began to laugh.</p> + +<p>'What are you looking at me so for?' asked the younger child.</p> + +<p>'I don't know,' said Celestina. 'I was only thinking.'</p> + +<p>'What?' asked Biddy again.</p> + +<p>'You should help too, even though you're the youngest,' said Celestina +bluntly.</p> + +<p>'Oh, bother,' was all Biddy's reply.</p> + +<p>They were at the Rectory gate by this time.</p> + +<p>'Good-bye, Miss Biddy,' said Celestina. 'I must run home fast. But I +don't think it's late.'</p> + +<p>'Good-bye,' said Biddy. 'I've got my shells; have you got yours? Oh +yes,' as Celestina held up a tiny little basket she was carrying. 'How +dreadfully careful you are! Good-night. I'll ask mamma to let me come +and see you very soon.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>On her way up the short drive to the house Bridget came face to face +with Randolph.</p> + +<p>'Oh, you're there, are you?' he said. 'Mamma was just asking if you'd +come in, so I came to look out for you.'</p> + +<p>Biddy was silent. This did not seem very like mamma's 'not caring,' as +she had been saying to Celestina.</p> + +<p>'It isn't late,' she remarked at last. 'Mamma said I might stay half an +hour.'</p> + +<p>'She was beginning to worry about you a little, all the same,' said +Rough. 'Were you with the little Fairchild girl?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Biddy.</p> + +<p>'Is she a nice little girl?' asked Rough.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Biddy again.</p> + +<p>'Then why don't you like her? Why are you so cross?' asked her brother.</p> + +<p>'I'm not cross, and I never said I didn't like her,' replied Bridget +impatiently.</p> + +<p>Rough began to whistle.</p> + +<p>'I can't say I agree with you,' he said. 'Well, I'll run on and tell +mamma you're all right;' and off he set.</p> + +<p>Biddy followed him slowly, feeling rather depressed.</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean to be cross,' she said to herself in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>her usual way, +though she really did feel what she said this time. 'It was kind of +Roughie to come to meet me. They're all good 'acept me. Celestina's good +too. I'm made all the wrong way,' and she sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>She brightened up again, however, when she met her mother at the door.</p> + +<p>'That's right, Biddy dear,' said Mrs. Vane. 'You've not stayed too +late.'</p> + +<p>Rough was there too; he had not told about her being cross evidently, +and Biddy felt grateful to him. It was very nice when mamma spoke like +that; it reminded her of the way her hand had been pressed that +afternoon. But a sudden thought rather chilled her satisfaction. Biddy +was beginning to be troubled with thoughts, and thoughts too that would +not be driven away and forgotten, as she had been accustomed to drive +away and forget anything that made her feel at all uncomfortable. This +thought teased and pricked her for a few seconds, and though she +wriggled herself about and stamped her feet down with hard thumps on the +gravel, it would not go.</p> + +<p>'Biddy,' it said, 'Biddy, you know what you should do.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> + +<p>So that at last, in sheer impatience of its teasing, she gave her +mother's sleeve a little tug.</p> + +<p>'Mamma,' she said, 'it was <i>her</i> that made me not stay longer than you'd +said. I wanted to. I wasn't very good, but she's good.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane turned with real pleasure in her face.</p> + +<p>'I'm very glad you've told me, Biddy,' she said. 'Yes, it was nice and +good of Celestina to remind you. I think she must really be a very +conscientious child.'</p> + +<p>'I don't know what that is,' said Bridget. 'At least, p'raps I do know, +but it's such a trouble to think. But Celestina <i>is</i> good. I almost +think she's a little too good.'</p> + +<p>Her tone was very melancholy. Rough burst out laughing, but Mrs. Vane +looked rather disappointed.</p> + +<p>'It will be so vexing if Biddy takes a dislike to her just when I was +hoping it would be a good thing,' she thought to herself.</p> + +<p>Still, the remembrance of the little talk with Mrs. Fairchild was in her +mind. She took no notice of Biddy's remark, only telling her cheerfully +to run in quickly and get ready for tea, as it was almost ready.</p> + +<p>The children's mother went to Seacove again the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>next day, but this time +she did not take either of them with her. She went straight to Pier +Street, and as soon as Mrs. Fairchild saw her coming into the shop she +came forward with a smile and showed her into the parlour. There +Celestina was sitting quietly working at some new clothes for her little +dolls: she wanted them to be very smart indeed, in case the Rectory +young ladies came to see them. She rose from her seat at once when Mrs. +Vane came in, but a shadow of disappointment crossed her face when she +saw that the lady was alone.</p> + +<p>'I have not brought Biddy this time,' said Mrs. Vane kindly. 'I have +come to see Mrs. Fairchild myself. But Biddy shall come some day soon. I +want you to show her your doll-house, for I should be glad for her to +get into the way of playing with one. She has always been a difficult +child to amuse,' she went on; 'she is so restless, and never seems to +get interested in her toys or games.'</p> + +<p>Celestina opened her lips as if she were going to speak, but said +nothing.</p> + +<p>'What is it, my dear?' said Mrs. Vane, seeing the look in the little +girl's eyes. Celestina grew pink.</p> + +<p>'It was only,' she began. 'It's not so nice to play alone.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + +<p>'No, that is true,' said Biddy's mother, 'and true of other things as +well as play.' Then she turned to Mrs. Fairchild: 'Have you been able +to——' she was beginning, but with a little gesture of apology Mrs. +Fairchild glanced at her daughter.</p> + +<p>'Go upstairs, Celestina, for a few minutes,' and in a moment Celestina +gathered together her small concerns and noiselessly left the room.</p> + +<p>'How obedient she is,' said Mrs. Vane with a little sigh. 'I should have +had quite an argument with Biddy, or at least cross looks.'</p> + +<p>'Children are very different,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'Still there is not +much you can do with them without obedience. And if they get the habit +of it quite young, it costs them so much less; they obey almost without +thinking about it.'</p> + +<p>'And have you seen Miss Neale?' asked Mrs. Vane after a little pause.</p> + +<p>'She came to see me yesterday, and I think it can be nicely arranged. +She is a very good girl: I feel sure you will be pleased with her. The +only difficulty would have been her promise about Celestina, which she +would not have liked to give up; but what you have so kindly proposed +puts this all right of course. It will be a great pleasure and interest +to Celestina <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>to learn with a companion. I feel that I cannot thank you +enough.'</p> + +<p>'On the contrary,' said Mrs. Vane, 'I have to thank you. I am in hopes +that your little daughter's companionship will be of great good to +Bridget.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild's gentle face grew a little red.</p> + +<p>'I think I may at least assure you of this,' she said, 'little Miss +Bridget will learn no harm from Celestina.'</p> + +<p>'I am sure of it,' said Mrs. Vane warmly. 'By the bye,' she added, +'Celestina is a very uncommon name. I have never heard it except in its +French form of "Célestine."'</p> + +<p>'Celestina was named after a French lady,' said Mrs. Fairchild—'a lady +who was very kind to my sisters and me when we were young. She happened +to be living near the town where our home was for some years. Her +husband had an appointment there. They had only one child, a daughter +named Célestine like her mother, who died, and my mother helped to nurse +her in her last illness, which made Madame d'Ermont very fond of her. +Indeed, I think she was very fond of us all,' she added with a little +smile, 'and I think I was a special pet of hers. Through her kindness I +had many advantages in my education.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> But when she and Monsieur, as we +always called him, went back to France troublous times came on. We lost +sight of them altogether. Still, I have never forgotten the dear lady, +and I determined to give my little girl her name.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane listened with the greatest interest.</p> + +<p>'"Madame d'Ermont," did you say?' she asked eagerly, and on Mrs. +Fairchild's answering 'Yes'—'It must be the same,' she went on; 'our +Madame d'Ermont's name was Célestine too. She was, or is, for I hope she +is still living, a great friend of ours too, Mrs. Fairchild. We spent +two winters in the south of France near her home, and we saw a great +deal of her. It is a pity for you not to have kept up writing to her; +she is very kind and very rich and childless—she might be a good friend +to her little name-daughter.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild's face flushed again: I rather think Biddy had inherited +something of her habit of hasty speech from her mother, kind-hearted and +good as Mrs. Vane was.</p> + +<p>'It would not be from any motive of <i>that</i> kind I should like to hear +from Madame d'Ermont again,' said Celestina's mother. 'It is true our +child has no one to look to but ourselves, and neither her father <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>nor I +can boast of very strong health—but still——'</p> + +<p>'Oh, I <i>beg</i> your pardon,' interrupted Mrs. Vane impulsively; 'I quite +understand your feeling, and I did not mean to say anything you could +dislike. But still I will look out Madame d'Ermont's address, or get it +from my mother, and when I write to her I may tell her of you, may I +not?'</p> + +<p>'I should be very grateful if you would do so,' Mrs. Fairchild replied.</p> + +<p>Then they went on to speak of the details of the arrangement they had +been making, and soon after Mrs. Vane left.</p> + +<p>That afternoon she called Bridget to her.</p> + +<p>'Bride,' she said, 'I have something to say to you.'</p> + +<p>'Yes, mamma,' Biddy replied, but without giving much attention. It was +probably, she thought, only to reprove her for her way of sitting at +table, or for having been cross to Jane, or for one of the hundred and +one little misdemeanours she was always being guilty of. And Biddy was +in a queerish mood just now: there was a good deal of battling and +pulling two ways going on in her baby heart. Was the lazy little <i>soul</i> +beginning to grow, I wonder?</p> + +<p>'Yes, mamma,' she said indifferently, with her peevish 'I didn't mean,' +quite ready to trot out on the smallest provocation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + +<p>'You must give your attention, my dear,' said Mrs. Vane; 'it is +something rather particular I want to tell you about.'</p> + +<p>'I <i>am</i> giving my attention,' said Biddy, though it did not look very +like it.</p> + +<p>'Well, then,' her mother went on, determined not to notice Bride's +evident wish to pick a quarrel, 'listen. You know that Miss Millet +cannot come back to us for a good long while. Alie's lessons do not +matter so much as yours, for she is very well on for her age and a +little rest will do her no harm; besides, she will have some lessons +with papa and some with me. But we have not time for you too.'</p> + +<p>'And you couldn't manage me if you had,' said Biddy gloomily.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane took no notice—'And besides, at your age it is most important +to be very regular. So I have engaged a daily governess for you, my dear +Biddy—that means a governess who will come every morning for three +hours, just to teach you. But she won't live in the house with us as +Miss Millet does.'</p> + +<p>'Won't she take us walks?' demanded Biddy.</p> + +<p>'Not every day, for some days she is engaged in the afternoons. But +twice a week she will come back in the afternoons and take you a walk +and stay <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>to have tea with you. Her name is Miss Neale; she is very +nice, though she is younger and—less experienced than Miss Millet. I +hope you will be very good with her, Bride.'</p> + +<p>Bride gave herself a little shake.</p> + +<p>'No, mamma,' she said. 'I don't want to be naughty, but I can't help it. +I'm sure I shall be very naughty with her.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane kept her patience. She looked at Biddy quietly.</p> + +<p>'Why, Biddy?' she asked. 'You are old enough to understand that I have +taken a good deal of trouble about this for you.'</p> + +<p>'I needn't have lessons till Miss Millet comes back; I'd be quite good +without. I don't like having lessons quite alone without Alie or +nobody,' said Biddy.</p> + +<p>'Would you like it better if you had some one to learn with you—some +one nearer your age than Alie, who would do the very same lessons?' +asked her mother.</p> + +<p>Biddy's eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>'I should think I would,' she said, 'but there isn't nobody'—then she +gave a sort of gasp. 'Oh, if only—if Celestina could do lessons with +me,' she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>exclaimed. 'She knows lots, mamma, all about up at the top of +the world, where there isn't <i>really</i> that stick I thought there was, +but lots of snow and always light—no, always dark, I forget which. I'll +ask her—the old lighthouse man told her. I'm sure she'd help me with my +jography, mamma, and she'd teach me to dress dolls and——' Biddy +stopped, quite out of breath.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane smiled; she looked very pleased.</p> + +<p>'I am very glad you have thought of it yourself, Biddy,' she said, 'for +it is the very thing I have planned. Celestina <i>is</i> going to have +lessons with you. Her mother had already settled for Miss Neale to give +her lessons, as they don't care about Celestina going to school, so it +would not have been fair for Miss Neale to give her up to come to us. +And besides, both papa and I thought it would make our little girl +happier to have a companion—eh, Biddy?'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane had hardly time to finish her sentence before she felt her +breath nearly taken away by a pair of fat little arms hugging her so +tightly that she could scarcely free her head.</p> + +<p>'Mamma, mamma,' cried Biddy, 'I love you, I do really love you now. I +never thought I did so much. Oh, I am so glad. Thank you, dear mamma.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>Never in her life had Biddy been so affectionate; never, at least, had +she shown her affection so much. Mrs. Vane kissed her warmly.</p> + +<p>'I am very pleased too, dear,' she said. 'I do think you will be a good +and happy little girl now.'</p> + +<p>'I'll try to be good, mamma, I will really. But it would take me a +dreadfully long time to be as good as Celestina, I'm afraid.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3>A SECRET</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="If the sun could tell us"> +<tr><td align='left'>'If the sun could tell us half</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">That he hears and sees,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Sometimes he would make us laugh,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1.5em;">Sometimes make us cry.'</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><span class="smcap">Christina Rossetti.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>'You must eat your breakfast properly, Celestina, my dear,' said Mrs. +Fairchild to her little daughter one morning in the following week. 'You +will be quite faint and tired before dinner-time if you don't, and that +would be a bad beginning.'</p> + +<p>Celestina on this set to work once more on her bread and milk. She was +too excited to feel hungry; her pale cheeks had each a bright spot of +colour and her eyes were shining. It was the day on which she was to +begin her lessons at the Rectory. Miss Neale was to call for her on her +way there, and though she had three-quarters of an hour to wait till +Miss Neale <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>came, the little girl was sure she would not be ready in +time.</p> + +<p>'I never saw her so taken up with anything before,' said her mother; and +Mr. Fairchild, who was sometimes disposed to take rather a gloomy view +of things, said he hoped they should not regret having agreed to the +arrangement, and that it would not lead to disappointment, on which Mrs. +Fairchild set to work, as she always did, to cheer him up.</p> + +<p>'It will give Celestina a little experience,' she said; 'and even if +there should be a little disappointment mixed up with it in any way, it +will do her no harm, and Celestina is a reasonable child.'</p> + +<p>She was very quiet but very happy as she set off with Miss Neale. It was +a bright pleasant morning, 'quite spring-like,' said the young +governess, and a walk at that early hour was of itself a pleasure to +Celestina. She had not been inside the Rectory since the Vane family had +replaced old Dr. Bunton and his wife, and scarcely was the door open +when the little girl noticed a difference. The old, heavy, stuffy +furniture was gone, and though it was still plain, the house looked +lighter and brighter. The schoolroom was a nice little room looking +towards the sea; there was a good strong table with a black <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>oil-cloth +cover and four hair-seated chairs, such as were much used at that time. +But there were two or three pretty pictures on the walls, and a cottage +piano, and in the bookcase were a few bright-coloured tempting volumes +as well as the graver-looking school-books. Everything was very neat, +and there was a bright fire burning, and in a pot on the window-sill a +geranium was growing and evidently flourishing. To Celestina it was a +perfect picture of a schoolroom, and she looked round with the greatest +interest as she took off her hat and jacket, according to Miss Neale's +directions, and hung them on a peg on the door.</p> + +<p>'You must be very neat here, you know, my dear,' she said; to which +Celestina meekly replied, 'Oh yes,' quite agreeing with Miss Neale.</p> + +<p>In a moment or two the door burst open and in came Biddy. A very +pleasant-looking Biddy, with a spotlessly clean apron, tidy hair, and +smiling face, and just behind her appeared her mother.</p> + +<p>'Good-morning, Miss Neale,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Here is Bridget, whom, you +have not seen before. Good-morning, Celestina. I hope you will be two +very happy and good little girls, and that Miss Neale will have no +trouble with you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then she went on to explain a little about the books Biddy used, saying +that Rosalys would look out any that might possibly be missing, and +after telling Miss Neale to keep up a good fire and one or two other +small directions of the kind, she left the schoolroom.</p> + +<p>Everything went on most smoothly. Miss Neale could hardly believe that +Bridget was the child she had been warned that she would find 'tiresome +and trying and requiring great patience.' For, for once Biddy really did +her best. She was interested in finding out how much Celestina knew +'compared with me,' and anxious that neither her little friend nor her +new teacher should think her stupid or backward. And though Celestina's +habits of steady attention had made her memory better and her knowledge +more thorough than Biddy's, still Miss Neale could hardly feel that +either of her pupils was more satisfactory than the other; both were so +obedient and attentive and intelligent.</p> + +<p>So the morning passed delightfully.</p> + +<p>'And won't it be nice?' said Biddy, as she stood at the gate, whither +she had accompanied Miss Neale and Celestina on their way home; 'the day +after to-morrow Miss Neale will come back to take us <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>a walk in the +afternoon, and you may come too, mamma says, and stay to tea if your +mamma will let you.'</p> + +<p>How Celestina's eyes sparkled! To be invited to tea at the Rectory +seemed to her far more enchanting than if she had received an invitation +from the Queen of the Fairies to be present at one of her grandest +festivals. She was <i>so</i> delighted that she forgot to speak, and Miss +Neale had to answer for her, and say that she would not forget to ask +Mrs. Fairchild's consent.</p> + +<p>'And some day, Celestina,' Biddy went on, 'I want you to ask your mamma +to ask <i>me</i> to tea, for I want to see your dolls.'</p> + +<p>Celestina looked rather grave.</p> + +<p>'I'll ask mother,' she said, but there was a little hesitation in her +manner. This did not come from any false shame—Celestina did not know +what false shame was—but from very serious doubts as to what her father +and mother would think of it. She had never had any friend to tea in her +life; father was always tired in the evening, and she was far from sure +that a chattering child like Biddy would not annoy him and make his head +ache. So poor Celestina was rather silent and grave on the way <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>home; +Biddy's thoughtless proposal had taken the edge off her happiness.</p> + +<p>On her way back to the house Bridget met Rosalys.</p> + +<p>'Well,' said Alie, 'and how did you get on, Biddy? How do you like your +new governess?'</p> + +<p>'<i>Ever</i> so much better than Miss Millet,' Biddy replied. Her superhuman +exertions had somewhat tired her; she felt rather cross now, and half +inclined to quarrel. She knew that Alie was particularly fond of Miss +Millet, and she glanced at her curiously as she made her speech. But +Alie was a wise little woman.</p> + +<p>'I'm so glad,' she said. 'So glad you like Miss Neale, I mean. Of course +I knew you'd like Celestina.'</p> + +<p>'I don't like her so very much as all that,' said Biddy contradictorily. +'I like her well enough to do lessons with, but she's not very nice +about my going there to tea.'</p> + +<p>'Going there to tea,' Alie repeated. 'What do you mean, Biddy?'</p> + +<p>'Mean what I say. She's coming here to tea two times every week if it's +fine, so I think they might 'avite me sometimes, and when I said to her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>just now I'd like to come, she looked quite funny and only said she'd +ask her mother. Not a bit as if she'd like it.'</p> + +<p>Rosalys felt very vexed.</p> + +<p>'Really, Biddy, you might know how to behave,' she said. 'People don't +offer themselves to other people like that.'</p> + +<p>'They do,' Bride retorted. 'I've heard papa say he was going to "offer +himself to luncheon" to Aunt Mary's, and——'</p> + +<p>'She's a relation,' Alie interrupted.</p> + +<p>'Well, and once mamma offered herself to tea to old Lady Butler—I know +she did—just before we went away at Christmas.'</p> + +<p>'That's quite different; she knows old Lady Butler so +well—and—and—mamma's grown up and knows what's right, and you're a +little girl, and you shouldn't do things like that without asking +leave,' said Rosalys decidedly.</p> + +<p>'You're a cross unkind thing,' said Biddy; 'and if you speak like that +I'll not go on being good any more.'</p> + +<p>Then she turned away from her sister and ran down a side-path of the +garden, leaving Rosalys looking after her in distress, and half inclined +to blame <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>herself for having spoken sharply to Biddy. 'It will vex mamma +so if this new plan doesn't do,' she thought regretfully. 'But perhaps +Biddy will be good again when she comes in.'</p> + +<p>The path down which the little girl had run led to a low wall from which +you overlooked the sea. The tide was in, and though at some little +distance from the Rectory, Biddy could clearly see the water shining in +the morning sunshine, which was yellower and richer in colour now, for +the season was getting on; the cold thin wintry look was giving place in +this sheltered spot to the warmer feeling of spring. The little waves +came lapping in softly; by listening intently and fancying a little, +Biddy could almost hear the delicate sound they made as they kissed the +shore.</p> + +<p>'I wish it was warm enough to bathe,' thought Biddy. 'But if it was +<i>they'd</i> be sure to say I mustn't, or that I was naughty or something,' +and in her anger at the imaginary cruelty of 'they,' she kicked the +little stones of the gravel at her feet as if it was their fault! But +the little stones were too meek to complain, and Biddy got tired of +kicking them, and seating herself astride on the wall, sat staring out +at the sea. Somehow it reminded her of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>her good resolutions, though it +was a quite different-looking sea from the evening tide, with the red +sun sinking below the horizon, like that first time on the shore.</p> + +<p>What a pity it was that she had spoilt the fresh beginning of being so +nice and good at her new lessons by being cross to Alie! And in her +heart Biddy knew that her sister had not blamed her without reason—it +was her old fault of heedlessness; she <i>was</i> quite old enough to +understand that she should not have asked Celestina to invite her, and +she knew too that Celestina had been right in answering as she did. But +all these 'knowings in her heart' did not make Biddy feel more amiable.</p> + +<p>'It's no good trying,' she said to herself as she got slowly down off +the wall—Bridget was always deliberate in her movements—'I'll just not +bother. I'll do my lessons, 'cos I don't want them to say I'm stupid, +but I'm not going to try not to be cross and all that. I'm tired of +trying.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane noticed at luncheon that Biddy was quiet and silent and not +particularly amiable looking, but Alie whispered that it had nothing to +do with lessons, which had gone off well.</p> + +<p>'Don't notice her, mamma; it was only that she <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>was vexed with me for +something,' Alie added; so nothing was said to Biddy, and she was +allowed to nurse her grievances in silence.</p> + +<p>She cheered up a little by tea-time, and told Randolph triumphantly that +she had done all her lessons for Miss Neale 'by myself, without asking +that nasty cross Alie or nobody to help me.' But she remained very surly +to her sister, though Alie tried to prevent her father and mother +noticing it.</p> + +<p>Next day was rainy and blowy. Miss Neale and Celestina arrived smothered +up in waterproofs and goloshes, and there was quite a bustle to get them +unpacked from their wrappings and warmed at the schoolroom fire. Biddy +made herself very important, and forgot for the time about being vexed +with Rosalys.</p> + +<p>Lessons went off well, thanks to Bridget's putting a good deal of +control on herself, though there <i>were</i> moments that morning which made +the young governess say to herself that she could understand its being +<i>sometimes</i> true that Biddy was tiresome and trying. When Celestina was +putting on her hat and jacket to go she gave Biddy a little touch on the +arm.</p> + +<p>'I asked mother,' she whispered, 'about what you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>said, and mother says +perhaps some day you would come early in the afternoon, and we could +play with the dolls and have tea for ourselves out of mother's toy cups +that she had when she was a little girl. They are so pretty. It wouldn't +be quite a real tea, for we don't have real tea till past five, but I'm +sure mother would get us some little cakes, and we might make it a sort +of a feast.'</p> + +<p>Biddy's eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>'Oh, that would be nice,' she exclaimed. 'Yes, please, tell your mother +I'd like to come very much. And just fancy, Celestina, that horrid Alie +said it was very rude of me to have asked you to ask me. I'm sure it +wasn't, now, was it?'</p> + +<p>Celestina grew red and hesitated.</p> + +<p>'I'm sure you didn't mean to be rude, Miss Biddy,' she said. 'Mother +said——' but here she stopped.</p> + +<p>'What did she say?' demanded Biddy.</p> + +<p>'I didn't mean to say that she said anything,' poor Celestina answered, +'only when you asked me——'</p> + +<p>'<i>What</i> did she say?' Biddy repeated, stamping her foot.</p> + +<p>'She didn't say you were rude; she said you were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>only a child,' +Celestina answered quietly. Biddy's temper somehow calmed her. 'And I +think so too,' she added.</p> + +<p>'Then, <i>I</i> think you're very, very unkind, and I'll never come to your +house at all,' said Biddy.</p> + +<p>And thus ended the second morning.</p> + +<p>Bridget was a queer child. By the next day she seemed to have forgotten +all about it. She was just as usual with Rosalys, and met Celestina +quite graciously. But it was not that she was ashamed of her temper or +anxious to make amends for it. It was there still quite ready to break +out again. But she was lazy, and very often she seemed to give in when +it was really that keeping up any quarrel was too much trouble to her. I +think, however, that Celestina's perfect gentleness did make her a +little ashamed.</p> + +<p>Lessons were on the whole satisfactory. Celestina worked so steadily +that she would soon have left Biddy behind had Biddy been as idle as had +often been the case under Miss Millet. And Mrs. Vane was pleased to +think that the plan had turned out so well.</p> + +<p>One day, about a week after Miss Neale had begun to teach the children, +just as they were finishing lessons, Rosalys made her appearance in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>the +schoolroom. It was one of the days on which Miss Neale and Celestina +came back in the afternoon to take the girls a walk and to stay to tea +afterwards. Rosalys looked pleased and eager.</p> + +<p>'Celestina,' she said, 'mamma has a little message for you. Please come +into the drawing-room before you go home this morning.'</p> + +<p>Up started Biddy.</p> + +<p>'What is it, Alie? Do tell me. Mayn't I come into the drawing-room with +Celestina?'</p> + +<p>Alie shook her head, though smilingly.</p> + +<p>'No,' she said; 'it's something quite private for Celestina.'</p> + +<p>'I'll come,' said the little girl, but Bridget's face darkened.</p> + +<p>'It's not fair,' she muttered, as Celestina, after carefully putting her +books away, left the room.</p> + +<p>'Come now, my dear,' said Miss Neale, not very wisely, perhaps—she +scarcely knew Biddy as yet—'you shouldn't be jealous. It's a very +little thing for Celestina to have a message to do for your mamma. Some +other time there will be one for you to do, I have no doubt.'</p> + +<p>Biddy wriggled impatiently.</p> + +<p>'They've no business not to tell me,' she said, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>taking not the least +notice of Miss Neale's words. Then she banged down her books and ran out +of the room without saying good-morning to her governess.</p> + +<p>Miss Neale did not see anything more of her till she and Celestina +returned that afternoon. It was a lovely day, and so as not to lose any +of the pleasant brightness of the afternoon, Mrs. Vane had made the +girls get ready early and go a little way down the sandy lane to meet +the two coming from Seacove. Bridget was gloomy, but Alie was +particularly cheerful, and after a while the younger sister's gloom gave +way before the sunshine and the fresh air and Alie's sweetness.</p> + +<p>'There they are,' she exclaimed, as two figures came in sight; 'shall we +run, Biddy?' and almost without waiting for a reply off she set, Bridget +following more slowly.</p> + +<p>When she got up to them Celestina and Alie were talking together +eagerly. They stopped short as Biddy ran up, but she heard Celestina's +last words, 'Mother says she'll be sure to get it by to-morrow or the +day after.'</p> + +<p>'What are you talking about?' asked Bridget.</p> + +<p>Celestina grew red but did not speak. Rosalys turned frankly to her +sister—<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It's a message of mamma's we can't tell you about,' she said, 'but +you'll know some time.'</p> + +<p>Alas, the brightness of the afternoon was over, as far as Biddy was +concerned. She turned away scowling.</p> + +<p>'Why should you know if I don't?' she said; 'and what business has +Celestina to know—she's as little as me nearly?'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 252px;"><a name="secret" id="secret"></a> +<img src="images/p148.png" width="252" height="400" alt="A SECRET. P. 148" title="A SECRET. P. 148" /> +</div> + +<p>'Oh, Biddy,' said Alie reproachfully.</p> + +<p>But that was all. She knew that argument or persuasion was lost on her +sister once she was started on her hobby-horse, ill-temper. She could +only hope that she would forget about it by degrees. And after a while +it almost seemed so. They went down to the shore, where it was so bright +and pleasant that it did not seem possible for the crossest person in +the world to resist the soft yet fresh breeze, the sunshine glancing on +the sands, the sparkling water in the distance. And Miss Neale was full +of such good ideas. She taught them a new play of trying to walk +blindfold, or at least with their eyes shut, in a straight line, which +<i>sounds</i> very easy, does it not? but is, I assure you, very difficult; +then they had a capital game of puss-in-the-corner, though the corners +of course were only marks in the sand; and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>with all this it was time +to go home to tea almost before they knew where they were.</p> + +<p>'How pretty it must be up in the lighthouse to-day,' said Celestina as +they were turning away.</p> + +<p>This was the signal for Bridget's quarrelsomeness again.</p> + +<p>'Miss Neale,' she said, shading her eyes from the sun, as she gazed out +towards the sea, 'Celestina does talk such nonsense. She says you can't +walk over the sands to the lighthouse. Now <i>can't</i> you? I can <i>see</i> sand +all the way.'</p> + +<p>Miss Neale was anxious not to contradict Biddy just as she seemed to be +coming round again, and she was really not quite sure on the point.</p> + +<p>'I can't say, my dear,' she replied. 'It does look as if you could—but +still——'</p> + +<p>'There now,' said Biddy to Celestina contemptuously, 'Miss Neale's +bigger than you, and she thinks you <i>can;</i> don't you, Miss Neale?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes, my dear,' Miss Neale, who was on some little way in front +with Alie, replied hastily; 'but come on—what does it matter?'</p> + +<p>But Biddy's tone had roused Celestina, gentle as she was.</p> + +<p>'I know you <i>can't</i>,' she said, 'and whether a big or <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>a little person +says you can, I just <i>know</i> you can't,' and she turned from Biddy and +walked on fast to join the others. Seeing her coming, Rosalys called to +her.</p> + +<p>'Celestina, I want to ask you something,' and in a moment the two were +talking together busily.</p> + +<p>'It's only the secret, Biddy,' said Alie laughingly; she did not know of +Biddy's new ill-humour. 'You mustn't mind.'</p> + +<p>Down came the black curtain thicker and thicker over Bridget's rosy +face; firmly she settled herself on her unmanageable steed.</p> + +<p>'I don't care,' she said to herself as she trudged along in silence +beside Miss Neale; 'they're horrid to me—<i>horrid</i>. And I'll be as +horrid as I can be to them. But I'll let that nasty Celestina see I'm +right and she's wrong. I <i>will</i>.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3>BIDDY'S ESCAPADE</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="And Dick, though pale"> +<tr><td align='left'>'And Dick, though pale as any ghost,</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">Had only said to me,</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"We're all right now, old lad."'</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 4em;"><i>Author of 'John Halifax.'</i></span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Miss Neale was rather in a hurry to get home that afternoon, so she and +Celestina did not linger at the tea-table as they sometimes did. By +half-past four they had gone, for on Miss Neale's account tea had been +ordered half an hour earlier than usual.</p> + +<p>Rosalys disappeared—mamma wanted her, she said. So Bridget was left +alone, for Rough had begun school some time ago. He rode over every +morning, and got home again about six.</p> + +<p>'I wonder if papa is in,' thought Biddy idly, for a moment or two half +inclined to see if she might pay him a visit in the study. But then she +remembered that he had been out all day, and that he was not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>expected +home till dinner-time. There were not many very poor people at Seacove, +but there were a great many young men and boys always about the wharf, +and some fishermen and their families living half-way between the little +town and a fishing village called Portscale, some way along the coast. +At Portscale there was a beautiful old church, and a vicar younger and +much more active than Dr. Bunton. Mr. Vane and he had made friends at +once, and to-day they had arranged to visit some of these outlying +neighbours together, for even though Mr. Vane was not at all strong and +had come to Seacove for a rest, he was far too good and energetic not to +do all he possibly could.</p> + +<p>Biddy felt very cross when she remembered that her father was out. She +strolled to the window; it was still bright and sunny—a sudden thought +struck her. She hurried upstairs to the room where her hat and jacket +were lying as she had just taken them off—her boots were still on her +feet, and in less time than it takes me to tell, for Biddy <i>could</i> be +quick if she chose, a sturdy little figure might have been seen trotting +down the sandy path which led to the shore.</p> + +<p>'If they leave me alone I'm forced to amuse my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>self and do things +alone,' she said to herself, as a sort of excuse to her own conscience, +which <i>was</i> trying, poor thing, to make itself heard, reminding her too +that there were plenty of things she could have done comfortably at home +in the nursery, where Jane Dodson was not bad company when allowed to +talk in her own slow way. There were to-morrow's lessons in the first +place—pleasant, easy lessons to do alone, and not too much of them; and +there was the kettle-holder she was making for grandmamma's birthday! +But no, Biddy refused to listen. She was determined to carry out the +wild scheme she had got in her head—'It <i>will</i> be nice to put Celestina +down,' she said to herself.</p> + +<p>A very few minutes' quick walking, or running rather, for Biddy could +run too when she chose, brought her to the end, or the beginning, +whichever you like to call it, of the long rough road, so to speak, of +stones, stretching far out to sea. Biddy had gone some way along it two +or three times when out with the others; it was a very interesting place +to walk along, as the outgoing tide left dear little pools, which held +all sorts of treasures in the way of seaweed and tiny crabs and +jellyfish, besides which, the scrambling over the pools and picking +one's way was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>very exciting, especially when there was a merry party of +three or four together. Biddy found it amusing enough even by herself, +for some little time, that is to say. But after a while she got rather +tired of not being able to walk straight on, and once or twice sharp +stones cut and bruised her feet, and she wished she had some one's hand +to take to steady her. She was very eager to get to the other end of the +tongue, or ridge of stones, for once there she felt sure it would be but +easy walking over sand to the lighthouse. For the lighthouse as you will +have guessed, was her destination!</p> + +<p>'I daresay the sand'll be rather wet,' she thought; 'it must be the +wetness that Celestina thought was water, for it shines just like water +sometimes. I'll run over it very quick and my boots are thick. What fun +it'll be to tell Celestina I've been to the lighthouse all by myself!'</p> + +<p>But the stones grew rougher and rougher. The tongue was not really more +than half a mile long, but it seemed much more. Several times before she +got to the end of it Biddy looked back with a half acknowledged thought +that perhaps it would be best to give up the expedition after all—no +one need know she had tried it. But behind her by this time <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>the rough +stones seemed a dreary way, and in front it did not now look far. She +felt as if she <i>could</i> not go back, and she had a sort of vague hope +that somehow or other the nice old man Celestina had told her of would +help her to get home an easier way. Perhaps he would take her round in a +boat!</p> + +<p>At last she got to the end of the stones, and then, oh joy! there lay +before her a beautiful smooth stretch of ripple-marked sand—how +delightful it was to run along it, so firm and pleasant it felt to her +tired little feet. The lighthouse seemed still a good way off—farther +than she had expected, but at first, in the relief of having got off the +stones, she almost felt as if she could fly. She did get over the ground +pretty quickly for some minutes, and even when she began to go more +slowly she kept up a pretty good pace. And at last she saw the queer +building—it reminded her a little of an old pigeon-house at +grandmamma's, for it was not a very high lighthouse—almost close to +her. But, Celestina had spoken truly, between it and her there lay a +good-sized piece of water, stretching up to the rocks, or great rough +stones round the base of the lighthouse—a sort of lake which evidently +was always there, filled up afresh by each visit of the tide.</p> + +<p>Bridget gasped. But she was determined enough <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>once she had made up her +mind. She went close up to the water; it did not look at all deep and +her skirts were very short. Down she sat on the sand, less dry than it +looked, and pulled off her shoes and stockings, tying them up into a +bundle as she had seen tramps do in the country. Then lifting her frock +as high as she could, in she plunged. <i>Oh</i>, how cold it was! But the +water did not come up very high, not over her knees, though now and then +a false step wetted her pretty badly. She was shivering all over, but on +she waded, till within a few yards only of the sort of little shore +surrounding the lighthouse, when—what was the matter with the sand, +what made it seem to go away from her all at once? She plunged about, +but on all sides it seemed to be sloping downwards; higher and higher +rose the water, till it was above her waist, and still every movement +made it rise.</p> + +<p>'I'm drowning,' screamed Biddy. 'Oh, help me, help me! Man in the +lighthouse, can't you hear me? Oh, oh, oh!'</p> + +<p>Biddy fortunately had good lungs and her screams carried well. But the +water kept rising, or rather she kept slipping farther down. She was +losing her head now, and had not the sense to stand still, and she was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>partly stupefied by cold. It would have gone badly with her but +for—what I must now tell you about.</p> + +<p>It was what would be called, I suppose, a curious coincidence, the sort +of chance, so to say—though 'chance' is a word without real +meaning—that many people think only happens in story-books, in which I +do not at all agree, for I have known in real life far stranger +coincidences than I ever read of—well, it was by a very fortunate +coincidence that that very afternoon Bridget's father happened to be at +the lighthouse. He had gone out there by a sudden thought of Mr. +Mildmay's, the Portscale clergyman I told you of, who had mentioned in +talking that he had not been there for some time.</p> + +<p>'And it is a very fine mild day,' he said. 'It doesn't take twenty +minutes in a boat. If you don't think it would hurt you, Mr. Vane?'</p> + +<p>Mr. Vane was delighted. There was a good deal of the boy about him +still; he loved anything in the shape of a bit of fun, and he loved +boating. So off the two came, and were most pleasantly welcomed by old +Tobias and his second-in-command at the lighthouse. And by another happy +chance, just as Biddy began to wade, Mr. Vane had come to the side of +the lantern-room looking over in her direction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> + +<p>'What can that be, moving slowly through that bit of water?' he said to +Tobias. 'I am rather near-sighted. Is it a porpoise?'</p> + +<p>'Nay, nay, sir, not at this season,' replied the old man; 'besides it's +far too shallow for anything like that, though there is a deepish hole +near the middle.'</p> + +<p>He strolled across to where Mr. Vane was standing as he spoke, and +stared out where his visitor pointed to. Then suddenly he flung open one +of the glazed doors and stepped on to the round balcony—perhaps that is +not the right word to use for a lighthouse, but I do not know any +other—outside, followed by Mr. Vane. Just then Biddy's screams came +shrilly through the clear afternoon air, for it was a still day, and out +at the lighthouse, when there was no noise of wind and waves, there was +certainly nothing else to disturb the silence except perhaps the cry of +a sea-gull overhead, or now and then the sound of the fishermen's voices +as they passed by in their boats. And just now the waves were a long way +out and the winds were off I know not where—all the better for the poor +silly child, who, having got herself into this trouble, could do nothing +but scream shrilly and yet more shrilly in her terror.</p> + +<p>Old Tobias turned and looked at Mr. Vane.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>'It's a child, 'pon my soul, it's a child,' he exclaimed, and he sprang +inside again and made for the ladder leading downstairs. But quick as he +was, his visitor was before him. People talk of the miraculous quickness +of a mother's ears; a father's, I think, are sometimes quite as acute, +and Bridget's father loved dearly his self-willed, tiresome, +queer-tempered little girl. Long before he got to the top of the ladder +he knew more than old Tobias, more than any of them—Mr. Mildmay or +young Williams, the other lighthouse man—had any idea of. He knew that +the voice which had reached him was that of his own Biddy, and before +Tobias could give him a hint, or ever a word had been said as to what +was best to do, he had pulled off his coat, tossed away his hat, and was +up to his waist in the water. For though not <i>so</i> deep close round the +lighthouse as at the dangerous place where Biddy had lost her head, this +salt-water lake even at low tide was never less than two or three feet +in depth at the farther side.</p> + +<p>'I can swim,' was all Mr. Vane called out to the three hurrying after +him. But so could Mr. Mildmay, and so could, of course, Tobias and +Williams. And it was not so much the fear of his friend's drowning as +the thought of the mischief that might <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>come to him, delicate as he was, +from the chill and exposure, that made Mr. Mildmay shout after him, +'Come back, I entreat you, Vane; you are not fit for it,' while he +struggled to drag off a very heavy pair of boots he had on—boots he had +on purpose for rough shingly walking, but which he knew would weight him +terribly in the water.</p> + +<p>A touch on his arm made him start. It was Tobias.</p> + +<p>'Stop you here, sir,' he said; 'Bill's off, and he's the youngest and +spryest,' and sure enough there was Williams already within a few yards +of Mr. Vane. 'I don't take it there's much danger of no drownding—and +Bill knows the deep part. But it's cold for the gentleman, so delicate +as he is—we two had best stay dry and be ready to give 'em a hand when +they get in. But it beats me, it do, to think what child could be such a +fool as to try to cross that there water—such a thing's ne'er happened +before.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Mildmay did not like to give in, though he knew there was sense in +what Tobias said. He stood hesitating, one boot half off, but there was +not long to wait. Soon came a cheery cry from Williams, 'All right, sir, +all right,' and in almost less <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>time than it takes to tell it, the two +men, half-swimming, half-wading, were seen returning, carrying between +them a little dripping figure, with streaming hair, white face, and +closed eyes.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 249px;"><a name="carrying" id="carrying"></a> +<img src="images/p161.png" width="249" height="400" alt="'——carrying between them a little dripping figure, with streaming hair, white face, and closed eyes.' P. 161." title="——carrying between them a little dripping figure, with streaming hair, white face, and closed eyes.' P. 161." /> +</div> + +<p>It was thus that Biddy paid her long thought-of visit to the lighthouse.</p> + +<p>She was not drowned, nor anything approaching to it; she had only once, +or twice perhaps, been thoroughly under the water; the whole had in +reality passed very quickly, but not so had it seemed to Biddy. Unless +you have ever been, or thought yourself in danger of drowning, you could +not understand how in such a case seconds seem minutes, and minutes +hours; and the ducking and the cold and the terror all combined had made +things seem worse than they really were. Bridget was almost quite +unconscious by the time her father had got hold of her—perfectly +stupefied any way; her clothes were heavy too, and she was at no time a +light weight. Altogether it was a very good thing indeed that strong +hardy Bill was close behind Mr. Vane, whose powers would not have held +out very long. As it was, he was whiter even than Biddy, his teeth +chattering with cold and nervous excitement, when at last the whole +party found them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>selves safe in the living-room or kitchen of the +lighthouse.</p> + +<p>Old Tobias had hot blankets down before the fire and a steaming tumbler +of brandy and water ready in no time. Biddy, deposited in front of the +grate, sat up and looked about her in a dazed sort of way. She felt as +if she were dreaming.</p> + +<p>'Biddy,' said her father, 'you must take off the wettest of your things +at once.'</p> + +<p>Biddy began to finger her garments.</p> + +<p>'My frock's the worst,' she said; 'and oh, where's my hat gone?'</p> + +<p>'Never mind your hat, child,' said Tobias. 'Here, step this way,' and he +led her to a sort of partition in the corner of the room, behind which +was his own bed; 'take off your things, my dear, and get into bed with +this blanket round you whiles I sees to the gentleman. You'll be none +the worse of your drenching: salt water's a deal better for not catching +cold. It's the gentleman we must see to. It's the new rector, and a +delicate gentleman he is.'</p> + +<p>Biddy stared up at him.</p> + +<p>'It's my papa,' she said.</p> + +<p>It was the old man's turn to stare now.</p> + +<p>'Your papa!' he exclaimed. He had never <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>dreamt but that Biddy was a +Seacove child, tempted out too far by the fine afternoon—a fisherman's +or boatman's daughter. But however curious he was to hear more, he had +too much sense to cross-question her just then.</p> + +<p>'Get into bed, missie, and get to sleep for a bit, while your things +dry.'</p> + +<p>Biddy had had her share of weak brandy and water; she had never tasted +it before, and it soon sent her to sleep.</p> + +<p>Tobias went back to Mr. Vane.</p> + +<p>'She's all right, sir. I'd no notion as she was your young lady. Was she +awaitin' for you on the sands, or how?'</p> + +<p>Mr. Vane shook his head.</p> + +<p>'I know no more about it than you,' he said. But he still looked so +white and faint that the lighthouse man and the others gave all their +attention to getting him warmed and dried, and at last they got him to +look a little better, though he declared he could not go to sleep.</p> + +<p>'You can stay quiet any way,' said Mr. Mildmay. But Mr. Vane looked up +anxiously.</p> + +<p>'My wife,' he said. 'She will be getting frightened, not about me +merely, but the child.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I will take the boat back at once and tell her,' said Mr. Mildmay; 'if +Williams can come with me, it won't take long. I'll run up to the +Rectory, and then we'll bring another man out to help to row us all back +again. I'll bring some wraps too. You think you'll be fit to go home in +an hour or so?'</p> + +<p>'Certainly,' said Mr. Vane decidedly. 'I could not stay here.'</p> + +<p>Mr. Mildmay reached the Rectory to find poor Mrs. Vane in a sad state of +fright. Biddy's absence had not been discovered for some time, as +Rosalys was busy with her mother, and Rough had not come in from school, +and everybody, if they thought about her at all, naturally thought she +was with some one else. For a girl of seven or eight should surely be +sensible enough to be left to herself for an hour in her own nursery or +schoolroom! But once the hue and cry after her began, it really did seem +as if there were cause for alarm. Every one had some new idea to +suggest, ending by Rough, who, as he came riding in on his pony and +heard the news, declared she must be hiding out of mischief.</p> + +<p>But no—a very short search dispelled that possibility, and the pony had +to be saddled again <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>for Rough to set off as fast as he could to Seacove +to inquire if the truant had perhaps followed Celestina home.</p> + +<p>'And your father not in yet either,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Oh, Alie, what +<i>can</i> be the matter? Can something have happened to him that Biddy has +heard of, and that has made her run off to him—poor Biddy, she is very +fond of papa. But if she has run away out of mischief, Alie—oh, <i>could</i> +she be such a naughty, naughty girl?'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane was dreadfully excited. Alie had hard work to keep back her +own tears.</p> + +<p>'Just as we were <i>so</i> happy about the doll-house for her too,' Mrs. Vane +went on.</p> + +<p>Rosalys gave a little sob.</p> + +<p>'I <i>think</i> perhaps she's at Celestina's,' she said. But in less time +than could have been expected back dashed Rough. No, Biddy was not, had +not been at Pier Street, but Celestina and her mother were following him +as fast as they could to the Rectory—Celestina had an idea—she would +explain it all—but she begged Mrs. Vane to send down to the shore; the +sea was out, and it was still light enough to see any one there a good +way off.</p> + +<p>A party was at once despatched to the sands, in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>vain, as we know, for +by this time Mr. Mildmay had landed from his boat and was hurrying along +to calm Mrs. Vane's anxiety. He arrived there a quarter of an hour or so +after Mrs. Fairchild and her daughter, so Celestina had had time to +explain the idea which had struck her—we know what it was, and that it +was the true one—and to relate to Mrs. Vane all her reasons for +imagining it possible that self-willed, obstinate Biddy had set out on +her own account to walk to the lighthouse.</p> + +<p>So when Mr. Mildmay appeared and told his strange story, his hearers +were able to explain what to him and Mr. Vane had seemed a complete +mystery.</p> + +<p>'How <i>could</i> she be so naughty?' Mrs. Vane exclaimed. But Alie touched +her gently.</p> + +<p>'Only, dear mamma,' she whispered, 'think; she might have been drowned.'</p> + +<p>'And so might your father, and as it is, I tremble to think what the +consequences may be for him. I do feel as if I could not forgive +Bridget,' said Mrs. Vane excitedly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild was very, very sorry for her, but she was a brave woman. +She managed to draw Mrs. Vane aside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Dear madam,' she said, 'I do feel for you. But we must be just. +Remember the child had no idea of what would be the result of her folly. +It was really but a piece of childish folly or naughtiness. And it may +be a lesson for all her life; it may be the turning-point for +her—if—if only you would—if you can meet her—gently—if nothing is +said to harden her.'</p> + +<p>'I will try. I promise you I will try,' said Mrs. Vane very softly. 'But +oh, Mrs. Fairchild, if it has made my husband ill!' and her voice broke.</p> + +<p>'We must hope not—hope and pray,' said Celestina's mother in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>'And there was something so interesting I wanted to tell you; I had a +letter to-day from Madame d'Ermont—such a nice letter. And now all this +has spoilt everything,' went on poor Mrs. Vane.</p> + +<p>'Never mind. You will tell me about it another time,' said Mrs. +Fairchild soothingly. 'Would it—excuse my suggesting it—would I be in +the way if I stayed till they come? I have some experience as to chills +and accidents of all sorts—and I would like to see how they are.'</p> + +<p>'Oh, thank you,' said Mrs. Vane fervently. 'I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>should be most grateful. +I have no one now with any head about me since my last maid left.'</p> + +<p>And Mrs. Fairchild stayed—not that evening only, but all night, sending +Celestina home to explain matters to her father.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3>AND ITS CONSEQUENCES</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Love will make the lesson light"> +<tr><td align='left'>'"Love will make the lesson light.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 1em;">. . . Teach me how to learn it right,"</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style="margin-left: 2em;">Through her tears smiled Daisy.'</span>—<span class="smcap">Anon.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>For Mrs. Vane's troubles came thickly just then. Before night it was +evident that both Biddy and her father were not to escape all bad +results from the chill and wetting; and the Seacove doctor, who was sent +for at once, looked grave, shook his head as he murmured that it was no +doubt most unfortunate. He would say nothing decided beyond giving some +simple directions till he should see how the patients were the next day. +Biddy, after a violent fit of crying, which came on when she found her +father could not come 'to say good-night,' and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'beggings'">begging</ins>, among her sobs, +to be forgiven, fell asleep, and slept heavily, to wake again in an hour +or two, feverish, restless, and slightly delirious. This, however, was +on the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>whole less alarming, for very little will make a child +light-headed, than Mr. Vane's condition. There was no sleep for him, +poor man; he was racked with pain and terribly awake—nervously anxious +to know the ins and outs of Biddy's escapade, and to soften it as much +as possible in her mother's eyes. Mrs. Vane kept her promise of being +very gentle with Biddy, and indeed, when in her room, and seeing the +poor little thing so ill, it was not difficult to be so. But once away +from her, and in sight of her husband's sufferings, the irritation +against Biddy grew almost too great to keep down. And Mrs. Vane was not +very good at keeping down or keeping in her feelings, and each time she +burst out it seemed to make Mr. Vane worse. There was no going to bed +for either her or Mrs. Fairchild that night; indeed, what she would have +done without Celestina's wise and gentle mother I do not know. It was +she who sensibly made the best of it all, soothing Mrs. Vane, who really +needed it almost as much as Biddy and her father; and the only snatches +of sleep Mr. Vane got were when her soft and pleasant voice had been +reading aloud to him.</p> + +<p>'I don't know how to thank you,' said Biddy's mother tearfully the next +morning early, when she at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>last persuaded Mrs. Fairchild to lie down a +little. 'Can't you stay all day to rest?'</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Fairchild shook her head, smiling.</p> + +<p>'I must go home,' she said. 'At the latest I must go home by ten +o'clock. It will be all right till then. I can trust Celestina to see to +her father's breakfast and everything, and there's not much doing in the +shop before then. Celestina will have let Miss Neale know not to come.'</p> + +<p>'How well you have brought your little girl up—how thoughtful and +womanly she is; and to think that she is only a year or two older than +Bridget!' said Mrs. Vane sadly.</p> + +<p>'It has not been exactly my doing,' Celestina's mother replied. 'I often +think the very things I would have wished different for her have been +the best training. She has <i>had</i> to be helpful and thoughtful; she has +had her own duties and share of responsibility almost all her life.'</p> + +<p>'Biddy never feels responsible for anything—not even for learning her +lessons or being ready for meals,' said her mother.</p> + +<p>'Well, that is just what wants awaking in her. This lesson may show her +that even a child is responsible, that a child may cause sad trouble.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +One would rather she had learnt it the other way, but it may be what she +needed.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane sighed. She wanted to be patient, but she could hardly bring +herself to feel that a lesson which was to cost Biddy's father such +suffering, nay, even to risk his life perhaps, would not be too dearly +bought.</p> + +<p>The doctor came, but he was not much more outspoken than the night +before. Biddy was to be kept very quiet, the more she could sleep the +better; as for Mr. Vane, he <i>hoped</i> it would not be rheumatic fever, but +it was plain he feared it. And he advised Mrs. Vane to get a trained +nurse.</p> + +<p>A trying time followed. For some days it seemed almost certain that Mr. +Vane was in for rheumatic fever; in the end he just managed to escape +it, but he was sadly weakened, and the cough, which had disappeared +since his coming to Seacove, began again. It would be weeks before he +could leave his room.</p> + +<p>And Biddy, too, did not get well as had been expected. She lay there +white and silent as if she did not want to get better, only seeming +thoroughly to wake up when she asked, as she did at least every two +hours, how papa was, and sinking back again when the usual answer came +of 'No better,' or 'Very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>little better.' Her mother was very kind to +her, but she could not be much with Biddy, and perhaps it was as well, +for it would have been almost impossible for her to hide for long her +great unhappiness about Mr. Vane.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild came to the Rectory as often as she could; sometimes she +sat with Biddy for an hour or more at a time, but Biddy scarcely spoke, +and Celestina's mother was both sorry for her and anxious about her.</p> + +<p>'There seems no one able to pay much attention to her,' she said one +evening at home; 'poor Mrs. Vane is so taken up, and no wonder, with her +husband, and Rosalys is as busy as she can be, helping and seeing to +everything.'</p> + +<p>There came a little voice from the other side of the table: the +Fairchilds were at tea.</p> + +<p>'Mother, do you think I might go to see her?' it asked. 'I'd be very +quiet.'</p> + +<p>'I'll ask,' Mrs. Fairchild answered. 'You might come with me to-morrow +and wait outside while I find out if it would do.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Vane had no objection—Biddy was really not ill now, she said. It +was just one of her queer ways to lie still and refuse to get up. +Perhaps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> Celestina would make her ashamed of herself. So Celestina was +brought upstairs, and tapped gently at the door.</p> + +<p>'Come in,' said Bridget, though without looking up. But when the neat +little figure came forward, close to the bedside, and she glanced round +and saw who it was, a smile came over her face—the first for a long +time.</p> + +<p>'Celestina!' she exclaimed joyfully. But then the smile died away again, +and a red flush covered her cheeks and forehead. 'No,' she said, turning +on the other side, 'I don't want to see you. Go away.'</p> + +<p>Celestina felt very distressed. But she wanted to do Biddy good, so she +put back her own feelings.</p> + +<p>'Please don't say that,' she said. 'I'll stay as quiet as anything, but +please don't send me away. I've been so wanting to see you.'</p> + +<p>There was a slight turning towards her on this, and at last Biddy lifted +her head from the pillow a little.</p> + +<p>'Did you truly want to see me?' she said.</p> + +<p>'Of course I did. I've been very sorry about you being ill,' Celestina +replied.</p> + +<p>Biddy did not speak. Then Celestina heard a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>faint sound, and going up a +little closer still, she saw that Biddy was crying.</p> + +<p>'Dear Miss Biddy,' she whispered. Then a pair of hot little arms, not so +fat as they had been, were stretched out and thrown round her neck.</p> + +<p>'Will you kiss me, Celestina?' whispered Bridget. 'Do you really love +me? If you do, you're the only one. I'm too naughty—I've been too +naughty. I've as good as killed papa—I know he's going to die. I heard +them saying the first night I'd as good as killed him, though I +pretended not to hear. And I've been trying to die myself; I thought +p'raps if I prayed a great, great lot to be forgiven, God would forgive +me before I died. But I want to die, because I'm so naughty I'm only a +trouble. And I <i>couldn't</i> live without papa, knowing I'd as good as +killed him. Oh, Celestina,' and here the voice grew so low that +Celestina could scarcely hear it, 'are you quite sure that papa hasn't +died already and they won't tell me?' and Celestina felt her shiver.</p> + +<p>'I heard him speaking as I came upstairs,' said Celestina, so quietly +that Biddy believed her perfectly; 'the door of his room was open. I +think he must be a little better to-day.'</p> + +<p>'Oh,' said Biddy with a gasp, 'I do wonder if he is.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>'And——' Celestina began, then stopped again, 'I don't think you should +talk about trying to die like that,' she said. 'I—I think it would be +rather a lazy way of being sorry for what we'd done wrong just to try to +die.'</p> + +<p>'I suppose it's because I'm lazy then. They all say I'm very lazy,' +Biddy replied. 'But I can't help it. I'm not going to try and be good +any more. I fixed that before—before that day. It's no use.'</p> + +<p>Celestina considered a little.</p> + +<p>'I should think,' she said at last—'I should think you would want to +get better to help to take care of your papa and make him better.'</p> + +<p>Biddy started at this. It was a new idea.</p> + +<p>'Do you think they'd let me?' she said in a half whisper. 'I thought I +was too little. Did you ever help to take care of your papa when he was +ill? But p'raps he's never been ill?'</p> + +<p>'Oh yes, he has,' said Celestina, with a sigh. 'I think he's iller than +your papa very often. I do lots of things for him then: I make his tea +always, and tidy his room. And sometimes when he's getting better and +comes downstairs to the parlour I read aloud to him. For when he's ill, +mother has all the more to be in the shop, you know.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bridget listened intently. At last—</p> + +<p>'Celestina,' she said, 'I do wish I could see papa. It would make me +<i>quite</i> sure he's alive, you know, for it all seems so muddled in my +head since the day I was so naughty. And if he'd forgive me, and if he'd +get better, I think, <i>perhaps</i>, I'd ask God to make me better too, so +that I might make papa's tea and read aloud to him like you do.'</p> + +<p>'Perhaps it wouldn't be exactly that,' said Celestina, a little afraid +of the responsibility of putting anything into Bridget's head, 'but I'm +sure you could do <i>something</i>. And why shouldn't you see him? Miss Alie +was in his room just now.'</p> + +<p>Bridget would have hung her head if she had not been lying down. As it +was, she looked ashamed.</p> + +<p>'He mustn't get up at all, you know,' she said. 'And one day when they +offered me to go to see him, I wouldn't.'</p> + +<p>'You wouldn't?' exclaimed Celestina.</p> + +<p>'No,' said Biddy; 'I didn't want to see him looking like he did that +day.'</p> + +<p>'But you'd like to see him now, wouldn't you?'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Biddy. 'If you were to get me my dressing-gown, Celestina, +don't you think I might just run down the passage and the little stair +and go <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>to see him? He lies on the sofa in his room, Alie said one day.'</p> + +<p>Celestina looked frightened.</p> + +<p>'Don't you think you should ask your mamma first?' she said. 'Besides, I +thought you were too ill to walk.'</p> + +<p>'Oh no,' said Bridget; 'I think I could walk if I tried. But you may go +and ask mamma if you like; I'm sure she'll say I may.'</p> + +<p>Off flew Celestina. She too felt pretty sure that Mrs. Vane would be +pleased to hear of Biddy's wish. But when she got to the room where she +had left her mother with Mrs. Vane, they were not there, and Alie, who +came in a moment afterwards, said they were walking up and down the +garden; if Celestina would go out she would be sure to meet them. 'And +mamma will be very pleased to hear that Biddy wants to go to see papa. +He has asked for her several times, but he said she wasn't to be forced, +not till she felt inclined. Papa <i>is</i> so good and patient, and he is +really a little bit better to-day,' said Rosalys brightly.</p> + +<p>Upstairs Bridget was eagerly waiting for Celestina's return. She had got +out of bed and reached down her dressing-gown for herself, feeling +rather <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>surprised at finding how well she could walk; she had found her +slippers too, and stood there leaning against the bed, quite ready for +her little expedition.</p> + +<p>After a while she crept to the door and peeped out. Sounds, cheerful +sounds of the usual morning stir in a well-managed house came up the +stairs; she heard faint clatter from the kitchen, and now and then a +little laugh or a few words of the servants talking together. But no one +was about upstairs.</p> + +<p>'Papa must be a little better,' thought Bridget, 'else they wouldn't +seem like that. I do wish Celestina would come back. I wonder if she's +forgotten?'</p> + +<p>She edged herself a tiny bit into the passage. It did not seem far, only +along by the balusters and down the little stair to papa's room; and +just then came a sound which seemed to go straight to Biddy's heart. It +was papa's cough—not a very bad one, just his usual little cough. It +seemed to waken her up—till now she had felt almost as if in a sort of +dream; it was so queer to feel and hear all the house-life going on the +same as ever when she had been out of it so long, for ten or twelve days +is a long time to a child—but the sound of papa's cough seemed to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>make +everything real, to join the past and the present together again, still +more, to touch a spring in Biddy which I think she had scarcely known +was there. And without stopping to think any more, off she set, along +the passage and down the stair, till she found herself, breathless and +rather giddy, but full of eagerness, at her father's door.</p> + +<p>It was open, as Celestina had said, and half shy now, Biddy peeped in. +He was lying on a couch between the fire and the window; it was a bright +<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'springlike'">spring-like</ins> morning—he had a book in his hand, but he did not seem to +be reading; he was quite still, his eyes were gazing out to the clear +blue sky, and the look in his face was very sweet. Then again came the +little cough. That was the signal. In rushed Biddy.</p> + +<p>'Papa, dear papa,' she cried, as she half threw herself, half tumbled +upon him, for she felt giddy again with moving so fast. 'Dear papa, are +you getting better? Please don't die, dear papa, and I <i>will</i> try to be +good. And oh, please forgive me, and don't say I as good as killed you.'</p> + +<p>'My poor little Biddy,' said Mr. Vane, raising himself so as to see her, +and drawing her tenderly on to the couch beside him,—'my poor little +Biddy. So <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>you've come to see me at last! And are you getting better, +dear?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, yes, papa, but please tell me you're not going to die because of +me,' and Biddy began to cry, but gently, not in her old way.</p> + +<p>Mr. Vane tried to speak, but his cough was troublesome.</p> + +<p>'I think I'm a little better, dear,' he said, 'and, please God, I hope +to be better yet. And it will be a great help to me if I see you quite +well again, and trying to be of use to mamma, Biddy, and to Alie. You +can help to nurse me, you know.'</p> + +<p>Biddy looked up. The very things Celestina had said!</p> + +<p>'Papa!' she said, 'might I really? Would mamma let me? Will everybody +forgive me?'</p> + +<p>Was it Biddy speaking? Even her father could scarcely believe it.</p> + +<p>Just at that moment Mrs. Vane came hurriedly into the room: she had been +to Biddy's, on receiving Celestina's message, and finding the bird +flown, had naturally taken alarm.</p> + +<p>'<i>Biddy!</i>' she exclaimed, as she caught sight of the child beside her +father, his arm round her, her eager flushed face looking up at him—and +her tone was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>rather anxious and annoyed. But Mr. Vane glanced at his +wife with a little sign which she understood. She came quickly towards +them.</p> + +<p>'Biddy,' whispered her father, 'here is mamma.'</p> + +<p>Bridget's face worked for a moment, then she flung her arms round her +mother's neck.</p> + +<p>'Mamma, mamma,' she whispered, 'I'm going to try to be good—if only +you'll forgive me. I don't want to die if I can be good and help to +nurse papa. Mamma, there was something <i>very</i> sorry came into my heart +when papa got me out of the water and I saw how white he was. But I +wouldn't listen to it, and it got hard and horrid. But now it's come +again—Celestina began it, and I <i>will</i> be good—and <i>don't</i> you think +God will make papa better?'</p> + +<p>I don't think Mrs. Vane had ever kissed Biddy as she kissed her then.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Doctors say that <i>wishing</i> to get better has a good deal to do with it. +It did seem so in Mr. Vane's case; he was not afraid to die, but he was +still young, and it seemed to him that if he were spared to live there +were many good and useful things he could do. And he was a happy and +cheerful man; he loved being alive, and he loved this beautiful <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>world, +and longed to make other people as happy as he was himself. Most of all +he loved his wife and children, and his great wish to get well was for +their sake more than for any other reason. And never during the several +illnesses he had had did he wish <i>quite</i> so much to get well as now. For +he had a feeling that if he did not recover a sad shadow would be cast +over Biddy's life—a shadow that would not grow lighter but darker, he +feared, as she came more fully to understand that her folly or childish +naughtiness had been the cause of his illness and death.</p> + +<p>'It would leave a sore memory in her mother's heart too,' Mr. Vane said +to himself, 'however much she tried not to let it come between her and +the child.'</p> + +<p>And I fear it would have done so.</p> + +<p>So Biddy's father did his best to get well. Not by fidgeting and +worrying and thinking of nothing but his own symptoms, but by cheerful +patience. He obeyed the doctor's orders exactly, and forced himself to +believe that the work he would fain have been doing would get done, by +God's help, even though <i>he</i> might not do it; he kept up his interest in +all going on about him, watching with the keenest <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>interest the pretty, +shy approaches of the spring from his window; he read as much as he was +allowed, and helped Rough with his lessons in the evening, and had a +bright smile for everybody at all times.</p> + +<p>'I almost feel as if he were too good to live,' said Mrs. Fairchild one +evening to Celestina and her father, when she had returned from a visit +to the rectory. But this time it was Mr. Fairchild's turn to speak +cheerily, for he too had been spending an hour or two with the invalid +that day.</p> + +<p>'I saw a decided improvement to-day,' he said. 'I do think Mr. Vane's +patience is wonderful, but I have a strong feeling that he is really +beginning to gain ground.'</p> + +<p>Celestina's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and so did her mother's. The +two families had grown very much attached to each other in these few +weeks.</p> + +<p>'<i>Won't</i> they all be happy when he gets well?' said the little girl. +'And oh, mother, isn't dear little Biddy different from what she was? +She is so gentle and thoughtful, and she's hardly <i>never</i> cross. She +does so many little things to help.'</p> + +<p>Mrs. Fairchild smiled. In her heart she thought that Celestina had +certainly had a hand in this pleasant change, but she would not say so. +Children <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>got less praised '<i>then</i>-a-days,' as a little friend of mine +calls long ago, for their parents were exceedingly afraid of spoiling +them, and the thought of taking any credit to herself had never entered +the child's mind.</p> + +<p>'I do hope,' she went on, 'that Biddy's papa will be nearly quite well +by her birthday. It'll come in a month, you know, mother, and the +doll-house is almost quite ready. Mrs. Vane has begun working at it +again the last few days, and Rosalys and I and Miss Neale have all been +helping. It <i>will</i> be so lovely, mother,' and Celestina's face lighted +up with pleasure quite as great as if it was all for herself.</p> + +<p>Truly, selfish people have <i>no</i> idea what happiness they miss!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3>ANOTHER BIRTHDAY</h3> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Rare as is true love"> +<tr><td align='left'>'Rare as is true love, true friendship is still rarer.'</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right'><span class="smcap">La Rochefoucauld.</span></td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<p>Bridget's birthday came in May—the middle of May. From the time I have +told you about in the last chapter Mr. Vane went on getting slowly +better; at least he got no worse. But it did seem very slow. At last +there came a day on which the doctor gave him leave to go downstairs.</p> + +<p>'I want to see what he can do,' the doctor explained. 'At this rate we +might go on for months and gain little ground. Perhaps he is stronger +than he seems.'</p> + +<p>They were all very eager and excited about this great step. It was an +'afternoon' day, as the little girls called those days on which +Celestina and Miss Neale came back again, and this afternoon Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +Fairchild came with them. Mrs. Vane was thankful to have her at hand in +case of any help being needed. And all the children were sent out for a +walk, with the promise of finding papa in the drawing-room when they +came in again.</p> + +<p>But as they were coming home they were met by Rough at the Rectory gate. +It was one of his occasional half-days. He ran out to meet them, but he +looked rather grave.</p> + +<p>'Is papa down? Is he in the drawing-room?' cried Rosalys and Biddy.</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Rough; 'but mamma's been rather frightened about him. He +seems so weak. She's sent me for the doctor, and he's there now. So you +must not go in to see papa. That's why I came to meet you.'</p> + +<p>Alie's face fell and Biddy's grew very red.</p> + +<p>'I'm sure <i>we</i> shouldn't hurt him,' she said. 'It's all that nasty +doctor,' and she almost looked as if she were going to get into one of +her old tempers.</p> + +<p>Celestina took hold of her hand gently.</p> + +<p>'Don't, Biddy dear,' she whispered. 'Perhaps when the doctor goes you'll +see him;' which did Bridget far more good than if she had overheard, as +she luckily did not, Rough's remark to Alie: 'I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>don't think <i>she's</i> any +right to grumble when it's all her doing.'</p> + +<p>It was not a kind thing to say, but then Rough's heart was sore and +anxious, and when one feels so it is difficult not to be cross and +sharp. All their hearts were sore, I think. Children jump on so fast in +their minds. Bride and Rough, and Alie too, I daresay, had fancied to +themselves that once 'downstairs' again papa would seem directly like +himself, and this news was a great disappointment. So the little party +went in rather sadly, Miss Neale telling them in a low voice to take off +their things and come down to tea in the schoolroom as quietly as +possible, Rough, over whom her authority did not extend, stationing +himself at the front door to watch for the doctor's departure.</p> + +<p>He stayed some time, and when he had gone Mr. Vane asked for the +children.</p> + +<p>'In a little,' Mrs. Vane answered. Then she turned to Celestina's +mother. 'This idea has rather taken my breath away,' she said, but her +voice was pretty cheerful.</p> + +<p>'I hardly see how it is to be managed,' said Mr. Vane, for once rather +despondently.</p> + +<p>'We will talk it all over afterwards,' said Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> Vane, at a little sign +from Celestina's mother; 'and now we will leave you to rest a while.'</p> + +<p>'Oh dear, Mrs. Fairchild,' she said, when they were alone in the next +room, 'I wonder what we can do. It is dreadful to think of going +abroad—to be alone among strangers, and my husband so ill. And then +leaving the children. I cannot send them to my mother. Her house is full +with my eldest brother's family home from India.'</p> + +<p>'I think they would get on very well here,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'And +your own governess will be back in a fortnight. Of course Miss Neale +would be too young for such a charge; besides, she cannot leave her +mother. And—you must excuse my suggesting it—but is not Madame +d'Ermont's home somewhere in the south?'</p> + +<p>'To be sure,' exclaimed Mrs. Vane, starting up joyfully; 'how stupid of +me not to have thought of it! Thank you so much for reminding me. I have +her last letter here. You have written to her yourself, have you not?'</p> + +<p>'Yes, indeed. I wrote to thank her very much for her kindness,' said +Mrs. Fairchild. 'It may be of the greatest advantage to Celestina some +day.'</p> + +<p>For I have been so busy with the story of Biddy's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>escapade and its +consequences, that I have put off too long telling of the French lady's +kind letter to Mrs. Vane about her old friend Mrs. Fairchild and her +little name-daughter Celestina.</p> + +<p>'It has touched me very much,' she wrote, 'to find I was still +remembered; and if ever I can be of use to little Célestine and her +mother I hope she or you will let me know.'</p> + +<p>Well, the doctor had ordered Mr. Vane to go abroad, as I daresay you +will have guessed.</p> + +<p>It was a sad disappointment, just when they had come to Seacove and he +seemed so well, and though no one reproached her, Bridget felt that the +consequences of her self-will were not to be soon forgotten.</p> + +<p>It was all settled very quickly; and from the time it was settled Mr. +Vane, 'out of contradiction,' he said laughing, really seemed to improve +faster than hitherto. So that he was looking a good deal more like 'a +proper papa,' as Alie said, the day he and Mrs. Vane started on their +long journey.</p> + +<p>'I am so glad you are going to be near that nice old lady,' said Alie, +amidst her tears; 'and oh, mamma dear, I will try to do everything you +would like.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I am sure you will, darling, and it is a great comfort to feel so much +happier about Biddy now. You will try to make a nice birthday for her, I +know.'</p> + +<p>'There'll be the surprise—that's something nice to look forward to. And +we may have Celestina as often as we like, mayn't we?'</p> + +<p>'As often as her mother can spare her, of course,' Mrs. Vane answered.</p> + +<p>Then came Biddy. She was not crying, though she winked her eyes a good +deal.</p> + +<p>'Mamma, I'll try to be good,' she said bluntly; 'and if papa gets quite +well again'—here her voice broke. 'Oh, mamma, if only it was the day +for you and papa to come back, and him quite, <i>quite</i> well. Mamma, I +think I'd never be naughty again.'</p> + +<p>This was a great, great deal from Biddy!</p> + +<p>That day <i>did</i> come, but a good many other days had to pass before it +came, and some of these were rather sad and anxious ones. For the first +letters from abroad were not as cheerful as Mrs. Vane would have liked +to make them for the little party so eagerly awaiting them at Seacove +Rectory. Mr. Vane was very tired by the journey, and had it not been for +the kindness of Madame d'Ermont, who <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span>would not hear of them staying +anywhere but in her house, at any rate till he grew stronger, Mrs. Vane +said she felt as if she would have lost heart altogether. But after a +little things brightened up again. 'Papa really seems to get stronger +every day,' she wrote; and on Bridget's birthday morning there came a +letter from papa himself, all scented with the sweet violets he had +slipped into it—for that was long before the days of parcel posts, by +which flowers reach us from the south of France and Italy as fresh as if +we had just gathered them in our own gardens—and telling of quite a +long walk he had been able to take without feeling too tired. The letter +ended up with wishing Biddy a truly happy birthday, and hopes that it +might be bright and sunny at Seacove. 'I only wish I could pack up some +of the sunshine here to send you,' wrote Mr. Vane, 'for we have enough +and to spare of it. But after all, the best sunshine of all is that of +happy and contented and loving hearts—is it not, my Biddy?'</p> + +<p>There was sunshine of both kinds that day at the Rectory. Celestina came +early, almost immediately after breakfast indeed, so as to be present at +the great 'surprise.' She was to spend the whole day for once with her +friends, which was a great treat, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>though she saw them regularly once or +twice a week when she came to have a French lesson from Miss Millet. +Mrs. Vane had arranged this before she left, for little Miss Neale, who +now gave Celestina lessons every day at Pier Street, could not teach +French, and it was a great pleasure, and help too, to Biddy to have +industrious, attentive Celestina still her companion in something.</p> + +<p>But to-day, of course, there was no question of lessons of any kind.</p> + +<p>They had breakfast extra early, which some children I know, would not, I +fear, consider a treat. Indeed, I once heard of some young people, +scarcely to be called children, and by no means overworked young people +either, who chose for a holiday pleasure that they should stay in bed +for breakfast, and not get up till the middle of the day, which, I must +say, I did not at all admire. The great reason for the extra early +breakfast on Biddy's birthday was not that the Vane children were so +<i>very</i> fond of being up betimes, but that Rough wanted to be there at +the great scene, and with some difficulty he had got an hour's 'grace' +from school that morning.</p> + +<p>To begin at the beginning—for I know that when I was a child I liked to +be told all about everything—the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>first pleasure of the day, after the +reading of papa's nice letter, was the sight of the breakfast-table. +Kind Miss Millet and Alie had dressed it up with cowslips after Biddy +had gone to bed the night before, for there were cowslips, and very +pretty ones, to be had in some woods a mile or two inland from Seacove. +And May birthdays always make one think of cowslips.</p> + +<p>The breakfast itself was very nice too—extra nice; for there was no +bread and milk for once, but only 'grown-up' things—a tempting dish of +ham and eggs, and delicious hot rolls and tea-cakes, and strawberry jam +and honey to eat with them as a finish up. And besides the letter from +papa—which had <i>really</i> come the day before and been kept till this +morning, as, in his fear of being too late, Mr. Vane had sent it off +rather too soon—there was a neat little packet for Biddy from +grandmamma, containing a story-book called <i>The Christmas Stocking</i>, and +a lovely scarf worked in all kinds of marvellous Eastern colours, +'making one think of the Arabian nights,' as Alie said, from the Indian +cousins. So that it was with a sigh of deep content that Biddy sat down +to breakfast, knowing that something still more delightful and wonderful +was in store.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>Celestina arrived before breakfast was quite over, and Rough ran out and +brought her into the dining-room, where she had to eat a roll and +strawberry jam to refresh her after her early walk. And then when every +one had finished and Rough had said grace, they all set off to the +schoolroom.</p> + +<p>'Shut your eyes, Biddy,' said Rough. 'I'll lead you in, and mind you +don't open them till I tell you.'</p> + +<p>There stood Biddy, as quiet as a mouse, though her heart was beating +fast, till, after one or two whispered directions—'That isn't quite +straight,' 'Put the chairs by the fire, Celestina,' and so on—came +Rough's voice—</p> + +<p>'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes.'</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 242px;"><a name="now" id="now"></a> +<img src="images/p195.png" width="242" height="400" alt="'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes.' P. 195" title="'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes.' P. 195" /> +</div> + +<p>And 'open her eyes' she did, though she half shut them again the next +minute, and then had to rub them to make sure they were not tricking +her. For there in front of her, on the schoolroom table, stood, its two +big doors flung wide open, the very nicest, most complete doll-house +that, in those days at least, could have been imagined. There were six +good-sized rooms: drawing-room, dining-room, two bedrooms, nursery, and +kitchen—the last, perhaps, the most fascinating of all, with its little +kitchen-range, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>its rows of brightly shining pots and pans, some black, +some tin, and some copper; its dresser and shelves, and charming dinner +service, and ever so many other things it would take me a very long time +to describe. And the dining-room, with its brown and gold papered walls, +and red velvet carpet and little stuffed chairs; and the drawing-room, +with sofas covered in dainty chintz and blue carpet and gilt-framed +mirrors; and the bedrooms, one white and one pink; and the nursery, with +the <i>sweet</i> little cradle and rocking-chair and baths and wash-hand +stands and I don't know all what—truly it was a very pretty sight. +Biddy gasped; she could not speak.</p> + +<p>'And only think, Biddy,' said Rosalys; 'it is our own old doll-house +done up. The one mamma had herself when she was a little girl, you know. +Doesn't that make it all the nicer? You <i>can't</i> think how we've all +worked at it. We'd begun it before—before papa and you got ill; that +was our secret that Celestina and I were always whispering about.'</p> + +<p>And in her delight even staid Alie gave two or three jumps up into the +air! But as she came down again she felt herself caught round the neck +and hugged and squeezed. Oh, how she <i>was</i> hugged and squeezed!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span></p> + +<p>And '<i>Oh</i>, Alie,' whispered Biddy, 'you are too good to me; for you +don't know how naughty I felt about your having a secret.'</p> + +<p>'Never mind, never mind. I daresay it was my fault. Mamma says it's very +teasing to talk about secrets, but it's all right now, and we are all +going to be so happy with the doll-house, aren't we? Now you must kiss +Celestina too; you don't know what a lot she's done. She hemmed the +sheets of the beds and the table-cloths and ever so many things, and her +mamma dressed the dolls—and—oh yes, Roughie papered nearly all the +rooms, and——'</p> + +<p>But here Rosalys, who seemed to be turning all of a sudden into a +regular chatterbox, was interrupted by more huggings and squeezings, as +Rough rather objected to much of this sort of thing, and Biddy had still +a great deal to spare even after she had bestowed a full share upon +Celestina. She quieted down, however, when Miss Millet suggested that +unless they set to work to go all over the house and admire all its +numberless treasures, it would be getting too late for the nice walk +they wanted to have before dinner. But in the midst of the showing +everything Celestina made them all laugh by calmly taking a little +parcel from her pocket, from which she drew <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>out three or four little +dolls, announcing that they were Eleanor and Amy and one or two new +ones, all in grand clothes for the occasion, who had come to spend the +day with the Rectory doll party.</p> + +<p>'You did invite them, Alie, you remember, don't you?' she said, looking +a little bit aggrieved. 'They would never have come without being +invited.'</p> + +<p>'Oh yes, I know I did,' Rosalys replied. 'It was only the funny way you +pulled them out of your pocket.'</p> + +<p>'And some day, Biddy, mother says, perhaps you'll bring yours to drink +tea with mine,' said Celestina, quite pleased again. 'We might pretend +that mine were some cousins they had in the country who were not very +rich, you know,' she went on simply. 'And I'd make their parlour as +smart as I could. I'd try to dress it up with flowers and green, so that +it would be like an arbour.'</p> + +<p>'Yes,' said Biddy, 'that <i>would</i> be nice. And <i>we</i> might have tea as +well as the dolls, mightn't we, Celestina? You know once you told me +about some little cups you have that we might have tea out of.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p> + +<p>'Oh yes,' Celestina replied hospitably, '<i>of course</i> we'd have real tea +too. Mother would make some cakes and——'</p> + +<p>'My dears,' said Miss Millet, 'I think we must be going out. You will +have all the rest of the day to play with the doll-house, but it is such +a lovely morning, and I think it's always so nice to have a good walk on +a holiday.'</p> + +<p>The little girls were quite of their governess's opinion, only sorry +that Randolph could not make one of the party. He came home, however, in +good time in the afternoon, and they all had a very merry tea together.</p> + +<p>'What a nice birthday it's been!' said Bride, as she and Alie kissed +Celestina, whose mother managed to spare an hour to come to fetch her +and at the same time to wish Biddy 'many happy returns.' 'How good of +you to dress the dolls for me, Mrs. Fairchild!' she went on. 'I think I +shall love the doll-house more and more every day, for, you see, it's +full of kind things you've all done for me. And I'm going to keep it +<i>so</i> neat. Mamma will be quite surprised when she comes home to find how +neat I've learnt to be.'</p> + +<p>'And only think, Mrs. Fairchild,' added Rosalys;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> 'do you know that papa +and mamma will most likely be home in one month? Just fancy, how nice!'</p> + +<p>The 'most likely' came true. One month saw Mr. and Mrs. Vane safe back +at Seacove; 'papa' so bright and well, so bronzed and ruddy too, that it +was difficult to believe he was the same feeble-looking invalid who had +started on his long journey nine weeks before.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It is not often—very seldom, indeed—that I am able to tell my readers +'what became of' the children they have come to know, and sometimes, I +hope, to care for in these simple stories. But as it is now many years +ago since the Vane family came to Seacove Rectory, and as Randolph and +his sisters and Celestina Fairchild have long ago been grown-up people, +I can give you another peep of them some eight or ten years after the +birthday I have been telling you about.</p> + +<p>The curtain rises again on a different scene.</p> + +<p>It is a lovely, old-fashioned garden, exquisitely neat and filled with +plants and flowers, showing at their best in the bright soft light of a +midsummer <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>afternoon. A rectory garden, but not Seacove. Poor Seacove, +with its sandy soil and near neighbourhood to the sea, could not have +produced the velvety grass of that old bowling-green, now (for we are +still speaking of a good many years ago) a croquet-ground, or the +luxuriant 'rose hedge' bordering one end. Two girls were walking slowly +up and down the wide terrace walk in front of the low windows, talking +as they walked. One was tall and slight, with a fair sweet face—a very +lovely face, and one that no one loved and admired more heartily than +did her younger sister.</p> + +<p>'Alie dear, I do hope you've had a happy birthday,' said +Bridget—sixteen-years-old Bridget!—for Rosalys was twenty-one to-day. +'There are some birthdays one should remember more than others. A +twenty-first birthday is a <i>very</i> particular one, isn't it?'</p> + +<p>'Yes indeed, Biddy, it is,' Alie replied. 'I can scarcely believe it. +And fancy, in five years more <i>you</i> will be twenty-one!'</p> + +<p>'I hope I shall go on growing till then,' said Biddy, whose great +ambition was to be as tall as her sister. 'Some girls do, don't they? +And I have grown a good deal this year. I don't look as stumpy as I did, +do I?' and Biddy looked up in her sister's <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>face with a pleasant +smile—a smile that showed her pretty white teeth and shone out of her +nice brown eyes. She was not lovely like Alie, but she had a dear honest +face—though she was still rather freckled, and her dark wavy hair gave +her a somewhat gipsy look.</p> + +<p>'You aren't a bit stumpy—you're just nice,' said Rosalys, 'though I +daresay you will grow some more. Just think what a little roundabout you +once were, and how you've grown since then.'</p> + +<p>'Yes indeed,' laughed Biddy. 'Talking of birthdays, Alie, do you +remember my eighth birthday? The one at Seacove, when papa and mamma +were away after his being so ill, and when you all gave me the +doll-house—the dear old doll-house; do you know I really sometimes play +with it still? I often think of Seacove.'</p> + +<p>'So do I,' said Alie. 'Of course I didn't like it <i>as much</i> as this, for +this garden is so sweet and the country all about here is so beautiful, +and then it's so nice to be near grandmamma. But Seacove had a great +charm about it too.'</p> + +<p>'The sea,' said Biddy—'the sea and the sunsets,' she went on half +dreamily; 'I always think when I see a red sunset——' but then she +stopped. There <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>are some thoughts that one keeps <i>quite</i> in one's own +mind!</p> + +<p>'I always feel grateful to Seacove,' she said after a moment's pause. +'Mamma is quite sure that the three years we lived there did more than +anything to make papa strong again. What a blessing it is that he is so +well now!'</p> + +<p>'And quite able for all his work here, though he could never stand +London again,' said Alie. 'I wish Rough had gone into the Church too, +Bride—that is to say, I wish <i>he</i> had wished it. Then we should have +had him somewhere near us, instead of far away in India,' and she gave a +little sigh.</p> + +<p>'But he's getting on so well—he was just <i>made</i> to be a soldier,' said +Biddy. 'And papa says it is like that. Some people just <i>feel</i> what +they're meant to be. And Rough is a great comfort, even though he has to +be away—and you know, Alie,' she went on quite gravely, 'I don't think +there <i>could</i> have been another as good as papa, not in the same way: +he's just nearly an angel.' Alie did not disagree. 'And Roughie will be +home before your next birthday, you know.'</p> + +<p>'I hope so indeed,' said Rosalys.</p> + +<p>'Talking about long ago,' went on Bride, to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>whom eight or nine years +were still a <i>very</i> 'long ago,' 'reminds me of dear little Celestina. +What ages it is since we have heard of her—not since the year her +father died, and we were afraid they were left rather badly off. How +strange it seems, Alie, doesn't it? that poor Mr. Fairchild should have +died and papa got well, when you think how ill papa was and that he +seemed quite well then.'</p> + +<p>'He was always delicate—Mr. Fairchild, I mean,' said Rosalys. 'But it +was very sad; they were so very fond of him. But, Biddy, we have heard +of Celestina since then—don't you remember, mamma wrote to tell Madame +d'Ermont of their trouble, and she wrote to Mrs. Fairchild inviting them +to visit her? They couldn't go—not then—but mamma had another letter, +thanking her and telling us where they were going to live. Still all +that is a good while ago, and when mamma wrote again her letter was +returned.'</p> + +<p>'How kind they were to us at Seacove!' said Bridget. 'I would love to +see Celestina again—fancy, she must be grown up.'</p> + +<p>What I am now going to tell you will seem to some people 'too strange to +be true,' but begging <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>these wise people's pardon, I cannot agree with +them. Strange things of the kind—coincidences, they are sometimes +called—have happened to me myself, too often, for me not to believe +that 'there is something in it.' In plain words, I believe that our +spirits are sometimes conscious of each other's nearness much sooner +than our clumsy bodies are. How very often is one met with the remark, +'Why, we were just speaking of you!' How often does the thought of some +distant friend suddenly start into our memories an hour or two before +the post brings us a letter penned by the dear far-away fingers!</p> + +<p>Something of this kind was what happened now. A young man-servant came +out of the house and made his way to where the girls were.</p> + +<p>'If you please, miss,' he said, 'a young lady is in the library waiting +to see you. My mistress is out. The lady asked for both you and Miss +Bridget.'</p> + +<p>'Who can it be?' said Rosalys.</p> + +<p>'How tiresome!' said Biddy.</p> + +<p>But they were accustomed to see visitors that had to be seen when their +mother was out, and they went together to the library.</p> + +<p>Alie went in first, but she stood perplexed and a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>little confused as a +slight tall figure rose from a chair and came forward to meet her.</p> + +<p>'I am afraid,' the stranger began, but before she could say another +word, or before Alie had time to do more than think to herself, much +more quickly than it takes to tell it, that surely she <i>should</i> know +that sweet pale face and bright though gentle eyes, Biddy had darted +forward and was throwing her arms round the young girl's neck. 'Don't +you know her, Alie?' she cried. '<i>I</i> do. It's dear little Celestina, +grown up, and oh, how nice and pretty and good you look! And we've been +speaking of you all this morning. It's Alie's birthday; she's +twenty-one, just fancy! And where have you been, and where's your +mother, and——'</p> + +<p>Her breathlessness gave Rosalys time to come forward and warmly kiss +Celestina in her turn. Then they made her sit down; she was looking +rather tired, for she had had a long walk in the sun—and by degrees she +told them all her news. There was a good deal to tell. The last four +years had been spent by her mother and herself in France, not far from +Madame d'Ermont, whom Celestina described as having been more than kind.</p> + +<p>'She paid for all my schooling and lessons,' the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>girl said simply, 'so +that mother could afford to stay with me all the time. Mother gave some +English lessons herself too. And I was able to learn French <i>quite</i> +well, which will be such an advantage to me. The last two years I taught +English at the school, so the expenses were not so great. And we spent +the summer holidays at Madame d'Ermont's château. Oh, she was <i>so</i> +kind!'</p> + +<p>'But why have you not written to us all this time?' asked her friends.</p> + +<p>'We have—two or three times, but the address must have been wrong, for +one letter was returned to us. I remember I put all rightly except the +county, for I did not think that necessary; and now—the other day, I +mean—when, we had answered the advertisement and were inquiring about +Calton, we found that there are actually three or four places of the +name in England. And oh, we were so delighted when we found on getting +there that Laneverel Rectory was only two miles off.'</p> + +<p>'Are you living at Calton then? What do you mean about an advertisement? +Is your mother at Calton?'</p> + +<p>Celestina laughed and blushed at her own confused way of explaining.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span></p> + +<p>'I am so pleased at seeing you that I am losing my head,' she said. +'Yes, we have come to live at Calton. We have got the dearest little +house there. And I am French teacher at the large girls' school just +outside the town. I get sixty pounds a year—is it not delightful? So we +are quite rich. If only—you don't know how I wish poor father could +have enjoyed it too—if he could but have had a few years of the +pleasant life and rest.'</p> + +<p>She smiled through the tears in her eyes. Biddy stroked her hand gently.</p> + +<p>'But you yourself—it isn't all rest for you?' said Alie, thinking as +she spoke that it was 'Celestina all over,' never giving a thought to +herself.</p> + +<p>'Oh no, I have to work of course. But I like it. And some of my pupils +are very nice and intelligent. Besides—I should be miserable if I were +idle,' she added brightly.</p> + +<p>'Yes, indeed,' both the girls heartily agreed. 'We are very busy too, +Celestina. We have lots and lots of things to do at home to help papa +and mamma, and all the village people to look after, and the schools and +the choir and the church. You must see the church, Celestina.'</p> + +<p>'It is just—almost, at least—perfect,' added Biddy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>enthusiastically, +'compared with poor old Seacove! Oh, do you remember the high pews with +curtains round, and the old clerk, and the pulpit like a Queen Elizabeth +bedstead.'</p> + +<p>'Only <i>without</i> curtains,' said Celestina, at which they all laughed. +They were so happy they would have laughed at anything!</p> + +<p>Then Celestina had to be told about Rough, and how well he was getting +on, though so far away, alas! And <i>then</i> she had to be taken out into +the garden to see its beauties, and have promises of unlimited cuttings +and seeds and I don't know all what for her own little garden. There was +poor old Smuttie's grave to show her too, in one corner, for Smut had +lived to enjoy a year or two of peaceful and slumberous old age on the +sunny doorstep in summer and the library hearthrug in winter at +Laneverel Rectory. And <i>then</i> came the sounds of wheels, and the pony +carriage turned in at the gate with Mr. and Mrs. Vane, and all the story +of the joyful surprise had to be told over again.</p> + +<p>The rector and his wife welcomed their old young friend as heartily as +their daughters had done, you may be sure. They pressed her to stay to +dinner, promising to drive her home in the cool of the even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>ing, but +this, Celestina, unselfish as ever, would not do, for 'mother' might be +uneasy. So they had a very delightful 'afternoon tea' in the garden, for +afternoon teas were just coming into fashion, and Rosalys and Bride +walked half-way home with Celestina, parting with invitations and +promises on both sides. Celestina was to spend at least <i>half</i> of her +half-holidays at the Rectory, and Alie was to drive to Calton to fetch +Mrs. Fairchild the very next Saturday, and the sisters were to pay +Celestina a long visit the following week, to see the dear little house +and all her treasures.</p> + +<p>'You shall have tea in the sweet little French tea-cups Madame d'Ermont +gave me,' said she joyfully. 'They are a <i>little</i> bigger than my doll +ones long ago.'</p> + +<p>'Oh dear,' said Biddy, 'that reminds me of the time I invited myself to +tea to your house, and Alie was so shocked at me. I <i>was</i> a horrid +little girl.'</p> + +<p>'No, you <i>weren't</i>', said both the others. 'And any way,' added Alie +fondly, 'isn't she nice now, Celestina?'</p> + +<p>'I've never had any friends, if I may call you so,' was Celestina's +indirect reply, 'that I have cared for as for you two,' and there was a +dewy look <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>in her gentle eyes which said even more than her words.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A <i>real</i> friendship—a friendship to last through the changes that +<i>must</i> come; a friendship too firmly based to be influenced by the fact +that none of us, not even the sweetest and truest, are 'perfect,' that +we <i>must</i> 'bear and forbear,' and gently judge each other while in this +world—such friendships are very rare. We are not <i>bound</i> to our +friends, not obliged to make the best of them, as with relations, and +so, too often, we throw each other off hastily, take offence in some +foolish way, and the dear old friendship is a thing of the past, one of +those 'used to be's' that are so sad to come across in our memory. But +it is not always so. Some friendships wear well, sending down their +roots ever deeper and more firmly as the years go on, spreading out +their gracious branches ever more widely overhead for us to find shelter +and rest beneath them in the stormy as in the sunny days of life. And +oh, dear children, such friendship is something to thank God for!</p> + +<p>My little girls, whose friendship began in the old back parlour at +Seacove, are not even young women now—they are getting down into the +afternoon of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>life—but they are still friends, true and tried. Friends +whom sorrow and trials only join together still more closely; whose love +for and trust in each other even death cannot destroy.</p> + + +<h2>THE END</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">R. & R. Clark, Limited</span>, <i>Edinburgh</i>.</div> + +<hr style='width: 65%;' /> +<div class="tnote"><h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3> + +<p>Punctuation errors have been repaired.</p> + +<p>The original text had a frontispiece that the list of illustrations recorded as being on page 89. It has been moved from the front to the text.</p> + +<p>Illustration that begins "——carrying" original read P. 162. Actual text is on page 161 +and the table of illustrations reads 161.</p> + +<p>All illustration captions but one were mixed case. This was retained.</p> +<p>The remaining corrections made are indicated by dotted lines under the corrections. +Scroll the mouse over the word and the original text will <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'apprear'">appear</ins>.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rectory Children, by Mrs Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECTORY CHILDREN *** + +***** This file should be named 18275-h.htm or 18275-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/2/7/18275/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Rectory Children + +Author: Mrs Molesworth + +Illustrator: Walter Crane + +Release Date: April 28, 2006 [EBook #18275] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECTORY CHILDREN *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +THE RECTORY CHILDREN + +BY MRS MOLESWORTH + +ILLUSTRATED BY + +WALTER CRANE + +[Illustration: 'It's the sun going to bed, you know, dear.' P. 37.] + + London + MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED + NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + 1897 + + + + + TO + MY NIECE AND GOD-DAUGHTER + Helen Louisa Delves Walthall + + 85 LEXHAM GARDENS + _Shrove Tuesday_, 1889. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + CHAPTER I + THE PARLOUR BEHIND THE SHOP 1 + + CHAPTER II + THOSE YOUNG LADIES 18 + + CHAPTER III + A TRYING CHILD 34 + + CHAPTER IV + BIDDY HAS SOME NEW THOUGHTS 51 + + CHAPTER V + CELESTINA 66 + + CHAPTER VI + THE WINDOW IN THE WALL 83 + + CHAPTER VII + ON THE SEASHORE 99 + + CHAPTER VIII + A NICE PLAN 117 + + CHAPTER IX + A SECRET 134 + + CHAPTER X + BIDDY'S ESCAPADE 151 + + CHAPTER XI + AND ITS CONSEQUENCES 169 + + CHAPTER XII + ANOTHER BIRTHDAY 186 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + '----and--oh, Alie, I have so torn my frock, and it's my + afternoon one--my new merino' 27 + + 'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the + other child 75 + + 'It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show' 89 + + 'I would like to go there,' she said 115 + + A secret 148 + + ----carrying between them a little dripping figure, with + streaming hair, white face, and closed eyes 161 + + 'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes' 195 + + + + + 'O little hearts! that throb and beat, + With such impatient, feverish heat, + Such limitless and strong desires.'--LONGFELLOW. + + + + +THE RECTORY CHILDREN + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE PARLOUR BEHIND THE SHOP + + 'I was very solitary indeed.' + (_Visit to the Cousins_).--MARY LAMB. + + +The blinds had been drawn down for some time in the back parlour behind +Mr. Fairchild's shop in Pier Street, the principal street in the little +town of Seacove. And the gas was lighted, though it was not turned up +very high. It was a great thing to have gas; it had not been known at +Seacove till recently. For the time of which I am writing is now a good +many years ago, thirty or forty at least. + +Seacove, though a small place, was not so out-of-the-way in some +respects as many actually larger towns, for it was a seaport, though not +a very important one. Ships came in from all parts of the globe, and +sailed away again in due course to the far north, and still farther off +south; to the great other world of America, too, no doubt, and to the +ancient eastern lands. But it was the vessels going to or coming from +the strange mysterious north--the land of everlasting snow, where the +reindeer and, farther north still, the white bear have their home, and +where the winter is one long, long night--it was somehow the thought of +the north that had the most fascination for the little girl who was +sitting alone in the dull parlour behind the shop this late November +evening. And among the queer outlandish-looking sailors who from time to +time were to be seen on the wharf or about the Seacove streets, now and +then looking in to buy a sheet of paper and an envelope in her father's +shop, it was the English ones belonging to the whalers or to the herring +smacks bound for the north who interested Celestina by far the most. + +This evening she was not thinking of sailors or ships or anything like +that; her mind was full of her own small affairs. She had got two new +dolls, quite tiny ones--Celestina did not care for big dolls--and long +as the daylight lasted she had been perfectly happy dressing them. But +the daylight was gone now--it was always rather in a hurry to say +good-night to the back parlour--and the gas was too dim for her to see +clearly by, even if she had had anything else to do, which she had not, +till mother could give her a scrap or two for the second dolly's frock. +It was mother she was longing for. She wanted to show her the hats and +cloaks she had made out of some tiny bits for both the dollies--the +cloaks, that is to say, for the hats were crochet-work, crocheted in +pink cotton. Celestina's little fingers were very clever at crochet. + +'Oh, mother, mother,' she said half aloud, '_do_ come.' + +She had drawn back the little green baize curtain which hung before the +small window between the shop and the parlour, and was peering in, her +nose flattened against the glass. She was allowed to do this, but she +was not allowed to run out and in of the shop without leave, and at this +time of the day, or evening, even when there were few customers, she +knew that her father and mother were generally busy. There were late +parcels to put up for the little errand-boy to leave on his way home; +there was the shop to tidy, and always a good many entries to make in +the big ledger. Very often there were letters to write and send off, +ordering supplies needed for the shop, or books not in stock, which some +customer had asked for. + +It was a bookseller's and stationer's shop; the only one worthy of the +name at Seacove. And Mr. Fairchild did a pretty good business, though +certainly, as far as the actual _book_ part of it was concerned, people +read and bought far fewer books thirty years ago than now. And books +were much dearer. People wrote fewer letters too; paper and envelopes +were dearer also. Still, one way and another it was not a bad business +of its kind in a modest way, though strict economy and care were +required to make a livelihood out of it. And some things had made this +more difficult than would otherwise have been the case. Delicate health +perhaps most of all. Mr. Fairchild was not very strong, and little +Celestina had been fragile enough as a baby and a tiny girl, though now +she was growing stronger. No wonder that a great share of both work and +care fell on Celestina's mother, and this the little girl already +understood, and tried always to remember. + +But it was dull and lonely sometimes. She had few companions, and for +some months past she had not gone to school, as a rather serious illness +had made her unable to go out in bad weather. She did not mind this +much; she liked to do lessons by herself, for father or mother to +correct when they had time, and there was no child at school she cared +for particularly. Still poor Celestina was pining for companionship +without knowing it. Perhaps, though mother said little, she understood +more about it than appeared. + +And 'Oh, mother, mother, _do_ come,' the child repeated, as she peered +through the glass. + +There were one or two customers in the shop still. One of them Celestina +knew by sight. It was Mr. Redding, the organist of the church. He was +choosing some music-paper, and talking as he did so, but the pair of +ears behind the window could not hear what he said, though by his manner +it seemed something not only of interest to himself but to his hearers +also. + +'I wish I could hear what he's saying,' thought the little maiden, 'or +most of all, I _wish_ he'd go and that other man too--oh, he's going, +but Mr. Redding is asking for something else now! Oh, if only mother +would come, or if I might turn on the gas higher. I think it would be +nicer to have candles, like Fanny Wells has in her house. Gas is only +nice when it's very high turned on, and mother says it costs such a lot +then. I _do_ so want to show mother the cloaks and hats.' + +She turned back at last, wearied of waiting and watching. The fire was +burning brightly, that was some comfort, and Celestina sat down on the +rug in front of it, propping her two little dolls against the fender. + +'To-morrow,' she said to herself, 'as soon as I've made a frock for +Eleanor, I'll have a tea-party. Eleanor and Amy shall be new friends +coming to tea for the first time--if _only_ the parlour chairs weren't +too big for the table!' she sighed deeply. 'They can't look nice and +_real_, when they're so high up that their legs won't go underneath. +People don't make our tables and chairs like that--I don't see why they +can't make doll-house ones properly. Now, if I was a carpenter I'd make +a doll-house just like a real house--I could make it so nice.' + +She began building doll-houses--her favourite castles in the air--in +imagination. But now and then she wanted another opinion, there were +knotty points to decide. As 'all roads,' according to the old proverb, +'lead to Rome,' so all Celestina's meditations ended in the old cry, 'If +only mother would come.' + +The door opened at last--gently, so gently that the little girl knew it +could be no one else but mother. She sprang up. + +'Oh, mother, I am so glad you've come. I've been so tired waiting. I do +so want to show you the cloaks and hats, and _can_ you give me a bit to +make Amy's frock? She looks so funny with a cloak and hat and no frock.' + +'I will try to find you a scrap of something when I go upstairs,' mother +replied. 'But just now I must see about getting tea ready. Father is +tired already, and he has a good deal to do this evening still. Yes, you +have made the cloaks very nice, and the little hats too. I'll turn up +the gas so as to see better.' + +Celestina gave in without a murmur to waiting till after tea for the +piece of stuff she longed for so ardently, and she set to work in a +neat, handy way to help her mother with the tea-table. They understood +each other perfectly, these two, though few words of endearment passed +between them, and caresses were rare. People were somewhat colder in +manner at that time than nowadays perhaps; much petting of children was +not thought good for them, and especially in the case of an only child, +parents had great fear of 'spoiling.' But no one who looked at Mrs. +Fairchild's sweet face as her eyes rested lovingly on her little girl +could have doubted for a moment her intense affection. She had a very +sweet face; Celestina thought there never could be anybody prettier than +mother, and I don't know that she was far wrong. If she ever thought of +herself at all--of her looks especially--it was to hope that some day +she might grow up to be 'like mother.' + +Tea was ready--neatly arranged on the table, though all was of the +plainest, a little carefully-made toast to tempt father's uncertain +appetite the only approach to luxury--when Mr. Fairchild came in and sat +down in the one arm-chair rather wearily. He was a tall thin man, and he +stooped a good deal. He had a kindly though rather nervous and careworn +face and bright intelligent eyes. + +'Redding is full of news as usual,' he said, as Mrs. Fairchild handed +him his tea. 'He is a good-natured man, but I wish he wouldn't talk +quite so much.' + +'He had some excuse for talking this evening,' said Celestina's mother; +'it is news of importance for every one at Seacove, and of course it +must affect Mr. Redding a good deal. I shall be glad if the new +clergyman is more hearty about improving the music.' + +Celestina so far had heard without taking in the drift of the +conversation, but at the last words she pricked up her ears. + +'Is there going to be a new clergyman--is old Dr. Bunton going away, +mother?' she asked eagerly, though the moment after she reddened +slightly, not at all sure that she was not going to be told that 'little +girls should not ask questions.' But both Mr. and Mrs. Fairchild were +interested in the subject--I think for once they forgot that Celestina +was only 'a little girl.' + +'Yes,' the mother replied; 'he is giving up at last. That has been known +for some weeks, but it is only to-day that it has been known who is to +succeed him. Mr. Vane, that is the name, is it not?' she added, turning +to her husband. + +'The Reverend Bernard Vane, at present vicar of St. Cyprian's, somewhere +in the west end of London--that is Redding's description of him,' Mr. +Fairchild replied. 'I don't know how a fashionable London clergyman +will settle down at Seacove, nor what his reasons are for coming here, +I'm sure. I hope the change will be for good.' + +But his tone showed that he was not at all certain that it would prove +so. + +'Is he married?' asked Celestina's mother. 'Oh yes, by the bye, I +remember Mr. Redding spoke of children, but old Captain Deal came in +just as he was telling more and I could not hear the rest.' + +'There are several children and Mrs. Vane a youngish lady still, he +said. The old Rectory will want some overhauling before they come to it, +I should say,' remarked Mr. Fairchild. 'It must be nigh upon forty years +since Dr. Bunton came there, and there's not much been done in the way +of repairs, save a little whitewashing now and then. The doctor and Mrs. +Bunton haven't needed much just by themselves--but a family's different; +they'll be needing nurseries and schoolrooms and what not, especially if +they have been used to grand London ways.' + +Celestina had been turning her bright brown eyes from one parent to +another in turn as they spoke. + +'Is London much grander than Seacove?' she asked. 'I thought the Rectory +was such a fine house.' + +Mrs. Fairchild smiled. + +'It might be made very nice. There's plenty of room any way. And many +clergymen's families are very simple and homely.' + +'I wonder if there are any little girls,' said Celestina. 'And do you +think they'll go to Miss Peters's to school, mother?' + +Her father turned on her rather sharply. + +'Dear me, no, child. Of course not,' he said. 'Miss Peters's is well +enough for plain Seacove folk, but don't you be getting any nonsense in +your head of setting up to be the same as ladies' children. Mrs. Vane +comes of a high family, I hear; there will be a French ma'amselle of a +governess as like as not.' + +Celestina looked at her father with a world of puzzle in her eyes, her +little pale face with a red spot of excitement on each cheek. But she +was not the least hurt by her father's words. She simply did not +understand them: what are called 'class distinctions' were quite unknown +to her innocent mind. Had she been alone with her mother she might have +asked for some explanation, but she was too much in awe of her father to +question him. + +Her mother turned to her somewhat abruptly. + +'I want some more water; the kettle, Celestina love,' she said; and as +the little girl brought it, 'I will explain to you afterwards, but don't +say any more. Father is tired,' she whispered. + +And Celestina quickly forgot all about it; the sight of Eleanor and Amy +still reposing on the hearthrug as she replaced the kettle drove out of +her mind all thoughts of the possible little Misses Vane. + +After tea, when the things were cleared away and Celestina had helped +her mother to make the room look neat and comfortable again, for the +little servant in the kitchen was seldom seen in the parlour, as she +fidgeted Mr. Fairchild by her awkward clattering ways, Mrs. Fairchild +went upstairs to fetch some sewing that needed seeing to. + +'I will look for a scrap or two for you,' she said to Celestina as she +went. 'But I'm not sure that you should sew any more to-night. It's +trying for your eyes.' + +'And what about your sums, child?' said her father. 'Have you done all I +set you?' + +'Yes, father, and I've read the chapter of _Little Arthur's History_ +too,' Celestina replied. + +'Well, then,' said Mr. Fairchild, drawing his chair nearer to the table +again--he had pushed it close to the fire--'bring your slate and your +books. I'll correct the sums and set you some more, and then we'll have +a little history. I will question you first on the chapter you have read +to yourself.' + +Celestina could not help an appealing glance at her mother--she had the +two little dolls in her hand, poor Amy still looking very deplorable in +her skirt-less condition. Mrs. Fairchild understood her though no word +was spoken. + +'I thought you were going back to write in the shop,' she said gently to +her husband. 'The stove is still hot.' + +'I am too tired,' he replied, and indeed he looked so. 'There is nothing +so very pressing, and it's too late for the London post. No--I would +rather take Celly's lessons; it will be a change.' + +Mrs. Fairchild said no more, nor did Celestina--father's word was law. +The little girl did not even look cross or doleful, though she gave a +tiny sigh as she fetched her books. She was a docile pupil, thoughtful +and attentive, though not peculiarly quick, and Mr. Fairchild, in spite +of his rather nervously irritable temper, was an earnest and intelligent +teacher. The sums were fairly correct and the multiplication table was +repeated faultlessly. But when it came to the history Celestina was less +ready and accurate in her replies. + +'My dear,' said her mother, who had sat down beside them with her sewing +by this time, 'you are not giving your full attention. I can see you are +thinking of something else. If it is anything you do not understand ask +father to explain it.' + +'Certainly,' Mr. Fairchild agreed. 'There is nothing worse than giving +half attention. What are you thinking about, child?' + +Celestina looked up timidly. + +'It wasn't anything in the lesson--at least not exactly,' she said. 'But +when father asked me who was the king of France then, it made me think +of what father said about a French ma'amselle, and I wondered what it +meant.' + +'Ma'amselle,' said her father, 'is only our English way of saying +"mademoiselle," which means a miss, a young lady.' + +'But those young ladies, the Rectory young ladies, aren't French,' +Celestina said. + +'Of course not. What I meant was that very likely they have a French +governess. It's the mode nowadays when every one wants to speak French +well.' + +'Oh,' said Celestina, 'I didn't understand. I'd like to hear somebody +speak French,' she added. 'Did you ever hear it, mother?' + +'Yes,' Mrs. Fairchild replied. 'When I was a girl there was a French +lady came to live near us that I was very fond of; and she was very kind +to us. She sent me a beautiful present when I married. I called you +after her, you know, Celestina--I'm sure I've told you that before. Her +name was Celestine.' + +'I remember,' the little girl replied; 'but I forgot about her being +French. I would like to see her, mother.' + +'I do not know if she is still alive,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'She must be +an old lady by now, if so. She went back to France many years ago; she +was in England with her husband, who had some business here. They had no +children, and she was always asking mother to let her adopt me. But +though there were so many of us, mother couldn't make up her mind to +spare one.' + +'Things would have turned out pretty different for you, Mary, if she +had. You'd have been married to a French "mounseer" by now,' and he +laughed a little, as if there was something exceedingly funny in the +idea. Mr. Fairchild did not often laugh. + +'Maybe,' his wife replied, smiling. + +'I do hope they'll have a French governess,' said Celestina. + +'Who? oh, the Miss Vanes,' said her father. 'Why, you _are_ putting the +cart before the horse, child! We don't even know that the new clergyman +has any daughters--his family may be all boys. Besides, I don't know +when you'd be likely to see them or their governess either.' + +'They'd be sure to come to the shop sometimes, father,' Celestina +replied eagerly. 'Even old Mrs. Bunton does--I've often seen her. And +there's no other shop for books and stationery at Seacove.' + +Mr. Fairchild smiled at the pride with which she said this. + +'It would be a bad job for me if there were,' he said, 'for as it is +there's barely custom for a shop of the kind,' and an anxious look came +over his face. But Mrs. Fairchild reminded him that if they did not +finish the chapter of _Little Arthur_ quickly, it would be Celestina's +bedtime, so the talk changed to the Black Prince and his exploits. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THOSE YOUNG LADIES + + 'Leave me alone--I want to cry; + It's no use trying to be good.'--ANON. + + +Six weeks or so later--Christmas and New Year's day were past; it was +the middle of January by this time--a little group of children might +have been seen standing on the shore about half a mile from Seacove. + +Though midwinter, it was not very cold. There is a theory that it never +is very cold at the seaside. I cannot say that I have always found this +the case, but it was so at Seacove. It lay in a sheltered position, out +of the way of the east wind, and this was one reason why Mr. Vane had +decided to make it for a time the home of himself and his family. + +These were his children--the group on the seashore. Rumour had +exaggerated a little in saying he had 'several.' There were but three of +them, and of these three two were girls. So Celestina Fairchild's +thoughts about them had some foundation after all. + +'It looks just a little, a very little dreary,' said the eldest of the +three, a girl of thirteen or so, slight and rather tall for her age, +with a pretty graceful figure and pretty delicate features; 'but then of +course it's the middle of winter. Not that spring or summer would make +much difference here; there are so very few trees.' + +She glanced round her as she spoke. It was a bare, almost +desolate-looking stretch of country, down to the sea, which was still +and gray-looking this morning. Yet there was a strange charm about it +too--the land, though by no means hilly, was undulating. Not far from +where the children stood there was a grand run of sand-hills, with +coarse, strong grass and a few hardy thistles, and, in its season, +bindweed with its white and pinky flowers, growing along their summit. +Farther off was a sort of skeleton-like erection, looking not unlike the +gaunt remains of a deserted sail-less ship: this was a landmark or +beacon, placed there to point out a sudden turn in the coastline. And +out at sea, a mile or so distant, stood a lighthouse with a revolving +lantern; three times in each minute the bright light was to be seen as +soon as night fell. A kind of natural breakwater ran out in a straight +line to the lighthouse, so that in low tides--and the tides are +sometimes very low at Seacove--it was difficult to believe but that you +could get on foot all the way to the lighthouse rock. + +But all these interesting particulars were not as yet known to Mr. +Vane's children. They had arrived at Seacove Rectory only the night +before. + +The boy--he was next in age to his elder sister Rosalys--followed the +direction of her glance. + +'No,' he said, 'there's very few trees, certainly. But I think it's +going to be very jolly all the same. When I get my pony _I'll_ be all +right any way; and on Saturdays, or odd half-holidays--there always are +odd half-holidays at every school, you know--I'll take you girls out a +drive in that funny little donkey-chaise, or whatever it is, that's +standing in the coach-house.' + +'I don't fancy there are many places to drive to,' Rosalys replied. +'Papa said there would be no use in having any sort of proper carriage. +The only good road is the one to your school, Rough, and you'll have +enough of that morning and evening.' + +'Papa said Seacove was a--I can't remember the word--something +French--cool--cul----' + +'_Cul-de-sac_,' said Rosalys; 'leading to nowhere, that means.' + +'Except to the sea, I suppose,' added the little girl who had stumbled +at the French word. 'It would be nice to have a ship of our own instead +of a carriage. Don't you think we might ask papa to get us one?' + +'A _ship_, Biddy--I suppose you mean a boat,' said Rosalys, in a rather +'superior' tone. 'No; I don't fancy papa would trust us to go about in a +boat. Mamma would be frightened out of her wits about us.' + +'The sea looks _so_ quiet,' said Bridget, gazing out at it. 'I don't +think it could ever be tossy and soapy here like it used to be at +Rockcliffe.' + +'Couldn't it just?' said Randolph. 'Wait a bit, Bride. It may look quiet +on a day like this, and inside the shelter of the bay, but I can tell +you there's jolly rough work outside there sometimes. I was talking to +an old sailor this morning when I ran out before breakfast.' + +'I'd like to see a shipwreck--I mean,' as she caught sight of a shocked +expression on her sister's face--'I mean of course one that nobody would +be drowned in.' + +'But how could any one be sure of that? You should be more careful what +you say, Bride; you are so heedless.' + +Bridget's face puckered up. It was rather given to puckering up, funny +little face that it was. She was eight years old, short and rather +stout, with thick, dark hair and a freckled complexion. Her nose turned +up and her mouth was not small. But she was not ugly; she had merry gray +eyes and very white teeth. Somehow, thorough little English girl though +she was, she reminded one of the small Savoyard boys one sees with a box +of marmots slung in front of them, or a barrel organ and a monkey. + +'I didn't mean to say anything naughty, Alie,' she began, in a plaintive +tone. 'I'm always----' + +'Oh, come now, Biddy, stop that, do,' said her brother; 'don't spoil the +first morning by going off into a howl for nothing. No one supposes you +wanted to drown a lot of people for the sake of watching a shipwreck, +only, as Alie says, you should be more careful. Strangers might think +you a very queer little girl if they heard you say such a thing.' + +Bridget still looked melancholy, but she did not venture to complain any +more. She was a good deal in awe of Rough, who was twelve and a big boy +for his age. He had been at school for two years, and now he was going +as a day-scholar to a large and very excellent public school, which was +only about two miles from Seacove, quite in the country. Mr. Vane had +bought a pony for him to ride backwards and forwards, so Randolph was in +capital spirits. But he was not an unkind or selfish boy, and though his +pet name 'Rough' suited him sometimes as regarded his manners, his heart +was gentle. And indeed the name had been given to him at first on +account of his thick shaggy hair, as a very little boy. + +'It's rather cold standing about,' said Rosalys. 'Don't you think we'd +better walk on or take a run?' + +'Let's have a race,' said Rough. 'The sand's nice and firm about here. +I'll give you a good start, Alie, and Biddy can run on in front and wait +till we call to her that we're off.' + +Bridget trotted off as she was told, obediently. She did not care much +for running. Her legs were short and she was rather fat, but she did +not like to complain. She ran on, though slowly, till at last Randolph +shouted to her to stop. Then she stood still waiting till he called to +her again, for he and Rosalys took some time to settle how much of a +start Alie was to have--from where she stood, Biddy heard them talking +and measuring. + +'I wish they wouldn't run races,' thought the little girl. 'They're so +big compared with me--they've such much longer legs. I shan't like +Seacove if they're going always to run races. In London they couldn't in +the streets; it was only when we went in the gardens, and that wasn't +every day, it was too far to go. I wish I had a brother or a sister +littler than me; it's too much difference between Alie and me, thirteen +and eight. I wish----' + +But here came a whoop from behind. + +'Off, Biddy; look sharp--one, two, three.' + +Poor Biddy--off she set as fast as she _could_ go, which is not saying +much. She puffed and panted, for she was not without a spirit of her own +and did not want to be overtaken _too_ soon. And for a time Rough's +cries of encouragement, 'Gee-up, old woman,' 'Famous, Biddy,' 'You'll +win yet,' and so on, spurred her to fresh exertions. But not for long; +she felt her powers flagging, and as first Alie and then Rough, both +apparently as fresh as ever, passed her at full speed, she gave in. + +'It's no use. I can't run races. I wish you wouldn't make me,' she said, +as in a minute or two the two others came flying back again to where she +stood, a convenient goal for their return race. + +'But you ran splendidly for a bit,' said Randolph; 'and I'll tell you +what, Biddy, it would be a very good thing for you to run a good deal +more than you do. It'll make you grow and stop you getting too fat.' + +'I'm not fatter than you were when you were as little as me, Roughie. +Nurse says so--you were a regular roundabout till you had the measles; +mamma says so too,' replied Bridget philosophically. + +'I'm quite hot,' said Rosalys; 'fancy being hot in January! But we'd +better not stand still or we'll get a chill. Isn't it nice to come out +alone? I'd like to walk to Seacove--I want to see what it's like, but of +course we mustn't go so far. Mamma said we must stay on the shore.' + +'If it was summer we might dig and make sand-castles,' said Biddy +regretfully. Digging in the sand was an amusement much more to her taste +than running races. + +'I think that's stupid--it's such baby play,' Rosalys replied. 'But come +on, do. I'm going to climb up to the top of that bank--that's the +sand-hills papa was speaking about.' + +It was more tiring work than she had expected. Before they got to the +top of the bank Alie had decided that they would have done better to +remain where they were, on the smooth firm sand down below, but once at +the top she changed again. What fun can be more delightful than playing +in sand-hills, jumping from a miniature summit to the valley beneath +with no fear of hurting one's self even if one comes to grief and rolls +ignominiously as far as one can go! How helplessly one wades in the +shifting, unstable footing--tumbling over with a touch, like a house +built of cards! The children's laughter sounded merrily in the clear +cold air; Bridget plunged about like a little porpoise in the water, and +Rosalys quite forgot that she had attained the dignity of her teens. + +But a bell ringing suddenly some little way off caught their ears. + +'That's papa ringing,' said Randolph. 'He said he'd have the big +dinner-bell rung when it was time for me to go in. I'm going to walk to +the town or the village, or whatever it is, with him. Good-bye, +girls. It's only three o'clock--you can stay another half-hour,' and off +he ran. + +'Let's go down to the shore again,' said Alie. 'Mamma said _perhaps_ +she'd come out a little, and she'd never see us up here.' + +Bridget hung back a little. + +'I daresay she won't come out,' she said. 'Do stay up here, Alie. If +mamma comes out she'll only talk to you and I'll be all alone. I don't +want her.' + +'Oh, Bride, that's not nice. I'm sure mamma likes to talk to you too, +only you see I'm older, and there's often things you wouldn't understand +about perhaps, and----' + +'I know--it's always the same. I'm too little to be any use. I know +you're older and sensibler, and I don't mean that mamma's not kind. But +families should be settled better--and--oh, Alie, I have so torn my +frock, and it's my afternoon one--my new merino.' + +[Illustration: '--and--oh, Alie, I have so torn my frock, and its my +afternoon one--my new merino.' P. 27.] + +Rosalys looked much concerned. + +'_What_ a pity!' she exclaimed. 'I wish we hadn't played in the sand. +But really, Biddy, you are very unlucky. I've been jumping just as much +as you, and I've got no harm.' + +'You never do--I don't know how it is that I always get torn,' said +Bride dolefully. 'And oh, Alie, there is mamma'--they were down on the +shore by this time, coming down being a much speedier affair than +climbing up,--'she will be so vexed, for I've got this frock new, extra +to yours, you know, because of the stain on the other the day I spilt my +tea all down it. I am so sorry, Alie. Could you pin it up?' + +Rosalys stooped to examine the damage. It was not _very_ great, still +under the circumstances of its being a new frock, it was vexing enough. + +'You've got it so sandy, too--that makes it look worse,' said the elder +sister, giving the unlucky skirt a shake as she spoke. + +'I wish mamma hadn't come out,' said Bridget. 'Then I could have got it +brushed and mended before I told her, but perhaps it's best to tell at +once,' and she gave a little sigh. + +'Much best,' her sister agreed, and they went on to meet their mother. +Suddenly Bride gave a little cry of satisfaction. + +'Oh, Smut's with mamma,' she exclaimed. 'I'm so glad. You can walk with +mamma alone then, Alie, and Smut and I will come after you. I'm always +quite happy with Smuttie--I wish he was my very own.' + +It was rather unlucky that just as they got up to Mrs. Vane, Bridget was +so occupied in calling to Smut, who came careering forward to meet the +girls, that the dilapidated frock went quite out of her mind. At the +first moment her mother did not notice it. + +'Well, dears, here I am!' she began brightly. 'I got my letters finished +more quickly than I expected. What a quantity of things there are to +order when one first comes to a new house! And I do so miss M'Creagh! +Did you see me coming, Alie darling?' + +'Yes, mamma--not very far off though. We were up on the sand-hills when +papa rang for Rough, and----' + +But Mrs. Vane interrupted her. + +'Oh, Bridget,' she exclaimed in a tone of vexation, 'what have you been +doing to yourself? Do you see, Alie? Her skirt is torn from top to +bottom--the stuff torn, not the seam. And so dirty. Your new frock +too--really, child, you are too provoking.' + +Biddy's round rosy face grew longer and redder, and her eyes filled with +tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but Rosalys came before her. + +'It isn't so very bad, dear mamma,' she said eagerly. 'I've been +looking at it. It looks worse because of the sand, but it isn't really +dirty; it will brush off. She rolled down one of the sand-hills. I'm +afraid it was my fault. It was my idea to play about there.' + +Mrs. Vane glanced at Alie's own garments. + +'Your frock is none the worse,' she said. 'I do not see that Bride need +have hurt hers if she had been the least careful. But you are so +incorrigibly heedless, Bridget, and _so_ thoughtless. Why, you were +dancing and jumping and calling to Smut when I met you as if there was +nothing the matter! I suppose you had forgotten all about your frock +already.' + +Mrs. Vane's voice was rather sharp as she spoke thus to the little girl. +It sounded quite differently from the bright sweet tone in which she had +greeted them. And it did not seem to suit her to speak sharply. She was +very pretty and sweet-looking, and she seemed young to be tall Alie's +mother; indeed, people often said they looked more like sisters: stout, +sturdy little Bridget was quite unlike them both. + +Rosalys looked up at her mother anxiously. She could not bear her to be +troubled, and though she was sorry for Bridget, she was vexed with her +too. She slipped her arm inside Mrs. Vane's and drew her on. + +'It's too cold to stand still, mamma dear,' she said. 'Let us walk on to +that beautiful smooth piece of sand--it's rather stony just here. Biddy, +take care of Smut.' + +That meant, 'You may stay behind and keep out of the way a little.' +Biddy had no objection to do so. + +'Come, Smuttie, stay by me,' she said coaxingly to the little shaggy +black dog. Smut was very fond of Bridget, who had a very big heart for +all dumb animals. He wagged his tail and looked up in her face with +inquiring sympathy, for he saw quite well that Biddy was in trouble. +This was nothing new; many and many a time had the little girl buried +her tearful face in his rough coat and sobbed out her sorrows to him. +They were never very big sorrows really, but they were big to her, and +rendered bigger by the knowledge in her honest little heart that they +were generally and mostly, if not entirely, brought about by her own +fault. + +She could not stoop down to cry on Smut's back now; it would have risked +considerable more dirtying of her poor frock. But she stayed some way +behind her mother and sister, so that she might talk without being +overheard by any one save her four-legged companion. + +'Smuttie,' she said, 'I'm very unhappy. This is only the second day at +Seacove and I've vexed mamma already. I made good resol---- never mind; +_you_ know what I mean, Smut--to begin new here, and it's all gone. I +don't know what to do, Smuttie, I truly don't. Alie means to be kind, +but it's quite easy for her to be good, I think. And it's no good me +trying. It really isn't, so I think I'll just leave off and be +comfortable.' + +Smut looked up and wagged his tail. He was quite ready to agree with +anything Biddy proposed, so long as she spoke cheerfully and did not +cry. + +'Good little Smuttie, kind little Smut,' said the child; 'you're so nice +and understanding always.' + +But Smut seemed restless; he fidgeted about in front of Bride, first +running a step or two, then stopping to wag his tail and look back +appealingly at her in an insinuating doggy way of his own. Biddy +pretended not to know what he meant, but she could not long keep up this +feint. + +'I do know what you want,' she said at last with a sigh. 'It's a scamper, +and I hate running, and I'm sure you know I do. But I suppose I must do +it to please you. You won't roar after me like Rough, anyway.' + +And off she set, her short legs exerting themselves valiantly for +Smuttie's sake. He of course could have run much faster, but he was far +too much of a gentleman to do so, and he stayed beside her, contenting +himself every now and then by stopping short to look up at her, with a +quick cheery bark of satisfaction and encouragement. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +A TRYING CHILD + + 'I think words are little live creatures, + A species of mischievous elves.' + _Child Nature._ + + +Bride and Smuttie did not overtake Mrs. Vane and Rosalys, for they were +running towards the sea, whereas the others were walking straight along +the shore. But the dog's bark and the sound once or twice of the child's +voice speaking to him came clearly through the still winter air. + +Mrs. Vane stopped for a moment and looked after them. She and Alie had +been talking about Bridget as they walked. + +'There she is again,' said her mother, 'as merry and thoughtless as can +be. That is the worst of her, Alie, you can make no impression on her.' + +'I don't think it's quite that, mamma,' Rosalys replied, 'though I know +it often seems so. She was really very, very sorry about her frock. And +she's so young--she's not eight yet, mamma.' + +'You were quite different at eight,' answered Mrs. Vane. 'Just +think--that time I was so ill and papa was away. You were barely seven, +and what a thoughtful, careful little body you were! I shall never +forget waking up early one morning and seeing a little white figure +stealthily putting coal on the fire, which was nearly out; taking up the +lumps with its own little cold hands not to make a noise. My good little +Alie!' and she stroked the hand that lay on her arm fondly. + +Rosalys smiled up at her. She loved her mother to speak so to her, but +still her heart was sore for Biddy. + +'I believe--I _know_ Biddy would be just as loving to you, mamma, if she +knew how,' she said. 'But it is true that she's very provoking. Perhaps +it would be different if she had brothers and sisters younger than +herself--then she'd _have_ to feel herself big and--as if it mattered +what she did.' + +'Responsible, you mean,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Yes, that is the best +training. But we can't provide small brothers and sisters ready-made for +Biddy, and I am very well contented with the three I have got! It might +be a good thing if she had some companions nearer her own age, but even +that has its difficulties. Just think of the scrapes she got into that +time I sent her to your aunt's for a fortnight! Why, she was sent home +in disgrace for--what was it for--I forget? Biddy's scrapes are so +many.' + +'For taking the two smallest children to bathe in the pond before +breakfast, wasn't it?' said Alie. + +'Oh yes--after having half killed their valuable Persian cat by feeding +it with cheese-cakes, or something of the kind,' added Mrs. Vane. + +But she could not help smiling a little. Alie had already seen that she +was softening; whenever mamma called Bridget 'Biddy,' she knew it was a +good sign. + +'There is one comfort,' said the elder sister, in her motherly way, +'Biddy has a _terribly_ kind heart. She is never naughty out of--out of +_naughtiness_. But oh, mamma, let us wait a minute; the sunset is +beginning.' + +And so indeed it was. Over there--far out, over the western sea, the +cold, quiet, winter sea, the sun was growing red as he slowly sank, till +he seemed to kiss the ocean, which glowed, blushing, in return. It was +all red and gray to-night--red and gray only, though there were grandly +splendid sunsets at Seacove sometimes, when every shade and colour which +light can show to our eyes shone out as if a veil were drawn back from +the mysterious glory we may but glimpse at. But the red and gray were +very beautiful in their way, and the unusual stillness, broken only by +the soft monotonous lap, lap, of the wavelets as they rippled themselves +into nothing on the sand, seemed to suit the gentle tones of the sky. +And some way off, nearer the sea, seeming farther away than they really +were, as they stood right in the ruddy trail of light, were two little +figures, both looking black by contrast, though in point of fact only +one was so. They were Bridget and Smut, both apparently absorbed in +admiring the sunset. + +'Isn't it beautiful, Smuttie?' Biddy was saying. 'It's the sun going to +bed, you know, dear.' + +Smut wagged his tail. + +'It's so pretty,' she continued, 'that it makes me think I'd like to be +good. P'raps I'd better fix to try again after all--what do you think, +Smut?' + +Repeated and more energetic tail-wagging, accompanied this time by a +short sharp bark. Smut has had enough of the sunset and standing still; +he wants to be off again. But Bride interprets his response in her own +way. + +'You think it would be better?--thank you, dear, for saying so. You are +so nice, Smut, for always understanding. Well, I will then, and I'll +begin by telling mamma I'm dreadfully sorry about my frock. Good-night, +sun--I wish I lived out in the lighthouse--one could see the sun right +down in the sea out there, I should think. I wonder if he stays in the +sea all night till he comes up at the other side in the morning? No--I +don't think he can though, for it says in my jography that it's sunshine +at the other side of the world when it's night here, so he can't stay in +the sea. I must ask Alie--p'raps it's not the same sun as in London.' + +She turned, followed by Smut, who, failing to persuade her to another +scamper, consoled himself by poking his nose into the sand in search of +unknown dainties which I fear were not to be found. The pair came up to +Mrs. Vane and Rosalys, who seemed to be waiting for them. + +'Mamma,' Biddy began, in a very contrite tone, 'I've been thinking and +I want to tell you I am truly and really very, _very_ sorry about my +frock. I didn't mean not to seem sorry. I can't think how it got torn, +for Alie didn't tear hers, and she was playing about just the same.' + +'I don't know either, Biddy,' said her mother. 'It is just the old +story, you must be more careful. Perhaps, to go back to the beginning, +it would have been better to change to an old frock if you meant to romp +about; _or_, it would have been better still perhaps, not to romp when +you knew you had a good frock on.' + +'That was my fault, mamma,' Alie put in. + +'Well, we must try and get the mischief repaired, and let us hope it +will be a reminder to you, Biddy, every time you wear this frock.' + +Bridget murmured something; she meant to be very good. But when she got +a little behind her mother and Alie again she gave herself a shake. + +'I shouldn't like that at all,' she thought. 'I should hate this frock +if it was always to remind me. I think mamma is rather like the mamma in +_Rosamund_ when she speaks that way, and I'm like Rosamund on her day of +misfortunes, only all my days are days of misfortunes. But I do think +I'm nicer than she was.' + +As they reached the edge of the shore, where a gate opened into a +pathway through a field to the Rectory itself, Mrs. Vane stopped to look +across once more at the sunset. + +'Yes, he is just going--just. Look, children.' + +Alie turned too, but Biddy walked on. + +'I don't want to look again,' she said. 'I've said good-night to him +once.' + +Mrs. Vane glanced at Rosalys. + +'What's the matter now?' her glance seemed to say. + +Rosalys smiled back. + +'It isn't naughtiness,' she whispered. 'It's only some fancy.' + +And so it was. + +'I said good-night to him when I'd fixed to try to be good,' Bride was +saying to herself, 'and if I look at him again now it'll undo the +fixing. Besides, I've begun to feel a little naughty again already--I +don't like Rosamund's mamma.' + +As they walked up the path, Smut, who was really Mrs. Vane's dog and had +got his own ideas as to etiquette, returned to his mistress's side and +trotted along gravely. He knew that his chances of scampers were over +for the day, for not even the most ardent runner could have crossed the +field at full speed without coming to grief. It was rough and stony, +and to call it a field was a figure of speech; the soil was nothing but +sand, and the grass was of the coarsest. But the Rectory stood on rather +rising ground, and old Dr. Bunton and his wife had fortunately been fond +of gardening. The lawn on the farther side of the house was very +respectable, and more flowers and shrubs had been coaxed to grow than +could have been expected. Still, to newcomers fresh from a comfortable +town-house--and there is no denying that as far as comfort goes a +town-house in winter has many advantages over a small country one--it +did look somewhat dreary and desolate. All the brightness had gone out +of the sky by now; it loomed blue-gray behind the chimneys, and a faint +murmuring as of wind in the distance getting up its forces began to be +heard. + +Mrs. Vane shivered a little. + +'I do hope your father and Randolph will be in soon,' she said. 'It may +be very mild here, but it strikes me as chilly all the same. I really +don't think it is wise to stay out so late, and it has been so almost +unnaturally still all day, I shouldn't wonder if it was setting in for +stormy weather.' + +Biddy's eyes sparkled. + +'I would so like,' she was beginning, but she suddenly checked herself. +'Are there always shipwrecks when there's storms?' she asked. + +'I fear so,' her mother replied. + +'Then I mustn't like storms, I suppose,' said the child. 'It's very +tiresome--everything's made the wrong way.' + +'Bridget, take care what you're saying,' Mrs. Vane said almost sternly. + +Biddy's face did not pucker up, but a dark look came over it, taking +away all the pleasant brightness and the merry eagerness of the gray +eyes. She did not often look like that, fortunately, for it made her +almost ugly. And though her face cleared a little after a while, still +it was gloomy, like the darkening sky outside, when she followed Alie +downstairs to tea, after they had taken off their things and the torn +frock had been changed. + +Things had hardly got into their regular order yet at Seacove Rectory. +The Vanes had only been there three days, and every one knows that the +troubles of a removal, especially to a considerable distance, are very +much aggravated when it takes place in midwinter. It was not to be +wondered at that 'mamma' felt both tired and rather dispirited. She was +a little homesick too, for mammas can feel homesick as well as both boys +and girls; and indeed I would not take upon myself to say that 'papas' +are quite above this weakness either. Christmas time had been spent at +Mrs. Vane's old home, a warm, cheery, old-fashioned country-house, where +grandpapa and grandmamma were still hale and hearty, and never so happy +as when surrounded by their grandchildren. This old home of mamma's was +within easy access of London too; no wonder, therefore, that the remote +seaside rectory seemed a kind of exile to Mrs. Vane, though the reasons +that had made Mr. Vane accept the offer of Seacove had been very +important ones. + +Rosalys, and Randolph too, though in a less thoughtful way, understood +all this, and both of the elder children were anxious to help and cheer +their parents to the best of their ability. And as all children love +change, and most children enjoy, for a time at least, the freedom and +independence of the country, it was much less trying for them than for +their father and mother. To Bridget the idea of coming to live +altogether at the seaside was one of unmixed pleasure. She dearly loved +the sea, and all she had hitherto known of it was in pleasant summer +weather, and at a bright amusing little place called Rockcliffe. +Seacove was certainly not exactly what she had expected; still, +sand-hills and a great stretch of splendid shore were not to be +despised. I feel sure, however, that young as she was she would have +sympathised with her mother, and tried 'extra' hard not to vex her, had +she known more about it all. But very little had been explained to her; +indeed, Rosalys had been forbidden to say much about the reasons for the +change to her little sister. 'She is such a baby for her age, and so +heedless,' said Mrs. Vane. In treating Bride thus, I think her mother +made a mistake. + +The children's tea was laid out in the dining-room, for the schoolroom +was still in a chaotic state, and Miss Millet, the governess, was not +coming back for another week yet. And in the meantime mamma, and papa +too, sometimes had tea with the little girls and Randolph. + +The fire was burning brightly and the table looked inviting when Mrs. +Vane came downstairs. Alie had hurried down to see to it all; she knew +what a difference a little care makes sometimes--how a crumpled-looking +table-cloth or untidily placed dishes will add to low spirits when any +one is not feeling as bright and cheerful as usual. There were still +some of grandmamma's good things, which she had had packed in a hamper +for the first start at the new rectory--home-made cakes and honey and +fresh butter, the very sight of which made one hungry! + +Rosalys glanced at her mother, and was pleased to see that the sweet +face looked rather brighter and less anxious as she stood for a moment +at the fire warming her hands. + +'There is one comfort in this house, inconvenient though it is in many +ways,' said Mrs. Vane, 'the chimneys don't smoke. And close to the sea +as it is, one could scarcely have wondered if they had done so. If only +it really does your father as much good as the doctors said, I am sure +I shall get to like it.' + +'Yes indeed,' Alie agreed. 'Mamma dear, won't you sit down and let me +pour out your tea?' + +'The wind is really rising,' said Mrs. Vane. 'I wish they would come +in--papa and Rough. It would be such a pity if he caught cold,' she +added with a little sigh. + +Something in the tone and the sigh caught Biddy's attention. She was +sitting at the table more silent than usual, very much absorbed, in +fact, with her own grievances. What did mamma mean? + +'Is papa ill?' she asked abruptly. + +Alie glanced at her, frowning slightly. Her mother turned quickly. + +'What a strange question to ask, Bride,' she said; 'it is just like +you--you cannot but know that papa is not at all strong.' + +Biddy looked puzzled. 'Strong' to her meant vaguely being able to lift +heavy weights, or things of that kind. + +'I didn't know he was _ill_,' she replied. 'I didn't know big people +were ill except for going to die, like our 'nother grandmamma. Papa's +had the measles and chicken-pox when he was little, hasn't he? I thought +it was only children that could be ill to get better like that.' + +Mrs. Vane glanced at Rosalys in a sort of despair. But before Alie could +say anything to smooth matters, her mother called Bridget from her seat +and made her stand before her. + +'Bridget,' she said, 'I don't know what to say to you. Have you no heart +or feeling at all? How _can_ you say such things. I do not believe in +your not understanding; you can understand when you choose, and you are +nearly eight years old. You must know how miserably anxious I have been +and still am about your father; you _must_ know it is for his health we +have come to this strange, dreary place, away from every one we care +for, and you can talk in that cold-hearted, cold-blooded way about dying +and not getting better and--and----' Mrs. Vane's voice trembled and +quivered. She seemed almost as if she were going to cry. Alie came and +stood beside her, gently putting her arm round her mother and looking +daggers at Bride. Mamma was nervous and over-tired, she knew; she had +had so much to go through lately. How could Biddy be so naughty and +unfeeling? And yet, as the words passed through her mind, Rosalys +hesitated. Biddy was not really unfeeling--it was not the word for her. +It was more as if she would not take the trouble to feel or to +understand anything that was not her own special concern; there was a +queer kind of laziness about her, which led to selfishness. It was as if +her mind and heart were asleep sometimes. + +But she could feel. Her face was all puckered up now; there was no +temper or sullenness about it, but real pale-faced distress. + +'Mamma,' she said brokenly, 'I didn't, oh, truly, I didn't mean it that +way. I know papa isn't old enough to die; but I thought he was too big +to be ill like that.' + +'Biddy,' said Alie sternly, 'you are talking nonsense again. You know +big people are ill often, and sometimes they get better and sometimes +they die. Don't you remember Mrs. Hay--Meta Hay's mamma? She was ill +and----' + +'Yes, I quite forgot,' exclaimed Biddy eagerly; 'I didn't think. Yes, +Meta's mamma was very ill, and she died. I wish I'd remembered; and she +wasn't at all old like Grandmamma Vane.' + +She spoke almost cheerfully. Again Mrs. Vane glanced at her elder +daughter. + +'It's no use,' she was beginning, but Alie interrupted. How she wished +the unfortunate Mrs. Hay had not been the first instance to occur to +her! + +'_Children_ get ill and die too sometimes,' Alie went on, 'and big +people very often get better. There was Captain Leonard next door to us +at home----' + +'And--I know--the boy-that-brought-the-potatoes' papa,' cried Biddy. 'I +_am_ so glad I thought of him. I was in the kitchen one morning fetching +sand for Tweetums's cage and he came in, and cook asked how was his +papa, and he said, "Finely better, I thank ye, mum." I think cook said +he was a _Hirish_ boy,' Bridget hurried on in her excitement--and when +she was excited I am afraid her 'h's' were apt to suffer--Mrs. Vane +gasped! 'I am _so_ glad I thought of him. Papa will get better like the +potato boy's father. I'll say it in my prayers. Dear mamma, I won't +forget. And I _will_ try to be good and not tear my frocks nor speak +without thinking.' + +The tears were coming now, but Biddy knew mamma did not like her to +begin to cry, and truly it was no wonder, for once she began it was by +no means easy to say when she would leave off! She choked them down as +well as she could. And the little face, hot and flushed now, was timidly +raised to her mother's for a kiss of forgiveness. + +It was not refused, but a sigh accompanied it, which went to the child's +heart. But there was no time for more, as at that moment the hall door +was heard to open and Mr. Vane's and Rough's voices sounded outside. + +Quite subdued, desperately penitent, Bridget went back to her place. Her +head was full as well as her heart. She had so many things to think over +that she felt as if she could not eat. First and foremost was the +strange newly awakened anxiety about her father. She looked at him as he +came in as she had never looked at him before, almost expecting to see +some great and appalling change in his appearance. But no--he seemed +much as usual--his face was indeed reddened a little by his brisk walk +in the chill air, and his voice was as cheery as ever. Biddy gave a +loud, most audible sigh of relief. Mr. Vane started and interrupted +himself in the middle of a lively account of the adventures he and +Randolph had met with in their walk. + +'My dear Biddy,' he said. 'What _can_ you have to sigh about in that +appalling way?' + +Bridget opened her mouth as if to speak, but Rosalys, trembling as to +what she might not be going to say, interrupted. + +'Please, papa, don't ask her just now,' she said; 'do go on telling us +about what sort of a place Seacove is,' and she added in a whisper, as +she gave a little private tug to his sleeve, 'Biddy's been +rather--tiresome, and if she begins to cry----' + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +BIDDY HAS SOME NEW THOUGHTS + + 'O, children take long to grow.' + JEAN INGELOW. + + +Mr. Vane nodded in token of comprehending Alie's hint. + +'You must walk to Seacove to-morrow and see it for yourselves,' he said. + +'That is to say if it is fine,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Doesn't it look stormy +to-night?' + +'The wind is getting up, but that one must expect at this time of the +year, and a good blow now and then won't hurt the girls. I feel ever so +much the better for the touch of it we had this afternoon. I'm certain +it is a very healthy place.' + +Mrs. Vane smiled a little. + +'I have noticed that that is generally said of places that have nothing +else to recommend them. But no,' she went on, 'I must not begin by +finding fault. If it proves to us a health-giving place I certainly +shall like it, whatever else it is or is not. Did you go into the church +this afternoon?' + +'Just for a moment. Rough wanted to glance at it,' Mr. Vane replied, his +tone sounding rather less cheerful. + +'It looked very dingy and dismal,' Randolph said. 'It's all high pews +and high-up windows, you know, mamma. Papa says it must have been built +at the very ugliest time for churches, before they began to improve at +all.' + +'And there is nothing to be done to it,' said Mr. Vane. 'Even if we +could attempt it and had the money, there would be endless difficulties +in the way of prejudice and old associations to overcome.' + +'And it is not as if we were really settled here,' said the children's +mother. 'You must not take the church to heart, Bernard; you could +scarcely expect anything better in a place like this.' + +'No--it will be slow work to bring about any improvement in outlying +places of this kind certainly,' Mr. Vane agreed. Then he brightened up a +little. 'There is a very good organ, and I met the organist. He seems +very hearty and eager.' + +'That's a good thing. How did you come across him?' asked Mrs. Vane. + +'We went to the stationer's to order the newspapers. I might of course +have had them straight from town, but I think it is right to get what +one can in the place, and it helps me to get to know the people a +little. The organist--Redding is his name--was in the shop; I fancy he's +a bit of a gossip, for he looked rather guilty when we went in, just as +if they had been talking about us, and then he introduced himself. He's +coming up to have a talk with me to-morrow.' + +'It is quite a nice shop,' said Randolph. 'I expect it has some of the +College custom. I saw some books with the College crest on lying about. +You can get painting things there, Alie,' he added. + +Rosalys looked interested, and Biddy's face grew some degrees less long. + +'Is there a toy-shop?' she asked. + +'There's better than a toy-shop--a wonderful sort of place they call a +bazaar,' Rough replied. 'You may walk all round and look at the things +without having to buy, and there's one part where all the toys are only +a penny.' + +Biddy clasped her hands in ecstasy. + +'Oh, mamma,' she said, '_may_ we go and see it to-morrow? Oh, I'm sure +Seacove is ever so much nicer than London!' + +Mr. Vane smiled. + +'How many pennies have you got to spend, Biddy?' he said. + +Biddy's face sobered again, and the corners of her mouth went down. + +'I've got two,' she said in a very meek voice, 'and there would have +been another to-morrow, that's Saturday, if--I--hadn't----' + +'What?' asked Mr. Vane. + +'Tore my frock,' said Biddy very slowly. + +'_Torn_, if you please,' said her father. 'Well, suppose mamma lets you +off as it's the first Saturday at Seacove, that will be threepence, and +suppose I give you three pennies more, that will be sixpence--with +sixpence you could make important purchases at the penny counter, could +she not, Rough?' + +'Certainly, I should say,' Randolph replied. + +Bridget's face crimsoned with pleasure. She got up from her seat and ran +round to the arm-chair by the fire where Mr. Vane was quietly sipping +his tea, and at the imminent risk of throwing it all over him, flung her +arms round his neck. + +'Oh, thank you, papa, _dear_ papa,' she said, 'dear, dear papa, and I do +_so_ hope you'll be like the boy-that-brought-the-potatoes' papa, and +I'm going always to be good now, always.' + +Poor Mr. Vane disengaged himself and his tea-cup with some difficulty +from his little daughter's embraces. To his surprise, when he could +manage to see her face, there were tears in her eyes. He was touched but +at the same time rather apprehensive; it was ticklish work when Biddy's +floodgates were opened. + +'My poor little woman,' he said; 'yes, it's quite right to make good +resolutions. But, remember, Rome wasn't built in a day, Bride; you'll +have to keep up your courage and go on trying. But what's all that about +boys and potatoes?' + +Biddy grew red; she felt by instinct that she must not tell over all the +conversation; mamma would be vexed. + +'I only meant----' and she hesitated. + +'Biddy knew a little greengrocer boy in London who was very fond of his +father,' said Rosalys quickly. + +'Never mind about that just now,' Mrs. Vane added. 'I have several +things I want to ask you about your study. If you have finished your +tea, will you come in there with me? The work-people about here are +rather stupid, I'm afraid, Bernard. They don't the least understand +about the book-shelves.' + +'Don't worry yourself about it,' Mr. Vane replied. 'Things will get +straight by degrees. I'm afraid you have much more trouble now that +M'Creagh's gone.' + +M'Creagh was Mrs. Vane's 'old maid,' as the children called her. She had +been with her since Mrs. Vane's childhood, and had lately given up her +right to the title by getting married, to the great regret of everybody +except, I _fear_, Biddy. For M'Creagh had 'managed' the little girl in a +wonderful way; that is to say, she had kept her in order, and Biddy very +much preferred being left to her own devices. + +Mrs. Vane sat down on the low couch--one end of which was covered with +piles of books,--they were in the study by this time. + +'Yes,' she said, 'I miss M'Creagh, but my real trouble just now, +Bernard, is Biddy. I am afraid I don't take the right way with her, +somehow. She is so tiresomely heedless and provoking, and sometimes +I really wonder if she has any heart.' + +Mr. Vane looked up in surprise, in which there was a little touch of +indignation, at this. Fresh from Bridget's loving hugs and the sight of +the tears in her eyes, he could hardly be expected to agree with this +opinion of her. + +'My dear,' he said, 'I think you are not fair upon her. I really can't +help saying so. The poor child is heedless and provoking to a degree, +but she is very affectionate.' + +Mrs. Vane did not seem annoyed; she was, on the contrary, rather glad of +what Mr. Vane said. + +'Yes, she seems so sometimes, and I hope it is only her +childishness--but it is so impossible to make any lasting impression on +her. And I don't see how things are to improve with her. Rosalys was a +perfect little woman at her age. Bridget thinks of _nothing_--I have +seen it so much since we came here and during the bustle of the removal +from London. She lives like a complete baby--perhaps it is partly that +Alie is so unusually thoughtful and helpful, a real right-hand to me, +and Rough too for a boy is very sensible. So Biddy goes her own way, +nothing is expected of her, and she certainly fulfils the expectation,' +she wound up with a half smile. + +Mr. Vane sat silent. + +'She might be better with some companionship of her own age,' he said +in a few minutes. 'The give-and-take of even childish companionship is a +kind of training and discipline. As it is, she is almost like an only +child. Now, if Alie were away for a while, Bridget would have to try to +take her place.' + +'I could not do without Alie, not just now certainly,' said Mrs. Vane +decidedly. 'We must just hope that somehow time will improve Bridget.' + +'And don't be too hard on her,' said her father. 'I feel sure she means +well.' + +'When she means anything,' replied Mrs. Vane; 'but she seldom thinks +enough for that.' + +'I don't know about that,' said Mr. Vane doubtfully, 'still----' + +But then something in the arrangement of the book-shelves caught his +eye, and no more was said of Biddy for the time. + +Papa did not forget. Bridget got her fourpence the next day, a penny +from mamma and threepence from papa. And all troubles were thrown to the +winds, torn frocks and everything disagreeable forgotten, when she set +off with Rosalys and Randolph, under their maid's charge, for a visit to +Seacove, the wonderful bazaar being the real object of the walk. + +Only a very slight misgiving came over her as papa stooped to kiss her +in the doorway; they met him on their way out. + +'Be a sensible little woman to-day, my Biddy,' he said, 'and don't get +into any scrapes to worry your mamma.' + +The child looked up into his face. Was it the yellowish morning light +from over the sea--for it was clear and bright though cold--that made +papa's face so pale? And yesterday he had looked so nice and rosy--Biddy +felt rather strange; for the first time in her little life there came +over her a faint, very faint shadow of _the_ shadow which, as we grow +older, we learn cannot be avoided; the wings of the solemn angel seemed +for an instant to brush her softly. Biddy trembled without understanding +why. + +'Papa, dear papa,' she said, but somehow no other words would come. + +He kissed her again, and he smiled. It seemed to brighten up his face. +Bridget gave a sigh of relief: the potato boy's papa had got well, and +very likely he too looked pale sometimes. Still that strange breath of +feeling had left some result. + +'Alie,' she said, as she trotted down the garden path beside her sister, +the sixpence tightly clasped in her hand, 'is there anything I could get +for a present for two of my pennies? I want to get some of the toys for +myself with papa's three pennies, and I want to get a thimble with one, +'cos I've lost mine, and my workbox is messy-looking.' + +'You can't get a proper one for a penny, not a silver one, and mamma +says imitation ones are bad to wear,' said Rosalys. 'I've got my first +thimble that's too small now--it's real silver. I'll give it you, and +that'll leave you threepence for your present. But who's it for?' + +'Three pennies won't do,' said Biddy. 'It must be two pennies, 'cos it's +for papa, and he gave me three pennies, and it would just be like giving +it him back again.' + +Rosalys and Randolph glanced at each other. They could scarcely believe +it was thoughtless Biddy speaking. + +'Yes, I quite understand,' said Alie. 'Let's see--what could you get for +papa? Can't you help us, Rough?' + +Rough considered deeply. + +'A purse--no, that would be too dear--or an inkstand?' he said. + +'I'm sure an inkstand would be far dearer,' said Alie sharply. 'You're +no good, Rough. I daresay we'll see something there, Biddy dear. I'll +not forget.' + +Bride felt very pleased. She was in high favour with Rosalys, she could +see. She began jumping up and down the little grass-covered sandy +hillocks that bordered the road, scarcely more than a cart-track, across +the common between the Rectory and the little town. + +'There's a shorter way if we turn, a little farther on,' said Rough. 'We +can either get on to the road above the shore--it's a proper road--or +cut across a very sandy place, much sandier than the common.' + +'No,' said Alie, 'I'd rather go along the road even if it's farther. +Walking on sand is so tiresome, and spoils one's boots so. Biddy, I +think you'd better walk quietly: remember what papa said, and you know +you are rather unlucky.' + +It was pleasant walking along the firm, hard road, and the fresh air was +exhilarating--the sunshine, thin and wintry though it was, gilded palely +the little shallow lakes and pools left by the outgoing tide along the +shore, for it was almost low water now. Even the bare stretches of sand +did not look ugly, as they sometimes do--a touch of sunshine makes all +the difference! And the even stony path--a sort of natural breakwater +running out towards the lighthouse--here and there caught a gleam or two +from the sky. + +'It looks quite different to last night,' said Alie. 'That's one thing +I like the seaside for; it's always changing.' + +'And the wind's gone down with the tide,' said Randolph, 'though it did +blow last night. There'll be rough weather before long, everybody says.' + +'I _would_ so like to be in the lighthouse if there was a storm,' said +Biddy. 'That isn't naughty to wish, Alie, for the lighthouse is to keep +away shipwrecks. And if there just _was_ one, you know, it _would_ be +nice to be there to help the poor wet people, and carry them in to the +fire, and rub them dry with hot blankets, like in that story, you know.' + +'A lot you'd be able to carry,' said Rough contemptuously. 'Why, you're +so fat and roundabout, and your legs are so short you can scarcely carry +yourself.' + +'Rough,' began Rosalys warningly. And + +'_Alie_,' began Bridget at the same moment in her whining tone, 'do +listen to him.' + +But a peremptory 'Hush' from Randolph checked her. Both the girls looked +up. A short, rather stout, pleasant-faced man was at that moment +overtaking them. + +'Good-morning, sir,' he said as he passed, and 'Good-morning, Mr. +Redding,' returned Rough courteously, as the other lifted his hat. +Rough had very nice manners. + +'That is Redding, the organist,' said Rough. 'He's something else as +well--a tailor or a draper----' + +'"A butcher, a baker, or candlestick-maker,"' interrupted Rosalys +laughingly. She did not mean to make fun of good Mr. Redding, but she +wanted to make the others laugh too, to restore their good humour. + +'Well, something, any way,' Randolph went on. 'Papa says he's an awfully +good sort of man; he gives all his spare time to the organ for nothing.' + +'That's very nice,' said Alie approvingly. + +They were near the actual town of Seacove by this time--town or village, +it was difficult to say which, though the rows of tall masts a little +way off in the docks and the paved streets hardly seemed to suit the +idea of a village. And a few minutes more brought them to what was +ambitiously called the 'Parade,' where stood the long low bazaar, with a +large placard at the door announcing that 'entrance' was 'free.' + +In summer the bazaar blossomed out into twice its winter size, thanks to +a tentlike canvas front; at present it was a building of not very +imposing appearance. But it was long in proportion to its width, and one +or two gas-jets lighted up the innermost end, even in the daytime. This +gave it a rather mysterious air, and added much to Biddy's admiration. + +'It's a _lovely_ place,' she whispered to the others in an almost +awestruck tone. Rough felt much gratified; he considered the bazaar his +own 'find.' He set to work very graciously to do the honours of it, and +led the way slowly between the two sloping-upwards counters or tables at +each side, on which were arranged the more important and expensive +wares--china vases, glass, English and foreign, some of it really quaint +and uncommon, such as was not, in those days at least, to be often met +with in regular shops, workboxes and desks of various kinds; +papier-mache writing-books, a few clocks; jewelry, a little real, a +great deal imitation, in glass-lidded cases; and so on. And down the +centre stood groups of walking-sticks, camp-stools, croquet-sets, and +such like. + +'Usefuller' things, as Biddy afterwards told her mother, were not +wanting either. Hair-brushes and combs, metal teapots, and lots of gaily +painted trays were among them. And some very magnificent dolls gazed +down with their bright unblinking eyes at the whole from a high +position, where they and the larger, more costly toys were placed. + +It was all very imposing, very breath-taking-away, and Biddy's eyes +were very eager and her mouth wide open as she trotted after Alie. For +London shops were not as magnificent forty years ago as they are now; +and, besides it was not often that the little Vanes had paid a visit to +Cremer's or the arcades, which are children's delight. And then it was +here so delightfully uncrowded and quiet. The shopwoman, knowing who +they were, felt not a little honoured by their prompt visit, and beyond +a civil 'Good-morning, young ladies,' left them free to stare about and +admire as they chose. + +But they did not linger long before the objects which they knew to be +quite beyond their reach. It was the penny counter for which they were +really bound, and to which Rough piloted them with an air of great +pride. + +'There, now,' he said, waving his hand like a show-man; 'what do you say +to that, girls? All these things--everything you can see as far as +here--for a penny!' + +Biddy gasped; even Alie was impressed. + +'They're really very nice, Biddy,' she said. 'And oh, look, what nice +dolls' furniture! What a pity, Biddy, you don't care for dolls!' + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CELESTINA + + 'Little china tea-things and delightful dinner-sets; + Trumpets, drums, and baby-horses; balls in coloured nets.' + _What the Toys do at Night._ + + +Just as she said these words Rosalys became conscious that some one else +was standing beside her. She looked round. A little girl, simply but +neatly dressed, had come into the bazaar, and had made her way +noiselessly up to where the Rectory children stood. She was a slight, +delicate-looking child, taller than Bridget, though not seemingly much +older. She had large, earnest, perhaps somewhat wistful, brown eyes, +which made her face attractive and interesting when you looked at it +closely, though at first sight it was too small and pale to catch one's +attention. She stood there quietly and very grave, her eyes fixed on +Alie Vane's lovely and sweet face, yet without the slightest shadow of +forwardness or freedom in her gaze. An expression of great surprise, +mingled with a little pity, flitted across her when she heard the elder +girl's words--'What a pity, Biddy, you don't care for dolls!' and it was +with intense interest she listened to Bridget's reply. + +'I would care for them, Alie, if I had any one to play at them with me. +But you think you're too big--I think you've always thought yourself too +big--and Rough's a boy. So how could I care for dolls all alone?' + +Bride's voice had taken the peculiar little whine it always did when she +was at all put out. It was comical and yet a little irritating; but just +now neither Rosalys nor Randolph was inclined to be irritated. Alie only +laughed. + +'Well, I'm not forcing you to play with dolls, nor to buy them,' she +said. 'Only these little tiny chairs are so funny.' + +A voice behind her made her start. Yet it was a very soft, rather timid +little voice. + +'You can play much nicer with little dolls alone--a good many little +dolls--than with one or two big ones,' it said. + +Biddy turned round and stared at the small maiden. She did not mean to +be rude; she was only surprised and curious; but her rosy cheeks and +round eyes looked much less sweet and gentle than Alie's pretty face and +soft long-lashed blue eyes, which had always a rather appealing +expression. Biddy opened her mouth but did not speak. The little +stranger grew very red. Rosalys spoke to her gently. + +'Yes,' she said, 'I should think little dolls would be much more amusing +to play with alone. You could make them act things, and you could make +houses for them. Biddy, wouldn't you like to furnish our old doll-house +fresh?' + +'I don't know,' said Biddy rather surlily. 'You'd call me a baby.' + +'Indeed I wouldn't,' said Alie eagerly. 'It would be such a nice play +for you. You might buy two or three of those sweet little chairs as a +beginning.' + +'They are particular nice,' put in the shopwoman. 'It isn't often +they're made so small, not so cheap. And what were you wanting this +morning, my dear?' she went on to the little newcomer. + +'If you please, I want two of them--of the chairs,' the child replied, +holding out two pennies. Her face was still rather red, but she glanced +with admiration mingled with gratitude at Rosalys. + +The shopwoman handed her the two little chairs, but she did not seem +quite satisfied. + +'Would you like to choose for yourself?' said the woman with a smile. +She seemed used to the ways and manners of small customers--of this +small customer especially, perhaps--and she made way for her as the +little girl, well pleased, came close to the counter. Then for a minute +or two the child stood absorbed, weighing the comparative merits of blue +and pink cotton chair seats, and of dark and light coloured wood. At +last, with a little sigh of mingled anxiety and satisfaction, she held +out two to the woman. + +'These, please,' she said; and, without waiting for her purchases to be +wrapped up, she turned, and with a glance at the other children, a +shadowy smile for half an instant wavering over her face, she quietly +made her way out of the shop. + +'Poor little girl,' said Rosalys. 'You quite frightened her when she +spoke, Bridget. Why did you glare at her so?' + +'I didn't glare at her; you're very unkind, Alie, to say so,' said +Biddy, in her complaining tone. + +'Oh, I say, Biddy, don't be so grumpy,' Randolph put in, 'and do fix +what you're going to buy. There's something over here that papa would +like, I know. A whistle, such a jolly strong one, and only two-pence. It +would do for him to call me in by, and much less trouble than ringing +that clumsy bell.' + +Biddy went off to look at the whistle. It was a very neat one, in the +shape of a dog's head, and she at once decided upon it, for she had +great faith in Rough's opinion as to what papa would like. Then ensued +another weighty consultation at the penny stall, where Alie had meantime +bought a pair of tiny dolls, which she meant to dress in secret as a +'surprise' for her little sister--'it would be so nice if she took to +dressing dolls for herself,' she thought--and a yard measure for +herself. Bridget's perplexities ended in the purchase of one of the neat +little chairs and a small table and a tiny china dog. + +'They'd be pretty as ornaments on my mantelpiece even if I never have a +doll-house,' she said. 'And if I did have the doll-house done up, it +_must_ have a dog, to keep watch, you know, Alie.' + +At the entrance of the bazaar they ran against Mr. Redding. He looked +hot and hurried and was walking very fast, but at sight of them he +stopped suddenly, and then, came up to Randolph. + +'_Would_ you excuse me, sir,' he began, 'if I were to ask you a great +favour? I have just been at the Rectory to see Mr. Vane and I am +hurrying off to Brewton by the next train, for unfortunately there is +something wrong with one of the organ stops and I must get a man to come +over at once. It would never do not to be able to use the organ properly +the first Sunday Mr. Vane is here. I find it later than I thought, and +I had undertaken to leave this note at Mr. Fairchild's in Pier Street for +the rector. You will pass there on your way home, unless you +particularly want to go by Sandy Common?' + +'Oh no,' said Rough, 'we don't mind. Of course I'll leave it for you, +Mr. Redding. Is there an answer?' + +But Mr. Redding, having thrust the note into the boy's hands, was +already some paces off. He called out some rather incoherent reply, of +which 'thank you, thank you,' were the only intelligible words. + +'What a fussy little man,' said Alie. 'But papa said he was proud of his +organ, and it would be horrid at church without it. Which is Pier +Street, Rough, do you know?' + +'Not a bit of it--nor which is Mr. Fairchild's shop, or if it is a shop. +He only said at Mr. Fairchild's,' replied Randolph. 'I suppose any one +can tell us however; it's not like London.' + +The 'Parade' at its farther end turned into the docks. The children +walked on, tempted by the sight of the tall masts in front of them. + +'Wouldn't I like to see over some of those ships,' said Rough. Just then +a little group of sailors, looking little more than boys for the most +part, in spite of their bronzed and sunburnt skin, passed them, +chattering and whistling cheerily. They belonged to a vessel but newly +arrived from some southern port. One could see how happy they were to be +on English ground again--some of them maybe belonged to Seacove itself. + +'Would you like to be a sailor, Rough?' said Alie. + +Randolph hesitated. + +'No, I don't think so, but I like seeing ships and hearing about +voyages.' + +'_I'd_ like to be a sailor,' said Bridget suddenly. Rosalys and her +brother could not help laughing. + +'What a funny sailor you'd make,' they said. And indeed it was not easy +to imagine her short, compact, roundabout figure climbing up masts and +darting about with the monkey-like swiftness of a smart little middy. + +'I don't think you'd like it for long, Miss Biddy,' said Jane, the +young maid. 'I came once, in my last place, from Scotland by sea, and +though I wasn't at all ill, it was dreadful rough work. I was glad to +feel my feet on firm land again.' + +'Was it very stormy?' asked all the children together. 'And how long +were you in the ship? Oh, do tell us about it, Jane.' + +Jane's value rose immensely on the spot. She was not a particularly +lively girl generally, but this was quite a discovery. + +'Was it a very big ship?' asked Bridget, 'or quite a teeny-weeny one, +just big enough to hold all of us like?' + +'You stupid little goose,' said Rough. 'You mean a boat--a _ship_ is +never as little as that.' + +'Boats and ships is all the same,' Biddy persisted; 'and I heard papa +say there was a Scotch boat to Seacove twice a week--there now, Rough.' + +'Oh well--but that's only a way of speaking. Papa didn't mean a real +boat--a little boat. Now, if we could go down those steps right among +all the ships I'd soon show you the difference.' + +'But we mustn't, Rough,' said Alie anxiously. 'Not without papa or +somebody big--any way we must ask leave first.' + +'Well, I suppose it would hardly do for you girls,' Rough replied. 'But +of course papa would let _me_ go. He and I walked all round the docks +last night, and we should have gone to the end of the pier if----' + +'Oh, that reminds me,' said Rosalys. 'Haven't we passed Pier Street? +I believe that must be it opposite. Yes, I see it put up. Now we must +find out Mr. Fairchild's. Can't you ask somebody, Rough?' + +Randolph, though he would not have confessed it, was a little shy of +accosting any of the few passers-by. Just because there were so few and +the place was so quiet, the children felt themselves rather +uncomfortably conspicuous, and they could not help noticing that here +and there the inhabitants came rather unnecessarily to their doors to +look at them as they passed. It was not done rudely, and indeed it was +only natural that the arrival of a new rector and his family at Seacove +should attract a good deal of attention, considering that old Dr. Bunton +and his wife had been fixtures there for more years than Mr. Vane +himself had been in the world. + +'Oh yes,' said Rough in an off-hand way, 'I can ask any one. But we +may as well walk on a little and look about us. If it is a shop we'll +see the name.' + +Just then there came out of a shop in front of them--a baker's, I think +it was--a small figure which walked on slowly some paces before them. + +'That's the little girl of the dolls' chairs,' exclaimed Bridget. 'Shall +I run on and ask her? I don't mind.' + +'You never do,' said Alie, and indeed Biddy was most comfortably +untroubled with shyness. + +'Yes, run on and see if she knows where it is.' + +Off trotted Biddy, her precious purchases tightly clasped in her hands. + +'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the other child. + +[Illustration: 'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the +other child. P. 75.] + +The little girl turned, and looked at Biddy full in the face with her +grave earnest eyes without speaking. And for half a moment Bridget did +feel something approaching to shyness, but it gave her a comfortable +fellow-feeling to see that the small stranger was also still carrying +the little chairs she had bought. They were not done up in paper like +Biddy's--she had not waited for that,--but she had covered them loosely +with a very clean, very diminutive pocket-handkerchief, and Bridget saw +quite well what they were. + +'Please,' Biddy went on, slightly breathless--it did not take much to +put Biddy out of breath--'please can you tell us where Mr. Fairchild's +is in this street? Rough's got a letter for him, but we don't know if +it's a shop or only a house.' + +'Mr. Fairchild's,' repeated the little girl, 'he's my father; it's our +shop. I'll show it you,' and a faint pink flush of excitement came into +her pale face. These were the Rectory young ladies, she had been sure of +it when she saw them in the bazaar. Fancy--wouldn't mother be surprised +to see them coming in with her? And father, who had said she'd maybe +never see them. Was that the French ma'amselle with them?--and Celestina +glanced back at honest Jane Dodson, from 'grandmamma's' village, walking +along in her usual rather depressed fashion--if so, French ma'amselles +were very like English nurse-maids, thought her little observer. + +'How funny!' said Biddy, quite interested. And Celestina began to like +her better--she had been rather disappointed in Biddy at the bazaar. She +was not pretty, and Celestina, though she scarcely knew it, was very +much taken by beauty, and she had been rather, almost a little rude--at +least Celestina knew that _she_ would have been told she was rude had +she behaved as Bridget had done. But now she seemed so bright and +natural--'She is quite a little girl,' thought Celestina; 'and perhaps +if she's the youngest she's treated rather like a baby.' 'How _very_ +funny!' Biddy repeated. 'I must run back and tell Alie and Rough. And +have you a doll-house, little girl, and will you show it me? I've bought +a chair too and a table. Perhaps if I saw your doll-house and +teeny-weeny dolls I'd get to like to play with them too. We have a---- +Oh, Alie,' as Alie, surprised at the length and apparent friendliness of +the conversation proceeding between the two children, hastened up. 'Oh, +Alie, _isn't_ it funny? She's his little girl. The note's for her +house.' + +Rosalys turned her soft blue eyes full on Celestina. + +'How like an angel she is!' thought Celestina. + +'Who's?' said Alie. 'Do you mean Mr. Fairchild's? Why don't you explain +properly, Biddy?' + +'Yes, that's it,' said the stranger child. 'I'm Celestina Fairchild. +I'll show you the shop.' + +'Thank you,' said the elder girl. But Biddy would scarcely let her say +the two words. Her eyes were very open, looking rounder than ever. + +'_What_ a funny name!' she exclaimed. Biddy's collection of adjectives +did not seem to be a very large one. 'Do say it again; oh, please do.' + +'Biddy, I think you are rather rude,' said Alie severely. 'You wouldn't +like any one to say your name was funny.' + +'I didn't mean----' began Bridget as usual, but Celestina quietly +interrupted. + +'I don't mind; she's only a little girl. Don't be vexed with her,' she +said to Alie with a sort of childish dignity that seemed to suit her. 'I +think my name _is_ funny; mother called it me 'cos--, but p'raps we'd +better go on. I've been out a good while and mother might be wondering +what I was doing, and then if the letter for father matters much----' + +'Yes,' said Alie; 'you're quite right; we'd better be quick.' + +So the little party set off again up the street. Biddy and +Celestina--for now that Biddy's interest was awakened in the stranger +child she had no idea of giving her up to the others--in front; Rosalys +and her brother following; Jane Dodson, discreet and resigned, bringing +up the rear. + +They had not far to walk, but Bridget's tongue made the most of its +opportunities. + +'Have you got a doll-house, then?' she inquired of Celestina; and as the +little girl shook her head rather dolefully in reply, 'What do you get +furniture' (Biddy called it 'fenniture') 'for, then? Is it for +ornaments?' + +'No; I've got a room, though not a doll-house,' Celestina replied. 'It +once was a kitchen, but I played with it too much when I was little, and +the things got spoilt. So father did it up for me with new paper like a +parlour--a best parlour, you know. Not a parlour like you use every +day.' + +'I don't know what a parlour is,' said Biddy; 'we haven't got one at the +Rectory, and we hadn't one in London either. We've only got a +schoolroom, and a dining-room, and a droind-room, and a study for papa, +and----' + +'I forgot,' said Celestina. 'I remember mother told me that they don't +call them parlours in big houses. It's a drawing-room I mean; only the +dolls have their dinner in it, because I haven't got a dining-room. They +haven't any bedroom either; but I put them to bed in a very nice little +basket, with a handkerchief and cotton-wool. It's very comfortable.' + +'Yes?' said Bridget, greatly interested, 'and what more? Tell me, +please. It sounds so nice.' + +'Sometimes,' Celestina went on--'sometimes I take them to the +country--on the table, you know--and then I build them a house with +books. It does very well if it's only a visit to the country, but it +wouldn't do for a always house, 'cos it has to be cleared away for +dinner.' + +Biddy's mouth and eyes were wide open. + +'We have dinner in the dining-room with papa and mamma,' she said; 'so +we don't need to clear away off the schoolroom table except for tea. +That's in London. I don't know where we're to have tea here, when Miss +Millet comes back. Don't you have dinner with your papa and mamma--when +they have luncheon, you know?' + +In her turn Celestina stared. + +'I don't know how you mean. We all have dinner in the parlour,' she +said, 'like--like everybody. But this is our shop,' she added, stopping +and turning so as to face the others. 'If you please, miss,' she went on +to Rosalys, 'this is father's shop. If you'll come in, he'll be there.' + +Not a little surprised was Mr. Fairchild to see his daughter showing the +way in to the three children, whom he rightly and at once guessed to be +the new rector's family. Celestina looked quite composed; though so very +quiet and silent a child, she was neither shy nor awkward. She was too +little taken up with herself to have the foolish ideas which make so +many children bashful and unready: it never entered her head that other +people were either thinking of or looking at her. So she was free to +notice what she could do and when she was wanted, and her simple kindly +little heart was always pleased to render others a service, however +small. + +'Father,' she said in her soft voice; 'it is young Master Vane and the +young ladies with a letter for you.' + +Mr. Fairchild came forward, out from behind the counter. He made a +little bow to Rosalys, who was the foremost of the group, and a little +smile brightened his thin face as his eyes rested on hers. Every one was +attracted by Alie, and her voice was particularly gentle as she spoke to +Mr. Fairchild, for the first thought that darted through her mind was, +'How very ill he looks, poor man--much worse than papa.' + +'It is a letter for you, Mr. Fairchild,' she said. 'Mr. Redding asked my +brother to give it to you. It is from pa--from Mr. Vane.' + +'But I don't know if there is any answer,' said Rough. 'Redding didn't +say. Please see, will you?' + +Rosalys and Randolph and Jane in the doorway stood waiting while he +read. But Biddy's eyes were hard at work. She caught Celestina as she +was disappearing through an inner door. + +'Oh, please,' she said, 'don't go away. Won't you show me your dolls? +And oh, please, what _is_ that funny little window up there in the wall? +I would so like to look through it.' + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE WINDOW IN THE WALL + + 'Will you step into my parlour?' + _The Spider and the Fly._ + + +Celestina hesitated. She was anxious to be friendly to Bridget, and she +had a strong instinct of hospitality, but the little girl rather took +away her breath. Just at that moment, luckily, the door between the shop +and the parlour--a door in the corner behind the counter--opened, just a +little, enough to admit Mrs. Fairchild, who came in quietly. She had +heard voices in the shop, and thought she was probably needed there, +though at this time of the morning, especially when Celestina was out, +she had to be sometimes in the kitchen. + +'Celestina,' she exclaimed, surprised and not quite sure if she should +be pleased, 'what are you doing? You should have come in at once. I have +been expecting you.' + +Then her eyes fell on the three--or four--three and a half, one might +say, to be very correct--strangers in the shop, for Jane was still +wavering on the doorstep, one foot on the pavement outside and one +inside. + +'Won't you come in?' said Mrs. Fairchild to her civilly; 'it is a cold +morning--and then I could shut the door.' + +Jane moved inwards, though without speaking, and Rough darted forward +and shut the door carefully. + +'Thank you, sir,' said Mrs. Fairchild, with a little smile that lighted +up her whole face. She gave a half unconscious glance at her +delicate-looking husband, which explained her anxiety. Bridget drew near +her and looked up in her face. Somehow since Mrs. Fairchild had come in +every one seemed more friendly and at ease. + +'Are you Ce--Cel--the little-girl-in-the-bazaar's mamma?' asked Biddy. + +Mrs. Fairchild smiled again. + +'Yes,' she said, touching Celestina on the shoulder, 'I am _her_ mother. +Did you see her at the bazaar?' + +'She was buying chairs, and that made me buy one too,' replied Biddy +rather vaguely. + +'The young ladies met me after that in the street and asked me the way +here. I showed them. That was why I was in the shop,' explained +Celestina, on whose brow a little wrinkle of uneasiness had remained +till she could tell her mother the reason of her moment's lingering. + +'I see,' said Mrs. Fairchild, who would indeed have found it difficult +to believe that Celestina had been careless or disobedient; and at the +words Celestina's face recovered its usual quiet, thoughtful, but +peaceful expression. + +Bridget pressed up a little closer to Mrs. Fairchild. + +'You're not vexed with her then,' she said. 'She was quite good. +I thought at first you were going to be rather a cross mamma.' + +'_Bridget_,' said Rosalys, colouring, and in an awful tone. When Alie +said 'Bridget' like that it meant a great deal. + +'I didn't mean,' began Biddy as usual. + +Celestina's mother turned to Rosalys. + +'Please do not be vexed with her, miss,' she said, with again that +winning smile. And the smile that stole over Alie's face in response +made Mrs. Fairchild's gaze linger on the lovely child. 'No, my dear,' +she went on, speaking now to Biddy, 'it was quite right of Celestina to +show you the way; and I am glad you happened to meet her.' + +During this time, which was really only a minute or so, for it takes +much longer to relate a little scene of this kind than for it actually +to pass, Mr. Fairchild had been busy with the contents of the envelope +Randolph had given him. It contained, besides a note, a list of some +books which Mr. Vane wished to have sent as soon as possible. After +knitting his brows over this for some moments, the bookseller came +forward. + +'I find that Mr. Vane would like this order executed at once,' he said, +addressing Randolph. + +'I don't know, I'm sure,' said Rough; and indeed how was he to know, +seeing that the letter had only been given over to his charge by Mr. +Redding? + +Mr. Fairchild looked perplexed. + +'Oh,' he said, 'I thought that possibly you could have explained a +little more fully'--then he considered again. 'I think perhaps I could +send specimens of some of the hymn-books, and I can make out a list of +the prices, etc., so that Mr. Vane would have no trouble in selecting +what he requires. It will only take me a few minutes, and it would save +time if----' he hesitated. 'My errand-boy has gone some distance away +this morning.' + +'If you mean that it'll save trouble for me to carry the parcel, I don't +mind,' said Rough in his boyish way. + +Mr. Fairchild thanked him. + +'I will see to it at once,' he said, and turning to his desk he began +writing down the details of some books which he took down from the +shelves behind. + +The four children, Mrs. Fairchild, and Jane Dodson stood together in the +middle of the shop; it was quite small, and with these six people it +seemed crowded. There was only one chair, pushed up in a corner by the +counter. + +'It is draughty near the door, even when it is shut. Will you not come +farther in, Miss Vane? or,' with a little hesitation, 'would you step +into the parlour--there is a nice fire--and sit down for a few minutes?' +said Mrs. Fairchild to Rosalys. + +Rosalys began to thank her, but before she had time to do more than +begin Bridget interrupted. + +'Oh yes, Alie, please do,' she said eagerly. 'I do so want to see what a +parlour's like. But, please,' she went on to Mrs. Fairchild, 'would you +first tell me what that dear little peep-hole window up in the wall is +for? I would so like to look through it.' + +Alie's face grew red again; she really felt ashamed of Biddy. + +'And it's worse,' she said to herself, 'to be so forward to people who +are not quite the same as us, though I'm sure Mrs. Fairchild is as nice +as any lady.' + +And Mrs. Fairchild confirmed this feeling of Alie's by coming again to +the rescue. + +'Certainly, my dear,' she said, smiling. 'You shall look through the +window from the other side. There's pretty sure to be a chair in front +of it, if you are not tall enough. My little girl is very fond of +looking through that funny window.' + +She led the way through another door--a door facing the street +entrance--into a very small passage, whence a narrow staircase ran up to +the first floor. The children could scarcely see where they were, for +the passage was dark, till Mrs. Fairchild opened another door leading +into the parlour, and even then it was not very light, for the parlour +window, as I think I said before, looked on to a little yard, and there +were the walls of other houses round this yard. + +It was a very neat, but to the children's eyes a rather dreary-looking +little room. + +Biddy turned to Celestina. + +'I think I like droind-rooms better than parlours,' she said, returning +to their conversation in the street, 'except for the sweet little +window,' and in another instant she had mounted the chair and was +peering through. 'Oh, it _is_ nice,' she said. 'I can see Roughie'--for +Rough, had considered it more manly to stay in the shop--'and Mr.--your +papa, Celestina. It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show. I +wish we had one in our house. Alie, do look.' + +[Illustration: 'It's like a magic-lantern; no, I mean a peep-show.' +P. 89.] + +Rosalys came forward, not so eager to take advantage of Biddy's obliging +offer as to seize the chance of giving her a little private admonition. + +'Biddy,' she whispered, 'I'm ashamed of you. I never knew you so free +and rude before.' + +Bridget descended dolefully from the chair. + +'I'm very sorry,' she said; 'please, ma'am,' and she turned to Mrs. +Fairchild, 'I didn't mean to be free and rude.' + +The babyishness of her round fat face, and her brown eyes looking quite +ready to cry, touched Mrs. Fairchild, though it is fair to add that she +approved of Alie's checking the child. She would have been perfectly +shocked if Celestina even when younger than Biddy had behaved to +strangers as the little visitor was doing. Children were kept much more +in the background forty years ago than now. On the whole I don't know +that it was altogether a bad thing for them, though in some cases it was +carried too far, much farther than you, dear children of to-day, would +find at all pleasant, or than I should like to see. + +'No, my dear, I am sure you did not mean any harm,' said Mrs. Fairchild. +'We all have to learn, but it is very nice for you to have a kind elder +sister to direct you.' + +Biddy did not seem at that moment very keenly to appreciate this +privilege. + +'I'd rather have a littler sister,' she said; but as she caught sight of +Celestina's astonished face, 'I don't mean for Alie to be away--Alie's +very kind--but I'd like a littler one too. It's very dull playing alone. +And oh, please,' as the word 'playing' recalled the bazaar and their +purchases, 'mayn't I see her dolls' house?' and she pointed to +Celestina. + +Rosalys sighed. Bridget was incorrigible. + +'It isn't a house,' said Celestina, 'it's only a room. May I get it, +mother? I do so want to see if the new chairs will do,' she went on, for +the first time disengaging the toys from her handkerchief. 'The others +are so big that when the dolls sit on them their legs go all over the +top of the table instead of underneath.' + +'I know,' said Alie, 'that's how mine used to do when I was a little +girl and played with our doll-house. But mamma got some for me from +Germany all the proper size, on purpose. The doll-house was really very +pretty then.' + +Celestina looked up with eager eyes. + +'Oh, I would like to see it,' she said. 'It must be beautiful.' + +'No' said Rosalys, 'it isn't now. Some of the furniture's broken, and +nearly all the chair-seats need new covers. But it might be made very +nice with a little trouble, only you see Bridget has never cared to play +with it.' + +Biddy had drawn near and was standing listening. + +'I daresay I would care if I had anybody to play with me,' she said. +'You know you're too big, Alie. I wish Celestina could come and play +with me. Won't you let her, if mamma says she may?' she went on, turning +to Mrs. Fairchild. + +Celestina's eyes sparkled, but her mother looked rather grave. + +'My dear young lady,' she said to Biddy, 'you are rather too young to +plan things of that kind till you have talked about them to your mamma. +Besides Celestina almost never goes anywhere.' + +'I went to tea at Miss Bankes's once,' said Celestina. 'That's where I +used to go to school, but I didn't like it much--they played such noisy +games and they were all so smart. And once I went to Nelly Tasker's, and +that was nice, but they've left Seacove a long time ago.' + +Mrs. Fairchild looked at Celestina in some surprise. It was seldom the +little girl was so communicative, especially to strangers. But then, as +she said to her husband afterwards-- + +'Miss Vane is a very sweet girl, and the little one chatters as if she'd +known you for years. They certainly have a very friendly way with them: +I couldn't exactly wonder at Celestina.' + +'I'll ask mamma. You'll see if I don't,' said Biddy, nodding her head +with determination. 'And please, Celestina, do let me see your +doll-room, if that's what you call it?' + +'May I fetch it, mother?' asked the child. But at that moment Randolph +put his head in at the door. + +'We must be going,' he said. 'Come along, girls. I've got the parcel. +Thank you,' he added to Mrs. Fairchild, 'and good-morning.' + +Alie and Biddy turned to follow him. But first they shook hands with +Celestina and her mother. + +'I'm so sorry,' said Biddy, 'not to see the dolls' room. Wouldn't Rough +wait a minute, Alie?' + +'No,' the elder sister replied. 'We've been out a good while and there's +no reason for waiting now the parcel's ready.' + +'Well I'll come again. You'll let me, won't you?' said Bride, and not +content with shaking hands, she held up her round rosy mouth for a kiss. + +'Bless you, love,' kind Mrs. Fairchild could not resist saying, as she +stooped to her. + +'She is a very nice mamma, isn't she, Alie?' said Biddy with +satisfaction, when they found themselves out in the street again. + +'Yes,' said Rosalys. But she spoke rather absently. She was wondering +what made Bridget so nice sometimes, and sometimes so very tiresome and +heedless. + +'I wonder if it would have been better for her if she was more like that +little Celestina,' she thought. 'I'm sure they're very strict with her, +and yet I'm sure she's very fond of her mother and very obedient. But it +must be rather a dull life for a little girl, only she seems so womanly; +as if she really felt she was useful.' + +It was almost dinner-time--their dinner-time, that is to say--when the +children reached the Rectory, and there was something of a scramble to +get hands washed, hair smoothed, and thick boots changed so as to be in +time and not keep papa and mamma waiting. Randolph came into the +dining-room, carrying the parcel of books. + +'Papa,' he said, 'these are the books you told Redding to order for +you--at least there are some of them, and if they are right, or if +you'll mark down which of them are not right, Fairchild the bookseller +will order what you want at once.' + +'I'll look at them immediately after luncheon,' Mr. Vane replied. 'But +how did they come into your hands, my boy? Has Redding been here again?' + +'No,' Rough explained, 'we met him,' and then he went on to tell the +history of the morning. + +'And she 'avited us--the little-girl-in-the-bazaar's mother, I mean,' +Biddy hastened to add, 'to step into the parlour. I never saw a parlour +before; it's not as nice as a droind-room, except for the dear little +window up in the wall. Couldn't we have a little window like that in our +schoolroom, mamma? And I'm to go another day to see the room; it's not a +proper doll-house, she says; only a room, and I said I was sure I might +ask her to come here, but she said I must ask my mamma first. I thought +at first she was going to be rather a cross sort of a mamma, but I don't +think she is--do you, Alie?' + +Biddy ran off this long story so fast that Mrs. Vane could only stare at +her in amazement. + +'My dear Biddy!' she said at last. 'Alie, you were there? You don't mean +to say that you let Bride run into the toy-shop people's house and make +friends with their children, and--and----' Mrs. Vane stopped short, at a +loss for words. + +Mr. Vane looked up. + +'My dear child,' he said too, to Bridget, 'you must be careful. And +here--where everybody is sure to know who you are, and when you should +set a good example of nice manners--you must not behave in this wild +sort of way.' + +'I didn't mean,' began Biddy plaintively. + +But this time she was not chidden for her doleful tone--both Alie and +Rough came to the rescue. + +'Please, mamma, oh please, papa, you don't understand,' began Rosalys. + +'It wasn't the bazaar people at all,' said Rough, chiming in; 'it was +all right. Only, Biddy, you are really too stupid, the muddley way you +tell things----' + +'Yes,' agreed Alie, with natural vexation, 'you needn't make it seem as +if we had all gone out of our minds, really.' + +'I didn't mean,' started Biddy again, and still more lugubriously. + +'Stop, Bride,' said Mr. Vane authoritatively, laying down his knife and +fork as he spoke. 'Now, Rosalys, tell the whole story properly.' + +Alie did so, and as Randolph had already explained about meeting Mr. +Redding, it was not long before his father and mother understood the +real facts clearly. + +'We couldn't have refused to go into the parlour when Mrs. Fairchild +asked us like that--could we, mamma?' Rosalys wound up. + +'And she asked us to step in so nicely. And there were no chairs in the +shop, 'cept only one. And I did so want to see a parlour,' added Biddy, +reviving under Alie's support. + +'No, you did quite right,' said Mrs. Vane to the elder ones. 'But Biddy +must not begin making friends with every child she comes across and +inviting them to come here. You are not a baby now; you should have more +sense.' + +The tears collected in Bridget's eyes; they were very obedient to her +summons, it must be allowed. Rosalys felt sorry for her. + +'Mamma,' she said, 'of course Biddy shouldn't invite anybody without +your leave first, but still this little Celestina isn't _at all_ a +common child. She's so neat and quiet, and she speaks so nicely. And her +mother is _nearly_ as pretty as you, not quite of course.' + +'She's awfully jolly,' put in Rough. + +Mrs. Vane smiled. + +'What an uncommon name,' she said. '"Celestine," did you say? It is +French.' + +'No, mamma, not "Celestine,"' said Alie, '"Celestina." I suppose it's +the English of the other.' + +'I never heard it in English before,' said Mrs. Vane, 'though I once had +a dear old friend in France called "Celestine"--you remember Madame +d'Ermont, Bernard? I've not heard from her for ever so long.' + +'Celestina was going to tell us about her name, but something +interrupted her and then she forgot,' said Alie. 'Perhaps they've got +some French relations, mamma.' + +'It isn't likely,' her mother replied. 'But some day when I am in the +village, or town--should we call it "town," Bernard?' + +'It is a seaport, so it must be a town, I suppose,' said Mr. Vane. + +'I should like to see the little girl and her mother,' Mrs. Vane +continued. + +'And oh, mamma,' cried Biddy, jumping up and down in her chair as her +spirits rose again, 'when you do, _mayn't_ I go with you, and then +Celestina would show me her dolls' room?' + +'We shall see, my dear,' her mother replied. + +Biddy was not at all fond of the reply, 'We shall see.' 'It's only a +perlite way of saying "no,"' she once said, but she dared not tease her +mother any more. + +'Nobody cares about what I like,' she said to herself disconsolately. + +Perhaps she would not have thought so if she had heard what her mother +and Rosalys were talking about later that afternoon. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +ON THE SEASHORE + + 'The sands of the sea stretch far and fine, + The rocks start out of them sharp and slim.' + _A Legend of the Sea._ + + +'Oh dear,' exclaimed Mrs. Vane one morning at breakfast two or three +days after the children's walk in to Seacove. Everybody looked up--the +two girls and Rough were at table with their father and mother. Mrs. +Vane had just opened and begun to read a letter. What could be the +matter? + +'It is from Miss Millet,' she said; 'her sister's children have got +scarlet fever, and she has got a bad sore throat herself from nursing +them. They had no idea what it was at first,' she went on reading from +the letter; 'but of course she cannot come back to us for ever so long +on account of the infection.' + +'Poor Miss Millet,' said Rosalys. + +'_I_ don't mind,' said Biddy; 'I like having holidays.' + +Alie, who was sitting next her, gave her a little touch. + +'Hush, Biddy,' she said, 'that's just one of the things you say that +sound _so_ unkind.' + +She spoke in a whisper, and fortunately for Bridget her father and +mother were too much taken up with the letter to notice what she had +said. + +'I didn't mean,' Biddy was beginning as usual, but Mrs. Vane was +speaking to Alie by this time, and no one listened to Biddy. + +'I must write to Miss Millet at once,' their mother said, 'though I +shall ask her not to write often till the infection is gone--she says +this letter is disinfected. And, Alie, you had better put in a little +word, and Biddy too, if she likes. It would be kind.' + +'Yes, mamma,' said Alie at once, but Bridget did not answer. + +It was not usual for Mrs. Vane to discuss plans and arrangements for the +children before them, but this morning her mind was so full of the +unexpected turn of affairs that she could not help talking about them. + +'It will be a question of several weeks--even months, I fear,' she said +to Mr. Vane; 'there are such a lot of those children, and Miss Millet +is sure to wish to nurse them all. We must think over what to do.' + +'Perhaps you and I can manage the girls between us,' said Mr. Vane. + +'Alie perhaps,' began Mrs. Vane doubtfully. + +'Yes,' said Bridget suddenly, to every one's astonishment, 'if it was +only Alie. But it would never do for me. I'd be too much for you and +papa, mamma.' + +She spoke quite gravely, but the others had hard work not to laugh. + +'How do you mean, Biddy?' asked her father. + +'I'm very tiresome to teach; often I'm very cross indeed,' replied the +child complacently. + +'But you _need_ not be; you can help being so if you try,' said Mr. +Vane. + +'Well, I don't like trying, I suppose it's that,' she answered. + +For the moment her father thought it wiser to say no more. + +Mr. Redding happened to call that morning, and at luncheon Mrs. Vane +told Alie and Bride that she was going to Seacove, and they might go +with her. + +Alie's eyes sparkled. + +'Are you going to----' she began, and her mother seemed to understand +her without any more words. + +'Yes,' she said, 'I have got all the measures.' + +'And oh, mamma,' asked Biddy, too full of her own ideas to notice +these mysterious sayings, '_will_ you go to Pier Street and let us +show you where Celestina lives. And if you _could_ think of something +you wanted to buy, just any little thing, a pencil or some envelopes +or anything--they've got _everything_--we might go into the shop, and +I _daresay_ if the nice mamma saw you, she'd ask you to step into the +parlour too.' + +'We shall see,' mamma replied. + +But 'We shall see' was this time accompanied by a little smile, which +made Bridget think that the 'We shall see' was perhaps a way of saying +'Yes.' + +Mamma had several messages to do at Seacove, and though Biddy was in a +great hurry to get to Pier Street, she was rather interested in the +other shops also. At the draper's, Mrs. Vane made some small purchases, +as to which Alie showed great concern. One was of pretty pink glazed +calico and of some other shiny stuff called 'chintz'--white, with tiny +lines of different colours; she also bought some red cotton velvet and +neat-looking white spotted muslin, and several yards of very narrow +lace of a very small and dainty pattern, and other things, all of which +interested Alie very much indeed, though after a while Biddy got tired +of looking on, and went and stood at the doorway of the shop. + +'I am sorry to give you the trouble of taking down so many things when +I only want such a short length of each,' said Mrs. Vane civilly to the +shopman--or shopwoman, I think it was. 'But the fact is I am buying all +these odds and ends for my little girl's'--and here she glanced round to +make sure that Bridget was out of hearing--'for my little girl's +doll-house, which needs doing up;' by which information Mrs. Cutter, the +draper's wife, was much edified, repeating it to her special cronies at +Seacove, together with her opinion that the new rector's wife was a most +pleasant-spoken lady. + +One or two other shops Mrs. Vane and Rosalys went into; a paper-hanger's +for one, or rather a painter's, where wall-papers were sold; and an +iron-monger's, where she bought two or three different kinds of small +nails, tin tacks, and neat little brass-headed nails. Bridget stayed at +the door of both these shops: she thought them not at all interesting, +and mamma and Alie did not press her to come in. The little girl was in +a great fidget to get to Pier Street, and stood murmuring to herself +that she didn't believe they'd _ever_ come; Alie might make mamma be +quick, she knew how she, Biddy, wanted to see Celestina and her dolls' +room. + +'But nobody cares about what _I_ want,' she added to herself, with the +discontented look on her face which so spoilt its round rosy +pleasantness. + +Just then out came Mrs. Vane and Alie. They both looked pleased and +bright, and this made Biddy still crosser. + +'Well, now,' said her mother consideringly, 'is that all, Alie? Yes--I +think it is. I must call at the grocer's on the way home, but I think we +pass that way. No--I don't remember anything else.' + +At this Bridget could no longer keep silent. + +'Oh, mamma,' she exclaimed, 'and you said you'd come to Celestina's +house. It's too bad.' + +Mrs. Vane looked at her in surprise. + +'I did not say so, Biddy; I said we should see. And we are going there +now. You have no reason to be so impatient and to look so cross,' and +she turned and walked on quickly. + +'Biddy,' said Alie, 'you're too bad really. You spoil everything.' + +Then she ran after her mother, and Bridget followed them at some little +distance. + +They went directly down the street which a little farther on ran into +Pier Street, Biddy feeling more and more ashamed of herself. How she +wished she had been less hasty, and not spoken so rudely and crossly to +her mother. It did seem true, as Alie said, that she spoilt everything. +But she did not appear as sorry as she felt; indeed, her face had a +rather sulky look when at last she came up to the others, who were +waiting for her at the door of the shop. + +'I am going in to see Mrs. Fairchild,' said her mother. 'I have +something to ask her. You may come in too, Biddy, and I will ask to see +the little girl too.' + +A naughty spirit came over Biddy, even though in her heart she was +sorry. + +'No,' she said. 'I don't want to see the little girl, and I don't want +to come in,' and her face grew still more sullen. + +'Very well,' said her mother, 'stay there then.' + +But as she entered the shop with Alie she whispered to her, 'I really +don't know what to do with Biddy. She has such a _very_ bad temper, +Alie. Just when I am doing everything I can for her too.' + +'Only she doesn't know about it, you see, mamma,' Alie replied. 'Still +she is very cross, I know.' + +Mrs. Fairchild was herself in the shop as well as her husband. As soon +as she caught sight of Rosalys she seemed to know who Mrs. Vane was, and +came forward with her gentle smile. + +'I hope you will excuse my troubling you, Mrs. Fairchild,' said the +rector's wife, 'but Mr. Redding, whom I saw this morning, thought you +would be the best person to apply to about a little difficulty I am in.' + +She half glanced round as if to see that no one was in the way, and with +quick understanding Celestina's mother turned towards the inner door. + +'Will you please step into the parlour a moment?' she said. 'We should +be less interrupted.' + +Bridget, standing by the half-open shop door, heard the words. She felt +almost inclined to run forward and beg leave to go in too. But she knew +she must first ask pardon of her mother for her naughtiness, and the +idea of doing so before Mrs. Fairchild was not pleasant. + +'If Celestina would come out herself I could ask her to ask mamma to +speak to me,' thought Bridget. But no Celestina appeared. + +'They will be so comfortable in that nice warm parlour,' thought Biddy; +'and I daresay Celestina will be showing Alie all her dolls and things,' +for she had not noticed that just as Mrs. Vane went into the parlour she +had said a word to Rosalys, who had stayed behind. + +So Biddy stood outside, very much put out indeed. The ten minutes during +which she had to wait seemed to her like an hour; and when Celestina's +mother came to the door to show her visitors out, it was not difficult +for her to see that the little girl was not in at all a happy frame of +mind. + +'Good-morning, Miss Bridget,' said Mrs. Fairchild. + +'Good-morning,' Biddy could not but reply. + +She did not even wonder how Mrs. Fairchild knew her name; she was so +taken up with her own thoughts. She would have been rather surprised had +she known that it was about her, poor little neglected, uncared for girl +as she chose to fancy herself, that the two mothers had been speaking +those long ten minutes in the parlour--'Mayn't I see Celestina at all?' +Biddy went on. 'I think Alie's very----' + +'Very what?' said her mother. 'Alie has been quietly waiting in the shop +for me as I told her.' + +Alie came forward as she spoke. + +'And Celestina is not in this morning,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'She had a +headache, so I have sent her out a walk.' + +Thus all Biddy's temper and jealousy had been thrown away. She felt +rather foolish as she followed her mother and Rosalys down the street. + +After stopping for a moment at the grocer's, Mrs. Vane turned to go home +by the Parade, the same way by which the children had come to Seacove +that Saturday. It was a fine bright afternoon, still early--a little +breeze blew in from the sea--the tide was far out. + +'Mayn't we go home by the shore, mamma?' Alie asked. 'It is nice firm +walking nearly all the way.' + +Mrs. Vane consented: they all turned down a sort of short cart-track, +leading through the stony shingle to the smooth sands beyond. The sun +was still some height above the horizon, but the cold frosty air gave it +already the red evening look. Glancing upwards at it Biddy remembered +the day she had watched it setting and the good resolutions she had then +made. She almost felt as if the sun was looking at her and reminding +her of them, and a feeling of shame, not proud but humble, crept over +her. She went close up to her mother and slipped her hand through her +arm. + +'Mamma,' she said very gently, 'I'm sorry for being so cross.' + +'I am glad to hear you say so, Bride,' said her mother. She spoke very +gravely, and at first Bridget felt a little disappointed. But after a +moment's--less than a moment's--hesitation, the fat little hand felt +itself clasped and pressed with a kindly affection that, truth to tell, +Biddy was scarcely accustomed to. For there is no denying that she was a +very trying and tiresome little girl. And Mrs. Vane was quick and +sensitive, and of late she had had much anxiety and strain, and she was +not of a nature to take things calmly. Rosalys was of a much more even +and cheery temperament: she 'took after' her father, as the country-people +say. It was not without putting some slight force on herself that Biddy's +mother pressed the little hand; and that she did so was in great part +owing to a sudden remembrance of some words which Mrs. Fairchild had said +during their few minutes' conversation, which, as I told you, had been +principally about Bridget. + +'Yes,' Celestina's mother had replied in answer to a remark of the +rector's wife, 'I can see that she must be a child who needs careful +management. Firmness of course--but also the greatest, the very greatest +gentleness, so as never to crush or repress any deeper feeling whenever +it comes.' + +And the words had stayed in Biddy's mother's mind. Ah, children, _how_ +much we may do for good, and, alas, for bad, by our simplest words +sometimes! + +So in spite of still feeling irritated and sore against cross-grained +Biddy, her mother crushed down her own vexation and met the child's +better mind more than half-way. + +A queer feeling came over the little girl; a sort of choke in her +throat, which she had never felt before. + +'If mamma was always like that _how_ good I would be,' thought Biddy, as +she walked on quietly, her hand still on her mother's arm. + +Suddenly she withdrew it with a little cry, and ran on a few steps. Some +way before them a small figure stood out dark against the sky, from time +to time stooping as if picking up something. Bridget had excellent eyes +when she chose to use them. + +'It's Celestina, mamma,' she exclaimed, running back to her mother and +Alie. 'Mayn't I go and speak to her? She's all alone. Come, +Smuttie--it'll be a nice run for you. I may, mayn't I, mamma?' + +'Very well,' said her mother, and almost before she said the words Biddy +was off. + +'She must be a nice little girl,' said Mrs. Vane; 'her mother seems such +a sweet woman. But, Alie, did you ever see anything like Bride's +changeableness?' and she gave a little sigh. + +'But, mamma dear, she did say she was sorry very nicely this time--very +_real_-ly,' said Rosalys. + +'Yes, darling,' her mother agreed. + +A minute or two brought them up to where the two children were standing +talking together, greatly to Bridget's satisfaction, though Celestina +looked very quiet and almost grave. + +'How do you do, my dear?' said Mrs. Vane, shaking hands with her. 'I +have just seen your mother; she said you were out a walk, but we did not +know we should find you on the shore. Is it not rather lonely for you +here by yourself?' + +'I was looking for shells, ma'am,' Celestina replied. 'There's very +pretty tiny ones just about here sometimes, though you have to look for +them a good deal; they're so buried in the sand.' + +'But she has found such beauties, and she takes them home for her dolls +to use for dishes, and some of them for ornaments,' said Biddy. 'Do show +mamma how _sweet_ they are, Celestina. And oh, mamma, mayn't I stay a +little with Celestina and look for them too?' + +Mrs. Vane hesitated. + +'I'm afraid not, Biddy,' she said. 'I must be going in--and Alie too. +She must write to grandmamma to-day.' + +'Oh, but mayn't _I_ stay?' asked Biddy entreatingly. 'It's quite safe +for me if it's safe for Celestina, and she says her mamma often lets her +come out on the shore alone.' + +Mrs. Vane looked round; the seashore was perfectly quiet except for one +or two old fishermen mending their nets at some distance. One could have +thought it miles away from the little port and the ships and the +sailors. Then, too, the Rectory was a very short distance off, and +indeed from its upper windows this sheltered stretch of sand could be +clearly seen. + +'Well, yes,' she said. 'You may stay for half an hour or so--not longer. +And indeed by then it will be quite time for you too to be going home, +will it not, my little girl?' she added to Celestina. + +'Yes, ma'am. I must be home by half-past four, and it takes twenty +minutes from here. I can go past the Rectory and see Miss----' she +hesitated over the name, 'Miss Biddy in at the gate, if you please,' +said Celestina, in her womanly little way. + +Mrs. Vane thanked her; then she and Rosalys walked on, and the two small +damsels were left alone. + +'Why must you be in by half-past four?' asked Biddy. + +'It's getting dark by then,' said Celestina. 'Besides there's things to +do. I get the tea ready very often. When mother's not very busy it waits +for her till she can leave the shop, but to-day I know she's busy, 'cos +father's got a great many letters to write. So I'll get the table all +ready.' + +Bridget gazed at her. + +'Do you like doing it?' she asked. 'You're such a little girl, you +see--not much bigger than me, and you play with dolls.' + +'I like to be useful to mother,' said Celestina simply. + +This was rather a new idea to Bridget, and she was sometimes very lazy +about thinking over new ideas. + +'Alie's useful to mamma, I suppose,' she said, 'but then she's the +eldest. And you're the only one--that's why, I daresay. Is it nice to be +the only one?' + +'Sometimes it's very alone,' said Celestina, 'some days when mother's +very busy and I scarcely see her, and I've nobody to show the dolls to.' + +'I know,' said Biddy. 'I'm rather alone too, for Alie's so big, you see. +Oh, Celestina, do look, isn't this a beauty? Look, it's all pinky +inside. Now I've got six and this beauty. I think that'll do for to-day. +I'm tired of looking.' + +'Sometimes I look for ever so long--a whole hour,' said Celestina, +rather taken aback by Biddy's fitfulness. 'But perhaps we'd better run +about a little to keep warm. It isn't like as if it was summer.' + +'I'm not cold and I don't like running,' said Biddy. 'Let's just walk, +Celestina, and you tell me things. Oh, look at the sun--he's getting +redder and redder--and look at the lighthouse, it's shining red too. Is +it a fire burning inside, do you think, Celestina?' + +'No, it's the sun's redness shining on the glass. The top room is all +windows--I've been there once,' she said. 'It's a good way to walk +though it looks so near, and there's some water too between. Father +took us once in a boat, mother and me, when the tide was in, and we +had dinner there; we took it with us, and there was a nice old man +father knew. And when the tide went out we came over a bit of water till +we got to the stones, in the boat, and then the boatman took it back, +and we walked home right along the stones--you see where I mean?' + +She pointed to the rocky ridge which I told you ran out from the shore +to the lighthouse. Bridget listened with the greatest interest. + +'How nice,' she said. 'Couldn't you have walked the whole way? I'm sure +there isn't any water between now--_I_ can't see it. It must have gone +away.' + +'Oh no, it hasn't,' said Celestina. 'It's always there: it couldn't go +away. You couldn't ever get to the lighthouse without a boat; once one +of the men had to come in a hurry, and father said he had to wade to +over his waist.' + +But Bridget was not convinced. She stood there gazing out seawards at +the lighthouse. + +'I would like to go there,' she said. 'Can't you see a long way from the +top room that's all windows, Celestina? I should think you could see to +the--what do they call that thing at the top of the world--the north +stick, is it?' + +[Illustration: 'I would like to go out there,' she said. P. 115.] + +Celestina was not very much given to laughing, but this was too funny. + +'The North Pole, you mean,' she said. 'Oh no, you couldn't see to +_there_, I'm quite sure. Besides, there isn't anything to see like +that--not a pole sticking up in the ground--it's just the name of a +place. Father's told me all about it. And so did the old man at the +lighthouse. Oh, I would like to go there--better than anywhere--just +think how strange it must be, all the snow and the ice mountains and +everything quite, _quite_ still!' + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A NICE PLAN + + 'Up where the world grows cold, + Under the sharp north star.' + _A North Pole Story._ + + +Biddy stared at Celestina. The little girl's face was quite flushed with +excitement. + +'Go on,' said Biddy. 'Tell me some more. I never heard about it.' + +'It's what they call the arctic regions,' said Celestina. 'The old +sailor at the lighthouse has been there. Once he was there in a ship +that got fastened into the ice, and they thought they'd never get out +again, and they'd scarcely nothing to eat. Oh, it was dreadful; but I +did so like to hear about it. And fancy, in the summer it never gets +night up there--the sun never goes away; and in the winter it never gets +day, the sun doesn't come up at all.' + +'How very funny!' said Biddy. 'What makes it like that? Is it the same +sun as ours?' + +'Oh yes, but I can't quite explain,' said Celestina, looking rather +puzzled. 'Father showed it me with the candle and a little round globe +we've got, but I'm afraid I couldn't tell you.' + +'Could the old man tell it?' asked Biddy. 'I would so like to go to see +him. Don't you think we might some day?' + +'Perhaps,' said Celestina. 'When the summer comes perhaps your papa +would take you in a boat. Lots of ladies go out to the lighthouse in the +summer. It's too cold in a boat in winter.' + +'But I don't mean in a boat,' said Bridget; 'I mean walking. I'm quite +_sure_ we could jump over the little bit of water if we gave a great big +jump. I once jumped over a whole brook at grandmamma's--I did really.' + +'It's much bigger than that--it is indeed. You don't understand,' said +Celestina. 'If you'd ask your papa he'd tell you, I daresay. But I think +we must be going home now. I'm sure it's time.' + +'I'm sure it isn't,' said Biddy crossly. 'We haven't talked about the +dolls at all yet, and I want you to tell me more about that funny place +where the snow is.' + +'I'll try to think of more to tell you if your mamma will let you go out +with me another time, and I'd like dearly to show you my dolls' room if +you could come to our house one day,' said Celestina. 'But we must go +home now, Miss Biddy.' + +Bridget flounced about, looking very much put out. + +'I'm not going yet. I don't want to go in,' she said. + +Celestina began to look troubled. Then her face cleared. + +'_I_ must go home,' she said, 'whether you do or not. I wouldn't for +anything have mother worrying about me. You wouldn't like your mamma to +be worrying about you, would you, Miss Biddy?' + +'I daresay she wouldn't care; I'd only get a scolding, and I don't mind +much,' said Biddy, who had got on to a very high horse by this time. + +Celestina stopped short and looked at her. She could not understand +Biddy at all. + +'Mother never scolds me, but I'm very unhappy when she's not pleased +with me,' she said gently; 'and I'm sure your mamma's very kind and +good. I'm sure she does care about you a great deal.' + +Her words reminded Bridget of what had happened that very afternoon. +Perhaps what Celestina said was true: mamma had pressed her hand when +she said she was sorry. With one of the quick changes of mood which +seemed so strange to Celestina she turned suddenly. + +'I'll go home,' she said. 'Come on, Celestina, before I get naughty +again. But it isn't all for being good. It's a great deal that I want to +come out with you again, and perhaps I mightn't if I was late to-day.' + +'No. Very likely your mamma would think I made you disobedient,' +Celestina replied; 'and I shouldn't like her to think so.' + +'If I might go into the kitchen and get the tea ready for papa and mamma +like you do, I'd never want to stay out late,' said Bridget +thoughtfully. + +Celestina considered. + +'You don't need to do that,' she said. 'It wouldn't be any good to your +mamma, for she's got servants to do it. But there must be other things +you could do if you want to help her.' + +'No,' said Biddy, shaking her head, 'there's nothing. And I don't think +I want very much; it's just sometimes. Alie helps mamma because she's +the eldest.' + +Celestina scarcely knew how to answer this, though she felt there was +something wrong about her little companion's way of looking at things. +But Celestina had not much power of putting her thoughts and feelings +into words. Her solitary life had made her a very silent child, not +intentionally, but by habit. She found it difficult to express her +meaning even to herself. Just now she gazed at Biddy without speaking, +so that Biddy began to laugh. + +'What are you looking at me so for?' asked the younger child. + +'I don't know,' said Celestina. 'I was only thinking.' + +'What?' asked Biddy again. + +'You should help too, even though you're the youngest,' said Celestina +bluntly. + +'Oh, bother,' was all Biddy's reply. + +They were at the Rectory gate by this time. + +'Good-bye, Miss Biddy,' said Celestina. 'I must run home fast. But +I don't think it's late.' + +'Good-bye,' said Biddy. 'I've got my shells; have you got yours? Oh +yes,' as Celestina held up a tiny little basket she was carrying. 'How +dreadfully careful you are! Good-night. I'll ask mamma to let me come +and see you very soon.' + +On her way up the short drive to the house Bridget came face to face +with Randolph. + +'Oh, you're there, are you?' he said. 'Mamma was just asking if you'd +come in, so I came to look out for you.' + +Biddy was silent. This did not seem very like mamma's 'not caring,' as +she had been saying to Celestina. + +'It isn't late,' she remarked at last. 'Mamma said I might stay half an +hour.' + +'She was beginning to worry about you a little, all the same,' said +Rough. 'Were you with the little Fairchild girl?' + +'Yes,' said Biddy. + +'Is she a nice little girl?' asked Rough. + +'Yes,' said Biddy again. + +'Then why don't you like her? Why are you so cross?' asked her brother. + +'I'm not cross, and I never said I didn't like her,' replied Bridget +impatiently. + +Rough began to whistle. + +'I can't say I agree with you,' he said. 'Well, I'll run on and tell +mamma you're all right;' and off he set. + +Biddy followed him slowly, feeling rather depressed. + +'I didn't mean to be cross,' she said to herself in her usual way, +though she really did feel what she said this time. 'It was kind of +Roughie to come to meet me. They're all good 'acept me. Celestina's good +too. I'm made all the wrong way,' and she sighed deeply. + +She brightened up again, however, when she met her mother at the door. + +'That's right, Biddy dear,' said Mrs. Vane. 'You've not stayed too +late.' + +Rough was there too; he had not told about her being cross evidently, +and Biddy felt grateful to him. It was very nice when mamma spoke like +that; it reminded her of the way her hand had been pressed that +afternoon. But a sudden thought rather chilled her satisfaction. Biddy +was beginning to be troubled with thoughts, and thoughts too that would +not be driven away and forgotten, as she had been accustomed to drive +away and forget anything that made her feel at all uncomfortable. This +thought teased and pricked her for a few seconds, and though she +wriggled herself about and stamped her feet down with hard thumps on the +gravel, it would not go. + +'Biddy,' it said, 'Biddy, you know what you should do.' + +So that at last, in sheer impatience of its teasing, she gave her +mother's sleeve a little tug. + +'Mamma,' she said, 'it was _her_ that made me not stay longer than you'd +said. I wanted to. I wasn't very good, but she's good.' + +Mrs. Vane turned with real pleasure in her face. + +'I'm very glad you've told me, Biddy,' she said. 'Yes, it was nice and +good of Celestina to remind you. I think she must really be a very +conscientious child.' + +'I don't know what that is,' said Bridget. 'At least, p'raps I do know, +but it's such a trouble to think. But Celestina _is_ good. I almost +think she's a little too good.' + +Her tone was very melancholy. Rough burst out laughing, but Mrs. Vane +looked rather disappointed. + +'It will be so vexing if Biddy takes a dislike to her just when I was +hoping it would be a good thing,' she thought to herself. + +Still, the remembrance of the little talk with Mrs. Fairchild was in her +mind. She took no notice of Biddy's remark, only telling her cheerfully +to run in quickly and get ready for tea, as it was almost ready. + +The children's mother went to Seacove again the next day, but this time +she did not take either of them with her. She went straight to Pier +Street, and as soon as Mrs. Fairchild saw her coming into the shop she +came forward with a smile and showed her into the parlour. There +Celestina was sitting quietly working at some new clothes for her little +dolls: she wanted them to be very smart indeed, in case the Rectory +young ladies came to see them. She rose from her seat at once when Mrs. +Vane came in, but a shadow of disappointment crossed her face when she +saw that the lady was alone. + +'I have not brought Biddy this time,' said Mrs. Vane kindly. 'I have +come to see Mrs. Fairchild myself. But Biddy shall come some day soon. +I want you to show her your doll-house, for I should be glad for her to +get into the way of playing with one. She has always been a difficult +child to amuse,' she went on; 'she is so restless, and never seems to +get interested in her toys or games.' + +Celestina opened her lips as if she were going to speak, but said +nothing. + +'What is it, my dear?' said Mrs. Vane, seeing the look in the little +girl's eyes. Celestina grew pink. + +'It was only,' she began. 'It's not so nice to play alone.' + +'No, that is true,' said Biddy's mother, 'and true of other things as +well as play.' Then she turned to Mrs. Fairchild: 'Have you been able +to----' she was beginning, but with a little gesture of apology Mrs. +Fairchild glanced at her daughter. + +'Go upstairs, Celestina, for a few minutes,' and in a moment Celestina +gathered together her small concerns and noiselessly left the room. + +'How obedient she is,' said Mrs. Vane with a little sigh. 'I should have +had quite an argument with Biddy, or at least cross looks.' + +'Children are very different,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'Still there is not +much you can do with them without obedience. And if they get the habit +of it quite young, it costs them so much less; they obey almost without +thinking about it.' + +'And have you seen Miss Neale?' asked Mrs. Vane after a little pause. + +'She came to see me yesterday, and I think it can be nicely arranged. +She is a very good girl: I feel sure you will be pleased with her. The +only difficulty would have been her promise about Celestina, which she +would not have liked to give up; but what you have so kindly proposed +puts this all right of course. It will be a great pleasure and interest +to Celestina to learn with a companion. I feel that I cannot thank you +enough.' + +'On the contrary,' said Mrs. Vane, 'I have to thank you. I am in hopes +that your little daughter's companionship will be of great good to +Bridget.' + +Mrs. Fairchild's gentle face grew a little red. + +'I think I may at least assure you of this,' she said, 'little Miss +Bridget will learn no harm from Celestina.' + +'I am sure of it,' said Mrs. Vane warmly. 'By the bye,' she added, +'Celestina is a very uncommon name. I have never heard it except in its +French form of "Celestine."' + +'Celestina was named after a French lady,' said Mrs. Fairchild--'a lady +who was very kind to my sisters and me when we were young. She happened +to be living near the town where our home was for some years. Her +husband had an appointment there. They had only one child, a daughter +named Celestine like her mother, who died, and my mother helped to nurse +her in her last illness, which made Madame d'Ermont very fond of her. +Indeed, I think she was very fond of us all,' she added with a little +smile, 'and I think I was a special pet of hers. Through her kindness +I had many advantages in my education. But when she and Monsieur, as we +always called him, went back to France troublous times came on. We lost +sight of them altogether. Still, I have never forgotten the dear lady, +and I determined to give my little girl her name.' + +Mrs. Vane listened with the greatest interest. + +'"Madame d'Ermont," did you say?' she asked eagerly, and on Mrs. +Fairchild's answering 'Yes'--'It must be the same,' she went on; 'our +Madame d'Ermont's name was Celestine too. She was, or is, for I hope she +is still living, a great friend of ours too, Mrs. Fairchild. We spent +two winters in the south of France near her home, and we saw a great +deal of her. It is a pity for you not to have kept up writing to her; +she is very kind and very rich and childless--she might be a good friend +to her little name-daughter.' + +Mrs. Fairchild's face flushed again: I rather think Biddy had inherited +something of her habit of hasty speech from her mother, kind-hearted and +good as Mrs. Vane was. + +'It would not be from any motive of _that_ kind I should like to hear +from Madame d'Ermont again,' said Celestina's mother. 'It is true our +child has no one to look to but ourselves, and neither her father nor +I can boast of very strong health--but still----' + +'Oh, I _beg_ your pardon,' interrupted Mrs. Vane impulsively; 'I quite +understand your feeling, and I did not mean to say anything you could +dislike. But still I will look out Madame d'Ermont's address, or get it +from my mother, and when I write to her I may tell her of you, may I +not?' + +'I should be very grateful if you would do so,' Mrs. Fairchild replied. + +Then they went on to speak of the details of the arrangement they had +been making, and soon after Mrs. Vane left. + +That afternoon she called Bridget to her. + +'Bride,' she said, 'I have something to say to you.' + +'Yes, mamma,' Biddy replied, but without giving much attention. It was +probably, she thought, only to reprove her for her way of sitting at +table, or for having been cross to Jane, or for one of the hundred and +one little misdemeanours she was always being guilty of. And Biddy was +in a queerish mood just now: there was a good deal of battling and +pulling two ways going on in her baby heart. Was the lazy little _soul_ +beginning to grow, I wonder? + +'Yes, mamma,' she said indifferently, with her peevish 'I didn't mean,' +quite ready to trot out on the smallest provocation. + +'You must give your attention, my dear,' said Mrs. Vane; 'it is +something rather particular I want to tell you about.' + +'I _am_ giving my attention,' said Biddy, though it did not look very +like it. + +'Well, then,' her mother went on, determined not to notice Bride's +evident wish to pick a quarrel, 'listen. You know that Miss Millet +cannot come back to us for a good long while. Alie's lessons do not +matter so much as yours, for she is very well on for her age and a +little rest will do her no harm; besides, she will have some lessons +with papa and some with me. But we have not time for you too.' + +'And you couldn't manage me if you had,' said Biddy gloomily. + +Mrs. Vane took no notice--'And besides, at your age it is most important +to be very regular. So I have engaged a daily governess for you, my dear +Biddy--that means a governess who will come every morning for three +hours, just to teach you. But she won't live in the house with us as +Miss Millet does.' + +'Won't she take us walks?' demanded Biddy. + +'Not every day, for some days she is engaged in the afternoons. But +twice a week she will come back in the afternoons and take you a walk +and stay to have tea with you. Her name is Miss Neale; she is very +nice, though she is younger and--less experienced than Miss Millet. +I hope you will be very good with her, Bride.' + +Bride gave herself a little shake. + +'No, mamma,' she said. 'I don't want to be naughty, but I can't help it. +I'm sure I shall be very naughty with her.' + +Mrs. Vane kept her patience. She looked at Biddy quietly. + +'Why, Biddy?' she asked. 'You are old enough to understand that I have +taken a good deal of trouble about this for you.' + +'I needn't have lessons till Miss Millet comes back; I'd be quite good +without. I don't like having lessons quite alone without Alie or +nobody,' said Biddy. + +'Would you like it better if you had some one to learn with you--some +one nearer your age than Alie, who would do the very same lessons?' +asked her mother. + +Biddy's eyes sparkled. + +'I should think I would,' she said, 'but there isn't nobody'--then she +gave a sort of gasp. 'Oh, if only--if Celestina could do lessons with +me,' she exclaimed. 'She knows lots, mamma, all about up at the top of +the world, where there isn't _really_ that stick I thought there was, +but lots of snow and always light--no, always dark, I forget which. I'll +ask her--the old lighthouse man told her. I'm sure she'd help me with my +jography, mamma, and she'd teach me to dress dolls and----' Biddy +stopped, quite out of breath. + +Mrs. Vane smiled; she looked very pleased. + +'I am very glad you have thought of it yourself, Biddy,' she said, 'for +it is the very thing I have planned. Celestina _is_ going to have +lessons with you. Her mother had already settled for Miss Neale to give +her lessons, as they don't care about Celestina going to school, so it +would not have been fair for Miss Neale to give her up to come to us. +And besides, both papa and I thought it would make our little girl +happier to have a companion--eh, Biddy?' + +Mrs. Vane had hardly time to finish her sentence before she felt her +breath nearly taken away by a pair of fat little arms hugging her so +tightly that she could scarcely free her head. + +'Mamma, mamma,' cried Biddy, 'I love you, I do really love you now. I +never thought I did so much. Oh, I am so glad. Thank you, dear mamma.' + +Never in her life had Biddy been so affectionate; never, at least, had +she shown her affection so much. Mrs. Vane kissed her warmly. + +'I am very pleased too, dear,' she said. 'I do think you will be a good +and happy little girl now.' + +'I'll try to be good, mamma, I will really. But it would take me a +dreadfully long time to be as good as Celestina, I'm afraid.' + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +A SECRET + + 'If the sun could tell us half + That he hears and sees, + Sometimes he would make us laugh, + Sometimes make us cry.' + CHRISTINA ROSSETTI. + + +'You must eat your breakfast properly, Celestina, my dear,' said Mrs. +Fairchild to her little daughter one morning in the following week. 'You +will be quite faint and tired before dinner-time if you don't, and that +would be a bad beginning.' + +Celestina on this set to work once more on her bread and milk. She was +too excited to feel hungry; her pale cheeks had each a bright spot of +colour and her eyes were shining. It was the day on which she was to +begin her lessons at the Rectory. Miss Neale was to call for her on her +way there, and though she had three-quarters of an hour to wait till +Miss Neale came, the little girl was sure she would not be ready in +time. + +'I never saw her so taken up with anything before,' said her mother; and +Mr. Fairchild, who was sometimes disposed to take rather a gloomy view +of things, said he hoped they should not regret having agreed to the +arrangement, and that it would not lead to disappointment, on which Mrs. +Fairchild set to work, as she always did, to cheer him up. + +'It will give Celestina a little experience,' she said; 'and even if +there should be a little disappointment mixed up with it in any way, it +will do her no harm, and Celestina is a reasonable child.' + +She was very quiet but very happy as she set off with Miss Neale. It was +a bright pleasant morning, 'quite spring-like,' said the young +governess, and a walk at that early hour was of itself a pleasure to +Celestina. She had not been inside the Rectory since the Vane family had +replaced old Dr. Bunton and his wife, and scarcely was the door open +when the little girl noticed a difference. The old, heavy, stuffy +furniture was gone, and though it was still plain, the house looked +lighter and brighter. The schoolroom was a nice little room looking +towards the sea; there was a good strong table with a black oil-cloth +cover and four hair-seated chairs, such as were much used at that time. +But there were two or three pretty pictures on the walls, and a cottage +piano, and in the bookcase were a few bright-coloured tempting volumes +as well as the graver-looking school-books. Everything was very neat, +and there was a bright fire burning, and in a pot on the window-sill a +geranium was growing and evidently flourishing. To Celestina it was a +perfect picture of a schoolroom, and she looked round with the greatest +interest as she took off her hat and jacket, according to Miss Neale's +directions, and hung them on a peg on the door. + +'You must be very neat here, you know, my dear,' she said; to which +Celestina meekly replied, 'Oh yes,' quite agreeing with Miss Neale. + +In a moment or two the door burst open and in came Biddy. A very +pleasant-looking Biddy, with a spotlessly clean apron, tidy hair, and +smiling face, and just behind her appeared her mother. + +'Good-morning, Miss Neale,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Here is Bridget, whom, you +have not seen before. Good-morning, Celestina. I hope you will be two +very happy and good little girls, and that Miss Neale will have no +trouble with you.' + +Then she went on to explain a little about the books Biddy used, saying +that Rosalys would look out any that might possibly be missing, and +after telling Miss Neale to keep up a good fire and one or two other +small directions of the kind, she left the schoolroom. + +Everything went on most smoothly. Miss Neale could hardly believe that +Bridget was the child she had been warned that she would find 'tiresome +and trying and requiring great patience.' For, for once Biddy really did +her best. She was interested in finding out how much Celestina knew +'compared with me,' and anxious that neither her little friend nor her +new teacher should think her stupid or backward. And though Celestina's +habits of steady attention had made her memory better and her knowledge +more thorough than Biddy's, still Miss Neale could hardly feel that +either of her pupils was more satisfactory than the other; both were so +obedient and attentive and intelligent. + +So the morning passed delightfully. + +'And won't it be nice?' said Biddy, as she stood at the gate, whither +she had accompanied Miss Neale and Celestina on their way home; 'the day +after to-morrow Miss Neale will come back to take us a walk in the +afternoon, and you may come too, mamma says, and stay to tea if your +mamma will let you.' + +How Celestina's eyes sparkled! To be invited to tea at the Rectory +seemed to her far more enchanting than if she had received an invitation +from the Queen of the Fairies to be present at one of her grandest +festivals. She was _so_ delighted that she forgot to speak, and Miss +Neale had to answer for her, and say that she would not forget to ask +Mrs. Fairchild's consent. + +'And some day, Celestina,' Biddy went on, 'I want you to ask your mamma +to ask _me_ to tea, for I want to see your dolls.' + +Celestina looked rather grave. + +'I'll ask mother,' she said, but there was a little hesitation in her +manner. This did not come from any false shame--Celestina did not know +what false shame was--but from very serious doubts as to what her father +and mother would think of it. She had never had any friend to tea in her +life; father was always tired in the evening, and she was far from sure +that a chattering child like Biddy would not annoy him and make his head +ache. So poor Celestina was rather silent and grave on the way home; +Biddy's thoughtless proposal had taken the edge off her happiness. + +On her way back to the house Bridget met Rosalys. + +'Well,' said Alie, 'and how did you get on, Biddy? How do you like your +new governess?' + +'_Ever_ so much better than Miss Millet,' Biddy replied. Her superhuman +exertions had somewhat tired her; she felt rather cross now, and half +inclined to quarrel. She knew that Alie was particularly fond of Miss +Millet, and she glanced at her curiously as she made her speech. But +Alie was a wise little woman. + +'I'm so glad,' she said. 'So glad you like Miss Neale, I mean. Of course +I knew you'd like Celestina.' + +'I don't like her so very much as all that,' said Biddy contradictorily. +'I like her well enough to do lessons with, but she's not very nice +about my going there to tea.' + +'Going there to tea,' Alie repeated. 'What do you mean, Biddy?' + +'Mean what I say. She's coming here to tea two times every week if it's +fine, so I think they might 'avite me sometimes, and when I said to her +just now I'd like to come, she looked quite funny and only said she'd +ask her mother. Not a bit as if she'd like it.' + +Rosalys felt very vexed. + +'Really, Biddy, you might know how to behave,' she said. 'People don't +offer themselves to other people like that.' + +'They do,' Bride retorted. 'I've heard papa say he was going to "offer +himself to luncheon" to Aunt Mary's, and----' + +'She's a relation,' Alie interrupted. + +'Well, and once mamma offered herself to tea to old Lady Butler--I know +she did--just before we went away at Christmas.' + +'That's quite different; she knows old Lady Butler so +well--and--and--mamma's grown up and knows what's right, and you're a +little girl, and you shouldn't do things like that without asking +leave,' said Rosalys decidedly. + +'You're a cross unkind thing,' said Biddy; 'and if you speak like that +I'll not go on being good any more.' + +Then she turned away from her sister and ran down a side-path of the +garden, leaving Rosalys looking after her in distress, and half inclined +to blame herself for having spoken sharply to Biddy. 'It will vex mamma +so if this new plan doesn't do,' she thought regretfully. 'But perhaps +Biddy will be good again when she comes in.' + +The path down which the little girl had run led to a low wall from which +you overlooked the sea. The tide was in, and though at some little +distance from the Rectory, Biddy could clearly see the water shining in +the morning sunshine, which was yellower and richer in colour now, for +the season was getting on; the cold thin wintry look was giving place in +this sheltered spot to the warmer feeling of spring. The little waves +came lapping in softly; by listening intently and fancying a little, +Biddy could almost hear the delicate sound they made as they kissed the +shore. + +'I wish it was warm enough to bathe,' thought Biddy. 'But if it was +_they'd_ be sure to say I mustn't, or that I was naughty or something,' +and in her anger at the imaginary cruelty of 'they,' she kicked the +little stones of the gravel at her feet as if it was their fault! But +the little stones were too meek to complain, and Biddy got tired of +kicking them, and seating herself astride on the wall, sat staring out +at the sea. Somehow it reminded her of her good resolutions, though it +was a quite different-looking sea from the evening tide, with the red +sun sinking below the horizon, like that first time on the shore. + +What a pity it was that she had spoilt the fresh beginning of being so +nice and good at her new lessons by being cross to Alie! And in her +heart Biddy knew that her sister had not blamed her without reason--it +was her old fault of heedlessness; she _was_ quite old enough to +understand that she should not have asked Celestina to invite her, and +she knew too that Celestina had been right in answering as she did. But +all these 'knowings in her heart' did not make Biddy feel more amiable. + +'It's no good trying,' she said to herself as she got slowly down off +the wall--Bridget was always deliberate in her movements--'I'll just not +bother. I'll do my lessons, 'cos I don't want them to say I'm stupid, +but I'm not going to try not to be cross and all that. I'm tired of +trying.' + +Mrs. Vane noticed at luncheon that Biddy was quiet and silent and not +particularly amiable looking, but Alie whispered that it had nothing to +do with lessons, which had gone off well. + +'Don't notice her, mamma; it was only that she was vexed with me for +something,' Alie added; so nothing was said to Biddy, and she was +allowed to nurse her grievances in silence. + +She cheered up a little by tea-time, and told Randolph triumphantly that +she had done all her lessons for Miss Neale 'by myself, without asking +that nasty cross Alie or nobody to help me.' But she remained very surly +to her sister, though Alie tried to prevent her father and mother +noticing it. + +Next day was rainy and blowy. Miss Neale and Celestina arrived smothered +up in waterproofs and goloshes, and there was quite a bustle to get them +unpacked from their wrappings and warmed at the schoolroom fire. Biddy +made herself very important, and forgot for the time about being vexed +with Rosalys. + +Lessons went off well, thanks to Bridget's putting a good deal of +control on herself, though there _were_ moments that morning which made +the young governess say to herself that she could understand its being +_sometimes_ true that Biddy was tiresome and trying. When Celestina was +putting on her hat and jacket to go she gave Biddy a little touch on the +arm. + +'I asked mother,' she whispered, 'about what you said, and mother says +perhaps some day you would come early in the afternoon, and we could +play with the dolls and have tea for ourselves out of mother's toy cups +that she had when she was a little girl. They are so pretty. It wouldn't +be quite a real tea, for we don't have real tea till past five, but I'm +sure mother would get us some little cakes, and we might make it a sort +of a feast.' + +Biddy's eyes sparkled. + +'Oh, that would be nice,' she exclaimed. 'Yes, please, tell your mother +I'd like to come very much. And just fancy, Celestina, that horrid Alie +said it was very rude of me to have asked you to ask me. I'm sure it +wasn't, now, was it?' + +Celestina grew red and hesitated. + +'I'm sure you didn't mean to be rude, Miss Biddy,' she said. 'Mother +said----' but here she stopped. + +'What did she say?' demanded Biddy. + +'I didn't mean to say that she said anything,' poor Celestina answered, +'only when you asked me----' + +'_What_ did she say?' Biddy repeated, stamping her foot. + +'She didn't say you were rude; she said you were only a child,' +Celestina answered quietly. Biddy's temper somehow calmed her. 'And +I think so too,' she added. + +'Then, _I_ think you're very, very unkind, and I'll never come to your +house at all,' said Biddy. + +And thus ended the second morning. + +Bridget was a queer child. By the next day she seemed to have forgotten +all about it. She was just as usual with Rosalys, and met Celestina +quite graciously. But it was not that she was ashamed of her temper or +anxious to make amends for it. It was there still quite ready to break +out again. But she was lazy, and very often she seemed to give in when +it was really that keeping up any quarrel was too much trouble to her. +I think, however, that Celestina's perfect gentleness did make her a +little ashamed. + +Lessons were on the whole satisfactory. Celestina worked so steadily +that she would soon have left Biddy behind had Biddy been as idle as had +often been the case under Miss Millet. And Mrs. Vane was pleased to +think that the plan had turned out so well. + +One day, about a week after Miss Neale had begun to teach the children, +just as they were finishing lessons, Rosalys made her appearance in the +schoolroom. It was one of the days on which Miss Neale and Celestina +came back in the afternoon to take the girls a walk and to stay to tea +afterwards. Rosalys looked pleased and eager. + +'Celestina,' she said, 'mamma has a little message for you. Please come +into the drawing-room before you go home this morning.' + +Up started Biddy. + +'What is it, Alie? Do tell me. Mayn't I come into the drawing-room with +Celestina?' + +Alie shook her head, though smilingly. + +'No,' she said; 'it's something quite private for Celestina.' + +'I'll come,' said the little girl, but Bridget's face darkened. + +'It's not fair,' she muttered, as Celestina, after carefully putting her +books away, left the room. + +'Come now, my dear,' said Miss Neale, not very wisely, perhaps--she +scarcely knew Biddy as yet--'you shouldn't be jealous. It's a very +little thing for Celestina to have a message to do for your mamma. Some +other time there will be one for you to do, I have no doubt.' + +Biddy wriggled impatiently. + +'They've no business not to tell me,' she said, taking not the least +notice of Miss Neale's words. Then she banged down her books and ran out +of the room without saying good-morning to her governess. + +Miss Neale did not see anything more of her till she and Celestina +returned that afternoon. It was a lovely day, and so as not to lose any +of the pleasant brightness of the afternoon, Mrs. Vane had made the +girls get ready early and go a little way down the sandy lane to meet +the two coming from Seacove. Bridget was gloomy, but Alie was +particularly cheerful, and after a while the younger sister's gloom gave +way before the sunshine and the fresh air and Alie's sweetness. + +'There they are,' she exclaimed, as two figures came in sight; 'shall we +run, Biddy?' and almost without waiting for a reply off she set, Bridget +following more slowly. + +When she got up to them Celestina and Alie were talking together +eagerly. They stopped short as Biddy ran up, but she heard Celestina's +last words, 'Mother says she'll be sure to get it by to-morrow or the +day after.' + +'What are you talking about?' asked Bridget. + +Celestina grew red but did not speak. Rosalys turned frankly to her +sister-- + +'It's a message of mamma's we can't tell you about,' she said, 'but +you'll know some time.' + +Alas, the brightness of the afternoon was over, as far as Biddy was +concerned. She turned away scowling. + +'Why should you know if I don't?' she said; 'and what business has +Celestina to know--she's as little as me nearly?' + +[Illustration: A SECRET. P. 148.] + +'Oh, Biddy,' said Alie reproachfully. + +But that was all. She knew that argument or persuasion was lost on her +sister once she was started on her hobby-horse, ill-temper. She could +only hope that she would forget about it by degrees. And after a while +it almost seemed so. They went down to the shore, where it was so bright +and pleasant that it did not seem possible for the crossest person in +the world to resist the soft yet fresh breeze, the sunshine glancing on +the sands, the sparkling water in the distance. And Miss Neale was full +of such good ideas. She taught them a new play of trying to walk +blindfold, or at least with their eyes shut, in a straight line, which +_sounds_ very easy, does it not? but is, I assure you, very difficult; +then they had a capital game of puss-in-the-corner, though the corners +of course were only marks in the sand; and with all this it was time +to go home to tea almost before they knew where they were. + +'How pretty it must be up in the lighthouse to-day,' said Celestina as +they were turning away. + +This was the signal for Bridget's quarrelsomeness again. + +'Miss Neale,' she said, shading her eyes from the sun, as she gazed out +towards the sea, 'Celestina does talk such nonsense. She says you can't +walk over the sands to the lighthouse. Now _can't_ you? I can _see_ sand +all the way.' + +Miss Neale was anxious not to contradict Biddy just as she seemed to be +coming round again, and she was really not quite sure on the point. + +'I can't say, my dear,' she replied. 'It does look as if you could--but +still----' + +'There now,' said Biddy to Celestina contemptuously, 'Miss Neale's +bigger than you, and she thinks you _can_; don't you, Miss Neale?' + +'Yes, yes, my dear,' Miss Neale, who was on some little way in front +with Alie, replied hastily; 'but come on--what does it matter?' + +But Biddy's tone had roused Celestina, gentle as she was. + +'I know you _can't_,' she said, 'and whether a big or a little person +says you can, I just _know_ you can't,' and she turned from Biddy and +walked on fast to join the others. Seeing her coming, Rosalys called to +her. + +'Celestina, I want to ask you something,' and in a moment the two were +talking together busily. + +'It's only the secret, Biddy,' said Alie laughingly; she did not know of +Biddy's new ill-humour. 'You mustn't mind.' + +Down came the black curtain thicker and thicker over Bridget's rosy +face; firmly she settled herself on her unmanageable steed. + +'I don't care,' she said to herself as she trudged along in silence +beside Miss Neale; 'they're horrid to me--_horrid_. And I'll be as +horrid as I can be to them. But I'll let that nasty Celestina see I'm +right and she's wrong. I _will_.' + + + + +CHAPTER X + +BIDDY'S ESCAPADE + + 'And Dick, though pale as any ghost, + Had only said to me, + "We're all right now, old lad."' + _Author of 'John Halifax.'_ + + +Miss Neale was rather in a hurry to get home that afternoon, so she and +Celestina did not linger at the tea-table as they sometimes did. By +half-past four they had gone, for on Miss Neale's account tea had been +ordered half an hour earlier than usual. + +Rosalys disappeared--mamma wanted her, she said. So Bridget was left +alone, for Rough had begun school some time ago. He rode over every +morning, and got home again about six. + +'I wonder if papa is in,' thought Biddy idly, for a moment or two half +inclined to see if she might pay him a visit in the study. But then she +remembered that he had been out all day, and that he was not expected +home till dinner-time. There were not many very poor people at Seacove, +but there were a great many young men and boys always about the wharf, +and some fishermen and their families living half-way between the little +town and a fishing village called Portscale, some way along the coast. +At Portscale there was a beautiful old church, and a vicar younger and +much more active than Dr. Bunton. Mr. Vane and he had made friends at +once, and to-day they had arranged to visit some of these outlying +neighbours together, for even though Mr. Vane was not at all strong and +had come to Seacove for a rest, he was far too good and energetic not to +do all he possibly could. + +Biddy felt very cross when she remembered that her father was out. She +strolled to the window; it was still bright and sunny--a sudden thought +struck her. She hurried upstairs to the room where her hat and jacket +were lying as she had just taken them off--her boots were still on her +feet, and in less time than it takes me to tell, for Biddy _could_ be +quick if she chose, a sturdy little figure might have been seen trotting +down the sandy path which led to the shore. + +'If they leave me alone I'm forced to amuse myself and do things +alone,' she said to herself, as a sort of excuse to her own conscience, +which _was_ trying, poor thing, to make itself heard, reminding her too +that there were plenty of things she could have done comfortably at home +in the nursery, where Jane Dodson was not bad company when allowed to +talk in her own slow way. There were to-morrow's lessons in the first +place--pleasant, easy lessons to do alone, and not too much of them; and +there was the kettle-holder she was making for grandmamma's birthday! +But no, Biddy refused to listen. She was determined to carry out the +wild scheme she had got in her head--'It _will_ be nice to put Celestina +down,' she said to herself. + +A very few minutes' quick walking, or running rather, for Biddy could +run too when she chose, brought her to the end, or the beginning, +whichever you like to call it, of the long rough road, so to speak, of +stones, stretching far out to sea. Biddy had gone some way along it two +or three times when out with the others; it was a very interesting place +to walk along, as the outgoing tide left dear little pools, which held +all sorts of treasures in the way of seaweed and tiny crabs and +jellyfish, besides which, the scrambling over the pools and picking +one's way was very exciting, especially when there was a merry party of +three or four together. Biddy found it amusing enough even by herself, +for some little time, that is to say. But after a while she got rather +tired of not being able to walk straight on, and once or twice sharp +stones cut and bruised her feet, and she wished she had some one's hand +to take to steady her. She was very eager to get to the other end of the +tongue, or ridge of stones, for once there she felt sure it would be but +easy walking over sand to the lighthouse. For the lighthouse as you will +have guessed, was her destination! + +'I daresay the sand'll be rather wet,' she thought; 'it must be the +wetness that Celestina thought was water, for it shines just like water +sometimes. I'll run over it very quick and my boots are thick. What fun +it'll be to tell Celestina I've been to the lighthouse all by myself!' + +But the stones grew rougher and rougher. The tongue was not really more +than half a mile long, but it seemed much more. Several times before she +got to the end of it Biddy looked back with a half acknowledged thought +that perhaps it would be best to give up the expedition after all--no +one need know she had tried it. But behind her by this time the rough +stones seemed a dreary way, and in front it did not now look far. She +felt as if she _could_ not go back, and she had a sort of vague hope +that somehow or other the nice old man Celestina had told her of would +help her to get home an easier way. Perhaps he would take her round in a +boat! + +At last she got to the end of the stones, and then, oh joy! there lay +before her a beautiful smooth stretch of ripple-marked sand--how +delightful it was to run along it, so firm and pleasant it felt to her +tired little feet. The lighthouse seemed still a good way off--farther +than she had expected, but at first, in the relief of having got off the +stones, she almost felt as if she could fly. She did get over the ground +pretty quickly for some minutes, and even when she began to go more +slowly she kept up a pretty good pace. And at last she saw the queer +building--it reminded her a little of an old pigeon-house at +grandmamma's, for it was not a very high lighthouse--almost close to +her. But, Celestina had spoken truly, between it and her there lay a +good-sized piece of water, stretching up to the rocks, or great rough +stones round the base of the lighthouse--a sort of lake which evidently +was always there, filled up afresh by each visit of the tide. + +Bridget gasped. But she was determined enough once she had made up her +mind. She went close up to the water; it did not look at all deep and +her skirts were very short. Down she sat on the sand, less dry than it +looked, and pulled off her shoes and stockings, tying them up into a +bundle as she had seen tramps do in the country. Then lifting her frock +as high as she could, in she plunged. _Oh_, how cold it was! But the +water did not come up very high, not over her knees, though now and then +a false step wetted her pretty badly. She was shivering all over, but on +she waded, till within a few yards only of the sort of little shore +surrounding the lighthouse, when--what was the matter with the sand, +what made it seem to go away from her all at once? She plunged about, +but on all sides it seemed to be sloping downwards; higher and higher +rose the water, till it was above her waist, and still every movement +made it rise. + +'I'm drowning,' screamed Biddy. 'Oh, help me, help me! Man in the +lighthouse, can't you hear me? Oh, oh, oh!' + +Biddy fortunately had good lungs and her screams carried well. But the +water kept rising, or rather she kept slipping farther down. She was +losing her head now, and had not the sense to stand still, and she was +partly stupefied by cold. It would have gone badly with her but +for--what I must now tell you about. + +It was what would be called, I suppose, a curious coincidence, the sort +of chance, so to say--though 'chance' is a word without real +meaning--that many people think only happens in story-books, in which +I do not at all agree, for I have known in real life far stranger +coincidences than I ever read of--well, it was by a very fortunate +coincidence that that very afternoon Bridget's father happened to be at +the lighthouse. He had gone out there by a sudden thought of Mr. +Mildmay's, the Portscale clergyman I told you of, who had mentioned in +talking that he had not been there for some time. + +'And it is a very fine mild day,' he said. 'It doesn't take twenty +minutes in a boat. If you don't think it would hurt you, Mr. Vane?' + +Mr. Vane was delighted. There was a good deal of the boy about him +still; he loved anything in the shape of a bit of fun, and he loved +boating. So off the two came, and were most pleasantly welcomed by old +Tobias and his second-in-command at the lighthouse. And by another happy +chance, just as Biddy began to wade, Mr. Vane had come to the side of +the lantern-room looking over in her direction. + +'What can that be, moving slowly through that bit of water?' he said to +Tobias. 'I am rather near-sighted. Is it a porpoise?' + +'Nay, nay, sir, not at this season,' replied the old man; 'besides it's +far too shallow for anything like that, though there is a deepish hole +near the middle.' + +He strolled across to where Mr. Vane was standing as he spoke, and +stared out where his visitor pointed to. Then suddenly he flung open one +of the glazed doors and stepped on to the round balcony--perhaps that is +not the right word to use for a lighthouse, but I do not know any +other--outside, followed by Mr. Vane. Just then Biddy's screams came +shrilly through the clear afternoon air, for it was a still day, and out +at the lighthouse, when there was no noise of wind and waves, there was +certainly nothing else to disturb the silence except perhaps the cry of +a sea-gull overhead, or now and then the sound of the fishermen's voices +as they passed by in their boats. And just now the waves were a long way +out and the winds were off I know not where--all the better for the poor +silly child, who, having got herself into this trouble, could do nothing +but scream shrilly and yet more shrilly in her terror. + +Old Tobias turned and looked at Mr. Vane. + +'It's a child, 'pon my soul, it's a child,' he exclaimed, and he sprang +inside again and made for the ladder leading downstairs. But quick as he +was, his visitor was before him. People talk of the miraculous quickness +of a mother's ears; a father's, I think, are sometimes quite as acute, +and Bridget's father loved dearly his self-willed, tiresome, +queer-tempered little girl. Long before he got to the top of the ladder +he knew more than old Tobias, more than any of them--Mr. Mildmay or +young Williams, the other lighthouse man--had any idea of. He knew that +the voice which had reached him was that of his own Biddy, and before +Tobias could give him a hint, or ever a word had been said as to what +was best to do, he had pulled off his coat, tossed away his hat, and was +up to his waist in the water. For though not _so_ deep close round the +lighthouse as at the dangerous place where Biddy had lost her head, this +salt-water lake even at low tide was never less than two or three feet +in depth at the farther side. + +'I can swim,' was all Mr. Vane called out to the three hurrying after +him. But so could Mr. Mildmay, and so could, of course, Tobias and +Williams. And it was not so much the fear of his friend's drowning as +the thought of the mischief that might come to him, delicate as he was, +from the chill and exposure, that made Mr. Mildmay shout after him, +'Come back, I entreat you, Vane; you are not fit for it,' while he +struggled to drag off a very heavy pair of boots he had on--boots he had +on purpose for rough shingly walking, but which he knew would weight him +terribly in the water. + +A touch on his arm made him start. It was Tobias. + +'Stop you here, sir,' he said; 'Bill's off, and he's the youngest and +spryest,' and sure enough there was Williams already within a few yards +of Mr. Vane. 'I don't take it there's much danger of no drownding--and +Bill knows the deep part. But it's cold for the gentleman, so delicate +as he is--we two had best stay dry and be ready to give 'em a hand when +they get in. But it beats me, it do, to think what child could be such a +fool as to try to cross that there water--such a thing's ne'er happened +before.' + +Mr. Mildmay did not like to give in, though he knew there was sense in +what Tobias said. He stood hesitating, one boot half off, but there was +not long to wait. Soon came a cheery cry from Williams, 'All right, sir, +all right,' and in almost less time than it takes to tell it, the two +men, half-swimming, half-wading, were seen returning, carrying between +them a little dripping figure, with streaming hair, white face, and +closed eyes. + +[Illustration: '----carrying between them a little dripping figure, with +streaming hair, white face, and closed eyes.' P. 161.] + +It was thus that Biddy paid her long thought-of visit to the lighthouse. + +She was not drowned, nor anything approaching to it; she had only once, +or twice perhaps, been thoroughly under the water; the whole had in +reality passed very quickly, but not so had it seemed to Biddy. Unless +you have ever been, or thought yourself in danger of drowning, you could +not understand how in such a case seconds seem minutes, and minutes +hours; and the ducking and the cold and the terror all combined had made +things seem worse than they really were. Bridget was almost quite +unconscious by the time her father had got hold of her--perfectly +stupefied any way; her clothes were heavy too, and she was at no time a +light weight. Altogether it was a very good thing indeed that strong +hardy Bill was close behind Mr. Vane, whose powers would not have held +out very long. As it was, he was whiter even than Biddy, his teeth +chattering with cold and nervous excitement, when at last the whole +party found themselves safe in the living-room or kitchen of the +lighthouse. + +Old Tobias had hot blankets down before the fire and a steaming tumbler +of brandy and water ready in no time. Biddy, deposited in front of the +grate, sat up and looked about her in a dazed sort of way. She felt as +if she were dreaming. + +'Biddy,' said her father, 'you must take off the wettest of your things +at once.' + +Biddy began to finger her garments. + +'My frock's the worst,' she said; 'and oh, where's my hat gone?' + +'Never mind your hat, child,' said Tobias. 'Here, step this way,' and he +led her to a sort of partition in the corner of the room, behind which +was his own bed; 'take off your things, my dear, and get into bed with +this blanket round you whiles I sees to the gentleman. You'll be none +the worse of your drenching: salt water's a deal better for not catching +cold. It's the gentleman we must see to. It's the new rector, and a +delicate gentleman he is.' + +Biddy stared up at him. + +'It's my papa,' she said. + +It was the old man's turn to stare now. + +'Your papa!' he exclaimed. He had never dreamt but that Biddy was a +Seacove child, tempted out too far by the fine afternoon--a fisherman's +or boatman's daughter. But however curious he was to hear more, he had +too much sense to cross-question her just then. + +'Get into bed, missie, and get to sleep for a bit, while your things +dry.' + +Biddy had had her share of weak brandy and water; she had never tasted +it before, and it soon sent her to sleep. + +Tobias went back to Mr. Vane. + +'She's all right, sir. I'd no notion as she was your young lady. Was she +awaitin' for you on the sands, or how?' + +Mr. Vane shook his head. + +'I know no more about it than you,' he said. But he still looked so +white and faint that the lighthouse man and the others gave all their +attention to getting him warmed and dried, and at last they got him to +look a little better, though he declared he could not go to sleep. + +'You can stay quiet any way,' said Mr. Mildmay. But Mr. Vane looked up +anxiously. + +'My wife,' he said. 'She will be getting frightened, not about me +merely, but the child.' + +'I will take the boat back at once and tell her,' said Mr. Mildmay; 'if +Williams can come with me, it won't take long. I'll run up to the +Rectory, and then we'll bring another man out to help to row us all back +again. I'll bring some wraps too. You think you'll be fit to go home in +an hour or so?' + +'Certainly,' said Mr. Vane decidedly. 'I could not stay here.' + +Mr. Mildmay reached the Rectory to find poor Mrs. Vane in a sad state of +fright. Biddy's absence had not been discovered for some time, as +Rosalys was busy with her mother, and Rough had not come in from school, +and everybody, if they thought about her at all, naturally thought she +was with some one else. For a girl of seven or eight should surely be +sensible enough to be left to herself for an hour in her own nursery or +schoolroom! But once the hue and cry after her began, it really did seem +as if there were cause for alarm. Every one had some new idea to +suggest, ending by Rough, who, as he came riding in on his pony and +heard the news, declared she must be hiding out of mischief. + +But no--a very short search dispelled that possibility, and the pony had +to be saddled again for Rough to set off as fast as he could to Seacove +to inquire if the truant had perhaps followed Celestina home. + +'And your father not in yet either,' said Mrs. Vane. 'Oh, Alie, what +_can_ be the matter? Can something have happened to him that Biddy has +heard of, and that has made her run off to him--poor Biddy, she is very +fond of papa. But if she has run away out of mischief, Alie--oh, _could_ +she be such a naughty, naughty girl?' + +Mrs. Vane was dreadfully excited. Alie had hard work to keep back her +own tears. + +'Just as we were _so_ happy about the doll-house for her too,' Mrs. Vane +went on. + +Rosalys gave a little sob. + +'I _think_ perhaps she's at Celestina's,' she said. But in less time +than could have been expected back dashed Rough. No, Biddy was not, had +not been at Pier Street, but Celestina and her mother were following him +as fast as they could to the Rectory--Celestina had an idea--she would +explain it all--but she begged Mrs. Vane to send down to the shore; the +sea was out, and it was still light enough to see any one there a good +way off. + +A party was at once despatched to the sands, in vain, as we know, for +by this time Mr. Mildmay had landed from his boat and was hurrying along +to calm Mrs. Vane's anxiety. He arrived there a quarter of an hour or so +after Mrs. Fairchild and her daughter, so Celestina had had time to +explain the idea which had struck her--we know what it was, and that it +was the true one--and to relate to Mrs. Vane all her reasons for +imagining it possible that self-willed, obstinate Biddy had set out on +her own account to walk to the lighthouse. + +So when Mr. Mildmay appeared and told his strange story, his hearers +were able to explain what to him and Mr. Vane had seemed a complete +mystery. + +'How _could_ she be so naughty?' Mrs. Vane exclaimed. But Alie touched +her gently. + +'Only, dear mamma,' she whispered, 'think; she might have been drowned.' + +'And so might your father, and as it is, I tremble to think what the +consequences may be for him. I do feel as if I could not forgive +Bridget,' said Mrs. Vane excitedly. + +Mrs. Fairchild was very, very sorry for her, but she was a brave woman. +She managed to draw Mrs. Vane aside. + +'Dear madam,' she said, 'I do feel for you. But we must be just. +Remember the child had no idea of what would be the result of her folly. +It was really but a piece of childish folly or naughtiness. And it may +be a lesson for all her life; it may be the turning-point for +her--if--if only you would--if you can meet her--gently--if nothing is +said to harden her.' + +'I will try. I promise you I will try,' said Mrs. Vane very softly. 'But +oh, Mrs. Fairchild, if it has made my husband ill!' and her voice broke. + +'We must hope not--hope and pray,' said Celestina's mother in a low +voice. + +'And there was something so interesting I wanted to tell you; I had a +letter to-day from Madame d'Ermont--such a nice letter. And now all this +has spoilt everything,' went on poor Mrs. Vane. + +'Never mind. You will tell me about it another time,' said Mrs. +Fairchild soothingly. 'Would it--excuse my suggesting it--would I be in +the way if I stayed till they come? I have some experience as to chills +and accidents of all sorts--and I would like to see how they are.' + +'Oh, thank you,' said Mrs. Vane fervently. 'I should be most grateful. +I have no one now with any head about me since my last maid left.' + +And Mrs. Fairchild stayed--not that evening only, but all night, sending +Celestina home to explain matters to her father. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +AND ITS CONSEQUENCES + + '"Love will make the lesson light. + ... Teach me how to learn it right," + Through her tears smiled Daisy.'--ANON. + + +For Mrs. Vane's troubles came thickly just then. Before night it was +evident that both Biddy and her father were not to escape all bad +results from the chill and wetting; and the Seacove doctor, who was sent +for at once, looked grave, shook his head as he murmured that it was no +doubt most unfortunate. He would say nothing decided beyond giving some +simple directions till he should see how the patients were the next day. +Biddy, after a violent fit of crying, which came on when she found her +father could not come 'to say good-night,' and begging, among her sobs, +to be forgiven, fell asleep, and slept heavily, to wake again in an hour +or two, feverish, restless, and slightly delirious. This, however, was +on the whole less alarming, for very little will make a child +light-headed, than Mr. Vane's condition. There was no sleep for him, +poor man; he was racked with pain and terribly awake--nervously anxious +to know the ins and outs of Biddy's escapade, and to soften it as much +as possible in her mother's eyes. Mrs. Vane kept her promise of being +very gentle with Biddy, and indeed, when in her room, and seeing the +poor little thing so ill, it was not difficult to be so. But once away +from her, and in sight of her husband's sufferings, the irritation +against Biddy grew almost too great to keep down. And Mrs. Vane was not +very good at keeping down or keeping in her feelings, and each time she +burst out it seemed to make Mr. Vane worse. There was no going to bed +for either her or Mrs. Fairchild that night; indeed, what she would have +done without Celestina's wise and gentle mother I do not know. It was +she who sensibly made the best of it all, soothing Mrs. Vane, who really +needed it almost as much as Biddy and her father; and the only snatches +of sleep Mr. Vane got were when her soft and pleasant voice had been +reading aloud to him. + +'I don't know how to thank you,' said Biddy's mother tearfully the next +morning early, when she at last persuaded Mrs. Fairchild to lie down a +little. 'Can't you stay all day to rest?' + +But Mrs. Fairchild shook her head, smiling. + +'I must go home,' she said. 'At the latest I must go home by ten +o'clock. It will be all right till then. I can trust Celestina to see to +her father's breakfast and everything, and there's not much doing in the +shop before then. Celestina will have let Miss Neale know not to come.' + +'How well you have brought your little girl up--how thoughtful and +womanly she is; and to think that she is only a year or two older than +Bridget!' said Mrs. Vane sadly. + +'It has not been exactly my doing,' Celestina's mother replied. 'I often +think the very things I would have wished different for her have been +the best training. She has _had_ to be helpful and thoughtful; she has +had her own duties and share of responsibility almost all her life.' + +'Biddy never feels responsible for anything--not even for learning her +lessons or being ready for meals,' said her mother. + +'Well, that is just what wants awaking in her. This lesson may show her +that even a child is responsible, that a child may cause sad trouble. +One would rather she had learnt it the other way, but it may be what she +needed.' + +Mrs. Vane sighed. She wanted to be patient, but she could hardly bring +herself to feel that a lesson which was to cost Biddy's father such +suffering, nay, even to risk his life perhaps, would not be too dearly +bought. + +The doctor came, but he was not much more outspoken than the night +before. Biddy was to be kept very quiet, the more she could sleep the +better; as for Mr. Vane, he _hoped_ it would not be rheumatic fever, but +it was plain he feared it. And he advised Mrs. Vane to get a trained +nurse. + +A trying time followed. For some days it seemed almost certain that Mr. +Vane was in for rheumatic fever; in the end he just managed to escape +it, but he was sadly weakened, and the cough, which had disappeared +since his coming to Seacove, began again. It would be weeks before he +could leave his room. + +And Biddy, too, did not get well as had been expected. She lay there +white and silent as if she did not want to get better, only seeming +thoroughly to wake up when she asked, as she did at least every two +hours, how papa was, and sinking back again when the usual answer came +of 'No better,' or 'Very little better.' Her mother was very kind to +her, but she could not be much with Biddy, and perhaps it was as well, +for it would have been almost impossible for her to hide for long her +great unhappiness about Mr. Vane. + +Mrs. Fairchild came to the Rectory as often as she could; sometimes she +sat with Biddy for an hour or more at a time, but Biddy scarcely spoke, +and Celestina's mother was both sorry for her and anxious about her. + +'There seems no one able to pay much attention to her,' she said one +evening at home; 'poor Mrs. Vane is so taken up, and no wonder, with her +husband, and Rosalys is as busy as she can be, helping and seeing to +everything.' + +There came a little voice from the other side of the table: the +Fairchilds were at tea. + +'Mother, do you think I might go to see her?' it asked. 'I'd be very +quiet.' + +'I'll ask,' Mrs. Fairchild answered. 'You might come with me to-morrow +and wait outside while I find out if it would do.' + +Mrs. Vane had no objection--Biddy was really not ill now, she said. It +was just one of her queer ways to lie still and refuse to get up. +Perhaps Celestina would make her ashamed of herself. So Celestina was +brought upstairs, and tapped gently at the door. + +'Come in,' said Bridget, though without looking up. But when the neat +little figure came forward, close to the bedside, and she glanced round +and saw who it was, a smile came over her face--the first for a long +time. + +'Celestina!' she exclaimed joyfully. But then the smile died away again, +and a red flush covered her cheeks and forehead. 'No,' she said, turning +on the other side, 'I don't want to see you. Go away.' + +Celestina felt very distressed. But she wanted to do Biddy good, so she +put back her own feelings. + +'Please don't say that,' she said. 'I'll stay as quiet as anything, but +please don't send me away. I've been so wanting to see you.' + +There was a slight turning towards her on this, and at last Biddy lifted +her head from the pillow a little. + +'Did you truly want to see me?' she said. + +'Of course I did. I've been very sorry about you being ill,' Celestina +replied. + +Biddy did not speak. Then Celestina heard a faint sound, and going up a +little closer still, she saw that Biddy was crying. + +'Dear Miss Biddy,' she whispered. Then a pair of hot little arms, not so +fat as they had been, were stretched out and thrown round her neck. + +'Will you kiss me, Celestina?' whispered Bridget. 'Do you really love +me? If you do, you're the only one. I'm too naughty--I've been too +naughty. I've as good as killed papa--I know he's going to die. I heard +them saying the first night I'd as good as killed him, though I pretended +not to hear. And I've been trying to die myself; I thought p'raps if I +prayed a great, great lot to be forgiven, God would forgive me before I +died. But I want to die, because I'm so naughty I'm only a trouble. And +I _couldn't_ live without papa, knowing I'd as good as killed him. Oh, +Celestina,' and here the voice grew so low that Celestina could scarcely +hear it, 'are you quite sure that papa hasn't died already and they +won't tell me?' and Celestina felt her shiver. + +'I heard him speaking as I came upstairs,' said Celestina, so quietly +that Biddy believed her perfectly; 'the door of his room was open. +I think he must be a little better to-day.' + +'Oh,' said Biddy with a gasp, 'I do wonder if he is.' + +'And----' Celestina began, then stopped again, 'I don't think you should +talk about trying to die like that,' she said. 'I--I think it would be +rather a lazy way of being sorry for what we'd done wrong just to try to +die.' + +'I suppose it's because I'm lazy then. They all say I'm very lazy,' +Biddy replied. 'But I can't help it. I'm not going to try and be good +any more. I fixed that before--before that day. It's no use.' + +Celestina considered a little. + +'I should think,' she said at last--'I should think you would want to +get better to help to take care of your papa and make him better.' + +Biddy started at this. It was a new idea. + +'Do you think they'd let me?' she said in a half whisper. 'I thought I +was too little. Did you ever help to take care of your papa when he was +ill? But p'raps he's never been ill?' + +'Oh yes, he has,' said Celestina, with a sigh. 'I think he's iller than +your papa very often. I do lots of things for him then: I make his tea +always, and tidy his room. And sometimes when he's getting better and +comes downstairs to the parlour I read aloud to him. For when he's ill, +mother has all the more to be in the shop, you know.' + +Bridget listened intently. At last-- + +'Celestina,' she said, 'I do wish I could see papa. It would make me +_quite_ sure he's alive, you know, for it all seems so muddled in my +head since the day I was so naughty. And if he'd forgive me, and if he'd +get better, I think, _perhaps_, I'd ask God to make me better too, so +that I might make papa's tea and read aloud to him like you do.' + +'Perhaps it wouldn't be exactly that,' said Celestina, a little afraid +of the responsibility of putting anything into Bridget's head, 'but I'm +sure you could do _something_. And why shouldn't you see him? Miss Alie +was in his room just now.' + +Bridget would have hung her head if she had not been lying down. As it +was, she looked ashamed. + +'He mustn't get up at all, you know,' she said. 'And one day when they +offered me to go to see him, I wouldn't.' + +'You wouldn't?' exclaimed Celestina. + +'No,' said Biddy; 'I didn't want to see him looking like he did that +day.' + +'But you'd like to see him now, wouldn't you?' + +'Yes,' said Biddy. 'If you were to get me my dressing-gown, Celestina, +don't you think I might just run down the passage and the little stair +and go to see him? He lies on the sofa in his room, Alie said one day.' + +Celestina looked frightened. + +'Don't you think you should ask your mamma first?' she said. 'Besides, +I thought you were too ill to walk.' + +'Oh no,' said Bridget; 'I think I could walk if I tried. But you may go +and ask mamma if you like; I'm sure she'll say I may.' + +Off flew Celestina. She too felt pretty sure that Mrs. Vane would be +pleased to hear of Biddy's wish. But when she got to the room where she +had left her mother with Mrs. Vane, they were not there, and Alie, who +came in a moment afterwards, said they were walking up and down the +garden; if Celestina would go out she would be sure to meet them. 'And +mamma will be very pleased to hear that Biddy wants to go to see papa. +He has asked for her several times, but he said she wasn't to be forced, +not till she felt inclined. Papa _is_ so good and patient, and he is +really a little bit better to-day,' said Rosalys brightly. + +Upstairs Bridget was eagerly waiting for Celestina's return. She had got +out of bed and reached down her dressing-gown for herself, feeling +rather surprised at finding how well she could walk; she had found her +slippers too, and stood there leaning against the bed, quite ready for +her little expedition. + +After a while she crept to the door and peeped out. Sounds, cheerful +sounds of the usual morning stir in a well-managed house came up the +stairs; she heard faint clatter from the kitchen, and now and then a +little laugh or a few words of the servants talking together. But no one +was about upstairs. + +'Papa must be a little better,' thought Bridget, 'else they wouldn't +seem like that. I do wish Celestina would come back. I wonder if she's +forgotten?' + +She edged herself a tiny bit into the passage. It did not seem far, only +along by the balusters and down the little stair to papa's room; and +just then came a sound which seemed to go straight to Biddy's heart. It +was papa's cough--not a very bad one, just his usual little cough. It +seemed to waken her up--till now she had felt almost as if in a sort of +dream; it was so queer to feel and hear all the house-life going on the +same as ever when she had been out of it so long, for ten or twelve days +is a long time to a child--but the sound of papa's cough seemed to make +everything real, to join the past and the present together again, still +more, to touch a spring in Biddy which I think she had scarcely known +was there. And without stopping to think any more, off she set, along +the passage and down the stair, till she found herself, breathless and +rather giddy, but full of eagerness, at her father's door. + +It was open, as Celestina had said, and half shy now, Biddy peeped in. +He was lying on a couch between the fire and the window; it was a bright +spring-like morning--he had a book in his hand, but he did not seem to +be reading; he was quite still, his eyes were gazing out to the clear +blue sky, and the look in his face was very sweet. Then again came the +little cough. That was the signal. In rushed Biddy. + +'Papa, dear papa,' she cried, as she half threw herself, half tumbled +upon him, for she felt giddy again with moving so fast. 'Dear papa, are +you getting better? Please don't die, dear papa, and I _will_ try to be +good. And oh, please forgive me, and don't say I as good as killed you.' + +'My poor little Biddy,' said Mr. Vane, raising himself so as to see her, +and drawing her tenderly on to the couch beside him,--'my poor little +Biddy. So you've come to see me at last! And are you getting better, +dear?' + +'Yes, yes, papa, but please tell me you're not going to die because of +me,' and Biddy began to cry, but gently, not in her old way. + +Mr. Vane tried to speak, but his cough was troublesome. + +'I think I'm a little better, dear,' he said, 'and, please God, I hope +to be better yet. And it will be a great help to me if I see you quite +well again, and trying to be of use to mamma, Biddy, and to Alie. You +can help to nurse me, you know.' + +Biddy looked up. The very things Celestina had said! + +'Papa!' she said, 'might I really? Would mamma let me? Will everybody +forgive me?' + +Was it Biddy speaking? Even her father could scarcely believe it. + +Just at that moment Mrs. Vane came hurriedly into the room: she had been +to Biddy's, on receiving Celestina's message, and finding the bird +flown, had naturally taken alarm. + +'_Biddy!_' she exclaimed, as she caught sight of the child beside her +father, his arm round her, her eager flushed face looking up at him--and +her tone was rather anxious and annoyed. But Mr. Vane glanced at his +wife with a little sign which she understood. She came quickly towards +them. + +'Biddy,' whispered her father, 'here is mamma.' + +Bridget's face worked for a moment, then she flung her arms round her +mother's neck. + +'Mamma, mamma,' she whispered, 'I'm going to try to be good--if only +you'll forgive me. I don't want to die if I can be good and help to +nurse papa. Mamma, there was something _very_ sorry came into my heart +when papa got me out of the water and I saw how white he was. But I +wouldn't listen to it, and it got hard and horrid. But now it's come +again--Celestina began it, and I _will_ be good--and _don't_ you think +God will make papa better?' + +I don't think Mrs. Vane had ever kissed Biddy as she kissed her then. + + * * * * * + +Doctors say that _wishing_ to get better has a good deal to do with it. +It did seem so in Mr. Vane's case; he was not afraid to die, but he was +still young, and it seemed to him that if he were spared to live there +were many good and useful things he could do. And he was a happy and +cheerful man; he loved being alive, and he loved this beautiful world, +and longed to make other people as happy as he was himself. Most of all +he loved his wife and children, and his great wish to get well was for +their sake more than for any other reason. And never during the several +illnesses he had had did he wish _quite_ so much to get well as now. For +he had a feeling that if he did not recover a sad shadow would be cast +over Biddy's life--a shadow that would not grow lighter but darker, he +feared, as she came more fully to understand that her folly or childish +naughtiness had been the cause of his illness and death. + +'It would leave a sore memory in her mother's heart too,' Mr. Vane said +to himself, 'however much she tried not to let it come between her and +the child.' + +And I fear it would have done so. + +So Biddy's father did his best to get well. Not by fidgeting and +worrying and thinking of nothing but his own symptoms, but by cheerful +patience. He obeyed the doctor's orders exactly, and forced himself to +believe that the work he would fain have been doing would get done, by +God's help, even though _he_ might not do it; he kept up his interest in +all going on about him, watching with the keenest interest the pretty, +shy approaches of the spring from his window; he read as much as he was +allowed, and helped Rough with his lessons in the evening, and had a +bright smile for everybody at all times. + +'I almost feel as if he were too good to live,' said Mrs. Fairchild one +evening to Celestina and her father, when she had returned from a visit +to the rectory. But this time it was Mr. Fairchild's turn to speak +cheerily, for he too had been spending an hour or two with the invalid +that day. + +'I saw a decided improvement to-day,' he said. 'I do think Mr. Vane's +patience is wonderful, but I have a strong feeling that he is really +beginning to gain ground.' + +Celestina's eyes sparkled with pleasure, and so did her mother's. The +two families had grown very much attached to each other in these few +weeks. + +'_Won't_ they all be happy when he gets well?' said the little girl. +'And oh, mother, isn't dear little Biddy different from what she was? +She is so gentle and thoughtful, and she's hardly _never_ cross. She +does so many little things to help.' + +Mrs. Fairchild smiled. In her heart she thought that Celestina had +certainly had a hand in this pleasant change, but she would not say so. +Children got less praised '_then_-a-days,' as a little friend of mine +calls long ago, for their parents were exceedingly afraid of spoiling +them, and the thought of taking any credit to herself had never entered +the child's mind. + +'I do hope,' she went on, 'that Biddy's papa will be nearly quite well +by her birthday. It'll come in a month, you know, mother, and the +doll-house is almost quite ready. Mrs. Vane has begun working at it +again the last few days, and Rosalys and I and Miss Neale have all been +helping. It _will_ be so lovely, mother,' and Celestina's face lighted +up with pleasure quite as great as if it was all for herself. + +Truly, selfish people have _no_ idea what happiness they miss! + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +ANOTHER BIRTHDAY + + 'Rare as is true love, true friendship is still rarer.' + LA ROCHEFOUCAULD. + + +Bridget's birthday came in May--the middle of May. From the time I have +told you about in the last chapter Mr. Vane went on getting slowly +better; at least he got no worse. But it did seem very slow. At last +there came a day on which the doctor gave him leave to go downstairs. + +'I want to see what he can do,' the doctor explained. 'At this rate we +might go on for months and gain little ground. Perhaps he is stronger +than he seems.' + +They were all very eager and excited about this great step. It was an +'afternoon' day, as the little girls called those days on which +Celestina and Miss Neale came back again, and this afternoon Mrs. +Fairchild came with them. Mrs. Vane was thankful to have her at hand in +case of any help being needed. And all the children were sent out for a +walk, with the promise of finding papa in the drawing-room when they +came in again. + +But as they were coming home they were met by Rough at the Rectory gate. +It was one of his occasional half-days. He ran out to meet them, but he +looked rather grave. + +'Is papa down? Is he in the drawing-room?' cried Rosalys and Biddy. + +'Yes,' said Rough; 'but mamma's been rather frightened about him. He +seems so weak. She's sent me for the doctor, and he's there now. So you +must not go in to see papa. That's why I came to meet you.' + +Alie's face fell and Biddy's grew very red. + +'I'm sure _we_ shouldn't hurt him,' she said. 'It's all that nasty +doctor,' and she almost looked as if she were going to get into one of +her old tempers. + +Celestina took hold of her hand gently. + +'Don't, Biddy dear,' she whispered. 'Perhaps when the doctor goes you'll +see him;' which did Bridget far more good than if she had overheard, as +she luckily did not, Rough's remark to Alie: 'I don't think _she's_ any +right to grumble when it's all her doing.' + +It was not a kind thing to say, but then Rough's heart was sore and +anxious, and when one feels so it is difficult not to be cross and +sharp. All their hearts were sore, I think. Children jump on so fast in +their minds. Bride and Rough, and Alie too, I daresay, had fancied to +themselves that once 'downstairs' again papa would seem directly like +himself, and this news was a great disappointment. So the little party +went in rather sadly, Miss Neale telling them in a low voice to take off +their things and come down to tea in the schoolroom as quietly as +possible, Rough, over whom her authority did not extend, stationing +himself at the front door to watch for the doctor's departure. + +He stayed some time, and when he had gone Mr. Vane asked for the +children. + +'In a little,' Mrs. Vane answered. Then she turned to Celestina's +mother. 'This idea has rather taken my breath away,' she said, but her +voice was pretty cheerful. + +'I hardly see how it is to be managed,' said Mr. Vane, for once rather +despondently. + +'We will talk it all over afterwards,' said Mrs. Vane, at a little sign +from Celestina's mother; 'and now we will leave you to rest a while.' + +'Oh dear, Mrs. Fairchild,' she said, when they were alone in the next +room, 'I wonder what we can do. It is dreadful to think of going +abroad--to be alone among strangers, and my husband so ill. And then +leaving the children. I cannot send them to my mother. Her house is full +with my eldest brother's family home from India.' + +'I think they would get on very well here,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'And +your own governess will be back in a fortnight. Of course Miss Neale +would be too young for such a charge; besides, she cannot leave her +mother. And--you must excuse my suggesting it--but is not Madame +d'Ermont's home somewhere in the south?' + +'To be sure,' exclaimed Mrs. Vane, starting up joyfully; 'how stupid of +me not to have thought of it! Thank you so much for reminding me. I have +her last letter here. You have written to her yourself, have you not?' + +'Yes, indeed. I wrote to thank her very much for her kindness,' said +Mrs. Fairchild. 'It may be of the greatest advantage to Celestina some +day.' + +For I have been so busy with the story of Biddy's escapade and its +consequences, that I have put off too long telling of the French lady's +kind letter to Mrs. Vane about her old friend Mrs. Fairchild and her +little name-daughter Celestina. + +'It has touched me very much,' she wrote, 'to find I was still +remembered; and if ever I can be of use to little Celestine and her +mother I hope she or you will let me know.' + +Well, the doctor had ordered Mr. Vane to go abroad, as I daresay you +will have guessed. + +It was a sad disappointment, just when they had come to Seacove and he +seemed so well, and though no one reproached her, Bridget felt that the +consequences of her self-will were not to be soon forgotten. + +It was all settled very quickly; and from the time it was settled Mr. +Vane, 'out of contradiction,' he said laughing, really seemed to improve +faster than hitherto. So that he was looking a good deal more like 'a +proper papa,' as Alie said, the day he and Mrs. Vane started on their +long journey. + +'I am so glad you are going to be near that nice old lady,' said Alie, +amidst her tears; 'and oh, mamma dear, I will try to do everything you +would like.' + +'I am sure you will, darling, and it is a great comfort to feel so much +happier about Biddy now. You will try to make a nice birthday for her, +I know.' + +'There'll be the surprise--that's something nice to look forward to. And +we may have Celestina as often as we like, mayn't we?' + +'As often as her mother can spare her, of course,' Mrs. Vane answered. + +Then came Biddy. She was not crying, though she winked her eyes a good +deal. + +'Mamma, I'll try to be good,' she said bluntly; 'and if papa gets quite +well again'--here her voice broke. 'Oh, mamma, if only it was the day +for you and papa to come back, and him quite, _quite_ well. Mamma, I +think I'd never be naughty again.' + +This was a great, great deal from Biddy! + +That day _did_ come, but a good many other days had to pass before it +came, and some of these were rather sad and anxious ones. For the first +letters from abroad were not as cheerful as Mrs. Vane would have liked +to make them for the little party so eagerly awaiting them at Seacove +Rectory. Mr. Vane was very tired by the journey, and had it not been for +the kindness of Madame d'Ermont, who would not hear of them staying +anywhere but in her house, at any rate till he grew stronger, Mrs. Vane +said she felt as if she would have lost heart altogether. But after a +little things brightened up again. 'Papa really seems to get stronger +every day,' she wrote; and on Bridget's birthday morning there came a +letter from papa himself, all scented with the sweet violets he had +slipped into it--for that was long before the days of parcel posts, by +which flowers reach us from the south of France and Italy as fresh as if +we had just gathered them in our own gardens--and telling of quite a +long walk he had been able to take without feeling too tired. The letter +ended up with wishing Biddy a truly happy birthday, and hopes that it +might be bright and sunny at Seacove. 'I only wish I could pack up some +of the sunshine here to send you,' wrote Mr. Vane, 'for we have enough +and to spare of it. But after all, the best sunshine of all is that of +happy and contented and loving hearts--is it not, my Biddy?' + +There was sunshine of both kinds that day at the Rectory. Celestina came +early, almost immediately after breakfast indeed, so as to be present at +the great 'surprise.' She was to spend the whole day for once with her +friends, which was a great treat, though she saw them regularly once or +twice a week when she came to have a French lesson from Miss Millet. +Mrs. Vane had arranged this before she left, for little Miss Neale, who +now gave Celestina lessons every day at Pier Street, could not teach +French, and it was a great pleasure, and help too, to Biddy to have +industrious, attentive Celestina still her companion in something. + +But to-day, of course, there was no question of lessons of any kind. + +They had breakfast extra early, which some children I know, would not, +I fear, consider a treat. Indeed, I once heard of some young people, +scarcely to be called children, and by no means overworked young people +either, who chose for a holiday pleasure that they should stay in bed +for breakfast, and not get up till the middle of the day, which, I must +say, I did not at all admire. The great reason for the extra early +breakfast on Biddy's birthday was not that the Vane children were so +_very_ fond of being up betimes, but that Rough wanted to be there at +the great scene, and with some difficulty he had got an hour's 'grace' +from school that morning. + +To begin at the beginning--for I know that when I was a child I liked to +be told all about everything--the first pleasure of the day, after the +reading of papa's nice letter, was the sight of the breakfast-table. +Kind Miss Millet and Alie had dressed it up with cowslips after Biddy +had gone to bed the night before, for there were cowslips, and very +pretty ones, to be had in some woods a mile or two inland from Seacove. +And May birthdays always make one think of cowslips. + +The breakfast itself was very nice too--extra nice; for there was no +bread and milk for once, but only 'grown-up' things--a tempting dish of +ham and eggs, and delicious hot rolls and tea-cakes, and strawberry jam +and honey to eat with them as a finish up. And besides the letter from +papa--which had _really_ come the day before and been kept till this +morning, as, in his fear of being too late, Mr. Vane had sent it off +rather too soon--there was a neat little packet for Biddy from +grandmamma, containing a story-book called _The Christmas Stocking_, and +a lovely scarf worked in all kinds of marvellous Eastern colours, +'making one think of the Arabian nights,' as Alie said, from the Indian +cousins. So that it was with a sigh of deep content that Biddy sat down +to breakfast, knowing that something still more delightful and wonderful +was in store. + +Celestina arrived before breakfast was quite over, and Rough ran out and +brought her into the dining-room, where she had to eat a roll and +strawberry jam to refresh her after her early walk. And then when every +one had finished and Rough had said grace, they all set off to the +schoolroom. + +'Shut your eyes, Biddy,' said Rough. 'I'll lead you in, and mind you +don't open them till I tell you.' + +There stood Biddy, as quiet as a mouse, though her heart was beating +fast, till, after one or two whispered directions--'That isn't quite +straight,' 'Put the chairs by the fire, Celestina,' and so on--came +Rough's voice-- + +'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes.' + +[Illustration: 'Now, Biddy. Open your eyes.' P. 195.] + +And 'open her eyes' she did, though she half shut them again the next +minute, and then had to rub them to make sure they were not tricking +her. For there in front of her, on the schoolroom table, stood, its two +big doors flung wide open, the very nicest, most complete doll-house +that, in those days at least, could have been imagined. There were six +good-sized rooms: drawing-room, dining-room, two bedrooms, nursery, and +kitchen--the last, perhaps, the most fascinating of all, with its little +kitchen-range, its rows of brightly shining pots and pans, some black, +some tin, and some copper; its dresser and shelves, and charming dinner +service, and ever so many other things it would take me a very long time +to describe. And the dining-room, with its brown and gold papered walls, +and red velvet carpet and little stuffed chairs; and the drawing-room, +with sofas covered in dainty chintz and blue carpet and gilt-framed +mirrors; and the bedrooms, one white and one pink; and the nursery, with +the _sweet_ little cradle and rocking-chair and baths and wash-hand +stands and I don't know all what--truly it was a very pretty sight. +Biddy gasped; she could not speak. + +'And only think, Biddy,' said Rosalys; 'it is our own old doll-house +done up. The one mamma had herself when she was a little girl, you know. +Doesn't that make it all the nicer? You _can't_ think how we've all +worked at it. We'd begun it before--before papa and you got ill; that +was our secret that Celestina and I were always whispering about.' + +And in her delight even staid Alie gave two or three jumps up into the +air! But as she came down again she felt herself caught round the neck +and hugged and squeezed. Oh, how she _was_ hugged and squeezed! + +And '_Oh_, Alie,' whispered Biddy, 'you are too good to me; for you +don't know how naughty I felt about your having a secret.' + +'Never mind, never mind. I daresay it was my fault. Mamma says it's very +teasing to talk about secrets, but it's all right now, and we are all +going to be so happy with the doll-house, aren't we? Now you must kiss +Celestina too; you don't know what a lot she's done. She hemmed the +sheets of the beds and the table-cloths and ever so many things, and her +mamma dressed the dolls--and--oh yes, Roughie papered nearly all the +rooms, and----' + +But here Rosalys, who seemed to be turning all of a sudden into a +regular chatterbox, was interrupted by more huggings and squeezings, as +Rough rather objected to much of this sort of thing, and Biddy had still +a great deal to spare even after she had bestowed a full share upon +Celestina. She quieted down, however, when Miss Millet suggested that +unless they set to work to go all over the house and admire all its +numberless treasures, it would be getting too late for the nice walk +they wanted to have before dinner. But in the midst of the showing +everything Celestina made them all laugh by calmly taking a little +parcel from her pocket, from which she drew out three or four little +dolls, announcing that they were Eleanor and Amy and one or two new +ones, all in grand clothes for the occasion, who had come to spend the +day with the Rectory doll party. + +'You did invite them, Alie, you remember, don't you?' she said, looking +a little bit aggrieved. 'They would never have come without being +invited.' + +'Oh yes, I know I did,' Rosalys replied. 'It was only the funny way you +pulled them out of your pocket.' + +'And some day, Biddy, mother says, perhaps you'll bring yours to drink +tea with mine,' said Celestina, quite pleased again. 'We might pretend +that mine were some cousins they had in the country who were not very +rich, you know,' she went on simply. 'And I'd make their parlour as +smart as I could. I'd try to dress it up with flowers and green, so that +it would be like an arbour.' + +'Yes,' said Biddy, 'that _would_ be nice. And _we_ might have tea as +well as the dolls, mightn't we, Celestina? You know once you told me +about some little cups you have that we might have tea out of.' + +'Oh yes,' Celestina replied hospitably, '_of course_ we'd have real tea +too. Mother would make some cakes and----' + +'My dears,' said Miss Millet, 'I think we must be going out. You will +have all the rest of the day to play with the doll-house, but it is such +a lovely morning, and I think it's always so nice to have a good walk on +a holiday.' + +The little girls were quite of their governess's opinion, only sorry +that Randolph could not make one of the party. He came home, however, in +good time in the afternoon, and they all had a very merry tea together. + +'What a nice birthday it's been!' said Bride, as she and Alie kissed +Celestina, whose mother managed to spare an hour to come to fetch her +and at the same time to wish Biddy 'many happy returns.' 'How good of +you to dress the dolls for me, Mrs. Fairchild!' she went on. 'I think +I shall love the doll-house more and more every day, for, you see, it's +full of kind things you've all done for me. And I'm going to keep it +_so_ neat. Mamma will be quite surprised when she comes home to find how +neat I've learnt to be.' + +'And only think, Mrs. Fairchild,' added Rosalys; 'do you know that papa +and mamma will most likely be home in one month? Just fancy, how nice!' + +The 'most likely' came true. One month saw Mr. and Mrs. Vane safe back +at Seacove; 'papa' so bright and well, so bronzed and ruddy too, that it +was difficult to believe he was the same feeble-looking invalid who had +started on his long journey nine weeks before. + + * * * * * + +It is not often--very seldom, indeed--that I am able to tell my readers +'what became of' the children they have come to know, and sometimes, I +hope, to care for in these simple stories. But as it is now many years +ago since the Vane family came to Seacove Rectory, and as Randolph and +his sisters and Celestina Fairchild have long ago been grown-up people, +I can give you another peep of them some eight or ten years after the +birthday I have been telling you about. + +The curtain rises again on a different scene. + +It is a lovely, old-fashioned garden, exquisitely neat and filled with +plants and flowers, showing at their best in the bright soft light of a +midsummer afternoon. A rectory garden, but not Seacove. Poor Seacove, +with its sandy soil and near neighbourhood to the sea, could not have +produced the velvety grass of that old bowling-green, now (for we are +still speaking of a good many years ago) a croquet-ground, or the +luxuriant 'rose hedge' bordering one end. Two girls were walking slowly +up and down the wide terrace walk in front of the low windows, talking +as they walked. One was tall and slight, with a fair sweet face--a very +lovely face, and one that no one loved and admired more heartily than +did her younger sister. + +'Alie dear, I do hope you've had a happy birthday,' said +Bridget--sixteen-years-old Bridget!--for Rosalys was twenty-one to-day. +'There are some birthdays one should remember more than others. A +twenty-first birthday is a _very_ particular one, isn't it?' + +'Yes indeed, Biddy, it is,' Alie replied. 'I can scarcely believe it. +And fancy, in five years more _you_ will be twenty-one!' + +'I hope I shall go on growing till then,' said Biddy, whose great +ambition was to be as tall as her sister. 'Some girls do, don't they? +And I have grown a good deal this year. I don't look as stumpy as I did, +do I?' and Biddy looked up in her sister's face with a pleasant +smile--a smile that showed her pretty white teeth and shone out of her +nice brown eyes. She was not lovely like Alie, but she had a dear honest +face--though she was still rather freckled, and her dark wavy hair gave +her a somewhat gipsy look. + +'You aren't a bit stumpy--you're just nice,' said Rosalys, 'though I +daresay you will grow some more. Just think what a little roundabout you +once were, and how you've grown since then.' + +'Yes indeed,' laughed Biddy. 'Talking of birthdays, Alie, do you +remember my eighth birthday? The one at Seacove, when papa and mamma +were away after his being so ill, and when you all gave me the +doll-house--the dear old doll-house; do you know I really sometimes play +with it still? I often think of Seacove.' + +'So do I,' said Alie. 'Of course I didn't like it _as much_ as this, for +this garden is so sweet and the country all about here is so beautiful, +and then it's so nice to be near grandmamma. But Seacove had a great +charm about it too.' + +'The sea,' said Biddy--'the sea and the sunsets,' she went on half +dreamily; 'I always think when I see a red sunset----' but then she +stopped. There are some thoughts that one keeps _quite_ in one's own +mind! + +'I always feel grateful to Seacove,' she said after a moment's pause. +'Mamma is quite sure that the three years we lived there did more than +anything to make papa strong again. What a blessing it is that he is so +well now!' + +'And quite able for all his work here, though he could never stand +London again,' said Alie. 'I wish Rough had gone into the Church too, +Bride--that is to say, I wish _he_ had wished it. Then we should have +had him somewhere near us, instead of far away in India,' and she gave a +little sigh. + +'But he's getting on so well--he was just _made_ to be a soldier,' said +Biddy. 'And papa says it is like that. Some people just _feel_ what +they're meant to be. And Rough is a great comfort, even though he has to +be away--and you know, Alie,' she went on quite gravely, 'I don't think +there _could_ have been another as good as papa, not in the same way: +he's just nearly an angel.' Alie did not disagree. 'And Roughie will be +home before your next birthday, you know.' + +'I hope so indeed,' said Rosalys. + +'Talking about long ago,' went on Bride, to whom eight or nine years +were still a _very_ 'long ago,' 'reminds me of dear little Celestina. +What ages it is since we have heard of her--not since the year her +father died, and we were afraid they were left rather badly off. How +strange it seems, Alie, doesn't it? that poor Mr. Fairchild should have +died and papa got well, when you think how ill papa was and that he +seemed quite well then.' + +'He was always delicate--Mr. Fairchild, I mean,' said Rosalys. 'But it +was very sad; they were so very fond of him. But, Biddy, we have heard +of Celestina since then--don't you remember, mamma wrote to tell Madame +d'Ermont of their trouble, and she wrote to Mrs. Fairchild inviting them +to visit her? They couldn't go--not then--but mamma had another letter, +thanking her and telling us where they were going to live. Still all +that is a good while ago, and when mamma wrote again her letter was +returned.' + +'How kind they were to us at Seacove!' said Bridget. 'I would love to +see Celestina again--fancy, she must be grown up.' + +What I am now going to tell you will seem to some people 'too strange to +be true,' but begging these wise people's pardon, I cannot agree with +them. Strange things of the kind--coincidences, they are sometimes +called--have happened to me myself, too often, for me not to believe +that 'there is something in it.' In plain words, I believe that our +spirits are sometimes conscious of each other's nearness much sooner +than our clumsy bodies are. How very often is one met with the remark, +'Why, we were just speaking of you!' How often does the thought of some +distant friend suddenly start into our memories an hour or two before +the post brings us a letter penned by the dear far-away fingers! + +Something of this kind was what happened now. A young man-servant came +out of the house and made his way to where the girls were. + +'If you please, miss,' he said, 'a young lady is in the library waiting +to see you. My mistress is out. The lady asked for both you and Miss +Bridget.' + +'Who can it be?' said Rosalys. + +'How tiresome!' said Biddy. + +But they were accustomed to see visitors that had to be seen when their +mother was out, and they went together to the library. + +Alie went in first, but she stood perplexed and a little confused as a +slight tall figure rose from a chair and came forward to meet her. + +'I am afraid,' the stranger began, but before she could say another +word, or before Alie had time to do more than think to herself, much +more quickly than it takes to tell it, that surely she _should_ know +that sweet pale face and bright though gentle eyes, Biddy had darted +forward and was throwing her arms round the young girl's neck. 'Don't +you know her, Alie?' she cried. '_I_ do. It's dear little Celestina, +grown up, and oh, how nice and pretty and good you look! And we've been +speaking of you all this morning. It's Alie's birthday; she's +twenty-one, just fancy! And where have you been, and where's your +mother, and----' + +Her breathlessness gave Rosalys time to come forward and warmly kiss +Celestina in her turn. Then they made her sit down; she was looking +rather tired, for she had had a long walk in the sun--and by degrees she +told them all her news. There was a good deal to tell. The last four +years had been spent by her mother and herself in France, not far from +Madame d'Ermont, whom Celestina described as having been more than kind. + +'She paid for all my schooling and lessons,' the girl said simply, 'so +that mother could afford to stay with me all the time. Mother gave some +English lessons herself too. And I was able to learn French _quite_ +well, which will be such an advantage to me. The last two years I taught +English at the school, so the expenses were not so great. And we spent +the summer holidays at Madame d'Ermont's chateau. Oh, she was _so_ +kind!' + +'But why have you not written to us all this time?' asked her friends. + +'We have--two or three times, but the address must have been wrong, for +one letter was returned to us. I remember I put all rightly except the +county, for I did not think that necessary; and now--the other day, I +mean--when, we had answered the advertisement and were inquiring about +Calton, we found that there are actually three or four places of the +name in England. And oh, we were so delighted when we found on getting +there that Laneverel Rectory was only two miles off.' + +'Are you living at Calton then? What do you mean about an advertisement? +Is your mother at Calton?' + +Celestina laughed and blushed at her own confused way of explaining. + +'I am so pleased at seeing you that I am losing my head,' she said. +'Yes, we have come to live at Calton. We have got the dearest little +house there. And I am French teacher at the large girls' school just +outside the town. I get sixty pounds a year--is it not delightful? So we +are quite rich. If only--you don't know how I wish poor father could +have enjoyed it too--if he could but have had a few years of the +pleasant life and rest.' + +She smiled through the tears in her eyes. Biddy stroked her hand gently. + +'But you yourself--it isn't all rest for you?' said Alie, thinking as +she spoke that it was 'Celestina all over,' never giving a thought to +herself. + +'Oh no, I have to work of course. But I like it. And some of my pupils +are very nice and intelligent. Besides--I should be miserable if I were +idle,' she added brightly. + +'Yes, indeed,' both the girls heartily agreed. 'We are very busy too, +Celestina. We have lots and lots of things to do at home to help papa +and mamma, and all the village people to look after, and the schools and +the choir and the church. You must see the church, Celestina.' + +'It is just--almost, at least--perfect,' added Biddy enthusiastically, +'compared with poor old Seacove! Oh, do you remember the high pews with +curtains round, and the old clerk, and the pulpit like a Queen Elizabeth +bedstead.' + +'Only _without_ curtains,' said Celestina, at which they all laughed. +They were so happy they would have laughed at anything! + +Then Celestina had to be told about Rough, and how well he was getting +on, though so far away, alas! And _then_ she had to be taken out into +the garden to see its beauties, and have promises of unlimited cuttings +and seeds and I don't know all what for her own little garden. There was +poor old Smuttie's grave to show her too, in one corner, for Smut had +lived to enjoy a year or two of peaceful and slumberous old age on the +sunny doorstep in summer and the library hearthrug in winter at +Laneverel Rectory. And _then_ came the sounds of wheels, and the pony +carriage turned in at the gate with Mr. and Mrs. Vane, and all the story +of the joyful surprise had to be told over again. + +The rector and his wife welcomed their old young friend as heartily as +their daughters had done, you may be sure. They pressed her to stay to +dinner, promising to drive her home in the cool of the evening, but +this, Celestina, unselfish as ever, would not do, for 'mother' might be +uneasy. So they had a very delightful 'afternoon tea' in the garden, for +afternoon teas were just coming into fashion, and Rosalys and Bride +walked half-way home with Celestina, parting with invitations and +promises on both sides. Celestina was to spend at least _half_ of her +half-holidays at the Rectory, and Alie was to drive to Calton to fetch +Mrs. Fairchild the very next Saturday, and the sisters were to pay +Celestina a long visit the following week, to see the dear little house +and all her treasures. + +'You shall have tea in the sweet little French tea-cups Madame d'Ermont +gave me,' said she joyfully. 'They are a _little_ bigger than my doll +ones long ago.' + +'Oh dear,' said Biddy, 'that reminds me of the time I invited myself to +tea to your house, and Alie was so shocked at me. I _was_ a horrid +little girl.' + +'No, you _weren't_', said both the others. 'And any way,' added Alie +fondly, 'isn't she nice now, Celestina?' + +'I've never had any friends, if I may call you so,' was Celestina's +indirect reply, 'that I have cared for as for you two,' and there was a +dewy look in her gentle eyes which said even more than her words. + + * * * * * + +A _real_ friendship--a friendship to last through the changes that +_must_ come; a friendship too firmly based to be influenced by the fact +that none of us, not even the sweetest and truest, are 'perfect,' that +we _must_ 'bear and forbear,' and gently judge each other while in this +world--such friendships are very rare. We are not _bound_ to our +friends, not obliged to make the best of them, as with relations, and +so, too often, we throw each other off hastily, take offence in some +foolish way, and the dear old friendship is a thing of the past, one of +those 'used to be's' that are so sad to come across in our memory. But +it is not always so. Some friendships wear well, sending down their +roots ever deeper and more firmly as the years go on, spreading out +their gracious branches ever more widely overhead for us to find shelter +and rest beneath them in the stormy as in the sunny days of life. And +oh, dear children, such friendship is something to thank God for! + +My little girls, whose friendship began in the old back parlour at +Seacove, are not even young women now--they are getting down into the +afternoon of life--but they are still friends, true and tried. Friends +whom sorrow and trials only join together still more closely; whose love +for and trust in each other even death cannot destroy. + + +THE END + + + + +_Printed by_ R. & R. CLARK, LIMITED, _Edinburgh_. + + * * * * * + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Punctuation errors have been repaired. + +The original text had a frontispiece that the list of illustrations +recorded as being on page 89. It has been moved from the front to +the text it refers to. + +Page 180, "springlike" changed to "spring-like". + +Page 169, "beggings" changed to "begging". + +Illustration that begins "----carrying" original read P. 162. Actual +text is on page 161 and the table of illustrations reads 161. + +All illustration captions but one were mixed case. This was retained. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Rectory Children, by Mrs Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RECTORY CHILDREN *** + +***** This file should be named 18275.txt or 18275.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/2/7/18275/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin, Emmy and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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