diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 3359542 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/36431-h.htm | 7510 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch1.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60587 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch10b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 111022 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch11b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 74436 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch12b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 79376 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch2b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 45389 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch3b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 44924 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch4b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 99055 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch5b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50654 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch6b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 107077 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch7b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 76559 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch8b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 83446 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/ch9b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 104556 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/frontis.jpg | bin | 0 -> 387803 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img011b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 114784 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img045.jpg | bin | 0 -> 181362 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img061b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 94735 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img103.jpg | bin | 0 -> 168771 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img127b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 118246 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img145.jpg | bin | 0 -> 305296 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img147.jpg | bin | 0 -> 309731 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img181.jpg | bin | 0 -> 130409 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img200b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 189046 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img218b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 76118 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img276b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 134740 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/img285a.jpg | bin | 0 -> 103183 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431-h/images/tp2.jpg | bin | 0 -> 76814 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431.txt | 4973 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 36431.zip | bin | 0 -> 91131 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
33 files changed, 12499 insertions, 0 deletions
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/36431-h.zip b/36431-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5a992d4 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h.zip diff --git a/36431-h/36431-h.htm b/36431-h/36431-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..509cbb5 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/36431-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7510 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Palace in the Garden by Mrs. Molesworth.</title> +<style type="text/css"> + body {background:#fdfdfd; + color:black; + font-size: large; + margin-top:100px; + margin-left:15%; + margin-right:15%; + text-align:justify; } + h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 {text-align: center; } + hr.minimal { width: 25%; + text-align: center; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; } + hr { width: 100%; } + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 3px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + blockquote.med { font-size: medium; margin-left: 4%; margin-right: 4% } + table {font-size: large; } + table.sm {font-size: medium; } + p {text-indent: 3%; } + p.noindent { text-indent: 0%; } + .caption { font-size: small; + font-weight: bold; } + .center { text-align: center; } + img { border: 0; } + .figleft { float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-top: + 0em; margin-right: 0.5em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + .figright { float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 0em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + .ind1 { margin-left: 1em; } + .ind2 { margin-left: 2em; } + .ind6 { margin-left: 6em; } + .nowrap { white-space: nowrap; } + .right { text-align: right; } + .small { font-size: 80%; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red; + text-decoration: underline; } + pre {font-size: 70%; } +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Palace in the Garden, by Mary Louisa Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Palace in the Garden + +Author: Mary Louisa Molesworth + +Illustrator: Harriet M. Bennett + +Release Date: June 15, 2011 [EBook #36431] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PALACE IN THE GARDEN *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<h5>THE</h5> +<h2>PALACE IN THE GARDEN.</h2> +<p> </p> +<h5>BY</h5> +<h2>MRS. MOLESWORTH,</h2> +<h6>AUTHOR OF "CARROTS," "SILVERTHORNS," "FOUR WINDS FARM," ETC.</h6> +<p> </p> + +<div class="center"> +<p class="noindent"><i>ILLUSTRATED BY HARRIET M. BENNETT</i></p> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/tp2.jpg"> + <img src="images/tp2.jpg" height="280" + alt="TIB, GERALD AND GUSSIE" /></a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p> </p> +<h5>LONDON:<br /><br /> +HATCHARDS, PICCADILLY.</h5> +<h5>1887.</h5> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="Contents"> +<tr><th colspan="2" align="center">CONTENTS</th></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_1">CHAPTER I.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>WE THREE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_2">CHAPTER II.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>THE SCORED-OUT NAME</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_3">CHAPTER III.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>"ROSEBUDS"</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_4">CHAPTER IV.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>THE DOOR IN THE GARDEN WALL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_5">CHAPTER V.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>WHAT GERALD FOUND </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_6">CHAPTER VI.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>OPEN, SESAME </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_7">CHAPTER VII.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>GRANDPAPA'S SECRETARY </td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_8">CHAPTER VIII.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>STEPPED OUT OF THE FRAME</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_9">CHAPTER IX.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>OUR FAIRY</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_10">CHAPTER X.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>THREE STARLINGS</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_11">CHAPTER XI.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>BROTHER AND SISTER</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right" valign="top"><a href="#ch_12">CHAPTER XII.</a></td><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>THE STORY OF THE OLD HOUSE</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h4>THE</h4> +<h2>PALACE IN THE GARDEN.</h2> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_1" id="ch_1"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3> +<h4>WE THREE.</h4> + +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="center">"Sisters and brothers, little maid,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center">How many may you be?"</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 90px;"> +<img src="images/ch1.jpg" width="90" alt="I" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">think the best beginning +is the morning +that grandpapa sent for +us to come down to the +study. Tib and Gerald, +don't think so. They +say I should begin by +telling our names, and +how old we were, and +all that—at least, Gerald says so; Tib isn't +quite sure. Tib very often isn't quite sure. +She has got too grand ideas, and if she +were going to write a story, she would +make it like poetry, very difficult to understand, +and awfully long words, and lots +about feelings and sorrows and mysteries. +I like mysteries, too—I think they are very +interesting, and I <i>have</i> one to tell about, +as you will see, only I must tell it my own +way, and after all, as this story is only to be +read by Tib and Gerald—and our children—we +have settled that when we are all +three grown-up and married, and have +children, it shall be made into a book for +them—I daresay it doesn't much matter +how it is told.</div> + +<p>Well, that morning we were all poking +our heads as far as we dared out of the +school-room window—Miss Evans hadn't yet +come—to see the first primrose man that +had passed that year. We heard his "All +a blowing, all a growing," far off down +the street, but we hadn't yet seen him and +his basket with the beautiful light yellow +bunches at the top, and we were wondering +if we could get Fanny to run out and +buy us twopence-worth, when Bland stuck +his solemn and rather crabbed-looking +face in at the door. +Bland is grandpapa's +"own man," +as they say, +and his +name +doesn't +suit +him +at all—at +least, it didn't then—he's not so bad now +we're older.</p> +<div><img class="figright" src="images/img011b.jpg" height="180" alt="BY THE WINDOW" /></div> +<p>"Young ladies and Master Gerald," he +said, "my master wishes you all to come +down stairs to speak to him before he goes +out."</p> + +<p>Down we all tumbled from the window-sill. +Tib and I began smoothing our aprons +and tugging at each other's hair—grandpapa +was very particular. Gerald only looked at +his hands.</p> + +<p>"They are rather dirty," he said seriously. +"But I did wash them so very well this +morning, and it's not ten o'clock yet. Do +you think, Gussie<span class="nowrap">——</span>?"</p> + +<p>I knew what he was going to say, so I cut +him short.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do think you'd better run and +wash them <i>at once</i>—why, you might have +had them done by now—they are just +perfectly grimy."</p> + +<p>For Gerald would any day talk for ten +minutes about why he <i>needn't</i> wash his +hands rather than run off and do them. I +am afraid he was rather a dirty little boy—he'll +be very angry if he sees that, for he is now +getting to be very particular indeed—for +though he liked bathing in the sea, he +would do anything to avoid washing—regular +good soapy washing. But he was +too afraid of grandpapa to stand out when +I said his hands were as bad as "grimy;" +so off he went.</p> + +<p>"Are we to come down at once?" asked +Tib.</p> + +<p>"Yes, miss. Your grandpapa has ordered +the brougham to be round in ten minutes," +Bland graciously informed us as Gerald +started off.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what it's about?" said Tib. +"I hope he's not vexed with us."</p> + +<p>For it wasn't often that grandpapa sent +for us in the morning, except on birthdays +or Christmas Day, when he had presents +for us. He never forgot about that, I +must say.</p> + +<p>"Why should he be vexed with us?" I +said. "We've not done anything naughty;" +for Tib was standing there with the tears +on their way to her big blue eyes, as I +could see quite well—and I've no patience +with people who look as if they had been +naughty when they haven't.</p> + +<p>"Well, you go in first, then, Gussie," said +Tib. "I wish I wasn't frightened, but I +can't help it."</p> + +<p>By this time we were on the stairs, not +far from the study door, and Gerald had +run after us, with very red shiny paws, you +may be sure, and in another moment we +were all three in "the august presence," as +Tib called it afterwards.</p> + +<p>Grandpapa had just finished his breakfast. +He used often to have it like that, +just on a little tray in the study. It didn't +look very comfortable, and he might quite +as well have had it in the dining-room +all nicely set out, and Tib and me to pour +out his coffee in turns. But he did not +think of it, I suppose, and at that time I +don't think we did, either. We had never +seen any other "ways;" we didn't know +how other families lived—families where +there were mammas, or any way grandmammas, +or aunts, as well as children, and +we were so young that we just took things +as we found them. I think children are +generally like that, especially if they see +very little outside their own homes.</p> + +<p>Grandpapa was not old-looking at all—not +the least like the pictures in old-fashioned +books of a very aged man, with +a gentle and rather silly face, and a white +beard, and a stick, sitting in a big arm-chair +by the fire, and patting a very curly-haired +grandchild on the head. I'm quite +sure grandpapa never patted any of us on +the head; and <i>now</i>, of course, we're too +big. But I didn't mind his not being like +the pictures of grandpapas, and now I mind +it still less, for I'm really proud of his being +so nice-looking. That morning I can remember +quite well how he looked as he +sat by the table, with the tray pushed +away, and a whole bundle of letters before +him. He glanced up at us as we came +trooping in, with his bright dark eyes and +a half smile on his face. We were not +very fond of that half smile of his: it +made it so difficult to tell if he was in +fun or earnest.</p> + +<p>"Well, young people," he said, "and how +does the wind blow this morning?"</p> + +<p>He looked at Gerald as he spoke. Gerald +was staring at his red hands.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, grandpapa," he said; and +then seeing that grandpapa's eyes were still +fixed on him, he got uncomfortable, and +tugged Tib, who was next him. "Tib +knows, p'r'aps," he said. "I'm only seven, +grandpapa."</p> + +<p>Grandpapa moved his eyes to Tib.</p> + +<p>"It strikes me," he said, "that you're +getting too big, young woman, to be spoken +of as if you were a kitten. You must call +your sister by her proper name, Gerald."</p> + +<p>"It's hard for him to say, grandpapa," +said Tib. "That's why Gussie and he +always say Tib, instead of Mercedes."</p> + +<p>"Umph!—yes—Tom-fool name!" said +grandpapa, which made me rather angry.</p> + +<p>"No, grandpapa, it's not a Tom-fool +name," I said. "It's Spanish; and it was +because our papa and mamma lived in +Spain that they called it her."</p> + +<p>I daresay I spoke pertly. Any way, I +was punished, for my words had the effect +of bringing the eyes upon me in my turn.</p> + +<p>"Called it her? called it her?" he +repeated slowly. "What English! Miss +Evans is to be congratulated on her success! +So Mercedes is a Spanish name, is +it? Thank you—thank you very much +indeed for the information. Now perhaps +you will all be good enough to listen to +some information from me."</p> + +<p>I had got very red while grandpapa was +speaking, quite as much from anger as from +shame, for I wasn't so easily put down as +Tib and Gerald; I had a quicker temper. +But when grandpapa spoke of having information +to give us, I felt so curious to +know what it could be that I tried to look +as if I hadn't minded what he said. So +he went on:</p> + +<p>"I'm going to send you all off to the +country next week; I don't want to keep +this house open. I am very busy, and I +would rather live at my club." Grandpapa +stopped a minute. I think he wanted to +see what we would say.</p> + +<p>"Are we to go to Ansdell Friars so +soon?" I said. I suppose I didn't seem +very pleased, and no more did Tib or +Gerald. It wasn't very long—only three +or four months—since we had come from +there, and there was nothing at Ansdell we +much cared about. We knew it all so well. +It was a regular big, grand country house; +but its bigness was not much good to us, as +we were strictly shut up in our own rooms, +and sharply scolded if we were found out +of them; and there was nothing amusing +or interesting there. The country is not +pretty, and the walks are not to be compared +with those at—never mind where; I +shall tell you the name of the place in a +little while. So we had no particular +reason for being glad to go back there; on +the whole, I think we liked London better. +We had less of Miss Evans in London, for +she only came every day; but at Ansdell +Friars she lived with us. Grandpapa had +persuaded her to do so, but she didn't like +it, and we didn't like it, so we were not +very happy together. She didn't like +children, and was only a governess because +she had to be, not because she liked it, and +she was always telling us so. I used to +think then all governesses were the same, +but I know better now. There are some +<i>awfully</i> nice, who really like teaching, and +aren't always scolding the children, as if it +was their own fault that they are children +and have to be taught.</p> + +<p>"And is Miss Evans coming?" said +Gerald, dolefully.</p> + +<p>"You are not going to Ansdell Friars at +all; and, I am sorry to say," grandpapa +went on, "Miss Evans is not able to go +with you. Nurse will have to look after +you till I can find another Miss Evans."</p> + +<p>Our faces fell, I have no doubt, at the +last sentence. Another Miss Evans! Still, +it was very nice to think there'd be <i>no</i> +Miss Evans for a while. Nurse looking +after us meant, as we knew very well, that +we should do pretty much as we liked; for +nurse spoiled us most horribly. It was a +very delightful prospect.</p> + +<p>"We'll try to be very good, grandpapa," +said Tib.</p> + +<p>"Umph!" said grandpapa.</p> + +<p>"And when are we going, please?" I +could not resist putting in. I was burning +with curiosity, and so, I am sure, were the +others, though they were afraid to ask. +Grandpapa looked at me.</p> + +<p>"Upon my word, Gustava," he said, "I +think you might give me time to tell you. +When I was young, children were not +allowed to cross-question their elders. You +are going to a little country house I have +which you have never seen nor heard of. +It is much nearer town than Ansdell Friars, +so I shall be able to come down every +now and then to see you, and to hear if +you are behaving properly. It is a much +smaller place than Ansdell—in fact, it's +quite a small house. But there's a good +garden; you will have plenty of space to +play in. Only I wish you to understand +one thing: there are other houses near—it +isn't like Ansdell, all alone in a park—and +neighbours, of course. Now, I won't +have you make friends with any one unless +I tell you you may. You are not to go +into other people's houses or to chatter to +strangers. Do you understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, grandpapa," we all three replied, +feeling rather frightened. I don't think +we did quite understand, for we never had +made friends with any one. We had lived +very solitary lives, without any companions +of our own age—for we had scarcely any +relations, and none that we knew anything +of. And as people don't miss what they +have never had, I don't think it would +ever have come into our heads to do what +grandpapa was so afraid of. He certainly +made us think more about other people +than we had ever done before.</p> + +<p>"What is the name of the place, +please, grandpapa?" asked Tib in her +soft voice.</p> + +<p>If it had been <i>me</i> that had asked it, he +would have snubbed me again. But it was +certainly true, as the servants all said, that +he favoured Tib the most. Perhaps it was +that she was so pretty—perhaps it was for +a reason that I can't tell just yet.</p> + +<p>"The name of the place," he repeated—"of +the house, I suppose you mean? The +name of the place does not matter to you. +You will not have to take your own tickets +at the station. The house has an absurd +name, but as it has always been called so, +it is no use thinking of changing it. It is +called 'Rosebuds.'"</p> + +<p>Grandpapa stood up as he spoke, and just +then Bland opened the door to announce +the carriage. So we all said good-bye to +him and trotted off. We knew we should +probably not see him again for two or +three days, but we were so used to it we +did not care; and we had plenty to +interest our minds and give us something +to talk of.</p> + +<p>"What a very pretty name 'Rosebuds' is," +Tib exclaimed, as soon as we were safely out +of hearing. "I'm sure it must be a very +pretty place to have such a name. I daresay +it's a white cottage, with beautiful +old-fashioned windows, and roses climbing +all over."</p> + +<p>"I don't like cottages with roses growing +over them," said Gerald. "There are always +witches living in cottages like that, in the +fairy tales. There is in <i>Snow-white and +Rose-red</i>."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Tib, "it would be rather +fun to have a witch at Rosebuds. I do +hope there'll be something interesting +and out of the common there—something +<i>romantic</i>." Tib said the last word +rather slowly. I don't think she was +quite sure how to say it, and I am +quite sure none of us knew what it +meant.</p> + +<p>"I hope there'll be nice hide-and-seek +places in the garden, and nice trees for +climbing up, and perhaps grassy hills for +rolling down," said I. "If grandpapa only +comes to see us now and then, and there's +no Miss Evans, and only old Liddy"—old +Liddy was nurse—"it <i>will</i> be very jolly. +I shouldn't wonder—I really shouldn't—if +it was more jolly than we've ever had +anything in our lives—more like how the +children in story-books are, you know, +Tib."</p> + +<p>For about this time we had begun to +read a good deal more to ourselves, and +among the old books in grandpapa's library +we had found a nest which contained great +treasures; many of the volumes had belonged +to our father when he was a boy, +and some even had been grandpapa's own +childish books. Grandpapa had given us +leave to read them, and you can fancy what +a treat it was to us, who had had so little +variety in our lives, to get hold of <i>Holiday +House</i>, and the <i>Swiss Family Robinson</i>, +and the <i>Parent's Assistant</i>, and best of +all perhaps, the dearest little shabby, +dumpy, dark-brown book of real old-fashioned +fairy tales. I have it still—no +shabbier for all our thumbing of it: it is +so strongly bound, though it is so plain +and dingy-looking, and I mean to keep it +for my children.</p> + +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/frontis.jpg"> + <img src="images/frontis.jpg" height="400" + alt="FRONTISPIECE" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <span class="caption">Click to <a href="images/frontis.jpg">ENLARGE</a><br /> +<i>Among the old books we had found great treasures.</i></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p>"But grandpapa said he was going +to find another Miss Evans, Gussie," +said Gerald.</p> + +<p>"Never mind. She isn't found yet; and +I don't believe there <i>could</i> be another quite +as bad as this one," I said, consolingly.</p> + +<p>But a brilliant idea struck Tib. She +stopped short on the top step but one—we +were climbing up stairs by this +time—before the school-room landing, and +turned round so as to face us two—Gerald +and me.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, Gussie and Gerald," she +said: "suppose we were to be very, just +<i>dreadfully</i> good at our lessons for a little, +don't you think it <i>might</i> make Miss Evans +tell grandpapa that she really thought we +should be the better for a holiday. I +should think even <i>she</i> would like to +do something good-natured before she +left."</p> + +<p>Gerald and I stood listening. It was a +grave matter, and we did not want to +commit ourselves hastily.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean being very quiet in the +school-room, never whispering to each +other, or making even the least little bit +of funny faces when she's not looking? or +do you mean doing our lessons for her +just awfully well?"</p> + +<p>"Both," said Tib, solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't think I <i>could</i>," I replied. "It +is so very nice to be naughty sometimes."</p> + +<p>"But, Gussie," said Gerald, "any way, +you might settle to do our lessons terribly +well. Don't you see, if we did them +quite well Miss Evans might think we +knew everything, and she might tell grandpapa +we didn't need to learn anything +more."</p> + +<p>"And you might settle to be naughty +with <i>us</i> or with Liddy," said Tib, persuasively. +"Gerald and I will promise not +to mind, won't we, Gerald? And we'll +explain to Liddy."</p> + +<p>"I'll think about it," was all I could +say.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_2" id="ch_2"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3> +<h4>THE SCORED-OUT NAME.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"How new life reaps what the old life did sow."</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="smallcaps">Edwin Arnold.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/ch2b.jpg" width="100" alt="I" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">was the naughty +one of the family. +I dare say you—whoever +you are—that +are going +to read this will +have found this +out already, and +it was best to make +it plain at the beginning. +Tib and Gerald were really very +good—at least, they would have been +if I had let them. But still, as I used +often to say to them as a sort of a make-up +for the troubles I got them into, it +<i>would</i> have been rather dull work had we +all three been extra good. And even the +great thing that I have to write about, +<i>the</i> thing that put it into my head to +write at all, would never have come but +for our being in a way naughty—that is +very queer, isn't it? To think that good +and nice things should sometimes come out +of being naughty! I have often puzzled +about it. I think it must be that there +are different kinds of naughtiness—<i>perfectly</i> +different—for nothing good could +come out of real, wicked naughtiness—telling +lies, or being cruel to each other, +or things like that; but the sort of naughtiness +of just being mischievous, and of being +so bubbling over with the niceness of being +alive, that you <i>can't</i> keep quiet, and +remember about not knocking things over +and tearing yourself, and the naughtiness +of hating your lessons on a beautiful day, +when it's really too tempting out-of-doors—all +these kinds of naughtiness and +lots of others I could tell you, for I've +thought so much about it—all these kinds +are different, surely? And one can fancy +good and nice things coming out of them +without getting one's ideas muddled. +That's one thing I'm going to be very +particular about with my children—I'm +going to explain to them <i>well</i> about the +two kinds of being naughty, so that they +won't get all into a puzzle about it. I +think I even shall settle to have two +kinds of words for them; for I do know, +I am sorry to say, what it is to be really +naughty too. Just a few times in my life I +can remember the dreadful feeling of real, +boiling anger at some one—I had it several +times to Miss Evans, and once or twice +to—no, I won't say; it's all so different +now. And <i>once</i> I told what wasn't true, +quite knowing all about it. But I <i>never</i> +did it again. The horribleness of the +feeling was too bad, and in <i>that</i> way my +naughtiness did me good!</div> + +<p>Our plan for getting Miss Evans to help +us to a holiday hadn't much chance, as you +shall hear.</p> + +<p>When we got to the school-room we found +she hadn't come, though it was a quarter +to ten, and she generally came at half-past +nine.</p> + +<p>"Everything seems going topsy-turvy +to-day," said I, seating myself on the high +guard, and swinging my feet about. It +was a very dangerous seat, as the guard +was anything but steady, and if it toppled +over, there was no saying but that you +might be landed in the middle of the fire. +"Miss Evans late—and us going away to a +place we never heard of before! It's almost +as nice as if the sun had forgotten to get up—what +fun that would be!"</p> + +<p>"I don't think that would be fun at all," +said Gerald. "I'd much rather he should +forget to go to bed some night. Which +would you rather, Tib?"</p> + +<p>But Tib wasn't listening. She was pressing +her face against the window, her +thoughts intent upon primroses again.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she said; "I'm sure I heard +him. He can't be far off yet, or else it's +another man. Listen." And as she held +up her finger there came softly through the +distance again the "All a growing, all a +blowing."</p> + +<p>"I wonder why things seem so much +prettier far off," said Tib, thoughtfully. +But just then the cry came again, and this +time unmistakably nearer. Off darted Tib. +"I will try to get Fanny to catch him," she +said; and in five minutes she was back +again in triumph.</p> + +<p>"Fanny wasn't to be found, of course," +she said. "But that good Liddy poked up +the little page-boy—he's new, so he hasn't +learnt to be impudent yet—and sent him +down the street. We shall have the primroses +directly. Oh, I say, Gussie and +Gerald"—and Tib flung herself down on +the hearth-rug, and rolled herself over, as if +she were on a lawn of beautiful fresh grass—"just +fancy if we were in the country, +and could gather primroses for ourselves—as +many as ever we wanted. <i>Wouldn't</i> it +be lovely?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we may—perhaps they won't +be over when we go to that place," said +Gerald.</p> + +<p>"I wonder when exactly we shall go?" I +said. And then our thoughts all returned +to Rosebuds, and what our grandfather +had said about it.</p> + +<p>"I wonder why he doesn't want us to +make friends with any of the neighbours?" +I said. "I think it's rather crabby of him. +There may be some nice children there, and +we never have any playfellows."</p> + +<p>"I suppose he's got some reason for it," +said Tib. "Perhaps the people who live +there are all very common. You know, +grandpapa is right to be particular about +us."</p> + +<p>"I don't think it is that. I think he +has some other reason. Tib, do you know," +I exclaimed, as a curious idea flashed across +my mind, "I have an idea that<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>But I was interrupted before I could say +more by the entrance of old Liddy, bringing +the primroses. They were not very big +bunches, but they were very sweet and +fresh, and we all sniffed at them in a way +that must have astonished the poor things. +Nurse smiled at us.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see you gathering them for +yourselves, my dears," she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, we shall, perhaps, if we go to the +country so soon. Do you know that place +where we're going to, Liddy?" asked Tib.</p> + +<p>She shook her head—she had come to us +from mamma's family, and she didn't know +much about the Ansdells.</p> + +<p>"No, Miss Tib. I never heard of it till +your grandpapa told me last night about +getting you ready. And that reminds me—Bland +told me just now that his master +forgot to say Miss Evans wouldn't be coming +to-day."</p> + +<p>"Miss Evans not coming to-day!" we all +three exclaimed in the greatest astonishment, +for it must be confessed Miss Evans was +the most exact person possible. "Is she +never coming any more, Liddy?"</p> + +<p>Nurse shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Nay, my dear, how should I know? I +only heard what Bland said. Miss Evans +isn't coming with us to the country, master +said."</p> + +<p>"But he's going to get another," said +Gerald. "Will she be just <i>exactly</i> the +same—will she have a big freckle on her +cheek, and will she nip up her mouth the +same, do you think, nursey?"</p> + +<p>We all burst out laughing at poor +Gerald.</p> + +<p>"It would quite spoil Rosebuds to have +the big freckle there," said Tib. "But, +nursey, do you know grandpapa says we're +not to make any friends there, and not to +know anybody?"</p> + +<p>This time Liddy nodded her head.</p> + +<p>"I know, my dears. Well, it can't be +helped. It'll be no duller for you there +than at Ansdell Friars, any way, and it's a +beautiful country for walks, cook says. She +comes from somewhere that way."</p> + +<p>"But why does grandpapa not want us +to know anybody there—do you know, +nursey? Does cook know, perhaps?"</p> + +<p>Liddy looked uncomfortable.</p> + +<p>"My dears, there may be reasons for +many things that you're too young to understand," +she said. "If your grandpapa +had wanted to give his reasons to you, he'd +have done so himself; and if he didn't wish +to give you any, it would ill become me to +be telling you over any fancies or chatter I +might hear about master's affairs."</p> + +<p>Tib's eyes grew very round.</p> + +<p>"I do believe there's a mystery," she said. +"Oh, how beautiful! Nursey, I'm sure you +know something. What fun it would be if +there was really a mystery, and if we were +to find it out. Gussie, do listen."</p> + +<p>But I wouldn't listen just that minute. +The thought which had been put out of my +mind by nurse coming in with the primroses +had come back again.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute, Tib," I said, "I've got +an idea. I'm only going down to the library +to fetch a book. I may go as Miss Evans +isn't coming;" and off I flew.</p> + +<p>The library was not a large room—indeed, +it was a good deal smaller than grandpapa's +study—but it held a great many books. It +was nothing but books, for there were shelves +all round it, packed as close as they could +hold. In one corner were all the books that +grandpapa allowed us to read. He had +shown them to us himself, and simply told +us we might read any of them we liked, +provided we always put them back again in +their places, but that we mustn't ever take +any other books without asking his leave. +That was one thing grandpapa was very nice +about; though he was so cold and strict, he +always trusted us, and never doubted our +words. I'm sure that is the best way to +make children quite truthful. Except that +one time I've told you of, I don't remember +any of us telling a story. It didn't seem +to come into our heads to do so—we had +been with grandpapa ever since we could +remember, and he had always been the same. +We had never known what it was to be +loved or petted, except by Liddy, for both +papa and mamma had died of a fever in +Spain, and we had been sent home with old +nurse. (I suppose I should have explained +this at the beginning; but it doesn't +matter.)</p> + +<p>Well, I ran down to the library and went +straight to our own corner. They were +funny-looking books—mostly rather shabby, +for they had been children's books for two, +and some of them for three, generations. +It took me a little while to find the one I +was in search of; indeed, I wasn't quite +sure which it was, and I had to take out +several, and open them to see the page at +the beginning before I got the right one. +It was a small book; the name of it was +<i>Ornaments Discovered</i>, and on the first leaf +was written the name of the person it had +belonged to. There were two names, but +the first had been so scored through that one +could only distinguish the first letter of it, +which was "R," and the second name was +our name and grandpapa's name, "Ansdell." +And lower down on the page was the date, +and the name of a place just above it. But +this name also had been scored through, +only not so blackly as the other, so that it +was still easy to make out that it was that +of the house we were going to live at: +"Rosebuds."</p> + +<p>I remembered it quite well now—I had +often puzzled over the writing in this book, +and though I had never made out the name +before, "Ansdell," I remembered having +read that the other was "Rosebuds." I +understood now a sort of feeling I had had +when grandpapa had told us the name that +morning, that I had heard it before—or, as +it turned out, <i>seen</i> it before.</p> + +<p>I rushed up stairs with the little red book +in my hand.</p> + +<p>"Tib," I said, looking and feeling very +excited, "just look at this."</p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/img045.jpg"> + <img src="images/img045.jpg" height="350" + alt="READING THE BOOK" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"><span class="small"><i>We leant over the book together.</i></span><br /> + <span class="caption">Click to <a href="images/img045.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p>Up jumped Tib—she had been down on +the floor arranging the primroses in some +little glasses that we always kept on the +mantelpiece for any flowers that came our +way. Liddy had left the room, and Gerald +had gone with her. We leant over the book +together.</p> + +<p>"You see?" I said, pointing to the word +above the date.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tib; "it's certainly 'Rosebuds.' +I suppose grandpapa had it when +he was a little boy, there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you stupid!" I exclaimed. "You're +always wanting to make up wonderful stories +of adventures and mysteries, and now, when +I've found you a real mystery, all ready +made, you won't see it. If it had just been +grandpapa's book, what would he have +scored the name out for? Besides, you +know very well that his name is 'Gerald,' +like papa and Gerald. And <i>this</i> name begins +with a 'R.'"</p> + +<p>Tib had taken the book in her own hands +by this time, and was peering at it.</p> + +<p>"You may call me stupid, if you like," +she said, "but I've found out something +else. The name is 'Regina'—my second +name;" for Tib's whole name was Mercedes +Regina. "Mercedes Regina Ansdell"—isn't +that an awfully grand name for a little +girl? She was a little girl then.</p> + +<p>I seized the book in my turn. Sure +enough, now that Tib had put the idea into +my head, it seemed quite plain—even +through the very thick crossing-out one +could see the confused shapes of the word +"Regina."</p> + +<p>"You're right, Gussie," said Tib; "there +<i>is</i> a mystery. You remember that time that +grandpapa was grumbling at my name—like +he did this morning—and I said, 'Mightn't +I be called by my second name?' how +he snapped out, 'No, certainly not.' It +frightened me so, I remember. There must +have been somebody called 'Regina Ansdell' +that he didn't like, or he was angry with, +or <i>something</i>. Oh! how I do wonder who +she was, and why he has never told us +about her?"</p> + +<p>"We might ask nurse," I said. "I am +sure she knows something—for you see, this +Regina Ansdell must have lived at Rosebuds, +and it's something about there that +Liddy has heard, and won't tell us. And I +shouldn't wonder if it has to do with grandpapa's +not wanting us to know any of the +people there."</p> + +<p>"What can it be?" said Tib, her eyes +growing bigger and rounder. "There can't +surely be any one shut up there—a mysterious +lady called 'Regina.' Oh, no, that +can't be it, for grandpapa would never take +us there if there were. Besides—though +he's rather frightening and strict—grandpapa's +not bad and wicked."</p> + +<p>"The Queen wouldn't let him be in the +Parliament if he were," said I. "At least, +I <i>suppose</i> not."</p> + +<p>"It's good of him to have all of us living +with him. Nursey says it is. I don't think +we've got any money of our own."</p> + +<p>"Well, we're his grandchildren, and it +isn't our fault that papa and mamma died," +I said. "I don't think <i>that's</i> so very good +of him. Still, he is good to us in some +ways, I know."</p> + +<p>Tib was still staring at the book.</p> + +<p>"I don't think it's any use asking nurse," +she said. "If she does know anything she +doesn't want to tell us. And it's no use +telling Gerald: he's too little. If we told +him not to speak of it, he'd very likely get +red the first time grandpapa looked at him—like +that day you filled the hood of Miss +Evans' waterproof with peas, and he kept +staring at it all the time of our lessons, till +she found out there was something the +matter."</p> + +<p>"No," said I; "it's better not to tell +him. Of course, Tib, we mustn't do anything +<i>naughty</i>. It would be naughty to go +prying into grandpapa's secrets, if he has +any. But what we've found out hasn't been +with prying. It's impossible not to <i>wonder</i> +a little about it. And it's grandpapa's own +fault for telling us so sharply not to know +anybody or speak to anybody at Rosebuds. +Of course, we'll obey him, but we can't help +our minds wondering—they're made to +wonder."</p> + +<p>Tib considered for a while. Then her +face cleared.</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you what we can do, Gussie," +she said; "we can turn it into a play. We +can't leave off wondering, as you say, but +we can mix up our wondering with fancy, +and make up a plan of how it all was. It +will be <i>very</i> interesting, for we shall know +there <i>is</i> something real, and yet we can +make it more wonderful than anything real +could be now that everything's grown so +plain and—and—I don't know the word—the +opposite of poetry and fairy stories, +I mean—in the world. We must think +about it, Gussie. We might make it +an 'ancient times' story, or an ogre story, +or<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "we'll think about it."</p> + +<p>I did not want to disappoint Tib, and I +thought, in a way, it was rather a good +idea. But I am not so fond of fancying or +pretending as Tib—I like real things. And +the idea of a real secret or mystery had +taken hold of my mind, and I wanted to +find out about it. Still, the making a play +of it wasn't a bad idea. As Tib said, it +would be more interesting than an altogether +make-up play.</p> + +<p>We didn't say anything about the name in +the book to Liddy. It was no use worrying +the poor old thing by teasing her about what +she thought would be wrong to tell; even +if it had not anything to do with our +mystery, it would have been wrong and +unkind of <i>us</i>. And we said nothing to +Gerald either; and indeed for some days we +did not think or speak much about our discovery +even to each other; we were so very +much taken up about the real preparing to +go away.</p> + +<p>It was much more of a nice bustle and +fuss than it had ever been to go to Ansdell +Friars. There, everything was left from +year to year just as we had always had it. +The rooms had all we needed, and there was +very little besides our clothes to pack up +and take. But for going to Rosebuds it +was quite different. None of the servants +had ever been there, and they were all in a +to-do about it, especially as only about half +of them were to go; and the other half +were cross at being sent away, and kept +telling the others they'd be sure to find +everything wrong there.</p> + +<p>Nurse was the only one who was really +pleased to go; and I am sure, dear old thing, +it was more for our sakes than her own.</p> + +<p>"It'll be a real change for them, poor +dears," she kept saying; and this gave her +patience to bear all our teasing and the +servants' grumbling. What a time she had +of it, to be sure! From Gerald's "Nursey, +may I take <i>all</i> my horses? If I leave Sultan +in the cupboard won't the mouses and +butterflies eat him?"—Gerald always called +moths butterflies—"Will there be any +wheelbarrows, like at Ansdell?" to Fanny's +suggestion that there'd be no nursery tea-service +there—"a house that nobody's been +in for years and years"—everything fell on +old Liddy! And you see she dared not go +asking grandpapa all sorts of things, as if +he'd been a lady. He was even rather cross +when she went trembling one day to ask if +there were shops anywhere near Rosebuds, +or if she must plan to take everything we +could want for all the summer.</p> + +<p>"Shops," said grandpapa—I heard him, +for Liddy had caught him on his way down +stairs one morning, and I was standing just +inside the school-room doorway; "of course +there are shops near enough—five miles off +or so. I'm not going to take you to the +middle of Africa. I dare say there are shops +enough in the village for common things. +Mrs. Munt will tell you all that. No need +to worry me about it."</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Munt!" I had never heard that +name before. I pricked up my ears, but I +was dreadfully afraid that Liddy would be +too frightened to ask any more. To my satisfaction +I heard her meek old voice again:</p> + +<p>"And who may Mrs. Munt be, sir, if you +please?"</p> + +<p>At this grandpapa stopped short and +looked at her—I couldn't see him, but I +<i>felt</i> him stop short and look at her. Poor +Liddy!</p> + +<p>"Upon my soul!" he said. Then some +reflection seemed to strike him, for his next +words were more amiable.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Munt is the housekeeper at Rosebuds. +She's been there ever since <i>I</i> can +remember. You didn't suppose I was going +to trust to that Mary Ann's cooking?" +Mary Ann was the kitchen-maid. She was +coming with us, but not the cook, who was +leaving to be married. "Mrs. Munt is, or +used to be, a very good cook, and a very +good sort of person altogether."</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, sir," said Liddy very +heartily. Mrs. Munt was a great relief to +her mind, for the idea of Mary Ann's cooking +on the days that "master" came down +to Rosebuds had been weighing on it. To +me the idea of Mrs. Munt brought back the +thought of the mystery. If she had been +there as long as <i>grandpapa</i> could remember, +what must she not know?</p> + +<p>I flew off to Tib with the news, +but she did not receive it with much +interest.</p> + +<p>"An old cook!" she said disdainfully. +"Why, that would spoil it all. It wouldn't +matter so much for an ogre story, if we +could fancy her a witch, but for an 'ancient +times' one, it would never do."</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother!" I exclaimed, "I don't +want pretending. I want to know about +it really. If you only wanted make-ups, +you can always get things that will do for +them. I am sure Miss Evans would have +been a <i>beautiful</i> witch! Oh, Tib, aren't +you glad she isn't coming any more?"</p> + +<p>For Miss Evans had left off coming altogether. +She was going to begin a school—how +we pitied the scholars!—and had asked +grandpapa to let her off at once. She came +to say good-bye to us, and gave us each a +present of a book—and, to our surprise, +there were tears in her eyes when she +kissed us! People are really very queer +in this world—they never seem to care for +things till they know they are not +going to have them any more. We all +felt rather ashamed that we couldn't cry +too, and Tib said she was afraid we must +have very little feeling, which made Gerald +and me quite unhappy for a while.</p> + +<p>All the same, we weren't at all in a hurry +to hear of the new "Miss Evans."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_3" id="ch_3"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3> +<h4>"ROSEBUDS."</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"To one who has been long in city pent,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> And open face of heaven."</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="smallcaps">Keats'</span> <i>Sonnets</i>.</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 110px;"> +<img src="images/ch3b.jpg" width="110" alt="I" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent"> suppose it is +true, as older people +say, that things +very seldom turn +out as one expects. +Sometimes they are +not so bad as one +feels sure they will +be—and very often, or +almost always, they are +not so nice as one has thought they would +be, if one has been fancying and picturing +a great deal about them. And any way, +they are never quite <i>what</i> one expects. I +am beginning to find this out for myself +now—looking back, I can recollect very +few nice things in my life that have turned +out as nice as I had imagined them. But +of these few, Rosebuds was one, and that +has made me always remember with particular +distinctness all about our first acquaintance +with the dear little place. I +think I could tell <i>everything</i> about our +arrival there, exactly how each room looked, +and what we had for tea—oh, how hungry +we were that first evening! and I seem to +feel again the feeling of the snowy white +sheets and the sort of faint hay-ey—Tib +said it was lavender—scent in our beds +when we got into them that first night—very +tired, but very happy.</div> +<div><img class="figright" src="images/img061b.jpg" height="300" alt="THE POULTRY-YARD" /></div> +<p>What plans we made for the next day—how +we settled to get up with the sun, to +ramble about and see everything—and how, +after all, we slept, of course, much later +than usual! Still, it was a delicious waking. +Do you know how beautiful a first waking +in the real country is when you have been +a long time in London? There is a sort of +clear stillness in the air that you can <i>feel</i>, +and then a cock crows—with quite a different +crow from the poor London cocks, I +always think, and hens cluck a little, just +under your window perhaps; or, best of all, +a turkey gobble-wobbles and some ducks +quack—perhaps there is a rush of all together +if your window happens to be not +far from the poultry-yard, and the girl is +coming out with the creatures' breakfast—and +further off you hear a moo from some +cows, and nearer, and yet more distant, the +clear sweet notes of the ever busy little +birds as they pass by on their way up to +who knows where? Oh, it is too delicious—and +when you +hear all those +sounds, as you are +lying there still dreamy +and sleepy, there is a +sort of strangeness and +<i>fairy-ness</i>—I must +make up that word—that +makes you think +of Red +Riding-hood +setting +off +in the +early +morning to her grandmother's cottage, or +of the little princess who went to live with +the dwarfs to keep house for them.</p> + +<p>But I must come back to the evening +before—the evening, that is to say, of our +arrival at Rosebuds. It had been a pouring +wet day when we left London (it went on +pouring till we were only about half-an-hour +from our journey's end); and just at the +last moment grandpapa had got a telegram +which stopped his coming with us. He +grumbled a little, but I don't think he had +been looking forward with <i>much</i> pleasure to +the journey in our company, and though we +thought it our duty to look grave, and Tib +said gently, "What a pity!" I don't think +<i>we</i> minded much either. Indeed, to tell +the real truth—and it isn't any harm telling +it in here, as grandpapa will never see +this story—I think it was his not being +with us, and our feeling so lovelily free and +unafraid, that made that first evening at +Rosebuds so delightful.</p> + +<p><i>And</i> Mrs. Munt!—oh, yes, it had to do +with Mrs. Munt. There never was anybody +so nice as Mrs. Munt—there never could be!</p> + +<p>But I <i>must</i> go straight on, and not keep +slipping a little bit backwards, and hurrying +on too far forwards, this sort of way. +Well then, as I was saying, it rained and +rained all through the three hours' journey, +or at least two hours and a half of it, so +that we all felt rather doleful and shivery, +and Liddy began hoping there'd be no +mistake about the carriage from the inn +meeting us at the station, as grandpapa had +told her it should. Poor Liddy was rather +inclined to get nervous when she was +thrown on her own resources.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, nursey," we said, all three, +to comfort her; "we can easily walk if it +isn't there. You know grandpapa said it +was only about half a mile, and we've got +our big cloaks on—the rain wouldn't +hurt us."</p> + +<p>But Liddy still looked rather unhappy, +till suddenly from her side of the railway +carriage Tib called out, "It's clearing up—it's +clearing up splendidly; and oh, Gussie! +do look—there's such a lovely rainbow!"</p> + +<p>So there was. I never before or since +saw such a rainbow—it seemed a very nice +welcome for us, and after all, Liddy's fears +were quite without reason. For the queer +old "one-horse fly" was waiting for us, and +we all bundled into it and drove off without +any mishaps, except that nurse was sure +the packet of umbrellas had been left in the +railway carriage, and stood shouting to the +guard to stop after the train was already +moving out of the station, which made us +all laugh so, that we hadn't breath to tell +her that it was all safe in the fly.</p> + +<p>Though Rosebuds is almost <i>in</i> the +village—at least, a very tiny bit out of +it—it is some little way from the station, +because for some reason that I've never +found out, the station stands away by itself +in the fields, as if it and the village had +quarrelled and wouldn't have anything to +say to each other. I dare say it's not a bad +thing that it is so: the nice country-ness +of it all would have been a little spoilt by +the trains whistling in and out, and as it is, +we scarcely hear it, as the railroad is low +down and is hardly noticed. And the road +from the station to the village <i>is</i> so pretty. +I never, even now, go along it without +remembering that first evening when we +drove to Rosebuds in the clear brightness +that comes after rain, the fields and the +hedges glistening with the water diamonds, +the little clouds hurrying away as if they +were afraid of being caught, and over all +the sort of hush that seems to me to follow +a regular rainy day—as if the world were a +naughty child that had cried itself to sleep +with the tears still on its cheeks.</p> + +<p>It is a hilly bit of road—first it goes +down, and then it goes up, and when it +comes into the village it does so quite +suddenly. You see a high, ivy-covered +wall, which is the wall of the church-yard, +and then comes a row of sweet little alms-houses, +and then the inn, and one by one +all the village houses and shops in the most +irregular way possible. Some one said once +that it was more like an old German village +than an English one, but I have never been +in Germany, so I can't tell, only it certainly +is very unlike everywhere else. We were so +pleased to see it so queer and funny, that +we kept tugging each other to look out, +first at one side, and then at the other, and +sometimes at both at once. Then we began +wondering which of the houses, as we came +to them, could be Rosebuds, and I think +we would have been quite pleased whichever +it was—they <i>all</i> looked so tempting +and snug.</p> + +<p>But we were all wrong in our guesses, +for, as I said, Rosebuds was quite at the +end, and, like the village itself, we came +upon it quite suddenly, turning sharply +down a sort of lane so shaded with trees +that you could scarcely see where you were +going; then with some tugging at the old +horse, and some swaying of the clumsy old +fly, in we drove at an open gate, and +pulled up in front of a low white house, +nestling, so to speak, in thickly-growing, +bushy trees.</p> + +<p>Never was a house so like its name! +The trees were not really planted so very +close as they looked, but it seemed at first +sight as if it was almost buried in them: +it stood out so white against their green. +It looks at first sight smaller than it really +is, for it extends a good deal out at the +back. But large or small, to us it was just +perfection, and so was the very rosy old +woman who stood smiling and bobbing in +the porch. She was so comical-looking +that we could hardly help laughing. I +think she must find the world a very good-humoured +place, for nobody <i>could</i> be cross +when they look at her!</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Munt, ma'am, I suppose?" said +nurse as she got down.</p> + +<p>And, "Certainly, ma'am," replied Mrs. +Munt, and then the two old bodies shook +hands very ceremoniously. It was so funny +to see their politeness to each other. But +Mrs. Munt was too eager to see us to waste +much time on Liddy.</p> + +<p>"And is these the dear young ladies and +gentleman?" she said, hastening forward +as we emerged from the fly. "Dear, +dear! to think you should be so big +already, and me never to have seen you +before!"</p> + +<p>The tears were in her eyes, and we felt +rather at a loss what to say or do. She +seemed to know all about us so well that +we felt really ashamed to think—though it +certainly was not our fault—that we had +never heard of her till about two days ago. +I felt too shy to speak, but Tib held out +her hand.</p> + +<p>"I am very glad to see you, Mrs. Munt," +she said. "I am the eldest, you know. I +am Miss Ansdell."</p> + +<p>A slight shadow of pain crossed the old +woman's face.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ansdell," she repeated, with a +strange sadness in her tone: "yes, my +dear—to be sure—you <i>are</i> Miss Ansdell—Master +Gerald's eldest."</p> + +<p>"<i>I'm</i> Gerald, too," said Gerald himself. +"I'm called after grandpapa and papa. Did +you know papa when he was as little as me?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Munt smiled.</p> + +<p>"I should think so, indeed—and your +grandpapa too," she said. "And this is +Miss Gustava—you're not like the others, +my dear. Perhaps you take after your +mamma's family—the Ansdells have all +blue eyes and dark hair. I remember +Master Gerald writing about his lady's +beautiful light hair."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said nurse, rather primly, +very anxious to put in a word for her side +of the house, "Miss Gussie's hair is very +nice, but it's nothing to what her dear +mamma's was."</p> + +<p>But we didn't want to stand at the door +all the evening while the old bodies discussed +our looks in this way. Gerald, who +somehow seemed less shy with Mrs. Munt +than Tib and I, put a stop to it in his own +way.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Munt," he said, "I'm dreadfully +hungry. I'm only seven years old, you +know, though I look more; and nurse says +seven's a hungry age."</p> + +<p>"And we're hungry too—Tib and I, +though I'm ten and Tib's eleven," said I. +"And we do <i>so</i> want to see all the rooms +and everything. Oh, I do think Rosebuds +is far the nicest place in the world."</p> + +<p>My words quite gained Mrs. Munt's +heart.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, miss, I don't think you're far +wrong," she said. And then, just for a +moment before going in, we stood and +looked round. In front of the house there +was a beautiful lawn, right down to the low +wall which separated it from the high road. +And away on the other side of that, the +ground sloped down gradually, so that we +seemed to have nothing to interfere with +the view, which was really a very lovely +one—right over the old Forest of Evold, to +where the river Rother flows quietly along +at the foot of the Rothering Hills. But +children don't care much for views—it's +since I've got big that I've learnt to like +the view—we were much more interested +to follow Mrs. Munt into the house, across +the low square hall into a short wide +passage, with a window along one side, and +a flight of steps at one end. A door stood +open close to the foot of the stairs, and +Mrs. Munt led the way through it into a +bright, plainly-furnished room, where tea +was already set out for us.</p> + +<p>"I might have got it ready in the dining-room +this first evening," she said, "but I +thought master would be coming, and that +there'd be his dinner to see to. This is the +old play-room—the school-room as used to +be is now a bed-room—and I thought this +would be the best for you to have quite as +your own."</p> + +<p>"It will be very nice, I'm sure," said Tib, +whom Mrs. Munt looked at as the eldest. +"And there's a door right out into the +garden—oh, that will be nice! won't it, +Gussie?"</p> + +<p>"So that we can come out and in whenever +we like. Yes, I'm glad of that," I said. +"Is the garden big, Mrs. Munt? I hope it +is, because—because we've no chance of +being allowed to play in any other," I was +going to say, but I stopped, and I felt +myself grow a little red. I wondered if +Mrs. Munt knew why grandpapa was so +strict about our not making any friends; +and I fancied she looked at me curiously as +she replied—</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Gustava; it's a good big +garden, and it's nice to play in, for there's a +deal of rather wild shrubbery—down at the +back. Our young ladies and gentlemen +long ago used to say there was nowhere like +Rosebuds for hide-and-seek."</p> + +<p>"Who were your young ladies and gentlemen?" +I asked quietly. "Papa had no +brothers and sisters, I know."</p> + +<p>"Ah! but I was here long before your +dear papa's time, Miss Gustava," said Mrs. +Munt. "I was here when your grandpapa +was a boy. I'm five years older nor master."</p> + +<p>"And had <i>grandpapa</i> brothers and sisters, +then?" I asked again.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Munt grew a little uneasy.</p> + +<p>"You must have heard of your uncle, the +Colonel, who was killed in India," she said. +"And there was Miss Mary, who died +when she was only fifteen. You must have +seen her grave at Ansdell Friars."</p> + +<p>I shook my head.</p> + +<p>"No, I don't think so. But I do +remember the tablet in the church to Colonel +Baldwin Ansdell. I often wondered who +he was. You remember it, Tib? But +hadn't grandpapa any other sisters? You +said young <i>ladies</i>, Mrs. Munt."</p> + +<p>I had forgotten all my shyness now in +curiosity. But it was not fated to be +satisfied just then. Nurse suddenly interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Miss Gussie, dear, you must wait a +while to hear all these things from Mrs. +Munt. The tea's all ready, and I'm sure +you're all hungry. Just run up stairs with +Miss Tib to take off your hats, there's a +dear. Will you show us the rooms, Mrs. +Munt, please?"</p> + +<p>So we were all trotted off again—up stairs +this time, though it scarcely seemed like +going up stairs at all, so broad and shallow +were the steps compared with the high-up +flights in our London house. And Tib and +I were so pleased with the room which Mrs. +Munt told us was to be ours, that we should +have forgotten all about the talk down stairs +if she hadn't made another remark, which +put my unanswered question into my head +again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is a nice room," she said, looking +round with pleasure at the light-painted +furniture and the two white beds side by +side, the old-fashioned cupboards in the +wall, two of them with glass doors, letting +us see a few queer old china cups and teapots +inside; "<i>and</i> so little changed, even +to its name. We've always called it the +young ladies' room."</p> + +<p>There it was again—the young <i>ladies</i>; +but nurse was listening and evidently fussing +to get us down to tea. I must trust +to cross-questioning Mrs. Munt some other +time.</p> + +<p>And the tea was really enough to take +up all our attention. There was everything +of country things—fresh eggs, and butter +and milk of the best, and bread, and tea-cakes, +and strawberry jam, and potted fish—all +"home-made," of course. I think +Mrs. Munt and nurse were really a little +frightened to see how much we ate.</p> + +<p>After tea we wanted, of course, to go out, +but Liddy decided that it was too damp, +and Mrs. Munt consoled us by giving us +leave to go all over the house, for it was +barely six o'clock and quite light. She took +us into the front hall and showed us the +dining-room, out of which opened the study, +and beyond that again, what had been the +school-room, and was now grandpapa's bed-room. +There was nothing <i>very</i> interesting +in these rooms, though they were all quaint +and old-fashioned; and through all the +house there was the sort of clean, fresh, +and yet <i>not new</i> feeling—a mixture of faint +old scents that cannot be got away, and +wood-fires long ago burnt out, and yet the +sweet, pure country air preventing their +being musty or stale—that you never notice +except in an old country house that has +been carefully kept, and yet not really lived +in for many years.</p> + +<p>And then Mrs. Munt, taking us through +the hall again, showed us the door of the +drawing-room, and told us we might look +at it by ourselves, which we were pleased at.</p> + +<p>It was <i>much</i> more interesting, for, though +a small room, it was filled with pictures and +curiosities. The pictures were mostly +miniatures—such queer things some of them +were; gentlemen in uniform and the funniest +fancy dresses, some with wigs down to their +waists, some of them with helmets to make +them like Roman soldiers. And ladies to +match—some looking dreadfully proud, +with towers of hair on the top of their heads, +and some simpering in a silly way. One of +these last was really rather like Tib when +she smiles in what I call her "company" +manner—though it's hardly fair to say that +now, as she has really left it off—and she +was very angry at my saying so, and told +me that the most stuck-up-looking one of +all was very like <i>me</i>; "and it's better to +look silly than to be so horribly proud," she +added. We were really rather near quarrelling, +which would have been a bad +beginning for our life at Rosebuds, when +we caught sight of an old cabinet in one +corner, of which the top half stood open, +showing rows and rows of little drawers, +and here and there queer shaped doors +opening into inside places, where there were +more drawers and shelves. It was a Japanese +cabinet, of course—a very old and valuable +one. I have never seen one so large and +curious, and it quite absorbed our attention +till nurse came tapping at the door—I don't +know why she tapped; I suppose she had +an idea that, as we were in the drawing-room, +she must—to tell us it was time, and +more than time, to go to bed.</p> + +<p>And though I wanted to talk to Tib in +bed about the queerness of there having +been young <i>ladies</i> long ago in this very +room, and that Mrs. Munt evidently didn't +want to tell us about them, I was so sleepy, +and so was Tib, that our conversation got +no further than, "Tib, don't you think<span class="nowrap">——</span>" +and a very indistinct murmur of "Yes, +Gussie, of course I do," before we were both +fast asleep and<span class="nowrap">——</span></p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_4" id="ch_4"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3> +<h4>THE DOOR IN THE GARDEN WALL.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"Deep in a garden, rank and green,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"><span class="ind1"> </span>It were scarce older now than then,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> For all the seasons gone between."</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="smallcaps">C. C. Fraser Tytler.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 120px;"> +<img src="images/ch4b.jpg" width="120" alt="T" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">he next thing +we knew it +was to-morrow +morning—our +first morning at +Rosebuds!</div> + +<p>I have told already +about this +first morning—how +beautiful it was to +wake to all the +fresh sweet country +sounds and feelings. I have felt this several +times since then in my life, but never quite +so newly and strongly as that morning, +and every time since then that I have felt +it, that day has come back to my mind.</p> + +<p>It was very fine and bright, and immediately +after breakfast we got leave to go +out into the garden.</p> + +<p>"Not outside, of course," said nurse, +anxiously. "When you want to go a +walk I will go with you—I or Fanny. +Mrs. Munt will tell us all the nicest +walks."</p> + +<p>"We shall never want to go walks here, +I am sure," said Tib. "The garden is much +nicer, and we can find lots of things to +amuse us in it. Besides, nursey, you know +you don't care about walks with your +rheumatics, and Fanny is sure to say she +hasn't time, as she has to be housemaid too +here."</p> + +<p>"It's much best to let us play in the +garden always," I said. "I'm sure grandpapa +would like it best."</p> + +<p>"Any way, till the new Miss Evans +comes," said Gerald.</p> + +<p>But Tib and I turned on him.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you horrid little boy!" we said; +"what is the use of spoiling our nice +first day by speaking of anything so +dreadful?"</p> + +<p>"I don't believe there ever could be anybody +at all like Miss Evans—that's one +comfort, any way," I added. But Gerald +looked rather grumpy: he couldn't bear +being called a "little boy"—he wouldn't +have minded being called "horrid" if we +hadn't put in the "little."</p> + +<p>All grumpiness, however, was forgotten +when we found ourselves out of doors, and +free to do as we chose. This first day, of +course, the great thing to do was to explore, +and that we did pretty thoroughly. The +lawn in front was a beautiful place for +running races on, or for "Miller's ground," +or games like that—and the walk all round +it was interesting because Mrs. Munt told +us that twelve times round it, made a +mile.</p> + +<p>"We might have walking matches," said +Tib, consideringly. "It wouldn't be very +amusing; but still, if we got tired of everything +else, it would be worth remembering;" +and then we proceeded to inspect the rest of +our domain.</p> + +<p><i>The</i> place of places was the tangle, or +shrubbery, as Mrs. Munt had called it, away +down at the back. It was quite a large +place, and you could not distinguish easily +where it ended, for the wall which edged it +was so old, and so covered with ivy and +other creepers run wild, that till you +actually felt it you couldn't have told it +was there. Here and there in the tangle +there were little clearings, as it were, carefully +enough kept—indeed, the gardeners +did clear out the tangle itself once or twice +a year, only it was meant to be wild—where +you were sure to find a bench, or a +rustic seat, and in one place there was even +a summer-house, though a rather unhappy +looking one.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose," said Tib, when we +came upon this arbour, "I don't suppose +any one's been here since those children—grandpapa +and the brothers and sisters who +are dead, or that we can't hear about—played +here, ever, ever so long ago. Papa +hadn't any brothers or sisters, and he +wasn't much here—nurse knows that much. +It looks like as if it had never been touched +since then—doesn't it? <i>Isn't</i> it queer to +think of?" and Tib sat down on one of the +shady seats, still feebly holding together, +and looked very serious. "Isn't it queer?" +she repeated.</p> + +<p>"It would be a nice place for a robber's +castle," said Gerald, who had mounted up +beside Tib, and was peeping out at a little +slit in the side which had been meant to let +light in by, in the days when the summer-house +had a door that would shut. "See +here, this hole would just do for an archer +to shoot through when he saw the—the +others you know," he went on, getting +rather muddled, "marching up the hill—we +could fancy it was a hill."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Gerald!" I said. "You're +mixing up robbers' dens and feudal castles. +You're too little to plan plays. All you +can do is to be what Tib and I fix for you +in our plans."</p> + +<p>Gerald was very indignant. He muttered +something about "just like girls," but he +dared not say it loud out; we kept him in +far too good order for that. Tib and I +went on talking without noticing him, and +he sat down in a corner, and amused himself +by poking about among the dry fir +needles that lay like a sort of sand on the +floor, for the arbour was made of fir branches +and cones. I remembered afterwards hearing +him give a sort of little squeak, and say, +"Hi! I declare!" or something like that, +but at the time I paid no attention, and he +stayed quite quiet in his corner.</p> + +<p>His words, though I snubbed him so, had +reminded Tib of her plans, and we went on +talking about them for some time. She +was all for a regular romance—there was to +be a beautiful lady shut up by a cruel +baron, who wanted to get all her money by +forcing her to marry his hump-backed son +(I am afraid that among the old children's +books, one or two not quite children's books +had got in; I remember one, called "The +Imprisoned Heiress," which we read a +chapter or two of, and then it got stupid), +and she was to escape by "scaling the +fortress wall," which meant, we had a hazy +idea, stripping it down stone by stone, as if +it were a fish with scales. We decided that +the summer-house would do very well for +the lonely tower, and we sallied forth at +last, all three of us, to inspect the wall and +choose a good place for the imaginary escape. +But time had fled faster than we fancied; +we had only gone a few steps, when we +heard Fanny's voice in the distance.</p> + +<p>"Miss Tib, Miss Gussie, Master Gerald! +Master Gerald, Miss Gussie, Miss Tib! oh, +dear, dear, wherever can they be? Your +dinner's ready—din—ner! din—ner!" she +went on at last, as if she thought the word +"dinner" would be the best bait to catch +us by.</p> + +<p>We were rather hungry again already. +We all set up a shout, and set off in a +scamper to where Fanny stood, the image +of despair, at the beginning of the tangle, +which she dared not enter in her thin +London slippers, as the moss-grown paths +looked damp and dirty.</p> + +<p>That afternoon, to our vexation, was +showery—it was not so hopelessly rainy as +to prevent our going out at all, but nurse +told us we must stay in the front, on the +short-cropped lawn and the dry gravel paths.</p> + +<p>So it was not till the next day that we +returned to the old summer-house and the +tangle. We had, in the meantime, talked +over the plan of the play, and got it more +into shape. You will see that it had +nothing to do with the "mystery," as Tib +and I still called it to ourselves. We had +decided to wait a little before playing at <i>it</i>. +I did not care for Gerald to hear about it, +for fear he should chatter to nurse, and I +also wanted to see if there really was anything +else to find out. There was no knowing +but what in time Mrs. Munt would tell +us more about the family history, and +though Tib was rather reluctant to give up +making a story of it, I persuaded her that +so far we really knew too little.</p> + +<p>We began cleaning out the summer-house, +for I wanted to make it habitable for the +unfortunate heroine.</p> + +<p>"You see," said I, "it would be more +natural for the cruel baron to persuade her +that he was bringing her here for safety, as +he had heard his castle was going to be +attacked by some enemy; so he makes it +pretty comfortable for her. And then, +when she's been living here alone for some +time, and she must be finding it very dull, +he sends the horrid little hump-back, who +pretends to be against his father, and tells +her she is going to be kept there unless +she'll marry him, and that he is dreadfully +sorry for her, and<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"I don't see why he need pretend to be +against his father," said Tib; "he might +just say straight off that she must marry +him or else she'll never get out. But I +think it would be much better to fancy it +was a horrid dungeon. Gerald, I don't +think you need trouble to rake up the cones +and leaves into a bed for her. I don't see +any sense in pretending it's comfortable."</p> + +<p>"I do—and it makes it much more of a +play," I said. "Any way, we might make +it that way at first, and have her thrown +into the dungeon afterwards, and escape +from there."</p> + +<p>Tib did not object to this. But the word +"escape" reminded her of the wall. She +proposed that we should examine it, and +find the best place.</p> + +<p>We had to scramble in among the bushes +before we got to the wall. And it proved +to be a much higher one than we expected.</p> + +<p>"The play will have to be all pretence," +said Tib; "we couldn't possibly get over +this, or pull any stones away. It is far +too strong."</p> + +<p>We went on, however, a few steps, still +at the foot of the wall. Suddenly Tib gave +a little exclamation.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Gussie," she said, and with +her hands she pulled back some branches of +ivy—"look here—there's a door in the +wall—a very old door, and not opened for +ever so long; for see, the ivy has grown +right across it."</p> + +<p>Gerald and I pushed forward eagerly. +Yes, Tib was right. There was a door in +the wall—not a very big one, but very strong, +for it did not rattle or shake at all when we +pounded on it. It was locked, firmly locked +we soon found out, when we had torn away +as much of the ivy as we could. The lock +was a great big one, clumsy, but very +strong, and so rusty that, even without the +testimony of the ivy, it would have been +clear that no one had passed through that +doorway for a great number of years.</p> + +<p>We all three stood and looked at each +other.</p> + +<p>"Another mystery," was what Tib and I +were thinking, though we did not say it aloud.</p> + +<p>But Gerald looked rather "funny;" his +round rosy cheeks were rosier than usual, and +there was a queer sparkle in his eyes as he +said—</p> + +<p>"<i>Wouldn't</i> you like to open it? <i>Wouldn't</i> +it be nice if one could find the key?" and +he jumped about and turned—or tried to +turn—head over heels: there wasn't much +room in among the bushes, and he kept +saying, "Wouldn't it be nice if somebody +could find a key to fit it? But little boys +are too little and silly to know anything, +aren't they? They're not like big young +ladies."</p> + +<p>And though Tib got hold of him, and we +both <i>shook</i> him we were so provoked, that +was all he would say. So we settled that +he was just in one of his teasing humours; +he didn't have them very often, it is true.</p> + +<p>So the only use to make of the door in +the wall was another pretence. We settled +that it should be the entrance to the dungeon; +it didn't do badly for that, as two or +three steps, looking very black and slimy, +led down to it. And we fixed that, instead +of "scaling the wall," the lady should +escape by hiding in the wood till the prince +who was to be her rescuer passed that way. +Gerald had to be the prince, in turns with +the horrid little hump-back, for I had to +be the baron, and also a lady attendant on +the heiress, and Tib, of course, was the +heiress. We didn't much like having Gerald +after the tiresome way he had been going +on, but there was no help for it.</p> + +<p>And the next two or three days passed +very happily. There was still a great deal +to see and inspect about Rosebuds; the +house itself—especially the drawing-room, +with its treasures, which Mrs. Munt showed +us, and sometimes, when she found that we +were careful children, allowed us to examine +for ourselves; the stables, where lived the +old pony who was still able to draw the still +older pony-carriage, or "shay"—as the +farm-man called it—as far as the little town, +where Mrs. Munt liked to go once a month, +and to bring home her purchases herself instead +of trusting them to the railway. Then +there were the dairy and poultry-yard, +her great pride, though she was rather +mortified to hear that we had never known +that the butter and fresh eggs we ate in +London were sent up from Rosebuds every +week.</p> + +<p>"Why, we never even heard of Rosebuds +till a few days before we came here," I told +her.</p> + +<p>Her face grew sad at this, and I was sorry +I had said it.</p> + +<p>"Grandpapa is very <i>funny</i>," I went on, +thinking, perhaps, we might get round to +the subject of the "young ladies" and the +scored-out name, which we couldn't help +connecting together; "he never tells us +anything. I don't believe he'd have ever +told us we'd had a papa and mamma if nurse +hadn't been our mamma's nurse, and so could +tell us all about her."</p> + +<p>"Your grandpapa's had a deal of trouble, +my dears," said Mrs. Munt. "And there's +some as trouble softens and makes more +loving to all about them and some as it +hardens, or seems to harden, leastways to +shut them up in themselves. And I think +it's no harm of me to tell you, now I see +what sensible children you are, that it's been +that way with your grandpapa. It's not +really hardened him, for you know he has +not got selfish or unmindful of others. He +is very good to you?" and poor Mrs. Munt +made the question anxiously, as if half afraid +of what we might answer.</p> + +<p>"Nurse says he's very good to us," said +Tib, slowly. "He gives us everything we +have."</p> + +<p>"But it isn't our fault that we are his +grandchildren," I said, rather bitterly. "We +didn't ask to be it. And he has plenty of +money—what could he do with it if he +hadn't us?"</p> + +<p>"Gussie," said Tib, reproachfully. But +old Mrs. Munt only looked distressed, not +vexed.</p> + +<p>"He does love you, my dears: I feel sure +of it," she said. "Only he's got out of the +way of showing it—that's what's wrong. +If you had your grandmamma now, or<span class="nowrap">——</span>" +and then she stopped. "A lady—a woman +in the family makes all so different. But +try, my lovies, to believe that he does love +you. It is true, as Miss Gussie says—for +I'd never be one to say to children what +their own sense feels is nonsense—that it +would be very wrong of your grandpapa <i>not</i> +to give you all you should have. You're +his own flesh and blood, for sure. Still, he +might have done it in a different way—he +might have sent you to some sort of school, +or to some lady who'd have taken care of +you all, and him have no trouble about it. +No one would have thought it unnatural if +he'd done that way, instead of taking up +house again in London, when he'd got quite +out of the way of it, and settling all so that +he should have you always near him."</p> + +<p>We both looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"Did he do that?" we said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Munt, "he did indeed; +and much more that he didn't, so +to speak, <i>need</i> to have done—without, all +the same, having fallen short of his duty."</p> + +<p>"I wish he would tell us things like that," +I said. "How are we to know?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Tib, "not quite that. I think +it seems more for his <i>not</i> telling. But I +wish—I wish he'd let us feel that he loves +us, and then we would, indeed we would, +love him;" and some tears slowly made their +way into Tib's blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, dears, that's the right way +to feel, any way. And maybe things will +change somehow. It's wonderful how things +come round when people really mean right. +So keep up heart, and don't be afraid of +letting master see that you want to please +him, and to love him too."</p> + +<p>This talk with the old housekeeper made +a great impression on us—so great that it +almost put the mystery out of our heads +altogether. For a great deal seemed explained +by the thought of grandpapa's old +troubles, and what these had been in time +past we knew quite well. He had lost so +many dear to him. Grandmamma, to begin +with, had died quite young; then there was +the brother Baldwin, killed in India, and the +sister Mary, buried at Ansdell Friars. That +was sad enough—and then his only son +to have died too, leaving us three helpless +babies.</p> + +<p>"I dare say he'd just as soon have been +without us, and have had nobody at all +belonging to him," I said to Tib. "It +must have been a great nuisance to have +us stupid little things sent home, and not +even poor mamma to take care of us. Do +you remember, Tib, how we used to cry +and run back to nurse when he sent for us +down to the library to see him? We +thought him a sort of an ogre."</p> + +<p>A few days after this talk with Mrs. +Munt, grandpapa came down to Rosebuds +from a Saturday to a Monday. We weren't +exactly glad to see him, but what the old +housekeeper had said was fresh in our +minds, and we were all anxious to do our +best to please him. So we made no objection +when nurse called us a full hour before +he could possibly arrive, "to be made neat +against your dear grandpapa comes." Poor +old Liddy—she would have thought it her +duty to call him our dear grandpapa even if +he <i>had</i> been an ogre, I do believe!</p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/img103.jpg"> + <img src="images/img103.jpg" height="400" + alt="LISTENING" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"><span class="small"><i>Listening for the first rumble of the carriage wheels.</i></span><br /> + <span class="caption">Click to <a href="images/img103.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p>And we had worked ourselves up to +being so extra good, that we did not even +grumble at the long time we had to sit +still doing nothing on the window-seat in +the hall, watching, or listening rather, for +the first rumble of the carriage wheels as +the signal for all running out into the +porch to meet him. That part of it was +a "plan" of Tib's—everything with her +was sure to run into "plans," and with this +new idea of pleasing grandpapa, she was +constantly casting about in her head what +we could do.</p> + +<p>"I think seeing us standing together in +the porch will touch him, you see, Gussie," +she said. "It is a little like some scene +I've read of in a story-book—the orphans, +you know—oh, <i>where</i> was it?—and the stern +guardian, and it quite melts him, and<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"He begins to cry, I suppose," I said, +rather contemptuously, I fear; "I must +say I'd be a good deal astonished to see +<i>grandpapa</i> begin to cry over us, wouldn't +you, Gerald?"</p> + +<p>But the idea was quite beyond Gerald's +imagination.</p> + +<p>"I do wish one thing," he said solemnly.</p> + +<p>"What?" asked Tib and I eagerly. +When Gerald had an idea, it was rather +startling.</p> + +<p>"If he—grandpapa, you know—really +wished to please us—he might be thinking +of us on the journey, you know—wouldn't +it be beautiful if he was to bring us each +a packet of that splendid butter-scotch that +there was at the station in London? I +looked at it while we were waiting. I +really <i>could</i> love him if he did."</p> + +<p>"You greedy little pig!" said Tib.</p> + +<p>It wasn't often Tib condescended to use +such expressions, but no doubt Gerald's +butter-scotch seemed rather a come-down +from her romantic ideas. I was sorry for +her, but I <i>couldn't</i> help laughing at the +look of disgust in her face, and at Gerald's +face of astonishment. He muttered something +I couldn't hear—of course there was +something about "girls," and "sha'n't get +it out of me," which I didn't understand. +But Tib's indignation next fell upon +me.</p> + +<p>"How can you laugh at him—such low +ideas," she said, reproachfully, to which I +answered rather crossly. Indeed, we were +all on the verge of a quarrel when at last +the sound of wheels turning in at the gate +was heard, and up we all jumped.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_5" id="ch_5"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3> +<h4>WHAT GERALD FOUND.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"Give a little love to a child, and you get a great deal +back."—<span class="smallcaps">Ruskin.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 110px;"> +<img src="images/ch5b.jpg" width="110" alt="I" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">t was very funny, after +all poor Tib's great +preparations, when she +really saw grandpapa +that she seemed as if +she could say nothing. +I had already run +forward, and quite without +thinking of pleasing him, or +of anything except that I was awfully glad +he was there, because I <i>was</i> so tired of +sitting still and squabbling, I called out +quite loudly—</div> + +<p>"Oh, grandpapa, I <i>am</i> so glad you've +come!"</p> + +<p>He was just getting down from the dog-cart—he +had had it and a horse and groom +sent down to Rosebuds to be ready for +taking him to and from the station; the +old one-horse fly wouldn't have suited +grandpapa, I can assure you!—and when +he heard me he turned round with quite a +nice, not the least "making-fun-of-you," +smile on his face. I don't think I had +ever before seen his face look so nice. +"Are you really glad I have come, Gussie? +I'm sure I feel very flattered."</p> + +<p>I felt both pleased and vexed. I did so +wish I could have let him go on thinking +I meant it that way, and I felt myself +getting very red as I blurted out—</p> + +<p>"Yes, grandpapa, I am—we are all glad +you've come. But I meant, perhaps, partly +that we've been dressed and waiting for you +<i>such</i> a time, and we were all getting rather +cross."</p> + +<p>A slight look of disappointment—it was +really disappointment, and it made me feel +still more sorry—crossed grandpapa's face +at my words. Then he smiled again, but +this time I was sorry to see there <i>was</i> a +little of the old smile in it.</p> + +<p>"You are candid, at least, my dear +granddaughter. Ah, well! we must take +the goods the gods send us, and not expect +impossibilities, I suppose! And that any +one should be glad to see <i>me</i>, in the +ordinary acceptation of the words, comes +within that category, naturally."</p> + +<p>He used such long words, he puzzled +me. (I must tell you that I have been +helped here and there to write things that +grandpapa said by some one who knows +quite well his sort of way, otherwise I +couldn't have got it quite right, though +I remember it all in my own way.) I +looked up and said, "Grandpapa, I don't +understand you."</p> + +<p>Then his face grew nicer again, and he +stooped down to kiss us in his usual +way, saying to me as he did so, "Never +mind; such understanding comes soon +enough."</p> + +<p>And Tib, who, I suppose, had been +gathering courage all this time, then looked +up, and said very prettily—Tib <i>is</i> very +pretty, you know, and that makes what +she says pretty too, I think—</p> + +<p>"Grandpapa, perhaps we could understand +some things—nice things—better +than you think. We do understand that +you're very good to us—it was very good +of you to let us come here. We are so +happy!"</p> + +<p>Grandpapa put his hand under Tib's chin, +and raised her face so that he could see +straight into her blue eyes.</p> + +<p>"Has any one been putting that into +your head, Mercedes?" he said, almost +sternly. "The truth, now, child—for +Heaven's sake let me see if you are true! +<i>Can</i> she be with those eyes—those very +same eyes?" he added to himself, so low +that no one but I—for I have dreadfully +quick ears—heard it. Tib didn't; she told +me so afterwards, but that was perhaps +because she was thinking so what she +should answer. But she looked up fearlessly, +and she didn't get red.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Munt has been speaking to us +very nicely, grandpapa," she said. "But +she didn't tell me to say anything to you—oh +no, grandpapa. All she did was to +make us think perhaps better than we +have ever done before how very good you +are to us;" and then, with the last words +Tib's courage began to go away, and the +tears came welling up into her eyes.</p> + +<p>Grandpapa looked at her still for a +minute, and then he said quietly—</p> + +<p>"What I do is no more than you have +a right to. Still, at your age the less +thought about rights—and wrongs too—the +better, no doubt. And so you are +happy here?"</p> + +<p>"Very," we all replied, heartily. And +then Gerald—oh, that tiresome boy!—must +needs add—</p> + +<p>"And it is <i>so</i> nice without Miss +Evans!"</p> + +<p>Grandpapa laughed at this, really +laughed; but Tib and I could have +pinched Gerald. For, alas! grandpapa +added—</p> + +<p>"That's right—not to have let me forget +about finding a new Miss Evans;" and +if he saw—which I don't know—Tib's and +my faces when he said that, he must have +been satisfied that we could <i>look</i> what we +felt very candidly.</p> + +<p>Grandpapa only stayed two days; but +his visit was really much nicer than we +had fancied it would be. He took us to +church on Sunday himself. But, rather +to our disappointment, not to the pretty +old church we had passed on first entering +the village, but to one at least three miles +off, which was not at all pretty nor interesting. +There was nobody at all there +except very stupid-looking, poor country +people, and the sermon was very long, and +the clergyman very dull and stupid himself. +To be sure, the driving there and +back in the dog-cart a <i>little</i> made up for it; +but still, we were very vexed when grandpapa +said we were to come to this church +every Sunday, if it was fine, in the dog-cart, +Tib in front beside Reeves the groom, +and me behind with nurse, and Gerald +stuck in beside Tib; and if it was rainy, in +the old fly from the inn in the village.</p> + +<p>We heard grandpapa giving these orders +to Reeves on the way home.</p> + +<p>"Oh, grandpapa!" I said—I was sitting +on the back seat, so I felt more courageous, +I suppose—"must we go every Sunday to +that stupid little church? I'm sure the one +in the village is much nicer."</p> + +<p>"Have you been there?" said grandpapa, +very sharply.</p> + +<p>"No, grandpapa," I replied; "we've +not been anywhere at all in the village. +But we saw the church the day we +came."</p> + +<p>"Then you cannot possibly know anything +about it; and if you were even +capable of having an opinion, it would +not make the slightest difference to mine," +he said, in his very horridest cold +way.</p> + +<p>But he got nicer again after a bit. He +even took us a little walk with him in +the afternoon, round a very pretty way, +going away down the lane into which the +gate of Rosebuds opens, and into some +woods and copsey sort of places that were +awfully nice. Grandpapa was very quiet, +and didn't speak much; but he wasn't +sharp or catching up. Once or twice he +stood still, and looked about him with an +expression on his face I had never seen +there before, and he said to us—</p> + +<p>"I remember these woods—every tree +in them, I believe—as long as I remember +myself;" and then he gave a little sigh.</p> + +<p>"Do you really, grandpapa?" we said. +"Won't you tell us a little about when +you were a little boy?"</p> + +<p>"Can you remember so long ago? Was +it as much as a hundred years ago?" +asked Gerald, opening his mouth very +wide.</p> + +<p>"Not quite so long—but too long +ago to tell you stories about," he replied, +and then he walked on without +speaking.</p> + +<p>Grandpapa had taken us an in-and-out +sort of way—we hadn't exactly noticed +where we were going, and we were surprised +to find ourselves suddenly quite +near home again. We had come up another +lane, on the other side of Rosebuds, +as it were; this lane was skirted by a +high stone wall, a wall that looked something +like the one that bordered our +"tangle."</p> + +<p>"Is inside there our garden, then?" +asked Tib, for grandpapa had just said +to us we were close to home.</p> + +<p>"No," said grandpapa, but without looking +in the direction she pointed, "that is +not the Rosebuds' garden yet."</p> + +<p>"Then what's behind there, please?" +said Gerald, in his slow way. I didn't +expect grandpapa to take the trouble of +answering him, but he did.</p> + +<p>"There is another garden behind there," +he replied, "the garden of another house, +that is to say. But it is a house that has +been uninhabited for a great number of +years—the garden must be a perfect wilderness +by now—the place is going to be sold +immediately, and the house pulled down +most likely, or else turned into a mere +farmhouse—the owner of the farm over +there," and he pointed over our heads, +"wants to buy it. So much the better."</p> + +<p>There was a sort of dreaminess in the +way grandpapa spoke, as if his thoughts +were looking back somehow far beyond +his words.</p> + +<p>"May we play in that garden if there's +nobody there?" asked Gerald.</p> + +<p>"Why should you want to play there?" +said grandpapa. "It does not belong to +me."</p> + +<p>"And I'm sure we couldn't have a nicer +garden than our own, and it's very big +too," said I.</p> + +<p>"We may go anywhere we like in <i>our</i> +garden, mayn't we?" said Gerald.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said grandpapa.</p> + +<p>"And if we <i>could</i> get through the door +in the wall, we might, mightn't we?" +Gerald continued in his slow, drawly way. +He speaks better now, but then he had a +way of going on once he began, all in the +same tone so that you really hardly noticed +that he was talking. I have thought since +that grandpapa didn't in the least know +what he was consenting to, when for the +second time he replied "yes."</p> + +<p>Gerald would have gone on, no doubt, +but Tib interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"Does that door lead into a tool-house, +grandpapa?" she said. Her voice was soft +and gentle. It was only I that had a quick, +sharp way of speaking.</p> + +<p>"A tool-house?" repeated grandpapa, +"oh, yes, I fancy so." He must have +thought that Tib was asking him if there +was a tool-house in the garden.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said in a rather disappointed +tone. There wasn't much mystery about +a tool-house!</p> + +<p>Just then the lane stopped, and we came +out on a path bordered by a field on one +side, and on the other by a wall which <i>was</i> +that of our own garden. Very near the +foot-path in the field lay two or three +ponds or pools of water close together, and +on one of them floated some large leaves +looking like water-lily leaves, with some +bushy high-growing green among them. +Tib darted forward.</p> + +<p>"Oh, look, Gussie," she said, "there'll be +the most lovely water forget-me-nots here +in the summer, and—" But she stopped +short in a fright, for grandpapa had caught +her by the arm and was pulling her back.</p> + +<p>"Child, take care," he said sharply, +"another minute, and you would have +been in the water. The edge is as slippery +as glass. If the field were mine, I would +soon have these pits filled in," he went on, +looking round as if he wished there were +some one at hand to give the order to on +the spot.</p> + +<p>"But they are such little pools, grandpapa, +they don't take up much room," I +objected, "and if there were water-lilies, +and forget-me-nots there in the summer, +it would be a dreadful pity to take them +away."</p> + +<p>"And when the lilies and forget-me-nots +come out, what is more likely than that you +or Mercedes should be stretching over to +get them and fall in," said grandpapa.</p> + +<p>"But if we did it wouldn't hurt us," said +I. "If Tib fell in, I would pull her out, +and if I fell in, she would pull me out."</p> + +<p>"And if both Tib and Gussie fell in I +would pull them both out," said Gerald, +feeling, I suppose, that he had been left +rather out in the cold.</p> + +<p>Grandpapa, who had been poking at +the back of the pit with his stick, turned +sharp round upon us. "Children," he said, +"listen to me. If one of you, or two of +you, or all of you fell into one of those +ponds, you would be drowned—as certainly +as that I am standing here, you would be +drowned. They are very, <i>very</i> deep—there +would be no chance of saving you, far less +than in a larger piece of water, even if it +were as deep. I cannot have the pits +filled up nor railed round, for the place +does not belong to me, and I cannot ask +anything of the person it does belong to. +All I can do is to make you promise—to +make you give your word of honour, if you +know what that means—that you will never +come here alone, and never try to reach +flowers; if you come this way with +nurse, you must pass by as quickly as +possible. Now, do you hear? Do you +quite understand? Have I your promise?"</p> + +<p>We all stood still, looking and feeling +rather frightened.</p> + +<p>"Do you promise?" repeated grandpapa.</p> + +<p>"Yes, grandpapa," we all said together, +"we do promise."</p> + +<p>"That's right," he said, and then we all +walked on in silence. Grandpapa's earnestness +had impressed us. I think the same +thought was in all our minds: "He must +love us, after all, or he would not be so +afraid of our being drowned." I don't think +we had ever felt ourselves of so much consequence +before.</p> + +<p>"Was ever anybody drowned in those +pools, please, grandpapa?" I ventured to ask.</p> + +<p>"Not that I know of," he said; "but +two or three cows have been drowned there. +The place is exceedingly dangerous—it is a +shame to leave it so. I shall speak to +Farmer Blake about it when he comes into +possession."</p> + +<p>Then we went in to tea, and early the +next morning grandpapa went back to +London.</p> + +<p>But oh! I am forgetting—before he went +he told us another thing. Our holidays +were over already. He had found us +another Miss Evans! No; I am joking. +It was not quite so bad as that. He <i>couldn't</i> +find another Miss Evans, so he had had to +make another plan. We were to have a +tutor instead of a governess; and I don't +think we were sorry to hear it. The tutor +was a young man living in the town, two +stations from <i>our</i> station, and he was to +come every morning, except Saturday, for +two hours. That wasn't so bad, was it? +He wasn't to come before half-past ten, so +we could have an hour and a half's play in +our dear garden before he came, and all the +afternoons to ourselves; for we were quite +sure we could do all the preparing of our +lessons in the evening, and grandpapa had +always been very sensible about not wanting +us to have too many lessons to do.</p> + +<p>It turned out very well. Mr. Markham +began to come that very week, but he was +really very nice, and he didn't give us too +much to do, though what he did give was +pretty hard, for he would have it done +very well. Only when we did try he was +pleased, and told us so. But of course we did +not see very much of him, as he was very busy +at his home, and he had to leave as soon as +ever lessons were over, to get back in time.</p> + +<p>We went on with our fancy play in the +tangle. In the mornings it was hardly worth +while beginning it, for if you have ever +played at that sort of game you will know +that it needs a comfortable feeling of plenty +of time before you can get into it properly. +We should have liked to dress up a little +for it, but nurse wouldn't let us do so till +the weather was warmer, and we were +obliged to promise her never to take off our +hats and jackets in the garden for fear of +catching cold. We were more in danger of +"catching hot," Gerald told her, for we +really worked pretty hard, particularly at +getting the summer-house into order. We +got some nails and a hammer from Mrs. +Munt, and hammered the broken seats +together again; we fastened on the door +rather cleverly by making hinges of an old +leather belt of Gerald's, and we put up one +or two shelves on the walls, as we called +them, on which the princess, or heiress—we +called her sometimes one, and sometimes +the other—could keep her tea-cups and +saucers in her tower. These tea-cups and +saucers were the remains of an old toy set, +which Mrs. Munt had found and given us +to play with—no doubt, Tib and I said to +each other, the "young ladies" had played +with them long ago!</p> + +<p>Then we "carted" heaps of dry leaves +from one corner, where they were really dry +and not sodden, to make a bed for her. +This carting was an uncertain sort of business, +for we had to be content with Gerald's +wheelbarrow, which was painfully low and +little, except when we could get hold of the +gardener's standing about. And <i>his</i> was, +on the contrary, disagreeably heavy and +big. But at last, one fine afternoon we +came to an end of our +labours, and stood surveying +them with considerable +satisfaction.</p> +<div><img class="figright" src="images/img127b.jpg" height="280" alt="GERALD'S WHEELBARROW" /></div> +<p>"It really looks quite +nice and comfortable," +Tib said. "I +really think +to-morrow the baron may carry her off to +the tower—he's to pretend, you know, to be +only taking her out a walk in her litter."</p> + +<p>"A <i>walk</i> in a litter," I said; "why, a +litter's a lying-down-in thing, and we +haven't got anything the least like one."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, a walk on her feet," said +Tib, testily; "that did very well the other +day," for you must understand that we +had acted it all several times, and then +we found what was wanting in the way of +scenery, &c.</p> + +<p>"If only we had the dungeon," she went +on. "It's a very poor pretence to call +those steps the dungeon—besides, they're +horribly damp and dirty."</p> + +<p>"Oh, for that part of it, all the better," I +said. "Dungeons always are damp and +dirty."</p> + +<p>"But my frock?" said Tib, ruefully. +"I <i>can't</i> sit down on those steps without +getting it horribly spoilt. If we could but +get into the tool-house!"</p> + +<p>Gerald, who was standing beside us—we +were close to the door in the wall—gave a +sudden exclamation and darted off. Tib +and I looked at each other in surprise. +"What's the matter with him?" we said. +But he was back again in a moment, holding +something in his hand. As he came +near us he put both his hands behind his +back.</p> + +<p>"I've got something," he said. "I'd +forgot about it. It was the day you teased +me I found it. And I hid it, and I was +afraid it was lost among the leaves, and all +that, but it wasn't. I'd hidden it safe. +Guess what it is."</p> + +<p>We tried, but we couldn't. Gerald raised +his hand slowly. "Shut your eyes," he +said; and we shut them. "Now open +them;" we opened them. "What is it?" +we said, breathlessly.</p> + +<p>"The key of the door!" he said, solemnly.</p> + +<p>"The key of the tool-house!" exclaimed +Tib. "How do you know it is it? Where +did you find it?"</p> + +<p>"I found it among the prickly things on +the floor of the summer-house," he replied. +"It's quite dry and clean, see!" and so it +was, as if it had been packed in sawdust.</p> + +<p>"But how do you know what key it is?" +we asked.</p> + +<p>"I tried it—I stayed behind a minute +that day; you didn't notice. It is the key. +It fits <i>pairfittly</i>," said Gerald. "Only it's +very stiff, and my hands wasn't quite strong +enough. If we all try, perhaps."</p> + +<p>He put the key into the lock. Yes, it +was evident it <i>was</i> the key, lost for who +knows how many years. How queer that +no one had ever had another made; there +was another tool-house, and one was enough, +perhaps. But still, it did seem queer. First +Tib, then I, tried to turn it, but it was +no use.</p> + +<p>"If we put a stick through the end of +the key, we might turn it that way."</p> + +<p>"But it might break it; don't you +remember we broke the nursery door key +in London by trying to turn it with a +tooth-brush handle?" I said. "It wants +oiling, Tib—that's it; not the key, perhaps, +but the lock. We must wait till to-morrow, +and get some oil in one of the doll's cups, +and a feather, and then I'm sure it'll do. +But what a bother to have to wait till +to-morrow!"</p> + +<p>There was no help for it, however. Wait +till to-morrow we must.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_6" id="ch_6"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h3> +<h4>OPEN, SESAME.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"I know thee not; but well my heart</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Interprets, darling, what thou art;</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Light of some old ancestral hall,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Queen-gem of some proud coronal!</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> For, certes, such a perfect grace,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Such lustrous loveliness of face,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Such artless majesty as thine</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Proclaims thee of no sordid line!"</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="ind2"> </span><i>The Unknown Portrait</i>—<span class="smallcaps">Sir Noel Paton.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 120px;"> +<img src="images/ch6b.jpg" width="120" alt="IT" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">here was time +the next morning, +before Mr. +Markham came, +for coaxing a little +oil out of Mrs. Munt, +and fetching a feather +from the poultry-yard, +but for no more. +For Mrs. Munt, kind +as she was, very naturally objected to +giving us the oil in one of the best tea-cups, +which Gerald had brought for the +purpose, thinking it must be "an old +one," which it was indeed, though not in +his sense of the word. So Tib ran off to +the princess's tower for one of the doll ones, +and Gerald and I went in the other +direction for a long feather. And by the +time that we were ready for operations, it +was within a quarter of an hour of lessons, +and being rather sensible children in some +ways—we had early learnt experience and +responsibility in our own affairs, having no +one to advise or arrange for us in such +matters—we decided it was better to wait +till we were sure of plenty of, and uninterrupted, +time.</div> + +<p>"You see, if Fanny came shouting for us +just as we had got into the tool-house, she +might see it, and it would be no longer a +private place of our own; we must keep it +quite for our own," I said.</p> + +<p>"<i>Certainly</i>," said Tib. "You know I +asked grandpapa about it, and he didn't +seem to mind."</p> + +<p>But lessons that morning did go very +slowly. Once or twice Mr. Markham had +to call us to attention, and there was even +a slight threat on his part of "extra work +to be done for to-morrow," if the rest of +our preparation should not prove better +done. It was not the fault of the preparation—which +had been done as well as +usual—it was that our heads were all agog +over the tool-house! But we pulled up +after this, and things ended fairly well.</p> + +<p>And at last—though not till after our +dinner, for we were never allowed more +than "a run," and that well within view of +the schoolroom window, between lessons +and dinner—we found ourselves again in +safety before the door in the wall—oil-cup +and feather in hand.</p> + +<p>We set to work methodically—with the +help of nurse's largest scissors and a +skewer—how Gerald had got the skewer I +don't know: we raked out all the little bits +of dirt and rubbish that had collected in +the lock; then we oiled it as thoroughly as +we knew how, though under the circumstances +this was certainly a process of +working in the dark. Then we carefully +inserted the key—it went in to perfection, +but we all looked at each other, and grew +hot with excitement when it came to the +moment for trying to turn it.</p> + +<p>Tib as the eldest had the first try—a +barren honour; she hurt her hands over +it, but it would not move—not a hair's +breadth! Then it came to me. I have +larger hands than Tib, and stronger +muscles; I fancy I set to work in a more +business-like manner. With me the key +turned—with groans and grunts, it must +be allowed—but still it turned—half-way! +then I too looked blank. Fortunately it +did not refuse to turn back again, and then +I took it out and looked at it reproachfully.</p> + +<p>Gerald laid hands on it. It was <i>his</i> turn, +but what I had failed in, it was not likely +his little, fat, stumpy paws would achieve. +But Gerald is sharp in some ways. He +first examined the key all over. Then he +took up the oily feather again.</p> + +<p>"See here," he said, "some parts of the +key are quite oily, but some, inside, are +quite dry. We should have oiled the key +as well as the lock."</p> + +<p>He was right; his small grasp did what +ours had failed in. Grunting and groaning +still, but forced to obey, the old key woke +from its sleep of thirty or forty years and +did the work it was made for. And in +another minute we had tugged at the door +till it moved on its rusty hinges—you will +understand afterwards how they came to be +no rustier—slowly opening and revealed—</p> + +<p>What did it reveal? For a few minutes +we were too dazzled to tell—really dazzled—as +well as amazed. A perfect flood of light +seemed to pour out upon us, and instead of +the dingy, musty tool-house we had been +expecting, we found ourselves standing at +what at first sight appeared like the entrance +to some fairy palace of brightness and brilliance. +We stood, dazed, rubbing our eyes +and looking at each other. <i>Was</i> it magic? +Had we chanced upon some such wonder of +old world times as our little heads were +stuffed with? Tib—and Gerald too, perhaps—would +have been ready to believe it. Had +the door there and then shut upon us, leaving +us but the remembrance of the vision, +they would have lived upon beautiful fancies +for the rest of their lives. But I—practical +I—did not long stand bewildered. A slight +creak of the door brought me back to common-place.</p> + +<p>"Come inside, quick!" I said, pulling at +the others—we were all huddled together +on the steps—"shut the door, or else some +one will see the light through the trees," +for I have told you how <i>very</i> dark the +tangle is, even on a bright day. "Stay—dare +we shut the door? Is there a keyhole +on the inside? Oh, yes; and not rusty at +all," and quick as thought I drew the key +out and fitted it in to the other side; it +turned now with ease. "That's right;" +and before Tib or Gerald had found out for +certain whether they were awake or dreaming, +we were all three safe inside the enchanted +palace, at liberty to look about us +and find out where we really were.</p> + +<p>I feel in a way sorry to explain it. But +this is not a fairy story; and in the end I +think you will allow, when you have come to +know the whole, that it <i>is</i> very interesting, +perhaps more interesting than a fairy story +after all. So I will go on without leaving +you in perplexity any more.</p> + +<p>The place where we found ourselves was +a conservatory: it was prettily built in a +high, round-roofed sort of way, so as to +catch all the light and sun-heat possible. +It was, to begin with, a very bright afternoon; +then the shrubbery on our side was +<i>very</i> dark; high up in the conservatory +there was a band of coloured glass, rich red, +and little bits of every colour at the edge, +like a strip of rainbow, through which the +light came in gleams of all sorts of beautiful +tints. You can easily see how startlingly +brilliant it had seemed to us; and besides +this, the conservatory itself was not at all in +a neglected state. There were few <i>pots</i> of +flowers; the shelves were mostly empty; +but there were plants growing in earth +borders along the sides, which were evidently +cared for, as they twined up the walls luxuriantly. +And the whole place was heated, +though not very much. <i>That</i>, you see, was +how the door and the lock remained in such +good condition.</p> + +<p>We found out all these particulars for +ourselves by degrees; and gradually we +noticed other things. The conservatory +had evidently, at some time or other, been +a favourite place to sit in. There was a +little <i>very</i> old and shaky rustic table, and +two or three seats to match; there was a +little corner shelf on which still lay two or +three old books. After we had got over +our first surprise, we were conscious of +something about the whole place which +made the tears come to our eyes. But our +spirits soon rose again.</p> + +<p>"<i>What</i> a bower for the princess!" exclaimed +Tib.</p> + +<p>I felt quite out of patience with her.</p> + +<p>"Rubbish!" I said, "I can't think any +more of the princess or any make-up things. +This is <i>far</i> more interesting. I want to +find out all about what place it is, and why +it is shut up and deserted, as it evidently +is."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's been shut up for hundreds +of years," suggested Gerald.</p> + +<p>"<i>That's</i> rubbish, if you like," answered +Tib. "It doesn't look as if anybody lived +here, but it's not dirty—scarcely even dusty."</p> + +<p>"There must be some other way of getting +into it besides our door, then," I said, +"for certainly the <i>door</i> hasn't been opened +for a great many years. If we look about, +perhaps we'll find some other entrance."</p> + +<p>At first sight there was no appearance of +any, and we began to think the conservatory +must, after all, belong to Rosebuds, and that +from time to time the gardener <i>did</i> open the +door and get in to clean it. Only why, then, +was it always locked up? Just as we were +feeling quite puzzled, Gerald called out—</p> + +<p>"Oh! see here, Tib and Gussie, this is +another door—here in the glass; here's a +handle that turns. Why, see, it's a door +made of looking-glass!"</p> + +<p>That was why we had not noticed it. It +was cleverly managed to imitate panes, like +the rest of the conservatory, and it was +somewhat in the shade in one corner. There +was no lock to this door; it opened at once, +and before us we saw a long, rather narrow, +covered passage, lighted by a skylight roof. It +was all growing more and more mysterious; +half frightened, but too eager and curious +to think of being afraid, on we ran. The +passage ended in a short flight of steps, at +the top of which was another door, a regular +proper door this time, with a handle and a +lock, but no key in the lock.</p> + +<p>"Oh! supposing it's locked," I cried, +excitedly; "it will be too bad. We can't +find out any more."</p> + +<p>But it wasn't. The key, as we afterwards +found, was inside, and not turned in the +lock. They were evidently not very afraid +of robbers. All the years the house had +stood empty, no one had ever broken into +it; we were the first intruders.</p> + +<p>We pressed forward. First we found +ourselves in a sort of little ante-room, very +small, hardly bigger than a closet, and out +of this, through another door, opened a +very large and handsome drawing-room. +It had a row of windows at one side looking +out upon a terrace, and a large bow window +at one end, with closely-drawn blinds—we +could not see what it looked on to; the floor +was of beautifully polished wood, inlaid in +a pattern such as you see more often in +French houses than in English ones; the +two mantelpieces were very high, and beautifully +carved, and from the centre of the +ceiling hung an immense gilt and crystal +chandelier, covered up in muslin. There +was not much furniture in the room, and +what there was looked stiff and cold: two +or three great cabinets against the walls, +and some gilt consol-tables, and in one +corner a group of sofas, and chairs, and +arm-chairs all drawn together, and all in +white linen covers. Everything was handsome, +and stately, and melancholy; the +very feeling of the room told you it +had not been really lived in for many +a day.</p> + +<p>But the one thing which caught our +attention was a life-size portrait hanging +at the end of the room opposite the bow +window. It was the only picture of any +kind, and even though we were ignorant +children, we could see in a moment that it +was a very beautiful one. It represented a +young girl, richly dressed in the fashion of +a hundred years ago or more, with long-waisted +bodice, and skirt of white satin, +looped up over an under-one of rose-coloured +brocade. She was standing on a +terrace—this very terrace we afterwards +found—her hat hanging on her arm, and a +greyhound beside her. It was all pretty +much the same as one often sees in portraits +of that time, but her face was <i>so</i> charming! +And immediately we saw it, both Gerald +and I exclaimed—</p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/img145.jpg"> + <img src="images/img145.jpg" height="400" + alt="LOOKING AT THE PORTRAIT" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"><span class="small"><i>The one thing which caught our +attention was a life-size portrait.</i></span><br /> + <span class="caption">Click to <a href="images/img145.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p>"Oh, Tib, she is exactly like you!" and +going close to examine it more particularly, +I saw some letters in one corner, and, to +my immense surprise, they were those of +the name scored out in the old book, +"Ornaments Discovered," and of Tib's +second name also—"Regina." The initials +of the artist—"L.K.," I think—were there +also.</p> + +<p>"It is my name," said Tib, opening her +eyes in astonishment; "how very strange! +Can it be the picture of some great-great-grandmother +of ours, I wonder? +But this is not grandpapa's house. +How could any portrait of our family +be here?"</p> + +<p>We were completely puzzled, but, children-like, +we did not think very much more about +it. It was such fun to slide up and down +the polished floor, or to climb over among +the shrouded chairs and sofas, and make +ourselves a comfortable nest among them. +For it was plain that our discoveries were +not to go further—the large double doors +of this drawing-room were securely locked +from the outside.</p> + +<p>We went close up to this door, putting +our ears to the keyhole even, and listened, +but not the least sound was to be heard.</p> + +<p>"The house must be shut up," I said. +"There is certainly no one moving about +in it."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it is enchanted," said Gerald, +in an awe-struck tone. "Perhaps that lady +is <i>really</i> alive, and the fairies have fastened +her up into that picture till—till—" and he +hesitated; his imagination had come to an +end of its flight.</p> + +<p>Tib and I looked at each other without +speaking. We did not snub Gerald as we +often did for such speeches—somehow it +didn't seem so very impossible! Everything +was so strange; the room itself so +unlike anything we had ever seen, the +mysterious way into it, the silence and +desertedness, yet the signs of care; above +all, the portrait so wonderfully like Tib, and +actually bearing her name. There was no +explaining it by anything we could think +of or imagine.</p> + +<p>"We may as well use it all to make a +play of," said Tib, at last, returning to her +favourite idea. "We can pretend that the +lady in the portrait <i>is</i> the princess something, +as Gerald says. Yes, it would be +still nicer to make her be enchanted instead +of only shut up, and then, Gussie, you +must help me to plan how she's to be got +out."</p> + +<p>"But, Tib," I said, "do you think we can +come here again? Don't you think grandpapa +would mind, after all he said to us +about not making friends, or going into any +houses in the village?"</p> + +<p>"And are we making friends?" said Tib. +"Unless the portrait comes out of its +frame some day, and begins talking to +us, there's certainly nobody else to talk +to here."</p> + +<p>"Do you think there's nobody living in +the house?" I said, doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure there's not. Most likely some +one comes to dust it every now and then."</p> + +<p>"And don't you remember," said Gerald, +"that last Sunday I asked grandpapa if we +might come through the door in the wall if +we <i>could</i>, and he said 'yes'? P'r'aps he +knew about this place, and didn't mind if +we did come here to play."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," I said; "anyway we can ask +him the next time he comes."</p> + +<p>"We needn't say anything about it to +Mrs. Munt, or nurse," said Tib, decidedly. +"As long as we haven't been told <i>not</i> to +come, we're not disobeying, and it's much +nicer not to ask any one but grandpapa +himself."</p> + +<p>With that I quite agreed, especially as I +felt sure grandpapa himself would like +it better. We knew we were doing no +mischief; there was nobody to speak to, as +Tib had said, so we felt quite at ease, and +spent a most agreeable afternoon. When +we had examined everything there was in +the big drawing-room, or saloon, as Tib +preferred to call it—and that did not take +us very long; there were no curiosities or +small ornaments about, as in the Rosebuds +drawing-room—we began to plan again +about our play story. We arranged it most +beautifully, and the portrait was a great +help, for it almost gave us another actor, as +we could always pretend it was the princess, +when Tib was wanted for another person. +And it was such a wonderfully life-like +picture—you could really have fancied its +expression changed as we talked to it.</p> + +<p>But at last we began to get frightened +that we should be missed at home if we +stayed any longer.</p> + +<p>"We must go, Gussie," said Tib, "let us +all say good-night to the princess. It is +sad to leave you alone here, princess," she +went on, turning to the portrait, and +speaking in the tone of one of the ladies in +the play, who were going to help her to +escape, "but, alas, there is no other way to +do. If we stayed longer we should only be +suspected of plotting, so we must resign +ourselves."</p> + +<p>"And I dare say you're pretty well +accustomed to being left alone by this time. +You must be nearly a hundred years old, +though you look so young," said Gerald, as +he bowed to her. I could not help laughing, +though Tib was rather vexed.</p> + +<p>"I wish you wouldn't think it clever to +turn everything into ridicule, Gerald," but he +looked up with such a surprised face that +we saw he hadn't been in fun at all.</p> + +<p>"There's one thing we'd better do if we +want ever to get in here again," I said. +"We must hide the key of the door leading +from the passage. I dare say the person +who comes to dust will never notice it's +not there. They can't be in the habit of +locking it regularly; but it's as well to +hide it," and so saying, I took the key out +of the lock and slipped it inside a drawer +of one of the big cabinets, where it may be +lying still, for all I know (I must look, by +the by: writing this all out has reminded +me of several things I had forgotten).</p> + +<p>Then we closed the door carefully and +ran down the passage to the conservatory +again, where we found everything just as +we had left it—<i>our</i> key, as we called it, +sticking in the lock inside. It was still +rather stiff to turn—and the next morning +we oiled it again—but we managed to unlock +it, and then to lock the door again on +the outside.</p> + +<p>And Gerald ran off with the key to hide +it again in the summer-house; only we +wrapped it up in paper before burying it in +the fir dust.</p> + +<p>"Who would have thought," said Tib, +as we ran in, "who <i>could</i> have thought, +what we should find this afternoon?"</p> + +<p>But our surprises, as you shall hear, were +not yet at an end.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_7" id="ch_7"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h3> +<h4>GRANDPAPA'S SECRETARY.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">…. "Children are the best judges of character at first +sight in the world."—<span class="smallcaps">Hogg.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 130px;"> +<img src="images/ch7b.jpg" width="130" alt="G" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">randpapa +did not come +down to Rosebuds +again for +three or four +weeks. Mrs. Munt +wrote to him regularly +to tell him how we +were, and we, once +or twice—it was she who put it in +our heads, I must confess—wrote a +little scrap to put inside hers, for which +he told her to thank us when he wrote +back to her, but he never sent <i>us</i> any +letter.</div> + +<p>We didn't mind his not coming, except +that now and then we thought we should +like to tell him of our discovery, and hear +what he said about it. But we were very +happy; we never cared to go out for walks, +which I don't think nurse regretted; we +always said we were much happier playing +about. And the conservatory and the saloon +became our regular haunts every, or almost +every, afternoon. No one ever disturbed +us—we never heard the slightest sound in +the house where the big drawing-room was; +indeed, for all we knew, it might not have +been a house at all, but just that one large +room, for the other door—the proper door +of the room—was never opened. We tried +it two or three times; it was always firmly +locked. But still it was clear that somebody +came to dust the room and the conservatory, +if not every day, at least two or three times +a week, for they were not allowed to get any +dustier.</p> + +<p>It was a good thing we were quiet +children, not given to mischief, or rough +and wild, otherwise we might have done +harm in some way, such as breaking the +glass in the conservatory, or spoiling the +beautiful "parquet" floor. And we certainly +would have been discovered. It was +partly the fear of this that made us so +careful, as well as a queer fancy we had that +the picture on the wall—the princess, as we +still called her—watched all we did, and +that she would be very vexed if we were +not quite good.</p> + +<p>"Of course," Tib used to say, "it's a great +honour to be allowed to play in a palace, +and we must show we are to be trusted."</p> + +<p>For after a while we got tired of our play-story +about the baron and the humpback +and all the rest of it, and then we pretended +that we came to visit the princess in her +beautiful palace, and that she was very kind +to us indeed.</p> + +<p>Sometimes we brought our books and +work with us; on a rainy day we always +found it difficult to get to our secret haunts, +for of course we wouldn't tell stories about +it, and nurse naturally didn't approve of our +going out in the damp. But after a while, +when nurse found that we came in quite +dry, and that we never caught cold even +when she left us to our own devices on a +wet day, she gave up being so fidgety, and +so we often did get to our palace all the +same.</p> + +<p>One Friday at last there came a letter, +saying grandpapa would be down the next +day and a gentleman with him.</p> + +<p>"What a bore that he's not coming alone," +said I. "We shan't have a word with him, +and the gentleman's sure to be one of those +stupid Parliamentary people that talk to +grandpapa about 'the House,' and 'so-and-so's +bill,' all the time." For we had had +some experience of grandpapa's friends +sometimes at Ansdell, when we had come in +to dessert and heard them talking. "I +wonder if they go on all day long in the +'House' about bills, Tib? There must be a +fearful lot of people who never pay theirs if +it takes all those clever gentlemen all their +time to be settling about them in the +'House.'" We were rather proud of knowing +what the "House" meant, you see. +We thought from grandpapa's being in it, +that we knew all about the government +things.</p> + +<p>Tib looked rather solemn.</p> + +<p>"I suppose it's because of the National +Debt," she said. "It shows how careful +people should be not to spend too much, +doesn't it, Gussie? But I'm not sure that +I care to speak to grandpapa more than +usual. I'm so awfully afraid of his stopping +us going to the palace."</p> + +<p>"<i>Are</i> you?" said I. "I'm not. That is +to say, if I thought he'd mind it, I wouldn't +go there. What I want is to <i>find out</i> +about it from him. I have still such an idea +that it has something to do with the old +mystery."</p> + +<p>"If I thought that," said Tib, "I'd be +far too frightened to tell him about it."</p> + +<p>We spent a long time that afternoon in +the big drawing-room. When we were +coming away, we all somehow felt a little +melancholy.</p> + +<p>"We are pretty sure not to be able to +come to-morrow, and certainly not on +Sunday," said Tib, sadly. "Dear princess," +she went on, looking at the portrait, "you +mustn't forget us if we don't come to see +you for a few days. It won't be <i>our</i> fault, +you may be sure;" and really we could +have fancied that the sweet face smiled at +us as we turned to go.</p> + +<p>We were playing on the lawn when grandpapa +arrived the next day. Nurse had +intended to have us all solemnly prepared, +like the last time, but he came by an earlier +train, and somehow she didn't know about +it early enough, so we were all in our garden +things quite comfortably messy, when we +heard the sound of wheels, and looking +round, saw to our astonishment that it was +the dog-cart.</p> + +<p>There was no help for it; we hadn't even +time to wash our hands, and there was no +use trying to get out of the way, for to have +gone hurry-skurrying off as if we were +ashamed would have vexed grandpapa more +than anything, especially as he had a friend +with him. So we marched boldly across +the lawn and stood waiting, while the +gentlemen got down.</p> + +<p>"How do you do, grandpapa?" I said. +"We didn't expect you quite so soon."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said he, as he kissed us in his +usual cool sort of way, "an unwelcome surprise—eh?"</p> + +<p>Tib got red at this, and looked as if she +were going to cry. But I didn't feel inclined +to be put down like that, before a +stranger, too.</p> + +<p>"No, grandpapa; it's not an unwelcome +surprise, but we would have liked to have +been tidier; you know we generally are +<i>quite</i> tidy when you see us."</p> + +<p>"For my part, I prefer to see small +people when they're <i>not</i> very tidy," said a +pleasant, hearty voice; and then the owner +of it came round from the other side of the +dog-cart where he had jumped down. "You +must introduce me, Mr. Ansdell, please, to +my—small, I was going to say, but I'm +surprised to see the word would be almost +a libel—cousins."</p> + +<p>"Umph," said grandpapa, "'cousins,' in +the Scotch sense; how many degrees removed, +it would be difficult to say."</p> + +<p>"<i>I've</i> not been taught to count you so +very far away," said the gentleman, good-humouredly, +but with something in his tone +that showed he wasn't the sort of person +to be very easily put down; "besides, +sir, as I'm your <i>godson</i> as well as your +cousin<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"I might be a little more civil, eh, +Charles?" said grandpapa, laughing a little. +"Ah, well, I'm too old to learn, I fear. +Nevertheless, I have no objection to your +calling each other cousins if you choose. +Mercedes, Gustava, and Gerald—your +cousin, Mr. Charles Truro."</p> + +<p>We looked at him, and he looked at us. +What we saw was a well-made, pleasant-looking +young man, not very tall, though +not short, with merry-looking grey eyes, +close cut brown hair, and a particularly +kindly expression, a great improvement +upon most of grandpapa's gentlemen friends, +who never looked at us as if they saw us.</p> + +<p>"Mercedes and Gustava," he repeated, +slowly. "I thought one of them was called +Re<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>But grandpapa interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"Mercedes is an absurd name for an +English child," he said. "It was a fancy +of poor Gerald's—they were in Spain, you +know."</p> + +<p>"But you needn't call Tib 'Mercedes,' +unless you like," I said, boldly—I don't +really know what spirit of defiance, perhaps +of curiosity, made me say it—"she has +another name; her second name is Regina, +like<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>Would you believe it? I was on the point +of saying "like the picture;" but I cut +myself short before I said more, and even +had I not stopped, grandpapa's tone would +have startled me into doing so.</p> + +<p>"Will you be so good, Gustava, as to +answer questions and remarks that are addressed +to you, and those only?" he said, +in his horrible, icy way.</p> + +<p><i>I</i> felt myself getting red now, especially +as I was certain Mr. Truro was looking at +me. I made a silent vow that I wouldn't +try to be nicer to grandpapa, and that I +would <i>certainly</i> not tell him about our +secret. This comforted me a little, and I +glanced up, to find that the stranger was +looking at me, but in such a nice way that I +couldn't have felt vexed if I had tried.</p> + +<p>"Will you take me round the garden?" +he said. "I am quite stiff with sitting so +long."</p> + +<p>He spoke to us all, but I think he meant +it most for me. Grandpapa didn't seem to +mind. I think that when he had said anything +very crabbed, he <i>was</i> sorry, though +he wouldn't say so.</p> + +<p>"Don't be very long, Charles," he said, +as he went into the house and we turned +the other way, "I shall want you to look +over those papers."</p> + +<p>"All right, sir, I won't be long," Mr. +Truro called back in his cheery tone.</p> + +<p>"Why does he want you to do his +papers?" I asked.</p> + +<p>Mr. Truro laughed.</p> + +<p>"Because I'm acting as Mr. Ansdell's +secretary just now," he said.</p> + +<p>Tib looked disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, "I thought you were a<span class="nowrap">——</span>" +and she stopped.</p> + +<p>"Say on," said Mr. Truro.</p> + +<p>"A—a gentleman," said Tib.</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope I am," he said, smiling.</p> + +<p>"But doesn't he," I said, nodding my +head towards the house, for I perfectly understood +what Tib meant, "pay you for +being that?"</p> + +<p>"In point of fact Mr. Ansdell does <i>not</i> +pay me," he said. "What I learn from +being with him is far more valuable than +money to me. But all the same, if your +grandfather <i>did</i> pay me for my services, <i>that</i> +would not make me less of a gentleman!" +and Mr. Truro stood erect, and gave a little +toss to his head, which showed he could be +in earnest when he liked. But then he +laughed again, and we saw he was not +really vexed. "May I make a remark in +turn?" he said. "Are you young people +in the habit of talking of Mr. Ansdell +as 'he' and 'him?' 'She,' I know, +is 'the cat.' I have yet to learn who +'he' is."</p> + +<p>We laughed, but we blushed too, a +little.</p> + +<p>"We don't always," said Tib; "but you +see you <i>are</i> a cousin; mayn't we tell him +things?" she exclaimed, impulsively, turning +to Gerald and me. "He's got such a kind +face, and—and we haven't anybody like +other children."</p> + +<p>Mr. Truro turned his face away for half a +second. I fancy he didn't want us to see +how sorry he looked. By this time we had +sauntered round to the other side of the +lawn, out of sight of the house almost. +There was a garden seat near where we +stood. Mr. Truro took Tib and me by the +hand, and Gerald trotted after.</p> + +<p>"Let's sit down," he said. "Now, that's +comfortable. Yes, dears, I <i>am</i> a cousin, +and I think you'll find me a faithful one. +Do tell me 'things.' I won't let you say +anything not right of your grandfather; +there is no man living I respect more. But +perhaps I may help you to understand him +better."</p> + +<p>"Is he never cross to you?" asked Tib; +"at least, not so much cross as that horrid +laughy-at-you-way—laughy without being +funny or nice, you know."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do know," he answered. "I +think Mr. Ansdell is inclined to be that way +to everybody a little. I wish you could +hear how he makes some of them smart now +and then in the House."</p> + +<p>"The people who don't pay their bills—the +people who make the National Debt, do +you mean?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"The how much?" asked our new cousin +in his turn, opening his eyes very wide.</p> + +<p>And when I explained what I meant, +about all the talk we had heard about <i>bills</i>, +and how Tib had read something about the +National Debt, and thought it must mean +that, you should have seen how he laughed; +not a bit like grandpapa, but just <i>roaring</i>. +I know better now, of course. I know that +there are different kinds of bills, and that +the ones we had heard of being talked about +in Parliament are new plans or proposals +that the gentlemen there—"members," like +grandpapa—want to have made into laws, +because they think they would be good +laws. I know, too, pretty well—at least a +little—about the National Debt, and that +somehow it isn't a bad thing, though little +debts are very bad things. I don't see how, +but I suppose I shall understand when <i>I'm</i> +big, that things that are bad when they're +little aren't always bad when they're +very big.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Truro had finished laughing, +he began to listen to all we had to tell him. +You would hardly believe how much we +told him. Indeed, when we thought it +over afterwards we could hardly believe it +ourselves; to think that here was a strange +gentleman we hadn't known an hour, whose +name we had never heard in our lives, and +that we were talking to him as we had +never before talked to anybody. He had +such a way of looking as if he really <i>cared</i> +to hear. I think it was that that made it +so easy to talk to him; and then, of course, +his being a cousin made a difference. He +wasn't a very near one, but I have noticed +that sometimes rather far-off cousins care +for you quite as much or more than much +nearer ones. And anything in the shape of +a cousin was a great deal to us; we had +never heard of having any at all.</p> + +<p>After we had chattered away for some +time, some little remark, I forget what +exactly, something about what we did with +ourselves all day after lessons were over, +seeing that we had no friends or companions, +for we had told him about grandpapa's not +allowing us to know any neighbours; something +of that kind brought us dreadfully +near the subject of our discovery. We had +already said <i>something</i>, though very little, +about the old book with the scored-out +name, and Mr. Truro listened eagerly, +though it struck me afterwards more than +at the time that he had not seemed very +surprised.</p> + +<p>And when we did not at once answer +about how we amused ourselves, he repeated +the question. We looked at each +other. Then Tib got rather red, and said, +quietly,</p> + +<p>"We can't tell you all we do, at least, I +don't think we can," she said, glancing at +Gerald and me.</p> + +<p>Mr. Truro looked a little startled.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" he said. "I am sure, at +least I think I may be, that you wouldn't +do anything you shouldn't. If, for example, +you had been tempted to make friends with +any of the village children, it would be +much better to tell your grandfather; he +might not mind if they were good children, +even if they were not of the same class as +you. But it would be wrong not to tell him."</p> + +<p>We began to feel a little frightened, and +for the first time a misgiving came over us +that perhaps grandpapa might be angry at +our having played in the palace. I suppose +our faces grew so solemn that Mr. Truro felt +more uneasy.</p> + +<p>"Come now," he said, "can't you tell me +all about it? I don't look very ogre-y, do +I? That is, if you've no real objection to +telling me before you tell Mr. Ansdell."</p> + +<p>"We meant to tell him; we were going +to tell him to-day," I said. "Indeed, we, +at least I, <i>wanted</i> to tell him. I thought +perhaps he'd explain, or that we'd find out +about it. But he isn't as kind this time as +he was the last, and perhaps he'd be angry, +really angry. I never thought before that +it was a thing he could be angry about, +did you, Tib?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Tib, faintly; "and it would +be so dreadful not to go there any more."</p> + +<p>Gerald began to cry.</p> + +<p>Mr. Truro's face grew graver and graver.</p> + +<p>"My dear children," he began, "my dear +little cousins, I must speak very earnestly +to you. You must tell this secret, whatever +it is, to your grandfather. It might not +make him angry just now, but if you did +<i>not</i> tell him, I very much fear it might."</p> + +<p>"But he is so very sharp to-day," +said Tib; "you could see he was. And +when he is like that we can't tell things +properly, and it somehow seems as if we +were naughty when we aren't really. We +can't tell him <i>to-day</i>, can we?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Truro reflected.</p> + +<p>"It is true," he said, "that Mr. Ansdell +is <i>particularly</i> busy and worried. He has +been terribly overworked lately; indeed, he +came down here expressly to be able to +work without interruption. Can't you +confide in me, children? I promise to +advise you to the very best of my +ability."</p> + +<p>"And you wouldn't tell him—grandpapa, +I mean," said Tib, correcting herself, "without +<i>telling</i> us you were going to?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not. I should have no right +to tell him without your leave," he replied.</p> + +<p>We all looked at each other again.</p> + +<p>"I suppose we'd better, then," I said. +"You begin, Tib. It's rather difficult to +think where it began," I went on. "It had +to do with grandpapa telling us so about +not knowing the neighbours, or making +friends with any one, and we had never +heard of Rosebuds before, you know, and +then I remembered seeing it in the book, +and Tib likes mysteries so, and<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"Take breath, Gussie, there's no such +dreadful hurry," said Mr. Truro, and his +face grew more smiling as I went on.</p> + +<p>"We fixed to make a story about it. +It didn't seem like prying to play at it +that way," said Tib.</p> + +<p>And then we went on to tell all about +the imprisoned princess, and the old arbour, +and the supposed tool-house, which was to +be a dungeon, and Gerald finding the key, +and just everything—all that I have written; +I needn't tell it all again. And with every +word Mr. Truro's kind face grew kinder and +brighter; all the grave, uneasy look went +quite out of it, and this, of course, made it +much easier to tell it all quite comfortably. +By the time we had quite finished—it took +a good while, for Gerald <i>would</i> interrupt to +tell that <i>he</i> had found the key, and <i>he</i> had +made it turn when Tib and Gussie couldn't—Mr. +Truro's face had grown more than +bright, it looked quite beaming.</p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/img181.jpg"> + <img src="images/img181.jpg" height="400" + alt="TALKING TO MR. TRURO" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"><span class="small"><i>"I +would like best of all to call you 'Regina'."</i></span><br /> + <span class="caption">Click to <a href="images/img181.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p>"And the portrait of the princess is like +Tib, you say—Mercedes, I <i>should</i> say? I +would like best of all to call you 'Regina';" +and he passed his hand softly over Tib's +dark hair.</p> + +<p>"Awfully like Tib, only prettier," I said, +bluntly. But Tib didn't mind. Something +in Mr. Truro's tone had caught her +attention.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever know any one called +Regina?" she asked. "You seem to like +it so."</p> + +<p>Mr. Truro did not answer for a moment. +Then he said, quietly, "It is a family name +with me, too. I have heard it all my life. +You know I am your cousin."</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course," we all said.</p> + +<p>Then he went on to talk of what we had +been telling him.</p> + +<p>"Will you let me think over about it?" +he said. "I am the last person to advise +you not to tell your grandfather <i>everything</i>, +but I do not think it would be wise to tell +him anything just now, as he is extremely +busy and worried. I will tell you what I +think you should do before I go."</p> + +<p>Of course we agreed readily to what he +said.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_8" id="ch_8"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> +<h4>STEPPED OUT OF THE FRAME.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"And, even as one on household stairs,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Who meets an angel unawares,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> Might hold his breath; in silent awe</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> We stood."</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="ind2"> </span><i>The Unknown Portrait</i>—<span class="smallcaps">Sir Noel Paton</span>.</td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 140px;"> +<img src="images/ch8b.jpg" width="140" alt="W" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">e saw very little +of grandpapa +during this visit, +and not as much +of Mr. Truro as +we would have +liked. For it was +some very bothering +time about government things, and +everybody that had to do with them +was very busy. We came in to dessert, as +we always did, and grandpapa was kind in +his own way. He seemed pleased that we +were such good friends with Mr. Truro. I +remember he said something to him about +his having done already what <i>he</i>—grandpapa—had +not been able to do himself—"gained +our hearts," or something like that. +And Mr. Truro answered. "You could if +you would, sir, or probably you <i>have</i> if you +would but think so." But grandpapa only +shook his head, though he smiled a little in +a nice way.</div> + +<p>And then they began talking again about +all the papers and writings they had to do, +and we got tired of sitting still, and fidgeted +with the wine glasses and things on the +table, so that grandpapa told us we had +better go to bed.</p> + +<p>The next day, Sunday, was pouring wet.</p> + +<p>We didn't see either grandpapa or our +cousin till we were sitting in church. We +had come with nurse in the one-horse fly, +which knew it always had to come for us +on wet Sundays, and we didn't hear +anything of the two gentlemen. We +couldn't bear the long drive in the stuffy +fly, and we did not like the church, for +the clergyman was old, and mumbled his +words, and the music wasn't nice nor +anything else.</p> + +<p>"If we might only go to the pretty +church in the village!" we whispered to +each other, as we whispered every Sunday. +For this about the church was the thing +we disliked at Rosebuds, and at Ansdell +we loved going to church. It was so nice; +beautiful hummy music and lovely singing, +and all so pretty. And the clergyman with +a nice clear voice, and not too long +sermons. And—perhaps you will be shocked +at this—everybody at Ansdell knew us, +and there was always a little sort of rustle +when we went in, and I could almost hear +the school-girls talking in whispers about +"our young ladies' hats;" and if we +happened to see one of them we knew, +and gave her a little nod and smile, she +looked as proud as proud! It was just as +different as could be from this ugly, stupid +little church that grandpapa had taken it +into his head to make us go to here, and +we were very pleased when we saw Mr. +Truro coming up the aisle after grandpapa, +both of them looking so nice and grand, +even though in a way we felt ashamed for +our cousin to see what an ugly little church +it was.</p> + +<p>"He'll see for himself," I whispered to +Tib, "and perhaps he'll say something to +grandpapa."</p> + +<p>For we were beginning to think of Mr. +Truro as a sort of good fairy who was to +put everything right.</p> + +<p>Grandpapa and he had driven over in +the dog-cart of course; they didn't mind +the rain, though I'm sure <i>we</i> didn't mind +it either, for that matter—we should only +have been too happy to drive over in the +dog-cart under waterproofs and mackintoshes; +and when we were getting into the +fly after church, Gerald looked so woebegone, +that Mr. Truro took pity on him, +and picked him out again.</p> + +<p>"I'll find a corner for you where you +shan't get wet," he said, in his nice, bright +way.</p> + +<p>Lucky Gerald! we heard him chattering +as he went off in Mr. Truro's arms. "You +know it <i>is</i> worstest for me, isn't it? for I'm +only seven, and it does make my head +ache so."</p> + +<p>I suppose he had—what is it you call +it?—squeams of conscience, is that the word? +I must ask Re—oh, how stupid I am! that +it was selfish of him to desert us. He +always takes refuge in his being the +youngest and "only seven," as it was <i>then</i>, +when he is afraid he is going to be blamed.</p> + +<p>But, after all, it was a good deal better +in the fly without him. Nurse doesn't +think it rude of us to whisper when we are +alone with her, so Tib and I could say anything +we liked to each other all the way +home, without Gerald's rosy round face +poking in between us every moment to +say, "<i>What</i> did you say, Tib?" "I can't +hear, Gussie!"</p> + +<p>What we did keep saying to each other +was mostly about Mr. Truro. What was he +going to fix we should do? Would he +"think it over" till he found out we should +tell grandpapa at once; and if grandpapa +were worried, and said in a hurry we must +never go to our palace any more, how +horrible it would be!</p> + +<p>"I don't <i>think</i> he will," said Tib. "He's +so very understanding. If he could only +see the place himself, he would quite understand +that we can't get any harm there, or +do any mischief."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "I wish we could have +shown it him. Besides, if he's our cousin, +and has heard about 'Reginas,' he <i>might</i> +find out something about our princess."</p> + +<p>But Tib didn't care about this idea.</p> + +<p>"I don't want it spoilt," she said; "I've +got used to her being just our princess, and +to there being a mystery. I don't want to +undo it."</p> + +<p>It didn't look very like undoing it. We +never saw Mr. Truro all that afternoon, and +it was one of the longest I ever remember. +It cleared up about tea-time, and we went +three times round the lawn, on the gravel +path, of course, and we saw grandpapa at +the drawing-room window, which he had +thrown open for some air, as we came in, +and he asked us if we had seen Mr. Truro. +And when we said no, he turned away, +saying, rather crossly, "I wish he'd be +quick; I'm sure it's not a very tempting day +for a long walk," and Tib and I rather +agreed with Gerald that we shouldn't much +care to be grandpapa's "Scretchetary."</p> + +<p>But late that evening—near bed-time it +was—we heard a quick step coming to the +schoolroom door.</p> + +<p>"May I come in?" said Mr. Truro's +voice.</p> + +<p>We all jumped up to welcome him, and +nurse discreetly retired.</p> + +<p>"I can't stay long, dears," he said, "and +we are off first thing to-morrow morning. +But listen; I don't think you need speak to +your grandfather about your discovery just +now. Wait till he comes back the next +time, a fortnight hence. I shall come with +him, and he will not then be nearly so busy. +I have satisfied myself that you cannot +come to any harm in your palace, and I am +sure you will do no mischief there."</p> + +<p>"No; and <i>perhaps</i> grandpapa knew of +it—what do you think?—the day he said +we might go through the door in the wall +if we could. And he only forbade us +making friends with people."</p> + +<p>"Not with portraits," said Mr. Truro, +with a smile. "Well, good-bye, my dear +little cousins. I can't tell you how pleased +I am to have made friends with you."</p> + +<p>He stooped and kissed us all, hurriedly, +for we heard doors opening, and a voice in +the distance, which we were quite sure was +grandpapa's, "Where is Mr. Truro?" and +then he was gone, and we didn't see him +again the next morning.</p> + +<p>It almost seemed like a dream his having +been at Rosebuds at all, especially when we +again found ourselves in the saloon that +afternoon, our dear princess smiling down +at us as usual.</p> + +<p>"You don't know, princess, what a nice +new cousin we have got," we said to her, for +we had got into the way of telling her +everything that interested us; "I'm sure +you'd like him, and I'm sure he'd like <i>you</i>," +Tib went on, and we really could have +fancied the sweet, proud face gave a little +amused smile. "I think he was very sorry +not to come to see you, but perhaps he will +the next time he's here."</p> + +<p>Then we went on with some of our usual +plays, and we were as happy as could be. +It seemed somehow a good long while since +we had been in the palace, though in reality +it was only three days, and we were +tempted to stay a little later than usual. +But just as we were thinking we must go, +a rather queer thing happened. You remember +my telling you that the other door +of the saloon, the real big door, which must +have been the regular way of coming into +the room from the rest of the house—if +there was a house—I don't think we had +really ever thought seriously if there was a +house, or if the saloon was a sort of pavilion +in a garden all by itself—well, this door +was locked, firmly locked; we had tried it +two or three times, but it was quite fast. +Not stuck or stiff, or anything like that, +but quite locked. But this day, just as we +were coming away, we heard a little, very +little, faint squeak, like some one trying to +open or shut a door very, very softly, and +looking at the big heavy gilt handles—it +was a double door, with two sets of +handles and all that, you understand—we +distinctly saw one of them turn, +and then all was quiet and motionless +again.</p> + +<p>We looked at each other, and then we all +darted forward—I think it <i>was</i> rather brave +of us—and seized <i>the</i> handle. It turned +certainly, easily enough, as door handles +generally do, but that was all. The door +didn't open; it was as firmly fastened as +before.</p> + +<p>"If we hadn't <i>all</i> seen it," said Tib, "I +should have thought it was fancy."</p> + +<p>But we were satisfied that it wasn't.</p> + +<p>"Whoever turned the handle must have +locked the door again on the other side as +quick as thought," I said. "They must +have been peeping in at us without our +hearing, and then when they heard the +squeak the handle made as they were +closing the door again, they must have +quietly locked it, expecting us to come to see +who was there. I wonder who it was!"</p> + +<p>We all wondered, but in vain.</p> + +<p>"It <i>may</i> have only been the person who +comes in to dust," said Tib; "there +must be such a person, unless the princess +herself comes out of her frame in the +night to do it. Only if it were that +person, most likely she'd have come +in and asked us who we were, and +what business we had there; it's very +queer."</p> + +<p>We decided when we went home that the +next day we should make our way in as +quietly as we possibly could, so that if any +one were there, they shouldn't hear us in +time to run away.</p> + +<p>"And we'll sit quite still all the afternoon," +said Gerald; "we won't make the +least bit of noise, so that they'll think we're +not there, and then they'll come straight +in."</p> + +<p>"They must have known we were there +to-day; it's not likely they'll come straight +in if they don't want us to see them," said +Tib. "I can't make it out; whoever they +are, they've more right there than we have. +I think the only way is to take our +books to-day and sit quietly reading; and +we had better hide ourselves as much as we +can, so that we shouldn't be seen all at +once."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you at all frightened?" said +Gerald. "S'pose it was some kind of robbers?"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," said I. "Mr. Truro said +he was satisfied we couldn't come to any +harm there: I believe what he said. +I'm not going to be frightened—are you +Tib?"</p> + +<p>"N—no. I don't think so," she +replied, rather doubtfully. "Any way, +I shouldn't at all like never to go there +again."</p> + +<p>But we all three did feel very excited the +next afternoon, and I think all our hearts +were beating a good deal faster than usual +as we noiselessly made our way out of +the conservatory and along the passage +now so familiar to us, through the little +anteroom, and then, as quietly as possible, +opened the door into the saloon. +And then—</p> + +<p>You know, I dare say—big people must +know all about these things better than +children—how <i>very</i> quickly thoughts, or +feelings, or something not exactly either—since +I wrote that, a big person has told +me that the word that best says what I +mean is <i>impressions</i>: I am not sure that +it says it to me; but that is, perhaps, +because I have never thought of the word +in that way before—You must know +how <i>very</i> quickly one seems to know a +thing sometimes, before there could have +been time, even, to get to know it by any +regular way of hearing or seeing. Well, +that was how it was with us that day. +The very instant the door opened we knew +there was something different in the room—it +seemed warmer, more alive, there was +more feeling in it; and yet it was darker +than we had ever seen it before—at least, +that end of the room where our princess +was had got into the shade somehow. <i>Her</i> +face was not the first thing that caught +our eyes, as it usually was; or <i>was</i> it her +face?</p> +<div><img class="figleft" src="images/img200b.jpg" height="400" alt="THERE SHE STOOD" /></div> +<p>I dare say you will think us too silly +when I tell you that for about half a +second we <i>did</i> think the princess had +really stepped down out of the frame. It +was <i>so</i> like her. There she stood, quite +still, but smiling at us as if she had expected +us. Her hair was dark—like Tib's +and like the picture's—her eyes just the +same as both of theirs; but she was far, +far prettier than +either! She was +dressed in something +white, and +there was some +pink about it, +too; and +though of +course it +wasn't +really +made the +same way +as the +dress in +the picture, +it +was like +enough to give a confused feeling at the first +of being the same. And she was standing +a little in the same way, and a hat—a +black hat with drooping feathers—was slung +on her arm.</p> + +<p>We three just stood and gaped, and +stared as if our eyes would come out of our +heads. And she stood, still smiling, but +perfectly motionless.</p> + +<p>Gerald was the first to come to his senses. +He ran forward a little towards the end of +the room where the portrait was—it was +still there; it was only that one of the +blinds had been drawn down so as to cast it +into shade—and glancing up at the wall, he +called out,</p> + +<p>"It's still there—it isn't <i>it</i>. It's another +princess."</p> + +<p>And at his words a peal of laughter—not +very loud, but such pretty clear +laughter, I wish you could hear it!—rang +through the room, and the new +princess, the living, moving princess, +came forward to us, holding out her +hands.</p> + +<p>"So you have come at last," she said; +"I expected you this morning. I knew +you heard me at the door yesterday, and I +thought your curiosity would bring you +early."</p> + +<p>I didn't quite like her calling us "curious." +It wasn't quite the right word to use for all +our pretty fancies about the princess, and +even about the mystery.</p> + +<p>"We never can come in the morning," +I said, "because of our lessons. And—it +wasn't <i>curiosity</i>."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" she replied, a tiny little bit +mockingly; "not curiosity. What shall I +call it, then, your inquiring minds, eh?"</p> + +<p>I felt my face get red, and I felt that +Tib's was getting red too.</p> + +<p>"I don't know who you are," I burst out, +"and if you don't choose to tell us, I am +not going to ask. <i>That</i> isn't curiosity. But +I wish you hadn't come; you've spoilt it +all. Our own princess," and I glanced up +at the portrait, looking, I could not but +confess, like a washed-out doll beside the +brilliant living beauty of the girl beside us, +"our own princess is much nicer than you. +And if we had been so curious we might +have tried to find out things in pokey +ways. We've never done that."</p> + +<p>I looked, I suppose ready to cry. The +lady's face changed, and then I knew that +while she had been talking in that half +teasing way, something in her voice and +smile had reminded me of grandpapa—of +grandpapa, I mean, when he was in that +sort of laughing-at-us way that we couldn't +bear. Perhaps this had made us all feel +more vexed at her than she really deserved +us to be. But when her face changed, and +a soft, sorry look came over it, she reminded +me of <i>more</i> than any real face I had ever +seen—she reminded me of all the prettiest +and nicest fancies I had ever had; the +sweet look in her eyes was <i>so</i> sweet, that +I wished I might put my arms round her +and kiss her. And Tib told me afterwards +that she had felt exactly the same.</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry," she said, simply; "I +didn't come here to hurt your feelings. +Good fairies never do that, unless to very +naughty children, whose feelings need to +be hurt. And yours don't need to be hurt, +for I know you're not naughty children—very +far from it. Of course you wouldn't +try to find out things in any way that +wasn't nice, I know that. But wouldn't you +like to know my name?"</p> + +<p>"If you like to tell it," we said, smiling +up at her.</p> + +<p>"Or would you rather count me a sort of +a fairy?" she went on.</p> + +<p>"<i>Are</i> you one?" said Gerald, softly +stroking the pretty soft stuff of which her +dress was made.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," she said, smiling again. "I +shouldn't wonder if you could decide that +better than I can. Try to find out—think +of some things I couldn't know unless I were +a fairy."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Gerald; "<i>our</i> names. +You <i>couldn't</i> know them if you weren't a +fairy, or—or if perhaps you knowed some +fairies who had told you them," he added, +getting a little muddled.</p> + +<p>"If I had a fairy godmother, for instance, +who had told me them," she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes—that might be it," said Gerald.</p> + +<p>"Well, then—dear me, I mustn't make +any mistake, or my godmother would be +very angry, after all her teaching," she said, +pretending to look very trying-to-remember, +like Gerald when he stops at "eight times +nine," and screws up his mouth and knits +his brows. "Well, to begin with, the +eldest. This is Tib—but her real name is +Mercedes Regina; this is Gustava; and this +is Gerald Charles. And Gustava is generally +called 'Gussie.' Now, have I said my +lesson rightly?"</p> + +<p>We all stared at her.</p> + +<p>"You must be a fairy," said Gerald. But +Tib and I felt too puzzled to say anything.</p> + +<p>"What shall we call you?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Anything you like. I've got a lot of +names. One of them, curious to say, is the +same as the name scribbled on the portrait +just above the name of the painter. Did +you ever notice it?"</p> + +<p>"Do you mean the same name as Tib's +second one?" I asked; "Regina?"</p> + +<p>The young lady nodded her head.</p> + +<p>"That's very funny," we said. "That's +the name in the book in London too."</p> + +<p>"What book?" she asked, quickly.</p> + +<p>I hesitated a moment. Then I thought +as I had said so much it would be stupid +not to explain. So I told her. She looked +sad and thoughtful as she listened.</p> + +<p>"It was scored out, you said?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, with a thick black stroke, as +if somebody had been very angry when +they did it," I said. "If we hadn't +known the name, from its being Tib's, +I don't think we could ever have made +it out."</p> + +<p>"Ah," said the young lady, and it sounded +like a sigh. But in a moment she smiled +again.</p> + +<p>"I didn't come here to make you sad," +she said. "Won't you tell me about +the games you play, and let me play +with you. Perhaps my fairy godmother +has taught me some that you +don't know and that you would like to +learn."</p> + +<p>But we didn't feel quite ready for playing +games yet. There were two or three things +on our minds. The new princess saw that +we looked uncertain.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she said. "You look as +if you were afraid of me."</p> + +<p>"No," said Tib, and "No," said I. "It +isn't that, but there are some things we +want to ask you."</p> + +<p>"Ask them. I won't call you curious, I +prom<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>But just that moment a bell rang—not +loudly, but she heard it at once, and +started up. She had been sitting on one of +the old couches, with us all about her. "I +must go," she said. "Come to-morrow and +I will tell you all I can. Good-bye; good-bye +till to-morrow," and in half an instant—I +never saw any one move so quick—she +had gone. We heard a key turn in the +lock of the double door outside, and that +was all!</p> + +<p>We looked at each other again without +speaking. Surely she must be a fairy of +some kind, after all!</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_9" id="ch_9"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h3> +<h4>OUR FAIRY.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"A creature not too bright or good</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left"> For human nature's daily food."</td></tr> +<tr><td align="right"><span class="smallcaps">Wordsworth.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 100px;"> +<img src="images/ch9b.jpg" width="100" alt="I" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">t seemed a very long +time to the next +afternoon, and if +Liddy hadn't been +the most unnoticing +old woman in the +world, she would +certainly have seen +that there was something +unusual in our +heads. We could think +of nothing but our new friend the fairy, +or "the other princess," as Gerald would +call her. Who could she be? where had +she come from? how—and this, perhaps, +was the thing we wondered most about—how +in the world did she know all about us, +or our names, even down to our pet names, +any way?</div> + +<p>Then another thought was in my mind +and Tib's. Grandpapa had told us to make +no friends with the neighbours. Would it +be disobeying him to go to meet the young +lady in the saloon and play with her, as she +had asked us?</p> + +<p>"Is she a neighbour?" said Tib. "We +don't know—we don't know if she lives +there, or where she lives, or anything."</p> + +<p>"We must ask her," I said; "any way, +we must go and see her again to ask her. +We must go to see her <i>once</i>, and we will +tell her what grandpapa said."</p> + +<p>"I think she is a fairy, and that she lives +in Fairyland; and grandpapa didn't say +we weren't to speak to fairies," said +Gerald.</p> + +<p>"Oh! how I wish Mr. Truro was here; +we could ask him about it," I said.</p> + +<p>"And there's another thing," said Tib: +"we almost promised Mr. Truro we wouldn't +say anything about the palace and all that +to grandpapa just now—not till they came +again. It's rather a muddle altogether, +don't you think, Gussie?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say she—we must get a name +for her, Tib<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"We'd better just call her Regina," Tib +said. "She said it was her name."</p> + +<p>"Well, I dare say Regina will tell us what +she thinks we should do. Any way, as you +say, we must go to see her once to tell her +about it. I wonder what the bell was that +rang, and made her rush off in such a hurry. +That part of it was really very like a fairy +story."</p> + +<p>"If only she had left a slipper behind her, +it would have been a little like Cinderella," +I said; "though the deserted, quiet rooms, +and that part of it, is more like the Sleeping +Beauty."</p> + +<p>"And the first day, when we were trying +to get in at the door in the wall, was like +one of the stories of dwarfs and gnomes in +the woods, wasn't it?" said Tib. "We've +really had a good many adventures at +Rosebuds."</p> + +<p>This conversation took place the morning +after we had first seen Regina. We were in +the schoolroom, waiting for Mr. Markham. +It was a little past his usual time when +he came in.</p> + +<p>"I'm a little late, I fear," he said. "I +had to go to the Rectory to settle about +giving some holiday lessons to one of the +boys there. It will be Whit-week holidays +soon, you know."</p> + +<p>We didn't care very much; Whit-week +would make no difference to us. Indeed, +Christmas itself we didn't look forward to +in <i>those</i> days, as most children do. It +brought no happy family meetings, no +Christmas-trees, or merry blind-man's buff +and snap-dragon to us. But we knew too +little about these things in other homes to +think about what we missed, and grandpapa +always gave us a pound each to spend as we +chose. And at Ansdell, the Christmases we +happened to be there, the servants had a +party, and we used to watch them from +the gallery that runs round the big hall. +But Whit-week we cared nothing about.</p> + +<p>"We're not to have holidays, then, are +we?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no; Mr. Ansdell has said nothing +about it," Mr. Markham replied. "By the +by, Miss Gussie, you don't know when +he will be coming down again, do +you?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "It won't be next Saturday, +and perhaps not the Saturday after."</p> + +<p>"Ah well! I can write to him. I thought +perhaps he would say something for me to +the rector—you don't know the family at +the Rectory, I think?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Tib.</p> + +<p>"It is curious," said Mr. Markham—he +was rather talkative this morning; perhaps +it had put him into an extra good humour +to have the hope of some more pupils—"it +is curious—I saw a young lady there this +morning that I could really have thought +was an elder sister of Miss Tib's—she was +so very like her."</p> + +<p>We were all ears and attention now.</p> + +<p>"So like Tib?" said Gerald and I.</p> + +<p>"So like me?" said Tib.</p> + +<p>"Yes," repeated Mr. Markham, "exceedingly +like."</p> + +<p>He didn't add, as I have done, "only a +great deal prettier." Perhaps it is because +Tib is my own sister, and I'm always seeing +her and know her face so well, that I don't +think her as pretty as other people do—or +rather, I don't think about it. When you +love people dearly you don't think about +whether they're pretty or not—even +now with Reg<span class="nowrap">——</span>Oh! I am too stupid +again.</p> + +<p>"It is very funny," we said, in which +Mr. Markham agreed. He was thinking, of +course, that the likeness was curious; <i>we</i> +were thinking of far more than that—of +how strange it would be if our mysterious +lady was staying at the Rectory. If so, +how did she get into the saloon?—how +did she know our names?—how did she +know that we went there to play?</p> + +<p>"Yes, I should like you to see it for +yourselves. But you don't know the +family there?"</p> + +<p>"No," repeated Tib, rather sharply, "we +don't. Grandpapa doesn't wish us to make +any friends here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, exactly—I beg your pardon," said +poor Mr. Markham. Probably grandpapa +had said something about it to our tutor +himself, which for the moment he had forgotten, +for he got rather red, poor young +man, and began rather hurriedly to get +the books ready. "We mustn't waste any +more time," he said, and, as we were sorry +to see him looking uncomfortable, we didn't +remind him, as we might have done, that +it was he, and not we, who had begun the +conversation.</p> + +<p>It was a little later than usual when we +got out that afternoon. Nurse had kept us to +try on some new frocks she was making for us, +and we were very cross about it, I remember. +But after all, it didn't matter. When we +found ourselves at last in the saloon, and +looked round +eagerly, there +was no one to +greet us, but +the smiling +face of the +portrait—the same which +we had before thought so +lovely, but which now seemed uninteresting +and disappointing compared to the living, +changing, half-mischievous, half-tender face, +which already I really believe we had learnt +to love.</p> +<div><img class="figleft" src="images/img218b.jpg" height="180" alt="NOSEGAYS AND BOOKS" /></div> +<p>"She'll be coming soon, I dare say," said +Tib. "Let's sit down quietly, and think of +all we want to ask her, in case she makes +off in a hurry like yesterday," and we +were turning towards the end of the +room where stood all the old chairs and +couches, when something on one of the +marble consols caught our eyes. It was +something lightly covered with a sheet of +white tissue-paper, and lifting it up, there +were three little nosegays of lovely flowers—delicate, +brilliant hot-house flowers they +were, and each nosegay lay on a book, and +a card with writing on it was put so that +it could be seen at once on the middle +nosegay. The words on the card were +these:—</p> +<blockquote class="med"> +<p>"For Tib, Gussie, and Gerald. I am so sorry I cannot +come to-day. The books are to amuse you instead, and +I will come again the first day I can.</p> +<p class="right">"R."</p> +</blockquote> + +<p>We were very disappointed. Still, it was +very nice and funny to receive messages +and presents in this mysterious way. The +flowers were really beautiful, and the books +were chosen as if she had known us all our +lives. We knew at once which was for +which, by the way they were lying on the +table. Gerald's was about animals—stories, +I mean—and Tib's was Lamb's <i>Tales from +Shakespeare</i>, and mine was <i>The Wonder +Book</i>.</p> + +<p>We sat down and looked at our books, +and scented our flowers—don't you think +it's very ugly to talk of <i>smelling</i> flowers? +<i>we</i> always say "scenting," though somebody +laughs at us for it, and says it isn't the +proper meaning of the word—and then we +all three made ourselves very comfortable in +different corners of the arm-chairs and +couches, and read our new stories. And +thus we spent the afternoon. It wasn't as +long a one as usual, for we had come so +late. But before we went away we got +into a great puzzle about how to thank her +for the books and flowers.</p> + +<p>"It would be rude to go away and leave +no message," said Tib. "And she doesn't +say she'll come to-morrow, only 'The first +day I can.' Perhaps she'll come in the +morning, and look to see if we've taken +the books."</p> + +<p>But not one of us had a pencil or a scrap +of paper in our pockets, though we turned +them inside out. Gerald had a top and +some nails, and an awful little pink and +white grimy ball that he called his "handkercher"; +and Tib had her garden gloves, +and a rather clean handkerchief, and some +red wool with a crochet needle stuck +in it, as she was learning to crochet; and +I had nothing at all. What was to be +done?</p> + +<p>"I know," I said; "you don't mind using +your wool, do you, Tib? Well, look here, +we'll write with it on the white marble," +and I set to work, and very soon I had +written the words, "Thank you, kind fairy," +to which Gerald made me add, "Come +soon," and our initials, "T" and two "G's." +It really looked quite pretty, and one +comfort was, there was no fear of any one +spoiling it before Regina saw it.</p> + +<p>And then we went home, but we left our +new books in the conservatory, because we +shouldn't have known what to say if nurse +had asked us about them.</p> + +<p>The next day, to our great vexation, +something prevented our going at all—I +forget what it was—oh no! I remember. +It was that nurse took us to the little town +where Mr. Markham came from, to get us +spring hats. She had got grandpapa's leave +to take us when he was at Rosebuds, and +she hadn't told us—poor old Liddy!—because +she thought it would be such a +delightful surprise.</p> + +<p>It would have been a great treat if we +hadn't had our heads so full of Regina, and +wanting to see her again. But we were not +so unkind and selfish as not to look pleased +when nurse told us about it.</p> + +<p>"How are we to go to the station?" I +asked, for nurse had said it was two stations +off by train, and when she said we should +walk to the station—it was quite fine, and +if it hadn't been fine we would have had to +wait for another day—we were very pleased.</p> + +<p>"We can peep in at the Rectory garden +as we pass," I said to Tib, "and perhaps +we'll see the lady that's like you, whoever +she is. I <i>wonder</i> if she is Regina?"</p> + +<p>"So do I," said Tib; "I wonder about +it altogether."</p> + +<p>But though we stared in with all our eyes +at the garden of the pretty house next the +church, on our way to the station, there +was nobody to be seen.</p> + +<p>"That is the Rectory, isn't it, nurse?" +Tib asked her.</p> + +<p>"I suppose so, my dears," she replied, +rather nervously. "But I couldn't say for +certain, having been so little in the village."</p> + +<p>She was always in such a fright, for fear +of getting to know any one or anything in +the village. It was rather stupid of her to +show it so, for it only put all grandpapa's +funny ways about it more into our heads, +but we didn't like to tease her, so we said +no more.</p> + +<p>But on the way home we took another +peep in at the Rectory gates. Nurse was a +little way behind, loaded with parcels which +she <i>wouldn't</i> let us help her to carry; and +we ran on a little. It was easy to peep in +without being seen, but what we saw added +to our puzzle. A lady was walking up and +down the avenue with a book in her hand +which she was reading, and as she turned +our way, we saw her face clearly.</p> + +<p>"Tib," I whispered, "<i>she's</i> like you, and +she's like Regina, too—only she's old. <i>And</i>, +Tib, she's like grandpapa."</p> + +<p>So she was. She had the same straight-up, +rather proud way of holding herself as +he has, dark hair, which was beginning to +get grey, and those pretty blue eyes with +the bright eager look which all the blue +eyes among us have—yes, she was like +them <i>all</i>—the portrait, too. And just as +we were staring, there came a call from the +house, and an old, quite old, lady came to a +glass door which opened on to the terrace. +I knew afterwards that this old lady was +the clergyman's mother or his wife's mother, +who lived with them, and they have all +lived there a very long time.</p> + +<p>"Regina, Queenie, my dear," the old lady +called out, "tea is ready. Frances wants +you to come in."</p> + +<p>The lady turned quickly.</p> + +<p>"I'm coming, Mrs. Leslie," she said, and +then she walked quickly to the house.</p> + +<p>"Regina, another Regina!" we exclaimed. +"And Queenie: what a pretty name for a +pet name! I wonder our Regina didn't tell +us to call her 'Queenie.'"</p> + +<p>For of course, as we had learned a little +Latin, we knew that Regina meant +"queen."</p> + +<p>"We must ask her why she didn't," said +Gerald.</p> + +<p>You can fancy how we looked forward to +the next afternoon, and how we hoped our +pretty lady would be there.</p> + +<p>It all went right for once. Nurse was +more busy than usual about all the things +she had bought for us at Welford, and very +glad to get rid of us as soon as we had had +our dinner. For, happily, she had no trying-on +to do to-day.</p> + +<p>"You may have a good long afternoon in +the garden," she said. "I must say you're +wonderful good children for amusing yourselves. +There's never any tease-teasing, +like with some I've known—'What +shall we do, nurse?' or, 'We've nothing +to play at.' And you're getting very +good, too, about never getting into +mischief. You're <i>much</i> better, Miss +Gussie, than you were last year at +Ansdell: for it was you as was the +ringleader."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said I, not very much ashamed of +the distinction. "Do you remember the +day I took grandpapa's new railway rug to +make a carpet to our tent, and left it out +all night, and it rained and all the colour +ran? And do you remember when I pushed +Gerald into the pond to catch the little +fishes, and how he stood shivering and +crying?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes, indeed," said nurse. "But +speaking of ponds—the one at Ansdell was +nothing; but those nasty pits or pools in +the fields near by: you never go near them? +Your grandpapa has a real fear of them, +and he told me not to let you forget what +he'd said."</p> + +<p>"No fear," we all answered, "we never +go near them. We promised him we +wouldn't, nurse."</p> + +<p>Then off we ran.</p> + +<p>"Even if she isn't there, she's sure to +have left some message for us, like the last +time," said Gerald as we ran. "I wish +she'd bring us some butter-scotch."</p> + +<p>"<i>Gerald!</i>" exclaimed Tib and I, "what +sort of ideas have you? Fairies and butter-scotch +mixed in the same breath. I only +hope," Tib went on, "that she won't think +we're ungrateful for the books, or that we +don't care for them, because we had to +leave them in the conservatory."</p> + +<p>"If only she's there, we can explain +everything," said I.</p> + +<p>And she <i>was</i> there.</p> + +<p>Not waiting in the saloon this time, but +running down the long passage to meet us +as soon as she heard our steps, looking +prettier, and merrier, and sweeter than ever. +<i>Dear</i> Regina!</p> + +<p>I have never minded her teasing since +that first day, when I really didn't understand +her. I shall never mind it again, I +am sure.</p> + +<p>She led us into the big drawing-room, +where she had prepared another little surprise +for us. She was as pleased about it as +we were ourselves. It was more of Gerald's +kind of treat this time—not butter-scotch, +but fruit—grapes, and beautiful little +Tangiers oranges, and little cakes and +biscuits of ever so many kinds. They were +so nice, and we ate such a lot of them, and +Regina ate a good many herself.</p> + +<p>"You see, though I am a fairy, I like +nice things," she said.</p> + +<p>"Do you have afternoon luncheon every +day?" asked Gerald. "Oh, how I would +like to be you."</p> + +<p>"<i>Isn't</i> he a greedy boy?" I said; and +then I told her about the butter-scotch, and +somehow the butter-scotch led to our talking +of grandpapa—you remember about +Gerald wishing he'd bring us some—and +then we all got rather grave, for we had a +great deal to tell our new princess, and to +ask her.</p> + +<p>We sat together in a little group on one +of the arm-chairs, and Regina listened to us +very attentively. We told her all that +grandpapa had said to us before we came +to Rosebuds, and all about the book in the +library in London, and how we wanted to love +grandpapa better, as Mrs. Munt had told us +we should, but that it was rather difficult. +We told her all we had told Mr. Truro, only +more, for we had to tell her all about him +as well. And then we asked her if she +thought it was disobeying grandpapa for us +to come to see her; and when we had told +her all we could think of, we waited very +anxiously to hear what she would say. +Her face looked grave, though not exactly +sad.</p> + +<p>"Your friend—Mr. Truro—told you to +wait till he came back again?" she +said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but that was only about coming in +here to play. We hadn't seen you then—and +grandpapa told us not to make friends +with any of the neighbours. Are you a +neighbour? Do you live here?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Regina. "I live far from +here."</p> + +<p>"And how can you come so often to see +us, then?" we asked.</p> + +<p>She smiled.</p> + +<p>"Can't you fancy I come on a sunbeam, +or a cloud, or on a broomstick if you like? +Or if I had only thought of taking the +picture away, you might really have +thought I had come out of the frame! No +children, I'm not going to tell you where I +come from, or how I come, or <i>anything</i>. +Then you can feel you're not hearing from +me anything your grandfather would not +wish you to hear, and when he and Mr. +Truro come here again, you can tell them +all—everything, and see what they say. +You can bring Mr. Truro here to see me, if +you like, and we'll talk it over. Now, as +who knows how seldom we may see each +other again, suppose we make the best use +of our time. I've got some games to teach +you—new games. Let us be as happy and +merry as we can be while we <i>are</i> together."</p> + +<p>And you cannot fancy what fun we had.</p> + +<p>She kept us playing, and guessing tricks +and riddles, and even singing little glees—she +had such a pretty voice—so busily that +we hadn't time to ask her any more +questions, and indeed forgot to do so. So +that when it grew late and we had to go +home, and Regina kissed us and said +good-bye, we knew as little about her, or +where she had come from or was going to, +as if she had really flown down to us from +some fairy country invisible to mortal eyes.</p> + +<p>"And will you come again soon?" we +asked.</p> + +<p>"Whenever I can, but that is all I can +promise," she said, and then she disappeared +behind the heavy doors, and we heard the +key turn in the lock on the other side.</p> + +<p>And we went home, wishing it were +to-morrow.</p> + +<p>"No, not to-morrow—she's sure not to +come so soon again, but, all the same, we +must come and see."</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_10" id="ch_10"></a>CHAPTER X.</h3> +<h4>THREE STARLINGS.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<p class="small"><span class="ind2"> </span>"'I can't get out; I can't get out,' said the starling.<br /> +'God help thee,' said I; 'but I'll let thee out.'"</p> +<p class="right"><span class="small"><i>Sentimental Journey.</i></span><span class="ind6"> </span></p> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 110px;"> +<img src="images/ch10b.jpg" width="110" alt="S" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">he didn't come the +next day, but instead +of her we +actually found three +little packets of +butter-scotch tied up in +white paper, with a different +coloured ribbon on +each: mine was pink, and +Tib's blue, and Gerald's +green. I think nothing +that had happened to us pleased Gerald +as much as this, though he couldn't +pretend to think it had come from Fairyland.</div> + +<p>And two days after that, the girl herself +came again, and we had another merry +afternoon of games and fun. How we +laughed! there never was any one as clever +as our new princess at games. And when +we were all too tired and hot to play any +more, she told us to sit down quietly to +rest, and to shut our eyes, and pretend to +go to sleep for five minutes. And when we +did so we heard a little faint rustling, and if +we had not promised I am sure we should +have opened our eyes, we were so afraid she +was tricking us, and running away without +saying good-bye.</p> + +<p>But in a minute we heard the rustling +again.</p> + +<p>"Open your eyes," said her voice, and +when we opened them, lo and behold! there +was a glass jug filled with lemonade—it +was so good—and four little tumblers, and +sponge cakes. The tumblers were red and +of a queer shape, and so was the big jug.</p> + +<p>"These might have come from Fairyland," +I said. "You know, Regina"—for +she would make us call her so—"Gerald +won't give up about you being a fairy; +only when it came to packets of butter-scotch<span class="nowrap">——</span>"</p> + +<p>"Even he couldn't believe there were +butter-scotch manufactories in Fairyland," +said she, laughing. And then we all +laughed just because we were so happy.</p> + +<p>"We've never laughed so much in our +lives before, I don't think," said Tib.</p> + +<p>"Poor little pets," said Regina, "it won't +do you any harm. It should do the old +house good too—it's many a long day since +it heard any merry voices."</p> + +<p>"The old house," said I; "what do you +mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the old house we're in—the place +where you are. Where do you suppose +yourself to be at this moment?" she asked, +seeing I looked more and more puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," I said. "We thought it +was perhaps just this room, or else that it +was a sort of a palace. We never thought +of it as a regular house."</p> + +<p>"A pavilion of some kind, I suppose you +mean," said she.</p> + +<p>"Why do you call it the <i>old house</i>? Is +it very old?" asked Tib.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Regina, "it is. It has got +into being called the old house because it is +the oldest anywhere about, I suppose. And +then, you see, when people haven't lived in +a place for very, very long, they get into +that way of speaking of it—out of a sort of +affection—just as one speaks of the old +days, you know, when one speaks of long +ago."</p> + +<p>"Did you live here long ago, and then +not for a great while?"</p> + +<p>"No, I never lived here, and then I'm +not so old as all that. I heard about the +old days of course from<span class="nowrap">——</span>" but then she +got red, and stopped suddenly. "I think +it's time to go," she said.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," said I; "will you show +us some of the rooms of the house? We +should so like to see them."</p> + +<p>The new princess hesitated. Then she +shook her head. "No, dears," she said, "I'd +better not. Just try to keep to your old +fancies, and take Gerald's way: it's the best +just now. And now listen: this is Wednesday. +I can't come to-morrow. You'll +promise to come on Friday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," we all said.</p> + +<p>"I particularly want you to come on +Friday," she went on, and her face grew a +little sad, "though I can't quite explain +why—except—just that after that perhaps +I can't see you for a good while."</p> + +<p>"Oh! don't say that," we all cried +together; "do try and not let it be that +way. We will come on Friday, you may +be sure."</p> + +<p>"But don't expect me very early," she +said. "I may not be able to come till +pretty late."</p> + +<p>And then she kissed us all again, and she +went her way, and we ours.</p> + +<p>It happened very well that she had asked +us to come on Friday, and not on Thursday, +for on Thursday it was so <i>extra</i> pouring +wet that nurse wouldn't let us go out at all. +And we were exceedingly anxious on Friday +morning to see what the weather was going +to be, and we were all delighted to see it +was fine.</p> + +<p>"We must have a long afternoon to ourselves, +nurse," we said. "It's horrid to be +cooped up in the house all day."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm sure, my dears, I'm as sorry +as you can be when it has to be so," said +nurse. "But it's very wet everywhere +still to-day. It did pour so yesterday. +You must be sure to take your goloshes, +and to come in at once if you feel chilly +or shivery. I wouldn't for anything have +you take cold."</p> + +<p>"We never do, nurse," Tib said. "You +must allow that we don't give you much +trouble about our being ill."</p> + +<p>"As if I'd grudge any trouble, my dear," +said Liddy—she was very matter of fact. +"But it's true you've given no trouble of +any kind since you've been here, and so I +shall tell your dear grandpapa—and so, I'm +sure, will Mrs. Munt. She thinks there +never were such children. But do be +careful now, dears, not to catch cold just +as your dear grandpapa's coming?"</p> + +<p>"Grandpapa coming! You never told +us," we exclaimed. "When is he coming?"</p> + +<p>"To-morrow; and Mr. Truro too. At +least, Mrs. Munt's sure it's him, though +Mr. Ansdell only says to prepare the same +rooms as last time. I meant to tell you +when we began speaking—Mrs. Munt just +got the letter this morning."</p> + +<p>"What a good thing he's not coming to-day," +we said to ourselves. "Nurse would +never have let us out at all, or else we would +have had to come in early, and <i>she</i> said she +couldn't come early. I wonder, Tib," I went +on, "I wonder if somehow her wanting us so +much to-day, and what she has said, has +anything to do with grandpapa's coming?"</p> + +<p>"How could <i>she</i> know he was coming +before we knew it ourselves, even? Gussie, +it's not <i>me</i> that's too fanciful nowadays," said +Tib. "Of course, on <i>our</i> side, knowing he +was coming might have made us say perhaps +it would be the last time. You know we've +promised her and ourselves to tell Mr. +Truro all about her, and then he or we must +tell grandpapa, and who knows what he'll +say? It's to be hoped he's not so busy +and worried as he was when he was here +before."</p> + +<p>But the thought that it <i>might</i> be the last +time we should see our pretty princess—that +grandpapa might even forbid our ever +going to our palace, as we still called it, at +all, made us rather sad and subdued, and +it was not as merrily as usual that we ran +through the tangle to the door in the wall.</p> + +<p>"Be quick, Gerald," I said, when he had +got the key in the lock, and was turning +it—he always counted it his business; +"what are you pulling at?"</p> + +<p>"It's stiff to-day—it may have got rusty +with it raining so yesterday," he said. +For we still always left the key in the +summer-house—we were afraid to take it +into the house. "It needs oiling again, +perhaps;" but he had managed to open the +door by this time, and he took the key out +of the lock as he spoke, and we all passed +through, Gerald locking the door again +<i>inside</i>, and leaving the key in the lock, as +we always did.</p> + +<p>Regina was not yet there, but we were +not surprised: she had said she might be +late of coming, and we had not waited, just +<i>for fear</i> of nurse stopping us at the last +minute. We amused ourselves with some +of the puzzles she had brought and left for +us to play with when we were not inclined +for noisier games, and in about an hour, to +our delight, we heard the key turn in the +big door, and in came our princess, a basket +on her arm, which she set down on the +floor, while she locked the door inside, and +put the key in her pocket.</p> + +<p>"You needn't do that," said Tib and I, +rather offended; "we're not going to try to +go out of the room, since you told us you +didn't want us to."</p> + +<p>"I did it without thinking," said Regina. +"I know I can trust you. Now kiss me, +darlings, and let us be as happy as we can."</p> + +<p>"But we're not very happy," we answered; +and then we told her that grandpapa +and Mr. Truro were coming the next day, +and that perhaps we wouldn't be allowed +to come to see her any more. She looked +sorry, but not very surprised.</p> + +<p>"We must hope the best," she said. +"Mr. Truro is so kind, you say. Won't <i>he</i>, +perhaps, be able to get your grandpapa to +let you come?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," we said. But it was only +"perhaps."</p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/img147.jpg"> + <img src="images/img147.jpg" height="400" + alt="SHE TOLD US STORIES" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"><span class="small"><i>Then as we weren't +much in the humour for games,<br /> +she sat and +told us stories.</i></span><br /> + <span class="caption">Click to <a href="images/img147.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p>But Regina wouldn't let us be sad. She +opened her basket, which was filled with +things she thought would please us, and we +had our afternoon luncheon, as Gerald +called it, together. Then as we weren't +much in the humour for games, she sat and +told us stories—such pretty ones, I wish I +could write some of them down, for +I believe she made them up out of her +head—till, feeling afraid it was getting +late, she looked at her watch, and +jumped up in a fright, like Cinderella +again.</p> + +<p>"Darlings, darlings!" she cried, "I must +go," and she kissed us very lovingly, but +very hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"And when are we to see you again?"</p> + +<p>Regina shook her head.</p> + +<p>"That is more for you to know than for +me," she said. "We must leave it this way—if +you <i>can</i> come again, you'll find some +message from me, and you can leave one for +me, and then I'll come."</p> + +<p>"But listen," I said; "the other day +you said you weren't sure that <i>you</i> could +come, and to-day you didn't seem surprised +that perhaps <i>we</i> can't come. Regina, tell +me, did you know grandpapa was coming +before we did? <i>Are</i> you a fairy?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head, laughing, but she +would say nothing, and in another moment +she was gone.</p> + +<p>We sat still, talking, for some time after +she had gone—we couldn't help feeling dull +and sad. We were so afraid of what grandpapa +might say.</p> + +<p>"It's a very good thing Mr. Truro's +coming," said Tib. "It would have been +too dreadful to have had to tell grandpapa +ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I don't see that," I said. "You speak +as if we had done something very naughty, +that we should be ashamed of telling. I'm +not a bit afraid of telling grandpapa, in +that way; <i>I'm</i> only afraid for fear he should +forbid us ever to come to the old house +again;" we had left off calling it the palace, +since Regina had explained it was really a +house, and the "<i>old</i> house" sounded nice, +somehow.</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," said Tib, "that's what I'm +the most afraid of too, of course."</p> + +<p>"And there's something we can't understand +altogether," I went on. "Why did +grandpapa stop us knowing anybody here? +I'm sure the people at the Rectory would +be kind to us, and I daresay there are +other nice people. Then, who is Regina? +and how does she know about us? and +whose house is this? and why is it +shut up? and<span class="nowrap">——</span>" I stopped, out of +breath.</p> + +<p>"And who is the portrait? and why is +it like her, and like me? And the lady at +the Rectory—the oldish lady, and the young +one Mr. Markham spoke of—who are they? +Oh yes, there are just thousands of things +we don't understand. I don't think I shall +ever wish for mysteries again," said Tib, +dolefully. "Just because Regina is so fond +of us, and we are so fond of her—just +because of that you may be sure we shall +never see her again."</p> + +<p>At these words Gerald began to cry. I +was half vexed with him, and half sorry +for him.</p> + +<p>"Don't cry, Gerald," I said; "though, +all the same, Tib, I don't see why you need +always make the worst of things. It may +be all right, Gerald dear—perhaps grandpapa +may not mind. And just think how +nice it would be to be able to have her to +come to see us at Rosebuds!"</p> + +<p>Gerald began drying his eyes, for which +purpose another little grimy ball—this +time blue and white—was brought into +requisition.</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I love her the best of us all," +he said, as a sort of apology.</p> + +<p>"You can't love her more than we do," +said Tib and I, rather grumpily.</p> + +<p>Then we began to think perhaps we had +better be going home. We had some lessons +still to do for Mr. Markham, and it must +be near tea-time, though we weren't very +hungry, on account of the afternoon luncheon +we had had.</p> + +<p>We left the saloon with a lingering look at +all, especially at the old princess, as we now +called her—our first friend, whom we felt +we had rather neglected of late. There she +was, smiling as usual, with the sweet, but +slightly contemptuous smile she had always +worn—as if she knew herself to be above +all foolish weaknesses and changeablenesses, +and could afford to smile at them +amiably.</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, princess," I said. "I don't +know if we shall ever see you again, but if +not, we thank you for your politeness to us, +though we can't pretend to say we love you +as much as our new princess."</p> + +<p>"It isn't her fault, poor thing," added +Tib, "she can't help being only a picture +instead of a living person. And, Gussie, +she must have been a living person once; +I mean there must have been a person just +like her, and that person must have been +very like Regina. Isn't it sad to think that +there's nothing left of her except this cold +picture, always smiling the same, whatever +happens?"</p> + +<p>"It's no more sad about her than about +any other picture," I said, rather crossly. +Sometimes I do get cross with Tib when she +is sentimental. I'm sure I don't know +why—it <i>is</i> ill-natured. "I wonder," I went on, +more eagerly, "I wonder if possibly she +could be the portrait of the oldish lady—when +the oldish lady was young, you know, +Tib, for she is so like Regina."</p> + +<p>It was Tib's turn to snub <i>me</i> now.</p> + +<p>"The portrait of <i>that</i> lady," she said. +"My goodness, Gussie! for it to be her portrait +she would need to be about a hundred +and twenty years old. Can't you tell +that by the dress, and the <i>look</i> of the +picture?"</p> + +<p>"Well, never mind," I said. "We can't +find out anything about her, so it's no use +squabbling. We must go, Tib; I'm sure +it's late; and we don't want to do anything +that could vex nurse just as grandpapa's +coming, for you know he always asks her if +we've been good."</p> + +<p>"Come along, then," said Tib.</p> + +<p>We walked slowly down the long passage +and into the conservatory, where everything +looked just exactly the same as the first day +we had seen it.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear, I am so unhappy!" said +Gerald, again. "I've got a <i>feeling</i> that all +the nice has finished."</p> + +<p>"Open the door quick, Gerald, or let me +do it, and don't make things worse by talking +nonsense."</p> + +<p>Gerald turned to the door—the key was +sticking in the lock, as I said—Gerald +always left it <i>after</i> locking it.</p> + +<p>"Do be quick," said Tib, impatiently.</p> + +<p>Whether it was her hurrying him that +made him awkward or jerky, or whether it +was just that something had gone wrong +with the lock or the key—you remember +we had noticed it was stiffer than usual +when we came in—I can't say. But, however +that may have been, this is what +happened. The key wouldn't turn in the +lock! Gerald fumbled at it for some time, +then Tib and I got impatient.</p> + +<p>"What <i>is</i> the matter?" said Tib.</p> + +<p>"What <i>are</i> you doing?" said I; and we +both ran forward, pushing poor Gerald aside, +and each trying to get hold of the key. We +each took a turn at it, like the first day, +only now our flurry and fear made us less +cool and careful. It was no use; we +pressed, and pulled, and tugged, we took +the key out, and rubbed it and cleaned +it as if we had been Bluebeard's wife, and +put it back again to try afresh. No use!</p> + +<p>"I really think keys have got spirits in +them sometimes," said Tib. "They <i>are</i> so +contrary."</p> + +<p>And then, hot and worried, beginning to +be frightened too, we looked at our sore +fingers, which the horrid key had bruised +and scratched, and asked ourselves what +to do.</p> + +<p>Tib started forward again—she had spied +a strong bit of stick in a corner.</p> + +<p>"I believe it's only stiffness, after all," +she said. "There <i>can't</i> be anything the +matter with the key."</p> + +<p>She seized the stick—it <i>was</i> a very stout +one—ran it through the ring of the key, +and before Gerald and I really knew what +she was doing, she had grasped the two +ends with her two hands, and was turning +vigorously.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I told you so," she cried, as she +felt that the stick <i>did</i> turn, "it only +wanted some strength. But oh, Gussie! oh, +Gerald!" she screamed the next moment, +"see, see!"</p> + +<p>She drew back a little—we did see—the +key had <i>broken</i>, not turned! the ring was +still hanging on the stick; the useless end +of the key stuck out of the lock as if in +mockery.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tib!" I cried, for somehow one's +first feeling always is to blame some one, +"why were you so hasty? Oh dear! what +<i>shall</i> we do?"</p> + +<p>Tib was too subdued to resent my blame.</p> + +<p>"It wouldn't turn before," she said +meekly. "Perhaps we are no worse off +than before."</p> + +<p>"Yes, we are," I said angrily. "Then, at +least, we could take the key out and shout +through the key-hole. Now we can't even +do that," for I had tried, and found that +there was now no moving the key the least +little bit. There really was <i>nothing</i> to be +done. But we did not realise that all at +once. We set to work shouting and kicking +on the door, in hopes that somebody might +be passing by the tangle, though nothing +was more unlikely. We climbed up on the +shelves of the conservatory, in hopes somebody +might be in that garden—the garden +of the old house, as we now knew it to be. +But very little was to be seen—only some +grass stretching towards a belt of trees, and +no sign of anybody—it wasn't till afterwards +that we knew there <i>was</i> another door into +the conservatory, concealed in a corner—a +door for gardeners to come in by, but it +hadn't been used for many years, and the +key was lost, so the knowledge wouldn't +have done us much good—and we gave up +that hope in despair.</p> + +<p>Then another idea struck us—we ran +back to the saloon to try the door by which +Regina came in. If <i>possibly</i> she hadn't +locked it, we might get into the house, and +out through it, and so home. But no—the +great double doors were as firm as a rock. +Regina had locked them only too securely!</p> + +<p>"She might have left it unlocked," we +said, in a sort of unreasonable rage; "she +might have thought perhaps we might +need to get out this way." And then we +remembered that she had been used to see +us coming in and out quite easily. She +had had no reason for any misgiving.</p> + +<p>"But there may be some one in the +house," said Tib. So again we set to work +calling, and knocking, and banging at the +doors. In vain—in vain! We were completely +locked in, and evidently there was +no one near enough to hear us.</p> + +<p>Tired out at last, we sat down, huddled +together, on one of the arm-chairs, where +we had sat so happily with Regina.</p> + +<p>"We must stay all night," I said.</p> + +<p>"Till the dusting person comes in the +morning," said Tib.</p> + +<p>"Any way, it's a good thing we had some +afternoon luncheon," said Gerald, though +even this consoling reflection did not +prevent the tears rolling down his poor +fat cheeks.</p> + +<p>We didn't as yet feel hungry—nor did +we feel exactly frightened, though it did +begin to feel "eerie." But very soon we +felt very cold. It is strange how cold an +unused room gets to feel as soon as the +bright daylight goes. We had our jackets +on, fortunately, and we took some of the +linen covers off the chairs, and wrapped +them round us, so that we looked like +ghosts or dancing dervishes. And thus +enveloped, we huddled together as close as +we could.</p> + +<p>And the last thing we saw as the light +faded, so that everything in the room grew +dim and shadowy, was the calmly smiling +face of the "old princess" up above us on +the wall.</p> + +<p>I never see it now without remembering +that strange evening.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_11" id="ch_11"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h3> +<h4>BROTHER AND SISTER.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"For this relief, much thanks."—<i>Hamlet.</i></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 130px;"> +<img src="images/ch11b.jpg" width="130" alt="M" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">y story is getting +rather +difficult to +manage now. +Indeed, I don't +quite see how to +do. I <i>think</i>, if I +had known how +long it would be, +and what a lot of +half-holidays I should have to stay in to +write it, I <i>think</i> I would never have begun +it. But I won't be laughed at for "beginning, +and not ending." And if I get +it rather muddley, and can't do it the way +authors do who know how to plan stories, +and write them so that they seem all to +come of themselves, like flowers growing, +you good people, whoever you are, that come +to read it must forgive me and believe +I did my best.</div> + +<p>But I can't go on regularly the "I" way +now. That is what puzzles me. I have to +be, as it were, in three places at once. First +of all—we three are all locked up in the old +house now—I must tell you what was +happening at Rosebuds.</p> + +<p>Nurse didn't miss us for a good while; +she was busy helping Mrs. Munt, as there +was always a good deal of fuss when grandpapa +was expected. And just as they were +getting things pretty ready, and nurse +<i>would</i> have begun seeing about our tea, up +comes a man from the telegraph office at +Welford with the usual brown envelope and +pink paper inside, addressed to Mrs. Munt, +to say that grandpapa was coming <i>that</i> +evening, would be there about eight o'clock. +Immediately, of course, all the bustle and +fuss began over again, only twice as bad; +for Mrs. Munt had to get a dinner ready all +in a hurry, and to send one running this +way and another that way for all the things +needed. Nurse went with her to the +kitchen, calling to Fanny to take up our +tea, and see that we got it properly; you +can understand that, just thinking of us as +at play in the garden, it never occurred to +nurse to ask if we were in, or to feel the +least anxious. Fanny, on her side, wasn't +at all given to being anxious about anything +except her own bonnets and caps, so she +merely set the tea, and then, "supposing" +we were up stairs, and would come down +when we heard the bell, off she went to her +own room and her bonnets.</p> + +<p>But the tea got cold in the teapot, the +bread-and-butter was untouched, the honey +was at the disposal of all the flies who chose +to sip it—we three never came! And when +nurse, after helping Mrs. Munt till the two +old bodies were satisfied that all would be +right, trotted up to the schoolroom to put +<i>us</i> in order next, there was no one to be +seen! Just at first, I fancy, she was more +vexed than frightened.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear!" says I (this is nurse, you +understand, telling it over to me afterwards), +"where can they be, the naughty children? +But I wasn't not to say afraid of anything +wrong. I called Fanny, idle girl that she +is, and sent her out into the garden to look +for you, never doubting but that in two +minutes she'd be back with you all."</p> + +<p>But when Fanny, after considerably more +than two minutes, reappeared with the +news that we were nowhere to be seen, then +poor nurse was dreadfully upset. She ran +to Mrs. Munt, and the two trotted everywhere +about the grounds, giving the alarm +to the gardener and his boy, who joined +them in the search.</p> + +<p>It was getting near the time for grandpapa's +arrival. The dog-cart had started +for the station before our absence had been +discovered, and to add to her own great +anxiety, nurse had the fear of grandpapa's +driving in every moment and demanding +what was the matter. It must really have +been a terrible evening for both nurse and +Mrs. Munt; and as time passed and grandpapa +did not come, their fear of his displeasure +gave way to the wish that he were +there to advise and direct them what +to do.</p> + +<p>They had exhausted all their energies +when at last—about nine o'clock—the dog-cart +appeared with him. He had missed +the train which stopped at our little station, +and had come on by the next—an express, +by which he was obliged to get out at +Welford. So he had telegraphed to the +groom to drive on, and meet him there +instead.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Munt met him at the door; a +moment before, she had been at the gate, +but when she heard the dog-cart approaching, +she hurried back to the house. Not +even her fears of every kind could set +aside her ideas of what was proper and +respectful.</p> + +<p>"God grant Mr. Truro may be with +master!" she said to herself, and her heart +sank still lower when she saw that grandpapa +was alone.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, Mrs. Munt," he said, +as he got down; "you will have been +wondering what has become of me," and then +he quickly explained what had happened. +But receiving no distinct reply, he looked +at her, and saw that she was crying.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" he said. "Are +the children ill?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed, "oh, my dear +master, I only wish I knew!" and then she +told him of our strange disappearance.</p> + +<p>He listened, but for some time he could +not believe it was quite as she said.</p> + +<p>"They are hiding somewhere to trick +you, you may be sure," he said.</p> + +<p>"But they'd never keep it up so long, sir," +she replied. "Nine o'clock at night—their +bedtime, and had nothing to eat since their +dinner at one. Oh no, sir—I wish I could +think it—but it's not in the nature of children +to keep it up so long. And not of +those dear children: they'd have come out +wherever they were, on hearing poor nurse +and me a-praying and a-begging of them to +come out."</p> + +<p>Grandpapa did not speak, but Mrs. Munt +saw that he began to take it seriously. He +would not go into the house till every +corner of the grounds had again been +searched under his own eye. And not the +grounds only, but the house; and when at +last there was nowhere else to look, and +grandpapa had shouted to us in every tone—scolding, +appealing, entreating—fancy +him entreating—us to give some sign of +life, promising not to be angry, never +again to be vexed with us whatever we did, +if we would but answer: when <i>everywhere</i> +had been searched, and everything said and +done that could be thought of, poor grandpapa, +looking quite old and shaky all of a +sudden, sat down by the table in the +dining-room, where his dinner was so neatly +set out, and buried his face in his hands.</p> + +<p>It was terrible, both nurse and the old +housekeeper told us—terrible to see the +cold, strong man so overcome, and to hear +what he murmured to himself.</p> + +<p>"All that I had left—all," he said. "My +own children, for she was as my daughter +to me, and my poor boy—one gone, one to +have deceived me. And now, in my old +age, these little creatures whom I was +learning to love! Is it my fault? Was I +too harsh to them? Did I neglect them? +Why is it that all belonging to me seem +doomed in some way?"</p> + +<p>And then he raised his poor white face, +and told what he was thinking.</p> + +<p>"Munt," he said, abruptly, "I have refused +to allow the idea in my mind—but it +must be the truth. I have tried not to +entertain it, for I knew if it were the case, +there was nothing to be done. It is so +dreadfully deep<span class="nowrap">——</span>" and he gave a little +shudder. "They must have fallen into the +pits at the corner of the Old House fields. +I had a presentiment of it from their first +coming here. Tell the man to fetch the +ropes—there must be the right thing in the +village, for cows have fallen in before now; +those pools must be dragged."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Munt gave a little scream. Then +she grew quiet again.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," she said, "the dear children +are too obedient for that. They remembered +what you said to them about not +going to those pits, and they repeated +their promise to nurse only a day or two +ago."</p> + +<p>Grandpapa looked up with a gleam of +hope. But it faded again, and he only +repeated the words—</p> + +<p>"Those pools must be dragged. Send +the men. I can do no more."</p> + +<p>Then he half fell back upon his chair, and +stayed thus—almost unconscious, Mrs. +Munt thinks—while she went away to obey +his orders, till<span class="nowrap">——</span></p> + +<p>But now I must take up another end of +the story.</p> + +<p>The family at the Rectory went early to +bed as a rule, even when they had visitors +with them. This eventful evening they +and their two visitors were just standing +about the drawing-room, preparing to say +good-night and to light their bed-room +candles, when they were startled by a loud +violent ringing at the door.</p> + +<p>"Dear me," said they all, "what can that +be? So late, too; it is past ten."</p> + +<p>"Some one ill, and wanting me, possibly," +said the rector, and he went out to the hall, +where the footman was already at the door, +leaving the four ladies—his mother-in-law, +and Mrs. Lauriston, his wife, and the two +visitors—looking at each other rather +startledly. Still, there was no reason to +expect anything wrong—all the young +Lauristons were upstairs safe in bed their +mother remembered with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>They heard voices at the door—then +the rector came back, looking shocked and +troubled.</p> + +<p>"I must go out," he said; "a sad, a +terribly sad thing is supposed to have +happened."</p> + +<p>"Where? Any of our people?" exclaimed +his wife.</p> + +<p>Mr. Lauriston hesitated—he glanced at +the two stranger ladies—at the elder one +especially—the lady Tib and I had seen +from the Rectory gate.</p> + +<p>"You must hear it sooner or later," he +said; "I'm very sorry to have to tell it. It +is at—at Rosebuds—the children there, +poor Gerald's children—are missing, and it +is feared they have fallen into the pits—near—near +your house, Mrs. Mowbray. +They have sent to me for the things to drag +with." (There was a pond almost big +enough to be called a little lake in the +Rectory grounds: that was how they had +ropes there.)</p> + +<p>Mrs. Mowbray gave a scream.</p> + +<p>"The children—<i>drowned</i>!" she cried in +an agony. "Oh, Edith! oh, William! if it +is so, it is my fault. I should not have left +these pits to be filled up by Farmer Jackman +when he buys the place. The moment +I knew the children were at Rosebuds, +<i>I</i> should have done it. Oh God! it is +too awful, and too cruel—just when +I was beginning, faintly beginning, to +hope."</p> + +<p>She seemed as if she were going to faint. +But her daughter, <i>our</i> Regina, our dear +fairy, darted from the room, calling out as +she did so—</p> + +<p>"Wait a moment, dear mamma. Don't +be so miserable. It may be a mistake."</p> + +<p>She rushed to the hall, where stood the +Rectory servants in a group, and Barstow, +grandpapa's very spruce, stuck-up London +groom, who had come to ask for the ropes, +with a very solemn face, but very proud, all +the same, to be the centre of information. +Regina seized hold of him by the coat collar, +I believe; he told nurse afterwards that the +young lady shook him, shook him hard, "as +if it was all <i>my</i> fault," he said to nurse.</p> + +<p>"Leave off chattering and gossiping," she +said, for our princess can be very determined +when she likes, "and attend to me. +Are the children <i>known</i> to be in the pool? +Were they seen near there? or heard? or +how is it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, bless you, Miss," said Barstow, +shaking himself free rather resentfully. +"It's only that they're not to be found +nowhere else. They've been out a-playing +in the garden, as everybody thought, since +two or three o'clock, and they've never come +home, and they're nowhere to be found; +and my master—Gerald Ansdell, Esq., M.P., +if you please, Miss,"—for Regina and all the +Rectory folk were perfect strangers to him +"my master has got it in his head that +the young ladies and Master Gerald is—has—must +be drowned, Miss, to speak +plain."</p> + +<p>Regina dashed back to the drawing-room.</p> + +<p>"Mamma darling, it's all right. Mr. +Lauriston, Mrs. Lauriston, all of you, help +me to explain. <i>I</i> know where the children +are—they're locked in, in the Old House—that's +all that's wrong—I'm sure of it. It +was a little plan of Charles Truro's and +mine; we thought if I got to know the +dear little things it might lead to something—to +a reconciliation. They had found their +way there by themselves, and told him about +it. But I must go at once to let them out, +the poor darlings. And, mamma, mamma, +take courage—seize the moment. While I +fetch them, you go to Uncle Ansdell and +tell him the good news. You may never +have such a chance again. Don't you think +so, Mr. Lauriston—you who know the whole +story—oh, do say you think she should do +it?" and Regina wrung her hands in her +eagerness.</p> + +<p>It took a little cross-questioning to make +them understand all; but Regina got her +way. Barstow, to keep him quiet, was +allowed to go off with the gardener to get +the drags, and in less time than you would +have thought it possible they all set off—Mr. +Lauriston, Regina, and her mother. +But at the gate of Rosebuds they separated. +Regina hurried on down the lane with the +rector, her mother with trembling, shaking +steps, went in and made her way up to the +porch.</p> + +<p>The front door stood open; in the confusion +and excitement nobody had thought +of closing it.</p> + +<p>Grandpapa—poor grandpapa—was sitting +as Mrs. Munt had left him when she went +off to give orders about dragging the pools. +A little noise, the door softly opening and +closing again, made him look up. A tall +figure, all dressed in black, with a white, +sweet, anxious face and blue eyes, like Tib's +and grandpapa's own, streaming with tears, +stood beside him. He stared at it half +stupefied. I think he thought he was +dreaming. But it spoke.</p> + +<p>"Brother, dear, dear brother, it is I. +Do you know me—will you forgive me +at last? Oh, dear, dear brother, forgive +me."</p> + +<p>He gazed at her as if he did not see +her.</p> + +<p>"I do not know why you have come," +he said. "Do you know what has happened? +My children—poor Gerald's children—are +drowned, all of them. I am quite alone in +the world."</p> + +<p>"No, no," she cried, "they are not +drowned. They will be here in a few +minutes. It was that gave me courage to +come—to bring you the good news. Gerald, +for <i>their</i> sake, for the dear children's sake, +won't you at last forgive me and let me +help you with them? Oh, I will love them +so if you will let me. Brother, say quick +before they come—say you will forgive me +at last. I have so suffered, I have been +punished so long. Brother, say you forgive +your poor Queenie."</p> + +<p>She half knelt, half sank down beside him—all +I am writing is from what Regina has +told me, and her mother herself told her—grandpapa +stretched out +his arms, and she flung +herself into them.</p> +<div><img class="figright" src="images/img276b.jpg" height="300" alt="SHE KNELT BESIDE HIM" /></div> +<p>"Queenie, my +little Queenie," +he said, "<i>you</i> +have brought +me the good +news—is +it true, +quite +true?"</p> + +<p>Auntie—that is, of course, what she is +to us—auntie was almost frightened. He +was so gentle, so clinging, and unlike his +usual cold decided self. And a sort of +terror went through her for a moment, +"Suppose it didn't turn out to be true that +we were safe."</p> + +<p>"I should never forgive myself, <i>never</i>," +she thought, "if I have raised his hopes +only for them to be dashed again;" and +even while she went on repeating that it +was true, he would see us directly, she +trembled.</p> + +<p>But there came a noise—a very slight, +distant sound at first—of many voices and +steps approaching. Auntie's ears are quick, +and that evening they were quicker than +usual, even. She heard it ever so far off, +long before grandpapa heard anything. And +she listened, trembling. Were the voices +cheerful?—<i>was</i> it all right?</p> + +<p>I have so often heard all the story of that +evening—of other people's part of it, I +mean—that I seem to be able to see it all +for myself as it must have looked to them. +I can so picture auntie standing there, +scarcely daring to breathe in her anxiety to +hear! And the first thing that quite +reassured her was Regina's voice speaking +in a pitying, petting, yet laughing way to +Gerald.</p> + +<p>"My poor old man! no one will be vexed +with you for crying, for, as you say, you +<i>are</i> only seven years old." <i>Of course</i>, +in Gerald's troubles he had begun his +old cry!</p> + +<p>And in another moment the dining-room +door opened and a queer-looking group +appeared. There was Regina in a shawl +thrown over her head, she had not waited to +put on her hat; there was Mr. Lauriston and +two or three gardeners and people we had +gathered on the way—for, of course, we had +come round by the proper entrance to the +Old House, and had found them all at the +pit—and in the middle of the crowd three +very dishevelled-looking little figures, with +eyes swollen with crying, and now blinking +at the sudden light, who rushed forward to +grandpapa, calling out all together—</p> + +<p>"Oh! dear grandpapa, please forgive us. +We didn't mean to disobey you."</p> + +<p>And before we knew where we were he +had us all in his arms at once, and he was +hugging us as he had never hugged us +before.</p> + +<p>"My children," he said, "my dear little +children."</p> + +<p>But when he looked up and saw Regina, +he really did start.</p> + +<p>"Is it<span class="nowrap">——</span>?" he began, and then he +looked round at auntie. "It is yourself +over again," he said, "it is you, Queenie—as +I last saw you."</p> + +<p>Fancy that; fancy the years and years +that had gone by since they had met! How +very, very strange it must have seemed.</p> + +<p>But auntie explained who Regina was, +and then grandpapa kissed her too, with a +curious wistful look in his eyes. And then +came hurrying in nurse and Mrs. Munt, whom +the good news of our return had just +reached, and we were bundled off to bed, +where we each had some nice hot stuff to +drink, and Regina explained all the queer +story to the two old servants, while down +stairs grandpapa and auntie were together +alone. And all that <i>they</i> had to tell and +ask of course we would never expect to +hear, but still, we had enough told to us to +make all that had puzzled us plain, and +to clear away all remains of our family +"mystery."</p> + +<p>This I will tell you in the next chapter. +And I will also explain to you how Regina +had come to know of our having found +our way into the Old House, the hopes +that this had put into her head—hopes +which had been more than fulfilled, thanks +to the accident with the key, which had +so strangely turned to good.</p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="minimal" /> +<p> </p> +<h3><a name="ch_12" id="ch_12"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h3> +<h4>THE STORY OF THE OLD HOUSE.</h4> +<div class="center"> +<table class="sm" style="margin: 0 auto" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="quote"> +<tr><td align="left">"Old house! that time hath deigned to spare,</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">'Mid sunny slopes and gardens fair."—<span class="smallcaps">Sigourney.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td></tr> +</table> +</div> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 120px;"> +<img src="images/ch12b.jpg" width="120" alt="I" title="" /> +</div><div class="noindent">t all seemed like a +dream the next +morning. We +slept much later +than usual, for +we were quite +tired out. I can +never even now think +of that evening—shut +up in the dark in the +big bare room—without +a sort of shudder. It really was dreadful: +we were so cold that when we did fall asleep +it was only to wake again with a start +to find ourselves shivering and aching. +And it was frightening, too: though we +squeezed together as close as we could, +we felt dreadfully alone. And alone we +really were; for, as we understood afterwards, +there was nobody at all in the Old +House. The person who dusted it was the +woman who lived at the lodge, and only +came up in the mornings. Regina had +taken her a little into her confidence. The +day she hurried away when a bell rang, +it was the woman ringing to let her know the +Rectory pony-carriage was coming up the +lane. Auntie knew that Regina came to +the Old House, but she thought it was +just to wander about the garden, and that +day she had promised to call for her at +the lodge. For the Old House belonged +to auntie: it had belonged to the Mowbrays +for a very, very great many years. And +this brings me to the story of the long-ago +troubles which we were told—the +story which explained everything which +had puzzled us.</div> + +<p>It was Mrs. Munt who told it us. She +came into our room—Tib's and my room—that +morning before we were up—we +had had our breakfast in bed—and sat +down between our cots.</p> +<div class="center"> +<table style="margin: 0 auto" cellpadding="4" summary="Illustration"> + <tr> + <td align="center"> + <a href="images/img285a.jpg"> + <img src="images/img285a.jpg" height="400" + alt="MRS. MUNT TOLD US" /></a> + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td align="center"><span class="small"><i>It was Mrs. Munt who told it us.</i></span><br /> + <span class="caption">Click to <a href="images/img285a.jpg">ENLARGE</a></span> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> +<p>"My dears," she began, "your dear +grandpapa and—and my dear lady, Mrs. +Mowbray, Miss Queenie as was—they have +asked me to tell you something of the past, +so that you may understand all. It is a +great honour they have done me, and I +will endeavour to show that I feel it such. +But oh," and here she fairly broke down, +"this is a happy, a blessed day—to see them +at one again, and oh, my dears, it was a +happy day that brought you to Rosebuds, +for all the anguish of heart of Mrs. Liddy +and myself last night, we shall never but +be thankful to the over-ruling powers as +directed the finding of the key, and your +innocent minds to the Old House."</p> + +<p>At this point Mrs. Munt stopped. It +was a sort of little address which she thought +it her duty to make, and after this, she +went straight on.</p> + +<p>"It is a many years ago," she said, +"that it all happened. When I first came +to Rosebuds as a young girl to help in the +cooking, there was living here your grandpapa, +then a little boy of ten, and his +brother Baldwin, and Miss Mary, with their +mother, and their father, who was on the +point of going abroad with his regiment. +Not long after he left, Miss Regina was +born; then came the news of your great-grandpapa's +death, and the shock affected +your great-grandmamma so much that she +never recovered it. She died a year or +two after, Master Baldwin being by that +time preparing for the army, for he was +five years older than Master Gerald, and +Miss Mary older than he. Miss Mary took +charge of things with a lady to help her. +You can fancy that everybody was devoted +to Miss Regina, Master Gerald especially. +Some years later, Ansdell Friars came to +Master Baldwin, by his uncle's death. He +came home from time to time, and we used +to spend a part of the year there, but it never +seemed home to us, like Rosebuds. Your +grandpapa married young—he was about +twenty-four, and Miss Queenie was thirteen. +Poor Miss Mary died the year before his +marriage; you have seen her tomb at +Ansdell, and it seemed well to him to +marry, to have a lady at the head of things, +him having so much charge like, for his +brother. And your papa was born when +Miss Queenie was about fifteen. Your +grandpapa's marriage was a very happy one; +Mrs. Ansdell was a very sweet lady, and +suited him well. She had not half the +spirit nor the cleverness of Miss Queenie, +and she gave in to her husband, and she +joined with him in thinking there never +was so beautiful a creature as Miss Queenie. +How they did spoil her! Poor Master Gerald—your +papa, my dears, seemed nobody +and nothing in the family, compared with +his auntie, though he was a dear little boy. +Well, to explain—next door to Rosebuds, +as you now understand, is the Old House. +It is a far finer and larger place than this, +and it has always belonged to the Mowbrays, +who are cousins of the Ansdells, by a Miss +Regina Mowbray having married an Ansdell—your +grandpapa's grandmother she was, +as well as I can remember. It is her picture +that hangs in the big drawing-room—"</p> + +<p>"The old princess!" we exclaimed, at +which Mrs. Munt smiled—"and," she went +on, "it is from her, they always say, that +comes the beauty—the dark hair and blue +eyes, the Ansdells are, so to say, proud of. +Well,"—Mrs. Munt here hurried on a little, +I think she thought it not good for us to +say much about family beauty; it didn't +matter to <i>me</i>, with my shaggy light hair, +and browny-greeny eyes, but Tib is different—"the +families at the two houses were +very intimate—that door in the wall was +made in the Old House conservatory as a +short cut for the young ladies to run in +and out by—they and the rectory family, +this Mr. Lauriston's uncle it was then, but +this one was a great deal there, were all +most friendly. At the Old House there +were some sisters—one is living still, being +Mr. Truro's mother—and two brothers. +The eldest brother <i>was</i> a nice gentleman, +just everything a gentleman should be, +and your grandpapa was delighted when +he spoke to him for Miss Queenie. Miss +Queenie laughed and made fun of it, but in +the end she said 'yes,' and all would have +been well—for he was a gentleman no woman +could have failed to care for as a husband—had +not the younger brother come home on +leave. He had not seen Miss Queenie since +she was grown up, for he was a sailor, and +had been long away. He was handsome, +and had a taking way with him—a sort of +dash about him, and he was selfish and +false. He fell in love with her, and persuaded +her that she had fallen in love with +him, and rather than be open about it, bad +as it was to have lured her away from his +brother, he made it worse by getting her to +run away with him, and not let any one +know where they were, till he wrote to say +they were married. My dears, from that +day till yesterday, your grandpapa and she +never met again."</p> + +<p>"Was he so angry?" we asked.</p> + +<p>"Anger is no word for it. He was +turned to stone to her. The deceitfulness—that +was always his cry. Poor +Mr. John Mowbray—his great friend, the +one who had really the most to complain +of, was far gentler, though it broke his +heart. He never married, and at his death, +two years ago, all came to your auntie +as his brother's widow, for Mr. Conrad, +the brother, was dead. That is how the +Old House is now your auntie's, but she +has never lived there. She could not bear +it, seeing her brother would not forgive her, +and she had made up her mind to sell it, +and came to stay at the Rectory to get it +all arranged. It was partly hearing it was +going to be sold, made your grandpapa think +of coming here again at last—he thought it +was all quite settled, and no fear of any one +coming about. For he has not even had +any friendliness with the Rectory folk all +these years; the old rector spoke to him +before he died, and begged him to forgive +Miss Queenie, but it only made him harder. +He would never hear her name—he scored +it out wherever he came across it in a +book—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, we saw that in London," we +interrupted.</p> + +<p>"<i>Nothing</i>," continued Mrs. Munt, "but +the sight of her poor, sweet, worn face +would have changed him, and to think that +<i>she</i> should have been the one to tell him the +good news last night—it is indeed wonderful +how it has come about."</p> + +<p>"Was auntie very unhappy with that +man—the one she married?" asked Tib in +a low voice. Mrs. Munt looked sad and +grave.</p> + +<p>"My dears," she said, solemnly, "no +good comes of ill-doing. The man who +deceived his kind brother, who set himself +to wile a girl away from her truest and best +friends, was not the man to make a good +husband. She must have suffered more +than you—or we, maybe—could understand. +But it is past, and you need never +think of it again, except as a warning. +Your dear auntie may tell you more herself +as you grow older. But for me, I think I +have done my part; and, indeed, I could +almost feel the work of my life is near its +end now I have lived to see my dear master +and his best-loved sister united again," +and poor Mrs. Munt wiped her eyes as she +kissed us, and said we might get up now—we +were to go to the Rectory to luncheon.</p> + +<p>You will be glad to hear that she is living +still, and likely to live for many peaceful +years to come.</p> + +<p>We were, of course, very much interested +in all she had told us. It took some time +to get it quite straight and clear in our +heads, especially as we felt that we should +not much like to talk over the saddest parts +of it with any one but ourselves: not even +with Regina, for, of course, the man who +had brought so much misery to them all—Mr. +Conrad Mowbray—was her father (I +am not going to let her read this last +chapter if I can help it); and even about +dear auntie, we felt it would not be kind to +talk about it to Regina—though <i>now</i> I can +scarcely fancy even Regina herself feeling +more tender about anything and everything +to do with her mother than Tib and I, who +are really only her grandnieces, do.</p> + +<p>We were at the same time in a hurry to +get dressed, and go down stairs, and yet a +little afraid.</p> + +<p>"Last night I wasn't afraid of grandpapa," +said Tib; "we seemed all worked +up, so that only the <i>realest</i> feelings mattered. +Little top feelings, like being shy and all +that, seemed pushed away."</p> + +<p>I didn't answer for a moment. I was +thinking over what she said.</p> + +<p>"Do you think our being afraid of grandpapa +and fancying we don't love him is only +a top feeling after all?" I said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tib, "I do. Anyway, <i>I'm</i> +going to love him now. Perhaps, if he has +so many to love him now—auntie and +Regina, and you and me—all at once, the +lot of it will make up for his having had so +little all these years. Things come like that +sometimes, I suppose."</p> + +<p>While we were talking—we took a good +while to dress, for we wanted to be very +neat to go to the Rectory—there came a +tap at the door, and in walked Gerald, as +cool as a cucumber.</p> + +<p>"I'm ready," he said, and indeed one +could see by the scrubby look of his cheeks +that he had had an extra amount of soap. +"I've got my best suit on to go to the +Rectory."</p> + +<p>"But, Gerald," said Tib, "don't you want +to hear all about how it's all been. Gussie +and I can tell you," for I forgot to say that +Mrs. Munt had told us we had better explain +a little to him. "Don't you want to +know why the Old House that we called the +palace was shut up, and how it comes +to be auntie's, and how she is our auntie, +and—"</p> + +<p>"No," interrupted Gerald. "I don't +want to know anything. It puzzles me. +I'm only seven years old."</p> + +<p>We looked at him in astonishment. Then +we fairly burst out laughing.</p> + +<p>"I never saw such a boy," said Tib. +"You're so lazy, Gerald, you won't even let +your mind work enough to understand about +your own family."</p> + +<p>"I do understand all I need," said +Gerald; "I understand that we've got an +auntie, and that she's very kind, and that +Regina is a cousin, and she's very nice too—so +nice that I'm still going to think she's +a fairy. That's what I've settled, and I +think it's quite enough when I'm only +seven."</p> + +<p>And from that day to this I have never +heard him express any curiosity or make +any inquiries as to all that had happened. +I fancy Gerald will get through life +comfortably—though to do him justice he +is working very well at school, and doesn't +seem to be considered lazy at all.</p> + +<p>Tib and I had still enough questions to +ask to make up for his not asking any. +We were in a fever to see Regina, and very +glad when Gerald ran up stairs again to say +that she had just driven over in the Lauristons' +pony-carriage to fetch us, and was +waiting downstairs, and we hurried down +as fast as we could.</p> + +<p>"But what about grandpapa?" said Tib, +as we got to the first landing. "Should we +not go to say good morning or something +to him?"</p> + +<p>I hesitated, but just at that moment we +heard his voice. He was standing in the +porch talking to Regina. You can't think +how funny it seemed. When he heard us +he came into the hall and met us at the +foot of the stairs. Then he kissed us each, +in a way he had never kissed us before. It +was like saying, "You understand all now. +Let us begin a new life together;" though +his <i>said</i> words were only, "Good morning, +my dear children. Are you all quite well +and not tired now?"</p> + +<p>"Quite well, thank you, dear grandpapa," +and I am sure he understood "between the +lines," as people say of a letter meaning +more than it shows.</p> + +<p>"I wish you could come with us, Uncle +Gerald," said Regina, as we were driving +off.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, my dear, but I am very +busy," he said. There was a look in his +eyes to her that I had never seen before.</p> + +<p>"But Charlie will be here this afternoon, +and he does help you, doesn't he?" she +said.</p> + +<p>"Very much," grandpapa replied.</p> + +<p>We looked back at him, standing there +in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Grandpapa is changed since last night," +said Tib.</p> + +<p>"How?" said Regina, anxiously. "You +don't think he's ill?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Tib, "though he does look +very pale. But his face seems older and +<i>yet</i> younger. It has got a sort of softer look, +as if at last he wasn't going to fight against +himself anymore, but that it has tired him."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Regina, "I understand. Then +<i>you</i> understand now—you and Gussie?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," we answered. "Mrs. Munt has +told us a great deal. But there are some +things only you can tell us, and we want +dreadfully to ask you."</p> + +<p>"Fire away," said Regina, and she did so +laugh when we didn't understand her; for, +of course, though she had never had any +brothers or sisters, she hadn't lived the +shut-up way we had done.</p> + +<p>"We want to know," we began, "how +you knew about us going to the—the Old +House, and how you knew our names and +about us altogether."</p> + +<p>"It was Charlie Truro that told me about +you," she said. "He is my cousin as +much—no, a good deal more—than he is +yours, and we have always been a great +deal together. He has known what a +terrible sorrow it was to mamma to be +estranged from her only brother, and he +and I have often planned what we could +do. We were very glad when Uncle +Gerald agreed to take him as a sort of +secretary for a while—it seemed a sort of +beginning."</p> + +<p>"I wonder grandpapa ever did," I said. +"Wasn't it rather a wonder? For he +knew he was a near cousin of yours, I +suppose?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Regina, "but it came about +naturally enough, through some friends +who had no connection with us. And once +he had seen Charlie, Uncle Gerald seems to +have taken a fancy to him. We came down +here to stay at the Rectory, not knowing +any one was at Rosebuds. Your coming +was kept very quiet. Then Charlie told us +of it, when he wrote, and when he came +down here he managed to come to see us +one day—a Sunday it was—at the Rectory, +and told us all about you. And to me, +though to no one else, he told of your +funny trouble, about having got into the +Old House and wondering if it was naughty, +and then we planned together—he and I—that +I should meet you there. I don't +know exactly what I hoped for—I think +Charlie had a vague idea that some day +Uncle Gerald might see me, and that—with +me being so like mamma—it might +do some good. But we hadn't fixed anything, +we meant to talk it all over the next +time he came—to-day, that is. He little +thought he would find it all done when +he came."</p> + +<p>"Won't he be surprised!" I said.</p> + +<p>"Mamma sent him a telegram this morning," +she said. "He deserved it."</p> + +<p>But by this time we were at the +Rectory.</p> + +<p>We couldn't help feeling rather shy; we +had really never been out anywhere before +except once, in London, when we had gone +to have tea with a niece of nurse's, who +had a shop in one of the big streets, and we +had tea in the parlour behind. So that was +<i>quite</i> different, of course. At the Rectory +it was very nice except for our being shy. +But after luncheon, when we went out into +the garden with auntie, she soon sent away +the shyness. She was just as kind and +understanding as she could be, as she has +been ever since—such a <i>perfect</i> auntie that +our only wonder now is how we ever did +without her all those years.</p> + +<p>We had to tell her all <i>our</i> story over +again, all from the beginning of grandpapa's +telling us we were to come to Rosebuds, +and the book with the name scored through; +we <i>had</i> to tell her, though we were afraid +of making her cry, down to our finding the +key and getting into the house, and the old +princess, and the new princess, and all. +She asked us questions, too, about Ansdell +Friars, and in what ways it was changed +since she had seen it.</p> + +<p>"I should like to see it again," she said; +"though it would never seem as much +home to me as here," and she sighed a little.</p> + +<p>"But you're not going away from here +now, auntie," we said, "You're not going +to sell the Old House?"</p> + +<p>Auntie smiled.</p> + +<p>"I hope not," she said. "They all think +I am in no way bound to Jackman. Indeed, +it was his haggling so about the price that +brought me down here this summer. But +one thing I have already given orders for: +those horrid pools are to be filled up at +once. I won't have dear Gerald's peace of +mind disturbed by any anxiety <i>I</i> can do +away with."</p> + +<p>We stared—it wasn't for a minute or two +that we understood whom she was talking +of. It was so funny to hear grandpapa +spoken of as "Gerald"—and when we found +out whom she meant, we all burst out +laughing. And while we were still laughing +we heard wheels, and there was Mr. +Truro, who had looked in for a moment on +his way from the station. I don't think I +ever saw any one's face look so happy and +pleased as his did!</p> + +<p>We all went back together to Rosebuds. +Auntie and Regina said they were going to +have afternoon tea with grandpapa, and you +don't know how nice it looked, all neatly put +out in the pretty old drawing-room, and +poor auntie kept giving little cries of mixed +pleasure and pain as she recognised one old +friend after another among the china and +the silver, and even the <i>cakes</i>, which were a +secret of Mrs. Munt's that no one could make +but herself.</p> + +<p>And after tea we had a great treat. +Auntie persuaded grandpapa that the air +would do him good, and so she coaxed him +out into the garden and then down the lane, +and so on into the Old House grounds. +And then she and Regina took us all over +it—"It is best to get over the first seeing +it again at once," I heard auntie whisper to +grandpapa, "and the children's pleasure will +make it seem different."</p> + +<p>It <i>is</i> such a beautiful old house. I could +write almost another book about it, and it +was so strange to get into the big drawing-room +by the double doors through which +Regina used to disappear, to see our old +princess smiling down at us in our happiness +just exactly as she had done in our trouble!</p> + +<p>Poor old, ever young princess! We shall +always love you, but nothing, <i>nothing</i> like +our own dear bright living fairy who has +brought such new joy and good into our +lives. We have seldom been parted from +her and her mother since that day; we are +almost always together, grandpapa and +auntie and Regina and we children, and +very often Mr. Truro too. Grandpapa says +he is getting very old, but he <i>really</i> doesn't +look so, and even when he <i>does</i> get "very +old," we shall all only love him the better.</p> +<p> </p> + +<h4>THE END.</h4> +<p> </p> +<h6>RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LONDON AND BUNGAY.</h6> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Palace in the Garden, by Mary Louisa Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PALACE IN THE GARDEN *** + +***** This file should be named 36431-h.htm or 36431-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/4/3/36431/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch1.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0b5523b --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch1.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch10b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch10b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e386d34 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch10b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch11b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch11b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f997bb --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch11b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch12b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch12b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4f707ef --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch12b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch2b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch2b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..971f7dd --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch2b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch3b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch3b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..13968be --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch3b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch4b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch4b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38764f5 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch4b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch5b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch5b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff779a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch5b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch6b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch6b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e2dffd --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch6b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch7b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch7b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e77da8d --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch7b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch8b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch8b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..abdd2a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch8b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/ch9b.jpg b/36431-h/images/ch9b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fcb92ae --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/ch9b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/frontis.jpg b/36431-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..28f3e24 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/frontis.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img011b.jpg b/36431-h/images/img011b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..70b75d0 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img011b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img045.jpg b/36431-h/images/img045.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b1bb556 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img045.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img061b.jpg b/36431-h/images/img061b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c7cc5bf --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img061b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img103.jpg b/36431-h/images/img103.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2e77e7f --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img103.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img127b.jpg b/36431-h/images/img127b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac4b8d7 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img127b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img145.jpg b/36431-h/images/img145.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..992ee99 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img145.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img147.jpg b/36431-h/images/img147.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa50f79 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img147.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img181.jpg b/36431-h/images/img181.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8fb2b5b --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img181.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img200b.jpg b/36431-h/images/img200b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f85a64 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img200b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img218b.jpg b/36431-h/images/img218b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..590bfad --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img218b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img276b.jpg b/36431-h/images/img276b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..653f667 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img276b.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/img285a.jpg b/36431-h/images/img285a.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..408fb9d --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/img285a.jpg diff --git a/36431-h/images/tp2.jpg b/36431-h/images/tp2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..653aa82 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431-h/images/tp2.jpg diff --git a/36431.txt b/36431.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..47ee310 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4973 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Palace in the Garden, by Mary Louisa Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Palace in the Garden + +Author: Mary Louisa Molesworth + +Illustrator: Harriet M. Bennett + +Release Date: June 15, 2011 [EBook #36431] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PALACE IN THE GARDEN *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + + + + + THE + PALACE IN THE GARDEN. + + + BY + MRS. MOLESWORTH, + AUTHOR OF "CARROTS," "SILVERTHORNS," "FOUR WINDS FARM," ETC. + + + LONDON: + HATCHARDS, PICCADILLY. + 1887. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + CHAPTER I. PAGE + WE THREE 1 + + CHAPTER II. + THE SCORED-OUT NAME 22 + + CHAPTER III. + "ROSEBUDS" 50 + + CHAPTER IV. + THE DOOR IN THE GARDEN WALL 73 + + CHAPTER V. + WHAT GERALD FOUND 99 + + CHAPTER VI. + OPEN, SESAME 124 + + CHAPTER VII. + GRANDPAPA'S SECRETARY 146 + + CHAPTER VIII. + STEPPED OUT OF THE FRAME 172 + + CHAPTER IX. + OUR FAIRY 198 + + CHAPTER X. + THREE STARLINGS 223 + + CHAPTER XI. + BROTHER AND SISTER 248 + + CHAPTER XII. + THE STORY OF THE OLD HOUSE 272 + + + + +THE PALACE IN THE GARDEN. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +WE THREE. + + "Sisters and brothers, little maid, + How many may you be?" + + +I think the best beginning is the morning that grandpapa sent for us +to come down to the study. Tib and Gerald, don't think so. They say I +should begin by telling our names, and how old we were, and all that--at +least, Gerald says so; Tib isn't quite sure. Tib very often isn't quite +sure. She has got too grand ideas, and if she were going to write a +story, she would make it like poetry, very difficult to understand, and +awfully long words, and lots about feelings and sorrows and mysteries. +I like mysteries, too--I think they are very interesting, and I _have_ +one to tell about, as you will see, only I must tell it my own way, +and after all, as this story is only to be read by Tib and Gerald--and +our children--we have settled that when we are all three grown-up and +married, and have children, it shall be made into a book for them--I +daresay it doesn't much matter how it is told. + +Well, that morning we were all poking our heads as far as we dared out +of the school-room window--Miss Evans hadn't yet come--to see the first +primrose man that had passed that year. We heard his "All a blowing, all +a growing," far off down the street, but we hadn't yet seen him and his +basket with the beautiful light yellow bunches at the top, and we were +wondering if we could get Fanny to run out and buy us twopence-worth, +when Bland stuck his solemn and rather crabbed-looking face in at the +door. Bland is grandpapa's "own man," as they say, and his name doesn't +suit him at all--at least, it didn't then--he's not so bad now we're +older. + +"Young ladies and Master Gerald," he said, "my master wishes you all to +come down stairs to speak to him before he goes out." + +Down we all tumbled from the window-sill. Tib and I began smoothing our +aprons and tugging at each other's hair--grandpapa was very particular. +Gerald only looked at his hands. + +"They are rather dirty," he said seriously. "But I did wash them so +very well this morning, and it's not ten o'clock yet. Do you think, +Gussie----?" + +I knew what he was going to say, so I cut him short. + +"Yes, I do think you'd better run and wash them _at once_--why, you +might have had them done by now--they are just perfectly grimy." + +For Gerald would any day talk for ten minutes about why he _needn't_ +wash his hands rather than run off and do them. I am afraid he was +rather a dirty little boy--he'll be very angry if he sees that, for he +is now getting to be very particular indeed--for though he liked bathing +in the sea, he would do anything to avoid washing--regular good soapy +washing. But he was too afraid of grandpapa to stand out when I said +his hands were as bad as "grimy;" so off he went. + +"Are we to come down at once?" asked Tib. + +"Yes, miss. Your grandpapa has ordered the brougham to be round in ten +minutes," Bland graciously informed us as Gerald started off. + +"I wonder what it's about?" said Tib. "I hope he's not vexed with us." + +For it wasn't often that grandpapa sent for us in the morning, except on +birthdays or Christmas Day, when he had presents for us. He never forgot +about that, I must say. + +"Why should he be vexed with us?" I said. "We've not done anything +naughty;" for Tib was standing there with the tears on their way to +her big blue eyes, as I could see quite well--and I've no patience +with people who look as if they had been naughty when they haven't. + +"Well, you go in first, then, Gussie," said Tib. "I wish I wasn't +frightened, but I can't help it." + +By this time we were on the stairs, not far from the study door, and +Gerald had run after us, with very red shiny paws, you may be sure, and +in another moment we were all three in "the august presence," as Tib +called it afterwards. + +Grandpapa had just finished his breakfast. He used often to have it +like that, just on a little tray in the study. It didn't look very +comfortable, and he might quite as well have had it in the dining-room +all nicely set out, and Tib and me to pour out his coffee in turns. But +he did not think of it, I suppose, and at that time I don't think we +did, either. We had never seen any other "ways;" we didn't know how +other families lived--families where there were mammas, or any way +grandmammas, or aunts, as well as children, and we were so young that we +just took things as we found them. I think children are generally like +that, especially if they see very little outside their own homes. + +Grandpapa was not old-looking at all--not the least like the pictures in +old-fashioned books of a very aged man, with a gentle and rather silly +face, and a white beard, and a stick, sitting in a big arm-chair by the +fire, and patting a very curly-haired grandchild on the head. I'm quite +sure grandpapa never patted any of us on the head; and _now_, of course, +we're too big. But I didn't mind his not being like the pictures of +grandpapas, and now I mind it still less, for I'm really proud of his +being so nice-looking. That morning I can remember quite well how he +looked as he sat by the table, with the tray pushed away, and a whole +bundle of letters before him. He glanced up at us as we came trooping +in, with his bright dark eyes and a half smile on his face. We were not +very fond of that half smile of his: it made it so difficult to tell if +he was in fun or earnest. + +"Well, young people," he said, "and how does the wind blow this +morning?" + +He looked at Gerald as he spoke. Gerald was staring at his red hands. + +"I don't know, grandpapa," he said; and then seeing that grandpapa's +eyes were still fixed on him, he got uncomfortable, and tugged Tib, +who was next him. "Tib knows, p'r'aps," he said. "I'm only seven, +grandpapa." + +Grandpapa moved his eyes to Tib. + +"It strikes me," he said, "that you're getting too big, young woman, to +be spoken of as if you were a kitten. You must call your sister by her +proper name, Gerald." + +"It's hard for him to say, grandpapa," said Tib. "That's why Gussie and +he always say Tib, instead of Mercedes." + +"Umph!--yes--Tom-fool name!" said grandpapa, which made me rather angry. + +"No, grandpapa, it's not a Tom-fool name," I said. "It's Spanish; and it +was because our papa and mamma lived in Spain that they called it her." + +I daresay I spoke pertly. Any way, I was punished, for my words had the +effect of bringing the eyes upon me in my turn. + +"Called it her? called it her?" he repeated slowly. "What English! Miss +Evans is to be congratulated on her success! So Mercedes is a Spanish +name, is it? Thank you--thank you very much indeed for the information. +Now perhaps you will all be good enough to listen to some information +from me." + +I had got very red while grandpapa was speaking, quite as much from +anger as from shame, for I wasn't so easily put down as Tib and Gerald; +I had a quicker temper. But when grandpapa spoke of having information +to give us, I felt so curious to know what it could be that I tried to +look as if I hadn't minded what he said. So he went on: + +"I'm going to send you all off to the country next week; I don't want +to keep this house open. I am very busy, and I would rather live at my +club." Grandpapa stopped a minute. I think he wanted to see what we +would say. + +"Are we to go to Ansdell Friars so soon?" I said. I suppose I didn't +seem very pleased, and no more did Tib or Gerald. It wasn't very +long--only three or four months--since we had come from there, and there +was nothing at Ansdell we much cared about. We knew it all so well. It +was a regular big, grand country house; but its bigness was not much +good to us, as we were strictly shut up in our own rooms, and sharply +scolded if we were found out of them; and there was nothing amusing or +interesting there. The country is not pretty, and the walks are not to +be compared with those at--never mind where; I shall tell you the name +of the place in a little while. So we had no particular reason for being +glad to go back there; on the whole, I think we liked London better. We +had less of Miss Evans in London, for she only came every day; but at +Ansdell Friars she lived with us. Grandpapa had persuaded her to do so, +but she didn't like it, and we didn't like it, so we were not very happy +together. She didn't like children, and was only a governess because she +had to be, not because she liked it, and she was always telling us so. +I used to think then all governesses were the same, but I know better +now. There are some _awfully_ nice, who really like teaching, and aren't +always scolding the children, as if it was their own fault that they are +children and have to be taught. + +"And is Miss Evans coming?" said Gerald, dolefully. + +"You are not going to Ansdell Friars at all; and, I am sorry to say," +grandpapa went on, "Miss Evans is not able to go with you. Nurse will +have to look after you till I can find another Miss Evans." + +Our faces fell, I have no doubt, at the last sentence. Another Miss +Evans! Still, it was very nice to think there'd be _no_ Miss Evans for +a while. Nurse looking after us meant, as we knew very well, that we +should do pretty much as we liked; for nurse spoiled us most horribly. +It was a very delightful prospect. + +"We'll try to be very good, grandpapa," said Tib. + +"Umph!" said grandpapa. + +"And when are we going, please?" I could not resist putting in. I was +burning with curiosity, and so, I am sure, were the others, though they +were afraid to ask. Grandpapa looked at me. + +"Upon my word, Gustava," he said, "I think you might give me time to +tell you. When I was young, children were not allowed to cross-question +their elders. You are going to a little country house I have which +you have never seen nor heard of. It is much nearer town than Ansdell +Friars, so I shall be able to come down every now and then to see you, +and to hear if you are behaving properly. It is a much smaller place +than Ansdell--in fact, it's quite a small house. But there's a good +garden; you will have plenty of space to play in. Only I wish you +to understand one thing: there are other houses near--it isn't like +Ansdell, all alone in a park--and neighbours, of course. Now, I won't +have you make friends with any one unless I tell you you may. You are +not to go into other people's houses or to chatter to strangers. Do +you understand?" + +"Yes, grandpapa," we all three replied, feeling rather frightened. I +don't think we did quite understand, for we never had made friends with +any one. We had lived very solitary lives, without any companions of +our own age--for we had scarcely any relations, and none that we knew +anything of. And as people don't miss what they have never had, I don't +think it would ever have come into our heads to do what grandpapa was so +afraid of. He certainly made us think more about other people than we +had ever done before. + +"What is the name of the place, please, grandpapa?" asked Tib in her +soft voice. + +If it had been _me_ that had asked it, he would have snubbed me again. +But it was certainly true, as the servants all said, that he favoured +Tib the most. Perhaps it was that she was so pretty--perhaps it was for +a reason that I can't tell just yet. + +"The name of the place," he repeated--"of the house, I suppose you mean? +The name of the place does not matter to you. You will not have to take +your own tickets at the station. The house has an absurd name, but as +it has always been called so, it is no use thinking of changing it. It +is called 'Rosebuds.'" + +Grandpapa stood up as he spoke, and just then Bland opened the door to +announce the carriage. So we all said good-bye to him and trotted off. +We knew we should probably not see him again for two or three days, but +we were so used to it we did not care; and we had plenty to interest our +minds and give us something to talk of. + +"What a very pretty name 'Rosebuds' is," Tib exclaimed, as soon as we +were safely out of hearing. "I'm sure it must be a very pretty place +to have such a name. I daresay it's a white cottage, with beautiful +old-fashioned windows, and roses climbing all over." + +"I don't like cottages with roses growing over them," said Gerald. +"There are always witches living in cottages like that, in the fairy +tales. There is in _Snow-white and Rose-red_." + +"Well," said Tib, "it would be rather fun to have a witch at Rosebuds. +I do hope there'll be something interesting and out of the common +there--something _romantic_." Tib said the last word rather slowly. I +don't think she was quite sure how to say it, and I am quite sure none +of us knew what it meant. + +"I hope there'll be nice hide-and-seek places in the garden, and nice +trees for climbing up, and perhaps grassy hills for rolling down," said +I. "If grandpapa only comes to see us now and then, and there's no Miss +Evans, and only old Liddy"--old Liddy was nurse--"it _will_ be very +jolly. I shouldn't wonder--I really shouldn't--if it was more jolly than +we've ever had anything in our lives--more like how the children in +story-books are, you know, Tib." + +For about this time we had begun to read a good deal more to ourselves, +and among the old books in grandpapa's library we had found a nest +which contained great treasures; many of the volumes had belonged to +our father when he was a boy, and some even had been grandpapa's own +childish books. Grandpapa had given us leave to read them, and you can +fancy what a treat it was to us, who had had so little variety in our +lives, to get hold of _Holiday House_, and the _Swiss Family Robinson_, +and the _Parent's Assistant_, and best of all perhaps, the dearest +little shabby, dumpy, dark-brown book of real old-fashioned fairy +tales. I have it still--no shabbier for all our thumbing of it: it +is so strongly bound, though it is so plain and dingy-looking, and +I mean to keep it for my children. + +"But grandpapa said he was going to find another Miss Evans, Gussie," +said Gerald. + +"Never mind. She isn't found yet; and I don't believe there _could_ be +another quite as bad as this one," I said, consolingly. + +But a brilliant idea struck Tib. She stopped short on the top step but +one--we were climbing up stairs by this time--before the school-room +landing, and turned round so as to face us two--Gerald and me. + +"I tell you what, Gussie and Gerald," she said: "suppose we were to be +very, just _dreadfully_ good at our lessons for a little, don't you +think it _might_ make Miss Evans tell grandpapa that she really thought +we should be the better for a holiday. I should think even _she_ would +like to do something good-natured before she left." + +Gerald and I stood listening. It was a grave matter, and we did not want +to commit ourselves hastily. + +"Do you mean being very quiet in the school-room, never whispering to +each other, or making even the least little bit of funny faces when +she's not looking? or do you mean doing our lessons for her just awfully +well?" + +"Both," said Tib, solemnly. + +"Oh, I don't think I _could_," I replied. "It is so very nice to be +naughty sometimes." + +"But, Gussie," said Gerald, "any way, you might settle to do our lessons +terribly well. Don't you see, if we did them quite well Miss Evans might +think we knew everything, and she might tell grandpapa we didn't need to +learn anything more." + +"And you might settle to be naughty with _us_ or with Liddy," said Tib, +persuasively. "Gerald and I will promise not to mind, won't we, Gerald? +And we'll explain to Liddy." + +"I'll think about it," was all I could say. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE SCORED-OUT NAME. + + "How new life reaps what the old life did sow." + EDWIN ARNOLD. + + +I was the naughty one of the family. I dare say you--whoever you +are--that are going to read this will have found this out already, and +it was best to make it plain at the beginning. Tib and Gerald were +really very good--at least, they would have been if I had let them. But +still, as I used often to say to them as a sort of a make-up for the +troubles I got them into, it _would_ have been rather dull work had we +all three been extra good. And even the great thing that I have to write +about, _the_ thing that put it into my head to write at all, would never +have come but for our being in a way naughty--that is very queer, isn't +it? To think that good and nice things should sometimes come out of +being naughty! I have often puzzled about it. I think it must be that +there are different kinds of naughtiness--_perfectly_ different--for +nothing good could come out of real, wicked naughtiness--telling lies, +or being cruel to each other, or things like that; but the sort of +naughtiness of just being mischievous, and of being so bubbling over +with the niceness of being alive, that you _can't_ keep quiet, and +remember about not knocking things over and tearing yourself, and the +naughtiness of hating your lessons on a beautiful day, when it's really +too tempting out-of-doors--all these kinds of naughtiness and lots of +others I could tell you, for I've thought so much about it--all these +kinds are different, surely? And one can fancy good and nice things +coming out of them without getting one's ideas muddled. That's one thing +I'm going to be very particular about with my children--I'm going to +explain to them _well_ about the two kinds of being naughty, so that +they won't get all into a puzzle about it. I think I even shall settle +to have two kinds of words for them; for I do know, I am sorry to say, +what it is to be really naughty too. Just a few times in my life I can +remember the dreadful feeling of real, boiling anger at some one--I had +it several times to Miss Evans, and once or twice to--no, I won't say; +it's all so different now. And _once_ I told what wasn't true, quite +knowing all about it. But I _never_ did it again. The horribleness of +the feeling was too bad, and in _that_ way my naughtiness did me good! + +Our plan for getting Miss Evans to help us to a holiday hadn't much +chance, as you shall hear. + +When we got to the school-room we found she hadn't come, though it was +a quarter to ten, and she generally came at half-past nine. + +"Everything seems going topsy-turvy to-day," said I, seating myself on +the high guard, and swinging my feet about. It was a very dangerous +seat, as the guard was anything but steady, and if it toppled over, +there was no saying but that you might be landed in the middle of the +fire. "Miss Evans late--and us going away to a place we never heard of +before! It's almost as nice as if the sun had forgotten to get up--what +fun that would be!" + +"I don't think that would be fun at all," said Gerald. "I'd much rather +he should forget to go to bed some night. Which would you rather, Tib?" + +But Tib wasn't listening. She was pressing her face against the window, +her thoughts intent upon primroses again. + +"Hush!" she said; "I'm sure I heard him. He can't be far off yet, or +else it's another man. Listen." And as she held up her finger there came +softly through the distance again the "All a growing, all a blowing." + +"I wonder why things seem so much prettier far off," said Tib, +thoughtfully. But just then the cry came again, and this time +unmistakably nearer. Off darted Tib. "I will try to get Fanny to catch +him," she said; and in five minutes she was back again in triumph. + +"Fanny wasn't to be found, of course," she said. "But that good Liddy +poked up the little page-boy--he's new, so he hasn't learnt to be +impudent yet--and sent him down the street. We shall have the primroses +directly. Oh, I say, Gussie and Gerald"--and Tib flung herself down on +the hearth-rug, and rolled herself over, as if she were on a lawn of +beautiful fresh grass--"just fancy if we were in the country, and could +gather primroses for ourselves--as many as ever we wanted. _Wouldn't_ it +be lovely?" + +"Perhaps we may--perhaps they won't be over when we go to that place," +said Gerald. + +"I wonder when exactly we shall go?" I said. And then our thoughts all +returned to Rosebuds, and what our grandfather had said about it. + +"I wonder why he doesn't want us to make friends with any of the +neighbours?" I said. "I think it's rather crabby of him. There may +be some nice children there, and we never have any playfellows." + +"I suppose he's got some reason for it," said Tib. "Perhaps the people +who live there are all very common. You know, grandpapa is right to be +particular about us." + +"I don't think it is that. I think he has some other reason. Tib, do you +know," I exclaimed, as a curious idea flashed across my mind, "I have an +idea that----" + +But I was interrupted before I could say more by the entrance of old +Liddy, bringing the primroses. They were not very big bunches, but they +were very sweet and fresh, and we all sniffed at them in a way that +must have astonished the poor things. Nurse smiled at us. + +"I'd like to see you gathering them for yourselves, my dears," she said. + +"Well, we shall, perhaps, if we go to the country so soon. Do you know +that place where we're going to, Liddy?" asked Tib. + +She shook her head--she had come to us from mamma's family, and she +didn't know much about the Ansdells. + +"No, Miss Tib. I never heard of it till your grandpapa told me last +night about getting you ready. And that reminds me--Bland told me just +now that his master forgot to say Miss Evans wouldn't be coming to-day." + +"Miss Evans not coming to-day!" we all three exclaimed in the greatest +astonishment, for it must be confessed Miss Evans was the most exact +person possible. "Is she never coming any more, Liddy?" + +Nurse shook her head. + +"Nay, my dear, how should I know? I only heard what Bland said. Miss +Evans isn't coming with us to the country, master said." + +"But he's going to get another," said Gerald. "Will she be just +_exactly_ the same--will she have a big freckle on her cheek, and will +she nip up her mouth the same, do you think, nursey?" + +We all burst out laughing at poor Gerald. + +"It would quite spoil Rosebuds to have the big freckle there," said Tib. +"But, nursey, do you know grandpapa says we're not to make any friends +there, and not to know anybody?" + +This time Liddy nodded her head. + +"I know, my dears. Well, it can't be helped. It'll be no duller for you +there than at Ansdell Friars, any way, and it's a beautiful country for +walks, cook says. She comes from somewhere that way." + +"But why does grandpapa not want us to know anybody there--do you know, +nursey? Does cook know, perhaps?" + +Liddy looked uncomfortable. + +"My dears, there may be reasons for many things that you're too young to +understand," she said. "If your grandpapa had wanted to give his reasons +to you, he'd have done so himself; and if he didn't wish to give you +any, it would ill become me to be telling you over any fancies or +chatter I might hear about master's affairs." + +Tib's eyes grew very round. + +"I do believe there's a mystery," she said. "Oh, how beautiful! Nursey, +I'm sure you know something. What fun it would be if there was really a +mystery, and if we were to find it out. Gussie, do listen." + +But I wouldn't listen just that minute. The thought which had been put +out of my mind by nurse coming in with the primroses had come back +again. + +"Wait a minute, Tib," I said, "I've got an idea. I'm only going down to +the library to fetch a book. I may go as Miss Evans isn't coming;" and +off I flew. + +The library was not a large room--indeed, it was a good deal smaller +than grandpapa's study--but it held a great many books. It was nothing +but books, for there were shelves all round it, packed as close as they +could hold. In one corner were all the books that grandpapa allowed us +to read. He had shown them to us himself, and simply told us we might +read any of them we liked, provided we always put them back again in +their places, but that we mustn't ever take any other books without +asking his leave. That was one thing grandpapa was very nice about; +though he was so cold and strict, he always trusted us, and never +doubted our words. I'm sure that is the best way to make children quite +truthful. Except that one time I've told you of, I don't remember any of +us telling a story. It didn't seem to come into our heads to do so--we +had been with grandpapa ever since we could remember, and he had always +been the same. We had never known what it was to be loved or petted, +except by Liddy, for both papa and mamma had died of a fever in Spain, +and we had been sent home with old nurse. (I suppose I should have +explained this at the beginning; but it doesn't matter.) + +Well, I ran down to the library and went straight to our own corner. +They were funny-looking books--mostly rather shabby, for they had been +children's books for two, and some of them for three, generations. It +took me a little while to find the one I was in search of; indeed, I +wasn't quite sure which it was, and I had to take out several, and open +them to see the page at the beginning before I got the right one. It +was a small book; the name of it was _Ornaments Discovered_, and on the +first leaf was written the name of the person it had belonged to. There +were two names, but the first had been so scored through that one could +only distinguish the first letter of it, which was "R," and the second +name was our name and grandpapa's name, "Ansdell." And lower down on the +page was the date, and the name of a place just above it. But this name +also had been scored through, only not so blackly as the other, so that +it was still easy to make out that it was that of the house we were +going to live at: "Rosebuds." + +I remembered it quite well now--I had often puzzled over the writing in +this book, and though I had never made out the name before, "Ansdell," +I remembered having read that the other was "Rosebuds." I understood now +a sort of feeling I had had when grandpapa had told us the name that +morning, that I had heard it before--or, as it turned out, _seen_ it +before. + +I rushed up stairs with the little red book in my hand. + +"Tib," I said, looking and feeling very excited, "just look at this." + +Up jumped Tib--she had been down on the floor arranging the primroses +in some little glasses that we always kept on the mantelpiece for any +flowers that came our way. Liddy had left the room, and Gerald had gone +with her. We leant over the book together. + +"You see?" I said, pointing to the word above the date. + +"Yes," said Tib; "it's certainly 'Rosebuds.' I suppose grandpapa had it +when he was a little boy, there." + +"Oh, you stupid!" I exclaimed. "You're always wanting to make up +wonderful stories of adventures and mysteries, and now, when I've found +you a real mystery, all ready made, you won't see it. If it had just +been grandpapa's book, what would he have scored the name out for? +Besides, you know very well that his name is 'Gerald,' like papa and +Gerald. And _this_ name begins with a 'R.'" + +Tib had taken the book in her own hands by this time, and was peering at +it. + +"You may call me stupid, if you like," she said, "but I've found out +something else. The name is 'Regina'--my second name;" for Tib's whole +name was Mercedes Regina. "Mercedes Regina Ansdell"--isn't that an +awfully grand name for a little girl? She was a little girl then. + +I seized the book in my turn. Sure enough, now that Tib had put the +idea into my head, it seemed quite plain--even through the very thick +crossing-out one could see the confused shapes of the word "Regina." + +"You're right, Gussie," said Tib; "there _is_ a mystery. You remember +that time that grandpapa was grumbling at my name--like he did this +morning--and I said, 'Mightn't I be called by my second name?' how he +snapped out, 'No, certainly not.' It frightened me so, I remember. There +must have been somebody called 'Regina Ansdell' that he didn't like, or +he was angry with, or _something_. Oh! how I do wonder who she was, and +why he has never told us about her?" + +"We might ask nurse," I said. "I am sure she knows something--for +you see, this Regina Ansdell must have lived at Rosebuds, and it's +something about there that Liddy has heard, and won't tell us. And I +shouldn't wonder if it has to do with grandpapa's not wanting us to +know any of the people there." + +"What can it be?" said Tib, her eyes growing bigger and rounder. +"There can't surely be any one shut up there--a mysterious lady called +'Regina.' Oh, no, that can't be it, for grandpapa would never take us +there if there were. Besides--though he's rather frightening and +strict--grandpapa's not bad and wicked." + +"The Queen wouldn't let him be in the Parliament if he were," said I. +"At least, I _suppose_ not." + +"It's good of him to have all of us living with him. Nursey says it is. +I don't think we've got any money of our own." + +"Well, we're his grandchildren, and it isn't our fault that papa and +mamma died," I said. "I don't think _that's_ so very good of him. +Still, he is good to us in some ways, I know." + +Tib was still staring at the book. + +"I don't think it's any use asking nurse," she said. "If she does know +anything she doesn't want to tell us. And it's no use telling Gerald: +he's too little. If we told him not to speak of it, he'd very likely get +red the first time grandpapa looked at him--like that day you filled the +hood of Miss Evans' waterproof with peas, and he kept staring at it all +the time of our lessons, till she found out there was something the +matter." + +"No," said I; "it's better not to tell him. Of course, Tib, we mustn't +do anything _naughty_. It would be naughty to go prying into grandpapa's +secrets, if he has any. But what we've found out hasn't been with +prying. It's impossible not to _wonder_ a little about it. And it's +grandpapa's own fault for telling us so sharply not to know anybody or +speak to anybody at Rosebuds. Of course, we'll obey him, but we can't +help our minds wondering--they're made to wonder." + +Tib considered for a while. Then her face cleared. + +"I'll tell you what we can do, Gussie," she said; "we can turn it into +a play. We can't leave off wondering, as you say, but we can mix up our +wondering with fancy, and make up a plan of how it all was. It will be +_very_ interesting, for we shall know there _is_ something real, and +yet we can make it more wonderful than anything real could be now +that everything's grown so plain and--and--I don't know the word--the +opposite of poetry and fairy stories, I mean--in the world. We must +think about it, Gussie. We might make it an 'ancient times' story, or +an ogre story, or----" + +"Yes," I said, "we'll think about it." + +I did not want to disappoint Tib, and I thought, in a way, it was rather +a good idea. But I am not so fond of fancying or pretending as Tib--I +like real things. And the idea of a real secret or mystery had taken +hold of my mind, and I wanted to find out about it. Still, the making a +play of it wasn't a bad idea. As Tib said, it would be more interesting +than an altogether make-up play. + +We didn't say anything about the name in the book to Liddy. It was no +use worrying the poor old thing by teasing her about what she thought +would be wrong to tell; even if it had not anything to do with our +mystery, it would have been wrong and unkind of _us_. And we said +nothing to Gerald either; and indeed for some days we did not think or +speak much about our discovery even to each other; we were so very much +taken up about the real preparing to go away. + +It was much more of a nice bustle and fuss than it had ever been to go +to Ansdell Friars. There, everything was left from year to year just +as we had always had it. The rooms had all we needed, and there was +very little besides our clothes to pack up and take. But for going to +Rosebuds it was quite different. None of the servants had ever been +there, and they were all in a to-do about it, especially as only about +half of them were to go; and the other half were cross at being sent +away, and kept telling the others they'd be sure to find everything +wrong there. + +Nurse was the only one who was really pleased to go; and I am sure, dear +old thing, it was more for our sakes than her own. + +"It'll be a real change for them, poor dears," she kept saying; and this +gave her patience to bear all our teasing and the servants' grumbling. +What a time she had of it, to be sure! From Gerald's "Nursey, may I take +_all_ my horses? If I leave Sultan in the cupboard won't the mouses and +butterflies eat him?"--Gerald always called moths butterflies--"Will +there be any wheelbarrows, like at Ansdell?" to Fanny's suggestion that +there'd be no nursery tea-service there--"a house that nobody's been +in for years and years"--everything fell on old Liddy! And you see she +dared not go asking grandpapa all sorts of things, as if he'd been a +lady. He was even rather cross when she went trembling one day to ask +if there were shops anywhere near Rosebuds, or if she must plan to take +everything we could want for all the summer. + +"Shops," said grandpapa--I heard him, for Liddy had caught him on +his way down stairs one morning, and I was standing just inside the +school-room doorway; "of course there are shops near enough--five miles +off or so. I'm not going to take you to the middle of Africa. I dare say +there are shops enough in the village for common things. Mrs. Munt will +tell you all that. No need to worry me about it." + +"Mrs. Munt!" I had never heard that name before. I pricked up my ears, +but I was dreadfully afraid that Liddy would be too frightened to +ask any more. To my satisfaction I heard her meek old voice again: + +"And who may Mrs. Munt be, sir, if you please?" + +At this grandpapa stopped short and looked at her--I couldn't see him, +but I _felt_ him stop short and look at her. Poor Liddy! + +"Upon my soul!" he said. Then some reflection seemed to strike him, for +his next words were more amiable. + +"Mrs. Munt is the housekeeper at Rosebuds. She's been there ever since +_I_ can remember. You didn't suppose I was going to trust to that Mary +Ann's cooking?" Mary Ann was the kitchen-maid. She was coming with us, +but not the cook, who was leaving to be married. "Mrs. Munt is, or used +to be, a very good cook, and a very good sort of person altogether." + +"Oh, thank you, sir," said Liddy very heartily. Mrs. Munt was a great +relief to her mind, for the idea of Mary Ann's cooking on the days that +"master" came down to Rosebuds had been weighing on it. To me the idea +of Mrs. Munt brought back the thought of the mystery. If she had been +there as long as _grandpapa_ could remember, what must she not know? + +I flew off to Tib with the news, but she did not receive it with much +interest. + +"An old cook!" she said disdainfully. "Why, that would spoil it all. +It wouldn't matter so much for an ogre story, if we could fancy her a +witch, but for an 'ancient times' one, it would never do." + +"Oh, bother!" I exclaimed, "I don't want pretending. I want to know +about it really. If you only wanted make-ups, you can always get +things that will do for them. I am sure Miss Evans would have been a +_beautiful_ witch! Oh, Tib, aren't you glad she isn't coming any more?" + +For Miss Evans had left off coming altogether. She was going to begin a +school--how we pitied the scholars!--and had asked grandpapa to let her +off at once. She came to say good-bye to us, and gave us each a present +of a book--and, to our surprise, there were tears in her eyes when she +kissed us! People are really very queer in this world--they never seem +to care for things till they know they are not going to have them any +more. We all felt rather ashamed that we couldn't cry too, and Tib said +she was afraid we must have very little feeling, which made Gerald and +me quite unhappy for a while. + +All the same, we weren't at all in a hurry to hear of the new "Miss +Evans." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +"ROSEBUDS." + + "To one who has been long in city pent, + 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair + And open face of heaven." + KEATS' _Sonnets_. + + +I suppose it is true, as older people say, that things very seldom turn +out as one expects. Sometimes they are not so bad as one feels sure they +will be--and very often, or almost always, they are not so nice as one +has thought they would be, if one has been fancying and picturing a +great deal about them. And any way, they are never quite _what_ one +expects. I am beginning to find this out for myself now--looking back, I +can recollect very few nice things in my life that have turned out as +nice as I had imagined them. But of these few, Rosebuds was one, and +that has made me always remember with particular distinctness all about +our first acquaintance with the dear little place. I think I could tell +_everything_ about our arrival there, exactly how each room looked, and +what we had for tea--oh, how hungry we were that first evening! and I +seem to feel again the feeling of the snowy white sheets and the sort of +faint hay-ey--Tib said it was lavender--scent in our beds when we got +into them that first night--very tired, but very happy. + +What plans we made for the next day--how we settled to get up with the +sun, to ramble about and see everything--and how, after all, we slept, +of course, much later than usual! Still, it was a delicious waking. Do +you know how beautiful a first waking in the real country is when you +have been a long time in London? There is a sort of clear stillness +in the air that you can _feel_, and then a cock crows--with quite a +different crow from the poor London cocks, I always think, and hens +cluck a little, just under your window perhaps; or, best of all, a +turkey gobble-wobbles and some ducks quack--perhaps there is a rush of +all together if your window happens to be not far from the poultry-yard, +and the girl is coming out with the creatures' breakfast--and further +off you hear a moo from some cows, and nearer, and yet more distant, the +clear sweet notes of the ever busy little birds as they pass by on their +way up to who knows where? Oh, it is too delicious--and when you hear +all those sounds, as you are lying there still dreamy and sleepy, +there is a sort of strangeness and _fairy-ness_--I must make up that +word--that makes you think of Red Riding-hood setting off in the early +morning to her grandmother's cottage, or of the little princess who went +to live with the dwarfs to keep house for them. + +But I must come back to the evening before--the evening, that is to say, +of our arrival at Rosebuds. It had been a pouring wet day when we left +London (it went on pouring till we were only about half-an-hour from our +journey's end); and just at the last moment grandpapa had got a telegram +which stopped his coming with us. He grumbled a little, but I don't +think he had been looking forward with _much_ pleasure to the journey in +our company, and though we thought it our duty to look grave, and Tib +said gently, "What a pity!" I don't think _we_ minded much either. +Indeed, to tell the real truth--and it isn't any harm telling it in +here, as grandpapa will never see this story--I think it was his not +being with us, and our feeling so lovelily free and unafraid, that made +that first evening at Rosebuds so delightful. + +_And_ Mrs. Munt!--oh, yes, it had to do with Mrs. Munt. There never was +anybody so nice as Mrs. Munt--there never could be! + +But I _must_ go straight on, and not keep slipping a little bit +backwards, and hurrying on too far forwards, this sort of way. Well +then, as I was saying, it rained and rained all through the three hours' +journey, or at least two hours and a half of it, so that we all felt +rather doleful and shivery, and Liddy began hoping there'd be no mistake +about the carriage from the inn meeting us at the station, as grandpapa +had told her it should. Poor Liddy was rather inclined to get nervous +when she was thrown on her own resources. + +"Never mind, nursey," we said, all three, to comfort her; "we can easily +walk if it isn't there. You know grandpapa said it was only about half +a mile, and we've got our big cloaks on--the rain wouldn't hurt us." + +But Liddy still looked rather unhappy, till suddenly from her side of +the railway carriage Tib called out, "It's clearing up--it's clearing up +splendidly; and oh, Gussie! do look--there's such a lovely rainbow!" + +So there was. I never before or since saw such a rainbow--it seemed +a very nice welcome for us, and after all, Liddy's fears were quite +without reason. For the queer old "one-horse fly" was waiting for us, +and we all bundled into it and drove off without any mishaps, except +that nurse was sure the packet of umbrellas had been left in the railway +carriage, and stood shouting to the guard to stop after the train was +already moving out of the station, which made us all laugh so, that we +hadn't breath to tell her that it was all safe in the fly. + +Though Rosebuds is almost _in_ the village--at least, a very tiny bit +out of it--it is some little way from the station, because for some +reason that I've never found out, the station stands away by itself in +the fields, as if it and the village had quarrelled and wouldn't have +anything to say to each other. I dare say it's not a bad thing that it +is so: the nice country-ness of it all would have been a little spoilt +by the trains whistling in and out, and as it is, we scarcely hear it, +as the railroad is low down and is hardly noticed. And the road from the +station to the village _is_ so pretty. I never, even now, go along it +without remembering that first evening when we drove to Rosebuds in +the clear brightness that comes after rain, the fields and the hedges +glistening with the water diamonds, the little clouds hurrying away as +if they were afraid of being caught, and over all the sort of hush +that seems to me to follow a regular rainy day--as if the world were a +naughty child that had cried itself to sleep with the tears still on its +cheeks. + +It is a hilly bit of road--first it goes down, and then it goes up, and +when it comes into the village it does so quite suddenly. You see a +high, ivy-covered wall, which is the wall of the church-yard, and then +comes a row of sweet little alms-houses, and then the inn, and one by +one all the village houses and shops in the most irregular way possible. +Some one said once that it was more like an old German village than an +English one, but I have never been in Germany, so I can't tell, only it +certainly is very unlike everywhere else. We were so pleased to see it +so queer and funny, that we kept tugging each other to look out, first +at one side, and then at the other, and sometimes at both at once. Then +we began wondering which of the houses, as we came to them, could be +Rosebuds, and I think we would have been quite pleased whichever it +was--they _all_ looked so tempting and snug. + +But we were all wrong in our guesses, for, as I said, Rosebuds was +quite at the end, and, like the village itself, we came upon it quite +suddenly, turning sharply down a sort of lane so shaded with trees that +you could scarcely see where you were going; then with some tugging at +the old horse, and some swaying of the clumsy old fly, in we drove at an +open gate, and pulled up in front of a low white house, nestling, so to +speak, in thickly-growing, bushy trees. + +Never was a house so like its name! The trees were not really planted +so very close as they looked, but it seemed at first sight as if it was +almost buried in them: it stood out so white against their green. It +looks at first sight smaller than it really is, for it extends a good +deal out at the back. But large or small, to us it was just perfection, +and so was the very rosy old woman who stood smiling and bobbing in the +porch. She was so comical-looking that we could hardly help laughing. I +think she must find the world a very good-humoured place, for nobody +_could_ be cross when they look at her! + +"Mrs. Munt, ma'am, I suppose?" said nurse as she got down. + +And, "Certainly, ma'am," replied Mrs. Munt, and then the two old bodies +shook hands very ceremoniously. It was so funny to see their politeness +to each other. But Mrs. Munt was too eager to see us to waste much time +on Liddy. + +"And is these the dear young ladies and gentleman?" she said, hastening +forward as we emerged from the fly. "Dear, dear! to think you should be +so big already, and me never to have seen you before!" + +The tears were in her eyes, and we felt rather at a loss what to say or +do. She seemed to know all about us so well that we felt really ashamed +to think--though it certainly was not our fault--that we had never heard +of her till about two days ago. I felt too shy to speak, but Tib held +out her hand. + +"I am very glad to see you, Mrs. Munt," she said. "I am the eldest, you +know. I am Miss Ansdell." + +A slight shadow of pain crossed the old woman's face. + +"Miss Ansdell," she repeated, with a strange sadness in her tone: "yes, +my dear--to be sure--you _are_ Miss Ansdell--Master Gerald's eldest." + +"_I'm_ Gerald, too," said Gerald himself. "I'm called after grandpapa +and papa. Did you know papa when he was as little as me?" + +Mrs. Munt smiled. + +"I should think so, indeed--and your grandpapa too," she said. "And this +is Miss Gustava--you're not like the others, my dear. Perhaps you take +after your mamma's family--the Ansdells have all blue eyes and dark +hair. I remember Master Gerald writing about his lady's beautiful light +hair." + +"Yes, indeed," said nurse, rather primly, very anxious to put in a word +for her side of the house, "Miss Gussie's hair is very nice, but it's +nothing to what her dear mamma's was." + +But we didn't want to stand at the door all the evening while the old +bodies discussed our looks in this way. Gerald, who somehow seemed less +shy with Mrs. Munt than Tib and I, put a stop to it in his own way. + +"Mrs. Munt," he said, "I'm dreadfully hungry. I'm only seven years old, +you know, though I look more; and nurse says seven's a hungry age." + +"And we're hungry too--Tib and I, though I'm ten and Tib's eleven," said +I. "And we do _so_ want to see all the rooms and everything. Oh, I do +think Rosebuds is far the nicest place in the world." + +My words quite gained Mrs. Munt's heart. + +"Indeed, miss, I don't think you're far wrong," she said. And then, just +for a moment before going in, we stood and looked round. In front of +the house there was a beautiful lawn, right down to the low wall which +separated it from the high road. And away on the other side of that, +the ground sloped down gradually, so that we seemed to have nothing to +interfere with the view, which was really a very lovely one--right over +the old Forest of Evold, to where the river Rother flows quietly along +at the foot of the Rothering Hills. But children don't care much for +views--it's since I've got big that I've learnt to like the view--we +were much more interested to follow Mrs. Munt into the house, across the +low square hall into a short wide passage, with a window along one side, +and a flight of steps at one end. A door stood open close to the foot +of the stairs, and Mrs. Munt led the way through it into a bright, +plainly-furnished room, where tea was already set out for us. + +"I might have got it ready in the dining-room this first evening," she +said, "but I thought master would be coming, and that there'd be his +dinner to see to. This is the old play-room--the school-room as used to +be is now a bed-room--and I thought this would be the best for you to +have quite as your own." + +"It will be very nice, I'm sure," said Tib, whom Mrs. Munt looked at as +the eldest. "And there's a door right out into the garden--oh, that will +be nice! won't it, Gussie?" + +"So that we can come out and in whenever we like. Yes, I'm glad +of that," I said. "Is the garden big, Mrs. Munt? I hope it is, +because--because we've no chance of being allowed to play in any other," +I was going to say, but I stopped, and I felt myself grow a little red. +I wondered if Mrs. Munt knew why grandpapa was so strict about our not +making any friends; and I fancied she looked at me curiously as she +replied-- + +"Yes, Miss Gustava; it's a good big garden, and it's nice to play in, +for there's a deal of rather wild shrubbery--down at the back. Our +young ladies and gentlemen long ago used to say there was nowhere like +Rosebuds for hide-and-seek." + +"Who were your young ladies and gentlemen?" I asked quietly. "Papa had +no brothers and sisters, I know." + +"Ah! but I was here long before your dear papa's time, Miss Gustava," +said Mrs. Munt. "I was here when your grandpapa was a boy. I'm five +years older nor master." + +"And had _grandpapa_ brothers and sisters, then?" I asked again. + +Mrs. Munt grew a little uneasy. + +"You must have heard of your uncle, the Colonel, who was killed in +India," she said. "And there was Miss Mary, who died when she was only +fifteen. You must have seen her grave at Ansdell Friars." + +I shook my head. + +"No, I don't think so. But I do remember the tablet in the church to +Colonel Baldwin Ansdell. I often wondered who he was. You remember it, +Tib? But hadn't grandpapa any other sisters? You said young _ladies_, +Mrs. Munt." + +I had forgotten all my shyness now in curiosity. But it was not fated to +be satisfied just then. Nurse suddenly interrupted. + +"Miss Gussie, dear, you must wait a while to hear all these things from +Mrs. Munt. The tea's all ready, and I'm sure you're all hungry. Just run +up stairs with Miss Tib to take off your hats, there's a dear. Will you +show us the rooms, Mrs. Munt, please?" + +So we were all trotted off again--up stairs this time, though it +scarcely seemed like going up stairs at all, so broad and shallow were +the steps compared with the high-up flights in our London house. And Tib +and I were so pleased with the room which Mrs. Munt told us was to be +ours, that we should have forgotten all about the talk down stairs if +she hadn't made another remark, which put my unanswered question into my +head again. + +"Yes, it is a nice room," she said, looking round with pleasure at +the light-painted furniture and the two white beds side by side, the +old-fashioned cupboards in the wall, two of them with glass doors, +letting us see a few queer old china cups and teapots inside; "_and_ +so little changed, even to its name. We've always called it the young +ladies' room." + +There it was again--the young _ladies_; but nurse was listening +and evidently fussing to get us down to tea. I must trust to +cross-questioning Mrs. Munt some other time. + +And the tea was really enough to take up all our attention. There was +everything of country things--fresh eggs, and butter and milk of the +best, and bread, and tea-cakes, and strawberry jam, and potted fish--all +"home-made," of course. I think Mrs. Munt and nurse were really a little +frightened to see how much we ate. + +After tea we wanted, of course, to go out, but Liddy decided that it was +too damp, and Mrs. Munt consoled us by giving us leave to go all over +the house, for it was barely six o'clock and quite light. She took us +into the front hall and showed us the dining-room, out of which opened +the study, and beyond that again, what had been the school-room, and +was now grandpapa's bed-room. There was nothing _very_ interesting in +these rooms, though they were all quaint and old-fashioned; and through +all the house there was the sort of clean, fresh, and yet _not new_ +feeling--a mixture of faint old scents that cannot be got away, and +wood-fires long ago burnt out, and yet the sweet, pure country air +preventing their being musty or stale--that you never notice except in +an old country house that has been carefully kept, and yet not really +lived in for many years. + +And then Mrs. Munt, taking us through the hall again, showed us the door +of the drawing-room, and told us we might look at it by ourselves, which +we were pleased at. + +It was _much_ more interesting, for, though a small room, it was filled +with pictures and curiosities. The pictures were mostly miniatures--such +queer things some of them were; gentlemen in uniform and the funniest +fancy dresses, some with wigs down to their waists, some of them with +helmets to make them like Roman soldiers. And ladies to match--some +looking dreadfully proud, with towers of hair on the top of their +heads, and some simpering in a silly way. One of these last was +really rather like Tib when she smiles in what I call her "company" +manner--though it's hardly fair to say that now, as she has really left +it off--and she was very angry at my saying so, and told me that the +most stuck-up-looking one of all was very like _me_; "and it's better +to look silly than to be so horribly proud," she added. We were really +rather near quarrelling, which would have been a bad beginning for our +life at Rosebuds, when we caught sight of an old cabinet in one corner, +of which the top half stood open, showing rows and rows of little +drawers, and here and there queer shaped doors opening into inside +places, where there were more drawers and shelves. It was a Japanese +cabinet, of course--a very old and valuable one. I have never seen one +so large and curious, and it quite absorbed our attention till nurse +came tapping at the door--I don't know why she tapped; I suppose she had +an idea that, as we were in the drawing-room, she must--to tell us it +was time, and more than time, to go to bed. + +And though I wanted to talk to Tib in bed about the queerness of there +having been young _ladies_ long ago in this very room, and that Mrs. +Munt evidently didn't want to tell us about them, I was so sleepy, and +so was Tib, that our conversation got no further than, "Tib, don't you +think----" and a very indistinct murmur of "Yes, Gussie, of course I +do," before we were both fast asleep and---- + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE DOOR IN THE GARDEN WALL. + + "Deep in a garden, rank and green, + It were scarce older now than then, + For all the seasons gone between." + C. C. FRASER TYTLER. + + +The next thing we knew it was to-morrow morning--our first morning at +Rosebuds! + +I have told already about this first morning--how beautiful it was to +wake to all the fresh sweet country sounds and feelings. I have felt +this several times since then in my life, but never quite so newly and +strongly as that morning, and every time since then that I have felt it, +that day has come back to my mind. + +It was very fine and bright, and immediately after breakfast we got +leave to go out into the garden. + +"Not outside, of course," said nurse, anxiously. "When you want to go +a walk I will go with you--I or Fanny. Mrs. Munt will tell us all the +nicest walks." + +"We shall never want to go walks here, I am sure," said Tib. "The +garden is much nicer, and we can find lots of things to amuse us in +it. Besides, nursey, you know you don't care about walks with your +rheumatics, and Fanny is sure to say she hasn't time, as she has to +be housemaid too here." + +"It's much best to let us play in the garden always," I said. "I'm sure +grandpapa would like it best." + +"Any way, till the new Miss Evans comes," said Gerald. + +But Tib and I turned on him. + +"Oh, you horrid little boy!" we said; "what is the use of spoiling our +nice first day by speaking of anything so dreadful?" + +"I don't believe there ever could be anybody at all like Miss +Evans--that's one comfort, any way," I added. But Gerald looked rather +grumpy: he couldn't bear being called a "little boy"--he wouldn't have +minded being called "horrid" if we hadn't put in the "little." + +All grumpiness, however, was forgotten when we found ourselves out of +doors, and free to do as we chose. This first day, of course, the great +thing to do was to explore, and that we did pretty thoroughly. The lawn +in front was a beautiful place for running races on, or for "Miller's +ground," or games like that--and the walk all round it was interesting +because Mrs. Munt told us that twelve times round it, made a mile. + +"We might have walking matches," said Tib, consideringly. "It wouldn't +be very amusing; but still, if we got tired of everything else, it would +be worth remembering;" and then we proceeded to inspect the rest of our +domain. + +_The_ place of places was the tangle, or shrubbery, as Mrs. Munt had +called it, away down at the back. It was quite a large place, and you +could not distinguish easily where it ended, for the wall which edged it +was so old, and so covered with ivy and other creepers run wild, that +till you actually felt it you couldn't have told it was there. Here and +there in the tangle there were little clearings, as it were, carefully +enough kept--indeed, the gardeners did clear out the tangle itself once +or twice a year, only it was meant to be wild--where you were sure to +find a bench, or a rustic seat, and in one place there was even a +summer-house, though a rather unhappy looking one. + +"I don't suppose," said Tib, when we came upon this arbour, "I don't +suppose any one's been here since those children--grandpapa and the +brothers and sisters who are dead, or that we can't hear about--played +here, ever, ever so long ago. Papa hadn't any brothers or sisters, and +he wasn't much here--nurse knows that much. It looks like as if it had +never been touched since then--doesn't it? _Isn't_ it queer to think +of?" and Tib sat down on one of the shady seats, still feebly holding +together, and looked very serious. "Isn't it queer?" she repeated. + +"It would be a nice place for a robber's castle," said Gerald, who had +mounted up beside Tib, and was peeping out at a little slit in the +side which had been meant to let light in by, in the days when the +summer-house had a door that would shut. "See here, this hole would just +do for an archer to shoot through when he saw the--the others you know," +he went on, getting rather muddled, "marching up the hill--we could +fancy it was a hill." + +"Nonsense, Gerald!" I said. "You're mixing up robbers' dens and feudal +castles. You're too little to plan plays. All you can do is to be what +Tib and I fix for you in our plans." + +Gerald was very indignant. He muttered something about "just like +girls," but he dared not say it loud out; we kept him in far too good +order for that. Tib and I went on talking without noticing him, and he +sat down in a corner, and amused himself by poking about among the dry +fir needles that lay like a sort of sand on the floor, for the arbour +was made of fir branches and cones. I remembered afterwards hearing him +give a sort of little squeak, and say, "Hi! I declare!" or something +like that, but at the time I paid no attention, and he stayed quite +quiet in his corner. + +His words, though I snubbed him so, had reminded Tib of her plans, and +we went on talking about them for some time. She was all for a regular +romance--there was to be a beautiful lady shut up by a cruel baron, who +wanted to get all her money by forcing her to marry his hump-backed son +(I am afraid that among the old children's books, one or two not quite +children's books had got in; I remember one, called "The Imprisoned +Heiress," which we read a chapter or two of, and then it got stupid), +and she was to escape by "scaling the fortress wall," which meant, we +had a hazy idea, stripping it down stone by stone, as if it were a fish +with scales. We decided that the summer-house would do very well for the +lonely tower, and we sallied forth at last, all three of us, to inspect +the wall and choose a good place for the imaginary escape. But time had +fled faster than we fancied; we had only gone a few steps, when we heard +Fanny's voice in the distance. + +"Miss Tib, Miss Gussie, Master Gerald! Master Gerald, Miss Gussie, +Miss Tib! oh, dear, dear, wherever can they be? Your dinner's +ready--din--ner! din--ner!" she went on at last, as if she thought +the word "dinner" would be the best bait to catch us by. + +We were rather hungry again already. We all set up a shout, and set +off in a scamper to where Fanny stood, the image of despair, at the +beginning of the tangle, which she dared not enter in her thin London +slippers, as the moss-grown paths looked damp and dirty. + +That afternoon, to our vexation, was showery--it was not so hopelessly +rainy as to prevent our going out at all, but nurse told us we must stay +in the front, on the short-cropped lawn and the dry gravel paths. + +So it was not till the next day that we returned to the old summer-house +and the tangle. We had, in the meantime, talked over the plan of the +play, and got it more into shape. You will see that it had nothing to do +with the "mystery," as Tib and I still called it to ourselves. We had +decided to wait a little before playing at _it_. I did not care for +Gerald to hear about it, for fear he should chatter to nurse, and I +also wanted to see if there really was anything else to find out. There +was no knowing but what in time Mrs. Munt would tell us more about the +family history, and though Tib was rather reluctant to give up making a +story of it, I persuaded her that so far we really knew too little. + +We began cleaning out the summer-house, for I wanted to make it +habitable for the unfortunate heroine. + +"You see," said I, "it would be more natural for the cruel baron to +persuade her that he was bringing her here for safety, as he had heard +his castle was going to be attacked by some enemy; so he makes it pretty +comfortable for her. And then, when she's been living here alone for +some time, and she must be finding it very dull, he sends the horrid +little hump-back, who pretends to be against his father, and tells her +she is going to be kept there unless she'll marry him, and that he is +dreadfully sorry for her, and----" + +"I don't see why he need pretend to be against his father," said Tib; +"he might just say straight off that she must marry him or else she'll +never get out. But I think it would be much better to fancy it was a +horrid dungeon. Gerald, I don't think you need trouble to rake up the +cones and leaves into a bed for her. I don't see any sense in pretending +it's comfortable." + +"I do--and it makes it much more of a play," I said. "Any way, we +might make it that way at first, and have her thrown into the dungeon +afterwards, and escape from there." + +Tib did not object to this. But the word "escape" reminded her of the +wall. She proposed that we should examine it, and find the best place. + +We had to scramble in among the bushes before we got to the wall. And +it proved to be a much higher one than we expected. + +"The play will have to be all pretence," said Tib; "we couldn't +possibly get over this, or pull any stones away. It is far too strong." + +We went on, however, a few steps, still at the foot of the wall. +Suddenly Tib gave a little exclamation. + +"Look here, Gussie," she said, and with her hands she pulled back some +branches of ivy--"look here--there's a door in the wall--a very old +door, and not opened for ever so long; for see, the ivy has grown right +across it." + +Gerald and I pushed forward eagerly. Yes, Tib was right. There was a +door in the wall--not a very big one, but very strong, for it did not +rattle or shake at all when we pounded on it. It was locked, firmly +locked we soon found out, when we had torn away as much of the ivy as +we could. The lock was a great big one, clumsy, but very strong, and so +rusty that, even without the testimony of the ivy, it would have been +clear that no one had passed through that doorway for a great number of +years. + +We all three stood and looked at each other. + +"Another mystery," was what Tib and I were thinking, though we did not +say it aloud. + +But Gerald looked rather "funny;" his round rosy cheeks were rosier than +usual, and there was a queer sparkle in his eyes as he said-- + +"_Wouldn't_ you like to open it? _Wouldn't_ it be nice if one could find +the key?" and he jumped about and turned--or tried to turn--head over +heels: there wasn't much room in among the bushes, and he kept saying, +"Wouldn't it be nice if somebody could find a key to fit it? But little +boys are too little and silly to know anything, aren't they? They're +not like big young ladies." + +And though Tib got hold of him, and we both _shook_ him we were so +provoked, that was all he would say. So we settled that he was just in +one of his teasing humours; he didn't have them very often, it is true. + +So the only use to make of the door in the wall was another pretence. +We settled that it should be the entrance to the dungeon; it didn't do +badly for that, as two or three steps, looking very black and slimy, led +down to it. And we fixed that, instead of "scaling the wall," the lady +should escape by hiding in the wood till the prince who was to be her +rescuer passed that way. Gerald had to be the prince, in turns with the +horrid little hump-back, for I had to be the baron, and also a lady +attendant on the heiress, and Tib, of course, was the heiress. We +didn't much like having Gerald after the tiresome way he had been going +on, but there was no help for it. + +And the next two or three days passed very happily. There was +still a great deal to see and inspect about Rosebuds; the house +itself--especially the drawing-room, with its treasures, which Mrs. Munt +showed us, and sometimes, when she found that we were careful children, +allowed us to examine for ourselves; the stables, where lived the old +pony who was still able to draw the still older pony-carriage, or +"shay"--as the farm-man called it--as far as the little town, where Mrs. +Munt liked to go once a month, and to bring home her purchases herself +instead of trusting them to the railway. Then there were the dairy and +poultry-yard, her great pride, though she was rather mortified to hear +that we had never known that the butter and fresh eggs we ate in London +were sent up from Rosebuds every week. + +"Why, we never even heard of Rosebuds till a few days before we came +here," I told her. + +Her face grew sad at this, and I was sorry I had said it. + +"Grandpapa is very _funny_," I went on, thinking, perhaps, we might get +round to the subject of the "young ladies" and the scored-out name, +which we couldn't help connecting together; "he never tells us anything. +I don't believe he'd have ever told us we'd had a papa and mamma if +nurse hadn't been our mamma's nurse, and so could tell us all about +her." + +"Your grandpapa's had a deal of trouble, my dears," said Mrs. Munt. "And +there's some as trouble softens and makes more loving to all about them +and some as it hardens, or seems to harden, leastways to shut them up +in themselves. And I think it's no harm of me to tell you, now I see +what sensible children you are, that it's been that way with your +grandpapa. It's not really hardened him, for you know he has not got +selfish or unmindful of others. He is very good to you?" and poor Mrs. +Munt made the question anxiously, as if half afraid of what we might +answer. + +"Nurse says he's very good to us," said Tib, slowly. "He gives us +everything we have." + +"But it isn't our fault that we are his grandchildren," I said, rather +bitterly. "We didn't ask to be it. And he has plenty of money--what +could he do with it if he hadn't us?" + +"Gussie," said Tib, reproachfully. But old Mrs. Munt only looked +distressed, not vexed. + +"He does love you, my dears: I feel sure of it," she said. "Only he's +got out of the way of showing it--that's what's wrong. If you had your +grandmamma now, or----" and then she stopped. "A lady--a woman in the +family makes all so different. But try, my lovies, to believe that he +does love you. It is true, as Miss Gussie says--for I'd never be one to +say to children what their own sense feels is nonsense--that it would +be very wrong of your grandpapa _not_ to give you all you should have. +You're his own flesh and blood, for sure. Still, he might have done it +in a different way--he might have sent you to some sort of school, or +to some lady who'd have taken care of you all, and him have no trouble +about it. No one would have thought it unnatural if he'd done that way, +instead of taking up house again in London, when he'd got quite out of +the way of it, and settling all so that he should have you always near +him." + +We both looked surprised. + +"Did he do that?" we said. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Munt, "he did indeed; and much more that he didn't, so +to speak, _need_ to have done--without, all the same, having fallen +short of his duty." + +"I wish he would tell us things like that," I said. "How are we to +know?" + +"No," said Tib, "not quite that. I think it seems more for his _not_ +telling. But I wish--I wish he'd let us feel that he loves us, and then +we would, indeed we would, love him;" and some tears slowly made their +way into Tib's blue eyes. + +"Well, well, dears, that's the right way to feel, any way. And maybe +things will change somehow. It's wonderful how things come round when +people really mean right. So keep up heart, and don't be afraid of +letting master see that you want to please him, and to love him too." + +This talk with the old housekeeper made a great impression on us--so +great that it almost put the mystery out of our heads altogether. For a +great deal seemed explained by the thought of grandpapa's old troubles, +and what these had been in time past we knew quite well. He had lost so +many dear to him. Grandmamma, to begin with, had died quite young; then +there was the brother Baldwin, killed in India, and the sister Mary, +buried at Ansdell Friars. That was sad enough--and then his only son to +have died too, leaving us three helpless babies. + +"I dare say he'd just as soon have been without us, and have had nobody +at all belonging to him," I said to Tib. "It must have been a great +nuisance to have us stupid little things sent home, and not even poor +mamma to take care of us. Do you remember, Tib, how we used to cry and +run back to nurse when he sent for us down to the library to see him? We +thought him a sort of an ogre." + +A few days after this talk with Mrs. Munt, grandpapa came down to +Rosebuds from a Saturday to a Monday. We weren't exactly glad to see +him, but what the old housekeeper had said was fresh in our minds, +and we were all anxious to do our best to please him. So we made no +objection when nurse called us a full hour before he could possibly +arrive, "to be made neat against your dear grandpapa comes." Poor old +Liddy--she would have thought it her duty to call him our dear grandpapa +even if he _had_ been an ogre, I do believe! + +And we had worked ourselves up to being so extra good, that we did not +even grumble at the long time we had to sit still doing nothing on the +window-seat in the hall, watching, or listening rather, for the first +rumble of the carriage wheels as the signal for all running out into the +porch to meet him. That part of it was a "plan" of Tib's--everything +with her was sure to run into "plans," and with this new idea of +pleasing grandpapa, she was constantly casting about in her head what we +could do. + +"I think seeing us standing together in the porch will touch him, you +see, Gussie," she said. "It is a little like some scene I've read of in +a story-book--the orphans, you know--oh, _where_ was it?--and the stern +guardian, and it quite melts him, and----" + +"He begins to cry, I suppose," I said, rather contemptuously, I fear; "I +must say I'd be a good deal astonished to see _grandpapa_ begin to cry +over us, wouldn't you, Gerald?" + +But the idea was quite beyond Gerald's imagination. + +"I do wish one thing," he said solemnly. + +"What?" asked Tib and I eagerly. When Gerald had an idea, it was rather +startling. + +"If he--grandpapa, you know--really wished to please us--he might be +thinking of us on the journey, you know--wouldn't it be beautiful if he +was to bring us each a packet of that splendid butter-scotch that there +was at the station in London? I looked at it while we were waiting. I +really _could_ love him if he did." + +"You greedy little pig!" said Tib. + +It wasn't often Tib condescended to use such expressions, but no doubt +Gerald's butter-scotch seemed rather a come-down from her romantic +ideas. I was sorry for her, but I _couldn't_ help laughing at the look +of disgust in her face, and at Gerald's face of astonishment. He +muttered something I couldn't hear--of course there was something about +"girls," and "sha'n't get it out of me," which I didn't understand. But +Tib's indignation next fell upon me. + +"How can you laugh at him--such low ideas," she said, reproachfully, to +which I answered rather crossly. Indeed, we were all on the verge of a +quarrel when at last the sound of wheels turning in at the gate was +heard, and up we all jumped. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +WHAT GERALD FOUND. + + "Give a little love to a child, and you get a great deal + back."--RUSKIN. + + +It was very funny, after all poor Tib's great preparations, when she +really saw grandpapa that she seemed as if she could say nothing. I had +already run forward, and quite without thinking of pleasing him, or of +anything except that I was awfully glad he was there, because I _was_ so +tired of sitting still and squabbling, I called out quite loudly-- + +"Oh, grandpapa, I _am_ so glad you've come!" + +He was just getting down from the dog-cart--he had had it and a horse +and groom sent down to Rosebuds to be ready for taking him to and from +the station; the old one-horse fly wouldn't have suited grandpapa, I can +assure you!--and when he heard me he turned round with quite a nice, not +the least "making-fun-of-you," smile on his face. I don't think I had +ever before seen his face look so nice. "Are you really glad I have +come, Gussie? I'm sure I feel very flattered." + +I felt both pleased and vexed. I did so wish I could have let him go on +thinking I meant it that way, and I felt myself getting very red as I +blurted out-- + +"Yes, grandpapa, I am--we are all glad you've come. But I meant, +perhaps, partly that we've been dressed and waiting for you _such_ a +time, and we were all getting rather cross." + +A slight look of disappointment--it was really disappointment, and it +made me feel still more sorry--crossed grandpapa's face at my words. +Then he smiled again, but this time I was sorry to see there _was_ a +little of the old smile in it. + +"You are candid, at least, my dear granddaughter. Ah, well! we must take +the goods the gods send us, and not expect impossibilities, I suppose! +And that any one should be glad to see _me_, in the ordinary acceptation +of the words, comes within that category, naturally." + +He used such long words, he puzzled me. (I must tell you that I have +been helped here and there to write things that grandpapa said by some +one who knows quite well his sort of way, otherwise I couldn't have got +it quite right, though I remember it all in my own way.) I looked up and +said, "Grandpapa, I don't understand you." + +Then his face grew nicer again, and he stooped down to kiss us in his +usual way, saying to me as he did so, "Never mind; such understanding +comes soon enough." + +And Tib, who, I suppose, had been gathering courage all this time, then +looked up, and said very prettily--Tib _is_ very pretty, you know, and +that makes what she says pretty too, I think-- + +"Grandpapa, perhaps we could understand some things--nice things--better +than you think. We do understand that you're very good to us--it was +very good of you to let us come here. We are so happy!" + +Grandpapa put his hand under Tib's chin, and raised her face so that he +could see straight into her blue eyes. + +"Has any one been putting that into your head, Mercedes?" he said, +almost sternly. "The truth, now, child--for Heaven's sake let me see if +you are true! _Can_ she be with those eyes--those very same eyes?" he +added to himself, so low that no one but I--for I have dreadfully quick +ears--heard it. Tib didn't; she told me so afterwards, but that was +perhaps because she was thinking so what she should answer. But she +looked up fearlessly, and she didn't get red. + +"Mrs. Munt has been speaking to us very nicely, grandpapa," she said. +"But she didn't tell me to say anything to you--oh no, grandpapa. All +she did was to make us think perhaps better than we have ever done +before how very good you are to us;" and then, with the last words +Tib's courage began to go away, and the tears came welling up into her +eyes. + +Grandpapa looked at her still for a minute, and then he said quietly-- + +"What I do is no more than you have a right to. Still, at your age the +less thought about rights--and wrongs too--the better, no doubt. And so +you are happy here?" + +"Very," we all replied, heartily. And then Gerald--oh, that tiresome +boy!--must needs add-- + +"And it is _so_ nice without Miss Evans!" + +Grandpapa laughed at this, really laughed; but Tib and I could have +pinched Gerald. For, alas! grandpapa added-- + +"That's right--not to have let me forget about finding a new Miss +Evans;" and if he saw--which I don't know--Tib's and my faces when he +said that, he must have been satisfied that we could _look_ what we felt +very candidly. + +Grandpapa only stayed two days; but his visit was really much nicer than +we had fancied it would be. He took us to church on Sunday himself. But, +rather to our disappointment, not to the pretty old church we had passed +on first entering the village, but to one at least three miles off, +which was not at all pretty nor interesting. There was nobody at all +there except very stupid-looking, poor country people, and the sermon +was very long, and the clergyman very dull and stupid himself. To be +sure, the driving there and back in the dog-cart a _little_ made up for +it; but still, we were very vexed when grandpapa said we were to come to +this church every Sunday, if it was fine, in the dog-cart, Tib in front +beside Reeves the groom, and me behind with nurse, and Gerald stuck in +beside Tib; and if it was rainy, in the old fly from the inn in the +village. + +We heard grandpapa giving these orders to Reeves on the way home. + +"Oh, grandpapa!" I said--I was sitting on the back seat, so I felt more +courageous, I suppose--"must we go every Sunday to that stupid little +church? I'm sure the one in the village is much nicer." + +"Have you been there?" said grandpapa, very sharply. + +"No, grandpapa," I replied; "we've not been anywhere at all in the +village. But we saw the church the day we came." + +"Then you cannot possibly know anything about it; and if you were even +capable of having an opinion, it would not make the slightest difference +to mine," he said, in his very horridest cold way. + +But he got nicer again after a bit. He even took us a little walk with +him in the afternoon, round a very pretty way, going away down the lane +into which the gate of Rosebuds opens, and into some woods and copsey +sort of places that were awfully nice. Grandpapa was very quiet, and +didn't speak much; but he wasn't sharp or catching up. Once or twice he +stood still, and looked about him with an expression on his face I had +never seen there before, and he said to us-- + +"I remember these woods--every tree in them, I believe--as long as I +remember myself;" and then he gave a little sigh. + +"Do you really, grandpapa?" we said. "Won't you tell us a little about +when you were a little boy?" + +"Can you remember so long ago? Was it as much as a hundred years ago?" +asked Gerald, opening his mouth very wide. + +"Not quite so long--but too long ago to tell you stories about," he +replied, and then he walked on without speaking. + +Grandpapa had taken us an in-and-out sort of way--we hadn't exactly +noticed where we were going, and we were surprised to find ourselves +suddenly quite near home again. We had come up another lane, on the +other side of Rosebuds, as it were; this lane was skirted by a high +stone wall, a wall that looked something like the one that bordered +our "tangle." + +"Is inside there our garden, then?" asked Tib, for grandpapa had just +said to us we were close to home. + +"No," said grandpapa, but without looking in the direction she pointed, +"that is not the Rosebuds' garden yet." + +"Then what's behind there, please?" said Gerald, in his slow way. I +didn't expect grandpapa to take the trouble of answering him, but he +did. + +"There is another garden behind there," he replied, "the garden +of another house, that is to say. But it is a house that has been +uninhabited for a great number of years--the garden must be a perfect +wilderness by now--the place is going to be sold immediately, and the +house pulled down most likely, or else turned into a mere farmhouse--the +owner of the farm over there," and he pointed over our heads, "wants to +buy it. So much the better." + +There was a sort of dreaminess in the way grandpapa spoke, as if his +thoughts were looking back somehow far beyond his words. + +"May we play in that garden if there's nobody there?" asked Gerald. + +"Why should you want to play there?" said grandpapa. "It does not belong +to me." + +"And I'm sure we couldn't have a nicer garden than our own, and it's +very big too," said I. + +"We may go anywhere we like in _our_ garden, mayn't we?" said Gerald. + +"Yes," said grandpapa. + +"And if we _could_ get through the door in the wall, we might, mightn't +we?" Gerald continued in his slow, drawly way. He speaks better now, but +then he had a way of going on once he began, all in the same tone so +that you really hardly noticed that he was talking. I have thought since +that grandpapa didn't in the least know what he was consenting to, when +for the second time he replied "yes." + +Gerald would have gone on, no doubt, but Tib interrupted him. + +"Does that door lead into a tool-house, grandpapa?" she said. Her voice +was soft and gentle. It was only I that had a quick, sharp way of +speaking. + +"A tool-house?" repeated grandpapa, "oh, yes, I fancy so." He must have +thought that Tib was asking him if there was a tool-house in the garden. + +"Oh," she said in a rather disappointed tone. There wasn't much mystery +about a tool-house! + +Just then the lane stopped, and we came out on a path bordered by a +field on one side, and on the other by a wall which _was_ that of our +own garden. Very near the foot-path in the field lay two or three ponds +or pools of water close together, and on one of them floated some large +leaves looking like water-lily leaves, with some bushy high-growing +green among them. Tib darted forward. + +"Oh, look, Gussie," she said, "there'll be the most lovely water +forget-me-nots here in the summer, and--" But she stopped short in a +fright, for grandpapa had caught her by the arm and was pulling her +back. + +"Child, take care," he said sharply, "another minute, and you would have +been in the water. The edge is as slippery as glass. If the field were +mine, I would soon have these pits filled in," he went on, looking round +as if he wished there were some one at hand to give the order to on the +spot. + +"But they are such little pools, grandpapa, they don't take up much +room," I objected, "and if there were water-lilies, and forget-me-nots +there in the summer, it would be a dreadful pity to take them away." + +"And when the lilies and forget-me-nots come out, what is more likely +than that you or Mercedes should be stretching over to get them and fall +in," said grandpapa. + +"But if we did it wouldn't hurt us," said I. "If Tib fell in, I would +pull her out, and if I fell in, she would pull me out." + +"And if both Tib and Gussie fell in I would pull them both out," said +Gerald, feeling, I suppose, that he had been left rather out in the +cold. + +Grandpapa, who had been poking at the back of the pit with his stick, +turned sharp round upon us. "Children," he said, "listen to me. If one +of you, or two of you, or all of you fell into one of those ponds, you +would be drowned--as certainly as that I am standing here, you would be +drowned. They are very, _very_ deep--there would be no chance of saving +you, far less than in a larger piece of water, even if it were as deep. +I cannot have the pits filled up nor railed round, for the place does +not belong to me, and I cannot ask anything of the person it does belong +to. All I can do is to make you promise--to make you give your word of +honour, if you know what that means--that you will never come here +alone, and never try to reach flowers; if you come this way with nurse, +you must pass by as quickly as possible. Now, do you hear? Do you quite +understand? Have I your promise?" + +We all stood still, looking and feeling rather frightened. + +"Do you promise?" repeated grandpapa. + +"Yes, grandpapa," we all said together, "we do promise." + +"That's right," he said, and then we all walked on in silence. +Grandpapa's earnestness had impressed us. I think the same thought was +in all our minds: "He must love us, after all, or he would not be so +afraid of our being drowned." I don't think we had ever felt ourselves +of so much consequence before. + +"Was ever anybody drowned in those pools, please, grandpapa?" I ventured +to ask. + +"Not that I know of," he said; "but two or three cows have been drowned +there. The place is exceedingly dangerous--it is a shame to leave it so. +I shall speak to Farmer Blake about it when he comes into possession." + +Then we went in to tea, and early the next morning grandpapa went back +to London. + +But oh! I am forgetting--before he went he told us another thing. Our +holidays were over already. He had found us another Miss Evans! No; I +am joking. It was not quite so bad as that. He _couldn't_ find another +Miss Evans, so he had had to make another plan. We were to have a tutor +instead of a governess; and I don't think we were sorry to hear it. +The tutor was a young man living in the town, two stations from _our_ +station, and he was to come every morning, except Saturday, for two +hours. That wasn't so bad, was it? He wasn't to come before half-past +ten, so we could have an hour and a half's play in our dear garden +before he came, and all the afternoons to ourselves; for we were quite +sure we could do all the preparing of our lessons in the evening, and +grandpapa had always been very sensible about not wanting us to have too +many lessons to do. + +It turned out very well. Mr. Markham began to come that very week, but +he was really very nice, and he didn't give us too much to do, though +what he did give was pretty hard, for he would have it done very well. +Only when we did try he was pleased, and told us so. But of course we +did not see very much of him, as he was very busy at his home, and he +had to leave as soon as ever lessons were over, to get back in time. + +We went on with our fancy play in the tangle. In the mornings it was +hardly worth while beginning it, for if you have ever played at that +sort of game you will know that it needs a comfortable feeling of plenty +of time before you can get into it properly. We should have liked to +dress up a little for it, but nurse wouldn't let us do so till the +weather was warmer, and we were obliged to promise her never to take off +our hats and jackets in the garden for fear of catching cold. We were +more in danger of "catching hot," Gerald told her, for we really worked +pretty hard, particularly at getting the summer-house into order. We got +some nails and a hammer from Mrs. Munt, and hammered the broken seats +together again; we fastened on the door rather cleverly by making hinges +of an old leather belt of Gerald's, and we put up one or two shelves on +the walls, as we called them, on which the princess, or heiress--we +called her sometimes one, and sometimes the other--could keep her +tea-cups and saucers in her tower. These tea-cups and saucers were the +remains of an old toy set, which Mrs. Munt had found and given us to +play with--no doubt, Tib and I said to each other, the "young ladies" +had played with them long ago! + +Then we "carted" heaps of dry leaves from one corner, where they were +really dry and not sodden, to make a bed for her. This carting was an +uncertain sort of business, for we had to be content with Gerald's +wheelbarrow, which was painfully low and little, except when we could +get hold of the gardener's standing about. And _his_ was, on the +contrary, disagreeably heavy and big. But at last, one fine afternoon +we came to an end of our labours, and stood surveying them with +considerable satisfaction. + +"It really looks quite nice and comfortable," Tib said. "I really think +to-morrow the baron may carry her off to the tower--he's to pretend, you +know, to be only taking her out a walk in her litter." + +"A _walk_ in a litter," I said; "why, a litter's a lying-down-in thing, +and we haven't got anything the least like one." + +"Well, then, a walk on her feet," said Tib, testily; "that did very well +the other day," for you must understand that we had acted it all several +times, and then we found what was wanting in the way of scenery, &c. + +"If only we had the dungeon," she went on. "It's a very poor pretence to +call those steps the dungeon--besides, they're horribly damp and dirty." + +"Oh, for that part of it, all the better," I said. "Dungeons always are +damp and dirty." + +"But my frock?" said Tib, ruefully. "I _can't_ sit down on those steps +without getting it horribly spoilt. If we could but get into the +tool-house!" + +Gerald, who was standing beside us--we were close to the door in the +wall--gave a sudden exclamation and darted off. Tib and I looked at each +other in surprise. "What's the matter with him?" we said. But he was +back again in a moment, holding something in his hand. As he came near +us he put both his hands behind his back. + +"I've got something," he said. "I'd forgot about it. It was the day you +teased me I found it. And I hid it, and I was afraid it was lost among +the leaves, and all that, but it wasn't. I'd hidden it safe. Guess what +it is." + +We tried, but we couldn't. Gerald raised his hand slowly. "Shut your +eyes," he said; and we shut them. "Now open them;" we opened them. "What +is it?" we said, breathlessly. + +"The key of the door!" he said, solemnly. + +"The key of the tool-house!" exclaimed Tib. "How do you know it is it? +Where did you find it?" + +"I found it among the prickly things on the floor of the summer-house," +he replied. "It's quite dry and clean, see!" and so it was, as if it had +been packed in sawdust. + +"But how do you know what key it is?" we asked. + +"I tried it--I stayed behind a minute that day; you didn't notice. It is +the key. It fits _pairfittly_," said Gerald. "Only it's very stiff, and +my hands wasn't quite strong enough. If we all try, perhaps." + +He put the key into the lock. Yes, it was evident it _was_ the key, lost +for who knows how many years. How queer that no one had ever had another +made; there was another tool-house, and one was enough, perhaps. But +still, it did seem queer. First Tib, then I, tried to turn it, but it +was no use. + +"If we put a stick through the end of the key, we might turn it that +way." + +"But it might break it; don't you remember we broke the nursery door key +in London by trying to turn it with a tooth-brush handle?" I said. "It +wants oiling, Tib--that's it; not the key, perhaps, but the lock. We +must wait till to-morrow, and get some oil in one of the doll's cups, +and a feather, and then I'm sure it'll do. But what a bother to have to +wait till to-morrow!" + +There was no help for it, however. Wait till to-morrow we must. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +OPEN, SESAME. + + "I know thee not; but well my heart + Interprets, darling, what thou art; + Light of some old ancestral hall, + Queen-gem of some proud coronal! + For, certes, such a perfect grace, + Such lustrous loveliness of face, + Such artless majesty as thine + Proclaims thee of no sordid line!" + _The Unknown Portrait_--SIR NOEL PATON. + + +There was time the next morning, before Mr. Markham came, for coaxing +a little oil out of Mrs. Munt, and fetching a feather from the +poultry-yard, but for no more. For Mrs. Munt, kind as she was, very +naturally objected to giving us the oil in one of the best tea-cups, +which Gerald had brought for the purpose, thinking it must be "an old +one," which it was indeed, though not in his sense of the word. So Tib +ran off to the princess's tower for one of the doll ones, and Gerald and +I went in the other direction for a long feather. And by the time that +we were ready for operations, it was within a quarter of an hour of +lessons, and being rather sensible children in some ways--we had early +learnt experience and responsibility in our own affairs, having no one +to advise or arrange for us in such matters--we decided it was better to +wait till we were sure of plenty of, and uninterrupted, time. + +"You see, if Fanny came shouting for us just as we had got into the +tool-house, she might see it, and it would be no longer a private place +of our own; we must keep it quite for our own," I said. + +"_Certainly_," said Tib. "You know I asked grandpapa about it, and he +didn't seem to mind." + +But lessons that morning did go very slowly. Once or twice Mr. Markham +had to call us to attention, and there was even a slight threat on +his part of "extra work to be done for to-morrow," if the rest of our +preparation should not prove better done. It was not the fault of the +preparation--which had been done as well as usual--it was that our heads +were all agog over the tool-house! But we pulled up after this, and +things ended fairly well. + +And at last--though not till after our dinner, for we were never allowed +more than "a run," and that well within view of the schoolroom window, +between lessons and dinner--we found ourselves again in safety before +the door in the wall--oil-cup and feather in hand. + +We set to work methodically--with the help of nurse's largest scissors +and a skewer--how Gerald had got the skewer I don't know: we raked out +all the little bits of dirt and rubbish that had collected in the +lock; then we oiled it as thoroughly as we knew how, though under the +circumstances this was certainly a process of working in the dark. Then +we carefully inserted the key--it went in to perfection, but we all +looked at each other, and grew hot with excitement when it came to the +moment for trying to turn it. + +Tib as the eldest had the first try--a barren honour; she hurt her hands +over it, but it would not move--not a hair's breadth! Then it came to +me. I have larger hands than Tib, and stronger muscles; I fancy I set +to work in a more business-like manner. With me the key turned--with +groans and grunts, it must be allowed--but still it turned--half-way! +then I too looked blank. Fortunately it did not refuse to turn back +again, and then I took it out and looked at it reproachfully. + +Gerald laid hands on it. It was _his_ turn, but what I had failed in, it +was not likely his little, fat, stumpy paws would achieve. But Gerald is +sharp in some ways. He first examined the key all over. Then he took up +the oily feather again. + +"See here," he said, "some parts of the key are quite oily, but some, +inside, are quite dry. We should have oiled the key as well as the +lock." + +He was right; his small grasp did what ours had failed in. Grunting and +groaning still, but forced to obey, the old key woke from its sleep of +thirty or forty years and did the work it was made for. And in another +minute we had tugged at the door till it moved on its rusty hinges--you +will understand afterwards how they came to be no rustier--slowly +opening and revealed-- + +What did it reveal? For a few minutes we were too dazzled to +tell--really dazzled--as well as amazed. A perfect flood of light seemed +to pour out upon us, and instead of the dingy, musty tool-house we had +been expecting, we found ourselves standing at what at first sight +appeared like the entrance to some fairy palace of brightness and +brilliance. We stood, dazed, rubbing our eyes and looking at each other. +_Was_ it magic? Had we chanced upon some such wonder of old world +times as our little heads were stuffed with? Tib--and Gerald too, +perhaps--would have been ready to believe it. Had the door there and +then shut upon us, leaving us but the remembrance of the vision, they +would have lived upon beautiful fancies for the rest of their lives. +But I--practical I--did not long stand bewildered. A slight creak of the +door brought me back to common-place. + +"Come inside, quick!" I said, pulling at the others--we were all huddled +together on the steps--"shut the door, or else some one will see the +light through the trees," for I have told you how _very_ dark the tangle +is, even on a bright day. "Stay--dare we shut the door? Is there a +keyhole on the inside? Oh, yes; and not rusty at all," and quick as +thought I drew the key out and fitted it in to the other side; it turned +now with ease. "That's right;" and before Tib or Gerald had found out +for certain whether they were awake or dreaming, we were all three safe +inside the enchanted palace, at liberty to look about us and find out +where we really were. + +I feel in a way sorry to explain it. But this is not a fairy story; and +in the end I think you will allow, when you have come to know the whole, +that it _is_ very interesting, perhaps more interesting than a fairy +story after all. So I will go on without leaving you in perplexity any +more. + +The place where we found ourselves was a conservatory: it was prettily +built in a high, round-roofed sort of way, so as to catch all the light +and sun-heat possible. It was, to begin with, a very bright afternoon; +then the shrubbery on our side was _very_ dark; high up in the +conservatory there was a band of coloured glass, rich red, and little +bits of every colour at the edge, like a strip of rainbow, through which +the light came in gleams of all sorts of beautiful tints. You can easily +see how startlingly brilliant it had seemed to us; and besides this, the +conservatory itself was not at all in a neglected state. There were few +_pots_ of flowers; the shelves were mostly empty; but there were plants +growing in earth borders along the sides, which were evidently cared +for, as they twined up the walls luxuriantly. And the whole place was +heated, though not very much. _That_, you see, was how the door and the +lock remained in such good condition. + +We found out all these particulars for ourselves by degrees; and +gradually we noticed other things. The conservatory had evidently, at +some time or other, been a favourite place to sit in. There was a little +_very_ old and shaky rustic table, and two or three seats to match; +there was a little corner shelf on which still lay two or three old +books. After we had got over our first surprise, we were conscious of +something about the whole place which made the tears come to our eyes. +But our spirits soon rose again. + +"_What_ a bower for the princess!" exclaimed Tib. + +I felt quite out of patience with her. + +"Rubbish!" I said, "I can't think any more of the princess or any +make-up things. This is _far_ more interesting. I want to find out all +about what place it is, and why it is shut up and deserted, as it +evidently is." + +"Perhaps it's been shut up for hundreds of years," suggested Gerald. + +"_That's_ rubbish, if you like," answered Tib. "It doesn't look as if +anybody lived here, but it's not dirty--scarcely even dusty." + +"There must be some other way of getting into it besides our door, +then," I said, "for certainly the _door_ hasn't been opened for a great +many years. If we look about, perhaps we'll find some other entrance." + +At first sight there was no appearance of any, and we began to think the +conservatory must, after all, belong to Rosebuds, and that from time to +time the gardener _did_ open the door and get in to clean it. Only why, +then, was it always locked up? Just as we were feeling quite puzzled, +Gerald called out-- + +"Oh! see here, Tib and Gussie, this is another door--here in the +glass; here's a handle that turns. Why, see, it's a door made of +looking-glass!" + +That was why we had not noticed it. It was cleverly managed to imitate +panes, like the rest of the conservatory, and it was somewhat in the +shade in one corner. There was no lock to this door; it opened at once, +and before us we saw a long, rather narrow, covered passage, lighted +by a skylight roof. It was all growing more and more mysterious; half +frightened, but too eager and curious to think of being afraid, on we +ran. The passage ended in a short flight of steps, at the top of which +was another door, a regular proper door this time, with a handle and a +lock, but no key in the lock. + +"Oh! supposing it's locked," I cried, excitedly; "it will be too bad. We +can't find out any more." + +But it wasn't. The key, as we afterwards found, was inside, and not +turned in the lock. They were evidently not very afraid of robbers. All +the years the house had stood empty, no one had ever broken into it; we +were the first intruders. + +We pressed forward. First we found ourselves in a sort of little +ante-room, very small, hardly bigger than a closet, and out of this, +through another door, opened a very large and handsome drawing-room. It +had a row of windows at one side looking out upon a terrace, and a large +bow window at one end, with closely-drawn blinds--we could not see what +it looked on to; the floor was of beautifully polished wood, inlaid in +a pattern such as you see more often in French houses than in English +ones; the two mantelpieces were very high, and beautifully carved, +and from the centre of the ceiling hung an immense gilt and crystal +chandelier, covered up in muslin. There was not much furniture in the +room, and what there was looked stiff and cold: two or three great +cabinets against the walls, and some gilt consol-tables, and in one +corner a group of sofas, and chairs, and arm-chairs all drawn together, +and all in white linen covers. Everything was handsome, and stately, and +melancholy; the very feeling of the room told you it had not been really +lived in for many a day. + +But the one thing which caught our attention was a life-size portrait +hanging at the end of the room opposite the bow window. It was the only +picture of any kind, and even though we were ignorant children, we +could see in a moment that it was a very beautiful one. It represented +a young girl, richly dressed in the fashion of a hundred years ago or +more, with long-waisted bodice, and skirt of white satin, looped up +over an under-one of rose-coloured brocade. She was standing on a +terrace--this very terrace we afterwards found--her hat hanging on her +arm, and a greyhound beside her. It was all pretty much the same as one +often sees in portraits of that time, but her face was _so_ charming! +And immediately we saw it, both Gerald and I exclaimed-- + +"Oh, Tib, she is exactly like you!" and going close to examine it more +particularly, I saw some letters in one corner, and, to my immense +surprise, they were those of the name scored out in the old book, +"Ornaments Discovered," and of Tib's second name also--"Regina." The +initials of the artist--"L.K.," I think--were there also. + +"It is my name," said Tib, opening her eyes in astonishment; "how very +strange! Can it be the picture of some great-great-grandmother of ours, +I wonder? But this is not grandpapa's house. How could any portrait of +our family be here?" + +We were completely puzzled, but, children-like, we did not think very +much more about it. It was such fun to slide up and down the polished +floor, or to climb over among the shrouded chairs and sofas, and make +ourselves a comfortable nest among them. For it was plain that our +discoveries were not to go further--the large double doors of this +drawing-room were securely locked from the outside. + +We went close up to this door, putting our ears to the keyhole even, +and listened, but not the least sound was to be heard. + +"The house must be shut up," I said. "There is certainly no one moving +about in it." + +"Perhaps it is enchanted," said Gerald, in an awe-struck tone. "Perhaps +that lady is _really_ alive, and the fairies have fastened her up into +that picture till--till--" and he hesitated; his imagination had come to +an end of its flight. + +Tib and I looked at each other without speaking. We did not snub Gerald +as we often did for such speeches--somehow it didn't seem so very +impossible! Everything was so strange; the room itself so unlike +anything we had ever seen, the mysterious way into it, the silence +and desertedness, yet the signs of care; above all, the portrait so +wonderfully like Tib, and actually bearing her name. There was no +explaining it by anything we could think of or imagine. + +"We may as well use it all to make a play of," said Tib, at last, +returning to her favourite idea. "We can pretend that the lady in the +portrait _is_ the princess something, as Gerald says. Yes, it would be +still nicer to make her be enchanted instead of only shut up, and then, +Gussie, you must help me to plan how she's to be got out." + +"But, Tib," I said, "do you think we can come here again? Don't you +think grandpapa would mind, after all he said to us about not making +friends, or going into any houses in the village?" + +"And are we making friends?" said Tib. "Unless the portrait comes out of +its frame some day, and begins talking to us, there's certainly nobody +else to talk to here." + +"Do you think there's nobody living in the house?" I said, doubtfully. + +"I'm sure there's not. Most likely some one comes to dust it every now +and then." + +"And don't you remember," said Gerald, "that last Sunday I asked +grandpapa if we might come through the door in the wall if we _could_, +and he said 'yes'? P'r'aps he knew about this place, and didn't mind if +we did come here to play." + +"Perhaps," I said; "anyway we can ask him the next time he comes." + +"We needn't say anything about it to Mrs. Munt, or nurse," said Tib, +decidedly. "As long as we haven't been told _not_ to come, we're not +disobeying, and it's much nicer not to ask any one but grandpapa +himself." + +With that I quite agreed, especially as I felt sure grandpapa himself +would like it better. We knew we were doing no mischief; there was +nobody to speak to, as Tib had said, so we felt quite at ease, and spent +a most agreeable afternoon. When we had examined everything there was in +the big drawing-room, or saloon, as Tib preferred to call it--and that +did not take us very long; there were no curiosities or small ornaments +about, as in the Rosebuds drawing-room--we began to plan again about +our play story. We arranged it most beautifully, and the portrait was +a great help, for it almost gave us another actor, as we could always +pretend it was the princess, when Tib was wanted for another person. +And it was such a wonderfully life-like picture--you could really have +fancied its expression changed as we talked to it. + +But at last we began to get frightened that we should be missed at home +if we stayed any longer. + +"We must go, Gussie," said Tib, "let us all say good-night to the +princess. It is sad to leave you alone here, princess," she went on, +turning to the portrait, and speaking in the tone of one of the ladies +in the play, who were going to help her to escape, "but, alas, there is +no other way to do. If we stayed longer we should only be suspected of +plotting, so we must resign ourselves." + +"And I dare say you're pretty well accustomed to being left alone by +this time. You must be nearly a hundred years old, though you look so +young," said Gerald, as he bowed to her. I could not help laughing, +though Tib was rather vexed. + +"I wish you wouldn't think it clever to turn everything into ridicule, +Gerald," but he looked up with such a surprised face that we saw he +hadn't been in fun at all. + +"There's one thing we'd better do if we want ever to get in here again," +I said. "We must hide the key of the door leading from the passage. I +dare say the person who comes to dust will never notice it's not there. +They can't be in the habit of locking it regularly; but it's as well to +hide it," and so saying, I took the key out of the lock and slipped it +inside a drawer of one of the big cabinets, where it may be lying still, +for all I know (I must look, by the by: writing this all out has +reminded me of several things I had forgotten). + +Then we closed the door carefully and ran down the passage to the +conservatory again, where we found everything just as we had left +it--_our_ key, as we called it, sticking in the lock inside. It was +still rather stiff to turn--and the next morning we oiled it again--but +we managed to unlock it, and then to lock the door again on the outside. + +And Gerald ran off with the key to hide it again in the summer-house; +only we wrapped it up in paper before burying it in the fir dust. + +"Who would have thought," said Tib, as we ran in, "who _could_ have +thought, what we should find this afternoon?" + +But our surprises, as you shall hear, were not yet at an end. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +GRANDPAPA'S SECRETARY. + + ... "Children are the best judges of character at first + sight in the world."--HOGG. + + +Grandpapa did not come down to Rosebuds again for three or four weeks. +Mrs. Munt wrote to him regularly to tell him how we were, and we, once +or twice--it was she who put it in our heads, I must confess--wrote a +little scrap to put inside hers, for which he told her to thank us when +he wrote back to her, but he never sent _us_ any letter. + +We didn't mind his not coming, except that now and then we thought we +should like to tell him of our discovery, and hear what he said about +it. But we were very happy; we never cared to go out for walks, which I +don't think nurse regretted; we always said we were much happier playing +about. And the conservatory and the saloon became our regular haunts +every, or almost every, afternoon. No one ever disturbed us--we never +heard the slightest sound in the house where the big drawing-room was; +indeed, for all we knew, it might not have been a house at all, but +just that one large room, for the other door--the proper door of the +room--was never opened. We tried it two or three times; it was always +firmly locked. But still it was clear that somebody came to dust the +room and the conservatory, if not every day, at least two or three +times a week, for they were not allowed to get any dustier. + +It was a good thing we were quiet children, not given to mischief, or +rough and wild, otherwise we might have done harm in some way, such +as breaking the glass in the conservatory, or spoiling the beautiful +"parquet" floor. And we certainly would have been discovered. It was +partly the fear of this that made us so careful, as well as a queer +fancy we had that the picture on the wall--the princess, as we still +called her--watched all we did, and that she would be very vexed if we +were not quite good. + +"Of course," Tib used to say, "it's a great honour to be allowed to play +in a palace, and we must show we are to be trusted." + +For after a while we got tired of our play-story about the baron and the +humpback and all the rest of it, and then we pretended that we came to +visit the princess in her beautiful palace, and that she was very kind +to us indeed. + +Sometimes we brought our books and work with us; on a rainy day we +always found it difficult to get to our secret haunts, for of course we +wouldn't tell stories about it, and nurse naturally didn't approve of +our going out in the damp. But after a while, when nurse found that we +came in quite dry, and that we never caught cold even when she left us +to our own devices on a wet day, she gave up being so fidgety, and so we +often did get to our palace all the same. + +One Friday at last there came a letter, saying grandpapa would be down +the next day and a gentleman with him. + +"What a bore that he's not coming alone," said I. "We shan't have a +word with him, and the gentleman's sure to be one of those stupid +Parliamentary people that talk to grandpapa about 'the House,' and +'so-and-so's bill,' all the time." For we had had some experience of +grandpapa's friends sometimes at Ansdell, when we had come in to dessert +and heard them talking. "I wonder if they go on all day long in the +'House' about bills, Tib? There must be a fearful lot of people who +never pay theirs if it takes all those clever gentlemen all their time +to be settling about them in the 'House.'" We were rather proud of +knowing what the "House" meant, you see. We thought from grandpapa's +being in it, that we knew all about the government things. + +Tib looked rather solemn. + +"I suppose it's because of the National Debt," she said. "It shows how +careful people should be not to spend too much, doesn't it, Gussie? But +I'm not sure that I care to speak to grandpapa more than usual. I'm so +awfully afraid of his stopping us going to the palace." + +"_Are_ you?" said I. "I'm not. That is to say, if I thought he'd mind +it, I wouldn't go there. What I want is to _find out_ about it from him. +I have still such an idea that it has something to do with the old +mystery." + +"If I thought that," said Tib, "I'd be far too frightened to tell him +about it." + +We spent a long time that afternoon in the big drawing-room. When we +were coming away, we all somehow felt a little melancholy. + +"We are pretty sure not to be able to come to-morrow, and certainly not +on Sunday," said Tib, sadly. "Dear princess," she went on, looking at +the portrait, "you mustn't forget us if we don't come to see you for a +few days. It won't be _our_ fault, you may be sure;" and really we could +have fancied that the sweet face smiled at us as we turned to go. + +We were playing on the lawn when grandpapa arrived the next day. Nurse +had intended to have us all solemnly prepared, like the last time, but +he came by an earlier train, and somehow she didn't know about it early +enough, so we were all in our garden things quite comfortably messy, +when we heard the sound of wheels, and looking round, saw to our +astonishment that it was the dog-cart. + +There was no help for it; we hadn't even time to wash our hands, +and there was no use trying to get out of the way, for to have gone +hurry-skurrying off as if we were ashamed would have vexed grandpapa +more than anything, especially as he had a friend with him. So we +marched boldly across the lawn and stood waiting, while the gentlemen +got down. + +"How do you do, grandpapa?" I said. "We didn't expect you quite so +soon." + +"Indeed," said he, as he kissed us in his usual cool sort of way, "an +unwelcome surprise--eh?" + +Tib got red at this, and looked as if she were going to cry. But I +didn't feel inclined to be put down like that, before a stranger, too. + +"No, grandpapa; it's not an unwelcome surprise, but we would have liked +to have been tidier; you know we generally are _quite_ tidy when you see +us." + +"For my part, I prefer to see small people when they're _not_ very +tidy," said a pleasant, hearty voice; and then the owner of it came +round from the other side of the dog-cart where he had jumped down. "You +must introduce me, Mr. Ansdell, please, to my--small, I was going to +say, but I'm surprised to see the word would be almost a +libel--cousins." + +"Umph," said grandpapa, "'cousins,' in the Scotch sense; how many +degrees removed, it would be difficult to say." + +"_I've_ not been taught to count you so very far away," said the +gentleman, good-humouredly, but with something in his tone that showed +he wasn't the sort of person to be very easily put down; "besides, sir, +as I'm your _godson_ as well as your cousin----" + +"I might be a little more civil, eh, Charles?" said grandpapa, laughing +a little. "Ah, well, I'm too old to learn, I fear. Nevertheless, I have +no objection to your calling each other cousins if you choose. Mercedes, +Gustava, and Gerald--your cousin, Mr. Charles Truro." + +We looked at him, and he looked at us. What we saw was a well-made, +pleasant-looking young man, not very tall, though not short, with +merry-looking grey eyes, close cut brown hair, and a particularly kindly +expression, a great improvement upon most of grandpapa's gentlemen +friends, who never looked at us as if they saw us. + +"Mercedes and Gustava," he repeated, slowly. "I thought one of them was +called Re----" + +But grandpapa interrupted him. + +"Mercedes is an absurd name for an English child," he said. "It was a +fancy of poor Gerald's--they were in Spain, you know." + +"But you needn't call Tib 'Mercedes,' unless you like," I said, +boldly--I don't really know what spirit of defiance, perhaps of +curiosity, made me say it--"she has another name; her second name is +Regina, like----" + +Would you believe it? I was on the point of saying "like the picture;" +but I cut myself short before I said more, and even had I not stopped, +grandpapa's tone would have startled me into doing so. + +"Will you be so good, Gustava, as to answer questions and remarks that +are addressed to you, and those only?" he said, in his horrible, icy +way. + +_I_ felt myself getting red now, especially as I was certain Mr. Truro +was looking at me. I made a silent vow that I wouldn't try to be nicer +to grandpapa, and that I would _certainly_ not tell him about our +secret. This comforted me a little, and I glanced up, to find that the +stranger was looking at me, but in such a nice way that I couldn't have +felt vexed if I had tried. + +"Will you take me round the garden?" he said. "I am quite stiff with +sitting so long." + +He spoke to us all, but I think he meant it most for me. Grandpapa +didn't seem to mind. I think that when he had said anything very +crabbed, he _was_ sorry, though he wouldn't say so. + +"Don't be very long, Charles," he said, as he went into the house and we +turned the other way, "I shall want you to look over those papers." + +"All right, sir, I won't be long," Mr. Truro called back in his cheery +tone. + +"Why does he want you to do his papers?" I asked. + +Mr. Truro laughed. + +"Because I'm acting as Mr. Ansdell's secretary just now," he said. + +Tib looked disappointed. + +"Oh," she said, "I thought you were a----" and she stopped. + +"Say on," said Mr. Truro. + +"A--a gentleman," said Tib. + +"Well, I hope I am," he said, smiling. + +"But doesn't he," I said, nodding my head towards the house, for I +perfectly understood what Tib meant, "pay you for being that?" + +"In point of fact Mr. Ansdell does _not_ pay me," he said. "What I learn +from being with him is far more valuable than money to me. But all the +same, if your grandfather _did_ pay me for my services, _that_ would not +make me less of a gentleman!" and Mr. Truro stood erect, and gave a +little toss to his head, which showed he could be in earnest when he +liked. But then he laughed again, and we saw he was not really vexed. +"May I make a remark in turn?" he said. "Are you young people in the +habit of talking of Mr. Ansdell as 'he' and 'him?' 'She,' I know, is +'the cat.' I have yet to learn who 'he' is." + +We laughed, but we blushed too, a little. + +"We don't always," said Tib; "but you see you _are_ a cousin; mayn't we +tell him things?" she exclaimed, impulsively, turning to Gerald and me. +"He's got such a kind face, and--and we haven't anybody like other +children." + +Mr. Truro turned his face away for half a second. I fancy he didn't want +us to see how sorry he looked. By this time we had sauntered round to +the other side of the lawn, out of sight of the house almost. There was +a garden seat near where we stood. Mr. Truro took Tib and me by the +hand, and Gerald trotted after. + +"Let's sit down," he said. "Now, that's comfortable. Yes, dears, I +_am_ a cousin, and I think you'll find me a faithful one. Do tell me +'things.' I won't let you say anything not right of your grandfather; +there is no man living I respect more. But perhaps I may help you to +understand him better." + +"Is he never cross to you?" asked Tib; "at least, not so much cross as +that horrid laughy-at-you-way--laughy without being funny or nice, you +know." + +"Yes, I do know," he answered. "I think Mr. Ansdell is inclined to be +that way to everybody a little. I wish you could hear how he makes some +of them smart now and then in the House." + +"The people who don't pay their bills--the people who make the National +Debt, do you mean?" I asked. + +"The how much?" asked our new cousin in his turn, opening his eyes very +wide. + +And when I explained what I meant, about all the talk we had heard about +_bills_, and how Tib had read something about the National Debt, and +thought it must mean that, you should have seen how he laughed; not a +bit like grandpapa, but just _roaring_. I know better now, of course. I +know that there are different kinds of bills, and that the ones we had +heard of being talked about in Parliament are new plans or proposals +that the gentlemen there--"members," like grandpapa--want to have made +into laws, because they think they would be good laws. I know, too, +pretty well--at least a little--about the National Debt, and that +somehow it isn't a bad thing, though little debts are very bad things. +I don't see how, but I suppose I shall understand when _I'm_ big, that +things that are bad when they're little aren't always bad when they're +very big. + +When Mr. Truro had finished laughing, he began to listen to all we had +to tell him. You would hardly believe how much we told him. Indeed, when +we thought it over afterwards we could hardly believe it ourselves; to +think that here was a strange gentleman we hadn't known an hour, whose +name we had never heard in our lives, and that we were talking to him +as we had never before talked to anybody. He had such a way of looking +as if he really _cared_ to hear. I think it was that that made it so +easy to talk to him; and then, of course, his being a cousin made a +difference. He wasn't a very near one, but I have noticed that sometimes +rather far-off cousins care for you quite as much or more than much +nearer ones. And anything in the shape of a cousin was a great deal to +us; we had never heard of having any at all. + +After we had chattered away for some time, some little remark, I forget +what exactly, something about what we did with ourselves all day after +lessons were over, seeing that we had no friends or companions, for we +had told him about grandpapa's not allowing us to know any neighbours; +something of that kind brought us dreadfully near the subject of our +discovery. We had already said _something_, though very little, about +the old book with the scored-out name, and Mr. Truro listened eagerly, +though it struck me afterwards more than at the time that he had not +seemed very surprised. + +And when we did not at once answer about how we amused ourselves, he +repeated the question. We looked at each other. Then Tib got rather red, +and said, quietly, + +"We can't tell you all we do, at least, I don't think we can," she said, +glancing at Gerald and me. + +Mr. Truro looked a little startled. + +"Why not?" he said. "I am sure, at least I think I may be, that you +wouldn't do anything you shouldn't. If, for example, you had been +tempted to make friends with any of the village children, it would be +much better to tell your grandfather; he might not mind if they were +good children, even if they were not of the same class as you. But it +would be wrong not to tell him." + +We began to feel a little frightened, and for the first time a misgiving +came over us that perhaps grandpapa might be angry at our having played +in the palace. I suppose our faces grew so solemn that Mr. Truro felt +more uneasy. + +"Come now," he said, "can't you tell me all about it? I don't look very +ogre-y, do I? That is, if you've no real objection to telling me before +you tell Mr. Ansdell." + +"We meant to tell him; we were going to tell him to-day," I said. +"Indeed, we, at least I, _wanted_ to tell him. I thought perhaps he'd +explain, or that we'd find out about it. But he isn't as kind this time +as he was the last, and perhaps he'd be angry, really angry. I never +thought before that it was a thing he could be angry about, did you, +Tib?" + +"No," said Tib, faintly; "and it would be so dreadful not to go there +any more." + +Gerald began to cry. + +Mr. Truro's face grew graver and graver. + +"My dear children," he began, "my dear little cousins, I must speak very +earnestly to you. You must tell this secret, whatever it is, to your +grandfather. It might not make him angry just now, but if you did _not_ +tell him, I very much fear it might." + +"But he is so very sharp to-day," said Tib; "you could see he was. And +when he is like that we can't tell things properly, and it somehow seems +as if we were naughty when we aren't really. We can't tell him _to-day_, +can we?" + +Mr. Truro reflected. + +"It is true," he said, "that Mr. Ansdell is _particularly_ busy and +worried. He has been terribly overworked lately; indeed, he came down +here expressly to be able to work without interruption. Can't you +confide in me, children? I promise to advise you to the very best +of my ability." + +"And you wouldn't tell him--grandpapa, I mean," said Tib, correcting +herself, "without _telling_ us you were going to?" + +"Certainly not. I should have no right to tell him without your leave," +he replied. + +We all looked at each other again. + +"I suppose we'd better, then," I said. "You begin, Tib. It's rather +difficult to think where it began," I went on. "It had to do with +grandpapa telling us so about not knowing the neighbours, or making +friends with any one, and we had never heard of Rosebuds before, you +know, and then I remembered seeing it in the book, and Tib likes +mysteries so, and----" + +"Take breath, Gussie, there's no such dreadful hurry," said Mr. Truro, +and his face grew more smiling as I went on. + +"We fixed to make a story about it. It didn't seem like prying to play +at it that way," said Tib. + +And then we went on to tell all about the imprisoned princess, and the +old arbour, and the supposed tool-house, which was to be a dungeon, and +Gerald finding the key, and just everything--all that I have written; I +needn't tell it all again. And with every word Mr. Truro's kind face +grew kinder and brighter; all the grave, uneasy look went quite out +of it, and this, of course, made it much easier to tell it all quite +comfortably. By the time we had quite finished--it took a good while, +for Gerald _would_ interrupt to tell that _he_ had found the key, and +_he_ had made it turn when Tib and Gussie couldn't--Mr. Truro's face had +grown more than bright, it looked quite beaming. + +"And the portrait of the princess is like Tib, you say--Mercedes, I +_should_ say? I would like best of all to call you 'Regina';" and he +passed his hand softly over Tib's dark hair. + +"Awfully like Tib, only prettier," I said, bluntly. But Tib didn't mind. +Something in Mr. Truro's tone had caught her attention. + +"Did you ever know any one called Regina?" she asked. "You seem to like +it so." + +Mr. Truro did not answer for a moment. Then he said, quietly, "It is a +family name with me, too. I have heard it all my life. You know I am +your cousin." + +"Oh, of course," we all said. + +Then he went on to talk of what we had been telling him. + +"Will you let me think over about it?" he said. "I am the last person to +advise you not to tell your grandfather _everything_, but I do not think +it would be wise to tell him anything just now, as he is extremely busy +and worried. I will tell you what I think you should do before I go." + +Of course we agreed readily to what he said. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +STEPPED OUT OF THE FRAME. + + "And, even as one on household stairs, + Who meets an angel unawares, + Might hold his breath; in silent awe + We stood." + _The Unknown Portrait_--SIR NOEL PATON. + + +We saw very little of grandpapa during this visit, and not as much of +Mr. Truro as we would have liked. For it was some very bothering time +about government things, and everybody that had to do with them was +very busy. We came in to dessert, as we always did, and grandpapa +was kind in his own way. He seemed pleased that we were such good +friends with Mr. Truro. I remember he said something to him about his +having done already what _he_--grandpapa--had not been able to do +himself--"gained our hearts," or something like that. And Mr. Truro +answered. "You could if you would, sir, or probably you _have_ if you +would but think so." But grandpapa only shook his head, though he smiled +a little in a nice way. + +And then they began talking again about all the papers and writings they +had to do, and we got tired of sitting still, and fidgeted with the wine +glasses and things on the table, so that grandpapa told us we had better +go to bed. + +The next day, Sunday, was pouring wet. + +We didn't see either grandpapa or our cousin till we were sitting in +church. We had come with nurse in the one-horse fly, which knew it +always had to come for us on wet Sundays, and we didn't hear anything of +the two gentlemen. We couldn't bear the long drive in the stuffy fly, +and we did not like the church, for the clergyman was old, and mumbled +his words, and the music wasn't nice nor anything else. + +"If we might only go to the pretty church in the village!" we whispered +to each other, as we whispered every Sunday. For this about the church +was the thing we disliked at Rosebuds, and at Ansdell we loved going to +church. It was so nice; beautiful hummy music and lovely singing, and +all so pretty. And the clergyman with a nice clear voice, and not too +long sermons. And--perhaps you will be shocked at this--everybody at +Ansdell knew us, and there was always a little sort of rustle when we +went in, and I could almost hear the school-girls talking in whispers +about "our young ladies' hats;" and if we happened to see one of them we +knew, and gave her a little nod and smile, she looked as proud as proud! +It was just as different as could be from this ugly, stupid little +church that grandpapa had taken it into his head to make us go to here, +and we were very pleased when we saw Mr. Truro coming up the aisle after +grandpapa, both of them looking so nice and grand, even though in a way +we felt ashamed for our cousin to see what an ugly little church it was. + +"He'll see for himself," I whispered to Tib, "and perhaps he'll say +something to grandpapa." + +For we were beginning to think of Mr. Truro as a sort of good fairy who +was to put everything right. + +Grandpapa and he had driven over in the dog-cart of course; they didn't +mind the rain, though I'm sure _we_ didn't mind it either, for that +matter--we should only have been too happy to drive over in the dog-cart +under waterproofs and mackintoshes; and when we were getting into the +fly after church, Gerald looked so woebegone, that Mr. Truro took pity +on him, and picked him out again. + +"I'll find a corner for you where you shan't get wet," he said, in his +nice, bright way. + +Lucky Gerald! we heard him chattering as he went off in Mr. Truro's +arms. "You know it _is_ worstest for me, isn't it? for I'm only seven, +and it does make my head ache so." + +I suppose he had--what is it you call it?--squeams of conscience, is +that the word? I must ask Re--oh, how stupid I am! that it was selfish +of him to desert us. He always takes refuge in his being the youngest +and "only seven," as it was _then_, when he is afraid he is going to be +blamed. + +But, after all, it was a good deal better in the fly without him. Nurse +doesn't think it rude of us to whisper when we are alone with her, so +Tib and I could say anything we liked to each other all the way home, +without Gerald's rosy round face poking in between us every moment to +say, "_What_ did you say, Tib?" "I can't hear, Gussie!" + +What we did keep saying to each other was mostly about Mr. Truro. What +was he going to fix we should do? Would he "think it over" till he found +out we should tell grandpapa at once; and if grandpapa were worried, and +said in a hurry we must never go to our palace any more, how horrible +it would be! + +"I don't _think_ he will," said Tib. "He's so very understanding. If +he could only see the place himself, he would quite understand that we +can't get any harm there, or do any mischief." + +"Yes," I said, "I wish we could have shown it him. Besides, if he's our +cousin, and has heard about 'Reginas,' he _might_ find out something +about our princess." + +But Tib didn't care about this idea. + +"I don't want it spoilt," she said; "I've got used to her being just our +princess, and to there being a mystery. I don't want to undo it." + +It didn't look very like undoing it. We never saw Mr. Truro all that +afternoon, and it was one of the longest I ever remember. It cleared up +about tea-time, and we went three times round the lawn, on the gravel +path, of course, and we saw grandpapa at the drawing-room window, which +he had thrown open for some air, as we came in, and he asked us if we +had seen Mr. Truro. And when we said no, he turned away, saying, rather +crossly, "I wish he'd be quick; I'm sure it's not a very tempting day +for a long walk," and Tib and I rather agreed with Gerald that we +shouldn't much care to be grandpapa's "Scretchetary." + +But late that evening--near bed-time it was--we heard a quick step +coming to the schoolroom door. + +"May I come in?" said Mr. Truro's voice. + +We all jumped up to welcome him, and nurse discreetly retired. + +"I can't stay long, dears," he said, "and we are off first thing +to-morrow morning. But listen; I don't think you need speak to your +grandfather about your discovery just now. Wait till he comes back the +next time, a fortnight hence. I shall come with him, and he will not +then be nearly so busy. I have satisfied myself that you cannot come to +any harm in your palace, and I am sure you will do no mischief there." + +"No; and _perhaps_ grandpapa knew of it--what do you think?--the day he +said we might go through the door in the wall if we could. And he only +forbade us making friends with people." + +"Not with portraits," said Mr. Truro, with a smile. "Well, good-bye, my +dear little cousins. I can't tell you how pleased I am to have made +friends with you." + +He stooped and kissed us all, hurriedly, for we heard doors opening, +and a voice in the distance, which we were quite sure was grandpapa's, +"Where is Mr. Truro?" and then he was gone, and we didn't see him again +the next morning. + +It almost seemed like a dream his having been at Rosebuds at all, +especially when we again found ourselves in the saloon that afternoon, +our dear princess smiling down at us as usual. + +"You don't know, princess, what a nice new cousin we have got," we said +to her, for we had got into the way of telling her everything that +interested us; "I'm sure you'd like him, and I'm sure he'd like _you_," +Tib went on, and we really could have fancied the sweet, proud face gave +a little amused smile. "I think he was very sorry not to come to see +you, but perhaps he will the next time he's here." + +Then we went on with some of our usual plays, and we were as happy as +could be. It seemed somehow a good long while since we had been in the +palace, though in reality it was only three days, and we were tempted +to stay a little later than usual. But just as we were thinking we must +go, a rather queer thing happened. You remember my telling you that the +other door of the saloon, the real big door, which must have been the +regular way of coming into the room from the rest of the house--if there +was a house--I don't think we had really ever thought seriously if there +was a house, or if the saloon was a sort of pavilion in a garden all by +itself--well, this door was locked, firmly locked; we had tried it two +or three times, but it was quite fast. Not stuck or stiff, or anything +like that, but quite locked. But this day, just as we were coming away, +we heard a little, very little, faint squeak, like some one trying to +open or shut a door very, very softly, and looking at the big heavy gilt +handles--it was a double door, with two sets of handles and all that, +you understand--we distinctly saw one of them turn, and then all was +quiet and motionless again. + +We looked at each other, and then we all darted forward--I think it +_was_ rather brave of us--and seized _the_ handle. It turned certainly, +easily enough, as door handles generally do, but that was all. The door +didn't open; it was as firmly fastened as before. + +"If we hadn't _all_ seen it," said Tib, "I should have thought it was +fancy." + +But we were satisfied that it wasn't. + +"Whoever turned the handle must have locked the door again on the other +side as quick as thought," I said. "They must have been peeping in at us +without our hearing, and then when they heard the squeak the handle made +as they were closing the door again, they must have quietly locked it, +expecting us to come to see who was there. I wonder who it was!" + +We all wondered, but in vain. + +"It _may_ have only been the person who comes in to dust," said Tib; +"there must be such a person, unless the princess herself comes out +of her frame in the night to do it. Only if it were that person, most +likely she'd have come in and asked us who we were, and what business we +had there; it's very queer." + +We decided when we went home that the next day we should make our way +in as quietly as we possibly could, so that if any one were there, they +shouldn't hear us in time to run away. + +"And we'll sit quite still all the afternoon," said Gerald; "we won't +make the least bit of noise, so that they'll think we're not there, and +then they'll come straight in." + +"They must have known we were there to-day; it's not likely they'll +come straight in if they don't want us to see them," said Tib. "I can't +make it out; whoever they are, they've more right there than we have. I +think the only way is to take our books to-day and sit quietly reading; +and we had better hide ourselves as much as we can, so that we shouldn't +be seen all at once." + +"Aren't you at all frightened?" said Gerald. "S'pose it was some kind of +robbers?" + +"Nonsense," said I. "Mr. Truro said he was satisfied we couldn't +come to any harm there: I believe what he said. I'm not going to be +frightened--are you Tib?" + +"N--no. I don't think so," she replied, rather doubtfully. "Any way, I +shouldn't at all like never to go there again." + +But we all three did feel very excited the next afternoon, and I +think all our hearts were beating a good deal faster than usual as we +noiselessly made our way out of the conservatory and along the passage +now so familiar to us, through the little anteroom, and then, as quietly +as possible, opened the door into the saloon. And then-- + +You know, I dare say--big people must know all about these things better +than children--how _very_ quickly thoughts, or feelings, or something +not exactly either--since I wrote that, a big person has told me that +the word that best says what I mean is _impressions_: I am not sure that +it says it to me; but that is, perhaps, because I have never thought of +the word in that way before--You must know how _very_ quickly one seems +to know a thing sometimes, before there could have been time, even, to +get to know it by any regular way of hearing or seeing. Well, that was +how it was with us that day. The very instant the door opened we knew +there was something different in the room--it seemed warmer, more alive, +there was more feeling in it; and yet it was darker than we had ever +seen it before--at least, that end of the room where our princess was +had got into the shade somehow. _Her_ face was not the first thing that +caught our eyes, as it usually was; or _was_ it her face? + +I dare say you will think us too silly when I tell you that for about +half a second we _did_ think the princess had really stepped down out +of the frame. It was _so_ like her. There she stood, quite still, but +smiling at us as if she had expected us. Her hair was dark--like Tib's +and like the picture's--her eyes just the same as both of theirs; but +she was far, far prettier than either! She was dressed in something +white, and there was some pink about it, too; and though of course it +wasn't really made the same way as the dress in the picture, it was like +enough to give a confused feeling at the first of being the same. And +she was standing a little in the same way, and a hat--a black hat with +drooping feathers--was slung on her arm. + +We three just stood and gaped, and stared as if our eyes would come out +of our heads. And she stood, still smiling, but perfectly motionless. + +Gerald was the first to come to his senses. He ran forward a little +towards the end of the room where the portrait was--it was still there; +it was only that one of the blinds had been drawn down so as to cast it +into shade--and glancing up at the wall, he called out, + +"It's still there--it isn't _it_. It's another princess." + +And at his words a peal of laughter--not very loud, but such pretty +clear laughter, I wish you could hear it!--rang through the room, and +the new princess, the living, moving princess, came forward to us, +holding out her hands. + +"So you have come at last," she said; "I expected you this morning. I +knew you heard me at the door yesterday, and I thought your curiosity +would bring you early." + +I didn't quite like her calling us "curious." It wasn't quite the right +word to use for all our pretty fancies about the princess, and even +about the mystery. + +"We never can come in the morning," I said, "because of our lessons. +And--it wasn't _curiosity_." + +"Indeed!" she replied, a tiny little bit mockingly; "not curiosity. What +shall I call it, then, your inquiring minds, eh?" + +I felt my face get red, and I felt that Tib's was getting red too. + +"I don't know who you are," I burst out, "and if you don't choose to +tell us, I am not going to ask. _That_ isn't curiosity. But I wish you +hadn't come; you've spoilt it all. Our own princess," and I glanced up +at the portrait, looking, I could not but confess, like a washed-out +doll beside the brilliant living beauty of the girl beside us, "our own +princess is much nicer than you. And if we had been so curious we might +have tried to find out things in pokey ways. We've never done that." + +I looked, I suppose ready to cry. The lady's face changed, and then I +knew that while she had been talking in that half teasing way, something +in her voice and smile had reminded me of grandpapa--of grandpapa, I +mean, when he was in that sort of laughing-at-us way that we couldn't +bear. Perhaps this had made us all feel more vexed at her than she +really deserved us to be. But when her face changed, and a soft, sorry +look came over it, she reminded me of _more_ than any real face I had +ever seen--she reminded me of all the prettiest and nicest fancies I had +ever had; the sweet look in her eyes was _so_ sweet, that I wished I +might put my arms round her and kiss her. And Tib told me afterwards +that she had felt exactly the same. + +"I'm very sorry," she said, simply; "I didn't come here to hurt your +feelings. Good fairies never do that, unless to very naughty children, +whose feelings need to be hurt. And yours don't need to be hurt, for +I know you're not naughty children--very far from it. Of course you +wouldn't try to find out things in any way that wasn't nice, I know +that. But wouldn't you like to know my name?" + +"If you like to tell it," we said, smiling up at her. + +"Or would you rather count me a sort of a fairy?" she went on. + +"_Are_ you one?" said Gerald, softly stroking the pretty soft stuff of +which her dress was made. + +"Perhaps," she said, smiling again. "I shouldn't wonder if you could +decide that better than I can. Try to find out--think of some things I +couldn't know unless I were a fairy." + +"I know," said Gerald; "_our_ names. You _couldn't_ know them if you +weren't a fairy, or--or if perhaps you knowed some fairies who had told +you them," he added, getting a little muddled. + +"If I had a fairy godmother, for instance, who had told me them," she +said. + +"Yes--that might be it," said Gerald. + +"Well, then--dear me, I mustn't make any mistake, or my godmother would +be very angry, after all her teaching," she said, pretending to look +very trying-to-remember, like Gerald when he stops at "eight times +nine," and screws up his mouth and knits his brows. "Well, to begin +with, the eldest. This is Tib--but her real name is Mercedes Regina; +this is Gustava; and this is Gerald Charles. And Gustava is generally +called 'Gussie.' Now, have I said my lesson rightly?" + +We all stared at her. + +"You must be a fairy," said Gerald. But Tib and I felt too puzzled to +say anything. + +"What shall we call you?" I asked. + +"Anything you like. I've got a lot of names. One of them, curious to +say, is the same as the name scribbled on the portrait just above the +name of the painter. Did you ever notice it?" + +"Do you mean the same name as Tib's second one?" I asked; "Regina?" + +The young lady nodded her head. + +"That's very funny," we said. "That's the name in the book in London +too." + +"What book?" she asked, quickly. + +I hesitated a moment. Then I thought as I had said so much it would be +stupid not to explain. So I told her. She looked sad and thoughtful as +she listened. + +"It was scored out, you said?" she asked. + +"Yes, with a thick black stroke, as if somebody had been very angry +when they did it," I said. "If we hadn't known the name, from its being +Tib's, I don't think we could ever have made it out." + +"Ah," said the young lady, and it sounded like a sigh. But in a moment +she smiled again. + +"I didn't come here to make you sad," she said. "Won't you tell me about +the games you play, and let me play with you. Perhaps my fairy godmother +has taught me some that you don't know and that you would like to +learn." + +But we didn't feel quite ready for playing games yet. There were two +or three things on our minds. The new princess saw that we looked +uncertain. + +"What is it?" she said. "You look as if you were afraid of me." + +"No," said Tib, and "No," said I. "It isn't that, but there are some +things we want to ask you." + +"Ask them. I won't call you curious, I prom----" + +But just that moment a bell rang--not loudly, but she heard it at once, +and started up. She had been sitting on one of the old couches, with +us all about her. "I must go," she said. "Come to-morrow and I will +tell you all I can. Good-bye; good-bye till to-morrow," and in half an +instant--I never saw any one move so quick--she had gone. We heard a +key turn in the lock of the double door outside, and that was all! + +We looked at each other again without speaking. Surely she must be a +fairy of some kind, after all! + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +OUR FAIRY. + + "A creature not too bright or good + For human nature's daily food." + WORDSWORTH. + + +It seemed a very long time to the next afternoon, and if Liddy hadn't +been the most unnoticing old woman in the world, she would certainly +have seen that there was something unusual in our heads. We could think +of nothing but our new friend the fairy, or "the other princess," as +Gerald would call her. Who could she be? where had she come from? +how--and this, perhaps, was the thing we wondered most about--how in +the world did she know all about us, or our names, even down to our pet +names, any way? + +Then another thought was in my mind and Tib's. Grandpapa had told us to +make no friends with the neighbours. Would it be disobeying him to go to +meet the young lady in the saloon and play with her, as she had asked +us? + +"Is she a neighbour?" said Tib. "We don't know--we don't know if she +lives there, or where she lives, or anything." + +"We must ask her," I said; "any way, we must go and see her again to ask +her. We must go to see her _once_, and we will tell her what grandpapa +said." + +"I think she is a fairy, and that she lives in Fairyland; and grandpapa +didn't say we weren't to speak to fairies," said Gerald. + +"Oh! how I wish Mr. Truro was here; we could ask him about it," I said. + +"And there's another thing," said Tib: "we almost promised Mr. Truro we +wouldn't say anything about the palace and all that to grandpapa just +now--not till they came again. It's rather a muddle altogether, don't +you think, Gussie?" + +"I dare say she--we must get a name for her, Tib----" + +"We'd better just call her Regina," Tib said. "She said it was her +name." + +"Well, I dare say Regina will tell us what she thinks we should do. Any +way, as you say, we must go to see her once to tell her about it. I +wonder what the bell was that rang, and made her rush off in such a +hurry. That part of it was really very like a fairy story." + +"If only she had left a slipper behind her, it would have been a little +like Cinderella," I said; "though the deserted, quiet rooms, and that +part of it, is more like the Sleeping Beauty." + +"And the first day, when we were trying to get in at the door in the +wall, was like one of the stories of dwarfs and gnomes in the woods, +wasn't it?" said Tib. "We've really had a good many adventures at +Rosebuds." + +This conversation took place the morning after we had first seen Regina. +We were in the schoolroom, waiting for Mr. Markham. It was a little past +his usual time when he came in. + +"I'm a little late, I fear," he said. "I had to go to the Rectory to +settle about giving some holiday lessons to one of the boys there. It +will be Whit-week holidays soon, you know." + +We didn't care very much; Whit-week would make no difference to +us. Indeed, Christmas itself we didn't look forward to in _those_ +days, as most children do. It brought no happy family meetings, no +Christmas-trees, or merry blind-man's buff and snap-dragon to us. But we +knew too little about these things in other homes to think about what we +missed, and grandpapa always gave us a pound each to spend as we chose. +And at Ansdell, the Christmases we happened to be there, the servants +had a party, and we used to watch them from the gallery that runs round +the big hall. But Whit-week we cared nothing about. + +"We're not to have holidays, then, are we?" I asked. + +"Oh, no; Mr. Ansdell has said nothing about it," Mr. Markham replied. +"By the by, Miss Gussie, you don't know when he will be coming down +again, do you?" + +"No," I said. "It won't be next Saturday, and perhaps not the Saturday +after." + +"Ah well! I can write to him. I thought perhaps he would say something +for me to the rector--you don't know the family at the Rectory, I +think?" + +"No," said Tib. + +"It is curious," said Mr. Markham--he was rather talkative this morning; +perhaps it had put him into an extra good humour to have the hope of +some more pupils--"it is curious--I saw a young lady there this morning +that I could really have thought was an elder sister of Miss Tib's--she +was so very like her." + +We were all ears and attention now. + +"So like Tib?" said Gerald and I. + +"So like me?" said Tib. + +"Yes," repeated Mr. Markham, "exceedingly like." + +He didn't add, as I have done, "only a great deal prettier." Perhaps it +is because Tib is my own sister, and I'm always seeing her and know her +face so well, that I don't think her as pretty as other people do--or +rather, I don't think about it. When you love people dearly you don't +think about whether they're pretty or not--even now with Reg----Oh! I +am too stupid again. + +"It is very funny," we said, in which Mr. Markham agreed. He was +thinking, of course, that the likeness was curious; _we_ were thinking +of far more than that--of how strange it would be if our mysterious lady +was staying at the Rectory. If so, how did she get into the saloon?--how +did she know our names?--how did she know that we went there to play? + +"Yes, I should like you to see it for yourselves. But you don't know the +family there?" + +"No," repeated Tib, rather sharply, "we don't. Grandpapa doesn't wish us +to make any friends here." + +"Oh, exactly--I beg your pardon," said poor Mr. Markham. Probably +grandpapa had said something about it to our tutor himself, which for +the moment he had forgotten, for he got rather red, poor young man, +and began rather hurriedly to get the books ready. "We mustn't waste +any more time," he said, and, as we were sorry to see him looking +uncomfortable, we didn't remind him, as we might have done, that it was +he, and not we, who had begun the conversation. + +It was a little later than usual when we got out that afternoon. Nurse +had kept us to try on some new frocks she was making for us, and we +were very cross about it, I remember. But after all, it didn't matter. +When we found ourselves at last in the saloon, and looked round eagerly, +there was no one to greet us, but the smiling face of the portrait--the +same which we had before thought so lovely, but which now seemed +uninteresting and disappointing compared to the living, changing, +half-mischievous, half-tender face, which already I really believe we +had learnt to love. + +"She'll be coming soon, I dare say," said Tib. "Let's sit down quietly, +and think of all we want to ask her, in case she makes off in a hurry +like yesterday," and we were turning towards the end of the room where +stood all the old chairs and couches, when something on one of the +marble consols caught our eyes. It was something lightly covered with a +sheet of white tissue-paper, and lifting it up, there were three little +nosegays of lovely flowers--delicate, brilliant hot-house flowers they +were, and each nosegay lay on a book, and a card with writing on it was +put so that it could be seen at once on the middle nosegay. The words on +the card were these:-- + + "For Tib, Gussie, and Gerald. I am so sorry I cannot come + to-day. The books are to amuse you instead, and I will come + again the first day I can. + "R." + +We were very disappointed. Still, it was very nice and funny to receive +messages and presents in this mysterious way. The flowers were really +beautiful, and the books were chosen as if she had known us all our +lives. We knew at once which was for which, by the way they were lying +on the table. Gerald's was about animals--stories, I mean--and Tib's was +Lamb's _Tales from Shakespeare_, and mine was _The Wonder Book_. + +We sat down and looked at our books, and scented our flowers--don't you +think it's very ugly to talk of _smelling_ flowers? _we_ always say +"scenting," though somebody laughs at us for it, and says it isn't the +proper meaning of the word--and then we all three made ourselves very +comfortable in different corners of the arm-chairs and couches, and read +our new stories. And thus we spent the afternoon. It wasn't as long a +one as usual, for we had come so late. But before we went away we got +into a great puzzle about how to thank her for the books and flowers. + +"It would be rude to go away and leave no message," said Tib. "And she +doesn't say she'll come to-morrow, only 'The first day I can.' Perhaps +she'll come in the morning, and look to see if we've taken the books." + +But not one of us had a pencil or a scrap of paper in our pockets, +though we turned them inside out. Gerald had a top and some nails, +and an awful little pink and white grimy ball that he called his +"handkercher"; and Tib had her garden gloves, and a rather clean +handkerchief, and some red wool with a crochet needle stuck in it, as +she was learning to crochet; and I had nothing at all. What was to be +done? + +"I know," I said; "you don't mind using your wool, do you, Tib? Well, +look here, we'll write with it on the white marble," and I set to work, +and very soon I had written the words, "Thank you, kind fairy," to which +Gerald made me add, "Come soon," and our initials, "T" and two "G's." It +really looked quite pretty, and one comfort was, there was no fear of +any one spoiling it before Regina saw it. + +And then we went home, but we left our new books in the conservatory, +because we shouldn't have known what to say if nurse had asked us about +them. + +The next day, to our great vexation, something prevented our going at +all--I forget what it was--oh no! I remember. It was that nurse took us +to the little town where Mr. Markham came from, to get us spring hats. +She had got grandpapa's leave to take us when he was at Rosebuds, and +she hadn't told us--poor old Liddy!--because she thought it would be +such a delightful surprise. + +It would have been a great treat if we hadn't had our heads so full of +Regina, and wanting to see her again. But we were not so unkind and +selfish as not to look pleased when nurse told us about it. + +"How are we to go to the station?" I asked, for nurse had said it was +two stations off by train, and when she said we should walk to the +station--it was quite fine, and if it hadn't been fine we would have +had to wait for another day--we were very pleased. + +"We can peep in at the Rectory garden as we pass," I said to Tib, "and +perhaps we'll see the lady that's like you, whoever she is. I _wonder_ +if she is Regina?" + +"So do I," said Tib; "I wonder about it altogether." + +But though we stared in with all our eyes at the garden of the pretty +house next the church, on our way to the station, there was nobody to +be seen. + +"That is the Rectory, isn't it, nurse?" Tib asked her. + +"I suppose so, my dears," she replied, rather nervously. "But I couldn't +say for certain, having been so little in the village." + +She was always in such a fright, for fear of getting to know any one or +anything in the village. It was rather stupid of her to show it so, for +it only put all grandpapa's funny ways about it more into our heads, but +we didn't like to tease her, so we said no more. + +But on the way home we took another peep in at the Rectory gates. Nurse +was a little way behind, loaded with parcels which she _wouldn't_ let +us help her to carry; and we ran on a little. It was easy to peep in +without being seen, but what we saw added to our puzzle. A lady was +walking up and down the avenue with a book in her hand which she was +reading, and as she turned our way, we saw her face clearly. + +"Tib," I whispered, "_she's_ like you, and she's like Regina, too--only +she's old. _And_, Tib, she's like grandpapa." + +So she was. She had the same straight-up, rather proud way of holding +herself as he has, dark hair, which was beginning to get grey, and those +pretty blue eyes with the bright eager look which all the blue eyes +among us have--yes, she was like them _all_--the portrait, too. And just +as we were staring, there came a call from the house, and an old, quite +old, lady came to a glass door which opened on to the terrace. I knew +afterwards that this old lady was the clergyman's mother or his wife's +mother, who lived with them, and they have all lived there a very long +time. + +"Regina, Queenie, my dear," the old lady called out, "tea is ready. +Frances wants you to come in." + +The lady turned quickly. + +"I'm coming, Mrs. Leslie," she said, and then she walked quickly to the +house. + +"Regina, another Regina!" we exclaimed. "And Queenie: what a pretty +name for a pet name! I wonder our Regina didn't tell us to call her +'Queenie.'" + +For of course, as we had learned a little Latin, we knew that Regina +meant "queen." + +"We must ask her why she didn't," said Gerald. + +You can fancy how we looked forward to the next afternoon, and how we +hoped our pretty lady would be there. + +It all went right for once. Nurse was more busy than usual about all the +things she had bought for us at Welford, and very glad to get rid of us +as soon as we had had our dinner. For, happily, she had no trying-on to +do to-day. + +"You may have a good long afternoon in the garden," she said. "I must +say you're wonderful good children for amusing yourselves. There's never +any tease-teasing, like with some I've known--'What shall we do, nurse?' +or, 'We've nothing to play at.' And you're getting very good, too, about +never getting into mischief. You're _much_ better, Miss Gussie, than you +were last year at Ansdell: for it was you as was the ringleader." + +"Yes," said I, not very much ashamed of the distinction. "Do you +remember the day I took grandpapa's new railway rug to make a carpet to +our tent, and left it out all night, and it rained and all the colour +ran? And do you remember when I pushed Gerald into the pond to catch the +little fishes, and how he stood shivering and crying?" + +"Ah, yes, indeed," said nurse. "But speaking of ponds--the one at +Ansdell was nothing; but those nasty pits or pools in the fields near +by: you never go near them? Your grandpapa has a real fear of them, and +he told me not to let you forget what he'd said." + +"No fear," we all answered, "we never go near them. We promised him we +wouldn't, nurse." + +Then off we ran. + +"Even if she isn't there, she's sure to have left some message for us, +like the last time," said Gerald as we ran. "I wish she'd bring us some +butter-scotch." + +"_Gerald!_" exclaimed Tib and I, "what sort of ideas have you? Fairies +and butter-scotch mixed in the same breath. I only hope," Tib went on, +"that she won't think we're ungrateful for the books, or that we don't +care for them, because we had to leave them in the conservatory." + +"If only she's there, we can explain everything," said I. + +And she _was_ there. + +Not waiting in the saloon this time, but running down the long passage +to meet us as soon as she heard our steps, looking prettier, and +merrier, and sweeter than ever. _Dear_ Regina! + +I have never minded her teasing since that first day, when I really +didn't understand her. I shall never mind it again, I am sure. + +She led us into the big drawing-room, where she had prepared another +little surprise for us. She was as pleased about it as we were +ourselves. It was more of Gerald's kind of treat this time--not +butter-scotch, but fruit--grapes, and beautiful little Tangiers +oranges, and little cakes and biscuits of ever so many kinds. They +were so nice, and we ate such a lot of them, and Regina ate a good +many herself. + +"You see, though I am a fairy, I like nice things," she said. + +"Do you have afternoon luncheon every day?" asked Gerald. "Oh, how I +would like to be you." + +"_Isn't_ he a greedy boy?" I said; and then I told her about the +butter-scotch, and somehow the butter-scotch led to our talking of +grandpapa--you remember about Gerald wishing he'd bring us some--and +then we all got rather grave, for we had a great deal to tell our new +princess, and to ask her. + +We sat together in a little group on one of the arm-chairs, and Regina +listened to us very attentively. We told her all that grandpapa had said +to us before we came to Rosebuds, and all about the book in the library +in London, and how we wanted to love grandpapa better, as Mrs. Munt had +told us we should, but that it was rather difficult. We told her all we +had told Mr. Truro, only more, for we had to tell her all about him as +well. And then we asked her if she thought it was disobeying grandpapa +for us to come to see her; and when we had told her all we could think +of, we waited very anxiously to hear what she would say. Her face looked +grave, though not exactly sad. + +"Your friend--Mr. Truro--told you to wait till he came back again?" she +said. + +"Yes, but that was only about coming in here to play. We hadn't seen +you then--and grandpapa told us not to make friends with any of the +neighbours. Are you a neighbour? Do you live here?" + +"No," said Regina. "I live far from here." + +"And how can you come so often to see us, then?" we asked. + +She smiled. + +"Can't you fancy I come on a sunbeam, or a cloud, or on a broomstick if +you like? Or if I had only thought of taking the picture away, you might +really have thought I had come out of the frame! No children, I'm not +going to tell you where I come from, or how I come, or _anything_. Then +you can feel you're not hearing from me anything your grandfather would +not wish you to hear, and when he and Mr. Truro come here again, you +can tell them all--everything, and see what they say. You can bring Mr. +Truro here to see me, if you like, and we'll talk it over. Now, as who +knows how seldom we may see each other again, suppose we make the best +use of our time. I've got some games to teach you--new games. Let us be +as happy and merry as we can be while we _are_ together." + +And you cannot fancy what fun we had. + +She kept us playing, and guessing tricks and riddles, and even singing +little glees--she had such a pretty voice--so busily that we hadn't +time to ask her any more questions, and indeed forgot to do so. So that +when it grew late and we had to go home, and Regina kissed us and said +good-bye, we knew as little about her, or where she had come from or was +going to, as if she had really flown down to us from some fairy country +invisible to mortal eyes. + +"And will you come again soon?" we asked. + +"Whenever I can, but that is all I can promise," she said, and then she +disappeared behind the heavy doors, and we heard the key turn in the +lock on the other side. + +And we went home, wishing it were to-morrow. + +"No, not to-morrow--she's sure not to come so soon again, but, all the +same, we must come and see." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THREE STARLINGS. + + "'I can't get out; I can't get out,' said the starling. + 'God help thee,' said I; 'but I'll let thee out.'" + _Sentimental Journey._ + + +She didn't come the next day, but instead of her we actually found three +little packets of butter-scotch tied up in white paper, with a different +coloured ribbon on each: mine was pink, and Tib's blue, and Gerald's +green. I think nothing that had happened to us pleased Gerald as much +as this, though he couldn't pretend to think it had come from Fairyland. + +And two days after that, the girl herself came again, and we had another +merry afternoon of games and fun. How we laughed! there never was any +one as clever as our new princess at games. And when we were all too +tired and hot to play any more, she told us to sit down quietly to rest, +and to shut our eyes, and pretend to go to sleep for five minutes. And +when we did so we heard a little faint rustling, and if we had not +promised I am sure we should have opened our eyes, we were so afraid +she was tricking us, and running away without saying good-bye. + +But in a minute we heard the rustling again. + +"Open your eyes," said her voice, and when we opened them, lo and +behold! there was a glass jug filled with lemonade--it was so good--and +four little tumblers, and sponge cakes. The tumblers were red and of a +queer shape, and so was the big jug. + +"These might have come from Fairyland," I said. "You know, Regina"--for +she would make us call her so--"Gerald won't give up about you being a +fairy; only when it came to packets of butter-scotch----" + +"Even he couldn't believe there were butter-scotch manufactories in +Fairyland," said she, laughing. And then we all laughed just because we +were so happy. + +"We've never laughed so much in our lives before, I don't think," said +Tib. + +"Poor little pets," said Regina, "it won't do you any harm. It should do +the old house good too--it's many a long day since it heard any merry +voices." + +"The old house," said I; "what do you mean?" + +"Why, the old house we're in--the place where you are. Where do you +suppose yourself to be at this moment?" she asked, seeing I looked more +and more puzzled. + +"I don't know," I said. "We thought it was perhaps just this room, or +else that it was a sort of a palace. We never thought of it as a regular +house." + +"A pavilion of some kind, I suppose you mean," said she. + +"Why do you call it the _old house_? Is it very old?" asked Tib. + +"Yes," said Regina, "it is. It has got into being called the old house +because it is the oldest anywhere about, I suppose. And then, you see, +when people haven't lived in a place for very, very long, they get into +that way of speaking of it--out of a sort of affection--just as one +speaks of the old days, you know, when one speaks of long ago." + +"Did you live here long ago, and then not for a great while?" + +"No, I never lived here, and then I'm not so old as all that. I heard +about the old days of course from----" but then she got red, and stopped +suddenly. "I think it's time to go," she said. + +"Wait a minute," said I; "will you show us some of the rooms of the +house? We should so like to see them." + +The new princess hesitated. Then she shook her head. "No, dears," she +said, "I'd better not. Just try to keep to your old fancies, and take +Gerald's way: it's the best just now. And now listen: this is Wednesday. +I can't come to-morrow. You'll promise to come on Friday?" + +"Yes," we all said. + +"I particularly want you to come on Friday," she went on, and her face +grew a little sad, "though I can't quite explain why--except--just that +after that perhaps I can't see you for a good while." + +"Oh! don't say that," we all cried together; "do try and not let it be +that way. We will come on Friday, you may be sure." + +"But don't expect me very early," she said. "I may not be able to come +till pretty late." + +And then she kissed us all again, and she went her way, and we ours. + +It happened very well that she had asked us to come on Friday, and not +on Thursday, for on Thursday it was so _extra_ pouring wet that nurse +wouldn't let us go out at all. And we were exceedingly anxious on Friday +morning to see what the weather was going to be, and we were all +delighted to see it was fine. + +"We must have a long afternoon to ourselves, nurse," we said. "It's +horrid to be cooped up in the house all day." + +"Well, I'm sure, my dears, I'm as sorry as you can be when it has to be +so," said nurse. "But it's very wet everywhere still to-day. It did pour +so yesterday. You must be sure to take your goloshes, and to come in at +once if you feel chilly or shivery. I wouldn't for anything have you +take cold." + +"We never do, nurse," Tib said. "You must allow that we don't give you +much trouble about our being ill." + +"As if I'd grudge any trouble, my dear," said Liddy--she was very matter +of fact. "But it's true you've given no trouble of any kind since you've +been here, and so I shall tell your dear grandpapa--and so, I'm sure, +will Mrs. Munt. She thinks there never were such children. But do be +careful now, dears, not to catch cold just as your dear grandpapa's +coming?" + +"Grandpapa coming! You never told us," we exclaimed. "When is he +coming?" + +"To-morrow; and Mr. Truro too. At least, Mrs. Munt's sure it's him, +though Mr. Ansdell only says to prepare the same rooms as last time. I +meant to tell you when we began speaking--Mrs. Munt just got the letter +this morning." + +"What a good thing he's not coming to-day," we said to ourselves. "Nurse +would never have let us out at all, or else we would have had to come in +early, and _she_ said she couldn't come early. I wonder, Tib," I went +on, "I wonder if somehow her wanting us so much to-day, and what she has +said, has anything to do with grandpapa's coming?" + +"How could _she_ know he was coming before we knew it ourselves, even? +Gussie, it's not _me_ that's too fanciful nowadays," said Tib. "Of +course, on _our_ side, knowing he was coming might have made us say +perhaps it would be the last time. You know we've promised her and +ourselves to tell Mr. Truro all about her, and then he or we must tell +grandpapa, and who knows what he'll say? It's to be hoped he's not so +busy and worried as he was when he was here before." + +But the thought that it _might_ be the last time we should see our +pretty princess--that grandpapa might even forbid our ever going to our +palace, as we still called it, at all, made us rather sad and subdued, +and it was not as merrily as usual that we ran through the tangle to the +door in the wall. + +"Be quick, Gerald," I said, when he had got the key in the lock, and was +turning it--he always counted it his business; "what are you pulling +at?" + +"It's stiff to-day--it may have got rusty with it raining so yesterday," +he said. For we still always left the key in the summer-house--we were +afraid to take it into the house. "It needs oiling again, perhaps;" but +he had managed to open the door by this time, and he took the key out of +the lock as he spoke, and we all passed through, Gerald locking the door +again _inside_, and leaving the key in the lock, as we always did. + +Regina was not yet there, but we were not surprised: she had said she +might be late of coming, and we had not waited, just _for fear_ of nurse +stopping us at the last minute. We amused ourselves with some of the +puzzles she had brought and left for us to play with when we were not +inclined for noisier games, and in about an hour, to our delight, we +heard the key turn in the big door, and in came our princess, a basket +on her arm, which she set down on the floor, while she locked the door +inside, and put the key in her pocket. + +"You needn't do that," said Tib and I, rather offended; "we're not going +to try to go out of the room, since you told us you didn't want us to." + +"I did it without thinking," said Regina. "I know I can trust you. Now +kiss me, darlings, and let us be as happy as we can." + +"But we're not very happy," we answered; and then we told her that +grandpapa and Mr. Truro were coming the next day, and that perhaps we +wouldn't be allowed to come to see her any more. She looked sorry, but +not very surprised. + +"We must hope the best," she said. "Mr. Truro is so kind, you say. Won't +_he_, perhaps, be able to get your grandpapa to let you come?" + +"Perhaps," we said. But it was only "perhaps." + +But Regina wouldn't let us be sad. She opened her basket, which was +filled with things she thought would please us, and we had our afternoon +luncheon, as Gerald called it, together. Then as we weren't much in the +humour for games, she sat and told us stories--such pretty ones, I wish +I could write some of them down, for I believe she made them up out of +her head--till, feeling afraid it was getting late, she looked at her +watch, and jumped up in a fright, like Cinderella again. + +"Darlings, darlings!" she cried, "I must go," and she kissed us very +lovingly, but very hurriedly. + +"And when are we to see you again?" + +Regina shook her head. + +"That is more for you to know than for me," she said. "We must leave it +this way--if you _can_ come again, you'll find some message from me, +and you can leave one for me, and then I'll come." + +"But listen," I said; "the other day you said you weren't sure that +_you_ could come, and to-day you didn't seem surprised that perhaps _we_ +can't come. Regina, tell me, did you know grandpapa was coming before we +did? _Are_ you a fairy?" + +She shook her head, laughing, but she would say nothing, and in another +moment she was gone. + +We sat still, talking, for some time after she had gone--we couldn't +help feeling dull and sad. We were so afraid of what grandpapa might +say. + +"It's a very good thing Mr. Truro's coming," said Tib. "It would have +been too dreadful to have had to tell grandpapa ourselves." + +"I don't see that," I said. "You speak as if we had done something very +naughty, that we should be ashamed of telling. I'm not a bit afraid of +telling grandpapa, in that way; _I'm_ only afraid for fear he should +forbid us ever to come to the old house again;" we had left off calling +it the palace, since Regina had explained it was really a house, and the +"_old_ house" sounded nice, somehow. + +"Well, yes," said Tib, "that's what I'm the most afraid of too, of +course." + +"And there's something we can't understand altogether," I went on. "Why +did grandpapa stop us knowing anybody here? I'm sure the people at the +Rectory would be kind to us, and I daresay there are other nice people. +Then, who is Regina? and how does she know about us? and whose house is +this? and why is it shut up? and----" I stopped, out of breath. + +"And who is the portrait? and why is it like her, and like me? And the +lady at the Rectory--the oldish lady, and the young one Mr. Markham +spoke of--who are they? Oh yes, there are just thousands of things we +don't understand. I don't think I shall ever wish for mysteries again," +said Tib, dolefully. "Just because Regina is so fond of us, and we are +so fond of her--just because of that you may be sure we shall never see +her again." + +At these words Gerald began to cry. I was half vexed with him, and half +sorry for him. + +"Don't cry, Gerald," I said; "though, all the same, Tib, I don't see why +you need always make the worst of things. It may be all right, Gerald +dear--perhaps grandpapa may not mind. And just think how nice it would +be to be able to have her to come to see us at Rosebuds!" + +Gerald began drying his eyes, for which purpose another little grimy +ball--this time blue and white--was brought into requisition. + +"I'm sure I love her the best of us all," he said, as a sort of apology. + +"You can't love her more than we do," said Tib and I, rather grumpily. + +Then we began to think perhaps we had better be going home. We had some +lessons still to do for Mr. Markham, and it must be near tea-time, +though we weren't very hungry, on account of the afternoon luncheon we +had had. + +We left the saloon with a lingering look at all, especially at the old +princess, as we now called her--our first friend, whom we felt we had +rather neglected of late. There she was, smiling as usual, with the +sweet, but slightly contemptuous smile she had always worn--as if she +knew herself to be above all foolish weaknesses and changeablenesses, +and could afford to smile at them amiably. + +"Good-bye, princess," I said. "I don't know if we shall ever see you +again, but if not, we thank you for your politeness to us, though we +can't pretend to say we love you as much as our new princess." + +"It isn't her fault, poor thing," added Tib, "she can't help being only +a picture instead of a living person. And, Gussie, she must have been a +living person once; I mean there must have been a person just like her, +and that person must have been very like Regina. Isn't it sad to think +that there's nothing left of her except this cold picture, always +smiling the same, whatever happens?" + +"It's no more sad about her than about any other picture," I said, rather +crossly. Sometimes I do get cross with Tib when she is sentimental. I'm +sure I don't know why--it _is_ ill-natured. "I wonder," I went on, more +eagerly, "I wonder if possibly she could be the portrait of the oldish +lady--when the oldish lady was young, you know, Tib, for she is so like +Regina." + +It was Tib's turn to snub _me_ now. + +"The portrait of _that_ lady," she said. "My goodness, Gussie! for it to +be her portrait she would need to be about a hundred and twenty years +old. Can't you tell that by the dress, and the _look_ of the picture?" + +"Well, never mind," I said. "We can't find out anything about her, so +it's no use squabbling. We must go, Tib; I'm sure it's late; and we +don't want to do anything that could vex nurse just as grandpapa's +coming, for you know he always asks her if we've been good." + +"Come along, then," said Tib. + +We walked slowly down the long passage and into the conservatory, where +everything looked just exactly the same as the first day we had seen it. + +"Oh dear, I am so unhappy!" said Gerald, again. "I've got a _feeling_ +that all the nice has finished." + +"Open the door quick, Gerald, or let me do it, and don't make things +worse by talking nonsense." + +Gerald turned to the door--the key was sticking in the lock, as I +said--Gerald always left it _after_ locking it. + +"Do be quick," said Tib, impatiently. + +Whether it was her hurrying him that made him awkward or jerky, or +whether it was just that something had gone wrong with the lock or the +key--you remember we had noticed it was stiffer than usual when we came +in--I can't say. But, however that may have been, this is what happened. +The key wouldn't turn in the lock! Gerald fumbled at it for some time, +then Tib and I got impatient. + +"What _is_ the matter?" said Tib. + +"What _are_ you doing?" said I; and we both ran forward, pushing poor +Gerald aside, and each trying to get hold of the key. We each took a +turn at it, like the first day, only now our flurry and fear made us +less cool and careful. It was no use; we pressed, and pulled, and +tugged, we took the key out, and rubbed it and cleaned it as if we had +been Bluebeard's wife, and put it back again to try afresh. No use! + +"I really think keys have got spirits in them sometimes," said Tib. +"They _are_ so contrary." + +And then, hot and worried, beginning to be frightened too, we looked at +our sore fingers, which the horrid key had bruised and scratched, and +asked ourselves what to do. + +Tib started forward again--she had spied a strong bit of stick in a +corner. + +"I believe it's only stiffness, after all," she said. "There _can't_ be +anything the matter with the key." + +She seized the stick--it _was_ a very stout one--ran it through the ring +of the key, and before Gerald and I really knew what she was doing, she +had grasped the two ends with her two hands, and was turning vigorously. + +"Ah! I told you so," she cried, as she felt that the stick _did_ turn, +"it only wanted some strength. But oh, Gussie! oh, Gerald!" she screamed +the next moment, "see, see!" + +She drew back a little--we did see--the key had _broken_, not turned! +the ring was still hanging on the stick; the useless end of the key +stuck out of the lock as if in mockery. + +"Oh, Tib!" I cried, for somehow one's first feeling always is to blame +some one, "why were you so hasty? Oh dear! what _shall_ we do?" + +Tib was too subdued to resent my blame. + +"It wouldn't turn before," she said meekly. "Perhaps we are no worse off +than before." + +"Yes, we are," I said angrily. "Then, at least, we could take the key +out and shout through the key-hole. Now we can't even do that," for I +had tried, and found that there was now no moving the key the least +little bit. There really was _nothing_ to be done. But we did not +realise that all at once. We set to work shouting and kicking on the +door, in hopes that somebody might be passing by the tangle, though +nothing was more unlikely. We climbed up on the shelves of the +conservatory, in hopes somebody might be in that garden--the garden +of the old house, as we now knew it to be. But very little was to be +seen--only some grass stretching towards a belt of trees, and no sign of +anybody--it wasn't till afterwards that we knew there _was_ another door +into the conservatory, concealed in a corner--a door for gardeners to +come in by, but it hadn't been used for many years, and the key was +lost, so the knowledge wouldn't have done us much good--and we gave up +that hope in despair. + +Then another idea struck us--we ran back to the saloon to try the door +by which Regina came in. If _possibly_ she hadn't locked it, we might +get into the house, and out through it, and so home. But no--the great +double doors were as firm as a rock. Regina had locked them only too +securely! + +"She might have left it unlocked," we said, in a sort of unreasonable +rage; "she might have thought perhaps we might need to get out this +way." And then we remembered that she had been used to see us coming +in and out quite easily. She had had no reason for any misgiving. + +"But there may be some one in the house," said Tib. So again we set to +work calling, and knocking, and banging at the doors. In vain--in vain! +We were completely locked in, and evidently there was no one near enough +to hear us. + +Tired out at last, we sat down, huddled together, on one of the +arm-chairs, where we had sat so happily with Regina. + +"We must stay all night," I said. + +"Till the dusting person comes in the morning," said Tib. + +"Any way, it's a good thing we had some afternoon luncheon," said +Gerald, though even this consoling reflection did not prevent the tears +rolling down his poor fat cheeks. + +We didn't as yet feel hungry--nor did we feel exactly frightened, though +it did begin to feel "eerie." But very soon we felt very cold. It is +strange how cold an unused room gets to feel as soon as the bright +daylight goes. We had our jackets on, fortunately, and we took some of +the linen covers off the chairs, and wrapped them round us, so that we +looked like ghosts or dancing dervishes. And thus enveloped, we huddled +together as close as we could. + +And the last thing we saw as the light faded, so that everything in the +room grew dim and shadowy, was the calmly smiling face of the "old +princess" up above us on the wall. + +I never see it now without remembering that strange evening. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +BROTHER AND SISTER. + + "For this relief, much thanks."--_Hamlet._ + + +My story is getting rather difficult to manage now. Indeed, I don't +quite see how to do. I _think_, if I had known how long it would be, and +what a lot of half-holidays I should have to stay in to write it, I +_think_ I would never have begun it. But I won't be laughed at for +"beginning, and not ending." And if I get it rather muddley, and can't +do it the way authors do who know how to plan stories, and write them so +that they seem all to come of themselves, like flowers growing, you good +people, whoever you are, that come to read it must forgive me and +believe I did my best. + +But I can't go on regularly the "I" way now. That is what puzzles me. I +have to be, as it were, in three places at once. First of all--we three +are all locked up in the old house now--I must tell you what was +happening at Rosebuds. + +Nurse didn't miss us for a good while; she was busy helping Mrs. Munt, +as there was always a good deal of fuss when grandpapa was expected. And +just as they were getting things pretty ready, and nurse _would_ have +begun seeing about our tea, up comes a man from the telegraph office at +Welford with the usual brown envelope and pink paper inside, addressed +to Mrs. Munt, to say that grandpapa was coming _that_ evening, would be +there about eight o'clock. Immediately, of course, all the bustle and +fuss began over again, only twice as bad; for Mrs. Munt had to get a +dinner ready all in a hurry, and to send one running this way and +another that way for all the things needed. Nurse went with her to the +kitchen, calling to Fanny to take up our tea, and see that we got it +properly; you can understand that, just thinking of us as at play in the +garden, it never occurred to nurse to ask if we were in, or to feel the +least anxious. Fanny, on her side, wasn't at all given to being anxious +about anything except her own bonnets and caps, so she merely set the +tea, and then, "supposing" we were up stairs, and would come down when +we heard the bell, off she went to her own room and her bonnets. + +But the tea got cold in the teapot, the bread-and-butter was untouched, +the honey was at the disposal of all the flies who chose to sip it--we +three never came! And when nurse, after helping Mrs. Munt till the two +old bodies were satisfied that all would be right, trotted up to the +schoolroom to put _us_ in order next, there was no one to be seen! Just +at first, I fancy, she was more vexed than frightened. + +"Dear, dear!" says I (this is nurse, you understand, telling it over to +me afterwards), "where can they be, the naughty children? But I wasn't +not to say afraid of anything wrong. I called Fanny, idle girl that she +is, and sent her out into the garden to look for you, never doubting but +that in two minutes she'd be back with you all." + +But when Fanny, after considerably more than two minutes, reappeared +with the news that we were nowhere to be seen, then poor nurse was +dreadfully upset. She ran to Mrs. Munt, and the two trotted everywhere +about the grounds, giving the alarm to the gardener and his boy, who +joined them in the search. + +It was getting near the time for grandpapa's arrival. The dog-cart had +started for the station before our absence had been discovered, and to +add to her own great anxiety, nurse had the fear of grandpapa's driving +in every moment and demanding what was the matter. It must really have +been a terrible evening for both nurse and Mrs. Munt; and as time passed +and grandpapa did not come, their fear of his displeasure gave way to +the wish that he were there to advise and direct them what to do. + +They had exhausted all their energies when at last--about nine +o'clock--the dog-cart appeared with him. He had missed the train which +stopped at our little station, and had come on by the next--an express, +by which he was obliged to get out at Welford. So he had telegraphed to +the groom to drive on, and meet him there instead. + +Mrs. Munt met him at the door; a moment before, she had been at the +gate, but when she heard the dog-cart approaching, she hurried back to +the house. Not even her fears of every kind could set aside her ideas of +what was proper and respectful. + +"God grant Mr. Truro may be with master!" she said to herself, and +her heart sank still lower when she saw that grandpapa was alone. + +"Good evening, Mrs. Munt," he said, as he got down; "you will have been +wondering what has become of me," and then he quickly explained what had +happened. But receiving no distinct reply, he looked at her, and saw +that she was crying. + +"What's the matter?" he said. "Are the children ill?" + +"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed, "oh, my dear master, I only wish I knew!" and +then she told him of our strange disappearance. + +He listened, but for some time he could not believe it was quite as she +said. + +"They are hiding somewhere to trick you, you may be sure," he said. + +"But they'd never keep it up so long, sir," she replied. "Nine o'clock +at night--their bedtime, and had nothing to eat since their dinner at +one. Oh no, sir--I wish I could think it--but it's not in the nature of +children to keep it up so long. And not of those dear children: they'd +have come out wherever they were, on hearing poor nurse and me +a-praying and a-begging of them to come out." + +Grandpapa did not speak, but Mrs. Munt saw that he began to take it +seriously. He would not go into the house till every corner of the +grounds had again been searched under his own eye. And not the grounds +only, but the house; and when at last there was nowhere else to look, +and grandpapa had shouted to us in every tone--scolding, appealing, +entreating--fancy him entreating--us to give some sign of life, +promising not to be angry, never again to be vexed with us whatever we +did, if we would but answer: when _everywhere_ had been searched, and +everything said and done that could be thought of, poor grandpapa, +looking quite old and shaky all of a sudden, sat down by the table in +the dining-room, where his dinner was so neatly set out, and buried his +face in his hands. + +It was terrible, both nurse and the old housekeeper told us--terrible to +see the cold, strong man so overcome, and to hear what he murmured to +himself. + +"All that I had left--all," he said. "My own children, for she was as my +daughter to me, and my poor boy--one gone, one to have deceived me. And +now, in my old age, these little creatures whom I was learning to love! +Is it my fault? Was I too harsh to them? Did I neglect them? Why is it +that all belonging to me seem doomed in some way?" + +And then he raised his poor white face, and told what he was thinking. + +"Munt," he said, abruptly, "I have refused to allow the idea in my +mind--but it must be the truth. I have tried not to entertain it, for +I knew if it were the case, there was nothing to be done. It is so +dreadfully deep----" and he gave a little shudder. "They must have +fallen into the pits at the corner of the Old House fields. I had a +presentiment of it from their first coming here. Tell the man to fetch +the ropes--there must be the right thing in the village, for cows have +fallen in before now; those pools must be dragged." + +Mrs. Munt gave a little scream. Then she grew quiet again. + +"No, sir," she said, "the dear children are too obedient for that. They +remembered what you said to them about not going to those pits, and they +repeated their promise to nurse only a day or two ago." + +Grandpapa looked up with a gleam of hope. But it faded again, and he +only repeated the words-- + +"Those pools must be dragged. Send the men. I can do no more." + +Then he half fell back upon his chair, and stayed thus--almost +unconscious, Mrs. Munt thinks--while she went away to obey his orders, +till---- + +But now I must take up another end of the story. + +The family at the Rectory went early to bed as a rule, even when they +had visitors with them. This eventful evening they and their two +visitors were just standing about the drawing-room, preparing to say +good-night and to light their bed-room candles, when they were startled +by a loud violent ringing at the door. + +"Dear me," said they all, "what can that be? So late, too; it is past +ten." + +"Some one ill, and wanting me, possibly," said the rector, and he went +out to the hall, where the footman was already at the door, leaving the +four ladies--his mother-in-law, and Mrs. Lauriston, his wife, and the +two visitors--looking at each other rather startledly. Still, there +was no reason to expect anything wrong--all the young Lauristons were +upstairs safe in bed their mother remembered with satisfaction. + +They heard voices at the door--then the rector came back, looking +shocked and troubled. + +"I must go out," he said; "a sad, a terribly sad thing is supposed to +have happened." + +"Where? Any of our people?" exclaimed his wife. + +Mr. Lauriston hesitated--he glanced at the two stranger ladies--at the +elder one especially--the lady Tib and I had seen from the Rectory gate. + +"You must hear it sooner or later," he said; "I'm very sorry to have +to tell it. It is at--at Rosebuds--the children there, poor Gerald's +children--are missing, and it is feared they have fallen into the +pits--near--near your house, Mrs. Mowbray. They have sent to me for the +things to drag with." (There was a pond almost big enough to be called a +little lake in the Rectory grounds: that was how they had ropes there.) + +Mrs. Mowbray gave a scream. + +"The children--_drowned_!" she cried in an agony. "Oh, Edith! oh, +William! if it is so, it is my fault. I should not have left these pits +to be filled up by Farmer Jackman when he buys the place. The moment I +knew the children were at Rosebuds, _I_ should have done it. Oh God! +it is too awful, and too cruel--just when I was beginning, faintly +beginning, to hope." + +She seemed as if she were going to faint. But her daughter, _our_ +Regina, our dear fairy, darted from the room, calling out as she did +so-- + +"Wait a moment, dear mamma. Don't be so miserable. It may be a mistake." + +She rushed to the hall, where stood the Rectory servants in a group, and +Barstow, grandpapa's very spruce, stuck-up London groom, who had come +to ask for the ropes, with a very solemn face, but very proud, all the +same, to be the centre of information. Regina seized hold of him by the +coat collar, I believe; he told nurse afterwards that the young lady +shook him, shook him hard, "as if it was all _my_ fault," he said to +nurse. + +"Leave off chattering and gossiping," she said, for our princess can be +very determined when she likes, "and attend to me. Are the children +_known_ to be in the pool? Were they seen near there? or heard? or how +is it?" + +"Oh no, bless you, Miss," said Barstow, shaking himself free rather +resentfully. "It's only that they're not to be found nowhere else. +They've been out a-playing in the garden, as everybody thought, since +two or three o'clock, and they've never come home, and they're nowhere +to be found; and my master--Gerald Ansdell, Esq., M.P., if you please, +Miss,"--for Regina and all the Rectory folk were perfect strangers to +him "my master has got it in his head that the young ladies and Master +Gerald is--has--must be drowned, Miss, to speak plain." + +Regina dashed back to the drawing-room. + +"Mamma darling, it's all right. Mr. Lauriston, Mrs. Lauriston, all of +you, help me to explain. _I_ know where the children are--they're locked +in, in the Old House--that's all that's wrong--I'm sure of it. It was +a little plan of Charles Truro's and mine; we thought if I got to know +the dear little things it might lead to something--to a reconciliation. +They had found their way there by themselves, and told him about it. But +I must go at once to let them out, the poor darlings. And, mamma, mamma, +take courage--seize the moment. While I fetch them, you go to Uncle +Ansdell and tell him the good news. You may never have such a chance +again. Don't you think so, Mr. Lauriston--you who know the whole +story--oh, do say you think she should do it?" and Regina wrung her +hands in her eagerness. + +It took a little cross-questioning to make them understand all; but +Regina got her way. Barstow, to keep him quiet, was allowed to go off +with the gardener to get the drags, and in less time than you would have +thought it possible they all set off--Mr. Lauriston, Regina, and her +mother. But at the gate of Rosebuds they separated. Regina hurried on +down the lane with the rector, her mother with trembling, shaking +steps, went in and made her way up to the porch. + +The front door stood open; in the confusion and excitement nobody had +thought of closing it. + +Grandpapa--poor grandpapa--was sitting as Mrs. Munt had left him when +she went off to give orders about dragging the pools. A little noise, +the door softly opening and closing again, made him look up. A tall +figure, all dressed in black, with a white, sweet, anxious face and blue +eyes, like Tib's and grandpapa's own, streaming with tears, stood beside +him. He stared at it half stupefied. I think he thought he was dreaming. +But it spoke. + +"Brother, dear, dear brother, it is I. Do you know me--will you forgive +me at last? Oh, dear, dear brother, forgive me." + +He gazed at her as if he did not see her. + +"I do not know why you have come," he said. "Do you know what has +happened? My children--poor Gerald's children--are drowned, all of them. +I am quite alone in the world." + +"No, no," she cried, "they are not drowned. They will be here in a few +minutes. It was that gave me courage to come--to bring you the good +news. Gerald, for _their_ sake, for the dear children's sake, won't you +at last forgive me and let me help you with them? Oh, I will love them +so if you will let me. Brother, say quick before they come--say you will +forgive me at last. I have so suffered, I have been punished so long. +Brother, say you forgive your poor Queenie." + +She half knelt, half sank down beside him--all I am writing is from +what Regina has told me, and her mother herself told her--grandpapa +stretched out his arms, and she flung herself into them. + +"Queenie, my little Queenie," he said, "_you_ have brought me the good +news--is it true, quite true?" + +Auntie--that is, of course, what she is to us--auntie was almost +frightened. He was so gentle, so clinging, and unlike his usual cold +decided self. And a sort of terror went through her for a moment, +"Suppose it didn't turn out to be true that we were safe." + +"I should never forgive myself, _never_," she thought, "if I have raised +his hopes only for them to be dashed again;" and even while she went on +repeating that it was true, he would see us directly, she trembled. + +But there came a noise--a very slight, distant sound at first--of many +voices and steps approaching. Auntie's ears are quick, and that evening +they were quicker than usual, even. She heard it ever so far off, long +before grandpapa heard anything. And she listened, trembling. Were the +voices cheerful?--_was_ it all right? + +I have so often heard all the story of that evening--of other people's +part of it, I mean--that I seem to be able to see it all for myself as +it must have looked to them. I can so picture auntie standing there, +scarcely daring to breathe in her anxiety to hear! And the first thing +that quite reassured her was Regina's voice speaking in a pitying, +petting, yet laughing way to Gerald. + +"My poor old man! no one will be vexed with you for crying, for, as you +say, you _are_ only seven years old." _Of course_, in Gerald's troubles +he had begun his old cry! + +And in another moment the dining-room door opened and a queer-looking +group appeared. There was Regina in a shawl thrown over her head, she +had not waited to put on her hat; there was Mr. Lauriston and two or +three gardeners and people we had gathered on the way--for, of course, +we had come round by the proper entrance to the Old House, and had +found them all at the pit--and in the middle of the crowd three very +dishevelled-looking little figures, with eyes swollen with crying, and +now blinking at the sudden light, who rushed forward to grandpapa, +calling out all together-- + +"Oh! dear grandpapa, please forgive us. We didn't mean to disobey you." + +And before we knew where we were he had us all in his arms at once, and +he was hugging us as he had never hugged us before. + +"My children," he said, "my dear little children." + +But when he looked up and saw Regina, he really did start. + +"Is it----?" he began, and then he looked round at auntie. "It is +yourself over again," he said, "it is you, Queenie--as I last saw you." + +Fancy that; fancy the years and years that had gone by since they had +met! How very, very strange it must have seemed. + +But auntie explained who Regina was, and then grandpapa kissed her too, +with a curious wistful look in his eyes. And then came hurrying in nurse +and Mrs. Munt, whom the good news of our return had just reached, and we +were bundled off to bed, where we each had some nice hot stuff to drink, +and Regina explained all the queer story to the two old servants, while +down stairs grandpapa and auntie were together alone. And all that +_they_ had to tell and ask of course we would never expect to hear, but +still, we had enough told to us to make all that had puzzled us plain, +and to clear away all remains of our family "mystery." + +This I will tell you in the next chapter. And I will also explain to you +how Regina had come to know of our having found our way into the Old +House, the hopes that this had put into her head--hopes which had been +more than fulfilled, thanks to the accident with the key, which had so +strangely turned to good. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +THE STORY OF THE OLD HOUSE. + + "Old house! that time hath deigned to spare, + 'Mid sunny slopes and gardens fair."--SIGOURNEY. + + +It all seemed like a dream the next morning. We slept much later than +usual, for we were quite tired out. I can never even now think of that +evening--shut up in the dark in the big bare room--without a sort of +shudder. It really was dreadful: we were so cold that when we did +fall asleep it was only to wake again with a start to find ourselves +shivering and aching. And it was frightening, too: though we squeezed +together as close as we could, we felt dreadfully alone. And alone we +really were; for, as we understood afterwards, there was nobody at all +in the Old House. The person who dusted it was the woman who lived at +the lodge, and only came up in the mornings. Regina had taken her a +little into her confidence. The day she hurried away when a bell rang, +it was the woman ringing to let her know the Rectory pony-carriage was +coming up the lane. Auntie knew that Regina came to the Old House, but +she thought it was just to wander about the garden, and that day she had +promised to call for her at the lodge. For the Old House belonged to +auntie: it had belonged to the Mowbrays for a very, very great many +years. And this brings me to the story of the long-ago troubles which we +were told--the story which explained everything which had puzzled us. + +It was Mrs. Munt who told it us. She came into our room--Tib's and my +room--that morning before we were up--we had had our breakfast in +bed--and sat down between our cots. + +"My dears," she began, "your dear grandpapa and--and my dear lady, Mrs. +Mowbray, Miss Queenie as was--they have asked me to tell you something +of the past, so that you may understand all. It is a great honour they +have done me, and I will endeavour to show that I feel it such. But oh," +and here she fairly broke down, "this is a happy, a blessed day--to see +them at one again, and oh, my dears, it was a happy day that brought +you to Rosebuds, for all the anguish of heart of Mrs. Liddy and myself +last night, we shall never but be thankful to the over-ruling powers as +directed the finding of the key, and your innocent minds to the Old +House." + +At this point Mrs. Munt stopped. It was a sort of little address which +she thought it her duty to make, and after this, she went straight on. + +"It is a many years ago," she said, "that it all happened. When I first +came to Rosebuds as a young girl to help in the cooking, there was +living here your grandpapa, then a little boy of ten, and his brother +Baldwin, and Miss Mary, with their mother, and their father, who was on +the point of going abroad with his regiment. Not long after he left, +Miss Regina was born; then came the news of your great-grandpapa's +death, and the shock affected your great-grandmamma so much that she +never recovered it. She died a year or two after, Master Baldwin being +by that time preparing for the army, for he was five years older than +Master Gerald, and Miss Mary older than he. Miss Mary took charge of +things with a lady to help her. You can fancy that everybody was devoted +to Miss Regina, Master Gerald especially. Some years later, Ansdell +Friars came to Master Baldwin, by his uncle's death. He came home from +time to time, and we used to spend a part of the year there, but it +never seemed home to us, like Rosebuds. Your grandpapa married young--he +was about twenty-four, and Miss Queenie was thirteen. Poor Miss Mary +died the year before his marriage; you have seen her tomb at Ansdell, +and it seemed well to him to marry, to have a lady at the head of +things, him having so much charge like, for his brother. And your papa +was born when Miss Queenie was about fifteen. Your grandpapa's marriage +was a very happy one; Mrs. Ansdell was a very sweet lady, and suited him +well. She had not half the spirit nor the cleverness of Miss Queenie, +and she gave in to her husband, and she joined with him in thinking +there never was so beautiful a creature as Miss Queenie. How they did +spoil her! Poor Master Gerald--your papa, my dears, seemed nobody +and nothing in the family, compared with his auntie, though he was a +dear little boy. Well, to explain--next door to Rosebuds, as you now +understand, is the Old House. It is a far finer and larger place than +this, and it has always belonged to the Mowbrays, who are cousins of +the Ansdells, by a Miss Regina Mowbray having married an Ansdell--your +grandpapa's grandmother she was, as well as I can remember. It is her +picture that hangs in the big drawing-room--" + +"The old princess!" we exclaimed, at which Mrs. Munt smiled--"and," she +went on, "it is from her, they always say, that comes the beauty--the +dark hair and blue eyes, the Ansdells are, so to say, proud of. +Well,"--Mrs. Munt here hurried on a little, I think she thought it +not good for us to say much about family beauty; it didn't matter to +_me_, with my shaggy light hair, and browny-greeny eyes, but Tib is +different--"the families at the two houses were very intimate--that door +in the wall was made in the Old House conservatory as a short cut for +the young ladies to run in and out by--they and the rectory family, this +Mr. Lauriston's uncle it was then, but this one was a great deal there, +were all most friendly. At the Old House there were some sisters--one is +living still, being Mr. Truro's mother--and two brothers. The eldest +brother _was_ a nice gentleman, just everything a gentleman should be, +and your grandpapa was delighted when he spoke to him for Miss Queenie. +Miss Queenie laughed and made fun of it, but in the end she said 'yes,' +and all would have been well--for he was a gentleman no woman could have +failed to care for as a husband--had not the younger brother come home +on leave. He had not seen Miss Queenie since she was grown up, for he +was a sailor, and had been long away. He was handsome, and had a taking +way with him--a sort of dash about him, and he was selfish and false. He +fell in love with her, and persuaded her that she had fallen in love +with him, and rather than be open about it, bad as it was to have lured +her away from his brother, he made it worse by getting her to run away +with him, and not let any one know where they were, till he wrote to +say they were married. My dears, from that day till yesterday, your +grandpapa and she never met again." + +"Was he so angry?" we asked. + +"Anger is no word for it. He was turned to stone to her. The +deceitfulness--that was always his cry. Poor Mr. John Mowbray--his great +friend, the one who had really the most to complain of, was far gentler, +though it broke his heart. He never married, and at his death, two years +ago, all came to your auntie as his brother's widow, for Mr. Conrad, the +brother, was dead. That is how the Old House is now your auntie's, but +she has never lived there. She could not bear it, seeing her brother +would not forgive her, and she had made up her mind to sell it, and came +to stay at the Rectory to get it all arranged. It was partly hearing it +was going to be sold, made your grandpapa think of coming here again +at last--he thought it was all quite settled, and no fear of any one +coming about. For he has not even had any friendliness with the Rectory +folk all these years; the old rector spoke to him before he died, and +begged him to forgive Miss Queenie, but it only made him harder. He +would never hear her name--he scored it out wherever he came across it +in a book--" + +"Oh, yes, we saw that in London," we interrupted. + +"_Nothing_," continued Mrs. Munt, "but the sight of her poor, sweet, +worn face would have changed him, and to think that _she_ should have +been the one to tell him the good news last night--it is indeed +wonderful how it has come about." + +"Was auntie very unhappy with that man--the one she married?" asked Tib +in a low voice. Mrs. Munt looked sad and grave. + +"My dears," she said, solemnly, "no good comes of ill-doing. The man who +deceived his kind brother, who set himself to wile a girl away from her +truest and best friends, was not the man to make a good husband. She +must have suffered more than you--or we, maybe--could understand. But it +is past, and you need never think of it again, except as a warning. Your +dear auntie may tell you more herself as you grow older. But for me, I +think I have done my part; and, indeed, I could almost feel the work of +my life is near its end now I have lived to see my dear master and his +best-loved sister united again," and poor Mrs. Munt wiped her eyes as +she kissed us, and said we might get up now--we were to go to the +Rectory to luncheon. + +You will be glad to hear that she is living still, and likely to live +for many peaceful years to come. + +We were, of course, very much interested in all she had told us. It took +some time to get it quite straight and clear in our heads, especially as +we felt that we should not much like to talk over the saddest parts of +it with any one but ourselves: not even with Regina, for, of course, the +man who had brought so much misery to them all--Mr. Conrad Mowbray--was +her father (I am not going to let her read this last chapter if I can +help it); and even about dear auntie, we felt it would not be kind to +talk about it to Regina--though _now_ I can scarcely fancy even Regina +herself feeling more tender about anything and everything to do with her +mother than Tib and I, who are really only her grandnieces, do. + +We were at the same time in a hurry to get dressed, and go down stairs, +and yet a little afraid. + +"Last night I wasn't afraid of grandpapa," said Tib; "we seemed all +worked up, so that only the _realest_ feelings mattered. Little top +feelings, like being shy and all that, seemed pushed away." + +I didn't answer for a moment. I was thinking over what she said. + +"Do you think our being afraid of grandpapa and fancying we don't love +him is only a top feeling after all?" I said. + +"Yes," said Tib, "I do. Anyway, _I'm_ going to love him now. Perhaps, if +he has so many to love him now--auntie and Regina, and you and me--all +at once, the lot of it will make up for his having had so little all +these years. Things come like that sometimes, I suppose." + +While we were talking--we took a good while to dress, for we wanted to +be very neat to go to the Rectory--there came a tap at the door, and in +walked Gerald, as cool as a cucumber. + +"I'm ready," he said, and indeed one could see by the scrubby look of +his cheeks that he had had an extra amount of soap. "I've got my best +suit on to go to the Rectory." + +"But, Gerald," said Tib, "don't you want to hear all about how it's all +been. Gussie and I can tell you," for I forgot to say that Mrs. Munt had +told us we had better explain a little to him. "Don't you want to know +why the Old House that we called the palace was shut up, and how it +comes to be auntie's, and how she is our auntie, and--" + +"No," interrupted Gerald. "I don't want to know anything. It puzzles me. +I'm only seven years old." + +We looked at him in astonishment. Then we fairly burst out laughing. + +"I never saw such a boy," said Tib. "You're so lazy, Gerald, you won't +even let your mind work enough to understand about your own family." + +"I do understand all I need," said Gerald; "I understand that we've got +an auntie, and that she's very kind, and that Regina is a cousin, and +she's very nice too--so nice that I'm still going to think she's a +fairy. That's what I've settled, and I think it's quite enough when I'm +only seven." + +And from that day to this I have never heard him express any curiosity +or make any inquiries as to all that had happened. I fancy Gerald will +get through life comfortably--though to do him justice he is working +very well at school, and doesn't seem to be considered lazy at all. + +Tib and I had still enough questions to ask to make up for his not +asking any. We were in a fever to see Regina, and very glad when Gerald +ran up stairs again to say that she had just driven over in the +Lauristons' pony-carriage to fetch us, and was waiting downstairs, and +we hurried down as fast as we could. + +"But what about grandpapa?" said Tib, as we got to the first landing. +"Should we not go to say good morning or something to him?" + +I hesitated, but just at that moment we heard his voice. He was standing +in the porch talking to Regina. You can't think how funny it seemed. +When he heard us he came into the hall and met us at the foot of the +stairs. Then he kissed us each, in a way he had never kissed us before. +It was like saying, "You understand all now. Let us begin a new life +together;" though his _said_ words were only, "Good morning, my dear +children. Are you all quite well and not tired now?" + +"Quite well, thank you, dear grandpapa," and I am sure he understood +"between the lines," as people say of a letter meaning more than it +shows. + +"I wish you could come with us, Uncle Gerald," said Regina, as we were +driving off. + +"Thank you, my dear, but I am very busy," he said. There was a look in +his eyes to her that I had never seen before. + +"But Charlie will be here this afternoon, and he does help you, doesn't +he?" she said. + +"Very much," grandpapa replied. + +We looked back at him, standing there in the doorway. + +"Grandpapa is changed since last night," said Tib. + +"How?" said Regina, anxiously. "You don't think he's ill?" + +"No," said Tib, "though he does look very pale. But his face seems older +and _yet_ younger. It has got a sort of softer look, as if at last he +wasn't going to fight against himself anymore, but that it has tired +him." + +"Yes," said Regina, "I understand. Then _you_ understand now--you and +Gussie?" + +"Yes," we answered. "Mrs. Munt has told us a great deal. But there are +some things only you can tell us, and we want dreadfully to ask you." + +"Fire away," said Regina, and she did so laugh when we didn't understand +her; for, of course, though she had never had any brothers or sisters, +she hadn't lived the shut-up way we had done. + +"We want to know," we began, "how you knew about us going to the--the +Old House, and how you knew our names and about us altogether." + +"It was Charlie Truro that told me about you," she said. "He is my +cousin as much--no, a good deal more--than he is yours, and we have +always been a great deal together. He has known what a terrible sorrow +it was to mamma to be estranged from her only brother, and he and I have +often planned what we could do. We were very glad when Uncle Gerald +agreed to take him as a sort of secretary for a while--it seemed a sort +of beginning." + +"I wonder grandpapa ever did," I said. "Wasn't it rather a wonder? For +he knew he was a near cousin of yours, I suppose?" + +"Yes," said Regina, "but it came about naturally enough, through some +friends who had no connection with us. And once he had seen Charlie, +Uncle Gerald seems to have taken a fancy to him. We came down here to +stay at the Rectory, not knowing any one was at Rosebuds. Your coming +was kept very quiet. Then Charlie told us of it, when he wrote, and +when he came down here he managed to come to see us one day--a Sunday it +was--at the Rectory, and told us all about you. And to me, though to no +one else, he told of your funny trouble, about having got into the Old +House and wondering if it was naughty, and then we planned together--he +and I--that I should meet you there. I don't know exactly what I hoped +for--I think Charlie had a vague idea that some day Uncle Gerald might +see me, and that--with me being so like mamma--it might do some good. +But we hadn't fixed anything, we meant to talk it all over the next time +he came--to-day, that is. He little thought he would find it all done +when he came." + +"Won't he be surprised!" I said. + +"Mamma sent him a telegram this morning," she said. "He deserved it." + +But by this time we were at the Rectory. + +We couldn't help feeling rather shy; we had really never been out +anywhere before except once, in London, when we had gone to have tea +with a niece of nurse's, who had a shop in one of the big streets, and +we had tea in the parlour behind. So that was _quite_ different, of +course. At the Rectory it was very nice except for our being shy. But +after luncheon, when we went out into the garden with auntie, she soon +sent away the shyness. She was just as kind and understanding as she +could be, as she has been ever since--such a _perfect_ auntie that our +only wonder now is how we ever did without her all those years. + +We had to tell her all _our_ story over again, all from the beginning of +grandpapa's telling us we were to come to Rosebuds, and the book with +the name scored through; we _had_ to tell her, though we were afraid of +making her cry, down to our finding the key and getting into the house, +and the old princess, and the new princess, and all. She asked us +questions, too, about Ansdell Friars, and in what ways it was changed +since she had seen it. + +"I should like to see it again," she said; "though it would never seem +as much home to me as here," and she sighed a little. + +"But you're not going away from here now, auntie," we said, "You're not +going to sell the Old House?" + +Auntie smiled. + +"I hope not," she said. "They all think I am in no way bound to Jackman. +Indeed, it was his haggling so about the price that brought me down here +this summer. But one thing I have already given orders for: those horrid +pools are to be filled up at once. I won't have dear Gerald's peace of +mind disturbed by any anxiety _I_ can do away with." + +We stared--it wasn't for a minute or two that we understood whom she was +talking of. It was so funny to hear grandpapa spoken of as "Gerald"--and +when we found out whom she meant, we all burst out laughing. And while +we were still laughing we heard wheels, and there was Mr. Truro, who had +looked in for a moment on his way from the station. I don't think I ever +saw any one's face look so happy and pleased as his did! + +We all went back together to Rosebuds. Auntie and Regina said they were +going to have afternoon tea with grandpapa, and you don't know how nice +it looked, all neatly put out in the pretty old drawing-room, and poor +auntie kept giving little cries of mixed pleasure and pain as she +recognised one old friend after another among the china and the silver, +and even the _cakes_, which were a secret of Mrs. Munt's that no one +could make but herself. + +And after tea we had a great treat. Auntie persuaded grandpapa that the +air would do him good, and so she coaxed him out into the garden and +then down the lane, and so on into the Old House grounds. And then she +and Regina took us all over it--"It is best to get over the first seeing +it again at once," I heard auntie whisper to grandpapa, "and the +children's pleasure will make it seem different." + +It _is_ such a beautiful old house. I could write almost another book +about it, and it was so strange to get into the big drawing-room by the +double doors through which Regina used to disappear, to see our old +princess smiling down at us in our happiness just exactly as she had +done in our trouble! + +Poor old, ever young princess! We shall always love you, but nothing, +_nothing_ like our own dear bright living fairy who has brought such new +joy and good into our lives. We have seldom been parted from her and +her mother since that day; we are almost always together, grandpapa +and auntie and Regina and we children, and very often Mr. Truro too. +Grandpapa says he is getting very old, but he _really_ doesn't look so, +and even when he _does_ get "very old," we shall all only love him the +better. + + +THE END. + + +RICHARD CLAY AND SONS, LONDON AND BUNGAY. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Palace in the Garden, by Mary Louisa Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PALACE IN THE GARDEN *** + +***** This file should be named 36431.txt or 36431.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/4/3/36431/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Canada Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/36431.zip b/36431.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..af24e07 --- /dev/null +++ b/36431.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d422b21 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #36431 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/36431) |
