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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/18666-8.txt b/18666-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ae6f30 --- /dev/null +++ b/18666-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9675 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Polly, by L. T. Meade + +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: Polly + A New-Fashioned Girl + +Author: L. T. Meade + +Release Date: June 23, 2006 [EBook #18666] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLY *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +POLLY +A NEW-FASHIONED GIRL + +BY +L. T. MEADE + +Author of "A World of Girls," "Daddy's Girl," +"Light of the Morning," "Palace Beautiful," +"A Girl in Ten Thousand," etc. + +NEW YORK +THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY +1910 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +[Illustration: Polly] + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +"But if thou wilt be constant then, + And faithful of thy word, +I'll make thee glorious by my pen + And famous by my sword. +I'll serve thee in such noble ways + Was never heard before: +I'll crown and deck thee all with bays + And love thee evermore." + + --James Graham. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +CONTENTS + +PART I +CHAPTER I. A GREAT MISFORTUNE. 1 +CHAPTER II. ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY. 4 +CHAPTER III. "BE BRAVE, DEAR." 6 +CHAPTER IV. QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME. 10 +CHAPTER V. A SAFETY-VALVE. 13 +CHAPTER VI. POLLY'S RAID. 16 +CHAPTER VII. THE GROWN-UPS. 19 +CHAPTER VIII. SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME? 24 +CHAPTER IX. LIMITS. 28 +CHAPTER X. INDIGESTION WEEK. 32 +CHAPTER XI. A--WAS AN APPLE PIE. 36 +CHAPTER XII. POTATOES--MINUS POINT. 42 +CHAPTER XIII. IN THE ATTIC. 45 +CHAPTER XIV. AUNT MARIA. 50 +CHAPTER XV. PUNISHMENT. 55 +CHAPTER XVI. DR. MAYBRIGHT _versus_ SCORPION. 60 +CHAPTER XVII. WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN? 64 +CHAPTER XVIII. THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES. 68 +CHAPTER XIX. DISTRESSED HEROINES. 73 +CHAPTER XX. LIMITS. 75 +CHAPTER XXI. THE HIGH MOUNTAINS. 78 + +PART II +CHAPTER I. A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS. 82 +CHAPTER II. A YOUNG QUEEN. 86 +CHAPTER III. NOT LIKE OTHERS. 94 +CHAPTER IV. A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN. 98 +CHAPTER V. FORSAKEN. 103 +CHAPTER VI. WITHOUT HER TREASURE. 108 +CHAPTER VII. MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE. 113 +CHAPTER VIII. THE HERMIT'S HUT. 117 +CHAPTER IX. AN OLD SONG. 121 +CHAPTER X. LOOKING AT HERSELF. 126 +CHAPTER XI. THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND. 131 +CHAPTER XII. RELICS AND A WELCOME. 135 +CHAPTER XIII. VERY ROUGH WEATHER. 139 +CHAPTER XIV. A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. 144 +CHAPTER XV. A DILEMMA. 149 +CHAPTER XVI. FIREFLY. 151 +CHAPTER XVII. TO THE RESCUE. 155 +CHAPTER XVIII. OH, FIE! POLLY. 159 +CHAPTER XIX. ONE YEAR AFTER. 165 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + +POLLY: +A NEW-FASHIONED GIRL. + +CHAPTER I. + +A GREAT MISFORTUNE. + + +It was an intensely hot July day--not a cloud appeared in the high blue +vault of the sky; the trees, the flowers, the grasses, were all +motionless, for not even the gentlest zephyr of a breeze was abroad; the +whole world seemed lapped in a sort of drowsy, hot, languorous slumber. +Even the flowers bowed their heads a little weariedly, and the birds +after a time ceased singing, and got into the coolest and most shady +parts of the great forest trees. There they sat and talked to one +another of the glorious weather, for they liked the heat, although it +made them too lazy to sing. + +It was an open plain of country, and although there were clumps of trees +here and there, great clumps with cool shade under them, there were also +acres and acres of common land on which the sun beat remorselessly. This +land was covered with heather, not yet in flower, and with bracken, +which was already putting on its autumn glory of yellow and red. Neither +the bracken nor the heather minded the July heat, but the butterflies +thought it a trifle uncomfortable, and made for the clumps of trees, and +looked longingly and regretfully at what had been a noisy, babbling +little brook, but was now a dry and stony channel, deserted even by the +dragon-flies. + +At the other side of the brook was a hedge, composed principally of wild +roses and hawthorn bushes, and beyond the hedge was a wide dyke, and at +the top of the dyke a wire paling, and beyond that again, a good-sized +vegetable garden. + +From the tops of the trees, had any one been energetic enough to climb +up there, or had any bird been sufficiently endowed with curiosity to +glance his bright eyes in that direction, might have been seen smoke, +ascending straight up into the air, and proceeding from the kitchen +chimneys of a square-built gray house. + +The house was nearly covered with creepers, and had a trellis porch, +sheltering and protecting its open hall-door. Pigeons were cooing near, +and several dogs were lying flat out in the shade which the wide eaves +of the house afforded. There was a flower garden in front, and a wide +gravel sweep, and a tennis court and croquet lawn, and a rose arbor, and +even a great, wide, cool-looking tent. But as far as human life was +concerned the whole place looked absolutely deserted. The pigeons cooed +languidly, and the dogs yapped and yawned, and made ferocious snaps at +audacious and troublesome flies. But no one handled the tennis bats, nor +took up the croquet mallets; no one stopped to admire the roses, and no +one entered the cool, inviting tent. The whole place might have been +dead, as far as human life was concerned; and although the smoke did +ascend straight up from the kitchen chimney, a vagrant or a tramp might +have been tempted to enter the house by the open hall door, were it not +protected by the lazy dogs. + +Up, however, by the hedge, at the other side of the kitchen garden, +could be heard just then the crackle of a bough, the rustle of a dress, +and a short, smothered, impatient exclamation. And had anyone peered +very close they would have seen lying flat in the long grasses a tall, +slender, half-grown girl, with dark eyes and rosy cheeks, and tangled +curly rebellious locks. She had one arm raised, and was drawing herself +deliberately an inch at a time along the smooth grass. Several birds had +taken refuge in this fragrant hedge of hawthorn and wild roses. They +were talking to one another, keeping up a perpetual chatter; but +whenever the girl stirred a twig, or disturbed a branch, they stopped, +looking around them in alarm, but none of them as yet seeing the prone, +slim figure, which was, indeed, almost covered by the grasses. Perfect +stillness once more--the birds resumed their conversation, and the girl +made another slight movement forward. This time she disturbed no twig, +and interrupted none of the bird gossip. She was near, very near, a +tempting green bough, and on the bough sat two full-grown lovely +thrushes; they were not singing, but were holding a very gentle and +affectionate conversation, sitting close together, and looking at one +another out of their bright eyes, and now and then kissing each other +with that loving little peck which means a great deal in bird life. + +The girl felt her heart beating with excitement--the birds were within +a few inches of her--she could see their breasts heaving as they +talked. Her own eyes were as bright as theirs with excitement; she got +quite under them, made a sudden upward, dexterous movement, and laid a +warm, detaining hand on each thrush. The deed was done--the little +prisoners were secured. She gave a low laugh of ecstasy, and sitting +upright in the long grass, began gently to fondle her prey, cooing as +she talked to them, and trying to coax the terrified little prisoners to +accept some kisses from her dainty red lips. + +"Poll! Where's Polly Parrot?--Poll--Poll--Poll!" came a chorus of +voices. "Poll, you're wanted at the house this minute. Where are you +hiding?--You're wanted at home this minute! Polly Parrot--where are +you, Polly?" + +"Oh, bother!" exclaimed the girl under her breath; "then I must let you +go, darlings, and I never, never had two of you in my arms at the same +moment before. It's always so. I'm always interrupted when I'm enjoying +ecstasy. Well, good-by, sweets. Be happy--bless you, darlings!" + +She blew a kiss to the released and delighted thrushes, and stood +upright, looking very lanky and cross and disreputable, with bits of +grass and twig sticking in her hair, and messing and staining her faded, +washed cotton frock. + +"Now, what are you up to, you scamps?--can't you let a body be?" + +"Oh, Polly!" + +Two little figures came tumbling down the gravel walk at the other side +of the wire fence. They were hot and panting, and both destitute of +hats. + +"Polly, you're wanted at the house. Helen says so; there's a b-b-baby +come. Polly Perkins--Poll Parrot, you'd better come home at once, +there's a new b-b-baby just come!" + +"A _what_?" said Polly. She vaulted the dyke, cleared the fence, and +kneeling on the ground beside her two excited, panting little brothers, +flung a hot, detaining arm round each. + +"A baby! it isn't true, Bunny? it isn't true, Bob? A real live baby? Not +a doll! a baby that will scream and wriggle up its face! But it can't +be. Oh, heavenly! oh, delicious! But it can't be true, it can't! You're +always making up stories, Bunny!" + +"Not this time," said Bunny. "You tell her, Bob--she'll believe you. I +heard it yelling--oh, didn't it yell, just! And Helen came, and said to +send Polly in. Helen was crying, I don't know what about, and she said +you were to go in at once. Why, what is the matter, Poll Parrot?" + +"Nothing," said Polly, "only you might have told me about Helen crying +before. Helen never cries unless there's something perfectly awful going +to happen. Stay out in the garden, you two boys--make yourselves sick +with gooseberries, if you like, only don't come near the house, and +don't make the tiniest bit of noise. A new baby--and Helen crying! But +mother--I'll find out what it means from mother!" + +Polly had long legs, and they bore her quickly in a swift race or canter +to the house. When she approached the porch the dogs all got up in a +body to meet her; there were seven or eight dogs, and they surrounded +her, impeding her progress. + +"Not a bark out of one of you," she said, sternly, "lie down--go to +sleep. If you even give a yelp I'll come out by and by and beat you. Oh, +Alice, what is it? What's the matter?" + +A maid servant was standing in the wide, square hall. + +"What is it, Alice? What is wrong? There's a new baby--I'm delighted at +that. But why is Helen crying, and--oh!--oh!--what does it mean--you +are crying, too, Alice." + +"It's--Miss Polly, I can't tell you," began the girl. She threw her +apron over her head, and sobbed loudly. "We didn't know where you was, +miss--it's, it's--We have been looking for you everywhere, miss. Why, +Miss Polly, you're as white, as white--Don't take on now, miss, dear." + +"You needn't say any more," gasped Polly, sinking down into a garden +chair. "I'm not going to faint, or do anything silly. And I'm not going +to cry either. Where's Helen? If there's anything bad she'll tell me. +Oh, do stop making that horrid noise, Alice, you irritate me so +dreadfully!" + +Alice dashed out of the open door, and Polly heard her sobbing again, +and talking frantically to the dogs. There was no other sound of any +sort. The intense stillness of the house had a half-stunning, +half-calming effect on the startled child. She rose, and walked slowly +upstairs to the first landing. + +"Polly," said her sister Helen, "you've come at last. Where were you +hiding?--oh, poor Polly!" + +"Where's mother?" said Polly. "I want her--let me go to her--_let_ me +go to her at once, Nell." + +"Oh, Polly----" + +Helen's sobs came now, loud, deep, and distressful. There was a new +baby--but no mother for Polly any more. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY. + + +Dr. Maybright had eight children, and the sweetest and most attractive +wife of any man in the neighborhood. He had a considerable country +practice, was popular among his patients, and he and his were adored by +the villagers, for the Maybrights had lived in the neighborhood of the +little village of Tyrsley Dale for many generations. Dr. Maybright's +father had ministered to the temporal wants of the fathers and mothers +of these very same villagers; and his father before him had also been in +the profession, and had done his best for the inhabitants of Tyrsley +Dale. It was little wonder, therefore, that the simple folks who lived +in the little antiquated village on the borders of one of our great +southern moors should have thought that to the Maybrights alone of the +whole race of mankind had been given the art of healing. + +For three or four generations the Maybright family had lived at Sleepy +Hollow, which was the name of the square gray house, with its large +vegetable garden, its sheltered clump of forest trees, and its +cultivated flower and pleasure grounds. Here, in the old nursery, Polly +had first opened her bright blue-black eyes; in this house Dr. +Maybright's eight children had lived happily, and enjoyed all the +sunshine of the happiest of happy childhoods to the full. They were all +high-spirited and fearless; each child had a certain amount of +individuality. Perhaps Polly was the naughtiest and the most peculiar; +but her little spurt of insubordination speedily came to nothing, for +mother, without ever being angry, or ever saying anything that could +hurt Polly's sensitive feelings, had always, with firm and gentle hand, +put an extinguisher on them. + +Mother was really, then, the life of the house. She was young to have +such tall slips of daughters, and such little wild pickles of sons; and +she was so pretty and so merry, and in such ecstasies over a picnic, and +so childishly exultant when Helen, or Polly, or Katie, won a prize or +did anything the least bit extraordinary, that she was voted the best +playfellow in the world. + +Mother was never idle, and yet she was always at leisure, and so she +managed to obtain the confidences of all the children; she thoroughly +understood each individual character, and she led her small brood with +silken reins. + +Dr. Maybright was a great deal older than his wife. He was a tall man, +still very erect in his figure, with square shoulders, and a keen, +bright, kindly face. He had a large practice, extending over many miles, +and although he had not the experience which life in a city would have +given him, he was a very clever physician, and many of his brothers in +the profession prophesied eminence for him whenever he chose to come +forward and take it. Dr. Maybright was often absent from home all day +long, sometimes also in the dead of night the children heard his +carriage wheels as they bowled away on some errand of mercy. Polly +always thought of her father as a sort of angel of healing, who came +here, there, and everywhere, and took illness and death away with him. + +"Father won't let Josie Wilson die," Polly used to say; or, "What bad +toothache Peter Simpkins has to-day--but when father sees him he will +be all right." + +Polly had a great reverence for her father, although she loved her +beautiful young mother best. The children never expected Dr. Maybright +to join in their games, or to be sympathetic over their joys or their +woes. They reverenced him much, they loved him well, but he was too busy +and too great to be troubled by their little concerns. Of course, mother +was different, for mother was part and parcel of their lives. + +There were six tall, slim, rather straggling-looking Maybright +girls--all overgrown, and long of limb, and short of frock. Then there +came two podgy boys, greater pickles than the girls, more hopelessly +disreputable, more defiant of all authority, except mother's. Polly was +as bad as her brothers in this respect, but the other five girls were +docility itself compared to these black lambs, whose proper names were +Charley and John, but who never had been called anything, and never +would be called anything in that select circle, but Bunny and Bob. + +This was the family; the more refined neighbors rather dreaded them, and +even the villagers spoke of most of them as "wondrous rampageous!" But +Mrs. Maybright always smiled when unfriendly comments reached her ears. + +"Wait and see," she would say; "just quietly wait and see--they are +all, every one of them, the sweetest and most healthy-minded children in +the world. Let them alone, and don't interfere with them. I should not +like perfection, it would have nothing to grow to." + +Mrs. Maybright taught the girls herself, and the boys had a rather +frightened-looking nursery-governess, who often was seen to rush from +the school-room dissolved in tears; but was generally overtaken half-way +up the avenue by two small figures, nearly throttled by two pairs of +repentant little arms, while eager lips vowed, declared, and +vociferated, that they would never, never be naughty again--that they +would never tease their own sweet, sweetest of Miss Wilsons any more. + +Nor did they--until the next time. + +Polly was fourteen on that hot July afternoon when she lay on the grass +and skillfully captured the living thrushes, and held them to her +smooth, glowing young cheeks. Her birthday had been over for a whole +fortnight; it had been a day full of delight, love, and happiness, and +mother had said a word or two to the exultant, radiant child at the +close. Something about her putting away some of the childish things, and +taking up the gentler and nobler ways of first young girlhood now. She +thought in an almost undefined way of mother's words as she held the +fluttering thrushes to her lips and kissed their downy breasts. Then had +come the unlooked-for interruption. Polly's life seemed cloudless, and +all of a sudden there appeared a speck in the firmament--a little cloud +which grew rapidly, until the whole heavens were covered with it. Mother +had gone away for ever, and there were now nine children in the old gray +house. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +"BE BRAVE, DEAR." + + +"Wasn't father with her?" Polly had said when she could find her voice +late that evening. "Wasn't father there? I thought father--I always +thought father could keep death away." + +She was lying on her pretty white bed when she spoke. She had lain there +now for a couple of days--not crying nor moaning, but very still, +taking no notice of any one. She looked dull and heavy--her sisters +thought her very ill. + +Dr. Maybright said to Helen-- + +"You must be very careful of Polly, she has had a shock, and she may +take some time recovering. I want you to nurse her yourself, Nell, and +to keep the others from the room. For the present, at least, she must be +kept absolutely quiet--the least excitement would be very bad for her." + +"Polly never cries," said Helen, whose own blue eyes were swollen almost +past recognition; "she never cries, she does not even moan. I think, +father, what really upset Polly so was when she heard that you--you +were there. Polly thinks, she always did think that you could keep death +away." + +Here poor Helen burst into fresh sobs herself. + +"I think," she added, choking as she spoke, "that was what quite broke +Polly down--losing mother, and losing faith in your power at the same +time." + +"I am glad you told me this, Helen," said Dr. Maybright, quietly. "This +alters the case. In a measure I can now set Polly's heart at rest. I +will see her presently." + +"Presently" did not mean that day, nor the next, nor the next, but one +beautiful summer's evening just when the sun was setting, and just when +its long low western rays were streaming into the lattice-window of the +pretty little bower bedroom where Polly lay on her white bed, Dr. +Maybright opened the door and came in. He was a very tall man, and he +had to stoop as he passed under the low, old-fashioned doorway, and as +he walked across the room to Polly's bedside the rays of the setting sun +fell on his face, and he looked more like a beautiful healing presence +than ever to the child. She was lying on her back, with her eyes very +wide open; her face, which had been bright and round and rosy, had grown +pale and small, and her tearless eyes had a pathetic expression. She +started up when she saw her father come in, gave a glad little cry, and +then, remembering something, hid her face in her hands with a moan. + +Dr. Maybright sat down in the chair which Helen had occupied the greater +part of the day. He did not take any notice of Polly's moan, but sat +quite still, looking out at the beautiful, glowing July sunset. +Wondering at his stillness, Polly presently dropped her hands from her +face, and looked round at him. Her lips began to quiver, and her eyes to +fill. + +"If I were you, Polly," said the doctor, in his most matter-of-fact and +professional manner, "I would get up and come down to tea. You are not +ill, you know. Trouble, even great trouble, is not illness. By staying +here in your room you are adding a little to the burden of all the +others. That is not necessary, and it is the last thing your mother +would wish." + +"Is it?" said Polly. The tears were now brimming over in her eyes, but +she crushed back her emotion. "I didn't want to get up," she said, "or +to do anything right any more. She doesn't know--she doesn't hear--she +doesn't care." + +"Hush, Polly--she both knows and cares. She would be much better +pleased if you came down to tea to-night. I want you, and so does Helen, +and so do the other girls and the little boys. See, I will stand by the +window and wait, if you dress yourself very quickly." + +"Give me my pocket-handkerchief," said Polly. She dashed it to her eyes. +No more tears flowed, and by the time the doctor reached the window he +heard a bump on the floor; there was a hasty scrambling into clothes, +and in an incredibly short time an untidy, haggard-looking, but now +wide-awake, Polly stood by the doctor's side. + +"That is right," he said, giving her one of his quick, rare smiles. + +He took no notice of the tossed hair, nor the stained, crumpled, cotton +frock. + +"Take my arm, Polly," he said, almost cheerfully. And they went down +together to the old parlor where mother would never again preside over +the tea-tray. + +It was more than a week since Mrs. Maybright had died, and the others +were accustomed to Helen's taking her place, but the scene was new to +the poor, sore-hearted child who now come in. Dr. Maybright felt her +faltering steps, and knew what her sudden pause on the threshold meant. + +"Be brave, dear," he whispered. "You will make it easier for me." + +After that Polly would have fought with dragons rather than shed a ghost +of a tear. She slipped into a seat by her father, and crumbled her +bread-and-butter, and gulped down some weak tea, taking care to avoid +any one's eyes, and feeling her own cheeks growing redder and redder. + +In mother's time Dr. Maybright had seldom spoken. On many occasions he +did not even put in an appearance at the family tea, for mother herself +and the group of girls kept up such a chatter that, as he said, his +voice would not be heard; now, on the contrary, he talked more than any +one, telling the children one or two most interesting stories on natural +history. Polly was devoted to natural history, and in spite of herself +she suspended her tea-cup in the air while she listened. + +"It is almost impossible, I know," concluded Dr. Maybright as he rose +from the table. "But it can be done. Oh, yes, boys, I don't want either +of you to try it, but still it can be done. If the hand is very steady, +and poised in a particular way, then the bird can be caught, but you +must know how to hold him. Yes--what is the matter, Polly?" + +"I did it!" burst from Polly, "I caught two of them--darlings--I was +kissing them when--oh, father!" + +Polly's face was crimson. All the others were staring at her. + +"I want you, my dear," said her father, suddenly and tenderly. "Come +with me." + +Again he drew her hand protectingly through his arm, and led her out of +the room. + +"You were a very good, brave child at tea-time," he said. "But I +particularly wish you to cry. Tears are natural, and you will feel much +better if you have a good cry. Come upstairs now to Nurse and baby." + +"Oh, no, I can't--I really can't see baby!" + +"Why not?--She is a dear little child, and when your mother went away +she left her to you all, to take care of, and cherish and love. I think +she thought specially of you, Polly, for you always have been specially +fond of little children. Come to the nursery now with me. I want you to +take care of baby for an hour, while Nurse is at her supper." + +Polly did not say another word. The doctor and she went together into +the old nursery, and a moment or two afterwards she found herself +sitting in Nurse's little straw arm-chair, holding a tiny red mite of a +baby on her knee. Mother was gone, and this--this was left in her +place! Oh, what did God mean? thought the woe-begone, broken-hearted +child. + +The doctor did not leave the room. He was looking through some books, a +pile of old MS. books in one corner by the window, and had apparently +forgotten all about Polly and the baby. She held the wee bundle without +clasping it to her, or bestowing upon it any endearing or comforting +little touch, and as she looked the tears which had frozen round her +heart flowed faster and faster, dropping on the baby's dress, and even +splashing on her tiny face. + +Baby did not like this treatment, and began to expostulate in a fretful, +complaining way. Instantly Polly's motherly instincts awoke; she wiped +her own tears from the baby's face, and raising it in her arms, pressed +its little soft velvet cheek to her own. As she did so, a thrill of warm +comfort stole into her heart. + +"Polly," said her father, coming suddenly up to her, "please take good +care of baby till Nurse returns. I must go out now, I have some patients +to see, but I am going to prescribe a special little supper for you, +which Helen is to see you eat before you go to bed. Good-night, dear. +Please ask Nurse, too, if you can do anything in the morning to help her +with baby. Good-night, good-night, both of you. Why the little creature +is quite taking to you, Polly!" + +Dr. Maybright was about to leave the room when Polly called him back. + +"Father, I must say one thing. I have been in a dreadful, dreadful dream +since mother died. The most dreadful part of my dream, the blackest +part, was about you." + +"Yes, Polly, yes, dear." + +"You were there, father, and you let her die." + +Dr. Maybright put his arm round the trembling child, and drew her and +the baby too close to him. + +"Not willingly," he said, in a voice which Polly had never heard him use +before. "Not willingly, my child. It was with anguish I let your mother +go away. But Polly, there was another physician there, greater than I." + +"Another?" said Polly. + +"Yes, another--and He prescribed Rest, for evermore." + +All her life afterwards Polly remembered these words of her father's. +They calmed her great sorrow, and in many ways left her a different +child. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME. + + +On a certain sunny morning in August, four or five weeks after Mrs. +Maybright's death, six girls stood round Dr. Maybright in his study. +They were all dressed in deep mourning, but it was badly made and +unbecoming, and one and all looked untidy, and a little run to seed. +Their ages were as varied as their faces. Helen, aged sixteen, had a +slightly plump figure, a calm, smooth, oval face, and pretty gentle blue +eyes. Her hair was fair and wavy; she was the tidiest of the group, and +notwithstanding the heavy make of her ugly frock, had a very sweet and +womanly expression. Polly, all angles and awkwardness, came next in +years; she was tall and very slim. Her face was small, her hair nearly +black and very untidy, and her big, dark, restless eyes reflected each +emotion of her mind. + +Polly was lolling against the mantelpiece, and restlessly changing her +position from one leg to another; Katie, aged eleven, was something in +Helen's style; then came the twins, Dolly and Mabel, and then a rather +pale child, with a somewhat queer expression, commonly known in the +family as "Firefly." Her real name was Lucy, but no one ever dreamt of +calling her by this gentle title. "Firefly" was almost always in some +sort of disgrace, and scarcely knew what it was not to live in a state +of perpetual mental hot water. It was privately whispered in the family +circle that Polly encouraged her in her naughtiness. Whether that was +the case or not, these two had a kind of quaint, elfish friendship +between them, Firefly in her heart of hearts worshipping Polly, and +obeying her slightest nod or wish. + +"I have sent for you, girls," said the Doctor, looking round tenderly at +his six motherless daughters, "to say that I have talked over matters +with Helen, and for the present at least, I am willing to give her plan +a trial. I think she is right when she tells me that if it turns out +successful nothing would please your mother more. It entirely depends on +yourselves whether it succeeds or fails. If you are agreeable to try it, +you can come to me to-morrow at this hour and tell me so. Now good-by, +my dears. Helen will explain everything to you. Helen, I shall not be in +for early dinner. Good-by, good-by to you all." + +The Doctor nodded, looked half-abstractedly at the upturned young faces, +pushed his way through the little group, and taking up a parcel of +papers and a surgical case which lay near, went straight to his +carriage, which was heard immediately afterwards to bowl quickly down +the avenue. + +The moment he was gone Helen was surrounded by a clamorous group. + +"What is it, Nell? oh, do tell us--tell us quickly," said they, one and +all. + +"I thought Helen looked very important these last few days," said Dolly. +"Do tell us what it is, Nell, and what the plan is we are all to agree +to." + +"It sounds rather nice to be asked to agree to things," said Firefly. +"What's the matter, Poll? You look grumpy." + +"I think Helen may be allowed to speak," said Polly. "Go on, Nell, out +with the budget of news. And you young ones, you had better not +interrupt her, for if you do, I'll pay you out by-and-by. Now, Nell. +Speak, Nell." + +"It's this," said Helen. + +She seated herself on the window-ledge, and Polly stood, tall and +defiant, at her back. Firefly dropped on her knees in front, and the +others lolled about anyhow. + +"It's this," she said. "Father would like to carry on our education as +much in mother's way as possible. And he says that he is willing, for a +time at least, to do without having a resident elderly governess to live +with us." + +"Oh, good gracious!" exclaimed Polly, "was there ever such an idea +thought of?" + +"She'd have spectacles," said Dolly. + +"And a hooked nose," remarked Katie. + +"And she'd be sure to squint, and have false teeth, and I'd hate her," +snapped Firefly, putting on her most vindictive face. + +"Well, it's what's generally done," said Helen, in her grave, sad, +steady, young voice. "You remember the Brewsters when they--they had +their great sorrow--how an elderly governess came, and Aunt Maria +Cameron has written to father about two already. She speaks of them as +treasures; father showed me the letters. He says he supposes it is quite +the usual thing, and he asked me what I'd like. Poor father, you see he +must be out all day with the sick folks." + +"Of course," murmured Polly. "Well, what did you answer him about the +old horrors, Nell?" + +"One seemed rather nice," said Helen. "She was about forty-five, and had +thin grayish hair. Aunt Maria sent her photograph, and said that she was +a treasure, and that father ought not to lose an hour in securing her. +Her name was Miss Jenkins." + +"Jenkins or Jones, I'd have given her sore bones," spitefully improvised +Firefly. + +"Well, she's not to come," continued Helen, "at least, not at present. +For I have persuaded father to let us try the other plan. He says all +our relations will be angry with him; of course, he is not likely to +care for that. This is what we are to try, girls, if you are agreeable. +Father is going to get the very best daily governess from Nettleship to +come here every morning. She will stay until after early dinner, and +then George will drive her back to town in the pony trap. And then Mr. +Masters is to come twice a week, as usual, about our music, and Mr. +Danvers for drawing. And Miss Wilson is to stay here most of the day to +look after Bunny and Bob. That is a much better arrangement than having +a resident governess, is it not?" + +"Yes," said three or four voices, but Polly was silent, and Firefly, +eagerly watching her face, closed her own resolute lips. + +"That is part of father's plan," continued Helen. "But the other, and +more important part is this. I am to undertake the housekeeping. Father +says he would like Polly to help me a little, but the burden and +responsibility of the whole thing rests on me. And also, girls, father +says that there must be some one in absolute authority. There must be +some one who can settle disputes, and keep things in order, and so he +says that unless you are all willing to do what I ask you to do, the +scheme must still fall through, and we must be like the Brewsters or any +other unhappy girls whose mothers are no longer with them, and have our +resident governess." + +"I know you won't like to obey me," continued Helen, looking anxiously +round, "but I don't think I'll be hard on you. No, I am sure I shall not +be hard on any of you." + +"That remains to be proved," said Polly. "I don't think I like that +plan. I won't give any answer at present--I'll think about it. Come +along, Fly," she nodded to her younger sister, and then, lifting the +heavy bottom sash of the window where Helen had been sitting, stepped +lightly out, followed by the obedient Firefly. + +"I don't want to obey Nell," said the little sister, clasping two of +Polly's fingers with her thin, small hand. "If it was you, Poll Parrot, +it would be a different thing, but I don't want to obey Nell. I don't +think it's fair; she's only my sister, like the rest of them. There's +nothing said in the Catechism about obeying sisters. It's only fathers +and mothers, and spiritual pastors and masters." + +"And all those put in authority over you," proceeded Polly, shaking her +fingers free, and facing round on Firefly, in a way which caused that +young person to back several inches. "If Helen once gets the authority +the Catechism is on her side, not on yours." + +"But I needn't promise, need I?" pouted Firefly. "If it was you, it +would be different. I always did what you wanted me to do, Polly +Perkins." + +"Of course you did," responded Polly, in a most contemptuous voice. +"Will a duck swim? I led you into mischief--of course you followed. +Well, Fly, it rests with yourself. Don't obey our dear, good, gentle +Nelly, and you'll have Miss Jenkins here. Won't it be fun to see her +squinting at you over her spectacles when she returns your +spelling-lessons. Bread and water will be your principal diet most of +the week. Well, good-by now; I'm off to baby." + +Polly took to her heels, and Firefly stood for a moment or two looking +utterly miserable and irresolute on the wide gravel walk in the center +of the flower-garden. She felt very much inclined to stamp her feet and +to screw up her thin little face into contortions of rage. Even very +little girls, however, won't go into paroxysms of anger when there is no +one there to see. Firefly's heart was very sore, for Polly, her idol, +had spoken to her almost roughly. + +"I wish mother wasn't in heaven," she murmured in a grieved little +voice, and then she turned and walked back to the house. The nearer she +approached the study window the faster grew her footsteps. At last, like +a little torrent, she vaulted back into the room, and flung her arms +noisily round Helen's neck. + +"I'll obey you, darling Nell," she said. "I'd much rather have you than +Miss Jenkins." + +And then she sobbed aloud, and really shook herself, for she felt still +so angry with Polly. + +"That's a good little Fly," said Helen, kissing her affectionately in +return, and putting her arm round her waist, so as to establish her +comfortably on her knee. The other girls were all lying about in +different easy attitudes, and Firefly joined in the general talk, and +found herself much comforted. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A SAFETY-VALVE. + + +"Fly caved in, didn't she?" said Polly to her eldest sister that night. + +"Yes, poor little mite, she did, in a touching way," said Helen; "but +she seemed in trouble about something. You know how reserved she is +about her feelings, but when she sat on my knee she quite sobbed." + +"I was rather brutal to her," said Polly, in a nonchalant tone, flinging +up the sash of the bedroom window as she spoke, and indulging in a +careless whistle. + +It was bed-time, but the girls were tempted by the moonlight night to +sit up and look out at the still, sweet beauty, and chatter together. + +"How could you be unkind to her?" said Helen, in a voice of dismay. +"Polly, dear, do shut that window again, or you will have a sore throat. +How could you be unkind to poor little Fly, Poll, when she is so devoted +to you?" + +"The very reason," said Polly. "She'd never have gone over to you if I +hadn't. I saw rebellion in that young 'un's eye--that was why I called +her out. I was determined to nip it in the bud." + +"But you rebelled yourself?" + +"Yes, and I mean to go on rebelling. I am not Fly." + +"Well, Polly," said Helen, suppressing a heavy sigh on her own account; +"you know I don't want you a bit to obey me. I am not a mistressing sort +of girl, and I like to consult you about things, and I want us both to +feel more or less as equals. Still father says there are quite two years +between us, and that the scheme cannot be worked at all unless some one +is distinctly at the head. He particularly spoke of you, Polly, and said +that if you would not agree we must go back to the idea of Miss Jenkins, +or that he will let this house for a time, and send us all to school." + +"A worse horror than the other," said Polly. "I wouldn't be a +school-girl for all you could give me! Why, the robin's nest might be +discovered by some one else, and my grubs and chrysalides would come to +perfection without me. No, no; rather than that--can't we effect a +compromise, Nell?" + +"What is it?" asked Helen. "You know _I_ am willing to agree to +anything. It is father." + +"Oh, yes; poor Nell, you're the meekest and mildest of mortals. Now, +look here, wouldn't this be fun?" + +Polly's black eyes began to dance. + +"You know how fond I always was of housekeeping. Let me housekeep every +second week. Give me the money and let me buy every single thing and pay +for it, and don't interfere with me whatever I do. I'll promise to be as +good as gold always, and obey you in every single thing, if only I have +this safety-valve. Let me expend myself upon the housekeeping, and I'll +be as good, better than gold. I'll help you, and be your right hand, +Nell; and I'll obey you in the most public way before all the other +girls, and as to Fly, see if I don't keep her in hand. What do you think +of this plan, Nell? I, with my safety-valve, the comfort of your life, a +sort of general to keep your forces in order." + +"But you really can't housekeep, Polly. Of course I'd like to please +you, and father said himself you were to help me in the house. But to +manage everything--why, it frightens me, and I am two years older." + +"But you have so very little spirit, darling. Now it doesn't frighten me +a bit, and that's why I'm so certain I shall succeed splendidly. Look +here, Nell, let me speak to father, myself; if he says 'yes,' you won't +object, will you?" + +"Of course not," said Helen. + +"You are a darling--I'll soon bring father round. Now, shall we go to +bed?--I am so sleepy." + +The next morning at breakfast Polly electrified her brothers and sisters +by the very meek way in which she appealed to Helen on all occasions. + +"Do you think, Nell, that I ought to have any more of this marmalade on +fresh bread? I ate half a pot yesterday on three or four slices of hot +bread from the oven, and felt quite a dizzy stupid feeling in my head +afterwards." + +"Of course, how could you expect it to agree with you, Polly?" said +Helen, looking up innocently from her place at the tea-tray. + +"Had better have a little of this stale bread-and-butter then, dear?" +proceeded Polly in a would-be anxious tone. + +"Yes, if you will, dear. But you never like stale bread-and-butter." + +"I'll eat it if you wish me to, Helen," answered Polly, in a very meek, +good little voice. + +The two boys began to chuckle, and even Dr. Maybright looked at his +second daughter in a puzzled, abstracted way. Helen, too, colored +slightly, and wondered what Polly meant. But the young lady herself +munched her stale bread with the most immovable of faces, and even held +up the slice for Helen to scrutinize, with the gentle, good little +remark--"Have I put too much butter on it, Nell? It isn't right to +waste nice good butter, is it?" + +"Oh, Polly, how dreadful you are?" said Fly. + +"What do you mean?" said Polly, fiercely. + +She dropped her meek manners, gave one quick glare at the small speaker, +and then half turning her back on her, said in the gentlest of voices, +"What would you like me to do this morning, Helen? Shall I look over my +history lesson for an hour, and then practise scales on the piano?" + +"You may do just as you please, as far as I am concerned," replied +Helen, who felt that this sort of obedience was far worse for the others +than open rebellion. "I thought you wanted to see father, Polly. He has +just gone into his study, and perhaps he will give you ten minutes, if +you go to him at once." + +This speech of Helen's caused Polly to forget her role of the meek, +obedient martyr. Her brow cleared. + +"Thank you for reminding me, Nell," she said, in her natural voice, and +for a moment later she was knocking at the Doctor's study door. + +"Come in," he said. And when the untidy head and somewhat neglected +person of his second daughter appeared, Dr. Maybright walked towards +her. + +"I am going out, Polly, do you want me?" he said. + +"Yes, it won't take a minute," said Polly, eagerly. "May I housekeep +every second week instead of Nell? Will you give me the money instead of +her, and let me pay for everything, and buy the food. I am awfully +interested in eggs and butter, and I'll give you splendid puddings and +cakes. Please say yes, father--Nell is quite willing, if you are." + +"How old are you, Polly?" said Dr. Maybright. + +He put his hand under Polly's chin and raised her childish face to +scrutinize it closely. + +"What matter about my age," she replied; "I'm fourteen in body--I'm +twenty in mind--and as to housekeeping, I'm thirty, if not forty." + +"That head looks very like thirty, if not forty," responded the Doctor +significantly. "And that dress," glancing at where the hem was torn, and +where the body gaped open for want of sufficient hooks, "looks just the +costume I should recommend for the matron of a large establishment. Do +you know what it means to housekeep for this family, Polly?" + +"Buy the bread and butter, and the meat, and the poultry, and the tea, +and the sugar, and the citron, and raisins, and allspice, and nutmegs, +and currants, and flour, and brick-bat, and hearthstone, +and--and----" + +Dr. Maybright put his fingers to his ears. "Spare me any more," said he, +"I never ask for items. There are in this house, Polly, nine children, +myself, and four servants. That makes in all fourteen people. These +people have to be fed and clothed, and some of them have to be paid +wages too; they have to be warmed, they have to be kept clean, in short, +all their comforts of body have to be attended to; one of them requires +one thing, one quite another. For instance, the dinner which would be +admirably suited to you would kill baby, and might not be best for +Firefly, who is not strong, and has to be dieted in a particular way. I +make it a rule that servants' wages and all articles consumed in the +house are paid for weekly. Whoever housekeeps for me has to undertake +all this, and has to make a certain sum of money cover a certain +expenditure. Now do you think, Polly--do you honestly think--that you, +an ignorant little girl of fourteen, a very untidy and childish little +girl, can undertake this onerous post? I ask you to answer me quite +honestly--if you undertake it, are you in the least likely to succeed?" + +"Oh, father, I know you mean to crush me when you speak like that; but +you know you told Helen that you would like her to try to manage the +housekeeping." + +"I did--and, as I know you are fond of domestic things, I meant you to +help her a little. Helen is two years older than you, and--not the +least like you, Polly." + +Polly tossed her head. + +"I know that," she said. "Helen takes twice as long learning her +lessons. Try my French beside hers, father; or my German, or my music." + +"Or your forbearance--or your neatness," added the Doctor. + +Here he sighed deeply. + +"I miss your mother, Polly," he said. "And poor, poor child! so do you. +There, I can't waste another minute of my time with you now. Come to my +study this evening at nine, and we will discuss the matter further." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +POLLY'S RAID. + + +Polly spent some hours of that day in a somewhat mysterious occupation. +Instead of helping, as she had done lately, in quite an efficient way, +with the baby, for she was a very bright child, and could be most +charming and attractive to the smallest living creature when she chose, +she left nurse and the little brown-eyed baby to their own devices, and +took up a foraging expedition through the house. She called it her raid, +and Polly's raid proved extremely disturbing to the domestic economy of +the household. For instance, when Susan, the very neat housemaid, had +put all the bedrooms in perfect order, and was going to her own room to +change her dress and make herself tidy, it was very annoying to hear +Polly, in a peremptory tone, desiring her to give her the keys of the +linen-press. + +"For," said that young lady, "I'm going to look through the towels this +morning, Susan, to see which of them want darning, and you had better +stay with me, to take away those that have thin places in them." + +"Oh, dear me, Miss Polly," said Susan, rather pertly, "the towels is +seen to in the proper rotation. You needn't be a fretting your head +about 'em, miss. This ain't the morning for the linen-press, miss. It's +done at its proper time and hour." + +"Give me the key at once, Susan, and don't answer," said Polly. "There, +hold your apron--I'll throw the towels in. What a lot--I don't believe +we want half as many. When I take the reins of office next week, I'll +put away quite half of these towels. There can't be waste going on in +the house--I won't have it, not when I housekeep, at any rate. Susan, +wasn't that a little round speck of a hole in that towel? Ah, I thought +so. You put it aside, Susan, you'll have to darn it this afternoon. Now +then, let me see, let me see." + +Polly worked vigorously through the towels, holding them up to the light +to discover their thin places, pinching them in parts, and feeling their +texture between her finger and thumb. In the end she pronounced about a +dozen unworthy of domestic service, and Susan was desired to spend her +afternoon in repairing them. + +"I can't, then, Miss Polly," said the much injured housemaid. "It ain't +neither the day nor the hour, and I haven't got one scrap of proper +darning thread left." + +"I'll go to the village, then, and get some," said Polly. "It's only a +mile away. Things can't be neglected--it isn't right. Take the towels, +Susan, and let me find them mended to-morrow morning;" and the young +lady tripped off with a very bright color in her cheeks, and the key of +the linen-press in her pocket. + +Her next visit was to the kitchen regions. + +"Oh, Mrs. Power," she said to the cook, "I've come to see the stores. It +isn't right that they shouldn't be looked into, is it, in case of +anything falling short. Fancy if you were run out of pearl barley, Mrs. +Power, or allspice, or nutmegs, or mace. Oh, dear, it makes me quite +shiver to think of it! What a mess you would be in, if you hadn't all +your ingredients handy, in case you were making a plum-cake, or some of +those dear little tea-cakes, or a custard, or something of that sort. +Now, if you'll just give me the keys, we'll pay a visit to the +store-room, and see what is likely to be required. I have my tablet +here, and I can write the order as I look through." + +Mrs. Power was a red-faced and not a very good-humored woman. She was, +however, an excellent cook and a careful, prudent servant. Mrs. +Maybright had found her, notwithstanding her very irascible temper, a +great comfort, for she was thoroughly honest and conscientious, but even +from her late mistress Mrs. Power would never brook much interference; +it is therefore little to be wondered at that Polly's voluminous speech +was not very well received. + +Mrs. Power's broad back was to the young lady, as she danced gleefully +into the kitchen, and it remained toward her, with one ear just slightly +turned in her direction, all the time she was speaking. + +Mrs. Power was busy at the moment removing the fat from a large vessel +full of cold soup. She has some pepper and salt, and nutmegs and other +flavoring ingredients on the table beside her, and when Polly's speech +came to a conclusion she took up the pepper canister and certainly +flavored the soup with a very severe dose. + +"If I was you, I'd get out of the hot kitchen, child--I'm busy, and not +attending to a word you're talking about." + +No answer could have been more exasperating to Polly. She, too, had her +temper, and had no idea of being put down by twenty Mrs. Powers. + +"Take care, you're spoiling the soup," she said. "That's twice too much +pepper--and oh, what a lot of salt! Don't you know, Mrs. Power, that +it's very wicked to waste good food in that way--it is, really, perhaps +you did not think of it in that light, but it is. I'm afraid you can't +ever have attended any cookery classes, Mrs. Power, or you'd know better +than to put all that pepper into that much soup. Why it ought to be--it +ought to be--let me see, I think it's the tenth of an ounce to half a +gallon of soup. I'm not quite sure, but I'll look up the cookery +lectures and let you know. Now, where's the key of the store-room--we'd +better set to work for the morning is going on, and I have a great deal +on my hands. Where's the key of the store-room, Mrs. Power?" + +"There's only one key that I know much about at the present moment," +replied the exasperated cook, "and that's the key of the kitchen-door; +come, child--I'm going to put you on the other side of it;" and so +saying, before Polly was in the least aware of her intention, she was +caught up in Mrs. Power's stalwart arms, and placed on the flags outside +the kitchen, while the door was boldly locked in her face. + +This was really a check, almost a checkmate, and for a time Polly quite +shook with fury, but after a little she sufficiently recovered herself +to reflect that the reins of authority had not yet been absolutely +placed in her hands, and it might be wisest for her to keep this defeat +to herself. + +"Poor old Power! you won't be here long when I'm housekeeper," reflected +Polly. "It would not be right--you're not at all a good servant. Why, I +know twice as much already as you do." + +She went slowly upstairs, and going to the school-room, where the girls +were all busying themselves in different fashions, sat down by her own +special desk, and made herself very busy dividing a long old-fashioned +rosewood box into several compartments by means of stout cardboard +divisions. She was really a clever little maid in her own way, and the +box when finished looked quite neat. Each division was labeled, and +Polly's cheeks glowed as she surveyed her handiwork. + +"What a very queer box," said Dolly, coming forward. "What are you so +long about, Poll Parrot? And, oh, what red cheeks!" + +"Never you mind," said Polly, shutting up her box. "It's finished now, +and quite ready for father to see to-night. I'm going to become a very +important personage, Miss Doll--so you'd better begin to treat me with +respect. Oh, dear, where's the cookery book? Helen, do you know where +the "Lectures on Elementary Cookery" is? Just fancy, Nell, cook doesn't +know how much pepper should go to a gallon of soup! Did you ever hear of +such shameful ignorance?" + +"Why, you surely have not been speaking to her on the subject?" said +Helen, who was busily engaged darning Bunny's socks; she raised her head +and looked at Polly in some surprise as she spoke. + +"Oh, have I not, though?" Polly's charming, merry face twinkled all +over. + +"I saw Susan crying just now," interposed Mabel. "She said Polly had +been--why, what is the matter, Poll?" + +"Nothing," said Poll, "only if I were you, Mabel, I wouldn't tell tales +out of school. I'm going to be a person of importance, so if you're +wise, all of you, you'll keep at my blind side. Oh dear! where is that +cookery book? Girls, you may each tell me what puddings you like best, +and what cake, and what dish for breakfast, and----" + +But here the dinner gong put an end to a subject of much interest. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE GROWN-UPS. + + +In the evening Polly had her interview with her father. Dr. Maybright +had gone through a long and fatiguing day; some anxious cases caused him +disquiet, and his recent sorrow lay heavily against his heart. How was +the father of seven daughters, and two very scampish little sons, to +bring them up alone and unaided? How was a man's own heart to do without +the sympathy to which it had turned, the love which had strengthened, +warmed, and sustained it? Dr. Maybright was standing by the window, +looking out at the familiar garden, which showed shadowy and indistinct +in the growing dusk, when Polly crept softly into the room, and, going +up to his side, laid her pretty dimpled hand on his arm. + +"Now, father," she said, eagerly, "about the housekeeping? I'm all +prepared--shall we go into the subject now?" + +Dr. Maybright sighed, and with an effort roused himself out of a reverie +which was becoming very painful. + +"My little girl," he said, pushing back the tumbled hair from Polly's +sunshiny face. Then he added, with a sudden change of manner, "Oh, what +a goose you are, Polly--you know as much about housekeeping as I do, +and that is nothing at all." + +"I wouldn't make bold assertions," replied Polly, saucily--"I wouldn't +really, father dear; I couldn't cure a sick person, of course not, but I +could make a very nice cake for one." + +"Well, let's go into the matter," said the Doctor moving to his study +table. "I have a quarter of an hour to give you, my dear, then I want to +go into the village to see Mrs. Judson before she settles for the night; +she has a nasty kind of low fever about her, and her husband is anxious, +so I promised to look in. By the way, Polly, don't any of you go nearer +the Judsons' house until I give you leave; walk at the other side of the +village, if you must go there at all. Now, my dear, about this +housekeeping. Are you seriously resolved to force your attentions upon +us for a week? We shall certainly all be most uncomfortable, and severe +attacks of indigestion will probably be the result. Is your heart set on +this, Polly, child? For, if so--well, your mother never thwarted you, +did she?" + +"No, father, never--but don't talk of mother, for I don't think I can +bear it. When I was with mother somehow or other, I don't know why, I, +never wished for anything she did not like." + +"Just so, my dear child. Turn up the lamp, if you please, Polly--sit +there, will you--I want to see your face. Now I will reply to the first +part of your last remark. You asked me not to speak of your mother, my +dear; I certainly will mention her name to her children. She has gone +away, but she is still one with us. Why should our dearest household +word be buried? Why should not her influence reach you and Helen and +Dolly from where she now is? She is above--she has gone into the higher +life, but she can lead you up. You understand me, Polly. Thoughts of +your mother must be your best, your noblest thoughts from this out." + +"Yes, father, yes," said Polly. Her lips were trembling, her eyes were +brimful, she clasped and unclasped her hands with painful tension. + +Dr. Maybright bent forward and kissed her on her forehead. + +"Your mother once said to me," he continued, in a lighter tone, "Polly +is the most peculiar and difficult to manage of all my children. She has +a vein of obstinacy in her which no persuasion will overcome. It can +only be reached by the lessons which experience teaches. If possible, +and where it is not absolutely wrong, I always give Polly her own way. +She is a truthful child, and when her eyes are opened she seldom asks to +repeat the experiment." + +"Mother was thinking of the hive of honey," said Polly, gravely. "When I +worried her dreadfully she let me go and take some honey away. I thought +I could manage the bees just as cleverly as Hungerford does, but I got +nervous just at the end, and I was stung in four places. I never told +any one about the stings, only mother found out." + +"You did not fetch any more honey from that hive, eh, Polly?" asked the +Doctor. + +"No, father. And then there was another time--and oh, yes, many other +times. But I did not know mother was just trying to teach me, when she +seemed so kind and sympathizing, and used to say in that voice of +hers--you remember mother's cheerful voice, father?--'Well, Polly, it +is a difficult thing, but do your best.'" + +"All right, child," said the Doctor, "I perceive that your mother's plan +was a wise one. Tell me quickly what ideas you have with regard to +keeping this establishment together, for it is almost time for me to run +away to Mrs. Judson. I allow eight pounds a week for all household +expenses, servants' wages, coal, light, food, medicine. I shall not +allow you to begin with so much responsibility, but for a week you may +provide our table." + +"And see after the servants, please, father?" interrupted Polly, in an +eager voice. + +"Well, I suppose so, just for one week, that is, after Helen has had her +turn. Your mother always managed, with the help of the vegetables and +fruit from the garden, to bring the mere table expenses into four pounds +a week; but _she_ was a most excellent manager." + +"Oh, father, I can easily do it too. Why it's a lot of money! four +pounds--eighty shillings! I shouldn't be a bit surprised if I did it +for less." + +"Remember, Polly, I allow no stinting; we must have a plentiful table. +No stinting, and no running in debt. Those are the absolute conditions, +otherwise I do not trust you with a penny." + +"I'll keep them, father--never fear! Oh, how delighted I am! I know +you'll be pleased; I know what you'll say by-and-by. I'm certain I won't +fail, certain. I always loved cooking and housekeeping. Fancy making +pie-crust myself, and cakes, and custards! Mrs. Power is rather cross, +but she'll have to let me make what things I choose when I'm +housekeeper, won't she, father?" + +"Manage it your own way, dear, I neither interfere nor wish to +interfere. Oh, what a mess we shall be in! But thank heaven it is only +for a week. My dear child, I allow you to have your way, but I own it is +with trepidation. Now I must really go to Mrs. Judson." + +"But one moment, please, father. I have not shown you my plan. You think +badly of me now, but you won't, indeed you won't presently. I am all +system, I assure you. I see my way so clearly. I'll retrench without +being mean, and I'll economize without being stingy. Don't I use fine +words, father? That's because I understand the subject so thoroughly." + +"Quite so, Polly. Now I must be going. Good-night, my dear." + +"But my plan--you must stay to hear it. Do you see this box? It has +little divisions. I popped them all in before dinner to-day. There is a +lock and key to the box, and the lock is a strong one." + +"Well, Polly?" + +The Doctor began to get into his overcoat. + +"Look, father, dear, please look. Each little division is marked with a +name. This one is Groceries, this one is Butcher, this is Milk, butter, +and eggs, this is Baker, this is Cheesemonger, and this is Sundries--oh +yes, and laundress, I must screw in a division for laundress somehow. +Now, father, this is my delightful plan. When you give me my four +pounds--my eighty shillings--I'll get it all changed into silver, and +I'll divide it into equal portions, and drop so much into the grocery +department, so much into the butcher's, so much into the baker's. Don't +you see how simple it will be?" + +"Very, my dear--the game of chess is nothing to it. Good-night, Polly. I +sincerely hope no serious results will accrue from these efforts on my +part to teach you experience." + +The Doctor walked quickly down the avenue. + +"I'm quite resolved," he said to himself, "to bring them all up as much +as possible on their mother's plan, but if Polly requires many such +lessons as I am forced to give her to-night, there is nothing for it but +to send her to school. For really such an experience as we are about to +go through at her hands is enough to endanger health, to say nothing of +peace and domestic quiet. The fact is, I really am a much worried man. +It's no joke bringing up seven motherless girls, each of them with +characters; the boys are a simple matter--they have school before them, +and a career of some sort, but the girls--it really is an awful +responsibility. Even the baby has a strong individuality of her own--I +see it already in her brown eyes--bless her, she has got her mother's +eyes. But my queer, wild, clever Polly--what a week we shall have with +you presently! Now, who is that crying and sobbing in the dark?" + +The Doctor swooped suddenly down on a shadowy object, which lay prone +under an arbutus shrub. "My dear little Firefly, what _is_ the matter? +You ought to be in bed ages ago--out here in the damp and cold, and +such deep-drawn sobs! What has nurse been about? This is really +extremely careless." + +"It wasn't nurse's fault," sobbed Firefly, nestling her head into her +father's cheek. "I ran away from her. I hided from her on purpose." + +"Then you were the naughty one. What is the matter, dear? Why do you +make things worse for me and for us all just now?" + +Firefly's head sank still lower. Her hot little cheek pressed her +father's with an acute longing for sympathy. Instinct told him of the +child's need. He walked down the avenue, holding her closely. + +"Wasn't you going the other way, father?" asked Firefly, squeezing her +arms tight around his neck. + +"No matter, I must see you home first. Now what were those sobs about? +And why did you hide yourself from nurse?" + +"'Cause I wanted to be downstairs, to listen to the grown-ups." + +"The grown-ups? My dear, who are they?" + +"Oh, Nell, and Poll Parrot, and Katie; I don't mind about Nell and +Polly, but it isn't fair that Katie should be made a grown-up--and she +is--she is, really, father. She is down in the school-room so +important, and just like a regular grown-up, so I couldn't stand it." + +"I see. You wanted to be a grown-up too--you are seven years old, are +you not?" + +"I'm more. I'm seven and a half--Katie is only eleven." + +"Quite so! Katie is young compared to you, isn't she, Firefly. Still, I +don't see my way. You wished to join the grown-ups, but I found you +sobbing on the damp grass under one of the shrubs near the avenue. Is it +really under a damp arbutus shrub that the grown-ups intend to take +counsel?" + +"Oh no, father, no--" here the sobs began again. "They were horrid, oh +they were horrid. They locked me out--I banged against the door, but +they wouldn't open. It was then I came up here. I wouldn't have minded +if it hadn't been for Katie." + +"I see, my child. Well, run to bed now, and leave the matter in father's +hands. Ask nurse to give you a hot drink, and not to scold, for father +knows about it." + +"_Darling_ father--oh, how good you are! Don't I love you! Just another +kiss--_what_ a good father you are!" + +Firefly hugged the tall doctor ecstatically. He saw her disappear into +the house, and once more pursued his way down the avenue. + +"Good!" he echoed to himself. "Never did a more harassed man walk. How +am I to manage those girls?" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME? + + +Helen and Polly were seated together in the pleasant morning-room. Helen +occupied her mother's chair, her feet were on a high footstool, and by +her side, on a small round table, stood a large basket filled with a +heterogeneous collection of odd socks and stockings, odd gloves, pieces +of lace and embroidery, some wool, a number of knitting needles, in +short, a confused medley of useful but run-to-seed-looking articles +which the young housekeeper was endeavoring to reduce out of chaos into +order. + +"Oh, Polly, how you have tangled up all this wool; and where's the +fellow of this gray glove? And--Polly, Polly--here's the handkerchief +you had such a search for last week. Now, how often do you intend me to +put this basket in order for you?" + +"Once a week, dear, if not oftener," answered Polly, in suave tones. +"Please don't speak for a moment or two, Nell. I'm so much interested in +this new recipe for pie-crust. You melt equal portions of lard and butter +in so much boiling water--that's according to the size of the pie; then +you mix it into the flour, kneading it very well--and--and--and--" +Polly's voice dropped to a kind of buzz, her head sank lower over the +large cookery-book which she was studying; her elbows were on the table, +her short curling hair fell over her eyes, and a dimpled hand firmly +pressed each cheek. + +Helen sighed slightly, and returned with a little gesture of resignation +to the disentangling of Polly's work-basket. As she did so she seated +herself more firmly in her mother's arm-chair. Her little figure looked +slight in its deep and ample dimensions, and her smooth fair face was +slightly puckered with anxiety. + +"Polly," she said, suddenly; "Polly, leave that book alone. There's more +in the world than housekeeping and pie-crust. Do you know that I have +discovered something, and I think, I really do think, that we ought to +go on with it. It was mother's plan, and father will always agree to +anything she wished." + +Polly shut up Mrs. Beaton's cookery-book with a bang, rose from her seat +at the table, and opening the window sat down where the wind could +ruffle her hair and cool her hot cheeks. + +"This is Friday," she said, "and my duties begin on Monday. Helen, +pie-crust is not unimportant when success or failure hangs upon it; +puddings may become vital, Helen, and, as to cheesecakes, I would stake +everything I possess in the world on the manner in which father munches +my first cheesecake. Well, dear, never mind; I'll try and turn my +distracted thoughts in your direction for a bit. What's the discovery?" + +"Only," said Helen, "that I think I know what makes father look so gray, +and why he has a stoop, and why his eyes seem so sunken. Of course there +is the loss of our mother, but that is not the only trouble. I think he +has another, and I think also, Polly, that he had this other trouble +before mother died, and that she helped him to bear it, and made plans +to lighten it for him. You remember what one of her plans was, and how +we weren't any of us too well pleased. But I have been thinking lately, +since I began to guess father's trouble, that we ought to carry it out +just the same as if our mother was with us." + +"Yes," said Polly. "You have a very exciting way of putting things, +Nell, winding one up and up, and not letting in the least little morsel +of light. What is father's trouble, and what was the plan? I can't +remember any plan, and I only know about father that he's the noblest of +all noble men, and that he bears mother's loss--well, as nobody else +would have borne it. What other trouble has our dear father, Nell? God +wouldn't be so cruel as to give him another trouble." + +"God is never cruel," said Helen, a beautiful, steadfast light shining +in her eyes. "I couldn't let go the faith that God is always good. But +father--oh, Polly, Polly, I am dreadfully afraid that father is going +to lose his sight." + +"What?" said Polly. "_What?_ father lose his sight? No, I'm not going to +listen to you, Nell. You needn't talk like that. It's perfectly horrid +of you. I'll go away at once and ask him. Father! Why, his eyes are as +bright as possible. I'll go this minute and ask him." + +"No, don't do that, Polly. I would never have spoken if I wasn't really +sure, and I don't think it would be right to ask him, or to speak about +it, until he tells us about it himself. But I began to guess it a little +bit lately, when I saw how anxious mother seemed. For she was anxious, +although she was the brightest of all bright people. And after her death +father said I was to look through some of her letters; and I found one +or two which told me that what I suspected was the case, and father +may--indeed, he probably will--become quite blind, by-and-by. That +was--that was--What's the matter, Polly?" + +"Nothing," said Polly. "You needn't go on--you needn't say any more. +It's a horrid world, nothing is worth living for; pie-crust, nor +housekeeping, nor nothing. I hate the world, and every one in it, and I +hate _you_ most of all, Nell, for your horrid news. Father blind! No, I +won't believe it; it's all a lie." + +"Poor Polly," said Helen. "Don't believe it, dear, I wish _I_ didn't. I +think I know a little bit how you feel. I'm not so hot and hasty and +passionate as you, and oh, I'm not half, nor a quarter, so clever, but +still, I do know how you feel; I--Polly, you startle me." + +"Only you don't hate me at this moment," said Polly. "And I--don't I +hate you, just! There, you can say anything after that. I know I'm a +wretch--I know I'm hopeless. Even mother would say I was hopeless if +she saw me now, hating you, the kindest and best of sisters. But I do, +yes, I do, most heartily. So you see you aren't like me, Helen." + +"I certainly never hated any one," said Helen. "But you are excited, +Polly, and this news is a shock to you. We won't talk about it one way +or other, now, and we'll try as far as possible not to think of it, +except in so far as it ought to make us anxious to carry out mother's +plan." + +Polly had crouched back away from the window, her little figure all +huddled up, her cheeks with carnation spots on them, and her eyes, +brimful of the tears which she struggled not to shed, were partly hidden +by the folds of the heavy curtain which half-enveloped her. + +"You were going to say something else dreadfully unpleasant," she +remarked. "Well, have it out. Nothing can hurt me very much just now." + +"It's about the strangers," said Helen. "The strangers who were to come +in October. You surely can't have forgotten them, Polly." + +Like magic the thunder-cloud departed from Polly's face. The tears dried +in her bright eyes, and the curtain no longer enveloped her slight, +young figure. + +"Why, of course," she said. "The strangers, how could I have forgotten! +How curious we were about them. We didn't know their names. Nothing, +nothing at all--except that there were two, and that they were coming +from Australia. I always thought of them as Paul and Virginia. Dear, +dear, dear, I shall have more housekeeping than ever on my shoulders +with them about the place." + +"They were coming in October," said Helen, quietly. "Everything was +arranged, although so little was known. They were coming in a sailing +vessel, and the voyage was to be a long one, and mother, herself, was +going to meet them. Mother often said that they would arrive about the +second week in October." + +"In three weeks from now?" said Polly, "We are well on in September, +now. I can't imagine how we came to forget Paul and Virginia. Why, of +course, poor children, they must be quite anxious to get to us. I wonder +if I'd be a good person to go and meet them. You are so shy with +strangers, you know, Nell, and I'm not. Mother used to say I didn't know +what _mauvaise honte_ meant. I don't say that I _like_ meeting them, +poor things, but I'll do it, if it's necessary. Still, Helen, I cannot +make out what special plan there is in the strangers coming. Nor what it +has to do with father, with that horrid piece of news you told me a few +minutes ago." + +"It has a good deal to say to it, if you will only listen," said Helen. +"I have discovered by mother's letters that the father of the strangers +is to pay to our father £400 a year as long as his children live here. +They were to be taught, and everything done for them, and the strangers' +father was to send over a check for £100 for them every quarter. Now, +Polly, listen. Our father is not poor, but neither is he rich, and +if--if what we fear is going to happen, he won't earn nearly so much +money in his profession. So it seems a great pity he should lose this +chance of earning £400 a year." + +"But nobody wants him to lose it," said Polly. "Paul and Virginia will +be here in three weeks, and then the pay will begin. £400 a year--let +me see, that's just about eight pounds a week, that's what father says +he spends on the house, that's a lot to spend, I could do it for much +less. But no matter. What are you puckering your brows for, Helen? Of +course the strangers are coming." + +"Father said they were not to come," replied Helen. "He told me so some +weeks ago. When they get to the docks he himself is going to meet them, +and he will take them to another home which he has been inquiring about. +He says that we can't have them here now." + +"But we must have them here," said Polly. "What nonsense! We must both +of us speak to our father at once." + +"I have been thinking it over," said Helen, in her gentle voice, "and I +do really feel that it is a pity to lose this chance of helping father +and lightening his cares. You see, Polly, it depends on us. Father would +do it if he could trust us, you and me, I mean." + +"Well, so he can trust us," replied Polly, glibly. "Everything will be +all right. There's no occasion to make a fuss, or to be frightened. We +have got to be firm, and rather old for our years, and if either of us +puts down her foot she has got to keep it down." + +"I don't know that at all," said Helen. "Mother sometimes said it was +wise to yield. Oh, Polly, I don't feel at all wise enough for all that +is laid on me. We have to be examples in everything. I do want to help +father, but it would be worse to promise to help him and then to fail." + +"I'm not the least afraid," said Polly. "The strangers must come, and +father's purse must be filled in that jolly manner. I don't believe the +story about his eyes, Nell, but it will do him good to feel that he has +got a couple of steady girls like us to see to him. Now I'm arranging a +list of puddings for next week, so you had better not talk any more. +We'll speak to father about Paul and Virginia after dinner." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +LIMITS. + + +Even the wisest men know very little of household management, and never +did an excellent and well-intentioned individual put, to use a +well-known phrase, his foot more completely into it than Dr. Maybright +when he allowed Polly to learn experience by taking the reins of +household management for a week. + +Except in matters that related to his own profession, Dr. Maybright was +apt to be slightly absent-minded; here he was always keenly alive. When +visiting a patient not a symptom escaped him, not a flicker of timid +eyelids passed unnoticed, not a passing shade of color on the invalid's +countenance but called for his acute observation. In household matters, +however, he was apt to overlook trifles, and very often completely to +forget what seemed to his family important arrangements. He was the kind +of man who was sure to be very much beloved at home, for he was neither +fretful nor fussy, but took large views of all things. Such people are +appreciated, and if his children thought him the best of all men, his +servants also spoke of him as the most perfect of masters. + +"You might put anything before him," Mrs. Power would aver. "Bless his +'art, _he_ wouldn't see, nor _he_ wouldn't scold. Ef it were rinsings of +the tea-pot he would drink it instead of soup; and I say, and always +will say, that ef a cook don't jelly the soup for the like of a +gentleman like the doctor what have no mean ways and no fusses, she +ain't fit to call herself a cook." + +So just because they loved him, Dr. Maybright's servants kept his table +fairly well, and his house tolerably clean, and the domestic machinery +went on wheels, not exactly oiled, but with no serious clog to their +progress. + +These things of course happened since Mrs. Maybright's death. In her day +this gentlest and firmest of mistresses, this most tactful of women, +kept all things in their proper place, and her servants obeyed her with +both will and cheerfulness. + +On the Saturday before Polly's novitiate poor Dr. Maybright's troubles +began. He had completely forgotten all about his promise to Polly, and +was surprised when the little girl skipped into his study after +breakfast, with her black frock put on more neatly than usual, her hair +well brushed and pushed off her face, and a wonderful brown holland +apron enveloping her from her throat to her ankles. The apron had +several pockets, and certainly gave Polly a quaint and original +appearance. + +"Here I am, father," she said. "I have come for the money, please." + +"The--the what, my dear?" + +Dr. Maybright put up his eye-glass, and surveyed the little figure +critically. + +"Are these pockets for your school-books?" he said. "It is not a bad +idea; only don't lose them, Polly. I don't like untidy books scattered +here and there." + +Polly took the opportunity to dart a quick, anxious glance into her +father's eyes--they were bright, dark, clear. Of course Helen's horrid +story was untrue. Her spirits rose, she gave a little skip, and clasped +her hands on the Doctor's arm. + +"These are housekeeping pockets, father," she said. "Nothing at all to +say to books. I'm domestic, not intellectual; my housekeeping begins on +Monday, you know, and I've come for the eighty shillings now. Can you +give it to me in silver, not in gold, for I want to divide it, and pop +it into the little box with divisions at once?" + +"Bless me," said the Doctor, "I'd forgotten--I did not know that +indigestion week was so near. Well, here you are, Polly, two pounds in +gold and two pounds in silver. I can't manage more than two sovereigns' +worth of silver, I fear. Now my love, as you are strong, be +merciful--give us only small doses of poison at each meal. I beseech of +you, Polly, be temperate in your zeal." + +"You laugh at me," said Polly, "Well, never mind. I'm too happy to care. +I don't expect you'll talk about poisoning when you have eaten my +cheesecakes. And father, dear father, you _will_ let Paul and Virginia +come? Nell and I meant to speak to you yesterday about them, but you +were out all day. With me to housekeep, and Nell to look after +everybody, you needn't have the smallest fear about Paul and Virginia; +they can come and they can line your pockets, can't they?" + +"My dear child, I have not an idea what you are talking about. Who _are_ +Paul and Virginia--have I not a large enough family without taking in +the inhabitants of a desert island? There, I can't wait to hear +explanations now; that is my patients' bell--run away, my dear, run +away." + +Dr. Maybright always saw his poorer patients gratis on Saturday morning +from ten to twelve. This part of his work pleased him, for he was the +sort of man who thought that the affectionate and grateful glance in the +eye, and the squeeze of the hand, and the "God bless you, doctor," paid +in many cases better than the guinea's worth. He had an interesting case +this morning, and again Polly and her housekeeping slipped from his +mind. He was surprised, therefore, in the interim between the departure +of one patient and the arrival of another, to hear a somewhat tremulous +tap at his study door, and on his saying "Come in," to see the pretty +but decidedly ruffled face of his housemaid Alice presenting herself. + +"Ef you please, Doctor, I won't keep you a minute, but I thought I'd ask +you myself ef it's your wish as Miss Polly should go and give orders +that on Monday morning I'm to turn the linen-press out from top to +bottom, and to do it first of all before the rooms is put straight. And +if I'm to unpick the blue muslin curtains, and take them down from where +they was hung by my late blessed mistress's orders, in the spare room, +and to fit them into the primrose room over the porch--for she says +there's a Miss Virginy and a Master Paul coming, and the primrose room +with the blue curtains is for one of them, she says. And I want to know +from you, please, Doctor, if Miss Polly is to mistress it over me? And +to take away the keys of the linen-press from me, and to follow me +round, and to upset all my work, what I never stood, nor would stand. I +want to know if it's your wish, Doctor?" + +"The fact is, Alice," began the Doctor--he put his hand to his brow, +and a dim look came over his eyes--"the fact is--ah, that is my +patients' bell, I must ask you to go, Alice, and to--to moderate your +feelings. I have been anxious to give Miss Polly a lesson in experience, +and it is only for a week. You will oblige me very much, Alice, by +helping me in this matter." + +The Doctor walked to the door as he spoke, and opened it courteously. + +"Come in, Johnson," he said, to a ruddy-faced farmer, who was +accompanied by a shy boy with a swelled face. "Come in; glad to see you, +my friend. Is Tommy's toothache better?" + +Alice said afterwards that she never felt smaller in her life than when +Dr. Maybright opened the study door to show her out. + +"Ef I'd been a queen he couldn't have done it more elegant," she +remarked. "Eh, but he's a blessed man, and one would put up with two +Miss Pollys for the sake of serving him." + +The Doctor having conquered Alice, again forgot his second daughter's +vagaries, but a much sterner and more formidable interview was in store +for him; it was one thing to conquer Alice, who was impressionable, and +had a soft heart, and another to encounter the stony visage and rather +awful presence of Mrs. Power. + +"It's to give notice I've come, Dr. Maybright," she said, dropping a +curtsey, and twisting a corner of her large white apron round with one +formidable red hand. "It's to give notice. This day month, please, +Doctor, and, though I says it as shouldn't, you won't get no one else to +jelly your soups, nor feather your potatoes, nor puff your pastry, as +Jane Power has done. But there's limits, Dr. Maybright; and I has come +to give you notice, though out of no disrespect to you, sir." + +"Then why do you do it, Mrs. Power?" said the Doctor. "You are an honest +and conscientious servant, I know that from your late mistress's +testimony. You cook very good dinners too, and you make suitable +puddings for the children, and pastry not too rich. Why do you want to +leave? I don't like change; and, if it is a question of wages, perhaps I +may be able to meet you." + +"I'm obligated to you, Doctor; but it ain't that. I has my twenty-two +pounds paid regular, and all found. I ain't grumbling on that score, and +Jane Power was never havaricious nor grasping. I'm obligated too by what +you says with respect to the pastry; but, Doctor, it ain't in mortal +woman to stand a chit of a child being put over her. So I'm going this +day month; and, with your leave, I'll turn the key in the kitchen-door +next week, or else I'll forfeit my wage and go at once." + +"Dear, dear," said the Doctor. "This is really embarrassing. I never +thought that Polly's experience would upset the household economy in so +marked a manner. I am really annoyed, for I certainly gave her leave to +housekeep for a week." + +"It isn't as I minds youth, Dr. Maybright," continued Mrs. Power. "I +makes due allowances for the young, for I says to myself, 'Jane Power, +you was once, so to speak, like an unfledged chick yourself;' but +there's youth _and_ youth, Dr. Maybright; and Miss Polly's of the kind +as makes your 'air stand on hend." + +"Poor Polly," said the Doctor. + +"No, sir, begging your parding, if you was in the kitchen, it's 'poor +Mrs. Power' you'd be a-saying. Now I don't say nothing agin Miss +Nelly--she's the elder, and she have nice ways with her--she takes a +little bit after my poor dear mistress; oh, what a nature was hers, +blessed angel!" + +Here Mrs. Power rolled her eyes skywards, and the Doctor, turning his +back, walked to the window. + +"Be brief," he said, "I am pressed for time." + +"Sir, I was never one for long words; agen' Miss Helen I haven't a word +to say. She comes down to the kitchen after breakfast as pretty as you +please, and she says, 'Power,' says she, 'you'll advise me about the +dinner to-day,' says she. 'Shall we have minced collops, or roast beef? +And shall we have fruit tart with custard?' Pretty dear, she don't know +nothink, and she owns it, and I counsel her, as who that wasn't the most +hard-hearted would. But Miss Polly, she's all on wires like, and she +bounds in and she says that I pepper the soup too strong, and that I +ought to go to cookery schools, and ef I'll go with her that blessed +minit she'll tell me what I wants in my own store-room. There's limits. +Dr. Maybright, and Miss Polly's my limits; so, ef you'll have no +objection, sir, I'll go this day month." + +"But I have an objection," replied Dr. Maybright. "Even Polly's +experiment must not cost me a valuable servant. Mrs. Power, I have +promised my little girl, and I feel more than convinced that her week's +trial will ensure to you the freedom you desire and deserve in the +future. Listen, I have a plan. Suppose you go for a week's holiday on +Monday?" + +"Oh, my word, sir! And are you to be poisoned hout and hout?" + +"That is unlikely. Maggie, your kitchen-maid, is fond of cooking, and +she won't quarrel with Miss Polly. Let us consider it arranged, then. A +week's holiday won't do you any harm, cook, and your expenses I will +defray. Now, excuse me, I must go out at once. The carriage has been at +the door for some time." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +INDIGESTION WEEK. + + +It was quite early on the following Monday morning when a light tap was +heard outside the door of the room where Helen and Polly slept. It was a +very light, modest, and uncertain tap, and it has not the smallest +effect upon Helen, who lay in soft slumber, her pretty eyes closed, her +gentle face calm and rounded and child-like, and the softest breathing +coming from her rosy, parted lips. + +Another little girl, however, was not asleep. At that modest tap up +sprang a curly head, two dark, bright eyes opened wide, two white feet +sprang quickly but noiselessly on to the floor, and Polly had opened the +bedroom door wide to admit the short, dumpy, but excited little person +of Maggie, the kitchen-maid. + +"She's a-going, Miss Polly--she's a-packing her bandbox now, and +putting the strap on. She's in a hawful temper, but she'll be out of the +house in less than half an hour. There's a beautiful fire in the +kitchen, Miss, and the pan for frying bacon is polished up so as you +could 'most see yourself in it. And the egg-saucepan is there all 'andy, +and the kettle fizzing and sputtering. I took cook up her breakfast, but +she said she didn't want none of our poisonous messes, and she'd +breakfast with her cousin in the village if we'd no objection. She'll be +gone in no time now, Miss Polly, and I'm a-wanting to know when you'll +be a-coming down stairs." + +"I'm going to dress immediately, Maggie," said Polly. "I've scarcely +slept all night, for this is an anxious moment for me. I'll join you in +half an hour at the latest, Maggie, and have lots of saucepans and +frying-pans and gridirons ready. Keep the fire well up too, and see that +the oven is hot. There, fly away, I'll join you soon." + +Maggie, who was only sixteen herself, almost skipped down the passage. +After the iron reign of Mrs. Power, to work for Polly seemed like play +to her. + +"She's a duck," she said to herself, "a real cozy duck of a young lady. +Oh, my word, won't we spin through the stores this week! Won't we just!" + +Meanwhile Polly was hastily getting into her clothes. She did not wish +to wake Helen, for she was most anxious that no one should know that on +the first morning of her housekeeping she had arisen soon after six +o'clock. Her plans were all laid beforehand, and a wonderfully +methodical and well arranged programme, considering her fourteen years, +was hers; she was all agog with eagerness to carry it out. + +"Oh, won't they have a breakfast this morning," she said to herself. +"Won't they open their eyes, and won't Bob and Bunny look greedy. And +Firefly--I must watch Firefly over those hot cakes, or she may make +herself sick. Poor father and Nell--they'll both be afraid at first +that I'm a little too lavish and inclined to be extravagant, but they'll +see by-and-by, and they'll acknowledge deep down in their hearts that +there never was such a housekeeper as Polly." + +As the little maid dreamed these pleasant thoughts she scrambled +somewhat untidily into her clothes, gave her hair a somewhat less +careful brush than usual, and finally knelt down to say her morning +prayer. Helen still slept, and Polly by a sudden impulse chose to kneel +by Helen's bed and not her own. She pressed her curly head against the +mattress, and eagerly whispered her petitions. She was excited and +sanguine, for this was to her a moment of triumph; but as she prayed a +feeling of rest and yet of longing overpowered her. + +"Oh, I am happy to-day," she murmured--"but oh, mother, oh, mother, I'd +give everything in all the wide world to have you back again! I'd live +on bread and water--I'd spend years in a garret just for you to kiss me +once again, mother, mother!" + +Helen stirred in her sleep, for Polly's last impulsive words were spoken +aloud. + +"Has mother come back?" she asked. + +Her eyes were closed, she was dreaming. Polly bent down and answered +her. + +"No," she said. "It is only me--the most foolish of all her children, +who wants her so dreadfully." + +Helen sighed, and turned her head uneasily, and Polly, wiping away some +moisture from her eyes, ran out of the room. + +Her housekeeping apron was on, her precious money box was under her arm, +the keys of the linen-press jingled against a thimble and a couple of +pencils in the front pocket of the apron. Polly was going down stairs to +fulfill her great mission; it was impossible for her spirits long to be +downcast. The house was deliciously still, for only the servants were up +at present, but the sun sent in some rays of brightness at the large +lobby windows, and the little girl laughed aloud in her glee. + +"Good morning, sun! it is nice of you to smile at me the first morning +of my great work. It is very good-natured of you to come instead of +sending that disagreeable friend of yours, Mr. Rain. Oh, how delicious +it is to be up early. Why, it is not half-past six yet--oh, what a +breakfast I shall prepare for father!" + +In the kitchen, which was a large, cheerful apartment looking out on the +vegetable garden, Polly found her satellite, Maggie, on the very tiptoe +of expectation. + +"I has laid the servants' breakfast in the 'all, Miss Polly; I thought +as you shouldn't be bothered with them, with so to speak such a lot on +your hands this morning. So I has laid it there, and lit a fire for +them, and all Jane has to do when she's ready is to put the kettle on, +for the tea's on the table in the small black caddy, so there'll be no +worriting over them. And ef you please, Miss Polly, I made bold to have +a cup of tea made and ready for you, Miss--here it is, if you please, +Miss, and a cut off the brown home-made loaf." + +"Delicious," said Polly; "I really am as hungry as possible, although I +did not know it until I saw this nice brown bread-and-butter. Why, you +have splendid ideas in you, Maggie; you'll make a first-rate cook yet. +But now"--here the young housekeeper thought it well to put on a severe +manner--"I must know what breakfast you have arranged for the servants' +hall. It was good-natured of you to think of saving me trouble, Maggie, +but please understand that during this week you do nothing on your own +responsibility. _I_ am the housekeeper, and although I don't say I am +old, I am quite old enough to be obeyed." + +"Very well, Miss," said Maggie, who had gone to open her oven, and poke +up the fire while Polly was speaking; "it's a weight off my shoulders, +Miss, for I wasn't never one to be bothered with thinking. Mother says +as I haven't brains as would go on the top of a sixpenny-bit, so what's +to be expected of me, Miss. There, the oven's all of a beautiful glow, +and 'ull bake lovely. You was asking what breakfast I has put in the +servants' 'all--well, cold bacon and plenty of bread, and a good pat of +the cooking butter. Why, Miss Polly, oh, lor, what is the matter, Miss?" + +"Only that you have done very wrong, Maggie," said Polly. "You would not +like to have lots of good things going up to the dining-room, and have +no share yourself. I call it selfish of you, Maggie, for of course you +knew you would be in the kitchen with me, and would be sure to come in +for bits. Cold bacon, indeed! Poor servants, they're not likely to care +for my housekeeping if that is all I provide for them! No, Maggie, when +I made out my programme, I thought of the servants as well as the +family. I will just refer to my tablets, Maggie, and see what breakfast +I arranged for the hall for Monday morning." + +While Polly was speaking Maggie opened her eyes and mouth wider and +wider and when the young lady read aloud from her tablets she could not +suppress an expostulatory "oh!" + +"Monday--kitchen breakfast," read Polly--"Bacon, eggs, marmalade, +sardines. Hot coffee, fresh rolls, if possible." + +"My word, but that is wasteful," said Maggie. + +Polly's cheeks flushed. She glanced at her small handmaid, raised her +hand in a reproving manner, and continued to read-- + +"Dining-room breakfast: Hot scones, baked muffins, eggs and bacon, +deviled kidneys, scrambled eggs, a dish of kippered herrings, marmalade, +honey, jam, tea and coffee. Oh, and chocolate for Firefly." + +"My word, Miss," again exclaimed Maggie. "It's seven o'clock now, and +the Doctor likes his breakfast sharp on the table at eight. If we has to +get all this ready in an hour we had better fly round and lose no more +time. I'll see to the 'all, bless your kind 'eart, Miss Polly, but we'd +better get on with the dining-room breakfast, or there'll be nothing +ready in anything like time. Will you mix up the cakes, Miss Polly, +while I sees to the kidneys, and to the bacon and eggs, and the +scrambled eggs, and the kippers. My word, but there'll be a power more +sent up than can be eaten. But whatever goes wrong we should have the +cakes in the oven, Miss Polly." + +Polly did not altogether approve of Maggie's tone, but time did press; +the kitchen clock already pointed to five minutes past seven; it was +much easier to write out a programme upstairs at one's leisure in the +pleasant morning-room than to carry it out in a hurry, in the hot +kitchen, particularly when one's own knowledge was entirely theoretical, +not practical. Yes, the kitchen was very hot, and time never seemed to +fly so fast. + +"First of all, open the window, Maggie; it is wrong to have rooms so hot +as this," said the young housekeeper, putting on her most authoritative +air. + +"No, Miss, that I mustn't," said Maggie, firmly. "You'd cool down the +oven in less than five minutes. Now, shall I fetch you the flour and +things from the store-room, Miss? Why, dear me, your cheeks has peonyed +up wonderful. You're new to it yet, Miss, but you'll soon take it +quiet-like. Cold bacon is a very nice breakfast for the 'all, Miss, and +cooking butter's all that servants is expected to eat of. Now shall I +fetch you the flour and the roller, and the milk, Miss Polly?" + +"Yes, get them," said Polly. She felt decidedly annoyed and cross. "I +wish you would not talk so much, Maggie," she said, "go and fetch the +materials for the hot cakes." + +"But I don't know yet what I'm to get, Miss. Is it a dripping cake, or +is it a cream cake, or is it a butter-and-egg cake? I'll bring you +things according, Miss Polly, if you'll be so good as to instruct me." + +"Oh dear, oh dear," said Polly, "you make my head go round, when you +mention so many kinds of cake, Maggie. I really thought you knew +something of cooking. I just want _hot cakes_. I don't care what kind +they are; oh, I suppose we had better have the richest to-day. Get the +material for the butter-and-egg cake, Maggie, and do be quick." + +Thus admonished, Maggie did move off with a dubious look on her face in +the direction of the store-room. + +"She don't know nothing, poor dear," she said to herself; "she aims +high--she's eat up with ambition, but she don't know nothing. It's +lucky we in the 'all is to have the cold bacon. _I_ don't know how to +make a butter-and-egg hot cake--oh, my word, a fine scolding Mrs. Power +will give us when she comes back." + +Here Maggie approached the store-room door. Then she uttered a loud and +piercing exclamation and flew back to Polly. + +"She's gone and done us, Miss Polly," she exclaimed. "She's gone and +done us! Cook's off, and the key of the store-room in her pocket. +There's nothing for breakfast, Miss Polly--no eggs, no butter, no +marmalade, no sugar, no nothing." + +Poor Polly's rosy, little face turned white. + +"It can't be true," she said. And she flew down the passage to the +store-room herself. Alas! only to peep through the key-hole, for the +inhospitable door was firmly locked, and nowhere could the key be +discovered. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A--WAS AN APPLE PIE. + + +The first day of Polly's housekeeping was long remembered in the +household. In the first place, the breakfast, though fairly abundant, +was plain. A large piece of cold bacon graced one end of the board, a +brown loaf stood on a trencher in the center, and when Helen took her +place opposite the tea-tray she found herself provided with plenty of +milk and sugar, certainly, and a large tea-pot of strong tea, but the +sugar was brown. No butter, no marmalade, no jams, no hot cakes, graced +the board. The children spoke of the fare as severe, and the Doctor's +dark brown eyes twinkled as he helped his family to abundant slices of +cold bacon. + +"Not a word," he said, in a loud aside to his boys and girls. "I did not +think it was in Polly to be so sensible. Why, we shall get through +indigestion week quite comfortably, if she provides us with plain, +wholesome fare like this." + +Polly took her own place at the table rather late. Her cheeks were still +peonyed, as Maggie expressed it, her eyes were downcast, her spirits +were decidedly low, and she had a very small appetite. + +After breakfast she beat a hasty retreat, and presently the boys rushed +in in great excitement, to announce to Helen and Katie the interesting +fact that Polly was walking across the fields accompanied by Maggie, +each of them laden with a large market-basket. + +"They are almost running, both of them," exclaimed Bunny, "and pretty +Poll is awful cross, for when we wanted to go with her she just turned +round and said we'd have a worse dinner than breakfast if we didn't +leave her alone." + +"We ran away quickly enough after that," continued Bob, "for we didn't +want no more cold-bacon and no-butter meals. We had a nasty breakfast +to-day, hadn't we, Nell? And Poll is a bad housekeeper, isn't she?" + +"Oh, leave her alone, do," said Helen. "She is trying her very best. Run +out and play, boys, and don't worry about the meals." + +The two boys, known in the family as "the scamps," quickly took their +departure, and Katie began to talk in her most grown-up manner to Helen. +Katie was a demure little damsel, she was fond of using long words, and +thought no one in the world like Helen, whom she copied in all +particulars. + +"Poll is too ambitious, and she's sure to fail," she began. But Helen +shut her up. + +"If Polly does fail, you'll be dreadfully sorry, I'm sure, Katie," she +said. "I know I shall be sorry. It will make me quite unhappy, for I +never saw any one take more pains about a thing than Polly has taken +over her housekeeping. Yes, it will be very sad if Polly fails; but I +don't think she will, for she is really a most clever girl. Now, Katie, +will you read your English History lesson aloud?" + +Katie felt crushed. In her heart of hearts she thought even her beloved +Helen a little too lenient. + +"Never mind," she said to herself, "won't Dolly and Mabel have a fine +gossip with me presently over the breakfast Polly gave us this morning." + +Meanwhile the anxious, small housekeeper was making her way as rapidly +as possible in the direction of the village. + +"We haven't a minute to lose, Maggie," she said, as they trudged along. +"Can you remember the list of things I gave you to buy at the grocery +shop? It is such a pity you can't read, Maggie, for if you could I'd +have written them down for you." + +"It wasn't the Board's fault, nor my mother's," answered Maggie, glibly. +"It was all on account of my brain being made to fit on the top of a +sixpence. Yes, Miss, I remembers the list, and I'll go to Watson's and +the butcher's while you runs on to the farm for the butter and eggs." + +"You have got to get ten things," proceeded Polly; "don't forget, ten +things at the grocer's. You had better say the list over to me." + +"All right, Miss Polly, ten; I can tick one off on each finger: white +sugar, coffee, rice, marmalade, strawberry jam, apricot jam, mustard, +pickles--is they mixed or plain, Miss Polly?--raisins, currants. +There, Miss, I has them all as pat as possible." + +"Well, stop a minute," said Polly. "I'm going to unlock my box now. Hold +it for me, Maggie, while I open it. Here, I'm going to take +half-a-sovereign out of the grocery division. You must take this +half-sovereign to Watson's, and pay for the things. I have not an idea +how much they cost, but I expect you'll have a good lot of change to +give me. After that, you are to go on to the butcher's, and buy four +pounds of beef-steak. Here is another half-sovereign that you will have +to pay the butcher out of. Be sure you don't mix the change, Maggie. Pop +the butcher's change into one pocket, and the grocer's change into +another. Now, do you know what we are going to have for dinner?" + +"No, Miss, I'm sure I don't. I expect it'll sound big to begin with, and +end small, same as the breakfast did. Why, Miss Polly, you didn't think +cold bacon good enough for the servants, and yet you set it down in the +end afore your pa." + +Polly looked hard at Maggie. She suddenly began to think her not at all +a nice girl. + +"I was met by adversity," she said. "It is wrong of you to speak to me +in that tone, Maggie; Mrs. Power behaved very badly, and I could not +help myself; but she need not think she is going to beat me, and +whatever I suffer, I scorn to complain. To-night, after every one is in +bed, I am going to make lots of pies and tarts, and cakes, and +cheesecakes. You will have to help me; but we will talk of that +by-and-by. Now, I want to speak about the dinner. It must be simple +to-day. We will have a beef-steak pudding and pancakes. Do you know how +to toss pancakes, Maggie?" + +"Oh, lor', Miss," said Maggie, "I did always love to see mother at it. +She used to toss 'em real beautiful, and I'm sure I could too. That's a +very nice dinner, Miss, 'olesome and good, and you'll let me toss the +pancakes, won't you, Miss Polly?" + +"Well, you may try, Maggie. But here we are at the village. Now, please, +go as quickly as possible to Watson's, and the butcher's, and meet me at +this stile in a quarter of an hour. Be very careful of the change, +Maggie, and be sure you put the butcher's in one pocket and the grocer's +in another. Don't mix them--everything depends on your not mixing them, +Maggie." + +The two girls parted, each going quickly in opposite directions. Polly +had a successful time at the farm, and when she once again reached the +turnstile her basket contained two dozen new-laid eggs, two or three +pounds of delicious fresh butter, and a small jug of cream. The farmer's +wife, Mrs. White, had been very pleased to see her, and had complimented +her on her discernment in choosing the butter and eggs. Her spirits were +now once again excellent, and she began to forget the sore injury Mrs. +Power had done her by locking the store-room door. + +"It's all lovely," she said to herself; "it's all turning out as +pleasant as possible. The breakfast was nothing, they'd have forgotten +the best breakfast by now, and they'll have such a nice dinner. I can +easily make a fruit tart for father, as well as the pancakes, and won't +he enjoy Mrs. White's nice cream? It was very good of her to give it to +me; and it was very cheap, too--only eighteenpence. But, dear me, dear +me, how I wish Maggie would come!" + +There was no sign, however, of any stout, unwieldy young person walking +down the narrow path which led to the stile. Strain her eyes as she +would, Polly could not see any sign of Maggie approaching. She waited +for another five minutes, and then decided to go home without her. + +"For she may have gone round by the road," she said to herself, +"although it was very naughty of her if she did so, for I told her to be +sure to meet me at the turnstile. Still I can't wait for her any longer, +for I must pick the fruit for my tart, and I ought to see that Alice is +doing what I told her about the new curtains." + +Off trotted Polly with her heavy basket once again across the fields. It +was a glorious September day, and the soft air fanned her cheeks and +raised her already excited spirits. She felt more cheerful than she had +done since her mother died, and many brilliant visions of hope filled +her ambitious little head. Yes, father would see that he was right in +trusting her; Nell would discover that there was no one so clever as +Polly; Mrs. Power would cease to defy her; Alice would obey her +cheerfully; in short, she would be the mainstay and prop of her family. + +On her way through the kitchen-garden Polly picked up a number of fallen +apples, and then she went quickly into the house, to be met on the +threshold by Firefly. + +"Oh, Poll Parrot, may I come down with you to the kitchen? I'd love to +see you getting the dinner ready, and I could help, indeed I could. The +others are all so cross; that is, all except Nell. Katie _is_ in a +temper, and so are Dolly and Mabel; but I stood up for you, Poll Parrot, +for I said you didn't mean to give us the very nastiest breakfast in the +world. I said it was just because you weren't experienced enough to know +any better--that's what I said, Poll." + +"Well, you made a great mistake then," said Polly. "Not experienced, +indeed! as if I didn't know what a good breakfast was like. I had a +misfortune; a dark deed was done, and I was the victim, but I scorn to +complain, I let you all think as you like. No, you can't come to the +kitchen with me, Firefly; it isn't a fit place for children. Run away +now, _do_." + +Poor Fly's small face grew longing and pathetic, but Polly was obdurate. + +"I can't have children about," she said to herself, and soon she was +busy peeling her apples and preparing her crust for the pie. She +succeeded fairly well, although the water with which she mixed her dough +would run all over the board, and her nice fresh butter stuck in the +most provoking way to the rolling-pin. Still, the pie was made, after a +fashion, and Polly felt very happy, as she amused herself cutting out +little ornamental leaves from what remained of her pastry to decorate +it. It was a good-sized tart, and when she had crowned it with a wreath +of laurel leaves she thought she had never seen anything so handsome and +appetizing. Alas, however, for poor Polly, the making of this pie was +her one and only triumph. + +The morning had gone very fast, while she was walking to the village +securing her purchases, and coming home again. She was startled when she +looked at the kitchen clock to find that it pointed to a quarter past +twelve. At the same time she discovered that the kitchen fire was nearly +out, and that the oven was cold. Father always liked the early dinner to +be on the table sharp at one o'clock; it would never, never do for +Polly's first dinner to be late. She must not wait any longer for that +naughty Maggie; she must put coals on the fire herself, and wash the +potatoes, and set them on to boil. + +This was scarcely the work of an ordinary lady-like housekeeper; but +Polly tried to fancy she was in Canada, or in even one of the less +civilized settlements, where ladies put their hands to anything, and +were all the better for it. + +She had a great hunt to find the potatoes, and when she had washed +them--which it must be owned she did not do at all well--she had +still greater difficulty in selecting a pot which would hold them. She +found one at last, and with some difficulty placed it on the +kitchen-range. She had built up her fire with some skill, but was +dismayed to find that, try as she would, she could get no heat into the +oven. The fact was, she had not the least idea how to direct the draught +in the right direction; and although the fire burned fiercely, and the +potatoes soon began to bubble and smoke, the oven, which was to cook +poor Polly's tart, remained cold and irresponsive. + +Well, cold as it was, she would put her pie in, for time was flying as +surely it had never flown before and it was dreadful to think that there +would be nothing at all for dinner but potatoes. + +Oh, why did not that wicked Maggie come! Really Polly did not know that +any one could be quite so depraved and heartless as Maggie was turning +out. She danced about the kitchen in her impatience, and began to think +she understood something of the wickedness of those cities described in +the Bible, which were destroyed by fire on account of their sins, and +also of the state of the world before the Flood came. + +"They were all like Maggie," she said to herself. "I really never heard +of any one before who was quite so hopelessly bad as Maggie." + +The kitchen clock pointed to the half hour, and even to twenty minutes +to one. It was hopeless to think of pancakes now--equally hopeless to +consider the possibilities of a beef-steak pudding. They would be very +lucky if they had steak in any form. Still, if Maggie came at once that +might be managed, and nice potatoes, beef-steak, apple-tart and cream +would be better than no dinner at all. + +Just at this moment, when Polly's feelings were almost reduced to +despair, she was startled by a queer sound, which gradually came nearer +and nearer. It was the sound of some one sobbing, and not only sobbing, +but crying aloud with great violence. The kitchen door was suddenly +burst open, and dishevelled, tear-stained, red-faced Maggie rushed in, +and threw herself on her knees at Polly's feet. + +"I has gone and done it, Miss Polly," she exclaimed. "I was +distraught-like, and my poor little bit of a brain seemed to give way +all of a sudden. Mother's in a heap of trouble, Miss Polly. I went round +to see her, for it was quite a short cut to Watson's, round by mother's, +and mother she were in an awful fixing. She hadn't nothing for the rent, +Miss Polly, 'cause the fruit was blighted this year; and the landlord +wouldn't give her no more grace, 'cause his head is big and his heart is +small, same as 'tis other way with me, Miss Polly, and the bailiffs was +going to seize mother's little bits of furniture, and mother she was +most wild. So my head it seemed to go, Miss Polly, and I clutched hold +of the half-sovereign in the butcher's pocket, and the half-sovereign in +the grocer's pocket, and I said to mother, 'Miss Polly'll give 'em to +you, 'cause it's a big heart as Miss Polly has got. They was meant for +the family dinner, but what's dinner compared to your feelings.' So +mother she borrowed of the money, Miss Polly, and I hasn't brought home +nothink; I hasn't, truly, miss." + +Maggie's narrative was interspersed with very loud sobs, and fierce +catches of her breath, and her small eyes were almost sunken out of +sight. + +"Oh, I know you're mad with me," she said, in conclusion. "But what's +dinner compared with mother's feelings. Oh, Miss Polly, don't look at me +like that!" + +"Get up," said Polly, severely. "You are just like the people before the +Flood; I understand about them at last. I cannot speak to you now, for +we have not a moment to lose. Can you make the oven hot? There are only +potatoes for dinner, unless the apple tart can be got ready in time." + +"Oh, lor'! Miss Polly, I'll soon set that going--why, you has the wrong +flue out, Miss. See now, the heat's going round it lovely. Oh, what an +elegant pie you has turned out, Miss Polly! Why, it's quite wonderful! +You has a gift in the cookery line, Miss. Oh, darling Miss Polly, don't +you be a-naming of me after them Flooders; it's awful to think I'm like +one of they. It's all on account of mother, Miss Polly. It would have +gone to your heart, Miss Polly, if you seen mother a-looking at the +eight-day clock and thinking of parting from it. Her tears made channels +on her cheeks, Miss Polly, and it was 'eart-piercing to view her. Oh, do +take back them words, Miss Polly. Don't say as I'm a Flooder." + +Polly certainly had a soft heart, and although nothing could have +mortified her more than the present state of affairs, she made up her +mind to screen Maggie, and to be as little severe to her as she could. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +POTATOES--MINUS POINT. + + +Dr. Maybright had reason again to congratulate himself when he sat down +to a humble dinner of boiled potatoes. + +"If this regimen continues for a week," he said, under his breath, "we +must really resort to tonics. I perceive I did Polly a gross injustice. +She does not mean to make us ill with rich living." + +The doctor ate his potatoes with extreme cheerfulness, remarking as he +did so on their nutritive qualities, and explaining to his discontented +family how many people lived on these excellent roots. "The only thing +we want," he said, "is a red herring; we might then have that most +celebrated of all Irish dishes--'potatoes and point.'" + +"Do tell us what that is, father," said Helen, who was anxious to draw +the direful glances of the rest of the family from poor Polly. + +"'Potatoes and point,'" said Dr. Maybright, raising his head for a +moment, while a droll glance filled his eye, "is a simple but economical +form of diet. The herring is hung by a string over the center of the +board, and each person before he eats his potato points it at the +herring; by so doing a subtle flavor of herring is supposed to be +imparted to the potato. The herring lasts for some time, so the diet is +really a cheap one. Poll, dear, what is the matter? I never saw these +excellent apples of the earth better cooked." + +Polly was silent; her blushing cheeks alone betrayed her. She was +determined to make a good meal, and was sustained by the consciousness +that she had not betrayed Maggie, and the hope that the apple-tart would +prove excellent. + +It certainly was a noble apple-pie, and the faces of the children quite +cheered up at the sight of it. They were very hungry, and were not +particular as to the quality of the crust. Mrs. White's cream, too, was +delicious, so the second part of Polly's first dinner quite turned out a +success. + +After the meal had come to an end, Helen called her second sister aside. + +"Polly," she said, "I think we ought to speak to father now about the +strangers' coming. Time is going on, and if they come we ought to begin +to prepare for them, and the more I think of it the more sure I am that +they ought to come." + +"All right," said Polly. "Only, is this a good time to speak to father? +For I am quite sure he must be vexed with me." + +"You must not think so, Polly," said Helen, kissing her. "Father has +given you a week to try to do your best in, and he won't say anything +one way or another until the time is up. Come into his study now, for I +know he is there, and we really ought to speak to him." + +Polly's face was still flushed, but the Doctor, who had absolutely +forgotten the simplicity of his late meal, received both the girls with +equal affection. + +"Well, my loves," he said, "can I do anything for you? I am going for a +pleasant drive into the country this afternoon. Would you both like to +come?" + +"I should very much," said Helen; but Polly, with a somewhat important +little sigh, remarked that household matters would keep her at home. + +"Well, my dear, you must please yourself. But can I do anything for +either of you now? You both look full of business." + +"We are, father," said Polly, who was always the impetuous one. "We want +to know if Paul and Virginia may come." + +"My dear, this is the second time you have spoken to me of those +deserted orphans. I don't understand you." + +"It is this, father," explained Helen. "We think the children from +Australia--the children mother was arranging about--might come here +still. We mean that Polly and I would like them to come, and that we +would do our best for them. We think, Polly and I do, that mother, even +though she is not here, would still like the strangers to come." + +"Sit down, Helen," said the Doctor; the harassed look had once again +come across his face, and even Polly noticed the dimness in his eyes. + +"You must not undertake too much, you two," he said. "You are only +children. You are at an age to miss your mother at every turn. We had +arranged to have a boy and girl from Australia to live here, but when +your mother--your mother was taken--I gave up the idea. It was too +late to stop their coming to England, but I think I can provide a +temporary home for them when they get to London. You need not trouble +your head about the strange children, Nell." + +"It is not that," said Polly. "We don't know them yet, so of course we +don't love them, but we wish them to come here, because we wish for +their money. It will be eight pounds a week; just what you spend on the +house, you know, father." + +"What a little economist!" said Dr. Maybright, stretching out his hand +and drawing Polly to him. "Yes, I was to receive £400 a year for the +children, and it would have been a help, certainly it would have been a +help by and by. Still, my dear girls, I don't see how it is to be +managed." + +"But really, father, we are so many that two more make very little +difference," explained Helen. "Polly and I are going to try hard to be +steady and good, and we think it would certainly please mother if you +let the strangers come here, and we tried to make them happy. If you +would meet them, father, and bring them here just at first, we might see +how we got on." + +"I might," said the Doctor in a meditative voice, "and £400 is a good +deal of money. It is not easily earned, and with a large family it is +always wanted. That's what your mother said, and she was very wise. +Still, still, children, I keep forgetting how old you are. In reality +you are, neither of you, grown up; in reality Polly is quite a child, +and you, my wise little Nell, are very little more. I have offended your +aunt, Mrs. Cameron, as it is, and what will she say if I yield to you on +this point? Still, still----" + +"Oh, father, don't mind what that tiresome Aunt Maria says or thinks on +any subject," said Polly. "Why should we mind her, she wasn't mother's +real sister. We scarcely know her at all, and she scarcely knows us. We +don't like her, and we are sure she doesn't like us. Why should she +spoil our lives, and prevent our helping you? For it would help you to +have the strangers here, wouldn't it, father?" + +"By and by it would," answered the Doctor. "By and by it would help me +much." + +Again the troubled expression came to his face and the dimness was +perceptible in his eyes. + +"You will let us try it, father," said Helen. "We can but fail; girls as +young as us have done as much before. I am sure girls as young as we are +have done harder things before, so why should not we try?" + +"I am a foolish old man," said the Doctor. "I suppose I shall be blamed +for this, not that it greatly matters. Well, children, let it be as you +wish. I will go and meet the boy and girl in London, and bring them to +the Hollow. We can have them for a month, and if we fail, children," +added the Doctor, a twinkle of amusement overspreading his face, "we +won't tell any one but ourselves. It is quite possible that in the +future we shall be comparatively poor if we cannot manage to make that +boy and girl from Australia comfortable and happy; but Polly there has +taught us how to economize, for we can always fall back on potatoes and +point." + +"Oh--oh--oh, father," came from Polly's lips. + +"That is unkind, dear father," said Helen. + +But they both hung about his neck and kissed him, and when Dr. Maybright +drove away that afternoon on his usual round of visits, his heart felt +comparatively light, and he owned to himself that those girls of his, +with all their eccentricities, were a great comfort to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +IN THE ATTIC. + + +There is no saying how Polly's week of housekeeping might have ended, +nor how substantial her castle in the air might have grown, had not a +catastrophe occurred to her of a double and complex nature. + +The first day during which Polly and Maggie, between them, catered for +and cooked the family meals, produced a plain diet in the shape of cold +bacon for breakfast, and a dinner of potatoes, minus "point." But on the +Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of that week Maggie quite redeemed her +character of being a Flooder, and worked under Polly with such goodwill +that, as she herself expressed it, her small brains began to grow. +Fortunately, Mrs. Ricketts, Maggie's mother, was not obliged to meet her +rent every day of the week, therefore no more of Polly's four pounds +went in that direction. And Polly read Mrs. Beaton's Cookery-book with +such assiduity, and Maggie carried out her directions with such implicit +zeal and good faith, that really most remarkable meals began to grace +the Doctor's board. Pastry in every imaginable form and guise, cakes of +all descriptions; vegetables, so cooked and so flavored, that their +original taste was completely obliterated; meats cooked in German, +Italian, and American styles; all these things, and many more, graced +the board and speedily vanished. The children became decidedly excited +about the meals, and Polly was cheered and regarded as a sort of queen. +The Doctor sighed, however, and counted the days when Nell and Mrs. +Power should once more peacefully reign in Polly's stead. Nurse asked +severely to have all the nursery medicine bottles replenished. Firefly +looked decidedly pasty, and, after one of Polly's richest plum-cakes, +with three tiers of different colored icings, Bunny was heard crying the +greater part of one night. Still the little cook and housekeeper bravely +pursued her career of glory, and all might have gone well, and Polly +might have worn a chastened halo of well-earned success round her brow +for the remainder of her natural life, but for the catastrophe of which +I am about to speak. + +Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday the family fared richly, and the +household jogged along somehow, but on Friday morning Dr. Maybright +suddenly surprised his girls by telling them that unexpected business +would call him to London immediately. He could not possibly return +before Monday, but he would get a certain Dr. Strong to see after his +patients, and would start for town by the mid-day train. + +The Doctor's portmanteau was quickly packed, and in what seemed a moment +of time after the receipt of the letter he had kissed his family and +bidden them good-by. Then her four younger sisters and the boys came +round Polly with a daring suggestion. + +"Let's sit up late, to-night, and have a real, jolly supper," they +begged. "Let's have it at nine o'clock, up in the large garret over the +front of the house; let it be a big supper, all kinds of good things; +ginger-beer and the rest, and let's invite some people to come and eat +it with us. Do Poll--do Poll, darling." + +"But," said Polly--she was dazzled by this glorious prospect--"I +haven't got a great deal of money," she said, "and Nurse will be very +angry, and Helen won't like it. For you know, children, you two boys and +Firefly, you are never allowed to sit up as late as nine o'clock." + +"But for once, Poll Parrot," exclaimed the three victims; "just for +once. We are sure father would not care, and we can coax Nell to +consent; and Nurse, as to Nurse, she thinks of no one but baby; we won't +choose the garret over baby. Do, do, do say 'yes,' darling Poll." + +"The dearest cook in all the world!" exclaimed Bunny, tossing his cap in +the air. + +"The queen of cake-makers," said Bob, turning head over heels. + +"The darlingest princess of all housekeepers," echoed Firefly, leaping +on her sister, and half-strangling her with a fierce embrace. + +"And we'll all subscribe," said the twins. + +"And it will really be delightfully romantic; something to remember when +you aren't housekeeper," concluded Katie. + +"I'd like it awfully," said Polly, "I don't pretend that I wouldn't, and +I've just found such a recipe for whipped cream. Do you know, girls, I +shouldn't be a bit surprised--I really shouldn't--if I turned out some +meringues made all by myself for supper. The only drawback is the money, +for Mrs. White does charge a lot for cream, and I don't mind owning to +you all, now that you are nice and sympathetic, that the reason you had +only potatoes for dinner on Monday was because Maggie and I met with a +misfortune; it was a money trouble," continued Polly, with an important +air, "and of course children like you cannot understand what money +troubles mean. They are wearing, very, and Maggie says she thinks I'm +beginning to show some crow's feet around my eyes on account of them. +But never mind, I'm not going to cast the shadows of money troubles on +you all, and this thing is not to be spoken of, only it makes me very +short now." + +"But we'll help you, Poll," said all the eager voices. "Let's fetch our +purses and see what we can spare." + +In a twinkling many odd receptacles for holding money made an +appearance, and the children between them found they could muster the +noble sum of six shillings. All this was handed to Polly, who said, +after profound deliberation, that she thought she could make it go +furthest and make most show in the purchase of cream and ginger-beer. + +"I'll scrape the rest together, somehow," she said, in conclusion, "and +Maggie will help me fine. Maggie's a real brick now, and her brains are +growing beautifully." + +But there was another point to be decided--Who were to be invited to +partake of the supper, and was Nurse to be told, and was Helen to be +consulted? + +Certainly Polly would not have ventured to carry out so daring a scheme +without Helen's consent and cooperation, if it had not happened that she +was away for the day. She had taken the opportunity to drive into the +nearest town five miles away with her father, and had arranged to spend +the day there, purchasing several necessary things, and calling on one +or two friends. + +"And it will be much too late to tell Nell when she comes back," voted +all the children. "If she makes a fuss then, and refuses to join, she +will spoil everything. We are bound too, to obey Helen, so we had much +better not give her the chance of saying 'no.' Let us pretend to go to +bed at our usual hour, and say nothing to either Nurse or Helen. We can +tell them to-morrow if we like, and they can only scold us. Yes, that is +the only thing to do, for it would never, never do to have such a jolly +plan spoilt." + +A unanimous vote was therefore carried that the supper in the garret was +to be absolutely secret and confidential, and, naughty as this plan of +carrying out their pleasure was, it must be owned that it largely +enhanced the fun. The next point to consider was, who were to be the +invited guests? There were no boys and girls of the children's own class +in life within an easy distance. + +"Therefore there is no one to ask," exclaimed Katie, in her shortest and +most objectionable manner. + +But here Firefly electrified her family by quoting Scripture. + +"When thou makest a supper," she began. + +All the others rose in a body and fell upon her. But she had started a +happy idea, and in consequence, Mrs. Ricketts' youngest son and +daughter, and the three very naughty and disreputable sons of Mrs. +Jones, the laundress, were invited to partake of the coming feast. + +The rest of the day passed to all appearance very soberly. Helen was +away. The Doctor's carriage neither came nor went; the Doctor himself, +with his kindly voice, and his somewhat brusque, determined manner, +awoke no echoes in the old house. Nurse was far away in the nursery +wing, with the pretty, brown-eyed baby and the children; all the girls +and the little boys were remarkably good. + +To those who are well acquainted with the habits and ways of young +folks, too much goodness is generally a suspicious circumstance. There +is a demure look, there is an instant obedience, there is an absence of +fretfulness, and an abnormal, although subdued, cheerfulness, which +arouses the watchful gaze of the knowing among mothers, governesses, and +nurses. + +Had Nurse been at dinner that day she might have been warned of coming +events by Bunny's excellent behavior; by Bob's rigid refusal to partake +twice of an unwholesome compound, which went by the name of iced +pudding; by Firefly's anxiety to be all that a good and proper little +girl should be. But Nurse, of course, had nothing to say to the family +dinner. Helen was away, the Doctor was nearing the metropolis, and the +little boys' daily governess was not dining with the family. + +These good children had no one to suspect them, and all went smoothly; +in short, the wheels of the house machinery never seemed more admirably +oiled. + +True, had any one listened very closely there might have been heard the +stealthy sound of shoeless feet ascending the rickety step-ladder which +led to the large front garret. Shoeless feet going up and down many, +many times. Trays, too, of precious crockery were carried up, baskets +piled with evergreens and flowers were conveyed thither, the linen +cupboard was ruthlessly rifled for snowy tablecloths and table napkins +of all descriptions. Then later in the day a certain savory smell might +have been perceived by any very suspicious person just along this +special passage and up that dusty old ladder. For hot bread and hot +pastry and hot cakes were being conveyed to the attic, and the sober +twins themselves fetched the cream from the farm, and the ginger beer +from the grocer's. + +No one was about, however, to suspect, or to tell tales if they did +suspect. + +Helen came home about seven o'clock, rather tired, and very much +interested in her purchases, to find a cozy tea awaiting her, and Polly +anxious to serve her. The twin girls were supposed to be learning their +lessons in the school-room, Katie was nowhere to be seen, and Helen +remarked casually that she supposed the young ones had gone to bed. + +"Oh, yes," said Polly, in her quickest manner. + +She turned her back as she spoke, and the blush which mantled her brown +face was partly hidden by her curly dark hair. + +"I am very hungry," said Helen. "Really, Polly, you are turning out an +excellent housekeeper--what a nice tea you have prepared for me. How +delicious these hot cakes are! I never thought, Poll, you would make +such a good cook and manager, and to think of your giving us such +delicious meals on so little money. But you are eating nothing yourself, +love, and how hot your cheeks are!" + +"Cooking is hot work, and takes away the appetite," said Polly. + +She was listening in agony that moment, for over Helen's head certain +stealthy steps were creeping; they were the steps of children, leaving +their snug beds, and gliding as quietly as possible in the direction of +the savory smells and the dusty ladder and the large dirty, +spidery--but oh, how romantic, how fascinating--front attic. Never +before did Polly realize how many creaky boards there were in the house; +oh, surely Helen would observe those steps; but, no, she cracked her egg +tranquilly, and sipped her tea, and talked in her pleasantest way of +Polly's excellent cooking, and of her day's adventures. + +Time was going on; it would soon be eight o'clock. Oh, horrors, why +would the Rickettses and Mrs. Jones's three boys choose the path through +the shrubbery to approach the house! The morning room, where Helen was +taking her tea, looked out on the shrubbery, and although it was now +quite dark in the world of nature, those dreadful rough boys would crack +boughs, and stumble and titter as they walked. Polly's face grew hotter +and her hands colder; never did she bless her sister's rather slow and +unsuspicious nature more than at this moment, for Helen heard no boughs +crack, nor did the stealthy, smothered laughter, so distinctly audible +to poor Polly, reach her ears. + +At ten minutes to eight Helen rose from the table. + +"I'm going up to Nurse to show her what things I have bought for baby," +she said. "We are going to short-coat baby next week, so I have a good +deal to show her, and I won't be down again for a little bit." + +"All right," said Polly, "I have plenty to do; don't worry about me till +you see me, Nell." + +She danced out of the room, and in excellent spirits joined a large and +boisterous party in the front attic. Now, she assured her family and her +guests, all would go well; they were safely housed in a distant and +unused part of the establishment, and might be as merry and as noisy as +they pleased; no one would hear them, no one would miss them, no one +would suspect them. + +And all might have gone according to Polly's programme, and to this day +that glorious feast in the attic might have remained a secret in the +private annals of the house of Maybright, but for that untoward thing +which I am about to tell. + +At that very moment while the Maybrights, the Rickettses, and the +Joneses were having delightful and perfectly untrammeled intercourse +with each other, a very fidgety old lady was approaching the Hollow, +being carefully conducted thither in a rickety fly. A large traveling +trunk was on the box seat of the fly, and inside were two or three +bandboxes, a couple of baskets, a strap bursting with railway rugs, +cloaks, and umbrellas, and last, but not least, a snarling little toy +terrier, who barked and whined, and jumped about, and licked his +mistress's hand. + +"Down, Scorpion," exclaimed Mrs. Cameron; "behave yourself, sir. You +really become more vicious every day. Get in that corner, and don't stir +till I give you leave. Now, then, driver," opening the window and poking +her head out, "when are we getting to Sleepy Hollow? Oh! never, never +have I found myself in a more outlandish place." + +"We be a matter of two miles from there, ma'am," said the man. "You set +easy, and keep yourself quiet, for the beast won't go no faster." + +Mrs. Cameron subsided again into the depths of the musty old fly with a +groan. + +"Outlandish--most outlandish!" she remarked again. "Scorpion, you may +sit in my lap if you like to behave yourself, sir. Well, well, duty +calls me into many queer quarters. Scorpion, if you go on snarling and +growling I shall slap you smartly. Yes, poor Helen; I never showed my +love for her more than when I undertook this journey: never, never. Oh! +how desolate that great moor does look; I trust there are no robbers +about. It's perfectly awful to be in a solitary cab, with anything but a +civil driver, alone on these great moors. Well, well, how could Helen +marry a man like Dr. Maybright, and come to live here? He must be the +oddest person, to judge from the letter he wrote me. I saw at once there +was nothing for me but to make the stupendous effort of coming to see +after things myself. Poor dear Helen! she was a good creature, very +handsome, quite thrown away upon that doctor. I was fond of her; she was +like a child to me long ago. It is my duty to do what I can for her +orphans. Now, Scorpion, what is the matter? You are quite one of the +most vicious little dogs I have ever met. Oh, do be quiet, sir." + +But at that moment the fly drew up with a jolt. The driver deliberately +descended from his seat, and opened the door, whereupon Scorpion, with a +snarl and bound, disappeared into the darkness. + +"He's after a cat," remarked the man, laconically. "This be the Hollow, +ma'am, if you'll have the goodness to get out." + +"Sleepy Hollow," remarked Mrs. Cameron to herself, as she steadily +descended. "Truly I should think so; but I am much mistaken if I don't +wake it up." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +AUNT MARIA. + + +"Ef you please, Miss Helen," said Alice, the neat housemaid, putting in +her head at the nursery door, "there's a lady downstairs, and a heap of +luggage, and the nastiest little dog I ever saw. He has almost killed +the Persian kitten, Miss, and he is snarling and snapping at every one. +See, he took this bit out of my apron, miss. The old lady says as her +name is Mrs. Cameron, and she has come to stay; and she'd be glad if +you'd go down to her immediately, Miss Helen." + +"Aunt Maria!" said Helen, in an aghast voice. "Aunt Maria absolutely +come--and father away! Nursie, I must fly down--you will understand +about those flannels. Oh! I am sorry Aunt Maria has come. What will +Polly say?" + +Helen felt a curious sinking at her heart as she descended the stairs; +but she was a very polite and well-mannered girl, and when she went up +to Mrs. Cameron she said some pretty words of welcome, which were really +not overdone. Mrs. Cameron was a short, stout person; she always wore +black, and her black was always rusty. She stood now in the middle of +the drawing-room, holding Scorpion in her arms, with her bonnet-strings +untied, and her full, round face somewhat flushed. + +"No, my dear, you are not particularly glad to see me," she said, in +answer to Helen's gentle dignified greeting. "I don't expect it, child, +nor look for it; and you need not waste untruths upon me, for I always +see through them. You are not glad to see me, and I am not surprised, +for I assure you I intend to make myself disagreeable. Helen, your +father is a perfect fool. Now, my dear, you need not fire up; you would +say so if you were as old as me, and had received as idiotic an epistle +from him." + +"But I am not as old as you, and he is my father," said Helen, steadily. +"I don't tell untruths, Aunt Maria, and I am glad to see you +because--because you were fond of mother. Will you come into the +dining-room now, and let me get you some tea?" + +Helen's lips were quivering, and her dark blue eyes were slightly +lowered, so that Aunt Maria should not notice the tears that filled +them. The old lady, however, had noticed these signs of emotion, and +brave words always pleased her. + +"You aren't a patch on your mother, child," she said. "But you remind me +of her. Yes, take me to my room first, and then get me a good +substantial meal, for I can tell you I am starving." + +Helen rang the bell. + +"Alice," she said to the parlor maid, who speedily answered the summons, +"will you get the rose room ready as quickly as possible? My aunt, Mrs. +Cameron, will stay here for the night. And please lay supper in the +dining-room. Tell Mrs. Power--oh, I forgot--see and get as nice a +supper as you can, Alice. You had better speak to Miss Polly." + +"Yes, Miss," said Alice. Then she paused, hesitated, colored slightly, +and said, in a dubious manner, "Is it the rose room you mean, Miss +Helen? That's the room Miss Polly is getting ready for Miss Virginy, and +there ain't no curtains to the window nor to the bed at present." + +"Then I won't sleep in that bed," said Mrs. Cameron. "I must have a +four-poster with curtains all round, and plenty of dark drapery to the +windows. My eyes are weak, and I don't intend to have them injured with +the cold morning light off the moor." + +"Oh, Aunt Maria, the mornings aren't very light now," answered Helen. +"They are----" + +But Mrs. Cameron interrupted her. + +"Don't talk nonsense, child. In a decent place like Bath I own the day +may break gradually, but I expect everything contrary to civilized +existence here. The very thought of those awful commons makes me shiver. +Now, have you, or have you not, a four-poster, in which I can sleep?" + +Helen smothered a slight sigh. She turned once again to Alice. + +"Will you get my father's room ready for Mrs. Cameron," she said, "and +then see about supper as quickly as possible? Father is away for a few +days," she added, turning to the good lady. "Please will you come up to +Polly's and my room now to take off your things?" + +"And where is Polly?" said Mrs. Cameron. "And why doesn't she come to +speak to her aunt? There's Kate, too, she must be a well-grown girl by +now, and scarcely gone to bed yet. The rest of the family are, I +presume, asleep; that is, if there's a grain of sense left in the +household." + +"Yes, most of the children are in bed," replied Helen. "You will see +Polly and Katie, and perhaps the twins, later on, but first of all I +want to make you comfortable. You must be very tired; you have had a +long journey." + +"I'm beat out, child, and that's the truth. Here, I'll lay Scorpion down +in the middle of your bed; he has been a great worry to me all day, and +he wants his sleep. He likes to get between the sheets, so if you don't +mind I'll open the bed and let him slip down." + +"If you want me to be truthful, I do mind very much," said Helen. "Oh, +you are putting him into Polly's bed. Well, I suppose he must stay there +for the present." + +Mrs. Cameron was never considered an unamiable person; she was well +spoken of by her friends and relations, for she was rich, and gave away +a great deal of money to various charities and benevolent institutions. +But if ever any one expected her to depart in the smallest particular +from her own way they were vastly mistaken. Whatever her goal, whatever +her faintest desire, she rode roughshod over all prejudices until she +obtained it. Therefore it was that, notwithstanding poor Helen's +protest, Scorpion curled down comfortably between Polly's sheets, and +Mrs. Cameron, well pleased at having won her point, went down to supper. + +Alas, and alas! the supper provided for the good lady was severe in its +simplicity. Alice, blushing and uncomfortable, called Helen out of the +room, and then informed her that neither Polly nor Maggie could be +found, and that there was literally nothing, or next to nothing, in the +larder. + +"But that can't be the case," said Helen, "for there was a large piece +of cold roast beef brought up for my tea, and a great plate of hot +cakes, and an uncut plum cake. Surely, Alice, you must be mistaken." + +"No, Miss, there's nothing downstairs. Not a joint, nor a cake, nor +nothing. If it wasn't that I found some new-laid eggs in the hen-house, +and cut some slices from the uncooked ham, I couldn't have had nothing +at all for supper--and--and----" + +"Tut, tut!" suddenly exclaimed a voice in the dining-room. "What's all +this whispering about? It is very rude of little girls to whisper +outside doors, and not to attend to their aunts when they come a long +way to see them. If you don't come in at once, Miss Helen, and give me +my tea, I shall help myself." + +"Find Polly, then, as quick as you can, Alice," exclaimed poor, +perplexed Helen, "and tell her that Aunt Maria Cameron has come and is +going to stay." + +Alice went away, and Helen, returning to the dining-room, poured out +tea, and cut bread-and-butter, and saw her aunt demolishing with +appetite three new-laid eggs, and two generous slices of fried ham. + +"Your meal was plain; but I am satisfied with it," she said in +conclusion. "I am glad you live frugally, Helen; waste is always sinful, +and in your case peculiarly so. You don't mind my telling you, my dear, +that I think it is a sad extravagance wearing crape every day, but of +course you don't know any better. You are nothing in the world but an +overgrown child. Now that I have come, my dear, I shall put this and +many other matters to rights. Tell me, Helen, how long does your father +intend to be away?" + +"Until Monday, I think, Aunt Maria." + +"Very well; then you and I will begin our reforms to-morrow. I'll take +you round with me, and we'll look into everything. Your father won't +know the house when he comes back. I've got a treasure of a woman in my +eye for him--a Miss Grinsted. She is fifty, and a strict +disciplinarian. She will soon manage matters, and put this house into +something like order. I had a great mind to bring her with me; but I can +send for her. She can be here by Monday or Tuesday. I told her to be in +readiness, and to have her boxes packed. My dear, I wish you would not +poke out your chin so much. How old are you? Oh, sixteen--a very gawky +age. Now then, that I am refreshed and rested, I think that we'll just +go round the house." + +"Will you not wait until to-morrow, Aunt Maria? The children are all +asleep and in bed now, and Nurse never likes them to be disturbed." + +"My dear, Nurse's likes or dislikes are not of the smallest importance +to me. I wish to see the children asleep, so if you will have the +goodness to light a candle, Helen, and lead the way, I will follow." + +Helen, again stifling a sigh, obeyed. She felt full of trepidation and +uneasiness. Why did not Polly come in? Why had all the supper +disappeared? Where were Katie and the twins? How strangely silent the +house was. + +"I will see the baby first," said Mrs. Cameron. "In bed? Well, no +matter, I wish to look at the little dear. Ah, this is the nursery; a +nice, cheerful room, but too much light in it, and no curtains to the +windows. Very bad for the dear baby's eyes. How do you do, Nurse? I have +come to see baby. I am her aunt, her dear mother's sister, Maria +Cameron." + +Nurse curtseyed. + +"Baby is asleep, ma'am," she said. "I have just settled her in her +little crib for the night. She's a good, healthy child, and no trouble +to any one. Yes, ma'am, she has a look of her dear blessed ma. I'll just +hold down the sheet, and you'll see. Please, ma'am, don't hold the light +full in the babe's eyes, you'll wake her." + +"My good woman, I handled babies before you did. I had this child's +mother in my arms when she was a baby. Yes, the infant is well enough; +you're mistaken in there being any likeness to your late mistress in +her. She seems a plain child, but healthy. If you don't watch her sight, +she may get delicate eyes, however. I should recommend curtains being +put up immediately to these windows, and you're only using night-lights +when she sleeps. It is not _I_ that am likely to injure the baby with +too much light. Good evening, Nurse." + +Nurse muttered something, her brow growing black. + +"Now, Helen," continued Mrs. Cameron, "we will visit the other children. +This is the boys' room, I presume. I am fond of boys. What are your +brothers' names, my dear?" + +"We call them Bob and Bunny." + +"Utterly ridiculous! I ask for their baptismal names, not for anything +so silly. Ah! oh--I thought you said they were in bed: these beds are +empty." + +So they were; tossed about, no doubt, but with no occupants, and the +bedclothes no longer warm; so that it could not have been quite lately +that the truants had departed from their nightly places of rest. On +further investigation, Firefly's bed was also found in a sad state of +_déshabillé_, and it was clearly proved, on visiting their apartments, +that the twins and Katie had not gone to bed at all. + +"Then, my dear, where are the family?" said Mrs. Cameron. "You and that +little babe are the only ones I have yet seen. Where is Mary? where is +Katharine? Where are your brothers? My dear Helen, this is awful; your +brothers and sisters are evidently playing midnight pranks. Oh, there is +not a doubt of it, you need not tell me. What a good thing it is that I +came! Oh! my poor dear sister; what a state her orphans have been +reduced to! There is nothing whatever for it but to telegraph for Miss +Grinsted in the morning." + +"But, my dear auntie, I am sure, oh! I am sure you are mistaken," began +poor Helen. "The children are always very well behaved--they are, +indeed they are. They don't play pranks, Aunt Maria." + +"Allow me to use my own eyesight, Helen. The beds are empty--not a +child is to be found. Come, we must search the house!" + +Helen never to her dying day forgot that eerie journey through the +deserted house, accompanied by Aunt Maria. She never forgot the +sickening fear which oppressed her, and the certainty which came over +her that Polly, poor, excitable Polly, was up to some mischief. + +Sleepy Hollow was a large and rambling old place, and it was some time +before the searchers reached the neighborhood of the festive garret. +When they did, however, there was no longer any room for doubt. Wild +laughter, and high-pitched voices singing many favorite nursery airs and +school-room songs made noise enough to reach the ears even of the +deafest. "John Peel" was having a frantic chorus as Helen and her aunt +ascended the step-ladder. + +"For the sound of his horn brought me from my bed, +And the cry of his hounds which he ofttimes led, +Peel's 'View Hulloo!' would awaken the dead, +Or the fox from his lair in the morning." + +"_Very_ nice, indeed," said Aunt Maria, as she burst open the garret +door. "Very nice and respectful to the memory of your dear mother! I am +glad, children, that I have come to create decent order in this +establishment. I am your aunt, Maria Cameron." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +PUNISHMENT. + + +There are occasions when people who are accused wrongfully of a fault +will take it patiently: there was scarcely ever known to be a time when +wrongdoers did so. + +The children in the garret were having a wild time of mirth and +excitement. There was no time for any one to think, no time for any one +to do aught but enjoy. The lateness of the hour, the stealthy gathering, +the excellent supper, and, finally, the gay songs, had roused the young +spirits to the highest pitch. Polly was the life of everything; Maggie, +her devoted satellite, had a face which almost blazed with excitement. + +Her small eyes twinkled like stars, her broad mouth never ceased to show +a double row of snowy teeth. She revolved round her brothers and +sisters, whispering in their ears, violently nudging them, and piling on +the agony in the shape of cups of richly creamed and sugared tea, of +thick slices of bread-and-butter and jam, and plum cake, topped with +bumpers of foaming ginger-beer. + +Repletion had reached such a pass in the case of the Ricketts brother +and sister that they could scarcely move; the Jones brothers were also +becoming slightly heavy-eyed; but the Maybright children fluttered about +here and there like gay butterflies, and were on the point of getting up +a dance when Aunt Maria and the frightened Helen burst upon the scene. + +It required a much less acute glance than Aunt Maria's to point out +Polly as the ringleader. She headed the group of mirth-seekers, every +lip resounded with her name, all the other pairs of young eyes turned to +her. When the garret door was flung open, and Aunt Maria in no measured +tones announced herself, the children flew like frightened chickens to +hide under Polly's wing. The Rickettses and Joneses scrambled to their +feet, and ran to find shelter as close as possible to headquarters. +Thus, when Polly at last found her voice, and turned round to speak to +Aunt Maria, she looked like the flushed and triumphant leader of a +little victorious garrison. She was quite carried away by the excitement +of the whole thing, and defiance spoke both in her eyes and manner. + +"How do you do, Aunt Maria?" she said. "We did not expect you. We were +having supper, and have just finished. I would ask you to have some with +us, only I am afraid there is not a clean plate left. Is there, Maggie?" + +Maggie answered with a high and nervous giggle, "Oh, lor', Miss Polly! +that there ain't; and there's nothing but broken victuals either on the +table by now. We was all hungry, you know, Miss Polly." + +"So perhaps," continued Polly, "you would go downstairs again, Aunt +Maria. Helen, will you take Aunt Maria to the drawing-room? I will come +as soon as I see the supper things put away. Helen, why do you look at +me like that? What's the matter?" + +"Oh, Polly!" said Helen, in her most reproachful tones. + +She was turning away, but Aunt Maria caught her rather roughly by the +shoulder. + +"Do _all_ this numerous party belong to the family?" she said. "I see +here present thirteen children. I never knew before that my sister had +such an enormous family." + +Helen felt in far too great a state of collapse to make any reply; but +Polly's saucy, glib tones were again heard. + +"These are our visitors, Aunt Maria. Allow me to introduce them. Master +and Miss Ricketts, Masters Tom, Jim, and Peter Jones. This is Maggie, my +satellite, and devoted friend, and--and----" + +But Aunt Maria's patience had reached its tether. She was a stout, +heavily made woman, and when she walked into the center of Polly's +garrison she quickly dispersed it. + +"March!" she said, laying her hand heavily on the girl's shoulder. "To +your room this instant. Come, I shall see you there, and lock you in. +You are a very bad, wicked, heartless girl, and I am bitterly ashamed of +you. To your room this minute. While your father is away you are under +my control, and I _insist_ on being obeyed." + +"Oh, lor'!" gasped Maggie. "Run," she whispered to her brother and +sister. "Make for the door, quick. Oh, ain't it awful! Oh, poor dear +Miss Polly! Why, that dreadful old lady will almost kill her." + +But no, Polly was still equal to the emergency. + +"You need not hold me, Aunt Maria," she said, in a quiet voice, "I can +go without that. Good night, children. I am sorry our jolly time has had +such an unpleasant ending. Now then, I'll go with you, Aunt Maria." + +"In front, then," said Aunt Maria. "No loitering behind. Straight to +your room." + +Polly walked down the dusty ladder obediently enough; Aunt Maria, +scarlet in the face, stumped and waddled after her; Helen, very pale, +and feeling half terrified, brought up the rear. All went well, and the +truant exhibited no signs of rebellion until they reached the wide +landing which led in one direction to the girl's bedroom, in the other +to the staircase. + +Here Polly turned at bay. + +"I'm not going to my room at present," she said. "If I've been naughty, +father can punish me when he comes home. You can tell anything you like +to father when he comes back on Monday. But I'm not going to obey you. +You have no authority over me, and I'm not responsible to you. Father +can punish me as much as he likes when you have told him. I'm going +downstairs, now; it's too early for bed. I've not an idea of obeying +you." + +"We will see to that," said Aunt Maria. "You are quite the naughtiest +child I ever came across. Now then, Miss, if you don't go patiently, and +on your own feet, you shall be conveyed to your room in my arms. I am +quite strong enough, so you can choose." + +Polly's eyes flashed. + +"If you put it in that way, I don't want to fuss," she said. "I'll go +there for the present, but you can't keep me there, and you needn't +try." + +Aunt Maria and Polly disappeared round the corner, and poor Helen stood +leaning against the oak balustrade, silently crying. In three or four +minutes Aunt Maria returned, her face still red, and the key of the +bedroom in her pocket. + +"Now, Helen, what is the matter? Crying? Well, no wonder. Of course, you +are ashamed of your sister. I never met such a naughty, impertinent +girl. Can it be possible that Helen should have such a child? She must +take entirely after her father. Now, Helen, stop crying, tears are most +irritating to me, and do no good to any one. I am glad I arrived at this +emergency. Matters have indeed come to a pretty crisis. In your father's +absence, I distinctly declare that I take the rule of my poor sister's +orphans, and I shall myself mete out the punishment for the glaring act +of rebellion that I have just witnessed. Polly remains in her room, and +has a bread and water diet until Monday. The other children have bread +and water for breakfast in the morning, and go to bed two hours before +their usual time to-morrow. The kitchen-maid I shall dismiss in the +morning, giving her a month's wages in lieu of notice. Now, Helen, come +downstairs. Oh, there is just one thing more. You must find some other +room to sleep in to-night. I forbid you to go near your sister. In fact, +I shall not give you the key. You may share my bed, if you like." + +"I cannot do that, Aunt Maria," said Helen. "I respect you, and will +obey you as far as I can until father returns, and tells us what we +really ought to do. But I cannot stay away from Polly to-night for any +one. I know she has been very naughty. I am as shocked as you can be +with all that has happened, but I know too, Aunt Maria, that harsh +treatment will ruin Polly; she won't stand it, she never would, and +mother never tried it with her. She is different from the rest of us, +Aunt Maria; she is wilder, and fiercer, and freer; but mother often +said, oh, often and often, that no one might be nobler than Polly, if +only she was guided right. I know she is troublesome, I know she was +impertinent to you, and I know well she did very wrong, but she is only +fourteen, and she has high spirits. You can't bend, nor drive Polly, +Aunt Maria, but gentleness and love can always lead her. I _must_ sleep +in my own bed to-night, Aunt Maria. Oh, don't refuse me--please give me +up the key." + +"You are a queer girl," said Aunt Maria. "But I believe you are the best +of them, and you certainly remind me of your mother when you speak in +that earnest fashion. Here, take the key, then, but be sure you lock the +door when you go in, and when you come out again in the morning. I trust +to you that that little wild, impertinent sister of yours doesn't +escape--now, remember." + +"While I am there she will not," answered Helen. "Thank you, auntie. You +look very tired yourself, won't you go to bed now?" + +"I will, child. I'm fairly beat out. Such a scene is enough to disturb +the strongest nerves. Only what about the other children? Are they still +carousing in that wicked way in the garret?" + +"No. I am sure they have gone to bed, thoroughly ashamed of themselves. +But I will go and see to them." + +"One thing more, child. Before I go to bed I should like to fill in a +telegraph form to Miss Grinsted. If she gets it the first thing in the +morning she can reach here to-morrow night. Well, Helen, again +objecting; you evidently mean to cross me in everything; now what is the +matter? Why has your face such a piteous look upon it?" + +"Only this, Aunt Maria. Until father returns I am quite willing to obey +you, and I will do my best to make the others good and obedient. But I +do think he would be vexed at your getting Miss Grinsted until you have +spoken to him. Won't you wait until Monday before you telegraph for +her?" + +"I'll sleep on it, anyhow," replied Mrs. Cameron. "Good night, child. +You remind me very much of your mother--not in appearance, but in the +curious way you come round a person, and insist upon having everything +done exactly as you like. Now, my dear, good night. I consider you all +the most demoralized household, but I won't be here long before matters +are on a very different footing." + +The bedroom door really closed upon Aunt Maria, and Helen drew a long +breath. + +Oh, for Monday to arrive! Oh, for any light to guide the perplexed child +in this crisis! But she had no time to think now. She flew to the +garret, to find only the wreck of the feast and one or two candles +flickering in their sockets. She put the candles out, and went next to +the children's bedrooms. Bob and Bunny, with flushed faces, were lying +once more in their cribs, fast asleep. They were dreaming and tossing +about, and Nurse stood over them with a perplexed and grave face. + +"This means nightmare, and physic in the morning," said the worthy +woman. "Now, don't you fret and worry your dear head, Miss Helen, pet. +Oh, yes, I know all about it, and it _was_ a naughty thing to do, only +children will be children. Your aunt needn't expect that her old crabbed +head and ways will fit on young shoulders. You might go to Miss Firefly, +though, for a minute, Miss Helen, for she's crying fit to break her +heart." + +Helen went off at once. Firefly was a very excitable and delicate child. +She found the little creature with her head buried under the clothes, +her whole form shaken with sobs. + +"Lucy, darling," said Helen. + +The seldom-used name aroused the weeping child; she raised her head, and +flung two thin arms so tightly round Helen's neck that she felt half +strangled. + +"Oh, it's so awful, Nell; what will she do to poor Polly! Oh, poor +Polly! Will she half kill her, Nell?" + +"No, Fly--how silly of you to take such an idea into your head. Fly, +dear, stop crying at once--you know you have all been naughty, and +Polly has hurt Aunt Maria, and hurt me, too. You none of you knew Aunt +Maria was coming, but I did not think you would play such a trick on me, +and when father was away, too." + +"It wasn't Polly's fault," said Firefly, eagerly. "She was tempted, and +we were the tempters. We all came round her, and we did coax, so hard, +and Polly gave way, 'cause she wanted to make us happy. She's a darling, +the dearest darling in all the world, and if Aunt Maria hurts her and +she dies, I--I----" + +The little face worked in a paroxysm of grief and agony. + +"Don't, Fly," said Helen. "You are much too tired and excited for me to +talk calmly to you to-night. You have been naughty, darling, and so has +Polly, and real naughtiness is always punished, always, somehow or +another. But you need not be afraid that any real harm will happen to +Polly. I am going to her in a moment or two, so you need not be in the +least anxious. Now fold your hands, Fly, and say 'Our Father.' Say it +slowly after me." + +Firefly's sobs had become much less. She now lay quiet, her little chest +still heaving, but with her eyes open, and fixed with a pathetic longing +on Helen's face. + +"You're nearly as good as mother," she said. "And I love you. But Polly +always, always must come first. Nell, I'll say 'Our Father,' only not +the part about forgiving, for I can't forgive Aunt Maria." + +"My dear child, you are talking in a very silly way. Aunt Maria has done +nothing but her duty, nothing to make you really angry with her. Now, +Fly, it is late, and Polly wants me. Say those dear words, for mother's +sake." + +There was no child at Sleepy Hollow who would not have done anything for +mother's sake, so the prayer was whispered with some fresh gasps of pain +and contrition, and before Helen left the room, little Lucy's pretty +dark eyes were closed, and her small, sallow, excitable face was +tranquil. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +DR. MAYBRIGHT _versus_ SCORPION. + + +Dr. Maybright returned to his home on Monday evening in tolerably good +spirits. He had gone up to London about a money matter which caused him +some anxiety; his fears were, for the present at least, quite lulled to +rest, and he had taken the opportunity of consulting one of the greatest +oculists of the day with regard to his eyesight. The verdict was more +hopeful than the good Doctor had dared to expect. With care, total +blindness might be altogether avoided; at the worst it would not come +for some time. A certain regimen was recommended, overwork was +forbidden, all great anxiety was to be avoided, and then, and +then--Well, at least the blessed light of day might be enjoyed by the +Doctor for years to come. + +"But you must not overwork," said the oculist, "and you must not worry. +You must read very little, and you must avoid chills; for should a cold +attack your eyes now the consequences would be serious." + +On the whole this verdict was favorable, and the Doctor returned to +Sleepy Hollow with a considerable weight lifted from his mind. As the +train bore him homeward through the mellow, ripened country with the +autumn colors glorifying the landscape, and a rich sunlight casting a +glow over everything, his heart felt peaceful. Even with the better part +of him gone away for ever, he could look forward with pleasure to the +greeting of his children, and find much consolation in the love of their +young hearts. + +"After all, there never were girls quite like Helen and Polly," he said +to himself. "They both in their own way take after their mother. Helen +has got that calm which was always so refreshing and restful in her +mother; and that little scapegrace of a Polly inherits a good deal of +her brilliancy. I wonder how the little puss has managed the +housekeeping. By the way, her week is up to-day, and we return to Nell's +and Mrs. Power's steadier regime. Poor Poll, it was shabby of me to +desert the family during the end of Indigestion week, but doubtless +matters have gone fairly well. Nurse has all her medicine bottles +replenished, so that in case of need she knew what to do. Poor Poll, she +really made an excellent cake for my supper the last evening I was at +home." + +The carriage rolled down the avenue, and the Doctor alighted on his own +doorsteps; as he did so he looked round with a pleased and expectant +smile on his face. It was six o'clock, and the evenings were drawing in +quickly; the children might be indoors, but it seemed scarcely probable. +The little Maybrights were not addicted to indoor life, and as a rule +their gay, shrill voices might have been heard echoing all over the old +place long after sunset. Not so this evening; the place was almost too +still; there was no rush of eager steps in the hall, and no clamor of +gay little voices without. + +Dr. Maybright felt a slight chill; he could not account for it. The +carriage turned and rolled away, and he quickly entered the house. + +"Polly, where are you? Nell, Firefly, Bunny," he shouted. + +Still there was no response, unless, indeed, the rustling of a silk +dress in the drawing-room, a somewhat subdued and half-nervous cough, +and the unpleasant yelping of a small dog could have been construed into +one. + +"Have my entire family emigrated? And is Sleepy Hollow let to +strangers?" murmured the Doctor. + +He turned in the direction of the rustle, the cough, and the bark, and +found himself suddenly in the voluminous embrace of his sister-in-law, +Mrs. Cameron. + +"My dear Andrew, I am pleased to see you. You have been in the deep +waters of affliction, and if in my power I would have come to you +sooner. I had rheumatism and a natural antipathy to solitude. Still I +made the effort, although a damper or more lonely spot would be hard to +find. I don't wonder at my poor sister's demise. I got your letter, +Andrew, and it was really in reply to it that I am here. Down, Scorpion; +the dog will be all right in a moment or two, my dear brother, he is +only smelling your trousers." + +"He has a very marked way of doing so," responded the Doctor, "as I +distinctly feel his teeth. Allow me, Maria, to put this little animal +outside the window--a dog's bite given even in play is not the most +desirable acquisition. Well, Maria, your visit astonishes me very much. +Welcome to Sleepy Hollow. Did you arrive to-day? How did you find the +children?" + +"I came here on Friday evening, Andrew. The children are as well as such +poor neglected lambs could be expected to be." + +Dr. Maybright raised his eyebrows very slightly. + +"I was not aware they were neglected," he said. "I am sorry they strike +you so. I also have a little natural antipathy to hearing children +compared to sheep. But where are they? I have been away for four days, +and am in the house five minutes, and not the voice of a child do I +hear? Where is Helen--where is my pretty Poll? Don't they know that +their father has arrived?" + +"I cannot tell you, Andrew. I have been alone myself for the last two or +three hours, but I ordered your tea to be got ready. May I give you +some? Shall we come to the dining room at once? Your family were quite +well three hours ago, so perhaps you and I may have a quiet meal +together before we trouble about them any further. I think I may claim +this little indulgence, as only properly respectful to your wife's +sister, Andrew." + +"Yes, Maria, I will have tea with you," said the Doctor. The pleased, +bright look of anticipation had altogether now left his face; it was +careworn, the brow slightly puckered, and many lines of care and age +showed round the lips. + +"I will just go upstairs and wash my hands," said Dr. Maybright. "Then I +will join you in the dining-room." + +He ran up the low stairs to his own room; it was not only full of Aunt +Maria's possessions, but was guarded by the faithful Scorpion, who had +flown there in disgust, and now again attacked the Doctor's legs. + +"There is a limit," he murmured, "and I reach it when I am bitten by +this toy terrier." + +He lifted Scorpion by his neck, and administered one or two short slaps, +which sent the pampered little animal yelping under the bed; then he +proceeded down the passage in search of some other room where he might +take shelter. + +Alice met him; her eyes glowed, and the color in her face deepened. + +"We are all so glad you are back, sir," she said, with an affectionate +tone in her voice. "And Miss Helen has got the room over the porch +ready, if you'd do with it for a night or two, sir. I've took hot water +there, sir, for I saw the carriage coming up the drive." + +"Thank you, Alice; the porch room will do nicely. By the way, can you +tell me where all the children are?" + +But Alice had disappeared, almost flown down the passage, and the Doctor +had an uncomfortable half suspicion that he heard her sob as she went. + +Dr. Maybright, however, was not a fanciful person--the children, with +the exception of baby, were all probably out. It was certainly rather +contrary to their usual custom to be away when his return was expected, +still, he argued, consistency in children was the last thing to be +expected. He went downstairs, therefore, with an excellent appetite for +whatever meal Mrs. Cameron might have provided for him, and once more in +tolerably good spirits. + +There are some people who habitually, and from a strong sense of duty, +live on the shady side of life. Metaphorically speaking, the sunshine +may almost touch the very path on which they are treading, but they +shrink from and avoid it, having a strong preference for the shade, but +considering themselves martyrs while they live in it. Mrs. Cameron was +one of these people. The circumstances of her life had elected plenty of +sunshine for her; she had a devoted and excellent husband, an abundant +income, and admirable health. It is true she had no children, and it is +also true that she had brought herself by careful cultivation to a state +of chronic ill-temper. Every one now accepted the fact that Mrs. Cameron +neither wished to be happy, nor was happy; and when the Doctor sat down +to tea, and found himself facing her, it was with very somber and +disapproving eyes that she regarded him. + +"Well, Andrew, I must say you look remarkably well. Dear, dear, there is +no constancy in this world, that is, amongst the male sex." + +Here she handed him a cup of tea, and sighed lugubriously. The Doctor +accepted the tea with a slight frown; he was a peaceable man, but as he +said, when chastising Scorpion, "there are limits." + +"If you have no objection, Maria," he said, curtly, "we will leave the +subject of my personal appearance and the moral question which you have +brought forward out of our conversation." + +Then his voice and manner changed; he put on a company smile, and +continued, without any pause, "How is your husband? Is he as great an +antiquary as ever? And do you both continue to like living in Bath?" + +Mrs. Cameron was a strong and determined woman, but she was no match for +the Doctor when he chose to have his own way. For the remainder of the +meal conversation was languid, and decidedly commonplace; once only it +brightened into animation. + +"I wonder where Scorpion can be?" said the good lady; "I want to give +him his cream." + +"I fear he is under punishment," said the Doctor. "If I judge of him +aright, Scorpion is something of a coward, and is not likely to come +into the same room where I am for some time." + +"What do you mean? Surely you have not been cruel to him?" + +"Cruel to be kind. Once again he attempted to eat my legs, and I was +obliged to administer one or two sharp slaps--nothing to hurt; you will +find him under your bed. And now I really must go to look for my +family." + +Dr. Maybright left the room, and Mrs. Cameron sat still, scarlet with +annoyance and indignation. + +"How could Helen have married such a man?" she said to herself. "I never +can get on with him--never. How cowardly it was of him to hurt the +little dog. If it was not for the memory of poor dear Helen I should +leave here by the first train in the morning; but as it is, I will not +stir until I have established Miss Grinsted over this poor, misguided +household. Ah, well! duty is ever hard, but those who know Maria Cameron +are well acquainted with the fact that she never shirked it. Yes, I will +stay; it will be very unpleasant, but I must go through it. What very +abrupt manners the Doctor has! I was just preparing to tell him all +about that wicked Polly when he jumped up and left the room. Now, of +course, he will get a wrong impression of the whole thing, for the other +children all take her part. Very bad manners to jump up from the tea +table like that. And where _is_ Helen?--where are they all? Now that I +come to think of it, I have seen nothing of any one of them since the +early dinner. Well, well, if it were not for poor Helen I should wash my +hands of the whole concern. But whoever suffers, dear little Scorpion +must have his cream." + +Accordingly Mrs. Cameron slowly ascended the stairs, armed with a saucer +and a little jug, and Scorpion forgot the indignities to which he had +been subjected as he lapped up his dainty meal. + +Meanwhile, the Doctor having explored the morning room and the +schoolrooms, having peeped into the conservatory, and even peered with +his rather failing sight into the darkness outside, took two or three +strides upstairs, and found himself in the presence of Nurse and baby. + +"Well, Pearl," he said, taking the little pure white baby into his arms, +looking into its wee face earnestly, and then giving it a kiss, which +was sad, and yet partook of something of the nature of a blessing. + +"Baby goes on well, Nurse," he said, returning the little creature to +the kind woman's arms. Then he looked into her face, and his own +expression changed. + +"What is the matter?" he said, abruptly. "You have been crying. Is +anything wrong? Where have all the children vanished to?" + +"You have had your tea, sir?" said Nurse, her words coming out in jerks, +and accompanied by fresh sobs. "You have had your tea, and is partial +rested, I hope, so it's but right you should know. The entire family, +sir, every blessed one of them, with the exception of the babe, has took +upon themselves to run away." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN? + + +Nurse's news astonished the Doctor very much. He was not a man, however, +to show all he felt. He saw that Nurse was on the verge of hysterics, +and he knew that if he did not take this startling and unpleasant piece +of information in the most matter-of-fact way, he would get nothing out +of her. + +"I hope matters are not as bad as you fear," he said. "Sit down in this +chair, and tell me what has occurred. Don't hurry yourself; a few +moments more or less don't signify. Tell your tale quietly, in your own +way." + +Thus administered, Nurse gasped once or twice, looked up at the Doctor +with eyes which plainly declared "there never was your equal for +blessedness and goodness under the sun," and commenced her story in the +long-winded manner of her class. + +The Doctor heard a garbled account of the supper in the attic, of the +arrival of Mrs. Cameron, of the prompt measures which that good lady +took to crush Polly, of Firefly's grief, of the state of confusion into +which the old house was thrown. She then went on to tell him further +that Polly, having refused to submit or repent in any way, Mrs. Cameron +had insisted on her remaining in her own room, and had at last, +notwithstanding all Helen's entreaties, forbidden her to go near her +sister. The housekeeping keys were taken away from Polly, and Mrs. +Cameron had further taken upon herself to dismiss Maggie. She had sent a +telegram to Mrs. Power, who had returned in triumph to Sleepy Hollow on +Saturday night. + +"Miserable is no word for what this household has been," said Nurse. +"There was Miss Polly--naughty she may have been, dear lamb, but +vicious she ain't--there was Miss Polly shut up in her room, and nobody +allowed to go near her; and Mrs. Cameron poking her nose into this +corner and into that, and ordering _me_ about what I was to do with the +babe; and poor Miss Helen following her about, for all the world like a +ghost herself, so still and quiet and pitiful looking, but like a dear +angel in her efforts to keep the peace; and there was Alice giving +warning, and fit to fly out of the house with rage, and Mrs. Power +coming back, and lording it over us all, more than is proper for a cook +to do. Oh, sir, we has been unhappy! and for the first time we really +knew what we had lost in our blessed mistress, and for the first time +the children, poor darlings, found out what it was to be really +motherless. The meals she'd give 'em, and the way she'd order them--oh, +dear! oh, dear! it makes me shiver to think of it!" + +"Yes, Nurse," interrupted the Doctor. "It was unfortunate Mrs. Cameron +arriving when I was absent. I have come back now, however, and all the +troubles you have just mentioned are, of course, at an end. Still you +have not explained the extraordinary statement you made to me when I +came into the room. Why is it that the children have run away?" + +"I'm a-coming to that, sir; that's, so to speak, the crisis--and all +brought about by Mrs. Cameron. I said that Miss Polly was kept in her +room, and after the first day no one allowed to go near her. Mrs. +Cameron herself would take her up her meals, and take the tray away +again, and very little the poor dear would eat, for I often saw what +come out. It would go to your heart, sir, that it would, for a healthier +appetite than Miss Polly's there ain't in the family. Well, sir, Miss +Helen had a letter from you this morning, saying as how you'd be back by +six o'clock, and after dinner she went up to Miss Polly's door, and I +heard her, for I was walking with baby up and down the passage. It was +beautiful to hear the loving way Miss Helen spoke, Doctor; she was +kneeling down and singing her words through the key-hole. 'Father'll be +home to-night, Polly,' she said--'keep up heart, Poll dear--father'll +be home to-night, and he'll make everything happy again.' Nothing could +have been more tender than Miss Helen's voice, it would have moved +anybody. But there was never a sound nor an answer from inside the room, +and just then Miss Firefly and Master Bunny came rushing up the stairs +as if they were half mad. 'O Nell, come, come quick!' they said, +'there's the step-ladder outside Poll's window, and a bit of rope and +two towels fastened together hanging to the sill, and the window is wide +open!' Miss Helen ran downstairs with a face like a sheet, and by and by +Alice came up and told me the rest. Master Bunny got up on the +step-ladder, and by means of the rope and the bedroom towels managed to +climb on to the window sill, and then he saw there wasn't ever a Miss +Polly at all in the room. Oh, poor dear! he might have broke his own +neck searching for her, but--well, there's a Providence over children, +and no mistake. Miss Polly had run away, that was plain. When Miss Helen +heard it, and knew that it was true, she turned to Alice with her face +like a bit of chalk, and tears in her eyes, and, 'Alice,' she said, 'I'm +going to look for Polly. You can tell Nurse I'll be back when I have +found Polly.' With that she walked down the path as fast as she could, +and every one of the others followed her. Alice watched them getting +over the little turnstile, and down by the broad meadow, then she came +up and let me know. I blamed her for not coming sooner, but--what's the +matter, Doctor?" + +"I am going to find Polly and the others," said Dr. Maybright. "It's a +pity no older person in the house followed them; but so many can +scarcely come to harm. It is Polly I am anxious about--they cannot have +discovered her, or they would be home before now." + +The Doctor left the nursery, ran downstairs, put on his hat, and went +out. As he did so, he heard the dubious, questioning kind of cough which +Mrs. Cameron was so fond of making--this cough was accompanied by +Scorpion's angry snarling little bark. The Doctor prayed inwardly for +patience as he hurried down the avenue in search of his family. He was +absolutely at a loss where to seek them. + +"The broad meadow only leads to the high-road," he said to himself, "and +the high-road has many twists and turns. Surely the children cannot have +ventured on the moor; surely Polly cannot have been mad enough to try to +hide herself there." + +It was a starlight night, and the Doctor walked quickly. + +"I don't know where they are. I must simply let instinct guide me," he +said to himself; and after walking for three quarters of an hour +instinct did direct him to where, seated on a little patch of green turf +at one side of the king's highway, were three solitary and +disreputable-looking little figures. + +"Father!" came convulsively from three little parched throats; there was +a volume in the cry, a tone of rapture, of longing, of pain, which was +almost indescribable. "Father's come back again, it's all right now," +sobbed Firefly, and immediately the boys and the little girl had cuddled +up to him and were kissing him, each boy taking possession of a hand, +and Firefly clasping her arms round his neck. + +"I know all about it, children," explained the Doctor. "But tell me +quickly, where are the others? where is Polly?" + +"Oh, you darling father!" said Firefly, "you darling, you darling! let +me kiss you once again. There, now I'm happy!" + +"But tell me where the others are, dear child." + +"Just a little way off. We did get so tired, and Helen said that Polly +must have gone on the moor, and she said she must and would follow her." + +"We were so tired," said Bunny. + +"And there was a great nail running into my heel," explained Bob. + +"So we sat down here, and tried to pretend we were gipsies," continued +Firefly. "The moon was shining, and that was a little wee bit of +comfort, but we didn't like it much. Father, it isn't much fun being a +gipsy, is it?" + +"No, dear; but go on. How long is it since you parted from the others?" + +"Half an hour; but it's all right. Bunny, you can tell that part." + +Bunny puffed himself out, and tried to speak in his most important +manner. + +"Nell gave me the dog-whistle," he said, "and I was to whistle it if it +was real necessary, not by no means else. I didn't fancy that I was a +gipsy. I thought perhaps I was the driver of a fly, and that when I blew +my whistle Nell would be like another driver coming to me. That's what I +thought," concluded Bunny. But as his metaphors were always extremely +mixed and confusing, no one listened to him. + +"You have a whistle?" said the Doctor. "Give it to me. This is a very +dangerous thing that you have done, children. Now, let me see how far I +can make the sound go. Oh, that thing! I can make a better whistle than +that with my hand." + +He did so, making the moor, on the borders of which they stood, resound +with a long, shrill, powerful blast. Presently faint sounds came back in +answer, and in about a quarter of an hour Helen and her three sisters, +very tired and faint, and loitering in their steps, came slowly into +view. + +Oh, yes; they were all so glad to see father, but they had not seen +Polly; no, not a trace nor sound could be discovered to lead to Polly's +whereabouts. + +"But she must not spend the night alone on the moor," said the Doctor. +"No, that cannot be. Children, you must all go home directly. On your +way past the lodge, Helen, desire Simpkins and George to come with +lanterns to this place. They are to wait for me here, and when they +whistle I will answer them. After they have waited here for half an +hour, and I do not whistle back, they are to begin to search the moor on +their own account. Now go home as fast as you can, my dears. I will +return when I have found Polly, not before." + +The moon was very brilliant that night, and Helen's wistful face, as she +looked full at her father, caused him to bend suddenly and kiss her. +"You are my brave child, Nell. Be the bravest of all by taking the +others home now. Home, children; and to bed at once, remember. No +visiting of the drawing-room for any of you to-night." + +The Doctor smiled, and kissed his hand, and a very disconsolate little +party turned in the direction of Sleepy Hollow. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES. + + +If ever there was a girl whose mind was in a confused and complex state, +that girl was Polly Maybright. Suddenly into her life of sunshine and +ease and petting, into her days of love and indulgence, came the cold +shadow of would-be justice. Polly had done wrong, and a very stern +judge, in the shape of Aunt Maria Cameron, was punishing her. + +Polly had often been naughty in her life; she was an independent, +quick-tempered child; she had determination, and heaps of courage, but +she was always supposed to want ballast. It was the fashion in the house +to be a little more lenient to Polly's misdemeanors than to any one +else's. When a very little child, Nurse had excused ungovernable fits of +rage with the injudicious words, "Poor lamb, she can't help herself!" +The sisters, older or younger, yielded to Polly, partly because of a +certain fascination which she exercised over them, for she was extremely +brilliant and quick of idea, and partly because they did not want her to +get into what they called her tantrums. Father, too, made a pet of her, +and perhaps slightly spoiled her, but during mother's lifetime all this +did not greatly matter, for mother guided the imperious, impetuous, +self-willed child, with the exquisite tact of love. During mother's +lifetime, when Polly was naughty, she quickly became good again; now +matters were very different. + +Mrs. Cameron was a woman who, with excellent qualities, and she had +many, had not a scrap of the "mother-feel" within her. There are women +who never called a child their own who are full of it, but Mrs. Cameron +was not one of these. Her rule with regard to the management of young +people was simple and severe--she saw no difference between one child +and another. "Spare the rod and spoil the child," applied equally in +every case, so now, constituting herself Polly's rightful guardian in +the absence of her father, she made up her mind on no account to spare +the rod. Until Polly humbled herself to the very dust she should go +unforgiven. Solitary confinement was a most safe and admirable method of +correction. Therefore unrepentant Polly remained in her room. + +The effects, as far as the culprit was concerned, were not encouraging. +In the first place she would not acknowledge Mrs. Cameron's right to +interfere in her life; in the next harshness had a very hardening effect +on her. + +It was dull in Polly's room. The naughtiest child cannot cry all the +time, nor sulk when left quite to herself, and although, whenever Mrs. +Cameron appeared on the scene, the sulks and temper both returned in +full force, Polly spent many long and miserable hours perfectly +distracted with the longing to find something to do. The only books in +the room were Helen's little Bible, a copy of "Robinson Crusoe," and the +Dictionary. For obvious reasons Polly did not care to read the Bible at +present. "Robinson Crusoe" she knew already by heart, but found it +slightly amusing trying to make something of the sentences read +backwards. The Dictionary was her final resource, and she managed to +pass many tedious hours working straight through it page after page. She +had got as far as M, and life was becoming insupportable, when about the +middle of the day, on Monday, she was startled by a cautious and +stealthy noise, and also by a shadow falling directly on her page. She +looked up quickly; there was the round and radiant face of Maggie glued +to the outside of the window, while her voice came in, cautious but +piercing, "Open the window quick, Miss Polly, I'm a-falling down." + +Polly flew to the rescue, and in a moment Maggie was standing in the +room. In her delight at seeing a more genial face than Aunt Maria's, +Polly flung her arms round Maggie and kissed her. + +"How good of you to come!" she exclaimed. "And you must not go away +again. Where will you hide when Aunt Maria comes to visit me? Under the +bed, or in this cupboard?" + +"Not in neither place," responded Maggie, who was still gasping and +breathless, and whose brown winsey frock showed a disastrous tear from +hem to waist. + +"Not in neither place," she proceeded, "for I couldn't a-bear it any +longer, and you ain't going to stay in this room no longer, Miss Polly; +I nearly brained myself a-clinging on to the honeysuckle, and the +ivy-roots, but here I be, and now we'll both go down the ladder and run +away." + +"Run away--oh!" said Polly, clasping her hands, and a great flood of +rose-color lighting up her face. + +She ran to the window. The housemaid's step-ladder stood below, but +Polly's window was two or three feet above. + +"We'll manage with a bit of rope and the bedroom towels," said Maggie, +eagerly. "It's nothing at all, getting down--it's what I did was the +danger. Now, be quick, Miss Polly; let's get away while they're at +dinner." + +It did not take an instant for Polly to decide. Between the delights of +roaming the country with Maggie, and the pleasure of continuing to read +through the M's in Webster's Dictionary, there could be little choice. +On the side of liberty and freedom alone could the balance fall. The +bedroom towels were quickly tied on to the old rope, the rope secured +firmly inside the window-sill, and the two girls let themselves swing +lightly on to the step-ladder. They were both agile, and the descent did +not terrify them in the least. When they reached the ground they took +each other's hands, and looked into each other's faces. + +"You might have thought of bringing a hat, Miss Polly." + +"Oh, never mind, Maggie. You do look shabby; your frock is torn right +open." + +"Well, Miss, I got it a-coming to save you. Miss Polly, Mrs. Power's +back in the kitchen. Hadn't we better run? We'll talk afterwards." + +So they did, not meeting any one, for Mrs. Cameron and the children were +all at dinner, and the servants were also in the house. They ran through +the kitchen garden, vaulted over the sunken fence, and found themselves +in the little sheltered green lane, where Polly had lain on her face and +hands and caught the thrushes on the July day when her mother died. She +stood almost in the same spot now, but her mind was in too great a +whirl, and her feelings too excited, to cast back any glances of memory +just then. + +"Well, Maggie," she said, pulling up short, "now, what are your plans? +Where are we going to? Where are we to hide?" + +"Eh?" said Maggie. + +She had evidently come to the end of her resources, and the intelligent +light suddenly left her face. + +"I didn't think o' that," she said: "there's mother's." + +"No, that wouldn't do," interrupted Polly. "Your mother has only two +rooms. I couldn't hide long in her house; and besides, she is poor, I +would not put myself on her for anything. I'll tell you what, Maggie, +we'll go across Peg-Top Moor, and make straight for the old hut by the +belt of fir-trees. You know it, we had a picnic there once, and I made +up a story of hermits living in the hut. Well, you and I will be the +hermits." + +"But what are we to eat?" said Maggie, whose ideas were all practical, +and her appetite capacious. + +Polly's bright eyes, however, were dancing, and her whole face was +radiant. The delight of being a real hermit, and living in a real hut, +far surpassed any desire for food. + +"We'll eat berries from the trees," she said, "and we'll drink water +from the spring. I know there's a spring of delicious water not far from +the hut. Oh! come along, Maggie, do; this is delightful!" + +An old pony, who went in the family by the stately name of Sultan, had +been wont to help the children in their long rambles over the moor. They +were never allowed to wander far alone, and had not made one expedition +since their mother's death. It was really two years since Polly had been +to the hut at the far end of Peg-Top Moor. This moor was particularly +lonely, it was interspersed at intervals with thickets of rank +undergrowth and belts of trees, and was much frequented on that account +by gipsies and other lawless people. Polly, who went last over the moor, +carried the greater part of the way on Sultan's friendly back, had very +little idea how far the distance was. It was September now, but the sun +shone on the heather and fern with great power, and as Polly had no hat +on her head, having refused to take Maggie's from her; she was glad to +take shelter under friendly trees whenever they came across her path. + +At first the little girls walked very quickly, for they were afraid of +being overtaken and brought back; but after a time their steps grew +slow, their movement decidedly languid, and Maggie at least began to +feel that berries from the trees and water from the spring, particularly +when neither was to be found anywhere, was by no means a substantial or +agreeable diet to dwell upon. + +"I don't think I like being a hermit," she began. "I don't know nought +what it means, but I fancy it must be very thinning and running down to +the constitootion." + +Polly looked at her, and burst out laughing. + +"It is," she said, "that's what the life was meant for, to subdue the +flesh in all possible ways; you'll get as thin as a whipping-post, Mag." + +"I don't like it," retorted Maggie. "Maybe we'd best be returning home, +now, Miss Polly." + +Polly's eyes flashed. She caught Maggie by the shoulder. + +"You are a mean girl," she said. "You got me into this scrape, and now +you mean to desert me. I was sitting quietly in my room, reading through +the M's in Webster's Dictionary, and you came and asked me to run away; +it was your doing, Maggie, you know that." + +"Yes, miss! yes, Miss!" + +Maggie began to sob. "But I never, never thought it meant berries and +spring-water; no, that I didn't. Oh, I be so hungry!" + +At this moment all angry recriminations were frozen on the lips of both +little girls, for rising suddenly, almost as it seemed from the ground +at their feet, appeared a gaunt woman of gigantic make. + +"Maybe you'll be hungrier," she said in a menacing voice. "What +business have you to go through Deadman's Copse without leave?" + +Maggie was much too alarmed to make any reply, but Polly, after a moment +or two of startled silence, came boldly to the rescue. + +"Who are you?" she said. "Maggie and I know nothing of Deadman's Copse; +this is a wood, and we are going through it; we have got business on the +other side of Peg-Top-Moor." + +"That's as it may be," replied the woman, "this wood belongs to me and +to my sons, Nathaniel and Patrick, and to our dogs, Cinder and Flinder, +and those what goes through Deadman's Copse must pay toll to me, the +wife of Micah Jones. My husband is dead, and he left the wood to me, and +them as go through it must pay toll." + +The woman's voice was very menacing; she was of enormous size, and going +up to the little girls, attempted to place one of her brawny arms on +Polly's shoulder. But Polly with all her faults possessed a great deal +of courage; her eyes flashed, and she sprang aside from the woman's +touch. + +"You are talking nonsense," she said. "Father has over and over told me +that the moor belongs to the Queen, so this little bit couldn't have +been given to your husband, Micah Jones, and we are just as free to walk +here as you are. Come on, Maggie, we'll be late for our business if we +idle any longer." + +But the woman with a loud and angry word detained her. + +"Highty-tighty!" she said. "Here's spirit for you, and who may your +respected papa be, my dear? He seems to be mighty wise. And the wife of +Micah Jones would much like to know his name." + +"You're a very rude unpleasant woman," said Polly. "Don't hold me, I +won't be touched by you. My father is Dr. Maybright, of Sleepy Hollow, +you must know his name quite well." + +The wife of Micah Jones dropped a supercilious curtsey. + +"Will you tell Dr. Maybright, my pretty little dear," she said, "that in +these parts might is right, and that when the Queen wants Deadman's +Copse, she can come and have a talk with me, and my two sons, and the +dogs, Cinder and Flinder. But, there, what am I idling for with a chit +like you? You and that other girl there have got to pay toll. You have +both of you got to give me your clothes. There's no way out of it, so +you needn't think to try words, nor blarney, nor nothing else with me, I +have a sack dress each for you, and what you have on is mine. That's the +toll, you will have to pay it. My hut is just beyond at the other side +of the wood, my sons are away, but Cinder and Flinder will take care of +you until I come back, at nine o'clock. Here, follow me, we're close to +the hut. No words, or it will be the worse for you. On in front, the two +of you, or you, little Miss," shaking her hand angrily at Polly, "will +know what it means to bandy words with the wife of Micah Jones." + +The woman's face became now very fierce and terrible, and even Polly was +sufficiently impressed to walk quietly before her, clutching hold of +poor terrified Maggie's hand. + +The hut to which the woman took the little girls was the very hermit's +hut to which their own steps had been bent. It was a very dirty place, +consisting of one room, which was now filled with smoke from a fire made +of broken faggots, fir-cones, and withered fern. Two ugly, lean-looking +dogs guarded the entrance to the hut. When they saw the woman coming, +they jumped up and began to bark savagely; poor Maggie began to scream, +and Polly for the first time discovered that there could be a worse +state of things than solitary confinement in her room, with Webster's +Dictionary for company. + +"Sit you there," said the woman, pushing the little girls into the hut. +"I'll be back at nine o'clock. I'm off now on some business of my own. +When I come back I'll take your clothes, and give you a sack each to +wear. Cinder and Flinder will take care of you; they're very savage +dogs, and can bite awful, but they won't touch you if you sit very +quiet, and don't attempt to run away." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +DISTRESSED HEROINES. + + +If ever poor little girls found themselves in a sad plight it was the +two who now huddled close together in the hermit's hut. Even Polly was +thoroughly frightened, and as to Maggie, nothing but the angry growls of +Cinder restrained the violence of her sobs. + +"Oh, ain't a hermit's life awful!" she whispered more than once to her +companion. "Oh! Miss Polly, why did you speak of Peg-Top Moor, and the +hermit's hut, and berries and water?" + +"Don't be silly, Maggie," said Polly, "I did not mention the wife of +Micah Jones, nor these dreadful dogs. This is a misfortune, and we must +bear it as best we can. Have you none of the spirit of a heroine in you, +Maggie; don't you know that in all the story-books, when the heroines +run away, they come to dreadful grief? If we look at it in that light, +and think of ourselves as distressed heroines, it will help us to bear +up. Indeed," continued Polly, "if it wasn't for my having been naughty a +few days ago, and perhaps father coming back to-night, I think I'd enjoy +this--I would really. As it is----" Here the brave little voice broke +off into a decided quaver. The night was falling, the stars were coming +out in the sky, and Polly, standing in the door of the hut, with her arm +thrown protectingly round Maggie's neck, found a great rush of +loneliness come over her. + +During those weary days spent in her bedroom, repentance, even in the +most transient guise, had scarcely come near her. She was too much +oppressed with a sense of injustice done to herself to be sorry about +the feast in the attic. In short, all her time was spent in blaming Aunt +Maria. + +Now with the lonely feeling came a great soreness of heart, and an +intense and painful longing for her mother. Those fits of longing which +came to Polly now and then heralded in, as a rule, a tempest of grief. +Wherever she was she would fling herself on the ground, and give way to +most passionate weeping. Her eyes swam in tears now, she trembled +slightly, but controlled herself. On Maggie's account it would never do +for her to give way. The ugly dogs came up and sniffed at her hands, and +smelt her dress. Maggie screamed when they approached her, but Polly +patted their heads. She was not really afraid of them, neither was she +greatly alarmed at the thought of the wife of Micah Jones. What +oppressed her, and brought that feeling of tightness to her throat, and +that smarting weight of tears to her eyes, were the great multitude of +stars in the dark-blue heavens, and the infinite and grand solitude of +the moors which lay around. + +The night grew darker; poor Maggie, worn out, crouched down on the +ground; Polly, who had now quite made friends with Cinder, sat by +Maggie's side, and when the poor hungry little girl fell asleep, Polly +let her rest her head in her lap. The dogs and the two children were all +collected in the doorway of the hut, and now Polly could look more +calmly up at the stars, and the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. + +It was in this position that, at about a quarter to nine, Dr. Maybright +found her. Some instinct seemed to lead him to Peg-Top Moor--a sudden +recollection brought the hut to his memory, a ringing voice, and gay +laugh came back to him. The laugh was Polly's, the words were hers. "Oh, +if there could be a delightful thing, it would be to live as a hermit in +the hut at the other side of Peg-Top Moor!" + +"The child is there," he said to himself. And when this thought came to +him he felt so sure that it was a true and guiding thought that he +whistled for the men who were to help him in the search, and together +they went to the hut. + +Cinder and Flinder had got accustomed to Polly, whom they rather liked; +Maggie they barely tolerated; but the firm steps of three strangers +approaching the hut caused them to bristle up, to call all their canine +ferocity to their aid, and to bark furiously. + +But all their show of enmity mattered nothing in such a supreme moment +as this to Polly. No dogs, however fierce, should keep her from the arms +of her father. In an instant she was there, cuddling up close to him, +while the men he had brought with him took care of Maggie, and beat off +the angry dogs. + +"Father, there never was any one as naughty as I have been!" + +"My darling, you have found that out?" + +"Yes, yes, yes! and you may punish me just whatever way you like best, +only let me kiss you now. Punish me, but don't be angry." + +"I'm going to take you home," said Doctor, who feared mischief from +Polly's present state of strong excitement. "I expect you have gone +through a fright and have had some punishment. The minute, too, we find +out that we are really naughty, our punishment begins, as well as our +forgiveness. I shall very likely punish you, child, but be satisfied, I +forgive you freely. Now home, and to bed, and no talk of anything +to-night, except a good supper, and a long restful sleep. Come, Polly, +what's the matter? Do you object to be carried?" + +"But not in your arms, father. I am so big and heavy, it will half kill +you." + +"You are tall, but not heavy, you are as light as a reed. Listen! I +forbid you to walk a step. When I am tired there are two men to help me. +Simpkins, will you and George give Maggie a hand, and keep close to us. +Now, we had better all get home as fast as possible." + +It was more than half-past ten that night before Polly and the Doctor +returned to Sleepy Hollow. But what a journey home she had! how +comforting were the arms that supported her, how restful was the +shoulder, on which now and then in an ecstasy to love and repentance, +she laid her tired head! The stars were no longer terrible, far-off, and +lonely, but near and friendly, like the faces of well-known friends. The +moor ceased to be a great, vast, awful solitude, it smelt of heather, +and was alive with the innumerable sounds of happy living +creatures--and best of all, mother herself seemed to come back out of +the infinite, to comfort the heart of the sorrowful child. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +LIMITS. + + +"And _now_, Maria, I want to know what is the meaning of all this," said +the Doctor. + +It was late that night, very late. Polly was in bed, and Helen lay in +her little white bed also close to Polly's side, so close that the +sisters could hold each other's hands. They lay asleep now, breathing +peacefully, and the Doctor, being satisfied that no serious mischief had +happened to any of his family, meant to have it out with his +sister-in-law. + +Mrs. Cameron was a very brave woman, or at least she considered herself +so; it was perfectly natural that people should fear her, she did not +object to a little wholesome awe on the parts of those who looked up to +her and depended on her words of wisdom. To be afraid on her own part +was certainly not her custom, and yet that evening, as she sat alone in +the deserted old drawing-room, and listened to the wind as it rose +fitfully and moaned through the belt of fir-trees that sheltered the +lawn; as she sat there, pretending to knit, but listening all the time +for footsteps which did not come, she did own to a feeling which she +would not describe as fear, but which certainly kept her from going to +bed, and made her feel somewhat uncomfortable. + +It was about eleven o'clock that night when Dr. Maybright entered the +drawing-room. He was a tall man with a slight stoop, and his eyes looked +somewhat short-sighted. To-night, however, he walked in quickly, holding +himself erect. His eyes, too, had lost their peculiar expression of +nearness of vision, and Mrs. Cameron knew at once that she was in for a +bad time. + +"And now, Maria, I want to know what is the meaning of all this," he +said, coming up close to her. + +She was standing, having gathered up her knitting preparatory to +retiring. + +"I don't understand you, Andrew," she answered, in a somewhat +complaining, but also slightly alarmed voice. "I think it is I who have +to ask for an explanation. How is it that I have been left alone this +entire evening? I had much to say to you--I came here on purpose, and +yet you left me to myself all these hours." + +"Sit down, Maria," said the Doctor, more gently. "I can give you as much +time as you can desire now, and as you will be leaving in the morning it +is as well that we should have our talk out to-night." + +Mrs. Cameron's face became now really crimson with anger. + +"You can say words like that to me?" she said--"your wife's sister." + +"My dear wife's half-sister, and until now my very good friend," +retorted the Doctor. "But, however well you have meant it, you have sown +dissension and unhappiness in the midst of a number of motherless +children, and for the present at least, for all parties, I must ask you, +Maria, to return to Bath." + +Mrs. Cameron sank now plump down into her chair. She was too deeply +offended for a moment to speak. Then she said, shortly: + +"I will certainly return, but from this moment I wash my hands of you +all." + +"I hope not," said the Doctor. "I trust another time you will come to me +as my welcome and invited guest. You see, Maria"--here his eyes +twinkled with that sly humor which characterized him--"it was a +mistake--it always is a mistake to take the full reins of government in +any house uninvited." + +"But, Andrew, you were making such a fool of yourself. After that letter +of yours I felt almost hopeless, so for poor Helen's sake I came, at +_great_ personal inconvenience. Your home is most dreary, the +surroundings appalling in their solitude. No wonder Helen died! Andrew, +I thought it but right to do my best for those poor children. I came, +the house was in a state of riot, you have not an idea what Polly's +conduct was. Disrespectful, insolent, impertinent. I consider her an +almost wicked girl." + +"Stop," said the Doctor. "We are not going to discuss Polly. She behaved +badly, I grant. But I think, Maria, when you locked her up in her room, +and forbade Helen to go to her, and treated her without a spark of +affection or a vestige of sympathy; when you kept up this line of +conduct for four long days, you yourself in God's sight were not +blameless. You at least forgot that you, too, were once fourteen, or +perhaps you never were; no, I am sure you never were what that child is +with all her faults--noble." + +"That is enough, Andrew, we will, as you say, not discuss Polly further. +I leave by the first train that can take me away in the morning. You are +a very much mistaking and ill-judging man; you were never worthy to be +Helen's husband, and I bitterly grieve that her children must be brought +up by you. For Helen's sake alone, I must now give you one parting piece +of advice, it is this: When Miss Grinsted comes, treat her with kindness +and consideration. Keep Miss Grinsted in this house at all hazards, and +there may be a chance for your family." + +"Miss Grinsted!" said the Doctor. "Who, and what do you mean?" + +"Andrew, when I introduce you to such a lady I heap coals of fire on +your head. Miss Grinsted alone can bring order out of chaos, peace out +of strife. In short, when she is established here, I shall feel at rest +as far as my dear sister's memory is concerned." + +"Miss Grinsted is not going to be established in this house," said the +Doctor. "But who is she? I never heard of her before." + +"She is the lady-housekeeper and governess whom I have selected for you. +She arrives at mid-day to-morrow." + +"From where?" + +"How queerly you look at me, Andrew. Nobody would suppose you were just +delivered from a load of household care and confusion. Such a treasure, +too, the best of disciplinarians. She is fifty, a little angular, but +capital at breaking in. What is the matter, Andrew?" + +"What is Miss Grinsted's address?" + +"Well, well; really your manners are bearish. She is staying with an +invalid sister at Exeter at present." + +"Will you oblige me with the street and number of the house?" + +"Certainly; but she can scarcely get here before mid-day now. Her trains +are all arranged." + +"The name of the street and number of the house, if you please, Maria." + +"Vere Street, No. 30. But she can't be here before twelve or one +to-morrow, Andrew." + +"She is never to come here. I shall go into the village the first thing +in the morning, and send her a telegram. She is never to come here. +Maria, you made a mistake, you went too far. If you and I are to speak +to each other in the future, don't let it occur again. Good-night; I +will see that you are called in good time in the morning." + +It was useless either to argue or to fight. Dr. Maybright had, as the +children sometimes described it, a shut-up look on his face. No one was +ever yet known to interfere seriously with the Doctor when he wore that +expression, and Aunt Maria, with Scorpion under her arm, hobbled +upstairs, tired, weary, and defeated. + +"I wash my hands of him and his," she muttered; and the unhappy lady +shed some bitter tears of wounded mortification and vanity as she laid +her head on her pillow. + +"I know I was severe with her," murmured the Doctor to himself, "but +there are some women who must be put down with a firm hand. Yes, I can +bear a great deal, but to have Maria Cameron punishing Polly, and +establishing a housekeeper and governess of her own choosing in this +family is beyond my patience. As I said before, there are limits." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +THE HIGH MOUNTAINS. + + +Helen and Polly slept late on the following morning. They were both +awakened simultaneously by Nurse, who, holding baby in her arms, came +briskly into the room. Nurse was immediately followed by Alice, bearing +a tray with an appetizing breakfast for both the little girls. + +"The Doctor says you are neither of you to get up until you have had a +good meal," said Nurse. "And, Miss Polly, he'd like to have a word with +you, darling, in his study about eleven o'clock. Eh, dear, but it's +blessed and comforting to have the dear man home again; the house feels +like itself, and we may breathe now." + +"And it's blessed and comforting to have one we wot of away again," +retorted Alice. "The young ladies will be pleased, won't they, Nurse?" + +"To be sure they will. You needn't look so startled, loveys, either of +you. It's only your aunt and the dog what is well quit of the house. +They're on their road to Bath now, and long may they stay there." + +At this news Helen looked a little puzzled, and not very joyful, but +Polly instantly sat up in bed and spoke in very bright tones. + +"What a darling father is! I'm as hungry as possible. Give me my +breakfast, please, Alice; and oh, Nurse, mightn't baby sit between us +for a little in bed?" + +"You must support her back well with pillows," said Nurse. "And see as +you don't spill any coffee on her white dress. Eh! then, isn't she the +sweetest and prettiest lamb in all the world?" + +The baby, whose little white face had not a tinge of color, and whose +very large velvety brown eyes always wore a gentle, heavenly calm about +them, smiled in a slow way. When she smiled she showed dimples, but she +was a wonderfully grave baby, as though she knew something of the great +loss which had accompanied her birth. + +"She is lovely," said Polly. "It makes me feel good even to look at +her." + +"Then be good, for her sake, darling," said Nurse, suddenly stooping and +kissing the bright, vivacious girl, and then bestowing another and +tenderer kiss on the motherless baby. "She's for all the world like +Peace itself," said Nurse. "There ain't no sort of naughtiness or +crossness in her." + +"Oh, she makes me feel good!" said Polly, hugging the little creature +fondly to her side. + +Two hours later Polly stood with her father's arm round her neck: a +slanting ray of sunlight was falling across the old faded carpet in the +study, and mother's eyes smiled out of their picture at Polly from the +wall. + +"You have been punished enough," said the Doctor. "I have sent for you +now just to say a word or two. You are a very young climber, Polly, but +if this kind of thing is often repeated, you will never make any way." + +"I don't understand you, father." + +The Doctor patted Polly's curly head. + +"Child," he said, "we have all of us to go up mountains, and if you +choose a higher one, with peaks nearer to the sky than others, you have +all the more need for the necessary helps for ascent." + +"Father is always delightful when he is allegorical," Polly had once +said. + +Now she threw back her head, looked full into his dearly-loved face, +clasped his hands tightly in both her own, and said with tears filling +her eyes, "I am glad you are going to teach me through a kind of story, +and I think I know what you mean by my trying to climb the highest +mountain. I always did long to do whatever I did a little better than +any one else." + +"Exactly so, Polly; go on wishing that. Still try to climb the highest +mountain, only take with you humility instead of self-confidence, and +then, child, you will succeed, for you will be very glad to avail +yourself of the necessary helps." + +"The helps? What are they, father? I partly know what you mean, but I am +not sure that I quite know." + +"Oh, yes, you quite know. You have known ever since you knelt at your +mother's knee, and whispered your prayers all the better to God because +she was listening too. But I will explain myself by the commonest of +illustrations. A shepherd wanted to rescue one of his flock from a most +perilous situation. The straying sheep had come to a ledge of rock, from +where it could not move either backwards or forwards. It had climbed up +thousands of feet. How was the shepherd to get it? There was one way. +His friends went by another road to the top of the mountain. From there +they threw down ropes, which he bound firmly round him, and then they +drew him slowly up. He reached the ledge, he rescued the sheep, and it +was saved. He could have done nothing without the ropes. So you, too, +Polly, can do nothing worthy; you can never climb your high mountain +without the aid of that prayer which links you to your Father in heaven. +Do you understand?" + +"Yes, I understand," said Polly; "I see. I won't housekeep any more for +the present, father." + +"You had better not, dear; you have plenty of talent for this, as well +as for anything else you like to undertake, but you lack experience now, +and discretion. It was just all this, and that self-confidence which I +alluded to just now, which got my little girl into all this trouble, and +caused Aunt Maria to think very badly of her. Aunt Maria has gone, so we +will say nothing about her just at present. I may be a foolish old +father, Polly, but I own I have a great desire to keep my children to +myself just now. So I shall give Sleepy Hollow another chance of doing +without a grown-up housekeeper. Your governesses and masters shall come +to teach you as arranged, but Helen must be housekeeper, with Mrs. +Power, who is a very managing person, to help her. Helen, too, must have +a certain amount of authority over you all, with the power to appeal to +me in any emergency. This you must submit to, Polly, and I shall expect +you to do so with a good grace." + +"Yes, father." + +"I have acceded to your wishes in the matter of bringing the Australian +children here for at least six months. So you see you will have a good +deal on your hands; and as I have done so at the express wish of Helen +and yourself, I shall expect you both to take a good deal of +responsibility, and to be in every sense of the word, extra good." + +Polly's eyes danced with pleasure. Then she looked up into her father's +face, and something she saw there caused her to clasp her arms round his +neck, and whisper eagerly and impulsively: + +"Father, dear, what Helen told me is _not_ true--is it?" + +"You mean about my eyes, Polly? So Helen knows, and has spoken about it, +poor girl?" + +"Yes, yes, but it isn't true, it can't be?" + +"Don't tremble, Polly. I am quite willing to tell you how things really +are. I don't wish it to be spoken of, but it is a relief to trust some +one. I saw Sir James Dawson when in town. He is the first oculist in +England. He told me that my sight was in a precarious state, and that if +matters turned out unfavorably it is possible, nay probable, that I may +become quite blind. On the other hand, he gives me a prescription which +he thinks and hopes will avert the danger." + +"What is it? Oh! father, you will surely try it?" + +"If you and the others will help me." + +"But what is it?" + +Dr. Maybright stroked back Polly's curls. + +"Very little anxiety," he said. "As much rest as possible, worries +forbidden, home peace and rest largely insisted upon. Now run away, my +dear. I hear the tramp of my poor people. This is their morning, you +remember." + +Polly kissed her father, and quietly left the room. + +"See if I'm not good after that," she murmured. "Wild horses shouldn't +drag me into naughtiness after what father has just said." + + + + +PART II. + +CHAPTER I. + +A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS. + + +All the young Maybrights, with the exception of the baby, were collected +in the morning-room. It was the middle of October. The summer heat had +long departed, the trees were shedding their leaves fast, the sky had an +appearance of coming wind and showers; the great stretch of moorland +which could be seen best in winter when the oaks and elms were bare, was +distinctly visible. The moor had broad shadows on it, also tracts of +intense light; the bracken was changing from green to brown and yellow +color--brilliant color was everywhere. At this time of year the moors +in many ways looked their best. + +The Maybright children, however, were not thinking of the landscape, or +the fast approach of winter, they were busily engaged chattering and +consulting together. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and they knew +that the time left for them to prepare was short, consequently their +busy fingers worked as well as their tongues. Helen was helping the +twins and the little boys to make up a wreath of enormous dimensions, +and Polly, as usual, was flitting about the room, followed by her +satellite Firefly. As usual, too, Polly was first to remark and quickest +to censure. She looked very much like the old Polly; no outward change +was in the least visible, although now she yielded a kind of obedience +to the most gentle and unexacting of sisters, and although she still +vowed daily to herself, that she, Polly, would certainly climb the +highest mountain, and for father's sake would be the best of all his +children. + +"How slow you are, Nell," she now exclaimed, impatiently; "and look what +a crooked 'E' you have made to the end of 'WELCOME.' Oh, don't be so +slow, boys! Paul and Virginia will be here before we are half ready." + +"They can't come before six o'clock," said Helen. "We have two hours yet +left to work in. Do, dear, pretty Polly, find something else to take up +your time, and let the twins and the boys help me to finish this +wreath." + +"Oh, if you don't want me," said Polly, in a slightly offended voice. +"Come along, Fly, we'll go up and see if Virginia's room is ready, and +then we'll pay a visit to our baby. You and I won't stay where we are +not wanted. Come along." + +Fly trotted off by her elder sister's side, a great light of contentment +filling her big eyes. The two scampered upstairs, saw that a cozy nest +was all ready for the Australian girl, while a smaller room at the other +side of the passage was in equal readiness for the boy. + +"Oh, what darling flowers!" said Firefly, running up to the dressing +table in the principal bedroom, and sniffing at the contents of a dainty +blue jar. "Why, Polly, these buds must be from your own pet tea-rose." + +"Yes," said Polly, in a careless voice, "they are; I picked them for +Virginia this morning. I'd do anything for Virginia. I'm greatly excited +about her coming." + +"You never saw her," said Firefly, in an aggrieved voice. "You wouldn't +give me your tea-roses. I don't think it's nice of you to be fonder of +her than you are of me. And Nursie says her name isn't Virginia." + +"Never mind, she's Virginia to me, and the boy is Paul. Why, Fly, what a +jealous little piece you are. Come here, and sit on my lap. Of course +I'm fond of you, Fly, but I'm not excited about you. I know just the +kind of nose you have, and the kind of mouth, and the kind of big, +scarecrow eyes, but you see I don't know anything at all about Virginia, +so I'm making up stories about her, and pictures, all day long. I expect +she's something of a barbarian, both she and her brother, and isn't it +delicious to think of having two real live barbarians in the house?" + +"Yes," said Firefly, in a dubious voice. "I suppose if they are real +barbarians, they won't know a bit how to behave, and we'll have to teach +them. I'll rather like that." + +"Oh, you'll have to be awfully good, Fly, for they'll copy you in every +way; no sulking or sitting crooked, or having untidy hair, or you'll +have a couple of barbarians just doing the very same thing. Now, jump +off my lap, I want to go to Nurse, and you may come with me as a great +treat. I'm going to undress baby. I do it every night; and you may see +how I manage. Nurse says I'm very clever about the way I manage babies." + +"Oh, you're clever about everything," said Fly, with a prolonged, +deep-drawn breath. "Well, Polly, I do hope one thing." + +"Yes?" + +"I do hope that the barbarians will be very, very ugly, for after you've +seen them you won't be curious any more, and after you know them there +won't be any stories to make up, and then you won't love them better +than me." + +"What a silly you are, Fly," responded Polly. + +But she gave her little sister's hand an affectionate squeeze, which +satisfied the hungry and exacting heart of its small owner for the +present. + +Meanwhile the enormous wreath progressed well, and presently took upon +important position over the house doorway. As the daylight was getting +dim, and as it would, in the estimation of the children, be the +cruellest thing possible if the full glories of the wreath were not +visible to the eyes of the strangers when they approached Sleepy Hollow, +lamps were cunningly placed in positions where their full light could +fall on the large "Welcome," which was almost the unaided work of the +twins and their small brothers. + +But now six o'clock was drawing near, and Polly and Firefly joined the +rest of the children in the hall. The whole house was in perfect order; +an excellent supper would be ready at any moment, and there was little +doubt that when the strangers did appear they would receive a most +hearty welcome. + +"Wheels at last!" said Bunny, turning a somersault in the air. + +"Hurrah! Three cheers for the barbarians!" sang out Firefly. + +"I do hope Virginia will be beautiful," whispered Polly, under her +breath. + +Helen went and stood on the doorsteps. Polly suddenly raised a colored +lamp, and waved it above her head. + +"Welcome" smiled down from the enormous wreath, and shone on the +features of each Maybright as the Doctor opened the door of the +carriage, and helped a tall, slender girl, and a little boy in a black +velvet suit, to get out. + +"Our travelers are very hungry, Polly," he said, "and--and--very +tired. Yes, I see you have prepared things nicely for them. But first of +all they must have supper, and after that I shall prescribe bed. +Welcome, my dear children, to Sleepy Hollow! May it be a happy home to +you both." + +"Thank you," said the girl. + +She had a pale face, a quantity of long light hair, and dreamy, sleepy +eyes; the boy, on the contrary, had an alert and watchful expression; he +clung to his sister, and looked in her face when she spoke. + +"Do tell us what you are called," said Polly. "We are all just dying to +know. Oh! I trust, I do trust that you are really Paul and Virginia. How +perfectly lovely it would be if those were your real names." + +The tall girl looked full into Polly's eyes, a strange, sweet, wistful +light filled her own, her words came out musically. + +"I am Flower," she said, "and this is David. I am thirteen years old, +and David is eight. Father sent us away because after mother died there +was no one to take care of us." + +A sigh of intense interest and sympathy fell from the lips of all the +young Maybrights. + +"Come upstairs, Flower; we know quite well how to be sorry for you," +said Helen. + +She took the strange girl's hand, and led her up the broad staircase. + +"I'll stay below," said David. "I'm not the least tired, and my hands +don't want washing. Who's the jolliest here? Couldn't we have a game of +ball? I haven't played ball since I left Ballarat. Flower wouldn't let +me. She said I might when I came here. She spoke about coming here all +the time, and she always wanted to see your mother. She cried the whole +of last night because your mother was dead. Now has nobody got a ball, +and won't the jolliest begin?" + +"I'll play with you, David," said Polly. "Now catch; there! once, twice, +thrice. Aren't you starving? I want my tea, if you don't." + +"Flower said I wasn't to ask for anything to eat now that your mother is +dead," responded David. "She said it wasn't likely we'd stay, but that +while we did I was to be on my good behavior. I hate being on my good +behavior; but Flower's an awful mistress. Yes, of course, I'm starving." + +"Well, come in to tea, then," said Polly, laughing. "Perhaps you will +stay, and anyhow we are glad to have you for a little. Children, please +don't stare so hard." + +"I don't mind," said David. "They may stare if it pleases them; I rather +like it." + +"Like being stared at!" repeated Firefly, whose own sensitive little +nature resented the most transient glance. + +"Yes," responded David, calmly; "it shows that I'm admired; and I know +that I'm a very handsome boy." + +So he was, with dark eyes like a gipsy, and a splendid upright figure +and bearing. Far from being the barbarian of Polly's imagination, he had +some of the airs and graces of a born aristocrat. His calm remarks and +utter coolness astonished the little Maybrights, who rather shrank away +from him, and left him altogether to Polly's patronage. + +At this moment Helen and the young Australian girl came down together. +David instantly trotted up to his sister. + +"She thinks that perhaps we'll stay, Flower," pointing with his finger +at Polly, "and in that case I needn't keep up my company manners, need +I?" + +"But you must behave well, David," responded Flower, "or the English +nation will fancy we are not civilized." + +She smiled in a lovely languid way at her brother, and looked round with +calm indifference at the boys and girls who pressed close to her. + +"Come and have tea," said Helen. + +She placed Flower at her right hand. The Doctor took the head of the +table, and the meal progressed more or less in silence. Flower was too +lazy or too delicate to eat much. David spent all his time in trying to +make Firefly laugh, and in avoiding the Doctor's penetrating glance. The +Maybrights were too astonished at the appearance of their guests to feel +thoroughly at ease. Polly had a sensation of things being somehow rather +flat, and the Doctor wondered much in his inward soul how this new +experiment would work. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +A YOUNG QUEEN. + + +It did not work well as far as Polly was concerned. Whatever she was at +home, whatever her faults and failings, whatever her wild vagaries, or +unreasonable moods, she somehow or other always managed to be first. +First in play, first in naughtiness, first at her lessons, the best +musician, the best artist, the best housekeeper, the best originator of +sports and frolics on all occasions, was Polly Maybright. From this +position, however, she was suddenly dethroned. It was quite impossible +for Polly to be first when Flower was in the room. + +Flower Dalrymple had the ways and manners of a young queen. She was +imperious, often ungracious, seldom obliging, but she had a knack of +getting people to think first of her, of saying the sort of things which +drew attention, and of putting every other little girl with whom she +came into contact completely in the shade. + +In reality, Polly was a prettier girl than Flower. Her eyes were +brighter, her features more regular. But just as much in reality Polly +could not hold a candle to Flower, for she had a sort of a languorous, +slumberous, grace, which exactly suited her name; there was a kind of +etherealness about her, an absolutely out-of-the-common look, which made +people glance at her again and again, each time to discover how very +lovely she was. + +Flower was a perfect contrast to David, being as fair as he was dark. +Her face had a delicate, creamy shade, her eyes were large and light +blue, the lashes and eyebrows being only a shade or two darker than her +long, straight rather dull-looking, yellow hair. She always wore her +hair straight down her back; she was very willowy and pliant in figure, +and had something of the grace and coloring of a daffodil. + +Flower had not been a week in the Maybright family before she contrived +that all the arrangements in the house should be more or less altered to +suit her convenience. She made no apparent complaint, and never put her +wishes into words, still she contrived to have things done to please +her. For instance, long before that week was out, Polly found herself +deprived of the seat she had always occupied at meals by her father's +side. Flower liked to sit near the Doctor, therefore she did so; she +liked to slip her hand into his between the courses, and to look into +his face with her wide-open, pathetic, sweet eyes. Flower could not +touch coffee at breakfast, therefore by common consent the whole family +adopted tea. In the morning-room Flower established herself in mother's +deep arm-chair, hitherto consecrated by all rights and usages to Helen. +As to Polly, she was simply dethroned from her pedestal, her wittiest +remarks fell flat, her raciest stories were received with languid +interest. What were they compared to the thrilling adventures which the +young Australian could tell when she pleased! Not, indeed, that Flower +often pleased, she was not given to many words, her nature was +thoroughly indolent and selfish, and only for one person would she ever +really rouse and exert herself. This person was David; he worshipped +her, and she loved him as deeply as it was in her nature to love any +one. To all appearance, however, it mattered very little who, or how +Flower loved. On all hands, every one fell in love with her. Even Polly +resigned her favorite seat for her, even Helen looked without pain at +mother's beloved chair when Flower's lissome figure filled it. The +younger children were forever offering flowers and fruit at her shrine. +Nurse declared her a bonny, winsome thing, and greatest honor of all, +allowed her to play with little Pearl, the baby, for a few minutes, when +the inclination seized her. Before she was a week in the house, not a +servant in the place but would have done anything for her, and even the +Doctor so far succumbed to her charms as to pronounce her a gracious and +lovable creature. + +"Although I can't make her out," he often said to himself, "I have an +odd instinct which tells me that there is the sleeping lioness or the +wild-cat hidden somewhere beneath all that languid, gracious +carelessness. Poor little girl! she has managed to captivate us all, but +I should not be surprised if she turned out more difficult and +troublesome to manage than the whole of my seven daughters put +together." + +As Flower and David had been sent from Australia especially to be under +the care and guidance of Mrs. Maybright, the Doctor felt more and more +uncertain as to the expediency of keeping the children. + +"It is difficult enough to manage a girl like Polly," he said to +himself; "but when another girl comes to the house who is equally +audacious and untamed--for my Polly is an untamed creature when all's +said and done--how is a poor half-blind old doctor like myself to keep +these two turbulent spirits in order? I am dreadfully afraid the +experiment won't work; and yet--and yet £400 a year is sadly needed to +add to the family purse just now." + +The Doctor was pacing up and down his library while he meditated. The +carpet in this part of the room was quite worn from the many times he +walked up and down it. Like many another man, when he was perplexed or +anxious he could not keep still. There came a light tap at the library +door. + +"Come in!" said the Doctor; and to his surprise Flower, looking more +like a tall yellow daffodil than ever, in a soft dress of creamy Indian +silk, opened the door and took a step or two into the room. + +She looked half-shy, half-bold--a word would have sent her flying, or a +word drawn her close to the kind Doctor's side. + +"Come here, my little girl," he said, "and tell me what you want." + +Flower would have hated any one else to speak of her as a little girl, +but she pushed back her hair now, and looked with less hesitation and +more longing at the Doctor. + +"I thought you'd be here--I ventured to come," she said. + +"Yes, yes; there's no venturing in the matter. Take my arm, and walk up +and down with me." + +"May I, really?" + +"Of course you may, puss. Now I'll warrant anything you have walked many +a carpet bare with your own father. See! this is almost in holes; those +are Polly's steps, these are mine." + +"Oh--yes--well, father isn't that sort of man. I'll take your arm if I +may, Doctor. Thank you. I didn't think--I don't exactly know how to say +what I want to say." + +"Take time, my dear child; and it is no matter how you put the words." + +"When I heard that there was no mother here, I did not want to stay +long. That was before I knew you. Now--I came to say it--I do want to +stay, and so does David." + +"But you don't really know me at all, Flower." + +"Perhaps not really; but still enough to want to stay. May I stay?" + +Flower's charming face looked up inquiringly. + +"May I stay?" she repeated, earnestly. "I do wish it!--very much +indeed." + +Dr. Maybright was silent for a moment. + +"I was thinking about this very point when you knocked at the door," he +said, presently. "I was wondering if you two children could stay. I want +to keep you, and yet I own I am rather fearful of the result. You see, +there are so many motherless girls and boys in this house." + +"But we are motherless, too; you should be sorry for us; you should wish +to keep us." + +"I am very sorry for you. I have grown to a certain extent already to +love you. You interest me much; still, I must be just to you and to my +own children. You are not a common, everyday sort of girl, Flower. I +don't wish to flatter you, and I am not going to say whether you are +nice or the reverse. But there is no harm in my telling you that you are +out of the common. It is probable that you may be extremely difficult to +manage, and it is possible that your disposition may--may clash with +those of some of the members of my own household. I don't say that this +will be the case, mind, only it is possible. In that case, what would +you expect me to do?" + +"To keep me," said Flower, boldly, "and, if necessary, send away the +member of the household, for I am a motherless girl, and I have come +from a long way off to be with you." + +"I don't quite think I can do that, Flower. There are many good mothers +in England who would train you and love you, and there are many homes +where you might do better than here. My own children are placed here by +God himself, and I cannot turn them out. Still--what is the matter, my +dear child?" + +"I think you are unjust; I thought you would be so glad when I said I +wanted to stay." + +"So I am glad; and for the present you are here. How long you remain +depends on yourself. I have no intention of sending you away at present. +I earnestly wish to keep you." + +Another tap came to the study door. + +"If you please, sir," said Alice, "blind Mrs. Jones is in the kitchen, +and wants to know most particular if she can see you." + +"How ridiculous!" said Flower, laughing. + +"Show Mrs. Jones in here, Alice," said the Doctor. + +His own face had grown a shade or two paler. + +"Blind people often speak in that way, Flower," he said, with a certain +intonation in his voice which made her regard him earnestly. + +The memory of a rumor which had reached her ears with regard to the +Doctor's own sight flashed before her. She stooped suddenly, and with an +impulsive, passionate gesture kissed his hand. + +Outside the room David was waiting. + +"Well, Flower, well?" he asked, with intense eagerness. + +"I spoke to him," said Flower. "We are here on sufferance, that's all. +He is the dearest man in all the world, but he is actually afraid of +me." + +"You are rather fierce at times, you know, Flower. Did you tell him +about--about----" + +"About what, silly boy?" + +"About the passions. You know, Flower, we agreed that he had better +know." + +A queer steely light came into Flower's blue eyes. + +"I didn't speak of them," she said. "If I said anything of that sort I'd +soon be packed away. I expect he's in an awful fright about that +precious Polly of his." + +"But Polly is nice," interposed David. + +"Oh, yes, just because she has a rather good-looking face you go over to +her side. I'm not at all sure that I like her. Anyhow, I'm not going to +play second fiddle to her. There now, Dave, go and play. We're here on +sufferance, so be on your good behavior. As to me, you need not be the +least uneasy. I wish to remain at Sleepy Hollow, so, of course, the +passions won't come. Go and play, Dave." + +Firefly called across the lawn. David bounded out of the open window, +and Flower went slowly up to her own room. + +There came a lovely day toward the end of October; St. Martin's summer +was abroad, and the children, with the Doctor's permission, had arranged +to take a long expedition across one of the southern moors in search of +late blackberries. They took their dinner with them, and George, the +under-gardener, accompanied the little party for protection. Nurse +elected, as usual, to stay at home with baby, for nothing would induce +her to allow this treasured little mortal out of her own keeping; but +the Doctor promised, if possible, to join the children at Troublous +Times Castle at two o'clock for dinner. This old ruin was at the extreme +corner of one of the great commons, and was a very favorite resort for +picnics, as it still contained the remains of a fine old banqueting-hall, +where in stormy or uncertain weather a certain amount of shelter could +be secured. + +The children started off early, in capital spirits. A light wind was +blowing; the sky was almost cloudless. The tints of late autumn were +still abroad in great glory, and the young faces looked fresh, careless, +and happy. + +Just at the last moment, as they were leaving the house, an idea darted +through Polly's brain. + +"Let's have Maggie," she said. "I'll go round by the village and fetch +her. She would enjoy coming with us so much, and it would take off her +terror of the moor. Do you know, Helen, she is such a silly thing that +she has been quite in a state of alarm ever since the day we went to the +hermit's hut. I won't be a moment running to fetch Mag; do let's have +her. Firefly, you can come with me." + +Maggie, who now resided with her mother, not having yet found another +situation--for Mrs. Power had absolutely declined to have her back in +the kitchen--was a favorite with all the children. They were pleased +with Polly's proposal, and a chorus of "Yes, by all means, let's have +Maggie!" rose in the air. + +Flower was standing a little apart; she wore a dark green close-fitting +cloth dress; on her graceful golden head was a small green velvet cap. +She was picking a late rose to pieces, and waiting for the others with a +look of languid indifference on her face. Now she roused herself, and +asked in a slightly weary voice: + +"Who is Maggie?" + +"Maggie?" responded Helen, "she was our kitchen-maid; we are all very +fond of her--Polly especially." + +"Fond of a kitchen-maid? I don't suppose you mean that, Helen," said +Flower. "A kitchen-maid's only a servant." + +"I certainly mean it," said Helen, with a little warmth. "I am more or +less fond of all our servants, and Maggie used to be a special +favorite." + +"How extraordinary!" said Flower. "The English nation have very queer +and plebeian ways about them; it's very plebeian to take the least +notice of servants, except to order them to obey you." + +"On the contrary," retorted Polly; "it's the sign of a true lady or +gentleman to be perfectly courteous to their dependents, and if they +deserve love, to give it to them. I'm fond of Maggie; she's a good +little girl, and she shall come to our picnic. Come along, Firefly." + +"I certainly will have nothing to say to Polly while she associates with +a servant," said Flower, slowly, and with great apparent calmness. "I +don't suppose we need all wait for her here. She can follow with the +servant when she gets her. I suppose Polly's whims are not to upset the +whole party." + +"Polly will very likely catch us up at the cross-roads," said Helen, in +a pleasant voice. "Come, Flower, you won't really be troubled with poor +little Maggie; she will spend her day probably with George, and will +help him to wash up our dinner-things after we have eaten. Come, don't +be vexed, Flower." + +"_I_ vexed!" said Flower. "You are quite mistaken. I don't intend to +have anything to say to Polly while she chooses a kitchen-maid for her +friend, but I dare say the rest of you can entertain me. Now, Mabel and +Dolly, shall I tell you what we did that dark night when David and I +stole out through the pantry window?" + +"Oh, yes, yes!" exclaimed the twins. The others all clustered round +eagerly. + +Flower had a very distinct voice, and when she roused herself she could +really be eloquent. A daring little adventure which she and her brother +had experienced lost nothing in the telling, and when Polly, Firefly, +and Maggie, joined the group, they found themselves taken very little +notice of, for all the other children, even Helen, were hanging on +Flower's words. + +"Oh, I say, that isn't fair!" exclaimed Polly, whose spirits were +excellent. "You're telling a story, Flower, and Firefly and I have +missed it. Maggie loves stories, too; don't you, Mag? Do begin again, +please, Flower, please do!" + +Flower did not even pretend to hear Polly's words--she walked straight +on, gesticulating a little now and then, now and then raising her hand +in a slightly dramatic manner. Her clear voice floated back to Polly as +she walked forward, the center of an eager, worshipping, entranced +audience. + +Polly's own temper was rather hasty, she felt her face flushing, angry +words were bubbling to her lips, and she would have flown after the +little party who were so utterly ignoring her, if David had not suddenly +slipped back and put his hand on her arm. + +"I know the story," he said; "so I needn't stay to listen. She's adding +to it awfully. We didn't use any ropes, the window is only three feet +from the ground, and the awful howling and barking of the mastiff was +made by the shabbiest little cur. Flower is lovely, but she does dress +up her stories. I love Flower, but I'll walk with you now, if you'll let +me, Polly." + +"You're very kind, David," said Polly. "But I don't know that I want any +one to walk with me, except Maggie. I think Flower was very rude just +now. Oh, you can stay if you like, David--I don't mind, one way or +another. Isn't this south moor lovely, Maggie? Aren't you glad I asked +you to come with us?" + +"Well, yes, Miss, I be. It was good-natured of you, Miss Polly, only if +there's stories a-going, I'd like to be in at them. I does love +narrations of outlandish places, Miss. Oh, my word, and is that the +little foreign gentleman? It is a disappointment as I can't 'ear what +the young lady's a-telling of." + +"Well, Maggie, you needn't be discontented. _I_ am not hearing this +wonderful story, either. David, what are you nudging me for?" + +"Send her to walk with George," whispered David. "I want to say +something to you so badly, Polly." + +Polly frowned. She did not feel particularly inclined to oblige any one +just now, but David had a pleading way of his own; he squeezed her arm +affectionately, and looked into her face with a world of beseeching in +his big black eyes. After all it was no very difficult matter to get at +Polly's warm heart. She looked over her shoulder. + +"George, will you give Maggie a seat beside you," she said. "No, none of +the rest of us want to drive. Come on, David. Now, David, what is it?" + +"It's about Flower," said David. "She--she--you don't none of you know +Flower yet." + +"Oh, I am not sure of that," replied Polly, speaking on purpose in a +very careless tone. "I suppose she's much like other girls. She's rather +pretty, of course, and has nice ways with her. I made stories about you +both, but you're not a bit like anything I thought of. In some ways +you're nicer, in some not so nice. Why, what is the matter, David? What +are you staring at me so hard for?" + +"Because you're all wrong," responded David. "You don't know Flower. +She's not like other girls; not a bit. There were girls at Ballarat, and +she wasn't like them. But no one wondered at that, for they were rough, +and not like real ladies. And there were girls on board the big ship we +came over in, and they weren't rough, but Flower wasn't a bit like them +either. And she's not like any of you, Polly, although I'm sure you are +nice, and Helen is sweet, and Fly is a little brick. Flower is not like +any other girl I have ever seen." + +"She must be an oddity, then," said Polly. "I hate oddities. Do let's +walk a little faster, David." + +"You are wrong again," persisted David, quickening his steps. "An oddity +is some one to laugh at, but no one has ever dreamed of laughing at +Flower. She is just herself, like no one else in the world. No, you +don't any of you know her yet. I suppose you are every one of you +thinking that she's the very nicest and cleverest and perfectest girl +you ever met?" + +"I'm sure we are not," said Polly. "I think, for my part, there has been +a great deal too much fuss made about her. I'm getting tired of her +airs, and I think she was very rude just now." + +"Oh, don't, Polly, you frighten me. I want to tell you something so +badly. Will you treat it as a great, enormous secret? will you never +reveal it, Polly?" + +"What a queer boy you are," said Polly. "No, I won't tell. What's the +mystery?" + +"It's this. Flower is sometimes--sometimes--oh, it's dreadful to have +to tell!--Flower is sometimes not nice." + +Polly's eyes danced. + +"You're a darling, David!" she said. "Of course, that sister of yours is +not perfect. I'd hate her if she was." + +"But it isn't that," said David. "It's so difficult to tell. When Flower +isn't nice, it's not a small thing, it's--oh, she's awful! Polly, I +don't want any of you ever to see Flower in a passion; you'd be +frightened, oh, you would indeed. We were all dreadfully unhappy at +Ballarat when Flower was in a passion, and lately we tried not to get +her into one. That's what I want you to do, Polly; I want you to try; I +want you to see that she is not vexed." + +"I like that," said Polly. "Am I to be on my 'P's and Q's' for this Miss +Flower of yours? Now, David, what do you mean by a great passion? I'm +rather hot myself. Come, you saw me very cross about the lemonade +yesterday; is Flower worse than that? What fun it must be to see her!" + +"Don't!" said David, turning pale. "You wouldn't speak in that way, +Polly, if you knew. What you did yesterday like Flower? Why, I didn't +notice you at all. Flower's passions are--are---- But I can't speak +of them, Polly." + +"Then why did you tell me?" said Polly. "I can't help her getting into +rages, if she's so silly." + +"Oh, yes, you can, and that's why I spoke to you. She's a little vexed +now, about your having brought the--the kitchen-maid here. I know well +she's vexed, because she's extra polite with every one else. That's a +way she has at first. I don't suppose she'll speak to you, Polly; but +oh, Polly, I will love you so much, I'll do anything in all the world +for you, if only you'll send Maggie home!" + +"What are you dreaming of?" said Polly. "Because Flower is an ill +tempered, proud, silly girl, am I to send poor little Maggie away? No, +David, if your sister has a bad temper, she must learn to control it. +She is living in England now, and she must put up with our English ways; +we are always kind to our servants." + +"Then it can't be helped," said David. "You'll remember that I warned +you--you'll be sorry afterwards! Hullo, Flower--yes, Flower, I'm +coming." + +He flew from Polly's side, going boldly over to what the little girl was +now pleased to call the ranks of the enemy. She felt sorry for a moment, +for Firefly had long since deserted her. Then she retraced her steps, +and walked by Maggie's side for the rest of the time. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +NOT LIKE OTHERS. + + +It was still early when the children reached Troublous Times Castle. Dr. +Maybright would not be likely to join them for nearly an hour. They had +walked fast, and Polly, at least, felt both tired and cross. When the +twins ran up to her and assured her with much enthusiasm that they had +never had a more delightful walk, she turned from them with a little +muttered "Pshaw!" Polly's attentions now to Maggie were most marked, and +if this young person were not quite one of the most obtuse in existence, +it is possible she might have felt slightly embarrassed. + +"While we're waiting for father," exclaimed Polly, speaking aloud, and +in that aggressive tone which had not been heard from her lips since the +night of the supper in the attic--"while we're waiting for father we'll +get the banqueting-hall ready. Maggie and I will see to this, but any +one who likes to join us can. We don't require any assistance, but if it +gives pleasure to any of the others to see us unpack the baskets, now is +the time for them to say the word." + +"But, of course, we're all going to get the dinner ready," exclaimed +Dolly and Katie, in voices of consternation. "What a ridiculous way you +are talking, Polly! This is all our affair; half the fun is getting the +dinner ready. Isn't it, Nell?" + +"Yes, of course," said Helen, in her pleasant, bright voice. "We'll all +do as much as we can do to make the banqueting-hall ready for father. +Now, let's get George to take the hampers there at once; and, Flower, I +thought, perhaps, you would help me to touch up the creepers here and +there, they do look so lovely falling over that ruined west window. +Come, Flower, now let's all of us set to work without any more delay." + +"Yes, Flower, and you know you have such a way of making things look +sweet," said David, taking his sister's hand and kissing it. + +She put her arm carelessly round his neck, stooped down, and pressed her +lips to his brow, then said in that light, arch tone, which she had used +all day, "David is mistaken. I can't make things look sweet, and I'm not +coming to the banqueting-hall at present." + +There was a pointed satire in the two last words. Flower's big blue eyes +rested carelessly on Maggie, then they traveled to where Polly stood, +and a fine scorn curled her short, sensitive upper lip. The words she +had used were nothing, but her expressive glance meant a good deal. +Polly refused to see the world of entreaty on David's face--she threw +down her challenge with equal scorn and a good deal of comic dignity. + +"It's a very good thing, then, you're not coming to the banqueting-hall, +Flower," she said. "For we don't want people there who have no taste. I +suppose it's because you are an Australian, for in England even the +cottagers know a little about how to make picnics look pretty. Maggie is +a cottager at present, as she's out of a situation, so it's lucky we've +brought her. Now, as every one else wants to come, let them, and don't +let's waste any more time, or when father comes, we really will have +nothing ready for him to eat." + +"Very well," said Flower. "Then I shall take a walk by myself. I wish to +be by myself. No, David you are not to come with me, I forbid it." + +For a quarter of a second a queer steely light filled her blue eyes. +David shrank from her glance, and followed the rest of the party down a +flight of steps which led also into the old banqueting-hall. + +"You've done it now," he whispered to Polly. "You'll be very, very sorry +by-and-by, and you'll remember then that I warned you." + +"I really think you're the most tiresome boy," said Polly. "You want to +make mysteries out of nothing. I don't see that Flower is particularly +passionate; she's a little bit sarcastic, and she likes to say nasty, +scathing things, but you don't suppose I mind her! She'll soon come to +her senses when she sees that we are none of us petting her, or bowing +down to her. I expect that you and your father have spoiled that Flower +of yours over in Ballarat." + +"You don't know Flower a bit," responded David. "I warned you. You'll +remember that presently. Flower not passionate! Why, she was white with +passion when she went away. Well, you wait and see." + +"I wish you'd stop talking," responded Polly, crossly. "We'll never have +things ready if you chatter so, and try to perplex me. There's poor Fly +almost crying over that big hamper. Please, David, go and help her to +get the knives, and forks, and glasses out, and don't break any glasses, +for we're always fined if we break glasses at picnics." + +David moved away slowly. He was an active little fellow as a rule, but +now there seemed to be a weight over him. The vivaciousness had left his +handsome dark little face; once he turned round and looked at Polly with +a volume of reproach in his eyes. + +She would not meet his eyes, she was bending over her own hamper, and +was laughing and chatting gayly with every one who came within her +reach. The moment Flower's influence was removed Polly became once more +the ringleader of all the fun. Once more she was appealed to, her advice +asked, her directions followed. She could not help admitting to herself +that she liked the change, and for the first time a conscious feeling of +active dislike to Flower took possession of her. What right had this +strange girl to come and take the lead in everything? No, she was +neither very pretty nor very agreeable; she was a conceited, +ill-tempered, proud creature, and it was Polly's duty, of course it was +Polly's duty, to see that she was not humored. Was there anything so +unreasonable and monstrous as her dislike to poor little Maggie? Poor +little harmless Maggie, who had never done her an ill-turn in her life. +Really David had been too absurd when he proposed that Maggie should be +sent home. David was a nice boy enough, but he was not to suppose that +every one was to bow down to his Queen Flower. Ridiculous! let her go +into passions if she liked, she would soon be tamed and brought to her +senses when she had been long enough in England. + +Polly worked herself up into quite a genuine little temper of her own, +as she thought, and she now resolved, simply and solely for the purpose +of teasing Flower, that Maggie should dine with them all, and have a +seat of honor near herself. When she had carelessly thought of her +coming to the picnic, she, of course, like all the others, had intended +that Maggie and George should eat their dinner together after the great +meal was over; and even Helen shook her head now when Polly proposed in +her bright audacious way that Maggie should sit near her, in one of the +best positions, where she could see the light flickering through the +ivy, which nearly covered the beautiful west window. + +"As you like, of course, Polly," responded Helen. "But I do think it is +putting Maggie a little out of her place. Perhaps father won't like it, +and I'm sure Flower won't." + +"I'll ask father myself, when he arrives," answered Polly, choosing to +ignore the latter part of Helen's speech. + +The banqueting-hall, which was a perfect ruin at one end, was still +covered over at the other. And it was in this portion, full of +picturesque half-lights and fascinating dark corners, that the children +had laid out their repast. The west window was more than fifty feet +distant. It was nearly closed in with an exquisite tracery of ivy; but +as plenty of light poured into the ruin from the open sky overhead, this +mattered very little, and but added to the general effect. The whole +little party were very busy, and no one worked harder than Polly, and no +one's laugh was more merry. Now and then, it is true, an odd memory and +a queer sensation of failure came over her. Was she really--really +to-day, at least--trying to climb successfully the highest mountain? +She stifled the little voice speaking in her heart, delighted her +brothers and sisters, and even caused a smile to play round David's +grave lips as she made one witty remark after another. Firefly in +particular was in ecstasies with her beloved sister, and when the Doctor +at last appeared on the scene the fun was at its height. + +The moment he entered the banqueting-hall Polly went up to him, put on +her archest and most pleading expression, and said in a tone of inquiry: + +"It's all so delightful, and such a treat for her. And you don't mind, +do you father?" + +"I don't know that I mind anything at this moment, Polly, for I am +hungry, and your viands look tempting of the tempting. Unless you bid me +not to come to the feast, I shall quarrel with no other suggestion." + +"Oh! you darlingest of fathers; then you won't be angry if poor Maggie +sits next me; and has her dinner with us? She is a little afraid of the +moor, and I wanted to cure her, so I brought her to-day, and she will be +so happy if she can sit next me at dinner." + +"Put her where you please, my dear; we are not sitting on forms or +standing on ceremony at present. And now to dinner, to dinner, children, +for I must be off again in an hour." + +No one noticed, not even David, that while the Doctor was speaking a +shadow stole up and remained motionless by the crumbling stairs of the +old banqueting-hall; no one either saw when it glided away. Polly +laughed, and almost shouted; every one, Flower excepted, took their +places as best they could on the uneven floor of the hall; the white +tablecloth was spread neatly in the middle. Every one present was +exceedingly uncomfortable physically, and yet each person expressed him +or herself in tones of rapture, and said never was such food eaten, or +such a delightful dinner served. + +For a long time Flower was not even missed; then David's grave face +attracted the Doctor's attention. + +"What is the matter, my lad?" he said. "Have you a headache? Don't you +enjoy this _al fresco_ sort of entertainment? And, by the way, I don't +see your sister. Helen, my dear, do you know where Flower is? Did not +she come with you?" + +"Of course she did, father; how stupid and careless of me never to have +missed her." + +Helen jumped up from the tailor-like position she was occupying on the +floor. + +"Flower said she would take a little walk," she continued. "And I must +say I forgot all about her. She ought to have been back ages ago." + +"Flower went by herself for a walk on the moor!" echoed the Doctor. "But +that isn't safe; she may lose her way, or get frightened. Why did you +let her go, children?" + +No one answered; a little cloud seemed to have fallen on the merry +party. Polly again had a pinprick of uneasiness in her heart, and a +vivid recollection of the highest mountain which she was certainly not +trying to climb. + +The Doctor said he would go at once to look for Flower. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN. + + +David was quite right when he said his sister was not like other girls. +There was a certain element of wildness in her; she had sweet manners, a +gracious bearing, an attractive face; but in some particulars she was +untamed. Never had that terrible strong temper of hers been curbed. More +than one of the servants in the old home at Ballarat had learnt to dread +it. When Flower stormed, her father invariably left home, and David shut +himself up in his own room. Her mother, an affectionate but not +particularly strong-minded woman, alone possessed sufficient courage to +approach the storm-tossed little fury. Mrs. Dalrymple had a certain +power of soothing the little girl, but even she never attempted to teach +the child the smallest lessons of self-control. + +This unchecked, unbridled temper grew and strengthened with Flower's +growth. When under its influence she was a transformed being, and David +had good reason to be afraid of her. + +In addition to an ungovernable temper, Flower was proud; she possessed +the greatest pride of all, that of absolute ignorance. She believed +firmly in caste; had she lived in olden days in America, she would have +been a very cruel mistress of slaves. Yet with it all Flower had an +affectionate heart; she was generous, loyal, but she was so thoroughly a +spoiled and untrained creature that her good qualities were nearly lost +under the stronger sway of her bad ones. + +After her mother's death Flower had fretted so much that she had grown +shadowy and ill. It was then her father conceived the idea of sending +her and David to an English family to train and educate. He could not +manage Flower, he could not educate David. The Maybrights were heard of +through a mutual friend, and Flower was reconciled to the thought of +leaving the land and home of her birth because she was told she was +going to another mother. She dried her eyes at this thought, and was +tolerably cheerful during the voyage over. On reaching England the news +of Mrs. Maybright's death was broken to her. Again Flower stormed and +raged; she gave poor little David a dreadful night, but in the morning +her tears were dried, her smile had returned, and she went down to +Sleepy Hollow with the Doctor in fairly good spirits. + +The young Maybrights were all on their best behavior--Flower was on +hers, and until the day of the picnic all went well. + +It did not take a great deal to rouse first the obstinate pride of this +young Australian, and then her unbridled passions. Associate with a +servant? No, that she would never, never do. Show Polly that she +approved of her conduct? Not while her own name was Flower Dalrymple. +She let all the other happy children go down to the banqueting-hall +without her, and strode away, miserable at heart, choking with rage and +fury. + +The Dalrymples were very wealthy people, and Flower's home in Ballarat +was furnished with every luxury. Notwithstanding this, the little girl +had never been in a truly refined dwelling-house until she took up her +abode in old-fashioned Sleepy Hollow. Flower had taken a great fancy to +Helen, and she already warmly loved Dr. Maybright. She was wandering +over the moor now, a miserable, storm-tossed little personage, when she +saw his old-fashioned gig and white pony "Rowney" approaching. That old +gig and the person who sat in it--for Dr. Maybright drove +himself--began to act on the heart of the child with a curious magnetic +force. Step by step they caused her to turn, until she reached Troublous +Times Castle almost as soon as the Doctor. She did not know why she was +coming back, for she had not the remotest idea of yielding her will to +Polly's. Still she had a kind of instinct that the Doctor would set +things right. By this she meant that he would give her her own way and +banish Maggie from the scene of festivity. + +The banqueting-hall at the old castle could be reached by two ways: you +might approach it quite easily over the green sward, or you might enter +a higher part of the castle, and come to it down broken steps. + +The Doctor chose one way of approaching the scene of the feast, Flower +another. She was about to descend when she heard voices: Polly was +eagerly asking permission for Maggie to dine with them; the Doctor, in +his easy, genial tones, was giving it to her. That was enough. If Flower +had never known before what absolute hatred was like, she knew it now. +She hated Polly; ungovernable passion mounted to her brain, filled her +eyes, lent wings to her feet; she turned and fled. + +Although the month was October, it was still very hot in the middle of +the day on the open moor. Flower, however, was accustomed to great heat +in her native home, and the full rays of the sun did not impede her +flight. She was so tall and slight and willowy that she was a splendid +runner, but the moor was broken and rough, interspersed here and there +with deep bracken, here and there with heather, here and there again +with rank clumps of undergrowth. The young girl, half blinded with rage +and passion, did not see the sharp points of the rocks or the brambles +in her path. Once or twice she fell. After her second fall she was so +much bruised and hurt, that she was absolutely forced to sit still in +the midst of the yellow-and-brown bracken. It was in a bristling, +withered state, but it still stood thick and high, and formed a kind of +screen all round Flower as she sat in it. She took off her cap, and idly +fanned her hot face with it; her yellow head could scarcely be +distinguished from the orange-and-gold tints of the bracken which +surrounded her. + +In this way the Doctor, who was now anxiously looking for Flower, missed +her, for he drove slowly by, not a hundred yards from her hiding-place. + +As Flower sat and tried to cool herself, she began to reflect. Her +passion was not in the least over; on the contrary, its most dangerous +stage had now begun. As she thought, there grew up stronger and stronger +in her heart a great hatred for Polly. From the first, Flower had not +taken so warmly to Polly as she had done to Helen. The fact was, these +girls were in many ways too much alike. Had it been Polly's fate to be +born and brought up in Ballarat, she might have been Flower over again. +She might have been even worse than Flower, for she was cleverer; on the +other hand, had Flower been trained by Polly's wise and loving mother, +she might have been a better girl than Polly. + +As it was, however, these two must inevitably clash. They were like two +queen bees in the same hive; they each wanted the same place. It only +needed a trifle to bring Flower's uneasy, latent feeling against Polly +to perfection. The occasion arose, the match had fired the easily +ignited fuel, and Flower sat now and wondered how she could best revenge +herself on Polly. + +After a time, stiff and limping, for she had hurt her ankle, she +recommenced her walk across the moor. She had not the least idea where +her steps were leading her. She was tired, her feet ached, and her great +rage had sufficiently cooled to make her remember distinctly that she +had eaten no dinner; still, she plodded on. From the time she had left +Troublous Times Castle she had not encountered an individual, but now, +as she stepped forward, a man suddenly arose from his lair in the grass +and confronted her. He was a black-eyed, unkempt, uncouth-looking +person, and any other girl would have been very much afraid of him. He +put his arms akimbo, a disagreeable smile crossed his face, and he +instantly placed himself in such a position as completely to bar the +girl's path. + +An English girl would have turned pale at such an apparition in so +lonely a place, but Flower had seen bushmen in her day, and did not +perceive anything barbarous or outlandish in the man's appearance. + +"I'm glad I've met you," she said, in her clear dulcet voice, "for you +can tell me where I am. I want to get to Sleepy Hollow, Dr. Maybright's +place--am I far away?" + +"Two miles, as the crow flies," responded the man. + +"But I can't go as the crow flies. What is the best way to walk? Can't +you show me?" + +"No-a. I be sleepy. Have you got a coin about you, Miss?" + +"Money? No. I left my purse at home. I have not got a watch either, nor +a chain, but I have got a little ring. It is very thin, but it is pure +gold, and I am fond of it. I will give it to you if you will take me the +very nearest way to Sleepy Hollow." + +The man grinned again. "You _be_ a girl!" he said, in a tone of +admiration. "Yes, I'll take you; come." + +He turned on his heel, shambled on in front, and Flower followed. + +In this manner the two walked for some time. Suddenly they mounted a +ridge, and then the man pointed to where the Doctor's house stood, snug +in its own inclosure. + +"Thank you," said Flower. + +She took a little twist of gold off her smallest finger, dropped it into +the man's dirty, open palm, and began quickly to descend the ridge in +the direction of the Hollow. It was nearly three o'clock when she +entered the cool, wide entrance-hall. The house felt still and restful. +Flower acknowledged to herself that she was both tired and hungry, but +her main idea to revenge herself on Polly was stronger than either +fatigue or hunger. She walked into the dining-room, cut a thick slice +from a home-made loaf of bread, broke off a small piece to eat at once, +and put the rest into her pocket. A dish of apples stood near; she +helped herself to two, stowed them away with the bread in the capacious +pocket of her green cloth dress, and then looked around her. She had got +to Polly's home, but how was she to accomplish her revenge? How strike +Polly through her most vulnerable point? + +She walked slowly upstairs, meditating as she went. Her own little +bower-like room stood open; she entered it. Polly's hands had been +mainly instrumental in giving choice touches to this room; Polly's +favorite blue vase stood filled with flowers on the dressing-table, and +a lovely photograph of the Sistine Madonna which belonged to Polly hung +over the mantelpiece. Flower did not look at any of these things. She +unlocked a small drawer in a dainty inlaid cabinet, which she had +brought with her from Ballarat, took out two magnificent diamond rings, +a little watch set with jewels, and a small purse, very dainty in +itself, but which only held a few shillings. She put all these treasures +into a small black velvet bag, fastened the bag round her neck by a +narrow gold chain, and then leaving her room, stood once more in a +contemplative attitude on the landing. + +She was ready now for flight herself, for when she had revenged herself +on Polly, she must certainly fly. But how should she accomplish her +revenge? what should she do? She thought hard. She knew she had but +little time, for the Doctor and the children might return at any moment. + +In the distance she heard the merry laugh of Polly's little sister, +Pearl. Flower suddenly colored, her eyes brightened, and she said to +herself: + +"That is a good idea; I will go and have a talk with Nurse. I can find +out somehow from Nurse what Polly likes best." + +She ran at once to the nurseries. + +"My dear Miss Flower," exclaimed Nurse. "Why, wherever have you been, +Miss? I thought you was with the others. Well! you do look tired and +fagged." + +"I have walked home," said Flower, carelessly. "I didn't care to be out +so long; picnics are nothing to me; I'm accustomed to that sort of thing +on a big scale at Ballarat, you know. I walked home, and then I thought +I'd have a chat with you, if you didn't mind." + +"For sure, dear. Sit you down in that easy chair, Miss Flower; and would +you like to hold baby for a bit? Isn't she sweet to-day? I must say I +never saw a more knowing child for her age." + +"She is very pretty," said Flower, carelessly. "But I don't think I'll +hold her, Nurse. I'm not accustomed to babies, and I'm afraid she might +break or something. Do you know I never had a baby in my arms in my +life? I don't remember David when he was tiny. No, I never saw anything +so young and soft and tiny as this little Pearl; she _is_ very pretty." + +"Eh, dear lamb," said Nurse, squeezing the baby to her heart, "she's the +very sweetest of the sweet. Now you surprise me, Miss Flower, for I'd +have said you'd be took up tremendous with babies, you has them winsome +ways. Why, look at the little dear, she's laughing even now to see you. +She quite takes to you, Miss--the same as she does to Miss Polly." + +"She takes to Polly, does she?" said Flower. + +"Take to her? I should say so, Miss; and as to Miss Polly, she just +worships baby. Two or three times a day she comes into the nursery, and +many and many a time she coaxes me to let her bathe her. The fact is, +Miss Flower, we was all in a dreadful taking about Miss Polly when her +mamma died. She was quite in a stunned sort of state, and it was baby +here brought her round. Ever since then our little Miss Pearl has been +first of all with Miss Polly." + +"Give her to me," said Flower, in a queer, changed voice. "I've altered +my mind--I'd like to hold her. See, is she not friendly? Yes, baby, +kiss me, baby, with your pretty mouth. Does she not coo--isn't she +perfect? You are quite right, Nurse. I do like to hold her, very much +indeed." + +"I said she'd take to you, Miss," said Nurse, in a gratified voice. + +"So she does, and I take to her. Nurse, I wonder if you'd do something +for me?" + +"Of course I will, my dear." + +"I am so awfully hungry. Would you go down' to the kitchen and choose a +nice little dinner for me?" + +"I'll ring the bell, Miss Dalrymple. Alice shall bring it to you on a +tray here, if you've a mind to eat it in the nursery." + +"But I do want you to choose something; do go yourself, and find +something dainty. Do, Nursie, please Nursie. I want to be spoiled a +little bit; no one ever spoils me now that my mamma is dead." + +"Bless the child!" said good-natured and unsuspicious Nurse. "Of course +I'll go, if you put it that way, Missy. Well, take care of baby, Miss +Flower. Don't attempt to carry her; hold her steady with your arm firm +round her back. I'll bring you your dinner in ten minutes at latest, +Miss." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +FORSAKEN. + + +The moment Nurse's footsteps died away Flower sprang to her feet, +snatched up a white wool shawl, which lay over the baby's cot, wrapped +it round her, and flew downstairs with the little creature in her arms. + +Out through a side door which stood open ran Flower, down by the +shrubbery, over the stile, and in a few moments she was out again on the +wide, wild, lonely moor with Polly's pet pressed close to her beating +heart. Long before Nurse had returned to the nursery Flower had reached +the moor, and when poor, distracted Nurse discovered her loss, Flower +had wriggled herself into the middle of a clump of young oak-trees, and +was fondling and petting little Pearl, who sat upright on her knee. From +her hiding-place Flower could presently hear footsteps and voices, but +none of them came near her, and for the present baby was contented, and +did not cry. After a time the footsteps moved further off, and Flower +peeped from her shelter. + +"Now, baby, come on," she said. She wrapped the shawl again firmly round +the little one, and started with a kind of trotting motion over the +outskirts of the moor. She was intensely excited, and her cheeks were +flushed with the first delicious glow of victory. Oh, how sorry Polly +would be now for having attempted to oppose her. Yes, Polly would know +now that Flower Dalrymple was not a person to be trifled with. + +She was really a strong girl, though she had a peculiarly fragile look. +The weight of the three months' old baby was not very great, and for a +time she made quite rapid progress. After she had walked about a mile +she stood still to consider and to make her plans. No more ignorant girl +in all England could perhaps be found than this same poor silly, +revengeful Flower; but even she, with all her ideas Australian, and her +knowledge of English life and ways simply null and void, even she knew +that the baby could not live for a long time without food and shelter on +the wide common land which lay around. She did not mean to steal baby +for always, but she thought she would keep her for a month or two, until +Polly was well frightened and repentant, and then she would send her +back by some kind, motherly woman whom she was sure to come across. As +to herself, she had fully made up her mind never again to enter the +doors of Sleepy Hollow, for it would be impossible for her, she felt, to +associate with any people who had sat down to dinner with the +kitchen-maid. Holding the baby firmly in her arms, Flower stood and +hesitated. The warm fleecy white shawl sheltered little Pearl from all +cold, and for the present she slept peacefully. + +"I must try and find some town," thought Flower. "I must walk to some +town--the nearest, I suppose--with baby. Then I will sell one of my +rings, and try to get a nice woman to give me a lodging. If she is a +motherly person--and I shall certainly look out for some one that +is--I can give her little Pearl when I get tired of her, and she can +take her back to Sleepy Hollow. But I won't give Pearl up for the +present; for, in the first place she amuses me, and in the next I wish +Polly to be well punished. Now I wonder which is the nearest way to the +town? If I were at Ballarat, I should know quickly enough by the +sign-posts placed at intervals all over the country, but they don't seem +to have anything of the sort here in barbarous England. Now, how shall I +get to the nearest town without meeting any one who would be likely to +tell Dr. Maybright?" + +Flower had scarcely expressed herself in this fashion before once again +the rough-looking man crossed her path. She greeted him quite joyfully. + +"Oh! you're just the person I want," she exclaimed. "I've got my purse +now, and a little money in it. Would you like to earn a shilling?" + +"Sure-_ly_," said the man. "But I'd a sight rather 'arn two," he added. + +"I'll give you two. I have not got much money, but I'll certainly give +you two shillings if you'll help me now. I have got a little baby +here--a dear little baby, but she's rather heavy. I am running away +with her to revenge myself on somebody. I don't mind telling you that, +for you look like an outlaw yourself, and you'll sympathize with me. I +want you to carry baby for me, and to take us both to the nearest town. +Do you hear? Will you do it?" + +"Sure-_ly_," said the man, favoring Flower with a long, peculiar glance. + +"Well, here's baby; you must be very careful of her. I'll give you +_three_ shillings after you have taken her and me to the nearest town; +and if you are really kind, and walk quickly, and take us to a nice +restaurant where I can have a good dinner--for I am awfully +hungry--you shall have something to eat yourself as well. Now walk on +in front of me, please, and don't waste any more time, for it would be +dreadful if we were discovered." + +The man shambled on at once in front of Flower; his strong arms +supported little Pearl comfortably, and she slumbered on in an unbroken +dream. + +The bright sunlight had now faded, the short October day was drawing in, +the glory and heat of the morning had long departed, and Flower, whose +green cloth dress was very light in texture, felt herself shivering in +the sudden cold. + +"Are you certain you are going to the nearest town?" she called out to +the man. + +"Sure-_ly_," he responded back to her. He was stepping along at a +swinging pace, and Flower was very tired, and found it difficult to keep +up with him. Having begged of him so emphatically to hurry, she did not +like to ask him now to moderate his steps. To keep up with him at all +she had almost to run; and she was now not only hungry, cold, and tired, +but the constant quick motion took her breath away. They had left the +border of the moor, and were now in the middle of a most desolate piece +of country. As Flower looked around her she shivered with the first real +sensation of loneliness she had ever known. The moor seemed to fill the +whole horizon. Desolate moor and lowering sky--there seemed to be +nothing else in all the world. + +"Where is the nearest town?" she gasped at last. "Oh, what a long, long +way off it is!" + +"It's miles away!" said the man, suddenly stopping and turning round +fiercely upon her; "but ef you're hungry, there's a hut yer to the left +where my mother lives. She'll give you a bit of supper and a rest, ef so +be as you can pay her well." + +"Oh, yes, I can pay her," responded Flower. The thought of any shelter +or any food was grateful to the fastidious girl now. + +"I am very hungry and very tired," she said. "I will gladly rest in your +mother's cottage. Where is it?" + +"I said as it wor a hut. There are two dawgs there: be you afeard?" + +"Of _dogs_? I am not afraid of anything!" said Flower, curling her short +lip disdainfully. + +"You _be_ a girl!" responded the man. He shambled on again in front, and +presently they came in sight of the deserted hermit's hut, where Polly +and Maggie a few weeks before had been led captive. A woman was standing +in the doorway, and by her side, sitting up on their haunches, were two +ugly, lean-looking dogs. + +"Down, Cinder and Flinder!" said the woman. "Down you brutes! Now, +Patrick, what have you been up to? Whatever's that in your arms, and +who's a-follering of yer?" + +"This yer's a babby," said the man, "and this yer's a girl. She," +pointing to Flower, "wants to be took to the nearest town, and she have +money to pay, she says." + +"Oh! she have money to pay?" said the wife of Micah Jones--for it was +she. "Them as has money to pay is oilers and oilers welcome. Come in, +and set you down by the fire, hinney. Well, well, and so you has brought +a babby with you! Give it to me, Pat. What do you know, you great +hulking feller! about the tending of babbies?" + +The man gladly relinquished his charge, then pointed backwards with his +finger at Flower. + +"She's cold and 'ungry, and she has money to pay," he said. + +"Come in, then, Missy, come in; yer's a good fire, and a hunk of cheese, +and some brown bread, and there'll be soup by-and-by. Yes," winking at +her son, "there'll be good strong soup by-and-by." + +Flower, who had come up close to the threshold of the hut, now drew back +a step or two. At sight of the woman her courage had revived, her +feeling of extreme loneliness had vanished, and a good deal of the +insolence which often marked her bearing had in consequence returned to +her. + +"I won't go in," she said. "It looks dirty in there and I hate dirt. No, +I won't go in! Bring me some food out here, please. Of course I'll pay +you." + +"Highty-tighty!" said the woman. "And is wee babby to stay out in the +cold night air?" + +"I forgot about the baby," said Flower. "Give her to me. Is the night +air bad for babies?" she asked, looking up inquiringly at the great +rough woman who stood by her side. + +Flower's utter and fearless indifference to even the possibility of +danger had much the same effect on Mrs. Jones that it had upon her son. +They both owned to a latent feeling of uneasiness in her presence. Had +she showed the least trace of fear; had she dreaded them, or tried in +any way to soften them, they would have known how to manage her. But +Flower addressed them much as she would have done menials in her kitchen +at home. The mother, as well as the son, muttered under her +breath--"Never see'd such a gel!" She dropped the baby into Flower's +outstretched arms, and answered her query in a less surly tone than +usual. + +"For sure night air is bad for babes, and this little 'un is young. Yes, +werry young and purty." + +The woman pulled aside the white fluffy shawl; two soft clear brown eyes +looked up at her, and a little mouth was curved to a radiant smile. + +"Fore sure she's purty," said the woman. "Look, Patrick. She minds me +o'--well, never mind. Missy, it ain't good for a babe like that to be +out in the night air. You're best in the house, and so is the babe. The +dawgs shan't touch yer. Come into the house, and I'll give yer what +supper's going, and the babe, pretty crittur, shall have a drink of +milk." + +"I would not injure the baby," said Flower. She held both arms firm +round it, and entered the smoky, dismal hut. + +The wife of Micah Jones moved a stool in front of the fire, pushed +Flower rather roughly down on it, and then proceeded to cut thick +hunches of sour bread and cheese. This was quite the coarsest food +Flower had ever eaten, and yet she never thought anything more +delicious. While she ate the woman sat down opposite her. + +"I'll take the babe now and feed it," she said. "The pretty dear must be +hungry." + +It was not little Pearl's way to cry. It was her fashion to look +tranquilly into all faces, and to take calmly every event, whether +adverse or otherwise. When she looked at Flower she smiled, and she +smiled again into the face of the rough woman who, in consequence, fed +her tenderly with the best she had to give. + +"Is the soup done?" said the rough man, suddenly coming forward. "It's +soup I'm arter. It's soup as'll put life into Miss, and give her a mind +to walk them miles to the nearest town." + +The woman laughed back at her son. + +"The soup's in the pot," she said. "You can give it a stir, Pat, if you +will. Nathaniel will be in by-and-by, and he'll want his share. But you +can take a bowl now, if you like, and give one to Missy." + +"Ay," said the man, "soup's good; puts life into a body." + +He fetched two little yellow bowls filled one for Flower, stirring it +first with a pewter spoon. + +"This'll put life into you, Miss," he said. + +He handed the bowl of soup to the young girl. All this time the woman +was bending over the baby. Suddenly she raised her head. + +"'Tis a bonny babe," she said. "Ef I was you, Pat, I wouldn't stir +Missy's soup. I'd give her your own bowl. I has no quarrel with Miss, +and the babe is fair. Give her your own soup, Patrick." + +"It's all right, mother, Miss wouldn't eat as much as in my bowl. You +ain't 'ungry enough for that, be you, Miss?" + +"I am very hungry," said Flower, who was gratefully drinking the hot +liquid. "I could not touch this food if I was not _very_ hungry. If I +want more soup I suppose I can have some more from the pot where this +was taken. What is the matter, woman? What are you staring at me for?" + +"I think nought at all of you," said the woman, frowning, and drawing +back, for Flower's tone was very rude. "But the babe is bonny. Here, +take her back, she's like--but never mind. You'll be sleepy, maybe, and +'ud like to rest a bit. I meant yer no harm, but Patrick's powerful, and +he and Nat, they does what they likes. They're the sons of Micah Jones, +and he was a strong man in his day. You'd like to sleep, maybe, Missy. +Here, Patrick, take the bowl from the girl's hand." + +"I do feel very drowsy," said Flower. "I suppose it is from being out +all day. This hut is smoky and dirty, but I'll just have a doze for five +minutes. Please, Patrick, wake me at the end of five minutes, for I +must, whatever happens, reach the nearest town before night." + +As Flower spoke her eyes closed, and the woman, laying her back on some +straw, put the baby into her arms. + +"She'll sleep sound, pretty dear," she said. "Ef I was you I wouldn't +harm her, just for the sake of the babe," she concluded. + +"Why, mother, what's took you? _I_ won't hurt Missy. It's her own fault +ef she runs away, and steals the baby. That baby belongs to the doctor +what lives in the Hollow; it's nought special, and you needn't be took +up with it. Ah, here comes Nathaniel. Nat, I've found a lass wandering +on the moor, and I brought her home, and now the mother don't want us to +share the booty." + +Nathaniel Jones was a man of very few words indeed. He had a fiercer, +wilder eye than his brother, and his evidently was the dominant and +ruling spirit. + +"The moon's rising," he said; "she'll be at her full in half an hour. Do +your dooty, mother, for we must be out of this, bag and baggage, in half +an hour." + +Without a word or a sigh, or even a glance of remorse, Mrs. Jones took +the cap from Flower's head, and feeling around her neck discovered the +gold chain which held the little bag of valuables. Without opening this +she slipped it into her pocket. Flower's dainty shoes were then removed, +and the woman looked covetously at the long, fine, cloth dress, but +shook her head over it. + +"I'd wake her if I took it," she said. + +"No, you wouldn't, I drugged the soup well," said Pat. + +"Well, anyhow, I'll leave her her dress. There's nought more but a +handkerchief with a bit of lace on it." + +"Take the baby's shawl," said Nathaniel, "and let us be off. If the moon +goes down we won't see the track. Here, mother, I'll help myself to the +wrap." + +"No, you won't," said the woman. "You don't touch the babe with the pale +face and the smile of Heaven. I'm ready; let's go." + +The dogs were called, and the entire party strode in single file along a +narrow path, which led away in a westerly direction over Peg-Top Moor. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +WITHOUT HER TREASURE. + + +"There is a great fuss made about it all," said Polly. + +This was her remark when her father left the pleasant picnic dinner and +drove away over the moor in search of Flower. + +"There is a great fuss made over it all. What is Flower more than any +other girl? Why should she rule us all, and try to make things +uncomfortable for us? No, David, you need not look at me like that. If +Flower has got silly Australian notions in her head, she had better get +rid of them as fast as possible. She is living with English people now, +and English people all the world over won't put up with nonsense." + +"It isn't Flower's ways I mean," said David. "Her ways and her thoughts +aren't much, but it's--it's when she gets into a passion. There's no +use talking about it--you have done it now, Polly!--but Flower's +passions are awful." + +David's eyes filled slowly with tears. + +"Oh, you are a cry-baby," said Polly. She knew she was making herself +disagreeable all round. In her heart she admired and even loved David; +but nothing would induce her to say she was sorry for any part she had +taken in Flower's disappearance. + +"Everything is as tiresome as possible," she said, addressing her +special ally, Maggie. "There, Mag, you need not stare at me. Your brain +will get as small as ever again if you don't take care, and I know +staring in that stupid way you have is particularly weakening to the +brain. You had better help George to pack up, for I suppose Nell is +right, and we must all begin to think of getting home. Oh, dear, what a +worry it is to have to put up with the whims of other people. Yes, I +understand at last why father hesitated to allow the strangers to come +here." + +"I wouldn't grumble any more, if I were you, Polly," said Helen. "See +how miserable David looks. I do hope father will soon find Flower. I did +not know that David was so very fond of her." + +"David is nervous," retorted Polly, shortly. Then she turned to and +packed in a vigorous manner, and very soon after the little party +started on their return walk home. It was decidedly a dull walk. Polly's +gay spirits were fitful and forced; the rest of the party did not +attempt to enjoy themselves. David lagged quite behind the others; and +poor Maggie confided to George that somehow or other, she could not tell +why, they were all turning their eyes reproachful-like on her. The sun +had gone in now in the heavens, and the children, who had no sunshine in +their hearts just then, had a vivid consciousness that it was late +autumn, and that the summer was quite at an end. + +As they neared the rise in the moor which hid Sleepy Hollow from view, +David suddenly changed his position from the rear to the van. As they +approached the house he stooped down, picked up a small piece of paper, +looked at it, uttered a cry of fear and recognition, and ran off as fast +as ever he could to the house. + +"What a queer boy David is!" was on Polly's lips; but she could scarcely +say the words before he came out again. His face was deadly white, he +shook all over, and the words he tried to say only trembled on his lips. + +"What is it, David?" said the twins, running up to him. + +"She'll believe me now," said David. + +He panted violently, his teeth chattered. + +"Oh! David, you frighten us! What can be the matter? Polly, come here! +Nell, come and tell us what is the matter with David." + +The elder girls, and the rest of the children, collected in the porch. +Polly, the tallest of all, looked over the heads of the others. She +caught sight of David's face, and a sudden pain, a queer sense of fear, +and the awakening of a late remorse, filled her breast. + +"What is it, David?" she asked, with the others; but her voice shook, +and was scarcely audible. + +"She's done it!" said David. "The baby's gone! It's Flower! She was in +one of her passions, and she has taken the baby away. I said she wasn't +like other girls. Nurse thinks perhaps the baby'll die. What is +it?--oh, Polly! what is it!" For Polly had given one short scream, and, +pushing David and every one aside, rushed wildly into the house. + +She did not hear the others calling after her; she heard nothing but a +surging as of great waves in her ears, and David's words echoing along +the passages and up the stairs "Perhaps the baby will die!" She did not +see her father, who held out his arms to detain her. She pushed Alice +aside without knowing that she touched her. In a twinkling she was at +the nursery door; in a twinkling she was kneeling by the empty cot, and +clasping the little frilled pillow on which baby's head used to rest +passionately to her lips. + +"It's true, then!" she gasped, at last. "I know now what David meant; I +know now why he warned me. Oh Nursie! Nursie! it's my fault!" + +"No, no, my darling!" said Nurse; "it's that dreadful young lady. But +she'll bring her back. Sure, what else could she do, lovey? She'll bring +the little one back, and, by the blessing of the good God, she'll be +none the worse for this. Don't take on so, Miss Polly! Don't look like +that, dear! Why, your looks fairly scare me." + +"I'll be better in a minute," said Polly. "This is no time for feelings. +I'll be quiet in a minute. Have you got any cold water? There's such a +horrid loud noise in my ears." + +She rushed across the room, poured a quantity of water into a basin, and +laved her face and head. + +"Now I can think," she said. "What did Flower do, Nurse? Tell me +everything; tell me in very few words, please, for there isn't a +moment--there isn't half a moment--to lose." + +"It was this way, dear: she came into the room, and took baby into her +arms, and asked for some dinner. She didn't seem no way taken with baby +at first, but when I told her how much you loved our little Miss Pearl, +she asked me to give her to her quite greedy-like, and ordered me to +fetch some dinner for herself, for she was starving, she said. I offered +that Alice should bring it; but no, she was all that I should choose +something as would tempt her appetite, and she coaxed with that pretty +way she have, and I went down to the kitchen myself to please her. I'll +never forgive myself, never, to the longest day I live. I wasn't ten +minutes gone, but when I come back with a nice little tray of curry, and +some custard pie, Miss Flower and the baby were away. That's all--they +hasn't been seen since." + +"How long ago is that, Nurse?" + +"I couldn't rightly tell you, dearie--maybe two hours back. I ran all +round the moor anywhere near, and so did every servant in the house, but +since the Doctor come in they has done the thing properly. Now where are +you going, Miss Polly, love?" + +"To my father. I wish this horrid noise wouldn't go on in my head. Don't +worry me, Nurse. I know it was my fault. I wouldn't listen to the +warning, and I would provoke her, but don't scold me now until I have +done my work." + +Polly rushed downstairs. + +"Where's father?" she asked of Bunny, who was sobbing violently, and +clinging in a frantic manner to Firefly's skirts. + +"I--I don't know. He's out." + +"He's away on the moor," said Fly. "Polly, are you really anxious about +baby Pearl?" + +"I have no time to be anxious," said Polly. "I must find her first. I'll +tell you then if I'm anxious. Where's Nell, where are the twins?" + +"On the moor; they all went out with father." + +"Which moor, the South or Peg-Top?" + +"I think the South moor." + +"All right, I'm going out too. What's the matter, Fly? Oh, you're not to +come." + +"Please, please, it's so horrid in the house, and Bunny does make my +dress so soppy with crying into it." + +"You're not to come. You are to stay here and do your best, your very +best, for father and the others when they come home. If they don't meet +me, say I've gone to look for baby and for Flower. I'll come back when +I've found them. If _they_ find baby and Flower, they might ask to have +the church bells rung, then I'll know. Don't stare at me like that, Fly; +it was my fault, so I must search until I find them." + +Polly ran out of the house and down the lawn. Once again she was out on +the moor. The great solitary commons stretched to right and left; they +were everywhere, they filled the whole horizon, except just where Sleepy +Hollow lay, with its belt of trees, its cultivated gardens, and just +beyond the little village and the church with the square, gray tower. +There was a great lump in Polly's throat, and a mist before her eyes. +The dreadful beating was still going on in her heart, and the surging, +ceaseless waves of sound in her ears. + +Suddenly she fell on her knees. + +"Please, God, give me back little Pearl. Please, God, save little Pearl. +I don't want anything else; I don't even want father to forgive me, if +You will save little Pearl." + +Most earnest prayers bring a sense of comfort, and Polly did not feel +quite so lonely when she stood again on her feet, with the bracken and +the fern all round her. + +She tried hard now to collect her thoughts; she made a valiant effort to +feel calm and reasonable. + +"I can do nothing if I get so excited," she said to herself. "I must +just fight with my anxious spirit. My heart must stay quiet, for my +brain has got to work now. Let me see! where has Flower taken baby? +Father and Nell and the others are all searching the South moor, so I +will go on to Peg-Top. I will walk slowly, and I will look behind every +clump of trees, and I will call Flower's name now and then; for I am +sure, I am quite, quite sure that, however dreadful her passion may have +been, if Flower is the least like me, she will be dreadfully sorry by +now--dreadfully sorry and dreadfully frightened--so if she hears me +calling she will be sure to answer. Oh, dear! oh, dear! here is my heart +speaking again, and my head is in a whirl, and the noises are coming +back into my ears. Oh! how fearfully I hate Flower! How could she, how +could she have taken our darling little baby away? And yet--and yet I +think I'd forgive Flower; I think I'd try to love her; I think I'd even +tell her that I was the one who had done most wrong; I think I'd even go +on my knees and beg Flower's pardon, if only I could hold baby to my +heart again!" + +By this time Polly was crying bitterly. These tears did the poor child +good, relieving the pressure on her brain, and enabling her to think +calmly and coherently. While this tempest of grief, however, effected +these good results, it certainly did not improve her powers of +observation; the fast-flowing tears blinded her eyes, and she stumbled +along, completely forgetting the dangerous and uneven character of the +ground over which she walked. + +It was now growing dusk, and the dim light also added to poor Polly's +dangers. Peg-Top Moor had many tracks leading in all directions. Polly +knew several of these, and where they led, but she had now left all the +beaten paths, and the consequence was that she presently found herself +uttering a sharp and frightened cry, and discovered that she had fallen +down a fairly steep descent. She was slightly stunned by her fall, and +for a moment or two did not attempt to move. Then a dull pain in her +ankle caused her to put her hand to it, and to struggle giddily to a +sitting position. + +"I'll be able to stand in a minute," she said to herself; and she +pressed her hand to her forehead, and struggled bravely against the +surging, waving sounds which had returned to her head. + +"I can't sit here!" she murmured; and she tried to get to her feet. + +In vain!--a sharp agony brought her, trembling and almost fainting, +once more to a sitting posture. What was she to do?--how was she now to +find Flower and the baby? She was alone on the moor, unable to stir. +Perhaps her ankle was broken; certainly, it was sprained very badly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE. + + +When the Maybrights returned home from their disastrous picnic at +Troublous Times Castle, Maggie and George brought up the rear. In +consequence of their being some little way behind the others, Maggie did +not at once know of the fact of Flower's disappearance with the baby. +She was naturally a slow girl; ideas came to her at rare intervals; she +even received startling and terrible news with a certain outward +stolidity and calm. Still, Maggie was not an altogether purposeless and +thoughtless maiden; thoughts occasionally drifted her way; ideas, when +once born in her heart, were slow to die. When affection took root there +it became a very sturdy plant. If there was any one in the world whom +Maggie adored, it was her dear young mistress, Miss Polly Maybright. +Often at night Maggie awoke, and thought, with feelings of almost +worship, of this bright, impulsive young lady. How delightful that week +had been when she and Polly had cooked, and housekeeped, and made cakes +and puddings together! Would any one but Polly have forgiven her for +taking that pound to save her mother's furniture? Would any one in all +the world, except that dear, warm-hearted, impulsive Polly, have +promised to do without a winter jacket in order to return that money to +the housekeeping fund? Maggie felt that, stupid as she knew herself to +be, slow as she undoubtedly was, she could really do great things for +Polly. In Polly's cause her brain could awake, the inertia which more or +less characterized her could depart. For Polly she could undoubtedly +become a brave and active young person. + +She was delighted with herself when she assisted Miss Maybright to +descend from her bedroom window, and to escape with her on to the moor, +but her delight and sense of triumph had not been proof against the +solitude of the sad moor, against the hunger which was only to be +satisfied with berries and spring water, and, above all, against the +terrible apparition of the wife of Micah Jones. What Maggie went, +through in the hermit's hut, what terrors she experienced, were only +known to Maggie's own heart. When, however, Mrs. Ricketts got back her +daughter from that terrible evening's experience, she emphatically +declared that "Mag were worse nor useless; that she seemed daft-like, +and a'most silly, and that never, never to her dying day, would she +allow Mag to set foot on them awful lonely commons again." + +Mrs. Ricketts, however, was not a particularly obstinate character, and +when Polly's bright face peeped round her door, and Polly eagerly, and +almost curtly, demanded that Maggie should that very moment accompany +her on a delightful picnic to Troublous Times Castle, and Maggie +herself, with sparkling eyes and burning cheeks, was all agog to go, and +was now inclined to pooh-pooh the terrors she had endured in the +hermit's hut, there was nothing for Mrs. Ricketts to do but to forget +her vow and send off the two young people with her blessing. + +"Eh, but she's a dear young lady," she said, under her breath, +apostrophizing Miss Maybright. "And Mag do set wonderful store by her, +and no mistake. It ain't every young lady as 'ud think of my Maggie when +she's going out pleasuring; but bless Miss Polly! she seems fairly took +up with my poor gel." + +No face could look more radiant than Maggie's when she started for the +picnic, but, on the other hand, no young person could look more +thoroughly sulky and downcast than she did on her return. Mrs. Ricketts +was just dishing up some potatoes for supper when Maggie flung open the +door of the tiny cottage, walked across the room, and flung herself on a +little settle by the fire. + +"You're hungry, Mag," said Mrs. Ricketts, without looking up. + +"No, I bean't," replied Maggie, shortly. + +"Eh, I suppose you got your fill of good things out with the young +ladies and gentlemen. It ain't your poor mother's way to have a bit of +luck like that, and you never thought, I suppose, of putting a slice or +two of plum cake, or maybe the half of a chicken, in your pocket, as a +bit of a relish for your mother's supper. No, no, that ain't your way, +Mag; you're all for self, and that I will say." + +"No, I ain't mother. You has no call to talk so. How could I hide away +chicken and plum cake, under Miss Polly's nose, so to speak. I was +setting nigh to Miss Polly, mother, jest about the very middle of the +feast. I had a place of honor close up to Miss Polly, mother." + +"Eh, to be sure!" exclaimed Mrs. Ricketts. + +She stopped dishing up the potatoes, wiped her brow, and turned to look +at her daughter, with a slow expression of admiration in her gaze. + +"Eh," she continued, "you has a way about you, Mag, with all your +contrariness. Miss Polly Maybright thinks a sight on you, Mag; seems to +me as if maybe she'd adopt you, and turn you into a real lady. My word, +I have read of such things in story-books." + +"You had better go on dishing up your supper, mother and not be talking +nonsense like that. Miss Polly is a very good young lady, but she hasn't +no thought of folly of that sort. Eh, dear me," continued Maggie, +yawning prodigiously "I'm a bit tired, and no mistake." + +"That's always the way," responded Mrs. Ricketts. "Tired and not a word +to say after your pleasuring; no talking about what happened, and what +Miss Helen wore, and if Miss Firefly has got on her winter worsted +stockings yet, and not a mention of them foreigners as we're all dying +to hear of, and not a word of what victuals you ate, nor nothing. You're +a selfish girl, Maggie Ricketts, and that I will say, though I am your +mother." + +"I'm sleepy," responded Maggie, who seemed by no means put out by this +tirade on the part of her mother. "I'll go up to bed if you don't mind, +mother. No, I said afore as I wasn't hungry." + +She left the room, crept up the step-ladder to the loft, where the +family slept, and opening the tiny dormer window, put her elbows on the +sill and gazed out on the gathering gloom which was settling on the +moor. + +The news of the calamity which had befallen Polly had reached Maggie's +ears. Maggie thought only of Polly in this trouble; it was Polly's baby +who was lost, it was Polly whose heart would be broken. She did not +consider the others in the matter. It was Polly, the Polly whom she so +devotedly loved, who filled her whole horizon. When the news was told +her she scarcely said a word; a heavy, "Eh!--you don't say!" dropped +from her lips. Even George, who was her informer, wondered if she had +really taken in the extent of the catastrophe; then she had turned on +her heel and walked down to her mother's cottage. + +She was not all thoughtless and all indifferent, however. While she +looked so stoical and heavy she was patiently working out an idea, and +was nerving herself for an act of heroism. + +Now as she leant her elbows on the sill by the open window, cold Fear +came and stood by her side. She was awfully frightened, but her resolve +did not falter. She meant to slip away in the dusk and walk across +Peg-Top Moor to the hermit's hut. An instinct, which she did not try +either to explain away or prove, led her to feel sure that she should +find Polly's baby in the hermit's hut. She would herself, unaided and +alone, bring little Pearl back to her sister. + +It would have been quite possible for Maggie to have imparted her ideas +to George, to her mother, or to some of the neighbors. There was not a +person in the village who would not go to the rescue of the Doctor's +child. Maggie might have accompanied a multitude, had she so willed it, +to the hermit's hut. But then the honor and glory would not have been +hers; a little reflection of it might shine upon her, but she would not +bask, as she now hoped to do, in its full rays. + +She determined to go across the lonely moor which she so dreaded alone, +for she alone must bring back Pearl to Polly. + +Shortly before the moon arose, and long after sunset, Maggie crept down +the attic stairs, unlatched the house door, and stepped out into the +quiet village street. Her fear was that some neighbors would see her, +and either insist on accompanying her on her errand, or bring her home. +The village, however, was very quiet that night, and at nine o'clock, +when Maggie started on her search, there were very few people out. + +She came quickly to the top of the small street, crossed a field, +squeezed through a gap in the hedge, and found herself on the borders of +Peg-Top Moor. The moon was bright by this time, and there was no fear of +Maggie not seeing. She stepped over the ground briskly, a solitary +little figure with a long shadow ever stalking before her, and a +beating, defiant heart in her breast. She had quite determined that +whatever agony she went through, her fears should not conquer her; she +would fight them down with a strong hand, she would go forward on her +road, come what might. + +Maggie was an ignorant little cottager, and there were many folk-lore +tales abroad with regard to the moor which might have frightened a +stouter heart than hers. She believed fully in the ghost who was to be +seen when the moon was at the full, pacing slowly up and down, through +that plantation of trees at her right; she had unswerving faith in the +bogey who uttered terrific cries, and terrified the people who were +brave enough to walk at night through Deadman's Glen. But she believed +more fully still in Polly, in Polly's love and despair, and in the +sacredness of the errand which she was now undertaking to deliver her +from her trouble. + +From Mrs. Ricketts' cottage to the hermit's hut there lay a stretch of +moorland covering some miles in extent, and Maggie knew that the lonely +journey she was taking could not come to a speedy end. + +She knew, however, that she had got on the right track and that by +putting one foot up and one foot down, as the children do who want to +reach London town, she also at last would come to her destination. + +The moon shone brightly, and the little maid, her shadow always going +before her, stepped along bravely. + +Now and then that same shadow seemed to assume gigantic and unearthly +proportions, but at other times it wore a friendly aspect, and somewhat +comforted the young traveler. + +"It's more or less part of me," quoth Maggie, "and I must say as I'm +glad I have it, it's better nor nought; but oh ain't the moon fearsome, +and don't my heart a-flutter, and a pit-a-pat! I'm quite sure now, yes, +I'm quite gospel sure that ef I was to meet the wife of Micah Jones, I'd +fall flat down dead at her feet. Oh, how fearsome is this moor! Well, ef +I gets hold of Miss Pearl I'll never set foot an it again. No, not even +for a picnic, and the grandest seat at the feast, and the best of the +victuals." + +The moon shone on, and presently the interminable walk came to a +conclusion. Maggie reached the hermit's hut, listened with painful +intentness for the baying of some angry dogs, pressed her nose against +the one pane of glass in the one tiny window, saw nothing, heard +nothing, finally lifted the latch, and went in. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE HERMIT'S HUT. + + +It was perfectly dark inside the hut, for the little window, through +which the moon might have shone, was well shrouded with a piece of old +rug. It was perfectly dark, and Maggie, although she had stumbled a good +deal in lifting the latch, and having to descend a step without knowing +it, had all but tumbled headlong into the tiny abode, had evoked no +answering sound or stir of any sort. + +She stood still for a moment in the complete darkness to recover breath, +and to consider what she was to do. Strange to say, she did not feel at +all frightened now; the shelter of the four walls gave her confidence. +There were no dogs about, and Maggie felt pretty sure that the wife of +Micah Jones was also absent, for if she were in the hut, and awake, she +would be sure to say, "Who's there?" quoth Maggie, to her own heart; +"and ef she's in the hut, and asleep, why it wouldn't be like her not to +snore." + +The little girl stood still for a full minute; during this time she was +collecting her faculties, and that brain, which Polly was pleased to +call so small, was revolving some practical schemes. + +"Ef I could only lay my hand on a match, now," she thought. + +She suddenly remembered that in her mother's cottage the match-box was +generally placed behind a certain brick near the fireplace; it was a +handy spot, both safe and dry, and Maggie, since her earliest days, had +known that if there was such a luxury as a box of matches in the house, +it would be found in this corner. She wondered if the wife of Micah +Jones could also have adopted so excellent a practice. She stepped +across the little hut, felt with her hands right and left, poked about +all round the open fireplace, and at last, joy of joys, not only +discovered a box with a few matches in it, but an end of candle besides. + +In a moment she had struck a match, had applied it to the candle, and +then, holding the flickering light high, looked around the little hut. + +A girl, crouched up against the wall on some straw, was gazing at her +with wide-open terrified eyes; the girl was perfectly still, not a +muscle in her body moved, only her big frightened eyes gazed fixedly at +Maggie. She wore no hat on her head; her long yellow hair lay in +confusion over her shoulders; her feet were shoeless, and one arm was +laid with a certain air of protection on a wee white bundle on the straw +by her side. + +"Who are you?" said Flower, at last. "Are you a ghost, or are you the +daughter of the dreadful woman who lives in this hut? See! I had a long +sleep. She put me to sleep, I know she did; and while I was asleep she +stole my purse and rings, and my hat and shoes. But that's nothing, +that's nothing at all. While I was asleep, baby here died. I know she's +quite dead, she has not stirred nor moved for hours, at least it seems +like hours. What are you staring at me in that rude way for, girl? I'm +quite sure the baby, Polly's little sister, is dead." + +Nobody could speak in a more utterly apathetic way than Flower. Her +voice neither rose nor fell. She poured out her dreary words in a +wailing monotone. + +"I know that it's my fault," she added; "Polly's little sister has died +because of me." + +She still held her hand over the white bundle. + +"I'm terrified, but not of you," she added; "you may be a ghost, +stealing in here in the dark; or you may be the daughter of that +dreadful woman. But whoever you are, it's all alike to me. I got into +one of my passions. I promised my mother when she died that I'd never +get into another, but I did, I got into one to-day. I was angry with +Polly Maybright; I stole her little sister away, and now she's dead. I +am so terrified at what I have done that I never can be afraid of +anything else. You need not stare so at me, girl; whoever you are I'm +not afraid of you." + +Maggie had now found an old bottle to stick her candle into. + +"I am Miss Polly's little kitchen-maid, Maggie Ricketts," she replied. +"I ain't a ghost, and I haven't nothing to say to the wife of Micah +Jones. As to the baby, let me look at it. You're a very bad young lady, +Miss Flower, but I has come to fetch away the baby, ef you please, so +let me look at it this minute. Oh, my, how my legs do ache; that moor is +heavy walking! Give me the baby, please, Miss Flower. It ain't your +baby, it's Miss Polly's." + +"So, you're Maggie?" said Flower. There was a queer shake in her voice. +"It was about you I was so angry. Yes, you may look at the baby; take it +and look at it, but I don't want to see it, not if it's dead." + +Maggie instantly lifted the little white bundle into her arms, removed a +portion of the shawl, and pressed her cheek against the cheek of the +baby. + +The little white cheek was cold, but not deadly cold, and some faint, +faint breath still came from the slightly parted lips. + +When Maggie had anything to do, no one could be less nervous and more +practical. + +"The baby ain't dead at all," she explained. "She's took with a chill, +and she's very bad, but she ain't dead. Mother has had heaps of babies, +and I know what to do. Little Miss Pearl must have a hot bath this +minute." + +"Oh, Maggie," said Flower. "Oh, Maggie, Maggie!" + +Her frozen indifference, her apathy, had departed. She rose from her +recumbent position, pushed back her hair and stood beside the other +young girl, with eyes that glowed, and yet brimmed over with tears. + +"Oh, what a load you have taken off my heart!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what +a darling you are! Kiss me, Maggie, kiss me, dear, dear Maggie." + +"All right, Miss. You was angry with me afore, and now you're a-hugging +of me, and I don't see no more sense in one than t'other. Ef you'll hold +the baby up warm to you, Miss, and breathe ag'in her cheek werry +gentle-like, you'll be a-doing more good than a-kissing of me. I must +find sticks, and I must light up a fire, and I must do it this minute, +or we won't have no baby to talk about, nor fuss over." + +Maggie's rough and practical words were perhaps the best possible tonic +for Flower at this moment. She had been on the verge of a fit of +hysterics, which might have been as terrible in its consequences as +either her passion or her despair. Now trembling slightly, she sat down +on the little stool which Maggie had pulled forward for her, took the +baby in her arms, and partly opening the shawl which covered it, +breathed on its white face. + +The little one certainly was alive, and when Flower's breath warmed it, +its own breathing became stronger. + +Meanwhile, Maggie bustled about. The hermit's hut, now that she had +something to do in it, seemed no longer at all terrible. After a good +search round she found some sticks, and soon a bright fire blazed and +crackled, and filled the tiny house with light and warmth. A pot of +water was put on the fire to warm, and then Maggie looked round for a +vessel to bathe the baby in. She found a little wooden tub, which she +placed ready in front of the fire. + +"So far, so good!" she exclaimed; "but never a sight of a towel is there +to be seen. Ef you'll give me the baby now, Miss, I'll warm her limbs a +bit afore I put her in the bath. I don't know how I'm to dry her, I'm +sure, but a hot bath she must have." + +"I have got a white petticoat on," said Flower. "Would that be any use?" + +"Off with it this minute, then, Miss; it's better nor nought. Now, then, +my lamb! my pretty! see ef Maggie don't pull you round in a twinkling!" + +She rubbed and chafed the little creature's limbs, and soon baby opened +her eyes, and gave a weak, piteous cry. + +"I wish I had something to give her afore I put her in the bath," said +Maggie. "There's sure to be sperits of some sort in a house like this. +You look round you and see ef you can't find something, Miss Flower." + +Flower obediently searched in the four corners of the hut. + +"I can't see anything!" she exclaimed. "The place seems quite empty." + +"Eh, dear!" said Maggie: "you don't know how to search. Take the baby, +and let me." + +She walked across the cabin, thrust her hand into some straw which was +pressed against the rafters, pulled out an old tin can and opened it. + +"Eh, what's this?" she exclaimed. "Sperits? Now we'll do. Give me the +baby back again, Miss Flower, and fetch a cup, ef you please." + +Flower did so. + +"Put some hot water into it. Why, you ain't very handy! Miss Polly's +worth a dozen of you! Now pour in a little of the sperit from the tin +can--not too much. Let me taste it. That will do. Now, baby--now, Miss +Polly's darling baby!--I'll wet your lips with this, and you'll have +your bath, and you'll do fine!" + +The mixture was rubbed on the blue lips of the infant, and Maggie even +managed to get her to swallow a few drops. Then, the bath being prepared +by Flower, under a shower of scathing ridicule from Maggie, who had very +small respect, in any sense of the word, for her assistant, the baby was +put into it, thoroughly warmed, rubbed up, and comforted, and then, with +the white fleecy shawl wrapped well around her, she fell asleep in +Maggie's arms. + +"She'll do for the present," said the kitchen-maid, leaning back and +mopping a little moisture from her own brow. "She'll do for a time, but +she won't do for long, for she'll want milk and all kinds of comforts. +And I tell you what it is, Miss Flower, that my master and Miss Polly +can't be kept a-fretting for this child until the morning. Some one must +go at once, and tell 'em where she is, and put 'em out of their misery, +and the thing is this: is it you, or is it me, that's to do the job?" + +"But," said Flower--she had scarcely spoken at all until now--"cannot +we both go? Cannot we both walk home, and take the baby with us?" + +"No, Miss, not by no means. Not a breath of night air must touch the +cheeks of this blessed lamb. Either you or me, Miss Flower, must walk +back to Sleepy Hollow, and tell 'em about the baby, and bring back +Nurse, and what's wanted for the child. Will you hold her, Miss? and +shall I trot off at once?--for there ain't a minute to be lost." + +"No," said Flower, "I won't stay in the hut. It is dreadful to me. I +will go and tell the Doctor and Polly." + +"As you please, Miss. Maybe it is best as I should stay with little +Missy. You'll find it awful lonesome out on the moor, Miss Flower, and I +expect when you get near Deadman's Glen as you'll scream out with +terror; there's a bogey there with a head three times as big as his +body, and long arms, twice as long as they ought to be, and he tears up +bits of moss and fern, and flings them at yer, and if any of them, even +the tiniest bit, touches yer, why you're dead before the year is out. +Then there's the walking ghost and the shadowy maid, and the brown lady, +the same color as the bracken when it's withering up, and--and--why, +what's the matter, Miss Flower?" + +"Only I respected you before you talked in that way," said Flower. "I +respected you very much, and I was awfully ashamed of not being able to +eat my dinner with you. But when you talk in such an awfully silly way I +don't respect you, so you had better not go on. Please tell me, as well +as you can, how I'm to get to Sleepy Hollow, and I'll start off at +once." + +"You must beware of the brown lady, all the same." + +"No, I won't beware of her; I'll spring right into her arms." + +"And the bogey in Deadman's Glen. For Heaven's sake, Miss Flower, keep +to the west of Deadman's Glen." + +"If Deadman's Glen is a short cut to Sleepy Hollow, I'll walk through +it. Maggie, do you want Nurse to come for little Pearl, or not? I don't +mind waiting here till morning; it does not greatly matter to me. I was +running away, you know." + +"You must go at once," said Maggie, recalled to common sense by another +glance at the sleeping child. "The baby's but weakly, and there ain't +nothing here as I can give her, except the sperits and water, until +Nurse comes. I'll lay her just for a minute on the straw here, and go +out with you and put you on the track. You follow the track right on +until you see the lights in the village. Sleepy Hollow's right in the +village, and most likely there'll be a light in the Doctor's study +window; be quick, for Heaven's sake, Miss Flower?" + +"Yes, I'm off. Oh, Maggie, Maggie! what do you think? That dreadful +woman has stolen my shoes. I forgot all about it until this minute. What +shall I do? I can't walk far in my stockings." + +"Have my boots, Miss; they're hob-nailed, and shaped after my foot, +which is broad, as it should be, seeing as I'm only a kitchen-maid. But +they're strong, and they are sure to fit you fine." + +"I could put my two feet into one of them," responded Flower, curling +her proud lip once again disdainfully. But then she glanced at the baby, +and a queer shiver passed over her; her eyes grew moist, her hands +trembled. + +"I will put the boots on," she said. And she slipped her little feet, in +their dainty fine silk stockings, into Maggie's shoes. + +"Good-by, Miss; come back as soon as you can," called out the faithful +waiting-maid, and Flower set off across the lonely moor. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +AN OLD SONG. + + +It took a great deal to frighten Polly Maybright; no discipline, no hard +words, no punishments, had ever been able to induce the smallest +sensation of fear in her breast. As to the moor, she had been brought up +on it; she had drank in its air, and felt its kindly breath on her +cheeks from her earliest days. The moors were to Polly like dear, +valued, but somewhat stern, friends. To be alone, even at night, in one +of the small ravines of Peg-Top Moor had little in itself to alarm the +moorland child. + +It took Polly some time to realize that she was absolutely unable to +stir a step. Struggle as she might, she could not put that badly-injured +foot to the ground. Even she, brave and plucky as she was, had not the +nerve to undergo this agony. She could not move, therefore she could do +nothing at present to recover little Pearl. This was really the thought +which distressed her. As to sleeping with her head pressed against the +friendly bracken, or staying on Peg-Top Moor all night, these were small +considerations. But not to be able to stir a step to find the baby, to +feel that Flower was carrying the baby farther and farther away, and +that Polly's chance of ever seeing her again was growing less and less, +became at last a thought of such agony that the poor little girl could +scarcely keep from screaming aloud. + +"And it was all my fault!" she moaned. "I forgot what father said about +climbing the highest mountain. When David came to me, and told me that +Flower was subject to those awful passions, I forgot all about my +mountain-climbing. I did not recognize that I had come to a dangerous +bit, so that I wanted the ropes of prayer and the memory of mother to +pull me over it. No, I did nothing but rejoice in the knowledge that I +didn't much like Flower, and that I was very, very glad to tease her. +Now I am punished. Oh, oh, what shall I do? Oh, if baby is lost! If baby +dies, I shall die too! Oh, I think I'm the most miserable girl in all +the world! What shall I do? Why did mother go away? Why did Flower come +here? Why did I want her to come? I made a mess of the housekeeping, and +now I have made a mess of the visit of the strangers. Oh, I'm the sort +of girl who oughtn't to go a step alone!--I really, really am! I think +I'm the very weakest sort of girl in all the world!" + +Polly sobbed and sobbed. It was not her custom to give way thus utterly, +but she was in severe pain of body, and she had got a great shock when +the loss of little Pearl had been announced by David. + +"What shall I do?" she moaned and sobbed. "Oh, I'm the sort of girl who +oughtn't to go a step alone." + +While she cried all by herself on the moor, and the friendly stars +looked down at her, and the moon came out and shone on her poor forsaken +little figure, an old verse she used to say in her early childhood +returned to her memory. It was the verse of a hymn--a hymn her mother +was fond of, and used often to sing, particularly about the time of the +New Year, to the children. + +Mrs. Maybright had a beautiful voice, and on Sunday evenings she sang +many hymns, with wonderful pathos and feeling, to her children. Polly, +who cared for music on her own account, had loved to listen. At these +times she always looked hungrily into her mother's face, and a longing +and a desire for the best things of all awoke in her breast. It was at +such times as these that she made resolves, and thought of climbing high +and being better than others. + +Since her mother's death, Polly could not bear to listen to hymns. In +church she had tried to shut her ears; her lips were closed tight, and +she diligently read to herself some other part of the service. For her +mother's sake, the hymns, with that one beautiful voice silent, were +torture to her; but Polly was a very proud girl, and no one, not even +her father, who now came nearest to her in all the world, guessed what +she suffered. + +Now, lying on the moor, her mother's favorite hymn seemed to float down +from the stars to her ears: + + "I know not the way I am going, + But well do I know my Guide; + With a trusting faith I give my hand + To the loving Friend at my side." + + "The only thing that I say to Him + As He takes it is, 'Hold it fast! + Suffer me not to lose my way, + And bring me home at last!'" + +It did not seem at all to Polly that she was repeating these words +herself; rather they seemed to be said to her gently, slowly, +distinctly, by a well-loved and familiar voice. + +It was true, then, there was a Guide, and those who were afraid to go +alone could hold a Hand which would never lead them astray. + +Her bitter sobs came more quietly as she thought of this. Gradually her +eyes closed, and she fell asleep. + +When Flower started across the moor it was quite true that she was not +in the least afraid. A great terror had come to her that night; during +those awful minutes when she feared the baby was dead, the terror of the +deed she had done had almost stunned her; but when Maggie came and +relieved her of her worst agony, a good deal of her old manner and a +considerable amount of her old haughty, defiant spirit had returned. + +Flower was more or less uncivilized; there was a good deal of the wild +and of the untamed about her; and now that the baby was alive, and +likely to do well, overwhelming contrition for the deed she had done no +longer oppressed her. + +She stepped along as quickly as her uncomfortable boots would admit. The +moonlight fell full on her slender figure, and cast a cold radiance over +her uncovered head. Her long, yellow hair floated down over her +shoulders; she looked wonderfully ethereal, almost unearthly, and had +any of the villagers been abroad, they might well have taken her for one +of the ghosts of the moor. + +Flower had a natural instinct for finding her way, and, aided by +Maggie's directions, she steered in a straight course for the village. +Not a soul was abroad; she was alone, in a great solitude. + +The feeling gave her a certain sense of exhilaration. From the depths of +her despair her easily influenced spirits sprang again to hope and +confidence. After all, nothing very dreadful had happened. She must +struggle not to give way to intemperate feelings. She must bear with +Polly! she must put up with Maggie. It was all very trying, of course, +but it was the English way. She walked along faster and faster, and now +her lips rose in a light song, and now again she ran, eager to get over +the ground. When she ran her light hair floated behind her, and she +looked less and less like a living creature. + +Polly had slept for nearly two hours. She awoke to hear a voice singing, +not the sweet, touching, high notes which had seemed to fall from the +stars to comfort her, but a wild song: + + "Oh, who will up and follow me? + Oh, who will with me ride? + Oh, who will up and follow me + To win a bonny bride?" + +For a moment Polly's heart stood still; then she started forward with a +glad and joyful cry. + +"It is Flower! Flower coming back again with little Pearl!" she said, in +a voice of rapture. "That is Flower's song and Flower's voice, and she +wouldn't sing so gayly if baby was not quite, quite well, and if she was +not bringing her home." + +Polly rose, as well as she could, to a sitting posture, and shouted out +in return: + +"Here I am, Flower. Come to me. Bring me baby at once." + +Even Flower, who in many respects had nerves of iron, was startled by +this sudden apparition among the bracken. For a brief instant she +pressed her hand to her heart. Were Maggie's tales true? Were there +really queer and unnatural creatures to be found on the moor? + +"Come here, Flower, here! I have sprained my ankle. What are you afraid +of?" shouted Polly again. Then Flower sprang to her side, knelt down by +her, and took her cold hand in hers. Flower's slight fingers were warm; +she was glowing all over with life and exercise. + +"Where's baby?" said Polly, a sickly fear stealing over her again when +she saw that the queer girl was alone. + +"Baby? She's in the hermit's hut with Maggie. Don't scold me, Polly. I'm +very sorry I got into a passion." + +Polly pushed Flower's fingers a little away. + +"I don't want to be angry," she said. "I've been asking God to keep me +from being angry. I did wrong myself, I did very wrong, only you did +worse; you did worse than I did, Flower." + +"I don't see that at all. At any rate, I have said I am sorry. No one is +expected to beg pardon twice. How is it you are out here, lying on the +moor, Polly? Are you mad?" + +"No. I came out to look for baby, and for you." + +"But why are you here? You could not find us in that lazy fashion." + +"Look at my foot; the moonlight shines on it. See, it is twisted all +round. I fell from a height and hurt myself. I have been lying here for +hours." + +"Poor Polly! I am really sorry. I once strained my foot like that. The +pain was very bad--very, very bad. Mother kept my foot on her knee all +night; she bathed it all night long; in the morning it was better." + +"Please, Flower, don't mind about my foot now. Tell me about baby. Is +she ill? Have you injured her?" + +"I don't know. I suppose I did wrong to take her out like that. I said +before, I was sorry. I was frightened about her, awfully frightened, +until Maggie came in. I was really afraid baby was dead. I don't want to +speak of it. It wasn't true. Don't look at me like that. Maggie came, +and said that little Pearl lived. I was so relieved that I kissed +Maggie, yes, actually, although she is only a kitchen-maid. Maggie got a +warm bath ready, and put baby in, and when I left the hut she was sound +asleep. Maggie knew exactly what to do for her. Fancy my kissing her, +although she is only a kitchen-maid!" + +"She is the dearest girl in the world!" said Polly. "I think she is +noble. Think of her going to the hermit's hut, and finding baby, and +saving baby's life. Oh, she is the noblest girl in the world, miles and +miles above you and me!" + +"You can speak for yourself. I said she behaved very well. It is +unnecessary to compare her to people in a different rank of life. Now, +do you think you can lean on me, and so get back to Sleepy Hollow?" + +"No, Flower. I cannot possibly stir. Look at my foot; it is twisted the +wrong way." + +"Then I must leave you, for Maggie has sent me in a great hurry to get +milk, and comforts of all sorts, for baby." + +"Please don't stay an instant. Run, Flower. Why did you stay talking so +long? If father is in the house, you can tell him, and he will come, I +know, and carry me home. But, oh! get everything that is wanted for baby +first of all. I am not of the smallest consequence compared to baby. Do +run, Flower; do be quick. It frets me so awfully to see you lingering +here when baby wants her comforts." + +"I shan't be long," said Flower. She gathered up her skirts, and sped +down the path, and Polly gave a sigh of real relief. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +LOOKING AT HERSELF. + + +That night, which was long remembered in the annals of the Maybright +family as one of the dreariest and most terrible they had ever passed +through, came to an end at last. With the early dawn Polly was brought +home, and about the same time Nurse and Maggie reappeared with baby on +the scene. + +Flower, after she had briefly told her tidings, went straight up to her +own room, where she locked the door, and remained deaf to all entreaties +on David's part that he might come in and console her. + +"She's always dreadful after she has had a real bad passion," he +explained to Fly, who was following him about like a little ghost. "I +wish she would let me in. She spends herself so when she is in a passion +that she is quite weak afterwards. She ought to have a cup of tea; I +know she ought." + +But it was in vain that David knocked, and that little Fly herself, even +though she felt that she hated Flower, brought the tea. There was no +sound at the other side of the locked door, and after a time the anxious +watchers went away. + +At that moment, however, had anybody been outside, they might have seen +pressed against the window-pane in that same room a pale but eager face. +Had they looked, too, they might have wondered at the hard lines round +the young, finely-cut lips, and yet the eager, pleading watching in the +eyes. + +There was a stir in the distance--the far-off sound of wheels. Flower +started to her feet, slipped the bolt of her door, ran downstairs, and +was off and away to meet the covered carriage which was bringing baby +home. + +She called to George, who was driving it, to stop. She got in, and +seated herself beside Nurse and baby. + +"How is she? Will she live?" she asked, her voice trembling. + +"God grant it!" replied the Nurse. "What are you doing, Miss Flower? No, +you shan't touch her." + +"I must! Give her to me this moment. There is Dr. Maybright. Give me +baby this moment. I must, I _will_, have her!" + +She almost snatched the little creature out of Nurse's astonished arms, +and as the carriage drew up at the entrance steps sprang out, and put +the baby into Dr. Maybright's arms. + +"There!" she said; "I took her away, but I give her back. I was in a +passion and angry when I took her away; now I repent, and am sorry, and +I give her back to you? Don't you see, I can't do more than give her +back to you? That is our way out in Victoria. Don't you slow English +people understand? I was angry; now I am sorry. Why do you all stand +round and stare at me like that? Can anybody be more than sorry, or do +more than give back what they took?" + +"It is sometimes impossible to give back what we took away, Flower," +replied the Doctor, very gravely. + +He was standing in the midst of his children; his face was white; his +eyes had a strained look in them; the strong hands with which he clasped +little Pearl trembled. He did not look again at Flower, who shrank away +as if she had received a blow, and crept upstairs. + +For the rest of the day she was lost sight of; there was a great deal of +commotion and excitement. Polly, when she was brought home, was +sufficiently ill and suffering to require the presence of a doctor; +little Pearl showed symptoms of cold, and for her, too, a physician +prescribed. + +Why not Dr. Maybright? The children were not accustomed to strange faces +and unfamiliar voices when they were ill or in pain. Polly had a curious +feeling when the new doctor came to see her; he prescribed and went +away. Polly wondered if the world was coming to an end; she was in +greater pain than she had ever endured in her life, and yet she felt +quiet and peaceful. Had she gone up a step or two of the mountain she so +longed to climb? Did she hear the words of her mother's favorite song, +and was a Guide--_the_ Guide--holding her childish hand? + +The hour of the long day passed somehow. + +If there was calm in Polly's room, and despair more or less in poor +Flower's, the rest of the house was kept in a state of constant +excitement. The same doctor came back again; doors were shut and opened +quickly; people whispered in the corridors. As the hours flew on, no one +thought of Flower in her enforced captivity, and even Polly, but for +Maggie's ceaseless devotion, might have fared badly. + +All day Flower Dalrymple remained in her room. She was forgotten at +meal-times. Had David been at home, this would not have been the case; +but Helen had sent David and her own little brothers to spend the day at +Mrs. Jones's farm. Even the wildest spirits can be tamed and brought to +submission by the wonderful power of hunger, and so it came to pass that +in the evening a disheveled-looking girl opened the door of her pretty +room over the porch, and slipped along the passages and downstairs. +Flower went straight to the dining-room; she intended to provide herself +with bread and any other food she could find, then to return to her +solitary musings. She thought herself extremely neglected, and the +repentance and sense of shame which she had more or less experienced in +the morning and the memory of Dr. Maybright's words and the look in has +grave eyes had faded under a feeling of being unloved, forsaken, +forgotten. Even David had never come near her--David, who lived for +her. Was she not his queen as well as sister? Was he not her dutiful +subject as well as her little brother? + +All the long day that Flower had spent in solitude her thoughts grew +more and more bitter, and only hunger made her now forsake her room. She +went into the dining-room; it was a long, low room, almost entirely +lined with oak. There was a white cloth on the long center table, in the +middle of which a lamp burnt dimly; the French windows were open; the +blinds were not drawn down. As Flower opened the door, a strong cold +breeze caused the lamp to flare up and smoke, the curtains to shake, and +a child to move in a restless, fretful fashion on her chair. The child +was Firefly; her eyes were so swollen with crying that they were almost +invisible under their heavy red lids; her hair was tossed; the rest of +her little thin face was ghastly pale. + +"Is that you, Flower?" she exclaimed. "Are you going to stay here? If +you are, I'll go away." + +"What do you mean?" said Flower. "_You_ go away? You can go or stay, +just as you please. I have come here because I want some food, and +because I've been shamefully neglected and starved all day. Ring the +bell, please, Fly. I really must order up something to eat." + +Fly rose from her chair. She had long, lanky legs and very short +petticoats, and as she stood half leaning against the wall, she looked +so forlorn, pathetic, and yet comical, that Flower, notwithstanding her +own anger and distress, could not help bursting out laughing. + +"What is the matter?" she said. "What an extraordinary little being you +are! You look at me as if you were quite afraid of me. For pity's sake, +child, don't stare at me in that grewsome fashion. Ring the bell, as I +tell you, and then if you please you can leave the room." + +There was a very deep leather arm-chair near the fireplace. Into this +now Flower sank. She leant her head comfortably against its cushions, +and gazed at Firefly with a slightly sarcastic expression. + +"Then you don't know!" said Fly, suddenly. "You sit there and look at +me, and you talk of eating, as if any one could eat. You don't know. You +wouldn't sit there like that if you really knew." + +"I think you are the stupidest little creature I ever met!" responded +Flower. "I'm to know something, and it's wonderful that I care to eat. I +tell you, child, I haven't touched food all day, and I'm starving. +What's the matter? Speak! I'll slap you if you don't." + +"There's bread on the sideboard," said Fly. "I'm sorry you're starving. +It's only that father is ill; that--that he's very ill. I don't suppose +it is anything to you, or you wouldn't have done it." + +"Give me that bread," said Flower. She turned very white, snatched a +piece out of Fly's hand, and put it to her lips. She did not swallow it, +however. A lump seemed to rise in her throat. + +"I'm faint for want of food," she said in a minute. "I'd like some wine. +If David was here, he'd give it to me. What's that about your father? +Ill? He was quite well this morning; he spoke to me." + +She shivered. + +"I'm awfully faint," she said in a moment. "Please, Fly, be merciful. +Give me half a glass of sherry." + +Fly started, rushed to the sideboard, poured a little wine into a glass, +and brought it to Flower. + +"There!" she said in a cold though broken-hearted voice. "But you +needn't faint; he's not your father; you wouldn't have done it if he was +your father." + +Flower tossed off the wine. + +"I'm better now," she said. + +Then she rose from the deep arm-chair, stood up, and put her two hands +on Fly's shoulder. + +"What have I done? What do you accuse me of?" + +"Don't! You hurt me, Flower; your hands are so hard." + +"I'll take them off. What have I done?" + +"We are awfully sorry you came here. We all are; we all are." + +"Yes? you can be sorry or glad, just as you please! What have I done?" + +"You have made father, our own father--you have made him ill. The +doctor thinks perhaps he'll die, and in any case he will be blind." + +"What horrid things you say, child! _I_ haven't done this." + +"Yes. Father was out all last night. You took baby away, and he went to +look for her, and he wasn't well before, and he got a chill. It was a +bad chill, and he has been ill all day. You did it, but he wasn't your +father. We are all so dreadfully sorry that you came here." + +Flower's hands dropped to her sides. Her eyes curiously dilated, looked +past Fly, gazing so intently at something which her imagination conjured +up that the child glanced in a frightened way over her shoulder. + +"What's the matter, Flower? What are you looking at?" + +"Myself." + +"But you can't see yourself." + +"I can. Never mind. Is this true what you have been telling me?" + +"Yes, it's quite true. I wish it was a dream, and I might wake up out of +it." + +"And you all put this thing at my door?" + +"Yes, of course. Dr. Strong said--Dr. Strong has been here twice this +evening--he said it was because of last night." + +"_Sometimes we can never give back what we take away._" These few words +came back to Flower now. + +"And you all hate me?" she said, after a pause. + +"We don't love you, Flower; how could we?" + +"You hate me?" + +"I don't know. Father wouldn't like us to hate anybody." + +"Where's Helen?" + +"She's in father's room." + +"And Polly?" + +"Polly is in bed. She's ill, too, but not in danger, like father. The +doctor says that Polly is not to know about father for at any rate a +day, so please be careful not to mention this to her, Flower." + +"No fear!" + +"Polly is suffering a good deal, but she's not unhappy, for she doesn't +know about father." + +"Is baby very ill, too?" + +"No. Nurse says that baby has escaped quite wonderfully. She was +laughing when I saw her last. She has only a little cold." + +"I am glad that I gave her to your father myself," said Flower, in a +queer, still voice. "I'm glad of that. Is David anywhere about?" + +"No. He's at the farm. He's to sleep there to-night with Bob and Bunny, +for there mustn't be a stir of noise in the house." + +"Well, well, I'd have liked to say good-by to David. You're quite sure, +Fly, that you all think it was _I_ made your father ill?" + +"Why, of course. You know it was." + +"Yes, I know. Good-by, Fly." + +"Good-night, you mean. Don't you want something to eat?" + +"No. I'm not hungry now. It isn't good-night; it's good-by." + +Flower walked slowly down the long, low, dark room, opened the door, +shut it after her, and disappeared. + +Fly stood for a moment in an indifferent attitude at the table. She was +relieved that Flower had at last left her, and took no notice of her +words. + +Flower went back to her room. Again she shut and locked her door. The +queer mood which had been on her all day, half repentance, half +petulance, had completely changed. It takes a great deal to make some +people repent, but Flower Dalrymple was now indeed and in truth facing +the consequences of her own actions. The words she had said to Fly were +quite true. She had looked at herself. Sometimes that sight is very +terrible. Her fingers trembled, her whole body shook, but she did not +take a moment to make up her mind. They all hated her, but not more than +she hated herself. They were quite right to hate her, quite right to +feel horror at her presence. Her mother had often spoken to her of the +consequences of unbridled passion, but no words that her mother could +ever have used came up to the grim reality. Of course, she must go away, +and at once. She sat down on the side of her bed, pressed her hand to +her forehead, and reflected. In the starved state she was in, the little +drop of wine she had taken had brought on a violent headache. For a time +she found it difficult to collect her thoughts. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND. + + +Flower quite made up her mind to go away again. Her mood, however, had +completely changed. She was no longer in a passion; on the contrary, she +felt stricken and wounded. She would go away now to hide herself, +because her face, her form, the sound of her step, the echo of her +voice, must be painful to those whom she had injured. She shuddered as +she recalled Firefly's sad words: + +"Father says it is wrong to hate any one, but, of course, we cannot love +you." + +She felt that she could never look Polly in the face again, that Helen's +gentle smile would be torture to her. Oh, of course she must go away; +she must go to-night. + +She was very tired, for she had really scarcely rested since her fit of +mad passion, and the previous night she had never gone to bed. Still all +this mattered nothing. There was a beating in her heart, there was a +burning sting of remorse awakened within her, which made even the +thought of rest impossible. + +Flower was a very wild and untaught creature; her ideas of right and +wrong were of the crudest. It seemed to her now that the only right +thing was to run away. + +When the house was quiet, she once more opened her little cabinet, and +took from thence the last great treasure which it contained. It was one +solitary splendid unset diamond. She had not the least idea of its +value, but she knew that it would probably fetch a pound or two. She had +not the least notion of the value of money or of the preciousness of the +gem which she held in her hand, but she thought it likely that it would +supply her immediate needs. + +The house was quite still now. She took off her green cloth dress, put +on a very plain one of black cashmere, slipped a little velvet cap on +her head, wrapped a long white shawl round her, and thus equipped opened +her door, and went downstairs. + +She was startled at the foot of the stairs to encounter Maggie. Maggie +was coming slowly upwards as Flower descended, and the two girls paused +to look at one another. The lamps in the passages were turned low, and +Maggie held a candle above her head; its light fell full on Flower. + +"You mustn't go to Miss Polly on no account, Miss Flower," said Maggie, +adopting the somewhat peremptory manner she had already used to Flower +in the hermit's hut. "Miss Polly is not to be frightened or put out in +any way, leastways not to-night." + +"You mean that you think I would tell her about Dr. Maybright?" + +"Perhaps you would, Miss; you're none too sensible." + +Flower was too crushed even to reply to this uncomplimentary speech. +After a pause, she said: + +"I'm not going to Polly. I'm going away. Maggie, is it true that +the--that Dr. Maybright is very ill?" + +"Yes, Miss, the Doctor's despert bad." + +Maggie's face worked; her candle shook; she put up her other hand to +wipe away the fast-flowing tears. + +"Oh, don't cry!" said Flower, stamping her foot impatiently. "Tears do +no good, and it wasn't you who did it." + +"No, Miss, no, Miss; that's a bit of a comfort. I wouldn't be you, Miss +Flower, for all the wide world. Well, I must go now; I'm a-sleeping in +Miss Polly's room to-night, Miss." + +"Why, is Polly ill, too?" + +"Only her foot's bad. I mustn't stay, really, Miss Flower." + +"Look here," said Flower, struck by a sudden thought, "before you go +tell me something. Your mother lives in the village, does she not?" + +"Why, yes, Miss, just in the main street, down round by the corner. +There's the baker's shop and the butcher's, and you turn round a sharp +corner, and mother's cottage is by your side." + +"I've a fancy to go and see her. Good-night." + +"But not at this hour, surely, Miss?" + +"Why not? I was out later last night." + +"That's true. Well, I must go to Miss Polly now. Don't you make any +noise when you're coming in, Miss! Oh, my word!" continued Maggie to +herself, "what can Miss Flower want with mother? Well, she is a +contrairy young lady mischievous, and all that, and hasn't she wrought a +sight of harm in this yer house! But, for all that, mother'll be mighty +took up with her, for she's all for romance, mother is, and Miss +Flower's very uncommon. Well, it ain't nought to do with me, and I'll +take care to tell no tales to Miss Polly, poor dear." + +The night was still and calm; the stars shone peacefully; the wind, +which had come in gusts earlier in the evening, had died down. It took +Flower a very few minutes to reach the village, and she wasn't long in +discovering Mrs. Ricketts' humble abode. + +That good woman had long retired to rest, but Flower's peremptory +summons on the door soon caused a night-capped head to protrude out of a +window, a burst of astonishment to issue from a wonder-struck pair of +lips, and a moment later the young lady was standing by Mrs. Ricketts' +fireside. + +"I'm proud to see you, Miss, and that I will say. Set down, Miss, do +now, and I'll light up the fire in a twinkling." + +"No, you needn't," said Flower. "I'm hot; I'm burning. Feel me; a fire +would drive me wild." + +"To be sure, so you are, all in a fever like," said Mrs. Ricketts, +laying her rough hand for a moment on Flower's dainty arm. "You'll let +me light up the bit of a paraffin lamp, then, Miss, for it ain't often +as I have the chance of seeing a young lady come all the way from +Australy." + +"You can light the lamp, if you like," said Flower. "And you can stare at +me as much as you please. I'm just like any one else, only wickeder. +I've come to you, Mrs. Ricketts, because you're Maggie's mother, and +Maggie's a good girl, and I thought perhaps you would help me." + +"I'm obligated for the words of praise about my daughter, Miss. Yes, she +don't mean bad, Maggie don't. What can I do to help you, Miss? Anything +in my power you are kindly welcome to." + +"Have you ever seen a diamond, Mrs. Ricketts?" + +"I don't know, I'm sure, Miss." + +"Diamonds are very valuable stones, you know." + +"Maybe, Miss. They ain't in my way. I wish you'd let me light you a bit +of fire, Miss Flower. You'll have the chills presently, Miss, for you're +all of a burning fever now." + +"You can do anything you like in the way of fire by-and-by. I have a +diamond here. Shall I show it to you?" + +"Oh, law, Miss, I'm sure you are condescending." + +"Come over close to the paraffin lamp. Now you shall see. Doesn't it +sparkle!" + +Mrs. Ricketts dropped a curtsey to the gem, which, unpolished as it was, +cast forth strange reflections, giving her, as she afterwards explained, +a "queer feel" and a sense of chill down the marrow of her back. + +"This is very valuable," said Flower. "I don't know what it is worth, +but my father gave it to my mother, and she gave it to me. She said it +would be well for me to have it in case of emergency. Emergency has +come, and I want to sell this stone. It is very likely that whoever buys +it from me will become rich. Would you like it? You shall have it for +what money you have in the house." + +"Oh, law, Miss! but I'm a very poor woman, Miss." + +Mrs. Ricketts curtseyed again, and drew closer. "For all the world, it +looks as if it were alive, Miss." + +"All valuable diamonds look as if they lived. If this were cut and +polished it would dazzle you." + +"And if I had it, I could sell it for a good bit of money?" + +"I am sure you could. I don't know for how much, but for more than I am +likely to get from you." + +"I'd like to pay Miss Polly back that pound as Maggie took from her." + +"Don't worry me about your debts. Will you have this beautiful uncut +diamond for the money you have in the house?" + +Mrs. Ricketts did not reply for a moment. + +"I have nine shillings and fourpence-halfpenny," she said at last, "and +to-morrow is rent day. Rent will be eight shillings; that leaves me +one-and-fourpence-half penny for food. Ef I give you all my money, Miss, +how am I to pay rent? And how are the children to have food to-morrow?" + +"But you can sell the diamond. Why are you so dreadfully stupid? You can +sell the diamond for one, two, or perhaps three pounds. Then how rich +you will be." + +"Oh, Miss! there's no one in this yer village 'ud give away good money +for a bit of a stone like that; they'd know better. My word! it do send +out a sort of a flame, though; it's wondrous to look upon!" + +"People will buy it from you in a town. Go to the nearest town, take it +to a jeweler, and see how rich you will be when you come out of his +shop. There, I will give it to you for your nine-and-fourpence-half +penny." + +Flower laid the diamond in the woman's hand. + +"It seems to burn me like," she said. But all the same her fingers +closed over it, and a look of greed and satisfaction filled her face. + +"I don't know if I'm a-doin' right," she said, "for perhaps this ain't +worth sixpence, and then where's the rent and the food? But, all the +same, I don't like to say no to a pretty lady when she's in trouble. Here's +the nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny, Miss. I earned it bit by bit by washing +the neighbors' clothes; it wasn't easy come by; there's labor in it, and +aches and dead-tiredness about it. You take it, Miss. I only trust the +diamond will repay what I loses on that nine-and-fourpence-half penny." + +Flower handled the money as if she thought it dirty. + +Without a word she slipped it into the pocket of her dress. + +"I am going away," she said. "They are angry with me at Sleepy Hollow. I +have done wrong. I am not a bit surprised. I'm going away, so as not to +cause them any more trouble." + +"Oh, law, now, Miss! but they'll fret to part with you." + +"No they won't. Anyhow, it isn't your affair. I'm going away as soon as +I possibly can. Can you tell me where the nearest railway station is?" + +"There's none closer than Everton, and that's a matter of five mile from +here." + +"I must get there as quickly as possible. What road shall I take?" + +"Do you think, Miss, I'd let a pretty young lady like you trape the +lanes in the dead of night? No, no; carrier goes between two and three +in the morning. You might go with him, if you must go." + +"That is a good thought. Where does the carrier live?" + +"Three doors from here. I'll run round presently and tell him to call." + +"Thank you. Do you think nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny will take me to +Bath?" + +"To Bath, Miss? It might, if you condescended to third class." + +"Third class will do very well. Did you ever hear Polly Maybright speak +of an aunt of hers, a Mrs. Cameron?" + +Mrs. Ricketts, whose back was half turned to Flower while she shut +and locked the box out of which she had taken the precious +nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny, now sprang to her feet, and began to speak +in a tone of great excitement. + +"Did I hear of her?" she exclaimed. "Did I hear of the woman--for lady +she ain't--what turned my Maggie out of her good place, and near broke +Miss Polly's heart? Don't mention Mrs. Cameron, please, Miss Flower, for +talk of her I won't; set eyes on her I wouldn't, no, not if I was to +receive a pound for it!" + +"You needn't get so excited," said Flower; "you have not got to see +Polly's aunt; only I thought perhaps you could give me her address, for +I am going to her to-morrow." + +"I wouldn't, Miss, if I was you." + +"Yes, you would if you were me. What is Mrs. Cameron's address?" + +"I don't know as I can rightly tell you, Miss." + +"Yes, you must. I see you know it quite well." + +"Well then, well then--you won't like her a bit, Miss Flower." + +"What's her address?" + +"Jasper Street; I think it's Jasper Street." + +"And the number? She doesn't live in the whole of Jasper Street." + +"Now, was it a one and a six or a one and a seven?" queried Mrs. +Ricketts. "Oh, Miss! if I was you, I wouldn't go near her; but I think +her number is a one and a seven." + +"Seventeen, you mean." + +"Yes, that's it; I was never great at counting." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +RELICS AND A WELCOME. + + +Mrs. Cameron's house in Bath was decidedly old-fashioned. It was a +large, solemn, handsome mansion; its windows shone from constant +cleaning; its paint was always fresh, its Venetian blinds in perfect +order. + +When a certain wild, untidy, almost disreputable-looking girl ran up its +snow-white steps, and rang its highly polished brass bell, the neat +parlor maid who answered her summons stared at her, and doubted a good +deal if Mrs. Cameron could see her. + +"You had better step into the hall for a moment," said the maidservant, +"and I'll inquire if my missis is at leisure; but if it's the new +housemaid's place you've come after----" + +Flower gasped; she drew herself up, raised her hand, and took off her +small black velvet cap. + +"You forget yourself!" she said, with a haughtiness which did not ill +become her, notwithstanding her untidy and dishevelled state. "My name +is Flower Dalrymple, and I have come from Sleepy Hollow. Please let your +mistress know directly." + +The parlor maid, who saw her mistake, was profuse in apologies. + +She showed Flower into a dismal-looking dining room, and went upstairs. + +"Who is it, Ann?" asked an anxious voice as she prepared to ascend the +richly-carpeted stairs. + +A door was opened at the end of the passage, and a fusty, dusty-looking +little man put in an appearance. + +"Who is it, Ann? Any one for me?" + +"A young lady as wants to see the missis, sir. Oh, Mr. Cameron! what a +deal of dust you has brought out into the 'all!" + +The little man looked meekly down at his dusty garments. + +"I have just been unpacking my last crate of curiosities from China, +Ann. Where is the young lady? Perhaps she would like to see the relics." + +"No, sir, that I'm sure she wouldn't; she's all blown and spent like. +She's for all the world like a relic herself." + +Ann tripped lightly upstairs, and Mr. Cameron, pushing his spectacles +high up on his bald forehead, looked with an anxious glance to right and +left. Then very quickly on tiptoe he crossed the hall, opened the +dining-room door, and went in. + +"How are you, young lady? If you are very quick, I can get you into my +sanctum sanctorum. I am just unpacking Chinese relics. I trust, I hope, +you are fond of relics." + +Flower started to her feet. + +"I thought, I certainly thought, Polly said _Mrs._ Cameron," she +remarked. "I don't think I shall be at all afraid to live with you. I +don't exactly know what Chinese relics are, but I should love to see +them." + +"Then quick, my dear, quick! We haven't a minute to spare. She's sure to +be down in a jiffy. Now then, step on tiptoe across the hall. Ann has +the quickest ears, and she invariably reports. She's not a nice girl, +Ann isn't. She hasn't the smallest taste for relics. My dear, there's an +education in this room, but no one, no one who comes to the house, cares +to receive it." + +While the little man was talking, he was rushing across the wide hall, +and down a long passage, Flower's hand clasped in his. Finally he pushed +open a baize-lined door, hastily admitted himself and Flower, and closed +it behind them. The sanctum sanctorum was small, stuffy, dusty, dirty. +There were several chairs, but they were all piled with relics, two or +three tables were also crammed with tokens of the past. Flower was very +weary, the dust and dirt made her sneeze, and she looked longingly for +even the smallest corner of a chair on which to seat herself. + +"I do want some breakfast so badly," she began. + +"Breakfast! My love, you shall have it presently. Now then, we'll begin. +This case that I have just unpacked contains teeth and a small portion +of a jawbone. Ah! hark! what is that? She is coming already! Will that +woman never leave me in peace? My love, the object of my life, the one +object of my whole life, has been to benefit and educate the young. I +thought at last I had found a pupil, but, ah, I fear she is very angry!" + +The sound of a sharp voice was heard echoing down the stairs and along +the passage, a sharp, high-pitched voice, accompanied by the sharper, +shriller barking of a small dog. + +"Zeb! I say, Zeb! Zebedee, if you have taken that young girl into your +sanctum, I desire you to send her out this moment." + +The little man's face grew pale; he pushed his spectacles still higher +on his forehead. + +"There, my love, do you hear her? I did my best for you. I was beginning +your education." + +"Zeb! Zeb! Open the door this minute," was shouted outside. + +"You'll remember, my love, to your dying day, that I showed you three +teeth and the bit of jawbone of a Chinaman who died a thousand years +ago." + +"Zeb!" thundered the voice. + +"Yap! yap! yap!" barked the small dog. + +"You must go, my dear. She's a powerful woman. She always has her way. +There, let me push you out. I wouldn't have her catch sight of me at +this moment for fifty pounds." + +The green baize door was opened a tiny bit, a violent shove was +administered to Flower's back, and she found herself in the arms of Mrs. +Cameron, and in extreme danger of having her nose bitten off by the +infuriated Scorpion. + +"Just like Zebedee!" exclaimed the good lady. "Always struggling to +impart the dry bones of obsolete learning to the young! Come this way, +Miss--Miss--what's your name?" + +"Dalrymple--Flower Dalrymple." + +"An outlandish title, worthy of Sleepy Hollow. I have not an idea who +you are, but come into the dining-room." + +"Might I---- might I have a little breakfast?" + +"Bless me, the child looks as if she were going to faint! Ann, Ann, I +say! Down, Scorpion! You shall have no cream if you bark any more. Ann, +bring half a glass of port wine over here, and make some breakfast for +Miss--Miss Rymple as fast as you can." + +"_Dal_rymple, please!" + +"Don't worry me, child. I can't get my tongue round long names. Now, +what is it you are called? Daisy? What in the world have you come to me +for, Daisy?" + +"I'm Flower----" + +"Well, and isn't Daisy a flower? Now then, Daisy Rymple, tell your story +as quickly as possible. I don't mind giving you breakfast, but I'm as +busy as possible to-day. I've six committee meetings on between now and +two o'clock. Say your say, Daisy, and then you can go." + +"But I've come to stay." + +"To _stay_? Good gracious! Scorpion, down, sir! Now, young lady, have +you or have you not taken leave of your senses?" + +"No, really. May I tell you my story?" + +"If you take ten minutes over it; I won't give you longer time." + +"I'll try to get it into ten minutes. I'm an Australian, and so is +David. David is my brother. We came over in the _Australasia_ about six +weeks ago. Dr. Maybright met us in London, and took us down to Sleepy +Hollow." + +"Bless the man!--just like him. Had he any responsible matron or +spinster in the house, child?" + +"I don't know; I don't think so. There was Helen and Polly and----" + +"I don't want to hear about Polly! Go on; your ten minutes will soon be +up. Go on." + +"A couple of days ago we went on a picnic--I have a way of getting into +awful passions--and Polly--Polly vexed me." + +"Oh, she vexed you? You're not the first that young miss has vexed, I +can tell you." + +"She vexed me; I oughtn't to have minded; I got into a passion; I felt +awful; I ran away with baby." + +"Goodness me! what is the world coming to? You don't mean to say you +have dared to bring the infant here, Daisy?" + +"No, no. I ran away with her on to the moors. I was so frightened, for I +thought baby had died. Then Maggie came, and she saved her life, and she +was brought home again." + +"That's a good thing; but I can't see why you are troubling me with this +story." + +"Yesterday morning I gave baby back to Dr. Maybright. He's not like +other people; he looked at me, and his look pierced my heart. He said +something, too, and then for the first time I began to be really, really +sorry. I went up to my room; I stayed there alone all day; I was +miserable." + +"Served you right if you were, Daisy." + +"In the evening I was so hungry, I went down for food. I met Firefly; +she told me the worst." + +"Then the baby died? You really are an awful girl, Daisy Rymple." + +"No. The baby is pretty well, and Polly, who sprained her foot running +after me, is pretty well; but it's--it's Dr. Maybright--the best man I +ever met--a man who could have helped me and made me a--a good +girl--he's very, very ill, and they think he may die. He wasn't strong, +and he was out all night looking for baby and me, and he got a bad +chill, and he--he may be dead now. It was my doing; Fly told me so." + +Flower laid her head on the table; her long sustained fortitude gave +way; she sobbed violently. + +Her tears stained Mrs. Cameron's snowy table-linen; her head was pressed +down on her hands; her face was hidden. She was impervious in her woe to +any angry words or to the furious barking of a small dog. + +At last a succession of violent shakes recalled her to herself. + +"_Will_ you sit up?--spoiling my damask and shedding tears into the +excellent coffee I have made for you. Ah, that's better; now I can see +your face. Don't you know that you are a very naughty, dangerous sort of +girl?" + +"Yes, I know that quite well. Mother always said that if I didn't check +my passion I'd do great mischief some day." + +"And right she was. I don't suppose the table-linen will ever get over +those coffee stains mixed with tears. Now, have the goodness to tell me, +Daisy, or Ivy, or whatever you are called, why you have come to tell +this miserable, disgraceful story to me." + +"Fly said they none of them could love me now." + +"I should think not, indeed! No one will love such a naughty girl. What +have you come to me for?" + +"I thought I could stay with you for a little, until there was another +home found for me." + +"Oh, ah! Now at last we have come to the bottom of the mystery. And I +suppose you thought I'd pet you and make much of you?" + +"I didn't. I thought you'd scold me and be very cross. I came to you as +a punishment, for Polly always said you were the crossest woman she ever +met." + +"Polly said that? Humph! Now eat up your breakfast quickly, Daisy. I'm +going out. Don't stir from this room until I come back." + +Mrs. Cameron, who had come downstairs in her bonnet, slammed the +dining-room door after her, walked across the hall, and let herself out. +It did not take her many minutes to reach the telegraph office. From, +there she sent a brief message to Helen Maybright: + +"_Sorry your father is ill. Expect me this evening with Daisy Rymple._" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +VERY ROUGH WEATHER. + + +With all her easy and languishing ways, Flower Dalrymple had often gone +through rough times. Her life in Australia had given to her experiences +both of the extreme of luxury and the extreme of roughing, but never in +the course of her young life did she go through a more uncomfortable +journey than that from Mrs. Cameron's house in Bath to Sleepy Hollow. It +was true that Scorpion, Mrs. Cameron, and Flower, traveled first-class; +it was true also that where it was necessary for them to drive the best +carriages to be procured were at their service; but, as on all and every +occasion Scorpion was king of the ceremonies these arrangements did not +add to Flower's comfort. Mrs. Cameron, who felt seriously angry with the +young girl, addressed all her conversation to the dog, and as the dog +elected to sit on Flower's lap, and snapped and snarled whenever she +moved, and as Mrs. Cameron's words were mostly directed through the +medium of Scorpion at her, her position was not an agreeable one. + +"Ah-ha, my dear doggie!" said the good lady. "Somebody has come to the +wrong box, has she not? Somebody thought I would take her in, and be +kind to her, and pet her, and give her your cream, did she not? But no +one shall have my doggie's cream; no, that they shan't!" + +"Mrs. Cameron," said Flower, when these particularly clever and lucid +remarks had continued for nearly an hour, "may I open the window of the +carriage at this side? I'm quite stifling." + +Mrs. Cameron laid a firm, fat hand upon the window cord, and bent again +over the pampered Scorpion. + +"And is my doggie's asthma not to be considered for the sake of somebody +who ought not to be here, who was never invited nor wished for, and is +now to be returned like a bad penny to where she came from? Is my own +dearest little dog to suffer for such a person's whims? Oh, fie! oh, +fie! Well, come here my Scorpion; your mistress won't reject you." + +For Flower, in a fit of ungovernable temper, had suddenly dashed the +petted form of Scorpion to the ground. + +The poor angry girl now buried herself in the farthest corner of the +railway carriage. From there she could hear Mrs. Cameron muttering about +"somebody's" temper, and hoping that "somebody" would get her deserts. + +These remarks, uttered several times, frightened Flower so much that at +last she looked up, and said, in a queer, startled voice: + +"You don't think Dr. Maybright is going to die? You can't be so awfully +wicked as to think that." + +"Oh, we are wicked, are we, Scorpion?" said Mrs. Cameron, her fat hand +gently stroking down Scorpion's smooth fur from tip to tail. "Never +mind, Scorpion, my own; never mind. When the little demon of temper gets +into somebody she isn't quite accountable, is she?" + +Flower wondered if any restraining power would keep her from leaping out +of the window. + +But even the weariest journey comes to an end at last, and twenty-four +hours after she had left Sleepy Hollow, Flower, feeling the most +subdued, the most abject, the most brow-beaten young person in +Christendom, returned to it. Toward the end of the journey she felt +impervious to Mrs. Cameron's sly allusions, and Scorpion growled and +snapped at her in vain. Her whole heart was filled with one +over-powering dread. How should she find the Doctor? Was he better? Was +he worse? Or had all things earthly come to an end for him; and had he +reached a place where even the naughtiest girl in all the world could +vex and trouble him no longer? + +When the hired fly drew up outside the porch, Flower suddenly remembered +her first arrival--the gay "Welcome" which had waved above her head; +the kind, bright young faces that had come out of the darkness to greet +her; the voice of the head of the house, that voice which she was so +soon to learn to love, uttering the cheeriest and heartiest words of +greeting. Now, although Mrs. Cameron pulled the hall-door bell with no +uncertain sound, no one, for a time at least, answered the summons, and +Flower, seizing her opportunity, sprang out of the fly and rushed into +the house. + +The first person she met, the very first, was Polly. Polly was sitting +at the foot of the stairs, all alone. She had seated herself on the +bottom step. Her knees were huddled up almost to her chin. Her face was +white, and bore marks of tears. She scarcely looked up when Flower ran +to her. + +"Polly! Polly! How glad I am you at least are not very ill." + +"Is that you, Flower?" asked Polly. + +She did not seem surprised, or in any way affected. + +"Yes, my leg does still ache very much. But what of that? What of +anything now? He is worse! They have sent for another doctor. The doctor +from London is upstairs; he's with him. I'm waiting here to catch him +when he comes down, for I must know the very worst." + +"The very worst!" echoed Flower in a feeble tone. + +She tumbled down somehow on to the stair beside Polly, and the next +instant her death-like face lay in Polly's lap. + +"Now, my dear, you need not be in the least frightened," said a shrill +voice in Polly's ears. "A most troublesome young person! a most +troublesome! She has just fainted; that's all. Let me fetch a jug of +cold water to pour over her." + +"Is that _you_, Aunt Maria?" said Polly. "Oh, yes, there was a telegram, +but we forgot all about it. And is that Scorpion, and is he going to +bark? But he mustn't! Please kneel down here, Aunt Maria, and hold +Flower's head. Whatever happens, Scorpion mustn't bark. Give him to me!" + +Before Mrs. Cameron had time to utter a word or in any way to +expostulate, she found herself dragged down beside Flower, Flower's head +transferred to her capacious lap, and the precious Scorpion snatched out +of her arms. Polly's firm, muscular young fingers tightly held the dog's +mouth, and in an instant Scorpion and she were out of sight. +Notwithstanding all his fighting and struggling and desperate efforts to +free himself, she succeeded in carrying him to a little deserted summer +pagoda at a distant end of the garden. Here she locked him in, and +allowed him to suffer both cold and hunger for the remainder of the +night. + +There are times when even the most unkind are softened. Mrs. Cameron was +not a sympathetic person. She was a great philanthropist, it is true, +and was much esteemed, especially by those people who did not know her +well. But love, the real name for what the Bible calls charity, seldom +found an entrance into her heart. The creature she devoted most +affection to was Scorpion. But now, as she sat in the still house, which +all the time seemed to throb with a hidden intense life; when she heard +in the far distance doors opening gently and stifled sobs and moans +coming from more than one young throat; when she looked down at the +death-like face of Flower--she really did forget herself, and rose for +once to the occasion. + +Very gently--for she was a strong woman--she lifted Flower, and +carried her into the Doctor's study. There she laid her on a sofa, and +gave her restoratives, and when Flower opened her dazed eyes she spoke +to her more kindly than she had done yet. + +"I have ordered something for you, which you are to take at once," she +said. "Ah! here it is! Thank you, Alice. Now, Daisy, drink this off at +once." + +It was a beaten-up egg in milk and brandy, and when Flower drank it she +felt no longer giddy, and was able to sit up and look around her. + +In the meantime Polly and all the other children remained still as mice +outside the Doctor's door. They had stolen on tiptoe from different +quarters of the old house to this position, and now they stood perfectly +still, not looking at one another or uttering a sound, but with their +eyes fixed with pathetic earnestness and appeal at the closed door. When +would the doctors come out? When would the verdict be given? Minutes +passed. The children found this time of tension an agony. + +"I can't bear it!" sobbed Firefly at last. + +But the others said, "Hush!" so peremptorily, and with such a total +disregard for any one person's special emotions, that the little girl's +hysterical fit was nipped in the bud. + +At last there was a sound of footsteps within the room, and the local +practitioner, accompanied by the great physician from London, opened the +door carefully and came out. + +"Go in and sit with your father," said one of the doctors to Helen. + +Without a word she disappeared into the darkened room, and all the +others, including little Pearl in Nurse's arms, followed the medical men +downstairs. They went into the Doctor's study, where Flower was still +lying very white and faint on the sofa. Fortunately for the peace of the +next quarter of an hour Mrs. Cameron had taken herself off in a vain +search for Scorpion. + +"Now," said Polly, when they were all safely in the room--she took no +notice of Flower; she did not even see her--"now please speak; please +tell us the whole truth at once." + +She went up and laid her hand on the London physician's arm. + +"The whole truth? But I cannot do that, my dear young lady," he said, in +hearty, genial tones. "Bless me!" turning to the other doctor, "do all +these girls and boys belong to Maybright? And so you want the whole +truth, Miss--Miss----" + +"I'm called Polly, sir." + +"The whole truth, Polly? Only God knows that. Your father was in a weak +state of health; he had a shock and a chill. We feared mischief to the +brain. Oh, no, he is by no means out of the wood yet. Still I have hope +of him; I have great hope. What do you say, Strong? Symptoms have +undoubtedly taken a more favorable turn during the last hour or two." + +"I quite agree with you, Sir Andrew," said the local practitioner, with +a profound bow. + +"Then, my dear young lady, my answer to you, to all of you, is that, +although only God knows the whole truth, there is, in my opinion, +considerable hope--yes, considerable. I'll have a word with you in the +other room, Strong. Good-by, children; keep up your spirits. I have +every reason to think well of the change which has set in within the +last hour." + +The moment the doctors left the room Polly looked eagerly round at the +others. + +"Only God knows the truth," she said. "Let us pray to Him this very +minute. Let's get on our knees at once." + +They all did so, and all were silent. + +"What are we to say, Polly?" asked Firefly at last. "I never did 'aloud +prayers' since mother died." + +"Hush! There's the Lord's Prayer," said Polly. "Won't somebody say it? +My voice is choking." + +"I will," said Flower. + +Nobody had noticed her before; now she came forward, knelt down by +Polly's side, and repeated the prayer of prayers in a steady voice. When +it was over, she put up her hands to her face, and remained silent. + +"What are you saying now?" asked Firefly, pulling at her skirt. + +"Something about myself." + +"What is that?" they all asked. + +"I've been the wickedest girl in the whole of England. I have been +asking God to forgive me." + +"Oh, poor Flower!" echoed the children, touched by her dreary, forsaken +aspect. + +Polly put her arms round her and kissed her. + +"We have quite forgiven you, so, of course, God will," she said. + +"How noble you are! Will you be my friend?" + +"Yes, if you want to have me. Oh, children!" continued Polly, "do you +think we can any of us ever do anything naughty again if father gets +better?" + +"He will get better now," said Firefly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. + + +Whether it was the children's faith or the children's prayer, certain it +is that from that moment the alarming symptoms in connection with Dr. +Maybright's illness abated. It was some days before he was pronounced +out of danger, but even that happy hour arrived in due course, and one +by one his children were allowed to come to see him. + +Mrs. Cameron meanwhile arranged matters pretty much as she pleased +downstairs. Helen, who from the first had insisted on nursing her father +herself, had no time to housekeep. Polly's sprained ankle would not get +well in a minute, and, besides, other circumstances had combined to +reduce that young lady's accustomed fire and ardor. Consequently, Mrs. +Cameron had matters all her own way, and there is not the least doubt +that she and Scorpion between them managed to create a good deal of +moral and physical disquietude. + +"Well," she said to herself, "when all is said and done, that poor man +who is on the flat of his back upstairs is my sainted Helen's husband; +and if at such a time as this Maria Cameron should harbor ill-will in +her heart it would but ill become the leader of some of the largest +philanthropic societies in Bath. No, for the present my place is here, +and no black looks, nor surly answers, nor impertinent remarks, will +keep Maria Cameron from doing her duty." + +Accordingly Mrs. Power gave a month's notice, and Alice wept so +profusely that her eyes for the time being were seriously injured. +Scorpion bit the new kitchen-maid Jane twice, who went into hysterics +and expected hydrophobia daily. But notwithstanding these and sundry +other fracases, Mrs. Cameron steadily pursued her way. She looked into +account-books, she interviewed the butcher, she dismissed the baker, she +overhauled the store-room, and after her own fashion--and a +disagreeable fashion it was--did a good deal of indirect service to the +family. + +Flower in particular she followed round so constantly and persistently +that the young girl began to wonder if Mrs. Cameron seriously and really +intended to punish her, by now bereaving her of her senses. + +"I don't think I can stand it much longer," said Flower to Polly. "Last +night I was in bed and asleep when she came in. I was awfully tired, and +had just fallen into my first sleep, when that detestable dog snapped at +my nose. There was Mrs. Cameron standing in the middle of the room with +a lighted candle in her hand. 'Get up,' she said. 'What for?' I asked. +'Get up this minute!' she said, and she stamped her foot. I thought +perhaps she would disturb your father, for my room is not far away from +his, so I tumbled out of bed. 'Now, what is the matter?' I asked. 'The +matter?' said Mrs. Cameron. '_That's_ the matter! and _that's_ the +matter! and _that's_ the matter!' And what do you think? She was +pointing to my stockings and shoes, and my other clothes. I always do +leave them in a little heap in the middle of the floor; they're +perfectly comfortable there, and it doesn't injure them in the least. +Well! that awful woman woke me out of my sleep to put them by. She stood +over me, and made me fold the clothes up, and shake out the stockings, +and put the shoes under a chair, and all the time that fiendish dog was +snapping at my heels. Oh, it's intolerable! I'll be in a lunatic asylum +if this goes on much longer!" + +Polly laughed; she could not help it; and Firefly and David, who were +both listening attentively, glanced significantly at one another. + +The next morning, very, very early, Firefly was awakened by a bump. She +sat up, rubbed her eyes, and murmured, "All right!" under her breath. + +"Put something on, Fly, and be quick," whispered David's voice from the +door. + +Firefly soon tumbled into a warm frock, a thick outdoor jacket, and a +little fur cap; her shoes and stockings were tumbled on anyhow. Holding +her jacket together--for she was in too great a hurry to fasten +it--she joined David. + +"I did it last night," he said; "it's a large hole; he'll never be +discovered there. And now the thing is to get him." + +"Oh, Dave, how will you manage that?" + +"Trust me, Fly. Even if I do run a risk, I don't care. Anything is +better than the chance of Flower getting into another of her passions." + +"Oh, anything, of course," said Fly. "Are you going to kill him, Dave?" + +"No. The hole is big; he can move about in it. What I thought of was +this--we'd sell him." + +"Sell him? But he isn't ours." + +"No matter! He's a public nuisance, and he must be got rid of. There are +often men wandering on the moor who would be glad to buy a small dog +like Scorpion. They'd very likely give us a shilling for him. Then we'd +drop the shilling into Mrs. Cameron's purse. Don't you see? She'd never +know how it got there. Then, you understand, it would really have been +Mrs. Cameron who sold Scorpion." + +"Oh, delicious!" exclaimed Fly. "She'd very likely spend the money on +postage stamps to send round begging charity letters." + +"So Scorpion would have done good in the end," propounded David. "But +come along now, Fly. The difficult thing is to catch the little brute." + +It was still very early in the morning, and the corridors and passages +were quite dark. David and Fly, however, could feel their way about like +little mice, and they soon found themselves outside the door of the +green room, which was devoted to Mrs. Cameron. + +"Do you feel this?" said David, putting out his hand and touching Fly. +"This is a long towel; I'm winding part of it round my hand and arm. I +don't want to get hydrophobia, like poor Jane. Now, I'm going to creep +into Mrs. Cameron's room so quietly, that even Scorpion won't wake. I +learned how to do that from the black people in Australia. You may stand +there, Fly, but you won't hear even a pin fall till I come back with +Scorpion." + +"If I don't hear, I feel," replied Fly. "My heart does thump so. I'm +just awfully excited. Don't be very long away, Dave." + +By this time David had managed to unhasp the door. He pushed it open a +few inches, and then lay flat down on his face and hands. The next +moment he had disappeared into the room, and all was profoundly still. +Fly could hear through the partly open door the gentle and regularly +kept-up sound of a duet of snoring. After three or four minutes the duet +became a solo. Still there was no other sound, not a gasp, not even the +pretense of a bark. More minutes passed by. Had David gone to sleep on +the floor? Was Scorpion dead that he had ceased to snore? + +These alarming thoughts had scarcely passed through her mind before +David rejoined her. + +"He's wrapped up in this towel," he said. "He's kicking with his hind +legs, but he can't get a squeak out; now come along." + +Too careless and happy in the success of their enterprise even to +trouble to shut Mrs. Cameron's door, the two children rushed downstairs +and out of the house. They effected their exit easily by opening the +study window. In a moment or two they were in the shrubbery. + +"The hole isn't here," said David. "Somebody might find him here and +bring him back, and that would never do. Do you remember Farmer Long's +six-acre field?" + +"Where he keeps the bull?" exclaimed Fly. "You haven't made the hole +there, Dave?" + +"Yes, I have, in one corner! It's the best place in all the world, for +not a soul will dare to come near the field while the bull is there. You +needn't be frightened, Fly! He's always taken home at night! He's not +there now. But don't you see how he'll guard Scorpion all day? Even Mrs. +Cameron won't dare to go near the field while the bull is there." + +"I see!" responded Fly, in an appreciative voice. "You're a very clever +boy, Dave. Now let's come quick and pop him into the hole." + +Farmer Long's six-acre field was nearly a quarter of a mile away, but +the children reached it in good time, and Fly looked down with interest +on the scene of David's excavations. The hole, which must have given the +little boy considerable labor, was nearly three feet deep, and about a +foot wide. In the bottom lay a large beef bone. + +"He won't like it much!" said David. "His teeth aren't good; he can only +eat chicken bones, but hunger will make him nibble it by-and-by. Now, +Fly, will you go behind that furze bush and bring me a square, flat +board, which you will find there?" + +"What a funny board!" said Fly, returning in a moment. "It's all over +little square holes." + +"Those are for him to breathe through," said David. "Now, then, master, +here you go! You won't annoy any one in particular here, unless, +perhaps, you interfere with Mr. Bull's arrangements. Hold the board over +the top of the hole, so, Fly. Now then, I hope you'll enjoy yourself, my +dear amiable little friend." + +The bandage which firmly bound Scorpion's mouth was removed. He was +popped into the hole, and the wooden cover made fast over the top. The +children went home, vowing eternal secrecy, which not even tortures +should wring from them. + +At breakfast that morning Mrs. Cameron appeared late on the scene. Her +eyes were red with weeping. She also looked extremely cross. + +"Helen, I must request you to have some fresh coffee made for me. I +cannot bear half cold coffee. Daisy, have the goodness to ring the bell. +Yes, my dear children, I am late. I have a sad reason for being late; +the dog is nowhere to be found." + +A gleam of satisfaction filled each young face. Fly crimsoning greatly, +lowered her eyes; but David looked tranquilly full at Mrs. Cameron. + +"Is it that nice little Scorpion?" he asked. "I'm awfully sorry, but I +suppose he went for a walk." + +Mrs. Cameron glanced with interest at David's sympathetic face. + +"No, my dear boy, that isn't his habit. The dear little dog sleeps, as a +rule, until just the last moment. Then I lift him gently, and carry him +downstairs for his cream." + +"I wonder how he likes that bare beef bone?" murmured Fly, almost aloud. + +"He's sure to come home for his cream in a moment or two!" said David. + +He gave Fly a violent kick under the table. + +"Helen," said Mrs. Cameron, "be sure you keep Scorpion's cream." + +"There isn't any," replied Helen. "I was obliged to send it up to +father. There was not nearly so much cream as usual this morning. I had +scarcely enough for father." + +"You don't mean to tell me you have used up the dog's cream?" exclaimed +Mrs. Cameron. "Well, really, that _is_ too much. The little animal will +starve, he can't touch anything else. Oh, where is he? My little, +faithful pet! My lap feels quite empty without him. My dear children, I +trust you may never love--_love_ a little creature as I love Scorpion, +and then lose him. Yes, I am seriously uneasy, the dog would not have +left me of his own accord." + +Here, to the astonishment of everybody, and the intense indignation of +Mrs. Cameron, Fly burst into a scream of hysterical laughter, and hid +her face in Polly's neck. + +"What a naughty child!" exclaimed the good lady. "You have no sympathy +with my pet, my darling! Speak this minute. Where is the dog, miss?" + +"I expect in his grave," said Fly. + +Whereupon Dave suddenly disappeared under the table, and all the others +stared in wonder at Fly. + +"Firefly, do you know anything?" + +"I expect Scorpion is in his grave. Where is the use of making such a +fuss?" responded Fly. + +And she made a precipitate retreat out of the window. + +All the remainder of that day was occupied in a vain search for the +missing animal. Mrs. Cameron strongly suspected Firefly, but the only +remark the little girl could be got to make was: + +"I am sure Scorpion is in his grave." + +Mrs. Cameron said that was no answer, and further insisted that the +child should be severely punished. But as in reply to that, Helen said +firmly that as long as father was in the house no one should punish the +children but him, she felt, for the present, at least, obliged to hold +her sense of revenge in check. + +After Fly had gone to bed that night, David crept into her room. + +"I've done it all now," he said. "I sold Scorpion to-night for a +shilling to a man who was walking across the moor, and I have just +popped the shilling into Mrs. Cameron's purse. The horrid little brute +worked quite a big hole in the bottom of the grave, Fly, and he nearly +snapped my fingers off when I lifted him out to give him to Jones. But +he's away now, that's a comfort. What a silly thing you were, Fly, to +burst out laughing at breakfast, and then say that Scorpion was in his +grave." + +"But it was so true, David. That hole looked exactly like a grave." + +"But you have drawn suspicion upon you. Now, Mrs. Cameron certainly +doesn't suspect me. See what she has given me: this beautiful new +two-shilling piece. She said I was a very kind boy, and had done my best +to find her treasure for her." + +"Oh, Dave, how could you take it!" + +"Couldn't I, just! I'm not a little muff, like you. I intend to buy a +set of wickets with this. Well, good-night, Fly; nobody need fear +hydrophobia after this good day's work." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +A DILEMMA. + + +A night's sleep had by no means improved Mrs. Cameron's temper. She came +downstairs the next morning so snappish and disagreeable, so much +inclined to find fault with everybody, and so little disposed to see the +faintest gleam of light in any direction, that the children almost +regretted Scorpion's absence, and began to wonder if, after all, he was +not a sort of safety-valve for Mrs. Cameron, and more or less essential +to her existence. + +Hitherto this good woman had not seen her brother-in-law; and it was +both Helen's and Polly's constant aim to keep her from the sick room. + +It was several days now since the Doctor was pronounced quite out of +danger; but the affection of his eyes which had caused his children so +many anxious fears, had become much worse. As the London oculist had +told him, any shock or chill would do this; and there was now no doubt +whatever that for a time, at least, he would have to live in a state of +total darkness. + +"It is a dreadful fate," said Helen to Polly. "Oh, yes, it is a dreadful +fate, but we must not complain, for anything is better than losing him." + +"Anything truly," replied Polly. "Why, what is the matter, Flower? How +you stare." + +Flower had been lying full-length on the old sofa in the school-room; +she now sprang to her feet, and came up eagerly to the two sisters. + +"Could a person do this," she said, her voice trembling with +eagerness--"Could such a thing as this be done: could one give their +eyes away?" + +"Flower!" + +"Yes, I mean it. Could I give my eyes to Dr. Maybright--I mean just do +nothing at all but read to him and look for him--manage so that he +should know everything just through my eyes. Can I do it? If I can, I +will." + +"But, Flower, you are not father's daughter," said Polly in an almost +offended tone. "You speak, Flower--you speak as if he were all the +world to you." + +"So he is all the world to me!" said Flower. "I owe him reparation, I +owe him just everything. Yes, Helen and Polly, I think I understand how +to keep your father from missing his eyes much. Oh, how glad I am, how +very glad I am!" + +From that moment Flower became more or less a changed creature. She +developed all kinds of qualities which the Maybrights had never given +her credit for. She had a degree of tact which was quite astonishing in +a child of her age. There was never a jarring note in her melodious +voice. With her impatience gone, and her fiery, passionate temper +soothed, she was just the girl to be a charming companion to an invalid. + +However restless the Doctor was, he grew quieter when Flower stole her +little hand into his; and when he was far too weak and ill and suffering +to bear any more reading aloud, he could listen to Flower as she recited +one wild ballad after another. + +Flower had found her mission, and she was seldom now long away from the +Doctor's bedside. + +"Don't be jealous, Polly," said Helen. "All this is saving Flower, and +doing father good." + +"There is one comfort about it," said Polly, "that as Aunt Maria +perfectly detests poor Flower, or Daisy, as she calls her, she is not +likely to go into father's room." + +"That is true!" said Helen. "She came to the room door the other day, +but Flower was repeating 'Hiawatha,' and acting it a little bit--you +know she can't help acting anything she tries to recite--and Aunt Maria +just threw up her hands and rolled her eyes, and went away." + +"What a comfort!" said Polly. "Whatever happens, we must never allow the +dreadful old thing to come near father." + +Alack! alas! something so bad had happened, so terrible a tragedy had +been enacted that even Flower and Hiawatha combined could no longer keep +Mrs. Cameron away from her brother-in-law's apartment. + +On the second day after Scorpion's disappearance, the good woman called +Helen aside, and spoke some words which filled her with alarm. + +"My dear!" she said, "I am very unhappy. The little dog, the little +sunbeam of my life, is lost. I am convinced, Helen! yes, I am convinced, +that there is foul play in the matter. You, every one of you, took a +most unwarrantable dislike to the poor, faithful little animal. Yes, +every one of you, with the exception of David, detested my Scorpion, and +I am quite certain that you all know where he now is." + +"But really, Aunt Maria," said Helen, her fair face flushing, "really, +now, you don't seriously suppose that I had anything to say to +Scorpion's leaving you." + +"I don't know, my dear. I exonerate David. Yes, David is a good boy; he +was attached to the dog, and I quite exonerate him. But as to the rest +of you, I can only say that I wish to see your father on the subject." + +"Oh! Aunt Maria! you are not going to trouble father, so ill as he is, +about that poor, miserable little dog?" + +"Thank you, Helen! thank you! poor miserable little dog indeed. Ah! my +dear, you have let the cat out of the bag now. Yes, my dear, I insist on +seeing your father with regard to the _poor, miserable little dog_. +Poor, indeed, am I without him, my little treasure, my little faithful +Scorpion." Here Mrs. Cameron applied her handkerchief to her eyes, and +Helen walked to the window, feeling almost driven to despair. + +"I think you are doing wrong!" she said, presently. "It is wrong to +disturb a man like father about any dog, however noble. I am sure I am +right in saying that we, none of us, know anything about Scorpion's +disappearance. However, if you like, and rather than that father should +be worried, I will send for all the children, and ask them the question +one by one before you. I am absolutely sure that they won't think +Scorpion worth a lie." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +FIREFLY. + + +Helen experienced some little difficulty in getting her scattered +brothers and sisters together. She could not get any of them to think +seriously of Scorpion's departure. They laughed and lingered over their +own pursuits, and told Helen to her face that she made a great fuss +about nothing; in short, the best part of an hour had gone by before the +Maybrights and the two Dalrymples assembled in Mrs. Cameron's presence +in the morning room. + +"It is just this, children," said Helen. "Aunt Maria feels very low +about Scorpion; you see she loved him." Groans here came audibly from +the lips of Bob and Bunny. "Yes!" said Helen, looking severely at her +two little brothers, "Aunt Maria did love Scorpion. She feels very +lonely without him, and she has taken an idea into her head that one or +other of you had something to say to his disappearance. Of course I know +that none of you could be so cruel and heartless, but to satisfy Aunt +Maria, I have asked you all to come here just to tell her that you did +nothing to make Scorpion run away." + +"Only we are very glad he did run away!" said Bob, "but as to touching +him, why, I wouldn't with a pair of tongs." + +"I wish to say a word!" said Mrs. Cameron. She came forward, and stood +looking very flushed and angry before the assembled group. "I wish to +say that I am sure some of you in your malice deprived me of my dog. I +believe David Dalrymple to be innocent, but as to the rest of you, I may +as well say that I do not believe you, whatever you may tell me." + +"Well, after that!" exclaimed all the children. + +"I suppose, Helen, after that we may go away?" said Firefly, who was +looking very pale. + +"No, Miss!" said Aunt Maria, "you must stay. Your sister Helen does not +wish me to do anything to disturb your father, but I assure you, +children, there are limits even to my patience, and I intend to visit +him this morning and tell him the whole story, unless before you leave +the room you tell me the truth." + +Firefly's sallow little face grew whiter and whiter. She glanced +imploringly at David, who looked boldly and unconcernedly back at her; +then, throwing back his head, he marched up to Mrs. Cameron's side. + +"You believe that _I_ am innocent, don't you?" he said. + +"Certainly, my dear boy. I have said so." + +"In that case, perhaps you would not mind my going out a little way on +the moor and having a good look round for the dog, he _may_ have +wandered there, you know, and broken his leg or something." Mrs. Cameron +shuddered. "In any case," continued David, with a certain air of modest +assurance, which became him very much, "it seems a pity that I should +waste time here." + +"Certainly; go, my dear lad," answered Mrs. Cameron. "Bring my little +innocent suffering treasure back with you, and I will give you half a +crown." + +David instantly left the room, unheeding a short, sharp cry which issued +from Firefly's lips as he passed her. + +Most of the other children were laughing; it was impossible for them to +think of anything in connection with Scorpion except as a joke. + +"Listen, Aunt Maria," said Helen. "I am afraid you must not treat my +brothers and sisters as you propose. Neither must you trouble father +without the doctor's permission. The fact is, Aunt Maria, we are +Maybrights, and every one who knows anything about us at all _must_ know +that we would scorn to tell a lie. Our father and our dear, dear +mother--your sister whom you loved, Aunt Maria, and for whose sake you +are interested in us--taught us to fear a lie more than anything, +_much_ more than punishment, _much_ more than discovery. Oh, yes, we +have heaps and heaps of faults; we can tease, we can be passionate, and +idle, and selfish; but being Maybrights, being the children of our own +father and mother, we can't lie. The fact is, we'd be afraid to." + +Helen's blue eyes were full of tears. + +"Bravo! Helen!" said Polly, going up to her sister and kissing her. "She +says just the simple truth, Aunt Maria," she continued, flashing round +in her bright way on the old lady. "We _are_ a naughty set--_you_ know +that, don't you?--but we can't tell lies; we draw the line there." + +"Yes, we draw the line there," suddenly said Firefly, in a high-pitched +voice, which sounded as if it was going to crack. + +"I admire bravery," said Mrs. Cameron, after a pause. "Ask your +questions, Helen. For my dead sister's sake I will accept the word of a +Maybright. 'Pon my word, you are extraordinary young people; but I +admire girls who are not afraid to speak out, and who uphold their +parents' teaching. Ask the children quickly, Helen, if they know +anything about the dog, for after David's hint about his having strayed +on that awful moor, and perhaps having broken one of his dear little +legs, I feel more uncomfortable than ever about him. For goodness' sake, +Helen! ask your question quickly, and let me get out on the moor to look +for my dog." + +"Children," said Helen, coming forward at once, "do you know anything +about Scorpion's loss, _any_thing? Now, I am going to ask you each +singly; as you answer you can leave the room. Polly, I begin with you." + +One by one the Maybrights and Flower answered very clear and emphatic +"No's" to Helen's question, and one by one they retired to wait for +their companions in the passage outside. + +At last Helen put the question to Firefly. Two big, green-tinted hazel +eyes were raised to her face. + +"Yes, Helen, I do know," replied Firefly. + +Mrs. Cameron uttered a shriek, and almost fell upon the little girl, but +Helen very gently held her back. + +"One minute," she said. "Firefly, what do you know?" + +"I'm not going to tell you, Helen." The child's lips quivered, but her +eyes looked up bravely. + +"Why so? Please, Aunt Maria, let me speak to her. Why won't you tell +what you know, dear Fly?" + +"Because I promised. There, I won't say a word more about it. I do know, +and I won't tell; no, I won't ever, ever tell. You can punish me, of +course, Aunt Maria." + +"So I will, Miss. Take that slap for your impertinence. Oh! if you were +my child, should not I give you a whipping. You know what has happened +to my poor _dear_ little dog, and you refuse to tell. But you shall +tell--you wicked cruel little thing--you shall, you must!" + +"Shall I take Firefly away and question her?" asked Helen. "Please, Aunt +Maria, don't be too stern with her. She is a timid little thing; she is +not accustomed to people blaming her. She has some reason for this, but +she will explain everything to her sister Nell, won't you, darling?" + +The child's lips were trembling, and her eyes filling with tears. + +"There's no use in my going away with you, Helen," she replied, +steadily. "I am willing Aunt Maria should punish me, but I can't tell +because I'm a Maybright. It would be telling a lie to say what I know. I +don't mind your punishing me rather badly, Aunt Maria." + +"Oh, you don't, don't you?" said Aunt Maria. "Listen; was not that the +sound of wheels?" + +"The doctor to see father," explained Helen. "I ought to go." + +"Excuse me, my dear, I particularly wish to see your father's medical +adviser this morning. I will not detain him long, but I have a question +I wish to put to him. You stay with your little sister, Helen. I shall +be back soon." + +Mrs. Cameron trotted out of the room. In about ten minutes, with an +exultant look on her face, she returned. Firefly was now clasped tightly +in Helen's arms while she sobbed her heart out on her breast. + +"Well, Helen, has this _most_ impertinent, naughty child confessed?" + +"She has not," said Helen. "I don't understand her; she seems in sore +trouble. Dear little Fly!" + +"'Dear little Fly,' indeed! Naughty, wicked little Fly, you mean. +However, my dear, I have come to tell you that I have just had an +interview with the excellent doctor who attends your father. He has gone +up to see him now. He says he does not want to see you at all to-day, +Helen. Well, I spoke to Dr. Strong, and he was _astonished_--absolutely +astonished, when he heard that I had not yet been permitted to see my +brother-in-law. I told him quite frankly that you girls were jealous of +my influence, and used his (Dr. Strong's) name to keep me out of my poor +brother's room. 'But my dear madam,' he said, 'the young ladies labor +under a mistake--a vast, a monstrous mistake. _Nothing_ could do my +poor patient more good than to see a sensible, practical lady like +yourself!' 'Then I may see him this afternoon?' I asked. 'Undoubtedly, +Mrs. Cameron,' he replied; 'it will be something for my patient to look +forward to.' I have arranged then, my dear Helen, to pay a visit to your +father at three o'clock to-day." + +Helen could not repress a sigh. + +Mrs. Cameron raised her eyebrows with a certain suggestive and +aggravating gesture. + +"Ah, my dear," she said, "you must try to keep under that jealous +temperament. Jealousy fostered in the heart overshadows and overclouds +all life. Be warned in time." + +"About this child," said Helen, drawing Firefly forward, "what is to be +done about her? You will be lenient, won't you, Aunt Maria, for she is +very young?" + +"By the way," said Mrs. Cameron, with the manner of one who had not +heard a word of Helen's last speech, "is this naughty little girl +attached to her father?" + +Firefly raised her tear-dimmed face. + +"He is my darling----" she began. + +"Ah, yes, my dear; I detest exaggerated expressions. If you love him, +you can now prove it. You would not, for instance, wish to give him +anxiety, or to injure him?" + +"Oh, no, oh, no! I would rather die." + +"Again that sentimental exaggeration; but you shall prove your words. If +you have not confessed to me before three o'clock to-day all you know +about the loss of my treasured dog Scorpion, I shall take you into your +father's sick room, and in his presence dare you to keep your wicked +secret to yourself any longer." + +"Oh, you don't mean that," said Firefly. "You can't be so awfully cruel. +Nell, Nell, do say that Aunt Maria doesn't mean that." + +The child was trembling violently; her little face was white as death, +her appealing eyes would have softened most hearts. + +"Oh, Nell, what shall I do if I make father worse again? For I can't +tell what I know; it would be a lie to tell it, and you said yourself, +Nell, that no Maybright told lies." + +Mrs. Cameron smiled grimly. + +"I have said it," she remarked; "it all rests with yourself, Firefly. I +shall be ready either to hear your confession or to take you to your +father at three o'clock to-day." + +With these words the good lady walked out of the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +TO THE RESCUE. + + +An hour later a wildly anxious and disconsolate little figure might have +been seen knocking at Polly's door. No answer from within. A moment of +suspense on the part of the little figure, followed by another and +louder knock; then the small, nervous fingers turned the handle of the +door, and Firefly pushed her head in and peered anxiously round. + +Oh, dear! oh, dear! No Polly was in the room. And why did the great +eight-day clock in the hall strike twelve? Why, on this morning of all +mornings, should time go on wings? Firefly had great faith in Polly's +powers of helping her. But the moments were too precious to waste them +in trying to find her. She had another search to make, and she must set +out at once. No, not quite at once. She clasped her hands to her beating +little heart as an idea came to her on which she might act. A delicious +and yet most sorrowful idea, which would fill her with the keenest pain, +and yet give her the very sweetest consolation. She would go and get a +kiss from her father before she set out on the search, which might be a +failure. Very swiftly she turned, flew down the long gallery which led +to Dr. Maybright's room, and went in. + +Dr. Strong had paid his visit and gone away. Firefly's heart gave a +bound of delight, for her father was alone. He was lying supported high +in bed with pillows. His almost sightless eyes were not bandaged, they +were simply closed; his hands, with their long, sensitive, purposeful +fingers lay on the white sheets in a restful attitude. Already the acute +hearing of the blind had come to him, and as Firefly glided up to the +bedside, he turned his head quickly. Her two small hands went with a +kind of bound into one of his. His fingers closed over them. + +"This is my Fly," said the Doctor; "a very excited and feverish Fly, +too. How these small fingers flutter! What is it, my darling?" + +"A kiss, father," said Fly, "a great _hug_ of a kiss! please, please. I +want it so awfully badly." + +"Climb up on the bed, and put your arms round me. Is that all right? My +dear little one, you are not well." + +"I'm quite well, now, while I'm loving you. Oh! aren't you just the +darlingest of all darling fathers? There, another kiss; and another! Now +I'm better." + +She glided off the bed, pressed two long, last fervent embraces on the +Doctor's white hand, and rushed out of the room. + +"I'm lots stronger now," she said to herself. "_Whatever_ happens, I'll +have those kisses to hold on to and remember; but nothing shall happen, +for I'm going to find David; he is sure to put things right for me." + +Meanwhile, Polly's absence from her room was accounted for, also the +fact of Fly finding her father alone. It was seldom that this dearly +loved and favorite father, physician, and friend, was left to indulge in +solitude. It was the privilege of all privileges to sit by him, read to +him, and listen to his talk; and a girl, generally two girls, occupied +the coveted chairs by his bedside. On this morning, however, poor Helen +was detained, first by Aunt Maria, and then by necessary housekeeping +cares; and Polly and Flower were deeply engrossed over a matter of +considerable importance. + +When Polly had replied in the negative to Helen's question, she lingered +for a moment in the passage outside the morning-room, then started off +to find Nurse and little Pearl. Flower, however, waited with a feeling +of curiosity, or perhaps something more, to hear what the others would +say. She was witness, therefore, through the open door, of Firefly's +curious mixture of avowal and denial, and when Mrs. Cameron went away to +consult the doctor who attended Dr. Maybright, she coolly waited in an +adjoining room, and when the good woman returned, once more placed +herself within earshot. No Maybright would dream of eavesdropping, but +Flower's upbringing had been decidedly lax with regard to this and other +matters. + +In full possession, therefore, of the facts of the catastrophe which was +to overpower poor little Fly and injure Dr. Maybright, she rushed off to +find Polly. Polly was feeling intensely happy, playing with and fondling +her sweet little baby sister, when Flower, pale and excited, rushed into +the room. Nurse, who had not yet forgiven Flower, turned her back upon +the young lady, and hummed audibly. Flower, however, was far too much +absorbed to heed her. + +"Listen, Polly! you have got to come with me at once. Give baby back to +Nurse. You must come with me directly." + +"If it is anything more about Scorpion, I refuse to stir," answered +Polly. "If there is a creature in this world whom I absolutely loathe, +it's that detestable little animal!" + +"You don't hate him more than I do," said Flower. "My news is about him. +Still, you must come, for it also means Firefly and your father. They'll +both get into awful trouble--I know they will--if we don't save them." + +"What?" said Polly; "what? Take baby, please, Nurse. Now, what is it, +Flower?" pulling her outside the nursery door. "What _has_ that horrid +Scorpion to do with Fly and father?" + +"Only this: Fly has confessed that she knows what has become of him, but +she's a dear little brick and won't tell. She says she's a Maybright, +and they don't tell lies. Three cheers for the Maybrights, if they are +all like Fly, say I! Well, the little love won't tell, and Mrs. Cameron +is fit to dance, and what does she do but gets leave from Dr. Strong to +see your father, and she's going to drag Fly before him at three o'clock +to-day, and make a fine story of what happened. She holds it over Fly +that your father will be made very ill again. Very likely he will, if +_we_ don't prevent it." + +"It's horrible!" said Polly; "but _how_ can we prevent it, Flower?" + +"Oh, easily enough. _You_ must guard your father's room. Let no one in +under any pretense whatever until I have found David." + +"What do you mean by finding David? What can David have to say to it?" + +"Oh! has he not? Poor Fly! David has got her into his toils. David is at +the bottom of all this, I am convinced. I guessed it the moment I saw +him go up so boldly to Mrs. Cameron and pretend to be sorry about the +dog. _He_ sorry about Scorpion! He hates him more than any of us." + +"But then--I don't understand; if that is so, David told a deliberate +lie, Flower." + +Flower colored. + +"We have not been brought up like the Maybrights," she said. "Oh, yes, +_we_ could tell a lie; we were not brought up to be particular about +good things, or to avoid bad things. We were brought up--well, just +anyhow." + +Polly stole up to Flower and kissed her. + +"I am glad you have come to learn of my father," she said. "Now do tell +me what we are to do for poor, poor Fly. Do you think David is guilty, +and that he has got Fly to promise not to tell?" + +"Yes, that is what I think. David must be found, and got to confess, and +so release Fly of her promise before three o'clock. David is a dreadful +boy to find when he takes it into his head to hide on purpose; but I +must look for him, and in the meantime will you guard your father, +Polly?" + +"As a dragon," said Polly. "You may trust me about that at least. I will +go to his room at once to make all things safe, for there is really no +trusting Aunt Maria when she has a scheme of vengeance with regard to +_that dog_ in her head. Good-by, Flower; I'm off to father." + +Polly turned away, and Flower ran quickly downstairs. She knew she had +not a moment to lose, for David, as she expressed it, was a very +difficult boy to find when he took it into his head to hide himself. + +Flower had not been on the moor since that dreadful day when she had +taken the baby away. So much had happened since then, so many dreadful +things had come to pass, that she shuddered at the bare thought of the +great and desolate moorland. Nevertheless she guessed that David would +hide there, and without a moment's hesitation turned her steps in the +direction of Peg-Top Moor. She had walked for nearly half an hour, and +had reached rather a broad extent of table-land, when she saw--their +little figures plainly visible against the sky--two children, nearly a +quarter of a mile away, eagerly talking together. There was not the +least doubt as to their identity; the children--a boy and a girl--were +David and Fly. Fly was holding David's arm, and gesticulating and +talking eagerly; David's head was turned away. Flower quickened her +steps almost into a run. If only she could reach the two before they +parted; above all things, if she could reach them before David saw her! + +Alas and alas! she was too late for this. David suddenly pushed his +little companion a couple of feet away from him, and to all appearance +vanished into the solid ground. + +Fly, crying bitterly, began to run to meet Flower. Flower held out her +arms as the little girl approached. + +"What is it, Firefly? Tell me, has David confessed?" + +"Oh, what do you know about it, Flower? Oh, what am I to do, what am I +to do?" + +"You are to go quietly home," said Flower, speaking in a voice of +authority. "You are to go quietly home, and leave this matter in my +hands. I know all about it, and just what David has done. He has bound +you by a sort of oath, you poor little thing--you dear, brave little +thing! Never mind, Fly; you leave David to me. I expect I shall find him +now--that is, if you don't keep me too long talking. Go home, and leave +matters to me." + +"But Flower--Flower, you do comfort me a little; but Flower, it will +soon be three o'clock, and then--and then--oh, dear father! Oh, it is +so dreadful!" + +"No, you silly mite; it is not dreadful at all. Polly is in charge of +the Doctor. She is sitting with him now, and the door is locked, and the +key is in Polly's pocket, and she has promised me not to open that door +to any one--no, Fly, not to a hundred of your Aunt Marias--until I +bring David home." + +Fly's face underwent a transformation. Her big eyes looked full up into +Flower's. A smile flitted across her quivering lips. With a sudden, +passionate gesture, she stooped down and kissed Flower's fingers, then +ran obediently back in the direction of Sleepy Hollow. + +"She is a perfect little darling!" said Flower to herself. "If Master +David does not rue it for making her suffer, my name is not Flower +Dalrymple." + +She ran on swiftly. She was always very quick and light in her +movements. Soon she came to the place where David had to all appearance +disappeared. She did not stay there long. She ran on to where the +bracken grew thick and long, then suddenly lay flat down on the ground, +and pressed her ear close to Mother Earth. What she heard did not +satisfy her. She rose again, repeating the same process several times. +Suddenly her eyes brightened; she raised her head, and listened +attentively, then she whistled a long peculiar note. There was no +answer, but Flower's face retained its watchful, intent expression. She +laid her head down once more close to the ground, and began to speak, +"David, David, I know you are there; there is no use in your hiding. +Come here, I want you, I, Flower. I will give you two minutes, David; if +you don't come then I'll keep the threat I made when you made me angry +with you at Ballarat." + +A perfect silence followed Flower's words. She still lay flat on the +ground. One of the minutes flew by. + +"I'll keep my word, David!" she said again. "You know me; you know what +my threat means. Three-quarters of a minute more, half a minute, then +I'll go home, and I'll do what I said I would do when you made me angry +at Ballarat." + +Again there was silence, but this time quickly broken; a boy's black +head appeared above the bracken, a little brown hand was held out, and +David, without troubling himself to move a hair's breadth, looked full +into his sister's face. + +"I don't want to lose you, Flower!" he said. "You are the only person in +all the world I care two-pence about. Now what's the row?" + +"You're a cowardly boy, David, and I'm ashamed of you; come with me this +minute." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +OH, FIE! POLLY. + + +While these events were taking place, and the children in their various +ways were preparing checkmate for Aunt Maria Cameron, that good lady +was having a by no means unexciting experience of her own. After her +housekeeping cares were over, after she had interviewed Mrs. Power, and +made Alice thoroughly uncomfortable; after, in short, meaning it all the +while for the best, she had succeeded in jarring the whole household +machinery to the utmost, it was her custom morning after morning to +retire with Scorpion into the seldom used drawing-room, and there, +seated comfortably in an old-fashioned arm-chair, with her feet well +supported on a large cushion, and the dog on her lap, to devote herself +to worsted work. Not crewel work, not church embroidery, not anything +which would admit of the use of modern art colors, but genuine, +old-fashioned worsted work. Mrs. Cameron delighted in the flaring +scarlets, pinks, greens, blues, and mauves of thirty years ago. She +admired with all her soul the hard, staring flowers which these colors +produced. They looked, she said, substantial and durable. They _looked_ +like artificial flowers; nobody could mistake them for the real article, +which was occasionally known to be the case with that flimsy, in her +opinion, ugly, art embroidery. No, no, Mrs. Cameron would not be smitten +by the art craze. "Let nature _be_ nature!" she would say, "and worsted +work be worsted work, and don't let us try to clash the poor things into +one, as that wretched art-school is always endeavoring to do." So each +morning Mrs. Cameron plied her worsted needle, and Scorpion slumbered +peacefully on her knee. She liked to sit with her back to the light, so +that it should fall comfortably on her work, and her own eyes be +protected from an extensive and very beautiful view of the south moor. + +Mrs. Cameron hated the moor; it gave her, as she expressed it, "the +creeps," and on all occasions she avoided looking at it. On this +morning, as usual, she took out her large roll of worsted work, and +prepared to ground a huge, impossible arum lily. Her thoughts, however, +were not, as usual, with her work. Her cheeks were flushed, and her +whole face expressed annoyance and anxiety. + +"How I miss even his dear little playful bite!" she said aloud, a big +tear falling on her empty lap. "Ah, my Scorpion! why did I love you, but +to lose you? How true are the poet's words: + +'I never loved a dear gazelle.' + +Well, I must say it, I seldom came across more wicked, heartless +children than the Maybrights and Daisy Rymple. David is really the only +one of the bunch worth rearing. Ah, my poor sister! your removal has +doubtless spared you many sorrows, for what could you expect of the +future of such a family as yours? Now, what is that? This moor is enough +to keep anybody's nerves in a state of tension. What _is_ that awful +sound approaching the house?" + +The noise in question was the unmistakable one of a woman's loud +sobbing. It came nearer and nearer, gaining in fullness and volume as it +approached the house. + +Mrs. Cameron was always intensely curious. She threw open the +drawing-room window; and as the sufferer approached, effectually stopped +her progress with her own stout person. + +"Now, my dear, good creature, what is this most unpleasant sound? Don't +you know that it is frightfully bad-mannered to cry in that loud, +unrestrained fashion? Pray restrain yourself. You are quite childish. +You cannot know what real affliction means. Now, if you had lost +a--a---- If, my poor woman, you had lost a dear little dog!" + +"Is it a dog?" gasped Mrs. Ricketts, for it was she. "Is it a dog? Oh, +my word! Much you know about 'flictions and such-like! Let me go to the +house, ma'am. It isn't to you as I has come to tell my tale." + +"Then let me inform you that you are going to tell it to no one else. +Here I stand, and here I remain until you choose to explain to me the +reason of your loud bursts of uncontrollable grief. During the illness +of its master I am the mistress here, and either you speak to me or you +go home." + +Mrs. Ricketts had by this time so far restrained her sobs as to be able +to take a long and very acute glance at the lady in question. Doubtless +she was face to face with the formidable Mrs. Cameron, that terrible +personage who had got her Maggie dismissed, and who had locked up poor +darling Miss Polly for days in her bedroom. + +There was no one, perhaps, in the world whom Mrs. Ricketts more +cordially disliked than this good lady, but all the same, it was now her +policy to propitiate her. She smoothed, therefore, her brow, dried her +eyes, and, with a profound courtesy, began her tale. + +"Ef you please, ma'am, it's this way; it's my character that's at stake. +I always was, and always will be, honest of the honest. 'Ard I works, +ma'am, and the bread of poverty I eats, but honest I am, and honest I +brings up those fatherless lambs, my children." + +Mrs. Cameron waved one of her fat hands impressively. + +"Pardon me, my good woman. I am really not interested in your family. +Pray come to the point, and then go home." + +"To the p'int, ma'am? Oh, yes, I'll come to the p'int. This is the p'int +ef you please, ma'am," and she suddenly thrust, almost into Mrs. +Cameron's dazzled face, the splendid gleam and glitter of a large unset +diamond. "This is the p'int, ma'am; this is what's to take my character +away, and the bread out of the mouths of my innocent children." + +Mrs. Cameron never considered herself a worldly woman. She was +undoubtedly a very Christian-minded, charitable, good woman, but all the +same, she loved fine houses and big dinners and rich apparel, and above +all things she adored jewelry. Flowers--that is, natural flowers--had +never yet drawn a smile out of her. She had never pined for them or +valued them, but jewels, ah! they were worth possessing. She quite +gasped now, as she realized the value of the gem which Mrs. Ricketts so +unceremoniously thrust under her nose. + +"A diamond! Good gracious! How did you come by it? A most valuable +diamond of extraordinary size. Give it to me this moment, my good dear +creature! and come into the drawing-room. You can step in by this open +window. We won't be disturbed in here. I suppose you were weeping in +that loud and violent manner at the thought of the grief of the person +who had lost this treasure?" + +"No, ma'am, I were a sobbing at the grief of her what _'ad_ it. Oh, my +word! And the young lady said for sure as I'd get nine-and-fourpence +halfpenny for it. No, ma'am, I won't go into the 'ouse, thank you. Oh, +dear! oh, dear! the young lady did set store by it, and said for certain +I'd get my nine-and-fourpence halfpenny back, but when I took the stone +to the shop to-day, and asked the baker to give me some bread and let +this go partly to pay the account, he stared at me and said as I wasn't +honest, and he thrust it back in my hand. Oh, dearie me! oh, dearie me! +the foreign young lady shouldn't have done it!" + +"_I_ am very sure that you're honest, my good creature! Now, do tell me +about this stone. How did you come by it?" + +"It was the young lady, ma'am; the young lady from Australia." + +"Daisy Rymple, do you mean?" + +"Miss Flower she called herself, ma'am. She come to me in sore plight +late one evening, when we was all in bed, and 'Mrs. Ricketts,' said she, +dear lamb, 'will you help me to go away to Mrs. Cameron, to Bath? I want +the money to go third class to Bath. Can you let me have nine shillings +and fourpence halfpenny, Mrs. Ricketts? and I'll give you this for the +money!' and she flashed that bit of a glittering stone right up into my +eyes. My word, I thought as I was blinded by it. 'You'll get most like +two pounds for it, Mrs. Ricketts,' she said, 'for my father told me it +was worth a sight of money.' That's how I come by it, ma'am, and that's +the way I was treated about it to-day." + +Mrs. Cameron slowly drew out her purse. + +"I will give you two sovereigns for the stone!" she said. "There, take +them and go home, and say nothing about the money. It will be the worse +for you if you do; now go quickly home." + +Mrs. Ricketts' broad face was one glow of delight. She dropped another +courtesy, and tried to articulate some words of thanks, but Mrs. Cameron +had already disappeared into the drawing-room, where she now sat, +holding the diamond in the palm of her open hand. + +She knew enough about precious stones to guess at something of its +probable value. The idea of in this way possessing herself of Flower's +diamond never for a moment entered her head, but she was worldly-minded +enough to wish that it could be her own, and she could not help owning +to a feeling of satisfaction, even to a sense of compensation for the +loss of Scorpion, while she held the beautiful glittering thing in her +open palm. + +Even Flower rose in her estimation when she found that she had possessed +a gem so brilliant. A girl who could have such a treasure and so lightly +part with it was undoubtedly a simpleton--but she was a simpleton who +ought to be guarded and prized--the sort of young innocent who should +be surrounded by protecting friends. Mrs. Cameron felt her interest in +Flower growing and growing. Suppose she offered to release the Doctor of +this wearisome burden. Suppose she undertook the care of Flower and her +diamond herself. + +No sooner did this thought occur to Mrs. Cameron, than she resolved to +act upon it. Of course the Doctor would be delighted to part with +Flower. She would see him on the subject at once. + +She went slowly upstairs and knocked with a calm, steady hand at the +door of the dressing-room which opened into Dr. Maybright's apartment. +No sound or reply of any kind came from within. She listened for a +moment, then knocked again, then tried to turn the handle of the door. +It resisted her pressure, being locked from within. + +Mrs. Cameron raised her voice. She was not a person who liked to be +opposed, and that locked door, joined to that most exasperating silence, +became more than trying. Surely the Doctor was not deaf as well as +blind. Surely he must hear her loud demands, even though a dressing-room +stood between his room and the suppliant without. + +And surely the Doctor would have heard, for a more polite man never +lived, were it not for that all mischievous and irrepressible Polly. But +she, being left in charge, had set her sharp brains to work, and had +devised a plan to outwit Mrs. Cameron. The dressing-room in question +contained a double baize door. This door was seldom or never used, but +it came in very conveniently now, for the furtherance of Polly's plan. +When it was shut, and thick curtains also drawn across, and when, in +addition, the door leading into Dr. Maybright's room was securely +fastened and curtained off, Polly felt sure that she and her father +might pass their morning in delicious quietude. Not hearing Mrs. +Cameron, she argued with herself that no one _could_ possibly blame her +for not letting her in. Therefore, in high good humor, this young lady +sat down to read, work, and chatter gayly. As the Doctor listened, he +said to himself that surely there never was in the world a sweeter or +more agreeable companion than his Polly. + +With all her precautions, however, as the hours flew by, sundry muffled +and distant sounds did penetrate to the sick chamber. + +"What a peculiar noise!" remarked the Doctor. + +"Can it be mice?" queried Polly's _most_ innocent voice. + +More time passed. + +Suddenly the sharp and unmistakable sound of gravel being flung against +the window forced the young lady to go to ascertain what was the matter. + +On looking out, she saw what caused her to utter an amazed exclamation. + +Mrs. Cameron, very red in the face, and holding the lost Scorpion in one +encircling arm, while the other was thrown firmly round a most +sulky-looking David; Firefly, pale and with traces of tears on her face; +Flower, looking excited and eager--all stood under the window. This +group were loud in demanding instant admission to the Doctor's room. + +"What is it, what is it?" questioned the patient from the bed. + +"Oh, you are _not_ strong enough to see them, father." + +"To see whom?" + +"Aunt Maria--Scorpion--the children." + +"Yes, I am quite strong enough. Let them come up at once." + +"But father!" + +"But Polly! You don't suppose seriously that your Aunt Maria can disturb +my equanimity?" + +"Oh! She will worry you with so many tales." + +"About my very naughty family?" + +"Yes, yes; you had much better not see her." + +"Because she wants me to get a chaperon for you?" + +"Oh! yes--oh! don't see her." + +"My dear, you can trust me; you happen to be _my_ children, not hers. I +would rather have the matter out. I knew there was something wrong from +the way little Fly kissed my hand this morning. Show the deputation +outside the window into the audience chamber at once, Polly." + +So admonished, the curtains had to be drawn back, the baize door +reopened, and Polly--a most unwilling hostess--had to receive her +guests. But no words can describe the babel of sounds which there and +then filled the Doctor's room; no words can tell how patiently the blind +man listened. + +Aunt Maria had a good tale to tell, and it lost nothing in the telling. +The story of Scorpion's disappearance; of the wickedness of David and +Fly; of the recovering of the little animal from the man who had bought +it, through Flower's instrumentality; all this she told, following up +with the full and particular history of the sale of a valuable diamond. +At last--at long last--the good lady stopped for want of breath. + +There was a delicious pause, then the Doctor said, quietly: + +"In short, Maria, you have never come across such absolutely wicked +children as the Maybrights and Dalrymples?" + +"No, Andrew--never! never!" + +"It is lucky they are not your children?" + +"Thank Heaven!" + +"Would it not be well to leave them to me? I am accustomed to them." + +"Yes; I wash my hands of you all; or no--not quite of you all--I heap +coals of fire on your head, Andrew; I offer to relieve you of the charge +of Daisy Rymple." + +"Of Flower?--but she is one of the worst of us." + +Here Flower ran over, crouched down by the Doctor, and put one of her +hands into his. + +"But I will be good with you," she said with a half-sob. + +"Hear her," said the Doctor. "She says she will be good with me. +Perhaps, after all, Maria, I _can_ manage my own children better than +any one else can." + +"Daisy is not your child--you had better give her to me." + +"I can't part with Flower; she is an excellent reader. I am a blind man, +but she scarcely allows me to miss my eyes." + +Flower gave a low ecstatic sob. + +"And you will allow her to part with valuable gems like this?" + +"Thanks to you, Maria, she has recovered her diamond." + +"Andrew, I never met such an obstinate, such a misguided man! Are you +really going to bring up these unfortunate children without a chaperon?" + +"I think you must allow us to be good _and_ naughty in our own way." + +"Father is looking very tired, Aunt Maria," here whispered Polly. + +"My dear, _I_ am never going to fatigue him more. Andrew, I wash my +hands of your affairs. Daisy, take your diamond. At least, my little +precious dog, I have recovered _you_. We return to Bath by the next +train." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +ONE YEAR AFTER. + + +"Helen, here's a letter." + +"Yes. Who is it for?" + +"I think it's for us all. See: 'the Misses Maybright and Miss +Dalrymple.'" + +"Well, where's Flower? We can't open it till Flower comes down. It must +be--yes, it must be about father! You know it was yesterday his eyes +were to be operated on." + +"As if I didn't know it, Nell! I never closed my eyes last night. I felt +nearly as bad as that awful day a year ago now. I wish I might tear open +this envelope. Where is Flower? Need we wait for her?" + +"It would be unkind not to wait! No one feels about father as Flower +does." + +"David, please call her this instant!" + +David flew out of the room, and Polly began to finger the precious +letter. + +"It's thick," she said; "but I don't think there's much writing inside. +Yes," she continued, "Flower is certainly very sensitive about father. +She's a dear girl. All the same, I'm sometimes jealous of her." + +"Oh, dear Polly! why?" + +"Father thinks so much of her. Yes, I know it's wrong, but I do feel a +little sore now and then. Not often though, and never when I look into +Flower's lovely eyes." + +"She is very sweet with father," said Helen. "It seems to me that during +this past year she has given up her very life to him. And did you ever +hear any one read better?" + +"No, that's one of the reasons why I'm devoured with jealousy. Don't +talk to me about it, it's an enemy I haven't yet learnt to overcome. Ah! +here she comes." + +"_And_ Fly, _and_ the twins!" echoed Helen. "Here's a letter from +father, Flower. At least, we think so. It's directed to us and to you." + +A tall, very fair girl, with soft, shining eyes, and a wonderful mane of +yellow hair came up and put her arm round Polly's neck. She did not +smile, her face was grave, her voice shook a little. + +"Open the letter, Helen," she exclaimed impatiently. + +"Don't tremble so, Flower," said Polly. + +But she herself only remained quiet by a great effort, as Helen +unfastened the thick envelope, opened the sheet of paper, and held it up +for many eager pairs of eyes to read: + + "My Children:--I see again, thank God. + "Your Father and loving Friend." + +"There!" said Polly. "Oh, I can't talk about it. Flower, you are silly +to cry. Will no one dance a hornpipe with me? I'll choke if I don't +laugh. You're the one to dance, Fly. Why, you are crying, too. +Ridiculous! Where's the letter? Let's kiss it all round. That'll make us +better. His own blessed writing! Isn't he a darling? Was there ever such +a father?" + +"Or such a friend?" exclaimed Flower. "I said long ago, and I say again +now, that he's the best man in the world, and I do really think that +some day he'll turn me into a good girl." + +"Why, you're the nicest girl I know now," said Polly. + +And then they kissed each other. + + THE END + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +Transcriber's Notes +------------------- + +1. Punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards. + +2. Frontispiece relocated to after title page. + +3. Typographic errors corrected in original: + p. 7 aways to always ("always did think") + p. 8 breat-and-butter to bread-and-butter + p. 102 nuseries to nurseries ("to the nurseries") + p. 154 by to my ("jealous of my influence") + p. 159 life to like ("looked like artificial flowers") + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Polly, by L. T. 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T. Meade + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + /*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ + <!-- + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + p.in {margin-left:10%;} + h1 {text-align: center; clear: both; font-size: 180%;} + h2 {text-align: center; clear: both; font-size: 120%;} + table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; text-align: center;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} + hr.full {width:100%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.major {width:75%; margin-top:2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + hr.minor {width:30%; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; + padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; + font-size: 90% } + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Polly, by L. T. Meade + +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: Polly + A New-Fashioned Girl + +Author: L. T. Meade + +Release Date: June 23, 2006 [EBook #18666] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLY *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<table width='450' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='' border='1'> + <col style='width:80%;' /> + <tr> + <td align='center'> +<span style='font-size: 180%;'><br/><br/>POLLY</span><br /> +<span style='font-size: 180%;'>A NEW-FASHIONED GIRL</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span style='font-size: 80%;'>BY</span><br /> +<span style='font-size: 120%;'>L. T. MEADE</span><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span style='font-size: 80%;'>Author of “A World of Girls,” “Daddy’s Girl,”</span><br /> +<span style='font-size: 80%;'>“Light of the Morning,” “Palace Beautiful,”</span><br /> +<span style='font-size: 80%;'>“A Girl in Ten Thousand,” etc.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> +<span style='font-size: 80%;'>NEW YORK</span><br /> +<span style='font-size: 100%;'>THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY</span><br /> +<span style='font-size: 80%;'>1910</span><br /><br /> + </td> + </tr> +</table> + +<hr class='full' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='width: 221px; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='illus-001' id='illus-001'></a> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' width='221' alt='Polly' title='' /><br /> +<span class='caption'>Polly</span> +</div> +<hr class='full' /> + +<table cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='' border='0'> +<tr><td> +<p> +“But if thou wilt be constant then,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1.5em;'>And faithful of thy word,</span><br /> +I’ll make thee glorious by my pen<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1.5em;'>And famous by my sword.</span><br /> +I’ll serve thee in such noble ways<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1.5em;'>Was never heard before:</span><br /> +I’ll crown and deck thee all with bays<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1.5em;'>And love thee evermore.”</span></p> +<p style='text-align:right'>—<span class='smcap'>James Graham</span>.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h2><a name='Contents' id='Contents'></a>Contents</h2> +<table border='0' width='500' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents'> +<col style='width:25%;' /> +<col style='width:60%;' /> +<col style='width:15%;' /> +<tr><td align='left'><span style='font-weight:bold;'>PART I</span></td><td align='left'> </td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER I.</td><td align='left'>A GREAT MISFORTUNE.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r1685'>1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER II.</td><td align='left'>ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r7374'>4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER III.</td><td align='left'>“BE BRAVE, DEAR.”</td><td align='right'><a href='#r5481'>6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER IV.</td><td align='left'>QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r7124'>10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER V.</td><td align='left'>A SAFETY-VALVE.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r1284'>13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER VI.</td><td align='left'>POLLY’S RAID.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r2750'>16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER VII.</td><td align='left'>THE GROWN-UPS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r7214'>19</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER VIII.</td><td align='left'>SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME?</td><td align='right'><a href='#r9895'>24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER IX.</td><td align='left'>LIMITS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r2520'>28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER X.</td><td align='left'>INDIGESTION WEEK.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r1300'>32</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XI.</td><td align='left'>A—WAS AN APPLE PIE.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r6784'>36</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XII.</td><td align='left'>POTATOES—MINUS POINT.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r9353'>42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XIII.</td><td align='left'>IN THE ATTIC.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r4180'>45</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XIV.</td><td align='left'>AUNT MARIA.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r1225'>50</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XV.</td><td align='left'>PUNISHMENT.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r4324'>55</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XVI.</td><td align='left'>DR. MAYBRIGHT <i>versus</i> SCORPION.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r4346'>60</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XVII.</td><td align='left'>WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN?</td><td align='right'><a href='#r2286'>64</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XVIII.</td><td align='left'>THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r3347'>68</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XIX.</td><td align='left'>DISTRESSED HEROINES.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r3325'>73</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XX.</td><td align='left'>LIMITS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r1796'>75</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XXI.</td><td align='left'>THE HIGH MOUNTAINS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r9767'>78</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span style='font-weight:bold;'>PART II</span></td><td align='left'> </td><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER I.</td><td align='left'>A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r3023'>82</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER II.</td><td align='left'>A YOUNG QUEEN.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r4540'>86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER III.</td><td align='left'>NOT LIKE OTHERS.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r3923'>94</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER IV.</td><td align='left'>A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r2773'>98</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER V.</td><td align='left'>FORSAKEN.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r8525'>103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER VI.</td><td align='left'>WITHOUT HER TREASURE.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r5387'>108</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER VII.</td><td align='left'>MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r2473'>113</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER VIII.</td><td align='left'>THE HERMIT’S HUT.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r3768'>117</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER IX.</td><td align='left'>AN OLD SONG.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r9476'>121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER X.</td><td align='left'>LOOKING AT HERSELF.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r4477'>126</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XI.</td><td align='left'>THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r4797'>131</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XII.</td><td align='left'>RELICS AND A WELCOME.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r6604'>135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XIII.</td><td align='left'>VERY ROUGH WEATHER.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r8824'>139</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XIV.</td><td align='left'>A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r9415'>144</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XV.</td><td align='left'>A DILEMMA.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r4449'>149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XVI.</td><td align='left'>FIREFLY.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r2753'>151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XVII.</td><td align='left'>TO THE RESCUE.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r8401'>155</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XVIII.</td><td align='left'>OH, FIE! POLLY.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r3468'>159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>CHAPTER XIX.</td><td align='left'>ONE YEAR AFTER.</td><td align='right'><a href='#r9012'>165</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<h1>POLLY:<br/>A NEW-FASHIONED GIRL.</h1> + +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r1685' id='r1685'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_1' id='Page_1'>[Pg 1]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2><h3>A GREAT MISFORTUNE.</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was an intensely hot July day—not a cloud appeared in the high blue +vault of the sky; the trees, the flowers, the grasses, were all +motionless, for not even the gentlest zephyr of a breeze was abroad; the +whole world seemed lapped in a sort of drowsy, hot, languorous slumber. +Even the flowers bowed their heads a little weariedly, and the birds +after a time ceased singing, and got into the coolest and most shady +parts of the great forest trees. There they sat and talked to one +another of the glorious weather, for they liked the heat, although it +made them too lazy to sing.</p> + +<p>It was an open plain of country, and although there were clumps of trees +here and there, great clumps with cool shade under them, there were also +acres and acres of common land on which the sun beat remorselessly. This +land was covered with heather, not yet in flower, and with bracken, +which was already putting on its autumn glory of yellow and red. Neither +the bracken nor the heather minded the July heat, but the butterflies +thought it a trifle uncomfortable, and made for the clumps of trees, and +looked longingly and regretfully at what had been a noisy, babbling +little brook, but was now a dry and stony channel, deserted even by the +dragon-flies.</p> + +<p>At the other side of the brook was a hedge, composed principally of wild +roses and hawthorn bushes, and beyond the hedge was a wide dyke, and at +the top of the dyke a wire paling, and beyond that again, a good-sized +vegetable garden.</p> + +<p>From the tops of the trees, had any one been energetic enough to climb +up there, or had any bird been sufficiently endowed with curiosity to +glance his bright eyes in that direction, might have been seen smoke, +ascending straight up into the air, and proceeding from the kitchen +chimneys of a square-built gray house.</p> + +<p>The house was nearly covered with creepers, and had a trellis porch, +sheltering and protecting its open hall-door. Pigeons were cooing near, +and several dogs were lying flat out in the shade which the wide eaves +of the house afforded. There was a flower garden in front, and a wide +gravel sweep,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_2' id='Page_2'>[Pg 2]</a></span> and a tennis court and croquet lawn, and a rose arbor, +and even a great, wide, cool-looking tent. But as far as human life was +concerned the whole place looked absolutely deserted. The pigeons cooed +languidly, and the dogs yapped and yawned, and made ferocious snaps at +audacious and troublesome flies. But no one handled the tennis bats, nor +took up the croquet mallets; no one stopped to admire the roses, and no +one entered the cool, inviting tent. The whole place might have been +dead, as far as human life was concerned; and although the smoke did +ascend straight up from the kitchen chimney, a vagrant or a tramp might +have been tempted to enter the house by the open hall door, were it not +protected by the lazy dogs.</p> + +<p>Up, however, by the hedge, at the other side of the kitchen garden, +could be heard just then the crackle of a bough, the rustle of a dress, +and a short, smothered, impatient exclamation. And had anyone peered +very close they would have seen lying flat in the long grasses a tall, +slender, half-grown girl, with dark eyes and rosy cheeks, and tangled +curly rebellious locks. She had one arm raised, and was drawing herself +deliberately an inch at a time along the smooth grass. Several birds had +taken refuge in this fragrant hedge of hawthorn and wild roses. They +were talking to one another, keeping up a perpetual chatter; but +whenever the girl stirred a twig, or disturbed a branch, they stopped, +looking around them in alarm, but none of them as yet seeing the prone, +slim figure, which was, indeed, almost covered by the grasses. Perfect +stillness once more—the birds resumed their conversation, and the girl +made another slight movement forward. This time she disturbed no twig, +and interrupted none of the bird gossip. She was near, very near, a +tempting green bough, and on the bough sat two full-grown lovely +thrushes; they were not singing, but were holding a very gentle and +affectionate conversation, sitting close together, and looking at one +another out of their bright eyes, and now and then kissing each other +with that loving little peck which means a great deal in bird life.</p> + +<p>The girl felt her heart beating with excitement—the birds were within a +few inches of her—she could see their breasts heaving as they talked. +Her own eyes were as bright as theirs with excitement; she got quite +under them, made a sudden upward, dexterous movement, and laid a warm, +detaining hand on each thrush. The deed was done—the little prisoners +were secured. She gave a low laugh of ecstasy, and sitting upright in +the long grass, began gently to fondle her prey, cooing as she talked to +them, and trying to coax the terrified little prisoners to accept some +kisses from her dainty red lips.</p> + +<p>“Poll! Where’s Polly Parrot?—Poll—Poll—Poll!” came a chorus of +voices. “Poll, you’re wanted at the house this minute. Where are you +hiding?—You’re wanted at home this minute! Polly Parrot—where are you, +Polly?”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_3' id='Page_3'>[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, bother!” exclaimed the girl under her breath; “then I must let you +go, darlings, and I never, never had two of you in my arms at the same +moment before. It’s always so. I’m always interrupted when I’m enjoying +ecstasy. Well, good-by, sweets. Be happy—bless you, darlings!”</p> + +<p>She blew a kiss to the released and delighted thrushes, and stood +upright, looking very lanky and cross and disreputable, with bits of +grass and twig sticking in her hair, and messing and staining her faded, +washed cotton frock.</p> + +<p>“Now, what are you up to, you scamps?—can’t you let a body be?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Polly!”</p> + +<p>Two little figures came tumbling down the gravel walk at the other side +of the wire fence. They were hot and panting, and both destitute of +hats.</p> + +<p>“Polly, you’re wanted at the house. Helen says so; there’s a b-b-baby +come. Polly Perkins—Poll Parrot, you’d better come home at once, +there’s a new b-b-baby just come!”</p> + +<p>“A <i>what</i>?” said Polly. She vaulted the dyke, cleared the fence, and +kneeling on the ground beside her two excited, panting little brothers, +flung a hot, detaining arm round each.</p> + +<p>“A baby! it isn’t true, Bunny? it isn’t true, Bob? A real live baby? Not +a doll! a baby that will scream and wriggle up its face! But it can’t +be. Oh, heavenly! oh, delicious! But it can’t be true, it can’t! You’re +always making up stories, Bunny!”</p> + +<p>“Not this time,” said Bunny. “You tell her, Bob—she’ll believe you. I +heard it yelling—oh, didn’t it yell, just! And Helen came, and said to +send Polly in. Helen was crying, I don’t know what about, and she said +you were to go in at once. Why, what is the matter, Poll Parrot?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” said Polly, “only you might have told me about Helen crying +before. Helen never cries unless there’s something perfectly awful going +to happen. Stay out in the garden, you two boys—make yourselves sick +with gooseberries, if you like, only don’t come near the house, and +don’t make the tiniest bit of noise. A new baby—and Helen crying! But +mother—I’ll find out what it means from mother!”</p> + +<p>Polly had long legs, and they bore her quickly in a swift race or canter +to the house. When she approached the porch the dogs all got up in a +body to meet her; there were seven or eight dogs, and they surrounded +her, impeding her progress.</p> + +<p>“Not a bark out of one of you,” she said, sternly, “lie down—go to +sleep. If you even give a yelp I’ll come out by and by and beat you. Oh, +Alice, what is it? What’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>A maid servant was standing in the wide, square hall.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Alice? What is wrong? There’s a new baby—I’m delighted at +that. But why is Helen crying, and—oh!—oh!—what does it mean—you are +crying, too, Alice.”</p> + +<p>“It’s—Miss Polly, I can’t tell you,” began the girl. She threw her +apron over her head, and sobbed loudly. “We didn’t know where you was, +miss—it’s, it’s—We have been looking for you everywhere, miss. Why, +Miss Polly, you’re as white, as white—Don’t take on now, miss, dear.”</p> + +<p>“You needn’t say any more,” gasped Polly, sinking down into a garden +chair. “I’m not going to faint, or do anything silly. And I’m not going +to cry either. Where’s Helen? If there’s anything bad she’ll tell me. +Oh, do stop making that horrid noise, Alice, you irritate me so +dreadfully!”</p> + +<p>Alice dashed out of the open door, and Polly heard her sobbing again, +and talking frantically to the dogs. There was no other sound of any +sort. The intense stillness of the house had a half-stunning, +half-calming effect on the startled child. She rose, and walked slowly +upstairs to the first landing.</p> + +<p>“Polly,” said her sister Helen, “you’ve come at last. Where were you +hiding?—oh, poor Polly!”</p> + +<p>“Where’s mother?” said Polly. “I want her—let me go to her—<i>let</i> me go +to her at once, Nell.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Polly——”</p> + +<p>Helen’s sobs came now, loud, deep, and distressful. There was a new +baby—but no mother for Polly any more.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r7374' id='r7374'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_4' id='Page_4'>[Pg 4]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2><h3>ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Dr. Maybright had eight children, and the sweetest and most attractive +wife of any man in the neighborhood. He had a considerable country +practice, was popular among his patients, and he and his were adored by +the villagers, for the Maybrights had lived in the neighborhood of the +little village of Tyrsley Dale for many generations. Dr. Maybright’s +father had ministered to the temporal wants of the fathers and mothers +of these very same villagers; and his father before him had also been in +the profession, and had done his best for the inhabitants of Tyrsley +Dale. It was little wonder, therefore, that the simple folks who lived +in the little antiquated village on the borders of one of our great +southern moors should have thought that to the Maybrights alone of the +whole race of mankind had been given the art of healing.</p> + +<p>For three or four generations the Maybright family had lived at Sleepy +Hollow, which was the name of the square gray house, with its large +vegetable garden, its sheltered clump of forest trees, and its +cultivated flower and pleasure grounds. Here, in the old nursery, Polly +had first opened her bright blue-black eyes; in this house Dr. +Maybright’s eight children had lived happily, and enjoyed all the +sunshine of the happiest of happy childhoods to the full. They were all +high-spirited and fearless; each child had a certain amount of +individuality. Perhaps Polly was the naughtiest<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_5' id='Page_5'>[Pg 5]</a></span> and the most peculiar; +but her little spurt of insubordination speedily came to nothing, for +mother, without ever being angry, or ever saying anything that could +hurt Polly’s sensitive feelings, had always, with firm and gentle hand, +put an extinguisher on them.</p> + +<p>Mother was really, then, the life of the house. She was young to have +such tall slips of daughters, and such little wild pickles of sons; and +she was so pretty and so merry, and in such ecstasies over a picnic, and +so childishly exultant when Helen, or Polly, or Katie, won a prize or +did anything the least bit extraordinary, that she was voted the best +playfellow in the world.</p> + +<p>Mother was never idle, and yet she was always at leisure, and so she +managed to obtain the confidences of all the children; she thoroughly +understood each individual character, and she led her small brood with +silken reins.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright was a great deal older than his wife. He was a tall man, +still very erect in his figure, with square shoulders, and a keen, +bright, kindly face. He had a large practice, extending over many miles, +and although he had not the experience which life in a city would have +given him, he was a very clever physician, and many of his brothers in +the profession prophesied eminence for him whenever he chose to come +forward and take it. Dr. Maybright was often absent from home all day +long, sometimes also in the dead of night the children heard his +carriage wheels as they bowled away on some errand of mercy. Polly +always thought of her father as a sort of angel of healing, who came +here, there, and everywhere, and took illness and death away with him.</p> + +<p>“Father won’t let Josie Wilson die,” Polly used to say; or, “What bad +toothache Peter Simpkins has to-day—but when father sees him he will be +all right.”</p> + +<p>Polly had a great reverence for her father, although she loved her +beautiful young mother best. The children never expected Dr. Maybright +to join in their games, or to be sympathetic over their joys or their +woes. They reverenced him much, they loved him well, but he was too busy +and too great to be troubled by their little concerns. Of course, mother +was different, for mother was part and parcel of their lives.</p> + +<p>There were six tall, slim, rather straggling-looking Maybright +girls—all overgrown, and long of limb, and short of frock. Then there +came two podgy boys, greater pickles than the girls, more hopelessly +disreputable, more defiant of all authority, except mother’s. Polly was +as bad as her brothers in this respect, but the other five girls were +docility itself compared to these black lambs, whose proper names were +Charley and John, but who never had been called anything, and never +would be called anything in that select circle, but Bunny and Bob.</p> + +<p>This was the family; the more refined neighbors rather dreaded them, +and even the villagers spoke of most of them as “wondrous rampageous!” +But Mrs. Maybright always smiled when unfriendly comments reached her +ears.</p> + +<p>“Wait and see,” she would say; “just quietly wait and see—they are all, +every one of them, the sweetest and most healthy-minded children in the +world. Let them alone, and don’t interfere with them. I should not like +perfection, it would have nothing to grow to.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Maybright taught the girls herself, and the boys had a rather +frightened-looking nursery-governess, who often was seen to rush from +the schoolroom dissolved in tears; but was generally overtaken half-way +up the avenue by two small figures, nearly throttled by two pairs of +repentant little arms, while eager lips vowed, declared, and +vociferated, that they would never, never be naughty again—that they +would never tease their own sweet, sweetest of Miss Wilsons any more.</p> + +<p>Nor did they—until the next time.</p> + +<p>Polly was fourteen on that hot July afternoon when she lay on the grass +and skillfully captured the living thrushes, and held them to her +smooth, glowing young cheeks. Her birthday had been over for a whole +fortnight; it had been a day full of delight, love, and happiness, and +mother had said a word or two to the exultant, radiant child at the +close. Something about her putting away some of the childish things, and +taking up the gentler and nobler ways of first young girlhood now. She +thought in an almost undefined way of mother’s words as she held the +fluttering thrushes to her lips and kissed their downy breasts. Then had +come the unlooked-for interruption. Polly’s life seemed cloudless, and +all of a sudden there appeared a speck in the firmament—a little cloud +which grew rapidly, until the whole heavens were covered with it. Mother +had gone away for ever, and there were now nine children in the old gray +house.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r5481' id='r5481'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_6' id='Page_6'>[Pg 6]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2><h3>“BE BRAVE, DEAR.”</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Wasn’t father with her?” Polly had said when she could find her voice +late that evening. “Wasn’t father there? I thought father—I always +thought father could keep death away.”</p> + +<p>She was lying on her pretty white bed when she spoke. She had lain there +now for a couple of days—not crying nor moaning, but very still, taking +no notice of any one. She looked dull and heavy—her sisters thought her +very ill.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright said to Helen—</p> + +<p>“You must be very careful of Polly, she has had a shock, and she may +take some time recovering. I want you to nurse her yourself, Nell, and +to keep the others from the<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_7' id='Page_7'>[Pg 7]</a></span> room. For the present, at least, she must +be kept absolutely quiet—the least excitement would be very bad for +her.”</p> + +<p>“Polly never cries,” said Helen, whose own blue eyes were swollen almost +past recognition; “she never cries, she does not even moan. I think, +father, what really upset Polly so was when she heard that you—you were +there. Polly thinks, she always did think that you could keep death +away.”</p> + +<p>Here poor Helen burst into fresh sobs herself.</p> + +<p>“I think,” she added, choking as she spoke, “that was what quite broke +Polly down—losing mother, and losing faith in your power at the same +time.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad you told me this, Helen,” said Dr. Maybright, quietly. “This +alters the case. In a measure I can now set Polly’s heart at rest. I +will see her presently.”</p> + +<p>“Presently” did not mean that day, nor the next, nor the next, but one +beautiful summer’s evening just when the sun was setting, and just when +its long low western rays were streaming into the lattice-window of the +pretty little bower bed-room where Polly lay on her white bed, Dr. +Maybright opened the door and came in. He was a very tall man, and he +had to stoop as he passed under the low, old-fashioned doorway, and as +he walked across the room to Polly’s bedside the rays of the setting sun +fell on his face, and he looked more like a beautiful healing presence +than ever to the child. She was lying on her back, with her eyes very +wide open; her face, which had been bright and round and rosy, had grown +pale and small, and her tearless eyes had a pathetic expression. She +started up when she saw her father come in, gave a glad little cry, and +then, remembering something, hid her face in her hands with a moan.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright sat down in the chair which Helen had occupied the greater +part of the day. He did not take any notice of Polly’s moan, but sat +quite still, looking out at the beautiful, glowing July sunset. +Wondering at his stillness, Polly presently dropped her hands from her +face, and looked round at him. Her lips began to quiver, and her eyes to +fill.</p> + +<p>“If I were you, Polly,” said the doctor, in his most matter-of-fact and +professional manner, “I would get up and come down to tea. You are not +ill, you know. Trouble, even great trouble, is not illness. By staying +here in your room you are adding a little to the burden of all the +others. That is not necessary, and it is the last thing your mother +would wish.”</p> + +<p>“Is it?” said Polly. The tears were now brimming over in her eyes, but +she crushed back her emotion. “I didn’t want to get up,” she said, “or +to do anything right any more. She doesn’t know—she doesn’t hear—she +doesn’t care.”</p> + +<p>“Hush, Polly—she both knows and cares. She would be much better pleased +if you came down to tea to-night. I want you, and so does Helen, and so +do the other girls and the little boys. See, I will stand by the window +and wait, if you dress yourself very quickly.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_8' id='Page_8'>[Pg 8]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Give me my pocket-handkerchief,” said Polly. She dashed it to her eyes. +No more tears flowed, and by the time the doctor reached the window he +heard a bump on the floor; there was a hasty scrambling into clothes, +and in an incredibly short time an untidy, haggard-looking, but now +wide-awake, Polly stood by the doctor’s side.</p> + +<p>“That is right,” he said, giving her one of his quick, rare smiles.</p> + +<p>He took no notice of the tossed hair, nor the stained, crumpled, cotton +frock.</p> + +<p>“Take my arm, Polly,” he said, almost cheerfully. And they went down +together to the old parlor where mother would never again preside over +the tea-tray.</p> + +<p>It was more than a week since Mrs. Maybright had died, and the others +were accustomed to Helen’s taking her place, but the scene was new to +the poor, sore-hearted child who now come in. Dr. Maybright felt her +faltering steps, and knew what her sudden pause on the threshold meant.</p> + +<p>“Be brave, dear,” he whispered. “You will make it easier for me.”</p> + +<p>After that Polly would have fought with dragons rather than shed a ghost +of a tear. She slipped into a seat by her father, and crumbled her +bread-and-butter, and gulped down some weak tea, taking care to avoid +any one’s eyes, and feeling her own cheeks growing redder and redder.</p> + +<p>In mother’s time Dr. Maybright had seldom spoken. On many occasions he +did not even put in an appearance at the family tea, for mother herself +and the group of girls kept up such a chatter that, as he said, his +voice would not be heard; now, on the contrary, he talked more than any +one, telling the children one or two most interesting stories on natural +history. Polly was devoted to natural history, and in spite of herself +she suspended her tea-cup in the air while she listened.</p> + +<p>“It is almost impossible, I know,” concluded Dr. Maybright as he rose +from the table. “But it can be done. Oh, yes, boys, I don’t want either +of you to try it, but still it can be done. If the hand is very steady, +and poised in a particular way, then the bird can be caught, but you +must know how to hold him. Yes—what is the matter, Polly?”</p> + +<p>“I did it!” burst from Polly, “I caught two of them—darlings—I was +kissing them when—oh, father!”</p> + +<p>Polly’s face was crimson. All the others were staring at her.</p> + +<p>“I want you, my dear,” said her father, suddenly and tenderly. “Come +with me.”</p> + +<p>Again he drew her hand protectingly through his arm, and led her out of +the room.</p> + +<p>“You were a very good, brave child at tea-time,” he said. “But I +particularly wish you to cry. Tears are natural, and you will feel much +better if you have a good cry. Come upstairs now to Nurse and baby.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_9' id='Page_9'>[Pg 9]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Oh, no, I can’t—I really can’t see baby!”</p> + +<p>“Why not?—She is a dear little child, and when your mother went away +she left her to you all, to take care of, and cherish and love. I think +she thought specially of you, Polly, for you always have been specially +fond of little children. Come to the nursery now with me. I want you to +take care of baby for an hour, while Nurse is at her supper.”</p> + +<p>Polly did not say another word. The doctor and she went together into +the old nursery, and a moment or two afterwards she found herself +sitting in Nurse’s little straw armchair, holding a tiny red mite of a +baby on her knee. Mother was gone, and this—this was left in her place! +Oh, what did God mean? thought the woe-begone, broken-hearted child.</p> + +<p>The doctor did not leave the room. He was looking through some books, a +pile of old MS. books in one corner by the window, and had apparently +forgotten all about Polly and the baby. She held the wee bundle without +clasping it to her, or bestowing upon it any endearing or comforting +little touch, and as she looked the tears which had frozen round her +heart flowed faster and faster, dropping on the baby’s dress, and even +splashing on her tiny face.</p> + +<p>Baby did not like this treatment, and began to expostulate in a fretful, +complaining way. Instantly Polly’s motherly instincts awoke; she wiped +her own tears from the baby’s face, and raising it in her arms, pressed +its little soft velvet cheek to her own. As she did so, a thrill of warm +comfort stole into her heart.</p> + +<p>“Polly,” said her father, coming suddenly up to her, “please take good +care of baby till Nurse returns. I must go out now, I have some patients +to see, but I am going to prescribe a special little supper for you, +which Helen is to see you eat before you go to bed. Good-night, dear. +Please ask Nurse, too, if you can do anything in the morning to help her +with baby. Good-night, good-night, both of you. Why the little creature +is quite taking to you, Polly!”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright was about to leave the room when Polly called him back.</p> + +<p>“Father, I must say one thing. I have been in a dreadful, dreadful dream +since mother died. The most dreadful part of my dream, the blackest +part, was about you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Polly, yes, dear.”</p> + +<p>“You were there, father, and you let her die.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright put his arm round the trembling child, and drew her and +the baby too close to him.</p> + +<p>“Not willingly,” he said, in a voice which Polly had never heard him use +before. “Not willingly, my child. It was with anguish I let your mother +go away. But Polly, there was another physician there, greater than I.”</p> + +<p>“Another?” said Polly.</p> + +<p>“Yes, another—and He prescribed Rest, for evermore.”</p> + +<p>All her life afterwards Polly remembered these words of her father’s. +They calmed her great sorrow, and in many ways left her a different +child.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r7124' id='r7124'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_10' id='Page_10'>[Pg 10]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2><h3>QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME.</h3> +</div> + +<p>On a certain sunny morning in August, four or five weeks after Mrs. +Maybright’s death, six girls stood round Dr. Maybright in his study. +They were all dressed in deep mourning, but it was badly made and +unbecoming, and one and all looked untidy, and a little run to seed. +Their ages were as varied as their faces. Helen, aged sixteen, had a +slightly plump figure, a calm, smooth, oval face, and pretty gentle blue +eyes. Her hair was fair and wavy; she was the tidiest of the group, and +notwithstanding the heavy make of her ugly frock, had a very sweet and +womanly expression. Polly, all angles and awkwardness, came next in +years; she was tall and very slim. Her face was small, her hair nearly +black and very untidy, and her big, dark, restless eyes reflected each +emotion of her mind.</p> + +<p>Polly was lolling against the mantelpiece, and restlessly changing her +position from one leg to another; Katie, aged eleven, was something in +Helen’s style; then came the twins, Dolly and Mabel, and then a rather +pale child, with a somewhat queer expression, commonly known in the +family as “Firefly.” Her real name was Lucy, but no one ever dreamt of +calling her by this gentle title. “Firefly” was almost always in some +sort of disgrace, and scarcely knew what it was not to live in a state +of perpetual mental hot water. It was privately whispered in the family +circle that Polly encouraged her in her naughtiness. Whether that was +the case or not, these two had a kind of quaint, elfish friendship +between them, Firefly in her heart of hearts worshipping Polly, and +obeying her slightest nod or wish.</p> + +<p>“I have sent for you, girls,” said the Doctor, looking round tenderly at +his six motherless daughters, “to say that I have talked over matters +with Helen, and for the present at least, I am willing to give her plan +a trial. I think she is right when she tells me that if it turns out +successful nothing would please your mother more. It entirely depends on +yourselves whether it succeeds or fails. If you are agreeable to try it, +you can come to me to-morrow at this hour and tell me so. Now good-by, +my dears. Helen will explain everything to you. Helen, I shall not be in +for early dinner. Good-by, good-by to you all.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor nodded, looked half-abstractedly at the upturned young faces, +pushed his way through the little group, and taking up a parcel of +papers and a surgical case which lay near, went straight to his +carriage, which was heard immediately afterwards to bowl quickly down +the avenue.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_11' id='Page_11'>[Pg 11]</a></span></p> + +<p>The moment he was gone Helen was surrounded by a clamorous group.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Nell? oh, do tell us—tell us quickly,” said they, one and +all.</p> + +<p>“I thought Helen looked very important these last few days,” said Dolly. +“Do tell us what it is, Nell, and what the plan is we are all to agree +to.”</p> + +<p>“It sounds rather nice to be asked to agree to things,” said Firefly. +“What’s the matter, Poll? You look grumpy.”</p> + +<p>“I think Helen may be allowed to speak,” said Polly. “Go on, Nell, out +with the budget of news. And you young ones, you had better not +interrupt her, for if you do, I’ll pay you out by-and-by. Now, Nell. +Speak, Nell.”</p> + +<p>“It’s this,” said Helen.</p> + +<p>She seated herself on the window-ledge, and Polly stood, tall and +defiant, at her back. Firefly dropped on her knees in front, and the +others lolled about anyhow.</p> + +<p>“It’s this,” she said. “Father would like to carry on our education as +much in mother’s way as possible. And he says that he is willing, for a +time at least, to do without having a resident elderly governess to live +with us.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, good gracious!” exclaimed Polly, “was there ever such an idea +thought of?”</p> + +<p>“She’d have spectacles,” said Dolly.</p> + +<p>“And a hooked nose,” remarked Katie.</p> + +<p>“And she’d be sure to squint, and have false teeth, and I’d hate her,” +snapped Firefly, putting on her most vindictive face.</p> + +<p>“Well, it’s what’s generally done,” said Helen, in her grave, sad, +steady, young voice. “You remember the Brewsters when they—they had +their great sorrow—how an elderly governess came, and Aunt Maria +Cameron has written to father about two already. She speaks of them as +treasures; father showed me the letters. He says he supposes it is quite +the usual thing, and he asked me what I’d like. Poor father, you see he +must be out all day with the sick folks.”</p> + +<p>“Of course,” murmured Polly. “Well, what did you answer him about the +old horrors, Nell?”</p> + +<p>“One seemed rather nice,” said Helen. “She was about forty-five, and had +thin grayish hair. Aunt Maria sent her photograph, and said that she was +a treasure, and that father ought not to lose an hour in securing her. +Her name was Miss Jenkins.”</p> + +<p>“Jenkins or Jones, I’d have given her sore bones,” spitefully improvised +Firefly.</p> + +<p>“Well, she’s not to come,” continued Helen, “at least, not at present. +For I have persuaded father to let us try the other plan. He says all +our relations will be angry with him; of course, he is not likely to +care for that. This is what we are to try, girls, if you are agreeable. +Father is going to get the very best daily governess from Nettleship to +come here every morning. She will stay until after early<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_12' id='Page_12'>[Pg 12]</a></span> dinner, and +then George will drive her back to town in the pony trap. And then Mr. +Masters is to come twice a week, as usual, about our music, and Mr. +Danvers for drawing. And Miss Wilson is to stay here most of the day to +look after Bunny and Bob. That is a much better arrangement than having +a resident governess, is it not?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said three or four voices, but Polly was silent, and Firefly, +eagerly watching her face, closed her own resolute lips.</p> + +<p>“That is part of father’s plan,” continued Helen. “But the other, and +more important part is this. I am to undertake the housekeeping. Father +says he would like Polly to help me a little, but the burden and +responsibility of the whole thing rests on me. And also, girls, father +says that there must be some one in absolute authority. There must be +some one who can settle disputes, and keep things in order, and so he +says that unless you are all willing to do what I ask you to do, the +scheme must still fall through, and we must be like the Brewsters or any +other unhappy girls whose mothers are no longer with them, and have our +resident governess.”</p> + +<p>“I know you won’t like to obey me,” continued Helen, looking anxiously +round, “but I don’t think I’ll be hard on you. No, I am sure I shall not +be hard on any of you.”</p> + +<p>“That remains to be proved,” said Polly. “I don’t think I like that +plan. I won’t give any answer at present—I’ll think about it. Come +along, Fly,” she nodded to her younger sister, and then, lifting the +heavy bottom sash of the window where Helen had been sitting, stepped +lightly out, followed by the obedient Firefly.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to obey Nell,” said the little sister, clasping two of +Polly’s fingers with her thin, small hand. “If it was you, Poll Parrot, +it would be a different thing, but I don’t want to obey Nell. I don’t +think it’s fair; she’s only my sister, like the rest of them. There’s +nothing said in the Catechism about obeying sisters. It’s only fathers +and mothers, and spiritual pastors and masters.”</p> + +<p>“And all those put in authority over you,” proceeded Polly, shaking her +fingers free, and facing round on Firefly, in a way which caused that +young person to back several inches. “If Helen once gets the authority +the Catechism is on her side, not on yours.”</p> + +<p>“But I needn’t promise, need I?” pouted Firefly. “If it was you, it +would be different. I always did what you wanted me to do, Polly +Perkins.”</p> + +<p>“Of course you did,” responded Polly, in a most contemptuous voice. +“Will a duck swim? I led you into mischief—of course you followed. +Well, Fly, it rests with yourself. Don’t obey our dear, good, gentle +Nelly, and you’ll have Miss Jenkins here. Won’t it be fun to see her +squinting at you over her spectacles when she returns your +spelling-lessons. Bread and water will be your principal diet most of +the week. Well, good-by now; I’m off to baby.”</p> + +<p>Polly took to her heels, and Firefly stood for a moment or two looking +utterly miserable and irresolute on the wide gravel walk in the center +of the flower-garden. She felt very much inclined to stamp her feet and +to screw up her thin little face into contortions of rage. Even very +little girls, however, won’t go into paroxysms of anger when there is no +one there to see. Firefly’s heart was very sore, for Polly, her idol, +had spoken to her almost roughly.</p> + +<p>“I wish mother wasn’t in heaven,” she murmured in a grieved little +voice, and then she turned and walked back to the house. The nearer she +approached the study window the faster grew her footsteps. At last, like +a little torrent, she vaulted back into the room, and flung her arms +noisily round Helen’s neck.</p> + +<p>“I’ll obey you, darling Nell,” she said. “I’d much rather have you than +Miss Jenkins.”</p> + +<p>And then she sobbed aloud, and really shook herself, for she felt still +so angry with Polly.</p> + +<p>“That’s a good little Fly,” said Helen, kissing her affectionately in +return, and putting her arm round her waist, so as to establish her +comfortably on her knee. The other girls were all lying about in +different easy attitudes, and Firefly joined in the general talk, and +found herself much comforted.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r1284' id='r1284'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_13' id='Page_13'>[Pg 13]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2><h3>A SAFETY-VALVE.</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Fly caved in, didn’t she?” said Polly to her eldest sister that night.</p> + +<p>“Yes, poor little mite, she did, in a touching way,” said Helen; “but +she seemed in trouble about something. You know how reserved she is +about her feelings, but when she sat on my knee she quite sobbed.”</p> + +<p>“I was rather brutal to her,” said Polly, in a nonchalant tone, flinging +up the sash of the bed-room window as she spoke, and indulging in a +careless whistle.</p> + +<p>It was bed-time, but the girls were tempted by the moonlight night to +sit up and look out at the still, sweet beauty, and chatter together.</p> + +<p>“How could you be unkind to her?” said Helen, in a voice of dismay. +“Polly, dear, do shut that window again, or you will have a sore throat. +How could you be unkind to poor little Fly, Poll, when she is so devoted +to you?”</p> + +<p>“The very reason,” said Polly. “She’d never have gone over to you if I +hadn’t. I saw rebellion in that young ’un’s eye—that was why I called +her out. I was determined to nip it in the bud.”</p> + +<p>“But you rebelled yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and I mean to go on rebelling. I am not Fly.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Polly,” said Helen, suppressing a heavy sigh on her<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_14' id='Page_14'>[Pg 14]</a></span> own account; +“you know I don’t want you a bit to obey me. I am not a mistressing sort +of girl, and I like to consult you about things, and I want us both to +feel more or less as equals. Still father says there are quite two years +between us, and that the scheme cannot be worked at all unless some one +is distinctly at the head. He particularly spoke of you, Polly, and said +that if you would not agree we must go back to the idea of Miss Jenkins, +or that he will let this house for a time, and send us all to school.”</p> + +<p>“A worse horror than the other,” said Polly. “I wouldn’t be a +school-girl for all you could give me! Why, the robin’s nest might be +discovered by some one else, and my grubs and chrysalides would come to +perfection without me. No, no; rather than that—can’t we effect a +compromise, Nell?”</p> + +<p>“What is it?” asked Helen. “You know <i>I</i> am willing to agree to +anything. It is father.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes; poor Nell, you’re the meekest and mildest of mortals. Now, +look here, wouldn’t this be fun?”</p> + +<p>Polly’s black eyes began to dance.</p> + +<p>“You know how fond I always was of housekeeping. Let me housekeep every +second week. Give me the money and let me buy every single thing and pay +for it, and don’t interfere with me whatever I do. I’ll promise to be as +good as gold always, and obey you in every single thing, if only I have +this safety-valve. Let me expend myself upon the housekeeping, and I’ll +be as good, better than gold. I’ll help you, and be your right hand, +Nell; and I’ll obey you in the most public way before all the other +girls, and as to Fly, see if I don’t keep her in hand. What do you think +of this plan, Nell? I, with my safety-valve, the comfort of your life, a +sort of general to keep your forces in order.”</p> + +<p>“But you really can’t housekeep, Polly. Of course I’d like to please +you, and father said himself you were to help me in the house. But to +manage everything—why, it frightens me, and I am two years older.”</p> + +<p>“But you have so very little spirit, darling. Now it doesn’t frighten me +a bit, and that’s why I’m so certain I shall succeed splendidly. Look +here, Nell, let me speak to father, myself; if he says ‘yes,’ you won’t +object, will you?”</p> + +<p>“Of course not,” said Helen.</p> + +<p>“You are a darling—I’ll soon bring father round. Now, shall we go to +bed?—I am so sleepy.”</p> + +<p>The next morning at breakfast Polly electrified her brothers and sisters +by the very meek way in which she appealed to Helen on all occasions.</p> + +<p>“Do you think, Nell, that I ought to have any more of this marmalade on +fresh bread? I ate half a pot yesterday on three or four slices of hot +bread from the oven, and felt quite a dizzy stupid feeling in my head +afterwards.”</p> + +<p>“Of course, how could you expect it to agree with you, Polly?” said +Helen, looking up innocently from her place at the tea-tray.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_15' id='Page_15'>[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Had better have a little of this stale bread-and-butter then, dear?” +proceeded Polly in a would-be anxious tone.</p> + +<p>“Yes, if you will, dear. But you never like stale bread-and-butter.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll eat it if you wish me to, Helen,” answered Polly, in a very meek, +good little voice.</p> + +<p>The two boys began to chuckle, and even Dr. Maybright looked at his +second daughter in a puzzled, abstracted way. Helen, too, colored +slightly, and wondered what Polly meant. But the young lady herself +munched her stale bread with the most immovable of faces, and even held +up the slice for Helen to scrutinize, with the gentle, good little +remark—“Have I put too much butter on it, Nell? It isn’t right to waste +nice good butter, is it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Polly, how dreadful you are?” said Fly.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” said Polly, fiercely.</p> + +<p>She dropped her meek manners, gave one quick glare at the small speaker, +and then half turning her back on her, said in the gentlest of voices, +“What would you like me to do this morning, Helen? Shall I look over my +history lesson for an hour, and then practise scales on the piano?”</p> + +<p>“You may do just as you please, as far as I am concerned,” replied +Helen, who felt that this sort of obedience was far worse for the others +than open rebellion. “I thought you wanted to see father, Polly. He has +just gone into his study, and perhaps he will give you ten minutes, if +you go to him at once.”</p> + +<p>This speech of Helen’s caused Polly to forget her role of the meek, +obedient martyr. Her brow cleared.</p> + +<p>“Thank you for reminding me, Nell,” she said, in her natural voice, and +for a moment later she was knocking at the Doctor’s study door.</p> + +<p>“Come in,” he said. And when the untidy head and somewhat neglected +person of his second daughter appeared, Dr. Maybright walked towards +her.</p> + +<p>“I am going out, Polly, do you want me?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, it won’t take a minute,” said Polly, eagerly. “May I housekeep +every second week instead of Nell? Will you give me the money instead of +her, and let me pay for everything, and buy the food. I am awfully +interested in eggs and butter, and I’ll give you splendid puddings and +cakes. Please say yes, father—Nell is quite willing, if you are.”</p> + +<p>“How old are you, Polly?” said Dr. Maybright.</p> + +<p>He put his hand under Polly’s chin and raised her childish face to +scrutinize it closely.</p> + +<p>“What matter about my age,” she replied; “I’m fourteen in body—I’m +twenty in mind—and as to housekeeping, I’m thirty, if not forty.”</p> + +<p>“That head looks very like thirty, if not forty,” responded the Doctor +significantly. “And that dress,” glancing at where the hem was torn, and +where the body gaped open for want of sufficient hooks, “looks just the +costume I should recommend for the matron of a large establishment. Do +you know what it means to housekeep for this family, Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Buy the bread and butter, and the meat, and the poultry, and the tea, +and the sugar, and the citron, and raisins, and allspice, and nutmegs, +and currants, and flour, and brick-bat, and hearthstone, and—and——”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright put his fingers to his ears. “Spare me any more,” said he, +“I never ask for items. There are in this house, Polly, nine children, +myself, and four servants. That makes in all fourteen people. These +people have to be fed and clothed, and some of them have to be paid +wages too; they have to be warmed, they have to be kept clean, in short, +all their comforts of body have to be attended to; one of them requires +one thing, one quite another. For instance, the dinner which would be +admirably suited to you would kill baby, and might not be best for +Firefly, who is not strong, and has to be dieted in a particular way. I +make it a rule that servants’ wages and all articles consumed in the +house are paid for weekly. Whoever housekeeps for me has to undertake +all this, and has to make a certain sum of money cover a certain +expenditure. Now do you think, Polly—do you honestly think—that you, +an ignorant little girl of fourteen, a very untidy and childish little +girl, can undertake this onerous post? I ask you to answer me quite +honestly—if you undertake it, are you in the least likely to succeed?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, father, I know you mean to crush me when you speak like that; but +you know you told Helen that you would like her to try to manage the +housekeeping.”</p> + +<p>“I did—and, as I know you are fond of domestic things, I meant you to +help her a little. Helen is two years older than you, and—not the least +like you, Polly.”</p> + +<p>Polly tossed her head.</p> + +<p>“I know that,” she said. “Helen takes twice as long learning her +lessons. Try my French beside hers, father; or my German, or my music.”</p> + +<p>“Or your forbearance—or your neatness,” added the Doctor.</p> + +<p>Here he sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>“I miss your mother, Polly,” he said. “And poor, poor child! so do you. +There, I can’t waste another minute of my time with you now. Come to my +study this evening at nine, and we will discuss the matter further.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r2750' id='r2750'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_16' id='Page_16'>[Pg 16]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2><h3>POLLY’S RAID.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Polly spent some hours of that day in a somewhat mysterious occupation. +Instead of helping, as she had done lately, in quite an efficient way, +with the baby, for she was<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_17' id='Page_17'>[Pg 17]</a></span> a very bright child, and could be most +charming and attractive to the smallest living creature when she chose, +she left nurse and the little brown-eyed baby to their own devices, and +took up a foraging expedition through the house. She called it her raid, +and Polly’s raid proved extremely disturbing to the domestic economy of +the household. For instance, when Susan, the very neat housemaid, had +put all the bedrooms in perfect order, and was going to her own room to +change her dress and make herself tidy, it was very annoying to hear +Polly, in a peremptory tone, desiring her to give her the keys of the +linen-press.</p> + +<p>“For,” said that young lady, “I’m going to look through the towels this +morning, Susan, to see which of them want darning, and you had better +stay with me, to take away those that have thin places in them.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear me, Miss Polly,” said Susan, rather pertly, “the towels is +seen to in the proper rotation. You needn’t be a fretting your head +about ’em, miss. This ain’t the morning for the linen-press, miss. It’s +done at its proper time and hour.”</p> + +<p>“Give me the key at once, Susan, and don’t answer,” said Polly. “There, +hold your apron—I’ll throw the towels in. What a lot—I don’t believe +we want half as many. When I take the reins of office next week, I’ll +put away quite half of these towels. There can’t be waste going on in +the house—I won’t have it, not when I housekeep, at any rate. Susan, +wasn’t that a little round speck of a hole in that towel? Ah, I thought +so. You put it aside, Susan, you’ll have to darn it this afternoon. Now +then, let me see, let me see.”</p> + +<p>Polly worked vigorously through the towels, holding them up to the light +to discover their thin places, pinching them in parts, and feeling their +texture between her finger and thumb. In the end she pronounced about a +dozen unworthy of domestic service, and Susan was desired to spend her +afternoon in repairing them.</p> + +<p>“I can’t, then, Miss Polly,” said the much injured housemaid. “It ain’t +neither the day nor the hour, and I haven’t got one scrap of proper +darning thread left.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll go to the village, then, and get some,” said Polly. “It’s only a +mile away. Things can’t be neglected—it isn’t right. Take the towels, +Susan, and let me find them mended to-morrow morning;” and the young +lady tripped off with a very bright color in her cheeks, and the key of +the linen-press in her pocket.</p> + +<p>Her next visit was to the kitchen regions.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Mrs. Power,” she said to the cook, “I’ve come to see the stores. It +isn’t right that they shouldn’t be looked into, is it, in case of +anything falling short. Fancy if you were run out of pearl barley, Mrs. +Power, or allspice, or nutmegs, or mace. Oh, dear, it makes me quite +shiver to think of it! What a mess you would be in, if you hadn’t all +your ingredients handy, in case you were making a plum-cake, or<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_18' id='Page_18'>[Pg 18]</a></span> some of +those dear little tea-cakes, or a custard, or something of that sort. +Now, if you’ll just give me the keys, we’ll pay a visit to the +store-room, and see what is likely to be required. I have my tablet +here, and I can write the order as I look through.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Power was a red-faced and not a very good-humored woman. She was, +however, an excellent cook and a careful, prudent servant. Mrs. +Maybright had found her, notwithstanding her very irascible temper, a +great comfort, for she was thoroughly honest and conscientious, but even +from her late mistress Mrs. Power would never brook much interference; +it is therefore little to be wondered at that Polly’s voluminous speech +was not very well received.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Power’s broad back was to the young lady, as she danced gleefully +into the kitchen, and it remained toward her, with one ear just slightly +turned in her direction, all the time she was speaking.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Power was busy at the moment removing the fat from a large vessel +full of cold soup. She has some pepper and salt, and nutmegs and other +flavoring ingredients on the table beside her, and when Polly’s speech +came to a conclusion she took up the pepper canister and certainly +flavored the soup with a very severe dose.</p> + +<p>“If I was you, I’d get out of the hot kitchen, child—I’m busy, and not +attending to a word you’re talking about.”</p> + +<p>No answer could have been more exasperating to Polly. She, too, had her +temper, and had no idea of being put down by twenty Mrs. Powers.</p> + +<p>“Take care, you’re spoiling the soup,” she said. “That’s twice too much +pepper—and oh, what a lot of salt! Don’t you know, Mrs. Power, that +it’s very wicked to waste good food in that way—it is, really, perhaps +you did not think of it in that light, but it is. I’m afraid you can’t +ever have attended any cookery classes, Mrs. Power, or you’d know better +than to put all that pepper into that much soup. Why it ought to be—it +ought to be—let me see, I think it’s the tenth of an ounce to half a +gallon of soup. I’m not quite sure, but I’ll look up the cookery +lectures and let you know. Now, where’s the key of the store-room—we’d +better set to work for the morning is going on, and I have a great deal +on my hands. Where’s the key of the store-room, Mrs. Power?”</p> + +<p>“There’s only one key that I know much about at the present moment,” +replied the exasperated cook, “and that’s the key of the kitchen-door; +come, child—I’m going to put you on the other side of it;” and so +saying, before Polly was in the least aware of her intention, she was +caught up in Mrs. Power’s stalwart arms, and placed on the flags outside +the kitchen, while the door was boldly locked in her face.</p> + +<p>This was really a check, almost a checkmate, and for a time Polly quite +shook with fury, but after a little she sufficiently recovered herself +to reflect that the reins of authority had not yet been absolutely +placed in her hands, and it might be wisest for her to keep this defeat +to herself.</p> + +<p>“Poor old Power! you won’t be here long when I’m housekeeper,” reflected +Polly. “It would not be right—you’re not at all a good servant. Why, I +know twice as much already as you do.”</p> + +<p>She went slowly upstairs, and going to the school-room, where the girls +were all busying themselves in different fashions, sat down by her own +special desk, and made herself very busy dividing a long old-fashioned +rosewood box into several compartments by means of stout cardboard +divisions. She was really a clever little maid in her own way, and the +box when finished looked quite neat. Each division was labeled, and +Polly’s cheeks glowed as she surveyed her handiwork.</p> + +<p>“What a very queer box,” said Dolly, coming forward. “What are you so +long about, Poll Parrot? And, oh, what red cheeks!”</p> + +<p>“Never you mind,” said Polly, shutting up her box. “It’s finished now, +and quite ready for father to see to-night. I’m going to become a very +important personage, Miss Doll—so you’d better begin to treat me with +respect. Oh, dear, where’s the cookery book? Helen, do you know where +the ”Lectures on Elementary Cookery“ is? Just fancy, Nell, cook doesn’t +know how much pepper should go to a gallon of soup! Did you ever hear of +such shameful ignorance?”</p> + +<p>“Why, you surely have not been speaking to her on the subject?” said +Helen, who was busily engaged darning Bunny’s socks; she raised her head +and looked at Polly in some surprise as she spoke.</p> + +<p>“Oh, have I not, though?” Polly’s charming, merry face twinkled all +over.</p> + +<p>“I saw Susan crying just now,” interposed Mabel. “She said Polly had +been—why, what is the matter, Poll?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” said Poll, “only if I were you, Mabel, I wouldn’t tell tales +out of school. I’m going to be a person of importance, so if you’re +wise, all of you, you’ll keep at my blind side. Oh dear! where is that +cookery book? Girls, you may each tell me what puddings you like best, +and what cake, and what dish for breakfast, and——”</p> + +<p>But here the dinner gong put an end to a subject of much interest.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r7214' id='r7214'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_19' id='Page_19'>[Pg 19]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2><h3>THE GROWN-UPS.</h3> +</div> + +<p>In the evening Polly had her interview with her father. Dr. Maybright +had gone through a long and fatiguing day; some anxious cases caused him +disquiet, and his recent sorrow lay heavily against his heart. How was +the father of seven daughters, and two very scampish little sons, to<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_20' id='Page_20'>[Pg 20]</a></span> +bring them up alone and unaided? How was a man’s own heart to do without +the sympathy to which it had turned, the love which had strengthened, +warmed, and sustained it? Dr. Maybright was standing by the window, +looking out at the familiar garden, which showed shadowy and indistinct +in the growing dusk, when Polly crept softly into the room, and, going +up to his side, laid her pretty dimpled hand on his arm.</p> + +<p>“Now, father,” she said, eagerly, “about the housekeeping? I’m all +prepared—shall we go into the subject now?”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright sighed, and with an effort roused himself out of a reverie +which was becoming very painful.</p> + +<p>“My little girl,” he said, pushing back the tumbled hair from Polly’s +sunshiny face. Then he added, with a sudden change of manner, “Oh, what +a goose you are, Polly—you know as much about housekeeping as I do, and +that is nothing at all.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t make bold assertions,” replied Polly, saucily—“I wouldn’t +really, father dear; I couldn’t cure a sick person, of course not, but I +could make a very nice cake for one.”</p> + +<p>“Well, let’s go into the matter,” said the Doctor moving to his study +table. “I have a quarter of an hour to give you, my dear, then I want to +go into the village to see Mrs. Judson before she settles for the night; +she has a nasty kind of low fever about her, and her husband is anxious, +so I promised to look in. By the way, Polly, don’t any of you go nearer +the Judsons’ house until I give you leave; walk at the other side of the +village, if you must go there at all. Now, my dear, about this +housekeeping. Are you seriously resolved to force your attentions upon +us for a week? We shall certainly all be most uncomfortable, and severe +attacks of indigestion will probably be the result. Is your heart set on +this, Polly, child? For, if so—well, your mother never thwarted you, +did she?”</p> + +<p>“No, father, never—but don’t talk of mother, for I don’t think I can +bear it. When I was with mother somehow or other, I don’t know why, I, +never wished for anything she did not like.”</p> + +<p>“Just so, my dear child. Turn up the lamp, if you please, Polly—sit +there, will you—I want to see your face. Now I will reply to the first +part of your last remark. You asked me not to speak of your mother, my +dear; I certainly will mention her name to her children. She has gone +away, but she is still one with us. Why should our dearest household +word be buried? Why should not her influence reach you and Helen and +Dolly from where she now is? She is above—she has gone into the higher +life, but she can lead you up. You understand me, Polly. Thoughts of +your mother must be your best, your noblest thoughts from this out.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, father, yes,” said Polly. Her lips were trembling,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_21' id='Page_21'>[Pg 21]</a></span> her eyes were +brimful, she clasped and unclasped her hands with painful tension.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright bent forward and kissed her on her forehead.</p> + +<p>“Your mother once said to me,” he continued, in a lighter tone, “Polly +is the most peculiar and difficult to manage of all my children. She has +a vein of obstinacy in her which no persuasion will overcome. It can +only be reached by the lessons which experience teaches. If possible, +and where it is not absolutely wrong, I always give Polly her own way. +She is a truthful child, and when her eyes are opened she seldom asks to +repeat the experiment.”</p> + +<p>“Mother was thinking of the hive of honey,” said Polly, gravely. “When I +worried her dreadfully she let me go and take some honey away. I thought +I could manage the bees just as cleverly as Hungerford does, but I got +nervous just at the end, and I was stung in four places. I never told +any one about the stings, only mother found out.”</p> + +<p>“You did not fetch any more honey from that hive, eh, Polly?” asked the +Doctor.</p> + +<p>“No, father. And then there was another time—and oh, yes, many other +times. But I did not know mother was just trying to teach me, when she +seemed so kind and sympathizing, and used to say in that voice of +hers—you remember mother’s cheerful voice, father?—‘Well, Polly, it is +a difficult thing, but do your best.’”</p> + +<p>“All right, child,” said the Doctor, “I perceive that your mother’s plan +was a wise one. Tell me quickly what ideas you have with regard to +keeping this establishment together, for it is almost time for me to run +away to Mrs. Judson. I allow eight pounds a week for all household +expenses, servants’ wages, coal, light, food, medicine. I shall not +allow you to begin with so much responsibility, but for a week you may +provide our table.”</p> + +<p>“And see after the servants, please, father?” interrupted Polly, in an +eager voice.</p> + +<p>“Well, I suppose so, just for one week, that is, after Helen has had her +turn. Your mother always managed, with the help of the vegetables and +fruit from the garden, to bring the mere table expenses into four pounds +a week; but <i>she</i> was a most excellent manager.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, father, I can easily do it too. Why it’s a lot of money! four +pounds—eighty shillings! I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if I did it for +less.”</p> + +<p>“Remember, Polly, I allow no stinting; we must have a plentiful table. +No stinting, and no running in debt. Those are the absolute conditions, +otherwise I do not trust you with a penny.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll keep them, father—never fear! Oh, how delighted I am! I know +you’ll be pleased; I know what you’ll say by-and-by. I’m certain I won’t +fail, certain. I always loved cooking and housekeeping. Fancy making +pie-crust myself,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_22' id='Page_22'>[Pg 22]</a></span> and cakes, and custards! Mrs. Power is rather cross, +but she’ll have to let me make what things I choose when I’m +housekeeper, won’t she, father?”</p> + +<p>“Manage it your own way, dear, I neither interfere nor wish to +interfere. Oh, what a mess we shall be in! But thank heaven it is only +for a week. My dear child, I allow you to have your way, but I own it is +with trepidation. Now I must really go to Mrs. Judson.”</p> + +<p>“But one moment, please, father. I have not shown you my plan. You think +badly of me now, but you won’t, indeed you won’t presently. I am all +system, I assure you. I see my way so clearly. I’ll retrench without +being mean, and I’ll economize without being stingy. Don’t I use fine +words, father? That’s because I understand the subject so thoroughly.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so, Polly. Now I must be going. Good-night, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“But my plan—you must stay to hear it. Do you see this box? It has +little divisions. I popped them all in before dinner to-day. There is a +lock and key to the box, and the lock is a strong one.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Polly?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor began to get into his overcoat.</p> + +<p>“Look, father, dear, please look. Each little division is marked with a +name. This one is Groceries, this one is Butcher, this is Milk, butter, +and eggs, this is Baker, this is Cheesemonger, and this is Sundries—oh +yes, and laundress, I must screw in a division for laundress somehow. +Now, father, this is my delightful plan. When you give me my four +pounds—my eighty shillings—I’ll get it all changed into silver, and +I’ll divide it into equal portions, and drop so much into the grocery +department, so much into the butcher’s, so much into the baker’s. Don’t +you see how simple it will be?”</p> + +<p>“Very, my dear—the game of chess is nothing to it. Goodnight, Polly. I +sincerely hope no serious results will accrue from these efforts on my +part to teach you experience.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor walked quickly down the avenue.</p> + +<p>“I’m quite resolved,” he said to himself, “to bring them all up as much +as possible on their mother’s plan, but if Polly requires many such +lessons as I am forced to give her to-night, there is nothing for it but +to send her to school. For really such an experience as we are about to +go through at her hands is enough to endanger health, to say nothing of +peace and domestic quiet. The fact is, I really am a much worried man. +It’s no joke bringing up seven motherless girls, each of them with +characters; the boys are a simple matter—they have school before them, +and a career of some sort, but the girls—it really is an awful +responsibility. Even the baby has a strong individuality of her own—I +see it already in her brown eyes—bless her, she has got her mother’s +eyes. But my queer, wild, clever Polly—what a week we<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_23' id='Page_23'>[Pg 23]</a></span> shall have with +you presently! Now, who is that crying and sobbing in the dark?”</p> + +<p>The Doctor swooped suddenly down on a shadowy object, which lay prone +under an arbutus shrub. “My dear little Firefly, what <i>is</i> the matter? +You ought to be in bed ages ago—out here in the damp and cold, and such +deep-drawn sobs! What has nurse been about? This is really extremely +careless.”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t nurse’s fault,” sobbed Firefly, nestling her head into her +father’s cheek. “I ran away from her. I hided from her on purpose.”</p> + +<p>“Then you were the naughty one. What is the matter, dear? Why do you +make things worse for me and for us all just now?”</p> + +<p>Firefly’s head sank still lower. Her hot little cheek pressed her +father’s with an acute longing for sympathy. Instinct told him of the +child’s need. He walked down the avenue, holding her closely.</p> + +<p>“Wasn’t you going the other way, father?” asked Firefly, squeezing her +arms tight around his neck.</p> + +<p>“No matter, I must see you home first. Now what were those sobs about? +And why did you hide yourself from nurse?”</p> + +<p>“’Cause I wanted to be down-stairs, to listen to the grown-ups.”</p> + +<p>“The grown-ups? My dear, who are they?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Nell, and Poll Parrot, and Katie; I don’t mind about Nell and +Polly, but it isn’t fair that Katie should be made a grown-up—and she +is—she is, really, father. She is down in the school-room so important, +and just like a regular grown-up, so I couldn’t stand it.”</p> + +<p>“I see. You wanted to be a grown-up too—you are seven years old, are +you not?”</p> + +<p>“I’m more. I’m seven and a half—Katie is only eleven.”</p> + +<p>“Quite so! Katie is young compared to you, isn’t she, Firefly. Still, I +don’t see my way. You wished to join the grown-ups, but I found you +sobbing on the damp grass under one of the shrubs near the avenue. Is it +really under a damp arbutus shrub that the grown-ups intend to take +counsel?”</p> + +<p>“Oh no, father, no—” here the sobs began again. “They were horrid, oh +they were horrid. They locked me out—I banged against the door, but +they wouldn’t open. It was then I came up here. I wouldn’t have minded +if it hadn’t been for Katie.”</p> + +<p>“I see, my child. Well, run to bed now, and leave the matter in father’s +hands. Ask nurse to give you a hot drink, and not to scold, for father +knows about it.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Darling</i> father—oh, how good you are! Don’t I love you! Just another +kiss—<i>what</i> a good father you are!”</p> + +<p>Firefly hugged the tall doctor ecstatically. He saw her disappear into +the house, and once more pursued his way down the avenue.</p> + +<p>“Good!” he echoed to himself. “Never did a more harassed man walk. How +am I to manage those girls?”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r9895' id='r9895'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_24' id='Page_24'>[Pg 24]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2><h3>SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME?</h3> +</div> + +<p>Helen and Polly were seated together in the pleasant morning-room. Helen +occupied her mother’s chair, her feet were on a high footstool, and by +her side, on a small round table, stood a large basket filled with a +heterogeneous collection of odd socks and stockings, odd gloves, pieces +of lace and embroidery, some wool, a number of knitting needles, in +short, a confused medley of useful but run-to-seed-looking articles +which the young housekeeper was endeavoring to reduce out of chaos into +order.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Polly, how you have tangled up all this wool; and where’s the +fellow of this gray glove? And—Polly, Polly—here’s the handkerchief +you had such a search for last week. Now, how often do you intend me to +put this basket in order for you?”</p> + +<p>“Once a week, dear, if not oftener,” answered Polly, in suave tones. +“Please don’t speak for a moment or two, Nell. I’m so much interested in +this new recipe for pie-crust. You melt equal portions of lard and +butter in so much boiling water—that’s according to the size of the +pie; then you mix it into the flour, kneading it very +well—and—and—and—” Polly’s voice dropped to a kind of buzz, her head +sank lower over the large cookery-book which she was studying; her +elbows were on the table, her short curling hair fell over her eyes, and +a dimpled hand firmly pressed each cheek.</p> + +<p>Helen sighed slightly, and returned with a little gesture of resignation +to the disentangling of Polly’s work-basket. As she did so she seated +herself more firmly in her mother’s arm-chair. Her little figure looked +slight in its deep and ample dimensions, and her smooth fair face was +slightly puckered with anxiety.</p> + +<p>“Polly,” she said, suddenly; “Polly, leave that book alone. There’s more +in the world than housekeeping and pie-crust. Do you know that I have +discovered something, and I think, I really do think, that we ought to +go on with it. It was mother’s plan, and father will always agree to +anything she wished.”</p> + +<p>Polly shut up Mrs. Beaton’s cookery-book with a bang, rose from her seat +at the table, and opening the window sat down where the wind could +ruffle her hair and cool her hot cheeks.</p> + +<p>“This is Friday,” she said, “and my duties begin on Monday. Helen, +pie-crust is not unimportant when success or failure hangs upon it; +puddings may become vital, Helen, and, as to cheesecakes, I would stake +everything I possess<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_25' id='Page_25'>[Pg 25]</a></span> in the world on the manner in which father munches +my first cheesecake. Well, dear, never mind; I’ll try and turn my +distracted thoughts in your direction for a bit. What’s the discovery?”</p> + +<p>“Only,” said Helen, “that I think I know what makes father look so gray, +and why he has a stoop, and why his eyes seem so sunken. Of course there +is the loss of our mother, but that is not the only trouble. I think he +has another, and I think also, Polly, that he had this other trouble +before mother died, and that she helped him to bear it, and made plans +to lighten it for him. You remember what one of her plans was, and how +we weren’t any of us too well pleased. But I have been thinking lately, +since I began to guess father’s trouble, that we ought to carry it out +just the same as if our mother was with us.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Polly. “You have a very exciting way of putting things, +Nell, winding one up and up, and not letting in the least little morsel +of light. What is father’s trouble, and what was the plan? I can’t +remember any plan, and I only know about father that he’s the noblest of +all noble men, and that he bears mother’s loss—well, as nobody else +would have borne it. What other trouble has our dear father, Nell? God +wouldn’t be so cruel as to give him another trouble.”</p> + +<p>“God is never cruel,” said Helen, a beautiful, steadfast light shining +in her eyes. “I couldn’t let go the faith that God is always good. But +father—oh, Polly, Polly, I am dreadfully afraid that father is going to +lose his sight.”</p> + +<p>“What?” said Polly. “<i>What?</i> father lose his sight? No, I’m not going to +listen to you, Nell. You needn’t talk like that. It’s perfectly horrid +of you. I’ll go away at once and ask him. Father! Why, his eyes are as +bright as possible. I’ll go this minute and ask him.”</p> + +<p>“No, don’t do that, Polly. I would never have spoken if I wasn’t really +sure, and I don’t think it would be right to ask him, or to speak about +it, until he tells us about it himself. But I began to guess it a little +bit lately, when I saw how anxious mother seemed. For she was anxious, +although she was the brightest of all bright people. And after her death +father said I was to look through some of her letters; and I found one +or two which told me that what I suspected was the case, and father +may—indeed, he probably will—become quite blind, by-and-by. That +was—that was—What’s the matter, Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Nothing,” said Polly. “You needn’t go on—you needn’t say any more. +It’s a horrid world, nothing is worth living for; pie-crust, nor +housekeeping, nor nothing. I hate the world, and every one in it, and I +hate <i>you</i> most of all, Nell, for your horrid news. Father blind! No, I +won’t believe it; it’s all a lie.”</p> + +<p>“Poor Polly,” said Helen. “Don’t believe it, dear, I wish <i>I</i> didn’t. I +think I know a little bit how you feel. I’m not<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_26' id='Page_26'>[Pg 26]</a></span> so hot and hasty and +passionate as you, and oh, I’m not half, nor a quarter, so clever, but +still, I do know how you feel; I—Polly, you startle me.”</p> + +<p>“Only you don’t hate me at this moment,” said Polly. “And I—don’t I +hate you, just! There, you can say anything after that. I know I’m a +wretch—I know I’m hopeless. Even mother would say I was hopeless if she +saw me now, hating you, the kindest and best of sisters. But I do, yes, +I do, most heartily. So you see you aren’t like me, Helen.”</p> + +<p>“I certainly never hated any one,” said Helen. “But you are excited, +Polly, and this news is a shock to you. We won’t talk about it one way +or other, now, and we’ll try as far as possible not to think of it, +except in so far as it ought to make us anxious to carry out mother’s +plan.”</p> + +<p>Polly had crouched back away from the window, her little figure all +huddled up, her cheeks with carnation spots on them, and her eyes, +brimful of the tears which she struggled not to shed, were partly hidden +by the folds of the heavy curtain which half-enveloped her.</p> + +<p>“You were going to say something else dreadfully unpleasant,” she +remarked. “Well, have it out. Nothing can hurt me very much just now.”</p> + +<p>“It’s about the strangers,” said Helen. “The strangers who were to come +in October. You surely can’t have forgotten them, Polly.”</p> + +<p>Like magic the thunder-cloud departed from Polly’s face. The tears dried +in her bright eyes, and the curtain no longer enveloped her slight, +young figure.</p> + +<p>“Why, of course,” she said. “The strangers, how could I have forgotten! +How curious we were about them. We didn’t know their names. Nothing, +nothing at all—except that there were two, and that they were coming +from Australia. I always thought of them as Paul and Virginia. Dear, +dear, dear, I shall have more housekeeping than ever on my shoulders +with them about the place.”</p> + +<p>“They were coming in October,” said Helen, quietly. “Everything was +arranged, although so little was known. They were coming in a sailing +vessel, and the voyage was to be a long one, and mother, herself, was +going to meet them. Mother often said that they would arrive about the +second week in October.”</p> + +<p>“In three weeks from now?” said Polly, “We are well on in September, +now. I can’t imagine how we came to forget Paul and Virginia. Why, of +course, poor children, they must be quite anxious to get to us. I wonder +if I’d be a good person to go and meet them. You are so shy with +strangers, you know, Nell, and I’m not. Mother used to say I didn’t know +what <i>mauvaise honte</i> meant. I don’t say that I <i>like</i> meeting them, +poor things, but I’ll do it, if it’s necessary. Still, Helen, I cannot +make out what special plan there is in the strangers coming. Nor what it +has to do with<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_27' id='Page_27'>[Pg 27]</a></span> father, with that horrid piece of news you told me a few +minutes ago.”</p> + +<p>“It has a good deal to say to it, if you will only listen,” said Helen. +“I have discovered by mother’s letters that the father of the strangers +is to pay to our father £400 a year as long as his children live here. +They were to be taught, and everything done for them, and the strangers’ +father was to send over a check for £100 for them every quarter. Now, +Polly, listen. Our father is not poor, but neither is he rich, and +if—if what we fear is going to happen, he won’t earn nearly so much +money in his profession. So it seems a great pity he should lose this +chance of earning £400 a year.”</p> + +<p>“But nobody wants him to lose it,” said Polly. “Paul and Virginia will +be here in three weeks, and then the pay will begin. £400 a year—let me +see, that’s just about eight pounds a week, that’s what father says he +spends on the house, that’s a lot to spend, I could do it for much less. +But no matter. What are you puckering your brows for, Helen? Of course +the strangers are coming.”</p> + +<p>“Father said they were not to come,” replied Helen. “He told me so some +weeks ago. When they get to the docks he himself is going to meet them, +and he will take them to another home which he has been inquiring about. +He says that we can’t have them here now.”</p> + +<p>“But we must have them here,” said Polly. “What nonsense! We must both +of us speak to our father at once.”</p> + +<p>“I have been thinking it over,” said Helen, in her gentle voice, “and I +do really feel that it is a pity to lose this chance of helping father +and lightening his cares. You see, Polly, it depends on us. Father would +do it if he could trust us, you and me, I mean.”</p> + +<p>“Well, so he can trust us,” replied Polly, glibly. “Everything will be +all right. There’s no occasion to make a fuss, or to be frightened. We +have got to be firm, and rather old for our years, and if either of us +puts down her foot she has got to keep it down.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that at all,” said Helen. “Mother sometimes said it was +wise to yield. Oh, Polly, I don’t feel at all wise enough for all that +is laid on me. We have to be examples in everything. I do want to help +father, but it would be worse to promise to help him and then to fail.”</p> + +<p>“I’m not the least afraid,” said Polly. “The strangers must come, and +father’s purse must be filled in that jolly manner. I don’t believe the +story about his eyes, Nell, but it will do him good to feel that he has +got a couple of steady girls like us to see to him. Now I’m arranging a +list of puddings for next week, so you had better not talk any more. +We’ll speak to father about Paul and Virginia after dinner.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r2520' id='r2520'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_28' id='Page_28'>[Pg 28]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2><h3>LIMITS.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Even the wisest men know very little of household management, and never +did an excellent and well-intentioned individual put, to use a +well-known phrase, his foot more completely into it than Dr. Maybright +when he allowed Polly to learn experience by taking the reins of +household management for a week.</p> + +<p>Except in matters that related to his own profession, Dr. Maybright was +apt to be slightly absent-minded; here he was always keenly alive. When +visiting a patient not a symptom escaped him, not a flicker of timid +eyelids passed unnoticed, not a passing shade of color on the invalid’s +countenance but called for his acute observation. In household matters, +however, he was apt to overlook trifles, and very often completely to +forget what seemed to his family important arrangements. He was the kind +of man who was sure to be very much beloved at home, for he was neither +fretful nor fussy, but took large views of all things. Such people are +appreciated, and if his children thought him the best of all men, his +servants also spoke of him as the most perfect of masters.</p> + +<p>“You might put anything before him,” Mrs. Power would aver. “Bless his +’art, <i>he</i> wouldn’t see, nor <i>he</i> wouldn’t scold. Ef it were rinsings of +the tea-pot he would drink it instead of soup; and I say, and always +will say, that ef a cook don’t jelly the soup for the like of a +gentleman like the doctor what have no mean ways and no fusses, she +ain’t fit to call herself a cook.”</p> + +<p>So just because they loved him, Dr. Maybright’s servants kept his table +fairly well, and his house tolerably clean, and the domestic machinery +went on wheels, not exactly oiled, but with no serious clog to their +progress.</p> + +<p>These things of course happened since Mrs. Maybright’s death. In her day +this gentlest and firmest of mistresses, this most tactful of women, +kept all things in their proper place, and her servants obeyed her with +both will and cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>On the Saturday before Polly’s novitiate poor Dr. Maybright’s troubles +began. He had completely forgotten all about his promise to Polly, and +was surprised when the little girl skipped into his study after +breakfast, with her black frock put on more neatly than usual, her hair +well brushed and pushed off her face, and a wonderful brown holland +apron enveloping her from her throat to her ankles. The apron had +several pockets, and certainly gave Polly a quaint and original +appearance.</p> + +<p>“Here I am, father,” she said. “I have come for the money, please.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_29' id='Page_29'>[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p>“The—the what, my dear?”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright put up his eye-glass, and surveyed the little figure +critically.</p> + +<p>“Are these pockets for your school-books?” he said. “It is not a bad +idea; only don’t lose them, Polly. I don’t like untidy books scattered +here and there.”</p> + +<p>Polly took the opportunity to dart a quick, anxious glance into her +father’s eyes—they were bright, dark, clear. Of course Helen’s horrid +story was untrue. Her spirits rose, she gave a little skip, and clasped +her hands on the Doctor’s arm.</p> + +<p>“These are housekeeping pockets, father,” she said. “Nothing at all to +say to books. I’m domestic, not intellectual; my housekeeping begins on +Monday, you know, and I’ve come for the eighty shillings now. Can you +give it to me in silver, not in gold, for I want to divide it, and pop +it into the little box with divisions at once?”</p> + +<p>“Bless me,” said the Doctor, “I’d forgotten—I did not know that +indigestion week was so near. Well, here you are, Polly, two pounds in +gold and two pounds in silver. I can’t manage more than two sovereigns’ +worth of silver, I fear. Now my love, as you are strong, be +merciful—give us only small doses of poison at each meal. I beseech of +you, Polly, be temperate in your zeal.”</p> + +<p>“You laugh at me,” said Polly, “Well, never mind. I’m too happy to care. +I don’t expect you’ll talk about poisoning when you have eaten my +cheesecakes. And father, dear father, you <i>will</i> let Paul and Virginia +come? Nell and I meant to speak to you yesterday about them, but you +were out all day. With me to housekeep, and Nell to look after +everybody, you needn’t have the smallest fear about Paul and Virginia; +they can come and they can line your pockets, can’t they?”</p> + +<p>“My dear child, I have not an idea what you are talking about. Who <i>are</i> +Paul and Virginia—have I not a large enough family without taking in +the inhabitants of a desert island? There, I can’t wait to hear +explanations now; that is my patients’ bell—run away, my dear, run +away.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright always saw his poorer patients gratis on Saturday morning +from ten to twelve. This part of his work pleased him, for he was the +sort of man who thought that the affectionate and grateful glance in the +eye, and the squeeze of the hand, and the “God bless you, doctor,” paid +in many cases better than the guinea’s worth. He had an interesting case +this morning, and again Polly and her housekeeping slipped from his +mind. He was surprised, therefore, in the interim between the departure +of one patient and the arrival of another, to hear a somewhat tremulous +tap at his study door, and on his saying “Come in,” to see the pretty +but decidedly ruffled face of his housemaid Alice presenting herself.</p> + +<p>“Ef you please, Doctor, I won’t keep you a minute, but I<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_30' id='Page_30'>[Pg 30]</a></span> thought I’d +ask you myself ef it’s your wish as Miss Polly should go and give orders +that on Monday morning I’m to turn the linen-press out from top to +bottom, and to do it first of all before the rooms is put straight. And +if I’m to unpick the blue muslin curtains, and take them down from where +they was hung by my late blessed mistress’s orders, in the spare room, +and to fit them into the primrose room over the porch—for she says +there’s a Miss Virginy and a Master Paul coming, and the primrose room +with the blue curtains is for one of them, she says. And I want to know +from you, please, Doctor, if Miss Polly is to mistress it over me? And +to take away the keys of the linen-press from me, and to follow me +round, and to upset all my work, what I never stood, nor would stand. I +want to know if it’s your wish, Doctor?”</p> + +<p>“The fact is, Alice,” began the Doctor—he put his hand to his brow, and +a dim look came over his eyes—“the fact is—ah, that is my patients’ +bell, I must ask you to go, Alice, and to—to moderate your feelings. I +have been anxious to give Miss Polly a lesson in experience, and it is +only for a week. You will oblige me very much, Alice, by helping me in +this matter.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor walked to the door as he spoke, and opened it courteously.</p> + +<p>“Come in, Johnson,” he said, to a ruddy-faced farmer, who was +accompanied by a shy boy with a swelled face. “Come in; glad to see you, +my friend. Is Tommy’s toothache better?”</p> + +<p>Alice said afterwards that she never felt smaller in her life than when +Dr. Maybright opened the study door to show her out.</p> + +<p>“Ef I’d been a queen he couldn’t have done it more elegant,” she +remarked. “Eh, but he’s a blessed man, and one would put up with two +Miss Pollys for the sake of serving him.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor having conquered Alice, again forgot his second daughter’s +vagaries, but a much sterner and more formidable interview was in store +for him; it was one thing to conquer Alice, who was impressionable, and +had a soft heart, and another to encounter the stony visage and rather +awful presence of Mrs. Power.</p> + +<p>“It’s to give notice I’ve come, Dr. Maybright,” she said, dropping a +curtsey, and twisting a corner of her large white apron round with one +formidable red hand. “It’s to give notice. This day month, please, +Doctor, and, though I says it as shouldn’t, you won’t get no one else to +jelly your soups, nor feather your potatoes, nor puff your pastry, as +Jane Power has done. But there’s limits, Dr. Maybright; and I has come +to give you notice, though out of no disrespect to you, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then why do you do it, Mrs. Power?” said the Doctor. “You are an honest +and conscientious servant, I know that from your late mistress’s +testimony. You cook very good<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_31' id='Page_31'>[Pg 31]</a></span> dinners too, and you make suitable +puddings for the children, and pastry not too rich. Why do you want to +leave? I don’t like change; and, if it is a question of wages, perhaps I +may be able to meet you.”</p> + +<p>“I’m obligated to you, Doctor; but it ain’t that. I has my twenty-two +pounds paid regular, and all found. I ain’t grumbling on that score, and +Jane Power was never havaricious nor grasping. I’m obligated too by what +you says with respect to the pastry; but, Doctor, it ain’t in mortal +woman to stand a chit of a child being put over her. So I’m going this +day month; and, with your leave, I’ll turn the key in the kitchen-door +next week, or else I’ll forfeit my wage and go at once.”</p> + +<p>“Dear, dear,” said the Doctor. “This is really embarrassing. I never +thought that Polly’s experience would upset the household economy in so +marked a manner. I am really annoyed, for I certainly gave her leave to +housekeep for a week.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t as I minds youth, Dr. Maybright,” continued Mrs. Power. “I +makes due allowances for the young, for I says to myself, ‘Jane Power, +you was once, so to speak, like an unfledged chick yourself;’ but +there’s youth <i>and</i> youth, Dr. Maybright; and Miss Polly’s of the kind +as makes your ’air stand on hend.”</p> + +<p>“Poor Polly,” said the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“No, sir, begging your parding, if you was in the kitchen, it’s ‘poor +Mrs. Power’ you’d be a-saying. Now I don’t say nothing agin Miss +Nelly—she’s the elder, and she have nice ways with her—she takes a +little bit after my poor dear mistress; oh, what a nature was hers, +blessed angel!”</p> + +<p>Here Mrs. Power rolled her eyes skywards, and the Doctor, turning his +back, walked to the window.</p> + +<p>“Be brief,” he said, “I am pressed for time.”</p> + +<p>“Sir, I was never one for long words; agen’ Miss Helen I haven’t a word +to say. She comes down to the kitchen after breakfast as pretty as you +please, and she says, ‘Power,’ says she, ‘you’ll advise me about the +dinner to-day,’ says she. ‘Shall we have minced collops, or roast beef? +And shall we have fruit tart with custard?’ Pretty dear, she don’t know +nothink, and she owns it, and I counsel her, as who that wasn’t the most +hard-hearted would. But Miss Polly, she’s all on wires like, and she +bounds in and she says that I pepper the soup too strong, and that I +ought to go to cookery schools, and ef I’ll go with her that blessed +minit she’ll tell me what I wants in my own storeroom. There’s limits. +Dr. Maybright, and Miss Polly’s my limits; so, ef you’ll have no +objection, sir, I’ll go this day month.”</p> + +<p>“But I have an objection,” replied Dr. Maybright. “Even Polly’s +experiment must not cost me a valuable servant. Mrs. Power, I have +promised my little girl, and I feel more than convinced that her week’s +trial will ensure to you the freedom you desire and deserve in the +future. Listen, I have a plan. Suppose you go for a week’s holiday on +Monday?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, my word, sir! And are you to be poisoned hout and hout?”</p> + +<p>“That is unlikely. Maggie, your kitchen-maid, is fond of cooking, and +she won’t quarrel with Miss Polly. Let us consider it arranged, then. A +week’s holiday won’t do you any harm, cook, and your expenses I will +defray. Now, excuse me, I must go out at once. The carriage has been at +the door for some time.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r1300' id='r1300'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_32' id='Page_32'>[Pg 32]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2><h3>INDIGESTION WEEK.</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was quite early on the following Monday morning when a light tap was +heard outside the door of the room where Helen and Polly slept. It was a +very light, modest, and uncertain tap, and it has not the smallest +effect upon Helen, who lay in soft slumber, her pretty eyes closed, her +gentle face calm and rounded and child-like, and the softest breathing +coming from her rosy, parted lips.</p> + +<p>Another little girl, however, was not asleep. At that modest tap up +sprang a curly head, two dark, bright eyes opened wide, two white feet +sprang quickly but noiselessly on to the floor, and Polly had opened the +bed-room door wide to admit the short, dumpy, but excited little person +of Maggie, the kitchen-maid.</p> + +<p>“She’s a-going, Miss Polly—she’s a-packing her bandbox now, and putting +the strap on. She’s in a hawful temper, but she’ll be out of the house +in less than half an hour. There’s a beautiful fire in the kitchen, +Miss, and the pan for frying bacon is polished up so as you could ’most +see yourself in it. And the egg-saucepan is there all ’andy, and the +kettle fizzing and sputtering. I took cook up her breakfast, but she +said she didn’t want none of our poisonous messes, and she’d breakfast +with her cousin in the village if we’d no objection. She’ll be gone in +no time now, Miss Polly, and I’m a-wanting to know when you’ll be +a-coming down stairs.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to dress immediately, Maggie,” said Polly. “I’ve scarcely +slept all night, for this is an anxious moment for me. I’ll join you in +half an hour at the latest, Maggie, and have lots of saucepans and +frying-pans and gridirons ready. Keep the fire well up too, and see that +the oven is hot. There, fly away, I’ll join you soon.”</p> + +<p>Maggie, who was only sixteen herself, almost skipped down the passage. +After the iron reign of Mrs. Power, to work for Polly seemed like play +to her.</p> + +<p>“She’s a duck,” she said to herself, “a real cozy duck of a young lady. +Oh, my word, won’t we spin through the stores this week! Won’t we just!”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Polly was hastily getting into her clothes. She<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_33' id='Page_33'>[Pg 33]</a></span> did not wish +to wake Helen, for she was most anxious that no one should know that on +the first morning of her housekeeping she had arisen soon after six +o’clock. Her plans were all laid beforehand, and a wonderfully +methodical and well arranged programme, considering her fourteen years, +was hers; she was all agog with eagerness to carry it out.</p> + +<p>“Oh, won’t they have a breakfast this morning,” she said to herself. +“Won’t they open their eyes, and won’t Bob and Bunny look greedy. And +Firefly—I must watch Firefly over those hot cakes, or she may make +herself sick. Poor father and Nell—they’ll both be afraid at first that +I’m a little too lavish and inclined to be extravagant, but they’ll see +by-and-by, and they’ll acknowledge deep down in their hearts that there +never was such a housekeeper as Polly.”</p> + +<p>As the little maid dreamed these pleasant thoughts she scrambled +somewhat untidily into her clothes, gave her hair a somewhat less +careful brush than usual, and finally knelt down to say her morning +prayer. Helen still slept, and Polly by a sudden impulse chose to kneel +by Helen’s bed and not her own. She pressed her curly head against the +mattress, and eagerly whispered her petitions. She was excited and +sanguine, for this was to her a moment of triumph; but as she prayed a +feeling of rest and yet of longing overpowered her.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am happy to-day,” she murmured—“but oh, mother, oh, mother, I’d +give everything in all the wide world to have you back again! I’d live +on bread and water—I’d spend years in a garret just for you to kiss me +once again, mother, mother!”</p> + +<p>Helen stirred in her sleep, for Polly’s last impulsive words were spoken +aloud.</p> + +<p>“Has mother come back?” she asked.</p> + +<p>Her eyes were closed, she was dreaming. Polly bent down and answered +her.</p> + +<p>“No,” she said. “It is only me—the most foolish of all her children, +who wants her so dreadfully.”</p> + +<p>Helen sighed, and turned her head uneasily, and Polly, wiping away some +moisture from her eyes, ran out of the room.</p> + +<p>Her housekeeping apron was on, her precious money box was under her arm, +the keys of the linen-press jingled against a thimble and a couple of +pencils in the front pocket of the apron. Polly was going down stairs to +fulfill her great mission; it was impossible for her spirits long to be +downcast. The house was deliciously still, for only the servants were up +at present, but the sun sent in some rays of brightness at the large +lobby windows, and the little girl laughed aloud in her glee.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, sun! it is nice of you to smile at me the first morning +of my great work. It is very good-natured of you to come instead of +sending that disagreeable friend of yours, Mr. Rain. Oh, how delicious +it is to be up early.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_34' id='Page_34'>[Pg 34]</a></span> Why, it is not half-past six yet—oh, what a +breakfast I shall prepare for father!”</p> + +<p>In the kitchen, which was a large, cheerful apartment looking out on the +vegetable garden, Polly found her satellite, Maggie, on the very tiptoe +of expectation.</p> + +<p>“I has laid the servants’ breakfast in the ’all, Miss Polly; I thought +as you shouldn’t be bothered with them, with so to speak such a lot on +your hands this morning. So I has laid it there, and lit a fire for +them, and all Jane has to do when she’s ready is to put the kettle on, +for the tea’s on the table in the small black caddy, so there’ll be no +worriting over them. And ef you please, Miss Polly, I made bold to have +a cup of tea made and ready for you, Miss—here it is, if you please, +Miss, and a cut off the brown home-made loaf.”</p> + +<p>“Delicious,” said Polly; “I really am as hungry as possible, although I +did not know it until I saw this nice brown bread-and-butter. Why, you +have splendid ideas in you, Maggie; you’ll make a first-rate cook yet. +But now”—here the young housekeeper thought it well to put on a severe +manner—“I must know what breakfast you have arranged for the servants’ +hall. It was good-natured of you to think of saving me trouble, Maggie, +but please understand that during this week you do nothing on your own +responsibility. <i>I</i> am the housekeeper, and although I don’t say I am +old, I am quite old enough to be obeyed.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, Miss,” said Maggie, who had gone to open her oven, and poke +up the fire while Polly was speaking; “it’s a weight off my shoulders, +Miss, for I wasn’t never one to be bothered with thinking. Mother says +as I haven’t brains as would go on the top of a sixpenny-bit, so what’s +to be expected of me, Miss. There, the oven’s all of a beautiful glow, +and ’ull bake lovely. You was asking what breakfast I has put in the +servants’ ’all—well, cold bacon and plenty of bread, and a good pat of +the cooking butter. Why, Miss Polly, oh, lor, what is the matter, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“Only that you have done very wrong, Maggie,” said Polly. “You would not +like to have lots of good things going up to the dining-room, and have +no share yourself. I call it selfish of you, Maggie, for of course you +knew you would be in the kitchen with me, and would be sure to come in +for bits. Cold bacon, indeed! Poor servants, they’re not likely to care +for my housekeeping if that is all I provide for them! No, Maggie, when +I made out my programme, I thought of the servants as well as the +family. I will just refer to my tablets, Maggie, and see what breakfast +I arranged for the hall for Monday morning.”</p> + +<p>While Polly was speaking Maggie opened her eyes and mouth wider and +wider and when the young lady read aloud from her tablets she could not +suppress an expostulatory “oh!”</p> + +<p>“Monday—kitchen breakfast,” read Polly—“Bacon, eggs, marmalade, +sardines. Hot coffee, fresh rolls, if possible.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_35' id='Page_35'>[Pg 35]</a></span></p> + +<p>“My word, but that is wasteful,” said Maggie.</p> + +<p>Polly’s cheeks flushed. She glanced at her small handmaid, raised her +hand in a reproving manner, and continued to read—</p> + +<p>“Dining-room breakfast: Hot scones, baked muffins, eggs and bacon, +deviled kidneys, scrambled eggs, a dish of kippered herrings, marmalade, +honey, jam, tea and coffee. Oh, and chocolate for Firefly.”</p> + +<p>“My word, Miss,” again exclaimed Maggie. “It’s seven o’clock now, and +the Doctor likes his breakfast sharp on the table at eight. If we has to +get all this ready in an hour we had better fly round and lose no more +time. I’ll see to the ’all, bless your kind ’eart, Miss Polly, but we’d +better get on with the dining-room breakfast, or there’ll be nothing +ready in anything like time. Will you mix up the cakes, Miss Polly, +while I sees to the kidneys, and to the bacon and eggs, and the +scrambled eggs, and the kippers. My word, but there’ll be a power more +sent up than can be eaten. But whatever goes wrong we should have the +cakes in the oven, Miss Polly.”</p> + +<p>Polly did not altogether approve of Maggie’s tone, but time did press; +the kitchen clock already pointed to five minutes past seven; it was +much easier to write out a programme upstairs at one’s leisure in the +pleasant morning-room than to carry it out in a hurry, in the hot +kitchen, particularly when one’s own knowledge was entirely theoretical, +not practical. Yes, the kitchen was very hot, and time never seemed to +fly so fast.</p> + +<p>“First of all, open the window, Maggie; it is wrong to have rooms so hot +as this,” said the young housekeeper, putting on her most authoritative +air.</p> + +<p>“No, Miss, that I mustn’t,” said Maggie, firmly. “You’d cool down the +oven in less than five minutes. Now, shall I fetch you the flour and +things from the store-room, Miss? Why, dear me, your cheeks has peonyed +up wonderful. You’re new to it yet, Miss, but you’ll soon take it +quiet-like. Cold bacon is a very nice breakfast for the ’all, Miss, and +cooking butter’s all that servants is expected to eat of. Now shall I +fetch you the flour and the roller, and the milk, Miss Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, get them,” said Polly. She felt decidedly annoyed and cross. “I +wish you would not talk so much, Maggie,” she said, “go and fetch the +materials for the hot cakes.”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t know yet what I’m to get, Miss. Is it a dripping cake, or +is it a cream cake, or is it a butter-and-egg cake? I’ll bring you +things according, Miss Polly, if you’ll be so good as to instruct me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh dear, oh dear,” said Polly, “you make my head go round, when you +mention so many kinds of cake, Maggie. I really thought you knew +something of cooking. I just want <i>hot cakes</i>. I don’t care what kind +they are; oh, I suppose we had better have the richest to-day. Get the +material for the butter-and-egg cake, Maggie, and do be quick.”</p> + +<p>Thus admonished, Maggie did move off with a dubious look on her face in +the direction of the store-room.</p> + +<p>“She don’t know nothing, poor dear,” she said to herself; “she aims +high—she’s eat up with ambition, but she don’t know nothing. It’s lucky +we in the ’all is to have the cold bacon. <i>I</i> don’t know how to make a +butter-and-egg hot cake—oh, my word, a fine scolding Mrs. Power will +give us when she comes back.”</p> + +<p>Here Maggie approached the store-room door. Then she uttered a loud and +piercing exclamation and flew back to Polly.</p> + +<p>“She’s gone and done us, Miss Polly,” she exclaimed. “She’s gone and +done us! Cook’s off, and the key of the store-room in her pocket. +There’s nothing for breakfast, Miss Polly—no eggs, no butter, no +marmalade, no sugar, no nothing.”</p> + +<p>Poor Polly’s rosy, little face turned white.</p> + +<p>“It can’t be true,” she said. And she flew down the passage to the +store-room herself. Alas! only to peep through the key-hole, for the +inhospitable door was firmly locked, and nowhere could the key be +discovered.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r6784' id='r6784'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_36' id='Page_36'>[Pg 36]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2><h3>A—WAS AN APPLE PIE.</h3> +</div> + +<p>The first day of Polly’s housekeeping was long remembered in the +household. In the first place, the breakfast, though fairly abundant, +was plain. A large piece of cold bacon graced one end of the board, a +brown loaf stood on a trencher in the center, and when Helen took her +place opposite the tea-tray she found herself provided with plenty of +milk and sugar, certainly, and a large tea-pot of strong tea, but the +sugar was brown. No butter, no marmalade, no jams, no hot cakes, graced +the board. The children spoke of the fare as severe, and the Doctor’s +dark brown eyes twinkled as he helped his family to abundant slices of +cold bacon.</p> + +<p>“Not a word,” he said, in a loud aside to his boys and girls. “I did not +think it was in Polly to be so sensible. Why, we shall get through +indigestion week quite comfortably, if she provides us with plain, +wholesome fare like this.”</p> + +<p>Polly took her own place at the table rather late. Her cheeks were still +peonyed, as Maggie expressed it, her eyes were downcast, her spirits +were decidedly low, and she had a very small appetite.</p> + +<p>After breakfast she beat a hasty retreat, and presently the boys rushed +in in great excitement, to announce to Helen and Katie the interesting +fact that Polly was walking across the fields accompanied by Maggie, +each of them laden with a large market-basket.</p> + +<p>“They are almost running, both of them,” exclaimed Bunny, “and pretty +Poll is awful cross, for when we wanted to<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_37' id='Page_37'>[Pg 37]</a></span> go with her she just turned +round and said we’d have a worse dinner than breakfast if we didn’t +leave her alone.”</p> + +<p>“We ran away quickly enough after that,” continued Bob, “for we didn’t +want no more cold-bacon and no-butter meals. We had a nasty breakfast +to-day, hadn’t we, Nell? And Poll is a bad housekeeper, isn’t she?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, leave her alone, do,” said Helen. “She is trying her very best. Run +out and play, boys, and don’t worry about the meals.”</p> + +<p>The two boys, known in the family as “the scamps,” quickly took their +departure, and Katie began to talk in her most grown-up manner to Helen. +Katie was a demure little damsel, she was fond of using long words, and +thought no one in the world like Helen, whom she copied in all +particulars.</p> + +<p>“Poll is too ambitious, and she’s sure to fail,” she began. But Helen +shut her up.</p> + +<p>“If Polly does fail, you’ll be dreadfully sorry, I’m sure, Katie,” she +said. “I know I shall be sorry. It will make me quite unhappy, for I +never saw any one take more pains about a thing than Polly has taken +over her housekeeping. Yes, it will be very sad if Polly fails; but I +don’t think she will, for she is really a most clever girl. Now, Katie, +will you read your English History lesson aloud?”</p> + +<p>Katie felt crushed. In her heart of hearts she thought even her beloved +Helen a little too lenient.</p> + +<p>“Never mind,” she said to herself, “won’t Dolly and Mabel have a fine +gossip with me presently over the breakfast Polly gave us this morning.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the anxious, small housekeeper was making her way as rapidly +as possible in the direction of the village.</p> + +<p>“We haven’t a minute to lose, Maggie,” she said, as they trudged along. +“Can you remember the list of things I gave you to buy at the grocery +shop? It is such a pity you can’t read, Maggie, for if you could I’d +have written them down for you.”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t the Board’s fault, nor my mother’s,” answered Maggie, glibly. +“It was all on account of my brain being made to fit on the top of a +sixpence. Yes, Miss, I remembers the list, and I’ll go to Watson’s and +the butcher’s while you runs on to the farm for the butter and eggs.”</p> + +<p>“You have got to get ten things,” proceeded Polly; “don’t forget, ten +things at the grocer’s. You had better say the list over to me.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Miss Polly, ten; I can tick one off on each finger: white +sugar, coffee, rice, marmalade, strawberry jam, apricot jam, mustard, +pickles—is they mixed or plain, Miss Polly?—raisins, currants. There, +Miss, I has them all as pat as possible.”</p> + +<p>“Well, stop a minute,” said Polly. “I’m going to unlock my box now. Hold +it for me, Maggie, while I open it. Here, I’m going to take +half-a-sovereign out of the grocery division.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_38' id='Page_38'>[Pg 38]</a></span> You must take this +half-sovereign to Watson’s, and pay for the things. I have not an idea +how much they cost, but I expect you’ll have a good lot of change to +give me. After that, you are to go on to the butcher’s, and buy four +pounds of beef-steak. Here is another half-sovereign that you will have +to pay the butcher out of. Be sure you don’t mix the change, Maggie. Pop +the butcher’s change into one pocket, and the grocer’s change into +another. Now, do you know what we are going to have for dinner?”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss, I’m sure I don’t. I expect it’ll sound big to begin with, and +end small, same as the breakfast did. Why, Miss Polly, you didn’t think +cold bacon good enough for the servants, and yet you set it down in the +end afore your pa.”</p> + +<p>Polly looked hard at Maggie. She suddenly began to think her not at all +a nice girl.</p> + +<p>“I was met by adversity,” she said. “It is wrong of you to speak to me +in that tone, Maggie; Mrs. Power behaved very badly, and I could not +help myself; but she need not think she is going to beat me, and +whatever I suffer, I scorn to complain. To-night, after every one is in +bed, I am going to make lots of pies and tarts, and cakes, and +cheesecakes. You will have to help me; but we will talk of that +by-and-by. Now, I want to speak about the dinner. It must be simple +to-day. We will have a beef-steak pudding and pancakes. Do you know how +to toss pancakes, Maggie?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, lor’, Miss,” said Maggie, “I did always love to see mother at it. +She used to toss ’em real beautiful, and I’m sure I could too. That’s a +very nice dinner, Miss, ’olesome and good, and you’ll let me toss the +pancakes, won’t you, Miss Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Well, you may try, Maggie. But here we are at the village. Now, please, +go as quickly as possible to Watson’s, and the butcher’s, and meet me at +this stile in a quarter of an hour. Be very careful of the change, +Maggie, and be sure you put the butcher’s in one pocket and the grocer’s +in another. Don’t mix them—everything depends on your not mixing them, +Maggie.”</p> + +<p>The two girls parted, each going quickly in opposite directions. Polly +had a successful time at the farm, and when she once again reached the +turnstile her basket contained two dozen new-laid eggs, two or three +pounds of delicious fresh butter, and a small jug of cream. The farmer’s +wife, Mrs. White, had been very pleased to see her, and had complimented +her on her discernment in choosing the butter and eggs. Her spirits were +now once again excellent, and she began to forget the sore injury Mrs. +Power had done her by locking the store-room door.</p> + +<p>“It’s all lovely,” she said to herself; “it’s all turning out as +pleasant as possible. The breakfast was nothing, they’d have forgotten +the best breakfast by now, and they’ll have such a nice dinner. I can +easily make a fruit tart for father, as well as the pancakes, and won’t +he enjoy Mrs. White’s nice<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_39' id='Page_39'>[Pg 39]</a></span> cream? It was very good of her to give it to +me; and it was very cheap, too—only eighteenpence. But, dear me, dear +me, how I wish Maggie would come!”</p> + +<p>There was no sign, however, of any stout, unwieldy young person walking +down the narrow path which led to the stile. Strain her eyes as she +would, Polly could not see any sign of Maggie approaching. She waited +for another five minutes, and then decided to go home without her.</p> + +<p>“For she may have gone round by the road,” she said to herself, +“although it was very naughty of her if she did so, for I told her to be +sure to meet me at the turnstile. Still I can’t wait for her any longer, +for I must pick the fruit for my tart, and I ought to see that Alice is +doing what I told her about the new curtains.”</p> + +<p>Off trotted Polly with her heavy basket once again across the fields. It +was a glorious September day, and the soft air fanned her cheeks and +raised her already excited spirits. She felt more cheerful than she had +done since her mother died, and many brilliant visions of hope filled +her ambitious little head. Yes, father would see that he was right in +trusting her; Nell would discover that there was no one so clever as +Polly; Mrs. Power would cease to defy her; Alice would obey her +cheerfully; in short, she would be the mainstay and prop of her family.</p> + +<p>On her way through the kitchen-garden Polly picked up a number of fallen +apples, and then she went quickly into the house, to be met on the +threshold by Firefly.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Poll Parrot, may I come down with you to the kitchen? I’d love to +see you getting the dinner ready, and I could help, indeed I could. The +others are all so cross; that is, all except Nell. Katie <i>is</i> in a +temper, and so are Dolly and Mabel; but I stood up for you, Poll Parrot, +for I said you didn’t mean to give us the very nastiest breakfast in the +world. I said it was just because you weren’t experienced enough to know +any better—that’s what I said, Poll.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you made a great mistake then,” said Polly. “Not experienced, +indeed! as if I didn’t know what a good breakfast was like. I had a +misfortune; a dark deed was done, and I was the victim, but I scorn to +complain, I let you all think as you like. No, you can’t come to the +kitchen with me, Firefly; it isn’t a fit place for children. Run away +now, <i>do</i>.”</p> + +<p>Poor Fly’s small face grew longing and pathetic, but Polly was obdurate.</p> + +<p>“I can’t have children about,” she said to herself, and soon she was +busy peeling her apples and preparing her crust for the pie. She +succeeded fairly well, although the water with which she mixed her dough +would run all over the board, and her nice fresh butter stuck in the +most provoking way to the rolling-pin. Still, the pie was made, after a +fashion, and Polly felt very happy, as she amused herself cutting out +little ornamental leaves from what remained of<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_40' id='Page_40'>[Pg 40]</a></span> her pastry to decorate +it. It was a good-sized tart, and when she had crowned it with a wreath +of laurel leaves she thought she had never seen anything so handsome and +appetizing. Alas, however, for poor Polly, the making of this pie was +her one and only triumph.</p> + +<p>The morning had gone very fast, while she was walking to the village +securing her purchases, and coming home again. She was startled when she +looked at the kitchen clock to find that it pointed to a quarter past +twelve. At the same time she discovered that the kitchen fire was nearly +out, and that the oven was cold. Father always liked the early dinner to +be on the table sharp at one o’clock; it would never, never do for +Polly’s first dinner to be late. She must not wait any longer for that +naughty Maggie; she must put coals on the fire herself, and wash the +potatoes, and set them on to boil.</p> + +<p>This was scarcely the work of an ordinary lady-like housekeeper; but +Polly tried to fancy she was in Canada, or in even one of the less +civilized settlements, where ladies put their hands to anything, and +were all the better for it.</p> + +<p>She had a great hunt to find the potatoes, and when she had washed +them—which it must be owned she did not do at all well—she had still +greater difficulty in selecting a pot which would hold them. She found +one at last, and with some difficulty placed it on the kitchen-range. +She had built up her fire with some skill, but was dismayed to find +that, try as she would, she could get no heat into the oven. The fact +was, she had not the least idea how to direct the draught in the right +direction; and although the fire burned fiercely, and the potatoes soon +began to bubble and smoke, the oven, which was to cook poor Polly’s +tart, remained cold and irresponsive.</p> + +<p>Well, cold as it was, she would put her pie in, for time was flying as +surely it had never flown before and it was dreadful to think that there +would be nothing at all for dinner but potatoes.</p> + +<p>Oh, why did not that wicked Maggie come! Really Polly did not know that +any one could be quite so depraved and heartless as Maggie was turning +out. She danced about the kitchen in her impatience, and began to think +she understood something of the wickedness of those cities described in +the Bible, which were destroyed by fire on account of their sins, and +also of the state of the world before the Flood came.</p> + +<p>“They were all like Maggie,” she said to herself. “I really never heard +of any one before who was quite so hopelessly bad as Maggie.”</p> + +<p>The kitchen clock pointed to the half hour, and even to twenty minutes +to one. It was hopeless to think of pancakes now—equally hopeless to +consider the possibilities of a beefsteak pudding. They would be very +lucky if they had steak in any form. Still, if Maggie came at once that +might be<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_41' id='Page_41'>[Pg 41]</a></span> managed, and nice potatoes, beef-steak, apple-tart and cream +would be better than no dinner at all.</p> + +<p>Just at this moment, when Polly’s feelings were almost reduced to +despair, she was startled by a queer sound, which gradually came nearer +and nearer. It was the sound of some one sobbing, and not only sobbing, +but crying aloud with great violence. The kitchen door was suddenly +burst open, and dishevelled, tear-stained, red-faced Maggie rushed in, +and threw herself on her knees at Polly’s feet.</p> + +<p>“I has gone and done it, Miss Polly,” she exclaimed. “I was +distraught-like, and my poor little bit of a brain seemed to give way +all of a sudden. Mother’s in a heap of trouble, Miss Polly. I went round +to see her, for it was quite a short cut to Watson’s, round by mother’s, +and mother she were in an awful fixing. She hadn’t nothing for the rent, +Miss Polly, ’cause the fruit was blighted this year; and the landlord +wouldn’t give her no more grace, ’cause his head is big and his heart is +small, same as ’tis other way with me, Miss Polly, and the bailiffs was +going to seize mother’s little bits of furniture, and mother she was +most wild. So my head it seemed to go, Miss Polly, and I clutched hold +of the half-sovereign in the butcher’s pocket, and the half-sovereign in +the grocer’s pocket, and I said to mother, ‘Miss Polly’ll give ’em to +you, ’cause it’s a big heart as Miss Polly has got. They was meant for +the family dinner, but what’s dinner compared to your feelings.’ So +mother she borrowed of the money, Miss Polly, and I hasn’t brought home +nothink; I hasn’t, truly, miss.”</p> + +<p>Maggie’s narrative was interspersed with very loud sobs, and fierce +catches of her breath, and her small eyes were almost sunken out of +sight.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I know you’re mad with me,” she said, in conclusion. “But what’s +dinner compared with mother’s feelings. Oh, Miss Polly, don’t look at me +like that!”</p> + +<p>“Get up,” said Polly, severely. “You are just like the people before the +Flood; I understand about them at last. I cannot speak to you now, for +we have not a moment to lose. Can you make the oven hot? There are only +potatoes for dinner, unless the apple tart can be got ready in time.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, lor’! Miss Polly, I’ll soon set that going—why, you has the wrong +flue out, Miss. See now, the heat’s going round it lovely. Oh, what an +elegant pie you has turned out, Miss Polly! Why, it’s quite wonderful! +You has a gift in the cookery line, Miss. Oh, darling Miss Polly, don’t +you be a-naming of me after them Flooders; it’s awful to think I’m like +one of they. It’s all on account of mother, Miss Polly. It would have +gone to your heart, Miss Polly, if you seen mother a-looking at the +eight-day clock and thinking of parting from it. Her tears made channels +on her cheeks, Miss Polly, and it was ’eart-piercing to view her. Oh, do +take back them words, Miss Polly. Don’t say as I’m a Flooder.”</p> + +<p>Polly certainly had a soft heart, and although nothing could have +mortified her more than the present state of affairs, she made up her +mind to screen Maggie, and to be as little severe to her as she could.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r9353' id='r9353'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_42' id='Page_42'>[Pg 42]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2><h3>POTATOES—MINUS POINT.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Dr. Maybright had reason again to congratulate himself when he sat down +to a humble dinner of boiled potatoes.</p> + +<p>“If this regimen continues for a week,” he said, under his breath, “we +must really resort to tonics. I perceive I did Polly a gross injustice. +She does not mean to make us ill with rich living.”</p> + +<p>The doctor ate his potatoes with extreme cheerfulness, remarking as he +did so on their nutritive qualities, and explaining to his discontented +family how many people lived on these excellent roots. “The only thing +we want,” he said, “is a red herring; we might then have that most +celebrated of all Irish dishes—‘potatoes and point.’”</p> + +<p>“Do tell us what that is, father,” said Helen, who was anxious to draw +the direful glances of the rest of the family from poor Polly.</p> + +<p>“‘Potatoes and point,’” said Dr. Maybright, raising his head for a +moment, while a droll glance filled his eye, “is a simple but economical +form of diet. The herring is hung by a string over the center of the +board, and each person before he eats his potato points it at the +herring; by so doing a subtle flavor of herring is supposed to be +imparted to the potato. The herring lasts for some time, so the diet is +really a cheap one. Poll, dear, what is the matter? I never saw these +excellent apples of the earth better cooked.”</p> + +<p>Polly was silent; her blushing cheeks alone betrayed her. She was +determined to make a good meal, and was sustained by the consciousness +that she had not betrayed Maggie, and the hope that the apple-tart would +prove excellent.</p> + +<p>It certainly was a noble apple-pie, and the faces of the children quite +cheered up at the sight of it. They were very hungry, and were not +particular as to the quality of the crust. Mrs. White’s cream, too, was +delicious, so the second part of Polly’s first dinner quite turned out a +success.</p> + +<p>After the meal had come to an end, Helen called her second sister aside.</p> + +<p>“Polly,” she said, “I think we ought to speak to father now about the +strangers’ coming. Time is going on, and if they come we ought to begin +to prepare for them, and the more I think of it the more sure I am that +they ought to come.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Polly. “Only, is this a good time to speak to father? +For I am quite sure he must be vexed with me.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_43' id='Page_43'>[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You must not think so, Polly,” said Helen, kissing her. “Father has +given you a week to try to do your best in, and he won’t say anything +one way or another until the time is up. Come into his study now, for I +know he is there, and we really ought to speak to him.”</p> + +<p>Polly’s face was still flushed, but the Doctor, who had absolutely +forgotten the simplicity of his late meal, received both the girls with +equal affection.</p> + +<p>“Well, my loves,” he said, “can I do anything for you? I am going for a +pleasant drive into the country this afternoon. Would you both like to +come?”</p> + +<p>“I should very much,” said Helen; but Polly, with a somewhat important +little sigh, remarked that household matters would keep her at home.</p> + +<p>“Well, my dear, you must please yourself. But can I do anything for +either of you now? You both look full of business.”</p> + +<p>“We are, father,” said Polly, who was always the impetuous one. “We want +to know if Paul and Virginia may come.”</p> + +<p>“My dear, this is the second time you have spoken to me of those +deserted orphans. I don’t understand you.”</p> + +<p>“It is this, father,” explained Helen. “We think the children from +Australia—the children mother was arranging about—might come here +still. We mean that Polly and I would like them to come, and that we +would do our best for them. We think, Polly and I do, that mother, even +though she is not here, would still like the strangers to come.”</p> + +<p>“Sit down, Helen,” said the Doctor; the harassed look had once again +come across his face, and even Polly noticed the dimness in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“You must not undertake too much, you two,” he said. “You are only +children. You are at an age to miss your mother at every turn. We had +arranged to have a boy and girl from Australia to live here, but when +your mother—your mother was taken—I gave up the idea. It was too late +to stop their coming to England, but I think I can provide a temporary +home for them when they get to London. You need not trouble your head +about the strange children, Nell.”</p> + +<p>“It is not that,” said Polly. “We don’t know them yet, so of course we +don’t love them, but we wish them to come here, because we wish for +their money. It will be eight pounds a week; just what you spend on the +house, you know, father.”</p> + +<p>“What a little economist!” said Dr. Maybright, stretching out his hand +and drawing Polly to him. “Yes, I was to receive £400 a year for the +children, and it would have been a help, certainly it would have been a +help by and by. Still, my dear girls, I don’t see how it is to be +managed.”</p> + +<p>“But really, father, we are so many that two more make very little +difference,” explained Helen. “Polly and I are going to try hard to be +steady and good, and we think it<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_44' id='Page_44'>[Pg 44]</a></span> would certainly please mother if you +let the strangers come here, and we tried to make them happy. If you +would meet them, father, and bring them here just at first, we might see +how we got on.”</p> + +<p>“I might,” said the Doctor in a meditative voice, “and £400 is a good +deal of money. It is not easily earned, and with a large family it is +always wanted. That’s what your mother said, and she was very wise. +Still, still, children, I keep forgetting how old you are. In reality +you are, neither of you, grown up; in reality Polly is quite a child, +and you, my wise little Nell, are very little more. I have offended your +aunt, Mrs. Cameron, as it is, and what will she say if I yield to you on +this point? Still, still——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, father, don’t mind what that tiresome Aunt Maria says or thinks on +any subject,” said Polly. “Why should we mind her, she wasn’t mother’s +real sister. We scarcely know her at all, and she scarcely knows us. We +don’t like her, and we are sure she doesn’t like us. Why should she +spoil our lives, and prevent our helping you? For it would help you to +have the strangers here, wouldn’t it, father?”</p> + +<p>“By and by it would,” answered the Doctor. “By and by it would help me +much.”</p> + +<p>Again the troubled expression came to his face and the dimness was +perceptible in his eyes.</p> + +<p>“You will let us try it, father,” said Helen. “We can but fail; girls as +young as us have done as much before. I am sure girls as young as we are +have done harder things before, so why should not we try?”</p> + +<p>“I am a foolish old man,” said the Doctor. “I suppose I shall be blamed +for this, not that it greatly matters. Well, children, let it be as you +wish. I will go and meet the boy and girl in London, and bring them to +the Hollow. We can have them for a month, and if we fail, children,” +added the Doctor, a twinkle of amusement overspreading his face, “we +won’t tell any one but ourselves. It is quite possible that in the +future we shall be comparatively poor if we cannot manage to make that +boy and girl from Australia comfortable and happy; but Polly there has +taught us how to economize, for we can always fall back on potatoes and +point.”</p> + +<p>“Oh—oh—oh, father,” came from Polly’s lips.</p> + +<p>“That is unkind, dear father,” said Helen.</p> + +<p>But they both hung about his neck and kissed him, and when Dr. Maybright +drove away that afternoon on his usual round of visits, his heart felt +comparatively light, and he owned to himself that those girls of his, +with all their eccentricities, were a great comfort to him.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r4180' id='r4180'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_45' id='Page_45'>[Pg 45]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2><h3>IN THE ATTIC.</h3> +</div> + +<p>There is no saying how Polly’s week of housekeeping might have ended, +nor how substantial her castle in the air might have grown, had not a +catastrophe occurred to her of a double and complex nature.</p> + +<p>The first day during which Polly and Maggie, between them, catered for +and cooked the family meals, produced a plain diet in the shape of cold +bacon for breakfast, and a dinner of potatoes, minus “point.” But on the +Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of that week Maggie quite redeemed her +character of being a Flooder, and worked under Polly with such goodwill +that, as she herself expressed it, her small brains began to grow. +Fortunately, Mrs. Ricketts, Maggie’s mother, was not obliged to meet her +rent every day of the week, therefore no more of Polly’s four pounds +went in that direction. And Polly read Mrs. Beaton’s Cookery-book with +such assiduity, and Maggie carried out her directions with such implicit +zeal and good faith, that really most remarkable meals began to grace +the Doctor’s board. Pastry in every imaginable form and guise, cakes of +all descriptions; vegetables, so cooked and so flavored, that their +original taste was completely obliterated; meats cooked in German, +Italian, and American styles; all these things, and many more, graced +the board and speedily vanished. The children became decidedly excited +about the meals, and Polly was cheered and regarded as a sort of queen. +The Doctor sighed, however, and counted the days when Nell and Mrs. +Power should once more peacefully reign in Polly’s stead. Nurse asked +severely to have all the nursery medicine bottles replenished. Firefly +looked decidedly pasty, and, after one of Polly’s richest plum-cakes, +with three tiers of different colored icings, Bunny was heard crying the +greater part of one night. Still the little cook and housekeeper bravely +pursued her career of glory, and all might have gone well, and Polly +might have worn a chastened halo of well-earned success round her brow +for the remainder of her natural life, but for the catastrophe of which +I am about to speak.</p> + +<p>Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday the family fared richly, and the +household jogged along somehow, but on Friday morning Dr. Maybright +suddenly surprised his girls by telling them that unexpected business +would call him to London immediately. He could not possibly return +before Monday, but he would get a certain Dr. Strong to see after his +patients, and would start for town by the mid-day train.</p> + +<p>The Doctor’s portmanteau was quickly packed, and in what seemed a moment +of time after the receipt of the letter he had kissed his family and +bidden them good-by. Then her four younger sisters and the boys came +round Polly with a daring suggestion.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_46' id='Page_46'>[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Let’s sit up late, to-night, and have a real, jolly supper,” they +begged. “Let’s have it at nine o’clock, up in the large garret over the +front of the house; let it be a big supper, all kinds of good things; +ginger-beer and the rest, and let’s invite some people to come and eat +it with us. Do Poll—do Poll, darling.”</p> + +<p>“But,” said Polly—she was dazzled by this glorious prospect—“I haven’t +got a great deal of money,” she said, “and Nurse will be very angry, and +Helen won’t like it. For you know, children, you two boys and Firefly, +you are never allowed to sit up as late as nine o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“But for once, Poll Parrot,” exclaimed the three victims; “just for +once. We are sure father would not care, and we can coax Nell to +consent; and Nurse, as to Nurse, she thinks of no one but baby; we won’t +choose the garret over baby. Do, do, do say ‘yes,’ darling Poll.”</p> + +<p>“The dearest cook in all the world!” exclaimed Bunny, tossing his cap in +the air.</p> + +<p>“The queen of cake-makers,” said Bob, turning head over heels.</p> + +<p>“The darlingest princess of all housekeepers,” echoed Firefly, leaping +on her sister, and half-strangling her with a fierce embrace.</p> + +<p>“And we’ll all subscribe,” said the twins.</p> + +<p>“And it will really be delightfully romantic; something to remember when +you aren’t housekeeper,” concluded Katie.</p> + +<p>“I’d like it awfully,” said Polly, “I don’t pretend that I wouldn’t, and +I’ve just found such a recipe for whipped cream. Do you know, girls, I +shouldn’t be a bit surprised—I really shouldn’t—if I turned out some +meringues made all by myself for supper. The only drawback is the money, +for Mrs. White does charge a lot for cream, and I don’t mind owning to +you all, now that you are nice and sympathetic, that the reason you had +only potatoes for dinner on Monday was because Maggie and I met with a +misfortune; it was a money trouble,” continued Polly, with an important +air, “and of course children like you cannot understand what money +troubles mean. They are wearing, very, and Maggie says she thinks I’m +beginning to show some crow’s feet around my eyes on account of them. +But never mind, I’m not going to cast the shadows of money troubles on +you all, and this thing is not to be spoken of, only it makes me very +short now.”</p> + +<p>“But we’ll help you, Poll,” said all the eager voices. “Let’s fetch our +purses and see what we can spare.”</p> + +<p>In a twinkling many odd receptacles for holding money made an +appearance, and the children between them found they could muster the +noble sum of six shillings. All this was handed to Polly, who said, +after profound deliberation, that she thought she could make it go +furthest and make most show in the purchase of cream and ginger-beer.</p> + +<p>“I’ll scrape the rest together, somehow,” she said, in conclusion,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_47' id='Page_47'>[Pg 47]</a></span> “and +Maggie will help me fine. Maggie’s a real brick now, and her brains are +growing beautifully.”</p> + +<p>But there was another point to be decided—Who were to be invited to +partake of the supper, and was Nurse to be told, and was Helen to be +consulted?</p> + +<p>Certainly Polly would not have ventured to carry out so daring a scheme +without Helen’s consent and cooperation, if it had not happened that she +was away for the day. She had taken the opportunity to drive into the +nearest town five miles away with her father, and had arranged to spend +the day there, purchasing several necessary things, and calling on one +or two friends.</p> + +<p>“And it will be much too late to tell Nell when she comes back,” voted +all the children. “If she makes a fuss then, and refuses to join, she +will spoil everything. We are bound too, to obey Helen, so we had much +better not give her the chance of saying ‘no.’ Let us pretend to go to +bed at our usual hour, and say nothing to either Nurse or Helen. We can +tell them to-morrow if we like, and they can only scold us. Yes, that is +the only thing to do, for it would never, never do to have such a jolly +plan spoilt.”</p> + +<p>A unanimous vote was therefore carried that the supper in the garret was +to be absolutely secret and confidential, and, naughty as this plan of +carrying out their pleasure was, it must be owned that it largely +enhanced the fun. The next point to consider was, who were to be the +invited guests? There were no boys and girls of the children’s own class +in life within an easy distance.</p> + +<p>“Therefore there is no one to ask,” exclaimed Katie, in her shortest and +most objectionable manner.</p> + +<p>But here Firefly electrified her family by quoting Scripture.</p> + +<p>“When thou makest a supper,” she began.</p> + +<p>All the others rose in a body and fell upon her. But she had started a +happy idea, and in consequence, Mrs. Ricketts’ youngest son and +daughter, and the three very naughty and disreputable sons of Mrs. +Jones, the laundress, were invited to partake of the coming feast.</p> + +<p>The rest of the day passed to all appearance very soberly. Helen was +away. The Doctor’s carriage neither came nor went; the Doctor himself, +with his kindly voice, and his somewhat brusque, determined manner, +awoke no echoes in the old house. Nurse was far away in the nursery +wing, with the pretty, brown-eyed baby and the children; all the girls +and the little boys were remarkably good.</p> + +<p>To those who are well acquainted with the habits and ways of young +folks, too much goodness is generally a suspicious circumstance. There +is a demure look, there is an instant obedience, there is an absence of +fretfulness, and an abnormal, although subdued, cheerfulness, which +arouses the watchful gaze of the knowing among mothers, governesses, and +nurses.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_48' id='Page_48'>[Pg 48]</a></span></p> + +<p>Had Nurse been at dinner that day she might have been warned of coming +events by Bunny’s excellent behavior; by Bob’s rigid refusal to partake +twice of an unwholesome compound, which went by the name of iced +pudding; by Firefly’s anxiety to be all that a good and proper little +girl should be. But Nurse, of course, had nothing to say to the family +dinner. Helen was away, the Doctor was nearing the metropolis, and the +little boys’ daily governess was not dining with the family.</p> + +<p>These good children had no one to suspect them, and all went smoothly; +in short, the wheels of the house machinery never seemed more admirably +oiled.</p> + +<p>True, had any one listened very closely there might have been heard the +stealthy sound of shoeless feet ascending the rickety step-ladder which +led to the large front garret. Shoeless feet going up and down many, +many times. Trays, too, of precious crockery were carried up, baskets +piled with evergreens and flowers were conveyed thither, the linen +cupboard was ruthlessly rifled for snowy tablecloths and table napkins +of all descriptions. Then later in the day a certain savory smell might +have been perceived by any very suspicious person just along this +special passage and up that dusty old ladder. For hot bread and hot +pastry and hot cakes were being conveyed to the attic, and the sober +twins themselves fetched the cream from the farm, and the ginger beer +from the grocer’s.</p> + +<p>No one was about, however, to suspect, or to tell tales if they did +suspect.</p> + +<p>Helen came home about seven o’clock, rather tired, and very much +interested in her purchases, to find a cozy tea awaiting her, and Polly +anxious to serve her. The twin girls were supposed to be learning their +lessons in the schoolroom, Katie was nowhere to be seen, and Helen +remarked casually that she supposed the young ones had gone to bed.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes,” said Polly, in her quickest manner.</p> + +<p>She turned her back as she spoke, and the blush which mantled her brown +face was partly hidden by her curly dark hair.</p> + +<p>“I am very hungry,” said Helen. “Really, Polly, you are turning out an +excellent housekeeper—what a nice tea you have prepared for me. How +delicious these hot cakes are! I never thought, Poll, you would make +such a good cook and manager, and to think of your giving us such +delicious meals on so little money. But you are eating nothing yourself, +love, and how hot your cheeks are!”</p> + +<p>“Cooking is hot work, and takes away the appetite,” said Polly.</p> + +<p>She was listening in agony that moment, for over Helen’s head certain +stealthy steps were creeping; they were the steps of children, leaving +their snug beds, and gliding as quietly as possible in the direction of +the savory smells and the dusty ladder and the large dirty, spidery—but +oh, how<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_49' id='Page_49'>[Pg 49]</a></span> romantic, how fascinating—front attic. Never before did Polly +realize how many creaky boards there were in the house; oh, surely Helen +would observe those steps; but, no, she cracked her egg tranquilly, and +sipped her tea, and talked in her pleasantest way of Polly’s excellent +cooking, and of her day’s adventures.</p> + +<p>Time was going on; it would soon be eight o’clock. Oh, horrors, why +would the Rickettses and Mrs. Jones’s three boys choose the path through +the shrubbery to approach the house! The morning room, where Helen was +taking her tea, looked out on the shrubbery, and although it was now +quite dark in the world of nature, those dreadful rough boys would crack +boughs, and stumble and titter as they walked. Polly’s face grew hotter +and her hands colder; never did she bless her sister’s rather slow and +unsuspicious nature more than at this moment, for Helen heard no boughs +crack, nor did the stealthy, smothered laughter, so distinctly audible +to poor Polly, reach her ears.</p> + +<p>At ten minutes to eight Helen rose from the table.</p> + +<p>“I’m going up to Nurse to show her what things I have bought for baby,” +she said. “We are going to short-coat baby next week, so I have a good +deal to show her, and I won’t be down again for a little bit.”</p> + +<p>“All right,” said Polly, “I have plenty to do; don’t worry about me till +you see me, Nell.”</p> + +<p>She danced out of the room, and in excellent spirits joined a large and +boisterous party in the front attic. Now, she assured her family and her +guests, all would go well; they were safely housed in a distant and +unused part of the establishment, and might be as merry and as noisy as +they pleased; no one would hear them, no one would miss them, no one +would suspect them.</p> + +<p>And all might have gone according to Polly’s programme, and to this day +that glorious feast in the attic might have remained a secret in the +private annals of the house of Maybright, but for that untoward thing +which I am about to tell.</p> + +<p>At that very moment while the Maybrights, the Rickettses, and the +Joneses were having delightful and perfectly untrammeled intercourse +with each other, a very fidgety old lady was approaching the Hollow, +being carefully conducted thither in a rickety fly. A large traveling +trunk was on the box seat of the fly, and inside were two or three +bandboxes, a couple of baskets, a strap bursting with railway rugs, +cloaks, and umbrellas, and last, but not least, a snarling little toy +terrier, who barked and whined, and jumped about, and licked his +mistress’s hand.</p> + +<p>“Down, Scorpion,” exclaimed Mrs. Cameron; “behave yourself, sir. You +really become more vicious every day. Get in that corner, and don’t stir +till I give you leave. Now, then, driver,” opening the window and poking +her head out, “when are we getting to Sleepy Hollow? Oh! never, never +have I found myself in a more outlandish place.”</p> + +<p>“We be a matter of two miles from there, ma‘am,” said the man. “You set +easy, and keep yourself quiet, for the beast won’t go no faster.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron subsided again into the depths of the musty old fly with a +groan.</p> + +<p>“Outlandish—most outlandish!” she remarked again. “Scorpion, you may +sit in my lap if you like to behave yourself, sir. Well, well, duty +calls me into many queer quarters. Scorpion, if you go on snarling and +growling I shall slap you smartly. Yes, poor Helen; I never showed my +love for her more than when I undertook this journey: never, never. Oh! +how desolate that great moor does look; I trust there are no robbers +about. It’s perfectly awful to be in a solitary cab, with anything but a +civil driver, alone on these great moors. Well, well, how could Helen +marry a man like Dr. Maybright, and come to live here? He must be the +oddest person, to judge from the letter he wrote me. I saw at once there +was nothing for me but to make the stupendous effort of coming to see +after things myself. Poor dear Helen! she was a good creature, very +handsome, quite thrown away upon that doctor. I was fond of her; she was +like a child to me long ago. It is my duty to do what I can for her +orphans. Now, Scorpion, what is the matter? You are quite one of the +most vicious little dogs I have ever met. Oh, do be quiet, sir.”</p> + +<p>But at that moment the fly drew up with a jolt. The driver deliberately +descended from his seat, and opened the door, whereupon Scorpion, with a +snarl and bound, disappeared into the darkness.</p> + +<p>“He’s after a cat,” remarked the man, laconically. “This be the Hollow, +ma‘am, if you’ll have the goodness to get out.”</p> + +<p>“Sleepy Hollow,” remarked Mrs. Cameron to herself, as she steadily +descended. “Truly I should think so; but I am much mistaken if I don’t +wake it up.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r1225' id='r1225'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_50' id='Page_50'>[Pg 50]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2><h3>AUNT MARIA.</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Ef you please, Miss Helen,” said Alice, the neat housemaid, putting in +her head at the nursery door, “there’s a lady downstairs, and a heap of +luggage, and the nastiest little dog I ever saw. He has almost killed +the Persian kitten, Miss, and he is snarling and snapping at every one. +See, he took this bit out of my apron, miss. The old lady says as her +name is Mrs. Cameron, and she has come to stay; and she’d be glad if +you’d go down to her immediately, Miss Helen.”</p> + +<p>“Aunt Maria!” said Helen, in an aghast voice. “Aunt Maria absolutely +come—and father away! Nursie, I must fly down—you will understand +about those flannels. Oh! I am sorry Aunt Maria has come. What will +Polly say?”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_51' id='Page_51'>[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + +<p>Helen felt a curious sinking at her heart as she descended the stairs; +but she was a very polite and well-mannered girl, and when she went up +to Mrs. Cameron she said some pretty words of welcome, which were really +not overdone. Mrs. Cameron was a short, stout person; she always wore +black, and her black was always rusty. She stood now in the middle of +the drawing-room, holding Scorpion in her arms, with her bonnet-strings +untied, and her full, round face somewhat flushed.</p> + +<p>“No, my dear, you are not particularly glad to see me,” she said, in +answer to Helen’s gentle dignified greeting. “I don’t expect it, child, +nor look for it; and you need not waste untruths upon me, for I always +see through them. You are not glad to see me, and I am not surprised, +for I assure you I intend to make myself disagreeable. Helen, your +father is a perfect fool. Now, my dear, you need not fire up; you would +say so if you were as old as me, and had received as idiotic an epistle +from him.”</p> + +<p>“But I am not as old as you, and he is my father,” said Helen, steadily. +“I don’t tell untruths, Aunt Maria, and I am glad to see you +because—because you were fond of mother. Will you come into the +dining-room now, and let me get you some tea?”</p> + +<p>Helen’s lips were quivering, and her dark blue eyes were slightly +lowered, so that Aunt Maria should not notice the tears that filled +them. The old lady, however, had noticed these signs of emotion, and +brave words always pleased her.</p> + +<p>“You aren’t a patch on your mother, child,” she said. “But you remind me +of her. Yes, take me to my room first, and then get me a good +substantial meal, for I can tell you I am starving.”</p> + +<p>Helen rang the bell.</p> + +<p>“Alice,” she said to the parlor maid, who speedily answered the summons, +“will you get the rose room ready as quickly as possible? My aunt, Mrs. +Cameron, will stay here for the night. And please lay supper in the +dining-room. Tell Mrs. Power—oh, I forgot—see and get as nice a supper +as you can, Alice. You had better speak to Miss Polly.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss,” said Alice. Then she paused, hesitated, colored slightly, +and said, in a dubious manner, “Is it the rose room you mean, Miss +Helen? That’s the room Miss Polly is getting ready for Miss Virginy, and +there ain’t no curtains to the window nor to the bed at present.”</p> + +<p>“Then I won’t sleep in that bed,” said Mrs. Cameron. “I must have a +four-poster with curtains all round, and plenty of dark drapery to the +windows. My eyes are weak, and I don’t intend to have them injured with +the cold morning light off the moor.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Aunt Maria, the mornings aren’t very light now,” answered Helen. +“They are——”</p> + +<p>But Mrs. Cameron interrupted her.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_52' id='Page_52'>[Pg 52]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Don’t talk nonsense, child. In a decent place like Bath I own the day +may break gradually, but I expect everything contrary to civilized +existence here. The very thought of those awful commons makes me shiver. +Now, have you, or have you not, a four-poster, in which I can sleep?”</p> + +<p>Helen smothered a slight sigh. She turned once again to Alice.</p> + +<p>“Will you get my father’s room ready for Mrs. Cameron,” she said, “and +then see about supper as quickly as possible? Father is away for a few +days,” she added, turning to the good lady. “Please will you come up to +Polly’s and my room now to take off your things?”</p> + +<p>“And where is Polly?” said Mrs. Cameron. “And why doesn’t she come to +speak to her aunt? There’s Kate, too, she must be a well-grown girl by +now, and scarcely gone to bed yet. The rest of the family are, I +presume, asleep; that is, if there’s a grain of sense left in the +household.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, most of the children are in bed,” replied Helen. “You will see +Polly and Katie, and perhaps the twins, later on, but first of all I +want to make you comfortable. You must be very tired; you have had a +long journey.”</p> + +<p>“I’m beat out, child, and that’s the truth. Here, I’ll lay Scorpion down +in the middle of your bed; he has been a great worry to me all day, and +he wants his sleep. He likes to get between the sheets, so if you don’t +mind I’ll open the bed and let him slip down.”</p> + +<p>“If you want me to be truthful, I do mind very much,” said Helen. “Oh, +you are putting him into Polly’s bed. Well, I suppose he must stay there +for the present.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron was never considered an unamiable person; she was well +spoken of by her friends and relations, for she was rich, and gave away +a great deal of money to various charities and benevolent institutions. +But if ever any one expected her to depart in the smallest particular +from her own way they were vastly mistaken. Whatever her goal, whatever +her faintest desire, she rode roughshod over all prejudices until she +obtained it. Therefore it was that, notwithstanding poor Helen’s +protest, Scorpion curled down comfortably between Polly’s sheets, and +Mrs. Cameron, well pleased at having won her point, went down to supper.</p> + +<p>Alas, and alas! the supper provided for the good lady was severe in its +simplicity. Alice, blushing and uncomfortable, called Helen out of the +room, and then informed her that neither Polly nor Maggie could be +found, and that there was literally nothing, or next to nothing, in the +larder.</p> + +<p>“But that can’t be the case,” said Helen, “for there was a large piece +of cold roast beef brought up for my tea, and a great plate of hot +cakes, and an uncut plum cake. Surely, Alice, you must be mistaken.”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss, there’s nothing downstairs. Not a joint, nor a cake, nor +nothing. If it wasn’t that I found some new-laid eggs in the hen-house, +and cut some slices from the uncooked<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_53' id='Page_53'>[Pg 53]</a></span> ham, I couldn’t have had nothing +at all for supper—and—and——”</p> + +<p>“Tut, tut!” suddenly exclaimed a voice in the dining-room. “What’s all +this whispering about? It is very rude of little girls to whisper +outside doors, and not to attend to their aunts when they come a long +way to see them. If you don’t come in at once, Miss Helen, and give me +my tea, I shall help myself.”</p> + +<p>“Find Polly, then, as quick as you can, Alice,” exclaimed poor, +perplexed Helen, “and tell her that Aunt Maria Cameron has come and is +going to stay.”</p> + +<p>Alice went away, and Helen, returning to the dining-room, poured out +tea, and cut bread-and-butter, and saw her aunt demolishing with +appetite three new-laid eggs, and two generous slices of fried ham.</p> + +<p>“Your meal was plain; but I am satisfied with it,” she said in +conclusion. “I am glad you live frugally, Helen; waste is always sinful, +and in your case peculiarly so. You don’t mind my telling you, my dear, +that I think it is a sad extravagance wearing crape every day, but of +course you don’t know any better. You are nothing in the world but an +overgrown child. Now that I have come, my dear, I shall put this and +many other matters to rights. Tell me, Helen, how long does your father +intend to be away?”</p> + +<p>“Until Monday, I think, Aunt Maria.”</p> + +<p>“Very well; then you and I will begin our reforms to-morrow. I’ll take +you round with me, and we’ll look into everything. Your father won’t +know the house when he comes back. I’ve got a treasure of a woman in my +eye for him—a Miss Grinsted. She is fifty, and a strict disciplinarian. +She will soon manage matters, and put this house into something like +order. I had a great mind to bring her with me; but I can send for her. +She can be here by Monday or Tuesday. I told her to be in readiness, and +to have her boxes packed. My dear, I wish you would not poke out your +chin so much. How old are you? Oh, sixteen—a very gawky age. Now then, +that I am refreshed and rested, I think that we’ll just go round the +house.”</p> + +<p>“Will you not wait until to-morrow, Aunt Maria? The children are all +asleep and in bed now, and Nurse never likes them to be disturbed.”</p> + +<p>“My dear, Nurse’s likes or dislikes are not of the smallest importance +to me. I wish to see the children asleep, so if you will have the +goodness to light a candle, Helen, and lead the way, I will follow.”</p> + +<p>Helen, again stifling a sigh, obeyed. She felt full of trepidation and +uneasiness. Why did not Polly come in? Why had all the supper +disappeared? Where were Katie and the twins? How strangely silent the +house was.</p> + +<p>“I will see the baby first,” said Mrs. Cameron. “In bed? Well, no +matter, I wish to look at the little dear. Ah, this is the nursery; a +nice, cheerful room, but too much light in<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_54' id='Page_54'>[Pg 54]</a></span> it, and no curtains to the +windows. Very bad for the dear baby’s eyes. How do you do, Nurse? I have +come to see baby. I am her aunt, her dear mother’s sister, Maria +Cameron.”</p> + +<p>Nurse curtseyed.</p> + +<p>“Baby is asleep, ma‘am,” she said. “I have just settled her in her +little crib for the night. She’s a good, healthy child, and no trouble +to any one. Yes, ma‘am, she has a look of her dear blessed ma. I’ll just +hold down the sheet, and you’ll see. Please, ma‘am, don’t hold the light +full in the babe’s eyes, you’ll wake her.”</p> + +<p>“My good woman, I handled babies before you did. I had this child’s +mother in my arms when she was a baby. Yes, the infant is well enough; +you’re mistaken in there being any likeness to your late mistress in +her. She seems a plain child, but healthy. If you don’t watch her sight, +she may get delicate eyes, however. I should recommend curtains being +put up immediately to these windows, and you’re only using night-lights +when she sleeps. It is not <i>I</i> that am likely to injure the baby with +too much light. Good evening, Nurse.”</p> + +<p>Nurse muttered something, her brow growing black.</p> + +<p>“Now, Helen,” continued Mrs. Cameron, “we will visit the other children. +This is the boys’ room, I presume. I am fond of boys. What are your +brothers’ names, my dear?”</p> + +<p>“We call them Bob and Bunny.”</p> + +<p>“Utterly ridiculous! I ask for their baptismal names, not for anything +so silly. Ah! oh—I thought you said they were in bed: these beds are +empty.”</p> + +<p>So they were; tossed about, no doubt, but with no occupants, and the +bedclothes no longer warm; so that it could not have been quite lately +that the truants had departed from their nightly places of rest. On +further investigation, Firefly’s bed was also found in a sad state of +<i>déshabillé</i>, and it was clearly proved, on visiting their apartments, +that the twins and Katie had not gone to bed at all.</p> + +<p>“Then, my dear, where are the family?” said Mrs. Cameron. “You and that +little babe are the only ones I have yet seen. Where is Mary? where is +Katharine? Where are your brothers? My dear Helen, this is awful; your +brothers and sisters are evidently playing midnight pranks. Oh, there is +not a doubt of it, you need not tell me. What a good thing it is that I +came! Oh! my poor dear sister; what a state her orphans have been +reduced to! There is nothing whatever for it but to telegraph for Miss +Grinsted in the morning.”</p> + +<p>“But, my dear auntie, I am sure, oh! I am sure you are mistaken,” began +poor Helen. “The children are always very well behaved—they are, indeed +they are. They don’t play pranks, Aunt Maria.”</p> + +<p>“Allow me to use my own eyesight, Helen. The beds are empty—not a child +is to be found. Come, we must search the house!”</p> + +<p>Helen never to her dying day forgot that eerie journey through the +deserted house, accompanied by Aunt Maria. She never forgot the +sickening fear which oppressed her, and the certainty which came over +her that Polly, poor, excitable Polly, was up to some mischief.</p> + +<p>Sleepy Hollow was a large and rambling old place, and it was some time +before the searchers reached the neighborhood of the festive garret. +When they did, however, there was no longer any room for doubt. Wild +laughter, and high-pitched voices singing many favorite nursery airs and +school-room songs made noise enough to reach the ears even of the +deafest. “John Peel” was having a frantic chorus as Helen and her aunt +ascended the step-ladder.</p> + +<p class='in'> +“For the sound of his horn brought me from my bed,<br /> +And the cry of his hounds which he ofttimes led,<br /> +Peel’s ‘View Hulloo!’ would awaken the dead,<br /> +Or the fox from his lair in the morning.”<br /> +</p> + +<p>“<i>Very</i> nice, indeed,” said Aunt Maria, as she burst open the garret +door. “Very nice and respectful to the memory of your dear mother! I am +glad, children, that I have come to create decent order in this +establishment. I am your aunt, Maria Cameron.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r4324' id='r4324'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_55' id='Page_55'>[Pg 55]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2><h3>PUNISHMENT.</h3> +</div> + +<p>There are occasions when people who are accused wrongfully of a fault +will take it patiently: there was scarcely ever known to be a time when +wrongdoers did so.</p> + +<p>The children in the garret were having a wild time of mirth and +excitement. There was no time for any one to think, no time for any one +to do aught but enjoy. The lateness of the hour, the stealthy gathering, +the excellent supper, and, finally, the gay songs, had roused the young +spirits to the highest pitch. Polly was the life of everything; Maggie, +her devoted satellite, had a face which almost blazed with excitement.</p> + +<p>Her small eyes twinkled like stars, her broad mouth never ceased to show +a double row of snowy teeth. She revolved round her brothers and +sisters, whispering in their ears, violently nudging them, and piling on +the agony in the shape of cups of richly creamed and sugared tea, of +thick slices of bread-and-butter and jam, and plum cake, topped with +bumpers of foaming ginger-beer.</p> + +<p>Repletion had reached such a pass in the case of the Ricketts brother +and sister that they could scarcely move; the Jones brothers were also +becoming slightly heavy-eyed; but the Maybright children fluttered about +here and there like gay butterflies, and were on the point of getting up +a dance when Aunt Maria and the frightened Helen burst upon the scene.</p> + +<p>It required a much less acute glance than Aunt Maria’s to<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_56' id='Page_56'>[Pg 56]</a></span> point out +Polly as the ringleader. She headed the group of mirth-seekers, every +lip resounded with her name, all the other pairs of young eyes turned to +her. When the garret door was flung open, and Aunt Maria in no measured +tones announced herself, the children flew like frightened chickens to +hide under Polly’s wing. The Rickettses and Joneses scrambled to their +feet, and ran to find shelter as close as possible to headquarters. +Thus, when Polly at last found her voice, and turned round to speak to +Aunt Maria, she looked like the flushed and triumphant leader of a +little victorious garrison. She was quite carried away by the excitement +of the whole thing, and defiance spoke both in her eyes and manner.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, Aunt Maria?” she said. “We did not expect you. We were +having supper, and have just finished. I would ask you to have some with +us, only I am afraid there is not a clean plate left. Is there, Maggie?”</p> + +<p>Maggie answered with a high and nervous giggle, “Oh, lor’, Miss Polly! +that there ain’t; and there’s nothing but broken victuals either on the +table by now. We was all hungry, you know, Miss Polly.”</p> + +<p>“So perhaps,” continued Polly, “you would go downstairs again, Aunt +Maria. Helen, will you take Aunt Maria to the drawing-room? I will come +as soon as I see the supper things put away. Helen, why do you look at +me like that? What’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Polly!” said Helen, in her most reproachful tones.</p> + +<p>She was turning away, but Aunt Maria caught her rather roughly by the +shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Do <i>all</i> this numerous party belong to the family?” she said. “I see +here present thirteen children. I never knew before that my sister had +such an enormous family.”</p> + +<p>Helen felt in far too great a state of collapse to make any reply; but +Polly’s saucy, glib tones were again heard.</p> + +<p>“These are our visitors, Aunt Maria. Allow me to introduce them. Master +and Miss Ricketts, Masters Tom, Jim, and Peter Jones. This is Maggie, my +satellite, and devoted friend, and—and——”</p> + +<p>But Aunt Maria’s patience had reached its tether. She was a stout, +heavily made woman, and when she walked into the center of Polly’s +garrison she quickly dispersed it.</p> + +<p>“March!” she said, laying her hand heavily on the girl’s shoulder. “To +your room this instant. Come, I shall see you there, and lock you in. +You are a very bad, wicked, heartless girl, and I am bitterly ashamed of +you. To your room this minute. While your father is away you are under +my control, and I <i>insist</i> on being obeyed.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, lor’!” gasped Maggie. “Run,” she whispered to her brother and +sister. “Make for the door, quick. Oh, ain’t it awful! Oh, poor dear +Miss Polly! Why, that dreadful old lady will almost kill her.”</p> + +<p>But no, Polly was still equal to the emergency.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_57' id='Page_57'>[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You need not hold me, Aunt Maria,” she said, in a quiet voice, “I can +go without that. Good night, children. I am sorry our jolly time has had +such an unpleasant ending. Now then, I’ll go with you, Aunt Maria.”</p> + +<p>“In front, then,” said Aunt Maria. “No loitering behind. Straight to +your room.”</p> + +<p>Polly walked down the dusty ladder obediently enough; Aunt Maria, +scarlet in the face, stumped and waddled after her; Helen, very pale, +and feeling half terrified, brought up the rear. All went well, and the +truant exhibited no signs of rebellion until they reached the wide +landing which led in one direction to the girl’s bedroom, in the other +to the staircase.</p> + +<p>Here Polly turned at bay.</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to my room at present,” she said. “If I’ve been naughty, +father can punish me when he comes home. You can tell anything you like +to father when he comes back on Monday. But I’m not going to obey you. +You have no authority over me, and I’m not responsible to you. Father +can punish me as much as he likes when you have told him. I’m going +downstairs, now; it’s too early for bed. I’ve not an idea of obeying +you.”</p> + +<p>“We will see to that,” said Aunt Maria. “You are quite the naughtiest +child I ever came across. Now then, Miss, if you don’t go patiently, and +on your own feet, you shall be conveyed to your room in my arms. I am +quite strong enough, so you can choose.”</p> + +<p>Polly’s eyes flashed.</p> + +<p>“If you put it in that way, I don’t want to fuss,” she said. “I’ll go +there for the present, but you can’t keep me there, and you needn’t +try.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria and Polly disappeared round the corner, and poor Helen stood +leaning against the oak balustrade, silently crying. In three or four +minutes Aunt Maria returned, her face still red, and the key of the +bedroom in her pocket.</p> + +<p>“Now, Helen, what is the matter? Crying? Well, no wonder. Of course, you +are ashamed of your sister. I never met such a naughty, impertinent +girl. Can it be possible that Helen should have such a child? She must +take entirely after her father. Now, Helen, stop crying, tears are most +irritating to me, and do no good to any one. I am glad I arrived at this +emergency. Matters have indeed come to a pretty crisis. In your father’s +absence, I distinctly declare that I take the rule of my poor sister’s +orphans, and I shall myself mete out the punishment for the glaring act +of rebellion that I have just witnessed. Polly remains in her room, and +has a bread and water diet until Monday. The other children have bread +and water for breakfast in the morning, and go to bed two hours before +their usual time to-morrow. The kitchenmaid I shall dismiss in the +morning, giving her a month’s wages in lieu of notice. Now, Helen, come +downstairs. Oh, there is just one thing more. You<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_58' id='Page_58'>[Pg 58]</a></span> must find some other +room to sleep in to-night. I forbid you to go near your sister. In fact, +I shall not give you the key. You may share my bed, if you like.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot do that, Aunt Maria,” said Helen. “I respect you, and will +obey you as far as I can until father returns, and tells us what we +really ought to do. But I cannot stay away from Polly to-night for any +one. I know she has been very naughty. I am as shocked as you can be +with all that has happened, but I know too, Aunt Maria, that harsh +treatment will ruin Polly; she won’t stand it, she never would, and +mother never tried it with her. She is different from the rest of us, +Aunt Maria; she is wilder, and fiercer, and freer; but mother often +said, oh, often and often, that no one might be nobler than Polly, if +only she was guided right. I know she is troublesome, I know she was +impertinent to you, and I know well she did very wrong, but she is only +fourteen, and she has high spirits. You can’t bend, nor drive Polly, +Aunt Maria, but gentleness and love can always lead her. I <i>must</i> sleep +in my own bed to-night, Aunt Maria. Oh, don’t refuse me—please give me +up the key.”</p> + +<p>“You are a queer girl,” said Aunt Maria. “But I believe you are the best +of them, and you certainly remind me of your mother when you speak in +that earnest fashion. Here, take the key, then, but be sure you lock the +door when you go in, and when you come out again in the morning. I trust +to you that that little wild, impertinent sister of yours doesn’t +escape—now, remember.”</p> + +<p>“While I am there she will not,” answered Helen. “Thank you, auntie. You +look very tired yourself, won’t you go to bed now?”</p> + +<p>“I will, child. I’m fairly beat out. Such a scene is enough to disturb +the strongest nerves. Only what about the other children? Are they still +carousing in that wicked way in the garret?”</p> + +<p>“No. I am sure they have gone to bed, thoroughly ashamed of themselves. +But I will go and see to them.”</p> + +<p>“One thing more, child. Before I go to bed I should like to fill in a +telegraph form to Miss Grinsted. If she gets it the first thing in the +morning she can reach here to-morrow night. Well, Helen, again +objecting; you evidently mean to cross me in everything; now what is the +matter? Why has your face such a piteous look upon it?”</p> + +<p>“Only this, Aunt Maria. Until father returns I am quite willing to obey +you, and I will do my best to make the others good and obedient. But I +do think he would be vexed at your getting Miss Grinsted until you have +spoken to him. Won’t you wait until Monday before you telegraph for +her?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll sleep on it, anyhow,” replied Mrs. Cameron. “Good night, child. +You remind me very much of your mother—not in appearance, but in the +curious way you come round a person, and insist upon having everything +done exactly as you like. Now, my dear, good night. I consider you all +the<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_59' id='Page_59'>[Pg 59]</a></span> most demoralized household, but I won’t be here long before matters +are on a very different footing.”</p> + +<p>The bedroom door really closed upon Aunt Maria, and Helen drew a long +breath.</p> + +<p>Oh, for Monday to arrive! Oh, for any light to guide the perplexed child +in this crisis! But she had no time to think now. She flew to the +garret, to find only the wreck of the feast and one or two candles +flickering in their sockets. She put the candles out, and went next to +the children’s bedrooms. Bob and Bunny, with flushed faces, were lying +once more in their cribs, fast asleep. They were dreaming and tossing +about, and Nurse stood over them with a perplexed and grave face.</p> + +<p>“This means nightmare, and physic in the morning,” said the worthy +woman. “Now, don’t you fret and worry your dear head, Miss Helen, pet. +Oh, yes, I know all about it, and it <i>was</i> a naughty thing to do, only +children will be children. Your aunt needn’t expect that her old crabbed +head and ways will fit on young shoulders. You might go to Miss Firefly, +though, for a minute, Miss Helen, for she’s crying fit to break her +heart.”</p> + +<p>Helen went off at once. Firefly was a very excitable and delicate child. +She found the little creature with her head buried under the clothes, +her whole form shaken with sobs.</p> + +<p>“Lucy, darling,” said Helen.</p> + +<p>The seldom-used name aroused the weeping child; she raised her head, and +flung two thin arms so tightly round Helen’s neck that she felt half +strangled.</p> + +<p>“Oh, it’s so awful, Nell; what will she do to poor Polly! Oh, poor +Polly! Will she half kill her, Nell?”</p> + +<p>“No, Fly—how silly of you to take such an idea into your head. Fly, +dear, stop crying at once—you know you have all been naughty, and Polly +has hurt Aunt Maria, and hurt me, too. You none of you knew Aunt Maria +was coming, but I did not think you would play such a trick on me, and +when father was away, too.”</p> + +<p>“It wasn’t Polly’s fault,” said Firefly, eagerly. “She was tempted, and +we were the tempters. We all came round her, and we did coax, so hard, +and Polly gave way, ’cause she wanted to make us happy. She’s a darling, +the dearest darling in all the world, and if Aunt Maria hurts her and +she dies, I—I——”</p> + +<p>The little face worked in a paroxysm of grief and agony.</p> + +<p>“Don’t, Fly,” said Helen. “You are much too tired and excited for me to +talk calmly to you to-night. You have been naughty, darling, and so has +Polly, and real naughtiness is always punished, always, somehow or +another. But you need not be afraid that any real harm will happen to +Polly. I am going to her in a moment or two, so you need not be in the +least anxious. Now fold your hands, Fly, and say ‘Our Father.’ Say it +slowly after me.”</p> + +<p>Firefly’s sobs had become much less. She now lay quiet, her little +chest still heaving, but with her eyes open, and fixed with a pathetic +longing on Helen’s face.</p> + +<p>“You’re nearly as good as mother,” she said. “And I love you. But Polly +always, always must come first. Nell, I’ll say ‘Our Father,’ only not +the part about forgiving, for I can’t forgive Aunt Maria.”</p> + +<p>“My dear child, you are talking in a very silly way. Aunt Maria has done +nothing but her duty, nothing to make you really angry with her. Now, +Fly, it is late, and Polly wants me. Say those dear words, for mother’s +sake.”</p> + +<p>There was no child at Sleepy Hollow who would not have done anything for +mother’s sake, so the prayer was whispered with some fresh gasps of pain +and contrition, and before Helen left the room, little Lucy’s pretty +dark eyes were closed, and her small, sallow, excitable face was +tranquil.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r4346' id='r4346'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_60' id='Page_60'>[Pg 60]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2><h3>DR. MAYBRIGHT <i>versus</i> SCORPION.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Dr. Maybright returned to his home on Monday evening in tolerably good +spirits. He had gone up to London about a money matter which caused him +some anxiety; his fears were, for the present at least, quite lulled to +rest, and he had taken the opportunity of consulting one of the greatest +oculists of the day with regard to his eyesight. The verdict was more +hopeful than the good Doctor had dared to expect. With care, total +blindness might be altogether avoided; at the worst it would not come +for some time. A certain regimen was recommended, overwork was +forbidden, all great anxiety was to be avoided, and then, and +then—Well, at least the blessed light of day might be enjoyed by the +Doctor for years to come.</p> + +<p>“But you must not overwork,” said the oculist, “and you must not worry. +You must read very little, and you must avoid chills; for should a cold +attack your eyes now the consequences would be serious.”</p> + +<p>On the whole this verdict was favorable, and the Doctor returned to +Sleepy Hollow with a considerable weight lifted from his mind. As the +train bore him homeward through the mellow, ripened country with the +autumn colors glorifying the landscape, and a rich sunlight casting a +glow over everything, his heart felt peaceful. Even with the better part +of him gone away for ever, he could look forward with pleasure to the +greeting of his children, and find much consolation in the love of their +young hearts.</p> + +<p>“After all, there never were girls quite like Helen and Polly,” he said +to himself. “They both in their own way take after their mother. Helen +has got that calm which was always so refreshing and restful in her +mother; and that little scapegrace of a Polly inherits a good deal of +her brilliancy. I wonder how the little puss has managed the +housekeeping.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_61' id='Page_61'>[Pg 61]</a></span> By the way, her week is up to-day, and we return to +Nell’s and Mrs. Power’s steadier regime. Poor Poll, it was shabby of me +to desert the family during the end of Indigestion week, but doubtless +matters have gone fairly well. Nurse has all her medicine bottles +replenished, so that in case of need she knew what to do. Poor Poll, she +really made an excellent cake for my supper the last evening I was at +home.”</p> + +<p>The carriage rolled down the avenue, and the Doctor alighted on his own +doorsteps; as he did so he looked round with a pleased and expectant +smile on his face. It was six o’clock, and the evenings were drawing in +quickly; the children might be indoors, but it seemed scarcely probable. +The little Maybrights were not addicted to indoor life, and as a rule +their gay, shrill voices might have been heard echoing all over the old +place long after sunset. Not so this evening; the place was almost too +still; there was no rush of eager steps in the hall, and no clamor of +gay little voices without.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright felt a slight chill; he could not account for it. The +carriage turned and rolled away, and he quickly entered the house.</p> + +<p>“Polly, where are you? Nell, Firefly, Bunny,” he shouted.</p> + +<p>Still there was no response, unless, indeed, the rustling of a silk +dress in the drawing-room, a somewhat subdued and half-nervous cough, +and the unpleasant yelping of a small dog could have been construed into +one.</p> + +<p>“Have my entire family emigrated? And is Sleepy Hollow let to +strangers?” murmured the Doctor.</p> + +<p>He turned in the direction of the rustle, the cough, and the bark, and +found himself suddenly in the voluminous embrace of his sister-in-law, +Mrs. Cameron.</p> + +<p>“My dear Andrew, I am pleased to see you. You have been in the deep +waters of affliction, and if in my power I would have come to you +sooner. I had rheumatism and a natural antipathy to solitude. Still I +made the effort, although a damper or more lonely spot would be hard to +find. I don’t wonder at my poor sister’s demise. I got your letter, +Andrew, and it was really in reply to it that I am here. Down, Scorpion; +the dog will be all right in a moment or two, my dear brother, he is +only smelling your trousers.”</p> + +<p>“He has a very marked way of doing so,” responded the Doctor, “as I +distinctly feel his teeth. Allow me, Maria, to put this little animal +outside the window—a dog’s bite given even in play is not the most +desirable acquisition. Well, Maria, your visit astonishes me very much. +Welcome to Sleepy Hollow. Did you arrive to-day? How did you find the +children?”</p> + +<p>“I came here on Friday evening, Andrew. The children are as well as such +poor neglected lambs could be expected to be.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright raised his eyebrows very slightly.</p> + +<p>“I was not aware they were neglected,” he said. “I am<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_62' id='Page_62'>[Pg 62]</a></span> sorry they strike +you so. I also have a little natural antipathy to hearing children +compared to sheep. But where are they? I have been away for four days, +and am in the house five minutes, and not the voice of a child do I +hear? Where is Helen—where is my pretty Poll? Don’t they know that +their father has arrived?”</p> + +<p>“I cannot tell you, Andrew. I have been alone myself for the last two or +three hours, but I ordered your tea to be got ready. May I give you +some? Shall we come to the dining room at once? Your family were quite +well three hours ago, so perhaps you and I may have a quiet meal +together before we trouble about them any further. I think I may claim +this little indulgence, as only properly respectful to your wife’s +sister, Andrew.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Maria, I will have tea with you,” said the Doctor. The pleased, +bright look of anticipation had altogether now left his face; it was +careworn, the brow slightly puckered, and many lines of care and age +showed round the lips.</p> + +<p>“I will just go upstairs and wash my hands,” said Dr. Maybright. “Then I +will join you in the dining-room.”</p> + +<p>He ran up the low stairs to his own room; it was not only full of Aunt +Maria’s possessions, but was guarded by the faithful Scorpion, who had +flown there in disgust, and now again attacked the Doctor’s legs.</p> + +<p>“There is a limit,” he murmured, “and I reach it when I am bitten by +this toy terrier.”</p> + +<p>He lifted Scorpion by his neck, and administered one or two short slaps, +which sent the pampered little animal yelping under the bed; then he +proceeded down the passage in search of some other room where he might +take shelter.</p> + +<p>Alice met him; her eyes glowed, and the color in her face deepened.</p> + +<p>“We are all so glad you are back, sir,” she said, with an affectionate +tone in her voice. “And Miss Helen has got the room over the porch +ready, if you’d do with it for a night or two, sir. I’ve took hot water +there, sir, for I saw the carriage coming up the drive.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Alice; the porch room will do nicely. By the way, can you +tell me where all the children are?”</p> + +<p>But Alice had disappeared, almost flown down the passage, and the Doctor +had an uncomfortable half suspicion that he heard her sob as she went.</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright, however, was not a fanciful person—the children, with +the exception of baby, were all probably out. It was certainly rather +contrary to their usual custom to be away when his return was expected, +still, he argued, consistency in children was the last thing to be +expected. He went downstairs, therefore, with an excellent appetite for +whatever meal Mrs. Cameron might have provided for him, and once more in +tolerably good spirits.</p> + +<p>There are some people who habitually, and from a strong sense of duty, +live on the shady side of life. Metaphorically<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_63' id='Page_63'>[Pg 63]</a></span> speaking, the sunshine +may almost touch the very path on which they are treading, but they +shrink from and avoid it, having a strong preference for the shade, but +considering themselves martyrs while they live in it. Mrs. Cameron was +one of these people. The circumstances of her life had elected plenty of +sunshine for her; she had a devoted and excellent husband, an abundant +income, and admirable health. It is true she had no children, and it is +also true that she had brought herself by careful cultivation to a state +of chronic ill-temper. Every one now accepted the fact that Mrs. Cameron +neither wished to be happy, nor was happy; and when the Doctor sat down +to tea, and found himself facing her, it was with very somber and +disapproving eyes that she regarded him.</p> + +<p>“Well, Andrew, I must say you look remarkably well. Dear, dear, there is +no constancy in this world, that is, amongst the male sex.”</p> + +<p>Here she handed him a cup of tea, and sighed lugubriously. The Doctor +accepted the tea with a slight frown; he was a peaceable man, but as he +said, when chastising Scorpion, “there are limits.”</p> + +<p>“If you have no objection, Maria,” he said, curtly, “we will leave the +subject of my personal appearance and the moral question which you have +brought forward out of our conversation.”</p> + +<p>Then his voice and manner changed; he put on a company smile, and +continued, without any pause, “How is your husband? Is he as great an +antiquary as ever? And do you both continue to like living in Bath?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron was a strong and determined woman, but she was no match for +the Doctor when he chose to have his own way. For the remainder of the +meal conversation was languid, and decidedly commonplace; once only it +brightened into animation.</p> + +<p>“I wonder where Scorpion can be?” said the good lady; “I want to give +him his cream.”</p> + +<p>“I fear he is under punishment,” said the Doctor. “If I judge of him +aright, Scorpion is something of a coward, and is not likely to come +into the same room where I am for some time.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean? Surely you have not been cruel to him?”</p> + +<p>“Cruel to be kind. Once again he attempted to eat my legs, and I was +obliged to administer one or two sharp slaps—nothing to hurt; you will +find him under your bed. And now I really must go to look for my +family.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright left the room, and Mrs. Cameron sat still, scarlet with +annoyance and indignation.</p> + +<p>“How could Helen have married such a man?” she said to herself. “I never +can get on with him—never. How cowardly it was of him to hurt the +little dog. If it was not for the memory of poor dear Helen I should +leave here by the first train in the morning; but as it is, I will not +stir until I have established Miss Grinsted over this poor, misguided +household. Ah, well! duty is ever hard, but those who know Maria Cameron +are well acquainted with the fact that she never shirked it. Yes, I will +stay; it will be very unpleasant, but I must go through it. What very +abrupt manners the Doctor has! I was just preparing to tell him all +about that wicked Polly when he jumped up and left the room. Now, of +course, he will get a wrong impression of the whole thing, for the other +children all take her part. Very bad manners to jump up from the tea +table like that. And where <i>is</i> Helen?—where are they all? Now that I +come to think of it, I have seen nothing of any one of them since the +early dinner. Well, well, if it were not for poor Helen I should wash my +hands of the whole concern. But whoever suffers, dear little Scorpion +must have his cream.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly Mrs. Cameron slowly ascended the stairs, armed with a saucer +and a little jug, and Scorpion forgot the indignities to which he had +been subjected as he lapped up his dainty meal.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the Doctor having explored the morning room and the +schoolrooms, having peeped into the conservatory, and even peered with +his rather failing sight into the darkness outside, took two or three +strides upstairs, and found himself in the presence of Nurse and baby.</p> + +<p>“Well, Pearl,” he said, taking the little pure white baby into his arms, +looking into its wee face earnestly, and then giving it a kiss, which +was sad, and yet partook of something of the nature of a blessing.</p> + +<p>“Baby goes on well, Nurse,” he said, returning the little creature to +the kind woman’s arms. Then he looked into her face, and his own +expression changed.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” he said, abruptly. “You have been crying. Is +anything wrong? Where have all the children vanished to?”</p> + +<p>“You have had your tea, sir?” said Nurse, her words coming out in jerks, +and accompanied by fresh sobs. “You have had your tea, and is partial +rested, I hope, so it’s but right you should know. The entire family, +sir, every blessed one of them, with the exception of the babe, has took +upon themselves to run away.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r2286' id='r2286'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_64' id='Page_64'>[Pg 64]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2><h3>WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN?</h3> +</div> + +<p>Nurse’s news astonished the Doctor very much. He was not a man, however, +to show all he felt. He saw that Nurse was on the verge of hysterics, +and he knew that if he did not take this startling and unpleasant piece +of information in the most matter-of-fact way, he would get nothing out +of her.</p> + +<p>“I hope matters are not as bad as you fear,” he said. “Sit<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_65' id='Page_65'>[Pg 65]</a></span> down in this +chair, and tell me what has occurred. Don’t hurry yourself; a few +moments more or less don’t signify. Tell your tale quietly, in your own +way.”</p> + +<p>Thus administered, Nurse gasped once or twice, looked up at the Doctor +with eyes which plainly declared “there never was your equal for +blessedness and goodness under the sun,” and commenced her story in the +long-winded manner of her class.</p> + +<p>The Doctor heard a garbled account of the supper in the attic, of the +arrival of Mrs. Cameron, of the prompt measures which that good lady +took to crush Polly, of Firefly’s grief, of the state of confusion into +which the old house was thrown. She then went on to tell him further +that Polly, having refused to submit or repent in any way, Mrs. Cameron +had insisted on her remaining in her own room, and had at last, +notwithstanding all Helen’s entreaties, forbidden her to go near her +sister. The housekeeping keys were taken away from Polly, and Mrs. +Cameron had further taken upon herself to dismiss Maggie. She had sent a +telegram to Mrs. Power, who had returned in triumph to Sleepy Hollow on +Saturday night.</p> + +<p>“Miserable is no word for what this household has been,” said Nurse. +“There was Miss Polly—naughty she may have been, dear lamb, but vicious +she ain’t—there was Miss Polly shut up in her room, and nobody allowed +to go near her; and Mrs. Cameron poking her nose into this corner and +into that, and ordering <i>me</i> about what I was to do with the babe; and +poor Miss Helen following her about, for all the world like a ghost +herself, so still and quiet and pitiful looking, but like a dear angel +in her efforts to keep the peace; and there was Alice giving warning, +and fit to fly out of the house with rage, and Mrs. Power coming back, +and lording it over us all, more than is proper for a cook to do. Oh, +sir, we has been unhappy! and for the first time we really knew what we +had lost in our blessed mistress, and for the first time the children, +poor darlings, found out what it was to be really motherless. The meals +she’d give ’em, and the way she’d order them—oh, dear! oh, dear! it +makes me shiver to think of it!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Nurse,” interrupted the Doctor. “It was unfortunate Mrs. Cameron +arriving when I was absent. I have come back now, however, and all the +troubles you have just mentioned are, of course, at an end. Still you +have not explained the extraordinary statement you made to me when I +came into the room. Why is it that the children have run away?”</p> + +<p>“I’m a-coming to that, sir; that’s, so to speak, the crisis—and all +brought about by Mrs. Cameron. I said that Miss Polly was kept in her +room, and after the first day no one allowed to go near her. Mrs. +Cameron herself would take her up her meals, and take the tray away +again, and very little the poor dear would eat, for I often saw what +come out. It would go to your heart, sir, that it would, for a healthier +appetite than Miss Polly’s there ain’t in the family.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_66' id='Page_66'>[Pg 66]</a></span> Well, sir, Miss +Helen had a letter from you this morning, saying as how you’d be back by +six o’clock, and after dinner she went up to Miss Polly’s door, and I +heard her, for I was walking with baby up and down the passage. It was +beautiful to hear the loving way Miss Helen spoke, Doctor; she was +kneeling down and singing her words through the keyhole. ‘Father’ll be +home to-night, Polly,’ she said—‘keep up heart, Poll dear—father’ll be +home to-night, and he’ll make everything happy again.’ Nothing could +have been more tender than Miss Helen’s voice, it would have moved +anybody. But there was never a sound nor an answer from inside the room, +and just then Miss Firefly and Master Bunny came rushing up the stairs +as if they were half mad. ‘O Nell, come, come quick!’ they said, +‘there’s the step-ladder outside Poll’s window, and a bit of rope and +two towels fastened together hanging to the sill, and the window is wide +open!’ Miss Helen ran downstairs with a face like a sheet, and by and by +Alice came up and told me the rest. Master Bunny got up on the +stepladder, and by means of the rope and the bedroom towels managed to +climb on to the window sill, and then he saw there wasn’t ever a Miss +Polly at all in the room. Oh, poor dear! he might have broke his own +neck searching for her, but—well, there’s a Providence over children, +and no mistake. Miss Polly had run away, that was plain. When Miss Helen +heard it, and knew that it was true, she turned to Alice with her face +like a bit of chalk, and tears in her eyes, and, ‘Alice,’ she said, ‘I’m +going to look for Polly. You can tell Nurse I’ll be back when I have +found Polly.’ With that she walked down the path as fast as she could, +and every one of the others followed her. Alice watched them getting +over the little turnstile, and down by the broad meadow, then she came +up and let me know. I blamed her for not coming sooner, but—what’s the +matter, Doctor?”</p> + +<p>“I am going to find Polly and the others,” said Dr. Maybright. “It’s a +pity no older person in the house followed them; but so many can +scarcely come to harm. It is Polly I am anxious about—they cannot have +discovered her, or they would be home before now.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor left the nursery, ran down-stairs, put on his hat, and went +out. As he did so, he heard the dubious, questioning kind of cough which +Mrs. Cameron was so fond of making—this cough was accompanied by +Scorpion’s angry snarling little bark. The Doctor prayed inwardly for +patience as he hurried down the avenue in search of his family. He was +absolutely at a loss where to seek them.</p> + +<p>“The broad meadow only leads to the high-road,” he said to himself, “and +the high-road has many twists and turns. Surely the children cannot have +ventured on the moor; surely Polly cannot have been mad enough to try to +hide herself there.”</p> + +<p>It was a starlight night, and the Doctor walked quickly.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_67' id='Page_67'>[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I don’t know where they are. I must simply let instinct guide me,” he +said to himself; and after walking for three quarters of an hour +instinct did direct him to where, seated on a little patch of green turf +at one side of the king’s highway, were three solitary and +disreputable-looking little figures.</p> + +<p>“Father!” came convulsively from three little parched throats; there was +a volume in the cry, a tone of rapture, of longing, of pain, which was +almost indescribable. “Father’s come back again, it’s all right now,” +sobbed Firefly, and immediately the boys and the little girl had cuddled +up to him and were kissing him, each boy taking possession of a hand, +and Firefly clasping her arms round his neck.</p> + +<p>“I know all about it, children,” explained the Doctor. “But tell me +quickly, where are the others? where is Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you darling father!” said Firefly, “you darling, you darling! let +me kiss you once again. There, now I’m happy!”</p> + +<p>“But tell me where the others are, dear child.”</p> + +<p>“Just a little way off. We did get so tired, and Helen said that Polly +must have gone on the moor, and she said she must and would follow her.”</p> + +<p>“We were so tired,” said Bunny.</p> + +<p>“And there was a great nail running into my heel,” explained Bob.</p> + +<p>“So we sat down here, and tried to pretend we were gipsies,” continued +Firefly. “The moon was shining, and that was a little wee bit of +comfort, but we didn’t like it much. Father, it isn’t much fun being a +gipsy, is it?”</p> + +<p>“No, dear; but go on. How long is it since you parted from the others?”</p> + +<p>“Half an hour; but it’s all right. Bunny, you can tell that part.”</p> + +<p>Bunny puffed himself out, and tried to speak in his most important +manner.</p> + +<p>“Nell gave me the dog-whistle,” he said, “and I was to whistle it if it +was real necessary, not by no means else. I didn’t fancy that I was a +gipsy. I thought perhaps I was the driver of a fly, and that when I blew +my whistle Nell would be like another driver coming to me. That’s what I +thought,” concluded Bunny. But as his metaphors were always extremely +mixed and confusing, no one listened to him.</p> + +<p>“You have a whistle?” said the Doctor. “Give it to me. This is a very +dangerous thing that you have done, children. Now, let me see how far I +can make the sound go. Oh, that thing! I can make a better whistle than +that with my hand.”</p> + +<p>He did so, making the moor, on the borders of which they stood, resound +with a long, shrill, powerful blast. Presently faint sounds came back in +answer, and in about a quarter of an hour Helen and her three sisters, +very tired and faint, and loitering in their steps, came slowly into +view.</p> + +<p>Oh, yes; they were all so glad to see father, but they had not seen +Polly; no, not a trace nor sound could be discovered to lead to Polly’s +whereabouts.</p> + +<p>“But she must not spend the night alone on the moor,” said the Doctor. +“No, that cannot be. Children, you must all go home directly. On your +way past the lodge, Helen, desire Simpkins and George to come with +lanterns to this place. They are to wait for me here, and when they +whistle I will answer them. After they have waited here for half an +hour, and I do not whistle back, they are to begin to search the moor on +their own account. Now go home as fast as you can, my dears. I will +return when I have found Polly, not before.”</p> + +<p>The moon was very brilliant that night, and Helen’s wistful face, as she +looked full at her father, caused him to bend suddenly and kiss her. +“You are my brave child, Nell. Be the bravest of all by taking the +others home now. Home, children; and to bed at once, remember. No +visiting of the drawing-room for any of you to-night.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor smiled, and kissed his hand, and a very disconsolate little +party turned in the direction of Sleepy Hollow.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r3347' id='r3347'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_68' id='Page_68'>[Pg 68]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2><h3>THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES.</h3> +</div> + +<p>If ever there was a girl whose mind was in a confused and complex state, +that girl was Polly Maybright. Suddenly into her life of sunshine and +ease and petting, into her days of love and indulgence, came the cold +shadow of would-be justice. Polly had done wrong, and a very stern +judge, in the shape of Aunt Maria Cameron, was punishing her.</p> + +<p>Polly had often been naughty in her life; she was an independent, +quick-tempered child; she had determination, and heaps of courage, but +she was always supposed to want ballast. It was the fashion in the house +to be a little more lenient to Polly’s misdemeanors than to any one +else’s. When a very little child, Nurse had excused ungovernable fits of +rage with the injudicious words, “Poor lamb, she can’t help herself!” +The sisters, older or younger, yielded to Polly, partly because of a +certain fascination which she exercised over them, for she was extremely +brilliant and quick of idea, and partly because they did not want her to +get into what they called her tantrums. Father, too, made a pet of her, +and perhaps slightly spoiled her, but during mother’s lifetime all this +did not greatly matter, for mother guided the imperious, impetuous, +self-willed child, with the exquisite tact of love. During mother’s +lifetime, when Polly was naughty, she quickly became good again; now +matters were very different.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron was a woman who, with excellent qualities, and she had +many, had not a scrap of the “mother-feel” within her. There are women +who never called a child their<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_69' id='Page_69'>[Pg 69]</a></span> own who are full of it, but Mrs. Cameron +was not one of these. Her rule with regard to the management of young +people was simple and severe—she saw no difference between one child +and another. “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” applied equally in +every case, so now, constituting herself Polly’s rightful guardian in +the absence of her father, she made up her mind on no account to spare +the rod. Until Polly humbled herself to the very dust she should go +unforgiven. Solitary confinement was a most safe and admirable method of +correction. Therefore unrepentant Polly remained in her room.</p> + +<p>The effects, as far as the culprit was concerned, were not encouraging. +In the first place she would not acknowledge Mrs. Cameron’s right to +interfere in her life; in the next harshness had a very hardening effect +on her.</p> + +<p>It was dull in Polly’s room. The naughtiest child cannot cry all the +time, nor sulk when left quite to herself, and although, whenever Mrs. +Cameron appeared on the scene, the sulks and temper both returned in +full force, Polly spent many long and miserable hours perfectly +distracted with the longing to find something to do. The only books in +the room were Helen’s little Bible, a copy of “Robinson Crusoe,” and the +Dictionary. For obvious reasons Polly did not care to read the Bible at +present. “Robinson Crusoe” she knew already by heart, but found it +slightly amusing trying to make something of the sentences read +backwards. The Dictionary was her final resource, and she managed to +pass many tedious hours working straight through it page after page. She +had got as far as M, and life was becoming insupportable, when about the +middle of the day, on Monday, she was startled by a cautious and +stealthy noise, and also by a shadow falling directly on her page. She +looked up quickly; there was the round and radiant face of Maggie glued +to the outside of the window, while her voice came in, cautious but +piercing, “Open the window quick, Miss Polly, I’m a-falling down.”</p> + +<p>Polly flew to the rescue, and in a moment Maggie was standing in the +room. In her delight at seeing a more genial face than Aunt Maria’s, +Polly flung her arms round Maggie and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“How good of you to come!” she exclaimed. “And you must not go away +again. Where will you hide when Aunt Maria comes to visit me? Under the +bed, or in this cupboard?”</p> + +<p>“Not in neither place,” responded Maggie, who was still gasping and +breathless, and whose brown winsey frock showed a disastrous tear from +hem to waist.</p> + +<p>“Not in neither place,” she proceeded, “for I couldn’t a-bear it any +longer, and you ain’t going to stay in this room no longer, Miss Polly; +I nearly brained myself a-clinging on to the honeysuckle, and the +ivy-roots, but here I be, and now we’ll both go down the ladder and run +away.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_70' id='Page_70'>[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>“Run away—oh!” said Polly, clasping her hands, and a great flood of +rose-color lighting up her face.</p> + +<p>She ran to the window. The housemaid’s step-ladder stood below, but +Polly’s window was two or three feet above.</p> + +<p>“We’ll manage with a bit of rope and the bedroom towels,” said Maggie, +eagerly. “It’s nothing at all, getting down—it’s what I did was the +danger. Now, be quick, Miss Polly; let’s get away while they’re at +dinner.”</p> + +<p>It did not take an instant for Polly to decide. Between the delights of +roaming the country with Maggie, and the pleasure of continuing to read +through the M’s in Webster’s Dictionary, there could be little choice. +On the side of liberty and freedom alone could the balance fall. The +bedroom towels were quickly tied on to the old rope, the rope secured +firmly inside the window-sill, and the two girls let themselves swing +lightly on to the step-ladder. They were both agile, and the descent did +not terrify them in the least. When they reached the ground they took +each other’s hands, and looked into each other’s faces.</p> + +<p>“You might have thought of bringing a hat, Miss Polly.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, never mind, Maggie. You do look shabby; your frock is torn right +open.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Miss, I got it a-coming to save you. Miss Polly, Mrs. Power’s +back in the kitchen. Hadn’t we better run? We’ll talk afterwards.”</p> + +<p>So they did, not meeting any one, for Mrs. Cameron and the children were +all at dinner, and the servants were also in the house. They ran through +the kitchen garden, vaulted over the sunken fence, and found themselves +in the little sheltered green lane, where Polly had lain on her face and +hands and caught the thrushes on the July day when her mother died. She +stood almost in the same spot now, but her mind was in too great a +whirl, and her feelings too excited, to cast back any glances of memory +just then.</p> + +<p>“Well, Maggie,” she said, pulling up short, “now, what are your plans? +Where are we going to? Where are we to hide?”</p> + +<p>“Eh?” said Maggie.</p> + +<p>She had evidently come to the end of her resources, and the intelligent +light suddenly left her face.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t think o’ that,” she said: “there’s mother’s.”</p> + +<p>“No, that wouldn’t do,” interrupted Polly. “Your mother has only two +rooms. I couldn’t hide long in her house; and besides, she is poor, I +would not put myself on her for anything. I’ll tell you what, Maggie, +we’ll go across Peg-Top Moor, and make straight for the old hut by the +belt of fir-trees. You know it, we had a picnic there once, and I made +up a story of hermits living in the hut. Well, you and I will be the +hermits.”</p> + +<p>“But what are we to eat?” said Maggie, whose ideas were all practical, +and her appetite capacious.</p> + +<p>Polly’s bright eyes, however, were dancing, and her whole<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_71' id='Page_71'>[Pg 71]</a></span> face was +radiant. The delight of being a real hermit, and living in a real hut, +far surpassed any desire for food.</p> + +<p>“We’ll eat berries from the trees,” she said, “and we’ll drink water +from the spring. I know there’s a spring of delicious water not far from +the hut. Oh! come along, Maggie, do; this is delightful!”</p> + +<p>An old pony, who went in the family by the stately name of Sultan, had +been wont to help the children in their long rambles over the moor. They +were never allowed to wander far alone, and had not made one expedition +since their mother’s death. It was really two years since Polly had been +to the hut at the far end of Peg-Top Moor. This moor was particularly +lonely, it was interspersed at intervals with thickets of rank +undergrowth and belts of trees, and was much frequented on that account +by gipsies and other lawless people. Polly, who went last over the moor, +carried the greater part of the way on Sultan’s friendly back, had very +little idea how far the distance was. It was September now, but the sun +shone on the heather and fern with great power, and as Polly had no hat +on her head, having refused to take Maggie’s from her; she was glad to +take shelter under friendly trees whenever they came across her path.</p> + +<p>At first the little girls walked very quickly, for they were afraid of +being overtaken and brought back; but after a time their steps grew +slow, their movement decidedly languid, and Maggie at least began to +feel that berries from the trees and water from the spring, particularly +when neither was to be found anywhere, was by no means a substantial or +agreeable diet to dwell upon.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I like being a hermit,” she began. “I don’t know nought +what it means, but I fancy it must be very thinning and running down to +the constitootion.”</p> + +<p>Polly looked at her, and burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>“It is,” she said, “that’s what the life was meant for, to subdue the +flesh in all possible ways; you’ll get as thin as a whipping-post, Mag.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t like it,” retorted Maggie. “May-be we’d best be returning home, +now, Miss Polly.”</p> + +<p>Polly’s eyes flashed. She caught Maggie by the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“You are a mean girl,” she said. “You got me into this scrape, and now +you mean to desert me. I was sitting quietly in my room, reading through +the M’s in Webster’s Dictionary, and you came and asked me to run away; +it was your doing, Maggie, you know that.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, miss! yes, Miss!”</p> + +<p>Maggie began to sob. “But I never, never thought it meant berries and +spring-water; no, that I didn’t. Oh, I be so hungry!”</p> + +<p>At this moment all angry recriminations were frozen on the lips of both +little girls, for rising suddenly, almost as it seemed from the ground +at their feet, appeared a gaunt woman of gigantic make.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_72' id='Page_72'>[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>“May-be you’ll be hungrier,” she said in a menacing voice. “What +business have you to go through Deadman’s Copse without leave?”</p> + +<p>Maggie was much too alarmed to make any reply, but Polly, after a moment +or two of startled silence, came boldly to the rescue.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” she said. “Maggie and I know nothing of Deadman’s Copse; +this is a wood, and we are going through it; we have got business on the +other side of Peg-Top-Moor.”</p> + +<p>“That’s as it may be,” replied the woman, “this wood belongs to me and +to my sons, Nathaniel and Patrick, and to our dogs, Cinder and Flinder, +and those what goes through Deadman’s Copse must pay toll to me, the +wife of Micah Jones. My husband is dead, and he left the wood to me, and +them as go through it must pay toll.”</p> + +<p>The woman’s voice was very menacing; she was of enormous size, and going +up to the little girls, attempted to place one of her brawny arms on +Polly’s shoulder. But Polly with all her faults possessed a great deal +of courage; her eyes flashed, and she sprang aside from the woman’s +touch.</p> + +<p>“You are talking nonsense,” she said. “Father has over and over told me +that the moor belongs to the Queen, so this little bit couldn’t have +been given to your husband, Micah Jones, and we are just as free to walk +here as you are. Come on, Maggie, we’ll be late for our business if we +idle any longer.”</p> + +<p>But the woman with a loud and angry word detained her.</p> + +<p>“Highty-tighty!” she said. “Here’s spirit for you, and who may your +respected papa be, my dear? He seems to be mighty wise. And the wife of +Micah Jones would much like to know his name.”</p> + +<p>“You’re a very rude unpleasant woman,” said Polly. “Don’t hold me, I +won’t be touched by you. My father is Dr. Maybright, of Sleepy Hollow, +you must know his name quite well.”</p> + +<p>The wife of Micah Jones dropped a supercilious curtsey.</p> + +<p>“Will you tell Dr. Maybright, my pretty little dear,” she said, “that in +these parts might is right, and that when the Queen wants Deadman’s +Copse, she can come and have a talk with me, and my two sons, and the +dogs, Cinder and Flinder. But, there, what am I idling for with a chit +like you? You and that other girl there have got to pay toll. You have +both of you got to give me your clothes. There’s no way out of it, so +you needn’t think to try words, nor blarney, nor nothing else with me, I +have a sack dress each for you, and what you have on is mine. That’s the +toll, you will have to pay it. My hut is just beyond at the other side +of the wood, my sons are away, but Cinder and Flinder will take care of +you until I come back, at nine o’clock. Here, follow me, we’re close to +the hut. No words, or it will be the worse for you. On in front, the two +of you, or you, little Miss,” shaking her hand angrily at Polly, “will +know what it means to bandy words with the wife of Micah Jones.”</p> + +<p>The woman’s face became now very fierce and terrible, and even Polly was +sufficiently impressed to walk quietly before her, clutching hold of +poor terrified Maggie’s hand.</p> + +<p>The hut to which the woman took the little girls was the very hermit’s +hut to which their own steps had been bent. It was a very dirty place, +consisting of one room, which was now filled with smoke from a fire made +of broken faggots, fir-cones, and withered fern. Two ugly, lean-looking +dogs guarded the entrance to the hut. When they saw the woman coming, +they jumped up and began to bark savagely; poor Maggie began to scream, +and Polly for the first time discovered that there could be a worse +state of things than solitary confinement in her room, with Webster’s +Dictionary for company.</p> + +<p>“Sit you there,” said the woman, pushing the little girls into the hut. +“I’ll be back at nine o’clock. I’m off now on some business of my own. +When I come back I’ll take your clothes, and give you a sack each to +wear. Cinder and Flinder will take care of you; they’re very savage +dogs, and can bite awful, but they won’t touch you if you sit very +quiet, and don’t attempt to run away.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r3325' id='r3325'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_73' id='Page_73'>[Pg 73]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2><h3>DISTRESSED HEROINES.</h3> +</div> + +<p>If ever poor little girls found themselves in a sad plight it was the +two who now huddled close together in the hermit’s hut. Even Polly was +thoroughly frightened, and as to Maggie, nothing but the angry growls of +Cinder restrained the violence of her sobs.</p> + +<p>“Oh, ain’t a hermit’s life awful!” she whispered more than once to her +companion. “Oh! Miss Polly, why did you speak of Peg-Top Moor, and the +hermit’s hut, and berries and water?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be silly, Maggie,” said Polly, “I did not mention the wife of +Micah Jones, nor these dreadful dogs. This is a misfortune, and we must +bear it as best we can. Have you none of the spirit of a heroine in you, +Maggie; don’t you know that in all the story-books, when the heroines +run away, they come to dreadful grief? If we look at it in that light, +and think of ourselves as distressed heroines, it will help us to bear +up. Indeed,” continued Polly, “if it wasn’t for my having been naughty a +few days ago, and perhaps father coming back to-night, I think I’d enjoy +this—I would really. As it is——” Here the brave little voice broke +off into a decided quaver. The night was falling, the stars were coming +out in the sky, and Polly, standing in the door of the hut, with her arm +thrown protectingly round Maggie’s neck, found a great rush of +loneliness come over her.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_74' id='Page_74'>[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + +<p>During those weary days spent in her bed-room, repentance, even in the +most transient guise, had scarcely come near her. She was too much +oppressed with a sense of injustice done to herself to be sorry about +the feast in the attic. In short, all her time was spent in blaming Aunt +Maria.</p> + +<p>Now with the lonely feeling came a great soreness of heart, and an +intense and painful longing for her mother. Those fits of longing which +came to Polly now and then heralded in, as a rule, a tempest of grief. +Wherever she was she would fling herself on the ground, and give way to +most passionate weeping. Her eyes swam in tears now, she trembled +slightly, but controlled herself. On Maggie’s account it would never do +for her to give way. The ugly dogs came up and sniffed at her hands, and +smelt her dress. Maggie screamed when they approached her, but Polly +patted their heads. She was not really afraid of them, neither was she +greatly alarmed at the thought of the wife of Micah Jones. What +oppressed her, and brought that feeling of tightness to her throat, and +that smarting weight of tears to her eyes, were the great multitude of +stars in the dark-blue heavens, and the infinite and grand solitude of +the moors which lay around.</p> + +<p>The night grew darker; poor Maggie, worn out, crouched down on the +ground; Polly, who had now quite made friends with Cinder, sat by +Maggie’s side, and when the poor hungry little girl fell asleep, Polly +let her rest her head in her lap. The dogs and the two children were all +collected in the doorway of the hut, and now Polly could look more +calmly up at the stars, and the tears rolled silently down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>It was in this position that, at about a quarter to nine, Dr. Maybright +found her. Some instinct seemed to lead him to Peg-Top Moor—a sudden +recollection brought the hut to his memory, a ringing voice, and gay +laugh came back to him. The laugh was Polly’s, the words were hers. “Oh, +if there could be a delightful thing, it would be to live as a hermit in +the hut at the other side of Peg-Top Moor!”</p> + +<p>“The child is there,” he said to himself. And when this thought came to +him he felt so sure that it was a true and guiding thought that he +whistled for the men who were to help him in the search, and together +they went to the hut.</p> + +<p>Cinder and Flinder had got accustomed to Polly, whom they rather liked; +Maggie they barely tolerated; but the firm steps of three strangers +approaching the hut caused them to bristle up, to call all their canine +ferocity to their aid, and to bark furiously.</p> + +<p>But all their show of enmity mattered nothing in such a supreme moment +as this to Polly. No dogs, however fierce, should keep her from the arms +of her father. In an instant she was there, cuddling up close to him, +while the men he had brought with him took care of Maggie, and beat off +the angry dogs.</p> + +<p>“Father, there never was any one as naughty as I have been!”</p> + +<p>“My darling, you have found that out?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, yes! and you may punish me just whatever way you like best, +only let me kiss you now. Punish me, but don’t be angry.”</p> + +<p>“I’m going to take you home,” said Doctor, who feared mischief from +Polly’s present state of strong excitement. “I expect you have gone +through a fright and have had some punishment. The minute, too, we find +out that we are really naughty, our punishment begins, as well as our +forgiveness. I shall very likely punish you, child, but be satisfied, I +forgive you freely. Now home, and to bed, and no talk of anything +to-night, except a good supper, and a long restful sleep. Come, Polly, +what’s the matter? Do you object to be carried?”</p> + +<p>“But not in your arms, father. I am so big and heavy, it will half kill +you.”</p> + +<p>“You are tall, but not heavy, you are as light as a reed. Listen! I +forbid you to walk a step. When I am tired there are two men to help me. +Simpkins, will you and George give Maggie a hand, and keep close to us. +Now, we had better all get home as fast as possible.”</p> + +<p>It was more than half-past ten that night before Polly and the Doctor +returned to Sleepy Hollow. But what a journey home she had! how +comforting were the arms that supported her, how restful was the +shoulder, on which now and then in an ecstasy to love and repentance, +she laid her tired head! The stars were no longer terrible, far-off, and +lonely, but near and friendly, like the faces of well-known friends. The +moor ceased to be a great, vast, awful solitude, it smelt of heather, +and was alive with the innumerable sounds of happy living creatures—and +best of all, mother herself seemed to come back out of the infinite, to +comfort the heart of the sorrowful child.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r1796' id='r1796'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_75' id='Page_75'>[Pg 75]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2><h3>LIMITS.</h3> +</div> + +<p>“And <i>now</i>, Maria, I want to know what is the meaning of all this,” said +the Doctor.</p> + +<p>It was late that night, very late. Polly was in bed, and Helen lay in +her little white bed also close to Polly’s side, so close that the +sisters could hold each other’s hands. They lay asleep now, breathing +peacefully, and the Doctor, being satisfied that no serious mischief had +happened to any of his family, meant to have it out with his +sister-in-law.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron was a very brave woman, or at least she considered herself +so; it was perfectly natural that people should fear her, she did not +object to a little wholesome awe on the parts of those who looked up to +her and depended<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_76' id='Page_76'>[Pg 76]</a></span> on her words of wisdom. To be afraid on her own part +was certainly not her custom, and yet that evening, as she sat alone in +the deserted old drawing-room, and listened to the wind as it rose +fitfully and moaned through the belt of fir-trees that sheltered the +lawn; as she sat there, pretending to knit, but listening all the time +for footsteps which did not come, she did own to a feeling which she +would not describe as fear, but which certainly kept her from going to +bed, and made her feel somewhat uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>It was about eleven o’clock that night when Dr. Maybright entered the +drawing-room. He was a tall man with a slight stoop, and his eyes looked +somewhat short-sighted. Tonight, however, he walked in quickly, holding +himself erect. His eyes, too, had lost their peculiar expression of +nearness of vision, and Mrs. Cameron knew at once that she was in for a +bad time.</p> + +<p>“And now, Maria, I want to know what is the meaning of all this,” he +said, coming up close to her.</p> + +<p>She was standing, having gathered up her knitting preparatory to +retiring.</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand you, Andrew,” she answered, in a somewhat +complaining, but also slightly alarmed voice. “I think it is I who have +to ask for an explanation. How is it that I have been left alone this +entire evening? I had much to say to you—I came here on purpose, and +yet you left me to myself all these hours.”</p> + +<p>“Sit down, Maria,” said the Doctor, more gently. “I can give you as much +time as you can desire now, and as you will be leaving in the morning it +is as well that we should have our talk out to-night.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron’s face became now really crimson with anger.</p> + +<p>“You can say words like that to me?” she said—“your wife’s sister.”</p> + +<p>“My dear wife’s half-sister, and until now my very good friend,” +retorted the Doctor. “But, however well you have meant it, you have sown +dissension and unhappiness in the midst of a number of motherless +children, and for the present at least, for all parties, I must ask you, +Maria, to return to Bath.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron sank now plump down into her chair. She was too deeply +offended for a moment to speak. Then she said, shortly:</p> + +<p>“I will certainly return, but from this moment I wash my hands of you +all.”</p> + +<p>“I hope not,” said the Doctor. “I trust another time you will come to me +as my welcome and invited guest. You see, Maria”—here his eyes +twinkled with that sly humor which characterized him—“it was a +mistake—it always is a mistake to take the full reins of government in +any house uninvited.”</p> + +<p>“But, Andrew, you were making such a fool of yourself.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_77' id='Page_77'>[Pg 77]</a></span> After that +letter of yours I felt almost hopeless, so for poor Helen’s sake I came, +at <i>great</i> personal inconvenience. Your home is most dreary, the +surroundings appalling in their solitude. No wonder Helen died! Andrew, +I thought it but right to do my best for those poor children. I came, +the house was in a state of riot, you have not an idea what Polly’s +conduct was. Disrespectful, insolent, impertinent. I consider her an +almost wicked girl.”</p> + +<p>“Stop,” said the Doctor. “We are not going to discuss Polly. She behaved +badly, I grant. But I think, Maria, when you locked her up in her room, +and forbade Helen to go to her, and treated her without a spark of +affection or a vestige of sympathy; when you kept up this line of +conduct for four long days, you yourself in God’s sight were not +blameless. You at least forgot that you, too, were once fourteen, or +perhaps you never were; no, I am sure you never were what that child is +with all her faults—noble.”</p> + +<p>“That is enough, Andrew, we will, as you say, not discuss Polly further. +I leave by the first train that can take me away in the morning. You are +a very much mistaking and ill-judging man; you were never worthy to be +Helen’s husband, and I bitterly grieve that her children must be brought +up by you. For Helen’s sake alone, I must now give you one parting piece +of advice, it is this: When Miss Grinsted comes, treat her with kindness +and consideration. Keep Miss Grinsted in this house at all hazards, and +there may be a chance for your family.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Grinsted!” said the Doctor. “Who, and what do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Andrew, when I introduce you to such a lady I heap coals of fire on +your head. Miss Grinsted alone can bring order out of chaos, peace out +of strife. In short, when she is established here, I shall feel at rest +as far as my dear sister’s memory is concerned.”</p> + +<p>“Miss Grinsted is not going to be established in this house,” said the +Doctor. “But who is she? I never heard of her before.”</p> + +<p>“She is the lady-housekeeper and governess whom I have selected for you. +She arrives at mid-day to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“From where?”</p> + +<p>“How queerly you look at me, Andrew. Nobody would suppose you were just +delivered from a load of household care and confusion. Such a treasure, +too, the best of disciplinarians. She is fifty, a little angular, but +capital at breaking in. What is the matter, Andrew?”</p> + +<p>“What is Miss Grinsted’s address?”</p> + +<p>“Well, well; really your manners are bearish. She is staying with an +invalid sister at Exeter at present.”</p> + +<p>“Will you oblige me with the street and number of the house?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly; but she can scarcely get here before mid-day now. Her trains +are all arranged.”</p> + +<p>“The name of the street and number of the house, if you please, Maria.”</p> + +<p>“Vere Street, No. 30. But she can’t be here before twelve or one +to-morrow, Andrew.”</p> + +<p>“She is never to come here. I shall go into the village the first thing +in the morning, and send her a telegram. She is never to come here. +Maria, you made a mistake, you went too far. If you and I are to speak +to each other in the future, don’t let it occur again. Good-night; I +will see that you are called in good time in the morning.”</p> + +<p>It was useless either to argue or to fight. Dr. Maybright had, as the +children sometimes described it, a shut-up look on his face. No one was +ever yet known to interfere seriously with the Doctor when he wore that +expression, and Aunt Maria, with Scorpion under her arm, hobbled +upstairs, tired, weary, and defeated.</p> + +<p>“I wash my hands of him and his,” she muttered; and the unhappy lady +shed some bitter tears of wounded mortification and vanity as she laid +her head on her pillow.</p> + +<p>“I know I was severe with her,” murmured the Doctor to himself, “but +there are some women who must be put down with a firm hand. Yes, I can +bear a great deal, but to have Maria Cameron punishing Polly, and +establishing a housekeeper and governess of her own choosing in this +family is beyond my patience. As I said before, there are limits.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r9767' id='r9767'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_78' id='Page_78'>[Pg 78]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2><h3>THE HIGH MOUNTAINS.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Helen and Polly slept late on the following morning. They were both +awakened simultaneously by Nurse, who, holding baby in her arms, came +briskly into the room. Nurse was immediately followed by Alice, bearing +a tray with an appetizing breakfast for both the little girls.</p> + +<p>“The Doctor says you are neither of you to get up until you have had a +good meal,” said Nurse. “And, Miss Polly, he’d like to have a word with +you, darling, in his study about eleven o’clock. Eh, dear, but it’s +blessed and comforting to have the dear man home again; the house feels +like itself, and we may breathe now.”</p> + +<p>“And it’s blessed and comforting to have one we wot of away again,” +retorted Alice. “The young ladies will be pleased, won’t they, Nurse?”</p> + +<p>“To be sure they will. You needn’t look so startled, loveys, either of +you. It’s only your aunt and the dog what is well quit of the house. +They’re on their road to Bath now, and long may they stay there.”</p> + +<p>At this news Helen looked a little puzzled, and not very joyful, but +Polly instantly sat up in bed and spoke in very bright tones.</p> + +<p>“What a darling father is! I’m as hungry as possible.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_79' id='Page_79'>[Pg 79]</a></span> Give me my +breakfast, please, Alice; and oh, Nurse, mightn’t baby sit between us +for a little in bed?”</p> + +<p>“You must support her back well with pillows,” said Nurse. “And see as +you don’t spill any coffee on her white dress. Eh! then, isn’t she the +sweetest and prettiest lamb in all the world?”</p> + +<p>The baby, whose little white face had not a tinge of color, and whose +very large velvety brown eyes always wore a gentle, heavenly calm about +them, smiled in a slow way. When she smiled she showed dimples, but she +was a wonderfully grave baby, as though she knew something of the great +loss which had accompanied her birth.</p> + +<p>“She is lovely,” said Polly. “It makes me feel good even to look at +her.”</p> + +<p>“Then be good, for her sake, darling,” said Nurse, suddenly stooping and +kissing the bright, vivacious girl, and then bestowing another and +tenderer kiss on the motherless baby. “She’s for all the world like +Peace itself,” said Nurse. “There ain’t no sort of naughtiness or +crossness in her.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, she makes me feel good!” said Polly, hugging the little creature +fondly to her side.</p> + +<p>Two hours later Polly stood with her father’s arm round her neck: a +slanting ray of sunlight was falling across the old faded carpet in the +study, and mother’s eyes smiled out of their picture at Polly from the +wall.</p> + +<p>“You have been punished enough,” said the Doctor. “I have sent for you +now just to say a word or two. You are a very young climber, Polly, but +if this kind of thing is often repeated, you will never make any way.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand you, father.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor patted Polly’s curly head.</p> + +<p>“Child,” he said, “we have all of us to go up mountains, and if you +choose a higher one, with peaks nearer to the sky than others, you have +all the more need for the necessary helps for ascent.”</p> + +<p>“Father is always delightful when he is allegorical,” Polly had once +said.</p> + +<p>Now she threw back her head, looked full into his dearly-loved face, +clasped his hands tightly in both her own, and said with tears filling +her eyes, “I am glad you are going to teach me through a kind of story, +and I think I know what you mean by my trying to climb the highest +mountain. I always did long to do whatever I did a little better than +any one else.”</p> + +<p>“Exactly so, Polly; go on wishing that. Still try to climb the highest +mountain, only take with you humility instead of self-confidence, and +then, child, you will succeed, for you will be very glad to avail +yourself of the necessary helps.”</p> + +<p>“The helps? What are they, father? I partly know what you mean, but I am +not sure that I quite know.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, you quite know. You have known ever since you knelt at your +mother’s knee, and whispered your prayers<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_80' id='Page_80'>[Pg 80]</a></span> all the better to God because +she was listening too. But I will explain myself by the commonest of +illustrations. A shepherd wanted to rescue one of his flock from a most +perilous situation. The straying sheep had come to a ledge of rock, from +where it could not move either backwards or forwards. It had climbed up +thousands of feet. How was the shepherd to get it? There was one way. +His friends went by another road to the top of the mountain. From there +they threw down ropes, which he bound firmly round him, and then they +drew him slowly up. He reached the ledge, he rescued the sheep, and it +was saved. He could have done nothing without the ropes. So you, too, +Polly, can do nothing worthy; you can never climb your high mountain +without the aid of that prayer which links you to your Father in heaven. +Do you understand?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I understand,” said Polly; “I see. I won’t housekeep any more for +the present, father.”</p> + +<p>“You had better not, dear; you have plenty of talent for this, as well +as for anything else you like to undertake, but you lack experience now, +and discretion. It was just all this, and that self-confidence which I +alluded to just now, which got my little girl into all this trouble, and +caused Aunt Maria to think very badly of her. Aunt Maria has gone, so we +will say nothing about her just at present. I may be a foolish old +father, Polly, but I own I have a great desire to keep my children to +myself just now. So I shall give Sleepy Hollow another chance of doing +without a grownup housekeeper. Your governesses and masters shall come +to teach you as arranged, but Helen must be housekeeper, with Mrs. +Power, who is a very managing person, to help her. Helen, too, must have +a certain amount of authority over you all, with the power to appeal to +me in any emergency. This you must submit to, Polly, and I shall expect +you to do so with a good grace.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, father.”</p> + +<p>“I have acceded to your wishes in the matter of bringing the Australian +children here for at least six months. So you see you will have a good +deal on your hands; and as I have done so at the express wish of Helen +and yourself, I shall expect you both to take a good deal of +responsibility, and to be in every sense of the word, extra good.”</p> + +<p>Polly’s eyes danced with pleasure. Then she looked up into her father’s +face, and something she saw there caused her to clasp her arms round his +neck, and whisper eagerly and impulsively:</p> + +<p>“Father, dear, what Helen told me is <i>not</i> true—is it?”</p> + +<p>“You mean about my eyes, Polly? So Helen knows, and has spoken about it, +poor girl?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes, but it isn’t true, it can’t be?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t tremble, Polly. I am quite willing to tell you how things really +are. I don’t wish it to be spoken of, but it is a relief to trust some +one. I saw Sir James Dawson when<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_81' id='Page_81'>[Pg 81]</a></span> in town. He is the first oculist in +England. He told me that my sight was in a precarious state, and that if +matters turned out unfavorably it is possible, nay probable, that I may +become quite blind. On the other hand, he gives me a prescription which +he thinks and hopes will avert the danger.”</p> + +<p>“What is it? Oh! father, you will surely try it?”</p> + +<p>“If you and the others will help me.”</p> + +<p>“But what is it?”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright stroked back Polly’s curls.</p> + +<p>“Very little anxiety,” he said. “As much rest as possible, worries +forbidden, home peace and rest largely insisted upon. Now run away, my +dear. I hear the tramp of my poor people. This is their morning, you +remember.”</p> + +<p>Polly kissed her father, and quietly left the room.</p> + +<p>“See if I’m not good after that,” she murmured. “Wild horses shouldn’t +drag me into naughtiness after what father has just said.”</p> + + +<h2>PART II.</h2> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r3023' id='r3023'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_82' id='Page_82'>[Pg 82]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2><h3>A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS.</h3> +</div> + +<p>All the young Maybrights, with the exception of the baby, were collected +in the morning-room. It was the middle of October. The summer heat had +long departed, the trees were shedding their leaves fast, the sky had an +appearance of coming wind and showers; the great stretch of moorland +which could be seen best in winter when the oaks and elms were bare, was +distinctly visible. The moor had broad shadows on it, also tracts of +intense light; the bracken was changing from green to brown and yellow +color—brilliant color was everywhere. At this time of year the moors in +many ways looked their best.</p> + +<p>The Maybright children, however, were not thinking of the landscape, or +the fast approach of winter, they were busily engaged chattering and +consulting together. It was four o’clock in the afternoon, and they knew +that the time left for them to prepare was short, consequently their +busy fingers worked as well as their tongues. Helen was helping the +twins and the little boys to make up a wreath of enormous dimensions, +and Polly, as usual, was flitting about the room, followed by her +satellite Firefly. As usual, too, Polly was first to remark and quickest +to censure. She looked very much like the old Polly; no outward change +was in the least visible, although now she yielded a kind of obedience +to the most gentle and unexacting of sisters, and although she still +vowed daily to herself, that she, Polly, would certainly climb the +highest mountain, and for father’s sake would be the best of all his +children.</p> + +<p>“How slow you are, Nell,” she now exclaimed, impatiently; “and look what +a crooked ‘E’ you have made to the end of ‘WELCOME.’ Oh, don’t be so +slow, boys! Paul and Virginia will be here before we are half ready.”</p> + +<p>“They can’t come before six o’clock,” said Helen. “We have two hours yet +left to work in. Do, dear, pretty Polly, find something else to take up +your time, and let the twins and the boys help me to finish this +wreath.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, if you don’t want me,” said Polly, in a slightly offended voice. +“Come along, Fly, we’ll go up and see if Virginia’s room is ready, and +then we’ll pay a visit to our baby. You and I won’t stay where we are +not wanted. Come along.”</p> + +<p>Fly trotted off by her elder sister’s side, a great light of contentment +filling her big eyes. The two scampered upstairs,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_83' id='Page_83'>[Pg 83]</a></span> saw that a cozy nest +was all ready for the Australian girl, while a smaller room at the other +side of the passage was in equal readiness for the boy.</p> + +<p>“Oh, what darling flowers!” said Firefly, running up to the dressing +table in the principal bedroom, and sniffing at the contents of a dainty +blue jar. “Why, Polly, these buds must be from your own pet tea-rose.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Polly, in a careless voice, “they are; I picked them for +Virginia this morning. I’d do anything for Virginia. I’m greatly excited +about her coming.”</p> + +<p>“You never saw her,” said Firefly, in an aggrieved voice. “You wouldn’t +give me your tea-roses. I don’t think it’s nice of you to be fonder of +her than you are of me. And Nursie says her name isn’t Virginia.”</p> + +<p>“Never mind, she’s Virginia to me, and the boy is Paul. Why, Fly, what a +jealous little piece you are. Come here, and sit on my lap. Of course +I’m fond of you, Fly, but I’m not excited about you. I know just the +kind of nose you have, and the kind of mouth, and the kind of big, +scarecrow eyes, but you see I don’t know anything at all about Virginia, +so I’m making up stories about her, and pictures, all day long. I expect +she’s something of a barbarian, both she and her brother, and isn’t it +delicious to think of having two real live barbarians in the house?”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” said Firefly, in a dubious voice. “I suppose if they are real +barbarians, they won’t know a bit how to behave, and we’ll have to teach +them. I’ll rather like that.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’ll have to be awfully good, Fly, for they’ll copy you in every +way; no sulking or sitting crooked, or having untidy hair, or you’ll +have a couple of barbarians just doing the very same thing. Now, jump +off my lap, I want to go to Nurse, and you may come with me as a great +treat. I’m going to undress baby. I do it every night; and you may see +how I manage. Nurse says I’m very clever about the way I manage babies.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you’re clever about everything,” said Fly, with a prolonged, +deep-drawn breath. “Well, Polly, I do hope one thing.”</p> + +<p>“Yes?”</p> + +<p>“I do hope that the barbarians will be very, very ugly, for after you’ve +seen them you won’t be curious any more, and after you know them there +won’t be any stories to make up, and then you won’t love them better +than me.”</p> + +<p>“What a silly you are, Fly,” responded Polly.</p> + +<p>But she gave her little sister’s hand an affectionate squeeze, which +satisfied the hungry and exacting heart of its small owner for the +present.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the enormous wreath progressed well, and presently took upon +important position over the house doorway. As the daylight was getting +dim, and as it would, in the estimation of the children, be the +cruellest thing possible if the full glories of the wreath were not +visible to the eyes of<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_84' id='Page_84'>[Pg 84]</a></span> the strangers when they approached Sleepy +Hollow, lamps were cunningly placed in positions where their full light +could fall on the large “Welcome,” which was almost the unaided work of +the twins and their small brothers.</p> + +<p>But now six o’clock was drawing near, and Polly and Firefly joined the +rest of the children in the hall. The whole house was in perfect order; +an excellent supper would be ready at any moment, and there was little +doubt that when the strangers did appear they would receive a most +hearty welcome.</p> + +<p>“Wheels at last!” said Bunny, turning a somersault in the air.</p> + +<p>“Hurrah! Three cheers for the barbarians!” sang out Firefly.</p> + +<p>“I do hope Virginia will be beautiful,” whispered Polly, under her +breath.</p> + +<p>Helen went and stood on the doorsteps. Polly suddenly raised a colored +lamp, and waved it above her head.</p> + +<p>“Welcome” smiled down from the enormous wreath, and shone on the +features of each Maybright as the Doctor opened the door of the +carriage, and helped a tall, slender girl, and a little boy in a black +velvet suit, to get out.</p> + +<p>“Our travelers are very hungry, Polly,” he said, “and—and—very tired. +Yes, I see you have prepared things nicely for them. But first of all +they must have supper, and after that I shall prescribe bed. Welcome, my +dear children, to Sleepy Hollow! May it be a happy home to you both.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said the girl.</p> + +<p>She had a pale face, a quantity of long light hair, and dreamy, sleepy +eyes; the boy, on the contrary, had an alert and watchful expression; he +clung to his sister, and looked in her face when she spoke.</p> + +<p>“Do tell us what you are called,” said Polly. “We are all just dying to +know. Oh! I trust, I do trust that you are really Paul and Virginia. How +perfectly lovely it would be if those were your real names.”</p> + +<p>The tall girl looked full into Polly’s eyes, a strange, sweet, wistful +light filled her own, her words came out musically.</p> + +<p>“I am Flower,” she said, “and this is David. I am thirteen years old, +and David is eight. Father sent us away because after mother died there +was no one to take care of us.”</p> + +<p>A sigh of intense interest and sympathy fell from the lips of all the +young Maybrights.</p> + +<p>“Come upstairs, Flower; we know quite well how to be sorry for you,” +said Helen.</p> + +<p>She took the strange girl’s hand, and led her up the broad staircase.</p> + +<p>“I’ll stay below,” said David. “I’m not the least tired, and my hands +don’t want washing. Who’s the jolliest here? Couldn’t we have a game of +ball? I haven’t played ball since I left Ballarat. Flower wouldn’t let +me. She said I might when I came here. She spoke about coming here all +the<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_85' id='Page_85'>[Pg 85]</a></span> time, and she always wanted to see your mother. She cried the whole +of last night because your mother was dead. Now has nobody got a ball, +and won’t the jolliest begin?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll play with you, David,” said Polly. “Now catch; there! once, twice, +thrice. Aren’t you starving? I want my tea, if you don’t.”</p> + +<p>“Flower said I wasn’t to ask for anything to eat now that your mother is +dead,” responded David. “She said it wasn’t likely we’d stay, but that +while we did I was to be on my good behavior. I hate being on my good +behavior; but Flower’s an awful mistress. Yes, of course, I’m starving.”</p> + +<p>“Well, come in to tea, then,” said Polly, laughing. “Perhaps you will +stay, and anyhow we are glad to have you for a little. Children, please +don’t stare so hard.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind,” said David. “They may stare if it pleases them; I rather +like it.”</p> + +<p>“Like being stared at!” repeated Firefly, whose own sensitive little +nature resented the most transient glance.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” responded David, calmly; “it shows that I’m admired; and I know +that I’m a very handsome boy.”</p> + +<p>So he was, with dark eyes like a gipsy, and a splendid upright figure +and bearing. Far from being the barbarian of Polly’s imagination, he had +some of the airs and graces of a born aristocrat. His calm remarks and +utter coolness astonished the little Maybrights, who rather shrank away +from him, and left him altogether to Polly’s patronage.</p> + +<p>At this moment Helen and the young Australian girl came down together. +David instantly trotted up to his sister.</p> + +<p>“She thinks that perhaps we’ll stay, Flower,” pointing with his finger +at Polly, “and in that case I needn’t keep up my company manners, need +I?”</p> + +<p>“But you must behave well, David,” responded Flower, “or the English +nation will fancy we are not civilized.”</p> + +<p>She smiled in a lovely languid way at her brother, and looked round with +calm indifference at the boys and girls who pressed close to her.</p> + +<p>“Come and have tea,” said Helen.</p> + +<p>She placed Flower at her right hand. The Doctor took the head of the +table, and the meal progressed more or less in silence. Flower was too +lazy or too delicate to eat much. David spent all his time in trying to +make Firefly laugh, and in avoiding the Doctor’s penetrating glance. The +Maybrights were too astonished at the appearance of their guests to feel +thoroughly at ease. Polly had a sensation of things being somehow rather +flat, and the Doctor wondered much in his inward soul how this new +experiment would work.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r4540' id='r4540'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_86' id='Page_86'>[Pg 86]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2><h3>A YOUNG QUEEN.</h3> +</div> + +<p>It did not work well as far as Polly was concerned. Whatever she was at +home, whatever her faults and failings, whatever her wild vagaries, or +unreasonable moods, she somehow or other always managed to be first. +First in play, first in naughtiness, first at her lessons, the best +musician, the best artist, the best housekeeper, the best originator of +sports and frolics on all occasions, was Polly Maybright. From this +position, however, she was suddenly dethroned. It was quite impossible +for Polly to be first when Flower was in the room.</p> + +<p>Flower Dalrymple had the ways and manners of a young queen. She was +imperious, often ungracious, seldom obliging, but she had a knack of +getting people to think first of her, of saying the sort of things which +drew attention, and of putting every other little girl with whom she +came into contact completely in the shade.</p> + +<p>In reality, Polly was a prettier girl than Flower. Her eyes were +brighter, her features more regular. But just as much in reality Polly +could not hold a candle to Flower, for she had a sort of a languorous, +slumberous, grace, which exactly suited her name; there was a kind of +etherealness about her, an absolutely out-of-the-common look, which made +people glance at her again and again, each time to discover how very +lovely she was.</p> + +<p>Flower was a perfect contrast to David, being as fair as he was dark. +Her face had a delicate, creamy shade, her eyes were large and light +blue, the lashes and eyebrows being only a shade or two darker than her +long, straight rather dull-looking, yellow hair. She always wore her +hair straight down her back; she was very willowy and pliant in figure, +and had something of the grace and coloring of a daffodil.</p> + +<p>Flower had not been a week in the Maybright family before she contrived +that all the arrangements in the house should be more or less altered to +suit her convenience. She made no apparent complaint, and never put her +wishes into words, still she contrived to have things done to please +her. For instance, long before that week was out, Polly found herself +deprived of the seat she had always occupied at meals by her father’s +side. Flower liked to sit near the Doctor, therefore she did so; she +liked to slip her hand into his between the courses, and to look into +his face with her wide-open, pathetic, sweet eyes. Flower could not +touch coffee at breakfast, therefore by common consent the whole family +adopted tea. In the morning-room Flower established herself in mother’s +deep arm-chair, hitherto consecrated by all rights and usages to Helen. +As to Polly, she was simply dethroned from her pedestal, her wittiest +remarks fell flat,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_87' id='Page_87'>[Pg 87]</a></span> her raciest stories were received with languid +interest. What were they compared to the thrilling adventures which the +young Australian could tell when she pleased! Not, indeed, that Flower +often pleased, she was not given to many words, her nature was +thoroughly indolent and selfish, and only for one person would she ever +really rouse and exert herself. This person was David; he worshipped +her, and she loved him as deeply as it was in her nature to love any +one. To all appearance, however, it mattered very little who, or how +Flower loved. On all hands, every one fell in love with her. Even Polly +resigned her favorite seat for her, even Helen looked without pain at +mother’s beloved chair when Flower’s lissome figure filled it. The +younger children were forever offering flowers and fruit at her shrine. +Nurse declared her a bonny, winsome thing, and greatest honor of all, +allowed her to play with little Pearl, the baby, for a few minutes, when +the inclination seized her. Before she was a week in the house, not a +servant in the place but would have done anything for her, and even the +Doctor so far succumbed to her charms as to pronounce her a gracious and +lovable creature.</p> + +<p>“Although I can’t make her out,” he often said to himself, “I have an +odd instinct which tells me that there is the sleeping lioness or the +wild-cat hidden somewhere beneath all that languid, gracious +carelessness. Poor little girl! she has managed to captivate us all, but +I should not be surprised if she turned out more difficult and +troublesome to manage than the whole of my seven daughters put +together.”</p> + +<p>As Flower and David had been sent from Australia especially to be under +the care and guidance of Mrs. Maybright, the Doctor felt more and more +uncertain as to the expediency of keeping the children.</p> + +<p>“It is difficult enough to manage a girl like Polly,” he said to +himself; “but when another girl comes to the house who is equally +audacious and untamed—for my Polly is an untamed creature when all’s +said and done—how is a poor half-blind old doctor like myself to keep +these two turbulent spirits in order? I am dreadfully afraid the +experiment won’t work; and yet—and yet £400 a year is sadly needed to +add to the family purse just now.”</p> + +<p>The Doctor was pacing up and down his library while he meditated. The +carpet in this part of the room was quite worn from the many times he +walked up and down it. Like many another man, when he was perplexed or +anxious he could not keep still. There came a light tap at the library +door.</p> + +<p>“Come in!” said the Doctor; and to his surprise Flower, looking more +like a tall yellow daffodil than ever, in a soft dress of creamy Indian +silk, opened the door and took a step or two into the room.</p> + +<p>She looked half-shy, half-bold—a word would have sent<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_88' id='Page_88'>[Pg 88]</a></span> her flying, or a +word drawn her close to the kind Doctor’s side.</p> + +<p>“Come here, my little girl,” he said, “and tell me what you want.”</p> + +<p>Flower would have hated any one else to speak of her as a little girl, +but she pushed back her hair now, and looked with less hesitation and +more longing at the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“I thought you’d be here—I ventured to come,” she said.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; there’s no venturing in the matter. Take my arm, and walk up +and down with me.”</p> + +<p>“May I, really?”</p> + +<p>“Of course you may, puss. Now I’ll warrant anything you have walked many +a carpet bare with your own father. See! this is almost in holes; those +are Polly’s steps, these are mine.”</p> + +<p>“Oh—yes—well, father isn’t that sort of man. I’ll take your arm if I +may, Doctor. Thank you. I didn’t think—I don’t exactly know how to say +what I want to say.”</p> + +<p>“Take time, my dear child; and it is no matter how you put the words.”</p> + +<p>“When I heard that there was no mother here, I did not want to stay +long. That was before I knew you. Now—I came to say it—I do want to +stay, and so does David.”</p> + +<p>“But you don’t really know me at all, Flower.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps not really; but still enough to want to stay. May I stay?”</p> + +<p>Flower’s charming face looked up inquiringly.</p> + +<p>“May I stay?” she repeated, earnestly. “I do wish it!—very much +indeed.”</p> + +<p>Dr. Maybright was silent for a moment.</p> + +<p>“I was thinking about this very point when you knocked at the door,” he +said, presently. “I was wondering if you two children could stay. I want +to keep you, and yet I own I am rather fearful of the result. You see, +there are so many motherless girls and boys in this house.”</p> + +<p>“But we are motherless, too; you should be sorry for us; you should wish +to keep us.”</p> + +<p>“I am very sorry for you. I have grown to a certain extent already to +love you. You interest me much; still, I must be just to you and to my +own children. You are not a common, everyday sort of girl, Flower. I +don’t wish to flatter you, and I am not going to say whether you are +nice or the reverse. But there is no harm in my telling you that you are +out of the common. It is probable that you may be extremely difficult to +manage, and it is possible that your disposition may—may clash with +those of some of the members of my own household. I don’t say that this +will be the case, mind, only it is possible. In that case, what would +you expect me to do?”</p> + +<p>“To keep me,” said Flower, boldly, “and, if necessary, send away the +member of the household, for I am a motherless girl, and I have come +from a long way off to be with you.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_89' id='Page_89'>[Pg 89]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I don’t quite think I can do that, Flower. There are many good mothers +in England who would train you and love you, and there are many homes +where you might do better than here. My own children are placed here by +God himself, and I cannot turn them out. Still—what is the matter, my +dear child?”</p> + +<p>“I think you are unjust; I thought you would be so glad when I said I +wanted to stay.”</p> + +<p>“So I am glad; and for the present you are here. How long you remain +depends on yourself. I have no intention of sending you away at present. +I earnestly wish to keep you.”</p> + +<p>Another tap came to the study door.</p> + +<p>“If you please, sir,” said Alice, “blind Mrs. Jones is in the kitchen, +and wants to know most particular if she can see you.”</p> + +<p>“How ridiculous!” said Flower, laughing.</p> + +<p>“Show Mrs. Jones in here, Alice,” said the Doctor.</p> + +<p>His own face had grown a shade or two paler.</p> + +<p>“Blind people often speak in that way, Flower,” he said, with a certain +intonation in his voice which made her regard him earnestly.</p> + +<p>The memory of a rumor which had reached her ears with regard to the +Doctor’s own sight flashed before her. She stooped suddenly, and with an +impulsive, passionate gesture kissed his hand.</p> + +<p>Outside the room David was waiting.</p> + +<p>“Well, Flower, well?” he asked, with intense eagerness.</p> + +<p>“I spoke to him,” said Flower. “We are here on sufferance, that’s all. +He is the dearest man in all the world, but he is actually afraid of +me.”</p> + +<p>“You are rather fierce at times, you know, Flower. Did you tell him +about—about——”</p> + +<p>“About what, silly boy?”</p> + +<p>“About the passions. You know, Flower, we agreed that he had better +know.”</p> + +<p>A queer steely light came into Flower’s blue eyes.</p> + +<p>“I didn’t speak of them,” she said. “If I said anything of that sort I’d +soon be packed away. I expect he’s in an awful fright about that +precious Polly of his.”</p> + +<p>“But Polly is nice,” interposed David.</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, just because she has a rather good-looking face you go over to +her side. I’m not at all sure that I like her. Anyhow, I’m not going to +play second fiddle to her. There now, Dave, go and play. We’re here on +sufferance, so be on your good behavior. As to me, you need not be the +least uneasy. I wish to remain at Sleepy Hollow, so, of course, the +passions won’t come. Go and play, Dave.”</p> + +<p>Firefly called across the lawn. David bounded out of the open window, +and Flower went slowly up to her own room.</p> + +<p>There came a lovely day toward the end of October; St. Martin’s summer +was abroad, and the children, with the Doctor’s<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_90' id='Page_90'>[Pg 90]</a></span> permission, had +arranged to take a long expedition across one of the southern moors in +search of late blackberries. They took their dinner with them, and +George, the under-gardener, accompanied the little party for protection. +Nurse elected, as usual, to stay at home with baby, for nothing would +induce her to allow this treasured little mortal out of her own keeping; +but the Doctor promised, if possible, to join the children at Troublous +Times Castle at two o’clock for dinner. This old ruin was at the extreme +corner of one of the great commons, and was a very favorite resort for +picnics, as it still contained the remains of a fine old +banqueting-hall, where in stormy or uncertain weather a certain amount +of shelter could be secured.</p> + +<p>The children started off early, in capital spirits. A light wind was +blowing; the sky was almost cloudless. The tints of late autumn were +still abroad in great glory, and the young faces looked fresh, careless, +and happy.</p> + +<p>Just at the last moment, as they were leaving the house, an idea darted +through Polly’s brain.</p> + +<p>“Let’s have Maggie,” she said. “I’ll go round by the village and fetch +her. She would enjoy coming with us so much, and it would take off her +terror of the moor. Do you know, Helen, she is such a silly thing that +she has been quite in a state of alarm ever since the day we went to the +hermit’s hut. I won’t be a moment running to fetch Mag; do let’s have +her. Firefly, you can come with me.”</p> + +<p>Maggie, who now resided with her mother, not having yet found another +situation—for Mrs. Power had absolutely declined to have her back in +the kitchen—was a favorite with all the children. They were pleased +with Polly’s proposal, and a chorus of “Yes, by all means, let’s have +Maggie!” rose in the air.</p> + +<p>Flower was standing a little apart; she wore a dark green close-fitting +cloth dress; on her graceful golden head was a small green velvet cap. +She was picking a late rose to pieces, and waiting for the others with a +look of languid indifference on her face. Now she roused herself, and +asked in a slightly weary voice:</p> + +<p>“Who is Maggie?”</p> + +<p>“Maggie?” responded Helen, “she was our kitchenmaid; we are all very +fond of her—Polly especially.”</p> + +<p>“Fond of a kitchen-maid? I don’t suppose you mean that, Helen,” said +Flower. “A kitchen-maid’s only a servant.”</p> + +<p>“I certainly mean it,” said Helen, with a little warmth. “I am more or +less fond of all our servants, and Maggie used to be a special +favorite.”</p> + +<p>“How extraordinary!” said Flower. “The English nation have very queer +and plebeian ways about them; it’s very plebeian to take the least +notice of servants, except to order them to obey you.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary,” retorted Polly; “it’s the sign of a true<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_91' id='Page_91'>[Pg 91]</a></span> lady or +gentleman to be perfectly courteous to their dependents, and if they +deserve love, to give it to them. I’m fond of Maggie; she’s a good +little girl, and she shall come to our picnic. Come along, Firefly.”</p> + +<p>“I certainly will have nothing to say to Polly while she associates with +a servant,” said Flower, slowly, and with great apparent calmness. “I +don’t suppose we need all wait for her here. She can follow with the +servant when she gets her. I suppose Polly’s whims are not to upset the +whole party.”</p> + +<p>“Polly will very likely catch us up at the cross-roads,” said Helen, in +a pleasant voice. “Come, Flower, you won’t really be troubled with poor +little Maggie; she will spend her day probably with George, and will +help him to wash up our dinner-things after we have eaten. Come, don’t +be vexed, Flower.”</p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> vexed!” said Flower. “You are quite mistaken. I don’t intend to +have anything to say to Polly while she chooses a kitchen-maid for her +friend, but I dare say the rest of you can entertain me. Now, Mabel and +Dolly, shall I tell you what we did that dark night when David and I +stole out through the pantry window?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, yes!” exclaimed the twins. The others all clustered round +eagerly.</p> + +<p>Flower had a very distinct voice, and when she roused herself she could +really be eloquent. A daring little adventure which she and her brother +had experienced lost nothing in the telling, and when Polly, Firefly, +and Maggie, joined the group, they found themselves taken very little +notice of, for all the other children, even Helen, were hanging on +Flower’s words.</p> + +<p>“Oh, I say, that isn’t fair!” exclaimed Polly, whose spirits were +excellent. “You’re telling a story, Flower, and Firefly and I have +missed it. Maggie loves stories, too; don’t you, Mag? Do begin again, +please, Flower, please do!”</p> + +<p>Flower did not even pretend to hear Polly’s words—she walked straight +on, gesticulating a little now and then, now and then raising her hand +in a slightly dramatic manner. Her clear voice floated back to Polly as +she walked forward, the center of an eager, worshipping, entranced +audience.</p> + +<p>Polly’s own temper was rather hasty, she felt her face flushing, angry +words were bubbling to her lips, and she would have flown after the +little party who were so utterly ignoring her, if David had not suddenly +slipped back and put his hand on her arm.</p> + +<p>“I know the story,” he said; “so I needn’t stay to listen. She’s adding +to it awfully. We didn’t use any ropes, the window is only three feet +from the ground, and the awful howling and barking of the mastiff was +made by the shabbiest little cur. Flower is lovely, but she does dress +up her stories. I love Flower, but I’ll walk with you now, if you’ll let +me, Polly.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_92' id='Page_92'>[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You’re very kind, David,” said Polly. “But I don’t know that I want any +one to walk with me, except Maggie. I think Flower was very rude just +now. Oh, you can stay if you like, David—I don’t mind, one way or +another. Isn’t this south moor lovely, Maggie? Aren’t you glad I asked +you to come with us?”</p> + +<p>“Well, yes, Miss, I be. It was good-natured of you, Miss Polly, only if +there’s stories a-going, I’d like to be in at them. I does love +narrations of outlandish places, Miss. Oh, my word, and is that the +little foreign gentleman? It is a disappointment as I can’t ’ear what +the young lady’s a-telling of.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Maggie, you needn’t be discontented. <i>I</i> am not hearing this +wonderful story, either. David, what are you nudging me for?”</p> + +<p>“Send her to walk with George,” whispered David. “I want to say +something to you so badly, Polly.”</p> + +<p>Polly frowned. She did not feel particularly inclined to oblige any one +just now, but David had a pleading way of his own; he squeezed her arm +affectionately, and looked into her face with a world of beseeching in +his big black eyes. After all it was no very difficult matter to get at +Polly’s warm heart. She looked over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“George, will you give Maggie a seat beside you,” she said. “No, none of +the rest of us want to drive. Come on, David. Now, David, what is it?”</p> + +<p>“It’s about Flower,” said David. “She—she—you don’t none of you know +Flower yet.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I am not sure of that,” replied Polly, speaking on purpose in a +very careless tone. “I suppose she’s much like other girls. She’s rather +pretty, of course, and has nice ways with her. I made stories about you +both, but you’re not a bit like anything I thought of. In some ways +you’re nicer, in some not so nice. Why, what is the matter, David? What +are you staring at me so hard for?”</p> + +<p>“Because you’re all wrong,” responded David. “You don’t know Flower. +She’s not like other girls; not a bit. There were girls at Ballarat, and +she wasn’t like them. But no one wondered at that, for they were rough, +and not like real ladies. And there were girls on board the big ship we +came over in, and they weren’t rough, but Flower wasn’t a bit like them +either. And she’s not like any of you, Polly, although I’m sure you are +nice, and Helen is sweet, and Fly is a little brick. Flower is not like +any other girl I have ever seen.”</p> + +<p>“She must be an oddity, then,” said Polly. “I hate oddities. Do let’s +walk a little faster, David.”</p> + +<p>“You are wrong again,” persisted David, quickening his steps. “An oddity +is some one to laugh at, but no one has ever dreamed of laughing at +Flower. She is just herself, like no one else in the world. No, you +don’t any of you know her yet. I suppose you are every one of you +thinking<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_93' id='Page_93'>[Pg 93]</a></span> that she’s the very nicest and cleverest and perfectest girl +you ever met?”</p> + +<p>“I’m sure we are not,” said Polly. “I think, for my part, there has been +a great deal too much fuss made about her. I’m getting tired of her +airs, and I think she was very rude just now.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t, Polly, you frighten me. I want to tell you something so +badly. Will you treat it as a great, enormous secret? will you never +reveal it, Polly?”</p> + +<p>“What a queer boy you are,” said Polly. “No, I won’t tell. What’s the +mystery?”</p> + +<p>“It’s this. Flower is sometimes—sometimes—oh, it’s dreadful to have to +tell!—Flower is sometimes not nice.”</p> + +<p>Polly’s eyes danced.</p> + +<p>“You’re a darling, David!” she said. “Of course, that sister of yours is +not perfect. I’d hate her if she was.”</p> + +<p>“But it isn’t that,” said David. “It’s so difficult to tell. When Flower +isn’t nice, it’s not a small thing, it’s—oh, she’s awful! Polly, I +don’t want any of you ever to see Flower in a passion; you’d be +frightened, oh, you would indeed. We were all dreadfully unhappy at +Ballarat when Flower was in a passion, and lately we tried not to get +her into one. That’s what I want you to do, Polly; I want you to try; I +want you to see that she is not vexed.”</p> + +<p>“I like that,” said Polly. “Am I to be on my ‘P’s and Q’s’ for this Miss +Flower of yours? Now, David, what do you mean by a great passion? I’m +rather hot myself. Come, you saw me very cross about the lemonade +yesterday; is Flower worse than that? What fun it must be to see her!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t!” said David, turning pale. “You wouldn’t speak in that way, +Polly, if you knew. What you did yesterday like Flower? Why, I didn’t +notice you at all. Flower’s passions are—are—— But I can’t speak of +them, Polly.”</p> + +<p>“Then why did you tell me?” said Polly. “I can’t help her getting into +rages, if she’s so silly.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, you can, and that’s why I spoke to you. She’s a little vexed +now, about your having brought the—the kitchen-maid here. I know well +she’s vexed, because she’s extra polite with every one else. That’s a +way she has at first. I don’t suppose she’ll speak to you, Polly; but +oh, Polly, I will love you so much, I’ll do anything in all the world +for you, if only you’ll send Maggie home!”</p> + +<p>“What are you dreaming of?” said Polly. “Because Flower is an ill +tempered, proud, silly girl, am I to send poor little Maggie away? No, +David, if your sister has a bad temper, she must learn to control it. +She is living in England now, and she must put up with our English ways; +we are always kind to our servants.”</p> + +<p>“Then it can’t be helped,” said David. “You’ll remember that I warned +you—you’ll be sorry afterwards! Hullo, Flower—yes, Flower, I’m +coming.”</p> + +<p>He flew from Polly’s side, going boldly over to what the little girl +was now pleased to call the ranks of the enemy. She felt sorry for a +moment, for Firefly had long since deserted her. Then she retraced her +steps, and walked by Maggie’s side for the rest of the time.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r3923' id='r3923'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_94' id='Page_94'>[Pg 94]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2><h3>NOT LIKE OTHERS.</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was still early when the children reached Troublous Times Castle. Dr. +Maybright would not be likely to join them for nearly an hour. They had +walked fast, and Polly, at least, felt both tired and cross. When the +twins ran up to her and assured her with much enthusiasm that they had +never had a more delightful walk, she turned from them with a little +muttered “Pshaw!” Polly’s attentions now to Maggie were most marked, and +if this young person were not quite one of the most obtuse in existence, +it is possible she might have felt slightly embarrassed.</p> + +<p>“While we’re waiting for father,” exclaimed Polly, speaking aloud, and +in that aggressive tone which had not been heard from her lips since the +night of the supper in the attic—“while we’re waiting for father we’ll +get the banqueting-hall ready. Maggie and I will see to this, but any +one who likes to join us can. We don’t require any assistance, but if it +gives pleasure to any of the others to see us unpack the baskets, now is +the time for them to say the word.”</p> + +<p>“But, of course, we’re all going to get the dinner ready,” exclaimed +Dolly and Katie, in voices of consternation. “What a ridiculous way you +are talking, Polly! This is all our affair; half the fun is getting the +dinner ready. Isn’t it, Nell?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course,” said Helen, in her pleasant, bright voice. “We’ll all +do as much as we can do to make the banqueting-hall ready for father. +Now, let’s get George to take the hampers there at once; and, Flower, I +thought, perhaps, you would help me to touch up the creepers here and +there, they do look so lovely falling over that ruined west window. +Come, Flower, now let’s all of us set to work without any more delay.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Flower, and you know you have such a way of making things look +sweet,” said David, taking his sister’s hand and kissing it.</p> + +<p>She put her arm carelessly round his neck, stooped down, and pressed her +lips to his brow, then said in that light, arch tone, which she had used +all day, “David is mistaken. I can’t make things look sweet, and I’m not +coming to the banqueting-hall at present.”</p> + +<p>There was a pointed satire in the two last words. Flower’s big blue eyes +rested carelessly on Maggie, then they traveled to where Polly stood, +and a fine scorn curled her short, sensitive upper lip. The words she +had used were nothing, but<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_95' id='Page_95'>[Pg 95]</a></span> her expressive glance meant a good deal. +Polly refused to see the world of entreaty on David’s face—she threw +down her challenge with equal scorn and a good deal of comic dignity.</p> + +<p>“It’s a very good thing, then, you’re not coming to the banqueting-hall, +Flower,” she said. “For we don’t want people there who have no taste. I +suppose it’s because you are an Australian, for in England even the +cottagers know a little about how to make picnics look pretty. Maggie is +a cottager at present, as she’s out of a situation, so it’s lucky we’ve +brought her. Now, as every one else wants to come, let them, and don’t +let’s waste any more time, or when father comes, we really will have +nothing ready for him to eat.”</p> + +<p>“Very well,” said Flower. “Then I shall take a walk by myself. I wish to +be by myself. No, David you are not to come with me, I forbid it.”</p> + +<p>For a quarter of a second a queer steely light filled her blue eyes. +David shrank from her glance, and followed the rest of the party down a +flight of steps which led also into the old banqueting-hall.</p> + +<p>“You’ve done it now,” he whispered to Polly. “You’ll be very, very sorry +by-and-by, and you’ll remember then that I warned you.”</p> + +<p>“I really think you’re the most tiresome boy,” said Polly. “You want to +make mysteries out of nothing. I don’t see that Flower is particularly +passionate; she’s a little bit sarcastic, and she likes to say nasty, +scathing things, but you don’t suppose I mind her! She’ll soon come to +her senses when she sees that we are none of us petting her, or bowing +down to her. I expect that you and your father have spoiled that Flower +of yours over in Ballarat.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t know Flower a bit,” responded David. “I warned you. You’ll +remember that presently. Flower not passionate! Why, she was white with +passion when she went away. Well, you wait and see.”</p> + +<p>“I wish you’d stop talking,” responded Polly, crossly. “We’ll never have +things ready if you chatter so, and try to perplex me. There’s poor Fly +almost crying over that big hamper. Please, David, go and help her to +get the knives, and forks, and glasses out, and don’t break any glasses, +for we’re always fined if we break glasses at picnics.”</p> + +<p>David moved away slowly. He was an active little fellow as a rule, but +now there seemed to be a weight over him. The vivaciousness had left his +handsome dark little face; once he turned round and looked at Polly with +a volume of reproach in his eyes.</p> + +<p>She would not meet his eyes, she was bending over her own hamper, and +was laughing and chatting gayly with every one who came within her +reach. The moment Flower’s influence was removed Polly became once more +the ringleader of all the fun. Once more she was appealed to, her advice +asked, her directions followed. She could not help<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_96' id='Page_96'>[Pg 96]</a></span> admitting to herself +that she liked the change, and for the first time a conscious feeling of +active dislike to Flower took possession of her. What right had this +strange girl to come and take the lead in everything? No, she was +neither very pretty nor very agreeable; she was a conceited, +ill-tempered, proud creature, and it was Polly’s duty, of course it was +Polly’s duty, to see that she was not humored. Was there anything so +unreasonable and monstrous as her dislike to poor little Maggie? Poor +little harmless Maggie, who had never done her an ill-turn in her life. +Really David had been too absurd when he proposed that Maggie should be +sent home. David was a nice boy enough, but he was not to suppose that +every one was to bow down to his Queen Flower. Ridiculous! let her go +into passions if she liked, she would soon be tamed and brought to her +senses when she had been long enough in England.</p> + +<p>Polly worked herself up into quite a genuine little temper of her own, +as she thought, and she now resolved, simply and solely for the purpose +of teasing Flower, that Maggie should dine with them all, and have a +seat of honor near herself. When she had carelessly thought of her +coming to the picnic, she, of course, like all the others, had intended +that Maggie and George should eat their dinner together after the great +meal was over; and even Helen shook her head now when Polly proposed in +her bright audacious way that Maggie should sit near her, in one of the +best positions, where she could see the light flickering through the +ivy, which nearly covered the beautiful west window.</p> + +<p>“As you like, of course, Polly,” responded Helen. “But I do think it is +putting Maggie a little out of her place. Perhaps father won’t like it, +and I’m sure Flower won’t.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll ask father myself, when he arrives,” answered Polly, choosing to +ignore the latter part of Helen’s speech.</p> + +<p>The banqueting-hall, which was a perfect ruin at one end, was still +covered over at the other. And it was in this portion, full of +picturesque half-lights and fascinating dark corners, that the children +had laid out their repast. The west window was more than fifty feet +distant. It was nearly closed in with an exquisite tracery of ivy; but +as plenty of light poured into the ruin from the open sky overhead, this +mattered very little, and but added to the general effect. The whole +little party were very busy, and no one worked harder than Polly, and no +one’s laugh was more merry. Now and then, it is true, an odd memory and +a queer sensation of failure came over her. Was she really—really +to-day, at least—trying to climb successfully the highest mountain? She +stifled the little voice speaking in her heart, delighted her brothers +and sisters, and even caused a smile to play round David’s grave lips as +she made one witty remark after another. Firefly in particular was in +ecstasies with her beloved sister, and when the Doctor at last appeared +on the scene the fun was at its height.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_97' id='Page_97'>[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>The moment he entered the banqueting-hall Polly went up to him, put on +her archest and most pleading expression, and said in a tone of inquiry:</p> + +<p>“It’s all so delightful, and such a treat for her. And you don’t mind, +do you father?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know that I mind anything at this moment, Polly, for I am +hungry, and your viands look tempting of the tempting. Unless you bid me +not to come to the feast, I shall quarrel with no other suggestion.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! you darlingest of fathers; then you won’t be angry if poor Maggie +sits next me; and has her dinner with us? She is a little afraid of the +moor, and I wanted to cure her, so I brought her to-day, and she will be +so happy if she can sit next me at dinner.”</p> + +<p>“Put her where you please, my dear; we are not sitting on forms or +standing on ceremony at present. And now to dinner, to dinner, children, +for I must be off again in an hour.”</p> + +<p>No one noticed, not even David, that while the Doctor was speaking a +shadow stole up and remained motionless by the crumbling stairs of the +old banqueting-hall; no one either saw when it glided away. Polly +laughed, and almost shouted; every one, Flower excepted, took their +places as best they could on the uneven floor of the hall; the white +tablecloth was spread neatly in the middle. Every one present was +exceedingly uncomfortable physically, and yet each person expressed him +or herself in tones of rapture, and said never was such food eaten, or +such a delightful dinner served.</p> + +<p>For a long time Flower was not even missed; then David’s grave face +attracted the Doctor’s attention.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter, my lad?” he said. “Have you a headache? Don’t you +enjoy this <i>al fresco</i> sort of entertainment? And, by the way, I don’t +see your sister. Helen, my dear, do you know where Flower is? Did not +she come with you?”</p> + +<p>“Of course she did, father; how stupid and careless of me never to have +missed her.”</p> + +<p>Helen jumped up from the tailor-like position she was occupying on the +floor.</p> + +<p>“Flower said she would take a little walk,” she continued. “And I must +say I forgot all about her. She ought to have been back ages ago.”</p> + +<p>“Flower went by herself for a walk on the moor!” echoed the Doctor. “But +that isn’t safe; she may lose her way, or get frightened. Why did you +let her go, children?”</p> + +<p>No one answered; a little cloud seemed to have fallen on the merry +party. Polly again had a pinprick of uneasiness in her heart, and a +vivid recollection of the highest mountain which she was certainly not +trying to climb.</p> + +<p>The Doctor said he would go at once to look for Flower.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r2773' id='r2773'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_98' id='Page_98'>[Pg 98]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2><h3>A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN.</h3> +</div> + +<p>David was quite right when he said his sister was not like other girls. +There was a certain element of wildness in her; she had sweet manners, a +gracious bearing, an attractive face; but in some particulars she was +untamed. Never had that terrible strong temper of hers been curbed. More +than one of the servants in the old home at Ballarat had learnt to dread +it. When Flower stormed, her father invariably left home, and David shut +himself up in his own room. Her mother, an affectionate but not +particularly strong-minded woman, alone possessed sufficient courage to +approach the storm-tossed little fury. Mrs. Dalrymple had a certain +power of soothing the little girl, but even she never attempted to teach +the child the smallest lessons of self-control.</p> + +<p>This unchecked, unbridled temper grew and strengthened with Flower’s +growth. When under its influence she was a transformed being, and David +had good reason to be afraid of her.</p> + +<p>In addition to an ungovernable temper, Flower was proud; she possessed +the greatest pride of all, that of absolute ignorance. She believed +firmly in caste; had she lived in olden days in America, she would have +been a very cruel mistress of slaves. Yet with it all Flower had an +affectionate heart; she was generous, loyal, but she was so thoroughly a +spoiled and untrained creature that her good qualities were nearly lost +under the stronger sway of her bad ones.</p> + +<p>After her mother’s death Flower had fretted so much that she had grown +shadowy and ill. It was then her father conceived the idea of sending +her and David to an English family to train and educate. He could not +manage Flower, he could not educate David. The Maybrights were heard of +through a mutual friend, and Flower was reconciled to the thought of +leaving the land and home of her birth because she was told she was +going to another mother. She dried her eyes at this thought, and was +tolerably cheerful during the voyage over. On reaching England the news +of Mrs. Maybright’s death was broken to her. Again Flower stormed and +raged; she gave poor little David a dreadful night, but in the morning +her tears were dried, her smile had returned, and she went down to +Sleepy Hollow with the Doctor in fairly good spirits.</p> + +<p>The young Maybrights were all on their best behavior—Flower was on +hers, and until the day of the picnic all went well.</p> + +<p>It did not take a great deal to rouse first the obstinate pride of this +young Australian, and then her unbridled passions. Associate with a +servant? No, that she would never, never do. Show Polly that she +approved of her conduct?<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_99' id='Page_99'>[Pg 99]</a></span> Not while her own name was Flower Dalrymple. +She let all the other happy children go down to the banqueting-hall +without her, and strode away, miserable at heart, choking with rage and +fury.</p> + +<p>The Dalrymples were very wealthy people, and Flower’s home in Ballarat +was furnished with every luxury. Notwithstanding this, the little girl +had never been in a truly refined dwelling-house until she took up her +abode in old-fashioned Sleepy Hollow. Flower had taken a great fancy to +Helen, and she already warmly loved Dr. Maybright. She was wandering +over the moor now, a miserable, storm-tossed little personage, when she +saw his old-fashioned gig and white pony “Rowney” approaching. That old +gig and the person who sat in it—for Dr. Maybright drove himself—began +to act on the heart of the child with a curious magnetic force. Step by +step they caused her to turn, until she reached Troublous Times Castle +almost as soon as the Doctor. She did not know why she was coming back, +for she had not the remotest idea of yielding her will to Polly’s. Still +she had a kind of instinct that the Doctor would set things right. By +this she meant that he would give her her own way and banish Maggie from +the scene of festivity.</p> + +<p>The banqueting-hall at the old castle could be reached by two ways: you +might approach it quite easily over the green sward, or you might enter +a higher part of the castle, and come to it down broken steps.</p> + +<p>The Doctor chose one way of approaching the scene of the feast, Flower +another. She was about to descend when she heard voices: Polly was +eagerly asking permission for Maggie to dine with them; the Doctor, in +his easy, genial tones, was giving it to her. That was enough. If Flower +had never known before what absolute hatred was like, she knew it now. +She hated Polly; ungovernable passion mounted to her brain, filled her +eyes, lent wings to her feet; she turned and fled.</p> + +<p>Although the month was October, it was still very hot in the middle of +the day on the open moor. Flower, however, was accustomed to great heat +in her native home, and the full rays of the sun did not impede her +flight. She was so tall and slight and willowy that she was a splendid +runner, but the moor was broken and rough, interspersed here and there +with deep bracken, here and there with heather, here and there again +with rank clumps of undergrowth. The young girl, half blinded with rage +and passion, did not see the sharp points of the rocks or the brambles +in her path. Once or twice she fell. After her second fall she was so +much bruised and hurt, that she was absolutely forced to sit still in +the midst of the yellow-and-brown bracken. It was in a bristling, +withered state, but it still stood thick and high, and formed a kind of +screen all round Flower as she sat in it. She took off her cap, and idly +fanned her hot face with it; her yellow head could scarcely be +distinguished<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_100' id='Page_100'>[Pg 100]</a></span> from the orange-and-gold tints of the bracken which +surrounded her.</p> + +<p>In this way the Doctor, who was now anxiously looking for Flower, missed +her, for he drove slowly by, not a hundred yards from her hiding-place.</p> + +<p>As Flower sat and tried to cool herself, she began to reflect. Her +passion was not in the least over; on the contrary, its most dangerous +stage had now begun. As she thought, there grew up stronger and stronger +in her heart a great hatred for Polly. From the first, Flower had not +taken so warmly to Polly as she had done to Helen. The fact was, these +girls were in many ways too much alike. Had it been Polly’s fate to be +born and brought up in Ballarat, she might have been Flower over again. +She might have been even worse than Flower, for she was cleverer; on the +other hand, had Flower been trained by Polly’s wise and loving mother, +she might have been a better girl than Polly.</p> + +<p>As it was, however, these two must inevitably clash. They were like two +queen bees in the same hive; they each wanted the same place. It only +needed a trifle to bring Flower’s uneasy, latent feeling against Polly +to perfection. The occasion arose, the match had fired the easily +ignited fuel, and Flower sat now and wondered how she could best revenge +herself on Polly.</p> + +<p>After a time, stiff and limping, for she had hurt her ankle, she +recommenced her walk across the moor. She had not the least idea where +her steps were leading her. She was tired, her feet ached, and her great +rage had sufficiently cooled to make her remember distinctly that she +had eaten no dinner; still, she plodded on. From the time she had left +Troublous Times Castle she had not encountered an individual, but now, +as she stepped forward, a man suddenly arose from his lair in the grass +and confronted her. He was a black-eyed, unkempt, uncouth-looking +person, and any other girl would have been very much afraid of him. He +put his arms akimbo, a disagreeable smile crossed his face, and he +instantly placed himself in such a position as completely to bar the +girl’s path.</p> + +<p>An English girl would have turned pale at such an apparition in so +lonely a place, but Flower had seen bushmen in her day, and did not +perceive anything barbarous or outlandish in the man’s appearance.</p> + +<p>“I’m glad I’ve met you,” she said, in her clear dulcet voice, “for you +can tell me where I am. I want to get to Sleepy Hollow, Dr. Maybright’s +place—am I far away?”</p> + +<p>“Two miles, as the crow flies,” responded the man.</p> + +<p>“But I can’t go as the crow flies. What is the best way to walk? Can’t +you show me?”</p> + +<p>“No-a. I be sleepy. Have you got a coin about you, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“Money? No. I left my purse at home. I have not got a watch either, nor +a chain, but I have got a little ring. It<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_101' id='Page_101'>[Pg 101]</a></span> is very thin, but it is pure +gold, and I am fond of it. I will give it to you if you will take me the +very nearest way to Sleepy Hollow.”</p> + +<p>The man grinned again. “You <i>be</i> a girl!” he said, in a tone of +admiration. “Yes, I’ll take you; come.”</p> + +<p>He turned on his heel, shambled on in front, and Flower followed.</p> + +<p>In this manner the two walked for some time. Suddenly they mounted a +ridge, and then the man pointed to where the Doctor’s house stood, snug +in its own inclosure.</p> + +<p>“Thank you,” said Flower.</p> + +<p>She took a little twist of gold off her smallest finger, dropped it into +the man’s dirty, open palm, and began quickly to descend the ridge in +the direction of the Hollow. It was nearly three o’clock when she +entered the cool, wide entrance-hall. The house felt still and restful. +Flower acknowledged to herself that she was both tired and hungry, but +her main idea to revenge herself on Polly was stronger than either +fatigue or hunger. She walked into the dining-room, cut a thick slice +from a home-made loaf of bread, broke off a small piece to eat at once, +and put the rest into her pocket. A dish of apples stood near; she +helped herself to two, stowed them away with the bread in the capacious +pocket of her green cloth dress, and then looked around her. She had got +to Polly’s home, but how was she to accomplish her revenge? How strike +Polly through her most vulnerable point?</p> + +<p>She walked slowly upstairs, meditating as she went. Her own little +bower-like room stood open; she entered it. Polly’s hands had been +mainly instrumental in giving choice touches to this room; Polly’s +favorite blue vase stood filled with flowers on the dressing-table, and +a lovely photograph of the Sistine Madonna which belonged to Polly hung +over the mantelpiece. Flower did not look at any of these things. She +unlocked a small drawer in a dainty inlaid cabinet, which she had +brought with her from Ballarat, took out two magnificent diamond rings, +a little watch set with jewels, and a small purse, very dainty in +itself, but which only held a few shillings. She put all these treasures +into a small black velvet bag, fastened the bag round her neck by a +narrow gold chain, and then leaving her room, stood once more in a +contemplative attitude on the landing.</p> + +<p>She was ready now for flight herself, for when she had revenged herself +on Polly, she must certainly fly. But how should she accomplish her +revenge? what should she do? She thought hard. She knew she had but +little time, for the Doctor and the children might return at any moment.</p> + +<p>In the distance she heard the merry laugh of Polly’s little sister, +Pearl. Flower suddenly colored, her eyes brightened, and she said to +herself:</p> + +<p>“That is a good idea; I will go and have a talk with Nurse. I can find +out somehow from Nurse what Polly likes best.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_102' id='Page_102'>[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>She ran at once to the nurseries.</p> + +<p>“My dear Miss Flower,” exclaimed Nurse. “Why, wherever have you been, +Miss? I thought you was with the others. Well! you do look tired and +fagged.”</p> + +<p>“I have walked home,” said Flower, carelessly. “I didn’t care to be out +so long; picnics are nothing to me; I’m accustomed to that sort of thing +on a big scale at Ballarat, you know. I walked home, and then I thought +I’d have a chat with you, if you didn’t mind.”</p> + +<p>“For sure, dear. Sit you down in that easy chair, Miss Flower; and would +you like to hold baby for a bit? Isn’t she sweet to-day? I must say I +never saw a more knowing child for her age.”</p> + +<p>“She is very pretty,” said Flower, carelessly. “But I don’t think I’ll +hold her, Nurse. I’m not accustomed to babies, and I’m afraid she might +break or something. Do you know I never had a baby in my arms in my +life? I don’t remember David when he was tiny. No, I never saw anything +so young and soft and tiny as this little Pearl; she <i>is</i> very pretty.”</p> + +<p>“Eh, dear lamb,” said Nurse, squeezing the baby to her heart, “she’s the +very sweetest of the sweet. Now you surprise me, Miss Flower, for I’d +have said you’d be took up tremendous with babies, you has them winsome +ways. Why, look at the little dear, she’s laughing even now to see you. +She quite takes to you, Miss—the same as she does to Miss Polly.”</p> + +<p>“She takes to Polly, does she?” said Flower.</p> + +<p>“Take to her? I should say so, Miss; and as to Miss Polly, she just +worships baby. Two or three times a day she comes into the nursery, and +many and many a time she coaxes me to let her bathe her. The fact is, +Miss Flower, we was all in a dreadful taking about Miss Polly when her +mamma died. She was quite in a stunned sort of state, and it was baby +here brought her round. Ever since then our little Miss Pearl has been +first of all with Miss Polly.”</p> + +<p>“Give her to me,” said Flower, in a queer, changed voice. “I’ve altered +my mind—I’d like to hold her. See, is she not friendly? Yes, baby, kiss +me, baby, with your pretty mouth. Does she not coo—isn’t she perfect? +You are quite right, Nurse. I do like to hold her, very much indeed.”</p> + +<p>“I said she’d take to you, Miss,” said Nurse, in a gratified voice.</p> + +<p>“So she does, and I take to her. Nurse, I wonder if you’d do something +for me?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I will, my dear.”</p> + +<p>“I am so awfully hungry. Would you go down’ to the kitchen and choose a +nice little dinner for me?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll ring the bell, Miss Dalrymple. Alice shall bring it to you on a +tray here, if you’ve a mind to eat it in the nursery.”</p> + +<p>“But I do want you to choose something; do go yourself, and find +something dainty. Do, Nursie, please Nursie. I want to be spoiled a +little bit; no one ever spoils me now that my mamma is dead.”</p> + +<p>“Bless the child!” said good-natured and unsuspicious Nurse. “Of course +I’ll go, if you put it that way, Missy. Well, take care of baby, Miss +Flower. Don’t attempt to carry her; hold her steady with your arm firm +round her back. I’ll bring you your dinner in ten minutes at latest, +Miss.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r8525' id='r8525'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_103' id='Page_103'>[Pg 103]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2><h3>FORSAKEN.</h3> +</div> + +<p>The moment Nurse’s footsteps died away Flower sprang to her feet, +snatched up a white wool shawl, which lay over the baby’s cot, wrapped +it round her, and flew downstairs with the little creature in her arms.</p> + +<p>Out through a side door which stood open ran Flower, down by the +shrubbery, over the stile, and in a few moments she was out again on the +wide, wild, lonely moor with Polly’s pet pressed close to her beating +heart. Long before Nurse had returned to the nursery Flower had reached +the moor, and when poor, distracted Nurse discovered her loss, Flower +had wriggled herself into the middle of a clump of young oak-trees, and +was fondling and petting little Pearl, who sat upright on her knee. From +her hiding-place Flower could presently hear footsteps and voices, but +none of them came near her, and for the present baby was contented, and +did not cry. After a time the footsteps moved further off, and Flower +peeped from her shelter.</p> + +<p>“Now, baby, come on,” she said. She wrapped the shawl again firmly round +the little one, and started with a kind of trotting motion over the +outskirts of the moor. She was intensely excited, and her cheeks were +flushed with the first delicious glow of victory. Oh, how sorry Polly +would be now for having attempted to oppose her. Yes, Polly would know +now that Flower Dalrymple was not a person to be trifled with.</p> + +<p>She was really a strong girl, though she had a peculiarly fragile look. +The weight of the three months’ old baby was not very great, and for a +time she made quite rapid progress. After she had walked about a mile +she stood still to consider and to make her plans. No more ignorant girl +in all England could perhaps be found than this same poor silly, +revengeful Flower; but even she, with all her ideas Australian, and her +knowledge of English life and ways simply null and void, even she knew +that the baby could not live for a long time without food and shelter on +the wide common land which lay around. She did not mean to steal baby +for always, but she thought she would keep her for a month or two, until +Polly was well frightened and repentant, and then she would send her +back by some kind, motherly woman whom she was sure to come across. As +to herself, she had<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_104' id='Page_104'>[Pg 104]</a></span> fully made up her mind never again to enter the +doors of Sleepy Hollow, for it would be impossible for her, she felt, to +associate with any people who had sat down to dinner with the +kitchen-maid. Holding the baby firmly in her arms, Flower stood and +hesitated. The warm fleecy white shawl sheltered little Pearl from all +cold, and for the present she slept peacefully.</p> + +<p>“I must try and find some town,” thought Flower. “I must walk to some +town—the nearest, I suppose—with baby. Then I will sell one of my +rings, and try to get a nice woman to give me a lodging. If she is a +motherly person—and I shall certainly look out for some one that is—I +can give her little Pearl when I get tired of her, and she can take her +back to Sleepy Hollow. But I won’t give Pearl up for the present; for, +in the first place she amuses me, and in the next I wish Polly to be +well punished. Now I wonder which is the nearest way to the town? If I +were at Ballarat, I should know quickly enough by the sign-posts placed +at intervals all over the country, but they don’t seem to have anything +of the sort here in barbarous England. Now, how shall I get to the +nearest town without meeting any one who would be likely to tell Dr. +Maybright?”</p> + +<p>Flower had scarcely expressed herself in this fashion before once again +the rough-looking man crossed her path. She greeted him quite joyfully.</p> + +<p>“Oh! you’re just the person I want,” she exclaimed. “I’ve got my purse +now, and a little money in it. Would you like to earn a shilling?”</p> + +<p>“Sure-<i>ly</i>,” said the man. “But I’d a sight rather ’arn two,” he added.</p> + +<p>“I’ll give you two. I have not got much money, but I’ll certainly give +you two shillings if you’ll help me now. I have got a little baby +here—a dear little baby, but she’s rather heavy. I am running away with +her to revenge myself on somebody. I don’t mind telling you that, for +you look like an outlaw yourself, and you’ll sympathize with me. I want +you to carry baby for me, and to take us both to the nearest town. Do +you hear? Will you do it?”</p> + +<p>“Sure-<i>ly</i>,” said the man, favoring Flower with a long, peculiar glance.</p> + +<p>“Well, here’s baby; you must be very careful of her. I’ll give you +<i>three</i> shillings after you have taken her and me to the nearest town; +and if you are really kind, and walk quickly, and take us to a nice +restaurant where I can have a good dinner—for I am awfully hungry—you +shall have something to eat yourself as well. Now walk on in front of +me, please, and don’t waste any more time, for it would be dreadful if +we were discovered.”</p> + +<p>The man shambled on at once in front of Flower; his strong arms +supported little Pearl comfortably, and she slumbered on in an unbroken +dream.</p> + +<p>The bright sunlight had now faded, the short October day<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_105' id='Page_105'>[Pg 105]</a></span> was drawing +in, the glory and heat of the morning had long departed, and Flower, +whose green cloth dress was very light in texture, felt herself +shivering in the sudden cold.</p> + +<p>“Are you certain you are going to the nearest town?” she called out to +the man.</p> + +<p>“Sure-<i>ly</i>,” he responded back to her. He was stepping along at a +swinging pace, and Flower was very tired, and found it difficult to keep +up with him. Having begged of him so emphatically to hurry, she did not +like to ask him now to moderate his steps. To keep up with him at all +she had almost to run; and she was now not only hungry, cold, and tired, +but the constant quick motion took her breath away. They had left the +border of the moor, and were now in the middle of a most desolate piece +of country. As Flower looked around her she shivered with the first real +sensation of loneliness she had ever known. The moor seemed to fill the +whole horizon. Desolate moor and lowering sky—there seemed to be +nothing else in all the world.</p> + +<p>“Where is the nearest town?” she gasped at last. “Oh, what a long, long +way off it is!”</p> + +<p>“It’s miles away!” said the man, suddenly stopping and turning round +fiercely upon her; “but ef you’re hungry, there’s a hut yer to the left +where my mother lives. She’ll give you a bit of supper and a rest, ef so +be as you can pay her well.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, yes, I can pay her,” responded Flower. The thought of any shelter +or any food was grateful to the fastidious girl now.</p> + +<p>“I am very hungry and very tired,” she said. “I will gladly rest in your +mother’s cottage. Where is it?”</p> + +<p>“I said as it wor a hut. There are two dawgs there: be you afeard?”</p> + +<p>“Of <i>dogs</i>? I am not afraid of anything!” said Flower, curling her short +lip disdainfully.</p> + +<p>“You <i>be</i> a girl!” responded the man. He shambled on again in front, and +presently they came in sight of the deserted hermit’s hut, where Polly +and Maggie a few weeks before had been led captive. A woman was standing +in the doorway, and by her side, sitting up on their haunches, were two +ugly, lean-looking dogs.</p> + +<p>“Down, Cinder and Flinder!” said the woman. “Down you brutes! Now, +Patrick, what have you been up to? Whatever’s that in your arms, and +who’s a-follering of yer?”</p> + +<p>“This yer’s a babby,” said the man, “and this yer’s a girl. She,” +pointing to Flower, “wants to be took to the nearest town, and she have +money to pay, she says.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! she have money to pay?” said the wife of Micah Jones—for it was +she. “Them as has money to pay is oilers and oilers welcome. Come in, +and set you down by the fire, hinney. Well, well, and so you has brought +a babby with you! Give it to me, Pat. What do you know, you great +hulking feller! about the tending of babbies?”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_106' id='Page_106'>[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>The man gladly relinquished his charge, then pointed backwards with his +finger at Flower.</p> + +<p>“She’s cold and ’ungry, and she has money to pay,” he said.</p> + +<p>“Come in, then, Missy, come in; yer’s a good fire, and a hunk of cheese, +and some brown bread, and there’ll be soup by-and-by. Yes,” winking at +her son, “there’ll be good strong soup by-and-by.”</p> + +<p>Flower, who had come up close to the threshold of the hut, now drew back +a step or two. At sight of the woman her courage had revived, her +feeling of extreme loneliness had vanished, and a good deal of the +insolence which often marked her bearing had in consequence returned to +her.</p> + +<p>“I won’t go in,” she said. “It looks dirty in there and I hate dirt. No, +I won’t go in! Bring me some food out here, please. Of course I’ll pay +you.”</p> + +<p>“Highty-tighty!” said the woman. “And is wee babby to stay out in the +cold night air?”</p> + +<p>“I forgot about the baby,” said Flower. “Give her to me. Is the night +air bad for babies?” she asked, looking up inquiringly at the great +rough woman who stood by her side.</p> + +<p>Flower’s utter and fearless indifference to even the possibility of +danger had much the same effect on Mrs. Jones that it had upon her son. +They both owned to a latent feeling of uneasiness in her presence. Had +she showed the least trace of fear; had she dreaded them, or tried in +any way to soften them, they would have known how to manage her. But +Flower addressed them much as she would have done menials in her kitchen +at home. The mother, as well as the son, muttered under her +breath—“Never see’d such a gel!” She dropped the baby into Flower’s +outstretched arms, and answered her query in a less surly tone than +usual.</p> + +<p>“For sure night air is bad for babes, and this little ’un is young. Yes, +werry young and purty.”</p> + +<p>The woman pulled aside the white fluffy shawl; two soft clear brown eyes +looked up at her, and a little mouth was curved to a radiant smile.</p> + +<p>“Fore sure she’s purty,” said the woman. “Look, Patrick. She minds me +o’—well, never mind. Missy, it ain’t good for a babe like that to be +out in the night air. You’re best in the house, and so is the babe. The +dawgs shan’t touch yer. Come into the house, and I’ll give yer what +supper’s going, and the babe, pretty crittur, shall have a drink of +milk.”</p> + +<p>“I would not injure the baby,” said Flower. She held both arms firm +round it, and entered the smoky, dismal hut.</p> + +<p>The wife of Micah Jones moved a stool in front of the fire, pushed +Flower rather roughly down on it, and then proceeded to cut thick +hunches of sour bread and cheese. This was quite the coarsest food +Flower had ever eaten, and yet she never thought anything more +delicious. While she ate the woman sat down opposite her.</p> + +<p>“I’ll take the babe now and feed it,” she said. “The pretty dear must be +hungry.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_107' id='Page_107'>[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was not little Pearl’s way to cry. It was her fashion to look +tranquilly into all faces, and to take calmly every event, whether +adverse or otherwise. When she looked at Flower she smiled, and she +smiled again into the face of the rough woman who, in consequence, fed +her tenderly with the best she had to give.</p> + +<p>“Is the soup done?” said the rough man, suddenly coming forward. “It’s +soup I’m arter. It’s soup as’ll put life into Miss, and give her a mind +to walk them miles to the nearest town.”</p> + +<p>The woman laughed back at her son.</p> + +<p>“The soup’s in the pot,” she said. “You can give it a stir, Pat, if you +will. Nathaniel will be in by-and-by, and he’ll want his share. But you +can take a bowl now, if you like, and give one to Missy.”</p> + +<p>“Ay,” said the man, “soup’s good; puts life into a body.”</p> + +<p>He fetched two little yellow bowls filled one for Flower, stirring it +first with a pewter spoon.</p> + +<p>“This’ll put life into you, Miss,” he said.</p> + +<p>He handed the bowl of soup to the young girl. All this time the woman +was bending over the baby. Suddenly she raised her head.</p> + +<p>“’Tis a bonny babe,” she said. “Ef I was you, Pat, I wouldn’t stir +Missy’s soup. I’d give her your own bowl. I has no quarrel with Miss, +and the babe is fair. Give her your own soup, Patrick.”</p> + +<p>“It’s all right, mother, Miss wouldn’t eat as much as in my bowl. You +ain’t ’ungry enough for that, be you, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“I am very hungry,” said Flower, who was gratefully drinking the hot +liquid. “I could not touch this food if I was not <i>very</i> hungry. If I +want more soup I suppose I can have some more from the pot where this +was taken. What is the matter, woman? What are you staring at me for?”</p> + +<p>“I think nought at all of you,” said the woman, frowning, and drawing +back, for Flower’s tone was very rude. “But the babe is bonny. Here, +take her back, she’s like—but never mind. You’ll be sleepy, maybe, and +’ud like to rest a bit. I meant yer no harm, but Patrick’s powerful, and +he and Nat, they does what they likes. They’re the sons of Micah Jones, +and he was a strong man in his day. You’d like to sleep, maybe, Missy. +Here, Patrick, take the bowl from the girl’s hand.”</p> + +<p>“I do feel very drowsy,” said Flower. “I suppose it is from being out +all day. This hut is smoky and dirty, but I’ll just have a doze for five +minutes. Please, Patrick, wake me at the end of five minutes, for I +must, whatever happens, reach the nearest town before night.”</p> + +<p>As Flower spoke her eyes closed, and the woman, laying her back on some +straw, put the baby into her arms.</p> + +<p>“She’ll sleep sound, pretty dear,” she said. “Ef I was you I wouldn’t +harm her, just for the sake of the babe,” she concluded.</p> + +<p>“Why, mother, what’s took you? <i>I</i> won’t hurt Missy. It’s her own fault +ef she runs away, and steals the baby. That baby belongs to the doctor +what lives in the Hollow; it’s nought special, and you needn’t be took +up with it. Ah, here comes Nathaniel. Nat, I’ve found a lass wandering +on the moor, and I brought her home, and now the mother don’t want us to +share the booty.”</p> + +<p>Nathaniel Jones was a man of very few words indeed. He had a fiercer, +wilder eye than his brother, and his evidently was the dominant and +ruling spirit.</p> + +<p>“The moon’s rising,” he said; “she’ll be at her full in half an hour. Do +your dooty, mother, for we must be out of this, bag and baggage, in half +an hour.”</p> + +<p>Without a word or a sigh, or even a glance of remorse, Mrs. Jones took +the cap from Flower’s head, and feeling around her neck discovered the +gold chain which held the little bag of valuables. Without opening this +she slipped it into her pocket. Flower’s dainty shoes were then removed, +and the woman looked covetously at the long, fine, cloth dress, but +shook her head over it.</p> + +<p>“I’d wake her if I took it,” she said.</p> + +<p>“No, you wouldn’t, I drugged the soup well,” said Pat.</p> + +<p>“Well, anyhow, I’ll leave her her dress. There’s nought more but a +handkerchief with a bit of lace on it.”</p> + +<p>“Take the baby’s shawl,” said Nathaniel, “and let us be off. If the moon +goes down we won’t see the track. Here, mother, I’ll help myself to the +wrap.”</p> + +<p>“No, you won’t,” said the woman. “You don’t touch the babe with the pale +face and the smile of Heaven. I’m ready; let’s go.”</p> + +<p>The dogs were called, and the entire party strode in single file along a +narrow path, which led away in a westerly direction over Peg-Top Moor.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r5387' id='r5387'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_108' id='Page_108'>[Pg 108]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2><h3>WITHOUT HER TREASURE.</h3> +</div> + +<p>“There is a great fuss made about it all,” said Polly.</p> + +<p>This was her remark when her father left the pleasant picnic dinner and +drove away over the moor in search of Flower.</p> + +<p>“There is a great fuss made over it all. What is Flower more than any +other girl? Why should she rule us all, and try to make things +uncomfortable for us? No, David, you need not look at me like that. If +Flower has got silly Australian notions in her head, she had better get +rid of them as fast as possible. She is living with English people now, +and English people all the world over won’t put up with nonsense.”</p> + +<p>“It isn’t Flower’s ways I mean,” said David. “Her ways and her thoughts +aren’t much, but it’s—it’s when she gets<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_109' id='Page_109'>[Pg 109]</a></span> into a passion. There’s no +use talking about it—you have done it now, Polly!—but Flower’s +passions are awful.”</p> + +<p>David’s eyes filled slowly with tears.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you are a cry-baby,” said Polly. She knew she was making herself +disagreeable all round. In her heart she admired and even loved David; +but nothing would induce her to say she was sorry for any part she had +taken in Flower’s disappearance.</p> + +<p>“Everything is as tiresome as possible,” she said, addressing her +special ally, Maggie. “There, Mag, you need not stare at me. Your brain +will get as small as ever again if you don’t take care, and I know +staring in that stupid way you have is particularly weakening to the +brain. You had better help George to pack up, for I suppose Nell is +right, and we must all begin to think of getting home. Oh, dear, what a +worry it is to have to put up with the whims of other people. Yes, I +understand at last why father hesitated to allow the strangers to come +here.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t grumble any more, if I were you, Polly,” said Helen. “See +how miserable David looks. I do hope father will soon find Flower. I did +not know that David was so very fond of her.”</p> + +<p>“David is nervous,” retorted Polly, shortly. Then she turned to and +packed in a vigorous manner, and very soon after the little party +started on their return walk home. It was decidedly a dull walk. Polly’s +gay spirits were fitful and forced; the rest of the party did not +attempt to enjoy themselves. David lagged quite behind the others; and +poor Maggie confided to George that somehow or other, she could not tell +why, they were all turning their eyes reproachful-like on her. The sun +had gone in now in the heavens, and the children, who had no sunshine in +their hearts just then, had a vivid consciousness that it was late +autumn, and that the summer was quite at an end.</p> + +<p>As they neared the rise in the moor which hid Sleepy Hollow from view, +David suddenly changed his position from the rear to the van. As they +approached the house he stooped down, picked up a small piece of paper, +looked at it, uttered a cry of fear and recognition, and ran off as fast +as ever he could to the house.</p> + +<p>“What a queer boy David is!” was on Polly’s lips; but she could scarcely +say the words before he came out again. His face was deadly white, he +shook all over, and the words he tried to say only trembled on his lips.</p> + +<p>“What is it, David?” said the twins, running up to him.</p> + +<p>“She’ll believe me now,” said David.</p> + +<p>He panted violently, his teeth chattered.</p> + +<p>“Oh! David, you frighten us! What can be the matter? Polly, come here! +Nell, come and tell us what is the matter with David.”</p> + +<p>The elder girls, and the rest of the children, collected in the porch. +Polly, the tallest of all, looked over the heads of<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_110' id='Page_110'>[Pg 110]</a></span> the others. She +caught sight of David’s face, and a sudden pain, a queer sense of fear, +and the awakening of a late remorse, filled her breast.</p> + +<p>“What is it, David?” she asked, with the others; but her voice shook, +and was scarcely audible.</p> + +<p>“She’s done it!” said David. “The baby’s gone! It’s Flower! She was in +one of her passions, and she has taken the baby away. I said she wasn’t +like other girls. Nurse thinks perhaps the baby’ll die. What is it?—oh, +Polly! what is it!” For Polly had given one short scream, and, pushing +David and every one aside, rushed wildly into the house.</p> + +<p>She did not hear the others calling after her; she heard nothing but a +surging as of great waves in her ears, and David’s words echoing along +the passages and up the stairs “Perhaps the baby will die!” She did not +see her father, who held out his arms to detain her. She pushed Alice +aside without knowing that she touched her. In a twinkling she was at +the nursery door; in a twinkling she was kneeling by the empty cot, and +clasping the little frilled pillow on which baby’s head used to rest +passionately to her lips.</p> + +<p>“It’s true, then!” she gasped, at last. “I know now what David meant; I +know now why he warned me. Oh Nursie! Nursie! it’s my fault!”</p> + +<p>“No, no, my darling!” said Nurse; “it’s that dreadful young lady. But +she’ll bring her back. Sure, what else could she do, lovey? She’ll bring +the little one back, and, by the blessing of the good God, she’ll be +none the worse for this. Don’t take on so, Miss Polly! Don’t look like +that, dear! Why, your looks fairly scare me.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll be better in a minute,” said Polly. “This is no time for feelings. +I’ll be quiet in a minute. Have you got any cold water? There’s such a +horrid loud noise in my ears.”</p> + +<p>She rushed across the room, poured a quantity of water into a basin, and +laved her face and head.</p> + +<p>“Now I can think,” she said. “What did Flower do, Nurse? Tell me +everything; tell me in very few words, please, for there isn’t a +moment—there isn’t half a moment—to lose.”</p> + +<p>“It was this way, dear: she came into the room, and took baby into her +arms, and asked for some dinner. She didn’t seem no way taken with baby +at first, but when I told her how much you loved our little Miss Pearl, +she asked me to give her to her quite greedy-like, and ordered me to +fetch some dinner for herself, for she was starving, she said. I offered +that Alice should bring it; but no, she was all that I should choose +something as would tempt her appetite, and she coaxed with that pretty +way she have, and I went down to the kitchen myself to please her. I’ll +never forgive myself, never, to the longest day I live. I wasn’t ten +minutes gone, but when I come back with a nice little tray of curry, and +some custard pie, Miss Flower and the baby were away. That’s all—they +hasn’t been seen since.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_111' id='Page_111'>[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>“How long ago is that, Nurse?”</p> + +<p>“I couldn’t rightly tell you, dearie—maybe two hours back. I ran all +round the moor anywhere near, and so did every servant in the house, but +since the Doctor come in they has done the thing properly. Now where are +you going, Miss Polly, love?”</p> + +<p>“To my father. I wish this horrid noise wouldn’t go on in my head. Don’t +worry me, Nurse. I know it was my fault. I wouldn’t listen to the +warning, and I would provoke her, but don’t scold me now until I have +done my work.”</p> + +<p>Polly rushed downstairs.</p> + +<p>“Where’s father?” she asked of Bunny, who was sobbing violently, and +clinging in a frantic manner to Firefly’s skirts.</p> + +<p>“I—I don’t know. He’s out.”</p> + +<p>“He’s away on the moor,” said Fly. “Polly, are you really anxious about +baby Pearl?”</p> + +<p>“I have no time to be anxious,” said Polly. “I must find her first. I’ll +tell you then if I’m anxious. Where’s Nell, where are the twins?”</p> + +<p>“On the moor; they all went out with father.”</p> + +<p>“Which moor, the South or Peg-Top?”</p> + +<p>“I think the South moor.”</p> + +<p>“All right, I’m going out too. What’s the matter, Fly? Oh, you’re not to +come.”</p> + +<p>“Please, please, it’s so horrid in the house, and Bunny does make my +dress so soppy with crying into it.”</p> + +<p>“You’re not to come. You are to stay here and do your best, your very +best, for father and the others when they come home. If they don’t meet +me, say I’ve gone to look for baby and for Flower. I’ll come back when +I’ve found them. If <i>they</i> find baby and Flower, they might ask to have +the church bells rung, then I’ll know. Don’t stare at me like that, Fly; +it was my fault, so I must search until I find them.”</p> + +<p>Polly ran out of the house and down the lawn. Once again she was out on +the moor. The great solitary commons stretched to right and left; they +were everywhere, they filled the whole horizon, except just where Sleepy +Hollow lay, with its belt of trees, its cultivated gardens, and just +beyond the little village and the church with the square, gray tower. +There was a great lump in Polly’s throat, and a mist before her eyes. +The dreadful beating was still going on in her heart, and the surging, +ceaseless waves of sound in her ears.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she fell on her knees.</p> + +<p>“Please, God, give me back little Pearl. Please, God, save little Pearl. +I don’t want anything else; I don’t even want father to forgive me, if +You will save little Pearl.”</p> + +<p>Most earnest prayers bring a sense of comfort, and Polly did not feel +quite so lonely when she stood again on her feet, with the bracken and +the fern all round her.</p> + +<p>She tried hard now to collect her thoughts; she made a valiant effort to +feel calm and reasonable.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_112' id='Page_112'>[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I can do nothing if I get so excited,” she said to herself. “I must +just fight with my anxious spirit. My heart must stay quiet, for my +brain has got to work now. Let me see! where has Flower taken baby? +Father and Nell and the others are all searching the South moor, so I +will go on to Peg-Top. I will walk slowly, and I will look behind every +clump of trees, and I will call Flower’s name now and then; for I am +sure, I am quite, quite sure that, however dreadful her passion may have +been, if Flower is the least like me, she will be dreadfully sorry by +now—dreadfully sorry and dreadfully frightened—so if she hears me +calling she will be sure to answer. Oh, dear! oh, dear! here is my heart +speaking again, and my head is in a whirl, and the noises are coming +back into my ears. Oh! how fearfully I hate Flower! How could she, how +could she have taken our darling little baby away? And yet—and yet I +think I’d forgive Flower; I think I’d try to love her; I think I’d even +tell her that I was the one who had done most wrong; I think I’d even go +on my knees and beg Flower’s pardon, if only I could hold baby to my +heart again!”</p> + +<p>By this time Polly was crying bitterly. These tears did the poor child +good, relieving the pressure on her brain, and enabling her to think +calmly and coherently. While this tempest of grief, however, effected +these good results, it certainly did not improve her powers of +observation; the fast-flowing tears blinded her eyes, and she stumbled +along, completely forgetting the dangerous and uneven character of the +ground over which she walked.</p> + +<p>It was now growing dusk, and the dim light also added to poor Polly’s +dangers. Peg-Top Moor had many tracks leading in all directions. Polly +knew several of these, and where they led, but she had now left all the +beaten paths, and the consequence was that she presently found herself +uttering a sharp and frightened cry, and discovered that she had fallen +down a fairly steep descent. She was slightly stunned by her fall, and +for a moment or two did not attempt to move. Then a dull pain in her +ankle caused her to put her hand to it, and to struggle giddily to a +sitting position.</p> + +<p>“I’ll be able to stand in a minute,” she said to herself; and she +pressed her hand to her forehead, and struggled bravely against the +surging, waving sounds which had returned to her head.</p> + +<p>“I can’t sit here!” she murmured; and she tried to get to her feet.</p> + +<p>In vain!—a sharp agony brought her, trembling and almost fainting, once +more to a sitting posture. What was she to do?—how was she now to find +Flower and the baby? She was alone on the moor, unable to stir. Perhaps +her ankle was broken; certainly, it was sprained very badly.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r2473' id='r2473'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_113' id='Page_113'>[Pg 113]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2><h3>MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE.</h3> +</div> + +<p>When the Maybrights returned home from their disastrous picnic at +Troublous Times Castle, Maggie and George brought up the rear. In +consequence of their being some little way behind the others, Maggie did +not at once know of the fact of Flower’s disappearance with the baby. +She was naturally a slow girl; ideas came to her at rare intervals; she +even received startling and terrible news with a certain outward +stolidity and calm. Still, Maggie was not an altogether purposeless and +thoughtless maiden; thoughts occasionally drifted her way; ideas, when +once born in her heart, were slow to die. When affection took root there +it became a very sturdy plant. If there was any one in the world whom +Maggie adored, it was her dear young mistress, Miss Polly Maybright. +Often at night Maggie awoke, and thought, with feelings of almost +worship, of this bright, impulsive young lady. How delightful that week +had been when she and Polly had cooked, and housekeeped, and made cakes +and puddings together! Would any one but Polly have forgiven her for +taking that pound to save her mother’s furniture? Would any one in all +the world, except that dear, warm-hearted, impulsive Polly, have +promised to do without a winter jacket in order to return that money to +the housekeeping fund? Maggie felt that, stupid as she knew herself to +be, slow as she undoubtedly was, she could really do great things for +Polly. In Polly’s cause her brain could awake, the inertia which more or +less characterized her could depart. For Polly she could undoubtedly +become a brave and active young person.</p> + +<p>She was delighted with herself when she assisted Miss Maybright to +descend from her bed-room window, and to escape with her on to the moor, +but her delight and sense of triumph had not been proof against the +solitude of the sad moor, against the hunger which was only to be +satisfied with berries and spring water, and, above all, against the +terrible apparition of the wife of Micah Jones. What Maggie went, +through in the hermit’s hut, what terrors she experienced, were only +known to Maggie’s own heart. When, however, Mrs. Ricketts got back her +daughter from that terrible evening’s experience, she emphatically +declared that “Mag were worse nor useless; that she seemed daft-like, +and a’most silly, and that never, never to her dying day, would she +allow Mag to set foot on them awful lonely commons again.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ricketts, however, was not a particularly obstinate character, and +when Polly’s bright face peeped round her door, and Polly eagerly, and +almost curtly, demanded that Maggie should that very moment accompany +her on a delightful picnic to Troublous Times Castle, and Maggie +herself,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_114' id='Page_114'>[Pg 114]</a></span> with sparkling eyes and burning cheeks, was all agog to go, +and was now inclined to pooh-pooh the terrors she had endured in the +hermit’s hut, there was nothing for Mrs. Ricketts to do but to forget +her vow and send off the two young people with her blessing.</p> + +<p>“Eh, but she’s a dear young lady,” she said, under her breath, +apostrophizing Miss Maybright. “And Mag do set wonderful store by her, +and no mistake. It ain’t every young lady as ’ud think of my Maggie when +she’s going out pleasuring; but bless Miss Polly! she seems fairly took +up with my poor gel.”</p> + +<p>No face could look more radiant than Maggie’s when she started for the +picnic, but, on the other hand, no young person could look more +thoroughly sulky and downcast than she did on her return. Mrs. Ricketts +was just dishing up some potatoes for supper when Maggie flung open the +door of the tiny cottage, walked across the room, and flung herself on a +little settle by the fire.</p> + +<p>“You’re hungry, Mag,” said Mrs. Ricketts, without looking up.</p> + +<p>“No, I bean’t,” replied Maggie, shortly.</p> + +<p>“Eh, I suppose you got your fill of good things out with the young +ladies and gentlemen. It ain’t your poor mother’s way to have a bit of +luck like that, and you never thought, I suppose, of putting a slice or +two of plum cake, or maybe the half of a chicken, in your pocket, as a +bit of a relish for your mother’s supper. No, no, that ain’t your way, +Mag; you’re all for self, and that I will say.”</p> + +<p>“No, I ain’t mother. You has no call to talk so. How could I hide away +chicken and plum cake, under Miss Polly’s nose, so to speak. I was +setting nigh to Miss Polly, mother, jest about the very middle of the +feast. I had a place of honor close up to Miss Polly, mother.”</p> + +<p>“Eh, to be sure!” exclaimed Mrs. Ricketts.</p> + +<p>She stopped dishing up the potatoes, wiped her brow, and turned to look +at her daughter, with a slow expression of admiration in her gaze.</p> + +<p>“Eh,” she continued, “you has a way about you, Mag, with all your +contrariness. Miss Polly Maybright thinks a sight on you, Mag; seems to +me as if maybe she’d adopt you, and turn you into a real lady. My word, +I have read of such things in story-books.”</p> + +<p>“You had better go on dishing up your supper, mother and not be talking +nonsense like that. Miss Polly is a very good young lady, but she hasn’t +no thought of folly of that sort. Eh, dear me,” continued Maggie, +yawning prodigiously “I’m a bit tired, and no mistake.”</p> + +<p>“That’s always the way,” responded Mrs. Ricketts. “Tired and not a word +to say after your pleasuring; no talking about what happened, and what +Miss Helen wore, and if Miss Firefly has got on her winter worsted +stockings yet, and not a mention of them foreigners as we’re all dying +to hear<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_115' id='Page_115'>[Pg 115]</a></span> of, and not a word of what victuals you ate, nor nothing. +You’re a selfish girl, Maggie Ricketts, and that I will say, though I am +your mother.”</p> + +<p>“I’m sleepy,” responded Maggie, who seemed by no means put out by this +tirade on the part of her mother. “I’ll go up to bed if you don’t mind, +mother. No, I said afore as I wasn’t hungry.”</p> + +<p>She left the room, crept up the step-ladder to the loft, where the +family slept, and opening the tiny dormer window, put her elbows on the +sill and gazed out on the gathering gloom which was settling on the +moor.</p> + +<p>The news of the calamity which had befallen Polly had reached Maggie’s +ears. Maggie thought only of Polly in this trouble; it was Polly’s baby +who was lost, it was Polly whose heart would be broken. She did not +consider the others in the matter. It was Polly, the Polly whom she so +devotedly loved, who filled her whole horizon. When the news was told +her she scarcely said a word; a heavy, “Eh!—you don’t say!” dropped +from her lips. Even George, who was her informer, wondered if she had +really taken in the extent of the catastrophe; then she had turned on +her heel and walked down to her mother’s cottage.</p> + +<p>She was not all thoughtless and all indifferent, however. While she +looked so stoical and heavy she was patiently working out an idea, and +was nerving herself for an act of heroism.</p> + +<p>Now as she leant her elbows on the sill by the open window, cold Fear +came and stood by her side. She was awfully frightened, but her resolve +did not falter. She meant to slip away in the dusk and walk across +Peg-Top Moor to the hermit’s hut. An instinct, which she did not try +either to explain away or prove, led her to feel sure that she should +find Polly’s baby in the hermit’s hut. She would herself, unaided and +alone, bring little Pearl back to her sister.</p> + +<p>It would have been quite possible for Maggie to have imparted her ideas +to George, to her mother, or to some of the neighbors. There was not a +person in the village who would not go to the rescue of the Doctor’s +child. Maggie might have accompanied a multitude, had she so willed it, +to the hermit’s hut. But then the honor and glory would not have been +hers; a little reflection of it might shine upon her, but she would not +bask, as she now hoped to do, in its full rays.</p> + +<p>She determined to go across the lonely moor which she so dreaded alone, +for she alone must bring back Pearl to Polly.</p> + +<p>Shortly before the moon arose, and long after sunset, Maggie crept down +the attic stairs, unlatched the house door, and stepped out into the +quiet village street. Her fear was that some neighbors would see her, +and either insist on accompanying her on her errand, or bring her home. +The village, however, was very quiet that night, and at nine<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_116' id='Page_116'>[Pg 116]</a></span> o’clock, +when Maggie started on her search, there were very few people out.</p> + +<p>She came quickly to the top of the small street, crossed a field, +squeezed through a gap in the hedge, and found herself on the borders of +Peg-Top Moor. The moon was bright by this time, and there was no fear of +Maggie not seeing. She stepped over the ground briskly, a solitary +little figure with a long shadow ever stalking before her, and a +beating, defiant heart in her breast. She had quite determined that +whatever agony she went through, her fears should not conquer her; she +would fight them down with a strong hand, she would go forward on her +road, come what might.</p> + +<p>Maggie was an ignorant little cottager, and there were many folk-lore +tales abroad with regard to the moor which might have frightened a +stouter heart than hers. She believed fully in the ghost who was to be +seen when the moon was at the full, pacing slowly up and down, through +that plantation of trees at her right; she had unswerving faith in the +bogey who uttered terrific cries, and terrified the people who were +brave enough to walk at night through Deadman’s Glen. But she believed +more fully still in Polly, in Polly’s love and despair, and in the +sacredness of the errand which she was now undertaking to deliver her +from her trouble.</p> + +<p>From Mrs. Ricketts’ cottage to the hermit’s hut there lay a stretch of +moorland covering some miles in extent, and Maggie knew that the lonely +journey she was taking could not come to a speedy end.</p> + +<p>She knew, however, that she had got on the right track and that by +putting one foot up and one foot down, as the children do who want to +reach London town, she also at last would come to her destination.</p> + +<p>The moon shone brightly, and the little maid, her shadow always going +before her, stepped along bravely.</p> + +<p>Now and then that same shadow seemed to assume gigantic and unearthly +proportions, but at other times it wore a friendly aspect, and somewhat +comforted the young traveler.</p> + +<p>“It’s more or less part of me,” quoth Maggie, “and I must say as I’m +glad I have it, it’s better nor nought; but oh ain’t the moon fearsome, +and don’t my heart a-flutter, and a pit-a-pat! I’m quite sure now, yes, +I’m quite gospel sure that ef I was to meet the wife of Micah Jones, I’d +fall flat down dead at her feet. Oh, how fearsome is this moor! Well, ef +I gets hold of Miss Pearl I’ll never set foot an it again. No, not even +for a picnic, and the grandest seat at the feast, and the best of the +victuals.”</p> + +<p>The moon shone on, and presently the interminable walk came to a +conclusion. Maggie reached the hermit’s hut, listened with painful +intentness for the baying of some angry dogs, pressed her nose against +the one pane of glass in the one tiny window, saw nothing, heard +nothing, finally lifted the latch, and went in.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r3768' id='r3768'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_117' id='Page_117'>[Pg 117]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2><h3>THE HERMIT’S HUT.</h3> +</div> + +<p>It was perfectly dark inside the hut, for the little window, through +which the moon might have shone, was well shrouded with a piece of old +rug. It was perfectly dark, and Maggie, although she had stumbled a good +deal in lifting the latch, and having to descend a step without knowing +it, had all but tumbled headlong into the tiny abode, had evoked no +answering sound or stir of any sort.</p> + +<p>She stood still for a moment in the complete darkness to recover breath, +and to consider what she was to do. Strange to say, she did not feel at +all frightened now; the shelter of the four walls gave her confidence. +There were no dogs about, and Maggie felt pretty sure that the wife of +Micah Jones was also absent, for if she were in the hut, and awake, she +would be sure to say, “Who’s there?” quoth Maggie, to her own heart; +“and ef she’s in the hut, and asleep, why it wouldn’t be like her not to +snore.”</p> + +<p>The little girl stood still for a full minute; during this time she was +collecting her faculties, and that brain, which Polly was pleased to +call so small, was revolving some practical schemes.</p> + +<p>“Ef I could only lay my hand on a match, now,” she thought.</p> + +<p>She suddenly remembered that in her mother’s cottage the match-box was +generally placed behind a certain brick near the fireplace; it was a +handy spot, both safe and dry, and Maggie, since her earliest days, had +known that if there was such a luxury as a box of matches in the house, +it would be found in this corner. She wondered if the wife of Micah +Jones could also have adopted so excellent a practice. She stepped +across the little hut, felt with her hands right and left, poked about +all round the open fireplace, and at last, joy of joys, not only +discovered a box with a few matches in it, but an end of candle besides.</p> + +<p>In a moment she had struck a match, had applied it to the candle, and +then, holding the flickering light high, looked around the little hut.</p> + +<p>A girl, crouched up against the wall on some straw, was gazing at her +with wide-open terrified eyes; the girl was perfectly still, not a +muscle in her body moved, only her big frightened eyes gazed fixedly at +Maggie. She wore no hat on her head; her long yellow hair lay in +confusion over her shoulders; her feet were shoeless, and one arm was +laid with a certain air of protection on a wee white bundle on the straw +by her side.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” said Flower, at last. “Are you a ghost, or are you the +daughter of the dreadful woman who lives in this hut? See! I had a long +sleep. She put me to sleep,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_118' id='Page_118'>[Pg 118]</a></span> I know she did; and while I was asleep she +stole my purse and rings, and my hat and shoes. But that’s nothing, +that’s nothing at all. While I was asleep, baby here died. I know she’s +quite dead, she has not stirred nor moved for hours, at least it seems +like hours. What are you staring at me in that rude way for, girl? I’m +quite sure the baby, Polly’s little sister, is dead.”</p> + +<p>Nobody could speak in a more utterly apathetic way than Flower. Her +voice neither rose nor fell. She poured out her dreary words in a +wailing monotone.</p> + +<p>“I know that it’s my fault,” she added; “Polly’s little sister has died +because of me.”</p> + +<p>She still held her hand over the white bundle.</p> + +<p>“I’m terrified, but not of you,” she added; “you may be a ghost, +stealing in here in the dark; or you may be the daughter of that +dreadful woman. But whoever you are, it’s all alike to me. I got into +one of my passions. I promised my mother when she died that I’d never +get into another, but I did, I got into one to-day. I was angry with +Polly Maybright; I stole her little sister away, and now she’s dead. I +am so terrified at what I have done that I never can be afraid of +anything else. You need not stare so at me, girl; whoever you are I’m +not afraid of you.”</p> + +<p>Maggie had now found an old bottle to stick her candle into.</p> + +<p>“I am Miss Polly’s little kitchen-maid, Maggie Ricketts,” she replied. +“I ain’t a ghost, and I haven’t nothing to say to the wife of Micah +Jones. As to the baby, let me look at it. You’re a very bad young lady, +Miss Flower, but I has come to fetch away the baby, ef you please, so +let me look at it this minute. Oh, my, how my legs do ache; that moor is +heavy walking! Give me the baby, please, Miss Flower. It ain’t your +baby, it’s Miss Polly’s.”</p> + +<p>“So, you’re Maggie?” said Flower. There was a queer shake in her voice. +“It was about you I was so angry. Yes, you may look at the baby; take it +and look at it, but I don’t want to see it, not if it’s dead.”</p> + +<p>Maggie instantly lifted the little white bundle into her arms, removed a +portion of the shawl, and pressed her cheek against the cheek of the +baby.</p> + +<p>The little white cheek was cold, but not deadly cold, and some faint, +faint breath still came from the slightly parted lips.</p> + +<p>When Maggie had anything to do, no one could be less nervous and more +practical.</p> + +<p>“The baby ain’t dead at all,” she explained. “She’s took with a chill, +and she’s very bad, but she ain’t dead. Mother has had heaps of babies, +and I know what to do. Little Miss Pearl must have a hot bath this +minute.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Maggie,” said Flower. “Oh, Maggie, Maggie!”</p> + +<p>Her frozen indifference, her apathy, had departed. She rose from her +recumbent position, pushed back her hair<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_119' id='Page_119'>[Pg 119]</a></span> and stood beside the other +young girl, with eyes that glowed, and yet brimmed over with tears.</p> + +<p>“Oh, what a load you have taken off my heart!” she exclaimed. “Oh, what +a darling you are! Kiss me, Maggie, kiss me, dear, dear Maggie.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Miss. You was angry with me afore, and now you’re a-hugging +of me, and I don’t see no more sense in one than t’other. Ef you’ll hold +the baby up warm to you, Miss, and breathe ag’in her cheek werry +gentle-like, you’ll be a-doing more good than a-kissing of me. I must +find sticks, and I must light up a fire, and I must do it this minute, +or we won’t have no baby to talk about, nor fuss over.”</p> + +<p>Maggie’s rough and practical words were perhaps the best possible tonic +for Flower at this moment. She had been on the verge of a fit of +hysterics, which might have been as terrible in its consequences as +either her passion or her despair. Now trembling slightly, she sat down +on the little stool which Maggie had pulled forward for her, took the +baby in her arms, and partly opening the shawl which covered it, +breathed on its white face.</p> + +<p>The little one certainly was alive, and when Flower’s breath warmed it, +its own breathing became stronger.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Maggie bustled about. The hermit’s hut, now that she had +something to do in it, seemed no longer at all terrible. After a good +search round she found some sticks, and soon a bright fire blazed and +crackled, and filled the tiny house with light and warmth. A pot of +water was put on the fire to warm, and then Maggie looked round for a +vessel to bathe the baby in. She found a little wooden tub, which she +placed ready in front of the fire.</p> + +<p>“So far, so good!” she exclaimed; “but never a sight of a towel is there +to be seen. Ef you’ll give me the baby now, Miss, I’ll warm her limbs a +bit afore I put her in the bath. I don’t know how I’m to dry her, I’m +sure, but a hot bath she must have.”</p> + +<p>“I have got a white petticoat on,” said Flower. “Would that be any use?”</p> + +<p>“Off with it this minute, then, Miss; it’s better nor nought. Now, then, +my lamb! my pretty! see ef Maggie don’t pull you round in a twinkling!”</p> + +<p>She rubbed and chafed the little creature’s limbs, and soon baby opened +her eyes, and gave a weak, piteous cry.</p> + +<p>“I wish I had something to give her afore I put her in the bath,” said +Maggie. “There’s sure to be sperits of some sort in a house like this. +You look round you and see ef you can’t find something, Miss Flower.”</p> + +<p>Flower obediently searched in the four corners of the hut.</p> + +<p>“I can’t see anything!” she exclaimed. “The place seems quite empty.”</p> + +<p>“Eh, dear!” said Maggie: “you don’t know how to search. Take the baby, +and let me.”</p> + +<p>She walked across the cabin, thrust her hand into some<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_120' id='Page_120'>[Pg 120]</a></span> straw which was +pressed against the rafters, pulled out an old tin can and opened it.</p> + +<p>“Eh, what’s this?” she exclaimed. “Sperits? Now we’ll do. Give me the +baby back again, Miss Flower, and fetch a cup, ef you please.”</p> + +<p>Flower did so.</p> + +<p>“Put some hot water into it. Why, you ain’t very handy! Miss Polly’s +worth a dozen of you! Now pour in a little of the sperit from the tin +can—not too much. Let me taste it. That will do. Now, baby—now, Miss +Polly’s darling baby!—I’ll wet your lips with this, and you’ll have +your bath, and you’ll do fine!”</p> + +<p>The mixture was rubbed on the blue lips of the infant, and Maggie even +managed to get her to swallow a few drops. Then, the bath being prepared +by Flower, under a shower of scathing ridicule from Maggie, who had very +small respect, in any sense of the word, for her assistant, the baby was +put into it, thoroughly warmed, rubbed up, and comforted, and then, with +the white fleecy shawl wrapped well around her, she fell asleep in +Maggie’s arms.</p> + +<p>“She’ll do for the present,” said the kitchen-maid, leaning back and +mopping a little moisture from her own brow. “She’ll do for a time, but +she won’t do for long, for she’ll want milk and all kinds of comforts. +And I tell you what it is, Miss Flower, that my master and Miss Polly +can’t be kept a-fretting for this child until the morning. Some one must +go at once, and tell ’em where she is, and put ’em out of their misery, +and the thing is this: is it you, or is it me, that’s to do the job?”</p> + +<p>“But,” said Flower—she had scarcely spoken at all until now—“cannot we +both go? Cannot we both walk home, and take the baby with us?”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss, not by no means. Not a breath of night air must touch the +cheeks of this blessed lamb. Either you or me, Miss Flower, must walk +back to Sleepy Hollow, and tell ’em about the baby, and bring back +Nurse, and what’s wanted for the child. Will you hold her, Miss? and +shall I trot off at once?—for there ain’t a minute to be lost.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Flower, “I won’t stay in the hut. It is dreadful to me. I +will go and tell the Doctor and Polly.”</p> + +<p>“As you please, Miss. Maybe it is best as I should stay with little +Missy. You’ll find it awful lonesome out on the moor, Miss Flower, and I +expect when you get near Deadman’s Glen as you’ll scream out with +terror; there’s a bogey there with a head three times as big as his +body, and long arms, twice as long as they ought to be, and he tears up +bits of moss and fern, and flings them at yer, and if any of them, even +the tiniest bit, touches yer, why you’re dead before the year is out. +Then there’s the walking ghost and the shadowy maid, and the brown lady, +the same color as the bracken when it’s withering up, and—and—why, +what’s the matter, Miss Flower?”</p> + +<p>“Only I respected you before you talked in that way,” said Flower. “I +respected you very much, and I was awfully ashamed of not being able to +eat my dinner with you. But when you talk in such an awfully silly way I +don’t respect you, so you had better not go on. Please tell me, as well +as you can, how I’m to get to Sleepy Hollow, and I’ll start off at +once.”</p> + +<p>“You must beware of the brown lady, all the same.”</p> + +<p>“No, I won’t beware of her; I’ll spring right into her arms.”</p> + +<p>“And the bogey in Deadman’s Glen. For Heaven’s sake, Miss Flower, keep +to the west of Deadman’s Glen.”</p> + +<p>“If Deadman’s Glen is a short cut to Sleepy Hollow, I’ll walk through +it. Maggie, do you want Nurse to come for little Pearl, or not? I don’t +mind waiting here till morning; it does not greatly matter to me. I was +running away, you know.”</p> + +<p>“You must go at once,” said Maggie, recalled to common sense by another +glance at the sleeping child. “The baby’s but weakly, and there ain’t +nothing here as I can give her, except the sperits and water, until +Nurse comes. I’ll lay her just for a minute on the straw here, and go +out with you and put you on the track. You follow the track right on +until you see the lights in the village. Sleepy Hollow’s right in the +village, and most likely there’ll be a light in the Doctor’s study +window; be quick, for Heaven’s sake, Miss Flower?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I’m off. Oh, Maggie, Maggie! what do you think? That dreadful +woman has stolen my shoes. I forgot all about it until this minute. What +shall I do? I can’t walk far in my stockings.”</p> + +<p>“Have my boots, Miss; they’re hob-nailed, and shaped after my foot, +which is broad, as it should be, seeing as I’m only a kitchen-maid. But +they’re strong, and they are sure to fit you fine.”</p> + +<p>“I could put my two feet into one of them,” responded Flower, curling +her proud lip once again disdainfully. But then she glanced at the baby, +and a queer shiver passed over her; her eyes grew moist, her hands +trembled.</p> + +<p>“I will put the boots on,” she said. And she slipped her little feet, in +their dainty fine silk stockings, into Maggie’s shoes.</p> + +<p>“Good-by, Miss; come back as soon as you can,” called out the faithful +waiting-maid, and Flower set off across the lonely moor.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r9476' id='r9476'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_121' id='Page_121'>[Pg 121]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2><h3>AN OLD SONG.</h3> +</div> + +<p>It took a great deal to frighten Polly Maybright; no discipline, no hard +words, no punishments, had ever been able to induce the smallest +sensation of fear in her breast. As to the moor, she had been brought up +on it; she had drank<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_122' id='Page_122'>[Pg 122]</a></span> in its air, and felt its kindly breath on her +cheeks from her earliest days. The moors were to Polly like dear, +valued, but somewhat stern, friends. To be alone, even at night, in one +of the small ravines of Peg-Top Moor had little in itself to alarm the +moorland child.</p> + +<p>It took Polly some time to realize that she was absolutely unable to +stir a step. Struggle as she might, she could not put that badly-injured +foot to the ground. Even she, brave and plucky as she was, had not the +nerve to undergo this agony. She could not move, therefore she could do +nothing at present to recover little Pearl. This was really the thought +which distressed her. As to sleeping with her head pressed against the +friendly bracken, or staying on Peg-Top Moor all night, these were small +considerations. But not to be able to stir a step to find the baby, to +feel that Flower was carrying the baby farther and farther away, and +that Polly’s chance of ever seeing her again was growing less and less, +became at last a thought of such agony that the poor little girl could +scarcely keep from screaming aloud.</p> + +<p>“And it was all my fault!” she moaned. “I forgot what father said about +climbing the highest mountain. When David came to me, and told me that +Flower was subject to those awful passions, I forgot all about my +mountain-climbing. I did not recognize that I had come to a dangerous +bit, so that I wanted the ropes of prayer and the memory of mother to +pull me over it. No, I did nothing but rejoice in the knowledge that I +didn’t much like Flower, and that I was very, very glad to tease her. +Now I am punished. Oh, oh, what shall I do? Oh, if baby is lost! If baby +dies, I shall die too! Oh, I think I’m the most miserable girl in all +the world! What shall I do? Why did mother go away? Why did Flower come +here? Why did I want her to come? I made a mess of the housekeeping, and +now I have made a mess of the visit of the strangers. Oh, I’m the sort +of girl who oughtn’t to go a step alone!—I really, really am! I think +I’m the very weakest sort of girl in all the world!”</p> + +<p>Polly sobbed and sobbed. It was not her custom to give way thus utterly, +but she was in severe pain of body, and she had got a great shock when +the loss of little Pearl had been announced by David.</p> + +<p>“What shall I do?” she moaned and sobbed. “Oh, I’m the sort of girl who +oughtn’t to go a step alone.”</p> + +<p>While she cried all by herself on the moor, and the friendly stars +looked down at her, and the moon came out and shone on her poor forsaken +little figure, an old verse she used to say in her early childhood +returned to her memory. It was the verse of a hymn—a hymn her mother +was fond of, and used often to sing, particularly about the time of the +New Year, to the children.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Maybright had a beautiful voice, and on Sunday evenings she sang +many hymns, with wonderful pathos and feeling, to her children. Polly, +who cared for music on her<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_123' id='Page_123'>[Pg 123]</a></span> own account, had loved to listen. At these +times she always looked hungrily into her mother’s face, and a longing +and a desire for the best things of all awoke in her breast. It was at +such times as these that she made resolves, and thought of climbing high +and being better than others.</p> + +<p>Since her mother’s death, Polly could not bear to listen to hymns. In +church she had tried to shut her ears; her lips were closed tight, and +she diligently read to herself some other part of the service. For her +mother’s sake, the hymns, with that one beautiful voice silent, were +torture to her; but Polly was a very proud girl, and no one, not even +her father, who now came nearest to her in all the world, guessed what +she suffered.</p> + +<p>Now, lying on the moor, her mother’s favorite hymn seemed to float down +from the stars to her ears:</p> + +<p class='in'> +“I know not the way I am going,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>But well do I know my Guide;</span><br /> +With a trusting faith I give my hand<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>To the loving Friend at my side.”</span><br /> +<br /> +“The only thing that I say to Him<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>As He takes it is, ‘Hold it fast!</span><br /> +Suffer me not to lose my way,<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>And bring me home at last!’”</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>It did not seem at all to Polly that she was repeating these words +herself; rather they seemed to be said to her gently, slowly, +distinctly, by a well-loved and familiar voice.</p> + +<p>It was true, then, there was a Guide, and those who were afraid to go +alone could hold a Hand which would never lead them astray.</p> + +<p>Her bitter sobs came more quietly as she thought of this. Gradually her +eyes closed, and she fell asleep.</p> + +<p>When Flower started across the moor it was quite true that she was not +in the least afraid. A great terror had come to her that night; during +those awful minutes when she feared the baby was dead, the terror of the +deed she had done had almost stunned her; but when Maggie came and +relieved her of her worst agony, a good deal of her old manner and a +considerable amount of her old haughty, defiant spirit had returned.</p> + +<p>Flower was more or less uncivilized; there was a good deal of the wild +and of the untamed about her; and now that the baby was alive, and +likely to do well, overwhelming contrition for the deed she had done no +longer oppressed her.</p> + +<p>She stepped along as quickly as her uncomfortable boots would admit. The +moonlight fell full on her slender figure, and cast a cold radiance over +her uncovered head. Her long, yellow hair floated down over her +shoulders; she looked wonderfully ethereal, almost unearthly, and had +any of the villagers been abroad, they might well have taken her for one +of the ghosts of the moor.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_124' id='Page_124'>[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>Flower had a natural instinct for finding her way, and, aided by +Maggie’s directions, she steered in a straight course for the village. +Not a soul was abroad; she was alone, in a great solitude.</p> + +<p>The feeling gave her a certain sense of exhilaration. From the depths of +her despair her easily influenced spirits sprang again to hope and +confidence. After all, nothing very dreadful had happened. She must +struggle not to give way to intemperate feelings. She must bear with +Polly! she must put up with Maggie. It was all very trying, of course, +but it was the English way. She walked along faster and faster, and now +her lips rose in a light song, and now again she ran, eager to get over +the ground. When she ran her light hair floated behind her, and she +looked less and less like a living creature.</p> + +<p>Polly had slept for nearly two hours. She awoke to hear a voice singing, +not the sweet, touching, high notes which had seemed to fall from the +stars to comfort her, but a wild song:</p> + +<p class='in'> +“Oh, who will up and follow me?<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>Oh, who will with me ride?</span><br /> +Oh, who will up and follow me<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 1em;'>To win a bonny bride?”</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>For a moment Polly’s heart stood still; then she started forward with a +glad and joyful cry.</p> + +<p>“It is Flower! Flower coming back again with little Pearl!” she said, in +a voice of rapture. “That is Flower’s song and Flower’s voice, and she +wouldn’t sing so gayly if baby was not quite, quite well, and if she was +not bringing her home.”</p> + +<p>Polly rose, as well as she could, to a sitting posture, and shouted out +in return:</p> + +<p>“Here I am, Flower. Come to me. Bring me baby at once.”</p> + +<p>Even Flower, who in many respects had nerves of iron, was startled by +this sudden apparition among the bracken. For a brief instant she +pressed her hand to her heart. Were Maggie’s tales true? Were there +really queer and unnatural creatures to be found on the moor?</p> + +<p>“Come here, Flower, here! I have sprained my ankle. What are you afraid +of?” shouted Polly again. Then Flower sprang to her side, knelt down by +her, and took her cold hand in hers. Flower’s slight fingers were warm; +she was glowing all over with life and exercise.</p> + +<p>“Where’s baby?” said Polly, a sickly fear stealing over her again when +she saw that the queer girl was alone.</p> + +<p>“Baby? She’s in the hermit’s hut with Maggie. Don’t scold me, Polly. I’m +very sorry I got into a passion.”</p> + +<p>Polly pushed Flower’s fingers a little away.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to be angry,” she said. “I’ve been asking God to keep me +from being angry. I did wrong myself, I did<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_125' id='Page_125'>[Pg 125]</a></span> very wrong, only you did +worse; you did worse than I did, Flower.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see that at all. At any rate, I have said I am sorry. No one is +expected to beg pardon twice. How is it you are out here, lying on the +moor, Polly? Are you mad?”</p> + +<p>“No. I came out to look for baby, and for you.”</p> + +<p>“But why are you here? You could not find us in that lazy fashion.”</p> + +<p>“Look at my foot; the moonlight shines on it. See, it is twisted all +round. I fell from a height and hurt myself. I have been lying here for +hours.”</p> + +<p>“Poor Polly! I am really sorry. I once strained my foot like that. The +pain was very bad—very, very bad. Mother kept my foot on her knee all +night; she bathed it all night long; in the morning it was better.”</p> + +<p>“Please, Flower, don’t mind about my foot now. Tell me about baby. Is +she ill? Have you injured her?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. I suppose I did wrong to take her out like that. I said +before, I was sorry. I was frightened about her, awfully frightened, +until Maggie came in. I was really afraid baby was dead. I don’t want to +speak of it. It wasn’t true. Don’t look at me like that. Maggie came, +and said that little Pearl lived. I was so relieved that I kissed +Maggie, yes, actually, although she is only a kitchen-maid. Maggie got a +warm bath ready, and put baby in, and when I left the hut she was sound +asleep. Maggie knew exactly what to do for her. Fancy my kissing her, +although she is only a kitchen-maid!”</p> + +<p>“She is the dearest girl in the world!” said Polly. “I think she is +noble. Think of her going to the hermit’s hut, and finding baby, and +saving baby’s life. Oh, she is the noblest girl in the world, miles and +miles above you and me!”</p> + +<p>“You can speak for yourself. I said she behaved very well. It is +unnecessary to compare her to people in a different rank of life. Now, +do you think you can lean on me, and so get back to Sleepy Hollow?”</p> + +<p>“No, Flower. I cannot possibly stir. Look at my foot; it is twisted the +wrong way.”</p> + +<p>“Then I must leave you, for Maggie has sent me in a great hurry to get +milk, and comforts of all sorts, for baby.”</p> + +<p>“Please don’t stay an instant. Run, Flower. Why did you stay talking so +long? If father is in the house, you can tell him, and he will come, I +know, and carry me home. But, oh! get everything that is wanted for baby +first of all. I am not of the smallest consequence compared to baby. Do +run, Flower; do be quick. It frets me so awfully to see you lingering +here when baby wants her comforts.”</p> + +<p>“I shan’t be long,” said Flower. She gathered up her skirts, and sped +down the path, and Polly gave a sigh of real relief.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r4477' id='r4477'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_126' id='Page_126'>[Pg 126]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2><h3>LOOKING AT HERSELF.</h3> +</div> + +<p>That night, which was long remembered in the annals of the Maybright +family as one of the dreariest and most terrible they had ever passed +through, came to an end at last. With the early dawn Polly was brought +home, and about the same time Nurse and Maggie reappeared with baby on +the scene.</p> + +<p>Flower, after she had briefly told her tidings, went straight up to her +own room, where she locked the door, and remained deaf to all entreaties +on David’s part that he might come in and console her.</p> + +<p>“She’s always dreadful after she has had a real bad passion,” he +explained to Fly, who was following him about like a little ghost. “I +wish she would let me in. She spends herself so when she is in a passion +that she is quite weak afterwards. She ought to have a cup of tea; I +know she ought.”</p> + +<p>But it was in vain that David knocked, and that little Fly herself, even +though she felt that she hated Flower, brought the tea. There was no +sound at the other side of the locked door, and after a time the anxious +watchers went away.</p> + +<p>At that moment, however, had anybody been outside, they might have seen +pressed against the window-pane in that same room a pale but eager face. +Had they looked, too, they might have wondered at the hard lines round +the young, finely-cut lips, and yet the eager, pleading watching in the +eyes.</p> + +<p>There was a stir in the distance—the far-off sound of wheels. Flower +started to her feet, slipped the bolt of her door, ran downstairs, and +was off and away to meet the covered carriage which was bringing baby +home.</p> + +<p>She called to George, who was driving it, to stop. She got in, and +seated herself beside Nurse and baby.</p> + +<p>“How is she? Will she live?” she asked, her voice trembling.</p> + +<p>“God grant it!” replied the Nurse. “What are you doing, Miss Flower? No, +you shan’t touch her.”</p> + +<p>“I must! Give her to me this moment. There is Dr. Maybright. Give me +baby this moment. I must, I <i>will</i>, have her!”</p> + +<p>She almost snatched the little creature out of Nurse’s astonished arms, +and as the carriage drew up at the entrance steps sprang out, and put +the baby into Dr. Maybright’s arms.</p> + +<p>“There!” she said; “I took her away, but I give her back. I was in a +passion and angry when I took her away; now I repent, and am sorry, and +I give her back to you? Don’t you see, I can’t do more than give her +back to you? That is our way out in Victoria. Don’t you slow English +people understand? I was angry; now I am sorry. Why do you all<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_127' id='Page_127'>[Pg 127]</a></span> stand +round and stare at me like that? Can anybody be more than sorry, or do +more than give back what they took?”</p> + +<p>“It is sometimes impossible to give back what we took away, Flower,” +replied the Doctor, very gravely.</p> + +<p>He was standing in the midst of his children; his face was white; his +eyes had a strained look in them; the strong hands with which he clasped +little Pearl trembled. He did not look again at Flower, who shrank away +as if she had received a blow, and crept upstairs.</p> + +<p>For the rest of the day she was lost sight of; there was a great deal of +commotion and excitement. Polly, when she was brought home, was +sufficiently ill and suffering to require the presence of a doctor; +little Pearl showed symptoms of cold, and for her, too, a physician +prescribed.</p> + +<p>Why not Dr. Maybright? The children were not accustomed to strange faces +and unfamiliar voices when they were ill or in pain. Polly had a curious +feeling when the new doctor came to see her; he prescribed and went +away. Polly wondered if the world was coming to an end; she was in +greater pain than she had ever endured in her life, and yet she felt +quiet and peaceful. Had she gone up a step or two of the mountain she so +longed to climb? Did she hear the words of her mother’s favorite song, +and was a Guide—<i>the</i> Guide—holding her childish hand?</p> + +<p>The hour of the long day passed somehow.</p> + +<p>If there was calm in Polly’s room, and despair more or less in poor +Flower’s, the rest of the house was kept in a state of constant +excitement. The same doctor came back again; doors were shut and opened +quickly; people whispered in the corridors. As the hours flew on, no one +thought of Flower in her enforced captivity, and even Polly, but for +Maggie’s ceaseless devotion, might have fared badly.</p> + +<p>All day Flower Dalrymple remained in her room. She was forgotten at +meal-times. Had David been at home, this would not have been the case; +but Helen had sent David and her own little brothers to spend the day at +Mrs. Jones’s farm. Even the wildest spirits can be tamed and brought to +submission by the wonderful power of hunger, and so it came to pass that +in the evening a disheveled-looking girl opened the door of her pretty +room over the porch, and slipped along the passages and downstairs. +Flower went straight to the dining-room; she intended to provide herself +with bread and any other food she could find, then to return to her +solitary musings. She thought herself extremely neglected, and the +repentance and sense of shame which she had more or less experienced in +the morning and the memory of Dr. Maybright’s words and the look in has +grave eyes had faded under a feeling of being unloved, forsaken, +forgotten. Even David had never come near her—David, who lived for her. +Was she not his queen as well as sister? Was he not her dutiful subject +as well as her little brother?</p> + +<p>All the long day that Flower had spent in solitude her<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_128' id='Page_128'>[Pg 128]</a></span> thoughts grew +more and more bitter, and only hunger made her now forsake her room. She +went into the dining-room; it was a long, low room, almost entirely +lined with oak. There was a white cloth on the long center table, in the +middle of which a lamp burnt dimly; the French windows were open; the +blinds were not drawn down. As Flower opened the door, a strong cold +breeze caused the lamp to flare up and smoke, the curtains to shake, and +a child to move in a restless, fretful fashion on her chair. The child +was Firefly; her eyes were so swollen with crying that they were almost +invisible under their heavy red lids; her hair was tossed; the rest of +her little thin face was ghastly pale.</p> + +<p>“Is that you, Flower?” she exclaimed. “Are you going to stay here? If +you are, I’ll go away.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” said Flower. “<i>You</i> go away? You can go or stay, +just as you please. I have come here because I want some food, and +because I’ve been shamefully neglected and starved all day. Ring the +bell, please, Fly. I really must order up something to eat.”</p> + +<p>Fly rose from her chair. She had long, lanky legs and very short +petticoats, and as she stood half leaning against the wall, she looked +so forlorn, pathetic, and yet comical, that Flower, notwithstanding her +own anger and distress, could not help bursting out laughing.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” she said. “What an extraordinary little being you +are! You look at me as if you were quite afraid of me. For pity’s sake, +child, don’t stare at me in that grewsome fashion. Ring the bell, as I +tell you, and then if you please you can leave the room.”</p> + +<p>There was a very deep leather arm-chair near the fireplace. Into this +now Flower sank. She leant her head comfortably against its cushions, +and gazed at Firefly with a slightly sarcastic expression.</p> + +<p>“Then you don’t know!” said Fly, suddenly. “You sit there and look at +me, and you talk of eating, as if any one could eat. You don’t know. You +wouldn’t sit there like that if you really knew.”</p> + +<p>“I think you are the stupidest little creature I ever met!” responded +Flower. “I’m to know something, and it’s wonderful that I care to eat. I +tell you, child, I haven’t touched food all day, and I’m starving. +What’s the matter? Speak! I’ll slap you if you don’t.”</p> + +<p>“There’s bread on the sideboard,” said Fly. “I’m sorry you’re starving. +It’s only that father is ill; that—that he’s very ill. I don’t suppose +it is anything to you, or you wouldn’t have done it.”</p> + +<p>“Give me that bread,” said Flower. She turned very white, snatched a +piece out of Fly’s hand, and put it to her lips. She did not swallow it, +however. A lump seemed to rise in her throat.</p> + +<p>“I’m faint for want of food,” she said in a minute. “I’d like some wine. +If David was here, he’d give it to me.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_129' id='Page_129'>[Pg 129]</a></span> What’s that about your father? +Ill? He was quite well this morning; he spoke to me.”</p> + +<p>She shivered.</p> + +<p>“I’m awfully faint,” she said in a moment. “Please, Fly, be merciful. +Give me half a glass of sherry.”</p> + +<p>Fly started, rushed to the sideboard, poured a little wine into a glass, +and brought it to Flower.</p> + +<p>“There!” she said in a cold though broken-hearted voice. “But you +needn’t faint; he’s not your father; you wouldn’t have done it if he was +your father.”</p> + +<p>Flower tossed off the wine.</p> + +<p>“I’m better now,” she said.</p> + +<p>Then she rose from the deep arm-chair, stood up, and put her two hands +on Fly’s shoulder.</p> + +<p>“What have I done? What do you accuse me of?”</p> + +<p>“Don’t! You hurt me, Flower; your hands are so hard.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll take them off. What have I done?”</p> + +<p>“We are awfully sorry you came here. We all are; we all are.”</p> + +<p>“Yes? you can be sorry or glad, just as you please! What have I done?”</p> + +<p>“You have made father, our own father—you have made him ill. The doctor +thinks perhaps he’ll die, and in any case he will be blind.”</p> + +<p>“What horrid things you say, child! <i>I</i> haven’t done this.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Father was out all last night. You took baby away, and he went to +look for her, and he wasn’t well before, and he got a chill. It was a +bad chill, and he has been ill all day. You did it, but he wasn’t your +father. We are all so dreadfully sorry that you came here.”</p> + +<p>Flower’s hands dropped to her sides. Her eyes curiously dilated, looked +past Fly, gazing so intently at something which her imagination conjured +up that the child glanced in a frightened way over her shoulder.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter, Flower? What are you looking at?”</p> + +<p>“Myself.”</p> + +<p>“But you can’t see yourself.”</p> + +<p>“I can. Never mind. Is this true what you have been telling me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, it’s quite true. I wish it was a dream, and I might wake up out of +it.”</p> + +<p>“And you all put this thing at my door?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, of course. Dr. Strong said—Dr. Strong has been here twice this +evening—he said it was because of last night.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Sometimes we can never give back what we take away.</i>” These few words +came back to Flower now.</p> + +<p>“And you all hate me?” she said, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“We don’t love you, Flower; how could we?”</p> + +<p>“You hate me?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know. Father wouldn’t like us to hate anybody.”</p> + +<p>“Where’s Helen?”</p> + +<p>“She’s in father’s room.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_130' id='Page_130'>[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + +<p>“And Polly?”</p> + +<p>“Polly is in bed. She’s ill, too, but not in danger, like father. The +doctor says that Polly is not to know about father for at any rate a +day, so please be careful not to mention this to her, Flower.”</p> + +<p>“No fear!”</p> + +<p>“Polly is suffering a good deal, but she’s not unhappy, for she doesn’t +know about father.”</p> + +<p>“Is baby very ill, too?”</p> + +<p>“No. Nurse says that baby has escaped quite wonderfully. She was +laughing when I saw her last. She has only a little cold.”</p> + +<p>“I am glad that I gave her to your father myself,” said Flower, in a +queer, still voice. “I’m glad of that. Is David anywhere about?”</p> + +<p>“No. He’s at the farm. He’s to sleep there to-night with Bob and Bunny, +for there mustn’t be a stir of noise in the house.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well, I’d have liked to say good-by to David. You’re quite sure, +Fly, that you all think it was <i>I</i> made your father ill?”</p> + +<p>“Why, of course. You know it was.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know. Good-by, Fly.”</p> + +<p>“Good-night, you mean. Don’t you want something to eat?”</p> + +<p>“No. I’m not hungry now. It isn’t good-night; it’s good-by.”</p> + +<p>Flower walked slowly down the long, low, dark room, opened the door, +shut it after her, and disappeared.</p> + +<p>Fly stood for a moment in an indifferent attitude at the table. She was +relieved that Flower had at last left her, and took no notice of her +words.</p> + +<p>Flower went back to her room. Again she shut and locked her door. The +queer mood which had been on her all day, half repentance, half +petulance, had completely changed. It takes a great deal to make some +people repent, but Flower Dalrymple was now indeed and in truth facing +the consequences of her own actions. The words she had said to Fly were +quite true. She had looked at herself. Sometimes that sight is very +terrible. Her fingers trembled, her whole body shook, but she did not +take a moment to make up her mind. They all hated her, but not more than +she hated herself. They were quite right to hate her, quite right to +feel horror at her presence. Her mother had often spoken to her of the +consequences of unbridled passion, but no words that her mother could +ever have used came up to the grim reality. Of course, she must go away, +and at once. She sat down on the side of her bed, pressed her hand to +her forehead, and reflected. In the starved state she was in, the little +drop of wine she had taken had brought on a violent headache. For a time +she found it difficult to collect her thoughts.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r4797' id='r4797'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_131' id='Page_131'>[Pg 131]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2><h3>THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Flower quite made up her mind to go away again. Her mood, however, had +completely changed. She was no longer in a passion; on the contrary, she +felt stricken and wounded. She would go away now to hide herself, +because her face, her form, the sound of her step, the echo of her +voice, must be painful to those whom she had injured. She shuddered as +she recalled Firefly’s sad words:</p> + +<p>“Father says it is wrong to hate any one, but, of course, we cannot love +you.”</p> + +<p>She felt that she could never look Polly in the face again, that Helen’s +gentle smile would be torture to her. Oh, of course she must go away; +she must go to-night.</p> + +<p>She was very tired, for she had really scarcely rested since her fit of +mad passion, and the previous night she had never gone to bed. Still all +this mattered nothing. There was a beating in her heart, there was a +burning sting of remorse awakened within her, which made even the +thought of rest impossible.</p> + +<p>Flower was a very wild and untaught creature; her ideas of right and +wrong were of the crudest. It seemed to her now that the only right +thing was to run away.</p> + +<p>When the house was quiet, she once more opened her little cabinet, and +took from thence the last great treasure which it contained. It was one +solitary splendid unset diamond. She had not the least idea of its +value, but she knew that it would probably fetch a pound or two. She had +not the least notion of the value of money or of the preciousness of the +gem which she held in her hand, but she thought it likely that it would +supply her immediate needs.</p> + +<p>The house was quite still now. She took off her green cloth dress, put +on a very plain one of black cashmere, slipped a little velvet cap on +her head, wrapped a long white shawl round her, and thus equipped opened +her door, and went downstairs.</p> + +<p>She was startled at the foot of the stairs to encounter Maggie. Maggie +was coming slowly upwards as Flower descended, and the two girls paused +to look at one another. The lamps in the passages were turned low, and +Maggie held a candle above her head; its light fell full on Flower.</p> + +<p>“You mustn’t go to Miss Polly on no account, Miss Flower,” said Maggie, +adopting the somewhat peremptory manner she had already used to Flower +in the hermit’s hut. “Miss Polly is not to be frightened or put out in +any way, leastways not to-night.”</p> + +<p>“You mean that you think I would tell her about Dr. Maybright?”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps you would, Miss; you’re none too sensible.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_132' id='Page_132'>[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>Flower was too crushed even to reply to this uncomplimentary speech. +After a pause, she said:</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to Polly. I’m going away. Maggie, is it true that +the—that Dr. Maybright is very ill?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Miss, the Doctor’s despert bad.”</p> + +<p>Maggie’s face worked; her candle shook; she put up her other hand to +wipe away the fast-flowing tears.</p> + +<p>“Oh, don’t cry!” said Flower, stamping her foot impatiently. “Tears do +no good, and it wasn’t you who did it.”</p> + +<p>“No, Miss, no, Miss; that’s a bit of a comfort. I wouldn’t be you, Miss +Flower, for all the wide world. Well, I must go now; I’m a-sleeping in +Miss Polly’s room to-night, Miss.”</p> + +<p>“Why, is Polly ill, too?”</p> + +<p>“Only her foot’s bad. I mustn’t stay, really, Miss Flower.”</p> + +<p>“Look here,” said Flower, struck by a sudden thought, “before you go +tell me something. Your mother lives in the village, does she not?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes, Miss, just in the main street, down round by the corner. +There’s the baker’s shop and the butcher’s, and you turn round a sharp +corner, and mother’s cottage is by your side.”</p> + +<p>“I’ve a fancy to go and see her. Good-night.”</p> + +<p>“But not at this hour, surely, Miss?”</p> + +<p>“Why not? I was out later last night.”</p> + +<p>“That’s true. Well, I must go to Miss Polly now. Don’t you make any +noise when you’re coming in, Miss! Oh, my word!” continued Maggie to +herself, “what can Miss Flower want with mother? Well, she is a +contrairy young lady mischievous, and all that, and hasn’t she wrought a +sight of harm in this yer house! But, for all that, mother’ll be mighty +took up with her, for she’s all for romance, mother is, and Miss +Flower’s very uncommon. Well, it ain’t nought to do with me, and I’ll +take care to tell no tales to Miss Polly, poor dear.”</p> + +<p>The night was still and calm; the stars shone peacefully; the wind, +which had come in gusts earlier in the evening, had died down. It took +Flower a very few minutes to reach the village, and she wasn’t long in +discovering Mrs. Ricketts’ humble abode.</p> + +<p>That good woman had long retired to rest, but Flower’s peremptory +summons on the door soon caused a night-capped head to protrude out of a +window, a burst of astonishment to issue from a wonder-struck pair of +lips, and a moment later the young lady was standing by Mrs. Ricketts’ +fireside.</p> + +<p>“I’m proud to see you, Miss, and that I will say. Set down, Miss, do +now, and I’ll light up the fire in a twinkling.”</p> + +<p>“No, you needn’t,” said Flower. “I’m hot; I’m burning. Feel me; a fire +would drive me wild.”</p> + +<p>“To be sure, so you are, all in a fever like,” said Mrs. Ricketts, +laying her rough hand for a moment on Flower’s dainty arm. “You’ll let +me light up the bit of a paraffin<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_133' id='Page_133'>[Pg 133]</a></span> lamp, then, Miss, for it ain’t often +as I have the chance of seeing a young lady come all the way from +Australy.”</p> + +<p>“You can light the lamp, if you like,” said Flower. “And you can stare at +me as much as you please. I’m just like any one else, only wickeder. +I’ve come to you, Mrs. Ricketts, because you’re Maggie’s mother, and +Maggie’s a good girl, and I thought perhaps you would help me.”</p> + +<p>“I’m obligated for the words of praise about my daughter, Miss. Yes, she +don’t mean bad, Maggie don’t. What can I do to help you, Miss? Anything +in my power you are kindly welcome to.”</p> + +<p>“Have you ever seen a diamond, Mrs. Ricketts?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, I’m sure, Miss.”</p> + +<p>“Diamonds are very valuable stones, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Maybe, Miss. They ain’t in my way. I wish you’d let me light you a bit +of fire, Miss Flower. You’ll have the chills presently, Miss, for you’re +all of a burning fever now.”</p> + +<p>“You can do anything you like in the way of fire by-and-by. I have a +diamond here. Shall I show it to you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, law, Miss, I’m sure you are condescending.”</p> + +<p>“Come over close to the paraffin lamp. Now you shall see. Doesn’t it +sparkle!”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ricketts dropped a curtsey to the gem, which, unpolished as it was, +cast forth strange reflections, giving her, as she afterwards explained, +a “queer feel” and a sense of chill down the marrow of her back.</p> + +<p>“This is very valuable,” said Flower. “I don’t know what it is worth, +but my father gave it to my mother, and she gave it to me. She said it +would be well for me to have it in case of emergency. Emergency has +come, and I want to sell this stone. It is very likely that whoever buys +it from me will become rich. Would you like it? You shall have it for +what money you have in the house.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, law, Miss! but I’m a very poor woman, Miss.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ricketts curtseyed again, and drew closer. “For all the world, it +looks as if it were alive, Miss.”</p> + +<p>“All valuable diamonds look as if they lived. If this were cut and +polished it would dazzle you.”</p> + +<p>“And if I had it, I could sell it for a good bit of money?”</p> + +<p>“I am sure you could. I don’t know for how much, but for more than I am +likely to get from you.”</p> + +<p>“I’d like to pay Miss Polly back that pound as Maggie took from her.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t worry me about your debts. Will you have this beautiful uncut +diamond for the money you have in the house?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ricketts did not reply for a moment.</p> + +<p>“I have nine shillings and fourpence-halfpenny,” she said at last, “and +to-morrow is rent day. Rent will be eight shillings; that leaves me +one-and-fourpence-half penny for food. Ef I give you all my money, Miss, +how am I to pay rent? And how are the children to have food to-morrow?”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_134' id='Page_134'>[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But you can sell the diamond. Why are you so dreadfully stupid? You can +sell the diamond for one, two, or perhaps three pounds. Then how rich +you will be.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Miss! there’s no one in this yer village ’ud give away good money +for a bit of a stone like that; they’d know better. My word! it do send +out a sort of a flame, though; it’s wondrous to look upon!”</p> + +<p>“People will buy it from you in a town. Go to the nearest town, take it +to a jeweler, and see how rich you will be when you come out of his +shop. There, I will give it to you for your nine-and-fourpence-half +penny.”</p> + +<p>Flower laid the diamond in the woman’s hand.</p> + +<p>“It seems to burn me like,” she said. But all the same her fingers +closed over it, and a look of greed and satisfaction filled her face.</p> + +<p>“I don’t know if I’m a-doin’clock right,” she said, “for perhaps this ain’t +worth sixpence, and then where’s the rent and the food? But, all the +same, I don’t like to say no to a pretty lady when she’s in trouble. +Here’s the nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny, Miss. I earned it bit by bit by +washing the neighbors’ clothes; it wasn’t easy come by; there’s labor in +it, and aches and dead-tiredness about it. You take it, Miss. I only +trust the diamond will repay what I loses on that +nine-and-fourpence-half penny.”</p> + +<p>Flower handled the money as if she thought it dirty.</p> + +<p>Without a word she slipped it into the pocket of her dress.</p> + +<p>“I am going away,” she said. “They are angry with me at Sleepy Hollow. I +have done wrong. I am not a bit surprised. I’m going away, so as not to +cause them any more trouble.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, law, now, Miss! but they’ll fret to part with you.”</p> + +<p>“No they won’t. Anyhow, it isn’t your affair. I’m going away as soon as +I possibly can. Can you tell me where the nearest railway station is?”</p> + +<p>“There’s none closer than Everton, and that’s a matter of five mile from +here.”</p> + +<p>“I must get there as quickly as possible. What road shall I take?”</p> + +<p>“Do you think, Miss, I’d let a pretty young lady like you trape the +lanes in the dead of night? No, no; carrier goes between two and three +in the morning. You might go with him, if you must go.”</p> + +<p>“That is a good thought. Where does the carrier live?”</p> + +<p>“Three doors from here. I’ll run round presently and tell him to call.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you. Do you think nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny will take me to +Bath?”</p> + +<p>“To Bath, Miss? It might, if you condescended to third class.”</p> + +<p>“Third class will do very well. Did you ever hear Polly Maybright speak +of an aunt of hers, a Mrs. Cameron?”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ricketts, whose back was half turned to Flower while she shut and +locked the box out of which she had taken the precious +nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny, now sprang to her feet, and began to speak +in a tone of great excitement.</p> + +<p>“Did I hear of her?” she exclaimed. “Did I hear of the woman—for lady +she ain’t—what turned my Maggie out of her good place, and near broke +Miss Polly’s heart? Don’t mention Mrs. Cameron, please, Miss Flower, for +talk of her I won’t; set eyes on her I wouldn’t, no, not if I was to +receive a pound for it!”</p> + +<p>“You needn’t get so excited,” said Flower; “you have not got to see +Polly’s aunt; only I thought perhaps you could give me her address, for +I am going to her to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“I wouldn’t, Miss, if I was you.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you would if you were me. What is Mrs. Cameron’s address?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know as I can rightly tell you, Miss.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you must. I see you know it quite well.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, well then—you won’t like her a bit, Miss Flower.”</p> + +<p>“What’s her address?”</p> + +<p>“Jasper Street; I think it’s Jasper Street.”</p> + +<p>“And the number? She doesn’t live in the whole of Jasper Street.”</p> + +<p>“Now, was it a one and a six or a one and a seven?” queried Mrs. +Ricketts. “Oh, Miss! if I was you, I wouldn’t go near her; but I think +her number is a one and a seven.”</p> + +<p>“Seventeen, you mean.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that’s it; I was never great at counting.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r6604' id='r6604'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_135' id='Page_135'>[Pg 135]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2><h3>RELICS AND A WELCOME.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron’s house in Bath was decidedly old-fashioned. It was a +large, solemn, handsome mansion; its windows shone from constant +cleaning; its paint was always fresh, its Venetian blinds in perfect +order.</p> + +<p>When a certain wild, untidy, almost disreputable-looking girl ran up its +snow-white steps, and rang its highly polished brass bell, the neat +parlor maid who answered her summons stared at her, and doubted a good +deal if Mrs. Cameron could see her.</p> + +<p>“You had better step into the hall for a moment,” said the maidservant, +“and I’ll inquire if my missis is at leisure; but if it’s the new +housemaid’s place you’ve come after——”</p> + +<p>Flower gasped; she drew herself up, raised her hand, and took off her +small black velvet cap.</p> + +<p>“You forget yourself!” she said, with a haughtiness which did not ill +become her, notwithstanding her untidy and dishevelled state. “My name +is Flower Dalrymple, and I have come from Sleepy Hollow. Please let your +mistress know directly.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_136' id='Page_136'>[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>The parlor maid, who saw her mistake, was profuse in apologies.</p> + +<p>She showed Flower into a dismal-looking dining room, and went upstairs.</p> + +<p>“Who is it, Ann?” asked an anxious voice as she prepared to ascend the +richly-carpeted stairs.</p> + +<p>A door was opened at the end of the passage, and a fusty, dusty-looking +little man put in an appearance.</p> + +<p>“Who is it, Ann? Any one for me?”</p> + +<p>“A young lady as wants to see the missis, sir. Oh, Mr. Cameron! what a +deal of dust you has brought out into the ’all!”</p> + +<p>The little man looked meekly down at his dusty garments.</p> + +<p>“I have just been unpacking my last crate of curiosities from China, +Ann. Where is the young lady? Perhaps she would like to see the relics.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, that I’m sure she wouldn’t; she’s all blown and spent like. +She’s for all the world like a relic herself.”</p> + +<p>Ann tripped lightly upstairs, and Mr. Cameron, pushing his spectacles +high up on his bald forehead, looked with an anxious glance to right and +left. Then very quickly on tiptoe he crossed the hall, opened the +dining-room door, and went in.</p> + +<p>“How are you, young lady? If you are very quick, I can get you into my +sanctum sanctorum. I am just unpacking Chinese relics. I trust, I hope, +you are fond of relics.”</p> + +<p>Flower started to her feet.</p> + +<p>“I thought, I certainly thought, Polly said <i>Mrs.</i> Cameron,” she +remarked. “I don’t think I shall be at all afraid to live with you. I +don’t exactly know what Chinese relics are, but I should love to see +them.”</p> + +<p>“Then quick, my dear, quick! We haven’t a minute to spare. She’s sure to +be down in a jiffy. Now then, step on tiptoe across the hall. Ann has +the quickest ears, and she invariably reports. She’s not a nice girl, +Ann isn’t. She hasn’t the smallest taste for relics. My dear, there’s an +education in this room, but no one, no one who comes to the house, cares +to receive it.”</p> + +<p>While the little man was talking, he was rushing across the wide hall, +and down a long passage, Flower’s hand clasped in his. Finally he pushed +open a baize-lined door, hastily admitted himself and Flower, and closed +it behind them. The sanctum sanctorum was small, stuffy, dusty, dirty. +There were several chairs, but they were all piled with relics, two or +three tables were also crammed with tokens of the past. Flower was very +weary, the dust and dirt made her sneeze, and she looked longingly for +even the smallest corner of a chair on which to seat herself.</p> + +<p>“I do want some breakfast so badly,” she began.</p> + +<p>“Breakfast! My love, you shall have it presently. Now then, we’ll begin. +This case that I have just unpacked contains teeth and a small portion +of a jawbone. Ah! hark!<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_137' id='Page_137'>[Pg 137]</a></span> what is that? She is coming already! Will that +woman never leave me in peace? My love, the object of my life, the one +object of my whole life, has been to benefit and educate the young. I +thought at last I had found a pupil, but, ah, I fear she is very angry!”</p> + +<p>The sound of a sharp voice was heard echoing down the stairs and along +the passage, a sharp, high-pitched voice, accompanied by the sharper, +shriller barking of a small dog.</p> + +<p>“Zeb! I say, Zeb! Zebedee, if you have taken that young girl into your +sanctum, I desire you to send her out this moment.”</p> + +<p>The little man’s face grew pale; he pushed his spectacles still higher +on his forehead.</p> + +<p>“There, my love, do you hear her? I did my best for you. I was beginning +your education.”</p> + +<p>“Zeb! Zeb! Open the door this minute,” was shouted outside.</p> + +<p>“You’ll remember, my love, to your dying day, that I showed you three +teeth and the bit of jawbone of a Chinaman who died a thousand years +ago.”</p> + +<p>“Zeb!” thundered the voice.</p> + +<p>“Yap! yap! yap!” barked the small dog.</p> + +<p>“You must go, my dear. She’s a powerful woman. She always has her way. +There, let me push you out. I wouldn’t have her catch sight of me at +this moment for fifty pounds.”</p> + +<p>The green baize door was opened a tiny bit, a violent shove was +administered to Flower’s back, and she found herself in the arms of Mrs. +Cameron, and in extreme danger of having her nose bitten off by the +infuriated Scorpion.</p> + +<p>“Just like Zebedee!” exclaimed the good lady. “Always struggling to +impart the dry bones of obsolete learning to the young! Come this way, +Miss—Miss—what’s your name?”</p> + +<p>“Dalrymple—Flower Dalrymple.”</p> + +<p>“An outlandish title, worthy of Sleepy Hollow. I have not an idea who +you are, but come into the dining-room.”</p> + +<p>“Might I—— might I have a little breakfast?”</p> + +<p>“Bless me, the child looks as if she were going to faint! Ann, Ann, I +say! Down, Scorpion! You shall have no cream if you bark any more. Ann, +bring half a glass of port wine over here, and make some breakfast for +Miss—Miss Rymple as fast as you can.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Dal</i>rymple, please!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t worry me, child. I can’t get my tongue round long names. Now, +what is it you are called? Daisy? What in the world have you come to me +for, Daisy?”</p> + +<p>“I’m Flower——”</p> + +<p>“Well, and isn’t Daisy a flower? Now then, Daisy Rymple, tell your story +as quickly as possible. I don’t mind giving you breakfast, but I’m as +busy as possible to-day. I’ve six committee meetings on between now and +two o’clock. Say your say, Daisy, and then you can go.”</p> + +<p>“But I’ve come to stay.”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_138' id='Page_138'>[Pg 138]</a></span></p> + +<p>“To <i>stay</i>? Good gracious! Scorpion, down, sir! Now, young lady, have +you or have you not taken leave of your senses?”</p> + +<p>“No, really. May I tell you my story?”</p> + +<p>“If you take ten minutes over it; I won’t give you longer time.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll try to get it into ten minutes. I’m an Australian, and so is +David. David is my brother. We came over in the <i>Australasia</i> about six +weeks ago. Dr. Maybright met us in London, and took us down to Sleepy +Hollow.”</p> + +<p>“Bless the man!—just like him. Had he any responsible matron or +spinster in the house, child?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know; I don’t think so. There was Helen and Polly and——”</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to hear about Polly! Go on; your ten minutes will soon be +up. Go on.”</p> + +<p>“A couple of days ago we went on a picnic—I have a way of getting into +awful passions—and Polly—Polly vexed me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, she vexed you? You’re not the first that young miss has vexed, I +can tell you.”</p> + +<p>“She vexed me; I oughtn’t to have minded; I got into a passion; I felt +awful; I ran away with baby.”</p> + +<p>“Goodness me! what is the world coming to? You don’t mean to say you +have dared to bring the infant here, Daisy?”</p> + +<p>“No, no. I ran away with her on to the moors. I was so frightened, for I +thought baby had died. Then Maggie came, and she saved her life, and she +was brought home again.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a good thing; but I can’t see why you are troubling me with this +story.”</p> + +<p>“Yesterday morning I gave baby back to Dr. Maybright. He’s not like +other people; he looked at me, and his look pierced my heart. He said +something, too, and then for the first time I began to be really, really +sorry. I went up to my room; I stayed there alone all day; I was +miserable.”</p> + +<p>“Served you right if you were, Daisy.”</p> + +<p>“In the evening I was so hungry, I went down for food. I met Firefly; +she told me the worst.”</p> + +<p>“Then the baby died? You really are an awful girl, Daisy Rymple.”</p> + +<p>“No. The baby is pretty well, and Polly, who sprained her foot running +after me, is pretty well; but it’s—it’s Dr. Maybright—the best man I +ever met—a man who could have helped me and made me a—a good +girl—he’s very, very ill, and they think he may die. He wasn’t strong, +and he was out all night looking for baby and me, and he got a bad +chill, and he—he may be dead now. It was my doing; Fly told me so.”</p> + +<p>Flower laid her head on the table; her long sustained fortitude gave +way; she sobbed violently.</p> + +<p>Her tears stained Mrs. Cameron’s snowy table-linen; her head was pressed +down on her hands; her face was hidden. She was impervious in her woe +to any angry words or to the furious barking of a small dog.</p> + +<p>At last a succession of violent shakes recalled her to herself.</p> + +<p>“<i>Will</i> you sit up?—spoiling my damask and shedding tears into the +excellent coffee I have made for you. Ah, that’s better; now I can see +your face. Don’t you know that you are a very naughty, dangerous sort of +girl?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know that quite well. Mother always said that if I didn’t check +my passion I’d do great mischief some day.”</p> + +<p>“And right she was. I don’t suppose the table-linen will ever get over +those coffee stains mixed with tears. Now, have the goodness to tell me, +Daisy, or Ivy, or whatever you are called, why you have come to tell +this miserable, disgraceful story to me.”</p> + +<p>“Fly said they none of them could love me now.”</p> + +<p>“I should think not, indeed! No one will love such a naughty girl. What +have you come to me for?”</p> + +<p>“I thought I could stay with you for a little, until there was another +home found for me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, ah! Now at last we have come to the bottom of the mystery. And I +suppose you thought I’d pet you and make much of you?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t. I thought you’d scold me and be very cross. I came to you as +a punishment, for Polly always said you were the crossest woman she ever +met.”</p> + +<p>“Polly said that? Humph! Now eat up your breakfast quickly, Daisy. I’m +going out. Don’t stir from this room until I come back.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron, who had come down-stairs in her bonnet, slammed the +dining-room door after her, walked across the hall, and let herself out. +It did not take her many minutes to reach the telegraph office. From, +there she sent a brief message to Helen Maybright:</p> + +<p>“<i>Sorry your father is ill. Expect me this evening with Daisy Rymple.</i>”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r8824' id='r8824'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_139' id='Page_139'>[Pg 139]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2><h3>VERY ROUGH WEATHER.</h3> +</div> + +<p>With all her easy and languishing ways, Flower Dalrymple had often gone +through rough times. Her life in Australia had given to her experiences +both of the extreme of luxury and the extreme of roughing, but never in +the course of her young life did she go through a more uncomfortable +journey than that from Mrs. Cameron’s house in Bath to Sleepy Hollow. It +was true that Scorpion, Mrs. Cameron, and Flower, traveled first-class; +it was true also that where it was necessary for them to drive the best +carriages to be procured were at their service; but, as on all and every +occasion Scorpion was king of the ceremonies these arrangements did not<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_140' id='Page_140'>[Pg 140]</a></span> +add to Flower’s comfort. Mrs. Cameron, who felt seriously angry with the +young girl, addressed all her conversation to the dog, and as the dog +elected to sit on Flower’s lap, and snapped and snarled whenever she +moved, and as Mrs. Cameron’s words were mostly directed through the +medium of Scorpion at her, her position was not an agreeable one.</p> + +<p>“Ah-ha, my dear doggie!” said the good lady. “Somebody has come to the +wrong box, has she not? Somebody thought I would take her in, and be +kind to her, and pet her, and give her your cream, did she not? But no +one shall have my doggie’s cream; no, that they shan’t!”</p> + +<p>“Mrs. Cameron,” said Flower, when these particularly clever and lucid +remarks had continued for nearly an hour, “may I open the window of the +carriage at this side? I’m quite stifling.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron laid a firm, fat hand upon the window cord, and bent again +over the pampered Scorpion.</p> + +<p>“And is my doggie’s asthma not to be considered for the sake of somebody +who ought not to be here, who was never invited nor wished for, and is +now to be returned like a bad penny to where she came from? Is my own +dearest little dog to suffer for such a person’s whims? Oh, fie! oh, +fie! Well, come here my Scorpion; your mistress won’t reject you.”</p> + +<p>For Flower, in a fit of ungovernable temper, had suddenly dashed the +petted form of Scorpion to the ground.</p> + +<p>The poor angry girl now buried herself in the farthest corner of the +railway carriage. From there she could hear Mrs. Cameron muttering about +“somebody’s” temper, and hoping that “somebody” would get her deserts.</p> + +<p>These remarks, uttered several times, frightened Flower so much that at +last she looked up, and said, in a queer, startled voice:</p> + +<p>“You don’t think Dr. Maybright is going to die? You can’t be so awfully +wicked as to think that.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, we are wicked, are we, Scorpion?” said Mrs. Cameron, her fat hand +gently stroking down Scorpion’s smooth fur from tip to tail. “Never +mind, Scorpion, my own; never mind. When the little demon of temper gets +into somebody she isn’t quite accountable, is she?”</p> + +<p>Flower wondered if any restraining power would keep her from leaping out +of the window.</p> + +<p>But even the weariest journey comes to an end at last, and twenty-four +hours after she had left Sleepy Hollow, Flower, feeling the most +subdued, the most abject, the most brow-beaten young person in +Christendom, returned to it. Toward the end of the journey she felt +impervious to Mrs. Cameron’s sly allusions, and Scorpion growled and +snapped at her in vain. Her whole heart was filled with one +over-powering dread. How should she find the Doctor? Was he better? Was +he worse? Or had all things earthly come to an end for him; and had he +reached a place where even the<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_141' id='Page_141'>[Pg 141]</a></span> naughtiest girl in all the world could +vex and trouble him no longer?</p> + +<p>When the hired fly drew up outside the porch, Flower suddenly remembered +her first arrival—the gay “Welcome” which had waved above her head; the +kind, bright young faces that had come out of the darkness to greet her; +the voice of the head of the house, that voice which she was so soon to +learn to love, uttering the cheeriest and heartiest words of greeting. +Now, although Mrs. Cameron pulled the hall-door bell with no uncertain +sound, no one, for a time at least, answered the summons, and Flower, +seizing her opportunity, sprang out of the fly and rushed into the +house.</p> + +<p>The first person she met, the very first, was Polly. Polly was sitting +at the foot of the stairs, all alone. She had seated herself on the +bottom step. Her knees were huddled up almost to her chin. Her face was +white, and bore marks of tears. She scarcely looked up when Flower ran +to her.</p> + +<p>“Polly! Polly! How glad I am you at least are not very ill.”</p> + +<p>“Is that you, Flower?” asked Polly.</p> + +<p>She did not seem surprised, or in any way affected.</p> + +<p>“Yes, my leg does still ache very much. But what of that? What of +anything now? He is worse! They have sent for another doctor. The doctor +from London is upstairs; he’s with him. I’m waiting here to catch him +when he comes down, for I must know the very worst.”</p> + +<p>“The very worst!” echoed Flower in a feeble tone.</p> + +<p>She tumbled down somehow on to the stair beside Polly, and the next +instant her death-like face lay in Polly’s lap.</p> + +<p>“Now, my dear, you need not be in the least frightened,” said a shrill +voice in Polly’s ears. “A most troublesome young person! a most +troublesome! She has just fainted; that’s all. Let me fetch a jug of +cold water to pour over her.”</p> + +<p>“Is that <i>you</i>, Aunt Maria?” said Polly. “Oh, yes, there was a telegram, +but we forgot all about it. And is that Scorpion, and is he going to +bark? But he mustn’t! Please kneel down here, Aunt Maria, and hold +Flower’s head. Whatever happens, Scorpion mustn’t bark. Give him to me!”</p> + +<p>Before Mrs. Cameron had time to utter a word or in any way to +expostulate, she found herself dragged down beside Flower, Flower’s head +transferred to her capacious lap, and the precious Scorpion snatched out +of her arms. Polly’s firm, muscular young fingers tightly held the dog’s +mouth, and in an instant Scorpion and she were out of sight. +Notwithstanding all his fighting and struggling and desperate efforts to +free himself, she succeeded in carrying him to a little deserted summer +pagoda at a distant end of the garden. Here she locked him in, and +allowed him to suffer both cold and hunger for the remainder of the +night.</p> + +<p>There are times when even the most unkind are softened. Mrs. Cameron was +not a sympathetic person. She was a great philanthropist, it is true, +and was much esteemed, especially by those people who did not know her +well. But<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_142' id='Page_142'>[Pg 142]</a></span> love, the real name for what the Bible calls charity, seldom +found an entrance into her heart. The creature she devoted most +affection to was Scorpion. But now, as she sat in the still house, which +all the time seemed to throb with a hidden intense life; when she heard +in the far distance doors opening gently and stifled sobs and moans +coming from more than one young throat; when she looked down at the +deathlike face of Flower—she really did forget herself, and rose for +once to the occasion.</p> + +<p>Very gently—for she was a strong woman—she lifted Flower, and carried +her into the Doctor’s study. There she laid her on a sofa, and gave her +restoratives, and when Flower opened her dazed eyes she spoke to her +more kindly than she had done yet.</p> + +<p>“I have ordered something for you, which you are to take at once,” she +said. “Ah! here it is! Thank you, Alice. Now, Daisy, drink this off at +once.”</p> + +<p>It was a beaten-up egg in milk and brandy, and when Flower drank it she +felt no longer giddy, and was able to sit up and look around her.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Polly and all the other children remained still as mice +outside the Doctor’s door. They had stolen on tiptoe from different +quarters of the old house to this position, and now they stood perfectly +still, not looking at one another or uttering a sound, but with their +eyes fixed with pathetic earnestness and appeal at the closed door. When +would the doctors come out? When would the verdict be given? Minutes +passed. The children found this time of tension an agony.</p> + +<p>“I can’t bear it!” sobbed Firefly at last.</p> + +<p>But the others said, “Hush!” so peremptorily, and with such a total +disregard for any one person’s special emotions, that the little girl’s +hysterical fit was nipped in the bud.</p> + +<p>At last there was a sound of footsteps within the room, and the local +practitioner, accompanied by the great physician from London, opened the +door carefully and came out.</p> + +<p>“Go in and sit with your father,” said one of the doctors to Helen.</p> + +<p>Without a word she disappeared into the darkened room, and all the +others, including little Pearl in Nurse’s arms, followed the medical men +downstairs. They went into the Doctor’s study, where Flower was still +lying very white and faint on the sofa. Fortunately for the peace of the +next quarter of an hour Mrs. Cameron had taken herself off in a vain +search for Scorpion.</p> + +<p>“Now,” said Polly, when they were all safely in the room—she took no +notice of Flower; she did not even see her—“now please speak; please +tell us the whole truth at once.”</p> + +<p>She went up and laid her hand on the London physician’s arm.</p> + +<p>“The whole truth? But I cannot do that, my dear young lady,” he said, in +hearty, genial tones. “Bless me!” turning<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_143' id='Page_143'>[Pg 143]</a></span> to the other doctor, “do all +these girls and boys belong to Maybright? And so you want the whole +truth, Miss—Miss——”</p> + +<p>“I’m called Polly, sir.”</p> + +<p>“The whole truth, Polly? Only God knows that. Your father was in a weak +state of health; he had a shock and a chill. We feared mischief to the +brain. Oh, no, he is by no means out of the wood yet. Still I have hope +of him; I have great hope. What do you say, Strong? Symptoms have +undoubtedly taken a more favorable turn during the last hour or two.”</p> + +<p>“I quite agree with you, Sir Andrew,” said the local practitioner, with +a profound bow.</p> + +<p>“Then, my dear young lady, my answer to you, to all of you, is that, +although only God knows the whole truth, there is, in my opinion, +considerable hope—yes, considerable. I’ll have a word with you in the +other room, Strong. Good-by, children; keep up your spirits. I have +every reason to think well of the change which has set in within the +last hour.”</p> + +<p>The moment the doctors left the room Polly looked eagerly round at the +others.</p> + +<p>“Only God knows the truth,” she said. “Let us pray to Him this very +minute. Let’s get on our knees at once.”</p> + +<p>They all did so, and all were silent.</p> + +<p>“What are we to say, Polly?” asked Firefly at last. “I never did ’aloud +prayers’ since mother died.”</p> + +<p>“Hush! There’s the Lord’s Prayer,” said Polly. “Won’t somebody say it? +My voice is choking.”</p> + +<p>“I will,” said Flower.</p> + +<p>Nobody had noticed her before; now she came forward, knelt down by +Polly’s side, and repeated the prayer of prayers in a steady voice. When +it was over, she put up her hands to her face, and remained silent.</p> + +<p>“What are you saying now?” asked Firefly, pulling at her skirt.</p> + +<p>“Something about myself.”</p> + +<p>“What is that?” they all asked.</p> + +<p>“I’ve been the wickedest girl in the whole of England. I have been +asking God to forgive me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, poor Flower!” echoed the children, touched by her dreary, forsaken +aspect.</p> + +<p>Polly put her arms round her and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“We have quite forgiven you, so, of course, God will,” she said.</p> + +<p>“How noble you are! Will you be my friend?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, if you want to have me. Oh, children!” continued Polly, “do you +think we can any of us ever do anything naughty again if father gets +better?”</p> + +<p>“He will get better now,” said Firefly.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r9415' id='r9415'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_144' id='Page_144'>[Pg 144]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2><h3>A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Whether it was the children’s faith or the children’s prayer, certain it +is that from that moment the alarming symptoms in connection with Dr. +Maybright’s illness abated. It was some days before he was pronounced +out of danger, but even that happy hour arrived in due course, and one +by one his children were allowed to come to see him.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron meanwhile arranged matters pretty much as she pleased +downstairs. Helen, who from the first had insisted on nursing her father +herself, had no time to housekeep. Polly’s sprained ankle would not get +well in a minute, and, besides, other circumstances had combined to +reduce that young lady’s accustomed fire and ardor. Consequently, Mrs. +Cameron had matters all her own way, and there is not the least doubt +that she and Scorpion between them managed to create a good deal of +moral and physical disquietude.</p> + +<p>“Well,” she said to herself, “when all is said and done, that poor man +who is on the flat of his back upstairs is my sainted Helen’s husband; +and if at such a time as this Maria Cameron should harbor ill-will in +her heart it would but ill become the leader of some of the largest +philanthropic societies in Bath. No, for the present my place is here, +and no black looks, nor surly answers, nor impertinent remarks, will +keep Maria Cameron from doing her duty.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly Mrs. Power gave a month’s notice, and Alice wept so +profusely that her eyes for the time being were seriously injured. +Scorpion bit the new kitchen-maid Jane twice, who went into hysterics +and expected hydrophobia daily. But notwithstanding these and sundry +other fracases, Mrs. Cameron steadily pursued her way. She looked into +account-books, she interviewed the butcher, she dismissed the baker, she +overhauled the store-room, and after her own fashion—and a disagreeable +fashion it was—did a good deal of indirect service to the family.</p> + +<p>Flower in particular she followed round so constantly and persistently +that the young girl began to wonder if Mrs. Cameron seriously and really +intended to punish her, by now bereaving her of her senses.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think I can stand it much longer,” said Flower to Polly. “Last +night I was in bed and asleep when she came in. I was awfully tired, and +had just fallen into my first sleep, when that detestable dog snapped at +my nose. There was Mrs. Cameron standing in the middle of the room with +a lighted candle in her hand. ‘Get up,’ she said. ‘What for?’ I asked. +‘Get up this minute!’ she said, and she stamped her foot. I thought +perhaps she would disturb your father, for my room is not far away from +his, so I<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_145' id='Page_145'>[Pg 145]</a></span> tumbled out of bed. ‘Now, what is the matter?’ I asked. ‘The +matter?’ said Mrs. Cameron. ‘<i>That’s</i> the matter! and <i>that’s</i> the +matter! and <i>that’s</i> the matter!’ And what do you think? She was +pointing to my stockings and shoes, and my other clothes. I always do +leave them in a little heap in the middle of the floor; they’re +perfectly comfortable there, and it doesn’t injure them in the least. +Well! that awful woman woke me out of my sleep to put them by. She stood +over me, and made me fold the clothes up, and shake out the stockings, +and put the shoes under a chair, and all the time that fiendish dog was +snapping at my heels. Oh, it’s intolerable! I’ll be in a lunatic asylum +if this goes on much longer!”</p> + +<p>Polly laughed; she could not help it; and Firefly and David, who were +both listening attentively, glanced significantly at one another.</p> + +<p>The next morning, very, very early, Firefly was awakened by a bump. She +sat up, rubbed her eyes, and murmured, “All right!” under her breath.</p> + +<p>“Put something on, Fly, and be quick,” whispered David’s voice from the +door.</p> + +<p>Firefly soon tumbled into a warm frock, a thick outdoor jacket, and a +little fur cap; her shoes and stockings were tumbled on anyhow. Holding +her jacket together—for she was in too great a hurry to fasten it—she +joined David.</p> + +<p>“I did it last night,” he said; “it’s a large hole; he’ll never be +discovered there. And now the thing is to get him.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Dave, how will you manage that?”</p> + +<p>“Trust me, Fly. Even if I do run a risk, I don’t care. Anything is +better than the chance of Flower getting into another of her passions.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, anything, of course,” said Fly. “Are you going to kill him, Dave?”</p> + +<p>“No. The hole is big; he can move about in it. What I thought of was +this—we’d sell him.”</p> + +<p>“Sell him? But he isn’t ours.”</p> + +<p>“No matter! He’s a public nuisance, and he must be got rid of. There are +often men wandering on the moor who would be glad to buy a small dog +like Scorpion. They’d very likely give us a shilling for him. Then we’d +drop the shilling into Mrs. Cameron’s purse. Don’t you see? She’d never +know how it got there. Then, you understand, it would really have been +Mrs. Cameron who sold Scorpion.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, delicious!” exclaimed Fly. “She’d very likely spend the money on +postage stamps to send round begging charity letters.”</p> + +<p>“So Scorpion would have done good in the end,” propounded David. “But +come along now, Fly. The difficult thing is to catch the little brute.”</p> + +<p>It was still very early in the morning, and the corridors and passages +were quite dark. David and Fly, however, could feel their way about like +little mice, and they soon<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_146' id='Page_146'>[Pg 146]</a></span> found themselves outside the door of the +green room, which was devoted to Mrs. Cameron.</p> + +<p>“Do you feel this?” said David, putting out his hand and touching Fly. +“This is a long towel; I’m winding part of it round my hand and arm. I +don’t want to get hydrophobia, like poor Jane. Now, I’m going to creep +into Mrs. Cameron’s room so quietly, that even Scorpion won’t wake. I +learned how to do that from the black people in Australia. You may stand +there, Fly, but you won’t hear even a pin fall till I come back with +Scorpion.”</p> + +<p>“If I don’t hear, I feel,” replied Fly. “My heart does thump so. I’m +just awfully excited. Don’t be very long away, Dave.”</p> + +<p>By this time David had managed to unhasp the door. He pushed it open a +few inches, and then lay flat down on his face and hands. The next +moment he had disappeared into the room, and all was profoundly still. +Fly could hear through the partly open door the gentle and regularly +kept-up sound of a duet of snoring. After three or four minutes the duet +became a solo. Still there was no other sound, not a gasp, not even the +pretense of a bark. More minutes passed by. Had David gone to sleep on +the floor? Was Scorpion dead that he had ceased to snore?</p> + +<p>These alarming thoughts had scarcely passed through her mind before +David rejoined her.</p> + +<p>“He’s wrapped up in this towel,” he said. “He’s kicking with his hind +legs, but he can’t get a squeak out; now come along.”</p> + +<p>Too careless and happy in the success of their enterprise even to +trouble to shut Mrs. Cameron’s door, the two children rushed downstairs +and out of the house. They effected their exit easily by opening the +study window. In a moment or two they were in the shrubbery.</p> + +<p>“The hole isn’t here,” said David. “Somebody might find him here and +bring him back, and that would never do. Do you remember Farmer Long’s +six-acre field?”</p> + +<p>“Where he keeps the bull?” exclaimed Fly. “You haven’t made the hole +there, Dave?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I have, in one corner! It’s the best place in all the world, for +not a soul will dare to come near the field while the bull is there. You +needn’t be frightened, Fly! He’s always taken home at night! He’s not +there now. But don’t you see how he’ll guard Scorpion all day? Even Mrs. +Cameron won’t dare to go near the field while the bull is there.”</p> + +<p>“I see!” responded Fly, in an appreciative voice. “You’re a very clever +boy, Dave. Now let’s come quick and pop him into the hole.”</p> + +<p>Farmer Long’s six-acre field was nearly a quarter of a mile away, but +the children reached it in good time, and Fly looked down with interest +on the scene of David’s excavations. The hole, which must have given the +little boy<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_147' id='Page_147'>[Pg 147]</a></span> considerable labor, was nearly three feet deep, and about a +foot wide. In the bottom lay a large beef bone.</p> + +<p>“He won’t like it much!” said David. “His teeth aren’t good; he can only +eat chicken bones, but hunger will make him nibble it by-and-by. Now, +Fly, will you go behind that furze bush and bring me a square, flat +board, which you will find there?”</p> + +<p>“What a funny board!” said Fly, returning in a moment. “It’s all over +little square holes.”</p> + +<p>“Those are for him to breathe through,” said David. “Now, then, master, +here you go! You won’t annoy any one in particular here, unless, +perhaps, you interfere with Mr. Bull’s arrangements. Hold the board over +the top of the hole, so, Fly. Now then, I hope you’ll enjoy yourself, my +dear amiable little friend.”</p> + +<p>The bandage which firmly bound Scorpion’s mouth was removed. He was +popped into the hole, and the wooden cover made fast over the top. The +children went home, vowing eternal secrecy, which not even tortures +should wring from them.</p> + +<p>At breakfast that morning Mrs. Cameron appeared late on the scene. Her +eyes were red with weeping. She also looked extremely cross.</p> + +<p>“Helen, I must request you to have some fresh coffee made for me. I +cannot bear half cold coffee. Daisy, have the goodness to ring the bell. +Yes, my dear children, I am late. I have a sad reason for being late; +the dog is nowhere to be found.”</p> + +<p>A gleam of satisfaction filled each young face. Fly crimsoning greatly, +lowered her eyes; but David looked tranquilly full at Mrs. Cameron.</p> + +<p>“Is it that nice little Scorpion?” he asked. “I’m awfully sorry, but I +suppose he went for a walk.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron glanced with interest at David’s sympathetic face.</p> + +<p>“No, my dear boy, that isn’t his habit. The dear little dog sleeps, as a +rule, until just the last moment. Then I lift him gently, and carry him +downstairs for his cream.”</p> + +<p>“I wonder how he likes that bare beef bone?” murmured Fly, almost aloud.</p> + +<p>“He’s sure to come home for his cream in a moment or two!” said David.</p> + +<p>He gave Fly a violent kick under the table.</p> + +<p>“Helen,” said Mrs. Cameron, “be sure you keep Scorpion’s cream.”</p> + +<p>“There isn’t any,” replied Helen. “I was obliged to send it up to +father. There was not nearly so much cream as usual this morning. I had +scarcely enough for father.”</p> + +<p>“You don’t mean to tell me you have used up the dog’s cream?” exclaimed +Mrs. Cameron. “Well, really, that <i>is</i> too much. The little animal will +starve, he can’t touch anything else. Oh, where is he? My little, +faithful pet! My<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_148' id='Page_148'>[Pg 148]</a></span> lap feels quite empty without him. My dear children, I +trust you may never love—<i>love</i> a little creature as I love Scorpion, +and then lose him. Yes, I am seriously uneasy, the dog would not have +left me of his own accord.”</p> + +<p>Here, to the astonishment of everybody, and the intense indignation of +Mrs. Cameron, Fly burst into a scream of hysterical laughter, and hid +her face in Polly’s neck.</p> + +<p>“What a naughty child!” exclaimed the good lady. “You have no sympathy +with my pet, my darling! Speak this minute. Where is the dog, miss?”</p> + +<p>“I expect in his grave,” said Fly.</p> + +<p>Whereupon Dave suddenly disappeared under the table, and all the others +stared in wonder at Fly.</p> + +<p>“Firefly, do you know anything?”</p> + +<p>“I expect Scorpion is in his grave. Where is the use of making such a +fuss?” responded Fly.</p> + +<p>And she made a precipitate retreat out of the window.</p> + +<p>All the remainder of that day was occupied in a vain search for the +missing animal. Mrs. Cameron strongly suspected Firefly, but the only +remark the little girl could be got to make was:</p> + +<p>“I am sure Scorpion is in his grave.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron said that was no answer, and further insisted that the +child should be severely punished. But as in reply to that, Helen said +firmly that as long as father was in the house no one should punish the +children but him, she felt, for the present, at least, obliged to hold +her sense of revenge in check.</p> + +<p>After Fly had gone to bed that night, David crept into her room.</p> + +<p>“I’ve done it all now,” he said. “I sold Scorpion to-night for a +shilling to a man who was walking across the moor, and I have just +popped the shilling into Mrs. Cameron’s purse. The horrid little brute +worked quite a big hole in the bottom of the grave, Fly, and he nearly +snapped my fingers off when I lifted him out to give him to Jones. But +he’s away now, that’s a comfort. What a silly thing you were, Fly, to +burst out laughing at breakfast, and then say that Scorpion was in his +grave.”</p> + +<p>“But it was so true, David. That hole looked exactly like a grave.”</p> + +<p>“But you have drawn suspicion upon you. Now, Mrs. Cameron certainly +doesn’t suspect me. See what she has given me: this beautiful new +two-shilling piece. She said I was a very kind boy, and had done my best +to find her treasure for her.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Dave, how could you take it!”</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t I, just! I’m not a little muff, like you. I intend to buy a +set of wickets with this. Well, good-night, Fly; nobody need fear +hydrophobia after this good day’s work.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r4449' id='r4449'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_149' id='Page_149'>[Pg 149]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2><h3>A DILEMMA.</h3> +</div> + +<p>A night’s sleep had by no means improved Mrs. Cameron’s temper. She came +downstairs the next morning so snappish and disagreeable, so much +inclined to find fault with everybody, and so little disposed to see the +faintest gleam of light in any direction, that the children almost +regretted Scorpion’s absence, and began to wonder if, after all, he was +not a sort of safety-valve for Mrs. Cameron, and more or less essential +to her existence.</p> + +<p>Hitherto this good woman had not seen her brother-in-law; and it was +both Helen’s and Polly’s constant aim to keep her from the sick room.</p> + +<p>It was several days now since the Doctor was pronounced quite out of +danger; but the affection of his eyes which had caused his children so +many anxious fears, had become much worse. As the London oculist had +told him, any shock or chill would do this; and there was now no doubt +whatever that for a time, at least, he would have to live in a state of +total darkness.</p> + +<p>“It is a dreadful fate,” said Helen to Polly. “Oh, yes, it is a dreadful +fate, but we must not complain, for anything is better than losing him.”</p> + +<p>“Anything truly,” replied Polly. “Why, what is the matter, Flower? How +you stare.”</p> + +<p>Flower had been lying full-length on the old sofa in the school-room; +she now sprang to her feet, and came up eagerly to the two sisters.</p> + +<p>“Could a person do this,” she said, her voice trembling with +eagerness—“Could such a thing as this be done: could one give their +eyes away?”</p> + +<p>“Flower!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I mean it. Could I give my eyes to Dr. Maybright—I mean just do +nothing at all but read to him and look for him—manage so that he +should know everything just through my eyes. Can I do it? If I can, I +will.”</p> + +<p>“But, Flower, you are not father’s daughter,” said Polly in an almost +offended tone. “You speak, Flower—you speak as if he were all the world +to you.”</p> + +<p>“So he is all the world to me!” said Flower. “I owe him reparation, I +owe him just everything. Yes, Helen and Polly, I think I understand how +to keep your father from missing his eyes much. Oh, how glad I am, how +very glad I am!”</p> + +<p>From that moment Flower became more or less a changed creature. She +developed all kinds of qualities which the Maybrights had never given +her credit for. She had a degree of tact which was quite astonishing in +a child of her age. There was never a jarring note in her melodious +voice. With her impatience gone, and her fiery, passionate temper +soothed,<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_150' id='Page_150'>[Pg 150]</a></span> she was just the girl to be a charming companion to an +invalid.</p> + +<p>However restless the Doctor was, he grew quieter when Flower stole her +little hand into his; and when he was far too weak and ill and suffering +to bear any more reading aloud, he could listen to Flower as she recited +one wild ballad after another.</p> + +<p>Flower had found her mission, and she was seldom now long away from the +Doctor’s bedside.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be jealous, Polly,” said Helen. “All this is saving Flower, and +doing father good.”</p> + +<p>“There is one comfort about it,” said Polly, “that as Aunt Maria +perfectly detests poor Flower, or Daisy, as she calls her, she is not +likely to go into father’s room.”</p> + +<p>“That is true!” said Helen. “She came to the room door the other day, +but Flower was repeating ‘Hiawatha,’ and acting it a little bit—you +know she can’t help acting anything she tries to recite—and Aunt Maria +just threw up her hands and rolled her eyes, and went away.”</p> + +<p>“What a comfort!” said Polly. “Whatever happens, we must never allow the +dreadful old thing to come near father.”</p> + +<p>Alack! alas! something so bad had happened, so terrible a tragedy had +been enacted that even Flower and Hiawatha combined could no longer keep +Mrs. Cameron away from her brother-in-law’s apartment.</p> + +<p>On the second day after Scorpion’s disappearance, the good woman called +Helen aside, and spoke some words which filled her with alarm.</p> + +<p>“My dear!” she said, “I am very unhappy. The little dog, the little +sunbeam of my life, is lost. I am convinced, Helen! yes, I am convinced, +that there is foul play in the matter. You, every one of you, took a +most unwarrantable dislike to the poor, faithful little animal. Yes, +every one of you, with the exception of David, detested my Scorpion, and +I am quite certain that you all know where he now is.”</p> + +<p>“But really, Aunt Maria,” said Helen, her fair face flushing, “really, +now, you don’t seriously suppose that I had anything to say to +Scorpion’s leaving you.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know, my dear. I exonerate David. Yes, David is a good boy; he +was attached to the dog, and I quite exonerate him. But as to the rest +of you, I can only say that I wish to see your father on the subject.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Aunt Maria! you are not going to trouble father, so ill as he is, +about that poor, miserable little dog?”</p> + +<p>“Thank you, Helen! thank you! poor miserable little dog indeed. Ah! my +dear, you have let the cat out of the bag now. Yes, my dear, I insist on +seeing your father with regard to the <i>poor, miserable little dog</i>. +Poor, indeed, am I without him, my little treasure, my little faithful +Scorpion.” Here Mrs. Cameron applied her handkerchief to her eyes, and +Helen walked to the window, feeling almost driven to despair.</p> + +<p>“I think you are doing wrong!” she said, presently. “It is wrong to +disturb a man like father about any dog, however noble. I am sure I am +right in saying that we, none of us, know anything about Scorpion’s +disappearance. However, if you like, and rather than that father should +be worried, I will send for all the children, and ask them the question +one by one before you. I am absolutely sure that they won’t think +Scorpion worth a lie.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r2753' id='r2753'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_151' id='Page_151'>[Pg 151]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2><h3>FIREFLY.</h3> +</div> + +<p>Helen experienced some little difficulty in getting her scattered +brothers and sisters together. She could not get any of them to think +seriously of Scorpion’s departure. They laughed and lingered over their +own pursuits, and told Helen to her face that she made a great fuss +about nothing; in short, the best part of an hour had gone by before the +Maybrights and the two Dalrymples assembled in Mrs. Cameron’s presence +in the morning room.</p> + +<p>“It is just this, children,” said Helen. “Aunt Maria feels very low +about Scorpion; you see she loved him.” Groans here came audibly from +the lips of Bob and Bunny. “Yes!” said Helen, looking severely at her +two little brothers, “Aunt Maria did love Scorpion. She feels very +lonely without him, and she has taken an idea into her head that one or +other of you had something to say to his disappearance. Of course I know +that none of you could be so cruel and heartless, but to satisfy Aunt +Maria, I have asked you all to come here just to tell her that you did +nothing to make Scorpion run away.”</p> + +<p>“Only we are very glad he did run away!” said Bob, “but as to touching +him, why, I wouldn’t with a pair of tongs.”</p> + +<p>“I wish to say a word!” said Mrs. Cameron. She came forward, and stood +looking very flushed and angry before the assembled group. “I wish to +say that I am sure some of you in your malice deprived me of my dog. I +believe David Dalrymple to be innocent, but as to the rest of you, I may +as well say that I do not believe you, whatever you may tell me.”</p> + +<p>“Well, after that!” exclaimed all the children.</p> + +<p>“I suppose, Helen, after that we may go away?” said Firefly, who was +looking very pale.</p> + +<p>“No, Miss!” said Aunt Maria, “you must stay. Your sister Helen does not +wish me to do anything to disturb your father, but I assure you, +children, there are limits even to my patience, and I intend to visit +him this morning and tell him the whole story, unless before you leave +the room you tell me the truth.”</p> + +<p>Firefly’s sallow little face grew whiter and whiter. She glanced +imploringly at David, who looked boldly and unconcernedly back at her; +then, throwing back his head, he marched up to Mrs. Cameron’s side.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_152' id='Page_152'>[Pg 152]</a></span></p> + +<p>“You believe that <i>I</i> am innocent, don’t you?” he said.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, my dear boy. I have said so.”</p> + +<p>“In that case, perhaps you would not mind my going out a little way on +the moor and having a good look round for the dog, he <i>may</i> have +wandered there, you know, and broken his leg or something.” Mrs. Cameron +shuddered. “In any case,” continued David, with a certain air of modest +assurance, which became him very much, “it seems a pity that I should +waste time here.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly; go, my dear lad,” answered Mrs. Cameron. “Bring my little +innocent suffering treasure back with you, and I will give you half a +crown.”</p> + +<p>David instantly left the room, unheeding a short, sharp cry which issued +from Firefly’s lips as he passed her.</p> + +<p>Most of the other children were laughing; it was impossible for them to +think of anything in connection with Scorpion except as a joke.</p> + +<p>“Listen, Aunt Maria,” said Helen. “I am afraid you must not treat my +brothers and sisters as you propose. Neither must you trouble father +without the doctor’s permission. The fact is, Aunt Maria, we are +Maybrights, and every one who knows anything about us at all <i>must</i> know +that we would scorn to tell a lie. Our father and our dear, dear +mother—your sister whom you loved, Aunt Maria, and for whose sake you +are interested in us—taught us to fear a lie more than anything, <i>much</i> +more than punishment, <i>much</i> more than discovery. Oh, yes, we have heaps +and heaps of faults; we can tease, we can be passionate, and idle, and +selfish; but being Maybrights, being the children of our own father and +mother, we can’t lie. The fact is, we’d be afraid to.”</p> + +<p>Helen’s blue eyes were full of tears.</p> + +<p>“Bravo! Helen!” said Polly, going up to her sister and kissing her. “She +says just the simple truth, Aunt Maria,” she continued, flashing round +in her bright way on the old lady. “We <i>are</i> a naughty set—<i>you</i> know +that, don’t you?—but we can’t tell lies; we draw the line there.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we draw the line there,” suddenly said Firefly, in a high-pitched +voice, which sounded as if it was going to crack.</p> + +<p>“I admire bravery,” said Mrs. Cameron, after a pause. “Ask your +questions, Helen. For my dead sister’s sake I will accept the word of a +Maybright. ’Pon my word, you are extraordinary young people; but I +admire girls who are not afraid to speak out, and who uphold their +parents’ teaching. Ask the children quickly, Helen, if they know +anything about the dog, for after David’s hint about his having strayed +on that awful moor, and perhaps having broken one of his dear little +legs, I feel more uncomfortable than ever about him. For goodness’ sake, +Helen! ask your question quickly, and let me get out on the moor to look +for my dog.”</p> + +<p>“Children,” said Helen, coming forward at once, “do you<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_153' id='Page_153'>[Pg 153]</a></span> know anything +about Scorpion’s loss, <i>any</i>thing? Now, I am going to ask you each +singly; as you answer you can leave the room. Polly, I begin with you.”</p> + +<p>One by one the Maybrights and Flower answered very clear and emphatic +“No’s” to Helen’s question, and one by one they retired to wait for +their companions in the passage outside.</p> + +<p>At last Helen put the question to Firefly. Two big, green-tinted hazel +eyes were raised to her face.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Helen, I do know,” replied Firefly.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron uttered a shriek, and almost fell upon the little girl, but +Helen very gently held her back.</p> + +<p>“One minute,” she said. “Firefly, what do you know?”</p> + +<p>“I’m not going to tell you, Helen.” The child’s lips quivered, but her +eyes looked up bravely.</p> + +<p>“Why so? Please, Aunt Maria, let me speak to her. Why won’t you tell +what you know, dear Fly?”</p> + +<p>“Because I promised. There, I won’t say a word more about it. I do know, +and I won’t tell; no, I won’t ever, ever tell. You can punish me, of +course, Aunt Maria.”</p> + +<p>“So I will, Miss. Take that slap for your impertinence. Oh! if you were +my child, should not I give you a whipping. You know what has happened +to my poor <i>dear</i> little dog, and you refuse to tell. But you shall +tell—you wicked cruel little thing—you shall, you must!”</p> + +<p>“Shall I take Firefly away and question her?” asked Helen. “Please, Aunt +Maria, don’t be too stern with her. She is a timid little thing; she is +not accustomed to people blaming her. She has some reason for this, but +she will explain everything to her sister Nell, won’t you, darling?”</p> + +<p>The child’s lips were trembling, and her eyes filling with tears.</p> + +<p>“There’s no use in my going away with you, Helen,” she replied, +steadily. “I am willing Aunt Maria should punish me, but I can’t tell +because I’m a Maybright. It would be telling a lie to say what I know. I +don’t mind your punishing me rather badly, Aunt Maria.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you don’t, don’t you?” said Aunt Maria. “Listen; was not that the +sound of wheels?”</p> + +<p>“The doctor to see father,” explained Helen. “I ought to go.”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me, my dear, I particularly wish to see your father’s medical +adviser this morning. I will not detain him long, but I have a question +I wish to put to him. You stay with your little sister, Helen. I shall +be back soon.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron trotted out of the room. In about ten minutes, with an +exultant look on her face, she returned. Firefly was now clasped tightly +in Helen’s arms while she sobbed her heart out on her breast.</p> + +<p>“Well, Helen, has this <i>most</i> impertinent, naughty child confessed?”</p> + +<p>“She has not,” said Helen. “I don’t understand her; she seems in sore +trouble. Dear little Fly!”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_154' id='Page_154'>[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>“‘Dear little Fly,’ indeed! Naughty, wicked little Fly, you mean. +However, my dear, I have come to tell you that I have just had an +interview with the excellent doctor who attends your father. He has gone +up to see him now. He says he does not want to see you at all to-day, +Helen. Well, I spoke to Dr. Strong, and he was <i>astonished</i>—absolutely +astonished, when he heard that I had not yet been permitted to see my +brother-in-law. I told him quite frankly that you girls were jealous of +my influence, and used his (Dr. Strong’s) name to keep me out of my poor +brother’s room. ‘But my dear madam,’ he said, ‘the young ladies labor +under a mistake—a vast, a monstrous mistake. <i>Nothing</i> could do my poor +patient more good than to see a sensible, practical lady like yourself!’ +‘Then I may see him this afternoon?’ I asked. ‘Undoubtedly, Mrs. +Cameron,’ he replied; ‘it will be something for my patient to look +forward to.’ I have arranged then, my dear Helen, to pay a visit to your +father at three o’clock to-day.”</p> + +<p>Helen could not repress a sigh.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron raised her eyebrows with a certain suggestive and +aggravating gesture.</p> + +<p>“Ah, my dear,” she said, “you must try to keep under that jealous +temperament. Jealousy fostered in the heart overshadows and overclouds +all life. Be warned in time.”</p> + +<p>“About this child,” said Helen, drawing Firefly forward, “what is to be +done about her? You will be lenient, won’t you, Aunt Maria, for she is +very young?”</p> + +<p>“By the way,” said Mrs. Cameron, with the manner of one who had not +heard a word of Helen’s last speech, “is this naughty little girl +attached to her father?”</p> + +<p>Firefly raised her tear-dimmed face.</p> + +<p>“He is my darling——” she began.</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes, my dear; I detest exaggerated expressions. If you love him, +you can now prove it. You would not, for instance, wish to give him +anxiety, or to injure him?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, oh, no! I would rather die.”</p> + +<p>“Again that sentimental exaggeration; but you shall prove your words. If +you have not confessed to me before three o’clock to-day all you know +about the loss of my treasured dog Scorpion, I shall take you into your +father’s sick room, and in his presence dare you to keep your wicked +secret to yourself any longer.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, you don’t mean that,” said Firefly. “You can’t be so awfully cruel. +Nell, Nell, do say that Aunt Maria doesn’t mean that.”</p> + +<p>The child was trembling violently; her little face was white as death, +her appealing eyes would have softened most hearts.</p> + +<p>“Oh, Nell, what shall I do if I make father worse again? For I can’t +tell what I know; it would be a lie to tell it, and you said yourself, +Nell, that no Maybright told lies.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron smiled grimly.</p> + +<p>“I have said it,” she remarked; “it all rests with yourself, Firefly. I +shall be ready either to hear your confession or to take you to your +father at three o’clock to-day.”</p> + +<p>With these words the good lady walked out of the room.</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r8401' id='r8401'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_155' id='Page_155'>[Pg 155]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2><h3>TO THE RESCUE.</h3> +</div> + +<p>An hour later a wildly anxious and disconsolate little figure might have +been seen knocking at Polly’s door. No answer from within. A moment of +suspense on the part of the little figure, followed by another and +louder knock; then the small, nervous fingers turned the handle of the +door, and Firefly pushed her head in and peered anxiously round.</p> + +<p>Oh, dear! oh, dear! No Polly was in the room. And why did the great +eight-day clock in the hall strike twelve? Why, on this morning of all +mornings, should time go on wings? Firefly had great faith in Polly’s +powers of helping her. But the moments were too precious to waste them +in trying to find her. She had another search to make, and she must set +out at once. No, not quite at once. She clasped her hands to her beating +little heart as an idea came to her on which she might act. A delicious +and yet most sorrowful idea, which would fill her with the keenest pain, +and yet give her the very sweetest consolation. She would go and get a +kiss from her father before she set out on the search, which might be a +failure. Very swiftly she turned, flew down the long gallery which led +to Dr. Maybright’s room, and went in.</p> + +<p>Dr. Strong had paid his visit and gone away. Firefly’s heart gave a +bound of delight, for her father was alone. He was lying supported high +in bed with pillows. His almost sightless eyes were not bandaged, they +were simply closed; his hands, with their long, sensitive, purposeful +fingers lay on the white sheets in a restful attitude. Already the acute +hearing of the blind had come to him, and as Firefly glided up to the +bedside, he turned his head quickly. Her two small hands went with a +kind of bound into one of his. His fingers closed over them.</p> + +<p>“This is my Fly,” said the Doctor; “a very excited and feverish Fly, +too. How these small fingers flutter! What is it, my darling?”</p> + +<p>“A kiss, father,” said Fly, “a great <i>hug</i> of a kiss! please, please. I +want it so awfully badly.”</p> + +<p>“Climb up on the bed, and put your arms round me. Is that all right? My +dear little one, you are not well.”</p> + +<p>“I’m quite well, now, while I’m loving you. Oh! aren’t you just the +darlingest of all darling fathers? There, another kiss; and another! Now +I’m better.”</p> + +<p>She glided off the bed, pressed two long, last fervent embraces on the +Doctor’s white hand, and rushed out of the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_156' id='Page_156'>[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p>“I’m lots stronger now,” she said to herself. “<i>Whatever</i> happens, I’ll +have those kisses to hold on to and remember; but nothing shall happen, +for I’m going to find David; he is sure to put things right for me.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Polly’s absence from her room was accounted for, also the +fact of Fly finding her father alone. It was seldom that this dearly +loved and favorite father, physician, and friend, was left to indulge in +solitude. It was the privilege of all privileges to sit by him, read to +him, and listen to his talk; and a girl, generally two girls, occupied +the coveted chairs by his bedside. On this morning, however, poor Helen +was detained, first by Aunt Maria, and then by necessary housekeeping +cares; and Polly and Flower were deeply engrossed over a matter of +considerable importance.</p> + +<p>When Polly had replied in the negative to Helen’s question, she lingered +for a moment in the passage outside the morning-room, then started off +to find Nurse and little Pearl. Flower, however, waited with a feeling +of curiosity, or perhaps something more, to hear what the others would +say. She was witness, therefore, through the open door, of Firefly’s +curious mixture of avowal and denial, and when Mrs. Cameron went away to +consult the doctor who attended Dr. Maybright, she coolly waited in an +adjoining room, and when the good woman returned, once more placed +herself within earshot. No Maybright would dream of eavesdropping, but +Flower’s upbringing had been decidedly lax with regard to this and other +matters.</p> + +<p>In full possession, therefore, of the facts of the catastrophe which was +to overpower poor little Fly and injure Dr. Maybright, she rushed off to +find Polly. Polly was feeling intensely happy, playing with and fondling +her sweet little baby sister, when Flower, pale and excited, rushed into +the room. Nurse, who had not yet forgiven Flower, turned her back upon +the young lady, and hummed audibly. Flower, however, was far too much +absorbed to heed her.</p> + +<p>“Listen, Polly! you have got to come with me at once. Give baby back to +Nurse. You must come with me directly.”</p> + +<p>“If it is anything more about Scorpion, I refuse to stir,” answered +Polly. “If there is a creature in this world whom I absolutely loathe, +it’s that detestable little animal!”</p> + +<p>“You don’t hate him more than I do,” said Flower. “My news is about him. +Still, you must come, for it also means Firefly and your father. They’ll +both get into awful trouble—I know they will—if we don’t save them.”</p> + +<p>“What?” said Polly; “what? Take baby, please, Nurse. Now, what is it, +Flower?” pulling her outside the nursery door. “What <i>has</i> that horrid +Scorpion to do with Fly and father?”</p> + +<p>“Only this: Fly has confessed that she knows what has become of him, but +she’s a dear little brick and won’t tell. She says she’s a Maybright, +and they don’t tell lies. Three cheers for the Maybrights, if they are +all like Fly, say I!<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_157' id='Page_157'>[Pg 157]</a></span> Well, the little love won’t tell, and Mrs. Cameron +is fit to dance, and what does she do but gets leave from Dr. Strong to +see your father, and she’s going to drag Fly before him at three o’clock +to-day, and make a fine story of what happened. She holds it over Fly +that your father will be made very ill again. Very likely he will, if +<i>we</i> don’t prevent it.”</p> + +<p>“It’s horrible!” said Polly; “but <i>how</i> can we prevent it, Flower?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, easily enough. <i>You</i> must guard your father’s room. Let no one in +under any pretense whatever until I have found David.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by finding David? What can David have to say to it?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! has he not? Poor Fly! David has got her into his toils. David is at +the bottom of all this, I am convinced. I guessed it the moment I saw +him go up so boldly to Mrs. Cameron and pretend to be sorry about the +dog. <i>He</i> sorry about Scorpion! He hates him more than any of us.”</p> + +<p>“But then—I don’t understand; if that is so, David told a deliberate +lie, Flower.”</p> + +<p>Flower colored.</p> + +<p>“We have not been brought up like the Maybrights,” she said. “Oh, yes, +<i>we</i> could tell a lie; we were not brought up to be particular about +good things, or to avoid bad things. We were brought up—well, just +anyhow.”</p> + +<p>Polly stole up to Flower and kissed her.</p> + +<p>“I am glad you have come to learn of my father,” she said. “Now do tell +me what we are to do for poor, poor Fly. Do you think David is guilty, +and that he has got Fly to promise not to tell?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, that is what I think. David must be found, and got to confess, and +so release Fly of her promise before three o’clock. David is a dreadful +boy to find when he takes it into his head to hide on purpose; but I +must look for him, and in the meantime will you guard your father, +Polly?”</p> + +<p>“As a dragon,” said Polly. “You may trust me about that at least. I will +go to his room at once to make all things safe, for there is really no +trusting Aunt Maria when she has a scheme of vengeance with regard to +<i>that dog</i> in her head. Good-by, Flower; I’m off to father.”</p> + +<p>Polly turned away, and Flower ran quickly downstairs. She knew she had +not a moment to lose, for David, as she expressed it, was a very +difficult boy to find when he took it into his head to hide himself.</p> + +<p>Flower had not been on the moor since that dreadful day when she had +taken the baby away. So much had happened since then, so many dreadful +things had come to pass, that she shuddered at the bare thought of the +great and desolate moorland. Nevertheless she guessed that David would +hide there, and without a moment’s hesitation turned her steps in the +direction of Peg-Top Moor. She had walked for nearly half an hour, and +had reached rather a broad extent of<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_158' id='Page_158'>[Pg 158]</a></span> table-land, when she saw—their +little figures plainly visible against the sky—two children, nearly a +quarter of a mile away, eagerly talking together. There was not the +least doubt as to their identity; the children—a boy and a girl—were +David and Fly. Fly was holding David’s arm, and gesticulating and +talking eagerly; David’s head was turned away. Flower quickened her +steps almost into a run. If only she could reach the two before they +parted; above all things, if she could reach them before David saw her!</p> + +<p>Alas and alas! she was too late for this. David suddenly pushed his +little companion a couple of feet away from him, and to all appearance +vanished into the solid ground.</p> + +<p>Fly, crying bitterly, began to run to meet Flower. Flower held out her +arms as the little girl approached.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Firefly? Tell me, has David confessed?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what do you know about it, Flower? Oh, what am I to do, what am I +to do?”</p> + +<p>“You are to go quietly home,” said Flower, speaking in a voice of +authority. “You are to go quietly home, and leave this matter in my +hands. I know all about it, and just what David has done. He has bound +you by a sort of oath, you poor little thing—you dear, brave little +thing! Never mind, Fly; you leave David to me. I expect I shall find him +now—that is, if you don’t keep me too long talking. Go home, and leave +matters to me.”</p> + +<p>“But Flower—Flower, you do comfort me a little; but Flower, it will +soon be three o’clock, and then—and then—oh, dear father! Oh, it is so +dreadful!”</p> + +<p>“No, you silly mite; it is not dreadful at all. Polly is in charge of +the Doctor. She is sitting with him now, and the door is locked, and the +key is in Polly’s pocket, and she has promised me not to open that door +to any one—no, Fly, not to a hundred of your Aunt Marias—until I bring +David home.”</p> + +<p>Fly’s face underwent a transformation. Her big eyes looked full up into +Flower’s. A smile flitted across her quivering lips. With a sudden, +passionate gesture, she stooped down and kissed Flower’s fingers, then +ran obediently back in the direction of Sleepy Hollow.</p> + +<p>“She is a perfect little darling!” said Flower to herself. “If Master +David does not rue it for making her suffer, my name is not Flower +Dalrymple.”</p> + +<p>She ran on swiftly. She was always very quick and light in her +movements. Soon she came to the place where David had to all appearance +disappeared. She did not stay there long. She ran on to where the +bracken grew thick and long, then suddenly lay flat down on the ground, +and pressed her ear close to Mother Earth. What she heard did not +satisfy her. She rose again, repeating the same process several times. +Suddenly her eyes brightened; she raised her head, and listened +attentively, then she whistled a long peculiar note. There was no +answer, but Flower’s face retained its watchful, intent expression. She +laid her head down once more close to the ground, and began to speak, +“David, David, I know you are there; there is no use in your hiding. +Come here, I want you, I, Flower. I will give you two minutes, David; if +you don’t come then I’ll keep the threat I made when you made me angry +with you at Ballarat.”</p> + +<p>A perfect silence followed Flower’s words. She still lay flat on the +ground. One of the minutes flew by.</p> + +<p>“I’ll keep my word, David!” she said again. “You know me; you know what +my threat means. Three-quarters of a minute more, half a minute, then +I’ll go home, and I’ll do what I said I would do when you made me angry +at Ballarat.”</p> + +<p>Again there was silence, but this time quickly broken; a boy’s black +head appeared above the bracken, a little brown hand was held out, and +David, without troubling himself to move a hair’s breadth, looked full +into his sister’s face.</p> + +<p>“I don’t want to lose you, Flower!” he said. “You are the only person in +all the world I care two-pence about. Now what’s the row?”</p> + +<p>“You’re a cowardly boy, David, and I’m ashamed of you; come with me this +minute.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r3468' id='r3468'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_159' id='Page_159'>[Pg 159]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2><h3>OH, FIE! POLLY.</h3> +</div> + +<p>While these events were taking place, and the children in their various +ways were preparing check-mate for Aunt Maria Cameron, that good lady +was having a by no means unexciting experience of her own. After her +housekeeping cares were over, after she had interviewed Mrs. Power, and +made Alice thoroughly uncomfortable; after, in short, meaning it all the +while for the best, she had succeeded in jarring the whole household +machinery to the utmost, it was her custom morning after morning to +retire with Scorpion into the seldom used drawing-room, and there, +seated comfortably in an old-fashioned arm-chair, with her feet well +supported on a large cushion, and the dog on her lap, to devote herself +to worsted work. Not crewel work, not church embroidery, not anything +which would admit of the use of modern art colors, but genuine, +old-fashioned worsted work. Mrs. Cameron delighted in the flaring +scarlets, pinks, greens, blues, and mauves of thirty years ago. She +admired with all her soul the hard, staring flowers which these colors +produced. They looked, she said, substantial and durable. They <i>looked</i> +like artificial flowers; nobody could mistake them for the real article, +which was occasionally known to be the case with that flimsy, in her +opinion, ugly, art embroidery. No, no, Mrs. Cameron would not be smitten +by the art craze. “Let nature <i>be</i> nature!” she would say, “and worsted +work be worsted work, and don’t let us try to clash the poor things<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_160' id='Page_160'>[Pg 160]</a></span> +into one, as that wretched art-school is always endeavoring to do.” So +each morning Mrs. Cameron plied her worsted needle, and Scorpion +slumbered peacefully on her knee. She liked to sit with her back to the +light, so that it should fall comfortably on her work, and her own eyes +be protected from an extensive and very beautiful view of the south +moor.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron hated the moor; it gave her, as she expressed it, “the +creeps,” and on all occasions she avoided looking at it. On this +morning, as usual, she took out her large roll of worsted work, and +prepared to ground a huge, impossible arum lily. Her thoughts, however, +were not, as usual, with her work. Her cheeks were flushed, and her +whole face expressed annoyance and anxiety.</p> + +<p>“How I miss even his dear little playful bite!” she said aloud, a big +tear falling on her empty lap. “Ah, my Scorpion! why did I love you, but +to lose you? How true are the poet’s words:</p> + +<p class='in'>‘I never loved a dear gazelle.’</p> + +<p>Well, I must say it, I seldom came across more wicked, heartless +children than the Maybrights and Daisy Rymple. David is really the only +one of the bunch worth rearing. Ah, my poor sister! your removal has +doubtless spared you many sorrows, for what could you expect of the +future of such a family as yours? Now, what is that? This moor is enough +to keep anybody’s nerves in a state of tension. What <i>is</i> that awful +sound approaching the house?“</p> + +<p>The noise in question was the unmistakable one of a woman’s loud +sobbing. It came nearer and nearer, gaining in fullness and volume as it +approached the house.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron was always intensely curious. She threw open the +drawing-room window; and as the sufferer approached, effectually stopped +her progress with her own stout person.</p> + +<p>“Now, my dear, good creature, what is this most unpleasant sound? Don’t +you know that it is frightfully bad-mannered to cry in that loud, +unrestrained fashion? Pray restrain yourself. You are quite childish. +You cannot know what real affliction means. Now, if you had lost +a—a—— If, my poor woman, you had lost a dear little dog!”</p> + +<p>“Is it a dog?” gasped Mrs. Ricketts, for it was she. “Is it a dog? Oh, +my word! Much you know about ’flictions and such-like! Let me go to the +house, ma‘am. It isn’t to you as I has come to tell my tale.”</p> + +<p>“Then let me inform you that you are going to tell it to no one else. +Here I stand, and here I remain until you choose to explain to me the +reason of your loud bursts of uncontrollable grief. During the illness +of its master I am the mistress here, and either you speak to me or you +go home.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ricketts had by this time so far restrained her sobs<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_161' id='Page_161'>[Pg 161]</a></span> as to be able +to take a long and very acute glance at the lady in question. Doubtless +she was face to face with the formidable Mrs. Cameron, that terrible +personage who had got her Maggie dismissed, and who had locked up poor +darling Miss Polly for days in her bedroom.</p> + +<p>There was no one, perhaps, in the world whom Mrs. Ricketts more +cordially disliked than this good lady, but all the same, it was now her +policy to propitiate her. She smoothed, therefore, her brow, dried her +eyes, and, with a profound courtesy, began her tale.</p> + +<p>“Ef you please, ma‘am, it’s this way; it’s my character that’s at stake. +I always was, and always will be, honest of the honest. ’Ard I works, +ma‘am, and the bread of poverty I eats, but honest I am, and honest I +brings up those fatherless lambs, my children.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron waved one of her fat hands impressively.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me, my good woman. I am really not interested in your family. +Pray come to the point, and then go home.”</p> + +<p>“To the p’int, ma‘am? Oh, yes, I’ll come to the p’int. This is the p’int +ef you please, ma‘am,” and she suddenly thrust, almost into Mrs. +Cameron’s dazzled face, the splendid gleam and glitter of a large unset +diamond. “This is the p’int, ma‘am; this is what’s to take my character +away, and the bread out of the mouths of my innocent children.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron never considered herself a worldly woman. She was +undoubtedly a very Christian-minded, charitable, good woman, but all the +same, she loved fine houses and big dinners and rich apparel, and above +all things she adored jewelry. Flowers—that is, natural flowers—had +never yet drawn a smile out of her. She had never pined for them or +valued them, but jewels, ah! they were worth possessing. She quite +gasped now, as she realized the value of the gem which Mrs. Ricketts so +unceremoniously thrust under her nose.</p> + +<p>“A diamond! Good gracious! How did you come by it? A most valuable +diamond of extraordinary size. Give it to me this moment, my good dear +creature! and come into the drawing-room. You can step in by this open +window. We won’t be disturbed in here. I suppose you were weeping in +that loud and violent manner at the thought of the grief of the person +who had lost this treasure?”</p> + +<p>“No, ma‘am, I were a sobbing at the grief of her what <i>’ad</i> it. Oh, my +word! And the young lady said for sure as I’d get nine-and-fourpence +halfpenny for it. No, ma‘am, I won’t go into the ’ouse, thank you. Oh, +dear! oh, dear! the young lady did set store by it, and said for certain +I’d get my nine-and-fourpence halfpenny back, but when I took the stone +to the shop to-day, and asked the baker to give me some bread and let +this go partly to pay the account, he stared at me and said as I wasn’t +honest, and he thrust it back in my hand. Oh, dearie me! oh, dearie me! +the foreign young lady shouldn’t have done it!”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_162' id='Page_162'>[Pg 162]</a></span></p> + +<p>“<i>I</i> am very sure that you’re honest, my good creature! Now, do tell me +about this stone. How did you come by it?”</p> + +<p>“It was the young lady, ma‘am; the young lady from Australia.”</p> + +<p>“Daisy Rymple, do you mean?”</p> + +<p>“Miss Flower she called herself, ma‘am. She come to me in sore plight +late one evening, when we was all in bed, and ‘Mrs. Ricketts,’ said she, +dear lamb, ‘will you help me to go away to Mrs. Cameron, to Bath? I want +the money to go third class to Bath. Can you let me have nine shillings +and fourpence halfpenny, Mrs. Ricketts? and I’ll give you this for the +money!’ and she flashed that bit of a glittering stone right up into my +eyes. My word, I thought as I was blinded by it. ‘You’ll get most like +two pounds for it, Mrs. Ricketts,’ she said, ‘for my father told me it +was worth a sight of money.’ That’s how I come by it, ma‘am, and that’s +the way I was treated about it to-day.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron slowly drew out her purse.</p> + +<p>“I will give you two sovereigns for the stone!” she said. “There, take +them and go home, and say nothing about the money. It will be the worse +for you if you do; now go quickly home.”</p> + +<p>Mrs. Ricketts’ broad face was one glow of delight. She dropped another +courtesy, and tried to articulate some words of thanks, but Mrs. Cameron +had already disappeared into the drawing-room, where she now sat, +holding the diamond in the palm of her open hand.</p> + +<p>She knew enough about precious stones to guess at something of its +probable value. The idea of in this way possessing herself of Flower’s +diamond never for a moment entered her head, but she was worldly-minded +enough to wish that it could be her own, and she could not help owning +to a feeling of satisfaction, even to a sense of compensation for the +loss of Scorpion, while she held the beautiful glittering thing in her +open palm.</p> + +<p>Even Flower rose in her estimation when she found that she had possessed +a gem so brilliant. A girl who could have such a treasure and so lightly +part with it was undoubtedly a simpleton—but she was a simpleton who +ought to be guarded and prized—the sort of young innocent who should be +surrounded by protecting friends. Mrs. Cameron felt her interest in +Flower growing and growing. Suppose she offered to release the Doctor of +this wearisome burden. Suppose she undertook the care of Flower and her +diamond herself.</p> + +<p>No sooner did this thought occur to Mrs. Cameron, than she resolved to +act upon it. Of course the Doctor would be delighted to part with +Flower. She would see him on the subject at once.</p> + +<p>She went slowly upstairs and knocked with a calm, steady hand at the +door of the dressing-room which opened into Dr. Maybright’s apartment. +No sound or reply of any kind came<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_163' id='Page_163'>[Pg 163]</a></span> from within. She listened for a +moment, then knocked again, then tried to turn the handle of the door. +It resisted her pressure, being locked from within.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron raised her voice. She was not a person who liked to be +opposed, and that locked door, joined to that most exasperating silence, +became more than trying. Surely the Doctor was not deaf as well as +blind. Surely he must hear her loud demands, even though a dressing-room +stood between his room and the suppliant without.</p> + +<p>And surely the Doctor would have heard, for a more polite man never +lived, were it not for that all mischievous and irrepressible Polly. But +she, being left in charge, had set her sharp brains to work, and had +devised a plan to outwit Mrs. Cameron. The dressing-room in question +contained a double baize door. This door was seldom or never used, but +it came in very conveniently now, for the furtherance of Polly’s plan. +When it was shut, and thick curtains also drawn across, and when, in +addition, the door leading into Dr. Maybright’s room was securely +fastened and curtained off, Polly felt sure that she and her father +might pass their morning in delicious quietude. Not hearing Mrs. +Cameron, she argued with herself that no one <i>could</i> possibly blame her +for not letting her in. Therefore, in high good humor, this young lady +sat down to read, work, and chatter gayly. As the Doctor listened, he +said to himself that surely there never was in the world a sweeter or +more agreeable companion than his Polly.</p> + +<p>With all her precautions, however, as the hours flew by, sundry muffled +and distant sounds did penetrate to the sick chamber.</p> + +<p>“What a peculiar noise!” remarked the Doctor.</p> + +<p>“Can it be mice?” queried Polly’s <i>most</i> innocent voice.</p> + +<p>More time passed.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the sharp and unmistakable sound of gravel being flung against +the window forced the young lady to go to ascertain what was the matter.</p> + +<p>On looking out, she saw what caused her to utter an amazed exclamation.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Cameron, very red in the face, and holding the lost Scorpion in one +encircling arm, while the other was thrown firmly round a most +sulky-looking David; Firefly, pale and with traces of tears on her face; +Flower, looking excited and eager—all stood under the window. This +group were loud in demanding instant admission to the Doctor’s room.</p> + +<p>“What is it, what is it?” questioned the patient from the bed.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you are <i>not</i> strong enough to see them, father.”</p> + +<p>“To see whom?”</p> + +<p>“Aunt Maria—Scorpion—the children.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am quite strong enough. Let them come up at once.”</p> + +<p>“But father!”<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_164' id='Page_164'>[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + +<p>“But Polly! You don’t suppose seriously that your Aunt Maria can disturb +my equanimity?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! She will worry you with so many tales.”</p> + +<p>“About my very naughty family?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes; you had much better not see her.”</p> + +<p>“Because she wants me to get a chaperon for you?”</p> + +<p>“Oh! yes—oh! don’t see her.”</p> + +<p>“My dear, you can trust me; you happen to be <i>my</i> children, not hers. I +would rather have the matter out. I knew there was something wrong from +the way little Fly kissed my hand this morning. Show the deputation +outside the window into the audience chamber at once, Polly.”</p> + +<p>So admonished, the curtains had to be drawn back, the baize door +reopened, and Polly—a most unwilling hostess—had to receive her +guests. But no words can describe the babel of sounds which there and +then filled the Doctor’s room; no words can tell how patiently the blind +man listened.</p> + +<p>Aunt Maria had a good tale to tell, and it lost nothing in the telling. +The story of Scorpion’s disappearance; of the wickedness of David and +Fly; of the recovering of the little animal from the man who had bought +it, through Flower’s instrumentality; all this she told, following up +with the full and particular history of the sale of a valuable diamond. +At last—at long last—the good lady stopped for want of breath.</p> + +<p>There was a delicious pause, then the Doctor said, quietly:</p> + +<p>“In short, Maria, you have never come across such absolutely wicked +children as the Maybrights and Dalrymples?”</p> + +<p>“No, Andrew—never! never!”</p> + +<p>“It is lucky they are not your children?”</p> + +<p>“Thank Heaven!”</p> + +<p>“Would it not be well to leave them to me? I am accustomed to them.”</p> + +<p>“Yes; I wash my hands of you all; or no—not quite of you all—I heap +coals of fire on your head, Andrew; I offer to relieve you of the charge +of Daisy Rymple.”</p> + +<p>“Of Flower?—but she is one of the worst of us.”</p> + +<p>Here Flower ran over, crouched down by the Doctor, and put one of her +hands into his.</p> + +<p>“But I will be good with you,” she said with a half-sob.</p> + +<p>“Hear her,” said the Doctor. “She says she will be good with me. +Perhaps, after all, Maria, I <i>can</i> manage my own children better than +any one else can.”</p> + +<p>“Daisy is not your child—you had better give her to me.”</p> + +<p>“I can’t part with Flower; she is an excellent reader. I am a blind man, +but she scarcely allows me to miss my eyes.”</p> + +<p>Flower gave a low ecstatic sob.</p> + +<p>“And you will allow her to part with valuable gems like this?”</p> + +<p>“Thanks to you, Maria, she has recovered her diamond.”</p> + +<p>“Andrew, I never met such an obstinate, such a misguided man! Are you +really going to bring up these unfortunate children without a +chaperon?”</p> + +<p>“I think you must allow us to be good <i>and</i> naughty in our own way.”</p> + +<p>“Father is looking very tired, Aunt Maria,” here whispered Polly.</p> + +<p>“My dear, <i>I</i> am never going to fatigue him more. Andrew, I wash my +hands of your affairs. Daisy, take your diamond. At least, my little +precious dog, I have recovered <i>you</i>. We return to Bath by the next +train.”</p> + + +<hr class='major' /> +<div class='figcenter' style='padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;'> +<a name='r9012' id='r9012'></a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_165' id='Page_165'>[Pg 165]</a></span> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2><h3>ONE YEAR AFTER.</h3> +</div> + +<p>“Helen, here’s a letter.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Who is it for?”</p> + +<p>“I think it’s for us all. See: ‘the Misses Maybright and Miss +Dalrymple.’”</p> + +<p>“Well, where’s Flower? We can’t open it till Flower comes down. It must +be—yes, it must be about father! You know it was yesterday his eyes +were to be operated on.”</p> + +<p>“As if I didn’t know it, Nell! I never closed my eyes last night. I felt +nearly as bad as that awful day a year ago now. I wish I might tear open +this envelope. Where is Flower? Need we wait for her?”</p> + +<p>“It would be unkind not to wait! No one feels about father as Flower +does.”</p> + +<p>“David, please call her this instant!”</p> + +<p>David flew out of the room, and Polly began to finger the precious +letter.</p> + +<p>“It’s thick,” she said; “but I don’t think there’s much writing inside. +Yes,” she continued, “Flower is certainly very sensitive about father. +She’s a dear girl. All the same, I’m sometimes jealous of her.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, dear Polly! why?”</p> + +<p>“Father thinks so much of her. Yes, I know it’s wrong, but I do feel a +little sore now and then. Not often though, and never when I look into +Flower’s lovely eyes.”</p> + +<p>“She is very sweet with father,” said Helen. “It seems to me that during +this past year she has given up her very life to him. And did you ever +hear any one read better?”</p> + +<p>“No, that’s one of the reasons why I’m devoured with jealousy. Don’t +talk to me about it, it’s an enemy I haven’t yet learnt to overcome. Ah! +here she comes.”</p> + +<p>“<i>And</i> Fly, <i>and</i> the twins!” echoed Helen. “Here’s a letter from +father, Flower. At least, we think so. It’s directed to us and to you.”</p> + +<p>A tall, very fair girl, with soft, shining eyes, and a wonderful mane of +yellow hair came up and put her arm round Polly’s neck. She did not +smile, her face was grave, her voice shook a little.</p> + +<p>“Open the letter, Helen,” she exclaimed impatiently.</p> + +<p>“Don’t tremble so, Flower,” said Polly.<span class='pagenum'><a name='Page_166' id='Page_166'>[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p>But she herself only remained quiet by a great effort, as Helen +unfastened the thick envelope, opened the sheet of paper, and held it up +for many eager pairs of eyes to read:</p> + +<p class='in'> +“<span class='smcap'>My Children</span>:—I see again, thank God.<br /> +<span style='margin-left: 10em;'>“Your Father and loving Friend.”</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>“There!” said Polly. “Oh, I can’t talk about it. Flower, you are silly +to cry. Will no one dance a hornpipe with me? I’ll choke if I don’t +laugh. You’re the one to dance, Fly. Why, you are crying, too. +Ridiculous! Where’s the letter? Let’s kiss it all round. That’ll make us +better. His own blessed writing! Isn’t he a darling? Was there ever such +a father?”</p> + +<p>“Or such a friend?” exclaimed Flower. “I said long ago, and I say again +now, that he’s the best man in the world, and I do really think that +some day he’ll turn me into a good girl.”</p> + +<p>“Why, you’re the nicest girl I know now,” said Polly.</p> + +<p>And then they kissed each other.</p> + +<p style='text-align:center; margin-bottom: 3em'>THE END</p> + +<hr class='full' /> + +<div class='tnote'><h3>Transcriber’s Notes</h3> +<p>1. Punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards.</p> +<p>2. Frontispiece relocated to after title page.</p> +<p>3. Typographic errors corrected in original:<br/> + p. 7 aways to always (“always did think”)<br/> + p. 8 breat-and-butter to bread-and-butter<br/> + p. 102 nuseries to nurseries (“to the nurseries”)<br/> + p. 154 by to my (“jealous of my influence”)<br/> + p. 159 life to like (“looked like artificial flowers”)</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Polly, by L. T. 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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: Polly + A New-Fashioned Girl + +Author: L. T. Meade + +Release Date: June 23, 2006 [EBook #18666] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLY *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +POLLY +A NEW-FASHIONED GIRL + +BY +L. T. MEADE + +Author of "A World of Girls," "Daddy's Girl," +"Light of the Morning," "Palace Beautiful," +"A Girl in Ten Thousand," etc. + +NEW YORK +THE NEW YORK BOOK COMPANY +1910 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +[Illustration: Polly] + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +"But if thou wilt be constant then, + And faithful of thy word, +I'll make thee glorious by my pen + And famous by my sword. +I'll serve thee in such noble ways + Was never heard before: +I'll crown and deck thee all with bays + And love thee evermore." + + --James Graham. + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +CONTENTS + +PART I +CHAPTER I. A GREAT MISFORTUNE. 1 +CHAPTER II. ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY. 4 +CHAPTER III. "BE BRAVE, DEAR." 6 +CHAPTER IV. QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME. 10 +CHAPTER V. A SAFETY-VALVE. 13 +CHAPTER VI. POLLY'S RAID. 16 +CHAPTER VII. THE GROWN-UPS. 19 +CHAPTER VIII. SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME? 24 +CHAPTER IX. LIMITS. 28 +CHAPTER X. INDIGESTION WEEK. 32 +CHAPTER XI. A--WAS AN APPLE PIE. 36 +CHAPTER XII. POTATOES--MINUS POINT. 42 +CHAPTER XIII. IN THE ATTIC. 45 +CHAPTER XIV. AUNT MARIA. 50 +CHAPTER XV. PUNISHMENT. 55 +CHAPTER XVI. DR. MAYBRIGHT _versus_ SCORPION. 60 +CHAPTER XVII. WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN? 64 +CHAPTER XVIII. THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES. 68 +CHAPTER XIX. DISTRESSED HEROINES. 73 +CHAPTER XX. LIMITS. 75 +CHAPTER XXI. THE HIGH MOUNTAINS. 78 + +PART II +CHAPTER I. A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS. 82 +CHAPTER II. A YOUNG QUEEN. 86 +CHAPTER III. NOT LIKE OTHERS. 94 +CHAPTER IV. A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN. 98 +CHAPTER V. FORSAKEN. 103 +CHAPTER VI. WITHOUT HER TREASURE. 108 +CHAPTER VII. MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE. 113 +CHAPTER VIII. THE HERMIT'S HUT. 117 +CHAPTER IX. AN OLD SONG. 121 +CHAPTER X. LOOKING AT HERSELF. 126 +CHAPTER XI. THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND. 131 +CHAPTER XII. RELICS AND A WELCOME. 135 +CHAPTER XIII. VERY ROUGH WEATHER. 139 +CHAPTER XIV. A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. 144 +CHAPTER XV. A DILEMMA. 149 +CHAPTER XVI. FIREFLY. 151 +CHAPTER XVII. TO THE RESCUE. 155 +CHAPTER XVIII. OH, FIE! POLLY. 159 +CHAPTER XIX. ONE YEAR AFTER. 165 + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + +POLLY: +A NEW-FASHIONED GIRL. + +CHAPTER I. + +A GREAT MISFORTUNE. + + +It was an intensely hot July day--not a cloud appeared in the high blue +vault of the sky; the trees, the flowers, the grasses, were all +motionless, for not even the gentlest zephyr of a breeze was abroad; the +whole world seemed lapped in a sort of drowsy, hot, languorous slumber. +Even the flowers bowed their heads a little weariedly, and the birds +after a time ceased singing, and got into the coolest and most shady +parts of the great forest trees. There they sat and talked to one +another of the glorious weather, for they liked the heat, although it +made them too lazy to sing. + +It was an open plain of country, and although there were clumps of trees +here and there, great clumps with cool shade under them, there were also +acres and acres of common land on which the sun beat remorselessly. This +land was covered with heather, not yet in flower, and with bracken, +which was already putting on its autumn glory of yellow and red. Neither +the bracken nor the heather minded the July heat, but the butterflies +thought it a trifle uncomfortable, and made for the clumps of trees, and +looked longingly and regretfully at what had been a noisy, babbling +little brook, but was now a dry and stony channel, deserted even by the +dragon-flies. + +At the other side of the brook was a hedge, composed principally of wild +roses and hawthorn bushes, and beyond the hedge was a wide dyke, and at +the top of the dyke a wire paling, and beyond that again, a good-sized +vegetable garden. + +From the tops of the trees, had any one been energetic enough to climb +up there, or had any bird been sufficiently endowed with curiosity to +glance his bright eyes in that direction, might have been seen smoke, +ascending straight up into the air, and proceeding from the kitchen +chimneys of a square-built gray house. + +The house was nearly covered with creepers, and had a trellis porch, +sheltering and protecting its open hall-door. Pigeons were cooing near, +and several dogs were lying flat out in the shade which the wide eaves +of the house afforded. There was a flower garden in front, and a wide +gravel sweep, and a tennis court and croquet lawn, and a rose arbor, and +even a great, wide, cool-looking tent. But as far as human life was +concerned the whole place looked absolutely deserted. The pigeons cooed +languidly, and the dogs yapped and yawned, and made ferocious snaps at +audacious and troublesome flies. But no one handled the tennis bats, nor +took up the croquet mallets; no one stopped to admire the roses, and no +one entered the cool, inviting tent. The whole place might have been +dead, as far as human life was concerned; and although the smoke did +ascend straight up from the kitchen chimney, a vagrant or a tramp might +have been tempted to enter the house by the open hall door, were it not +protected by the lazy dogs. + +Up, however, by the hedge, at the other side of the kitchen garden, +could be heard just then the crackle of a bough, the rustle of a dress, +and a short, smothered, impatient exclamation. And had anyone peered +very close they would have seen lying flat in the long grasses a tall, +slender, half-grown girl, with dark eyes and rosy cheeks, and tangled +curly rebellious locks. She had one arm raised, and was drawing herself +deliberately an inch at a time along the smooth grass. Several birds had +taken refuge in this fragrant hedge of hawthorn and wild roses. They +were talking to one another, keeping up a perpetual chatter; but +whenever the girl stirred a twig, or disturbed a branch, they stopped, +looking around them in alarm, but none of them as yet seeing the prone, +slim figure, which was, indeed, almost covered by the grasses. Perfect +stillness once more--the birds resumed their conversation, and the girl +made another slight movement forward. This time she disturbed no twig, +and interrupted none of the bird gossip. She was near, very near, a +tempting green bough, and on the bough sat two full-grown lovely +thrushes; they were not singing, but were holding a very gentle and +affectionate conversation, sitting close together, and looking at one +another out of their bright eyes, and now and then kissing each other +with that loving little peck which means a great deal in bird life. + +The girl felt her heart beating with excitement--the birds were within +a few inches of her--she could see their breasts heaving as they +talked. Her own eyes were as bright as theirs with excitement; she got +quite under them, made a sudden upward, dexterous movement, and laid a +warm, detaining hand on each thrush. The deed was done--the little +prisoners were secured. She gave a low laugh of ecstasy, and sitting +upright in the long grass, began gently to fondle her prey, cooing as +she talked to them, and trying to coax the terrified little prisoners to +accept some kisses from her dainty red lips. + +"Poll! Where's Polly Parrot?--Poll--Poll--Poll!" came a chorus of +voices. "Poll, you're wanted at the house this minute. Where are you +hiding?--You're wanted at home this minute! Polly Parrot--where are +you, Polly?" + +"Oh, bother!" exclaimed the girl under her breath; "then I must let you +go, darlings, and I never, never had two of you in my arms at the same +moment before. It's always so. I'm always interrupted when I'm enjoying +ecstasy. Well, good-by, sweets. Be happy--bless you, darlings!" + +She blew a kiss to the released and delighted thrushes, and stood +upright, looking very lanky and cross and disreputable, with bits of +grass and twig sticking in her hair, and messing and staining her faded, +washed cotton frock. + +"Now, what are you up to, you scamps?--can't you let a body be?" + +"Oh, Polly!" + +Two little figures came tumbling down the gravel walk at the other side +of the wire fence. They were hot and panting, and both destitute of +hats. + +"Polly, you're wanted at the house. Helen says so; there's a b-b-baby +come. Polly Perkins--Poll Parrot, you'd better come home at once, +there's a new b-b-baby just come!" + +"A _what_?" said Polly. She vaulted the dyke, cleared the fence, and +kneeling on the ground beside her two excited, panting little brothers, +flung a hot, detaining arm round each. + +"A baby! it isn't true, Bunny? it isn't true, Bob? A real live baby? Not +a doll! a baby that will scream and wriggle up its face! But it can't +be. Oh, heavenly! oh, delicious! But it can't be true, it can't! You're +always making up stories, Bunny!" + +"Not this time," said Bunny. "You tell her, Bob--she'll believe you. I +heard it yelling--oh, didn't it yell, just! And Helen came, and said to +send Polly in. Helen was crying, I don't know what about, and she said +you were to go in at once. Why, what is the matter, Poll Parrot?" + +"Nothing," said Polly, "only you might have told me about Helen crying +before. Helen never cries unless there's something perfectly awful going +to happen. Stay out in the garden, you two boys--make yourselves sick +with gooseberries, if you like, only don't come near the house, and +don't make the tiniest bit of noise. A new baby--and Helen crying! But +mother--I'll find out what it means from mother!" + +Polly had long legs, and they bore her quickly in a swift race or canter +to the house. When she approached the porch the dogs all got up in a +body to meet her; there were seven or eight dogs, and they surrounded +her, impeding her progress. + +"Not a bark out of one of you," she said, sternly, "lie down--go to +sleep. If you even give a yelp I'll come out by and by and beat you. Oh, +Alice, what is it? What's the matter?" + +A maid servant was standing in the wide, square hall. + +"What is it, Alice? What is wrong? There's a new baby--I'm delighted at +that. But why is Helen crying, and--oh!--oh!--what does it mean--you +are crying, too, Alice." + +"It's--Miss Polly, I can't tell you," began the girl. She threw her +apron over her head, and sobbed loudly. "We didn't know where you was, +miss--it's, it's--We have been looking for you everywhere, miss. Why, +Miss Polly, you're as white, as white--Don't take on now, miss, dear." + +"You needn't say any more," gasped Polly, sinking down into a garden +chair. "I'm not going to faint, or do anything silly. And I'm not going +to cry either. Where's Helen? If there's anything bad she'll tell me. +Oh, do stop making that horrid noise, Alice, you irritate me so +dreadfully!" + +Alice dashed out of the open door, and Polly heard her sobbing again, +and talking frantically to the dogs. There was no other sound of any +sort. The intense stillness of the house had a half-stunning, +half-calming effect on the startled child. She rose, and walked slowly +upstairs to the first landing. + +"Polly," said her sister Helen, "you've come at last. Where were you +hiding?--oh, poor Polly!" + +"Where's mother?" said Polly. "I want her--let me go to her--_let_ me +go to her at once, Nell." + +"Oh, Polly----" + +Helen's sobs came now, loud, deep, and distressful. There was a new +baby--but no mother for Polly any more. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +ALL ABOUT THE FAMILY. + + +Dr. Maybright had eight children, and the sweetest and most attractive +wife of any man in the neighborhood. He had a considerable country +practice, was popular among his patients, and he and his were adored by +the villagers, for the Maybrights had lived in the neighborhood of the +little village of Tyrsley Dale for many generations. Dr. Maybright's +father had ministered to the temporal wants of the fathers and mothers +of these very same villagers; and his father before him had also been in +the profession, and had done his best for the inhabitants of Tyrsley +Dale. It was little wonder, therefore, that the simple folks who lived +in the little antiquated village on the borders of one of our great +southern moors should have thought that to the Maybrights alone of the +whole race of mankind had been given the art of healing. + +For three or four generations the Maybright family had lived at Sleepy +Hollow, which was the name of the square gray house, with its large +vegetable garden, its sheltered clump of forest trees, and its +cultivated flower and pleasure grounds. Here, in the old nursery, Polly +had first opened her bright blue-black eyes; in this house Dr. +Maybright's eight children had lived happily, and enjoyed all the +sunshine of the happiest of happy childhoods to the full. They were all +high-spirited and fearless; each child had a certain amount of +individuality. Perhaps Polly was the naughtiest and the most peculiar; +but her little spurt of insubordination speedily came to nothing, for +mother, without ever being angry, or ever saying anything that could +hurt Polly's sensitive feelings, had always, with firm and gentle hand, +put an extinguisher on them. + +Mother was really, then, the life of the house. She was young to have +such tall slips of daughters, and such little wild pickles of sons; and +she was so pretty and so merry, and in such ecstasies over a picnic, and +so childishly exultant when Helen, or Polly, or Katie, won a prize or +did anything the least bit extraordinary, that she was voted the best +playfellow in the world. + +Mother was never idle, and yet she was always at leisure, and so she +managed to obtain the confidences of all the children; she thoroughly +understood each individual character, and she led her small brood with +silken reins. + +Dr. Maybright was a great deal older than his wife. He was a tall man, +still very erect in his figure, with square shoulders, and a keen, +bright, kindly face. He had a large practice, extending over many miles, +and although he had not the experience which life in a city would have +given him, he was a very clever physician, and many of his brothers in +the profession prophesied eminence for him whenever he chose to come +forward and take it. Dr. Maybright was often absent from home all day +long, sometimes also in the dead of night the children heard his +carriage wheels as they bowled away on some errand of mercy. Polly +always thought of her father as a sort of angel of healing, who came +here, there, and everywhere, and took illness and death away with him. + +"Father won't let Josie Wilson die," Polly used to say; or, "What bad +toothache Peter Simpkins has to-day--but when father sees him he will +be all right." + +Polly had a great reverence for her father, although she loved her +beautiful young mother best. The children never expected Dr. Maybright +to join in their games, or to be sympathetic over their joys or their +woes. They reverenced him much, they loved him well, but he was too busy +and too great to be troubled by their little concerns. Of course, mother +was different, for mother was part and parcel of their lives. + +There were six tall, slim, rather straggling-looking Maybright +girls--all overgrown, and long of limb, and short of frock. Then there +came two podgy boys, greater pickles than the girls, more hopelessly +disreputable, more defiant of all authority, except mother's. Polly was +as bad as her brothers in this respect, but the other five girls were +docility itself compared to these black lambs, whose proper names were +Charley and John, but who never had been called anything, and never +would be called anything in that select circle, but Bunny and Bob. + +This was the family; the more refined neighbors rather dreaded them, and +even the villagers spoke of most of them as "wondrous rampageous!" But +Mrs. Maybright always smiled when unfriendly comments reached her ears. + +"Wait and see," she would say; "just quietly wait and see--they are +all, every one of them, the sweetest and most healthy-minded children in +the world. Let them alone, and don't interfere with them. I should not +like perfection, it would have nothing to grow to." + +Mrs. Maybright taught the girls herself, and the boys had a rather +frightened-looking nursery-governess, who often was seen to rush from +the school-room dissolved in tears; but was generally overtaken half-way +up the avenue by two small figures, nearly throttled by two pairs of +repentant little arms, while eager lips vowed, declared, and +vociferated, that they would never, never be naughty again--that they +would never tease their own sweet, sweetest of Miss Wilsons any more. + +Nor did they--until the next time. + +Polly was fourteen on that hot July afternoon when she lay on the grass +and skillfully captured the living thrushes, and held them to her +smooth, glowing young cheeks. Her birthday had been over for a whole +fortnight; it had been a day full of delight, love, and happiness, and +mother had said a word or two to the exultant, radiant child at the +close. Something about her putting away some of the childish things, and +taking up the gentler and nobler ways of first young girlhood now. She +thought in an almost undefined way of mother's words as she held the +fluttering thrushes to her lips and kissed their downy breasts. Then had +come the unlooked-for interruption. Polly's life seemed cloudless, and +all of a sudden there appeared a speck in the firmament--a little cloud +which grew rapidly, until the whole heavens were covered with it. Mother +had gone away for ever, and there were now nine children in the old gray +house. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +"BE BRAVE, DEAR." + + +"Wasn't father with her?" Polly had said when she could find her voice +late that evening. "Wasn't father there? I thought father--I always +thought father could keep death away." + +She was lying on her pretty white bed when she spoke. She had lain there +now for a couple of days--not crying nor moaning, but very still, +taking no notice of any one. She looked dull and heavy--her sisters +thought her very ill. + +Dr. Maybright said to Helen-- + +"You must be very careful of Polly, she has had a shock, and she may +take some time recovering. I want you to nurse her yourself, Nell, and +to keep the others from the room. For the present, at least, she must be +kept absolutely quiet--the least excitement would be very bad for her." + +"Polly never cries," said Helen, whose own blue eyes were swollen almost +past recognition; "she never cries, she does not even moan. I think, +father, what really upset Polly so was when she heard that you--you +were there. Polly thinks, she always did think that you could keep death +away." + +Here poor Helen burst into fresh sobs herself. + +"I think," she added, choking as she spoke, "that was what quite broke +Polly down--losing mother, and losing faith in your power at the same +time." + +"I am glad you told me this, Helen," said Dr. Maybright, quietly. "This +alters the case. In a measure I can now set Polly's heart at rest. I +will see her presently." + +"Presently" did not mean that day, nor the next, nor the next, but one +beautiful summer's evening just when the sun was setting, and just when +its long low western rays were streaming into the lattice-window of the +pretty little bower bedroom where Polly lay on her white bed, Dr. +Maybright opened the door and came in. He was a very tall man, and he +had to stoop as he passed under the low, old-fashioned doorway, and as +he walked across the room to Polly's bedside the rays of the setting sun +fell on his face, and he looked more like a beautiful healing presence +than ever to the child. She was lying on her back, with her eyes very +wide open; her face, which had been bright and round and rosy, had grown +pale and small, and her tearless eyes had a pathetic expression. She +started up when she saw her father come in, gave a glad little cry, and +then, remembering something, hid her face in her hands with a moan. + +Dr. Maybright sat down in the chair which Helen had occupied the greater +part of the day. He did not take any notice of Polly's moan, but sat +quite still, looking out at the beautiful, glowing July sunset. +Wondering at his stillness, Polly presently dropped her hands from her +face, and looked round at him. Her lips began to quiver, and her eyes to +fill. + +"If I were you, Polly," said the doctor, in his most matter-of-fact and +professional manner, "I would get up and come down to tea. You are not +ill, you know. Trouble, even great trouble, is not illness. By staying +here in your room you are adding a little to the burden of all the +others. That is not necessary, and it is the last thing your mother +would wish." + +"Is it?" said Polly. The tears were now brimming over in her eyes, but +she crushed back her emotion. "I didn't want to get up," she said, "or +to do anything right any more. She doesn't know--she doesn't hear--she +doesn't care." + +"Hush, Polly--she both knows and cares. She would be much better +pleased if you came down to tea to-night. I want you, and so does Helen, +and so do the other girls and the little boys. See, I will stand by the +window and wait, if you dress yourself very quickly." + +"Give me my pocket-handkerchief," said Polly. She dashed it to her eyes. +No more tears flowed, and by the time the doctor reached the window he +heard a bump on the floor; there was a hasty scrambling into clothes, +and in an incredibly short time an untidy, haggard-looking, but now +wide-awake, Polly stood by the doctor's side. + +"That is right," he said, giving her one of his quick, rare smiles. + +He took no notice of the tossed hair, nor the stained, crumpled, cotton +frock. + +"Take my arm, Polly," he said, almost cheerfully. And they went down +together to the old parlor where mother would never again preside over +the tea-tray. + +It was more than a week since Mrs. Maybright had died, and the others +were accustomed to Helen's taking her place, but the scene was new to +the poor, sore-hearted child who now come in. Dr. Maybright felt her +faltering steps, and knew what her sudden pause on the threshold meant. + +"Be brave, dear," he whispered. "You will make it easier for me." + +After that Polly would have fought with dragons rather than shed a ghost +of a tear. She slipped into a seat by her father, and crumbled her +bread-and-butter, and gulped down some weak tea, taking care to avoid +any one's eyes, and feeling her own cheeks growing redder and redder. + +In mother's time Dr. Maybright had seldom spoken. On many occasions he +did not even put in an appearance at the family tea, for mother herself +and the group of girls kept up such a chatter that, as he said, his +voice would not be heard; now, on the contrary, he talked more than any +one, telling the children one or two most interesting stories on natural +history. Polly was devoted to natural history, and in spite of herself +she suspended her tea-cup in the air while she listened. + +"It is almost impossible, I know," concluded Dr. Maybright as he rose +from the table. "But it can be done. Oh, yes, boys, I don't want either +of you to try it, but still it can be done. If the hand is very steady, +and poised in a particular way, then the bird can be caught, but you +must know how to hold him. Yes--what is the matter, Polly?" + +"I did it!" burst from Polly, "I caught two of them--darlings--I was +kissing them when--oh, father!" + +Polly's face was crimson. All the others were staring at her. + +"I want you, my dear," said her father, suddenly and tenderly. "Come +with me." + +Again he drew her hand protectingly through his arm, and led her out of +the room. + +"You were a very good, brave child at tea-time," he said. "But I +particularly wish you to cry. Tears are natural, and you will feel much +better if you have a good cry. Come upstairs now to Nurse and baby." + +"Oh, no, I can't--I really can't see baby!" + +"Why not?--She is a dear little child, and when your mother went away +she left her to you all, to take care of, and cherish and love. I think +she thought specially of you, Polly, for you always have been specially +fond of little children. Come to the nursery now with me. I want you to +take care of baby for an hour, while Nurse is at her supper." + +Polly did not say another word. The doctor and she went together into +the old nursery, and a moment or two afterwards she found herself +sitting in Nurse's little straw arm-chair, holding a tiny red mite of a +baby on her knee. Mother was gone, and this--this was left in her +place! Oh, what did God mean? thought the woe-begone, broken-hearted +child. + +The doctor did not leave the room. He was looking through some books, a +pile of old MS. books in one corner by the window, and had apparently +forgotten all about Polly and the baby. She held the wee bundle without +clasping it to her, or bestowing upon it any endearing or comforting +little touch, and as she looked the tears which had frozen round her +heart flowed faster and faster, dropping on the baby's dress, and even +splashing on her tiny face. + +Baby did not like this treatment, and began to expostulate in a fretful, +complaining way. Instantly Polly's motherly instincts awoke; she wiped +her own tears from the baby's face, and raising it in her arms, pressed +its little soft velvet cheek to her own. As she did so, a thrill of warm +comfort stole into her heart. + +"Polly," said her father, coming suddenly up to her, "please take good +care of baby till Nurse returns. I must go out now, I have some patients +to see, but I am going to prescribe a special little supper for you, +which Helen is to see you eat before you go to bed. Good-night, dear. +Please ask Nurse, too, if you can do anything in the morning to help her +with baby. Good-night, good-night, both of you. Why the little creature +is quite taking to you, Polly!" + +Dr. Maybright was about to leave the room when Polly called him back. + +"Father, I must say one thing. I have been in a dreadful, dreadful dream +since mother died. The most dreadful part of my dream, the blackest +part, was about you." + +"Yes, Polly, yes, dear." + +"You were there, father, and you let her die." + +Dr. Maybright put his arm round the trembling child, and drew her and +the baby too close to him. + +"Not willingly," he said, in a voice which Polly had never heard him use +before. "Not willingly, my child. It was with anguish I let your mother +go away. But Polly, there was another physician there, greater than I." + +"Another?" said Polly. + +"Yes, another--and He prescribed Rest, for evermore." + +All her life afterwards Polly remembered these words of her father's. +They calmed her great sorrow, and in many ways left her a different +child. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +QUITE A NEW SORT OF SCHEME. + + +On a certain sunny morning in August, four or five weeks after Mrs. +Maybright's death, six girls stood round Dr. Maybright in his study. +They were all dressed in deep mourning, but it was badly made and +unbecoming, and one and all looked untidy, and a little run to seed. +Their ages were as varied as their faces. Helen, aged sixteen, had a +slightly plump figure, a calm, smooth, oval face, and pretty gentle blue +eyes. Her hair was fair and wavy; she was the tidiest of the group, and +notwithstanding the heavy make of her ugly frock, had a very sweet and +womanly expression. Polly, all angles and awkwardness, came next in +years; she was tall and very slim. Her face was small, her hair nearly +black and very untidy, and her big, dark, restless eyes reflected each +emotion of her mind. + +Polly was lolling against the mantelpiece, and restlessly changing her +position from one leg to another; Katie, aged eleven, was something in +Helen's style; then came the twins, Dolly and Mabel, and then a rather +pale child, with a somewhat queer expression, commonly known in the +family as "Firefly." Her real name was Lucy, but no one ever dreamt of +calling her by this gentle title. "Firefly" was almost always in some +sort of disgrace, and scarcely knew what it was not to live in a state +of perpetual mental hot water. It was privately whispered in the family +circle that Polly encouraged her in her naughtiness. Whether that was +the case or not, these two had a kind of quaint, elfish friendship +between them, Firefly in her heart of hearts worshipping Polly, and +obeying her slightest nod or wish. + +"I have sent for you, girls," said the Doctor, looking round tenderly at +his six motherless daughters, "to say that I have talked over matters +with Helen, and for the present at least, I am willing to give her plan +a trial. I think she is right when she tells me that if it turns out +successful nothing would please your mother more. It entirely depends on +yourselves whether it succeeds or fails. If you are agreeable to try it, +you can come to me to-morrow at this hour and tell me so. Now good-by, +my dears. Helen will explain everything to you. Helen, I shall not be in +for early dinner. Good-by, good-by to you all." + +The Doctor nodded, looked half-abstractedly at the upturned young faces, +pushed his way through the little group, and taking up a parcel of +papers and a surgical case which lay near, went straight to his +carriage, which was heard immediately afterwards to bowl quickly down +the avenue. + +The moment he was gone Helen was surrounded by a clamorous group. + +"What is it, Nell? oh, do tell us--tell us quickly," said they, one and +all. + +"I thought Helen looked very important these last few days," said Dolly. +"Do tell us what it is, Nell, and what the plan is we are all to agree +to." + +"It sounds rather nice to be asked to agree to things," said Firefly. +"What's the matter, Poll? You look grumpy." + +"I think Helen may be allowed to speak," said Polly. "Go on, Nell, out +with the budget of news. And you young ones, you had better not +interrupt her, for if you do, I'll pay you out by-and-by. Now, Nell. +Speak, Nell." + +"It's this," said Helen. + +She seated herself on the window-ledge, and Polly stood, tall and +defiant, at her back. Firefly dropped on her knees in front, and the +others lolled about anyhow. + +"It's this," she said. "Father would like to carry on our education as +much in mother's way as possible. And he says that he is willing, for a +time at least, to do without having a resident elderly governess to live +with us." + +"Oh, good gracious!" exclaimed Polly, "was there ever such an idea +thought of?" + +"She'd have spectacles," said Dolly. + +"And a hooked nose," remarked Katie. + +"And she'd be sure to squint, and have false teeth, and I'd hate her," +snapped Firefly, putting on her most vindictive face. + +"Well, it's what's generally done," said Helen, in her grave, sad, +steady, young voice. "You remember the Brewsters when they--they had +their great sorrow--how an elderly governess came, and Aunt Maria +Cameron has written to father about two already. She speaks of them as +treasures; father showed me the letters. He says he supposes it is quite +the usual thing, and he asked me what I'd like. Poor father, you see he +must be out all day with the sick folks." + +"Of course," murmured Polly. "Well, what did you answer him about the +old horrors, Nell?" + +"One seemed rather nice," said Helen. "She was about forty-five, and had +thin grayish hair. Aunt Maria sent her photograph, and said that she was +a treasure, and that father ought not to lose an hour in securing her. +Her name was Miss Jenkins." + +"Jenkins or Jones, I'd have given her sore bones," spitefully improvised +Firefly. + +"Well, she's not to come," continued Helen, "at least, not at present. +For I have persuaded father to let us try the other plan. He says all +our relations will be angry with him; of course, he is not likely to +care for that. This is what we are to try, girls, if you are agreeable. +Father is going to get the very best daily governess from Nettleship to +come here every morning. She will stay until after early dinner, and +then George will drive her back to town in the pony trap. And then Mr. +Masters is to come twice a week, as usual, about our music, and Mr. +Danvers for drawing. And Miss Wilson is to stay here most of the day to +look after Bunny and Bob. That is a much better arrangement than having +a resident governess, is it not?" + +"Yes," said three or four voices, but Polly was silent, and Firefly, +eagerly watching her face, closed her own resolute lips. + +"That is part of father's plan," continued Helen. "But the other, and +more important part is this. I am to undertake the housekeeping. Father +says he would like Polly to help me a little, but the burden and +responsibility of the whole thing rests on me. And also, girls, father +says that there must be some one in absolute authority. There must be +some one who can settle disputes, and keep things in order, and so he +says that unless you are all willing to do what I ask you to do, the +scheme must still fall through, and we must be like the Brewsters or any +other unhappy girls whose mothers are no longer with them, and have our +resident governess." + +"I know you won't like to obey me," continued Helen, looking anxiously +round, "but I don't think I'll be hard on you. No, I am sure I shall not +be hard on any of you." + +"That remains to be proved," said Polly. "I don't think I like that +plan. I won't give any answer at present--I'll think about it. Come +along, Fly," she nodded to her younger sister, and then, lifting the +heavy bottom sash of the window where Helen had been sitting, stepped +lightly out, followed by the obedient Firefly. + +"I don't want to obey Nell," said the little sister, clasping two of +Polly's fingers with her thin, small hand. "If it was you, Poll Parrot, +it would be a different thing, but I don't want to obey Nell. I don't +think it's fair; she's only my sister, like the rest of them. There's +nothing said in the Catechism about obeying sisters. It's only fathers +and mothers, and spiritual pastors and masters." + +"And all those put in authority over you," proceeded Polly, shaking her +fingers free, and facing round on Firefly, in a way which caused that +young person to back several inches. "If Helen once gets the authority +the Catechism is on her side, not on yours." + +"But I needn't promise, need I?" pouted Firefly. "If it was you, it +would be different. I always did what you wanted me to do, Polly +Perkins." + +"Of course you did," responded Polly, in a most contemptuous voice. +"Will a duck swim? I led you into mischief--of course you followed. +Well, Fly, it rests with yourself. Don't obey our dear, good, gentle +Nelly, and you'll have Miss Jenkins here. Won't it be fun to see her +squinting at you over her spectacles when she returns your +spelling-lessons. Bread and water will be your principal diet most of +the week. Well, good-by now; I'm off to baby." + +Polly took to her heels, and Firefly stood for a moment or two looking +utterly miserable and irresolute on the wide gravel walk in the center +of the flower-garden. She felt very much inclined to stamp her feet and +to screw up her thin little face into contortions of rage. Even very +little girls, however, won't go into paroxysms of anger when there is no +one there to see. Firefly's heart was very sore, for Polly, her idol, +had spoken to her almost roughly. + +"I wish mother wasn't in heaven," she murmured in a grieved little +voice, and then she turned and walked back to the house. The nearer she +approached the study window the faster grew her footsteps. At last, like +a little torrent, she vaulted back into the room, and flung her arms +noisily round Helen's neck. + +"I'll obey you, darling Nell," she said. "I'd much rather have you than +Miss Jenkins." + +And then she sobbed aloud, and really shook herself, for she felt still +so angry with Polly. + +"That's a good little Fly," said Helen, kissing her affectionately in +return, and putting her arm round her waist, so as to establish her +comfortably on her knee. The other girls were all lying about in +different easy attitudes, and Firefly joined in the general talk, and +found herself much comforted. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +A SAFETY-VALVE. + + +"Fly caved in, didn't she?" said Polly to her eldest sister that night. + +"Yes, poor little mite, she did, in a touching way," said Helen; "but +she seemed in trouble about something. You know how reserved she is +about her feelings, but when she sat on my knee she quite sobbed." + +"I was rather brutal to her," said Polly, in a nonchalant tone, flinging +up the sash of the bedroom window as she spoke, and indulging in a +careless whistle. + +It was bed-time, but the girls were tempted by the moonlight night to +sit up and look out at the still, sweet beauty, and chatter together. + +"How could you be unkind to her?" said Helen, in a voice of dismay. +"Polly, dear, do shut that window again, or you will have a sore throat. +How could you be unkind to poor little Fly, Poll, when she is so devoted +to you?" + +"The very reason," said Polly. "She'd never have gone over to you if I +hadn't. I saw rebellion in that young 'un's eye--that was why I called +her out. I was determined to nip it in the bud." + +"But you rebelled yourself?" + +"Yes, and I mean to go on rebelling. I am not Fly." + +"Well, Polly," said Helen, suppressing a heavy sigh on her own account; +"you know I don't want you a bit to obey me. I am not a mistressing sort +of girl, and I like to consult you about things, and I want us both to +feel more or less as equals. Still father says there are quite two years +between us, and that the scheme cannot be worked at all unless some one +is distinctly at the head. He particularly spoke of you, Polly, and said +that if you would not agree we must go back to the idea of Miss Jenkins, +or that he will let this house for a time, and send us all to school." + +"A worse horror than the other," said Polly. "I wouldn't be a +school-girl for all you could give me! Why, the robin's nest might be +discovered by some one else, and my grubs and chrysalides would come to +perfection without me. No, no; rather than that--can't we effect a +compromise, Nell?" + +"What is it?" asked Helen. "You know _I_ am willing to agree to +anything. It is father." + +"Oh, yes; poor Nell, you're the meekest and mildest of mortals. Now, +look here, wouldn't this be fun?" + +Polly's black eyes began to dance. + +"You know how fond I always was of housekeeping. Let me housekeep every +second week. Give me the money and let me buy every single thing and pay +for it, and don't interfere with me whatever I do. I'll promise to be as +good as gold always, and obey you in every single thing, if only I have +this safety-valve. Let me expend myself upon the housekeeping, and I'll +be as good, better than gold. I'll help you, and be your right hand, +Nell; and I'll obey you in the most public way before all the other +girls, and as to Fly, see if I don't keep her in hand. What do you think +of this plan, Nell? I, with my safety-valve, the comfort of your life, a +sort of general to keep your forces in order." + +"But you really can't housekeep, Polly. Of course I'd like to please +you, and father said himself you were to help me in the house. But to +manage everything--why, it frightens me, and I am two years older." + +"But you have so very little spirit, darling. Now it doesn't frighten me +a bit, and that's why I'm so certain I shall succeed splendidly. Look +here, Nell, let me speak to father, myself; if he says 'yes,' you won't +object, will you?" + +"Of course not," said Helen. + +"You are a darling--I'll soon bring father round. Now, shall we go to +bed?--I am so sleepy." + +The next morning at breakfast Polly electrified her brothers and sisters +by the very meek way in which she appealed to Helen on all occasions. + +"Do you think, Nell, that I ought to have any more of this marmalade on +fresh bread? I ate half a pot yesterday on three or four slices of hot +bread from the oven, and felt quite a dizzy stupid feeling in my head +afterwards." + +"Of course, how could you expect it to agree with you, Polly?" said +Helen, looking up innocently from her place at the tea-tray. + +"Had better have a little of this stale bread-and-butter then, dear?" +proceeded Polly in a would-be anxious tone. + +"Yes, if you will, dear. But you never like stale bread-and-butter." + +"I'll eat it if you wish me to, Helen," answered Polly, in a very meek, +good little voice. + +The two boys began to chuckle, and even Dr. Maybright looked at his +second daughter in a puzzled, abstracted way. Helen, too, colored +slightly, and wondered what Polly meant. But the young lady herself +munched her stale bread with the most immovable of faces, and even held +up the slice for Helen to scrutinize, with the gentle, good little +remark--"Have I put too much butter on it, Nell? It isn't right to +waste nice good butter, is it?" + +"Oh, Polly, how dreadful you are?" said Fly. + +"What do you mean?" said Polly, fiercely. + +She dropped her meek manners, gave one quick glare at the small speaker, +and then half turning her back on her, said in the gentlest of voices, +"What would you like me to do this morning, Helen? Shall I look over my +history lesson for an hour, and then practise scales on the piano?" + +"You may do just as you please, as far as I am concerned," replied +Helen, who felt that this sort of obedience was far worse for the others +than open rebellion. "I thought you wanted to see father, Polly. He has +just gone into his study, and perhaps he will give you ten minutes, if +you go to him at once." + +This speech of Helen's caused Polly to forget her role of the meek, +obedient martyr. Her brow cleared. + +"Thank you for reminding me, Nell," she said, in her natural voice, and +for a moment later she was knocking at the Doctor's study door. + +"Come in," he said. And when the untidy head and somewhat neglected +person of his second daughter appeared, Dr. Maybright walked towards +her. + +"I am going out, Polly, do you want me?" he said. + +"Yes, it won't take a minute," said Polly, eagerly. "May I housekeep +every second week instead of Nell? Will you give me the money instead of +her, and let me pay for everything, and buy the food. I am awfully +interested in eggs and butter, and I'll give you splendid puddings and +cakes. Please say yes, father--Nell is quite willing, if you are." + +"How old are you, Polly?" said Dr. Maybright. + +He put his hand under Polly's chin and raised her childish face to +scrutinize it closely. + +"What matter about my age," she replied; "I'm fourteen in body--I'm +twenty in mind--and as to housekeeping, I'm thirty, if not forty." + +"That head looks very like thirty, if not forty," responded the Doctor +significantly. "And that dress," glancing at where the hem was torn, and +where the body gaped open for want of sufficient hooks, "looks just the +costume I should recommend for the matron of a large establishment. Do +you know what it means to housekeep for this family, Polly?" + +"Buy the bread and butter, and the meat, and the poultry, and the tea, +and the sugar, and the citron, and raisins, and allspice, and nutmegs, +and currants, and flour, and brick-bat, and hearthstone, +and--and----" + +Dr. Maybright put his fingers to his ears. "Spare me any more," said he, +"I never ask for items. There are in this house, Polly, nine children, +myself, and four servants. That makes in all fourteen people. These +people have to be fed and clothed, and some of them have to be paid +wages too; they have to be warmed, they have to be kept clean, in short, +all their comforts of body have to be attended to; one of them requires +one thing, one quite another. For instance, the dinner which would be +admirably suited to you would kill baby, and might not be best for +Firefly, who is not strong, and has to be dieted in a particular way. I +make it a rule that servants' wages and all articles consumed in the +house are paid for weekly. Whoever housekeeps for me has to undertake +all this, and has to make a certain sum of money cover a certain +expenditure. Now do you think, Polly--do you honestly think--that you, +an ignorant little girl of fourteen, a very untidy and childish little +girl, can undertake this onerous post? I ask you to answer me quite +honestly--if you undertake it, are you in the least likely to succeed?" + +"Oh, father, I know you mean to crush me when you speak like that; but +you know you told Helen that you would like her to try to manage the +housekeeping." + +"I did--and, as I know you are fond of domestic things, I meant you to +help her a little. Helen is two years older than you, and--not the +least like you, Polly." + +Polly tossed her head. + +"I know that," she said. "Helen takes twice as long learning her +lessons. Try my French beside hers, father; or my German, or my music." + +"Or your forbearance--or your neatness," added the Doctor. + +Here he sighed deeply. + +"I miss your mother, Polly," he said. "And poor, poor child! so do you. +There, I can't waste another minute of my time with you now. Come to my +study this evening at nine, and we will discuss the matter further." + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +POLLY'S RAID. + + +Polly spent some hours of that day in a somewhat mysterious occupation. +Instead of helping, as she had done lately, in quite an efficient way, +with the baby, for she was a very bright child, and could be most +charming and attractive to the smallest living creature when she chose, +she left nurse and the little brown-eyed baby to their own devices, and +took up a foraging expedition through the house. She called it her raid, +and Polly's raid proved extremely disturbing to the domestic economy of +the household. For instance, when Susan, the very neat housemaid, had +put all the bedrooms in perfect order, and was going to her own room to +change her dress and make herself tidy, it was very annoying to hear +Polly, in a peremptory tone, desiring her to give her the keys of the +linen-press. + +"For," said that young lady, "I'm going to look through the towels this +morning, Susan, to see which of them want darning, and you had better +stay with me, to take away those that have thin places in them." + +"Oh, dear me, Miss Polly," said Susan, rather pertly, "the towels is +seen to in the proper rotation. You needn't be a fretting your head +about 'em, miss. This ain't the morning for the linen-press, miss. It's +done at its proper time and hour." + +"Give me the key at once, Susan, and don't answer," said Polly. "There, +hold your apron--I'll throw the towels in. What a lot--I don't believe +we want half as many. When I take the reins of office next week, I'll +put away quite half of these towels. There can't be waste going on in +the house--I won't have it, not when I housekeep, at any rate. Susan, +wasn't that a little round speck of a hole in that towel? Ah, I thought +so. You put it aside, Susan, you'll have to darn it this afternoon. Now +then, let me see, let me see." + +Polly worked vigorously through the towels, holding them up to the light +to discover their thin places, pinching them in parts, and feeling their +texture between her finger and thumb. In the end she pronounced about a +dozen unworthy of domestic service, and Susan was desired to spend her +afternoon in repairing them. + +"I can't, then, Miss Polly," said the much injured housemaid. "It ain't +neither the day nor the hour, and I haven't got one scrap of proper +darning thread left." + +"I'll go to the village, then, and get some," said Polly. "It's only a +mile away. Things can't be neglected--it isn't right. Take the towels, +Susan, and let me find them mended to-morrow morning;" and the young +lady tripped off with a very bright color in her cheeks, and the key of +the linen-press in her pocket. + +Her next visit was to the kitchen regions. + +"Oh, Mrs. Power," she said to the cook, "I've come to see the stores. It +isn't right that they shouldn't be looked into, is it, in case of +anything falling short. Fancy if you were run out of pearl barley, Mrs. +Power, or allspice, or nutmegs, or mace. Oh, dear, it makes me quite +shiver to think of it! What a mess you would be in, if you hadn't all +your ingredients handy, in case you were making a plum-cake, or some of +those dear little tea-cakes, or a custard, or something of that sort. +Now, if you'll just give me the keys, we'll pay a visit to the +store-room, and see what is likely to be required. I have my tablet +here, and I can write the order as I look through." + +Mrs. Power was a red-faced and not a very good-humored woman. She was, +however, an excellent cook and a careful, prudent servant. Mrs. +Maybright had found her, notwithstanding her very irascible temper, a +great comfort, for she was thoroughly honest and conscientious, but even +from her late mistress Mrs. Power would never brook much interference; +it is therefore little to be wondered at that Polly's voluminous speech +was not very well received. + +Mrs. Power's broad back was to the young lady, as she danced gleefully +into the kitchen, and it remained toward her, with one ear just slightly +turned in her direction, all the time she was speaking. + +Mrs. Power was busy at the moment removing the fat from a large vessel +full of cold soup. She has some pepper and salt, and nutmegs and other +flavoring ingredients on the table beside her, and when Polly's speech +came to a conclusion she took up the pepper canister and certainly +flavored the soup with a very severe dose. + +"If I was you, I'd get out of the hot kitchen, child--I'm busy, and not +attending to a word you're talking about." + +No answer could have been more exasperating to Polly. She, too, had her +temper, and had no idea of being put down by twenty Mrs. Powers. + +"Take care, you're spoiling the soup," she said. "That's twice too much +pepper--and oh, what a lot of salt! Don't you know, Mrs. Power, that +it's very wicked to waste good food in that way--it is, really, perhaps +you did not think of it in that light, but it is. I'm afraid you can't +ever have attended any cookery classes, Mrs. Power, or you'd know better +than to put all that pepper into that much soup. Why it ought to be--it +ought to be--let me see, I think it's the tenth of an ounce to half a +gallon of soup. I'm not quite sure, but I'll look up the cookery +lectures and let you know. Now, where's the key of the store-room--we'd +better set to work for the morning is going on, and I have a great deal +on my hands. Where's the key of the store-room, Mrs. Power?" + +"There's only one key that I know much about at the present moment," +replied the exasperated cook, "and that's the key of the kitchen-door; +come, child--I'm going to put you on the other side of it;" and so +saying, before Polly was in the least aware of her intention, she was +caught up in Mrs. Power's stalwart arms, and placed on the flags outside +the kitchen, while the door was boldly locked in her face. + +This was really a check, almost a checkmate, and for a time Polly quite +shook with fury, but after a little she sufficiently recovered herself +to reflect that the reins of authority had not yet been absolutely +placed in her hands, and it might be wisest for her to keep this defeat +to herself. + +"Poor old Power! you won't be here long when I'm housekeeper," reflected +Polly. "It would not be right--you're not at all a good servant. Why, I +know twice as much already as you do." + +She went slowly upstairs, and going to the school-room, where the girls +were all busying themselves in different fashions, sat down by her own +special desk, and made herself very busy dividing a long old-fashioned +rosewood box into several compartments by means of stout cardboard +divisions. She was really a clever little maid in her own way, and the +box when finished looked quite neat. Each division was labeled, and +Polly's cheeks glowed as she surveyed her handiwork. + +"What a very queer box," said Dolly, coming forward. "What are you so +long about, Poll Parrot? And, oh, what red cheeks!" + +"Never you mind," said Polly, shutting up her box. "It's finished now, +and quite ready for father to see to-night. I'm going to become a very +important personage, Miss Doll--so you'd better begin to treat me with +respect. Oh, dear, where's the cookery book? Helen, do you know where +the "Lectures on Elementary Cookery" is? Just fancy, Nell, cook doesn't +know how much pepper should go to a gallon of soup! Did you ever hear of +such shameful ignorance?" + +"Why, you surely have not been speaking to her on the subject?" said +Helen, who was busily engaged darning Bunny's socks; she raised her head +and looked at Polly in some surprise as she spoke. + +"Oh, have I not, though?" Polly's charming, merry face twinkled all +over. + +"I saw Susan crying just now," interposed Mabel. "She said Polly had +been--why, what is the matter, Poll?" + +"Nothing," said Poll, "only if I were you, Mabel, I wouldn't tell tales +out of school. I'm going to be a person of importance, so if you're +wise, all of you, you'll keep at my blind side. Oh dear! where is that +cookery book? Girls, you may each tell me what puddings you like best, +and what cake, and what dish for breakfast, and----" + +But here the dinner gong put an end to a subject of much interest. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE GROWN-UPS. + + +In the evening Polly had her interview with her father. Dr. Maybright +had gone through a long and fatiguing day; some anxious cases caused him +disquiet, and his recent sorrow lay heavily against his heart. How was +the father of seven daughters, and two very scampish little sons, to +bring them up alone and unaided? How was a man's own heart to do without +the sympathy to which it had turned, the love which had strengthened, +warmed, and sustained it? Dr. Maybright was standing by the window, +looking out at the familiar garden, which showed shadowy and indistinct +in the growing dusk, when Polly crept softly into the room, and, going +up to his side, laid her pretty dimpled hand on his arm. + +"Now, father," she said, eagerly, "about the housekeeping? I'm all +prepared--shall we go into the subject now?" + +Dr. Maybright sighed, and with an effort roused himself out of a reverie +which was becoming very painful. + +"My little girl," he said, pushing back the tumbled hair from Polly's +sunshiny face. Then he added, with a sudden change of manner, "Oh, what +a goose you are, Polly--you know as much about housekeeping as I do, +and that is nothing at all." + +"I wouldn't make bold assertions," replied Polly, saucily--"I wouldn't +really, father dear; I couldn't cure a sick person, of course not, but I +could make a very nice cake for one." + +"Well, let's go into the matter," said the Doctor moving to his study +table. "I have a quarter of an hour to give you, my dear, then I want to +go into the village to see Mrs. Judson before she settles for the night; +she has a nasty kind of low fever about her, and her husband is anxious, +so I promised to look in. By the way, Polly, don't any of you go nearer +the Judsons' house until I give you leave; walk at the other side of the +village, if you must go there at all. Now, my dear, about this +housekeeping. Are you seriously resolved to force your attentions upon +us for a week? We shall certainly all be most uncomfortable, and severe +attacks of indigestion will probably be the result. Is your heart set on +this, Polly, child? For, if so--well, your mother never thwarted you, +did she?" + +"No, father, never--but don't talk of mother, for I don't think I can +bear it. When I was with mother somehow or other, I don't know why, I, +never wished for anything she did not like." + +"Just so, my dear child. Turn up the lamp, if you please, Polly--sit +there, will you--I want to see your face. Now I will reply to the first +part of your last remark. You asked me not to speak of your mother, my +dear; I certainly will mention her name to her children. She has gone +away, but she is still one with us. Why should our dearest household +word be buried? Why should not her influence reach you and Helen and +Dolly from where she now is? She is above--she has gone into the higher +life, but she can lead you up. You understand me, Polly. Thoughts of +your mother must be your best, your noblest thoughts from this out." + +"Yes, father, yes," said Polly. Her lips were trembling, her eyes were +brimful, she clasped and unclasped her hands with painful tension. + +Dr. Maybright bent forward and kissed her on her forehead. + +"Your mother once said to me," he continued, in a lighter tone, "Polly +is the most peculiar and difficult to manage of all my children. She has +a vein of obstinacy in her which no persuasion will overcome. It can +only be reached by the lessons which experience teaches. If possible, +and where it is not absolutely wrong, I always give Polly her own way. +She is a truthful child, and when her eyes are opened she seldom asks to +repeat the experiment." + +"Mother was thinking of the hive of honey," said Polly, gravely. "When I +worried her dreadfully she let me go and take some honey away. I thought +I could manage the bees just as cleverly as Hungerford does, but I got +nervous just at the end, and I was stung in four places. I never told +any one about the stings, only mother found out." + +"You did not fetch any more honey from that hive, eh, Polly?" asked the +Doctor. + +"No, father. And then there was another time--and oh, yes, many other +times. But I did not know mother was just trying to teach me, when she +seemed so kind and sympathizing, and used to say in that voice of +hers--you remember mother's cheerful voice, father?--'Well, Polly, it +is a difficult thing, but do your best.'" + +"All right, child," said the Doctor, "I perceive that your mother's plan +was a wise one. Tell me quickly what ideas you have with regard to +keeping this establishment together, for it is almost time for me to run +away to Mrs. Judson. I allow eight pounds a week for all household +expenses, servants' wages, coal, light, food, medicine. I shall not +allow you to begin with so much responsibility, but for a week you may +provide our table." + +"And see after the servants, please, father?" interrupted Polly, in an +eager voice. + +"Well, I suppose so, just for one week, that is, after Helen has had her +turn. Your mother always managed, with the help of the vegetables and +fruit from the garden, to bring the mere table expenses into four pounds +a week; but _she_ was a most excellent manager." + +"Oh, father, I can easily do it too. Why it's a lot of money! four +pounds--eighty shillings! I shouldn't be a bit surprised if I did it +for less." + +"Remember, Polly, I allow no stinting; we must have a plentiful table. +No stinting, and no running in debt. Those are the absolute conditions, +otherwise I do not trust you with a penny." + +"I'll keep them, father--never fear! Oh, how delighted I am! I know +you'll be pleased; I know what you'll say by-and-by. I'm certain I won't +fail, certain. I always loved cooking and housekeeping. Fancy making +pie-crust myself, and cakes, and custards! Mrs. Power is rather cross, +but she'll have to let me make what things I choose when I'm +housekeeper, won't she, father?" + +"Manage it your own way, dear, I neither interfere nor wish to +interfere. Oh, what a mess we shall be in! But thank heaven it is only +for a week. My dear child, I allow you to have your way, but I own it is +with trepidation. Now I must really go to Mrs. Judson." + +"But one moment, please, father. I have not shown you my plan. You think +badly of me now, but you won't, indeed you won't presently. I am all +system, I assure you. I see my way so clearly. I'll retrench without +being mean, and I'll economize without being stingy. Don't I use fine +words, father? That's because I understand the subject so thoroughly." + +"Quite so, Polly. Now I must be going. Good-night, my dear." + +"But my plan--you must stay to hear it. Do you see this box? It has +little divisions. I popped them all in before dinner to-day. There is a +lock and key to the box, and the lock is a strong one." + +"Well, Polly?" + +The Doctor began to get into his overcoat. + +"Look, father, dear, please look. Each little division is marked with a +name. This one is Groceries, this one is Butcher, this is Milk, butter, +and eggs, this is Baker, this is Cheesemonger, and this is Sundries--oh +yes, and laundress, I must screw in a division for laundress somehow. +Now, father, this is my delightful plan. When you give me my four +pounds--my eighty shillings--I'll get it all changed into silver, and +I'll divide it into equal portions, and drop so much into the grocery +department, so much into the butcher's, so much into the baker's. Don't +you see how simple it will be?" + +"Very, my dear--the game of chess is nothing to it. Good-night, Polly. I +sincerely hope no serious results will accrue from these efforts on my +part to teach you experience." + +The Doctor walked quickly down the avenue. + +"I'm quite resolved," he said to himself, "to bring them all up as much +as possible on their mother's plan, but if Polly requires many such +lessons as I am forced to give her to-night, there is nothing for it but +to send her to school. For really such an experience as we are about to +go through at her hands is enough to endanger health, to say nothing of +peace and domestic quiet. The fact is, I really am a much worried man. +It's no joke bringing up seven motherless girls, each of them with +characters; the boys are a simple matter--they have school before them, +and a career of some sort, but the girls--it really is an awful +responsibility. Even the baby has a strong individuality of her own--I +see it already in her brown eyes--bless her, she has got her mother's +eyes. But my queer, wild, clever Polly--what a week we shall have with +you presently! Now, who is that crying and sobbing in the dark?" + +The Doctor swooped suddenly down on a shadowy object, which lay prone +under an arbutus shrub. "My dear little Firefly, what _is_ the matter? +You ought to be in bed ages ago--out here in the damp and cold, and +such deep-drawn sobs! What has nurse been about? This is really +extremely careless." + +"It wasn't nurse's fault," sobbed Firefly, nestling her head into her +father's cheek. "I ran away from her. I hided from her on purpose." + +"Then you were the naughty one. What is the matter, dear? Why do you +make things worse for me and for us all just now?" + +Firefly's head sank still lower. Her hot little cheek pressed her +father's with an acute longing for sympathy. Instinct told him of the +child's need. He walked down the avenue, holding her closely. + +"Wasn't you going the other way, father?" asked Firefly, squeezing her +arms tight around his neck. + +"No matter, I must see you home first. Now what were those sobs about? +And why did you hide yourself from nurse?" + +"'Cause I wanted to be downstairs, to listen to the grown-ups." + +"The grown-ups? My dear, who are they?" + +"Oh, Nell, and Poll Parrot, and Katie; I don't mind about Nell and +Polly, but it isn't fair that Katie should be made a grown-up--and she +is--she is, really, father. She is down in the school-room so +important, and just like a regular grown-up, so I couldn't stand it." + +"I see. You wanted to be a grown-up too--you are seven years old, are +you not?" + +"I'm more. I'm seven and a half--Katie is only eleven." + +"Quite so! Katie is young compared to you, isn't she, Firefly. Still, I +don't see my way. You wished to join the grown-ups, but I found you +sobbing on the damp grass under one of the shrubs near the avenue. Is it +really under a damp arbutus shrub that the grown-ups intend to take +counsel?" + +"Oh no, father, no--" here the sobs began again. "They were horrid, oh +they were horrid. They locked me out--I banged against the door, but +they wouldn't open. It was then I came up here. I wouldn't have minded +if it hadn't been for Katie." + +"I see, my child. Well, run to bed now, and leave the matter in father's +hands. Ask nurse to give you a hot drink, and not to scold, for father +knows about it." + +"_Darling_ father--oh, how good you are! Don't I love you! Just another +kiss--_what_ a good father you are!" + +Firefly hugged the tall doctor ecstatically. He saw her disappear into +the house, and once more pursued his way down the avenue. + +"Good!" he echoed to himself. "Never did a more harassed man walk. How +am I to manage those girls?" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +SHOULD THE STRANGERS COME? + + +Helen and Polly were seated together in the pleasant morning-room. Helen +occupied her mother's chair, her feet were on a high footstool, and by +her side, on a small round table, stood a large basket filled with a +heterogeneous collection of odd socks and stockings, odd gloves, pieces +of lace and embroidery, some wool, a number of knitting needles, in +short, a confused medley of useful but run-to-seed-looking articles +which the young housekeeper was endeavoring to reduce out of chaos into +order. + +"Oh, Polly, how you have tangled up all this wool; and where's the +fellow of this gray glove? And--Polly, Polly--here's the handkerchief +you had such a search for last week. Now, how often do you intend me to +put this basket in order for you?" + +"Once a week, dear, if not oftener," answered Polly, in suave tones. +"Please don't speak for a moment or two, Nell. I'm so much interested in +this new recipe for pie-crust. You melt equal portions of lard and butter +in so much boiling water--that's according to the size of the pie; then +you mix it into the flour, kneading it very well--and--and--and--" +Polly's voice dropped to a kind of buzz, her head sank lower over the +large cookery-book which she was studying; her elbows were on the table, +her short curling hair fell over her eyes, and a dimpled hand firmly +pressed each cheek. + +Helen sighed slightly, and returned with a little gesture of resignation +to the disentangling of Polly's work-basket. As she did so she seated +herself more firmly in her mother's arm-chair. Her little figure looked +slight in its deep and ample dimensions, and her smooth fair face was +slightly puckered with anxiety. + +"Polly," she said, suddenly; "Polly, leave that book alone. There's more +in the world than housekeeping and pie-crust. Do you know that I have +discovered something, and I think, I really do think, that we ought to +go on with it. It was mother's plan, and father will always agree to +anything she wished." + +Polly shut up Mrs. Beaton's cookery-book with a bang, rose from her seat +at the table, and opening the window sat down where the wind could +ruffle her hair and cool her hot cheeks. + +"This is Friday," she said, "and my duties begin on Monday. Helen, +pie-crust is not unimportant when success or failure hangs upon it; +puddings may become vital, Helen, and, as to cheesecakes, I would stake +everything I possess in the world on the manner in which father munches +my first cheesecake. Well, dear, never mind; I'll try and turn my +distracted thoughts in your direction for a bit. What's the discovery?" + +"Only," said Helen, "that I think I know what makes father look so gray, +and why he has a stoop, and why his eyes seem so sunken. Of course there +is the loss of our mother, but that is not the only trouble. I think he +has another, and I think also, Polly, that he had this other trouble +before mother died, and that she helped him to bear it, and made plans +to lighten it for him. You remember what one of her plans was, and how +we weren't any of us too well pleased. But I have been thinking lately, +since I began to guess father's trouble, that we ought to carry it out +just the same as if our mother was with us." + +"Yes," said Polly. "You have a very exciting way of putting things, +Nell, winding one up and up, and not letting in the least little morsel +of light. What is father's trouble, and what was the plan? I can't +remember any plan, and I only know about father that he's the noblest of +all noble men, and that he bears mother's loss--well, as nobody else +would have borne it. What other trouble has our dear father, Nell? God +wouldn't be so cruel as to give him another trouble." + +"God is never cruel," said Helen, a beautiful, steadfast light shining +in her eyes. "I couldn't let go the faith that God is always good. But +father--oh, Polly, Polly, I am dreadfully afraid that father is going +to lose his sight." + +"What?" said Polly. "_What?_ father lose his sight? No, I'm not going to +listen to you, Nell. You needn't talk like that. It's perfectly horrid +of you. I'll go away at once and ask him. Father! Why, his eyes are as +bright as possible. I'll go this minute and ask him." + +"No, don't do that, Polly. I would never have spoken if I wasn't really +sure, and I don't think it would be right to ask him, or to speak about +it, until he tells us about it himself. But I began to guess it a little +bit lately, when I saw how anxious mother seemed. For she was anxious, +although she was the brightest of all bright people. And after her death +father said I was to look through some of her letters; and I found one +or two which told me that what I suspected was the case, and father +may--indeed, he probably will--become quite blind, by-and-by. That +was--that was--What's the matter, Polly?" + +"Nothing," said Polly. "You needn't go on--you needn't say any more. +It's a horrid world, nothing is worth living for; pie-crust, nor +housekeeping, nor nothing. I hate the world, and every one in it, and I +hate _you_ most of all, Nell, for your horrid news. Father blind! No, I +won't believe it; it's all a lie." + +"Poor Polly," said Helen. "Don't believe it, dear, I wish _I_ didn't. I +think I know a little bit how you feel. I'm not so hot and hasty and +passionate as you, and oh, I'm not half, nor a quarter, so clever, but +still, I do know how you feel; I--Polly, you startle me." + +"Only you don't hate me at this moment," said Polly. "And I--don't I +hate you, just! There, you can say anything after that. I know I'm a +wretch--I know I'm hopeless. Even mother would say I was hopeless if +she saw me now, hating you, the kindest and best of sisters. But I do, +yes, I do, most heartily. So you see you aren't like me, Helen." + +"I certainly never hated any one," said Helen. "But you are excited, +Polly, and this news is a shock to you. We won't talk about it one way +or other, now, and we'll try as far as possible not to think of it, +except in so far as it ought to make us anxious to carry out mother's +plan." + +Polly had crouched back away from the window, her little figure all +huddled up, her cheeks with carnation spots on them, and her eyes, +brimful of the tears which she struggled not to shed, were partly hidden +by the folds of the heavy curtain which half-enveloped her. + +"You were going to say something else dreadfully unpleasant," she +remarked. "Well, have it out. Nothing can hurt me very much just now." + +"It's about the strangers," said Helen. "The strangers who were to come +in October. You surely can't have forgotten them, Polly." + +Like magic the thunder-cloud departed from Polly's face. The tears dried +in her bright eyes, and the curtain no longer enveloped her slight, +young figure. + +"Why, of course," she said. "The strangers, how could I have forgotten! +How curious we were about them. We didn't know their names. Nothing, +nothing at all--except that there were two, and that they were coming +from Australia. I always thought of them as Paul and Virginia. Dear, +dear, dear, I shall have more housekeeping than ever on my shoulders +with them about the place." + +"They were coming in October," said Helen, quietly. "Everything was +arranged, although so little was known. They were coming in a sailing +vessel, and the voyage was to be a long one, and mother, herself, was +going to meet them. Mother often said that they would arrive about the +second week in October." + +"In three weeks from now?" said Polly, "We are well on in September, +now. I can't imagine how we came to forget Paul and Virginia. Why, of +course, poor children, they must be quite anxious to get to us. I wonder +if I'd be a good person to go and meet them. You are so shy with +strangers, you know, Nell, and I'm not. Mother used to say I didn't know +what _mauvaise honte_ meant. I don't say that I _like_ meeting them, +poor things, but I'll do it, if it's necessary. Still, Helen, I cannot +make out what special plan there is in the strangers coming. Nor what it +has to do with father, with that horrid piece of news you told me a few +minutes ago." + +"It has a good deal to say to it, if you will only listen," said Helen. +"I have discovered by mother's letters that the father of the strangers +is to pay to our father L400 a year as long as his children live here. +They were to be taught, and everything done for them, and the strangers' +father was to send over a check for L100 for them every quarter. Now, +Polly, listen. Our father is not poor, but neither is he rich, and +if--if what we fear is going to happen, he won't earn nearly so much +money in his profession. So it seems a great pity he should lose this +chance of earning L400 a year." + +"But nobody wants him to lose it," said Polly. "Paul and Virginia will +be here in three weeks, and then the pay will begin. L400 a year--let +me see, that's just about eight pounds a week, that's what father says +he spends on the house, that's a lot to spend, I could do it for much +less. But no matter. What are you puckering your brows for, Helen? Of +course the strangers are coming." + +"Father said they were not to come," replied Helen. "He told me so some +weeks ago. When they get to the docks he himself is going to meet them, +and he will take them to another home which he has been inquiring about. +He says that we can't have them here now." + +"But we must have them here," said Polly. "What nonsense! We must both +of us speak to our father at once." + +"I have been thinking it over," said Helen, in her gentle voice, "and I +do really feel that it is a pity to lose this chance of helping father +and lightening his cares. You see, Polly, it depends on us. Father would +do it if he could trust us, you and me, I mean." + +"Well, so he can trust us," replied Polly, glibly. "Everything will be +all right. There's no occasion to make a fuss, or to be frightened. We +have got to be firm, and rather old for our years, and if either of us +puts down her foot she has got to keep it down." + +"I don't know that at all," said Helen. "Mother sometimes said it was +wise to yield. Oh, Polly, I don't feel at all wise enough for all that +is laid on me. We have to be examples in everything. I do want to help +father, but it would be worse to promise to help him and then to fail." + +"I'm not the least afraid," said Polly. "The strangers must come, and +father's purse must be filled in that jolly manner. I don't believe the +story about his eyes, Nell, but it will do him good to feel that he has +got a couple of steady girls like us to see to him. Now I'm arranging a +list of puddings for next week, so you had better not talk any more. +We'll speak to father about Paul and Virginia after dinner." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +LIMITS. + + +Even the wisest men know very little of household management, and never +did an excellent and well-intentioned individual put, to use a +well-known phrase, his foot more completely into it than Dr. Maybright +when he allowed Polly to learn experience by taking the reins of +household management for a week. + +Except in matters that related to his own profession, Dr. Maybright was +apt to be slightly absent-minded; here he was always keenly alive. When +visiting a patient not a symptom escaped him, not a flicker of timid +eyelids passed unnoticed, not a passing shade of color on the invalid's +countenance but called for his acute observation. In household matters, +however, he was apt to overlook trifles, and very often completely to +forget what seemed to his family important arrangements. He was the kind +of man who was sure to be very much beloved at home, for he was neither +fretful nor fussy, but took large views of all things. Such people are +appreciated, and if his children thought him the best of all men, his +servants also spoke of him as the most perfect of masters. + +"You might put anything before him," Mrs. Power would aver. "Bless his +'art, _he_ wouldn't see, nor _he_ wouldn't scold. Ef it were rinsings of +the tea-pot he would drink it instead of soup; and I say, and always +will say, that ef a cook don't jelly the soup for the like of a +gentleman like the doctor what have no mean ways and no fusses, she +ain't fit to call herself a cook." + +So just because they loved him, Dr. Maybright's servants kept his table +fairly well, and his house tolerably clean, and the domestic machinery +went on wheels, not exactly oiled, but with no serious clog to their +progress. + +These things of course happened since Mrs. Maybright's death. In her day +this gentlest and firmest of mistresses, this most tactful of women, +kept all things in their proper place, and her servants obeyed her with +both will and cheerfulness. + +On the Saturday before Polly's novitiate poor Dr. Maybright's troubles +began. He had completely forgotten all about his promise to Polly, and +was surprised when the little girl skipped into his study after +breakfast, with her black frock put on more neatly than usual, her hair +well brushed and pushed off her face, and a wonderful brown holland +apron enveloping her from her throat to her ankles. The apron had +several pockets, and certainly gave Polly a quaint and original +appearance. + +"Here I am, father," she said. "I have come for the money, please." + +"The--the what, my dear?" + +Dr. Maybright put up his eye-glass, and surveyed the little figure +critically. + +"Are these pockets for your school-books?" he said. "It is not a bad +idea; only don't lose them, Polly. I don't like untidy books scattered +here and there." + +Polly took the opportunity to dart a quick, anxious glance into her +father's eyes--they were bright, dark, clear. Of course Helen's horrid +story was untrue. Her spirits rose, she gave a little skip, and clasped +her hands on the Doctor's arm. + +"These are housekeeping pockets, father," she said. "Nothing at all to +say to books. I'm domestic, not intellectual; my housekeeping begins on +Monday, you know, and I've come for the eighty shillings now. Can you +give it to me in silver, not in gold, for I want to divide it, and pop +it into the little box with divisions at once?" + +"Bless me," said the Doctor, "I'd forgotten--I did not know that +indigestion week was so near. Well, here you are, Polly, two pounds in +gold and two pounds in silver. I can't manage more than two sovereigns' +worth of silver, I fear. Now my love, as you are strong, be +merciful--give us only small doses of poison at each meal. I beseech of +you, Polly, be temperate in your zeal." + +"You laugh at me," said Polly, "Well, never mind. I'm too happy to care. +I don't expect you'll talk about poisoning when you have eaten my +cheesecakes. And father, dear father, you _will_ let Paul and Virginia +come? Nell and I meant to speak to you yesterday about them, but you +were out all day. With me to housekeep, and Nell to look after +everybody, you needn't have the smallest fear about Paul and Virginia; +they can come and they can line your pockets, can't they?" + +"My dear child, I have not an idea what you are talking about. Who _are_ +Paul and Virginia--have I not a large enough family without taking in +the inhabitants of a desert island? There, I can't wait to hear +explanations now; that is my patients' bell--run away, my dear, run +away." + +Dr. Maybright always saw his poorer patients gratis on Saturday morning +from ten to twelve. This part of his work pleased him, for he was the +sort of man who thought that the affectionate and grateful glance in the +eye, and the squeeze of the hand, and the "God bless you, doctor," paid +in many cases better than the guinea's worth. He had an interesting case +this morning, and again Polly and her housekeeping slipped from his +mind. He was surprised, therefore, in the interim between the departure +of one patient and the arrival of another, to hear a somewhat tremulous +tap at his study door, and on his saying "Come in," to see the pretty +but decidedly ruffled face of his housemaid Alice presenting herself. + +"Ef you please, Doctor, I won't keep you a minute, but I thought I'd ask +you myself ef it's your wish as Miss Polly should go and give orders +that on Monday morning I'm to turn the linen-press out from top to +bottom, and to do it first of all before the rooms is put straight. And +if I'm to unpick the blue muslin curtains, and take them down from where +they was hung by my late blessed mistress's orders, in the spare room, +and to fit them into the primrose room over the porch--for she says +there's a Miss Virginy and a Master Paul coming, and the primrose room +with the blue curtains is for one of them, she says. And I want to know +from you, please, Doctor, if Miss Polly is to mistress it over me? And +to take away the keys of the linen-press from me, and to follow me +round, and to upset all my work, what I never stood, nor would stand. I +want to know if it's your wish, Doctor?" + +"The fact is, Alice," began the Doctor--he put his hand to his brow, +and a dim look came over his eyes--"the fact is--ah, that is my +patients' bell, I must ask you to go, Alice, and to--to moderate your +feelings. I have been anxious to give Miss Polly a lesson in experience, +and it is only for a week. You will oblige me very much, Alice, by +helping me in this matter." + +The Doctor walked to the door as he spoke, and opened it courteously. + +"Come in, Johnson," he said, to a ruddy-faced farmer, who was +accompanied by a shy boy with a swelled face. "Come in; glad to see you, +my friend. Is Tommy's toothache better?" + +Alice said afterwards that she never felt smaller in her life than when +Dr. Maybright opened the study door to show her out. + +"Ef I'd been a queen he couldn't have done it more elegant," she +remarked. "Eh, but he's a blessed man, and one would put up with two +Miss Pollys for the sake of serving him." + +The Doctor having conquered Alice, again forgot his second daughter's +vagaries, but a much sterner and more formidable interview was in store +for him; it was one thing to conquer Alice, who was impressionable, and +had a soft heart, and another to encounter the stony visage and rather +awful presence of Mrs. Power. + +"It's to give notice I've come, Dr. Maybright," she said, dropping a +curtsey, and twisting a corner of her large white apron round with one +formidable red hand. "It's to give notice. This day month, please, +Doctor, and, though I says it as shouldn't, you won't get no one else to +jelly your soups, nor feather your potatoes, nor puff your pastry, as +Jane Power has done. But there's limits, Dr. Maybright; and I has come +to give you notice, though out of no disrespect to you, sir." + +"Then why do you do it, Mrs. Power?" said the Doctor. "You are an honest +and conscientious servant, I know that from your late mistress's +testimony. You cook very good dinners too, and you make suitable +puddings for the children, and pastry not too rich. Why do you want to +leave? I don't like change; and, if it is a question of wages, perhaps I +may be able to meet you." + +"I'm obligated to you, Doctor; but it ain't that. I has my twenty-two +pounds paid regular, and all found. I ain't grumbling on that score, and +Jane Power was never havaricious nor grasping. I'm obligated too by what +you says with respect to the pastry; but, Doctor, it ain't in mortal +woman to stand a chit of a child being put over her. So I'm going this +day month; and, with your leave, I'll turn the key in the kitchen-door +next week, or else I'll forfeit my wage and go at once." + +"Dear, dear," said the Doctor. "This is really embarrassing. I never +thought that Polly's experience would upset the household economy in so +marked a manner. I am really annoyed, for I certainly gave her leave to +housekeep for a week." + +"It isn't as I minds youth, Dr. Maybright," continued Mrs. Power. "I +makes due allowances for the young, for I says to myself, 'Jane Power, +you was once, so to speak, like an unfledged chick yourself;' but +there's youth _and_ youth, Dr. Maybright; and Miss Polly's of the kind +as makes your 'air stand on hend." + +"Poor Polly," said the Doctor. + +"No, sir, begging your parding, if you was in the kitchen, it's 'poor +Mrs. Power' you'd be a-saying. Now I don't say nothing agin Miss +Nelly--she's the elder, and she have nice ways with her--she takes a +little bit after my poor dear mistress; oh, what a nature was hers, +blessed angel!" + +Here Mrs. Power rolled her eyes skywards, and the Doctor, turning his +back, walked to the window. + +"Be brief," he said, "I am pressed for time." + +"Sir, I was never one for long words; agen' Miss Helen I haven't a word +to say. She comes down to the kitchen after breakfast as pretty as you +please, and she says, 'Power,' says she, 'you'll advise me about the +dinner to-day,' says she. 'Shall we have minced collops, or roast beef? +And shall we have fruit tart with custard?' Pretty dear, she don't know +nothink, and she owns it, and I counsel her, as who that wasn't the most +hard-hearted would. But Miss Polly, she's all on wires like, and she +bounds in and she says that I pepper the soup too strong, and that I +ought to go to cookery schools, and ef I'll go with her that blessed +minit she'll tell me what I wants in my own store-room. There's limits. +Dr. Maybright, and Miss Polly's my limits; so, ef you'll have no +objection, sir, I'll go this day month." + +"But I have an objection," replied Dr. Maybright. "Even Polly's +experiment must not cost me a valuable servant. Mrs. Power, I have +promised my little girl, and I feel more than convinced that her week's +trial will ensure to you the freedom you desire and deserve in the +future. Listen, I have a plan. Suppose you go for a week's holiday on +Monday?" + +"Oh, my word, sir! And are you to be poisoned hout and hout?" + +"That is unlikely. Maggie, your kitchen-maid, is fond of cooking, and +she won't quarrel with Miss Polly. Let us consider it arranged, then. A +week's holiday won't do you any harm, cook, and your expenses I will +defray. Now, excuse me, I must go out at once. The carriage has been at +the door for some time." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +INDIGESTION WEEK. + + +It was quite early on the following Monday morning when a light tap was +heard outside the door of the room where Helen and Polly slept. It was a +very light, modest, and uncertain tap, and it has not the smallest +effect upon Helen, who lay in soft slumber, her pretty eyes closed, her +gentle face calm and rounded and child-like, and the softest breathing +coming from her rosy, parted lips. + +Another little girl, however, was not asleep. At that modest tap up +sprang a curly head, two dark, bright eyes opened wide, two white feet +sprang quickly but noiselessly on to the floor, and Polly had opened the +bedroom door wide to admit the short, dumpy, but excited little person +of Maggie, the kitchen-maid. + +"She's a-going, Miss Polly--she's a-packing her bandbox now, and +putting the strap on. She's in a hawful temper, but she'll be out of the +house in less than half an hour. There's a beautiful fire in the +kitchen, Miss, and the pan for frying bacon is polished up so as you +could 'most see yourself in it. And the egg-saucepan is there all 'andy, +and the kettle fizzing and sputtering. I took cook up her breakfast, but +she said she didn't want none of our poisonous messes, and she'd +breakfast with her cousin in the village if we'd no objection. She'll be +gone in no time now, Miss Polly, and I'm a-wanting to know when you'll +be a-coming down stairs." + +"I'm going to dress immediately, Maggie," said Polly. "I've scarcely +slept all night, for this is an anxious moment for me. I'll join you in +half an hour at the latest, Maggie, and have lots of saucepans and +frying-pans and gridirons ready. Keep the fire well up too, and see that +the oven is hot. There, fly away, I'll join you soon." + +Maggie, who was only sixteen herself, almost skipped down the passage. +After the iron reign of Mrs. Power, to work for Polly seemed like play +to her. + +"She's a duck," she said to herself, "a real cozy duck of a young lady. +Oh, my word, won't we spin through the stores this week! Won't we just!" + +Meanwhile Polly was hastily getting into her clothes. She did not wish +to wake Helen, for she was most anxious that no one should know that on +the first morning of her housekeeping she had arisen soon after six +o'clock. Her plans were all laid beforehand, and a wonderfully +methodical and well arranged programme, considering her fourteen years, +was hers; she was all agog with eagerness to carry it out. + +"Oh, won't they have a breakfast this morning," she said to herself. +"Won't they open their eyes, and won't Bob and Bunny look greedy. And +Firefly--I must watch Firefly over those hot cakes, or she may make +herself sick. Poor father and Nell--they'll both be afraid at first +that I'm a little too lavish and inclined to be extravagant, but they'll +see by-and-by, and they'll acknowledge deep down in their hearts that +there never was such a housekeeper as Polly." + +As the little maid dreamed these pleasant thoughts she scrambled +somewhat untidily into her clothes, gave her hair a somewhat less +careful brush than usual, and finally knelt down to say her morning +prayer. Helen still slept, and Polly by a sudden impulse chose to kneel +by Helen's bed and not her own. She pressed her curly head against the +mattress, and eagerly whispered her petitions. She was excited and +sanguine, for this was to her a moment of triumph; but as she prayed a +feeling of rest and yet of longing overpowered her. + +"Oh, I am happy to-day," she murmured--"but oh, mother, oh, mother, I'd +give everything in all the wide world to have you back again! I'd live +on bread and water--I'd spend years in a garret just for you to kiss me +once again, mother, mother!" + +Helen stirred in her sleep, for Polly's last impulsive words were spoken +aloud. + +"Has mother come back?" she asked. + +Her eyes were closed, she was dreaming. Polly bent down and answered +her. + +"No," she said. "It is only me--the most foolish of all her children, +who wants her so dreadfully." + +Helen sighed, and turned her head uneasily, and Polly, wiping away some +moisture from her eyes, ran out of the room. + +Her housekeeping apron was on, her precious money box was under her arm, +the keys of the linen-press jingled against a thimble and a couple of +pencils in the front pocket of the apron. Polly was going down stairs to +fulfill her great mission; it was impossible for her spirits long to be +downcast. The house was deliciously still, for only the servants were up +at present, but the sun sent in some rays of brightness at the large +lobby windows, and the little girl laughed aloud in her glee. + +"Good morning, sun! it is nice of you to smile at me the first morning +of my great work. It is very good-natured of you to come instead of +sending that disagreeable friend of yours, Mr. Rain. Oh, how delicious +it is to be up early. Why, it is not half-past six yet--oh, what a +breakfast I shall prepare for father!" + +In the kitchen, which was a large, cheerful apartment looking out on the +vegetable garden, Polly found her satellite, Maggie, on the very tiptoe +of expectation. + +"I has laid the servants' breakfast in the 'all, Miss Polly; I thought +as you shouldn't be bothered with them, with so to speak such a lot on +your hands this morning. So I has laid it there, and lit a fire for +them, and all Jane has to do when she's ready is to put the kettle on, +for the tea's on the table in the small black caddy, so there'll be no +worriting over them. And ef you please, Miss Polly, I made bold to have +a cup of tea made and ready for you, Miss--here it is, if you please, +Miss, and a cut off the brown home-made loaf." + +"Delicious," said Polly; "I really am as hungry as possible, although I +did not know it until I saw this nice brown bread-and-butter. Why, you +have splendid ideas in you, Maggie; you'll make a first-rate cook yet. +But now"--here the young housekeeper thought it well to put on a severe +manner--"I must know what breakfast you have arranged for the servants' +hall. It was good-natured of you to think of saving me trouble, Maggie, +but please understand that during this week you do nothing on your own +responsibility. _I_ am the housekeeper, and although I don't say I am +old, I am quite old enough to be obeyed." + +"Very well, Miss," said Maggie, who had gone to open her oven, and poke +up the fire while Polly was speaking; "it's a weight off my shoulders, +Miss, for I wasn't never one to be bothered with thinking. Mother says +as I haven't brains as would go on the top of a sixpenny-bit, so what's +to be expected of me, Miss. There, the oven's all of a beautiful glow, +and 'ull bake lovely. You was asking what breakfast I has put in the +servants' 'all--well, cold bacon and plenty of bread, and a good pat of +the cooking butter. Why, Miss Polly, oh, lor, what is the matter, Miss?" + +"Only that you have done very wrong, Maggie," said Polly. "You would not +like to have lots of good things going up to the dining-room, and have +no share yourself. I call it selfish of you, Maggie, for of course you +knew you would be in the kitchen with me, and would be sure to come in +for bits. Cold bacon, indeed! Poor servants, they're not likely to care +for my housekeeping if that is all I provide for them! No, Maggie, when +I made out my programme, I thought of the servants as well as the +family. I will just refer to my tablets, Maggie, and see what breakfast +I arranged for the hall for Monday morning." + +While Polly was speaking Maggie opened her eyes and mouth wider and +wider and when the young lady read aloud from her tablets she could not +suppress an expostulatory "oh!" + +"Monday--kitchen breakfast," read Polly--"Bacon, eggs, marmalade, +sardines. Hot coffee, fresh rolls, if possible." + +"My word, but that is wasteful," said Maggie. + +Polly's cheeks flushed. She glanced at her small handmaid, raised her +hand in a reproving manner, and continued to read-- + +"Dining-room breakfast: Hot scones, baked muffins, eggs and bacon, +deviled kidneys, scrambled eggs, a dish of kippered herrings, marmalade, +honey, jam, tea and coffee. Oh, and chocolate for Firefly." + +"My word, Miss," again exclaimed Maggie. "It's seven o'clock now, and +the Doctor likes his breakfast sharp on the table at eight. If we has to +get all this ready in an hour we had better fly round and lose no more +time. I'll see to the 'all, bless your kind 'eart, Miss Polly, but we'd +better get on with the dining-room breakfast, or there'll be nothing +ready in anything like time. Will you mix up the cakes, Miss Polly, +while I sees to the kidneys, and to the bacon and eggs, and the +scrambled eggs, and the kippers. My word, but there'll be a power more +sent up than can be eaten. But whatever goes wrong we should have the +cakes in the oven, Miss Polly." + +Polly did not altogether approve of Maggie's tone, but time did press; +the kitchen clock already pointed to five minutes past seven; it was +much easier to write out a programme upstairs at one's leisure in the +pleasant morning-room than to carry it out in a hurry, in the hot +kitchen, particularly when one's own knowledge was entirely theoretical, +not practical. Yes, the kitchen was very hot, and time never seemed to +fly so fast. + +"First of all, open the window, Maggie; it is wrong to have rooms so hot +as this," said the young housekeeper, putting on her most authoritative +air. + +"No, Miss, that I mustn't," said Maggie, firmly. "You'd cool down the +oven in less than five minutes. Now, shall I fetch you the flour and +things from the store-room, Miss? Why, dear me, your cheeks has peonyed +up wonderful. You're new to it yet, Miss, but you'll soon take it +quiet-like. Cold bacon is a very nice breakfast for the 'all, Miss, and +cooking butter's all that servants is expected to eat of. Now shall I +fetch you the flour and the roller, and the milk, Miss Polly?" + +"Yes, get them," said Polly. She felt decidedly annoyed and cross. "I +wish you would not talk so much, Maggie," she said, "go and fetch the +materials for the hot cakes." + +"But I don't know yet what I'm to get, Miss. Is it a dripping cake, or +is it a cream cake, or is it a butter-and-egg cake? I'll bring you +things according, Miss Polly, if you'll be so good as to instruct me." + +"Oh dear, oh dear," said Polly, "you make my head go round, when you +mention so many kinds of cake, Maggie. I really thought you knew +something of cooking. I just want _hot cakes_. I don't care what kind +they are; oh, I suppose we had better have the richest to-day. Get the +material for the butter-and-egg cake, Maggie, and do be quick." + +Thus admonished, Maggie did move off with a dubious look on her face in +the direction of the store-room. + +"She don't know nothing, poor dear," she said to herself; "she aims +high--she's eat up with ambition, but she don't know nothing. It's +lucky we in the 'all is to have the cold bacon. _I_ don't know how to +make a butter-and-egg hot cake--oh, my word, a fine scolding Mrs. Power +will give us when she comes back." + +Here Maggie approached the store-room door. Then she uttered a loud and +piercing exclamation and flew back to Polly. + +"She's gone and done us, Miss Polly," she exclaimed. "She's gone and +done us! Cook's off, and the key of the store-room in her pocket. +There's nothing for breakfast, Miss Polly--no eggs, no butter, no +marmalade, no sugar, no nothing." + +Poor Polly's rosy, little face turned white. + +"It can't be true," she said. And she flew down the passage to the +store-room herself. Alas! only to peep through the key-hole, for the +inhospitable door was firmly locked, and nowhere could the key be +discovered. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +A--WAS AN APPLE PIE. + + +The first day of Polly's housekeeping was long remembered in the +household. In the first place, the breakfast, though fairly abundant, +was plain. A large piece of cold bacon graced one end of the board, a +brown loaf stood on a trencher in the center, and when Helen took her +place opposite the tea-tray she found herself provided with plenty of +milk and sugar, certainly, and a large tea-pot of strong tea, but the +sugar was brown. No butter, no marmalade, no jams, no hot cakes, graced +the board. The children spoke of the fare as severe, and the Doctor's +dark brown eyes twinkled as he helped his family to abundant slices of +cold bacon. + +"Not a word," he said, in a loud aside to his boys and girls. "I did not +think it was in Polly to be so sensible. Why, we shall get through +indigestion week quite comfortably, if she provides us with plain, +wholesome fare like this." + +Polly took her own place at the table rather late. Her cheeks were still +peonyed, as Maggie expressed it, her eyes were downcast, her spirits +were decidedly low, and she had a very small appetite. + +After breakfast she beat a hasty retreat, and presently the boys rushed +in in great excitement, to announce to Helen and Katie the interesting +fact that Polly was walking across the fields accompanied by Maggie, +each of them laden with a large market-basket. + +"They are almost running, both of them," exclaimed Bunny, "and pretty +Poll is awful cross, for when we wanted to go with her she just turned +round and said we'd have a worse dinner than breakfast if we didn't +leave her alone." + +"We ran away quickly enough after that," continued Bob, "for we didn't +want no more cold-bacon and no-butter meals. We had a nasty breakfast +to-day, hadn't we, Nell? And Poll is a bad housekeeper, isn't she?" + +"Oh, leave her alone, do," said Helen. "She is trying her very best. Run +out and play, boys, and don't worry about the meals." + +The two boys, known in the family as "the scamps," quickly took their +departure, and Katie began to talk in her most grown-up manner to Helen. +Katie was a demure little damsel, she was fond of using long words, and +thought no one in the world like Helen, whom she copied in all +particulars. + +"Poll is too ambitious, and she's sure to fail," she began. But Helen +shut her up. + +"If Polly does fail, you'll be dreadfully sorry, I'm sure, Katie," she +said. "I know I shall be sorry. It will make me quite unhappy, for I +never saw any one take more pains about a thing than Polly has taken +over her housekeeping. Yes, it will be very sad if Polly fails; but I +don't think she will, for she is really a most clever girl. Now, Katie, +will you read your English History lesson aloud?" + +Katie felt crushed. In her heart of hearts she thought even her beloved +Helen a little too lenient. + +"Never mind," she said to herself, "won't Dolly and Mabel have a fine +gossip with me presently over the breakfast Polly gave us this morning." + +Meanwhile the anxious, small housekeeper was making her way as rapidly +as possible in the direction of the village. + +"We haven't a minute to lose, Maggie," she said, as they trudged along. +"Can you remember the list of things I gave you to buy at the grocery +shop? It is such a pity you can't read, Maggie, for if you could I'd +have written them down for you." + +"It wasn't the Board's fault, nor my mother's," answered Maggie, glibly. +"It was all on account of my brain being made to fit on the top of a +sixpence. Yes, Miss, I remembers the list, and I'll go to Watson's and +the butcher's while you runs on to the farm for the butter and eggs." + +"You have got to get ten things," proceeded Polly; "don't forget, ten +things at the grocer's. You had better say the list over to me." + +"All right, Miss Polly, ten; I can tick one off on each finger: white +sugar, coffee, rice, marmalade, strawberry jam, apricot jam, mustard, +pickles--is they mixed or plain, Miss Polly?--raisins, currants. +There, Miss, I has them all as pat as possible." + +"Well, stop a minute," said Polly. "I'm going to unlock my box now. Hold +it for me, Maggie, while I open it. Here, I'm going to take +half-a-sovereign out of the grocery division. You must take this +half-sovereign to Watson's, and pay for the things. I have not an idea +how much they cost, but I expect you'll have a good lot of change to +give me. After that, you are to go on to the butcher's, and buy four +pounds of beef-steak. Here is another half-sovereign that you will have +to pay the butcher out of. Be sure you don't mix the change, Maggie. Pop +the butcher's change into one pocket, and the grocer's change into +another. Now, do you know what we are going to have for dinner?" + +"No, Miss, I'm sure I don't. I expect it'll sound big to begin with, and +end small, same as the breakfast did. Why, Miss Polly, you didn't think +cold bacon good enough for the servants, and yet you set it down in the +end afore your pa." + +Polly looked hard at Maggie. She suddenly began to think her not at all +a nice girl. + +"I was met by adversity," she said. "It is wrong of you to speak to me +in that tone, Maggie; Mrs. Power behaved very badly, and I could not +help myself; but she need not think she is going to beat me, and +whatever I suffer, I scorn to complain. To-night, after every one is in +bed, I am going to make lots of pies and tarts, and cakes, and +cheesecakes. You will have to help me; but we will talk of that +by-and-by. Now, I want to speak about the dinner. It must be simple +to-day. We will have a beef-steak pudding and pancakes. Do you know how +to toss pancakes, Maggie?" + +"Oh, lor', Miss," said Maggie, "I did always love to see mother at it. +She used to toss 'em real beautiful, and I'm sure I could too. That's a +very nice dinner, Miss, 'olesome and good, and you'll let me toss the +pancakes, won't you, Miss Polly?" + +"Well, you may try, Maggie. But here we are at the village. Now, please, +go as quickly as possible to Watson's, and the butcher's, and meet me at +this stile in a quarter of an hour. Be very careful of the change, +Maggie, and be sure you put the butcher's in one pocket and the grocer's +in another. Don't mix them--everything depends on your not mixing them, +Maggie." + +The two girls parted, each going quickly in opposite directions. Polly +had a successful time at the farm, and when she once again reached the +turnstile her basket contained two dozen new-laid eggs, two or three +pounds of delicious fresh butter, and a small jug of cream. The farmer's +wife, Mrs. White, had been very pleased to see her, and had complimented +her on her discernment in choosing the butter and eggs. Her spirits were +now once again excellent, and she began to forget the sore injury Mrs. +Power had done her by locking the store-room door. + +"It's all lovely," she said to herself; "it's all turning out as +pleasant as possible. The breakfast was nothing, they'd have forgotten +the best breakfast by now, and they'll have such a nice dinner. I can +easily make a fruit tart for father, as well as the pancakes, and won't +he enjoy Mrs. White's nice cream? It was very good of her to give it to +me; and it was very cheap, too--only eighteenpence. But, dear me, dear +me, how I wish Maggie would come!" + +There was no sign, however, of any stout, unwieldy young person walking +down the narrow path which led to the stile. Strain her eyes as she +would, Polly could not see any sign of Maggie approaching. She waited +for another five minutes, and then decided to go home without her. + +"For she may have gone round by the road," she said to herself, +"although it was very naughty of her if she did so, for I told her to be +sure to meet me at the turnstile. Still I can't wait for her any longer, +for I must pick the fruit for my tart, and I ought to see that Alice is +doing what I told her about the new curtains." + +Off trotted Polly with her heavy basket once again across the fields. It +was a glorious September day, and the soft air fanned her cheeks and +raised her already excited spirits. She felt more cheerful than she had +done since her mother died, and many brilliant visions of hope filled +her ambitious little head. Yes, father would see that he was right in +trusting her; Nell would discover that there was no one so clever as +Polly; Mrs. Power would cease to defy her; Alice would obey her +cheerfully; in short, she would be the mainstay and prop of her family. + +On her way through the kitchen-garden Polly picked up a number of fallen +apples, and then she went quickly into the house, to be met on the +threshold by Firefly. + +"Oh, Poll Parrot, may I come down with you to the kitchen? I'd love to +see you getting the dinner ready, and I could help, indeed I could. The +others are all so cross; that is, all except Nell. Katie _is_ in a +temper, and so are Dolly and Mabel; but I stood up for you, Poll Parrot, +for I said you didn't mean to give us the very nastiest breakfast in the +world. I said it was just because you weren't experienced enough to know +any better--that's what I said, Poll." + +"Well, you made a great mistake then," said Polly. "Not experienced, +indeed! as if I didn't know what a good breakfast was like. I had a +misfortune; a dark deed was done, and I was the victim, but I scorn to +complain, I let you all think as you like. No, you can't come to the +kitchen with me, Firefly; it isn't a fit place for children. Run away +now, _do_." + +Poor Fly's small face grew longing and pathetic, but Polly was obdurate. + +"I can't have children about," she said to herself, and soon she was +busy peeling her apples and preparing her crust for the pie. She +succeeded fairly well, although the water with which she mixed her dough +would run all over the board, and her nice fresh butter stuck in the +most provoking way to the rolling-pin. Still, the pie was made, after a +fashion, and Polly felt very happy, as she amused herself cutting out +little ornamental leaves from what remained of her pastry to decorate +it. It was a good-sized tart, and when she had crowned it with a wreath +of laurel leaves she thought she had never seen anything so handsome and +appetizing. Alas, however, for poor Polly, the making of this pie was +her one and only triumph. + +The morning had gone very fast, while she was walking to the village +securing her purchases, and coming home again. She was startled when she +looked at the kitchen clock to find that it pointed to a quarter past +twelve. At the same time she discovered that the kitchen fire was nearly +out, and that the oven was cold. Father always liked the early dinner to +be on the table sharp at one o'clock; it would never, never do for +Polly's first dinner to be late. She must not wait any longer for that +naughty Maggie; she must put coals on the fire herself, and wash the +potatoes, and set them on to boil. + +This was scarcely the work of an ordinary lady-like housekeeper; but +Polly tried to fancy she was in Canada, or in even one of the less +civilized settlements, where ladies put their hands to anything, and +were all the better for it. + +She had a great hunt to find the potatoes, and when she had washed +them--which it must be owned she did not do at all well--she had +still greater difficulty in selecting a pot which would hold them. She +found one at last, and with some difficulty placed it on the +kitchen-range. She had built up her fire with some skill, but was +dismayed to find that, try as she would, she could get no heat into the +oven. The fact was, she had not the least idea how to direct the draught +in the right direction; and although the fire burned fiercely, and the +potatoes soon began to bubble and smoke, the oven, which was to cook +poor Polly's tart, remained cold and irresponsive. + +Well, cold as it was, she would put her pie in, for time was flying as +surely it had never flown before and it was dreadful to think that there +would be nothing at all for dinner but potatoes. + +Oh, why did not that wicked Maggie come! Really Polly did not know that +any one could be quite so depraved and heartless as Maggie was turning +out. She danced about the kitchen in her impatience, and began to think +she understood something of the wickedness of those cities described in +the Bible, which were destroyed by fire on account of their sins, and +also of the state of the world before the Flood came. + +"They were all like Maggie," she said to herself. "I really never heard +of any one before who was quite so hopelessly bad as Maggie." + +The kitchen clock pointed to the half hour, and even to twenty minutes +to one. It was hopeless to think of pancakes now--equally hopeless to +consider the possibilities of a beef-steak pudding. They would be very +lucky if they had steak in any form. Still, if Maggie came at once that +might be managed, and nice potatoes, beef-steak, apple-tart and cream +would be better than no dinner at all. + +Just at this moment, when Polly's feelings were almost reduced to +despair, she was startled by a queer sound, which gradually came nearer +and nearer. It was the sound of some one sobbing, and not only sobbing, +but crying aloud with great violence. The kitchen door was suddenly +burst open, and dishevelled, tear-stained, red-faced Maggie rushed in, +and threw herself on her knees at Polly's feet. + +"I has gone and done it, Miss Polly," she exclaimed. "I was +distraught-like, and my poor little bit of a brain seemed to give way +all of a sudden. Mother's in a heap of trouble, Miss Polly. I went round +to see her, for it was quite a short cut to Watson's, round by mother's, +and mother she were in an awful fixing. She hadn't nothing for the rent, +Miss Polly, 'cause the fruit was blighted this year; and the landlord +wouldn't give her no more grace, 'cause his head is big and his heart is +small, same as 'tis other way with me, Miss Polly, and the bailiffs was +going to seize mother's little bits of furniture, and mother she was +most wild. So my head it seemed to go, Miss Polly, and I clutched hold +of the half-sovereign in the butcher's pocket, and the half-sovereign in +the grocer's pocket, and I said to mother, 'Miss Polly'll give 'em to +you, 'cause it's a big heart as Miss Polly has got. They was meant for +the family dinner, but what's dinner compared to your feelings.' So +mother she borrowed of the money, Miss Polly, and I hasn't brought home +nothink; I hasn't, truly, miss." + +Maggie's narrative was interspersed with very loud sobs, and fierce +catches of her breath, and her small eyes were almost sunken out of +sight. + +"Oh, I know you're mad with me," she said, in conclusion. "But what's +dinner compared with mother's feelings. Oh, Miss Polly, don't look at me +like that!" + +"Get up," said Polly, severely. "You are just like the people before the +Flood; I understand about them at last. I cannot speak to you now, for +we have not a moment to lose. Can you make the oven hot? There are only +potatoes for dinner, unless the apple tart can be got ready in time." + +"Oh, lor'! Miss Polly, I'll soon set that going--why, you has the wrong +flue out, Miss. See now, the heat's going round it lovely. Oh, what an +elegant pie you has turned out, Miss Polly! Why, it's quite wonderful! +You has a gift in the cookery line, Miss. Oh, darling Miss Polly, don't +you be a-naming of me after them Flooders; it's awful to think I'm like +one of they. It's all on account of mother, Miss Polly. It would have +gone to your heart, Miss Polly, if you seen mother a-looking at the +eight-day clock and thinking of parting from it. Her tears made channels +on her cheeks, Miss Polly, and it was 'eart-piercing to view her. Oh, do +take back them words, Miss Polly. Don't say as I'm a Flooder." + +Polly certainly had a soft heart, and although nothing could have +mortified her more than the present state of affairs, she made up her +mind to screen Maggie, and to be as little severe to her as she could. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +POTATOES--MINUS POINT. + + +Dr. Maybright had reason again to congratulate himself when he sat down +to a humble dinner of boiled potatoes. + +"If this regimen continues for a week," he said, under his breath, "we +must really resort to tonics. I perceive I did Polly a gross injustice. +She does not mean to make us ill with rich living." + +The doctor ate his potatoes with extreme cheerfulness, remarking as he +did so on their nutritive qualities, and explaining to his discontented +family how many people lived on these excellent roots. "The only thing +we want," he said, "is a red herring; we might then have that most +celebrated of all Irish dishes--'potatoes and point.'" + +"Do tell us what that is, father," said Helen, who was anxious to draw +the direful glances of the rest of the family from poor Polly. + +"'Potatoes and point,'" said Dr. Maybright, raising his head for a +moment, while a droll glance filled his eye, "is a simple but economical +form of diet. The herring is hung by a string over the center of the +board, and each person before he eats his potato points it at the +herring; by so doing a subtle flavor of herring is supposed to be +imparted to the potato. The herring lasts for some time, so the diet is +really a cheap one. Poll, dear, what is the matter? I never saw these +excellent apples of the earth better cooked." + +Polly was silent; her blushing cheeks alone betrayed her. She was +determined to make a good meal, and was sustained by the consciousness +that she had not betrayed Maggie, and the hope that the apple-tart would +prove excellent. + +It certainly was a noble apple-pie, and the faces of the children quite +cheered up at the sight of it. They were very hungry, and were not +particular as to the quality of the crust. Mrs. White's cream, too, was +delicious, so the second part of Polly's first dinner quite turned out a +success. + +After the meal had come to an end, Helen called her second sister aside. + +"Polly," she said, "I think we ought to speak to father now about the +strangers' coming. Time is going on, and if they come we ought to begin +to prepare for them, and the more I think of it the more sure I am that +they ought to come." + +"All right," said Polly. "Only, is this a good time to speak to father? +For I am quite sure he must be vexed with me." + +"You must not think so, Polly," said Helen, kissing her. "Father has +given you a week to try to do your best in, and he won't say anything +one way or another until the time is up. Come into his study now, for I +know he is there, and we really ought to speak to him." + +Polly's face was still flushed, but the Doctor, who had absolutely +forgotten the simplicity of his late meal, received both the girls with +equal affection. + +"Well, my loves," he said, "can I do anything for you? I am going for a +pleasant drive into the country this afternoon. Would you both like to +come?" + +"I should very much," said Helen; but Polly, with a somewhat important +little sigh, remarked that household matters would keep her at home. + +"Well, my dear, you must please yourself. But can I do anything for +either of you now? You both look full of business." + +"We are, father," said Polly, who was always the impetuous one. "We want +to know if Paul and Virginia may come." + +"My dear, this is the second time you have spoken to me of those +deserted orphans. I don't understand you." + +"It is this, father," explained Helen. "We think the children from +Australia--the children mother was arranging about--might come here +still. We mean that Polly and I would like them to come, and that we +would do our best for them. We think, Polly and I do, that mother, even +though she is not here, would still like the strangers to come." + +"Sit down, Helen," said the Doctor; the harassed look had once again +come across his face, and even Polly noticed the dimness in his eyes. + +"You must not undertake too much, you two," he said. "You are only +children. You are at an age to miss your mother at every turn. We had +arranged to have a boy and girl from Australia to live here, but when +your mother--your mother was taken--I gave up the idea. It was too +late to stop their coming to England, but I think I can provide a +temporary home for them when they get to London. You need not trouble +your head about the strange children, Nell." + +"It is not that," said Polly. "We don't know them yet, so of course we +don't love them, but we wish them to come here, because we wish for +their money. It will be eight pounds a week; just what you spend on the +house, you know, father." + +"What a little economist!" said Dr. Maybright, stretching out his hand +and drawing Polly to him. "Yes, I was to receive L400 a year for the +children, and it would have been a help, certainly it would have been a +help by and by. Still, my dear girls, I don't see how it is to be +managed." + +"But really, father, we are so many that two more make very little +difference," explained Helen. "Polly and I are going to try hard to be +steady and good, and we think it would certainly please mother if you +let the strangers come here, and we tried to make them happy. If you +would meet them, father, and bring them here just at first, we might see +how we got on." + +"I might," said the Doctor in a meditative voice, "and L400 is a good +deal of money. It is not easily earned, and with a large family it is +always wanted. That's what your mother said, and she was very wise. +Still, still, children, I keep forgetting how old you are. In reality +you are, neither of you, grown up; in reality Polly is quite a child, +and you, my wise little Nell, are very little more. I have offended your +aunt, Mrs. Cameron, as it is, and what will she say if I yield to you on +this point? Still, still----" + +"Oh, father, don't mind what that tiresome Aunt Maria says or thinks on +any subject," said Polly. "Why should we mind her, she wasn't mother's +real sister. We scarcely know her at all, and she scarcely knows us. We +don't like her, and we are sure she doesn't like us. Why should she +spoil our lives, and prevent our helping you? For it would help you to +have the strangers here, wouldn't it, father?" + +"By and by it would," answered the Doctor. "By and by it would help me +much." + +Again the troubled expression came to his face and the dimness was +perceptible in his eyes. + +"You will let us try it, father," said Helen. "We can but fail; girls as +young as us have done as much before. I am sure girls as young as we are +have done harder things before, so why should not we try?" + +"I am a foolish old man," said the Doctor. "I suppose I shall be blamed +for this, not that it greatly matters. Well, children, let it be as you +wish. I will go and meet the boy and girl in London, and bring them to +the Hollow. We can have them for a month, and if we fail, children," +added the Doctor, a twinkle of amusement overspreading his face, "we +won't tell any one but ourselves. It is quite possible that in the +future we shall be comparatively poor if we cannot manage to make that +boy and girl from Australia comfortable and happy; but Polly there has +taught us how to economize, for we can always fall back on potatoes and +point." + +"Oh--oh--oh, father," came from Polly's lips. + +"That is unkind, dear father," said Helen. + +But they both hung about his neck and kissed him, and when Dr. Maybright +drove away that afternoon on his usual round of visits, his heart felt +comparatively light, and he owned to himself that those girls of his, +with all their eccentricities, were a great comfort to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +IN THE ATTIC. + + +There is no saying how Polly's week of housekeeping might have ended, +nor how substantial her castle in the air might have grown, had not a +catastrophe occurred to her of a double and complex nature. + +The first day during which Polly and Maggie, between them, catered for +and cooked the family meals, produced a plain diet in the shape of cold +bacon for breakfast, and a dinner of potatoes, minus "point." But on the +Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday of that week Maggie quite redeemed her +character of being a Flooder, and worked under Polly with such goodwill +that, as she herself expressed it, her small brains began to grow. +Fortunately, Mrs. Ricketts, Maggie's mother, was not obliged to meet her +rent every day of the week, therefore no more of Polly's four pounds +went in that direction. And Polly read Mrs. Beaton's Cookery-book with +such assiduity, and Maggie carried out her directions with such implicit +zeal and good faith, that really most remarkable meals began to grace +the Doctor's board. Pastry in every imaginable form and guise, cakes of +all descriptions; vegetables, so cooked and so flavored, that their +original taste was completely obliterated; meats cooked in German, +Italian, and American styles; all these things, and many more, graced +the board and speedily vanished. The children became decidedly excited +about the meals, and Polly was cheered and regarded as a sort of queen. +The Doctor sighed, however, and counted the days when Nell and Mrs. +Power should once more peacefully reign in Polly's stead. Nurse asked +severely to have all the nursery medicine bottles replenished. Firefly +looked decidedly pasty, and, after one of Polly's richest plum-cakes, +with three tiers of different colored icings, Bunny was heard crying the +greater part of one night. Still the little cook and housekeeper bravely +pursued her career of glory, and all might have gone well, and Polly +might have worn a chastened halo of well-earned success round her brow +for the remainder of her natural life, but for the catastrophe of which +I am about to speak. + +Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday the family fared richly, and the +household jogged along somehow, but on Friday morning Dr. Maybright +suddenly surprised his girls by telling them that unexpected business +would call him to London immediately. He could not possibly return +before Monday, but he would get a certain Dr. Strong to see after his +patients, and would start for town by the mid-day train. + +The Doctor's portmanteau was quickly packed, and in what seemed a moment +of time after the receipt of the letter he had kissed his family and +bidden them good-by. Then her four younger sisters and the boys came +round Polly with a daring suggestion. + +"Let's sit up late, to-night, and have a real, jolly supper," they +begged. "Let's have it at nine o'clock, up in the large garret over the +front of the house; let it be a big supper, all kinds of good things; +ginger-beer and the rest, and let's invite some people to come and eat +it with us. Do Poll--do Poll, darling." + +"But," said Polly--she was dazzled by this glorious prospect--"I +haven't got a great deal of money," she said, "and Nurse will be very +angry, and Helen won't like it. For you know, children, you two boys and +Firefly, you are never allowed to sit up as late as nine o'clock." + +"But for once, Poll Parrot," exclaimed the three victims; "just for +once. We are sure father would not care, and we can coax Nell to +consent; and Nurse, as to Nurse, she thinks of no one but baby; we won't +choose the garret over baby. Do, do, do say 'yes,' darling Poll." + +"The dearest cook in all the world!" exclaimed Bunny, tossing his cap in +the air. + +"The queen of cake-makers," said Bob, turning head over heels. + +"The darlingest princess of all housekeepers," echoed Firefly, leaping +on her sister, and half-strangling her with a fierce embrace. + +"And we'll all subscribe," said the twins. + +"And it will really be delightfully romantic; something to remember when +you aren't housekeeper," concluded Katie. + +"I'd like it awfully," said Polly, "I don't pretend that I wouldn't, and +I've just found such a recipe for whipped cream. Do you know, girls, I +shouldn't be a bit surprised--I really shouldn't--if I turned out some +meringues made all by myself for supper. The only drawback is the money, +for Mrs. White does charge a lot for cream, and I don't mind owning to +you all, now that you are nice and sympathetic, that the reason you had +only potatoes for dinner on Monday was because Maggie and I met with a +misfortune; it was a money trouble," continued Polly, with an important +air, "and of course children like you cannot understand what money +troubles mean. They are wearing, very, and Maggie says she thinks I'm +beginning to show some crow's feet around my eyes on account of them. +But never mind, I'm not going to cast the shadows of money troubles on +you all, and this thing is not to be spoken of, only it makes me very +short now." + +"But we'll help you, Poll," said all the eager voices. "Let's fetch our +purses and see what we can spare." + +In a twinkling many odd receptacles for holding money made an +appearance, and the children between them found they could muster the +noble sum of six shillings. All this was handed to Polly, who said, +after profound deliberation, that she thought she could make it go +furthest and make most show in the purchase of cream and ginger-beer. + +"I'll scrape the rest together, somehow," she said, in conclusion, "and +Maggie will help me fine. Maggie's a real brick now, and her brains are +growing beautifully." + +But there was another point to be decided--Who were to be invited to +partake of the supper, and was Nurse to be told, and was Helen to be +consulted? + +Certainly Polly would not have ventured to carry out so daring a scheme +without Helen's consent and cooperation, if it had not happened that she +was away for the day. She had taken the opportunity to drive into the +nearest town five miles away with her father, and had arranged to spend +the day there, purchasing several necessary things, and calling on one +or two friends. + +"And it will be much too late to tell Nell when she comes back," voted +all the children. "If she makes a fuss then, and refuses to join, she +will spoil everything. We are bound too, to obey Helen, so we had much +better not give her the chance of saying 'no.' Let us pretend to go to +bed at our usual hour, and say nothing to either Nurse or Helen. We can +tell them to-morrow if we like, and they can only scold us. Yes, that is +the only thing to do, for it would never, never do to have such a jolly +plan spoilt." + +A unanimous vote was therefore carried that the supper in the garret was +to be absolutely secret and confidential, and, naughty as this plan of +carrying out their pleasure was, it must be owned that it largely +enhanced the fun. The next point to consider was, who were to be the +invited guests? There were no boys and girls of the children's own class +in life within an easy distance. + +"Therefore there is no one to ask," exclaimed Katie, in her shortest and +most objectionable manner. + +But here Firefly electrified her family by quoting Scripture. + +"When thou makest a supper," she began. + +All the others rose in a body and fell upon her. But she had started a +happy idea, and in consequence, Mrs. Ricketts' youngest son and +daughter, and the three very naughty and disreputable sons of Mrs. +Jones, the laundress, were invited to partake of the coming feast. + +The rest of the day passed to all appearance very soberly. Helen was +away. The Doctor's carriage neither came nor went; the Doctor himself, +with his kindly voice, and his somewhat brusque, determined manner, +awoke no echoes in the old house. Nurse was far away in the nursery +wing, with the pretty, brown-eyed baby and the children; all the girls +and the little boys were remarkably good. + +To those who are well acquainted with the habits and ways of young +folks, too much goodness is generally a suspicious circumstance. There +is a demure look, there is an instant obedience, there is an absence of +fretfulness, and an abnormal, although subdued, cheerfulness, which +arouses the watchful gaze of the knowing among mothers, governesses, and +nurses. + +Had Nurse been at dinner that day she might have been warned of coming +events by Bunny's excellent behavior; by Bob's rigid refusal to partake +twice of an unwholesome compound, which went by the name of iced +pudding; by Firefly's anxiety to be all that a good and proper little +girl should be. But Nurse, of course, had nothing to say to the family +dinner. Helen was away, the Doctor was nearing the metropolis, and the +little boys' daily governess was not dining with the family. + +These good children had no one to suspect them, and all went smoothly; +in short, the wheels of the house machinery never seemed more admirably +oiled. + +True, had any one listened very closely there might have been heard the +stealthy sound of shoeless feet ascending the rickety step-ladder which +led to the large front garret. Shoeless feet going up and down many, +many times. Trays, too, of precious crockery were carried up, baskets +piled with evergreens and flowers were conveyed thither, the linen +cupboard was ruthlessly rifled for snowy tablecloths and table napkins +of all descriptions. Then later in the day a certain savory smell might +have been perceived by any very suspicious person just along this +special passage and up that dusty old ladder. For hot bread and hot +pastry and hot cakes were being conveyed to the attic, and the sober +twins themselves fetched the cream from the farm, and the ginger beer +from the grocer's. + +No one was about, however, to suspect, or to tell tales if they did +suspect. + +Helen came home about seven o'clock, rather tired, and very much +interested in her purchases, to find a cozy tea awaiting her, and Polly +anxious to serve her. The twin girls were supposed to be learning their +lessons in the school-room, Katie was nowhere to be seen, and Helen +remarked casually that she supposed the young ones had gone to bed. + +"Oh, yes," said Polly, in her quickest manner. + +She turned her back as she spoke, and the blush which mantled her brown +face was partly hidden by her curly dark hair. + +"I am very hungry," said Helen. "Really, Polly, you are turning out an +excellent housekeeper--what a nice tea you have prepared for me. How +delicious these hot cakes are! I never thought, Poll, you would make +such a good cook and manager, and to think of your giving us such +delicious meals on so little money. But you are eating nothing yourself, +love, and how hot your cheeks are!" + +"Cooking is hot work, and takes away the appetite," said Polly. + +She was listening in agony that moment, for over Helen's head certain +stealthy steps were creeping; they were the steps of children, leaving +their snug beds, and gliding as quietly as possible in the direction of +the savory smells and the dusty ladder and the large dirty, +spidery--but oh, how romantic, how fascinating--front attic. Never +before did Polly realize how many creaky boards there were in the house; +oh, surely Helen would observe those steps; but, no, she cracked her egg +tranquilly, and sipped her tea, and talked in her pleasantest way of +Polly's excellent cooking, and of her day's adventures. + +Time was going on; it would soon be eight o'clock. Oh, horrors, why +would the Rickettses and Mrs. Jones's three boys choose the path through +the shrubbery to approach the house! The morning room, where Helen was +taking her tea, looked out on the shrubbery, and although it was now +quite dark in the world of nature, those dreadful rough boys would crack +boughs, and stumble and titter as they walked. Polly's face grew hotter +and her hands colder; never did she bless her sister's rather slow and +unsuspicious nature more than at this moment, for Helen heard no boughs +crack, nor did the stealthy, smothered laughter, so distinctly audible +to poor Polly, reach her ears. + +At ten minutes to eight Helen rose from the table. + +"I'm going up to Nurse to show her what things I have bought for baby," +she said. "We are going to short-coat baby next week, so I have a good +deal to show her, and I won't be down again for a little bit." + +"All right," said Polly, "I have plenty to do; don't worry about me till +you see me, Nell." + +She danced out of the room, and in excellent spirits joined a large and +boisterous party in the front attic. Now, she assured her family and her +guests, all would go well; they were safely housed in a distant and +unused part of the establishment, and might be as merry and as noisy as +they pleased; no one would hear them, no one would miss them, no one +would suspect them. + +And all might have gone according to Polly's programme, and to this day +that glorious feast in the attic might have remained a secret in the +private annals of the house of Maybright, but for that untoward thing +which I am about to tell. + +At that very moment while the Maybrights, the Rickettses, and the +Joneses were having delightful and perfectly untrammeled intercourse +with each other, a very fidgety old lady was approaching the Hollow, +being carefully conducted thither in a rickety fly. A large traveling +trunk was on the box seat of the fly, and inside were two or three +bandboxes, a couple of baskets, a strap bursting with railway rugs, +cloaks, and umbrellas, and last, but not least, a snarling little toy +terrier, who barked and whined, and jumped about, and licked his +mistress's hand. + +"Down, Scorpion," exclaimed Mrs. Cameron; "behave yourself, sir. You +really become more vicious every day. Get in that corner, and don't stir +till I give you leave. Now, then, driver," opening the window and poking +her head out, "when are we getting to Sleepy Hollow? Oh! never, never +have I found myself in a more outlandish place." + +"We be a matter of two miles from there, ma'am," said the man. "You set +easy, and keep yourself quiet, for the beast won't go no faster." + +Mrs. Cameron subsided again into the depths of the musty old fly with a +groan. + +"Outlandish--most outlandish!" she remarked again. "Scorpion, you may +sit in my lap if you like to behave yourself, sir. Well, well, duty +calls me into many queer quarters. Scorpion, if you go on snarling and +growling I shall slap you smartly. Yes, poor Helen; I never showed my +love for her more than when I undertook this journey: never, never. Oh! +how desolate that great moor does look; I trust there are no robbers +about. It's perfectly awful to be in a solitary cab, with anything but a +civil driver, alone on these great moors. Well, well, how could Helen +marry a man like Dr. Maybright, and come to live here? He must be the +oddest person, to judge from the letter he wrote me. I saw at once there +was nothing for me but to make the stupendous effort of coming to see +after things myself. Poor dear Helen! she was a good creature, very +handsome, quite thrown away upon that doctor. I was fond of her; she was +like a child to me long ago. It is my duty to do what I can for her +orphans. Now, Scorpion, what is the matter? You are quite one of the +most vicious little dogs I have ever met. Oh, do be quiet, sir." + +But at that moment the fly drew up with a jolt. The driver deliberately +descended from his seat, and opened the door, whereupon Scorpion, with a +snarl and bound, disappeared into the darkness. + +"He's after a cat," remarked the man, laconically. "This be the Hollow, +ma'am, if you'll have the goodness to get out." + +"Sleepy Hollow," remarked Mrs. Cameron to herself, as she steadily +descended. "Truly I should think so; but I am much mistaken if I don't +wake it up." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +AUNT MARIA. + + +"Ef you please, Miss Helen," said Alice, the neat housemaid, putting in +her head at the nursery door, "there's a lady downstairs, and a heap of +luggage, and the nastiest little dog I ever saw. He has almost killed +the Persian kitten, Miss, and he is snarling and snapping at every one. +See, he took this bit out of my apron, miss. The old lady says as her +name is Mrs. Cameron, and she has come to stay; and she'd be glad if +you'd go down to her immediately, Miss Helen." + +"Aunt Maria!" said Helen, in an aghast voice. "Aunt Maria absolutely +come--and father away! Nursie, I must fly down--you will understand +about those flannels. Oh! I am sorry Aunt Maria has come. What will +Polly say?" + +Helen felt a curious sinking at her heart as she descended the stairs; +but she was a very polite and well-mannered girl, and when she went up +to Mrs. Cameron she said some pretty words of welcome, which were really +not overdone. Mrs. Cameron was a short, stout person; she always wore +black, and her black was always rusty. She stood now in the middle of +the drawing-room, holding Scorpion in her arms, with her bonnet-strings +untied, and her full, round face somewhat flushed. + +"No, my dear, you are not particularly glad to see me," she said, in +answer to Helen's gentle dignified greeting. "I don't expect it, child, +nor look for it; and you need not waste untruths upon me, for I always +see through them. You are not glad to see me, and I am not surprised, +for I assure you I intend to make myself disagreeable. Helen, your +father is a perfect fool. Now, my dear, you need not fire up; you would +say so if you were as old as me, and had received as idiotic an epistle +from him." + +"But I am not as old as you, and he is my father," said Helen, steadily. +"I don't tell untruths, Aunt Maria, and I am glad to see you +because--because you were fond of mother. Will you come into the +dining-room now, and let me get you some tea?" + +Helen's lips were quivering, and her dark blue eyes were slightly +lowered, so that Aunt Maria should not notice the tears that filled +them. The old lady, however, had noticed these signs of emotion, and +brave words always pleased her. + +"You aren't a patch on your mother, child," she said. "But you remind me +of her. Yes, take me to my room first, and then get me a good +substantial meal, for I can tell you I am starving." + +Helen rang the bell. + +"Alice," she said to the parlor maid, who speedily answered the summons, +"will you get the rose room ready as quickly as possible? My aunt, Mrs. +Cameron, will stay here for the night. And please lay supper in the +dining-room. Tell Mrs. Power--oh, I forgot--see and get as nice a +supper as you can, Alice. You had better speak to Miss Polly." + +"Yes, Miss," said Alice. Then she paused, hesitated, colored slightly, +and said, in a dubious manner, "Is it the rose room you mean, Miss +Helen? That's the room Miss Polly is getting ready for Miss Virginy, and +there ain't no curtains to the window nor to the bed at present." + +"Then I won't sleep in that bed," said Mrs. Cameron. "I must have a +four-poster with curtains all round, and plenty of dark drapery to the +windows. My eyes are weak, and I don't intend to have them injured with +the cold morning light off the moor." + +"Oh, Aunt Maria, the mornings aren't very light now," answered Helen. +"They are----" + +But Mrs. Cameron interrupted her. + +"Don't talk nonsense, child. In a decent place like Bath I own the day +may break gradually, but I expect everything contrary to civilized +existence here. The very thought of those awful commons makes me shiver. +Now, have you, or have you not, a four-poster, in which I can sleep?" + +Helen smothered a slight sigh. She turned once again to Alice. + +"Will you get my father's room ready for Mrs. Cameron," she said, "and +then see about supper as quickly as possible? Father is away for a few +days," she added, turning to the good lady. "Please will you come up to +Polly's and my room now to take off your things?" + +"And where is Polly?" said Mrs. Cameron. "And why doesn't she come to +speak to her aunt? There's Kate, too, she must be a well-grown girl by +now, and scarcely gone to bed yet. The rest of the family are, I +presume, asleep; that is, if there's a grain of sense left in the +household." + +"Yes, most of the children are in bed," replied Helen. "You will see +Polly and Katie, and perhaps the twins, later on, but first of all I +want to make you comfortable. You must be very tired; you have had a +long journey." + +"I'm beat out, child, and that's the truth. Here, I'll lay Scorpion down +in the middle of your bed; he has been a great worry to me all day, and +he wants his sleep. He likes to get between the sheets, so if you don't +mind I'll open the bed and let him slip down." + +"If you want me to be truthful, I do mind very much," said Helen. "Oh, +you are putting him into Polly's bed. Well, I suppose he must stay there +for the present." + +Mrs. Cameron was never considered an unamiable person; she was well +spoken of by her friends and relations, for she was rich, and gave away +a great deal of money to various charities and benevolent institutions. +But if ever any one expected her to depart in the smallest particular +from her own way they were vastly mistaken. Whatever her goal, whatever +her faintest desire, she rode roughshod over all prejudices until she +obtained it. Therefore it was that, notwithstanding poor Helen's +protest, Scorpion curled down comfortably between Polly's sheets, and +Mrs. Cameron, well pleased at having won her point, went down to supper. + +Alas, and alas! the supper provided for the good lady was severe in its +simplicity. Alice, blushing and uncomfortable, called Helen out of the +room, and then informed her that neither Polly nor Maggie could be +found, and that there was literally nothing, or next to nothing, in the +larder. + +"But that can't be the case," said Helen, "for there was a large piece +of cold roast beef brought up for my tea, and a great plate of hot +cakes, and an uncut plum cake. Surely, Alice, you must be mistaken." + +"No, Miss, there's nothing downstairs. Not a joint, nor a cake, nor +nothing. If it wasn't that I found some new-laid eggs in the hen-house, +and cut some slices from the uncooked ham, I couldn't have had nothing +at all for supper--and--and----" + +"Tut, tut!" suddenly exclaimed a voice in the dining-room. "What's all +this whispering about? It is very rude of little girls to whisper +outside doors, and not to attend to their aunts when they come a long +way to see them. If you don't come in at once, Miss Helen, and give me +my tea, I shall help myself." + +"Find Polly, then, as quick as you can, Alice," exclaimed poor, +perplexed Helen, "and tell her that Aunt Maria Cameron has come and is +going to stay." + +Alice went away, and Helen, returning to the dining-room, poured out +tea, and cut bread-and-butter, and saw her aunt demolishing with +appetite three new-laid eggs, and two generous slices of fried ham. + +"Your meal was plain; but I am satisfied with it," she said in +conclusion. "I am glad you live frugally, Helen; waste is always sinful, +and in your case peculiarly so. You don't mind my telling you, my dear, +that I think it is a sad extravagance wearing crape every day, but of +course you don't know any better. You are nothing in the world but an +overgrown child. Now that I have come, my dear, I shall put this and +many other matters to rights. Tell me, Helen, how long does your father +intend to be away?" + +"Until Monday, I think, Aunt Maria." + +"Very well; then you and I will begin our reforms to-morrow. I'll take +you round with me, and we'll look into everything. Your father won't +know the house when he comes back. I've got a treasure of a woman in my +eye for him--a Miss Grinsted. She is fifty, and a strict +disciplinarian. She will soon manage matters, and put this house into +something like order. I had a great mind to bring her with me; but I can +send for her. She can be here by Monday or Tuesday. I told her to be in +readiness, and to have her boxes packed. My dear, I wish you would not +poke out your chin so much. How old are you? Oh, sixteen--a very gawky +age. Now then, that I am refreshed and rested, I think that we'll just +go round the house." + +"Will you not wait until to-morrow, Aunt Maria? The children are all +asleep and in bed now, and Nurse never likes them to be disturbed." + +"My dear, Nurse's likes or dislikes are not of the smallest importance +to me. I wish to see the children asleep, so if you will have the +goodness to light a candle, Helen, and lead the way, I will follow." + +Helen, again stifling a sigh, obeyed. She felt full of trepidation and +uneasiness. Why did not Polly come in? Why had all the supper +disappeared? Where were Katie and the twins? How strangely silent the +house was. + +"I will see the baby first," said Mrs. Cameron. "In bed? Well, no +matter, I wish to look at the little dear. Ah, this is the nursery; a +nice, cheerful room, but too much light in it, and no curtains to the +windows. Very bad for the dear baby's eyes. How do you do, Nurse? I have +come to see baby. I am her aunt, her dear mother's sister, Maria +Cameron." + +Nurse curtseyed. + +"Baby is asleep, ma'am," she said. "I have just settled her in her +little crib for the night. She's a good, healthy child, and no trouble +to any one. Yes, ma'am, she has a look of her dear blessed ma. I'll just +hold down the sheet, and you'll see. Please, ma'am, don't hold the light +full in the babe's eyes, you'll wake her." + +"My good woman, I handled babies before you did. I had this child's +mother in my arms when she was a baby. Yes, the infant is well enough; +you're mistaken in there being any likeness to your late mistress in +her. She seems a plain child, but healthy. If you don't watch her sight, +she may get delicate eyes, however. I should recommend curtains being +put up immediately to these windows, and you're only using night-lights +when she sleeps. It is not _I_ that am likely to injure the baby with +too much light. Good evening, Nurse." + +Nurse muttered something, her brow growing black. + +"Now, Helen," continued Mrs. Cameron, "we will visit the other children. +This is the boys' room, I presume. I am fond of boys. What are your +brothers' names, my dear?" + +"We call them Bob and Bunny." + +"Utterly ridiculous! I ask for their baptismal names, not for anything +so silly. Ah! oh--I thought you said they were in bed: these beds are +empty." + +So they were; tossed about, no doubt, but with no occupants, and the +bedclothes no longer warm; so that it could not have been quite lately +that the truants had departed from their nightly places of rest. On +further investigation, Firefly's bed was also found in a sad state of +_deshabille_, and it was clearly proved, on visiting their apartments, +that the twins and Katie had not gone to bed at all. + +"Then, my dear, where are the family?" said Mrs. Cameron. "You and that +little babe are the only ones I have yet seen. Where is Mary? where is +Katharine? Where are your brothers? My dear Helen, this is awful; your +brothers and sisters are evidently playing midnight pranks. Oh, there is +not a doubt of it, you need not tell me. What a good thing it is that I +came! Oh! my poor dear sister; what a state her orphans have been +reduced to! There is nothing whatever for it but to telegraph for Miss +Grinsted in the morning." + +"But, my dear auntie, I am sure, oh! I am sure you are mistaken," began +poor Helen. "The children are always very well behaved--they are, +indeed they are. They don't play pranks, Aunt Maria." + +"Allow me to use my own eyesight, Helen. The beds are empty--not a +child is to be found. Come, we must search the house!" + +Helen never to her dying day forgot that eerie journey through the +deserted house, accompanied by Aunt Maria. She never forgot the +sickening fear which oppressed her, and the certainty which came over +her that Polly, poor, excitable Polly, was up to some mischief. + +Sleepy Hollow was a large and rambling old place, and it was some time +before the searchers reached the neighborhood of the festive garret. +When they did, however, there was no longer any room for doubt. Wild +laughter, and high-pitched voices singing many favorite nursery airs and +school-room songs made noise enough to reach the ears even of the +deafest. "John Peel" was having a frantic chorus as Helen and her aunt +ascended the step-ladder. + +"For the sound of his horn brought me from my bed, +And the cry of his hounds which he ofttimes led, +Peel's 'View Hulloo!' would awaken the dead, +Or the fox from his lair in the morning." + +"_Very_ nice, indeed," said Aunt Maria, as she burst open the garret +door. "Very nice and respectful to the memory of your dear mother! I am +glad, children, that I have come to create decent order in this +establishment. I am your aunt, Maria Cameron." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +PUNISHMENT. + + +There are occasions when people who are accused wrongfully of a fault +will take it patiently: there was scarcely ever known to be a time when +wrongdoers did so. + +The children in the garret were having a wild time of mirth and +excitement. There was no time for any one to think, no time for any one +to do aught but enjoy. The lateness of the hour, the stealthy gathering, +the excellent supper, and, finally, the gay songs, had roused the young +spirits to the highest pitch. Polly was the life of everything; Maggie, +her devoted satellite, had a face which almost blazed with excitement. + +Her small eyes twinkled like stars, her broad mouth never ceased to show +a double row of snowy teeth. She revolved round her brothers and +sisters, whispering in their ears, violently nudging them, and piling on +the agony in the shape of cups of richly creamed and sugared tea, of +thick slices of bread-and-butter and jam, and plum cake, topped with +bumpers of foaming ginger-beer. + +Repletion had reached such a pass in the case of the Ricketts brother +and sister that they could scarcely move; the Jones brothers were also +becoming slightly heavy-eyed; but the Maybright children fluttered about +here and there like gay butterflies, and were on the point of getting up +a dance when Aunt Maria and the frightened Helen burst upon the scene. + +It required a much less acute glance than Aunt Maria's to point out +Polly as the ringleader. She headed the group of mirth-seekers, every +lip resounded with her name, all the other pairs of young eyes turned to +her. When the garret door was flung open, and Aunt Maria in no measured +tones announced herself, the children flew like frightened chickens to +hide under Polly's wing. The Rickettses and Joneses scrambled to their +feet, and ran to find shelter as close as possible to headquarters. +Thus, when Polly at last found her voice, and turned round to speak to +Aunt Maria, she looked like the flushed and triumphant leader of a +little victorious garrison. She was quite carried away by the excitement +of the whole thing, and defiance spoke both in her eyes and manner. + +"How do you do, Aunt Maria?" she said. "We did not expect you. We were +having supper, and have just finished. I would ask you to have some with +us, only I am afraid there is not a clean plate left. Is there, Maggie?" + +Maggie answered with a high and nervous giggle, "Oh, lor', Miss Polly! +that there ain't; and there's nothing but broken victuals either on the +table by now. We was all hungry, you know, Miss Polly." + +"So perhaps," continued Polly, "you would go downstairs again, Aunt +Maria. Helen, will you take Aunt Maria to the drawing-room? I will come +as soon as I see the supper things put away. Helen, why do you look at +me like that? What's the matter?" + +"Oh, Polly!" said Helen, in her most reproachful tones. + +She was turning away, but Aunt Maria caught her rather roughly by the +shoulder. + +"Do _all_ this numerous party belong to the family?" she said. "I see +here present thirteen children. I never knew before that my sister had +such an enormous family." + +Helen felt in far too great a state of collapse to make any reply; but +Polly's saucy, glib tones were again heard. + +"These are our visitors, Aunt Maria. Allow me to introduce them. Master +and Miss Ricketts, Masters Tom, Jim, and Peter Jones. This is Maggie, my +satellite, and devoted friend, and--and----" + +But Aunt Maria's patience had reached its tether. She was a stout, +heavily made woman, and when she walked into the center of Polly's +garrison she quickly dispersed it. + +"March!" she said, laying her hand heavily on the girl's shoulder. "To +your room this instant. Come, I shall see you there, and lock you in. +You are a very bad, wicked, heartless girl, and I am bitterly ashamed of +you. To your room this minute. While your father is away you are under +my control, and I _insist_ on being obeyed." + +"Oh, lor'!" gasped Maggie. "Run," she whispered to her brother and +sister. "Make for the door, quick. Oh, ain't it awful! Oh, poor dear +Miss Polly! Why, that dreadful old lady will almost kill her." + +But no, Polly was still equal to the emergency. + +"You need not hold me, Aunt Maria," she said, in a quiet voice, "I can +go without that. Good night, children. I am sorry our jolly time has had +such an unpleasant ending. Now then, I'll go with you, Aunt Maria." + +"In front, then," said Aunt Maria. "No loitering behind. Straight to +your room." + +Polly walked down the dusty ladder obediently enough; Aunt Maria, +scarlet in the face, stumped and waddled after her; Helen, very pale, +and feeling half terrified, brought up the rear. All went well, and the +truant exhibited no signs of rebellion until they reached the wide +landing which led in one direction to the girl's bedroom, in the other +to the staircase. + +Here Polly turned at bay. + +"I'm not going to my room at present," she said. "If I've been naughty, +father can punish me when he comes home. You can tell anything you like +to father when he comes back on Monday. But I'm not going to obey you. +You have no authority over me, and I'm not responsible to you. Father +can punish me as much as he likes when you have told him. I'm going +downstairs, now; it's too early for bed. I've not an idea of obeying +you." + +"We will see to that," said Aunt Maria. "You are quite the naughtiest +child I ever came across. Now then, Miss, if you don't go patiently, and +on your own feet, you shall be conveyed to your room in my arms. I am +quite strong enough, so you can choose." + +Polly's eyes flashed. + +"If you put it in that way, I don't want to fuss," she said. "I'll go +there for the present, but you can't keep me there, and you needn't +try." + +Aunt Maria and Polly disappeared round the corner, and poor Helen stood +leaning against the oak balustrade, silently crying. In three or four +minutes Aunt Maria returned, her face still red, and the key of the +bedroom in her pocket. + +"Now, Helen, what is the matter? Crying? Well, no wonder. Of course, you +are ashamed of your sister. I never met such a naughty, impertinent +girl. Can it be possible that Helen should have such a child? She must +take entirely after her father. Now, Helen, stop crying, tears are most +irritating to me, and do no good to any one. I am glad I arrived at this +emergency. Matters have indeed come to a pretty crisis. In your father's +absence, I distinctly declare that I take the rule of my poor sister's +orphans, and I shall myself mete out the punishment for the glaring act +of rebellion that I have just witnessed. Polly remains in her room, and +has a bread and water diet until Monday. The other children have bread +and water for breakfast in the morning, and go to bed two hours before +their usual time to-morrow. The kitchen-maid I shall dismiss in the +morning, giving her a month's wages in lieu of notice. Now, Helen, come +downstairs. Oh, there is just one thing more. You must find some other +room to sleep in to-night. I forbid you to go near your sister. In fact, +I shall not give you the key. You may share my bed, if you like." + +"I cannot do that, Aunt Maria," said Helen. "I respect you, and will +obey you as far as I can until father returns, and tells us what we +really ought to do. But I cannot stay away from Polly to-night for any +one. I know she has been very naughty. I am as shocked as you can be +with all that has happened, but I know too, Aunt Maria, that harsh +treatment will ruin Polly; she won't stand it, she never would, and +mother never tried it with her. She is different from the rest of us, +Aunt Maria; she is wilder, and fiercer, and freer; but mother often +said, oh, often and often, that no one might be nobler than Polly, if +only she was guided right. I know she is troublesome, I know she was +impertinent to you, and I know well she did very wrong, but she is only +fourteen, and she has high spirits. You can't bend, nor drive Polly, +Aunt Maria, but gentleness and love can always lead her. I _must_ sleep +in my own bed to-night, Aunt Maria. Oh, don't refuse me--please give me +up the key." + +"You are a queer girl," said Aunt Maria. "But I believe you are the best +of them, and you certainly remind me of your mother when you speak in +that earnest fashion. Here, take the key, then, but be sure you lock the +door when you go in, and when you come out again in the morning. I trust +to you that that little wild, impertinent sister of yours doesn't +escape--now, remember." + +"While I am there she will not," answered Helen. "Thank you, auntie. You +look very tired yourself, won't you go to bed now?" + +"I will, child. I'm fairly beat out. Such a scene is enough to disturb +the strongest nerves. Only what about the other children? Are they still +carousing in that wicked way in the garret?" + +"No. I am sure they have gone to bed, thoroughly ashamed of themselves. +But I will go and see to them." + +"One thing more, child. Before I go to bed I should like to fill in a +telegraph form to Miss Grinsted. If she gets it the first thing in the +morning she can reach here to-morrow night. Well, Helen, again +objecting; you evidently mean to cross me in everything; now what is the +matter? Why has your face such a piteous look upon it?" + +"Only this, Aunt Maria. Until father returns I am quite willing to obey +you, and I will do my best to make the others good and obedient. But I +do think he would be vexed at your getting Miss Grinsted until you have +spoken to him. Won't you wait until Monday before you telegraph for +her?" + +"I'll sleep on it, anyhow," replied Mrs. Cameron. "Good night, child. +You remind me very much of your mother--not in appearance, but in the +curious way you come round a person, and insist upon having everything +done exactly as you like. Now, my dear, good night. I consider you all +the most demoralized household, but I won't be here long before matters +are on a very different footing." + +The bedroom door really closed upon Aunt Maria, and Helen drew a long +breath. + +Oh, for Monday to arrive! Oh, for any light to guide the perplexed child +in this crisis! But she had no time to think now. She flew to the +garret, to find only the wreck of the feast and one or two candles +flickering in their sockets. She put the candles out, and went next to +the children's bedrooms. Bob and Bunny, with flushed faces, were lying +once more in their cribs, fast asleep. They were dreaming and tossing +about, and Nurse stood over them with a perplexed and grave face. + +"This means nightmare, and physic in the morning," said the worthy +woman. "Now, don't you fret and worry your dear head, Miss Helen, pet. +Oh, yes, I know all about it, and it _was_ a naughty thing to do, only +children will be children. Your aunt needn't expect that her old crabbed +head and ways will fit on young shoulders. You might go to Miss Firefly, +though, for a minute, Miss Helen, for she's crying fit to break her +heart." + +Helen went off at once. Firefly was a very excitable and delicate child. +She found the little creature with her head buried under the clothes, +her whole form shaken with sobs. + +"Lucy, darling," said Helen. + +The seldom-used name aroused the weeping child; she raised her head, and +flung two thin arms so tightly round Helen's neck that she felt half +strangled. + +"Oh, it's so awful, Nell; what will she do to poor Polly! Oh, poor +Polly! Will she half kill her, Nell?" + +"No, Fly--how silly of you to take such an idea into your head. Fly, +dear, stop crying at once--you know you have all been naughty, and +Polly has hurt Aunt Maria, and hurt me, too. You none of you knew Aunt +Maria was coming, but I did not think you would play such a trick on me, +and when father was away, too." + +"It wasn't Polly's fault," said Firefly, eagerly. "She was tempted, and +we were the tempters. We all came round her, and we did coax, so hard, +and Polly gave way, 'cause she wanted to make us happy. She's a darling, +the dearest darling in all the world, and if Aunt Maria hurts her and +she dies, I--I----" + +The little face worked in a paroxysm of grief and agony. + +"Don't, Fly," said Helen. "You are much too tired and excited for me to +talk calmly to you to-night. You have been naughty, darling, and so has +Polly, and real naughtiness is always punished, always, somehow or +another. But you need not be afraid that any real harm will happen to +Polly. I am going to her in a moment or two, so you need not be in the +least anxious. Now fold your hands, Fly, and say 'Our Father.' Say it +slowly after me." + +Firefly's sobs had become much less. She now lay quiet, her little chest +still heaving, but with her eyes open, and fixed with a pathetic longing +on Helen's face. + +"You're nearly as good as mother," she said. "And I love you. But Polly +always, always must come first. Nell, I'll say 'Our Father,' only not +the part about forgiving, for I can't forgive Aunt Maria." + +"My dear child, you are talking in a very silly way. Aunt Maria has done +nothing but her duty, nothing to make you really angry with her. Now, +Fly, it is late, and Polly wants me. Say those dear words, for mother's +sake." + +There was no child at Sleepy Hollow who would not have done anything for +mother's sake, so the prayer was whispered with some fresh gasps of pain +and contrition, and before Helen left the room, little Lucy's pretty +dark eyes were closed, and her small, sallow, excitable face was +tranquil. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +DR. MAYBRIGHT _versus_ SCORPION. + + +Dr. Maybright returned to his home on Monday evening in tolerably good +spirits. He had gone up to London about a money matter which caused him +some anxiety; his fears were, for the present at least, quite lulled to +rest, and he had taken the opportunity of consulting one of the greatest +oculists of the day with regard to his eyesight. The verdict was more +hopeful than the good Doctor had dared to expect. With care, total +blindness might be altogether avoided; at the worst it would not come +for some time. A certain regimen was recommended, overwork was +forbidden, all great anxiety was to be avoided, and then, and +then--Well, at least the blessed light of day might be enjoyed by the +Doctor for years to come. + +"But you must not overwork," said the oculist, "and you must not worry. +You must read very little, and you must avoid chills; for should a cold +attack your eyes now the consequences would be serious." + +On the whole this verdict was favorable, and the Doctor returned to +Sleepy Hollow with a considerable weight lifted from his mind. As the +train bore him homeward through the mellow, ripened country with the +autumn colors glorifying the landscape, and a rich sunlight casting a +glow over everything, his heart felt peaceful. Even with the better part +of him gone away for ever, he could look forward with pleasure to the +greeting of his children, and find much consolation in the love of their +young hearts. + +"After all, there never were girls quite like Helen and Polly," he said +to himself. "They both in their own way take after their mother. Helen +has got that calm which was always so refreshing and restful in her +mother; and that little scapegrace of a Polly inherits a good deal of +her brilliancy. I wonder how the little puss has managed the +housekeeping. By the way, her week is up to-day, and we return to Nell's +and Mrs. Power's steadier regime. Poor Poll, it was shabby of me to +desert the family during the end of Indigestion week, but doubtless +matters have gone fairly well. Nurse has all her medicine bottles +replenished, so that in case of need she knew what to do. Poor Poll, she +really made an excellent cake for my supper the last evening I was at +home." + +The carriage rolled down the avenue, and the Doctor alighted on his own +doorsteps; as he did so he looked round with a pleased and expectant +smile on his face. It was six o'clock, and the evenings were drawing in +quickly; the children might be indoors, but it seemed scarcely probable. +The little Maybrights were not addicted to indoor life, and as a rule +their gay, shrill voices might have been heard echoing all over the old +place long after sunset. Not so this evening; the place was almost too +still; there was no rush of eager steps in the hall, and no clamor of +gay little voices without. + +Dr. Maybright felt a slight chill; he could not account for it. The +carriage turned and rolled away, and he quickly entered the house. + +"Polly, where are you? Nell, Firefly, Bunny," he shouted. + +Still there was no response, unless, indeed, the rustling of a silk +dress in the drawing-room, a somewhat subdued and half-nervous cough, +and the unpleasant yelping of a small dog could have been construed into +one. + +"Have my entire family emigrated? And is Sleepy Hollow let to +strangers?" murmured the Doctor. + +He turned in the direction of the rustle, the cough, and the bark, and +found himself suddenly in the voluminous embrace of his sister-in-law, +Mrs. Cameron. + +"My dear Andrew, I am pleased to see you. You have been in the deep +waters of affliction, and if in my power I would have come to you +sooner. I had rheumatism and a natural antipathy to solitude. Still I +made the effort, although a damper or more lonely spot would be hard to +find. I don't wonder at my poor sister's demise. I got your letter, +Andrew, and it was really in reply to it that I am here. Down, Scorpion; +the dog will be all right in a moment or two, my dear brother, he is +only smelling your trousers." + +"He has a very marked way of doing so," responded the Doctor, "as I +distinctly feel his teeth. Allow me, Maria, to put this little animal +outside the window--a dog's bite given even in play is not the most +desirable acquisition. Well, Maria, your visit astonishes me very much. +Welcome to Sleepy Hollow. Did you arrive to-day? How did you find the +children?" + +"I came here on Friday evening, Andrew. The children are as well as such +poor neglected lambs could be expected to be." + +Dr. Maybright raised his eyebrows very slightly. + +"I was not aware they were neglected," he said. "I am sorry they strike +you so. I also have a little natural antipathy to hearing children +compared to sheep. But where are they? I have been away for four days, +and am in the house five minutes, and not the voice of a child do I +hear? Where is Helen--where is my pretty Poll? Don't they know that +their father has arrived?" + +"I cannot tell you, Andrew. I have been alone myself for the last two or +three hours, but I ordered your tea to be got ready. May I give you +some? Shall we come to the dining room at once? Your family were quite +well three hours ago, so perhaps you and I may have a quiet meal +together before we trouble about them any further. I think I may claim +this little indulgence, as only properly respectful to your wife's +sister, Andrew." + +"Yes, Maria, I will have tea with you," said the Doctor. The pleased, +bright look of anticipation had altogether now left his face; it was +careworn, the brow slightly puckered, and many lines of care and age +showed round the lips. + +"I will just go upstairs and wash my hands," said Dr. Maybright. "Then I +will join you in the dining-room." + +He ran up the low stairs to his own room; it was not only full of Aunt +Maria's possessions, but was guarded by the faithful Scorpion, who had +flown there in disgust, and now again attacked the Doctor's legs. + +"There is a limit," he murmured, "and I reach it when I am bitten by +this toy terrier." + +He lifted Scorpion by his neck, and administered one or two short slaps, +which sent the pampered little animal yelping under the bed; then he +proceeded down the passage in search of some other room where he might +take shelter. + +Alice met him; her eyes glowed, and the color in her face deepened. + +"We are all so glad you are back, sir," she said, with an affectionate +tone in her voice. "And Miss Helen has got the room over the porch +ready, if you'd do with it for a night or two, sir. I've took hot water +there, sir, for I saw the carriage coming up the drive." + +"Thank you, Alice; the porch room will do nicely. By the way, can you +tell me where all the children are?" + +But Alice had disappeared, almost flown down the passage, and the Doctor +had an uncomfortable half suspicion that he heard her sob as she went. + +Dr. Maybright, however, was not a fanciful person--the children, with +the exception of baby, were all probably out. It was certainly rather +contrary to their usual custom to be away when his return was expected, +still, he argued, consistency in children was the last thing to be +expected. He went downstairs, therefore, with an excellent appetite for +whatever meal Mrs. Cameron might have provided for him, and once more in +tolerably good spirits. + +There are some people who habitually, and from a strong sense of duty, +live on the shady side of life. Metaphorically speaking, the sunshine +may almost touch the very path on which they are treading, but they +shrink from and avoid it, having a strong preference for the shade, but +considering themselves martyrs while they live in it. Mrs. Cameron was +one of these people. The circumstances of her life had elected plenty of +sunshine for her; she had a devoted and excellent husband, an abundant +income, and admirable health. It is true she had no children, and it is +also true that she had brought herself by careful cultivation to a state +of chronic ill-temper. Every one now accepted the fact that Mrs. Cameron +neither wished to be happy, nor was happy; and when the Doctor sat down +to tea, and found himself facing her, it was with very somber and +disapproving eyes that she regarded him. + +"Well, Andrew, I must say you look remarkably well. Dear, dear, there is +no constancy in this world, that is, amongst the male sex." + +Here she handed him a cup of tea, and sighed lugubriously. The Doctor +accepted the tea with a slight frown; he was a peaceable man, but as he +said, when chastising Scorpion, "there are limits." + +"If you have no objection, Maria," he said, curtly, "we will leave the +subject of my personal appearance and the moral question which you have +brought forward out of our conversation." + +Then his voice and manner changed; he put on a company smile, and +continued, without any pause, "How is your husband? Is he as great an +antiquary as ever? And do you both continue to like living in Bath?" + +Mrs. Cameron was a strong and determined woman, but she was no match for +the Doctor when he chose to have his own way. For the remainder of the +meal conversation was languid, and decidedly commonplace; once only it +brightened into animation. + +"I wonder where Scorpion can be?" said the good lady; "I want to give +him his cream." + +"I fear he is under punishment," said the Doctor. "If I judge of him +aright, Scorpion is something of a coward, and is not likely to come +into the same room where I am for some time." + +"What do you mean? Surely you have not been cruel to him?" + +"Cruel to be kind. Once again he attempted to eat my legs, and I was +obliged to administer one or two sharp slaps--nothing to hurt; you will +find him under your bed. And now I really must go to look for my +family." + +Dr. Maybright left the room, and Mrs. Cameron sat still, scarlet with +annoyance and indignation. + +"How could Helen have married such a man?" she said to herself. "I never +can get on with him--never. How cowardly it was of him to hurt the +little dog. If it was not for the memory of poor dear Helen I should +leave here by the first train in the morning; but as it is, I will not +stir until I have established Miss Grinsted over this poor, misguided +household. Ah, well! duty is ever hard, but those who know Maria Cameron +are well acquainted with the fact that she never shirked it. Yes, I will +stay; it will be very unpleasant, but I must go through it. What very +abrupt manners the Doctor has! I was just preparing to tell him all +about that wicked Polly when he jumped up and left the room. Now, of +course, he will get a wrong impression of the whole thing, for the other +children all take her part. Very bad manners to jump up from the tea +table like that. And where _is_ Helen?--where are they all? Now that I +come to think of it, I have seen nothing of any one of them since the +early dinner. Well, well, if it were not for poor Helen I should wash my +hands of the whole concern. But whoever suffers, dear little Scorpion +must have his cream." + +Accordingly Mrs. Cameron slowly ascended the stairs, armed with a saucer +and a little jug, and Scorpion forgot the indignities to which he had +been subjected as he lapped up his dainty meal. + +Meanwhile, the Doctor having explored the morning room and the +schoolrooms, having peeped into the conservatory, and even peered with +his rather failing sight into the darkness outside, took two or three +strides upstairs, and found himself in the presence of Nurse and baby. + +"Well, Pearl," he said, taking the little pure white baby into his arms, +looking into its wee face earnestly, and then giving it a kiss, which +was sad, and yet partook of something of the nature of a blessing. + +"Baby goes on well, Nurse," he said, returning the little creature to +the kind woman's arms. Then he looked into her face, and his own +expression changed. + +"What is the matter?" he said, abruptly. "You have been crying. Is +anything wrong? Where have all the children vanished to?" + +"You have had your tea, sir?" said Nurse, her words coming out in jerks, +and accompanied by fresh sobs. "You have had your tea, and is partial +rested, I hope, so it's but right you should know. The entire family, +sir, every blessed one of them, with the exception of the babe, has took +upon themselves to run away." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN? + + +Nurse's news astonished the Doctor very much. He was not a man, however, +to show all he felt. He saw that Nurse was on the verge of hysterics, +and he knew that if he did not take this startling and unpleasant piece +of information in the most matter-of-fact way, he would get nothing out +of her. + +"I hope matters are not as bad as you fear," he said. "Sit down in this +chair, and tell me what has occurred. Don't hurry yourself; a few +moments more or less don't signify. Tell your tale quietly, in your own +way." + +Thus administered, Nurse gasped once or twice, looked up at the Doctor +with eyes which plainly declared "there never was your equal for +blessedness and goodness under the sun," and commenced her story in the +long-winded manner of her class. + +The Doctor heard a garbled account of the supper in the attic, of the +arrival of Mrs. Cameron, of the prompt measures which that good lady +took to crush Polly, of Firefly's grief, of the state of confusion into +which the old house was thrown. She then went on to tell him further +that Polly, having refused to submit or repent in any way, Mrs. Cameron +had insisted on her remaining in her own room, and had at last, +notwithstanding all Helen's entreaties, forbidden her to go near her +sister. The housekeeping keys were taken away from Polly, and Mrs. +Cameron had further taken upon herself to dismiss Maggie. She had sent a +telegram to Mrs. Power, who had returned in triumph to Sleepy Hollow on +Saturday night. + +"Miserable is no word for what this household has been," said Nurse. +"There was Miss Polly--naughty she may have been, dear lamb, but +vicious she ain't--there was Miss Polly shut up in her room, and nobody +allowed to go near her; and Mrs. Cameron poking her nose into this +corner and into that, and ordering _me_ about what I was to do with the +babe; and poor Miss Helen following her about, for all the world like a +ghost herself, so still and quiet and pitiful looking, but like a dear +angel in her efforts to keep the peace; and there was Alice giving +warning, and fit to fly out of the house with rage, and Mrs. Power +coming back, and lording it over us all, more than is proper for a cook +to do. Oh, sir, we has been unhappy! and for the first time we really +knew what we had lost in our blessed mistress, and for the first time +the children, poor darlings, found out what it was to be really +motherless. The meals she'd give 'em, and the way she'd order them--oh, +dear! oh, dear! it makes me shiver to think of it!" + +"Yes, Nurse," interrupted the Doctor. "It was unfortunate Mrs. Cameron +arriving when I was absent. I have come back now, however, and all the +troubles you have just mentioned are, of course, at an end. Still you +have not explained the extraordinary statement you made to me when I +came into the room. Why is it that the children have run away?" + +"I'm a-coming to that, sir; that's, so to speak, the crisis--and all +brought about by Mrs. Cameron. I said that Miss Polly was kept in her +room, and after the first day no one allowed to go near her. Mrs. +Cameron herself would take her up her meals, and take the tray away +again, and very little the poor dear would eat, for I often saw what +come out. It would go to your heart, sir, that it would, for a healthier +appetite than Miss Polly's there ain't in the family. Well, sir, Miss +Helen had a letter from you this morning, saying as how you'd be back by +six o'clock, and after dinner she went up to Miss Polly's door, and I +heard her, for I was walking with baby up and down the passage. It was +beautiful to hear the loving way Miss Helen spoke, Doctor; she was +kneeling down and singing her words through the key-hole. 'Father'll be +home to-night, Polly,' she said--'keep up heart, Poll dear--father'll +be home to-night, and he'll make everything happy again.' Nothing could +have been more tender than Miss Helen's voice, it would have moved +anybody. But there was never a sound nor an answer from inside the room, +and just then Miss Firefly and Master Bunny came rushing up the stairs +as if they were half mad. 'O Nell, come, come quick!' they said, +'there's the step-ladder outside Poll's window, and a bit of rope and +two towels fastened together hanging to the sill, and the window is wide +open!' Miss Helen ran downstairs with a face like a sheet, and by and by +Alice came up and told me the rest. Master Bunny got up on the +step-ladder, and by means of the rope and the bedroom towels managed to +climb on to the window sill, and then he saw there wasn't ever a Miss +Polly at all in the room. Oh, poor dear! he might have broke his own +neck searching for her, but--well, there's a Providence over children, +and no mistake. Miss Polly had run away, that was plain. When Miss Helen +heard it, and knew that it was true, she turned to Alice with her face +like a bit of chalk, and tears in her eyes, and, 'Alice,' she said, 'I'm +going to look for Polly. You can tell Nurse I'll be back when I have +found Polly.' With that she walked down the path as fast as she could, +and every one of the others followed her. Alice watched them getting +over the little turnstile, and down by the broad meadow, then she came +up and let me know. I blamed her for not coming sooner, but--what's the +matter, Doctor?" + +"I am going to find Polly and the others," said Dr. Maybright. "It's a +pity no older person in the house followed them; but so many can +scarcely come to harm. It is Polly I am anxious about--they cannot have +discovered her, or they would be home before now." + +The Doctor left the nursery, ran downstairs, put on his hat, and went +out. As he did so, he heard the dubious, questioning kind of cough which +Mrs. Cameron was so fond of making--this cough was accompanied by +Scorpion's angry snarling little bark. The Doctor prayed inwardly for +patience as he hurried down the avenue in search of his family. He was +absolutely at a loss where to seek them. + +"The broad meadow only leads to the high-road," he said to himself, "and +the high-road has many twists and turns. Surely the children cannot have +ventured on the moor; surely Polly cannot have been mad enough to try to +hide herself there." + +It was a starlight night, and the Doctor walked quickly. + +"I don't know where they are. I must simply let instinct guide me," he +said to himself; and after walking for three quarters of an hour +instinct did direct him to where, seated on a little patch of green turf +at one side of the king's highway, were three solitary and +disreputable-looking little figures. + +"Father!" came convulsively from three little parched throats; there was +a volume in the cry, a tone of rapture, of longing, of pain, which was +almost indescribable. "Father's come back again, it's all right now," +sobbed Firefly, and immediately the boys and the little girl had cuddled +up to him and were kissing him, each boy taking possession of a hand, +and Firefly clasping her arms round his neck. + +"I know all about it, children," explained the Doctor. "But tell me +quickly, where are the others? where is Polly?" + +"Oh, you darling father!" said Firefly, "you darling, you darling! let +me kiss you once again. There, now I'm happy!" + +"But tell me where the others are, dear child." + +"Just a little way off. We did get so tired, and Helen said that Polly +must have gone on the moor, and she said she must and would follow her." + +"We were so tired," said Bunny. + +"And there was a great nail running into my heel," explained Bob. + +"So we sat down here, and tried to pretend we were gipsies," continued +Firefly. "The moon was shining, and that was a little wee bit of +comfort, but we didn't like it much. Father, it isn't much fun being a +gipsy, is it?" + +"No, dear; but go on. How long is it since you parted from the others?" + +"Half an hour; but it's all right. Bunny, you can tell that part." + +Bunny puffed himself out, and tried to speak in his most important +manner. + +"Nell gave me the dog-whistle," he said, "and I was to whistle it if it +was real necessary, not by no means else. I didn't fancy that I was a +gipsy. I thought perhaps I was the driver of a fly, and that when I blew +my whistle Nell would be like another driver coming to me. That's what I +thought," concluded Bunny. But as his metaphors were always extremely +mixed and confusing, no one listened to him. + +"You have a whistle?" said the Doctor. "Give it to me. This is a very +dangerous thing that you have done, children. Now, let me see how far I +can make the sound go. Oh, that thing! I can make a better whistle than +that with my hand." + +He did so, making the moor, on the borders of which they stood, resound +with a long, shrill, powerful blast. Presently faint sounds came back in +answer, and in about a quarter of an hour Helen and her three sisters, +very tired and faint, and loitering in their steps, came slowly into +view. + +Oh, yes; they were all so glad to see father, but they had not seen +Polly; no, not a trace nor sound could be discovered to lead to Polly's +whereabouts. + +"But she must not spend the night alone on the moor," said the Doctor. +"No, that cannot be. Children, you must all go home directly. On your +way past the lodge, Helen, desire Simpkins and George to come with +lanterns to this place. They are to wait for me here, and when they +whistle I will answer them. After they have waited here for half an +hour, and I do not whistle back, they are to begin to search the moor on +their own account. Now go home as fast as you can, my dears. I will +return when I have found Polly, not before." + +The moon was very brilliant that night, and Helen's wistful face, as she +looked full at her father, caused him to bend suddenly and kiss her. +"You are my brave child, Nell. Be the bravest of all by taking the +others home now. Home, children; and to bed at once, remember. No +visiting of the drawing-room for any of you to-night." + +The Doctor smiled, and kissed his hand, and a very disconsolate little +party turned in the direction of Sleepy Hollow. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE WIFE OF MICAH JONES. + + +If ever there was a girl whose mind was in a confused and complex state, +that girl was Polly Maybright. Suddenly into her life of sunshine and +ease and petting, into her days of love and indulgence, came the cold +shadow of would-be justice. Polly had done wrong, and a very stern +judge, in the shape of Aunt Maria Cameron, was punishing her. + +Polly had often been naughty in her life; she was an independent, +quick-tempered child; she had determination, and heaps of courage, but +she was always supposed to want ballast. It was the fashion in the house +to be a little more lenient to Polly's misdemeanors than to any one +else's. When a very little child, Nurse had excused ungovernable fits of +rage with the injudicious words, "Poor lamb, she can't help herself!" +The sisters, older or younger, yielded to Polly, partly because of a +certain fascination which she exercised over them, for she was extremely +brilliant and quick of idea, and partly because they did not want her to +get into what they called her tantrums. Father, too, made a pet of her, +and perhaps slightly spoiled her, but during mother's lifetime all this +did not greatly matter, for mother guided the imperious, impetuous, +self-willed child, with the exquisite tact of love. During mother's +lifetime, when Polly was naughty, she quickly became good again; now +matters were very different. + +Mrs. Cameron was a woman who, with excellent qualities, and she had +many, had not a scrap of the "mother-feel" within her. There are women +who never called a child their own who are full of it, but Mrs. Cameron +was not one of these. Her rule with regard to the management of young +people was simple and severe--she saw no difference between one child +and another. "Spare the rod and spoil the child," applied equally in +every case, so now, constituting herself Polly's rightful guardian in +the absence of her father, she made up her mind on no account to spare +the rod. Until Polly humbled herself to the very dust she should go +unforgiven. Solitary confinement was a most safe and admirable method of +correction. Therefore unrepentant Polly remained in her room. + +The effects, as far as the culprit was concerned, were not encouraging. +In the first place she would not acknowledge Mrs. Cameron's right to +interfere in her life; in the next harshness had a very hardening effect +on her. + +It was dull in Polly's room. The naughtiest child cannot cry all the +time, nor sulk when left quite to herself, and although, whenever Mrs. +Cameron appeared on the scene, the sulks and temper both returned in +full force, Polly spent many long and miserable hours perfectly +distracted with the longing to find something to do. The only books in +the room were Helen's little Bible, a copy of "Robinson Crusoe," and the +Dictionary. For obvious reasons Polly did not care to read the Bible at +present. "Robinson Crusoe" she knew already by heart, but found it +slightly amusing trying to make something of the sentences read +backwards. The Dictionary was her final resource, and she managed to +pass many tedious hours working straight through it page after page. She +had got as far as M, and life was becoming insupportable, when about the +middle of the day, on Monday, she was startled by a cautious and +stealthy noise, and also by a shadow falling directly on her page. She +looked up quickly; there was the round and radiant face of Maggie glued +to the outside of the window, while her voice came in, cautious but +piercing, "Open the window quick, Miss Polly, I'm a-falling down." + +Polly flew to the rescue, and in a moment Maggie was standing in the +room. In her delight at seeing a more genial face than Aunt Maria's, +Polly flung her arms round Maggie and kissed her. + +"How good of you to come!" she exclaimed. "And you must not go away +again. Where will you hide when Aunt Maria comes to visit me? Under the +bed, or in this cupboard?" + +"Not in neither place," responded Maggie, who was still gasping and +breathless, and whose brown winsey frock showed a disastrous tear from +hem to waist. + +"Not in neither place," she proceeded, "for I couldn't a-bear it any +longer, and you ain't going to stay in this room no longer, Miss Polly; +I nearly brained myself a-clinging on to the honeysuckle, and the +ivy-roots, but here I be, and now we'll both go down the ladder and run +away." + +"Run away--oh!" said Polly, clasping her hands, and a great flood of +rose-color lighting up her face. + +She ran to the window. The housemaid's step-ladder stood below, but +Polly's window was two or three feet above. + +"We'll manage with a bit of rope and the bedroom towels," said Maggie, +eagerly. "It's nothing at all, getting down--it's what I did was the +danger. Now, be quick, Miss Polly; let's get away while they're at +dinner." + +It did not take an instant for Polly to decide. Between the delights of +roaming the country with Maggie, and the pleasure of continuing to read +through the M's in Webster's Dictionary, there could be little choice. +On the side of liberty and freedom alone could the balance fall. The +bedroom towels were quickly tied on to the old rope, the rope secured +firmly inside the window-sill, and the two girls let themselves swing +lightly on to the step-ladder. They were both agile, and the descent did +not terrify them in the least. When they reached the ground they took +each other's hands, and looked into each other's faces. + +"You might have thought of bringing a hat, Miss Polly." + +"Oh, never mind, Maggie. You do look shabby; your frock is torn right +open." + +"Well, Miss, I got it a-coming to save you. Miss Polly, Mrs. Power's +back in the kitchen. Hadn't we better run? We'll talk afterwards." + +So they did, not meeting any one, for Mrs. Cameron and the children were +all at dinner, and the servants were also in the house. They ran through +the kitchen garden, vaulted over the sunken fence, and found themselves +in the little sheltered green lane, where Polly had lain on her face and +hands and caught the thrushes on the July day when her mother died. She +stood almost in the same spot now, but her mind was in too great a +whirl, and her feelings too excited, to cast back any glances of memory +just then. + +"Well, Maggie," she said, pulling up short, "now, what are your plans? +Where are we going to? Where are we to hide?" + +"Eh?" said Maggie. + +She had evidently come to the end of her resources, and the intelligent +light suddenly left her face. + +"I didn't think o' that," she said: "there's mother's." + +"No, that wouldn't do," interrupted Polly. "Your mother has only two +rooms. I couldn't hide long in her house; and besides, she is poor, I +would not put myself on her for anything. I'll tell you what, Maggie, +we'll go across Peg-Top Moor, and make straight for the old hut by the +belt of fir-trees. You know it, we had a picnic there once, and I made +up a story of hermits living in the hut. Well, you and I will be the +hermits." + +"But what are we to eat?" said Maggie, whose ideas were all practical, +and her appetite capacious. + +Polly's bright eyes, however, were dancing, and her whole face was +radiant. The delight of being a real hermit, and living in a real hut, +far surpassed any desire for food. + +"We'll eat berries from the trees," she said, "and we'll drink water +from the spring. I know there's a spring of delicious water not far from +the hut. Oh! come along, Maggie, do; this is delightful!" + +An old pony, who went in the family by the stately name of Sultan, had +been wont to help the children in their long rambles over the moor. They +were never allowed to wander far alone, and had not made one expedition +since their mother's death. It was really two years since Polly had been +to the hut at the far end of Peg-Top Moor. This moor was particularly +lonely, it was interspersed at intervals with thickets of rank +undergrowth and belts of trees, and was much frequented on that account +by gipsies and other lawless people. Polly, who went last over the moor, +carried the greater part of the way on Sultan's friendly back, had very +little idea how far the distance was. It was September now, but the sun +shone on the heather and fern with great power, and as Polly had no hat +on her head, having refused to take Maggie's from her; she was glad to +take shelter under friendly trees whenever they came across her path. + +At first the little girls walked very quickly, for they were afraid of +being overtaken and brought back; but after a time their steps grew +slow, their movement decidedly languid, and Maggie at least began to +feel that berries from the trees and water from the spring, particularly +when neither was to be found anywhere, was by no means a substantial or +agreeable diet to dwell upon. + +"I don't think I like being a hermit," she began. "I don't know nought +what it means, but I fancy it must be very thinning and running down to +the constitootion." + +Polly looked at her, and burst out laughing. + +"It is," she said, "that's what the life was meant for, to subdue the +flesh in all possible ways; you'll get as thin as a whipping-post, Mag." + +"I don't like it," retorted Maggie. "Maybe we'd best be returning home, +now, Miss Polly." + +Polly's eyes flashed. She caught Maggie by the shoulder. + +"You are a mean girl," she said. "You got me into this scrape, and now +you mean to desert me. I was sitting quietly in my room, reading through +the M's in Webster's Dictionary, and you came and asked me to run away; +it was your doing, Maggie, you know that." + +"Yes, miss! yes, Miss!" + +Maggie began to sob. "But I never, never thought it meant berries and +spring-water; no, that I didn't. Oh, I be so hungry!" + +At this moment all angry recriminations were frozen on the lips of both +little girls, for rising suddenly, almost as it seemed from the ground +at their feet, appeared a gaunt woman of gigantic make. + +"Maybe you'll be hungrier," she said in a menacing voice. "What +business have you to go through Deadman's Copse without leave?" + +Maggie was much too alarmed to make any reply, but Polly, after a moment +or two of startled silence, came boldly to the rescue. + +"Who are you?" she said. "Maggie and I know nothing of Deadman's Copse; +this is a wood, and we are going through it; we have got business on the +other side of Peg-Top-Moor." + +"That's as it may be," replied the woman, "this wood belongs to me and +to my sons, Nathaniel and Patrick, and to our dogs, Cinder and Flinder, +and those what goes through Deadman's Copse must pay toll to me, the +wife of Micah Jones. My husband is dead, and he left the wood to me, and +them as go through it must pay toll." + +The woman's voice was very menacing; she was of enormous size, and going +up to the little girls, attempted to place one of her brawny arms on +Polly's shoulder. But Polly with all her faults possessed a great deal +of courage; her eyes flashed, and she sprang aside from the woman's +touch. + +"You are talking nonsense," she said. "Father has over and over told me +that the moor belongs to the Queen, so this little bit couldn't have +been given to your husband, Micah Jones, and we are just as free to walk +here as you are. Come on, Maggie, we'll be late for our business if we +idle any longer." + +But the woman with a loud and angry word detained her. + +"Highty-tighty!" she said. "Here's spirit for you, and who may your +respected papa be, my dear? He seems to be mighty wise. And the wife of +Micah Jones would much like to know his name." + +"You're a very rude unpleasant woman," said Polly. "Don't hold me, I +won't be touched by you. My father is Dr. Maybright, of Sleepy Hollow, +you must know his name quite well." + +The wife of Micah Jones dropped a supercilious curtsey. + +"Will you tell Dr. Maybright, my pretty little dear," she said, "that in +these parts might is right, and that when the Queen wants Deadman's +Copse, she can come and have a talk with me, and my two sons, and the +dogs, Cinder and Flinder. But, there, what am I idling for with a chit +like you? You and that other girl there have got to pay toll. You have +both of you got to give me your clothes. There's no way out of it, so +you needn't think to try words, nor blarney, nor nothing else with me, I +have a sack dress each for you, and what you have on is mine. That's the +toll, you will have to pay it. My hut is just beyond at the other side +of the wood, my sons are away, but Cinder and Flinder will take care of +you until I come back, at nine o'clock. Here, follow me, we're close to +the hut. No words, or it will be the worse for you. On in front, the two +of you, or you, little Miss," shaking her hand angrily at Polly, "will +know what it means to bandy words with the wife of Micah Jones." + +The woman's face became now very fierce and terrible, and even Polly was +sufficiently impressed to walk quietly before her, clutching hold of +poor terrified Maggie's hand. + +The hut to which the woman took the little girls was the very hermit's +hut to which their own steps had been bent. It was a very dirty place, +consisting of one room, which was now filled with smoke from a fire made +of broken faggots, fir-cones, and withered fern. Two ugly, lean-looking +dogs guarded the entrance to the hut. When they saw the woman coming, +they jumped up and began to bark savagely; poor Maggie began to scream, +and Polly for the first time discovered that there could be a worse +state of things than solitary confinement in her room, with Webster's +Dictionary for company. + +"Sit you there," said the woman, pushing the little girls into the hut. +"I'll be back at nine o'clock. I'm off now on some business of my own. +When I come back I'll take your clothes, and give you a sack each to +wear. Cinder and Flinder will take care of you; they're very savage +dogs, and can bite awful, but they won't touch you if you sit very +quiet, and don't attempt to run away." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +DISTRESSED HEROINES. + + +If ever poor little girls found themselves in a sad plight it was the +two who now huddled close together in the hermit's hut. Even Polly was +thoroughly frightened, and as to Maggie, nothing but the angry growls of +Cinder restrained the violence of her sobs. + +"Oh, ain't a hermit's life awful!" she whispered more than once to her +companion. "Oh! Miss Polly, why did you speak of Peg-Top Moor, and the +hermit's hut, and berries and water?" + +"Don't be silly, Maggie," said Polly, "I did not mention the wife of +Micah Jones, nor these dreadful dogs. This is a misfortune, and we must +bear it as best we can. Have you none of the spirit of a heroine in you, +Maggie; don't you know that in all the story-books, when the heroines +run away, they come to dreadful grief? If we look at it in that light, +and think of ourselves as distressed heroines, it will help us to bear +up. Indeed," continued Polly, "if it wasn't for my having been naughty a +few days ago, and perhaps father coming back to-night, I think I'd enjoy +this--I would really. As it is----" Here the brave little voice broke +off into a decided quaver. The night was falling, the stars were coming +out in the sky, and Polly, standing in the door of the hut, with her arm +thrown protectingly round Maggie's neck, found a great rush of +loneliness come over her. + +During those weary days spent in her bedroom, repentance, even in the +most transient guise, had scarcely come near her. She was too much +oppressed with a sense of injustice done to herself to be sorry about +the feast in the attic. In short, all her time was spent in blaming Aunt +Maria. + +Now with the lonely feeling came a great soreness of heart, and an +intense and painful longing for her mother. Those fits of longing which +came to Polly now and then heralded in, as a rule, a tempest of grief. +Wherever she was she would fling herself on the ground, and give way to +most passionate weeping. Her eyes swam in tears now, she trembled +slightly, but controlled herself. On Maggie's account it would never do +for her to give way. The ugly dogs came up and sniffed at her hands, and +smelt her dress. Maggie screamed when they approached her, but Polly +patted their heads. She was not really afraid of them, neither was she +greatly alarmed at the thought of the wife of Micah Jones. What +oppressed her, and brought that feeling of tightness to her throat, and +that smarting weight of tears to her eyes, were the great multitude of +stars in the dark-blue heavens, and the infinite and grand solitude of +the moors which lay around. + +The night grew darker; poor Maggie, worn out, crouched down on the +ground; Polly, who had now quite made friends with Cinder, sat by +Maggie's side, and when the poor hungry little girl fell asleep, Polly +let her rest her head in her lap. The dogs and the two children were all +collected in the doorway of the hut, and now Polly could look more +calmly up at the stars, and the tears rolled silently down her cheeks. + +It was in this position that, at about a quarter to nine, Dr. Maybright +found her. Some instinct seemed to lead him to Peg-Top Moor--a sudden +recollection brought the hut to his memory, a ringing voice, and gay +laugh came back to him. The laugh was Polly's, the words were hers. "Oh, +if there could be a delightful thing, it would be to live as a hermit in +the hut at the other side of Peg-Top Moor!" + +"The child is there," he said to himself. And when this thought came to +him he felt so sure that it was a true and guiding thought that he +whistled for the men who were to help him in the search, and together +they went to the hut. + +Cinder and Flinder had got accustomed to Polly, whom they rather liked; +Maggie they barely tolerated; but the firm steps of three strangers +approaching the hut caused them to bristle up, to call all their canine +ferocity to their aid, and to bark furiously. + +But all their show of enmity mattered nothing in such a supreme moment +as this to Polly. No dogs, however fierce, should keep her from the arms +of her father. In an instant she was there, cuddling up close to him, +while the men he had brought with him took care of Maggie, and beat off +the angry dogs. + +"Father, there never was any one as naughty as I have been!" + +"My darling, you have found that out?" + +"Yes, yes, yes! and you may punish me just whatever way you like best, +only let me kiss you now. Punish me, but don't be angry." + +"I'm going to take you home," said Doctor, who feared mischief from +Polly's present state of strong excitement. "I expect you have gone +through a fright and have had some punishment. The minute, too, we find +out that we are really naughty, our punishment begins, as well as our +forgiveness. I shall very likely punish you, child, but be satisfied, I +forgive you freely. Now home, and to bed, and no talk of anything +to-night, except a good supper, and a long restful sleep. Come, Polly, +what's the matter? Do you object to be carried?" + +"But not in your arms, father. I am so big and heavy, it will half kill +you." + +"You are tall, but not heavy, you are as light as a reed. Listen! I +forbid you to walk a step. When I am tired there are two men to help me. +Simpkins, will you and George give Maggie a hand, and keep close to us. +Now, we had better all get home as fast as possible." + +It was more than half-past ten that night before Polly and the Doctor +returned to Sleepy Hollow. But what a journey home she had! how +comforting were the arms that supported her, how restful was the +shoulder, on which now and then in an ecstasy to love and repentance, +she laid her tired head! The stars were no longer terrible, far-off, and +lonely, but near and friendly, like the faces of well-known friends. The +moor ceased to be a great, vast, awful solitude, it smelt of heather, +and was alive with the innumerable sounds of happy living +creatures--and best of all, mother herself seemed to come back out of +the infinite, to comfort the heart of the sorrowful child. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +LIMITS. + + +"And _now_, Maria, I want to know what is the meaning of all this," said +the Doctor. + +It was late that night, very late. Polly was in bed, and Helen lay in +her little white bed also close to Polly's side, so close that the +sisters could hold each other's hands. They lay asleep now, breathing +peacefully, and the Doctor, being satisfied that no serious mischief had +happened to any of his family, meant to have it out with his +sister-in-law. + +Mrs. Cameron was a very brave woman, or at least she considered herself +so; it was perfectly natural that people should fear her, she did not +object to a little wholesome awe on the parts of those who looked up to +her and depended on her words of wisdom. To be afraid on her own part +was certainly not her custom, and yet that evening, as she sat alone in +the deserted old drawing-room, and listened to the wind as it rose +fitfully and moaned through the belt of fir-trees that sheltered the +lawn; as she sat there, pretending to knit, but listening all the time +for footsteps which did not come, she did own to a feeling which she +would not describe as fear, but which certainly kept her from going to +bed, and made her feel somewhat uncomfortable. + +It was about eleven o'clock that night when Dr. Maybright entered the +drawing-room. He was a tall man with a slight stoop, and his eyes looked +somewhat short-sighted. To-night, however, he walked in quickly, holding +himself erect. His eyes, too, had lost their peculiar expression of +nearness of vision, and Mrs. Cameron knew at once that she was in for a +bad time. + +"And now, Maria, I want to know what is the meaning of all this," he +said, coming up close to her. + +She was standing, having gathered up her knitting preparatory to +retiring. + +"I don't understand you, Andrew," she answered, in a somewhat +complaining, but also slightly alarmed voice. "I think it is I who have +to ask for an explanation. How is it that I have been left alone this +entire evening? I had much to say to you--I came here on purpose, and +yet you left me to myself all these hours." + +"Sit down, Maria," said the Doctor, more gently. "I can give you as much +time as you can desire now, and as you will be leaving in the morning it +is as well that we should have our talk out to-night." + +Mrs. Cameron's face became now really crimson with anger. + +"You can say words like that to me?" she said--"your wife's sister." + +"My dear wife's half-sister, and until now my very good friend," +retorted the Doctor. "But, however well you have meant it, you have sown +dissension and unhappiness in the midst of a number of motherless +children, and for the present at least, for all parties, I must ask you, +Maria, to return to Bath." + +Mrs. Cameron sank now plump down into her chair. She was too deeply +offended for a moment to speak. Then she said, shortly: + +"I will certainly return, but from this moment I wash my hands of you +all." + +"I hope not," said the Doctor. "I trust another time you will come to me +as my welcome and invited guest. You see, Maria"--here his eyes +twinkled with that sly humor which characterized him--"it was a +mistake--it always is a mistake to take the full reins of government in +any house uninvited." + +"But, Andrew, you were making such a fool of yourself. After that letter +of yours I felt almost hopeless, so for poor Helen's sake I came, at +_great_ personal inconvenience. Your home is most dreary, the +surroundings appalling in their solitude. No wonder Helen died! Andrew, +I thought it but right to do my best for those poor children. I came, +the house was in a state of riot, you have not an idea what Polly's +conduct was. Disrespectful, insolent, impertinent. I consider her an +almost wicked girl." + +"Stop," said the Doctor. "We are not going to discuss Polly. She behaved +badly, I grant. But I think, Maria, when you locked her up in her room, +and forbade Helen to go to her, and treated her without a spark of +affection or a vestige of sympathy; when you kept up this line of +conduct for four long days, you yourself in God's sight were not +blameless. You at least forgot that you, too, were once fourteen, or +perhaps you never were; no, I am sure you never were what that child is +with all her faults--noble." + +"That is enough, Andrew, we will, as you say, not discuss Polly further. +I leave by the first train that can take me away in the morning. You are +a very much mistaking and ill-judging man; you were never worthy to be +Helen's husband, and I bitterly grieve that her children must be brought +up by you. For Helen's sake alone, I must now give you one parting piece +of advice, it is this: When Miss Grinsted comes, treat her with kindness +and consideration. Keep Miss Grinsted in this house at all hazards, and +there may be a chance for your family." + +"Miss Grinsted!" said the Doctor. "Who, and what do you mean?" + +"Andrew, when I introduce you to such a lady I heap coals of fire on +your head. Miss Grinsted alone can bring order out of chaos, peace out +of strife. In short, when she is established here, I shall feel at rest +as far as my dear sister's memory is concerned." + +"Miss Grinsted is not going to be established in this house," said the +Doctor. "But who is she? I never heard of her before." + +"She is the lady-housekeeper and governess whom I have selected for you. +She arrives at mid-day to-morrow." + +"From where?" + +"How queerly you look at me, Andrew. Nobody would suppose you were just +delivered from a load of household care and confusion. Such a treasure, +too, the best of disciplinarians. She is fifty, a little angular, but +capital at breaking in. What is the matter, Andrew?" + +"What is Miss Grinsted's address?" + +"Well, well; really your manners are bearish. She is staying with an +invalid sister at Exeter at present." + +"Will you oblige me with the street and number of the house?" + +"Certainly; but she can scarcely get here before mid-day now. Her trains +are all arranged." + +"The name of the street and number of the house, if you please, Maria." + +"Vere Street, No. 30. But she can't be here before twelve or one +to-morrow, Andrew." + +"She is never to come here. I shall go into the village the first thing +in the morning, and send her a telegram. She is never to come here. +Maria, you made a mistake, you went too far. If you and I are to speak +to each other in the future, don't let it occur again. Good-night; I +will see that you are called in good time in the morning." + +It was useless either to argue or to fight. Dr. Maybright had, as the +children sometimes described it, a shut-up look on his face. No one was +ever yet known to interfere seriously with the Doctor when he wore that +expression, and Aunt Maria, with Scorpion under her arm, hobbled +upstairs, tired, weary, and defeated. + +"I wash my hands of him and his," she muttered; and the unhappy lady +shed some bitter tears of wounded mortification and vanity as she laid +her head on her pillow. + +"I know I was severe with her," murmured the Doctor to himself, "but +there are some women who must be put down with a firm hand. Yes, I can +bear a great deal, but to have Maria Cameron punishing Polly, and +establishing a housekeeper and governess of her own choosing in this +family is beyond my patience. As I said before, there are limits." + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +THE HIGH MOUNTAINS. + + +Helen and Polly slept late on the following morning. They were both +awakened simultaneously by Nurse, who, holding baby in her arms, came +briskly into the room. Nurse was immediately followed by Alice, bearing +a tray with an appetizing breakfast for both the little girls. + +"The Doctor says you are neither of you to get up until you have had a +good meal," said Nurse. "And, Miss Polly, he'd like to have a word with +you, darling, in his study about eleven o'clock. Eh, dear, but it's +blessed and comforting to have the dear man home again; the house feels +like itself, and we may breathe now." + +"And it's blessed and comforting to have one we wot of away again," +retorted Alice. "The young ladies will be pleased, won't they, Nurse?" + +"To be sure they will. You needn't look so startled, loveys, either of +you. It's only your aunt and the dog what is well quit of the house. +They're on their road to Bath now, and long may they stay there." + +At this news Helen looked a little puzzled, and not very joyful, but +Polly instantly sat up in bed and spoke in very bright tones. + +"What a darling father is! I'm as hungry as possible. Give me my +breakfast, please, Alice; and oh, Nurse, mightn't baby sit between us +for a little in bed?" + +"You must support her back well with pillows," said Nurse. "And see as +you don't spill any coffee on her white dress. Eh! then, isn't she the +sweetest and prettiest lamb in all the world?" + +The baby, whose little white face had not a tinge of color, and whose +very large velvety brown eyes always wore a gentle, heavenly calm about +them, smiled in a slow way. When she smiled she showed dimples, but she +was a wonderfully grave baby, as though she knew something of the great +loss which had accompanied her birth. + +"She is lovely," said Polly. "It makes me feel good even to look at +her." + +"Then be good, for her sake, darling," said Nurse, suddenly stooping and +kissing the bright, vivacious girl, and then bestowing another and +tenderer kiss on the motherless baby. "She's for all the world like +Peace itself," said Nurse. "There ain't no sort of naughtiness or +crossness in her." + +"Oh, she makes me feel good!" said Polly, hugging the little creature +fondly to her side. + +Two hours later Polly stood with her father's arm round her neck: a +slanting ray of sunlight was falling across the old faded carpet in the +study, and mother's eyes smiled out of their picture at Polly from the +wall. + +"You have been punished enough," said the Doctor. "I have sent for you +now just to say a word or two. You are a very young climber, Polly, but +if this kind of thing is often repeated, you will never make any way." + +"I don't understand you, father." + +The Doctor patted Polly's curly head. + +"Child," he said, "we have all of us to go up mountains, and if you +choose a higher one, with peaks nearer to the sky than others, you have +all the more need for the necessary helps for ascent." + +"Father is always delightful when he is allegorical," Polly had once +said. + +Now she threw back her head, looked full into his dearly-loved face, +clasped his hands tightly in both her own, and said with tears filling +her eyes, "I am glad you are going to teach me through a kind of story, +and I think I know what you mean by my trying to climb the highest +mountain. I always did long to do whatever I did a little better than +any one else." + +"Exactly so, Polly; go on wishing that. Still try to climb the highest +mountain, only take with you humility instead of self-confidence, and +then, child, you will succeed, for you will be very glad to avail +yourself of the necessary helps." + +"The helps? What are they, father? I partly know what you mean, but I am +not sure that I quite know." + +"Oh, yes, you quite know. You have known ever since you knelt at your +mother's knee, and whispered your prayers all the better to God because +she was listening too. But I will explain myself by the commonest of +illustrations. A shepherd wanted to rescue one of his flock from a most +perilous situation. The straying sheep had come to a ledge of rock, from +where it could not move either backwards or forwards. It had climbed up +thousands of feet. How was the shepherd to get it? There was one way. +His friends went by another road to the top of the mountain. From there +they threw down ropes, which he bound firmly round him, and then they +drew him slowly up. He reached the ledge, he rescued the sheep, and it +was saved. He could have done nothing without the ropes. So you, too, +Polly, can do nothing worthy; you can never climb your high mountain +without the aid of that prayer which links you to your Father in heaven. +Do you understand?" + +"Yes, I understand," said Polly; "I see. I won't housekeep any more for +the present, father." + +"You had better not, dear; you have plenty of talent for this, as well +as for anything else you like to undertake, but you lack experience now, +and discretion. It was just all this, and that self-confidence which I +alluded to just now, which got my little girl into all this trouble, and +caused Aunt Maria to think very badly of her. Aunt Maria has gone, so we +will say nothing about her just at present. I may be a foolish old +father, Polly, but I own I have a great desire to keep my children to +myself just now. So I shall give Sleepy Hollow another chance of doing +without a grown-up housekeeper. Your governesses and masters shall come +to teach you as arranged, but Helen must be housekeeper, with Mrs. +Power, who is a very managing person, to help her. Helen, too, must have +a certain amount of authority over you all, with the power to appeal to +me in any emergency. This you must submit to, Polly, and I shall expect +you to do so with a good grace." + +"Yes, father." + +"I have acceded to your wishes in the matter of bringing the Australian +children here for at least six months. So you see you will have a good +deal on your hands; and as I have done so at the express wish of Helen +and yourself, I shall expect you both to take a good deal of +responsibility, and to be in every sense of the word, extra good." + +Polly's eyes danced with pleasure. Then she looked up into her father's +face, and something she saw there caused her to clasp her arms round his +neck, and whisper eagerly and impulsively: + +"Father, dear, what Helen told me is _not_ true--is it?" + +"You mean about my eyes, Polly? So Helen knows, and has spoken about it, +poor girl?" + +"Yes, yes, but it isn't true, it can't be?" + +"Don't tremble, Polly. I am quite willing to tell you how things really +are. I don't wish it to be spoken of, but it is a relief to trust some +one. I saw Sir James Dawson when in town. He is the first oculist in +England. He told me that my sight was in a precarious state, and that if +matters turned out unfavorably it is possible, nay probable, that I may +become quite blind. On the other hand, he gives me a prescription which +he thinks and hopes will avert the danger." + +"What is it? Oh! father, you will surely try it?" + +"If you and the others will help me." + +"But what is it?" + +Dr. Maybright stroked back Polly's curls. + +"Very little anxiety," he said. "As much rest as possible, worries +forbidden, home peace and rest largely insisted upon. Now run away, my +dear. I hear the tramp of my poor people. This is their morning, you +remember." + +Polly kissed her father, and quietly left the room. + +"See if I'm not good after that," she murmured. "Wild horses shouldn't +drag me into naughtiness after what father has just said." + + + + +PART II. + +CHAPTER I. + +A COUPLE OF BARBARIANS. + + +All the young Maybrights, with the exception of the baby, were collected +in the morning-room. It was the middle of October. The summer heat had +long departed, the trees were shedding their leaves fast, the sky had an +appearance of coming wind and showers; the great stretch of moorland +which could be seen best in winter when the oaks and elms were bare, was +distinctly visible. The moor had broad shadows on it, also tracts of +intense light; the bracken was changing from green to brown and yellow +color--brilliant color was everywhere. At this time of year the moors +in many ways looked their best. + +The Maybright children, however, were not thinking of the landscape, or +the fast approach of winter, they were busily engaged chattering and +consulting together. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and they knew +that the time left for them to prepare was short, consequently their +busy fingers worked as well as their tongues. Helen was helping the +twins and the little boys to make up a wreath of enormous dimensions, +and Polly, as usual, was flitting about the room, followed by her +satellite Firefly. As usual, too, Polly was first to remark and quickest +to censure. She looked very much like the old Polly; no outward change +was in the least visible, although now she yielded a kind of obedience +to the most gentle and unexacting of sisters, and although she still +vowed daily to herself, that she, Polly, would certainly climb the +highest mountain, and for father's sake would be the best of all his +children. + +"How slow you are, Nell," she now exclaimed, impatiently; "and look what +a crooked 'E' you have made to the end of 'WELCOME.' Oh, don't be so +slow, boys! Paul and Virginia will be here before we are half ready." + +"They can't come before six o'clock," said Helen. "We have two hours yet +left to work in. Do, dear, pretty Polly, find something else to take up +your time, and let the twins and the boys help me to finish this +wreath." + +"Oh, if you don't want me," said Polly, in a slightly offended voice. +"Come along, Fly, we'll go up and see if Virginia's room is ready, and +then we'll pay a visit to our baby. You and I won't stay where we are +not wanted. Come along." + +Fly trotted off by her elder sister's side, a great light of contentment +filling her big eyes. The two scampered upstairs, saw that a cozy nest +was all ready for the Australian girl, while a smaller room at the other +side of the passage was in equal readiness for the boy. + +"Oh, what darling flowers!" said Firefly, running up to the dressing +table in the principal bedroom, and sniffing at the contents of a dainty +blue jar. "Why, Polly, these buds must be from your own pet tea-rose." + +"Yes," said Polly, in a careless voice, "they are; I picked them for +Virginia this morning. I'd do anything for Virginia. I'm greatly excited +about her coming." + +"You never saw her," said Firefly, in an aggrieved voice. "You wouldn't +give me your tea-roses. I don't think it's nice of you to be fonder of +her than you are of me. And Nursie says her name isn't Virginia." + +"Never mind, she's Virginia to me, and the boy is Paul. Why, Fly, what a +jealous little piece you are. Come here, and sit on my lap. Of course +I'm fond of you, Fly, but I'm not excited about you. I know just the +kind of nose you have, and the kind of mouth, and the kind of big, +scarecrow eyes, but you see I don't know anything at all about Virginia, +so I'm making up stories about her, and pictures, all day long. I expect +she's something of a barbarian, both she and her brother, and isn't it +delicious to think of having two real live barbarians in the house?" + +"Yes," said Firefly, in a dubious voice. "I suppose if they are real +barbarians, they won't know a bit how to behave, and we'll have to teach +them. I'll rather like that." + +"Oh, you'll have to be awfully good, Fly, for they'll copy you in every +way; no sulking or sitting crooked, or having untidy hair, or you'll +have a couple of barbarians just doing the very same thing. Now, jump +off my lap, I want to go to Nurse, and you may come with me as a great +treat. I'm going to undress baby. I do it every night; and you may see +how I manage. Nurse says I'm very clever about the way I manage babies." + +"Oh, you're clever about everything," said Fly, with a prolonged, +deep-drawn breath. "Well, Polly, I do hope one thing." + +"Yes?" + +"I do hope that the barbarians will be very, very ugly, for after you've +seen them you won't be curious any more, and after you know them there +won't be any stories to make up, and then you won't love them better +than me." + +"What a silly you are, Fly," responded Polly. + +But she gave her little sister's hand an affectionate squeeze, which +satisfied the hungry and exacting heart of its small owner for the +present. + +Meanwhile the enormous wreath progressed well, and presently took upon +important position over the house doorway. As the daylight was getting +dim, and as it would, in the estimation of the children, be the +cruellest thing possible if the full glories of the wreath were not +visible to the eyes of the strangers when they approached Sleepy Hollow, +lamps were cunningly placed in positions where their full light could +fall on the large "Welcome," which was almost the unaided work of the +twins and their small brothers. + +But now six o'clock was drawing near, and Polly and Firefly joined the +rest of the children in the hall. The whole house was in perfect order; +an excellent supper would be ready at any moment, and there was little +doubt that when the strangers did appear they would receive a most +hearty welcome. + +"Wheels at last!" said Bunny, turning a somersault in the air. + +"Hurrah! Three cheers for the barbarians!" sang out Firefly. + +"I do hope Virginia will be beautiful," whispered Polly, under her +breath. + +Helen went and stood on the doorsteps. Polly suddenly raised a colored +lamp, and waved it above her head. + +"Welcome" smiled down from the enormous wreath, and shone on the +features of each Maybright as the Doctor opened the door of the +carriage, and helped a tall, slender girl, and a little boy in a black +velvet suit, to get out. + +"Our travelers are very hungry, Polly," he said, "and--and--very +tired. Yes, I see you have prepared things nicely for them. But first of +all they must have supper, and after that I shall prescribe bed. +Welcome, my dear children, to Sleepy Hollow! May it be a happy home to +you both." + +"Thank you," said the girl. + +She had a pale face, a quantity of long light hair, and dreamy, sleepy +eyes; the boy, on the contrary, had an alert and watchful expression; he +clung to his sister, and looked in her face when she spoke. + +"Do tell us what you are called," said Polly. "We are all just dying to +know. Oh! I trust, I do trust that you are really Paul and Virginia. How +perfectly lovely it would be if those were your real names." + +The tall girl looked full into Polly's eyes, a strange, sweet, wistful +light filled her own, her words came out musically. + +"I am Flower," she said, "and this is David. I am thirteen years old, +and David is eight. Father sent us away because after mother died there +was no one to take care of us." + +A sigh of intense interest and sympathy fell from the lips of all the +young Maybrights. + +"Come upstairs, Flower; we know quite well how to be sorry for you," +said Helen. + +She took the strange girl's hand, and led her up the broad staircase. + +"I'll stay below," said David. "I'm not the least tired, and my hands +don't want washing. Who's the jolliest here? Couldn't we have a game of +ball? I haven't played ball since I left Ballarat. Flower wouldn't let +me. She said I might when I came here. She spoke about coming here all +the time, and she always wanted to see your mother. She cried the whole +of last night because your mother was dead. Now has nobody got a ball, +and won't the jolliest begin?" + +"I'll play with you, David," said Polly. "Now catch; there! once, twice, +thrice. Aren't you starving? I want my tea, if you don't." + +"Flower said I wasn't to ask for anything to eat now that your mother is +dead," responded David. "She said it wasn't likely we'd stay, but that +while we did I was to be on my good behavior. I hate being on my good +behavior; but Flower's an awful mistress. Yes, of course, I'm starving." + +"Well, come in to tea, then," said Polly, laughing. "Perhaps you will +stay, and anyhow we are glad to have you for a little. Children, please +don't stare so hard." + +"I don't mind," said David. "They may stare if it pleases them; I rather +like it." + +"Like being stared at!" repeated Firefly, whose own sensitive little +nature resented the most transient glance. + +"Yes," responded David, calmly; "it shows that I'm admired; and I know +that I'm a very handsome boy." + +So he was, with dark eyes like a gipsy, and a splendid upright figure +and bearing. Far from being the barbarian of Polly's imagination, he had +some of the airs and graces of a born aristocrat. His calm remarks and +utter coolness astonished the little Maybrights, who rather shrank away +from him, and left him altogether to Polly's patronage. + +At this moment Helen and the young Australian girl came down together. +David instantly trotted up to his sister. + +"She thinks that perhaps we'll stay, Flower," pointing with his finger +at Polly, "and in that case I needn't keep up my company manners, need +I?" + +"But you must behave well, David," responded Flower, "or the English +nation will fancy we are not civilized." + +She smiled in a lovely languid way at her brother, and looked round with +calm indifference at the boys and girls who pressed close to her. + +"Come and have tea," said Helen. + +She placed Flower at her right hand. The Doctor took the head of the +table, and the meal progressed more or less in silence. Flower was too +lazy or too delicate to eat much. David spent all his time in trying to +make Firefly laugh, and in avoiding the Doctor's penetrating glance. The +Maybrights were too astonished at the appearance of their guests to feel +thoroughly at ease. Polly had a sensation of things being somehow rather +flat, and the Doctor wondered much in his inward soul how this new +experiment would work. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +A YOUNG QUEEN. + + +It did not work well as far as Polly was concerned. Whatever she was at +home, whatever her faults and failings, whatever her wild vagaries, or +unreasonable moods, she somehow or other always managed to be first. +First in play, first in naughtiness, first at her lessons, the best +musician, the best artist, the best housekeeper, the best originator of +sports and frolics on all occasions, was Polly Maybright. From this +position, however, she was suddenly dethroned. It was quite impossible +for Polly to be first when Flower was in the room. + +Flower Dalrymple had the ways and manners of a young queen. She was +imperious, often ungracious, seldom obliging, but she had a knack of +getting people to think first of her, of saying the sort of things which +drew attention, and of putting every other little girl with whom she +came into contact completely in the shade. + +In reality, Polly was a prettier girl than Flower. Her eyes were +brighter, her features more regular. But just as much in reality Polly +could not hold a candle to Flower, for she had a sort of a languorous, +slumberous, grace, which exactly suited her name; there was a kind of +etherealness about her, an absolutely out-of-the-common look, which made +people glance at her again and again, each time to discover how very +lovely she was. + +Flower was a perfect contrast to David, being as fair as he was dark. +Her face had a delicate, creamy shade, her eyes were large and light +blue, the lashes and eyebrows being only a shade or two darker than her +long, straight rather dull-looking, yellow hair. She always wore her +hair straight down her back; she was very willowy and pliant in figure, +and had something of the grace and coloring of a daffodil. + +Flower had not been a week in the Maybright family before she contrived +that all the arrangements in the house should be more or less altered to +suit her convenience. She made no apparent complaint, and never put her +wishes into words, still she contrived to have things done to please +her. For instance, long before that week was out, Polly found herself +deprived of the seat she had always occupied at meals by her father's +side. Flower liked to sit near the Doctor, therefore she did so; she +liked to slip her hand into his between the courses, and to look into +his face with her wide-open, pathetic, sweet eyes. Flower could not +touch coffee at breakfast, therefore by common consent the whole family +adopted tea. In the morning-room Flower established herself in mother's +deep arm-chair, hitherto consecrated by all rights and usages to Helen. +As to Polly, she was simply dethroned from her pedestal, her wittiest +remarks fell flat, her raciest stories were received with languid +interest. What were they compared to the thrilling adventures which the +young Australian could tell when she pleased! Not, indeed, that Flower +often pleased, she was not given to many words, her nature was +thoroughly indolent and selfish, and only for one person would she ever +really rouse and exert herself. This person was David; he worshipped +her, and she loved him as deeply as it was in her nature to love any +one. To all appearance, however, it mattered very little who, or how +Flower loved. On all hands, every one fell in love with her. Even Polly +resigned her favorite seat for her, even Helen looked without pain at +mother's beloved chair when Flower's lissome figure filled it. The +younger children were forever offering flowers and fruit at her shrine. +Nurse declared her a bonny, winsome thing, and greatest honor of all, +allowed her to play with little Pearl, the baby, for a few minutes, when +the inclination seized her. Before she was a week in the house, not a +servant in the place but would have done anything for her, and even the +Doctor so far succumbed to her charms as to pronounce her a gracious and +lovable creature. + +"Although I can't make her out," he often said to himself, "I have an +odd instinct which tells me that there is the sleeping lioness or the +wild-cat hidden somewhere beneath all that languid, gracious +carelessness. Poor little girl! she has managed to captivate us all, but +I should not be surprised if she turned out more difficult and +troublesome to manage than the whole of my seven daughters put +together." + +As Flower and David had been sent from Australia especially to be under +the care and guidance of Mrs. Maybright, the Doctor felt more and more +uncertain as to the expediency of keeping the children. + +"It is difficult enough to manage a girl like Polly," he said to +himself; "but when another girl comes to the house who is equally +audacious and untamed--for my Polly is an untamed creature when all's +said and done--how is a poor half-blind old doctor like myself to keep +these two turbulent spirits in order? I am dreadfully afraid the +experiment won't work; and yet--and yet L400 a year is sadly needed to +add to the family purse just now." + +The Doctor was pacing up and down his library while he meditated. The +carpet in this part of the room was quite worn from the many times he +walked up and down it. Like many another man, when he was perplexed or +anxious he could not keep still. There came a light tap at the library +door. + +"Come in!" said the Doctor; and to his surprise Flower, looking more +like a tall yellow daffodil than ever, in a soft dress of creamy Indian +silk, opened the door and took a step or two into the room. + +She looked half-shy, half-bold--a word would have sent her flying, or a +word drawn her close to the kind Doctor's side. + +"Come here, my little girl," he said, "and tell me what you want." + +Flower would have hated any one else to speak of her as a little girl, +but she pushed back her hair now, and looked with less hesitation and +more longing at the Doctor. + +"I thought you'd be here--I ventured to come," she said. + +"Yes, yes; there's no venturing in the matter. Take my arm, and walk up +and down with me." + +"May I, really?" + +"Of course you may, puss. Now I'll warrant anything you have walked many +a carpet bare with your own father. See! this is almost in holes; those +are Polly's steps, these are mine." + +"Oh--yes--well, father isn't that sort of man. I'll take your arm if I +may, Doctor. Thank you. I didn't think--I don't exactly know how to say +what I want to say." + +"Take time, my dear child; and it is no matter how you put the words." + +"When I heard that there was no mother here, I did not want to stay +long. That was before I knew you. Now--I came to say it--I do want to +stay, and so does David." + +"But you don't really know me at all, Flower." + +"Perhaps not really; but still enough to want to stay. May I stay?" + +Flower's charming face looked up inquiringly. + +"May I stay?" she repeated, earnestly. "I do wish it!--very much +indeed." + +Dr. Maybright was silent for a moment. + +"I was thinking about this very point when you knocked at the door," he +said, presently. "I was wondering if you two children could stay. I want +to keep you, and yet I own I am rather fearful of the result. You see, +there are so many motherless girls and boys in this house." + +"But we are motherless, too; you should be sorry for us; you should wish +to keep us." + +"I am very sorry for you. I have grown to a certain extent already to +love you. You interest me much; still, I must be just to you and to my +own children. You are not a common, everyday sort of girl, Flower. I +don't wish to flatter you, and I am not going to say whether you are +nice or the reverse. But there is no harm in my telling you that you are +out of the common. It is probable that you may be extremely difficult to +manage, and it is possible that your disposition may--may clash with +those of some of the members of my own household. I don't say that this +will be the case, mind, only it is possible. In that case, what would +you expect me to do?" + +"To keep me," said Flower, boldly, "and, if necessary, send away the +member of the household, for I am a motherless girl, and I have come +from a long way off to be with you." + +"I don't quite think I can do that, Flower. There are many good mothers +in England who would train you and love you, and there are many homes +where you might do better than here. My own children are placed here by +God himself, and I cannot turn them out. Still--what is the matter, my +dear child?" + +"I think you are unjust; I thought you would be so glad when I said I +wanted to stay." + +"So I am glad; and for the present you are here. How long you remain +depends on yourself. I have no intention of sending you away at present. +I earnestly wish to keep you." + +Another tap came to the study door. + +"If you please, sir," said Alice, "blind Mrs. Jones is in the kitchen, +and wants to know most particular if she can see you." + +"How ridiculous!" said Flower, laughing. + +"Show Mrs. Jones in here, Alice," said the Doctor. + +His own face had grown a shade or two paler. + +"Blind people often speak in that way, Flower," he said, with a certain +intonation in his voice which made her regard him earnestly. + +The memory of a rumor which had reached her ears with regard to the +Doctor's own sight flashed before her. She stooped suddenly, and with an +impulsive, passionate gesture kissed his hand. + +Outside the room David was waiting. + +"Well, Flower, well?" he asked, with intense eagerness. + +"I spoke to him," said Flower. "We are here on sufferance, that's all. +He is the dearest man in all the world, but he is actually afraid of +me." + +"You are rather fierce at times, you know, Flower. Did you tell him +about--about----" + +"About what, silly boy?" + +"About the passions. You know, Flower, we agreed that he had better +know." + +A queer steely light came into Flower's blue eyes. + +"I didn't speak of them," she said. "If I said anything of that sort I'd +soon be packed away. I expect he's in an awful fright about that +precious Polly of his." + +"But Polly is nice," interposed David. + +"Oh, yes, just because she has a rather good-looking face you go over to +her side. I'm not at all sure that I like her. Anyhow, I'm not going to +play second fiddle to her. There now, Dave, go and play. We're here on +sufferance, so be on your good behavior. As to me, you need not be the +least uneasy. I wish to remain at Sleepy Hollow, so, of course, the +passions won't come. Go and play, Dave." + +Firefly called across the lawn. David bounded out of the open window, +and Flower went slowly up to her own room. + +There came a lovely day toward the end of October; St. Martin's summer +was abroad, and the children, with the Doctor's permission, had arranged +to take a long expedition across one of the southern moors in search of +late blackberries. They took their dinner with them, and George, the +under-gardener, accompanied the little party for protection. Nurse +elected, as usual, to stay at home with baby, for nothing would induce +her to allow this treasured little mortal out of her own keeping; but +the Doctor promised, if possible, to join the children at Troublous +Times Castle at two o'clock for dinner. This old ruin was at the extreme +corner of one of the great commons, and was a very favorite resort for +picnics, as it still contained the remains of a fine old banqueting-hall, +where in stormy or uncertain weather a certain amount of shelter could +be secured. + +The children started off early, in capital spirits. A light wind was +blowing; the sky was almost cloudless. The tints of late autumn were +still abroad in great glory, and the young faces looked fresh, careless, +and happy. + +Just at the last moment, as they were leaving the house, an idea darted +through Polly's brain. + +"Let's have Maggie," she said. "I'll go round by the village and fetch +her. She would enjoy coming with us so much, and it would take off her +terror of the moor. Do you know, Helen, she is such a silly thing that +she has been quite in a state of alarm ever since the day we went to the +hermit's hut. I won't be a moment running to fetch Mag; do let's have +her. Firefly, you can come with me." + +Maggie, who now resided with her mother, not having yet found another +situation--for Mrs. Power had absolutely declined to have her back in +the kitchen--was a favorite with all the children. They were pleased +with Polly's proposal, and a chorus of "Yes, by all means, let's have +Maggie!" rose in the air. + +Flower was standing a little apart; she wore a dark green close-fitting +cloth dress; on her graceful golden head was a small green velvet cap. +She was picking a late rose to pieces, and waiting for the others with a +look of languid indifference on her face. Now she roused herself, and +asked in a slightly weary voice: + +"Who is Maggie?" + +"Maggie?" responded Helen, "she was our kitchen-maid; we are all very +fond of her--Polly especially." + +"Fond of a kitchen-maid? I don't suppose you mean that, Helen," said +Flower. "A kitchen-maid's only a servant." + +"I certainly mean it," said Helen, with a little warmth. "I am more or +less fond of all our servants, and Maggie used to be a special +favorite." + +"How extraordinary!" said Flower. "The English nation have very queer +and plebeian ways about them; it's very plebeian to take the least +notice of servants, except to order them to obey you." + +"On the contrary," retorted Polly; "it's the sign of a true lady or +gentleman to be perfectly courteous to their dependents, and if they +deserve love, to give it to them. I'm fond of Maggie; she's a good +little girl, and she shall come to our picnic. Come along, Firefly." + +"I certainly will have nothing to say to Polly while she associates with +a servant," said Flower, slowly, and with great apparent calmness. "I +don't suppose we need all wait for her here. She can follow with the +servant when she gets her. I suppose Polly's whims are not to upset the +whole party." + +"Polly will very likely catch us up at the cross-roads," said Helen, in +a pleasant voice. "Come, Flower, you won't really be troubled with poor +little Maggie; she will spend her day probably with George, and will +help him to wash up our dinner-things after we have eaten. Come, don't +be vexed, Flower." + +"_I_ vexed!" said Flower. "You are quite mistaken. I don't intend to +have anything to say to Polly while she chooses a kitchen-maid for her +friend, but I dare say the rest of you can entertain me. Now, Mabel and +Dolly, shall I tell you what we did that dark night when David and I +stole out through the pantry window?" + +"Oh, yes, yes!" exclaimed the twins. The others all clustered round +eagerly. + +Flower had a very distinct voice, and when she roused herself she could +really be eloquent. A daring little adventure which she and her brother +had experienced lost nothing in the telling, and when Polly, Firefly, +and Maggie, joined the group, they found themselves taken very little +notice of, for all the other children, even Helen, were hanging on +Flower's words. + +"Oh, I say, that isn't fair!" exclaimed Polly, whose spirits were +excellent. "You're telling a story, Flower, and Firefly and I have +missed it. Maggie loves stories, too; don't you, Mag? Do begin again, +please, Flower, please do!" + +Flower did not even pretend to hear Polly's words--she walked straight +on, gesticulating a little now and then, now and then raising her hand +in a slightly dramatic manner. Her clear voice floated back to Polly as +she walked forward, the center of an eager, worshipping, entranced +audience. + +Polly's own temper was rather hasty, she felt her face flushing, angry +words were bubbling to her lips, and she would have flown after the +little party who were so utterly ignoring her, if David had not suddenly +slipped back and put his hand on her arm. + +"I know the story," he said; "so I needn't stay to listen. She's adding +to it awfully. We didn't use any ropes, the window is only three feet +from the ground, and the awful howling and barking of the mastiff was +made by the shabbiest little cur. Flower is lovely, but she does dress +up her stories. I love Flower, but I'll walk with you now, if you'll let +me, Polly." + +"You're very kind, David," said Polly. "But I don't know that I want any +one to walk with me, except Maggie. I think Flower was very rude just +now. Oh, you can stay if you like, David--I don't mind, one way or +another. Isn't this south moor lovely, Maggie? Aren't you glad I asked +you to come with us?" + +"Well, yes, Miss, I be. It was good-natured of you, Miss Polly, only if +there's stories a-going, I'd like to be in at them. I does love +narrations of outlandish places, Miss. Oh, my word, and is that the +little foreign gentleman? It is a disappointment as I can't 'ear what +the young lady's a-telling of." + +"Well, Maggie, you needn't be discontented. _I_ am not hearing this +wonderful story, either. David, what are you nudging me for?" + +"Send her to walk with George," whispered David. "I want to say +something to you so badly, Polly." + +Polly frowned. She did not feel particularly inclined to oblige any one +just now, but David had a pleading way of his own; he squeezed her arm +affectionately, and looked into her face with a world of beseeching in +his big black eyes. After all it was no very difficult matter to get at +Polly's warm heart. She looked over her shoulder. + +"George, will you give Maggie a seat beside you," she said. "No, none of +the rest of us want to drive. Come on, David. Now, David, what is it?" + +"It's about Flower," said David. "She--she--you don't none of you know +Flower yet." + +"Oh, I am not sure of that," replied Polly, speaking on purpose in a +very careless tone. "I suppose she's much like other girls. She's rather +pretty, of course, and has nice ways with her. I made stories about you +both, but you're not a bit like anything I thought of. In some ways +you're nicer, in some not so nice. Why, what is the matter, David? What +are you staring at me so hard for?" + +"Because you're all wrong," responded David. "You don't know Flower. +She's not like other girls; not a bit. There were girls at Ballarat, and +she wasn't like them. But no one wondered at that, for they were rough, +and not like real ladies. And there were girls on board the big ship we +came over in, and they weren't rough, but Flower wasn't a bit like them +either. And she's not like any of you, Polly, although I'm sure you are +nice, and Helen is sweet, and Fly is a little brick. Flower is not like +any other girl I have ever seen." + +"She must be an oddity, then," said Polly. "I hate oddities. Do let's +walk a little faster, David." + +"You are wrong again," persisted David, quickening his steps. "An oddity +is some one to laugh at, but no one has ever dreamed of laughing at +Flower. She is just herself, like no one else in the world. No, you +don't any of you know her yet. I suppose you are every one of you +thinking that she's the very nicest and cleverest and perfectest girl +you ever met?" + +"I'm sure we are not," said Polly. "I think, for my part, there has been +a great deal too much fuss made about her. I'm getting tired of her +airs, and I think she was very rude just now." + +"Oh, don't, Polly, you frighten me. I want to tell you something so +badly. Will you treat it as a great, enormous secret? will you never +reveal it, Polly?" + +"What a queer boy you are," said Polly. "No, I won't tell. What's the +mystery?" + +"It's this. Flower is sometimes--sometimes--oh, it's dreadful to have +to tell!--Flower is sometimes not nice." + +Polly's eyes danced. + +"You're a darling, David!" she said. "Of course, that sister of yours is +not perfect. I'd hate her if she was." + +"But it isn't that," said David. "It's so difficult to tell. When Flower +isn't nice, it's not a small thing, it's--oh, she's awful! Polly, I +don't want any of you ever to see Flower in a passion; you'd be +frightened, oh, you would indeed. We were all dreadfully unhappy at +Ballarat when Flower was in a passion, and lately we tried not to get +her into one. That's what I want you to do, Polly; I want you to try; I +want you to see that she is not vexed." + +"I like that," said Polly. "Am I to be on my 'P's and Q's' for this Miss +Flower of yours? Now, David, what do you mean by a great passion? I'm +rather hot myself. Come, you saw me very cross about the lemonade +yesterday; is Flower worse than that? What fun it must be to see her!" + +"Don't!" said David, turning pale. "You wouldn't speak in that way, +Polly, if you knew. What you did yesterday like Flower? Why, I didn't +notice you at all. Flower's passions are--are---- But I can't speak +of them, Polly." + +"Then why did you tell me?" said Polly. "I can't help her getting into +rages, if she's so silly." + +"Oh, yes, you can, and that's why I spoke to you. She's a little vexed +now, about your having brought the--the kitchen-maid here. I know well +she's vexed, because she's extra polite with every one else. That's a +way she has at first. I don't suppose she'll speak to you, Polly; but +oh, Polly, I will love you so much, I'll do anything in all the world +for you, if only you'll send Maggie home!" + +"What are you dreaming of?" said Polly. "Because Flower is an ill +tempered, proud, silly girl, am I to send poor little Maggie away? No, +David, if your sister has a bad temper, she must learn to control it. +She is living in England now, and she must put up with our English ways; +we are always kind to our servants." + +"Then it can't be helped," said David. "You'll remember that I warned +you--you'll be sorry afterwards! Hullo, Flower--yes, Flower, I'm +coming." + +He flew from Polly's side, going boldly over to what the little girl was +now pleased to call the ranks of the enemy. She felt sorry for a moment, +for Firefly had long since deserted her. Then she retraced her steps, +and walked by Maggie's side for the rest of the time. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +NOT LIKE OTHERS. + + +It was still early when the children reached Troublous Times Castle. Dr. +Maybright would not be likely to join them for nearly an hour. They had +walked fast, and Polly, at least, felt both tired and cross. When the +twins ran up to her and assured her with much enthusiasm that they had +never had a more delightful walk, she turned from them with a little +muttered "Pshaw!" Polly's attentions now to Maggie were most marked, and +if this young person were not quite one of the most obtuse in existence, +it is possible she might have felt slightly embarrassed. + +"While we're waiting for father," exclaimed Polly, speaking aloud, and +in that aggressive tone which had not been heard from her lips since the +night of the supper in the attic--"while we're waiting for father we'll +get the banqueting-hall ready. Maggie and I will see to this, but any +one who likes to join us can. We don't require any assistance, but if it +gives pleasure to any of the others to see us unpack the baskets, now is +the time for them to say the word." + +"But, of course, we're all going to get the dinner ready," exclaimed +Dolly and Katie, in voices of consternation. "What a ridiculous way you +are talking, Polly! This is all our affair; half the fun is getting the +dinner ready. Isn't it, Nell?" + +"Yes, of course," said Helen, in her pleasant, bright voice. "We'll all +do as much as we can do to make the banqueting-hall ready for father. +Now, let's get George to take the hampers there at once; and, Flower, I +thought, perhaps, you would help me to touch up the creepers here and +there, they do look so lovely falling over that ruined west window. +Come, Flower, now let's all of us set to work without any more delay." + +"Yes, Flower, and you know you have such a way of making things look +sweet," said David, taking his sister's hand and kissing it. + +She put her arm carelessly round his neck, stooped down, and pressed her +lips to his brow, then said in that light, arch tone, which she had used +all day, "David is mistaken. I can't make things look sweet, and I'm not +coming to the banqueting-hall at present." + +There was a pointed satire in the two last words. Flower's big blue eyes +rested carelessly on Maggie, then they traveled to where Polly stood, +and a fine scorn curled her short, sensitive upper lip. The words she +had used were nothing, but her expressive glance meant a good deal. +Polly refused to see the world of entreaty on David's face--she threw +down her challenge with equal scorn and a good deal of comic dignity. + +"It's a very good thing, then, you're not coming to the banqueting-hall, +Flower," she said. "For we don't want people there who have no taste. I +suppose it's because you are an Australian, for in England even the +cottagers know a little about how to make picnics look pretty. Maggie is +a cottager at present, as she's out of a situation, so it's lucky we've +brought her. Now, as every one else wants to come, let them, and don't +let's waste any more time, or when father comes, we really will have +nothing ready for him to eat." + +"Very well," said Flower. "Then I shall take a walk by myself. I wish to +be by myself. No, David you are not to come with me, I forbid it." + +For a quarter of a second a queer steely light filled her blue eyes. +David shrank from her glance, and followed the rest of the party down a +flight of steps which led also into the old banqueting-hall. + +"You've done it now," he whispered to Polly. "You'll be very, very sorry +by-and-by, and you'll remember then that I warned you." + +"I really think you're the most tiresome boy," said Polly. "You want to +make mysteries out of nothing. I don't see that Flower is particularly +passionate; she's a little bit sarcastic, and she likes to say nasty, +scathing things, but you don't suppose I mind her! She'll soon come to +her senses when she sees that we are none of us petting her, or bowing +down to her. I expect that you and your father have spoiled that Flower +of yours over in Ballarat." + +"You don't know Flower a bit," responded David. "I warned you. You'll +remember that presently. Flower not passionate! Why, she was white with +passion when she went away. Well, you wait and see." + +"I wish you'd stop talking," responded Polly, crossly. "We'll never have +things ready if you chatter so, and try to perplex me. There's poor Fly +almost crying over that big hamper. Please, David, go and help her to +get the knives, and forks, and glasses out, and don't break any glasses, +for we're always fined if we break glasses at picnics." + +David moved away slowly. He was an active little fellow as a rule, but +now there seemed to be a weight over him. The vivaciousness had left his +handsome dark little face; once he turned round and looked at Polly with +a volume of reproach in his eyes. + +She would not meet his eyes, she was bending over her own hamper, and +was laughing and chatting gayly with every one who came within her +reach. The moment Flower's influence was removed Polly became once more +the ringleader of all the fun. Once more she was appealed to, her advice +asked, her directions followed. She could not help admitting to herself +that she liked the change, and for the first time a conscious feeling of +active dislike to Flower took possession of her. What right had this +strange girl to come and take the lead in everything? No, she was +neither very pretty nor very agreeable; she was a conceited, +ill-tempered, proud creature, and it was Polly's duty, of course it was +Polly's duty, to see that she was not humored. Was there anything so +unreasonable and monstrous as her dislike to poor little Maggie? Poor +little harmless Maggie, who had never done her an ill-turn in her life. +Really David had been too absurd when he proposed that Maggie should be +sent home. David was a nice boy enough, but he was not to suppose that +every one was to bow down to his Queen Flower. Ridiculous! let her go +into passions if she liked, she would soon be tamed and brought to her +senses when she had been long enough in England. + +Polly worked herself up into quite a genuine little temper of her own, +as she thought, and she now resolved, simply and solely for the purpose +of teasing Flower, that Maggie should dine with them all, and have a +seat of honor near herself. When she had carelessly thought of her +coming to the picnic, she, of course, like all the others, had intended +that Maggie and George should eat their dinner together after the great +meal was over; and even Helen shook her head now when Polly proposed in +her bright audacious way that Maggie should sit near her, in one of the +best positions, where she could see the light flickering through the +ivy, which nearly covered the beautiful west window. + +"As you like, of course, Polly," responded Helen. "But I do think it is +putting Maggie a little out of her place. Perhaps father won't like it, +and I'm sure Flower won't." + +"I'll ask father myself, when he arrives," answered Polly, choosing to +ignore the latter part of Helen's speech. + +The banqueting-hall, which was a perfect ruin at one end, was still +covered over at the other. And it was in this portion, full of +picturesque half-lights and fascinating dark corners, that the children +had laid out their repast. The west window was more than fifty feet +distant. It was nearly closed in with an exquisite tracery of ivy; but +as plenty of light poured into the ruin from the open sky overhead, this +mattered very little, and but added to the general effect. The whole +little party were very busy, and no one worked harder than Polly, and no +one's laugh was more merry. Now and then, it is true, an odd memory and +a queer sensation of failure came over her. Was she really--really +to-day, at least--trying to climb successfully the highest mountain? +She stifled the little voice speaking in her heart, delighted her +brothers and sisters, and even caused a smile to play round David's +grave lips as she made one witty remark after another. Firefly in +particular was in ecstasies with her beloved sister, and when the Doctor +at last appeared on the scene the fun was at its height. + +The moment he entered the banqueting-hall Polly went up to him, put on +her archest and most pleading expression, and said in a tone of inquiry: + +"It's all so delightful, and such a treat for her. And you don't mind, +do you father?" + +"I don't know that I mind anything at this moment, Polly, for I am +hungry, and your viands look tempting of the tempting. Unless you bid me +not to come to the feast, I shall quarrel with no other suggestion." + +"Oh! you darlingest of fathers; then you won't be angry if poor Maggie +sits next me; and has her dinner with us? She is a little afraid of the +moor, and I wanted to cure her, so I brought her to-day, and she will be +so happy if she can sit next me at dinner." + +"Put her where you please, my dear; we are not sitting on forms or +standing on ceremony at present. And now to dinner, to dinner, children, +for I must be off again in an hour." + +No one noticed, not even David, that while the Doctor was speaking a +shadow stole up and remained motionless by the crumbling stairs of the +old banqueting-hall; no one either saw when it glided away. Polly +laughed, and almost shouted; every one, Flower excepted, took their +places as best they could on the uneven floor of the hall; the white +tablecloth was spread neatly in the middle. Every one present was +exceedingly uncomfortable physically, and yet each person expressed him +or herself in tones of rapture, and said never was such food eaten, or +such a delightful dinner served. + +For a long time Flower was not even missed; then David's grave face +attracted the Doctor's attention. + +"What is the matter, my lad?" he said. "Have you a headache? Don't you +enjoy this _al fresco_ sort of entertainment? And, by the way, I don't +see your sister. Helen, my dear, do you know where Flower is? Did not +she come with you?" + +"Of course she did, father; how stupid and careless of me never to have +missed her." + +Helen jumped up from the tailor-like position she was occupying on the +floor. + +"Flower said she would take a little walk," she continued. "And I must +say I forgot all about her. She ought to have been back ages ago." + +"Flower went by herself for a walk on the moor!" echoed the Doctor. "But +that isn't safe; she may lose her way, or get frightened. Why did you +let her go, children?" + +No one answered; a little cloud seemed to have fallen on the merry +party. Polly again had a pinprick of uneasiness in her heart, and a +vivid recollection of the highest mountain which she was certainly not +trying to climb. + +The Doctor said he would go at once to look for Flower. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +A YOUNG AUSTRALIAN. + + +David was quite right when he said his sister was not like other girls. +There was a certain element of wildness in her; she had sweet manners, a +gracious bearing, an attractive face; but in some particulars she was +untamed. Never had that terrible strong temper of hers been curbed. More +than one of the servants in the old home at Ballarat had learnt to dread +it. When Flower stormed, her father invariably left home, and David shut +himself up in his own room. Her mother, an affectionate but not +particularly strong-minded woman, alone possessed sufficient courage to +approach the storm-tossed little fury. Mrs. Dalrymple had a certain +power of soothing the little girl, but even she never attempted to teach +the child the smallest lessons of self-control. + +This unchecked, unbridled temper grew and strengthened with Flower's +growth. When under its influence she was a transformed being, and David +had good reason to be afraid of her. + +In addition to an ungovernable temper, Flower was proud; she possessed +the greatest pride of all, that of absolute ignorance. She believed +firmly in caste; had she lived in olden days in America, she would have +been a very cruel mistress of slaves. Yet with it all Flower had an +affectionate heart; she was generous, loyal, but she was so thoroughly a +spoiled and untrained creature that her good qualities were nearly lost +under the stronger sway of her bad ones. + +After her mother's death Flower had fretted so much that she had grown +shadowy and ill. It was then her father conceived the idea of sending +her and David to an English family to train and educate. He could not +manage Flower, he could not educate David. The Maybrights were heard of +through a mutual friend, and Flower was reconciled to the thought of +leaving the land and home of her birth because she was told she was +going to another mother. She dried her eyes at this thought, and was +tolerably cheerful during the voyage over. On reaching England the news +of Mrs. Maybright's death was broken to her. Again Flower stormed and +raged; she gave poor little David a dreadful night, but in the morning +her tears were dried, her smile had returned, and she went down to +Sleepy Hollow with the Doctor in fairly good spirits. + +The young Maybrights were all on their best behavior--Flower was on +hers, and until the day of the picnic all went well. + +It did not take a great deal to rouse first the obstinate pride of this +young Australian, and then her unbridled passions. Associate with a +servant? No, that she would never, never do. Show Polly that she +approved of her conduct? Not while her own name was Flower Dalrymple. +She let all the other happy children go down to the banqueting-hall +without her, and strode away, miserable at heart, choking with rage and +fury. + +The Dalrymples were very wealthy people, and Flower's home in Ballarat +was furnished with every luxury. Notwithstanding this, the little girl +had never been in a truly refined dwelling-house until she took up her +abode in old-fashioned Sleepy Hollow. Flower had taken a great fancy to +Helen, and she already warmly loved Dr. Maybright. She was wandering +over the moor now, a miserable, storm-tossed little personage, when she +saw his old-fashioned gig and white pony "Rowney" approaching. That old +gig and the person who sat in it--for Dr. Maybright drove +himself--began to act on the heart of the child with a curious magnetic +force. Step by step they caused her to turn, until she reached Troublous +Times Castle almost as soon as the Doctor. She did not know why she was +coming back, for she had not the remotest idea of yielding her will to +Polly's. Still she had a kind of instinct that the Doctor would set +things right. By this she meant that he would give her her own way and +banish Maggie from the scene of festivity. + +The banqueting-hall at the old castle could be reached by two ways: you +might approach it quite easily over the green sward, or you might enter +a higher part of the castle, and come to it down broken steps. + +The Doctor chose one way of approaching the scene of the feast, Flower +another. She was about to descend when she heard voices: Polly was +eagerly asking permission for Maggie to dine with them; the Doctor, in +his easy, genial tones, was giving it to her. That was enough. If Flower +had never known before what absolute hatred was like, she knew it now. +She hated Polly; ungovernable passion mounted to her brain, filled her +eyes, lent wings to her feet; she turned and fled. + +Although the month was October, it was still very hot in the middle of +the day on the open moor. Flower, however, was accustomed to great heat +in her native home, and the full rays of the sun did not impede her +flight. She was so tall and slight and willowy that she was a splendid +runner, but the moor was broken and rough, interspersed here and there +with deep bracken, here and there with heather, here and there again +with rank clumps of undergrowth. The young girl, half blinded with rage +and passion, did not see the sharp points of the rocks or the brambles +in her path. Once or twice she fell. After her second fall she was so +much bruised and hurt, that she was absolutely forced to sit still in +the midst of the yellow-and-brown bracken. It was in a bristling, +withered state, but it still stood thick and high, and formed a kind of +screen all round Flower as she sat in it. She took off her cap, and idly +fanned her hot face with it; her yellow head could scarcely be +distinguished from the orange-and-gold tints of the bracken which +surrounded her. + +In this way the Doctor, who was now anxiously looking for Flower, missed +her, for he drove slowly by, not a hundred yards from her hiding-place. + +As Flower sat and tried to cool herself, she began to reflect. Her +passion was not in the least over; on the contrary, its most dangerous +stage had now begun. As she thought, there grew up stronger and stronger +in her heart a great hatred for Polly. From the first, Flower had not +taken so warmly to Polly as she had done to Helen. The fact was, these +girls were in many ways too much alike. Had it been Polly's fate to be +born and brought up in Ballarat, she might have been Flower over again. +She might have been even worse than Flower, for she was cleverer; on the +other hand, had Flower been trained by Polly's wise and loving mother, +she might have been a better girl than Polly. + +As it was, however, these two must inevitably clash. They were like two +queen bees in the same hive; they each wanted the same place. It only +needed a trifle to bring Flower's uneasy, latent feeling against Polly +to perfection. The occasion arose, the match had fired the easily +ignited fuel, and Flower sat now and wondered how she could best revenge +herself on Polly. + +After a time, stiff and limping, for she had hurt her ankle, she +recommenced her walk across the moor. She had not the least idea where +her steps were leading her. She was tired, her feet ached, and her great +rage had sufficiently cooled to make her remember distinctly that she +had eaten no dinner; still, she plodded on. From the time she had left +Troublous Times Castle she had not encountered an individual, but now, +as she stepped forward, a man suddenly arose from his lair in the grass +and confronted her. He was a black-eyed, unkempt, uncouth-looking +person, and any other girl would have been very much afraid of him. He +put his arms akimbo, a disagreeable smile crossed his face, and he +instantly placed himself in such a position as completely to bar the +girl's path. + +An English girl would have turned pale at such an apparition in so +lonely a place, but Flower had seen bushmen in her day, and did not +perceive anything barbarous or outlandish in the man's appearance. + +"I'm glad I've met you," she said, in her clear dulcet voice, "for you +can tell me where I am. I want to get to Sleepy Hollow, Dr. Maybright's +place--am I far away?" + +"Two miles, as the crow flies," responded the man. + +"But I can't go as the crow flies. What is the best way to walk? Can't +you show me?" + +"No-a. I be sleepy. Have you got a coin about you, Miss?" + +"Money? No. I left my purse at home. I have not got a watch either, nor +a chain, but I have got a little ring. It is very thin, but it is pure +gold, and I am fond of it. I will give it to you if you will take me the +very nearest way to Sleepy Hollow." + +The man grinned again. "You _be_ a girl!" he said, in a tone of +admiration. "Yes, I'll take you; come." + +He turned on his heel, shambled on in front, and Flower followed. + +In this manner the two walked for some time. Suddenly they mounted a +ridge, and then the man pointed to where the Doctor's house stood, snug +in its own inclosure. + +"Thank you," said Flower. + +She took a little twist of gold off her smallest finger, dropped it into +the man's dirty, open palm, and began quickly to descend the ridge in +the direction of the Hollow. It was nearly three o'clock when she +entered the cool, wide entrance-hall. The house felt still and restful. +Flower acknowledged to herself that she was both tired and hungry, but +her main idea to revenge herself on Polly was stronger than either +fatigue or hunger. She walked into the dining-room, cut a thick slice +from a home-made loaf of bread, broke off a small piece to eat at once, +and put the rest into her pocket. A dish of apples stood near; she +helped herself to two, stowed them away with the bread in the capacious +pocket of her green cloth dress, and then looked around her. She had got +to Polly's home, but how was she to accomplish her revenge? How strike +Polly through her most vulnerable point? + +She walked slowly upstairs, meditating as she went. Her own little +bower-like room stood open; she entered it. Polly's hands had been +mainly instrumental in giving choice touches to this room; Polly's +favorite blue vase stood filled with flowers on the dressing-table, and +a lovely photograph of the Sistine Madonna which belonged to Polly hung +over the mantelpiece. Flower did not look at any of these things. She +unlocked a small drawer in a dainty inlaid cabinet, which she had +brought with her from Ballarat, took out two magnificent diamond rings, +a little watch set with jewels, and a small purse, very dainty in +itself, but which only held a few shillings. She put all these treasures +into a small black velvet bag, fastened the bag round her neck by a +narrow gold chain, and then leaving her room, stood once more in a +contemplative attitude on the landing. + +She was ready now for flight herself, for when she had revenged herself +on Polly, she must certainly fly. But how should she accomplish her +revenge? what should she do? She thought hard. She knew she had but +little time, for the Doctor and the children might return at any moment. + +In the distance she heard the merry laugh of Polly's little sister, +Pearl. Flower suddenly colored, her eyes brightened, and she said to +herself: + +"That is a good idea; I will go and have a talk with Nurse. I can find +out somehow from Nurse what Polly likes best." + +She ran at once to the nurseries. + +"My dear Miss Flower," exclaimed Nurse. "Why, wherever have you been, +Miss? I thought you was with the others. Well! you do look tired and +fagged." + +"I have walked home," said Flower, carelessly. "I didn't care to be out +so long; picnics are nothing to me; I'm accustomed to that sort of thing +on a big scale at Ballarat, you know. I walked home, and then I thought +I'd have a chat with you, if you didn't mind." + +"For sure, dear. Sit you down in that easy chair, Miss Flower; and would +you like to hold baby for a bit? Isn't she sweet to-day? I must say I +never saw a more knowing child for her age." + +"She is very pretty," said Flower, carelessly. "But I don't think I'll +hold her, Nurse. I'm not accustomed to babies, and I'm afraid she might +break or something. Do you know I never had a baby in my arms in my +life? I don't remember David when he was tiny. No, I never saw anything +so young and soft and tiny as this little Pearl; she _is_ very pretty." + +"Eh, dear lamb," said Nurse, squeezing the baby to her heart, "she's the +very sweetest of the sweet. Now you surprise me, Miss Flower, for I'd +have said you'd be took up tremendous with babies, you has them winsome +ways. Why, look at the little dear, she's laughing even now to see you. +She quite takes to you, Miss--the same as she does to Miss Polly." + +"She takes to Polly, does she?" said Flower. + +"Take to her? I should say so, Miss; and as to Miss Polly, she just +worships baby. Two or three times a day she comes into the nursery, and +many and many a time she coaxes me to let her bathe her. The fact is, +Miss Flower, we was all in a dreadful taking about Miss Polly when her +mamma died. She was quite in a stunned sort of state, and it was baby +here brought her round. Ever since then our little Miss Pearl has been +first of all with Miss Polly." + +"Give her to me," said Flower, in a queer, changed voice. "I've altered +my mind--I'd like to hold her. See, is she not friendly? Yes, baby, +kiss me, baby, with your pretty mouth. Does she not coo--isn't she +perfect? You are quite right, Nurse. I do like to hold her, very much +indeed." + +"I said she'd take to you, Miss," said Nurse, in a gratified voice. + +"So she does, and I take to her. Nurse, I wonder if you'd do something +for me?" + +"Of course I will, my dear." + +"I am so awfully hungry. Would you go down' to the kitchen and choose a +nice little dinner for me?" + +"I'll ring the bell, Miss Dalrymple. Alice shall bring it to you on a +tray here, if you've a mind to eat it in the nursery." + +"But I do want you to choose something; do go yourself, and find +something dainty. Do, Nursie, please Nursie. I want to be spoiled a +little bit; no one ever spoils me now that my mamma is dead." + +"Bless the child!" said good-natured and unsuspicious Nurse. "Of course +I'll go, if you put it that way, Missy. Well, take care of baby, Miss +Flower. Don't attempt to carry her; hold her steady with your arm firm +round her back. I'll bring you your dinner in ten minutes at latest, +Miss." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +FORSAKEN. + + +The moment Nurse's footsteps died away Flower sprang to her feet, +snatched up a white wool shawl, which lay over the baby's cot, wrapped +it round her, and flew downstairs with the little creature in her arms. + +Out through a side door which stood open ran Flower, down by the +shrubbery, over the stile, and in a few moments she was out again on the +wide, wild, lonely moor with Polly's pet pressed close to her beating +heart. Long before Nurse had returned to the nursery Flower had reached +the moor, and when poor, distracted Nurse discovered her loss, Flower +had wriggled herself into the middle of a clump of young oak-trees, and +was fondling and petting little Pearl, who sat upright on her knee. From +her hiding-place Flower could presently hear footsteps and voices, but +none of them came near her, and for the present baby was contented, and +did not cry. After a time the footsteps moved further off, and Flower +peeped from her shelter. + +"Now, baby, come on," she said. She wrapped the shawl again firmly round +the little one, and started with a kind of trotting motion over the +outskirts of the moor. She was intensely excited, and her cheeks were +flushed with the first delicious glow of victory. Oh, how sorry Polly +would be now for having attempted to oppose her. Yes, Polly would know +now that Flower Dalrymple was not a person to be trifled with. + +She was really a strong girl, though she had a peculiarly fragile look. +The weight of the three months' old baby was not very great, and for a +time she made quite rapid progress. After she had walked about a mile +she stood still to consider and to make her plans. No more ignorant girl +in all England could perhaps be found than this same poor silly, +revengeful Flower; but even she, with all her ideas Australian, and her +knowledge of English life and ways simply null and void, even she knew +that the baby could not live for a long time without food and shelter on +the wide common land which lay around. She did not mean to steal baby +for always, but she thought she would keep her for a month or two, until +Polly was well frightened and repentant, and then she would send her +back by some kind, motherly woman whom she was sure to come across. As +to herself, she had fully made up her mind never again to enter the +doors of Sleepy Hollow, for it would be impossible for her, she felt, to +associate with any people who had sat down to dinner with the +kitchen-maid. Holding the baby firmly in her arms, Flower stood and +hesitated. The warm fleecy white shawl sheltered little Pearl from all +cold, and for the present she slept peacefully. + +"I must try and find some town," thought Flower. "I must walk to some +town--the nearest, I suppose--with baby. Then I will sell one of my +rings, and try to get a nice woman to give me a lodging. If she is a +motherly person--and I shall certainly look out for some one that +is--I can give her little Pearl when I get tired of her, and she can +take her back to Sleepy Hollow. But I won't give Pearl up for the +present; for, in the first place she amuses me, and in the next I wish +Polly to be well punished. Now I wonder which is the nearest way to the +town? If I were at Ballarat, I should know quickly enough by the +sign-posts placed at intervals all over the country, but they don't seem +to have anything of the sort here in barbarous England. Now, how shall I +get to the nearest town without meeting any one who would be likely to +tell Dr. Maybright?" + +Flower had scarcely expressed herself in this fashion before once again +the rough-looking man crossed her path. She greeted him quite joyfully. + +"Oh! you're just the person I want," she exclaimed. "I've got my purse +now, and a little money in it. Would you like to earn a shilling?" + +"Sure-_ly_," said the man. "But I'd a sight rather 'arn two," he added. + +"I'll give you two. I have not got much money, but I'll certainly give +you two shillings if you'll help me now. I have got a little baby +here--a dear little baby, but she's rather heavy. I am running away +with her to revenge myself on somebody. I don't mind telling you that, +for you look like an outlaw yourself, and you'll sympathize with me. I +want you to carry baby for me, and to take us both to the nearest town. +Do you hear? Will you do it?" + +"Sure-_ly_," said the man, favoring Flower with a long, peculiar glance. + +"Well, here's baby; you must be very careful of her. I'll give you +_three_ shillings after you have taken her and me to the nearest town; +and if you are really kind, and walk quickly, and take us to a nice +restaurant where I can have a good dinner--for I am awfully +hungry--you shall have something to eat yourself as well. Now walk on +in front of me, please, and don't waste any more time, for it would be +dreadful if we were discovered." + +The man shambled on at once in front of Flower; his strong arms +supported little Pearl comfortably, and she slumbered on in an unbroken +dream. + +The bright sunlight had now faded, the short October day was drawing in, +the glory and heat of the morning had long departed, and Flower, whose +green cloth dress was very light in texture, felt herself shivering in +the sudden cold. + +"Are you certain you are going to the nearest town?" she called out to +the man. + +"Sure-_ly_," he responded back to her. He was stepping along at a +swinging pace, and Flower was very tired, and found it difficult to keep +up with him. Having begged of him so emphatically to hurry, she did not +like to ask him now to moderate his steps. To keep up with him at all +she had almost to run; and she was now not only hungry, cold, and tired, +but the constant quick motion took her breath away. They had left the +border of the moor, and were now in the middle of a most desolate piece +of country. As Flower looked around her she shivered with the first real +sensation of loneliness she had ever known. The moor seemed to fill the +whole horizon. Desolate moor and lowering sky--there seemed to be +nothing else in all the world. + +"Where is the nearest town?" she gasped at last. "Oh, what a long, long +way off it is!" + +"It's miles away!" said the man, suddenly stopping and turning round +fiercely upon her; "but ef you're hungry, there's a hut yer to the left +where my mother lives. She'll give you a bit of supper and a rest, ef so +be as you can pay her well." + +"Oh, yes, I can pay her," responded Flower. The thought of any shelter +or any food was grateful to the fastidious girl now. + +"I am very hungry and very tired," she said. "I will gladly rest in your +mother's cottage. Where is it?" + +"I said as it wor a hut. There are two dawgs there: be you afeard?" + +"Of _dogs_? I am not afraid of anything!" said Flower, curling her short +lip disdainfully. + +"You _be_ a girl!" responded the man. He shambled on again in front, and +presently they came in sight of the deserted hermit's hut, where Polly +and Maggie a few weeks before had been led captive. A woman was standing +in the doorway, and by her side, sitting up on their haunches, were two +ugly, lean-looking dogs. + +"Down, Cinder and Flinder!" said the woman. "Down you brutes! Now, +Patrick, what have you been up to? Whatever's that in your arms, and +who's a-follering of yer?" + +"This yer's a babby," said the man, "and this yer's a girl. She," +pointing to Flower, "wants to be took to the nearest town, and she have +money to pay, she says." + +"Oh! she have money to pay?" said the wife of Micah Jones--for it was +she. "Them as has money to pay is oilers and oilers welcome. Come in, +and set you down by the fire, hinney. Well, well, and so you has brought +a babby with you! Give it to me, Pat. What do you know, you great +hulking feller! about the tending of babbies?" + +The man gladly relinquished his charge, then pointed backwards with his +finger at Flower. + +"She's cold and 'ungry, and she has money to pay," he said. + +"Come in, then, Missy, come in; yer's a good fire, and a hunk of cheese, +and some brown bread, and there'll be soup by-and-by. Yes," winking at +her son, "there'll be good strong soup by-and-by." + +Flower, who had come up close to the threshold of the hut, now drew back +a step or two. At sight of the woman her courage had revived, her +feeling of extreme loneliness had vanished, and a good deal of the +insolence which often marked her bearing had in consequence returned to +her. + +"I won't go in," she said. "It looks dirty in there and I hate dirt. No, +I won't go in! Bring me some food out here, please. Of course I'll pay +you." + +"Highty-tighty!" said the woman. "And is wee babby to stay out in the +cold night air?" + +"I forgot about the baby," said Flower. "Give her to me. Is the night +air bad for babies?" she asked, looking up inquiringly at the great +rough woman who stood by her side. + +Flower's utter and fearless indifference to even the possibility of +danger had much the same effect on Mrs. Jones that it had upon her son. +They both owned to a latent feeling of uneasiness in her presence. Had +she showed the least trace of fear; had she dreaded them, or tried in +any way to soften them, they would have known how to manage her. But +Flower addressed them much as she would have done menials in her kitchen +at home. The mother, as well as the son, muttered under her +breath--"Never see'd such a gel!" She dropped the baby into Flower's +outstretched arms, and answered her query in a less surly tone than +usual. + +"For sure night air is bad for babes, and this little 'un is young. Yes, +werry young and purty." + +The woman pulled aside the white fluffy shawl; two soft clear brown eyes +looked up at her, and a little mouth was curved to a radiant smile. + +"Fore sure she's purty," said the woman. "Look, Patrick. She minds me +o'--well, never mind. Missy, it ain't good for a babe like that to be +out in the night air. You're best in the house, and so is the babe. The +dawgs shan't touch yer. Come into the house, and I'll give yer what +supper's going, and the babe, pretty crittur, shall have a drink of +milk." + +"I would not injure the baby," said Flower. She held both arms firm +round it, and entered the smoky, dismal hut. + +The wife of Micah Jones moved a stool in front of the fire, pushed +Flower rather roughly down on it, and then proceeded to cut thick +hunches of sour bread and cheese. This was quite the coarsest food +Flower had ever eaten, and yet she never thought anything more +delicious. While she ate the woman sat down opposite her. + +"I'll take the babe now and feed it," she said. "The pretty dear must be +hungry." + +It was not little Pearl's way to cry. It was her fashion to look +tranquilly into all faces, and to take calmly every event, whether +adverse or otherwise. When she looked at Flower she smiled, and she +smiled again into the face of the rough woman who, in consequence, fed +her tenderly with the best she had to give. + +"Is the soup done?" said the rough man, suddenly coming forward. "It's +soup I'm arter. It's soup as'll put life into Miss, and give her a mind +to walk them miles to the nearest town." + +The woman laughed back at her son. + +"The soup's in the pot," she said. "You can give it a stir, Pat, if you +will. Nathaniel will be in by-and-by, and he'll want his share. But you +can take a bowl now, if you like, and give one to Missy." + +"Ay," said the man, "soup's good; puts life into a body." + +He fetched two little yellow bowls filled one for Flower, stirring it +first with a pewter spoon. + +"This'll put life into you, Miss," he said. + +He handed the bowl of soup to the young girl. All this time the woman +was bending over the baby. Suddenly she raised her head. + +"'Tis a bonny babe," she said. "Ef I was you, Pat, I wouldn't stir +Missy's soup. I'd give her your own bowl. I has no quarrel with Miss, +and the babe is fair. Give her your own soup, Patrick." + +"It's all right, mother, Miss wouldn't eat as much as in my bowl. You +ain't 'ungry enough for that, be you, Miss?" + +"I am very hungry," said Flower, who was gratefully drinking the hot +liquid. "I could not touch this food if I was not _very_ hungry. If I +want more soup I suppose I can have some more from the pot where this +was taken. What is the matter, woman? What are you staring at me for?" + +"I think nought at all of you," said the woman, frowning, and drawing +back, for Flower's tone was very rude. "But the babe is bonny. Here, +take her back, she's like--but never mind. You'll be sleepy, maybe, and +'ud like to rest a bit. I meant yer no harm, but Patrick's powerful, and +he and Nat, they does what they likes. They're the sons of Micah Jones, +and he was a strong man in his day. You'd like to sleep, maybe, Missy. +Here, Patrick, take the bowl from the girl's hand." + +"I do feel very drowsy," said Flower. "I suppose it is from being out +all day. This hut is smoky and dirty, but I'll just have a doze for five +minutes. Please, Patrick, wake me at the end of five minutes, for I +must, whatever happens, reach the nearest town before night." + +As Flower spoke her eyes closed, and the woman, laying her back on some +straw, put the baby into her arms. + +"She'll sleep sound, pretty dear," she said. "Ef I was you I wouldn't +harm her, just for the sake of the babe," she concluded. + +"Why, mother, what's took you? _I_ won't hurt Missy. It's her own fault +ef she runs away, and steals the baby. That baby belongs to the doctor +what lives in the Hollow; it's nought special, and you needn't be took +up with it. Ah, here comes Nathaniel. Nat, I've found a lass wandering +on the moor, and I brought her home, and now the mother don't want us to +share the booty." + +Nathaniel Jones was a man of very few words indeed. He had a fiercer, +wilder eye than his brother, and his evidently was the dominant and +ruling spirit. + +"The moon's rising," he said; "she'll be at her full in half an hour. Do +your dooty, mother, for we must be out of this, bag and baggage, in half +an hour." + +Without a word or a sigh, or even a glance of remorse, Mrs. Jones took +the cap from Flower's head, and feeling around her neck discovered the +gold chain which held the little bag of valuables. Without opening this +she slipped it into her pocket. Flower's dainty shoes were then removed, +and the woman looked covetously at the long, fine, cloth dress, but +shook her head over it. + +"I'd wake her if I took it," she said. + +"No, you wouldn't, I drugged the soup well," said Pat. + +"Well, anyhow, I'll leave her her dress. There's nought more but a +handkerchief with a bit of lace on it." + +"Take the baby's shawl," said Nathaniel, "and let us be off. If the moon +goes down we won't see the track. Here, mother, I'll help myself to the +wrap." + +"No, you won't," said the woman. "You don't touch the babe with the pale +face and the smile of Heaven. I'm ready; let's go." + +The dogs were called, and the entire party strode in single file along a +narrow path, which led away in a westerly direction over Peg-Top Moor. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +WITHOUT HER TREASURE. + + +"There is a great fuss made about it all," said Polly. + +This was her remark when her father left the pleasant picnic dinner and +drove away over the moor in search of Flower. + +"There is a great fuss made over it all. What is Flower more than any +other girl? Why should she rule us all, and try to make things +uncomfortable for us? No, David, you need not look at me like that. If +Flower has got silly Australian notions in her head, she had better get +rid of them as fast as possible. She is living with English people now, +and English people all the world over won't put up with nonsense." + +"It isn't Flower's ways I mean," said David. "Her ways and her thoughts +aren't much, but it's--it's when she gets into a passion. There's no +use talking about it--you have done it now, Polly!--but Flower's +passions are awful." + +David's eyes filled slowly with tears. + +"Oh, you are a cry-baby," said Polly. She knew she was making herself +disagreeable all round. In her heart she admired and even loved David; +but nothing would induce her to say she was sorry for any part she had +taken in Flower's disappearance. + +"Everything is as tiresome as possible," she said, addressing her +special ally, Maggie. "There, Mag, you need not stare at me. Your brain +will get as small as ever again if you don't take care, and I know +staring in that stupid way you have is particularly weakening to the +brain. You had better help George to pack up, for I suppose Nell is +right, and we must all begin to think of getting home. Oh, dear, what a +worry it is to have to put up with the whims of other people. Yes, I +understand at last why father hesitated to allow the strangers to come +here." + +"I wouldn't grumble any more, if I were you, Polly," said Helen. "See +how miserable David looks. I do hope father will soon find Flower. I did +not know that David was so very fond of her." + +"David is nervous," retorted Polly, shortly. Then she turned to and +packed in a vigorous manner, and very soon after the little party +started on their return walk home. It was decidedly a dull walk. Polly's +gay spirits were fitful and forced; the rest of the party did not +attempt to enjoy themselves. David lagged quite behind the others; and +poor Maggie confided to George that somehow or other, she could not tell +why, they were all turning their eyes reproachful-like on her. The sun +had gone in now in the heavens, and the children, who had no sunshine in +their hearts just then, had a vivid consciousness that it was late +autumn, and that the summer was quite at an end. + +As they neared the rise in the moor which hid Sleepy Hollow from view, +David suddenly changed his position from the rear to the van. As they +approached the house he stooped down, picked up a small piece of paper, +looked at it, uttered a cry of fear and recognition, and ran off as fast +as ever he could to the house. + +"What a queer boy David is!" was on Polly's lips; but she could scarcely +say the words before he came out again. His face was deadly white, he +shook all over, and the words he tried to say only trembled on his lips. + +"What is it, David?" said the twins, running up to him. + +"She'll believe me now," said David. + +He panted violently, his teeth chattered. + +"Oh! David, you frighten us! What can be the matter? Polly, come here! +Nell, come and tell us what is the matter with David." + +The elder girls, and the rest of the children, collected in the porch. +Polly, the tallest of all, looked over the heads of the others. She +caught sight of David's face, and a sudden pain, a queer sense of fear, +and the awakening of a late remorse, filled her breast. + +"What is it, David?" she asked, with the others; but her voice shook, +and was scarcely audible. + +"She's done it!" said David. "The baby's gone! It's Flower! She was in +one of her passions, and she has taken the baby away. I said she wasn't +like other girls. Nurse thinks perhaps the baby'll die. What is +it?--oh, Polly! what is it!" For Polly had given one short scream, and, +pushing David and every one aside, rushed wildly into the house. + +She did not hear the others calling after her; she heard nothing but a +surging as of great waves in her ears, and David's words echoing along +the passages and up the stairs "Perhaps the baby will die!" She did not +see her father, who held out his arms to detain her. She pushed Alice +aside without knowing that she touched her. In a twinkling she was at +the nursery door; in a twinkling she was kneeling by the empty cot, and +clasping the little frilled pillow on which baby's head used to rest +passionately to her lips. + +"It's true, then!" she gasped, at last. "I know now what David meant; I +know now why he warned me. Oh Nursie! Nursie! it's my fault!" + +"No, no, my darling!" said Nurse; "it's that dreadful young lady. But +she'll bring her back. Sure, what else could she do, lovey? She'll bring +the little one back, and, by the blessing of the good God, she'll be +none the worse for this. Don't take on so, Miss Polly! Don't look like +that, dear! Why, your looks fairly scare me." + +"I'll be better in a minute," said Polly. "This is no time for feelings. +I'll be quiet in a minute. Have you got any cold water? There's such a +horrid loud noise in my ears." + +She rushed across the room, poured a quantity of water into a basin, and +laved her face and head. + +"Now I can think," she said. "What did Flower do, Nurse? Tell me +everything; tell me in very few words, please, for there isn't a +moment--there isn't half a moment--to lose." + +"It was this way, dear: she came into the room, and took baby into her +arms, and asked for some dinner. She didn't seem no way taken with baby +at first, but when I told her how much you loved our little Miss Pearl, +she asked me to give her to her quite greedy-like, and ordered me to +fetch some dinner for herself, for she was starving, she said. I offered +that Alice should bring it; but no, she was all that I should choose +something as would tempt her appetite, and she coaxed with that pretty +way she have, and I went down to the kitchen myself to please her. I'll +never forgive myself, never, to the longest day I live. I wasn't ten +minutes gone, but when I come back with a nice little tray of curry, and +some custard pie, Miss Flower and the baby were away. That's all--they +hasn't been seen since." + +"How long ago is that, Nurse?" + +"I couldn't rightly tell you, dearie--maybe two hours back. I ran all +round the moor anywhere near, and so did every servant in the house, but +since the Doctor come in they has done the thing properly. Now where are +you going, Miss Polly, love?" + +"To my father. I wish this horrid noise wouldn't go on in my head. Don't +worry me, Nurse. I know it was my fault. I wouldn't listen to the +warning, and I would provoke her, but don't scold me now until I have +done my work." + +Polly rushed downstairs. + +"Where's father?" she asked of Bunny, who was sobbing violently, and +clinging in a frantic manner to Firefly's skirts. + +"I--I don't know. He's out." + +"He's away on the moor," said Fly. "Polly, are you really anxious about +baby Pearl?" + +"I have no time to be anxious," said Polly. "I must find her first. I'll +tell you then if I'm anxious. Where's Nell, where are the twins?" + +"On the moor; they all went out with father." + +"Which moor, the South or Peg-Top?" + +"I think the South moor." + +"All right, I'm going out too. What's the matter, Fly? Oh, you're not to +come." + +"Please, please, it's so horrid in the house, and Bunny does make my +dress so soppy with crying into it." + +"You're not to come. You are to stay here and do your best, your very +best, for father and the others when they come home. If they don't meet +me, say I've gone to look for baby and for Flower. I'll come back when +I've found them. If _they_ find baby and Flower, they might ask to have +the church bells rung, then I'll know. Don't stare at me like that, Fly; +it was my fault, so I must search until I find them." + +Polly ran out of the house and down the lawn. Once again she was out on +the moor. The great solitary commons stretched to right and left; they +were everywhere, they filled the whole horizon, except just where Sleepy +Hollow lay, with its belt of trees, its cultivated gardens, and just +beyond the little village and the church with the square, gray tower. +There was a great lump in Polly's throat, and a mist before her eyes. +The dreadful beating was still going on in her heart, and the surging, +ceaseless waves of sound in her ears. + +Suddenly she fell on her knees. + +"Please, God, give me back little Pearl. Please, God, save little Pearl. +I don't want anything else; I don't even want father to forgive me, if +You will save little Pearl." + +Most earnest prayers bring a sense of comfort, and Polly did not feel +quite so lonely when she stood again on her feet, with the bracken and +the fern all round her. + +She tried hard now to collect her thoughts; she made a valiant effort to +feel calm and reasonable. + +"I can do nothing if I get so excited," she said to herself. "I must +just fight with my anxious spirit. My heart must stay quiet, for my +brain has got to work now. Let me see! where has Flower taken baby? +Father and Nell and the others are all searching the South moor, so I +will go on to Peg-Top. I will walk slowly, and I will look behind every +clump of trees, and I will call Flower's name now and then; for I am +sure, I am quite, quite sure that, however dreadful her passion may have +been, if Flower is the least like me, she will be dreadfully sorry by +now--dreadfully sorry and dreadfully frightened--so if she hears me +calling she will be sure to answer. Oh, dear! oh, dear! here is my heart +speaking again, and my head is in a whirl, and the noises are coming +back into my ears. Oh! how fearfully I hate Flower! How could she, how +could she have taken our darling little baby away? And yet--and yet I +think I'd forgive Flower; I think I'd try to love her; I think I'd even +tell her that I was the one who had done most wrong; I think I'd even go +on my knees and beg Flower's pardon, if only I could hold baby to my +heart again!" + +By this time Polly was crying bitterly. These tears did the poor child +good, relieving the pressure on her brain, and enabling her to think +calmly and coherently. While this tempest of grief, however, effected +these good results, it certainly did not improve her powers of +observation; the fast-flowing tears blinded her eyes, and she stumbled +along, completely forgetting the dangerous and uneven character of the +ground over which she walked. + +It was now growing dusk, and the dim light also added to poor Polly's +dangers. Peg-Top Moor had many tracks leading in all directions. Polly +knew several of these, and where they led, but she had now left all the +beaten paths, and the consequence was that she presently found herself +uttering a sharp and frightened cry, and discovered that she had fallen +down a fairly steep descent. She was slightly stunned by her fall, and +for a moment or two did not attempt to move. Then a dull pain in her +ankle caused her to put her hand to it, and to struggle giddily to a +sitting position. + +"I'll be able to stand in a minute," she said to herself; and she +pressed her hand to her forehead, and struggled bravely against the +surging, waving sounds which had returned to her head. + +"I can't sit here!" she murmured; and she tried to get to her feet. + +In vain!--a sharp agony brought her, trembling and almost fainting, +once more to a sitting posture. What was she to do?--how was she now to +find Flower and the baby? She was alone on the moor, unable to stir. +Perhaps her ankle was broken; certainly, it was sprained very badly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE. + + +When the Maybrights returned home from their disastrous picnic at +Troublous Times Castle, Maggie and George brought up the rear. In +consequence of their being some little way behind the others, Maggie did +not at once know of the fact of Flower's disappearance with the baby. +She was naturally a slow girl; ideas came to her at rare intervals; she +even received startling and terrible news with a certain outward +stolidity and calm. Still, Maggie was not an altogether purposeless and +thoughtless maiden; thoughts occasionally drifted her way; ideas, when +once born in her heart, were slow to die. When affection took root there +it became a very sturdy plant. If there was any one in the world whom +Maggie adored, it was her dear young mistress, Miss Polly Maybright. +Often at night Maggie awoke, and thought, with feelings of almost +worship, of this bright, impulsive young lady. How delightful that week +had been when she and Polly had cooked, and housekeeped, and made cakes +and puddings together! Would any one but Polly have forgiven her for +taking that pound to save her mother's furniture? Would any one in all +the world, except that dear, warm-hearted, impulsive Polly, have +promised to do without a winter jacket in order to return that money to +the housekeeping fund? Maggie felt that, stupid as she knew herself to +be, slow as she undoubtedly was, she could really do great things for +Polly. In Polly's cause her brain could awake, the inertia which more or +less characterized her could depart. For Polly she could undoubtedly +become a brave and active young person. + +She was delighted with herself when she assisted Miss Maybright to +descend from her bedroom window, and to escape with her on to the moor, +but her delight and sense of triumph had not been proof against the +solitude of the sad moor, against the hunger which was only to be +satisfied with berries and spring water, and, above all, against the +terrible apparition of the wife of Micah Jones. What Maggie went, +through in the hermit's hut, what terrors she experienced, were only +known to Maggie's own heart. When, however, Mrs. Ricketts got back her +daughter from that terrible evening's experience, she emphatically +declared that "Mag were worse nor useless; that she seemed daft-like, +and a'most silly, and that never, never to her dying day, would she +allow Mag to set foot on them awful lonely commons again." + +Mrs. Ricketts, however, was not a particularly obstinate character, and +when Polly's bright face peeped round her door, and Polly eagerly, and +almost curtly, demanded that Maggie should that very moment accompany +her on a delightful picnic to Troublous Times Castle, and Maggie +herself, with sparkling eyes and burning cheeks, was all agog to go, and +was now inclined to pooh-pooh the terrors she had endured in the +hermit's hut, there was nothing for Mrs. Ricketts to do but to forget +her vow and send off the two young people with her blessing. + +"Eh, but she's a dear young lady," she said, under her breath, +apostrophizing Miss Maybright. "And Mag do set wonderful store by her, +and no mistake. It ain't every young lady as 'ud think of my Maggie when +she's going out pleasuring; but bless Miss Polly! she seems fairly took +up with my poor gel." + +No face could look more radiant than Maggie's when she started for the +picnic, but, on the other hand, no young person could look more +thoroughly sulky and downcast than she did on her return. Mrs. Ricketts +was just dishing up some potatoes for supper when Maggie flung open the +door of the tiny cottage, walked across the room, and flung herself on a +little settle by the fire. + +"You're hungry, Mag," said Mrs. Ricketts, without looking up. + +"No, I bean't," replied Maggie, shortly. + +"Eh, I suppose you got your fill of good things out with the young +ladies and gentlemen. It ain't your poor mother's way to have a bit of +luck like that, and you never thought, I suppose, of putting a slice or +two of plum cake, or maybe the half of a chicken, in your pocket, as a +bit of a relish for your mother's supper. No, no, that ain't your way, +Mag; you're all for self, and that I will say." + +"No, I ain't mother. You has no call to talk so. How could I hide away +chicken and plum cake, under Miss Polly's nose, so to speak. I was +setting nigh to Miss Polly, mother, jest about the very middle of the +feast. I had a place of honor close up to Miss Polly, mother." + +"Eh, to be sure!" exclaimed Mrs. Ricketts. + +She stopped dishing up the potatoes, wiped her brow, and turned to look +at her daughter, with a slow expression of admiration in her gaze. + +"Eh," she continued, "you has a way about you, Mag, with all your +contrariness. Miss Polly Maybright thinks a sight on you, Mag; seems to +me as if maybe she'd adopt you, and turn you into a real lady. My word, +I have read of such things in story-books." + +"You had better go on dishing up your supper, mother and not be talking +nonsense like that. Miss Polly is a very good young lady, but she hasn't +no thought of folly of that sort. Eh, dear me," continued Maggie, +yawning prodigiously "I'm a bit tired, and no mistake." + +"That's always the way," responded Mrs. Ricketts. "Tired and not a word +to say after your pleasuring; no talking about what happened, and what +Miss Helen wore, and if Miss Firefly has got on her winter worsted +stockings yet, and not a mention of them foreigners as we're all dying +to hear of, and not a word of what victuals you ate, nor nothing. You're +a selfish girl, Maggie Ricketts, and that I will say, though I am your +mother." + +"I'm sleepy," responded Maggie, who seemed by no means put out by this +tirade on the part of her mother. "I'll go up to bed if you don't mind, +mother. No, I said afore as I wasn't hungry." + +She left the room, crept up the step-ladder to the loft, where the +family slept, and opening the tiny dormer window, put her elbows on the +sill and gazed out on the gathering gloom which was settling on the +moor. + +The news of the calamity which had befallen Polly had reached Maggie's +ears. Maggie thought only of Polly in this trouble; it was Polly's baby +who was lost, it was Polly whose heart would be broken. She did not +consider the others in the matter. It was Polly, the Polly whom she so +devotedly loved, who filled her whole horizon. When the news was told +her she scarcely said a word; a heavy, "Eh!--you don't say!" dropped +from her lips. Even George, who was her informer, wondered if she had +really taken in the extent of the catastrophe; then she had turned on +her heel and walked down to her mother's cottage. + +She was not all thoughtless and all indifferent, however. While she +looked so stoical and heavy she was patiently working out an idea, and +was nerving herself for an act of heroism. + +Now as she leant her elbows on the sill by the open window, cold Fear +came and stood by her side. She was awfully frightened, but her resolve +did not falter. She meant to slip away in the dusk and walk across +Peg-Top Moor to the hermit's hut. An instinct, which she did not try +either to explain away or prove, led her to feel sure that she should +find Polly's baby in the hermit's hut. She would herself, unaided and +alone, bring little Pearl back to her sister. + +It would have been quite possible for Maggie to have imparted her ideas +to George, to her mother, or to some of the neighbors. There was not a +person in the village who would not go to the rescue of the Doctor's +child. Maggie might have accompanied a multitude, had she so willed it, +to the hermit's hut. But then the honor and glory would not have been +hers; a little reflection of it might shine upon her, but she would not +bask, as she now hoped to do, in its full rays. + +She determined to go across the lonely moor which she so dreaded alone, +for she alone must bring back Pearl to Polly. + +Shortly before the moon arose, and long after sunset, Maggie crept down +the attic stairs, unlatched the house door, and stepped out into the +quiet village street. Her fear was that some neighbors would see her, +and either insist on accompanying her on her errand, or bring her home. +The village, however, was very quiet that night, and at nine o'clock, +when Maggie started on her search, there were very few people out. + +She came quickly to the top of the small street, crossed a field, +squeezed through a gap in the hedge, and found herself on the borders of +Peg-Top Moor. The moon was bright by this time, and there was no fear of +Maggie not seeing. She stepped over the ground briskly, a solitary +little figure with a long shadow ever stalking before her, and a +beating, defiant heart in her breast. She had quite determined that +whatever agony she went through, her fears should not conquer her; she +would fight them down with a strong hand, she would go forward on her +road, come what might. + +Maggie was an ignorant little cottager, and there were many folk-lore +tales abroad with regard to the moor which might have frightened a +stouter heart than hers. She believed fully in the ghost who was to be +seen when the moon was at the full, pacing slowly up and down, through +that plantation of trees at her right; she had unswerving faith in the +bogey who uttered terrific cries, and terrified the people who were +brave enough to walk at night through Deadman's Glen. But she believed +more fully still in Polly, in Polly's love and despair, and in the +sacredness of the errand which she was now undertaking to deliver her +from her trouble. + +From Mrs. Ricketts' cottage to the hermit's hut there lay a stretch of +moorland covering some miles in extent, and Maggie knew that the lonely +journey she was taking could not come to a speedy end. + +She knew, however, that she had got on the right track and that by +putting one foot up and one foot down, as the children do who want to +reach London town, she also at last would come to her destination. + +The moon shone brightly, and the little maid, her shadow always going +before her, stepped along bravely. + +Now and then that same shadow seemed to assume gigantic and unearthly +proportions, but at other times it wore a friendly aspect, and somewhat +comforted the young traveler. + +"It's more or less part of me," quoth Maggie, "and I must say as I'm +glad I have it, it's better nor nought; but oh ain't the moon fearsome, +and don't my heart a-flutter, and a pit-a-pat! I'm quite sure now, yes, +I'm quite gospel sure that ef I was to meet the wife of Micah Jones, I'd +fall flat down dead at her feet. Oh, how fearsome is this moor! Well, ef +I gets hold of Miss Pearl I'll never set foot an it again. No, not even +for a picnic, and the grandest seat at the feast, and the best of the +victuals." + +The moon shone on, and presently the interminable walk came to a +conclusion. Maggie reached the hermit's hut, listened with painful +intentness for the baying of some angry dogs, pressed her nose against +the one pane of glass in the one tiny window, saw nothing, heard +nothing, finally lifted the latch, and went in. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE HERMIT'S HUT. + + +It was perfectly dark inside the hut, for the little window, through +which the moon might have shone, was well shrouded with a piece of old +rug. It was perfectly dark, and Maggie, although she had stumbled a good +deal in lifting the latch, and having to descend a step without knowing +it, had all but tumbled headlong into the tiny abode, had evoked no +answering sound or stir of any sort. + +She stood still for a moment in the complete darkness to recover breath, +and to consider what she was to do. Strange to say, she did not feel at +all frightened now; the shelter of the four walls gave her confidence. +There were no dogs about, and Maggie felt pretty sure that the wife of +Micah Jones was also absent, for if she were in the hut, and awake, she +would be sure to say, "Who's there?" quoth Maggie, to her own heart; +"and ef she's in the hut, and asleep, why it wouldn't be like her not to +snore." + +The little girl stood still for a full minute; during this time she was +collecting her faculties, and that brain, which Polly was pleased to +call so small, was revolving some practical schemes. + +"Ef I could only lay my hand on a match, now," she thought. + +She suddenly remembered that in her mother's cottage the match-box was +generally placed behind a certain brick near the fireplace; it was a +handy spot, both safe and dry, and Maggie, since her earliest days, had +known that if there was such a luxury as a box of matches in the house, +it would be found in this corner. She wondered if the wife of Micah +Jones could also have adopted so excellent a practice. She stepped +across the little hut, felt with her hands right and left, poked about +all round the open fireplace, and at last, joy of joys, not only +discovered a box with a few matches in it, but an end of candle besides. + +In a moment she had struck a match, had applied it to the candle, and +then, holding the flickering light high, looked around the little hut. + +A girl, crouched up against the wall on some straw, was gazing at her +with wide-open terrified eyes; the girl was perfectly still, not a +muscle in her body moved, only her big frightened eyes gazed fixedly at +Maggie. She wore no hat on her head; her long yellow hair lay in +confusion over her shoulders; her feet were shoeless, and one arm was +laid with a certain air of protection on a wee white bundle on the straw +by her side. + +"Who are you?" said Flower, at last. "Are you a ghost, or are you the +daughter of the dreadful woman who lives in this hut? See! I had a long +sleep. She put me to sleep, I know she did; and while I was asleep she +stole my purse and rings, and my hat and shoes. But that's nothing, +that's nothing at all. While I was asleep, baby here died. I know she's +quite dead, she has not stirred nor moved for hours, at least it seems +like hours. What are you staring at me in that rude way for, girl? I'm +quite sure the baby, Polly's little sister, is dead." + +Nobody could speak in a more utterly apathetic way than Flower. Her +voice neither rose nor fell. She poured out her dreary words in a +wailing monotone. + +"I know that it's my fault," she added; "Polly's little sister has died +because of me." + +She still held her hand over the white bundle. + +"I'm terrified, but not of you," she added; "you may be a ghost, +stealing in here in the dark; or you may be the daughter of that +dreadful woman. But whoever you are, it's all alike to me. I got into +one of my passions. I promised my mother when she died that I'd never +get into another, but I did, I got into one to-day. I was angry with +Polly Maybright; I stole her little sister away, and now she's dead. I +am so terrified at what I have done that I never can be afraid of +anything else. You need not stare so at me, girl; whoever you are I'm +not afraid of you." + +Maggie had now found an old bottle to stick her candle into. + +"I am Miss Polly's little kitchen-maid, Maggie Ricketts," she replied. +"I ain't a ghost, and I haven't nothing to say to the wife of Micah +Jones. As to the baby, let me look at it. You're a very bad young lady, +Miss Flower, but I has come to fetch away the baby, ef you please, so +let me look at it this minute. Oh, my, how my legs do ache; that moor is +heavy walking! Give me the baby, please, Miss Flower. It ain't your +baby, it's Miss Polly's." + +"So, you're Maggie?" said Flower. There was a queer shake in her voice. +"It was about you I was so angry. Yes, you may look at the baby; take it +and look at it, but I don't want to see it, not if it's dead." + +Maggie instantly lifted the little white bundle into her arms, removed a +portion of the shawl, and pressed her cheek against the cheek of the +baby. + +The little white cheek was cold, but not deadly cold, and some faint, +faint breath still came from the slightly parted lips. + +When Maggie had anything to do, no one could be less nervous and more +practical. + +"The baby ain't dead at all," she explained. "She's took with a chill, +and she's very bad, but she ain't dead. Mother has had heaps of babies, +and I know what to do. Little Miss Pearl must have a hot bath this +minute." + +"Oh, Maggie," said Flower. "Oh, Maggie, Maggie!" + +Her frozen indifference, her apathy, had departed. She rose from her +recumbent position, pushed back her hair and stood beside the other +young girl, with eyes that glowed, and yet brimmed over with tears. + +"Oh, what a load you have taken off my heart!" she exclaimed. "Oh, what +a darling you are! Kiss me, Maggie, kiss me, dear, dear Maggie." + +"All right, Miss. You was angry with me afore, and now you're a-hugging +of me, and I don't see no more sense in one than t'other. Ef you'll hold +the baby up warm to you, Miss, and breathe ag'in her cheek werry +gentle-like, you'll be a-doing more good than a-kissing of me. I must +find sticks, and I must light up a fire, and I must do it this minute, +or we won't have no baby to talk about, nor fuss over." + +Maggie's rough and practical words were perhaps the best possible tonic +for Flower at this moment. She had been on the verge of a fit of +hysterics, which might have been as terrible in its consequences as +either her passion or her despair. Now trembling slightly, she sat down +on the little stool which Maggie had pulled forward for her, took the +baby in her arms, and partly opening the shawl which covered it, +breathed on its white face. + +The little one certainly was alive, and when Flower's breath warmed it, +its own breathing became stronger. + +Meanwhile, Maggie bustled about. The hermit's hut, now that she had +something to do in it, seemed no longer at all terrible. After a good +search round she found some sticks, and soon a bright fire blazed and +crackled, and filled the tiny house with light and warmth. A pot of +water was put on the fire to warm, and then Maggie looked round for a +vessel to bathe the baby in. She found a little wooden tub, which she +placed ready in front of the fire. + +"So far, so good!" she exclaimed; "but never a sight of a towel is there +to be seen. Ef you'll give me the baby now, Miss, I'll warm her limbs a +bit afore I put her in the bath. I don't know how I'm to dry her, I'm +sure, but a hot bath she must have." + +"I have got a white petticoat on," said Flower. "Would that be any use?" + +"Off with it this minute, then, Miss; it's better nor nought. Now, then, +my lamb! my pretty! see ef Maggie don't pull you round in a twinkling!" + +She rubbed and chafed the little creature's limbs, and soon baby opened +her eyes, and gave a weak, piteous cry. + +"I wish I had something to give her afore I put her in the bath," said +Maggie. "There's sure to be sperits of some sort in a house like this. +You look round you and see ef you can't find something, Miss Flower." + +Flower obediently searched in the four corners of the hut. + +"I can't see anything!" she exclaimed. "The place seems quite empty." + +"Eh, dear!" said Maggie: "you don't know how to search. Take the baby, +and let me." + +She walked across the cabin, thrust her hand into some straw which was +pressed against the rafters, pulled out an old tin can and opened it. + +"Eh, what's this?" she exclaimed. "Sperits? Now we'll do. Give me the +baby back again, Miss Flower, and fetch a cup, ef you please." + +Flower did so. + +"Put some hot water into it. Why, you ain't very handy! Miss Polly's +worth a dozen of you! Now pour in a little of the sperit from the tin +can--not too much. Let me taste it. That will do. Now, baby--now, Miss +Polly's darling baby!--I'll wet your lips with this, and you'll have +your bath, and you'll do fine!" + +The mixture was rubbed on the blue lips of the infant, and Maggie even +managed to get her to swallow a few drops. Then, the bath being prepared +by Flower, under a shower of scathing ridicule from Maggie, who had very +small respect, in any sense of the word, for her assistant, the baby was +put into it, thoroughly warmed, rubbed up, and comforted, and then, with +the white fleecy shawl wrapped well around her, she fell asleep in +Maggie's arms. + +"She'll do for the present," said the kitchen-maid, leaning back and +mopping a little moisture from her own brow. "She'll do for a time, but +she won't do for long, for she'll want milk and all kinds of comforts. +And I tell you what it is, Miss Flower, that my master and Miss Polly +can't be kept a-fretting for this child until the morning. Some one must +go at once, and tell 'em where she is, and put 'em out of their misery, +and the thing is this: is it you, or is it me, that's to do the job?" + +"But," said Flower--she had scarcely spoken at all until now--"cannot +we both go? Cannot we both walk home, and take the baby with us?" + +"No, Miss, not by no means. Not a breath of night air must touch the +cheeks of this blessed lamb. Either you or me, Miss Flower, must walk +back to Sleepy Hollow, and tell 'em about the baby, and bring back +Nurse, and what's wanted for the child. Will you hold her, Miss? and +shall I trot off at once?--for there ain't a minute to be lost." + +"No," said Flower, "I won't stay in the hut. It is dreadful to me. I +will go and tell the Doctor and Polly." + +"As you please, Miss. Maybe it is best as I should stay with little +Missy. You'll find it awful lonesome out on the moor, Miss Flower, and I +expect when you get near Deadman's Glen as you'll scream out with +terror; there's a bogey there with a head three times as big as his +body, and long arms, twice as long as they ought to be, and he tears up +bits of moss and fern, and flings them at yer, and if any of them, even +the tiniest bit, touches yer, why you're dead before the year is out. +Then there's the walking ghost and the shadowy maid, and the brown lady, +the same color as the bracken when it's withering up, and--and--why, +what's the matter, Miss Flower?" + +"Only I respected you before you talked in that way," said Flower. "I +respected you very much, and I was awfully ashamed of not being able to +eat my dinner with you. But when you talk in such an awfully silly way I +don't respect you, so you had better not go on. Please tell me, as well +as you can, how I'm to get to Sleepy Hollow, and I'll start off at +once." + +"You must beware of the brown lady, all the same." + +"No, I won't beware of her; I'll spring right into her arms." + +"And the bogey in Deadman's Glen. For Heaven's sake, Miss Flower, keep +to the west of Deadman's Glen." + +"If Deadman's Glen is a short cut to Sleepy Hollow, I'll walk through +it. Maggie, do you want Nurse to come for little Pearl, or not? I don't +mind waiting here till morning; it does not greatly matter to me. I was +running away, you know." + +"You must go at once," said Maggie, recalled to common sense by another +glance at the sleeping child. "The baby's but weakly, and there ain't +nothing here as I can give her, except the sperits and water, until +Nurse comes. I'll lay her just for a minute on the straw here, and go +out with you and put you on the track. You follow the track right on +until you see the lights in the village. Sleepy Hollow's right in the +village, and most likely there'll be a light in the Doctor's study +window; be quick, for Heaven's sake, Miss Flower?" + +"Yes, I'm off. Oh, Maggie, Maggie! what do you think? That dreadful +woman has stolen my shoes. I forgot all about it until this minute. What +shall I do? I can't walk far in my stockings." + +"Have my boots, Miss; they're hob-nailed, and shaped after my foot, +which is broad, as it should be, seeing as I'm only a kitchen-maid. But +they're strong, and they are sure to fit you fine." + +"I could put my two feet into one of them," responded Flower, curling +her proud lip once again disdainfully. But then she glanced at the baby, +and a queer shiver passed over her; her eyes grew moist, her hands +trembled. + +"I will put the boots on," she said. And she slipped her little feet, in +their dainty fine silk stockings, into Maggie's shoes. + +"Good-by, Miss; come back as soon as you can," called out the faithful +waiting-maid, and Flower set off across the lonely moor. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +AN OLD SONG. + + +It took a great deal to frighten Polly Maybright; no discipline, no hard +words, no punishments, had ever been able to induce the smallest +sensation of fear in her breast. As to the moor, she had been brought up +on it; she had drank in its air, and felt its kindly breath on her +cheeks from her earliest days. The moors were to Polly like dear, +valued, but somewhat stern, friends. To be alone, even at night, in one +of the small ravines of Peg-Top Moor had little in itself to alarm the +moorland child. + +It took Polly some time to realize that she was absolutely unable to +stir a step. Struggle as she might, she could not put that badly-injured +foot to the ground. Even she, brave and plucky as she was, had not the +nerve to undergo this agony. She could not move, therefore she could do +nothing at present to recover little Pearl. This was really the thought +which distressed her. As to sleeping with her head pressed against the +friendly bracken, or staying on Peg-Top Moor all night, these were small +considerations. But not to be able to stir a step to find the baby, to +feel that Flower was carrying the baby farther and farther away, and +that Polly's chance of ever seeing her again was growing less and less, +became at last a thought of such agony that the poor little girl could +scarcely keep from screaming aloud. + +"And it was all my fault!" she moaned. "I forgot what father said about +climbing the highest mountain. When David came to me, and told me that +Flower was subject to those awful passions, I forgot all about my +mountain-climbing. I did not recognize that I had come to a dangerous +bit, so that I wanted the ropes of prayer and the memory of mother to +pull me over it. No, I did nothing but rejoice in the knowledge that I +didn't much like Flower, and that I was very, very glad to tease her. +Now I am punished. Oh, oh, what shall I do? Oh, if baby is lost! If baby +dies, I shall die too! Oh, I think I'm the most miserable girl in all +the world! What shall I do? Why did mother go away? Why did Flower come +here? Why did I want her to come? I made a mess of the housekeeping, and +now I have made a mess of the visit of the strangers. Oh, I'm the sort +of girl who oughtn't to go a step alone!--I really, really am! I think +I'm the very weakest sort of girl in all the world!" + +Polly sobbed and sobbed. It was not her custom to give way thus utterly, +but she was in severe pain of body, and she had got a great shock when +the loss of little Pearl had been announced by David. + +"What shall I do?" she moaned and sobbed. "Oh, I'm the sort of girl who +oughtn't to go a step alone." + +While she cried all by herself on the moor, and the friendly stars +looked down at her, and the moon came out and shone on her poor forsaken +little figure, an old verse she used to say in her early childhood +returned to her memory. It was the verse of a hymn--a hymn her mother +was fond of, and used often to sing, particularly about the time of the +New Year, to the children. + +Mrs. Maybright had a beautiful voice, and on Sunday evenings she sang +many hymns, with wonderful pathos and feeling, to her children. Polly, +who cared for music on her own account, had loved to listen. At these +times she always looked hungrily into her mother's face, and a longing +and a desire for the best things of all awoke in her breast. It was at +such times as these that she made resolves, and thought of climbing high +and being better than others. + +Since her mother's death, Polly could not bear to listen to hymns. In +church she had tried to shut her ears; her lips were closed tight, and +she diligently read to herself some other part of the service. For her +mother's sake, the hymns, with that one beautiful voice silent, were +torture to her; but Polly was a very proud girl, and no one, not even +her father, who now came nearest to her in all the world, guessed what +she suffered. + +Now, lying on the moor, her mother's favorite hymn seemed to float down +from the stars to her ears: + + "I know not the way I am going, + But well do I know my Guide; + With a trusting faith I give my hand + To the loving Friend at my side." + + "The only thing that I say to Him + As He takes it is, 'Hold it fast! + Suffer me not to lose my way, + And bring me home at last!'" + +It did not seem at all to Polly that she was repeating these words +herself; rather they seemed to be said to her gently, slowly, +distinctly, by a well-loved and familiar voice. + +It was true, then, there was a Guide, and those who were afraid to go +alone could hold a Hand which would never lead them astray. + +Her bitter sobs came more quietly as she thought of this. Gradually her +eyes closed, and she fell asleep. + +When Flower started across the moor it was quite true that she was not +in the least afraid. A great terror had come to her that night; during +those awful minutes when she feared the baby was dead, the terror of the +deed she had done had almost stunned her; but when Maggie came and +relieved her of her worst agony, a good deal of her old manner and a +considerable amount of her old haughty, defiant spirit had returned. + +Flower was more or less uncivilized; there was a good deal of the wild +and of the untamed about her; and now that the baby was alive, and +likely to do well, overwhelming contrition for the deed she had done no +longer oppressed her. + +She stepped along as quickly as her uncomfortable boots would admit. The +moonlight fell full on her slender figure, and cast a cold radiance over +her uncovered head. Her long, yellow hair floated down over her +shoulders; she looked wonderfully ethereal, almost unearthly, and had +any of the villagers been abroad, they might well have taken her for one +of the ghosts of the moor. + +Flower had a natural instinct for finding her way, and, aided by +Maggie's directions, she steered in a straight course for the village. +Not a soul was abroad; she was alone, in a great solitude. + +The feeling gave her a certain sense of exhilaration. From the depths of +her despair her easily influenced spirits sprang again to hope and +confidence. After all, nothing very dreadful had happened. She must +struggle not to give way to intemperate feelings. She must bear with +Polly! she must put up with Maggie. It was all very trying, of course, +but it was the English way. She walked along faster and faster, and now +her lips rose in a light song, and now again she ran, eager to get over +the ground. When she ran her light hair floated behind her, and she +looked less and less like a living creature. + +Polly had slept for nearly two hours. She awoke to hear a voice singing, +not the sweet, touching, high notes which had seemed to fall from the +stars to comfort her, but a wild song: + + "Oh, who will up and follow me? + Oh, who will with me ride? + Oh, who will up and follow me + To win a bonny bride?" + +For a moment Polly's heart stood still; then she started forward with a +glad and joyful cry. + +"It is Flower! Flower coming back again with little Pearl!" she said, in +a voice of rapture. "That is Flower's song and Flower's voice, and she +wouldn't sing so gayly if baby was not quite, quite well, and if she was +not bringing her home." + +Polly rose, as well as she could, to a sitting posture, and shouted out +in return: + +"Here I am, Flower. Come to me. Bring me baby at once." + +Even Flower, who in many respects had nerves of iron, was startled by +this sudden apparition among the bracken. For a brief instant she +pressed her hand to her heart. Were Maggie's tales true? Were there +really queer and unnatural creatures to be found on the moor? + +"Come here, Flower, here! I have sprained my ankle. What are you afraid +of?" shouted Polly again. Then Flower sprang to her side, knelt down by +her, and took her cold hand in hers. Flower's slight fingers were warm; +she was glowing all over with life and exercise. + +"Where's baby?" said Polly, a sickly fear stealing over her again when +she saw that the queer girl was alone. + +"Baby? She's in the hermit's hut with Maggie. Don't scold me, Polly. I'm +very sorry I got into a passion." + +Polly pushed Flower's fingers a little away. + +"I don't want to be angry," she said. "I've been asking God to keep me +from being angry. I did wrong myself, I did very wrong, only you did +worse; you did worse than I did, Flower." + +"I don't see that at all. At any rate, I have said I am sorry. No one is +expected to beg pardon twice. How is it you are out here, lying on the +moor, Polly? Are you mad?" + +"No. I came out to look for baby, and for you." + +"But why are you here? You could not find us in that lazy fashion." + +"Look at my foot; the moonlight shines on it. See, it is twisted all +round. I fell from a height and hurt myself. I have been lying here for +hours." + +"Poor Polly! I am really sorry. I once strained my foot like that. The +pain was very bad--very, very bad. Mother kept my foot on her knee all +night; she bathed it all night long; in the morning it was better." + +"Please, Flower, don't mind about my foot now. Tell me about baby. Is +she ill? Have you injured her?" + +"I don't know. I suppose I did wrong to take her out like that. I said +before, I was sorry. I was frightened about her, awfully frightened, +until Maggie came in. I was really afraid baby was dead. I don't want to +speak of it. It wasn't true. Don't look at me like that. Maggie came, +and said that little Pearl lived. I was so relieved that I kissed +Maggie, yes, actually, although she is only a kitchen-maid. Maggie got a +warm bath ready, and put baby in, and when I left the hut she was sound +asleep. Maggie knew exactly what to do for her. Fancy my kissing her, +although she is only a kitchen-maid!" + +"She is the dearest girl in the world!" said Polly. "I think she is +noble. Think of her going to the hermit's hut, and finding baby, and +saving baby's life. Oh, she is the noblest girl in the world, miles and +miles above you and me!" + +"You can speak for yourself. I said she behaved very well. It is +unnecessary to compare her to people in a different rank of life. Now, +do you think you can lean on me, and so get back to Sleepy Hollow?" + +"No, Flower. I cannot possibly stir. Look at my foot; it is twisted the +wrong way." + +"Then I must leave you, for Maggie has sent me in a great hurry to get +milk, and comforts of all sorts, for baby." + +"Please don't stay an instant. Run, Flower. Why did you stay talking so +long? If father is in the house, you can tell him, and he will come, I +know, and carry me home. But, oh! get everything that is wanted for baby +first of all. I am not of the smallest consequence compared to baby. Do +run, Flower; do be quick. It frets me so awfully to see you lingering +here when baby wants her comforts." + +"I shan't be long," said Flower. She gathered up her skirts, and sped +down the path, and Polly gave a sigh of real relief. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +LOOKING AT HERSELF. + + +That night, which was long remembered in the annals of the Maybright +family as one of the dreariest and most terrible they had ever passed +through, came to an end at last. With the early dawn Polly was brought +home, and about the same time Nurse and Maggie reappeared with baby on +the scene. + +Flower, after she had briefly told her tidings, went straight up to her +own room, where she locked the door, and remained deaf to all entreaties +on David's part that he might come in and console her. + +"She's always dreadful after she has had a real bad passion," he +explained to Fly, who was following him about like a little ghost. "I +wish she would let me in. She spends herself so when she is in a passion +that she is quite weak afterwards. She ought to have a cup of tea; I +know she ought." + +But it was in vain that David knocked, and that little Fly herself, even +though she felt that she hated Flower, brought the tea. There was no +sound at the other side of the locked door, and after a time the anxious +watchers went away. + +At that moment, however, had anybody been outside, they might have seen +pressed against the window-pane in that same room a pale but eager face. +Had they looked, too, they might have wondered at the hard lines round +the young, finely-cut lips, and yet the eager, pleading watching in the +eyes. + +There was a stir in the distance--the far-off sound of wheels. Flower +started to her feet, slipped the bolt of her door, ran downstairs, and +was off and away to meet the covered carriage which was bringing baby +home. + +She called to George, who was driving it, to stop. She got in, and +seated herself beside Nurse and baby. + +"How is she? Will she live?" she asked, her voice trembling. + +"God grant it!" replied the Nurse. "What are you doing, Miss Flower? No, +you shan't touch her." + +"I must! Give her to me this moment. There is Dr. Maybright. Give me +baby this moment. I must, I _will_, have her!" + +She almost snatched the little creature out of Nurse's astonished arms, +and as the carriage drew up at the entrance steps sprang out, and put +the baby into Dr. Maybright's arms. + +"There!" she said; "I took her away, but I give her back. I was in a +passion and angry when I took her away; now I repent, and am sorry, and +I give her back to you? Don't you see, I can't do more than give her +back to you? That is our way out in Victoria. Don't you slow English +people understand? I was angry; now I am sorry. Why do you all stand +round and stare at me like that? Can anybody be more than sorry, or do +more than give back what they took?" + +"It is sometimes impossible to give back what we took away, Flower," +replied the Doctor, very gravely. + +He was standing in the midst of his children; his face was white; his +eyes had a strained look in them; the strong hands with which he clasped +little Pearl trembled. He did not look again at Flower, who shrank away +as if she had received a blow, and crept upstairs. + +For the rest of the day she was lost sight of; there was a great deal of +commotion and excitement. Polly, when she was brought home, was +sufficiently ill and suffering to require the presence of a doctor; +little Pearl showed symptoms of cold, and for her, too, a physician +prescribed. + +Why not Dr. Maybright? The children were not accustomed to strange faces +and unfamiliar voices when they were ill or in pain. Polly had a curious +feeling when the new doctor came to see her; he prescribed and went +away. Polly wondered if the world was coming to an end; she was in +greater pain than she had ever endured in her life, and yet she felt +quiet and peaceful. Had she gone up a step or two of the mountain she so +longed to climb? Did she hear the words of her mother's favorite song, +and was a Guide--_the_ Guide--holding her childish hand? + +The hour of the long day passed somehow. + +If there was calm in Polly's room, and despair more or less in poor +Flower's, the rest of the house was kept in a state of constant +excitement. The same doctor came back again; doors were shut and opened +quickly; people whispered in the corridors. As the hours flew on, no one +thought of Flower in her enforced captivity, and even Polly, but for +Maggie's ceaseless devotion, might have fared badly. + +All day Flower Dalrymple remained in her room. She was forgotten at +meal-times. Had David been at home, this would not have been the case; +but Helen had sent David and her own little brothers to spend the day at +Mrs. Jones's farm. Even the wildest spirits can be tamed and brought to +submission by the wonderful power of hunger, and so it came to pass that +in the evening a disheveled-looking girl opened the door of her pretty +room over the porch, and slipped along the passages and downstairs. +Flower went straight to the dining-room; she intended to provide herself +with bread and any other food she could find, then to return to her +solitary musings. She thought herself extremely neglected, and the +repentance and sense of shame which she had more or less experienced in +the morning and the memory of Dr. Maybright's words and the look in has +grave eyes had faded under a feeling of being unloved, forsaken, +forgotten. Even David had never come near her--David, who lived for +her. Was she not his queen as well as sister? Was he not her dutiful +subject as well as her little brother? + +All the long day that Flower had spent in solitude her thoughts grew +more and more bitter, and only hunger made her now forsake her room. She +went into the dining-room; it was a long, low room, almost entirely +lined with oak. There was a white cloth on the long center table, in the +middle of which a lamp burnt dimly; the French windows were open; the +blinds were not drawn down. As Flower opened the door, a strong cold +breeze caused the lamp to flare up and smoke, the curtains to shake, and +a child to move in a restless, fretful fashion on her chair. The child +was Firefly; her eyes were so swollen with crying that they were almost +invisible under their heavy red lids; her hair was tossed; the rest of +her little thin face was ghastly pale. + +"Is that you, Flower?" she exclaimed. "Are you going to stay here? If +you are, I'll go away." + +"What do you mean?" said Flower. "_You_ go away? You can go or stay, +just as you please. I have come here because I want some food, and +because I've been shamefully neglected and starved all day. Ring the +bell, please, Fly. I really must order up something to eat." + +Fly rose from her chair. She had long, lanky legs and very short +petticoats, and as she stood half leaning against the wall, she looked +so forlorn, pathetic, and yet comical, that Flower, notwithstanding her +own anger and distress, could not help bursting out laughing. + +"What is the matter?" she said. "What an extraordinary little being you +are! You look at me as if you were quite afraid of me. For pity's sake, +child, don't stare at me in that grewsome fashion. Ring the bell, as I +tell you, and then if you please you can leave the room." + +There was a very deep leather arm-chair near the fireplace. Into this +now Flower sank. She leant her head comfortably against its cushions, +and gazed at Firefly with a slightly sarcastic expression. + +"Then you don't know!" said Fly, suddenly. "You sit there and look at +me, and you talk of eating, as if any one could eat. You don't know. You +wouldn't sit there like that if you really knew." + +"I think you are the stupidest little creature I ever met!" responded +Flower. "I'm to know something, and it's wonderful that I care to eat. I +tell you, child, I haven't touched food all day, and I'm starving. +What's the matter? Speak! I'll slap you if you don't." + +"There's bread on the sideboard," said Fly. "I'm sorry you're starving. +It's only that father is ill; that--that he's very ill. I don't suppose +it is anything to you, or you wouldn't have done it." + +"Give me that bread," said Flower. She turned very white, snatched a +piece out of Fly's hand, and put it to her lips. She did not swallow it, +however. A lump seemed to rise in her throat. + +"I'm faint for want of food," she said in a minute. "I'd like some wine. +If David was here, he'd give it to me. What's that about your father? +Ill? He was quite well this morning; he spoke to me." + +She shivered. + +"I'm awfully faint," she said in a moment. "Please, Fly, be merciful. +Give me half a glass of sherry." + +Fly started, rushed to the sideboard, poured a little wine into a glass, +and brought it to Flower. + +"There!" she said in a cold though broken-hearted voice. "But you +needn't faint; he's not your father; you wouldn't have done it if he was +your father." + +Flower tossed off the wine. + +"I'm better now," she said. + +Then she rose from the deep arm-chair, stood up, and put her two hands +on Fly's shoulder. + +"What have I done? What do you accuse me of?" + +"Don't! You hurt me, Flower; your hands are so hard." + +"I'll take them off. What have I done?" + +"We are awfully sorry you came here. We all are; we all are." + +"Yes? you can be sorry or glad, just as you please! What have I done?" + +"You have made father, our own father--you have made him ill. The +doctor thinks perhaps he'll die, and in any case he will be blind." + +"What horrid things you say, child! _I_ haven't done this." + +"Yes. Father was out all last night. You took baby away, and he went to +look for her, and he wasn't well before, and he got a chill. It was a +bad chill, and he has been ill all day. You did it, but he wasn't your +father. We are all so dreadfully sorry that you came here." + +Flower's hands dropped to her sides. Her eyes curiously dilated, looked +past Fly, gazing so intently at something which her imagination conjured +up that the child glanced in a frightened way over her shoulder. + +"What's the matter, Flower? What are you looking at?" + +"Myself." + +"But you can't see yourself." + +"I can. Never mind. Is this true what you have been telling me?" + +"Yes, it's quite true. I wish it was a dream, and I might wake up out of +it." + +"And you all put this thing at my door?" + +"Yes, of course. Dr. Strong said--Dr. Strong has been here twice this +evening--he said it was because of last night." + +"_Sometimes we can never give back what we take away._" These few words +came back to Flower now. + +"And you all hate me?" she said, after a pause. + +"We don't love you, Flower; how could we?" + +"You hate me?" + +"I don't know. Father wouldn't like us to hate anybody." + +"Where's Helen?" + +"She's in father's room." + +"And Polly?" + +"Polly is in bed. She's ill, too, but not in danger, like father. The +doctor says that Polly is not to know about father for at any rate a +day, so please be careful not to mention this to her, Flower." + +"No fear!" + +"Polly is suffering a good deal, but she's not unhappy, for she doesn't +know about father." + +"Is baby very ill, too?" + +"No. Nurse says that baby has escaped quite wonderfully. She was +laughing when I saw her last. She has only a little cold." + +"I am glad that I gave her to your father myself," said Flower, in a +queer, still voice. "I'm glad of that. Is David anywhere about?" + +"No. He's at the farm. He's to sleep there to-night with Bob and Bunny, +for there mustn't be a stir of noise in the house." + +"Well, well, I'd have liked to say good-by to David. You're quite sure, +Fly, that you all think it was _I_ made your father ill?" + +"Why, of course. You know it was." + +"Yes, I know. Good-by, Fly." + +"Good-night, you mean. Don't you want something to eat?" + +"No. I'm not hungry now. It isn't good-night; it's good-by." + +Flower walked slowly down the long, low, dark room, opened the door, +shut it after her, and disappeared. + +Fly stood for a moment in an indifferent attitude at the table. She was +relieved that Flower had at last left her, and took no notice of her +words. + +Flower went back to her room. Again she shut and locked her door. The +queer mood which had been on her all day, half repentance, half +petulance, had completely changed. It takes a great deal to make some +people repent, but Flower Dalrymple was now indeed and in truth facing +the consequences of her own actions. The words she had said to Fly were +quite true. She had looked at herself. Sometimes that sight is very +terrible. Her fingers trembled, her whole body shook, but she did not +take a moment to make up her mind. They all hated her, but not more than +she hated herself. They were quite right to hate her, quite right to +feel horror at her presence. Her mother had often spoken to her of the +consequences of unbridled passion, but no words that her mother could +ever have used came up to the grim reality. Of course, she must go away, +and at once. She sat down on the side of her bed, pressed her hand to +her forehead, and reflected. In the starved state she was in, the little +drop of wine she had taken had brought on a violent headache. For a time +she found it difficult to collect her thoughts. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE WORTH OF A DIAMOND. + + +Flower quite made up her mind to go away again. Her mood, however, had +completely changed. She was no longer in a passion; on the contrary, she +felt stricken and wounded. She would go away now to hide herself, +because her face, her form, the sound of her step, the echo of her +voice, must be painful to those whom she had injured. She shuddered as +she recalled Firefly's sad words: + +"Father says it is wrong to hate any one, but, of course, we cannot love +you." + +She felt that she could never look Polly in the face again, that Helen's +gentle smile would be torture to her. Oh, of course she must go away; +she must go to-night. + +She was very tired, for she had really scarcely rested since her fit of +mad passion, and the previous night she had never gone to bed. Still all +this mattered nothing. There was a beating in her heart, there was a +burning sting of remorse awakened within her, which made even the +thought of rest impossible. + +Flower was a very wild and untaught creature; her ideas of right and +wrong were of the crudest. It seemed to her now that the only right +thing was to run away. + +When the house was quiet, she once more opened her little cabinet, and +took from thence the last great treasure which it contained. It was one +solitary splendid unset diamond. She had not the least idea of its +value, but she knew that it would probably fetch a pound or two. She had +not the least notion of the value of money or of the preciousness of the +gem which she held in her hand, but she thought it likely that it would +supply her immediate needs. + +The house was quite still now. She took off her green cloth dress, put +on a very plain one of black cashmere, slipped a little velvet cap on +her head, wrapped a long white shawl round her, and thus equipped opened +her door, and went downstairs. + +She was startled at the foot of the stairs to encounter Maggie. Maggie +was coming slowly upwards as Flower descended, and the two girls paused +to look at one another. The lamps in the passages were turned low, and +Maggie held a candle above her head; its light fell full on Flower. + +"You mustn't go to Miss Polly on no account, Miss Flower," said Maggie, +adopting the somewhat peremptory manner she had already used to Flower +in the hermit's hut. "Miss Polly is not to be frightened or put out in +any way, leastways not to-night." + +"You mean that you think I would tell her about Dr. Maybright?" + +"Perhaps you would, Miss; you're none too sensible." + +Flower was too crushed even to reply to this uncomplimentary speech. +After a pause, she said: + +"I'm not going to Polly. I'm going away. Maggie, is it true that +the--that Dr. Maybright is very ill?" + +"Yes, Miss, the Doctor's despert bad." + +Maggie's face worked; her candle shook; she put up her other hand to +wipe away the fast-flowing tears. + +"Oh, don't cry!" said Flower, stamping her foot impatiently. "Tears do +no good, and it wasn't you who did it." + +"No, Miss, no, Miss; that's a bit of a comfort. I wouldn't be you, Miss +Flower, for all the wide world. Well, I must go now; I'm a-sleeping in +Miss Polly's room to-night, Miss." + +"Why, is Polly ill, too?" + +"Only her foot's bad. I mustn't stay, really, Miss Flower." + +"Look here," said Flower, struck by a sudden thought, "before you go +tell me something. Your mother lives in the village, does she not?" + +"Why, yes, Miss, just in the main street, down round by the corner. +There's the baker's shop and the butcher's, and you turn round a sharp +corner, and mother's cottage is by your side." + +"I've a fancy to go and see her. Good-night." + +"But not at this hour, surely, Miss?" + +"Why not? I was out later last night." + +"That's true. Well, I must go to Miss Polly now. Don't you make any +noise when you're coming in, Miss! Oh, my word!" continued Maggie to +herself, "what can Miss Flower want with mother? Well, she is a +contrairy young lady mischievous, and all that, and hasn't she wrought a +sight of harm in this yer house! But, for all that, mother'll be mighty +took up with her, for she's all for romance, mother is, and Miss +Flower's very uncommon. Well, it ain't nought to do with me, and I'll +take care to tell no tales to Miss Polly, poor dear." + +The night was still and calm; the stars shone peacefully; the wind, +which had come in gusts earlier in the evening, had died down. It took +Flower a very few minutes to reach the village, and she wasn't long in +discovering Mrs. Ricketts' humble abode. + +That good woman had long retired to rest, but Flower's peremptory +summons on the door soon caused a night-capped head to protrude out of a +window, a burst of astonishment to issue from a wonder-struck pair of +lips, and a moment later the young lady was standing by Mrs. Ricketts' +fireside. + +"I'm proud to see you, Miss, and that I will say. Set down, Miss, do +now, and I'll light up the fire in a twinkling." + +"No, you needn't," said Flower. "I'm hot; I'm burning. Feel me; a fire +would drive me wild." + +"To be sure, so you are, all in a fever like," said Mrs. Ricketts, +laying her rough hand for a moment on Flower's dainty arm. "You'll let +me light up the bit of a paraffin lamp, then, Miss, for it ain't often +as I have the chance of seeing a young lady come all the way from +Australy." + +"You can light the lamp, if you like," said Flower. "And you can stare at +me as much as you please. I'm just like any one else, only wickeder. +I've come to you, Mrs. Ricketts, because you're Maggie's mother, and +Maggie's a good girl, and I thought perhaps you would help me." + +"I'm obligated for the words of praise about my daughter, Miss. Yes, she +don't mean bad, Maggie don't. What can I do to help you, Miss? Anything +in my power you are kindly welcome to." + +"Have you ever seen a diamond, Mrs. Ricketts?" + +"I don't know, I'm sure, Miss." + +"Diamonds are very valuable stones, you know." + +"Maybe, Miss. They ain't in my way. I wish you'd let me light you a bit +of fire, Miss Flower. You'll have the chills presently, Miss, for you're +all of a burning fever now." + +"You can do anything you like in the way of fire by-and-by. I have a +diamond here. Shall I show it to you?" + +"Oh, law, Miss, I'm sure you are condescending." + +"Come over close to the paraffin lamp. Now you shall see. Doesn't it +sparkle!" + +Mrs. Ricketts dropped a curtsey to the gem, which, unpolished as it was, +cast forth strange reflections, giving her, as she afterwards explained, +a "queer feel" and a sense of chill down the marrow of her back. + +"This is very valuable," said Flower. "I don't know what it is worth, +but my father gave it to my mother, and she gave it to me. She said it +would be well for me to have it in case of emergency. Emergency has +come, and I want to sell this stone. It is very likely that whoever buys +it from me will become rich. Would you like it? You shall have it for +what money you have in the house." + +"Oh, law, Miss! but I'm a very poor woman, Miss." + +Mrs. Ricketts curtseyed again, and drew closer. "For all the world, it +looks as if it were alive, Miss." + +"All valuable diamonds look as if they lived. If this were cut and +polished it would dazzle you." + +"And if I had it, I could sell it for a good bit of money?" + +"I am sure you could. I don't know for how much, but for more than I am +likely to get from you." + +"I'd like to pay Miss Polly back that pound as Maggie took from her." + +"Don't worry me about your debts. Will you have this beautiful uncut +diamond for the money you have in the house?" + +Mrs. Ricketts did not reply for a moment. + +"I have nine shillings and fourpence-halfpenny," she said at last, "and +to-morrow is rent day. Rent will be eight shillings; that leaves me +one-and-fourpence-half penny for food. Ef I give you all my money, Miss, +how am I to pay rent? And how are the children to have food to-morrow?" + +"But you can sell the diamond. Why are you so dreadfully stupid? You can +sell the diamond for one, two, or perhaps three pounds. Then how rich +you will be." + +"Oh, Miss! there's no one in this yer village 'ud give away good money +for a bit of a stone like that; they'd know better. My word! it do send +out a sort of a flame, though; it's wondrous to look upon!" + +"People will buy it from you in a town. Go to the nearest town, take it +to a jeweler, and see how rich you will be when you come out of his +shop. There, I will give it to you for your nine-and-fourpence-half +penny." + +Flower laid the diamond in the woman's hand. + +"It seems to burn me like," she said. But all the same her fingers +closed over it, and a look of greed and satisfaction filled her face. + +"I don't know if I'm a-doin' right," she said, "for perhaps this ain't +worth sixpence, and then where's the rent and the food? But, all the +same, I don't like to say no to a pretty lady when she's in trouble. Here's +the nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny, Miss. I earned it bit by bit by washing +the neighbors' clothes; it wasn't easy come by; there's labor in it, and +aches and dead-tiredness about it. You take it, Miss. I only trust the +diamond will repay what I loses on that nine-and-fourpence-half penny." + +Flower handled the money as if she thought it dirty. + +Without a word she slipped it into the pocket of her dress. + +"I am going away," she said. "They are angry with me at Sleepy Hollow. I +have done wrong. I am not a bit surprised. I'm going away, so as not to +cause them any more trouble." + +"Oh, law, now, Miss! but they'll fret to part with you." + +"No they won't. Anyhow, it isn't your affair. I'm going away as soon as +I possibly can. Can you tell me where the nearest railway station is?" + +"There's none closer than Everton, and that's a matter of five mile from +here." + +"I must get there as quickly as possible. What road shall I take?" + +"Do you think, Miss, I'd let a pretty young lady like you trape the +lanes in the dead of night? No, no; carrier goes between two and three +in the morning. You might go with him, if you must go." + +"That is a good thought. Where does the carrier live?" + +"Three doors from here. I'll run round presently and tell him to call." + +"Thank you. Do you think nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny will take me to +Bath?" + +"To Bath, Miss? It might, if you condescended to third class." + +"Third class will do very well. Did you ever hear Polly Maybright speak +of an aunt of hers, a Mrs. Cameron?" + +Mrs. Ricketts, whose back was half turned to Flower while she shut +and locked the box out of which she had taken the precious +nine-and-fourpence-halfpenny, now sprang to her feet, and began to speak +in a tone of great excitement. + +"Did I hear of her?" she exclaimed. "Did I hear of the woman--for lady +she ain't--what turned my Maggie out of her good place, and near broke +Miss Polly's heart? Don't mention Mrs. Cameron, please, Miss Flower, for +talk of her I won't; set eyes on her I wouldn't, no, not if I was to +receive a pound for it!" + +"You needn't get so excited," said Flower; "you have not got to see +Polly's aunt; only I thought perhaps you could give me her address, for +I am going to her to-morrow." + +"I wouldn't, Miss, if I was you." + +"Yes, you would if you were me. What is Mrs. Cameron's address?" + +"I don't know as I can rightly tell you, Miss." + +"Yes, you must. I see you know it quite well." + +"Well then, well then--you won't like her a bit, Miss Flower." + +"What's her address?" + +"Jasper Street; I think it's Jasper Street." + +"And the number? She doesn't live in the whole of Jasper Street." + +"Now, was it a one and a six or a one and a seven?" queried Mrs. +Ricketts. "Oh, Miss! if I was you, I wouldn't go near her; but I think +her number is a one and a seven." + +"Seventeen, you mean." + +"Yes, that's it; I was never great at counting." + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +RELICS AND A WELCOME. + + +Mrs. Cameron's house in Bath was decidedly old-fashioned. It was a +large, solemn, handsome mansion; its windows shone from constant +cleaning; its paint was always fresh, its Venetian blinds in perfect +order. + +When a certain wild, untidy, almost disreputable-looking girl ran up its +snow-white steps, and rang its highly polished brass bell, the neat +parlor maid who answered her summons stared at her, and doubted a good +deal if Mrs. Cameron could see her. + +"You had better step into the hall for a moment," said the maidservant, +"and I'll inquire if my missis is at leisure; but if it's the new +housemaid's place you've come after----" + +Flower gasped; she drew herself up, raised her hand, and took off her +small black velvet cap. + +"You forget yourself!" she said, with a haughtiness which did not ill +become her, notwithstanding her untidy and dishevelled state. "My name +is Flower Dalrymple, and I have come from Sleepy Hollow. Please let your +mistress know directly." + +The parlor maid, who saw her mistake, was profuse in apologies. + +She showed Flower into a dismal-looking dining room, and went upstairs. + +"Who is it, Ann?" asked an anxious voice as she prepared to ascend the +richly-carpeted stairs. + +A door was opened at the end of the passage, and a fusty, dusty-looking +little man put in an appearance. + +"Who is it, Ann? Any one for me?" + +"A young lady as wants to see the missis, sir. Oh, Mr. Cameron! what a +deal of dust you has brought out into the 'all!" + +The little man looked meekly down at his dusty garments. + +"I have just been unpacking my last crate of curiosities from China, +Ann. Where is the young lady? Perhaps she would like to see the relics." + +"No, sir, that I'm sure she wouldn't; she's all blown and spent like. +She's for all the world like a relic herself." + +Ann tripped lightly upstairs, and Mr. Cameron, pushing his spectacles +high up on his bald forehead, looked with an anxious glance to right and +left. Then very quickly on tiptoe he crossed the hall, opened the +dining-room door, and went in. + +"How are you, young lady? If you are very quick, I can get you into my +sanctum sanctorum. I am just unpacking Chinese relics. I trust, I hope, +you are fond of relics." + +Flower started to her feet. + +"I thought, I certainly thought, Polly said _Mrs._ Cameron," she +remarked. "I don't think I shall be at all afraid to live with you. I +don't exactly know what Chinese relics are, but I should love to see +them." + +"Then quick, my dear, quick! We haven't a minute to spare. She's sure to +be down in a jiffy. Now then, step on tiptoe across the hall. Ann has +the quickest ears, and she invariably reports. She's not a nice girl, +Ann isn't. She hasn't the smallest taste for relics. My dear, there's an +education in this room, but no one, no one who comes to the house, cares +to receive it." + +While the little man was talking, he was rushing across the wide hall, +and down a long passage, Flower's hand clasped in his. Finally he pushed +open a baize-lined door, hastily admitted himself and Flower, and closed +it behind them. The sanctum sanctorum was small, stuffy, dusty, dirty. +There were several chairs, but they were all piled with relics, two or +three tables were also crammed with tokens of the past. Flower was very +weary, the dust and dirt made her sneeze, and she looked longingly for +even the smallest corner of a chair on which to seat herself. + +"I do want some breakfast so badly," she began. + +"Breakfast! My love, you shall have it presently. Now then, we'll begin. +This case that I have just unpacked contains teeth and a small portion +of a jawbone. Ah! hark! what is that? She is coming already! Will that +woman never leave me in peace? My love, the object of my life, the one +object of my whole life, has been to benefit and educate the young. I +thought at last I had found a pupil, but, ah, I fear she is very angry!" + +The sound of a sharp voice was heard echoing down the stairs and along +the passage, a sharp, high-pitched voice, accompanied by the sharper, +shriller barking of a small dog. + +"Zeb! I say, Zeb! Zebedee, if you have taken that young girl into your +sanctum, I desire you to send her out this moment." + +The little man's face grew pale; he pushed his spectacles still higher +on his forehead. + +"There, my love, do you hear her? I did my best for you. I was beginning +your education." + +"Zeb! Zeb! Open the door this minute," was shouted outside. + +"You'll remember, my love, to your dying day, that I showed you three +teeth and the bit of jawbone of a Chinaman who died a thousand years +ago." + +"Zeb!" thundered the voice. + +"Yap! yap! yap!" barked the small dog. + +"You must go, my dear. She's a powerful woman. She always has her way. +There, let me push you out. I wouldn't have her catch sight of me at +this moment for fifty pounds." + +The green baize door was opened a tiny bit, a violent shove was +administered to Flower's back, and she found herself in the arms of Mrs. +Cameron, and in extreme danger of having her nose bitten off by the +infuriated Scorpion. + +"Just like Zebedee!" exclaimed the good lady. "Always struggling to +impart the dry bones of obsolete learning to the young! Come this way, +Miss--Miss--what's your name?" + +"Dalrymple--Flower Dalrymple." + +"An outlandish title, worthy of Sleepy Hollow. I have not an idea who +you are, but come into the dining-room." + +"Might I---- might I have a little breakfast?" + +"Bless me, the child looks as if she were going to faint! Ann, Ann, I +say! Down, Scorpion! You shall have no cream if you bark any more. Ann, +bring half a glass of port wine over here, and make some breakfast for +Miss--Miss Rymple as fast as you can." + +"_Dal_rymple, please!" + +"Don't worry me, child. I can't get my tongue round long names. Now, +what is it you are called? Daisy? What in the world have you come to me +for, Daisy?" + +"I'm Flower----" + +"Well, and isn't Daisy a flower? Now then, Daisy Rymple, tell your story +as quickly as possible. I don't mind giving you breakfast, but I'm as +busy as possible to-day. I've six committee meetings on between now and +two o'clock. Say your say, Daisy, and then you can go." + +"But I've come to stay." + +"To _stay_? Good gracious! Scorpion, down, sir! Now, young lady, have +you or have you not taken leave of your senses?" + +"No, really. May I tell you my story?" + +"If you take ten minutes over it; I won't give you longer time." + +"I'll try to get it into ten minutes. I'm an Australian, and so is +David. David is my brother. We came over in the _Australasia_ about six +weeks ago. Dr. Maybright met us in London, and took us down to Sleepy +Hollow." + +"Bless the man!--just like him. Had he any responsible matron or +spinster in the house, child?" + +"I don't know; I don't think so. There was Helen and Polly and----" + +"I don't want to hear about Polly! Go on; your ten minutes will soon be +up. Go on." + +"A couple of days ago we went on a picnic--I have a way of getting into +awful passions--and Polly--Polly vexed me." + +"Oh, she vexed you? You're not the first that young miss has vexed, I +can tell you." + +"She vexed me; I oughtn't to have minded; I got into a passion; I felt +awful; I ran away with baby." + +"Goodness me! what is the world coming to? You don't mean to say you +have dared to bring the infant here, Daisy?" + +"No, no. I ran away with her on to the moors. I was so frightened, for I +thought baby had died. Then Maggie came, and she saved her life, and she +was brought home again." + +"That's a good thing; but I can't see why you are troubling me with this +story." + +"Yesterday morning I gave baby back to Dr. Maybright. He's not like +other people; he looked at me, and his look pierced my heart. He said +something, too, and then for the first time I began to be really, really +sorry. I went up to my room; I stayed there alone all day; I was +miserable." + +"Served you right if you were, Daisy." + +"In the evening I was so hungry, I went down for food. I met Firefly; +she told me the worst." + +"Then the baby died? You really are an awful girl, Daisy Rymple." + +"No. The baby is pretty well, and Polly, who sprained her foot running +after me, is pretty well; but it's--it's Dr. Maybright--the best man I +ever met--a man who could have helped me and made me a--a good +girl--he's very, very ill, and they think he may die. He wasn't strong, +and he was out all night looking for baby and me, and he got a bad +chill, and he--he may be dead now. It was my doing; Fly told me so." + +Flower laid her head on the table; her long sustained fortitude gave +way; she sobbed violently. + +Her tears stained Mrs. Cameron's snowy table-linen; her head was pressed +down on her hands; her face was hidden. She was impervious in her woe to +any angry words or to the furious barking of a small dog. + +At last a succession of violent shakes recalled her to herself. + +"_Will_ you sit up?--spoiling my damask and shedding tears into the +excellent coffee I have made for you. Ah, that's better; now I can see +your face. Don't you know that you are a very naughty, dangerous sort of +girl?" + +"Yes, I know that quite well. Mother always said that if I didn't check +my passion I'd do great mischief some day." + +"And right she was. I don't suppose the table-linen will ever get over +those coffee stains mixed with tears. Now, have the goodness to tell me, +Daisy, or Ivy, or whatever you are called, why you have come to tell +this miserable, disgraceful story to me." + +"Fly said they none of them could love me now." + +"I should think not, indeed! No one will love such a naughty girl. What +have you come to me for?" + +"I thought I could stay with you for a little, until there was another +home found for me." + +"Oh, ah! Now at last we have come to the bottom of the mystery. And I +suppose you thought I'd pet you and make much of you?" + +"I didn't. I thought you'd scold me and be very cross. I came to you as +a punishment, for Polly always said you were the crossest woman she ever +met." + +"Polly said that? Humph! Now eat up your breakfast quickly, Daisy. I'm +going out. Don't stir from this room until I come back." + +Mrs. Cameron, who had come downstairs in her bonnet, slammed the +dining-room door after her, walked across the hall, and let herself out. +It did not take her many minutes to reach the telegraph office. From, +there she sent a brief message to Helen Maybright: + +"_Sorry your father is ill. Expect me this evening with Daisy Rymple._" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +VERY ROUGH WEATHER. + + +With all her easy and languishing ways, Flower Dalrymple had often gone +through rough times. Her life in Australia had given to her experiences +both of the extreme of luxury and the extreme of roughing, but never in +the course of her young life did she go through a more uncomfortable +journey than that from Mrs. Cameron's house in Bath to Sleepy Hollow. It +was true that Scorpion, Mrs. Cameron, and Flower, traveled first-class; +it was true also that where it was necessary for them to drive the best +carriages to be procured were at their service; but, as on all and every +occasion Scorpion was king of the ceremonies these arrangements did not +add to Flower's comfort. Mrs. Cameron, who felt seriously angry with the +young girl, addressed all her conversation to the dog, and as the dog +elected to sit on Flower's lap, and snapped and snarled whenever she +moved, and as Mrs. Cameron's words were mostly directed through the +medium of Scorpion at her, her position was not an agreeable one. + +"Ah-ha, my dear doggie!" said the good lady. "Somebody has come to the +wrong box, has she not? Somebody thought I would take her in, and be +kind to her, and pet her, and give her your cream, did she not? But no +one shall have my doggie's cream; no, that they shan't!" + +"Mrs. Cameron," said Flower, when these particularly clever and lucid +remarks had continued for nearly an hour, "may I open the window of the +carriage at this side? I'm quite stifling." + +Mrs. Cameron laid a firm, fat hand upon the window cord, and bent again +over the pampered Scorpion. + +"And is my doggie's asthma not to be considered for the sake of somebody +who ought not to be here, who was never invited nor wished for, and is +now to be returned like a bad penny to where she came from? Is my own +dearest little dog to suffer for such a person's whims? Oh, fie! oh, +fie! Well, come here my Scorpion; your mistress won't reject you." + +For Flower, in a fit of ungovernable temper, had suddenly dashed the +petted form of Scorpion to the ground. + +The poor angry girl now buried herself in the farthest corner of the +railway carriage. From there she could hear Mrs. Cameron muttering about +"somebody's" temper, and hoping that "somebody" would get her deserts. + +These remarks, uttered several times, frightened Flower so much that at +last she looked up, and said, in a queer, startled voice: + +"You don't think Dr. Maybright is going to die? You can't be so awfully +wicked as to think that." + +"Oh, we are wicked, are we, Scorpion?" said Mrs. Cameron, her fat hand +gently stroking down Scorpion's smooth fur from tip to tail. "Never +mind, Scorpion, my own; never mind. When the little demon of temper gets +into somebody she isn't quite accountable, is she?" + +Flower wondered if any restraining power would keep her from leaping out +of the window. + +But even the weariest journey comes to an end at last, and twenty-four +hours after she had left Sleepy Hollow, Flower, feeling the most +subdued, the most abject, the most brow-beaten young person in +Christendom, returned to it. Toward the end of the journey she felt +impervious to Mrs. Cameron's sly allusions, and Scorpion growled and +snapped at her in vain. Her whole heart was filled with one +over-powering dread. How should she find the Doctor? Was he better? Was +he worse? Or had all things earthly come to an end for him; and had he +reached a place where even the naughtiest girl in all the world could +vex and trouble him no longer? + +When the hired fly drew up outside the porch, Flower suddenly remembered +her first arrival--the gay "Welcome" which had waved above her head; +the kind, bright young faces that had come out of the darkness to greet +her; the voice of the head of the house, that voice which she was so +soon to learn to love, uttering the cheeriest and heartiest words of +greeting. Now, although Mrs. Cameron pulled the hall-door bell with no +uncertain sound, no one, for a time at least, answered the summons, and +Flower, seizing her opportunity, sprang out of the fly and rushed into +the house. + +The first person she met, the very first, was Polly. Polly was sitting +at the foot of the stairs, all alone. She had seated herself on the +bottom step. Her knees were huddled up almost to her chin. Her face was +white, and bore marks of tears. She scarcely looked up when Flower ran +to her. + +"Polly! Polly! How glad I am you at least are not very ill." + +"Is that you, Flower?" asked Polly. + +She did not seem surprised, or in any way affected. + +"Yes, my leg does still ache very much. But what of that? What of +anything now? He is worse! They have sent for another doctor. The doctor +from London is upstairs; he's with him. I'm waiting here to catch him +when he comes down, for I must know the very worst." + +"The very worst!" echoed Flower in a feeble tone. + +She tumbled down somehow on to the stair beside Polly, and the next +instant her death-like face lay in Polly's lap. + +"Now, my dear, you need not be in the least frightened," said a shrill +voice in Polly's ears. "A most troublesome young person! a most +troublesome! She has just fainted; that's all. Let me fetch a jug of +cold water to pour over her." + +"Is that _you_, Aunt Maria?" said Polly. "Oh, yes, there was a telegram, +but we forgot all about it. And is that Scorpion, and is he going to +bark? But he mustn't! Please kneel down here, Aunt Maria, and hold +Flower's head. Whatever happens, Scorpion mustn't bark. Give him to me!" + +Before Mrs. Cameron had time to utter a word or in any way to +expostulate, she found herself dragged down beside Flower, Flower's head +transferred to her capacious lap, and the precious Scorpion snatched out +of her arms. Polly's firm, muscular young fingers tightly held the dog's +mouth, and in an instant Scorpion and she were out of sight. +Notwithstanding all his fighting and struggling and desperate efforts to +free himself, she succeeded in carrying him to a little deserted summer +pagoda at a distant end of the garden. Here she locked him in, and +allowed him to suffer both cold and hunger for the remainder of the +night. + +There are times when even the most unkind are softened. Mrs. Cameron was +not a sympathetic person. She was a great philanthropist, it is true, +and was much esteemed, especially by those people who did not know her +well. But love, the real name for what the Bible calls charity, seldom +found an entrance into her heart. The creature she devoted most +affection to was Scorpion. But now, as she sat in the still house, which +all the time seemed to throb with a hidden intense life; when she heard +in the far distance doors opening gently and stifled sobs and moans +coming from more than one young throat; when she looked down at the +death-like face of Flower--she really did forget herself, and rose for +once to the occasion. + +Very gently--for she was a strong woman--she lifted Flower, and +carried her into the Doctor's study. There she laid her on a sofa, and +gave her restoratives, and when Flower opened her dazed eyes she spoke +to her more kindly than she had done yet. + +"I have ordered something for you, which you are to take at once," she +said. "Ah! here it is! Thank you, Alice. Now, Daisy, drink this off at +once." + +It was a beaten-up egg in milk and brandy, and when Flower drank it she +felt no longer giddy, and was able to sit up and look around her. + +In the meantime Polly and all the other children remained still as mice +outside the Doctor's door. They had stolen on tiptoe from different +quarters of the old house to this position, and now they stood perfectly +still, not looking at one another or uttering a sound, but with their +eyes fixed with pathetic earnestness and appeal at the closed door. When +would the doctors come out? When would the verdict be given? Minutes +passed. The children found this time of tension an agony. + +"I can't bear it!" sobbed Firefly at last. + +But the others said, "Hush!" so peremptorily, and with such a total +disregard for any one person's special emotions, that the little girl's +hysterical fit was nipped in the bud. + +At last there was a sound of footsteps within the room, and the local +practitioner, accompanied by the great physician from London, opened the +door carefully and came out. + +"Go in and sit with your father," said one of the doctors to Helen. + +Without a word she disappeared into the darkened room, and all the +others, including little Pearl in Nurse's arms, followed the medical men +downstairs. They went into the Doctor's study, where Flower was still +lying very white and faint on the sofa. Fortunately for the peace of the +next quarter of an hour Mrs. Cameron had taken herself off in a vain +search for Scorpion. + +"Now," said Polly, when they were all safely in the room--she took no +notice of Flower; she did not even see her--"now please speak; please +tell us the whole truth at once." + +She went up and laid her hand on the London physician's arm. + +"The whole truth? But I cannot do that, my dear young lady," he said, in +hearty, genial tones. "Bless me!" turning to the other doctor, "do all +these girls and boys belong to Maybright? And so you want the whole +truth, Miss--Miss----" + +"I'm called Polly, sir." + +"The whole truth, Polly? Only God knows that. Your father was in a weak +state of health; he had a shock and a chill. We feared mischief to the +brain. Oh, no, he is by no means out of the wood yet. Still I have hope +of him; I have great hope. What do you say, Strong? Symptoms have +undoubtedly taken a more favorable turn during the last hour or two." + +"I quite agree with you, Sir Andrew," said the local practitioner, with +a profound bow. + +"Then, my dear young lady, my answer to you, to all of you, is that, +although only God knows the whole truth, there is, in my opinion, +considerable hope--yes, considerable. I'll have a word with you in the +other room, Strong. Good-by, children; keep up your spirits. I have +every reason to think well of the change which has set in within the +last hour." + +The moment the doctors left the room Polly looked eagerly round at the +others. + +"Only God knows the truth," she said. "Let us pray to Him this very +minute. Let's get on our knees at once." + +They all did so, and all were silent. + +"What are we to say, Polly?" asked Firefly at last. "I never did 'aloud +prayers' since mother died." + +"Hush! There's the Lord's Prayer," said Polly. "Won't somebody say it? +My voice is choking." + +"I will," said Flower. + +Nobody had noticed her before; now she came forward, knelt down by +Polly's side, and repeated the prayer of prayers in a steady voice. When +it was over, she put up her hands to her face, and remained silent. + +"What are you saying now?" asked Firefly, pulling at her skirt. + +"Something about myself." + +"What is that?" they all asked. + +"I've been the wickedest girl in the whole of England. I have been +asking God to forgive me." + +"Oh, poor Flower!" echoed the children, touched by her dreary, forsaken +aspect. + +Polly put her arms round her and kissed her. + +"We have quite forgiven you, so, of course, God will," she said. + +"How noble you are! Will you be my friend?" + +"Yes, if you want to have me. Oh, children!" continued Polly, "do you +think we can any of us ever do anything naughty again if father gets +better?" + +"He will get better now," said Firefly. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +A NOVEL HIDING-PLACE. + + +Whether it was the children's faith or the children's prayer, certain it +is that from that moment the alarming symptoms in connection with Dr. +Maybright's illness abated. It was some days before he was pronounced +out of danger, but even that happy hour arrived in due course, and one +by one his children were allowed to come to see him. + +Mrs. Cameron meanwhile arranged matters pretty much as she pleased +downstairs. Helen, who from the first had insisted on nursing her father +herself, had no time to housekeep. Polly's sprained ankle would not get +well in a minute, and, besides, other circumstances had combined to +reduce that young lady's accustomed fire and ardor. Consequently, Mrs. +Cameron had matters all her own way, and there is not the least doubt +that she and Scorpion between them managed to create a good deal of +moral and physical disquietude. + +"Well," she said to herself, "when all is said and done, that poor man +who is on the flat of his back upstairs is my sainted Helen's husband; +and if at such a time as this Maria Cameron should harbor ill-will in +her heart it would but ill become the leader of some of the largest +philanthropic societies in Bath. No, for the present my place is here, +and no black looks, nor surly answers, nor impertinent remarks, will +keep Maria Cameron from doing her duty." + +Accordingly Mrs. Power gave a month's notice, and Alice wept so +profusely that her eyes for the time being were seriously injured. +Scorpion bit the new kitchen-maid Jane twice, who went into hysterics +and expected hydrophobia daily. But notwithstanding these and sundry +other fracases, Mrs. Cameron steadily pursued her way. She looked into +account-books, she interviewed the butcher, she dismissed the baker, she +overhauled the store-room, and after her own fashion--and a +disagreeable fashion it was--did a good deal of indirect service to the +family. + +Flower in particular she followed round so constantly and persistently +that the young girl began to wonder if Mrs. Cameron seriously and really +intended to punish her, by now bereaving her of her senses. + +"I don't think I can stand it much longer," said Flower to Polly. "Last +night I was in bed and asleep when she came in. I was awfully tired, and +had just fallen into my first sleep, when that detestable dog snapped at +my nose. There was Mrs. Cameron standing in the middle of the room with +a lighted candle in her hand. 'Get up,' she said. 'What for?' I asked. +'Get up this minute!' she said, and she stamped her foot. I thought +perhaps she would disturb your father, for my room is not far away from +his, so I tumbled out of bed. 'Now, what is the matter?' I asked. 'The +matter?' said Mrs. Cameron. '_That's_ the matter! and _that's_ the +matter! and _that's_ the matter!' And what do you think? She was +pointing to my stockings and shoes, and my other clothes. I always do +leave them in a little heap in the middle of the floor; they're +perfectly comfortable there, and it doesn't injure them in the least. +Well! that awful woman woke me out of my sleep to put them by. She stood +over me, and made me fold the clothes up, and shake out the stockings, +and put the shoes under a chair, and all the time that fiendish dog was +snapping at my heels. Oh, it's intolerable! I'll be in a lunatic asylum +if this goes on much longer!" + +Polly laughed; she could not help it; and Firefly and David, who were +both listening attentively, glanced significantly at one another. + +The next morning, very, very early, Firefly was awakened by a bump. She +sat up, rubbed her eyes, and murmured, "All right!" under her breath. + +"Put something on, Fly, and be quick," whispered David's voice from the +door. + +Firefly soon tumbled into a warm frock, a thick outdoor jacket, and a +little fur cap; her shoes and stockings were tumbled on anyhow. Holding +her jacket together--for she was in too great a hurry to fasten +it--she joined David. + +"I did it last night," he said; "it's a large hole; he'll never be +discovered there. And now the thing is to get him." + +"Oh, Dave, how will you manage that?" + +"Trust me, Fly. Even if I do run a risk, I don't care. Anything is +better than the chance of Flower getting into another of her passions." + +"Oh, anything, of course," said Fly. "Are you going to kill him, Dave?" + +"No. The hole is big; he can move about in it. What I thought of was +this--we'd sell him." + +"Sell him? But he isn't ours." + +"No matter! He's a public nuisance, and he must be got rid of. There are +often men wandering on the moor who would be glad to buy a small dog +like Scorpion. They'd very likely give us a shilling for him. Then we'd +drop the shilling into Mrs. Cameron's purse. Don't you see? She'd never +know how it got there. Then, you understand, it would really have been +Mrs. Cameron who sold Scorpion." + +"Oh, delicious!" exclaimed Fly. "She'd very likely spend the money on +postage stamps to send round begging charity letters." + +"So Scorpion would have done good in the end," propounded David. "But +come along now, Fly. The difficult thing is to catch the little brute." + +It was still very early in the morning, and the corridors and passages +were quite dark. David and Fly, however, could feel their way about like +little mice, and they soon found themselves outside the door of the +green room, which was devoted to Mrs. Cameron. + +"Do you feel this?" said David, putting out his hand and touching Fly. +"This is a long towel; I'm winding part of it round my hand and arm. I +don't want to get hydrophobia, like poor Jane. Now, I'm going to creep +into Mrs. Cameron's room so quietly, that even Scorpion won't wake. I +learned how to do that from the black people in Australia. You may stand +there, Fly, but you won't hear even a pin fall till I come back with +Scorpion." + +"If I don't hear, I feel," replied Fly. "My heart does thump so. I'm +just awfully excited. Don't be very long away, Dave." + +By this time David had managed to unhasp the door. He pushed it open a +few inches, and then lay flat down on his face and hands. The next +moment he had disappeared into the room, and all was profoundly still. +Fly could hear through the partly open door the gentle and regularly +kept-up sound of a duet of snoring. After three or four minutes the duet +became a solo. Still there was no other sound, not a gasp, not even the +pretense of a bark. More minutes passed by. Had David gone to sleep on +the floor? Was Scorpion dead that he had ceased to snore? + +These alarming thoughts had scarcely passed through her mind before +David rejoined her. + +"He's wrapped up in this towel," he said. "He's kicking with his hind +legs, but he can't get a squeak out; now come along." + +Too careless and happy in the success of their enterprise even to +trouble to shut Mrs. Cameron's door, the two children rushed downstairs +and out of the house. They effected their exit easily by opening the +study window. In a moment or two they were in the shrubbery. + +"The hole isn't here," said David. "Somebody might find him here and +bring him back, and that would never do. Do you remember Farmer Long's +six-acre field?" + +"Where he keeps the bull?" exclaimed Fly. "You haven't made the hole +there, Dave?" + +"Yes, I have, in one corner! It's the best place in all the world, for +not a soul will dare to come near the field while the bull is there. You +needn't be frightened, Fly! He's always taken home at night! He's not +there now. But don't you see how he'll guard Scorpion all day? Even Mrs. +Cameron won't dare to go near the field while the bull is there." + +"I see!" responded Fly, in an appreciative voice. "You're a very clever +boy, Dave. Now let's come quick and pop him into the hole." + +Farmer Long's six-acre field was nearly a quarter of a mile away, but +the children reached it in good time, and Fly looked down with interest +on the scene of David's excavations. The hole, which must have given the +little boy considerable labor, was nearly three feet deep, and about a +foot wide. In the bottom lay a large beef bone. + +"He won't like it much!" said David. "His teeth aren't good; he can only +eat chicken bones, but hunger will make him nibble it by-and-by. Now, +Fly, will you go behind that furze bush and bring me a square, flat +board, which you will find there?" + +"What a funny board!" said Fly, returning in a moment. "It's all over +little square holes." + +"Those are for him to breathe through," said David. "Now, then, master, +here you go! You won't annoy any one in particular here, unless, +perhaps, you interfere with Mr. Bull's arrangements. Hold the board over +the top of the hole, so, Fly. Now then, I hope you'll enjoy yourself, my +dear amiable little friend." + +The bandage which firmly bound Scorpion's mouth was removed. He was +popped into the hole, and the wooden cover made fast over the top. The +children went home, vowing eternal secrecy, which not even tortures +should wring from them. + +At breakfast that morning Mrs. Cameron appeared late on the scene. Her +eyes were red with weeping. She also looked extremely cross. + +"Helen, I must request you to have some fresh coffee made for me. I +cannot bear half cold coffee. Daisy, have the goodness to ring the bell. +Yes, my dear children, I am late. I have a sad reason for being late; +the dog is nowhere to be found." + +A gleam of satisfaction filled each young face. Fly crimsoning greatly, +lowered her eyes; but David looked tranquilly full at Mrs. Cameron. + +"Is it that nice little Scorpion?" he asked. "I'm awfully sorry, but I +suppose he went for a walk." + +Mrs. Cameron glanced with interest at David's sympathetic face. + +"No, my dear boy, that isn't his habit. The dear little dog sleeps, as a +rule, until just the last moment. Then I lift him gently, and carry him +downstairs for his cream." + +"I wonder how he likes that bare beef bone?" murmured Fly, almost aloud. + +"He's sure to come home for his cream in a moment or two!" said David. + +He gave Fly a violent kick under the table. + +"Helen," said Mrs. Cameron, "be sure you keep Scorpion's cream." + +"There isn't any," replied Helen. "I was obliged to send it up to +father. There was not nearly so much cream as usual this morning. I had +scarcely enough for father." + +"You don't mean to tell me you have used up the dog's cream?" exclaimed +Mrs. Cameron. "Well, really, that _is_ too much. The little animal will +starve, he can't touch anything else. Oh, where is he? My little, +faithful pet! My lap feels quite empty without him. My dear children, I +trust you may never love--_love_ a little creature as I love Scorpion, +and then lose him. Yes, I am seriously uneasy, the dog would not have +left me of his own accord." + +Here, to the astonishment of everybody, and the intense indignation of +Mrs. Cameron, Fly burst into a scream of hysterical laughter, and hid +her face in Polly's neck. + +"What a naughty child!" exclaimed the good lady. "You have no sympathy +with my pet, my darling! Speak this minute. Where is the dog, miss?" + +"I expect in his grave," said Fly. + +Whereupon Dave suddenly disappeared under the table, and all the others +stared in wonder at Fly. + +"Firefly, do you know anything?" + +"I expect Scorpion is in his grave. Where is the use of making such a +fuss?" responded Fly. + +And she made a precipitate retreat out of the window. + +All the remainder of that day was occupied in a vain search for the +missing animal. Mrs. Cameron strongly suspected Firefly, but the only +remark the little girl could be got to make was: + +"I am sure Scorpion is in his grave." + +Mrs. Cameron said that was no answer, and further insisted that the +child should be severely punished. But as in reply to that, Helen said +firmly that as long as father was in the house no one should punish the +children but him, she felt, for the present, at least, obliged to hold +her sense of revenge in check. + +After Fly had gone to bed that night, David crept into her room. + +"I've done it all now," he said. "I sold Scorpion to-night for a +shilling to a man who was walking across the moor, and I have just +popped the shilling into Mrs. Cameron's purse. The horrid little brute +worked quite a big hole in the bottom of the grave, Fly, and he nearly +snapped my fingers off when I lifted him out to give him to Jones. But +he's away now, that's a comfort. What a silly thing you were, Fly, to +burst out laughing at breakfast, and then say that Scorpion was in his +grave." + +"But it was so true, David. That hole looked exactly like a grave." + +"But you have drawn suspicion upon you. Now, Mrs. Cameron certainly +doesn't suspect me. See what she has given me: this beautiful new +two-shilling piece. She said I was a very kind boy, and had done my best +to find her treasure for her." + +"Oh, Dave, how could you take it!" + +"Couldn't I, just! I'm not a little muff, like you. I intend to buy a +set of wickets with this. Well, good-night, Fly; nobody need fear +hydrophobia after this good day's work." + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +A DILEMMA. + + +A night's sleep had by no means improved Mrs. Cameron's temper. She came +downstairs the next morning so snappish and disagreeable, so much +inclined to find fault with everybody, and so little disposed to see the +faintest gleam of light in any direction, that the children almost +regretted Scorpion's absence, and began to wonder if, after all, he was +not a sort of safety-valve for Mrs. Cameron, and more or less essential +to her existence. + +Hitherto this good woman had not seen her brother-in-law; and it was +both Helen's and Polly's constant aim to keep her from the sick room. + +It was several days now since the Doctor was pronounced quite out of +danger; but the affection of his eyes which had caused his children so +many anxious fears, had become much worse. As the London oculist had +told him, any shock or chill would do this; and there was now no doubt +whatever that for a time, at least, he would have to live in a state of +total darkness. + +"It is a dreadful fate," said Helen to Polly. "Oh, yes, it is a dreadful +fate, but we must not complain, for anything is better than losing him." + +"Anything truly," replied Polly. "Why, what is the matter, Flower? How +you stare." + +Flower had been lying full-length on the old sofa in the school-room; +she now sprang to her feet, and came up eagerly to the two sisters. + +"Could a person do this," she said, her voice trembling with +eagerness--"Could such a thing as this be done: could one give their +eyes away?" + +"Flower!" + +"Yes, I mean it. Could I give my eyes to Dr. Maybright--I mean just do +nothing at all but read to him and look for him--manage so that he +should know everything just through my eyes. Can I do it? If I can, I +will." + +"But, Flower, you are not father's daughter," said Polly in an almost +offended tone. "You speak, Flower--you speak as if he were all the +world to you." + +"So he is all the world to me!" said Flower. "I owe him reparation, I +owe him just everything. Yes, Helen and Polly, I think I understand how +to keep your father from missing his eyes much. Oh, how glad I am, how +very glad I am!" + +From that moment Flower became more or less a changed creature. She +developed all kinds of qualities which the Maybrights had never given +her credit for. She had a degree of tact which was quite astonishing in +a child of her age. There was never a jarring note in her melodious +voice. With her impatience gone, and her fiery, passionate temper +soothed, she was just the girl to be a charming companion to an invalid. + +However restless the Doctor was, he grew quieter when Flower stole her +little hand into his; and when he was far too weak and ill and suffering +to bear any more reading aloud, he could listen to Flower as she recited +one wild ballad after another. + +Flower had found her mission, and she was seldom now long away from the +Doctor's bedside. + +"Don't be jealous, Polly," said Helen. "All this is saving Flower, and +doing father good." + +"There is one comfort about it," said Polly, "that as Aunt Maria +perfectly detests poor Flower, or Daisy, as she calls her, she is not +likely to go into father's room." + +"That is true!" said Helen. "She came to the room door the other day, +but Flower was repeating 'Hiawatha,' and acting it a little bit--you +know she can't help acting anything she tries to recite--and Aunt Maria +just threw up her hands and rolled her eyes, and went away." + +"What a comfort!" said Polly. "Whatever happens, we must never allow the +dreadful old thing to come near father." + +Alack! alas! something so bad had happened, so terrible a tragedy had +been enacted that even Flower and Hiawatha combined could no longer keep +Mrs. Cameron away from her brother-in-law's apartment. + +On the second day after Scorpion's disappearance, the good woman called +Helen aside, and spoke some words which filled her with alarm. + +"My dear!" she said, "I am very unhappy. The little dog, the little +sunbeam of my life, is lost. I am convinced, Helen! yes, I am convinced, +that there is foul play in the matter. You, every one of you, took a +most unwarrantable dislike to the poor, faithful little animal. Yes, +every one of you, with the exception of David, detested my Scorpion, and +I am quite certain that you all know where he now is." + +"But really, Aunt Maria," said Helen, her fair face flushing, "really, +now, you don't seriously suppose that I had anything to say to +Scorpion's leaving you." + +"I don't know, my dear. I exonerate David. Yes, David is a good boy; he +was attached to the dog, and I quite exonerate him. But as to the rest +of you, I can only say that I wish to see your father on the subject." + +"Oh! Aunt Maria! you are not going to trouble father, so ill as he is, +about that poor, miserable little dog?" + +"Thank you, Helen! thank you! poor miserable little dog indeed. Ah! my +dear, you have let the cat out of the bag now. Yes, my dear, I insist on +seeing your father with regard to the _poor, miserable little dog_. +Poor, indeed, am I without him, my little treasure, my little faithful +Scorpion." Here Mrs. Cameron applied her handkerchief to her eyes, and +Helen walked to the window, feeling almost driven to despair. + +"I think you are doing wrong!" she said, presently. "It is wrong to +disturb a man like father about any dog, however noble. I am sure I am +right in saying that we, none of us, know anything about Scorpion's +disappearance. However, if you like, and rather than that father should +be worried, I will send for all the children, and ask them the question +one by one before you. I am absolutely sure that they won't think +Scorpion worth a lie." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +FIREFLY. + + +Helen experienced some little difficulty in getting her scattered +brothers and sisters together. She could not get any of them to think +seriously of Scorpion's departure. They laughed and lingered over their +own pursuits, and told Helen to her face that she made a great fuss +about nothing; in short, the best part of an hour had gone by before the +Maybrights and the two Dalrymples assembled in Mrs. Cameron's presence +in the morning room. + +"It is just this, children," said Helen. "Aunt Maria feels very low +about Scorpion; you see she loved him." Groans here came audibly from +the lips of Bob and Bunny. "Yes!" said Helen, looking severely at her +two little brothers, "Aunt Maria did love Scorpion. She feels very +lonely without him, and she has taken an idea into her head that one or +other of you had something to say to his disappearance. Of course I know +that none of you could be so cruel and heartless, but to satisfy Aunt +Maria, I have asked you all to come here just to tell her that you did +nothing to make Scorpion run away." + +"Only we are very glad he did run away!" said Bob, "but as to touching +him, why, I wouldn't with a pair of tongs." + +"I wish to say a word!" said Mrs. Cameron. She came forward, and stood +looking very flushed and angry before the assembled group. "I wish to +say that I am sure some of you in your malice deprived me of my dog. I +believe David Dalrymple to be innocent, but as to the rest of you, I may +as well say that I do not believe you, whatever you may tell me." + +"Well, after that!" exclaimed all the children. + +"I suppose, Helen, after that we may go away?" said Firefly, who was +looking very pale. + +"No, Miss!" said Aunt Maria, "you must stay. Your sister Helen does not +wish me to do anything to disturb your father, but I assure you, +children, there are limits even to my patience, and I intend to visit +him this morning and tell him the whole story, unless before you leave +the room you tell me the truth." + +Firefly's sallow little face grew whiter and whiter. She glanced +imploringly at David, who looked boldly and unconcernedly back at her; +then, throwing back his head, he marched up to Mrs. Cameron's side. + +"You believe that _I_ am innocent, don't you?" he said. + +"Certainly, my dear boy. I have said so." + +"In that case, perhaps you would not mind my going out a little way on +the moor and having a good look round for the dog, he _may_ have +wandered there, you know, and broken his leg or something." Mrs. Cameron +shuddered. "In any case," continued David, with a certain air of modest +assurance, which became him very much, "it seems a pity that I should +waste time here." + +"Certainly; go, my dear lad," answered Mrs. Cameron. "Bring my little +innocent suffering treasure back with you, and I will give you half a +crown." + +David instantly left the room, unheeding a short, sharp cry which issued +from Firefly's lips as he passed her. + +Most of the other children were laughing; it was impossible for them to +think of anything in connection with Scorpion except as a joke. + +"Listen, Aunt Maria," said Helen. "I am afraid you must not treat my +brothers and sisters as you propose. Neither must you trouble father +without the doctor's permission. The fact is, Aunt Maria, we are +Maybrights, and every one who knows anything about us at all _must_ know +that we would scorn to tell a lie. Our father and our dear, dear +mother--your sister whom you loved, Aunt Maria, and for whose sake you +are interested in us--taught us to fear a lie more than anything, +_much_ more than punishment, _much_ more than discovery. Oh, yes, we +have heaps and heaps of faults; we can tease, we can be passionate, and +idle, and selfish; but being Maybrights, being the children of our own +father and mother, we can't lie. The fact is, we'd be afraid to." + +Helen's blue eyes were full of tears. + +"Bravo! Helen!" said Polly, going up to her sister and kissing her. "She +says just the simple truth, Aunt Maria," she continued, flashing round +in her bright way on the old lady. "We _are_ a naughty set--_you_ know +that, don't you?--but we can't tell lies; we draw the line there." + +"Yes, we draw the line there," suddenly said Firefly, in a high-pitched +voice, which sounded as if it was going to crack. + +"I admire bravery," said Mrs. Cameron, after a pause. "Ask your +questions, Helen. For my dead sister's sake I will accept the word of a +Maybright. 'Pon my word, you are extraordinary young people; but I +admire girls who are not afraid to speak out, and who uphold their +parents' teaching. Ask the children quickly, Helen, if they know +anything about the dog, for after David's hint about his having strayed +on that awful moor, and perhaps having broken one of his dear little +legs, I feel more uncomfortable than ever about him. For goodness' sake, +Helen! ask your question quickly, and let me get out on the moor to look +for my dog." + +"Children," said Helen, coming forward at once, "do you know anything +about Scorpion's loss, _any_thing? Now, I am going to ask you each +singly; as you answer you can leave the room. Polly, I begin with you." + +One by one the Maybrights and Flower answered very clear and emphatic +"No's" to Helen's question, and one by one they retired to wait for +their companions in the passage outside. + +At last Helen put the question to Firefly. Two big, green-tinted hazel +eyes were raised to her face. + +"Yes, Helen, I do know," replied Firefly. + +Mrs. Cameron uttered a shriek, and almost fell upon the little girl, but +Helen very gently held her back. + +"One minute," she said. "Firefly, what do you know?" + +"I'm not going to tell you, Helen." The child's lips quivered, but her +eyes looked up bravely. + +"Why so? Please, Aunt Maria, let me speak to her. Why won't you tell +what you know, dear Fly?" + +"Because I promised. There, I won't say a word more about it. I do know, +and I won't tell; no, I won't ever, ever tell. You can punish me, of +course, Aunt Maria." + +"So I will, Miss. Take that slap for your impertinence. Oh! if you were +my child, should not I give you a whipping. You know what has happened +to my poor _dear_ little dog, and you refuse to tell. But you shall +tell--you wicked cruel little thing--you shall, you must!" + +"Shall I take Firefly away and question her?" asked Helen. "Please, Aunt +Maria, don't be too stern with her. She is a timid little thing; she is +not accustomed to people blaming her. She has some reason for this, but +she will explain everything to her sister Nell, won't you, darling?" + +The child's lips were trembling, and her eyes filling with tears. + +"There's no use in my going away with you, Helen," she replied, +steadily. "I am willing Aunt Maria should punish me, but I can't tell +because I'm a Maybright. It would be telling a lie to say what I know. I +don't mind your punishing me rather badly, Aunt Maria." + +"Oh, you don't, don't you?" said Aunt Maria. "Listen; was not that the +sound of wheels?" + +"The doctor to see father," explained Helen. "I ought to go." + +"Excuse me, my dear, I particularly wish to see your father's medical +adviser this morning. I will not detain him long, but I have a question +I wish to put to him. You stay with your little sister, Helen. I shall +be back soon." + +Mrs. Cameron trotted out of the room. In about ten minutes, with an +exultant look on her face, she returned. Firefly was now clasped tightly +in Helen's arms while she sobbed her heart out on her breast. + +"Well, Helen, has this _most_ impertinent, naughty child confessed?" + +"She has not," said Helen. "I don't understand her; she seems in sore +trouble. Dear little Fly!" + +"'Dear little Fly,' indeed! Naughty, wicked little Fly, you mean. +However, my dear, I have come to tell you that I have just had an +interview with the excellent doctor who attends your father. He has gone +up to see him now. He says he does not want to see you at all to-day, +Helen. Well, I spoke to Dr. Strong, and he was _astonished_--absolutely +astonished, when he heard that I had not yet been permitted to see my +brother-in-law. I told him quite frankly that you girls were jealous of +my influence, and used his (Dr. Strong's) name to keep me out of my poor +brother's room. 'But my dear madam,' he said, 'the young ladies labor +under a mistake--a vast, a monstrous mistake. _Nothing_ could do my +poor patient more good than to see a sensible, practical lady like +yourself!' 'Then I may see him this afternoon?' I asked. 'Undoubtedly, +Mrs. Cameron,' he replied; 'it will be something for my patient to look +forward to.' I have arranged then, my dear Helen, to pay a visit to your +father at three o'clock to-day." + +Helen could not repress a sigh. + +Mrs. Cameron raised her eyebrows with a certain suggestive and +aggravating gesture. + +"Ah, my dear," she said, "you must try to keep under that jealous +temperament. Jealousy fostered in the heart overshadows and overclouds +all life. Be warned in time." + +"About this child," said Helen, drawing Firefly forward, "what is to be +done about her? You will be lenient, won't you, Aunt Maria, for she is +very young?" + +"By the way," said Mrs. Cameron, with the manner of one who had not +heard a word of Helen's last speech, "is this naughty little girl +attached to her father?" + +Firefly raised her tear-dimmed face. + +"He is my darling----" she began. + +"Ah, yes, my dear; I detest exaggerated expressions. If you love him, +you can now prove it. You would not, for instance, wish to give him +anxiety, or to injure him?" + +"Oh, no, oh, no! I would rather die." + +"Again that sentimental exaggeration; but you shall prove your words. If +you have not confessed to me before three o'clock to-day all you know +about the loss of my treasured dog Scorpion, I shall take you into your +father's sick room, and in his presence dare you to keep your wicked +secret to yourself any longer." + +"Oh, you don't mean that," said Firefly. "You can't be so awfully cruel. +Nell, Nell, do say that Aunt Maria doesn't mean that." + +The child was trembling violently; her little face was white as death, +her appealing eyes would have softened most hearts. + +"Oh, Nell, what shall I do if I make father worse again? For I can't +tell what I know; it would be a lie to tell it, and you said yourself, +Nell, that no Maybright told lies." + +Mrs. Cameron smiled grimly. + +"I have said it," she remarked; "it all rests with yourself, Firefly. I +shall be ready either to hear your confession or to take you to your +father at three o'clock to-day." + +With these words the good lady walked out of the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +TO THE RESCUE. + + +An hour later a wildly anxious and disconsolate little figure might have +been seen knocking at Polly's door. No answer from within. A moment of +suspense on the part of the little figure, followed by another and +louder knock; then the small, nervous fingers turned the handle of the +door, and Firefly pushed her head in and peered anxiously round. + +Oh, dear! oh, dear! No Polly was in the room. And why did the great +eight-day clock in the hall strike twelve? Why, on this morning of all +mornings, should time go on wings? Firefly had great faith in Polly's +powers of helping her. But the moments were too precious to waste them +in trying to find her. She had another search to make, and she must set +out at once. No, not quite at once. She clasped her hands to her beating +little heart as an idea came to her on which she might act. A delicious +and yet most sorrowful idea, which would fill her with the keenest pain, +and yet give her the very sweetest consolation. She would go and get a +kiss from her father before she set out on the search, which might be a +failure. Very swiftly she turned, flew down the long gallery which led +to Dr. Maybright's room, and went in. + +Dr. Strong had paid his visit and gone away. Firefly's heart gave a +bound of delight, for her father was alone. He was lying supported high +in bed with pillows. His almost sightless eyes were not bandaged, they +were simply closed; his hands, with their long, sensitive, purposeful +fingers lay on the white sheets in a restful attitude. Already the acute +hearing of the blind had come to him, and as Firefly glided up to the +bedside, he turned his head quickly. Her two small hands went with a +kind of bound into one of his. His fingers closed over them. + +"This is my Fly," said the Doctor; "a very excited and feverish Fly, +too. How these small fingers flutter! What is it, my darling?" + +"A kiss, father," said Fly, "a great _hug_ of a kiss! please, please. I +want it so awfully badly." + +"Climb up on the bed, and put your arms round me. Is that all right? My +dear little one, you are not well." + +"I'm quite well, now, while I'm loving you. Oh! aren't you just the +darlingest of all darling fathers? There, another kiss; and another! Now +I'm better." + +She glided off the bed, pressed two long, last fervent embraces on the +Doctor's white hand, and rushed out of the room. + +"I'm lots stronger now," she said to herself. "_Whatever_ happens, I'll +have those kisses to hold on to and remember; but nothing shall happen, +for I'm going to find David; he is sure to put things right for me." + +Meanwhile, Polly's absence from her room was accounted for, also the +fact of Fly finding her father alone. It was seldom that this dearly +loved and favorite father, physician, and friend, was left to indulge in +solitude. It was the privilege of all privileges to sit by him, read to +him, and listen to his talk; and a girl, generally two girls, occupied +the coveted chairs by his bedside. On this morning, however, poor Helen +was detained, first by Aunt Maria, and then by necessary housekeeping +cares; and Polly and Flower were deeply engrossed over a matter of +considerable importance. + +When Polly had replied in the negative to Helen's question, she lingered +for a moment in the passage outside the morning-room, then started off +to find Nurse and little Pearl. Flower, however, waited with a feeling +of curiosity, or perhaps something more, to hear what the others would +say. She was witness, therefore, through the open door, of Firefly's +curious mixture of avowal and denial, and when Mrs. Cameron went away to +consult the doctor who attended Dr. Maybright, she coolly waited in an +adjoining room, and when the good woman returned, once more placed +herself within earshot. No Maybright would dream of eavesdropping, but +Flower's upbringing had been decidedly lax with regard to this and other +matters. + +In full possession, therefore, of the facts of the catastrophe which was +to overpower poor little Fly and injure Dr. Maybright, she rushed off to +find Polly. Polly was feeling intensely happy, playing with and fondling +her sweet little baby sister, when Flower, pale and excited, rushed into +the room. Nurse, who had not yet forgiven Flower, turned her back upon +the young lady, and hummed audibly. Flower, however, was far too much +absorbed to heed her. + +"Listen, Polly! you have got to come with me at once. Give baby back to +Nurse. You must come with me directly." + +"If it is anything more about Scorpion, I refuse to stir," answered +Polly. "If there is a creature in this world whom I absolutely loathe, +it's that detestable little animal!" + +"You don't hate him more than I do," said Flower. "My news is about him. +Still, you must come, for it also means Firefly and your father. They'll +both get into awful trouble--I know they will--if we don't save them." + +"What?" said Polly; "what? Take baby, please, Nurse. Now, what is it, +Flower?" pulling her outside the nursery door. "What _has_ that horrid +Scorpion to do with Fly and father?" + +"Only this: Fly has confessed that she knows what has become of him, but +she's a dear little brick and won't tell. She says she's a Maybright, +and they don't tell lies. Three cheers for the Maybrights, if they are +all like Fly, say I! Well, the little love won't tell, and Mrs. Cameron +is fit to dance, and what does she do but gets leave from Dr. Strong to +see your father, and she's going to drag Fly before him at three o'clock +to-day, and make a fine story of what happened. She holds it over Fly +that your father will be made very ill again. Very likely he will, if +_we_ don't prevent it." + +"It's horrible!" said Polly; "but _how_ can we prevent it, Flower?" + +"Oh, easily enough. _You_ must guard your father's room. Let no one in +under any pretense whatever until I have found David." + +"What do you mean by finding David? What can David have to say to it?" + +"Oh! has he not? Poor Fly! David has got her into his toils. David is at +the bottom of all this, I am convinced. I guessed it the moment I saw +him go up so boldly to Mrs. Cameron and pretend to be sorry about the +dog. _He_ sorry about Scorpion! He hates him more than any of us." + +"But then--I don't understand; if that is so, David told a deliberate +lie, Flower." + +Flower colored. + +"We have not been brought up like the Maybrights," she said. "Oh, yes, +_we_ could tell a lie; we were not brought up to be particular about +good things, or to avoid bad things. We were brought up--well, just +anyhow." + +Polly stole up to Flower and kissed her. + +"I am glad you have come to learn of my father," she said. "Now do tell +me what we are to do for poor, poor Fly. Do you think David is guilty, +and that he has got Fly to promise not to tell?" + +"Yes, that is what I think. David must be found, and got to confess, and +so release Fly of her promise before three o'clock. David is a dreadful +boy to find when he takes it into his head to hide on purpose; but I +must look for him, and in the meantime will you guard your father, +Polly?" + +"As a dragon," said Polly. "You may trust me about that at least. I will +go to his room at once to make all things safe, for there is really no +trusting Aunt Maria when she has a scheme of vengeance with regard to +_that dog_ in her head. Good-by, Flower; I'm off to father." + +Polly turned away, and Flower ran quickly downstairs. She knew she had +not a moment to lose, for David, as she expressed it, was a very +difficult boy to find when he took it into his head to hide himself. + +Flower had not been on the moor since that dreadful day when she had +taken the baby away. So much had happened since then, so many dreadful +things had come to pass, that she shuddered at the bare thought of the +great and desolate moorland. Nevertheless she guessed that David would +hide there, and without a moment's hesitation turned her steps in the +direction of Peg-Top Moor. She had walked for nearly half an hour, and +had reached rather a broad extent of table-land, when she saw--their +little figures plainly visible against the sky--two children, nearly a +quarter of a mile away, eagerly talking together. There was not the +least doubt as to their identity; the children--a boy and a girl--were +David and Fly. Fly was holding David's arm, and gesticulating and +talking eagerly; David's head was turned away. Flower quickened her +steps almost into a run. If only she could reach the two before they +parted; above all things, if she could reach them before David saw her! + +Alas and alas! she was too late for this. David suddenly pushed his +little companion a couple of feet away from him, and to all appearance +vanished into the solid ground. + +Fly, crying bitterly, began to run to meet Flower. Flower held out her +arms as the little girl approached. + +"What is it, Firefly? Tell me, has David confessed?" + +"Oh, what do you know about it, Flower? Oh, what am I to do, what am I +to do?" + +"You are to go quietly home," said Flower, speaking in a voice of +authority. "You are to go quietly home, and leave this matter in my +hands. I know all about it, and just what David has done. He has bound +you by a sort of oath, you poor little thing--you dear, brave little +thing! Never mind, Fly; you leave David to me. I expect I shall find him +now--that is, if you don't keep me too long talking. Go home, and leave +matters to me." + +"But Flower--Flower, you do comfort me a little; but Flower, it will +soon be three o'clock, and then--and then--oh, dear father! Oh, it is +so dreadful!" + +"No, you silly mite; it is not dreadful at all. Polly is in charge of +the Doctor. She is sitting with him now, and the door is locked, and the +key is in Polly's pocket, and she has promised me not to open that door +to any one--no, Fly, not to a hundred of your Aunt Marias--until I +bring David home." + +Fly's face underwent a transformation. Her big eyes looked full up into +Flower's. A smile flitted across her quivering lips. With a sudden, +passionate gesture, she stooped down and kissed Flower's fingers, then +ran obediently back in the direction of Sleepy Hollow. + +"She is a perfect little darling!" said Flower to herself. "If Master +David does not rue it for making her suffer, my name is not Flower +Dalrymple." + +She ran on swiftly. She was always very quick and light in her +movements. Soon she came to the place where David had to all appearance +disappeared. She did not stay there long. She ran on to where the +bracken grew thick and long, then suddenly lay flat down on the ground, +and pressed her ear close to Mother Earth. What she heard did not +satisfy her. She rose again, repeating the same process several times. +Suddenly her eyes brightened; she raised her head, and listened +attentively, then she whistled a long peculiar note. There was no +answer, but Flower's face retained its watchful, intent expression. She +laid her head down once more close to the ground, and began to speak, +"David, David, I know you are there; there is no use in your hiding. +Come here, I want you, I, Flower. I will give you two minutes, David; if +you don't come then I'll keep the threat I made when you made me angry +with you at Ballarat." + +A perfect silence followed Flower's words. She still lay flat on the +ground. One of the minutes flew by. + +"I'll keep my word, David!" she said again. "You know me; you know what +my threat means. Three-quarters of a minute more, half a minute, then +I'll go home, and I'll do what I said I would do when you made me angry +at Ballarat." + +Again there was silence, but this time quickly broken; a boy's black +head appeared above the bracken, a little brown hand was held out, and +David, without troubling himself to move a hair's breadth, looked full +into his sister's face. + +"I don't want to lose you, Flower!" he said. "You are the only person in +all the world I care two-pence about. Now what's the row?" + +"You're a cowardly boy, David, and I'm ashamed of you; come with me this +minute." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +OH, FIE! POLLY. + + +While these events were taking place, and the children in their various +ways were preparing checkmate for Aunt Maria Cameron, that good lady +was having a by no means unexciting experience of her own. After her +housekeeping cares were over, after she had interviewed Mrs. Power, and +made Alice thoroughly uncomfortable; after, in short, meaning it all the +while for the best, she had succeeded in jarring the whole household +machinery to the utmost, it was her custom morning after morning to +retire with Scorpion into the seldom used drawing-room, and there, +seated comfortably in an old-fashioned arm-chair, with her feet well +supported on a large cushion, and the dog on her lap, to devote herself +to worsted work. Not crewel work, not church embroidery, not anything +which would admit of the use of modern art colors, but genuine, +old-fashioned worsted work. Mrs. Cameron delighted in the flaring +scarlets, pinks, greens, blues, and mauves of thirty years ago. She +admired with all her soul the hard, staring flowers which these colors +produced. They looked, she said, substantial and durable. They _looked_ +like artificial flowers; nobody could mistake them for the real article, +which was occasionally known to be the case with that flimsy, in her +opinion, ugly, art embroidery. No, no, Mrs. Cameron would not be smitten +by the art craze. "Let nature _be_ nature!" she would say, "and worsted +work be worsted work, and don't let us try to clash the poor things into +one, as that wretched art-school is always endeavoring to do." So each +morning Mrs. Cameron plied her worsted needle, and Scorpion slumbered +peacefully on her knee. She liked to sit with her back to the light, so +that it should fall comfortably on her work, and her own eyes be +protected from an extensive and very beautiful view of the south moor. + +Mrs. Cameron hated the moor; it gave her, as she expressed it, "the +creeps," and on all occasions she avoided looking at it. On this +morning, as usual, she took out her large roll of worsted work, and +prepared to ground a huge, impossible arum lily. Her thoughts, however, +were not, as usual, with her work. Her cheeks were flushed, and her +whole face expressed annoyance and anxiety. + +"How I miss even his dear little playful bite!" she said aloud, a big +tear falling on her empty lap. "Ah, my Scorpion! why did I love you, but +to lose you? How true are the poet's words: + +'I never loved a dear gazelle.' + +Well, I must say it, I seldom came across more wicked, heartless +children than the Maybrights and Daisy Rymple. David is really the only +one of the bunch worth rearing. Ah, my poor sister! your removal has +doubtless spared you many sorrows, for what could you expect of the +future of such a family as yours? Now, what is that? This moor is enough +to keep anybody's nerves in a state of tension. What _is_ that awful +sound approaching the house?" + +The noise in question was the unmistakable one of a woman's loud +sobbing. It came nearer and nearer, gaining in fullness and volume as it +approached the house. + +Mrs. Cameron was always intensely curious. She threw open the +drawing-room window; and as the sufferer approached, effectually stopped +her progress with her own stout person. + +"Now, my dear, good creature, what is this most unpleasant sound? Don't +you know that it is frightfully bad-mannered to cry in that loud, +unrestrained fashion? Pray restrain yourself. You are quite childish. +You cannot know what real affliction means. Now, if you had lost +a--a---- If, my poor woman, you had lost a dear little dog!" + +"Is it a dog?" gasped Mrs. Ricketts, for it was she. "Is it a dog? Oh, +my word! Much you know about 'flictions and such-like! Let me go to the +house, ma'am. It isn't to you as I has come to tell my tale." + +"Then let me inform you that you are going to tell it to no one else. +Here I stand, and here I remain until you choose to explain to me the +reason of your loud bursts of uncontrollable grief. During the illness +of its master I am the mistress here, and either you speak to me or you +go home." + +Mrs. Ricketts had by this time so far restrained her sobs as to be able +to take a long and very acute glance at the lady in question. Doubtless +she was face to face with the formidable Mrs. Cameron, that terrible +personage who had got her Maggie dismissed, and who had locked up poor +darling Miss Polly for days in her bedroom. + +There was no one, perhaps, in the world whom Mrs. Ricketts more +cordially disliked than this good lady, but all the same, it was now her +policy to propitiate her. She smoothed, therefore, her brow, dried her +eyes, and, with a profound courtesy, began her tale. + +"Ef you please, ma'am, it's this way; it's my character that's at stake. +I always was, and always will be, honest of the honest. 'Ard I works, +ma'am, and the bread of poverty I eats, but honest I am, and honest I +brings up those fatherless lambs, my children." + +Mrs. Cameron waved one of her fat hands impressively. + +"Pardon me, my good woman. I am really not interested in your family. +Pray come to the point, and then go home." + +"To the p'int, ma'am? Oh, yes, I'll come to the p'int. This is the p'int +ef you please, ma'am," and she suddenly thrust, almost into Mrs. +Cameron's dazzled face, the splendid gleam and glitter of a large unset +diamond. "This is the p'int, ma'am; this is what's to take my character +away, and the bread out of the mouths of my innocent children." + +Mrs. Cameron never considered herself a worldly woman. She was +undoubtedly a very Christian-minded, charitable, good woman, but all the +same, she loved fine houses and big dinners and rich apparel, and above +all things she adored jewelry. Flowers--that is, natural flowers--had +never yet drawn a smile out of her. She had never pined for them or +valued them, but jewels, ah! they were worth possessing. She quite +gasped now, as she realized the value of the gem which Mrs. Ricketts so +unceremoniously thrust under her nose. + +"A diamond! Good gracious! How did you come by it? A most valuable +diamond of extraordinary size. Give it to me this moment, my good dear +creature! and come into the drawing-room. You can step in by this open +window. We won't be disturbed in here. I suppose you were weeping in +that loud and violent manner at the thought of the grief of the person +who had lost this treasure?" + +"No, ma'am, I were a sobbing at the grief of her what _'ad_ it. Oh, my +word! And the young lady said for sure as I'd get nine-and-fourpence +halfpenny for it. No, ma'am, I won't go into the 'ouse, thank you. Oh, +dear! oh, dear! the young lady did set store by it, and said for certain +I'd get my nine-and-fourpence halfpenny back, but when I took the stone +to the shop to-day, and asked the baker to give me some bread and let +this go partly to pay the account, he stared at me and said as I wasn't +honest, and he thrust it back in my hand. Oh, dearie me! oh, dearie me! +the foreign young lady shouldn't have done it!" + +"_I_ am very sure that you're honest, my good creature! Now, do tell me +about this stone. How did you come by it?" + +"It was the young lady, ma'am; the young lady from Australia." + +"Daisy Rymple, do you mean?" + +"Miss Flower she called herself, ma'am. She come to me in sore plight +late one evening, when we was all in bed, and 'Mrs. Ricketts,' said she, +dear lamb, 'will you help me to go away to Mrs. Cameron, to Bath? I want +the money to go third class to Bath. Can you let me have nine shillings +and fourpence halfpenny, Mrs. Ricketts? and I'll give you this for the +money!' and she flashed that bit of a glittering stone right up into my +eyes. My word, I thought as I was blinded by it. 'You'll get most like +two pounds for it, Mrs. Ricketts,' she said, 'for my father told me it +was worth a sight of money.' That's how I come by it, ma'am, and that's +the way I was treated about it to-day." + +Mrs. Cameron slowly drew out her purse. + +"I will give you two sovereigns for the stone!" she said. "There, take +them and go home, and say nothing about the money. It will be the worse +for you if you do; now go quickly home." + +Mrs. Ricketts' broad face was one glow of delight. She dropped another +courtesy, and tried to articulate some words of thanks, but Mrs. Cameron +had already disappeared into the drawing-room, where she now sat, +holding the diamond in the palm of her open hand. + +She knew enough about precious stones to guess at something of its +probable value. The idea of in this way possessing herself of Flower's +diamond never for a moment entered her head, but she was worldly-minded +enough to wish that it could be her own, and she could not help owning +to a feeling of satisfaction, even to a sense of compensation for the +loss of Scorpion, while she held the beautiful glittering thing in her +open palm. + +Even Flower rose in her estimation when she found that she had possessed +a gem so brilliant. A girl who could have such a treasure and so lightly +part with it was undoubtedly a simpleton--but she was a simpleton who +ought to be guarded and prized--the sort of young innocent who should +be surrounded by protecting friends. Mrs. Cameron felt her interest in +Flower growing and growing. Suppose she offered to release the Doctor of +this wearisome burden. Suppose she undertook the care of Flower and her +diamond herself. + +No sooner did this thought occur to Mrs. Cameron, than she resolved to +act upon it. Of course the Doctor would be delighted to part with +Flower. She would see him on the subject at once. + +She went slowly upstairs and knocked with a calm, steady hand at the +door of the dressing-room which opened into Dr. Maybright's apartment. +No sound or reply of any kind came from within. She listened for a +moment, then knocked again, then tried to turn the handle of the door. +It resisted her pressure, being locked from within. + +Mrs. Cameron raised her voice. She was not a person who liked to be +opposed, and that locked door, joined to that most exasperating silence, +became more than trying. Surely the Doctor was not deaf as well as +blind. Surely he must hear her loud demands, even though a dressing-room +stood between his room and the suppliant without. + +And surely the Doctor would have heard, for a more polite man never +lived, were it not for that all mischievous and irrepressible Polly. But +she, being left in charge, had set her sharp brains to work, and had +devised a plan to outwit Mrs. Cameron. The dressing-room in question +contained a double baize door. This door was seldom or never used, but +it came in very conveniently now, for the furtherance of Polly's plan. +When it was shut, and thick curtains also drawn across, and when, in +addition, the door leading into Dr. Maybright's room was securely +fastened and curtained off, Polly felt sure that she and her father +might pass their morning in delicious quietude. Not hearing Mrs. +Cameron, she argued with herself that no one _could_ possibly blame her +for not letting her in. Therefore, in high good humor, this young lady +sat down to read, work, and chatter gayly. As the Doctor listened, he +said to himself that surely there never was in the world a sweeter or +more agreeable companion than his Polly. + +With all her precautions, however, as the hours flew by, sundry muffled +and distant sounds did penetrate to the sick chamber. + +"What a peculiar noise!" remarked the Doctor. + +"Can it be mice?" queried Polly's _most_ innocent voice. + +More time passed. + +Suddenly the sharp and unmistakable sound of gravel being flung against +the window forced the young lady to go to ascertain what was the matter. + +On looking out, she saw what caused her to utter an amazed exclamation. + +Mrs. Cameron, very red in the face, and holding the lost Scorpion in one +encircling arm, while the other was thrown firmly round a most +sulky-looking David; Firefly, pale and with traces of tears on her face; +Flower, looking excited and eager--all stood under the window. This +group were loud in demanding instant admission to the Doctor's room. + +"What is it, what is it?" questioned the patient from the bed. + +"Oh, you are _not_ strong enough to see them, father." + +"To see whom?" + +"Aunt Maria--Scorpion--the children." + +"Yes, I am quite strong enough. Let them come up at once." + +"But father!" + +"But Polly! You don't suppose seriously that your Aunt Maria can disturb +my equanimity?" + +"Oh! She will worry you with so many tales." + +"About my very naughty family?" + +"Yes, yes; you had much better not see her." + +"Because she wants me to get a chaperon for you?" + +"Oh! yes--oh! don't see her." + +"My dear, you can trust me; you happen to be _my_ children, not hers. I +would rather have the matter out. I knew there was something wrong from +the way little Fly kissed my hand this morning. Show the deputation +outside the window into the audience chamber at once, Polly." + +So admonished, the curtains had to be drawn back, the baize door +reopened, and Polly--a most unwilling hostess--had to receive her +guests. But no words can describe the babel of sounds which there and +then filled the Doctor's room; no words can tell how patiently the blind +man listened. + +Aunt Maria had a good tale to tell, and it lost nothing in the telling. +The story of Scorpion's disappearance; of the wickedness of David and +Fly; of the recovering of the little animal from the man who had bought +it, through Flower's instrumentality; all this she told, following up +with the full and particular history of the sale of a valuable diamond. +At last--at long last--the good lady stopped for want of breath. + +There was a delicious pause, then the Doctor said, quietly: + +"In short, Maria, you have never come across such absolutely wicked +children as the Maybrights and Dalrymples?" + +"No, Andrew--never! never!" + +"It is lucky they are not your children?" + +"Thank Heaven!" + +"Would it not be well to leave them to me? I am accustomed to them." + +"Yes; I wash my hands of you all; or no--not quite of you all--I heap +coals of fire on your head, Andrew; I offer to relieve you of the charge +of Daisy Rymple." + +"Of Flower?--but she is one of the worst of us." + +Here Flower ran over, crouched down by the Doctor, and put one of her +hands into his. + +"But I will be good with you," she said with a half-sob. + +"Hear her," said the Doctor. "She says she will be good with me. +Perhaps, after all, Maria, I _can_ manage my own children better than +any one else can." + +"Daisy is not your child--you had better give her to me." + +"I can't part with Flower; she is an excellent reader. I am a blind man, +but she scarcely allows me to miss my eyes." + +Flower gave a low ecstatic sob. + +"And you will allow her to part with valuable gems like this?" + +"Thanks to you, Maria, she has recovered her diamond." + +"Andrew, I never met such an obstinate, such a misguided man! Are you +really going to bring up these unfortunate children without a chaperon?" + +"I think you must allow us to be good _and_ naughty in our own way." + +"Father is looking very tired, Aunt Maria," here whispered Polly. + +"My dear, _I_ am never going to fatigue him more. Andrew, I wash my +hands of your affairs. Daisy, take your diamond. At least, my little +precious dog, I have recovered _you_. We return to Bath by the next +train." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +ONE YEAR AFTER. + + +"Helen, here's a letter." + +"Yes. Who is it for?" + +"I think it's for us all. See: 'the Misses Maybright and Miss +Dalrymple.'" + +"Well, where's Flower? We can't open it till Flower comes down. It must +be--yes, it must be about father! You know it was yesterday his eyes +were to be operated on." + +"As if I didn't know it, Nell! I never closed my eyes last night. I felt +nearly as bad as that awful day a year ago now. I wish I might tear open +this envelope. Where is Flower? Need we wait for her?" + +"It would be unkind not to wait! No one feels about father as Flower +does." + +"David, please call her this instant!" + +David flew out of the room, and Polly began to finger the precious +letter. + +"It's thick," she said; "but I don't think there's much writing inside. +Yes," she continued, "Flower is certainly very sensitive about father. +She's a dear girl. All the same, I'm sometimes jealous of her." + +"Oh, dear Polly! why?" + +"Father thinks so much of her. Yes, I know it's wrong, but I do feel a +little sore now and then. Not often though, and never when I look into +Flower's lovely eyes." + +"She is very sweet with father," said Helen. "It seems to me that during +this past year she has given up her very life to him. And did you ever +hear any one read better?" + +"No, that's one of the reasons why I'm devoured with jealousy. Don't +talk to me about it, it's an enemy I haven't yet learnt to overcome. Ah! +here she comes." + +"_And_ Fly, _and_ the twins!" echoed Helen. "Here's a letter from +father, Flower. At least, we think so. It's directed to us and to you." + +A tall, very fair girl, with soft, shining eyes, and a wonderful mane of +yellow hair came up and put her arm round Polly's neck. She did not +smile, her face was grave, her voice shook a little. + +"Open the letter, Helen," she exclaimed impatiently. + +"Don't tremble so, Flower," said Polly. + +But she herself only remained quiet by a great effort, as Helen +unfastened the thick envelope, opened the sheet of paper, and held it up +for many eager pairs of eyes to read: + + "My Children:--I see again, thank God. + "Your Father and loving Friend." + +"There!" said Polly. "Oh, I can't talk about it. Flower, you are silly +to cry. Will no one dance a hornpipe with me? I'll choke if I don't +laugh. You're the one to dance, Fly. Why, you are crying, too. +Ridiculous! Where's the letter? Let's kiss it all round. That'll make us +better. His own blessed writing! Isn't he a darling? Was there ever such +a father?" + +"Or such a friend?" exclaimed Flower. "I said long ago, and I say again +now, that he's the best man in the world, and I do really think that +some day he'll turn me into a good girl." + +"Why, you're the nicest girl I know now," said Polly. + +And then they kissed each other. + + THE END + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +Transcriber's Notes +------------------- + +1. Punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards. + +2. Frontispiece relocated to after title page. + +3. Typographic errors corrected in original: + p. 7 aways to always ("always did think") + p. 8 breat-and-butter to bread-and-butter + p. 102 nuseries to nurseries ("to the nurseries") + p. 154 by to my ("jealous of my influence") + p. 159 life to like ("looked like artificial flowers") + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Polly, by L. T. 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