29 files changed, 0 insertions, 9452 deletions

diff --git a/48304-rst/48304-rst.rst b/48304-rst/48304-rst.rst
deleted file mode 100644
index 1f46907..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/48304-rst.rst
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,9452 +0,0 @@
-.. -*- encoding: utf-8 -*-

-

-.. meta::

-   :PG.Id: 48304

-   :PG.Title: The Family at Misrule

-   :PG.Released: 2015-02-18

-   :PG.Rights: Public Domain

-   :PG.Producer: Al Haines

-   :DC.Creator: Ethel Turner

-   :MARCREL.ill: \A. \J. Johnson

-   :DC.Title: The Family at Misrule

-   :DC.Language: en

-   :DC.Created: 1895

-   :coverpage: images/img-cover.jpg

-

-=====================

-THE FAMILY AT MISRULE

-=====================

-

-.. clearpage::

-

-.. pgheader::

-

-.. container:: titlepage white-space-pre-line

-

-   .. vspace:: 4

-

-   .. class:: xx-large center bold

-

-      THE FAMILY AT MISRULE.

-

-   .. vspace:: 2

-

-   .. class:: center medium

-

-      BY

-

-   .. class:: center large

-

-      ETHEL TURNER,

-

-   .. class:: center small

-

-      AUTHOR OF

-      "SEVEN LITTLE AUSTRALIANS," "THE STORY OF A BABY," ETC

-

-   .. vspace:: 3

-

-   .. class:: small white-space-pre-line

-

-      "Ah that spring should vanish with the Rose!

-      That youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close!"

-      \            THE RUBÁIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYÁM.

-

-   .. vspace:: 1

-

-   .. class:: small white-space-pre-line

-

-      "To youth the greatest reverence is due."

-      \                                        JUVENAL.

-

-   .. vspace:: 3

-

-   .. class:: center medium

-

-      *WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY A. J. JOHNSON.*

-

-   .. vspace:: 3

-

-   .. class:: center medium

-

-      LONDON:

-      WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED,

-      WARWICK HOUSE, SALISBURY SQUARE, E.C.

-      NEW YORK AND MELBOURNE.

-

-   .. vspace:: 4

-

-.. container:: dedication white-space-pre-line

-

-   .. class:: center medium

-

-      TO

-      CHARLES COPE,

-      MY STEPFATHER AND FRIEND

-

-   .. class:: left medium small

-

-      E. S. T.,

-      LINDFIELD, SYDNEY.

-

-   .. vspace:: 4

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CONTENTS.

-

-.. class:: noindent small

-

-   CHAP.

-

-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line

-

-I.  `PICKING UP THREADS`_

-II.  `SCHOOL TROUBLES`_

-III.  `A PASSAGE-AT-ARMS`_

-IV.  `A SUMMER'S DAY`_

-V.  `BETWEEN A DREAM AND A DREAM`_

-VI.  `TO-MORROW`_

-VII.  `A LITTLE MAID-ERRANT`_

-VIII.  `ONE PARTICULAR EVENING`_

-IX.  `THAT MISCHIEVOUS CUPID`_

-X.  `NEEDLES AND PINS`_

-XI.  `A DAY IN SYDNEY`_

-XII.  `THREE COURSES ONE SHILLING`_

-XIII.  `PARNASSUS AND PUDDINGS`_

-XIV.  `MUSHROOMS`_

-XV.  `THE GOVERNMENT OF MEG`_

-XVI.  `MORE MUTINY`_

-XVII.  `A DINNER PARTY`_

-XVIII.  `"HOW GOOD YOU OUGHT TO BE!"`_

-XIX.  `HEADACHE AND HEARTACHE`_

-XX.  `MY LITTLE ONE DAUGHTER`_

-XXI.  `THE SEVENTH DAY`_

-XXII.  `AMARANTH OR ASPHODEL`_

-XXIII.  `LITTLE FAITHFUL MEG`_

-XXIV.  `"IN THE MIDNIGHT, IN THE SILENCE OF THE SLEEP-TIME"`_

-XXV.  `HERE ENDETH`_

-

-.. vspace:: 3

-

-.. figure:: images/img-008.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: Contents tailpiece

-

-   Contents tailpiece

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`PICKING UP THREADS`:

-

-.. class:: center x-large bold

-

-   THE FAMILY AT MISRULE.

-

-.. vspace:: 3

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER I.

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   PICKING UP THREADS.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: center medium 

-

-   "Should auld acquaintance be forgot?"

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-There was discord at Misrule.

-

-Nell, in some mysterious way, had let down

-a muslin frock of last season till it reached her

-ankles.

-

-And Meg was doing her best to put her foot

-down upon it.

-

-In a metaphorical sense, of course.  Meg Woolcot

-at twenty-one was far too lady-like to resort to a

-personal struggle with her young sister.

-

-But her eyes were distressed.

-

-"You can't say I don't look nice," Nell said.

-"Why, even Martha said, 'La, Miss Nell!' and held

-her head on one side with a pleased look for two

-minutes."

-

-"But you're such a child, Nellie," objected Meg.

-"you look like playing at being grown up."

-

-"Fifteen's very old, *I* think," said Miss Nell,

-walking up and down just for the simple pleasure

-of hearing the frou-frou of muslin frills near her

-shoes.

-

-"Ah well, I do think I look nice with my hair

-done up, and you can't have it up with short frocks."

-

-"Then the moral is easy of deduction," said Meg

-drily.

-

-"Oh, bother morals!" was Nell's easy answer.

-

-She tripped down the verandah steps with a

-glance or two over her shoulder at the set of the

-back of her dress, and she crossed the lawn to the

-crazy-looking summer-house.

-

-"Oh dear!" sighed Meg.

-

-She leaned her face on her hands, and stared

-sadly after the crisp, retreating frills and the shimmer

-of golden hair "done up."  This was one of the

-days when Meg's desires to be a model eldest sister

-were in the ascendency, hence the very feminine

-exclamation.

-

-She had not altered very much in all these live

-long years—a little taller perhaps, a little more

-womanly, but the eyes still had their child-like,

-straightforward look, and the powdering of freckles

-was there yet, albeit fainter in colouring.

-

-She still made resolutions—and broke them.  She

-still wrote verses—and burnt them.  To-day she

-was darning socks, Pip's and Bunty's.  That was

-because she had just made a fresh resolve to do

-her duty in her state of life.

-

-At other times she left them all to the fag end

-of the week, and great was the cobbling thereof to

-satisfy the demands of "Clean socks, Meg, and look

-sharp."

-

-Besides darning, Meg had promised to take care

-of the children for the afternoon, as Esther had

-gone out.

-

-Who were the children? you will ask, thinking

-five years has taken that title away from several of

-our young Australians.

-

-The General is six now, and answers to the

-name of Peter on the occasions that Pip does not

-call him Jumbo, and Bunty, Billy.  Nell, who is

-inclining to elegant manners, ventures occasionally

-in company to address him as Rupert; but he

-generally winks or says "Beg pardon?" in a vacant

-kind of way.

-

-Baby also has become "Poppet," and handed

-down her name of long standing to a rightful

-claimant who disjointed the General's nose nearly

-three years ago and made our number up to seven

-again.

-

-Just a wee, chubby morsel of a girl it is, with

-sunshiny eyes and sunshiny hair and a ceaseless

-supply of sunshiny smiles.

-

-Even her tears are sunshiny; they are so short-lived

-that the smiles shine through and make them

-things of beauty.

-

-The boys generally call her "The Scrap," though

-she is as big as most three-year-olds.  She was

-christened Esther.

-

-And Poppet is still a child,—to be nine is scarcely

-to have reached years of discretion.

-

-She has lost her chubbiness, and developed

-abnormally long, thin legs and arms, a surprising

-capacity for mischief, and the tenderest little heart

-in the world.

-

-So Meg's hands were fairly well filled for the

-afternoon, to keep these three young ones in check,

-darn the socks, and superintend kitchen arrangements,

-which meant Martha Tomlinson and the cook.

-

-She had not bargained for the tussle with Nell too.

-

-That young person was at a difficult age just now:

-too old—in her own eyes, at any rate—to romp with

-Bunty and Poppet; too young to take a place beside

-Meg and pay visits with Esther,—she hung between,

-and had just compromised matters by letting down

-her frocks, as years ago Meg had done in the privacy

-of her bedroom.

-

-Her early promise of good looks was more than

-fulfilled, and in this long, pale blue muslin, and

-"picture" hat, cornflower-trimmed, she looked a

-fresh enough young beauty to be queen of a season.

-The golden hair had deepened, and was twisted up

-in the careful, careless way fashion dictated.  The

-complexion was wonderfully pure and bright for

-Australia, and the eyes were just as dewy and soft

-and sweetly lashed as ever.

-

-But not yet sixteen!  Was ever such an

-impossible age for grown-up rights?  Just because she

-was tall and gracefully built was no reason why

-she should consider herself fit to be "out," Meg

-contended—especially, she added, with a touch of

-sisterly sarcasm, as she had a weakness for spelling

-"believe" and "receive" in unorthodox ways, and

-was still floundering wretchedly through her first

-French author—*Le Chien du Capitaine*.

-

-Poppet's legs dashed across the gravel path under

-the window; Peter's copper-toed boots in hot pursuit

-shone for a second and vanished.

-

-"Where's Baby, I wonder?" Meg said to herself.

-

-The child had been playing with a chair a little

-time back, dragging it up and down the verandah

-and bumping it about noisily; now all was silent.

-She went to the foot of the stairs, one of Bunty's

-socks more "holey" than righteous drawn over her

-hand.

-

-"What you doing, Essie?" she called.

-

-"Nosing, Mig," said a little sweet voice from a

-bedroom,—"nosing at all."

-

-"Now, Essie!"—Meg's voice took a stern note,—

-"tell me what you are doing!"

-

-"Nosing," said the little voice; "I'se velly dood."

-

-.. _`"'I'SE VELLY DOOD.'"`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-015.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'I'SE VELLY DOOD.'"

-

-   "'I'SE VELLY DOOD.'"

-

-"Quite sure, Essie?"

-

-"Twite; I isn't dettin' wet a bit, Miggie."

-

-Up the stairs Meg ran at a swift pace; that last

-speech was eminently Baby's, and betokened many

-things.

-

-"Oh, you wicked child!" she cried, and drove an

-unsummoned smile away from her mouth corners.

-

-The big water-jug was on the floor near the

-washstand, and small Essie with slow and deep

-enjoyment was standing with one wee leg in the

-jug and the other on the oilcloth.  The state of the

-lace sock and little red shoe visible betrayed the

-fact that the operation had been reversed more than

-once.

-

-This was an odd little characteristic of Essie's,

-and no amount of scolding and even shaking could

-break her of it.  Innumerable times she had been

-found at this work of iniquity, dipping one leg after

-the other in any water-jugs she found on the floor.

-And did Martha, in washing floors, leave her bucket

-of dirty water one moment unguarded, Essie would

-creep up and pop in one little leg while she stood

-her ground with the other.

-

-Meg dried her, scolding hard all the time.

-"All your shoes are spoiled, Baby, you naughty

-girl; what *am* I to do to you?"

-

-"Velly solly," said Baby cheerfully.

-

-She squeezed a tear out of her smiling eyes when

-Meg bade her look at the ruin of her pretty red

-shoes.

-

-"And you told me a story, Essie; you said you

-were good, and were not getting wet."

-

-Meg held the little offender away from her, and

-looked upon her with stern reproach.

-

-"But on'y my legs was dettin' wet—not me,"

-explained Essie, with a sob in her voice and a dimple

-at the corner of her mouth.

-

-There was nothing of course to be done but put

-the water-jug into its basin, and carry the small

-sinner downstairs in dry socks and ankle-strap

-slippers that showed signs of having been wet

-through at some time or other.

-

-Bunty was lying on his back on the dining-room

-couch, which Meg had left strewn with footwear

-waiting to be paired and rolled up.

-

-"Oh, John!" she said vexedly, seeing her work

-scattered about the floor.

-

-"John" took no notice.  I should tell you, perhaps,

-that, since starting to school, Bunty's baptismal

-name had been called into requisition by authorities

-who objected to nicknames, and his family fell into

-the way of using it occasionally too.

-

-He was a big, awkward lad, tall for his thirteen

-years, and very loosely built.  Nell used to say

-complainingly that he always looked as if he needed

-tightening up.  His clothes never fitted him, or

-seemed part of him, like other boys' clothes.  His

-coats generally looked big and baggy, while his

-trousers had a way of creeping up his ankles and

-showing a piece of loose sock.

-

-In the matter of collars he was hopeless.  He

-had a daily allowance of one clean one, but, even if

-you met him quite early in the morning, there would

-be nothing but a limp, crooked piece of linen of

-doubtful hue visible.  He had the face of a boy

-at war with the world.  His eyes were sullen,

-brooding—his mouth obstinate.  Every one knew

-he was the black sheep.  He knew it himself, and

-resented it in silence.

-

-Poppet understood him a little—no one else.  He

-was at perpetual enmity with his father, who had no

-patience with him at all.  Esther excused him by

-saying he was at the hobbledehoy stage, and would

-grow up all right; but she was always too busy to

-help him to grow.  Meg's hands were full with Pip;

-and Nell, after a try or two to win his confidence,

-had pronounced him a larrikin, undeserving of

-sisters at all.

-

-So Poppet undertook him.  She was a faithful

-little soul, and in some strange way just fitted into

-him, despite his awkward angles.

-

-Sometimes he would tell her things, and go to

-a great deal of trouble to do something she

-particularly wanted; but then again he would bully her

-unmercifully, and make her life not worth living.

-

-"Why don't you play cricket, or do something,

-John?" Meg said, snipping off an end of cotton very

-energetically.  "I hate to see a great boy like you

-sprawling on a sofa doing nothing."

-

-"Do you?" said John.

-

-"What made you so late home from school?  It's

-nearly teatime.  I hope it wasn't detention again."

-

-"It was," said John.

-

-"Oh, Bunty, that means Saturday taken again,

-doesn't it?"

-

-"It does."  John rolled over, and lay on his other

-side, his eyes shut.

-

-"Bunty, why *don't* you try?" Meg said; "you

-are always in scrapes for something.  Pip never

-got in half so many, and yet *he* wasn't a model boy.

-Will you promise me to try next week?"

-

-There was a grunt from the sofa cushion that

-might be interpreted at will as negative or affirmative.

-

-Nell came into the room, her hat swung over her arm.

-

-"Get up, John," she said; "what a horrid boy

-you are!  Look at your great muddy boots on the

-sofa!  Meg, I don't know how you could sit there

-and see him.  Why, if we sat down, we'd get our

-dresses all spoiled."

-

-"Good job too," said John, not moving a hand.

-

-Nellie regarded him with frankest disgust.  "What

-a collar!" she said, a world of emphasis on the

-"what."  "I declare the street newsboys and

-match-sellers look more gentlemanly than you do."

-

-The tea-bell rang upstairs; John sat up instantly.

-

-"I hope you saved me more pudding to-day,

-Meg," he said.  "I never saw such a stingy bit as

-you kept yesterday."

-

-Nell's scarlet lips formed themselves into

-something very like "pig" as she turned on her heel to

-leave the room.  Then she said "Clumsy wretch!"

-with startling suddenness.  John had set his "great

-muddy boot" down on one of her pretty flounces,

-and a sound of sundering stitches smote the air.

-

-"Beg pardon," said John, with a fiendish light of

-triumph in his eyes.  Then he went upstairs two

-steps at a time to discuss his warmed-up dinner

-while the others had tea.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`SCHOOL TROUBLES`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER II.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   SCHOOL TROUBLES.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "A heart at leisure from itself

-   |  To soothe and sympathise."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Poppet and Peter were discussing many things

-in general, and the mystery of life in particular.

-They were sitting crouched up together in an

-old tank that had been cast out in the first paddock

-because it leaked.  It was after tea, and Poppet had

-a little dead chicken in her hand that she had picked

-up in the garden.

-

-"Ith got wheelth inthide it, and when they thop

-ith deaded," Peter was saying,—"thust like my

-thteam engine, thath what tith."

-

-"I think being alive is very funny," Poppet said,

-looking earnestly at the little lifeless body.  "All

-those chickies was eggs, and then sud'nly they begin

-running about and enjoying themselves, and *then*

-sud'nly they tumble down dead, and even the doctor

-can't make them run again."

-

-"Yeth," said Peter, his eyes very thoughtful as

-he tried to grasp great things.  "Prapth you might

-tumble down like that, Poppet; all *your* wheelth

-might thtop."

-

-"Or yours," urged Poppet.  Death was in her

-hand.  She did not like to feel that ever her active

-little body could lie like this fluffy, silent one, and

-so made the likelihood more general.

-

-"Yeth," said Peter; "and *oneth*, Poppet, I nearly

-*wath* deaded, and Judy thaved me."

-

-"*You* don't remember," Poppet said, in a voice of

-great scorn.  "You was only a little, tiny baby, just

-beginning to walk, Peter.  But I was there, and

-remember *everything*."

-

-"You wath athleep, Poppet," Peter objected,—Poppet's

-air of superiority irritated him.  "Meg told

-me about it when I had the meathleth, and the thaid

-that you wath athleep, tho there!"

-

-"At any rate, Peter, I think you are old enough

-to stop lisping," Poppet said severely, finding

-herself worsted.  "You are six now, and only

-babies of ten months lisp.  *I* never lisped at all."

-

-Peter went red in the face.

-

-"I don't lithp; you're a thtory-teller, Poppet

-Woolcot!" he said, drawing in his tongue with a

-great effort at straight pronunciation.

-

-Poppet jeered unkindly, then she caught sight of

-Bunty strolling aimlessly about the garden, and she

-squeezed herself out of the tank and stood upright.

-

-"Don't go," said Peter.  "Leth play Zoo, Poppet,

-and you can be the lion thith time, and I'll feed

-you!"

-

-But not even this inducement had any effect.

-

-"I want to talk to Bunty," the little girl said,

-looking across with a half-troubled light in her eyes

-to where Bunty's old cap was visible.  "I can play

-with you when he's at school.  You can go and

-have a game with Baby."

-

-She went away, leaving him disconsolate, and

-crushed herself through a broken paling into the

-garden.

-

-She would like to have gone up to Bunty and

-slipped her arm through his and asked him what

-had made him so exceptionally glum and silent these

-last few days.

-

-But she knew him better than that.  She was

-very wise for her nine years.

-

-She fell to weeding her garden with great industry

-while he was walking on the path near it.  Then

-when he rambled farther away, she hovered about

-here and there, now plucking a flower, now giving

-chase to a great praying mantis.  She was within

-a few feet of him all the time.

-

-"What *are* you buzznaccing about like this for?"

-he said at last irritably, when her short holland

-frock appeared at every path he turned down.  He

-threw himself down on the grass, and pulled his

-cap over his eyes.

-

-"Flibberty-Gibbet had a tic in his head this morning,"

-said the little girl, sitting down beside him

-Turk fashion.

-

-"Well, *I* don't care," Bunty said, with almost a

-groan.

-

-A look of anger crept up into the little sister's,

-earnest eyes.

-

-"I 'spect it's that old Burnham again," she said

-wrathfully.  "What's he been doing *this* time?"

-

-Bunty groaned again.

-

-"Was it your Greek?" she said, edging nearer.

-"Howid stuff!  As if you could be espected to get

-it right *always*!"

-

-There was another smothered sound from beneath

-the cap.

-

-"Was it that nasty algebra?" said the little,

-encouraging voice.  It was so tender and anxious

-and loving that the boy uncovered his eyes a

-little.

-

-"I'm in the *beastliest* row, Poppet," he said.

-

-Poppet's little, fair face was ashine with sympathy.

-

-"I'd like to *hammer* that Mr. Burnham," she said.

-"How did it happen, Bunty?"

-

-Bunty sat up and sighed.  After all, it would be

-a relief to tell some one; and who better than the

-faithful Poppet?

-

-"Well, you know Bully Hawkins?" he said.

-

-"Oh yes," said the little girl; and she did,

-excellently—by hearsay.

-

-"Well, on Monday he was on the cricket pitch

-practising, and Tom Jackson was bowling him—he'd

-made him.  And when I went down—I was crossing

-it to go up to Bruce—he jumped on me, and said I

-was to backstop.  I said I wasn't going to—why

-should I go after his blooming balls?—and he said

-he'd punch my head if I didn't.  And I said, 'Yes,

-you do,' and walked on to Bruce.  We were going

-to play marbles.  And he came after me, and hit me

-over the head and boxed my ears and twisted my

-arms."

-

-"Bully!" said Poppet, with gleaming eyes.

-"What did you do, Bunty? did you knock him

-down?  I hope you made his nose bleed,—I'd—I'd

-have *flattened* him!"

-

-Bunty gave her a look of scorn.

-

-"He's sixteen, and the size of a prize-fighter!"

-he said.  "I'd have been half killed.  No;

-Mr. Burnham was just a little way off, and I let

-out a yell to him, and he came up and I told of

-him."

-

-"Bunty!" said Poppet.  The word came out like

-the report of a pistol, and her red lips shut again

-very tightly to prevent any more following.

-

-.. _`"MR. BURNHAM CAME UP AND I TOLD OF HIM."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-025.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "MR. BURNHAM CAME UP AND I TOLD OF HIM."

-

-   "MR. BURNHAM CAME UP AND I TOLD OF HIM."

-

-This touch of cowardice, this failure to grasp

-simple honour in Bunty's character, was a perpetual

-grief and amazement to her little fearless soul.  But

-he would brook no advice nor reproach from her,

-as she knew full well, and that is why her lips had

-closed with a snap after that one word.

-

-But he had seen the look of horror in her eyes.

-

-"D'ye think I'm going to be pummelled just as

-that brute likes?" he demanded angrily.  "He's

-always bullying the fellows in our form, and it'll do

-him good to get a taste of what he gives us.

-Mr. Burnham said he hated a bully, and he just walked

-him up to the schoolroom and gave him six."

-

-Still Poppet was silent; her face was flushed a

-little, and she was pulling up long pieces of grass

-with feverish diligence.  In her quick little way she

-saw it all, and felt acutely just how the boys would

-look upon Bunty's behaviour.

-

-"What an idiot you are, Poppet!" he said

-irritably, as she did not speak; "as though a bit of

-a girl like you knows what it is at a boys' school.

-I'm sorry I told you—I—I won't tell you the

-rest."

-

-Poppet choked something down in her throat.

-

-"Do tell me, Bunty," she said; "I didn't mean

-to be howid.  Go on—I only couldn't help wishing

-you could have foughted him instead of telling,

-because—well, I espect he'll be worse to you than

-ever now, and the other fellows too."

-

-"That's it," Bunty said, with a groan.  "Oh, but

-that's not half of it yet, Poppet.  I almost wish I

-was dead."

-

-Something like a tear forced itself beneath his

-eyelids and trickled down his cheeks.  Poppet's.

-heart expanded and grew pitiful again instantly

-His face was close to her knee, and wore so miserable

-an expression that in a sudden little burst of love

-she put down her lips and kissed him half-a-dozen

-times.

-

-He sat up instantly and looked ashamed.

-

-"How often am I to tell you I hate mugging?"

-he said gruffly.  "If you go on like this, I won't tell

-you."

-

-"I beg your pardon," Poppet said very humbly;

-"really, I won't again, Bunty.  Do go on."

-

-"Well, after that, I went round the side of the

-school—you know that path, near the master's

-windows.  Well, I'd nothing much to do, and the bell

-hadn't gone, and I was just chucking my cricket

-ball up and down; there was a tree, and I tried to

-make it go up in a straight line just as high, and

-the next minute I heard a crash, and it had gone

-through Mr. Hollington's window."

-

-"Good gracious!" Poppet said, with widening

-eyes; then she gave a little joyful jump.  "I've

-got thirteen shillings, Bunty, from the pound

-Mr. Hassal gave me; I'll give it to you to get it mended

-with.  Oh, it won't be such a very bad row; you

-can 'splain it all to Mr. Hollington."

-

-"That's not all," Bunty said.  "Thirteen shillings!

-You might as well say ha'pennies.  I stood there

-for a bit and no one came, and at last I went in

-and looked about, and what do you think?—no one

-had heard!"

-

-"Oh!" breathed Poppet.  She scented the old

-trouble again.

-

-"But you see it was such an awful crash.  I

-knew it was more than the window.  And every one

-was out in the playground,—even Mr. Burnham had

-just gone out again for something, and Mr. Hollington

-had gone home early.  So I first went quietly

-upstairs, and no one was about, so I went into

-his room to get the ball, because my name was on

-it.  And there were two glass cases on top of one

-another under the window with eggs and specimens

-and things in, and they were all smashed."

-

-Poppet drew a long breath that ended in a whistle.

-She was wishing she had not bought that set of

-gardening tools that cost six shillings, and that

-shillingsworth of burnt almonds—perhaps a

-sovereign——

-

-"It wasn't school-time," Bunty was whispering

-now, "and no one had seen—not a soul, Poppet.

-Poppet, it was an accident; why should I go and

-tell of myself?  Why, I might have been expelled;

-and think what the governor would say.  So——"

-

-"Yes," said Poppet steadily, "go on, Bunty."

-

-He had paused, and was digging up the earth with

-his broken pocket-knife.  "So—go on."

-

-"So, when we were all in afternoon school,

-Mr. Burnham came in and asked who did it."

-

-"Yes, Bunty—*dear*."  A red colour had crept up

-into the little girl's cheeks, her eyes were full of

-painful anxiety.  "You said you had, Bunty—didn't

-you, Bunty dear?  Oh, Bunty, of *course* you said you

-had."

-

-"No, I didn't," burst out her brother.  "How

-could I after that, you idiot you?  What is the good

-telling you things?  Why I didn't know what would

-have happened.  When he asked us separately I

-just said 'No' in a hurry, and then I couldn't say

-'Yes' after, could I?"

-

-Again Poppet was silent, again there was the look

-of amaze and grief in her wide, clear eyes.  Bunty

-pulled his old cap over his face again—he hated

-himself, and most of all he hated to meet the honest,

-sorrowful eyes of his little sister.

-

-"Couldn't you tell now, Bunty?" she said softly.

-"Go to-night—I'll come with you to the gate—oh, do,

-Bunty dear.  Mr. Burnham is not vewy howid

-perhaps, and canings don't hurt vewy much—let's go

-to-night, and by to-morrow it'll all be over."

-

-"It's no good."  A sob came from under the cap.

-"Oh, Poppet, it'll be awful to-morrow!  Oh, *Poppet*!

-Some one had seen, after all.  Just as I left school

-Hawkins came up to me.  He hadn't been there

-when Burnham asked us, and didn't hear anything

-till after school, and he said he saw me coming out

-of Hollington's room, and creeping down the passage

-with a cricket ball in my hand, and he went in to

-report it to Burnham just as I came home, to pay

-me out for getting him a swishing."

-

-Poppet was crying, though she hardly knew it.

-Such a terrible scrape, and such a lie at the back of

-it—what could be the end of it?

-

-"Oh, Bunty!" she said, and put her face right

-down in the long grass.  The earth and the tears

-got mixed, and smirched the clearness of her

-skin—there was a wet, black smudge all down her poor

-little nose.

-

-"Poppet!" cried Meg's voice, preceding her down

-the path in the dusk.  "Are you really sitting on

-the grass again when I've told you so often how wet

-the dew makes it?  John, how can you let her, when

-you know how she coughs!  Go to bed at once,

-Poppet, it's after eight; and you haven't touched

-your home-lessons, John—really it's one person's

-work to look after you—and where is that coat with

-the buttons off?"

-

-"On my bed," "John" said sulkily.

-

-"I wish you'd hang it up—what's the use of pegs?

-Poppet, go in when I tell you—don't be naughty.

-Now, John, go and start your lessons.  You'd better

-do them in your bedroom, you make such a litter

-downstairs."

-

-Meg turned to go back, Poppet's reluctant hand

-held fast.

-

-"Can't I stay five minutes, *please*, Meg?" the

-little girl said, looking up beseechingly.

-

-Even in the fading light Meg saw the sweet

-brimming eyes and quivering little lips.

-

-"John!" she said angrily, "you've been bullying

-the poor little thing again; I simply *won't* have

-it—I shall speak to father."

-

-"Oh, shut up!" said John; and he moved away

-wearily up to the house.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`A PASSAGE-AT-ARMS`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER III.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   A PASSAGE AT ARMS.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "Oh the day when thou goest a-wooing,

-   |  Philip, my king."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Meg was a little "put out," as it is popularly

-called, this evening,—she was not generally

-so short with the young ones.  The good fit had

-worn away during the endless process of darning,

-and she had jumped up at last, stuffed all the work

-into the gaping stocking-bag, and said to herself

-that eldest sisters were mistaken and wrongful

-institutions.

-

-But that did not give Baby Essie her tea, nor

-yet put her lively little ladyship to bed; and since

-Esther was out, there was no one else to undertake it.

-

-And when that was done Pip came in and asked

-her in his off-hand manner to "just put a stitch in

-that football blazer."

-

-The stitch meant a hundred or two, for it was

-slit from top to bottom.

-

-And then Esther came home—a quieter Esther,

-an Esther of less brilliant colouring than you used

-to know, for there are not many "fast colours"

-beneath Australian skies—and with her the Captain,

-grown more short-tempered with the lapse of years,

-and an income that did not grow with his family.

-And again it was "Meg."

-

-The seltzogene was empty.  The Captain asked

-some one to tell him what was the use of having

-a grown-up daughter—he could not answer the

-question himself.

-

-The lamb was a shade too much cooked, and the

-Golden Pudding a shade too little.  He wanted to

-know whether Meg considered it below her to

-superintend domestic matters.  In his young days

-girls, etc., etc.  She went from the dinner-table at

-the end of the meal with hot cheeks.

-

-"I never chose to be eldest—I was made so;

-and I don't see I should be scapegoat for

-everything!" she said, sitting down on the arm of the

-lounge on which lay six feet of the superior sex in

-the shape of Pip.

-

-There was a wrathful look in her blue eyes, and

-she had ruffled her fair hair back in a way she

-always did in moments of annoyance.

-

-"Why don't you make that conceited little chit

-help?" Pip said between puffs at his cigar.

-

-"Nellie!" ejaculated Meg in surprise.

-

-"Yes, Nellie," said Pip.  He looked across to

-where she was making a picture beautiful to the

-most critical eye in a hammock a yard or two

-distant.  "Is her only mission in life going to be

-looking pretty?"

-

-"Oh," Meg said, "she's too young, of course,

-Pip.  Why, she's only fifteen, though she is so tall!

-Oh, of course it can't be helped—only it's annoying.

-But what have you got your best trousers on for,

-Pip, again, and that blue tie?  You had them last

-night and the night before!"

-

-Pip's handsome face coloured slowly.

-

-"You've got a fair amount of cheek of your own,

-Meg," he said, collecting the cigar ash in a little

-heap very carefully, and then blowing it away with

-equal industry.  "I wonder when you'll learn to

-mind your own business.  I should imagine I'm

-old enough to choose my own clothes."

-

-"Only she's a horrid, vulgar girl, that's all," Meg

-said slowly, and colouring on her own account.

-"Pip, I don't know how you can, really I don't—a

-common little dressmaker.  Oh yes, we know all

-about it; Peter saw you last night, and Poppet the

-night before."

-

-"Peter be—Poppet be——  What the deuce do you

-mean spying after me?" stormed Pip, sitting upright

-and looking wrathfully at his sister.  "If I choose

-to take a walk with a pretty girl, is it any concern of

-yours?"

-

-.. _`"'PRETTY!' SAID NELL—'PRETTY!  WHY, SHE BLACKENS HER EYEBROWS, I'M CERTAIN.'"`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-035.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'PRETTY!' SAID NELL—'PRETTY!  WHY, SHE BLACKENS HER EYEBROWS, I'M CERTAIN.'"

-

-   "'PRETTY!' SAID NELL—'PRETTY!  WHY, SHE BLACKENS HER EYEBROWS, I'M CERTAIN.'"

-

-"Pretty!" said Nell, who had come up at his

-raised voice,—"pretty!  Why, she blackens her

-eyebrows, I'm certain; and you should have seen

-her hat last Sunday—a green bird, some blue,

-lumpy plush, and a bunch of pink chiffon."

-

-"Upon my word," said Pip,—he was white with

-anger, and his eyes blazed,—"upon my word, I've

-got two nice sisters.  Trust a girl for running down

-another pretty one.  You're jealous, that's what it

-is, because you know you can't hold a candle to her."

-

-"Her father sells kerosene and butter—he's a

-*grocer*!" Nellie said, with a fine swerve of her delicate

-lips.  "Upon *my* word, Pip, I should think, with

-all the pretty girls there are about here, you might

-fall in love with a lady."

-

-"She *is* a lady," Pip contended hotly.  "She

-works with her needle, perhaps—she's not been

-brought up in selfish idleness like you girls—but her

-manners are a long sight better than yours, and

-she'd blush to say small-minded things like you do."

-

-It occurred to Meg that it *was* small-minded, and

-she said no more.

-

-But there was nothing Nellie enjoyed more than

-a sparring match with her eldest brother when the

-advantage was on her side, and had he not called

-her a conceited chit?

-

-"There's one thing—you'd get your groceries at

-a reduction," she said meditatively.  "I think their

-sardines are only 5-½*d.* a tin; they'd let *you* have

-them for 5*d.* perhaps, considering all you've spent

-in chocolates and eight-button gloves.  Meg, I *did*

-think that packet of lovely gloves in his bedroom

-was for his dear little sisters, until——"

-

-"Until you forfeited them by your abominable

-behaviour!" Philip cried jesuitically.

-

-But Nellie gave him a pitying glance.  "Until

-I saw the size was too utterly impossible for

-the hands of ladies,—o-o-h, Pip, don't, you hurt

-me—ah-h-h, you're bruising my arm—stop it, Pip!"

-

-Pip was twisting her soft, muslin-covered arms

-back in the torturous way boys learn at school,

-and in a minute she was compelled to call for

-mercy.

-

-"Down on your knees!" he cried, forcing her

-down into that humble position.  "Now, apologise

-for all the caddish things you've said about Miss

-Jones; begin at once,—now, one, two, three—say,

-'I apologise.'"

-

-"Never!" screamed Nell, struggling desperately;

-"I'll die first,—o-o-h, ah-h-h, oh—'I—I—I

-apologise'—you donkey!"

-

-"More than that,—'I should be glad to be half as

-beautiful and good and lady-like.'"

-

-"'B-beautiful and good and l-l-lady-like," repeated

-Nell, with a gasp and a cry between each word.

-"Oh, Meg, make him stop!"

-

-"'I only said those caddish things because I

-was jealous of her superiority'—hurry up, now!"  A

-scientific turn accompanied his sentence.

-

-"'C-caddish things because I was jealous—superiority,'—oh,

-Pip!  Meg! somebody, quick—he's half

-killing me!"  Tears of pain and mortification had

-started to her eyes.

-

-"Let her go, Pip," Meg said; "you really hurt."  She

-pulled at his arm, and he released his victim,

-who fell in a heap on the floor, and said he was

-"a h-h-horrid w-wretch, and she w-wished she had

-no brothers."

-

-Pip picked up his hat and settled his pale blue tie,

-which had become somewhat disarranged.

-

-"Good-night; I hope you'll learn and inwardly

-digest your lesson, my child," he said, going out

-upon the gravel.

-

-But Nellie sprang to her feet, and called after him

-all down the path till he reached the gate, "Candles,

-sardines, needles and pins, size nine gloves! ask

-her what she blacks her eyebrows with!"

-

-Meg was looking troubled.  She was sitting on

-the lounge he had quitted, and her fair brows were

-knitted beneath the soft, straying hair.

-

-"Nell dear, it *is* vulgar," she said, "and it *is*

-small.  I don't know where the distinction of ladies

-comes in if we say things like that.  Perhaps the

-little dressmaker really wouldn't."

-

-"But we are ladies," Miss Elinor said, her small

-head in the air,—"nothing can alter that.  Our father

-is a gentleman, our mother was a lady—we are ladies."

-

-"Not if we act like servant girls," Meg said quietly.

-"If you found a bit of glass under all the conditions

-you'd expect to find a diamond, and yet it didn't

-shine like a diamond, then it wouldn't be a diamond,

-would it?"

-

-"Now don't get elder-sistery and moralous,"

-said Nell; albeit she was a trifle ashamed, for she

-prided herself certainly upon being a little lady to

-her boot toes.  "Meg, I thought of doing up that

-white crepon Esther gave me into a kind of evening

-dress, just for little evenings, you know, at the

-Baileys or Courtneys, or anywhere, or when we

-have people here.  Would you make the body as

-a blouse with big frills over the shoulders, or with

-a yoke and gathered into the waist?  The blouse

-way would be easier, for there's no lining, you know."

-

-"Oh, the blouse, I think," Meg said, half

-abstractedly.  "Do you know if Poppet has gone to

-bed, Nell?  I don't think I saw her come in, and

-her cough was bad last night."

-

-"I don't know.  Meg, I'll give you half-a-crown

-for that silver belt of yours; I've got a little money

-left in my allowance yet, and you never wear it.

-Half-a-crown would buy you a new book, or one of

-those burnt straw sailor-hats, and the belt would

-look lovely with the white dress."  The younger

-girl looked persuasively at the elder.

-

-"But I gave seven-and-sixpence for it," Meg

-objected, "and it's nearly new."

-

-"But you never wear it—what's the good of a

-thing you don't wear?" contended Nellie, who had

-set her heart upon it.  "If you think it's too little,

-say two shillings and that light blue blouse of

-mine that you like."

-

-Meg put the blouse on mentally.

-

-"Well, I like myself in pale blue," she said; "yes,

-I'll do that—only I hope it's not torn or anything.

-Oh! and Nell, I think you might go and see if

-Poppet is in the garden; I've done ever so much

-to-day, and you've only been reading."

-

-But Nellie was comfortably in the hammock again

-among the cushions.

-

-"Oh, Poppet never does anything *I* tell her,"

-she said; "you'd better get her yourself—all the

-children mind you more than me, you have so much

-more patience, Megsie."

-

-So it was Meg who had disturbed the important

-*tête-à-tête* between Bunty and his little sister; Meg

-who had separated them abruptly, almost unkindly,

-at a crisis of great moment; and Meg who had seen

-the little girl actually into bed, and administered a

-dose of eucalyptus against the cough.

-

-But it was also Meg who went down in the

-drawing-room presently, and played Mendelssohn's

-tender, exquisite Love Song, and a rippling, laughing

-little bit of Grieg, and a Sonata of Beethoven's, to

-a father half asleep on the sofa and a young man

-very wide awake on a neighbouring chair.

-

-And it was Poppet who made hay, and crept

-along the passage in her little nightgown to the

-room where Bunty was sitting with his head on

-his arms and misery in his eyes.

-

-And it was Poppet who, after torrents of abuse

-and vituperation from the unhappy lad, succeeded

-in extracting a promise that he should own up

-everything bravely in the morning, and not shirk

-his punishment whatever it was.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`A SUMMER'S DAY`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER IV.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   A SUMMER'S DAY.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "Happy in this, she is not yet so old

-   |  But she may learn; happier than this,

-   |  She is not bred so dull but she can learn."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-The next day was exceedingly hot, one of those

-moist, breathless days that make February

-the most unpleasant month in the year to Sydney

-folks.

-

-Every one in the house felt utterly limp and cross

-and miserable, and daily duties were performed in

-as slipshod and languid a manner as possible.  The

-cook had made a great pan of quince jam, and

-brought it into the breakfast-room on a tray for

-Esther to tie down.  And Esther was sitting in the

-rocking-chair trying to make up her mind to do

-it, and wondering whether it would be easier to

-use string or paste.  Small Esther was making a

-terrible noise.  She owned dolls and bricks, little

-tea-services, and baby furniture—all the toys that

-well-regulated little girls are supposed to love; she

-generally tired of them, however, after a few minutes'

-play.

-

-At present she had made a tram of six heavy

-leather chairs, with the armchair for "motor," and her

-little sweet face was scarlet and wet with the exertion

-of dragging them into place.

-

-In addition to this she had taken the fire-irons

-out of the fender, and was rowing, or in some way

-propelling the train forward—to her own satisfaction,

-at any rate—by brandishing the tongs wildly about

-while she stood in the motor and shouted and cried,

-"Gee up!"

-

-"Essie," big Esther said at last, "you must be

-quiet.  Poor mamma's head aches.  Where's your

-doll?  That's not a pretty game."

-

-"All bwoked," said Essie; "gee up, old twain."

-Bang, bang, clatter, clatter.

-

-"Essie, put those things away at once."  Esther

-noticed the poker for the first time.  "You naughty

-girl, you are scratching the chairs dreadfully."

-

-"But I can't make ze twain puff-puff wifout,"

-objected the engine-driver, "an' we has to go to

-Bwisbane; det up wif you."  She leaned over the

-tall back of her locomotive, and made vigorous hits

-at the legs of it.

-

-So vigorous indeed that the chair went over with

-a crash, precipitating Essie and the poker and tongs

-and shovel in four different directions.

-

-"Oh dear," said Esther, and sighed before she

-attempted to go to the rescue.  Essie was always

-tumbling from somewhere or other and never got

-much hurt, and really it was terribly hot.

-

-"Oo-oo-oh!" said a very small voice.  It

-quavered for a minute.  If the anxiously examined

-little fat knees had been scratched, it would have

-broken into a despairing yell, but they were whole,

-and the motor had misbehaved itself.

-

-"Beast!" she said, picking herself up in a great

-hurry,—"howid old pig!"  Then she seized the

-poker and beat the prostrate chair with all her

-small, angered strength.

-

-"Essie," big Esther said languidly—she had found

-with thankfulness she need not move from the

-chair,—"Essie, I shall whip you, if you use naughty

-words like that."

-

-"But I was zust dettin' to Bwisbane—so it *is* a

-pig," Essie maintained.  Then she climbed up again,

-and the journey proceeded.

-

-In the nursery Meg was supposed to be giving

-lessons to Peter and Poppet, and superintending the

-more advanced studies of Nellie; for the last nursery

-governess had left suddenly, and the Captain had

-professed himself unable to afford another until the

-next quarter.

-

-Meg used to provide herself with a book during

-these daily struggles, to be indulged in at times when

-her supervision was not required.  It had been an

-"improving" book for the last month, for she had

-lately been finding out how wofully ignorant she

-was when she talked to the young man who had

-listened to her playing last night.  To-day it was

-Browning, because he had looked horrified to find

-she never read any of his poems, on the plea that he

-was acknowledged to be difficult to understand.

-

-It was a pity she chose "Filippo Baldinucci on

-the Privilege of Burial" for her first essay,

-especially as it was such a hot day; but she had

-determined to read, dauntlessly, the first poem the book

-opened at.

-

-"Do this sum, Poppet," she said, setting a multiplication

-with eight figures in each line—"dear, *what*

-a greasy slate; and Peter, if you drop any blots on

-your copy, you will have to write it again this

-afternoon."

-

-Peter was sucking a little lump of ice he had

-stolen out of the ice-chest.  Poppet asked him for

-a bit to clean her slate with, but he considered this

-such waste of precious material that he swallowed it

-in a hurry and choked.  Poppet asked if she might

-go and wet her sponge; but Meg said no, it always

-took a quarter of an hour to do that simple act, if

-she escaped from the room.  So Peter offered to

-breathe on it for her.

-

-"Both of us will," said Poppet,—"you on the top

-half, and me on the bottom."

-

-Meg was taking a cursory glance at "Filippo,"

-and groaning mentally; she did not hear the

-arrangement for the slate-cleaning until the

-heads bumped violently and the two began to

-quarrel.

-

-"You licked it with your tongue," Poppet said.

-

-"I never—I wath only breathing with my lipth on

-it," declared Peter.

-

-"I saw the end of your tongue hanging out,"

-Poppet maintained.

-

-"You're a thtory-teller, Poppet."  Peter's face

-began to get red.  "I wath only breathing, tho

-there."

-

-"Peter, go and sit at the other end of the table.

-Poppet, if you put out your tongue at Peter again,

-I shall make you stand in the corner."  Meg put a

-pen in the Browning to keep it open, and went over

-to Nell at the window to see how "Le Chien du

-Capitaine" was progressing.

-

-"Oh, Nell!" she said.

-

-The French dictionary lay face downwards on the

-broad window-sill; "Le Chien" was face upward on

-Nell's knee, but on the top of it was "Not Wisely,

-but too Well."

-

-"Oh!" said Nell, with a gasp, her eyes misty, her

-cheeks flushed,—"oh, it's no use scolding, Meg,—I

-absolutely must finish this; I'm just where Kate

-is—Oh, Meg, you *are* horrid!"

-

-For Meg had taken forcible possession of the dark

-green book, and had picked up the dictionary.

-

-"You know you are not to read in the morning,"

-she said; "and I don't think you ought to read a love

-story like this till you're eighteen at least.  Really,

-Nellie, it's no use me pretending to overlook you;

-you've done one page of 'The Dog' in three mornings.

-I'll have to tell father I must give up the pretence of

-teaching."

-

-"Here, give it to me," Nellie said, sighing

-wistfully; "it ought to be called 'The Pig,' I think,

-it's so detestable.  Put 'Not Wisely' on the table,

-Miggie, so I can see the title and get occasional

-refreshment."

-

-Then Meg returned to the "Privilege of Burial."  Her

-first thought, when she had read the piece

-through, was that Browning was not a true poet,

-however great a man he might be; and her second

-that Allan Courtney must be exceedingly clever to be

-able to enjoy such reading; her third was sorrow at

-the poor brains she felt she must possess not to be

-able to enjoy it too.

-

-She tried another at random—"Popularity."  It

-was rather better she decided, though she had no very

-clear idea of the meaning; and oh! that terrible last

-verse,—was it an enigma, or could clever people see

-the sense instantly?—

-

-   |  "Hobbs hints blue—straight he turtle eats:

-   |  Nobbs prints blue—claret crowns his cup

-   |  Nokes outdares Stokes in azure feats,—

-   |  Both gorge.  Who fished the murex up?

-   |      What porridge had John Keats?"

-   |

-

-The deep sigh that accompanied the third vain

-reading of it, disturbed Peter in his occupation of

-putting flies in the ink, fishing them out, and letting

-them crawl over to Poppet.

-

-Poppet at her side of the table was similarly

-occupied, only she had captured a March-fly, and it

-made beautifully clear tracks right across to Peter.

-

-"Is your sum finished, Poppet?" Meg said abstractedly,

-pondering even as she spoke, what Keats,

-who was a god to her, had to do with porridge.

-

-Poppet put her hand over the March-fly and

-confessed it was not quite.

-

-"How many rows have you done?"

-

-The answer came in a whisper, "Not quite one."

-

-"I shall keep you in to do it then after four,"

-Meg said in her sternest voice; "and, *Peter*, look at

-your copy."

-

-In the excitement of getting the half-drowned flies

-safely across Peter had made a landing-place of his

-copy-book, and great was the inkiness of it.

-

-"Oh, bleth it!" he said ruefully.

-

-.. _`"'PETER, LOOK AT YOUR COPY.'"`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-049.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'PETER, LOOK AT YOUR COPY.'"

-

-   "'PETER, LOOK AT YOUR COPY.'"

-

-Poppet's head was within an inch of her slate.

-She was working now at a startling pace, and

-counting on her fingers in a loud whisper.  What

-would Bunty say if he came home, and she was not

-there to ask how he had got on, and sympathise with

-the red marks that were sure to be on his hands?

-

-Nellie had translated five lines, and was occupied

-in a vain search for the dictionary meaning of

-*pourra*.

-

-"I believe it's 'pour,' and 'ra' is a misprint that's

-got tacked on," she said, "or else this beautiful

-dictionary has left it out, there are ever so many

-words I can't find, Meg."

-

-"Oh," said Meg, her patience flying away on

-sudden wings, "what is the use of anything?  I

-won't teach you any more, any of you.  Peter wrote

-far better a month ago than he does now; Poppet's

-taken an hour to do a row of multiplication by six,

-and you are looking in the dictionary for *pourra*.

-It's simply wasting all my time to sit here."

-

-The problem, "who fished the murex up?" had

-not improved my eldest heroine's temper.  Her

-cheeks were pink, and her eyes sparkled, she threw

-out her hands in a little dramatic way.  "You can

-go, Peter, you can go and make mud pies of the

-universe, if you like; Poppet, you can go too, tear your

-dress, and climb as many trees as you please; Nellie,

-you can sit in front of the looking-glass the rest of

-the day and read every novel in the house,—why

-should *I* care?  I won't teach any more."

-

-She flung herself down on the old horse-hair sofa,

-opened her Browning, and turned her face to the wall.

-

-And they all went, not at first, but presently and

-by degrees.

-

-"The thaid we could," whispered Peter.

-

-"Did she *mean* it?" Poppet said doubtfully.

-

-"Of courth," said Peter; "I'm going, at any rate.

-The thaid I wath to; I'm not going to dithobey her,"

-and he slipped out on tip-toe.  Poppet worked to the

-end of the line by seven, then she remembered she

-had forgotten to "carry" all the way, and she grew

-afraid that Peter would get to the birds' eggs she

-was putting in compartments for Bunty.

-

-So she also, after a glance or two at her sister's

-back hair, slipped off her chair and stole softly

-away.

-

-And Nellie drew "Not Wisely" to her own end

-of the table with the aid of a long ruler; then she

-followed the example of her iniquitous juniors and

-departed noiselessly.

-

-It was nearly an hour before Meg turned round

-again.  She had lost herself in some wonderful

-poems now,—"The Flight of the Duchess," "By the

-Fireside," and some of the shorter love pieces; she

-began to see possibilities of beauty and enjoyment,

-and felt glad with a great gladness that she was able

-to appreciate them even in a slight degree.

-

-Then the silence struck her.  Surely if Poppet

-were doing her sum, her pencil would be squeaking;

-and surely if Peter were engaged as he should be

-on his copy, he would be breathing laboriously and

-giving occasional little impatient grunts to testify to

-each fresh blot.

-

-She looked round, and saw the deserted room.

-

-"Took me at my word!" she said aloud.  "They

-might have known I didn't mean it, young

-scamps,—Nellie too."

-

-Then she smiled indulgently.  The exquisite

-tenderness and the strength of the love pieces had

-softened and braced her at the same time.

-

-"They're very young," she said, as she went out

-after them, "and—really it's very hot."

-

-This was all in the morning.  At night there was

-another breeze.

-

-Bunty did not eat his pudding.  That of itself

-was phenomenal, for it was brown with sultanas

-and had citron peel at wide intervals; generally

-he managed three servings, and, even then, said they

-might have made it in a bigger basin.  But to-night

-he said "No pudding" in a sullen voice, and kicked

-the legs of his chair monotonously with his boot

-heels.

-

-"You might have the common politeness to say

-thank you, I think," said Nellie, who was officiating

-at nursery tea in Meg's absence.  "What a boor

-you are getting, John."

-

-"Oh, go and hang yourself," he returned.  He

-pushed his chair back from the table, and went out

-of the room with lowering brows.

-

-Poppet slipped down from her chair.

-

-"Sit down instantly, Poppet; do you think I'm

-going to allow you to behave like this?" Nellie

-cried.  "If John has no more manners than a

-larrikin, you are not to follow his example.  Sit down,

-I tell you, Poppet; *do* you hear me?"

-

-"Can't you see how white he is?" said the little

-girl, her lips trembling.  "Nellie, I can't stay—no, I

-don't want pudding."  She darted across the room

-and down the passage after him.

-

-The boys' bedrooms opened on to a long landing

-with a high staircase window at the end that looked

-straight out to the river and the great stretch of

-gum trees on the Crown lands.

-

-Bunty was standing staring out, his hands thrust

-in his pockets; the setting sun was on the stained

-window-panes, and his face looked ghastly in the

-red light.

-

-"Was it very bad?" said the little, tender voice

-at his elbow.

-

-He turned round, and looked at his young sister

-for a minute in silence.

-

-"Look here, Poppet," he said, and his voice

-sounded strange and strangled; "I know I tell lies

-and do mean things—I can't help it sometimes, I

-think I was made so; but I haven't done this new

-thing they say I have—Poppet, I swear I haven't."

-

-"I know you haven't," the loving voice said;

-"what is it, Bunty?"

-

-He gave her a fleeting, grateful glance.  "I can't

-tell you, old girl—you'll know soon enough,—every

-one thinks I have; it's no good me saying anything

-nothing's any good in the world."  He leaned his

-forehead on the cold window-pane and choked

-something down in his throat.  "To-morrow, Poppet,

-they'll say all sorts of things about me; but don't

-you believe them, old girl—will you?—whatever they

-say, Poppet—promise me."

-

-"I pwomise you, Bunty, faithf'lly," the little girl

-said, an almost solemn light in her eyes.  She could

-never remember Bunty quite like this before.  There

-was a despairing note in his voice, and really the red

-sunset light made his face look dreadful.

-

-"Give us a kiss, Poppet," he whispered, and put

-his face down on her little, rough, curly head.

-

-The child burst into tears of excitement and

-fright—everything seemed so strange and unreal.

-Bunty had never asked her for a kiss before in his

-life.  She clung to him sobbing, with her small, thin

-arms around his neck and her cheek against his.

-Both his arms were round her, he had lifted her

-up to him right off the ground, and his cheeks were

-almost as wet as hers.

-

-There was a step, and he set her down again and

-turned away.

-

-"Where are you going?" she asked half fearfully.

-

-"To bed," he said gruffly.  "My head aches.

-Good-night."

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`BETWEEN A DREAM AND A DREAM`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER V.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   BETWEEN A DREAM AND A DREAM.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "It isn't the thing you do, dear,

-   |    It's the thing you leave undone,

-   |  Which gives you a bit of heartache

-   |    At the setting of the sun—

-   |  The loving touch of the hand, dear,

-   |    The gentle and winsome tone,

-   |  That you had no time nor thought for,

-   |    With troubles enough of your own."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Such a troubled night poor little Poppet had.

-Twice she woke up with a stifled scream, and

-lay awake afterwards hot and trembling in the dark.

-The third time she slept, she dreamed Bunty had

-thrown a stone at the schoolmaster's house, which

-was all built of glass; she heard the crashing and

-splintering of it as it came down in a heap, forms,

-blackboards, boys, and masters, all flying in different

-directions.  Then a great voice that sounded like

-thunder asked if John Woolcot had done this, and

-all the world seemed listening for the answer.  And

-Bunty was standing near a great red window, with

-a frightened look on his face, and he said, "No, I

-never."  Then there was a loud shouting and hissing,

-and a dozen hands caught hold of the boy and

-hurried him away.

-

-"What are they going to do with him?" some

-one asked of a giant who was sitting peeling a

-cricket-ball as if it were an orange.  And the

-giant, who had Bully Hawkins' face, laughed,

-and said, "They're putting him in the guillotine;

-listen to that snap—his head has just fallen off;

-I'm going to have it for a ball because he wouldn't

-scout!"

-

-The snap that woke the poor dreaming child was

-the banging of the bedroom door.

-

-Nell had just come in, gone to the glass, given her

-hair a few pats and light touches, and hurriedly

-slipped on her best bronze shoes,—it was nine

-o'clock, and some late visitors had come—men with

-gold buttons.

-

-"Oh-h-h!" said the little sobbing figure, sitting

-up in bed.  "Oh-h-h—oh-h—oh, *Nellie*!"

-

-"Don't be silly, Poppet; go to sleep at once,"—the

-elder sister gave her a hasty pat.  "Lie down,

-and don't be naughty; you've been eating apples

-again late, I expect, and it's made you

-dream,—there, I must go."

-

-The child clung to her.

-

-"Bunty!" she said,—"is he dead?  did they

-take his head?—oh, Bunty!"

-

-"You silly little thing, don't I tell you you've been

-dreaming!"  Nellie laid her down impatiently and

-tucked the clothes round her.  "There, go to sleep;

-I have to go down, there are visitors.  I'll leave the

-candle if you like."

-

-Poppet put her head under the clothes and sobbed

-hysterically; the little, narrow bed with its spring

-mattress was shaking.

-

-"Oh!" said Nellie,—"oh dear, this *is* tiresome!

-Poppet, do you want anything?  Would you like

-a drink?—oh, I'm in such a hurry,—what is it,

-Poppet?  What's the use of being silly, now?

-When a dream's gone, it's gone.  Stop crying at

-once, or I shall be very angry, and go and leave

-you in the dark!"

-

-The bed shook even more violently.

-

-"M-M-Meg!" was the word that came with a

-choking sound from under the counterpane,—"oh,

-M-M-Meg!"

-

-"All right, I'll send her if you'll be good,—not

-for a minute or two, because she's talking to some

-gentlemen, but as soon as I can whisper to her.

-Here, drink this water before I go, and stop

-sobbing.  You're too big a girl to go on like this,

-Poppet."

-

-Nellie's voice had a stern note in it,—she thought

-kindness would make her cry more, and there really

-was not time to argue with her.

-

-.. _`"MEG CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF SOMETHING WHITE OUTSIDE BUNTY'S DOOR."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-059.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "MEG CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF SOMETHING WHITE OUTSIDE BUNTY'S DOOR."

-

-   "MEG CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF SOMETHING WHITE OUTSIDE BUNTY'S DOOR."

-

-Five, six, seven minutes slipped away after she

-had gone; then Meg came running lightly upstairs

-and into the room the child shared with Nellie.

-

-"She's too excitable—I'll have to make her go

-to bed earlier," she thought, as she crossed over to

-the tossed bed.  "Nightmare—poor little mite!"

-

-But there was only a pillow and a tossed heap

-of clothes—the bed was empty!

-

-"She's gone down for more light and company.

-How unkind of Nellie!" she said aloud, starting

-off in quest of her.  She looked in the different

-bedrooms as she passed, then in the nursery, which

-was brightly lighted but deserted.

-

-The boys' landing was in darkness; but at the

-end of it she caught a glimpse of something white

-outside Bunty's door.

-

-"Poppet!" she cried, hurrying down.  "Oh,

-Poppet, nothing on your feet, and only your

-nightgown!"

-

-She picked her up in her arms, nine years old

-though she was.

-

-But the child was nearly beside herself, and

-struggled back to the ground, beating with her

-small hands against the lower panels of the door.

-

-"Bunty!" she said, "Bunty!  Bunty!  Can't you

-hear me, Bunty?  Oh, Bunty!"

-

-"John!" Meg called sharply, "answer at once!"

-

-"What?" said Bunty's voice in its gruffest tone.

-"For goodness' sake leave me alone!  What on

-earth do you want?  Don't be an idiot, Poppet."

-

-The very gruffness and crossness of the reply

-reassured the child—it was so unmistakably Buntyish.

-Her sobs grew less and less wild—she even

-permitted Meg to lift her up in her arms again.

-

-"Good-night, Bunty," she said in a small voice

-with a pitiful hiccough at the end.

-

-"Oh, good-night," he said.

-

-And then Meg carried her off.

-

-Such a tender, gentle, soothing Meg she was,

-even though some one was waiting impatiently in

-the drawing-room and the evening was almost over.

-

-She took the child into her own room, and put

-her into her own bed with the pink rosebud

-hangings and pale pink mosquito nets that Poppet had

-always thought the prettiest things in the world.

-

-And she bathed her face with lavender-water, and

-sprinkled the same refreshing stuff on the white,

-frilled pillows, and talked to her in a pleasant,

-matter-of-fact way that dispelled the horrors of the

-night entirely.

-

-The little girl told her dream.  She longed to pour

-all Bunty's troubles into this dear, big sister's ear!

-But that of course was forbidden.

-

-One thing she did venture to say, as she lay

-cuddled up with her face luxuriously against Meg's

-soft breast.

-

-"Dear Megsie, couldn't you be sweet and dear

-to Bunty too?  Poor Bunty, everybody gets on to him."

-

-"My pet, he won't let people be nice to him,"

-said Meg in a troubled way.

-

-"I don't mean kiss him or anything," the little

-girl said; "only don't call him 'John'—it's such an

-ugly name; and don't keep saying 'Don't!'; and

-don't let Nellie keep telling him he's dirty and

-clumsy,—please, dearest Megsie!"

-

-Meg kissed her silently.

-

-What a wise little child it was!  What a dear little

-child!  And oh, what a poor little child, for it had

-never in its life known a mother!

-

-Her thoughts leapt back across the years to that

-dear, fading memory of her mother.  She saw the

-bedroom, with the bright lights that seemed strangely

-painful in such a place.

-

-"I want to see them all, John, please," the voice

-from the pillows had said when the Captain moved

-away to turn the gas down; "it can't hurt me now."

-

-And they had gathered up close to the white

-pillows that gleamed with the loose, bright hair—all

-the little, frightened children,—herself, hardly

-thirteen; Pip in a sailor suit and his eyes red; little

-dear Judy with wild, bright eyes and trembling

-lips; Nellie with a headless doll clasped in her

-arms; Bunty in a holland pinafore stained with jam.

-

-Nobody heeded the tiny baby that lay just in the

-hollow of mother's arm,—what was a baby, even

-one almost new to them all, when mother was

-dying?

-

-But the next day, when all was over, and every one

-was tired of crying and feeling the world had stopped

-for them for ever, the strange nurse brought in the

-little lonely baby and gave it to Meg to nurse,

-because she was the eldest.

-

-"You'll have to be its mother now, little miss,"

-she said, as she laid it in all its long, many clothes

-in Meg's frightened arms.

-

-Its mother!

-

-The scene came vividly before Meg's eyes to-night,

-as she sat with the poor child close in her arms.

-

-She bent her head in an agony of shame and sorrow.

-

-How she had failed! how she had neglected,

-scolded, grown impatient with, laughed at, her little

-trust!  Loved her, of course; but life was such a

-confusing, busy, quarrelling, pleasure-seeking kind

-of thing at Misrule, and she had forgotten so often,

-and been so taken up with her own affairs, that she

-had not had time to "be a mother" to her little

-sister.

-

-"Oh, Poppet!" she said, in a voice full of

-passionate regret; and Poppet slipped her dear, thin

-little arms around her neck and clung closer, as if

-she almost knew what the trouble was.

-

-But presently the child fell asleep, and Meg

-stayed there, motionless, on the bed edge, looking

-down at the small, flushed cheeks, where the black

-lashes lay still heavy and wet.

-

-There was a strange look of Judy about the little

-face to-night, and altogether it made Meg forget the

-visitors downstairs, Alan, Nell's impatience,

-everything but the little dead mother and the knowledge

-that her place was not well filled.  She thought of

-Bunty, sullen, hard, untruthful, and growing more

-so every day—Bunty, whose nature no one but

-Poppet had a key to, and even hers would not

-always turn.

-

-If the little mother had lived, he would have been

-very different.  Poor lad! perhaps he was unhappy

-too—he had been even more gloomy and silent than

-usual these last few days; she would go to him now,

-and try to get into his confidence by degrees.

-

-She slipped Poppet's little warm hand out of her

-own and put it softly on the pillow.

-

-"Well, this *is* too bad of you," said Nellie, putting

-her head into the door.  "You've no regard for

-appearances, really, Meg.  It's an hour since you

-left the room, and I've been making excuses for you

-all the time.  Why don't you come down?  There's

-only Esther and me to entertain them all, and Alan

-Courtney's been looking at the photograph album

-for half an hour, and not spoken a word.  You are

-too bad.  Sitting here with Poppet all this time—she's

-asleep too.  Talk about spoiling the children!"

-

-Meg got up, her eyelashes wet, her face very

-sweet in its new gravity.

-

-"I sha'n't come down again," she said in a low

-tone.  "Tell them Poppet was not well, and I had

-to stay with her; indeed, I cannot come, Nellie."

-

-Nellie glanced at her impatiently; she did not

-understand the strange, moved look on her sister's

-face—it had been unclouded and laughing an hour

-ago; how could she guess she had been holding

-hands with the dead all this little while?

-

-Besides, her conscience reproached her about

-poor little Poppet, and it made her feel irritable.

-

-"I never saw any one like you for moods, Meg,"

-she said crossly.  "A minute ago you were laughing

-and talking to Alan Courtney, and now you're

-looking like a funeral hearse; and I think it's very

-rude not to come down and say good-night.  They

-asked me to sing the 'Venetian Boat Song' too, and

-you know I can't play my own accompaniment."

-

-"Dear Nell, another night," Meg whispered; "and

-hush, you will disturb Poppet.  Go down again

-yourself now, or Esther will be vexed.  Wish

-them good-night for me; I have to speak to Jo—Bunty."

-

-Nellie's face still looked vexed.  She had practised

-her somewhat difficult song, and was ambitious to

-sing it since they all pressed her so.

-

-"I can see Alan thinks it strange of you vanishing

-like that," she said grumblingly.  "He told me to

-be sure to make you come down again."

-

-Then Meg blushed—a beautiful, warm, tender

-blush that crept right up to the little straying curls

-on her forehead.  They had been talking about

-books, she and Alan, before she came upstairs; and

-in a sudden fit of petulance with herself she had

-said she was "a stupid, ignorant thing, and would

-not talk to him about books again, because she

-knew he was laughing at her for knowing so little."

-

-And oh! what was it his eyes had said when they

-flashed that one quick, eager look into hers? what

-was it that softly breathed "Meg" had meant?

-

-Nellie had whispered in her ear the next second,

-"Poppet's crying herself nearly into a fit for you;

-can you go to her for a minute?"

-

-It seemed almost a week ago now since she had

-gone.  In some indefinable way she seemed to have

-grown older in that one hour, to have got away from

-all these things that had engrossed her before.

-

-"Come on; why *shouldn't* you?" Nell said persuasively,

-quick to take advantage of that sudden blush.

-

-Just a moment Meg hesitated,—it would be very

-sweet to go down to the room again and lose this

-heavy-heartedness in "the delight of happy laughter,

-the delight of low replies."

-

-But poor, misunderstood Bunty whom they all

-"got on to"—her neglected duty!  Had she any

-right to be enjoying herself just now, any right to

-chase away these new feelings?

-

-She turned away with a sudden lifting of head.

-

-"No, I am not coming; say good-night for me."

-

-"Stay away then," said Nellie in exasperation.

-So Meg went down the landing once more to the

-boys' end.

-

-"Bunty," she said, knocking softly, "I want to

-come in; may I?"

-

-There was an impatient grunt inside.

-

-"What on earth do you want?  Can't you give a

-fellow a bit of peace?  What are you after now?

-Yes, I've put my dirty socks in the linen basket."

-

-"It isn't that, Bunty; I only want to talk to you

-for a little."  Meg's voice was very even and patient.

-

-But "Blow being talked to!" was Bunty's grateful

-and polite reply.  He was weary of sisterly

-"talkings."

-

-"I'm not going to lecture you or anything like

-that, Bunty.  I *wish* you'd open the door.  What

-have you fastened yourself in for?"  Meg beat a

-little tattoo on the wood and rattled the handle.

-

-"What a nuisance you are, Meg; why on earth

-can't you go away and let a fellow be quiet?  I'm

-not going to open the door, so there."  His voice

-sounded from the bed across the room; he had not

-even attempted to come near the door.

-

-"Oh, very well," said Meg, seeing it was useless,

-to-night, at least, with that barrier of pine between

-them.

-

-"Good-night, old fellow.  I don't see why you

-should be so grumpy with me."

-

-"I'll talk to him to-morrow," she said, as she

-went downstairs with a free heart to the

-drawing-room again.

-

-But, alas! to-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow!

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`TO-MORROW`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER VI

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   TO-MORROW.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "What's done we partly may compute,

-   |    But know not what's resisted."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-They did not find it out till nearly nine o'clock.

-

-Bunty was frequently late for his breakfast,

-so no one remarked upon his absence this particular

-morning.  Only Meg kept his coffee hot, and sent his

-chop back to the kitchen to be put in the oven—an

-unusual piece of consideration, for she used to say

-he deserved everything to be cold and greasy if he

-got up so late.

-

-But Nellie, who was cutting the sandwiches as

-usual for his school lunch, cried out for him.  "I

-can't find John's lunch serviette anywhere," she

-said, putting in a generous supply of fat beef.

-"I ask him every day to leave it out of his bag.

-What a tiresome boy he is!  I won't give him

-another one this morning; he had one yesterday."

-

-"Poppet, go and tell John he'll be late for

-school," Meg said.  "Tell him it's a quarter to

-nine—he won't have time to eat his breakfast."  Poppet

-departed, her own bright merry self again;

-the events of last night had vanished from her with

-her dreams.

-

-But she came back with a half-startled face.

-"He's not there, Meg; his hat's gone too, and his

-school-bag.  I 'spect he got something in the pantry

-and went early; perhaps there is something on at

-school; and—and—I think he must have made his

-bed himself, because—it—it's made."

-

-She looked half pitifully, half eagerly at Meg, as

-if asking for a denial of her horrible suspicions.

-"Come and look," she said.

-

-Meg got up and followed her; Nellie laid down

-the breadknife and went too,—it was beyond credence

-that Bunty should be up early and make his own

-bed.  Peter and Essie brought up the rear, of

-course.

-

-"It—it's very strange," Meg said, her face quite

-pale as she looked round the room.  The bed had

-evidently not been slept in, for no boy could have

-made it look as neat as it did; it was just as Martha

-had left it yesterday morning.  There was a suit

-missing—not his best one, but the one he wore

-alternate weeks at school—a couple of shirts too, and

-some socks and collars.  Nellie darted to his little

-red post-office money-box; it had been prised

-open—he had lost the key long since—and was empty.

-

-"He had two and fourpenth ha'penny in it," said

-Peter, "cauth I athked him one day."

-

-"He's run away," said Nellie.  "Oh, the bad,

-wicked boy!"

-

-"Hush," said Meg.  She feared for the effect

-the blow would have on Poppet, and caught the

-child's hand and drew her to her side.

-

-"Run away!" repeated Poppet.

-

-Every vestige of colour had dropped out of her

-face; it wore a strained, unchildlike look, and her

-eyes were heavy.

-

-Meg drew her closer still and stroked her hair.

-

-"Perhaps it's a mistake, dear.  Oh, he's only

-gone to school, or camping, or something, and didn't

-tell us; there's no need to trouble," she said.  But

-she felt terribly uneasy.

-

-Poppet did not look up.  She was thinking of

-the red-stained window and the kiss last night—thinking

-of the school troubles, and the boy's strange

-behaviour, and hints at worse.

-

-There was a loud, angry voice calling from the

-nursery, and every one trooped back in amaze.

-What was the Captain doing in their own special

-room at breakfast-time?

-

-Esther was there, too, with horrified eyes, and

-Pip with a look of fierce disgust on his face.

-

-How red their father's face was! how his moustache

-bristled!  Peter shrank close up behind Meg, and

-wondered if it was about yesterday's lessons.

-

-"Father," Meg said, white to the lips, "what *is*

-the matter?  Esther, can't you speak?  Oh, Pip,

-what is it?"

-

-"Matter!" shouted her father; "I'm disgraced—we're

-all disgraced.  Where is he?  Heavens!  I'll

-cut the skin off his back!  Peter, get my horsewhip;

-he's no son of mine!  I'll turn him off—I'll have

-him locked up.  Where is he? where is the young

-thief?  Only let me get hold of him.  Bring him

-here at once, Pip.  Where's that horsewhip,

-Peter?"

-

-"He's run away, we think," Nellie said in a

-trembling voice; and there was a great silence for

-two minutes, broken only by a very deep breath from

-Poppet.  Then Meg's voice was heard.

-

-"What has he done?" she said, "because—because—oh,

-indeed, I believe we have all been

-misunderstanding the poor boy."

-

-"Misunderstanding!" echoed her father, with

-almost a snort of anger.  "Read that, miss, and

-don't talk nonsense!"

-

-.. _`"'READ THAT, MISS, AND DON'T TALK NONSENSE!'"`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-073.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'READ THAT, MISS, AND DON'T TALK NONSENSE!'"

-

-   "'READ THAT, MISS, AND DON'T TALK NONSENSE!'"

-

-He passed her a letter that had just been brought

-him, and Meg read it and grew pale; Nellie read it

-and crimsoned; Poppet picked it up in her little

-shaking hands and looked piteously from one to the

-other,—that black, thick writing—oh, what was it

-all about?

-

-Meg told her afterwards, for it was no use trying

-to put the child off, and indeed it seemed she knew

-more than they did.

-

-The letter was from the head master.  It stated

-everything that Bunty had confessed to Poppet

-about the broken window and glass cases, about the

-lie he had told when taxed with it.  But then the

-terrible part came.  On the desk five sovereigns were

-lying in a little heap when the master was called

-out of the room; it was one of the boys' fees, and

-the master was in the act of entering the amount

-in the book when he was sent for.  He was detained

-a quarter of an hour, and when he returned the

-window and the glass cases were broken, and the

-money had gone!

-

-Now there was no one on the top floor at all

-during the time, it seemed—that was the mystery

-that had puzzled every one.  But then it came

-out that Hawkins, who was waiting in Mr. Burnham's

-own room for his caning, had seen John

-Woolcot come creeping down the stairs just after

-the crash, with a white face and the cricket-ball in

-his hand.  Woolcot, too, when he found his lie of

-no avail, had confessed to the smashing, but denied

-having taken the money.  The head master regretted

-having to perform such a painful duty as communicating

-the intelligence to his father; but there seemed

-no doubt that the boy had committed the theft, and

-under the circumstances perhaps it would be wiser

-if he were removed from the school.

-

-No wonder the Captain raved and stormed! no

-wonder Esther and the elder girls looked pale and

-horrified, and Pip disgusted beyond words!  He was

-guilty—there was no doubt of it in their minds.

-The fact of his running away was sufficient proof of

-it; and they all remembered his strange behaviour

-yesterday.  It was in vain poor little Poppet

-protested again and again and again that "he didn't do

-it—oh, indeed he didn't do it.  Yes, he had broken

-the glass; and yes, he had told a lie; but oh, indeed

-he had not stolen."

-

-"How do you know, miss?" her father said

-sharply; "what proof have you that he didn't?"

-

-"He told me he didn't," said the poor little mite.

-"Oh, he *said* he didn't,—oh, why won't you believe

-it?  Meg, I tell you he *said* he didn't."

-

-But even Meg could not believe, so lightly was

-Bunty's word held amongst them.

-

-For the first day the Captain was too angry even

-to attempt to find traces of his son.  He declared he

-would never own him again, never have him inside

-his doors.

-

-But afterwards, of course, he saw this was

-impossible, and he put the matter in the hands of the

-police, gave them a full description of the lad's

-personal appearance, and offered a reward for

-finding him.

-

-To the head master of the school he sent a curt

-note stating the boy had run away, so he could

-make no inquiries, and enclosing a cheque for five

-pounds to make up for what was lost.  Of course

-the cheque was a tacit acknowledgment of his

-guilt.

-

-A week slipped away without any clue being

-found.  Then a detective brought news.

-

-A boy answering to the written description had

-gone on board a vessel to San Francisco as cabin

-boy the very day in question.  There seemed no

-doubt as to his identity.  The Captain said it was

-the best thing that could have happened.  It was

-a rough ship, and the boy would have exceedingly

-hard work and discipline—it might be the making

-of him.  He sent a cable to reach the captain in

-America, when the boat arrived, to ask him to

-see the lad was brought safely back in the same

-capacity.

-

-And then everything at Misrule resumed its

-ordinary course.  Bunty was safe, though they

-could not hear of him or see him for four or five

-months; it was no use being unsettled any longer.

-

-But Poppet made a small discovery one day.

-She found her little money-box empty under her

-own bed, with a bit of dirty paper stuck in the slit.

-"I'll pay you back," it said in Bunty's straggling

-hand; "you said you'd lend me the thirteen shillings.

-I have to go, Poppet; it's no good stopping here—no

-one believes you.  Don't forget what you promised.

-You can have my tortoise for your own.  It's

-in the old bucket under the house.  Don't forget to

-feed it; it likes bits of meat as well as bread.  I'd

-like to say good-bye, but you always cry and make

-a fuss, and I have to go.  You're the only one worth

-anything anywhere.  Oh, and don't forget to change

-its water often,—well water has more insects in

-than tap."

-

-"Don't forget what you promised," repeated

-Nell, as she read the almost undecipherable epistle

-in her turn.  "What did you promise, Poppet?"

-

-"That I would believe him," the little girl said,

-with a sweet, steadfast look in her eyes.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`A LITTLE MAID-ERRANT`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER VII.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   A LITTLE MAID-ERRANT.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "There's nothing on earth half so holy

-   |  As the innocent heart of a child."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-It was in the midst of morning lessons soon after

-at the Beltham Grammar School that an odd

-thing happened.

-

-It was very hot; not a breath of wind came in at

-the open doors and windows—nothing but the blazing

-sunlight that lay in hot patches on the floor, and

-slowly baked blackboards and slates and desks.

-It was a very long room, this "Great Hall," as they

-called it; half-a-dozen classes were at work in it,

-with as many masters; and at the end, on a little,

-raised platform, sat Mr. Burnham in front of his

-desk.  He was looking through the Euclid exercises

-of the fourth form, and his brow kept criss-crossing

-with lines of annoyance at any noise,—the hot,

-slumbrous air was quite enough to bear, without

-the occasional down-crashing of a pile of slates or

-the upsetting of a form.

-

-Then came the loud note of the locust—the

-whir-r-r, and pen-inimitable sound of its wings,

-inside the room, not out.  Who had dared to bring

-one of the prohibited creatures into school, after the

-endless penalties that had been imposed for the

-offence?  Mr. Burnham scored a red line through

-one of the exercises and stood up in his place, a

-heavy frown on his face.

-

-And at the same moment a very small shadow

-fell just inside the entrance door at the far end of

-the room, and a very small knock sounded there.

-Nobody said "Come in," though a hundred and

-fifty pairs of eyes went in the direction with the

-swiftness natural to gratitude for any break in

-the monotony of morning school.  Then there

-stepped over the threshold a little, slight

-girl,—a little girl with a very short, holland frock, a

-great sun-hat, and no gloves; a little girl with a

-white, small face, great frightened eyes shining

-strangely, and soft lips very tightly closed.  Up

-the long, long room she went, both little hands

-held tightly together in front of her.  No one could

-tell from the way she walked how her poor little

-knees were shaking and her poor little heart was

-beating.

-

-For a minute Mr. Burnham's frown did not

-disappear—not till he noticed how white her face was;

-he told himself he had never seen a child's face

-so white in all his life.

-

-"What is it, little girl?" he said, and really

-thought he made his voice quite gentle and

-encouraging, though to Poppet it sounded terrible.

-

-"I——" she said—"you——"  Something rose

-in her throat that would not be strangled away,

-her face grew even whiter, and her lips, white

-too, twitched a little, but the words would not

-come.

-

-He took her hand, the little trembling, shut, brown

-hand, and held it between his own.

-

-"There is nothing to be afraid of, my child; tell

-me what it is you want"; he drew her closer to the

-desk, and sat down.  He seemed less formidable in

-that position than towering above her—his eyes

-looked strangely kind; could it really be the terrible

-Mr. Burnham she had heard so much about?  The

-hand he held fluttered a minute, then her lips moved

-again:

-

-"Bunty didn't do it," she said in a whisper.

-

-"Eh? what?" he said, mystified.

-

-"He didn't do it—Bunty didn't do it—oh, indeed."

-

-"But who is Bunty? and who are you, my little

-maid?" Mr. Burnham said, with a smile that lit up

-his thoughtful eyes.

-

-"He's my brother," she said in a voice that had

-gained a little strength.

-

-.. _`"'BUNTY DIDN'T DO IT,' SHE SAID IN A WHISPER."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-081.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'BUNTY DIDN'T DO IT,' SHE SAID IN A WHISPER."

-

-   "'BUNTY DIDN'T DO IT,' SHE SAID IN A WHISPER."

-

-Then it struck her Bunty was not so called at

-school.

-

-"His name's John Woolcot," she added, with

-downcast eyes; "I'm Poppet."

-

-Then Mr. Burnham remembered everything, and

-his eyes grew stern as he thought of the boy there

-had been so much trouble with; but they softened

-as they fell again on the little, white, eager face.

-

-"And his little sister is taking up his cudgels;

-thankless work, I'm afraid—eh?" he said quizzically.

-

-Poppet was calm now,—the worst part of the ordeal

-was over, and she had actually gained the dread

-head master's ear; she must make the most of her

-time.

-

-"Won't you believe him?" she said; "indeed he

-didn't do it—oh, indeed."

-

-"What?" he asked,—"break the window—tell

-a lie—anything?  Why, my little child, he owned

-to it."

-

-"Yes," said Poppet, "he bwoke the glass, I know;

-and yes, he did tell one story."  Her face fell after

-the last sentence, and a little red crept into her cheek.

-"But he didn't take the money—oh no, no!—oh,

-Bunty wouldn't be a thief—oh, not for anything and

-anything—oh, indeed."

-

-The boys were staring at the little, white-faced

-girl at the head master's desk, though they could

-not hear what was being said.

-

-"Would you like to come and talk to me

-privately?" Mr. Burnham said.

-

-And "Oh-h-h!" was Poppet's only answer; but

-the gratitude in her eyes was so intense, he guessed

-a little what the ordeal had been to her.

-

-Away down the long room she went again, only

-this time her hand was being held in a firm, kindly

-grasp.

-

-"Oh!" she said again, when near the door a

-great, slouching fellow with a big head moved to

-help another boy with a blackboard.

-

-"What?" said Mr. Burnham, when they were

-outside; he had noticed her intense interest.

-

-"Was that Bull-dog Hawkins—the fellow that

-told?" she said.

-

-He smiled somewhat; Hawkins was not a

-favourite of his, and the fitting name sounded odd

-on the little girl's lips.

-

-"His name is Hawkins," he said; "and yes, he

-gave the information; but that has nothing to do

-with it, my child.  Now, tell me what it is you have

-to say."

-

-He had taken her into a little room the walls of

-which were lined with books; he drew up a chair for

-himself, and one for her, but she preferred standing

-against his knee.

-

-Almost she convinced him, so great was the belief

-in her shining eyes, so utterly unshaken her trust.

-She told him everything, and he listened patiently

-and attentively even to the smallest detail, asking

-a question here and there, but for the most part

-letting her tell her story in her own way.

-

-When she told of the kiss by the staircase window,

-she broke down a little; but he slipped his arm round

-her waist, and she shed her tears on his coat

-sleeve,—how Bunty would have stared!  She showed the

-dirty scrap of paper, and he read it thoughtfully.

-

-"If only he had never told a lie before," he said,

-"then perhaps——"

-

-Oh, if only she could have flung back her head

-and said, "He has never told a lie in his life, sir;

-never—never!"

-

-Shame at not being able to do so made the dear,

-curly head droop a little, and two more tears forced

-their way from under her eyelids and fell sadly

-down her cheek.

-

-"I'm sure he never will again!" she said, with

-sorrowful hopefulness.  "But, oh, sir, he couldn't

-be a thief!  Oh, how *could* he?"

-

-"Well, I don't see how he could be altogether

-bad with such a little sister," he said slowly.

-"What sort of a boy is he at home?  Is he good

-to you?"

-

-"Oh yes," said Poppet,—"oh yes, indeed!"

-

-And it is a fact that not a single act that disproved

-this came to the little girl's mind.  She remembered

-nothing but the times he had been good to her.

-

-"Twice I was sent to bed without tea, and he

-bwought me all his pudding in some newspaper,"

-she said eagerly; "and when I had difeeria, and

-they wouldn't let him in, he used to climb up the

-creeper when no one was in the room and smile at

-me through the window.  An' another time I was

-ill he sat on the mat outside the door all night;

-Meg found him in the morning asleep with his head

-on the oilcloth.  An' when it was my birthday—I

-was nine—and he had no money, so he sold his

-guinea-pigs to one of the fellows—and he liked them

-better than anything he'd got—and he went and

-bought me a doll's pwambulator, 'cause Peter

-smashed mine with filling it with stones.  Oh, and

-lots and lots and lots of things!  He was *vewy*

-good to me—oh, indeed!"

-

-Such a flushed, little, eager face it was now—such

-a fluent little tongue that told of Bunty's goodness!

-The child's beautiful trust, affection, and courage

-had quite touched the head master's heart.

-

-He took a bunch of keys from his pocket.

-

-"You are a dear, brave, little girl, Poppet," he

-said.  "By the way, haven't you a prettier name

-than that?"

-

-"Oh, it's Winifred, of course, really," said Poppet.

-

-"Something in a name," he said, half to himself.

-Then aloud:

-

-"Well, Winifred, then, just because you have

-believed in your brother and done this for him, I

-am going to reward you in the way I know will

-gladden you most."

-

-He unlocked a tin box on the table, and counted

-out five sovereigns, while the surprise in Poppet's

-eyes deepened every minute.

-

-"Have you a purse?" he asked.

-

-"No," she said in a very low tone.  It made her

-feel fit to cry to think he should give her money,

-even such a large, beautiful amount, for doing this.

-

-"Because I want you to give this to Captain

-Woolcot," he continued, "and tell him I have had

-reason to doubt whether John was guilty, and until

-I am perfectly sure it is not fair to the lad to take it."

-

-How Poppet's eyes shone, albeit the tears were

-not dry! how her lips smiled and quivered! and how

-the glad, warm colour rushed all over her little,

-sweet face!  Not a word of thanks she said, and

-he would not have had it; only she clung very tightly

-to his arm for a minute, and hid her face.  When

-he saw it, he felt he had had more than thanks.

-

-And that was not all he did.  He took her back

-with him to the schoolroom, and walked up to the

-raised platform, and held her hand all the time.

-

-"Boys," he said, in his clear, far-carrying voice,

-"I have reason to believe that John Woolcot is not

-guilty of the theft that you have all heard of.  I

-wish you all to give him the benefit of the doubt,

-since he is not here to clear himself.  For my part,

-I believe him innocent."

-

-How the boys cheered!  It was not that Bunty

-was a special favourite, though he had his own

-friends; but they felt it was expected of them, and

-it was another break in the monotony to be able

-to do so.  Besides, they felt a vague pity and

-admiration for the little girl standing there, with

-such a smiling, tear-wet face.

-

-After that Mr. Burnham took her all the way

-home to Misrule himself.  Meg and Nellie went into

-the drawing-room to see him, and Poppet slipped

-away.  He told them what the child had done,

-praised her high courage and simple faith.  "If,"

-he said, as he took his leave an hour later,—"if all

-my boys had such sisters as little Poppet is, my

-school would be a better place, and later, the world."

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`ONE PARTICULAR EVENING`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER VIII.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   ONE PARTICULAR EVENING.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "O world, as God has made it!  All is beauty,

-   |  And knowing this is love, and love is duty."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-It was Peter who first noticed Meg's face one

-particular evening.  He and Poppet were doing,

-or making a pretence of doing, preparation for the

-next day, and Nellie was reading a novel in the

-only armchair the nursery held.

-

-Meg came in at nine o'clock—nearly an hour

-past the usual time to send the little ones to bed.

-"Thust look at Meg'th fathe!" Peter said, and

-rounded his eyes at her.  Of course every one

-looked instantly.

-

-It was like a blush rose.  A delicate, exquisite

-flush had crept over it, her eyes were soft and

-dewy, her lips unsteady.

-

-"Peter dear, come to bed; now, Poppet," she

-said; and even in her voice there was a new note.

-

-Nellie laid down her book and looked at her

-sister in surprise.  She had only just discovered she

-was beautiful.  Hitherto it had seemed to be tacitly

-allowed that she herself had monopolised the good

-looks of the family; so to discover this sudden beauty

-in Meg rather amazed her.

-

-She looked to see if it had anything to do with

-her dress; no, she had worn it scores of times

-before.  It was a muslin, pale blue, rather

-old-fashioned in make, for the body fitted plainly with

-the exception of a slight gathering at the neck.

-The skirt was very long, and ended in a crossway

-frill at the hem,—how graceful it made her look!

-In her waistband she had stuck some cornflowers

-vividly blue.

-

-And her hair!  Nellie devoted a surprisingly long

-time daily to the erection of an elaborate coiffeur

-on her own beautiful head; but surely Meg's had a

-grace of its own, from its very simplicity.  It was

-drawn back loosely that it might wave and curl as

-it pleased, and then was twisted into a shining knot

-halfway down her head.

-

-And that exquisite pink in her cheeks!

-

-"Oh, Meg!" Nellie said, half guessing, half shy.

-

-"Dear Peter—oh, Poppet, do come!" Meg entreated.

-The pink had deepened, her eyes had

-grown distressful.  Both children rose and followed

-her without a word; they had the native delicacy

-that every unspoiled child possesses.

-

-But Nellie had lost interest in her book,—what

-was a fictitious tale of love, when she might hear of

-one in real life within these very walls?

-

-She went downstairs and into the drawing-room.

-"Who's in the study, Esther?  I can hear voices,"

-she said sharply.

-

-Esther was reading, lying on the sofa, her dark,

-beautiful head against the yellow, frilled cushions.

-She turned a leaf before she replied.

-

-"Oh, only father and Alan Courtney," she said,

-with a studiously matter-of-fact air.

-

-"I *thought* so!" Nell exclaimed, with a deep

-breath; then she sat down at the foot of the sofa

-and looked at Esther.

-

-"Well?" Esther said, feeling the gaze before

-she reached the end of the next page; then she

-smiled.

-

-"Is he really asking father?" Nell asked breathlessly.

-

-"I'm not at the keyhole," Esther replied.

-

-"And I wish I was," Nell said with fervour.

-

-Then they looked at each other again, and again

-Esther smiled.  "How pretty she looked to-night!"

-she said meditatively.

-

-"Very, very," Nell answered eagerly; "why, I

-couldn't help staring at her."

-

-"I'm very fond of Alan myself; he's a thoroughly

-good fellow.  I think they are excellently suited," the

-young stepmother said.

-

-Nellie was silent a minute.  "I wish he looked

-older," she said; "thirty is the proper age for a

-man, *I* think.  And I'd rather he had a long, fair

-moustache; his eyes are not bad; but I wish he

-wouldn't rumple his hair up straight when he gets

-excited."

-

-Esther smiled indulgently at Nellie's idea of a

-hero.

-

-"As long as he makes her happy," she said, "I'll

-forgive him for being clean-shaved.  Why are you

-looking at me like that, Nell?"

-

-"I was thinking how very pretty you are yet,

-Esther," was the girl's answer, spoken thoughtfully.

-Esther's beauty did strike her on occasion, and

-to-night, with the dark, bright face and rich, crinkly

-hair in relief against the cushions, it was especially

-noticeable.

-

-"Yet," repeated Esther, "I'm not very old, Nell,

-am I?  Twenty-five is not very old."  Her eyes

-looked wistfully at the very young lovely face of

-her second step-daughter.

-

-"Oh no, dear—oh no, Esther," said Nell, quick

-to notice the wistfulness; "why, of course it is very

-young; only—oh, *Essie*!"

-

-"What?" said Esther in surprise.

-

-"How *could* you marry father?"  She crept up

-closer, and put her shining head down beside the

-dark one.  "Of course I don't want to hurt your

-feelings, but really he is so very middle-aged and

-ordinary; were you really in *love*, Essie?"

-

-But Esther was spared the embarrassing answer

-by the entrance of the Captain and Alan.

-

-You all saw Alan last five years ago, when he

-used to go on the river boat every morning to his

-lectures at the university.  His face is even more

-earnest and grave than before; life is a serious

-business to this young doctor, and the only

-relaxations he allows himself are football and Meg.

-

-His eyes are grey, deeply set; his patients and

-Meg think them beautiful.  His dark hair has a

-wave in it, and is on end, for of course he has been

-somewhat excited.

-

-The Captain does not look unamiable.

-

-Alan has only just begun to practise, certainly;

-but then he has three hundred a year of his own,

-and his prospects are spoken of as brilliant.  Still,

-he has the air of having grudgingly conferred a

-favour, and he goes out to smoke his cigar and

-think it over.

-

-"All well?" ask Esther's arched eyebrows.  And

-"All is well" Alan answers with a grave, pleasant

-smile.

-

-"Dear boy, I *am* so glad," she says.  There is a

-moisture in her dark eyes as she gives him her

-hand, for Meg is very dear to her.

-

-.. _`"HE BENDS HIS TALL, BOYISH-LOOKING HEAD SUDDENLY, AND KISSES THE HAND HE HOLDS."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-093.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "HE BENDS HIS TALL, BOYISH-LOOKING HEAD SUDDENLY, AND KISSES THE HAND HE HOLDS."

-

-   "HE BENDS HIS TALL, BOYISH-LOOKING HEAD SUDDENLY, AND KISSES THE HAND HE HOLDS."

-

-He looks at her in silence for a minute; then he

-bends his tall, boyish-looking head suddenly, and

-kisses the hand he holds.

-

-"I am glad too," Nellie whispers, with something

-like a sob in her throat; she too holds out her hand.

-

-"Dear little Nell!" he says; and such a happy

-light is in the eyes that look down at her that she

-quite forgives his lack of good looks.  "Dear little

-Nell!"

-

-He does not kiss *her* hand—it is too little and

-childish, he considers; but he stoops and takes a

-first brotherly kiss from the soft cheek nearest to

-him, and though she blushes a little, she is

-impressed with the dignity that attaches to a future

-brother-in-law.

-

-Then he goes.  Meg has refused to be visible again

-to-night to him, and Nellie flies up the staircase.

-

-"*Dear* Meg," she pleads at the door—it is locked,

-and doesn't open for a minute.

-

-But the tone turns the key, and the sisters are

-in each other's arms.

-

-Just the room you might expect Meg to have.

-It is fresh, simple, and daintily pretty.  The floor is

-covered with white China matting; the bed hangings

-have loose pink roses on a white ground; the pillows

-have hem-stitched frills.  There is a bookcase on

-one wall, in which the poets preponderate; the

-dressing-table is strewn with the pretty odds and

-ends girls delight in; there is a writing-table that

-looks as if it is used often; and in the window

-stands a deep wicker chair with rose-pink cushions

-double frilled.

-

-On the walls there are some water-colours of Meg's

-own, pretty in colouring, but shaky as to perspective.

-Two lines she has illuminated herself,—

-

-   |  "Lord, help us this and every day

-   |  To live more nearly as we pray."

-

-The gold letters are a little uneven, perhaps; but she

-wears them in her heart besides, so it does not matter.

-There is an engraving in an oak and gold frame—"Songs

-of Love"; Meg loves the exquisite face of

-the singer, and the back of the sweet little child.

-There is a long photo-frame with a balcony rail:

-here is Essie all dimpled with her sauciest smile;

-Poppet and Peter's heads close together like two

-little bright-eyed birds; Nell, a little self-conscious

-with the camera so close; Esther looking absurdly

-girlish; Pip in his cap and gown when they were

-delightfully new.  Bunty always refused to put on

-an engaging smile and submit himself to the

-photographer, so he is not represented.

-

-And over the mantelpiece, in an ivory frame, is

-an old, fading likeness of a little thin girl with a

-bright face and mischievous eyes, and rough, curly

-hair—Judy at ten.

-

-It had taken all the time you have been looking

-at the room for the girls to kiss each other and say

-little half-laughing, half-crying words.  Then Nellie

-forced Meg into the wicker chair, and knelt down

-herself, with her arms round her sister's waist.

-

-"You darling," she said.  "Oh, Meg, how glad

-I am!  Dear, dear Meg, I do hope you'll be

-happy—impossibly happy."

-

-It was the first connected sentence either of them

-had spoken.

-

-"I couldn't be happier," was Meg's whisper.

-

-"But always, always, dear—even when your hair

-is white, and there are wrinkles here and here and

-here."  She touched the smooth cheeks and brow

-with tender fingers.

-

-There was a little silence fraught with love, the

-two bright heads leaning together; then Meg spoke,

-shyly, hesitatingly:

-

-"Alan—Nell dear—you do—like him?"

-

-"Oh, he's well enough—oh yes, I'm very fond

-of Alan," said Nell.  "Of course I don't consider

-him half good enough, though, for you."

-

-"Oh, Nellie!" Meg looked quite distressed.

-"Why, it is the other way, of course.  He is so

-clever—oh! you don't know how clever; and I am

-such a stupid thing."

-

-"Very stupid," assented Nellie; but her smile

-differed.

-

-"And he is always thinking of plans to do good

-to the lower classes.  Nell, you cannot think how

-miserable some of them are; though they don't half

-realise it, they get so dulled and weary.  Oh, Nellie

-dear, I *do* think he is the very best man in the

-world."  The young, sweet face was half hidden

-behind the deep cushion frill.

-

-"Well, you are the very best woman," Nell said

-very tenderly, and meant it indeed.

-

-Pretty giddy little butterfly, that she was just

-now, she often paused in her flights to wish she

-could grow just as sweet and good and true and

-unselfish as Meg without any trouble.

-

-"The *very* best woman," she repeated; but Meg's

-soft hand closed her lips and stayed there.

-

-"If you *knew* how I'm always failing," she said,

-with a deep sigh.

-

-"But the trying is everything," Nell said.

-

-Then there were more tender words and wishes,

-and Nellie went to bed, stealing on tip-toe down the

-passage, for time had flown on noiseless wings and

-the household was asleep.  And Meg took down the

-ivory frame, and put her lips to the laughing

-child-face.

-

-"Oh, Judy," she said, "I wish you knew.  Dear

-little Judy, I *wonder* if you know?"

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`THAT MISCHIEVOUS CUPID`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER IX.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   THAT MISCHIEVOUS CUPID.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   "For boys say, Love me or I die."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-University examinations are not things to

-be postponed with polite little notes like

-inconvenient balls or picnics.  And, given the early days

-of December, and a young man who steadfastly

-refused to acknowledge this fact, what use was it

-even to trouble to scan the lists?

-

-Of course Philip was plucked.

-

-In October he had brought down his father's

-wrath upon him by failing to get through in a class

-examination; and any one who had had experience

-of the Captain's would have thought that would

-have been quite enough to make him take a good

-place at the end of his second year.

-

-But, as I said, his name was conspicuous by its

-absence.

-

-"Oh, Philip!" Nell said, an accent of reproach

-on the first syllable; "and even that stupid Burton

-boy is through."

-

-"Oh, Pip!" said Meg.  "What *will* father say?"

-

-It was the day the lists were out at the university,

-and Philip had just communicated the agreeable

-intelligence to his sisters in the midst of his third

-pipe after dinner.

-

-And the strange part was, he did not seem to care

-twopence—the orthodox measure of indifference.

-

-He lolled back on the lounge, and made fantastic

-figures with the smoke from his pipe; he did not

-even seem to hear what the girls were saying.

-

-And when he came out of his father's study, after

-a *mauvais quart d'heure* of unusual elasticity, there

-was not a trace of repentance on his face, nothing

-but obstinacy in his eyes, and lips all pursed up

-for a careless whistle when the distance from the

-room should be respectable enough.

-

-But later on in the evening Meg caught a glimpse

-of his face when he thought he was quite unobserved,

-and its restless, unhappy look gave her a curious

-feeling of surprise and anxiety.

-

-She remembered all at once that she had quite

-forgotten of late to take an interest in this eldest

-brother of hers.

-

-The "time o' day" that it was just now in her

-life made it excusable, perhaps.  She had a latchkey

-to a little heaven of her own, where she might

-retreat whenever earth grew troublous or commonplace;

-sometimes she stayed there too long and

-grew forgetful.  And though she had taken Poppet

-as her special charge, and formed endless resolutions

-as to her future treatment of poor, prodigal Bunty,

-she had let Pip slip away.

-

-He was from home so much was the excuse she

-made to herself now—at lectures most of the day,

-and no one knew where in the evening; how could

-she be all she should to him?  She had kept a

-sisterly eye on his clothes, darned all manner of

-sweet little dreams into the heels and toes of his

-socks, and even embroidered him a 'varsity cap so

-that he should not be jealous of the one she had

-worked for Alan.

-

-But there she had stopped, and it struck her

-suddenly to-night that this big, tall fellow with the

-manly shoulders and boyish, unhappy face was

-almost as a stranger to her.

-

-Where had all his fun, his schoolboy teasings,

-his high spirits and absurdities, gone to?  Surely

-it was only yesterday he used to pull their hair and

-slaughter their dolls and come for three servings of

-pudding!

-

-She gazed at him with great earnestness as he

-sat motionless at the table, looking, not at the book

-before him, but straight opposite at the wall where

-Poppet had spilt the ink; and it came to her with

-a strange pang of pain that Pip, dear old madcap,

-merry Pip, was a man.

-

-All the young light had gone from his eyes; they

-were graver, sterner than the boy's eyes, and yet

-full of a troubled unrest.  Then his mouth was

-firmer, and it was not only the soft, dark line of an

-incipient moustache that made it seem so; the

-careless laughter lines around it no longer showed, his

-very lips seemed to have grown straighter.

-

-But even as Meg watched, all her heart in her

-eyes, those same lips unclosed, and a half

-tremulous curve of pain appeared at each corner and

-made them look very boyish again.  He put up

-his hand and pushed his crisp hair away from his

-forehead with a weary gesture.  She could look no

-longer.

-

-She went up to the table and slipped an arm

-round his shoulder.

-

-"Dear old fellow," she said; "oh, I am so sorry

-about the exam."

-

-"The exam.!" he repeated.  "Oh, you needn't

-bother, old girl; I don't care.  What's an

-exam. fifty years hence?"

-

-His lips were under his own control again.

-

-The girl's arm went from his shoulder to his neck.

-"Dear Pip, I wish you'd tell me things sometimes;

-don't shunt me altogether because I'm only your

-sister.  Pip, couldn't you tell me?  I know you're

-in trouble; couldn't I help a bit?  Dear old fellow,

-there's nothing I wouldn't do."  Such an earnest,

-loving voice it was.

-

-But he freed his neck, and put her away almost

-roughly.

-

-"Help me!" he said bitterly; "you're the last

-in the world who would.  Yes, I'm in trouble,

-perhaps; but it's a trouble you girls and Esther

-would do your best to increase."

-

-Meg's eyes filled, but she would not be repulsed.

-"Try me," she said.  "Is it gambling, Pip?  Are you

-in need of money?  Is it debts?  Have you done

-anything you daren't tell father?"  She put her arm

-round his shoulder again; but he stood up hastily

-and pushed her aside.

-

-"It's nothing you can help, Meg.  No, it's none

-of those things.  As to telling you, I'd sooner cut

-my tongue out!  There, I didn't mean to hurt you,"

-for Meg's lips had trembled; "but oh, it would

-be impossible for you to understand.  Why, you'd

-be the first to be against me."  He went over to

-the door, and picked up his straw hat from the

-side-table on the way.

-

-Meg followed him.  "Sha'n't you ever tell me?"

-she said.  "Not to-night, perhaps, as you don't want

-to, but another time Pip; indeed, you shouldn't be

-disappointed in me.  Just promise you'll tell me

-another time."

-

-"You'll know before the month's out," he said,

-and laughed half wildly as he closed the door behind

-him.

-

-As a matter of fact, a trivial accident happened,

-and she knew before the next day was out.

-

-They were having afternoon tea down near the

-river, and it being Sunday afternoon and pleasantly

-cool, the Captain had strolled down with Esther, and

-was seated on the grass leisurely examining some

-letters that had come by the Saturday afternoon's

-post and been laid aside.  There was a bill amongst

-them that he had had no part in making, a tailor's

-bill, with what seemed to him superfluous blazers,

-flannels, and such things, down.  On ordinary

-occasions he would only have grumbled moderately

-and as a matter of duty, for Pip was not particularly

-extravagant.  But to-day, with his son's recent

-failure fresh in his mind, he felt he could be

-explosive with perfect justice.  So he despatched

-Peter up to the house to request Pip's immediate

-presence.  Pip was on the point of going out, and

-came with a half-aggrieved, half-aggressive look on

-his face.

-

-But before there was time for even the preliminaries

-of warfare, Essie created a diversion by

-tumbling out of the moored boat in which she and

-Poppet were sitting into the deep, clear water of

-the river.

-

-Pip's coat was off before any one had even time

-to scream, he flung it into Meg's lap right over the

-teacups, and was swimming out to the little dark

-bobbing head in less time than it takes to write it.

-

-Nellie and Poppet had screamed, a strange,

-strangled cry had broken from Esther's lips, and

-the Captain had put his arm round her and said,

-"Don't be foolish, she's quite safe," in a sharp

-voice; but his face was white under its bronze,—this

-little saucy-faced baby daughter of his had crept

-closer to his heart than any of his other children.

-

-Of course she was quite safe.  Here was Pip

-scrambling up the bank again, and holding her up

-in his arms, a little dripping figure in a white frock

-and pinafore, one foot quite bare, the other with

-only the sock on.

-

-Such gurgling little sobs of fright and relief she

-gave, such leaps and shudders of joy and terror, as

-they carried her up to the house wrapped in her

-father's coat.

-

-But now she was safe and unhurt Meg did not

-follow the rest of the family into the bedroom with

-her.  Instead she went into her own, and sank down

-on the ottoman at the bed foot, white to the lips and

-trembling like an old, old woman,—not on Essie's

-account, the danger had been so short-lived, but in

-that breathless moment something terrible had come

-to her knowledge.

-

-.. _`"A LITTLE DRIPPING FIGURE IN A WHITE FROCK AND PINAFORE."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-105.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "A LITTLE DRIPPING FIGURE IN A WHITE FROCK AND PINAFORE."

-

-   "A LITTLE DRIPPING FIGURE IN A WHITE FROCK AND PINAFORE."

-

-I told you Pip had thrown his coat to her over the

-tea-things; it had fallen on her lap with a jerk, and

-the contents of one pocket had been precipitated on

-to the tray.

-

-A tobacco pouch, a fountain pen, and a pipe she

-had replaced hastily.  A letter had fallen face

-upwards—even in the confusion she had seen it was addressed

-to "Miss Mabelle Jones," in her brother's bold

-writing.

-

-But the thing that had taken all the colour and

-life from her face, she had not put back in the pocket

-at all, when Pip had taken the coat.  She held it at

-the present time in her tightly shut, trembling hand,

-and every minute the horror in her eyes deepened.

-Then she said, "Pip!" in a low, wailing voice,

-and opened her hand and looked again at the thing.

-

-The tissue paper was still there, and on its

-whiteness, shining bravely up into the wild eyes above

-it, lay a little gold wedding-ring.

-

-There was a step outside her door—Pip's step; he

-had been to his room to change to dry things, and

-was coming back.  For a minute he stopped, and

-Meg went paler than ever; then he went on, along

-the passage and down the staircase.

-

-She could hear him in the lower hall,—could he

-be going out again?  She started to her feet as the

-door banged, and went hastily over to the window.

-No; he had his old tennis cap on, and was going very

-slowly across the grass towards the river, his eyes

-searching the ground.  He had evidently missed it

-already, and surmised it had fallen from the pocket,

-either as he carried his coat to the house or when

-he flung it to Meg.  She gave him just time to get

-down to the water, and then, with the small, terrible

-thing tightly held in her hand, she went almost

-blindly down the stairs and over the grass after him.

-

-He was kneeling down just beside the tea-things,

-groping about in the long grass.

-

-"Have you lost anything?" Meg asked, in a

-voice that seemed to have no connection with

-herself, so faint and far away it sounded.

-

-"Er—only the stem of my pipe," Pip said, a dull

-flush on his forehead.

-

-He overturned a cup, spilt the milk into the

-biscuit barrel, and said something under his breath.

-

-"Is this what you have lost, Pip?"

-

-Meg's voice came in almost a whisper, with a note

-of great yearning in it,—oh, if only he would laugh,

-and give a ridiculously simple explanation of it all!

-She hardly dared to look at his face for fear of what

-she should find there; her hand, outstretched to him

-with the gold circle on its palm, trembled like a

-leaf.

-

-The scarlet leaped up into his face as if he had

-been a girl; his very brow and neck and ears were

-deeply dyed.  He snatched the ring from the little

-soft palm, and held it in his own closed hand; his

-eyes were like coals on fire.

-

-But Meg faced him quietly; all her courage

-gathered in her hands now the need had come.

-

-"You were going to marry the little dressmaker,

-Philip," she said.

-

-He told her a lie, two or three lies; then he

-abused her violently for her interference and prying;

-then, kneeling as he was, he put both his arms

-round her waist and prayed her, if she had any

-love for him, not to try to ruin the happiness of his

-life.

-

-Oh the young, wild, passionate face, the imploring

-words!  It almost broke Meg's heart to see him.

-Such a boy again,—oh, surely not a man now,—not

-twenty yet, and so headstrong.  She felt years and

-years older than he—felt almost as if she were his

-mother, and he a child begging to play with the

-fire.

-

-Strange wisdom came to her.  She neither railed

-nor mocked, reproached nor wept.  "And after

-you are married, what then, Pip?" she said, her

-voice quite even.  "Fifty pounds a year won't

-go very far; and I suppose father will stop even

-that."

-

-He flung back his head with its crisp waves and

-curls, the light came into his eyes.

-

-"I can work," he said, and smiled proudly.

-

-Meg looked merely thoughtful.

-

-"Of course you can," she said; "but of course

-you will get a bare nothing at first.  And, Pip,

-excuse me saying it, aren't you rather selfish?  *You*

-might be able to rough it; but wouldn't it be very

-hard on her?  Dear Pip, haven't you too much

-pride to ask any woman in the world to be your

-wife, and not have a penny to offer her or a house

-to take her to?"

-

-This was a new view of the case to Pip.  It had

-certainly not occurred to him it was hard on her; all

-the sacrifice had seemed on his side, and he had

-rejoiced to make it.

-

-"She doesn't mind; she knows I'd have to begin

-from the beginning," he said, half sulkily.

-

-"But wouldn't she rather wait?  There is every

-chance of a bright future before you, as you know,

-Pip, with all the influence father has.  Pip, I am

-sure she would rather wait and come to you when

-you are able to take her proudly before every one,

-than marry you now and make you sink into a

-fifth-rate clerk for the rest of your life."

-

-She held her head on one side argumentatively;

-the colour was beginning to creep back into her

-cheeks.

-

-As for Pip, he was both surprised and sobered at

-her moderation.  She had not said a word against

-the girl he loved, she had not been contemptuous;

-she was only laying before him, clearly and rationally,

-what he had seen and refused to see himself.

-

-The conversation spread itself out over hours;

-dusk was beginning to fall before they turned to go

-in again.  It would take half this book to narrate

-everything that was said, but in the end the victory

-was to Meg.

-

-When it came to the crisis she had been very firm.

-

-Unless he would promise her, before God and

-before heaven, before their dead mother and all he

-held holy, not to marry the girl secretly, she should

-immediately inform his father, who, until he was of

-age, could make the thing impossible.

-

-If, on the other hand, he would go back to his old

-life and work with all his will, as it was only right and

-just he should do, and if at the end of two years he

-was just as much in love with her as ever, and if there

-was nothing against her but her lowly position, then

-she, Meg, would withdraw her opposition, and even

-do all she could to help him forward.  She felt safe.

-

-"Think how much better you will know each

-other by then," she said cheerfully, as they walked

-back to the house, both feeling they had been near

-a volcano's edge.  "Why, how long have you

-known her, Pip?"

-

-And his answer was the least bit shamefaced.

-

-"Three months—nearly four, at least."

-

-He had the unpleasant feeling of having been

-conquered; but deep in his secret heart there was

-relief; that it had been taken out of his hands.  He

-had known he was making shipwreck of his life,

-known he was bringing bitter trouble upon his family

-by this hot haste; but Mabel (with two l's and an e)

-had been so insistent about an immediate marriage,

-and he so deeply in love and fearful of losing her,

-that he had felt the world was well lost.

-

-And what Meg said was very true.  It would be

-more manly of him to work first, and take a wife

-when he had something to keep her on.

-

-His Spanish castles raised themselves rapidly

-against the early evening sky.  He would work for

-two or three years as never man worked yet, and

-marry "Mabelle" at the end of that time; then he

-would take her to England that she might grow

-a little more educated and polished (oh, Pip, Pip!),

-and then bring her back and present her proudly

-to Esther and his father and sisters.

-

-His face looked quite young and bright again by

-the time they reached the front door.

-

-"You're a well-meaning little thing, Meg," he said,

-and kissed her patronisingly; it was not in nature

-that he should feel quite proper gratitude.

-

-Meg drew a series of long breaths of relief as

-she took off her hat upstairs and smoothed her

-hair for tea.

-

-"Oh, *who* would have brothers?" she asked her

-image in the glass; but it only looked back at her

-and smiled mournfully.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`NEEDLES AND PINS`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER X.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   NEEDLES AND PINS.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   "Something attempted, something done."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Snip, snip.  Bits of silesia and common red

-cashmere worked their way to the edge of the

-table, and from there dropped to the floor where

-there was a glorious litter.  Buzz, buzz, bang

-against the window-panes went the body and wings

-of a great "meat" fly.  Whirr, whirr, the sewing-machine

-fled frantically over the silesia in the places

-where the scissors had gone snip, snip.  From the

-trees across the road came the maddening sound of

-many locusts; the great fly on the hot window-glass

-was half killing itself in the effort to outdo

-them in noise.

-

-"What ever was she?" sighed Miss Mabelle Jones.

-

-She got up from the machine with a length of

-grey webbing in her hand, and looked absently

-about for a few minutes.  She had written the

-measurement of a customer's waist on the back of

-a card of buttons, she remembered; but the question

-was, where were the buttons?

-

-"If only he had money of his own now," she

-said aloud, which had no apparent connection with

-waist measurements, but showed that dressmakers'

-thoughts occasionally run on other things besides

-gatherings, crossway flounces, and boned bodices.

-Then she found the card in the leaves of the *Young

-Ladies' Journal*; and the comment, "Thirty-five

-inches, fat old thing," had a connection.

-

-She held the webbing against the tape measure,

-and cut it off at thirty-five with quite a vicious little

-snip.

-

-"Stuck up things," she muttered.  "I wouldn't be

-seen in the plain, common dresses they wear for

-anything—no style at all.  Why, Miss Woolcot's

-at church on Sunday was just fourpence-ha'penny

-print, and nothing else."

-

-Then she gasped, and put down the underskirt she

-was making in a great hurry.  Just outside the

-window stood Miss Woolcot herself, looking

-half-hesitatingly at the fly-spotted card that said "Miss

-Mabelle Jones, Costumiere and Modiste."  The next

-minute the knocker sounded.

-

-The father of Miss Mabelle Jones, as mentioned

-before, earned an honest livelihood by vending tea

-and sugar, wax candles, and such—not to speak of

-sardines.  There were great white letters on his

-window that asked, for the benefit of humanity,

-"Who brought down Sydney prices?" and vivid

-red ones that answered boldly and with generous

-flourishes, "Why, Thomas Jones of course, the

-People's Friend.  One pound of fine white sugar

-given away with every pound of tea."

-

-The shop was at the corner.  The little side-door

-and window had been given to Miss Jones when she

-had set up for herself and lengthened her baptismal

-name by two letters.

-

-Good Mrs. Jones was cutting up carrots for haricot

-mutton in the back kitchen, when her daughter burst

-in upon her.

-

-"Go and let that young lady in; say I'll be down

-presently—say I'm engaged for a bit," she said,

-pulling off as she spoke the housewifely apron that

-protected the front of her mother's dress.

-

-But "Bless us, girl" was Mrs. Jones's rather

-aggrieved reply; "you always see folks in that

-dress, and you always let 'em in yourself.  This

-'arryco won't be fit for pa if I go and leave it."

-

-"It isn't ordinary folks—it's a real swell; it's—it's

-his sister, the eldest one," said Miss Jones, in

-great agitation.  "There, she's knocked again; oh,

-for goodness' sake be quick, ma!  The room's all in

-a mess too."

-

-Mrs. Jones with a sigh set aside her toothsome

-"'arryco" and proceeded to the door.

-

-"Can I see Miss Jones?" asked the pale young

-lady on the doorstep.

-

-And "She'll be down presently; she's cleanin'

-herself," answered Mrs. Jones, leading the way into

-Mabelle's room, and moving a heap of work off a

-chair.

-

-"Sit down, miss, and I'll go and 'urry her up.

-You can be lookin' at the fashun plates; they're the

-latest styles in London"; and she kindly put a heap

-of coloured supplements, depicting ladies' fearfully

-and wonderfully arrayed, at Meg's elbow.

-

-It was more than a quarter of an hour before

-Miss Jones made her appearance, and oh, what a

-change was there!

-

-She wore a "costume" of bright terra-cotta

-poplin, with insertion bands of black lace over pink

-ribbon at intervals up the skirt and round the

-body.

-

-The sleeves were enormous—gigot shape; there

-were numberless gold and silver bangles at her

-wrists, several brooches at her neck, and a gold-headed

-pin was stuck through her hair.  She had white

-canvas shoes with tan bands.

-

-That she was pretty there was no doubt.  She had

-a bright complexion, scarlet lips, and large heavily

-lashed brown eyes, very soft and beautiful; her

-hair, which was much frizzed, was black and silky.

-

-"I regret that circumstances over which I had

-no control compelled me to keep you waiting so

-long; but I was engaged with some one who was in

-a great hurry," she said, which sounded very well,

-for she had composed it while she curled her hair.

-

-Only she accented the second half of "circumstances,"

-and deprived her poor little last word of

-its rightful "h."

-

-"I have plenty of time," Meg said.  "It does not

-matter at all."  Then she paused, and in the little

-space of clock-ticking Miss Jones examined her.

-

-Meg's dress was one of the despised prints—a

-tiny blue spot on a white ground, very clean and

-fresh.  There was a band of blue belting at her

-waist, and one on her sailor-hat.  Her shoes were

-very neat, black with shining toe-caps; her gloves

-fitted without a crease, and were beyond reproach.

-

-No jewellery at all, as Miss Jones noted, but a

-little gold-bar brooch fastening her spotless collar.

-A lady every inch, though the dress was home-made

-and had cost under five shillings.

-

-In a vague, slow way Miss Jones felt the difference

-and was dissatisfied.  She almost wished she had

-not put on her best dress, as it was only early

-morning.

-

-"You want to see me; is it about a dress?" she

-asked; for Meg had half unconsciously picked up

-one of the magazines and opened it at "The Latest

-in Skirts."

-

-"No," said Meg.  "It is about my brother Philip

-I have come."  She put the paper down; and Miss

-Jones, somewhat overawed by the quiet dignity of

-her manner, had small idea of the way her heart

-was beating.

-

-"By an accident it came to my knowledge that

-you and my brother were thinking of an immediate

-marriage," Meg said; "and I came to have a quiet

-talk to you, Miss Jones, because I felt sure you

-could not know quite all the unhappiness such a

-course would bring."

-

-Miss Jones's fine eyelashes were lying on her

-cheek; her face glowed a little with sudden colour.

-Pip had not been to see her the night before, as

-Meg knew; he had had an engagement that she

-took care he should not break, and now this early

-morning visit anticipated him.

-

-"He told you?" she asked in a low tone.

-

-"Yes, when I had found out everything," Meg

-answered.  Then she leaned a little more towards

-the pretty dressmaker.

-

-"Miss Jones, he is such a boy, poor Philip.  Since

-you love him so much, how can you bear to spoil

-his future?"

-

-.. _`"'MISS JONES, HE IS SUCH A BOY, POOR PHILIP.'"`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-119.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'MISS JONES, HE IS SUCH A BOY, POOR PHILIP.'"

-

-   "'MISS JONES, HE IS SUCH A BOY, POOR PHILIP.'"

-

-Miss Jones lifted her eyes and bridled a little.

-

-"Of course, I knew you wouldn't think me good

-enough," she said.

-

-"But," said Meg simply, "how could I think so?

-I do not know you.  What I mean is, marriage with

-any one till he is older would be ruin to him.  Surely

-you must see the unhappiness it would bring upon

-you both.  In the first place, what could you live

-upon?"

-

-Miss Jones was silent a minute.

-

-"He could work like other people, I suppose,"

-she answered; "he said he could, and I wouldn't

-mind going on sewing too for a bit."

-

-"Oh, he would be willing to work, I know,"

-Meg said; "but what could he do?  It is harder

-in the present state of things for sons of gentlemen

-to find anything to do than labouring men.  And he

-is not half educated yet.  Now, in a few years he

-will be, I trust, in very different circumstances, and

-able to support a wife in comfort."

-

-"I don't mind being rather poor," Miss Jones

-replied; "and I'm not going to give him up just

-because you don't think me fine enough for you."

-

-Meg looked at her steadily.  "Of course," she

-said, "now I have found it out, there is no possibility

-of a marriage for two years.  My brother is not of

-age, and my father naturally will forbid it."

-

-Then she softened again, for the girl's eyes had

-an unhappy look in them.  "I expect I seem severe

-to you, Miss Jones; but, indeed, all I am thinking

-of is my brother's happiness.  If I thought it would

-truly be for his good, I would not say a word.  And

-you—you love him too—won't you show your love

-by not standing in his light?"

-

-"You seem to think it's as easy to give him up

-as drop your 'andkerchief," said Miss Jones, in a

-voice that shook a little.  "If you'd a young man,

-how d'you think you'd feel if any one came to you

-and said as you couldn't make him happy because

-you wasn't as fine as him?"

-

-"If I had a lover," Meg said softly, "I would

-not bring unhappiness upon him for all the world.

-If I had a lover, and thought my love could only

-do him harm, I would never see him again."

-

-"Oh-h-h," said Miss Jones,—"oh-h dear!"

-

-Some tears gathered on her black lashes, and

-slipped slowly down her cheeks.  They were clear

-tears too, and the lashes had not changed colour.

-Meg remembered Nellie's accusation and blushed.

-

-"W-what is it you want me to do?" the young

-dressmaker said.  "Oh-h, you are cruel."

-

-Meg felt she was, but kept telling herself she

-must save Pip.  Still, the girl's tears and large,

-beautiful eyes touched her tender heart.  She put

-out her hand impulsively and took the one with

-needle-marked fingers; she held it in hers while she

-talked to her gently and wisely and firmly.  She

-spoke of Pip's extreme youth, of his penniless

-condition, his dependence on the Captain.  "My

-father is a hard man, and a poor man.  I don't think

-he would ever forgive or recognise my brother again

-as long as he lived," she said.  "Then again, Philip

-has been used to comfort and certain luxuries all his

-life—to mixing in good society.  He would be

-miserable, and make you miserable too, to go to

-such utterly changed conditions.  Not one unequal

-marriage in fifty is happy—it is almost impossible

-they should be; and think how young he is."

-

-"I 'adn't quite made up my mind," Miss Jones

-said, feeling she needed some justification.  "Yes, I

-know he'd got the ring—he bought it as soon as I

-said yes; and at first I thought as it would be nice

-to be married straight off, but often when he wasn't

-here I used to think as I wouldn't after all."

-

-"That was very wise of you," said Meg fervently,

-"very good of you.  Oh, I knew I should only have

-to represent things to you a little for you to see

-how unwise it would be."

-

-Miss Jones looked a little gratified, though still

-somewhat mournful.  She felt very much like one

-of the heroines in her favourite *Bow Bells* or *Family

-Novelettes*, sacrificing herself in this noble manner

-for the good of her lover.  But secretly, like Pip,

-she too felt a trifle relieved.

-

-All her life she had been used to poverty.  Things

-had been a little more "genteel" with them since

-she had been earning money of her own; but still

-there was the never-ending struggle of trying to

-make sixpence buy a shillingsworth.  And, from

-all accounts, it would only be intensified by marriage

-with this handsome youth she had been so taken

-with lately.  She thought of a certain faithful

-ironmonger whose heart had been half broken lately by

-her coldness to him.  He was spoken of already

-as a "solid" man—a shilling need only do its

-legitimate work if she yielded to his entreaties and

-married him.  Perhaps, after all, it was unwise for

-a girl in her position to think of a "gentleman

-born"; and yet Pip's way of speaking, his nice linen

-cuffs and gold links, his well-cut serge suits, had

-been a great happiness to her.

-

-"Well?" said Meg softly, breaking in at length

-upon her train of thought.

-

-"Oh, I s'pose I'll give him up," she answered,

-somewhat ungraciously.

-

-"How good you are!" Meg said.

-

-"Of course it's 'ard and all that; but I don't want

-to make him un'appy and his family set against

-him—I'd rather sacrifice myself."  Miss Jones cast down

-her lashes and looked heroic.  "I suppose, though,

-I'll have a fine piece of work with him when he

-comes."

-

-Meg had no doubt of it.

-

-"But you will be very firm, won't you?" she

-said anxiously.  "Remember, you have promised

-me to leave him quite free—to refuse to be even

-engaged for at least two years."

-

-"Oh, I'll manage him, someway; but I quite

-expect he will want to shoot either himself or me,"

-was the dressmaker's answer, spoken with a certain

-melancholy enjoyment.

-

-Then Meg shook hands with her warmly, affectionately

-even—she felt she almost loved her—and

-took her departure.

-

-"But Pip will never forgive me," she said to

-herself, as she walked home again.  "Oh, never,

-never, never!"

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`A DAY IN SYDNEY`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XI.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   A DAY IN SYDNEY.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   "To Mr. O'Malley in foreign parts."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Once a month Martha Tomlinson had a day's

-holiday.  She generally chose Wednesdays,

-because, she used to say, if there was any luck

-flying about in a week, that was the day on which

-it fell to earth.  She certainly had illustrations for

-her theory that Poppet at least used to think were

-wonderful.  For instance, one Wednesday she had

-picked up a sixpence with a horseshoe on the side

-the Queen's head is generally seen—the omen had

-struck her as almost good enough to be married on.

-Another time the young man she "went walking

-with" had been within an ace of buying a pee-wit

-hat that was cheap certainly, but was moth-eaten

-in a place or two.  If, now, she had gone on Thursday,

-it would have been too late to prevent it, and

-Tuesday it would have been too soon.  It was a

-clear case of luck, there was no doubt.

-

-One time, indeed, she had been tempted to take a

-Thursday instead, as the weather looked threatening

-on the Wednesday; but after a little deliberation,

-she thought it would be better to keep to her rule.

-And on the Thursday she had almost gone there

-was a collision between the river boat and one

-going to Balmain,—no one hurt certainly, but then,

-as she very truly remarked, there might have been.

-There had never been a collision in the memory of

-any of the family, for she questioned each and all,

-on a Wednesday.

-

-The man in corduroy trousers still came to see

-her, and they still only talked of their marriage as

-the "far-off divine event" of their lives; in all

-probability they would be talking of it just the

-same ten years hence.  They were not like the

-usual happy-go-lucky, improvident Australians

-of their class, who married first, and wondered

-where the bread and meat were coming from second.

-

-Malcolm was a Scotchman, and was saving up to

-buy a house of his own—he did not believe in lining

-landlords' pockets with his earnings.  It would, with

-the strip of land he wanted, be four hundred odd

-pounds, and he had already saved £75.  Martha

-had £15 in the bank, but then hers would have

-to go in furniture and clothing.  Pip calculated

-that Malcolm would be seventy-two, and Martha

-a gay young thing of sixty-nine, by the time

-the house was built and furnished; but Martha

-was more hopeful, and did not leave such a

-margin for the "strikes" Malcolm seemed to revel in.

-

-Now this particular Wednesday, Martha had

-asked, as a great favour, that Poppet might go with

-her to town.  The little girl was her favourite

-among all the children, and her warm heart quite

-ached to see the child moping as she had done since

-Bunty's disappearance.  Every day, while the nursery

-tea-things were being washed up, Poppet used to

-stand beside her, with big mournful eyes, wondering

-"if just this minute Bunty was climbing a mast; if

-he was very tired of salt meat and weevily biscuits;

-if his feet got very cold swilling the decks down;

-if—if—if——"

-

-Martha's brother had been a sailor, so Martha

-knew more about life on board ship than any

-one else in the house; hence her great attraction.

-

-Esther, after a consultation with Meg, gave

-permission; the child was fretting herself thin and pale,

-and any change did her good.

-

-Of course when Poppet was dressed and standing

-on the verandah, engaged in the vexatious task of

-pulling her gloves over her little brown hands, Peter

-wanted to come too.

-

-"You're a thneak, Poppet, going and having

-pleathure, and me thtuck here doing nothing," he

-said.  "I'm coming too."

-

-"In that dirty old suit, and mud on the end of

-your nose?" said Poppet, with the virtuous tone a

-spotless white frock, whole stockings, and clean boots

-made justifiable.

-

-"Of courth I can wath my noth, and the thuit

-ithn't dirty if you bruth it."  He took out a crumpled

-ball of handkerchief, dipped one corner in the goldfish

-bowl inside the hall door, and polished his small

-nose with great energy.  "There, ith it off?"

-

-Martha came out, resplendent in a green cashmere

-made in the very latest style, a green hat with pink

-ostrich feathers, and a green parasol.

-

-Peter looked impressed, and said nothing more

-about accompanying them; Poppet was nobody,

-of course, even though her new boots had twelve

-buttons against his own six; but even his young

-soul felt the impossibility of a sailor suit no longer

-new being seen within a yard of that magnificent

-new costume of Martha's.

-

-He contented himself with looking after them

-enviously as they went down the drive, and kicking

-the verandah post with his small strong boots.

-

-"Tthuck up thingth!" he muttered, turning away

-to look for means of amusement.  "I'll thutht pay

-that Poppet out."

-

-Martha had ideas of her own as to the proper way

-a holiday should be spent, and had determined

-Poppet should have a day she would long remember.

-One thing only Poppet asked for, and that was that

-they should walk about Circular Quay for a little

-time and look at the great ships, and especially any

-that were bound for America.

-

-In her pocket the little girl had a blotted note

-she had written some days ago.  On the envelope,

-in very bad, unsteady writing, there was this

-strange address:—

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   "TO BUNTY IN AMERICA.

-

-"On the ship *Isabela* plese will the capten give

-this to Bunty."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-There was a pencil mark through Bunty, and

-John Woolcot was written in brackets.

-

-Inside the envelope was much paper and many

-smudges made by the tears that fell all the time the

-pen went slowly along the lines.

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-"Oh Bunty do come home, Bunty dere there is

-nothing to be fritened of.  Mr. Barnham doesn't

-beleeve you took it and the boys chered you like

-anything and Meg is going to be nice always the

-tortus is very well and I give it beefstake every day

-I can get any you would be serprised to see what

-it can eat.  Oh Bunty do be quick home oh you

-mite have told me you were going Bunty I'd have

-come with you or anything do you have to go up

-the masts.  I'm so fritened you'll fall overbord I've

-put 10 pense in here so you can buy things when

-you're on shore I wish I had more Martha says the

-biskits are full of weevuls.  Dere Bunty oh do

-come home quick quick oh Bunty if only you'll

-come I'll always do things for you and never

-grumbil whatever it is I know I used to be horid

-and grumbling before but just you see do you have

-to swil the deks with no boots.  Martha says so.

-Oh dere Bunty DO come home.  I've beleeved you

-all the time Bunty dere of corse.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line

-

-"Your loving sister,

-    "POPPET.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-"P.S.—Be sure to come quick."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-For a long time the little girl could think of no

-possible way of getting this letter to her brother.

-Meg had said the post-office would be no use, for

-in all probability the boat bearing it would pass in

-mid ocean the one bringing Bunty back.

-

-But it had struck Poppet lately that if only

-she could give it to the captain of some other boat

-going to America, he would know just where the

-boat was and be able to send it on.

-

-That was the hope that was making her eyes

-grow full of light as the river boat got nearer and

-nearer to Sydney, and hundreds of tall masts and

-interlacing yards stood against the blue of the sky

-or the brown-grey of the great warehouses.

-

-How beautiful the harbour looked to-day!  There

-was a cool breeze blowing, and it ruffled the waters

-into a million little broken waves that leaped and

-danced in the clear morning sunshine.

-

-Up near the Quay there was all the picturesque

-untidiness and bustle of busy shipping; but out

-farther the sun and the waves and the drifting

-clouds had it their own way, and made a hundred

-shifting pictures.  Sometimes a white sail glittered

-in the sun, then a brown one would make a spot

-of warm colour.  The great boats to Manly left

-long majestic trails of white foam behind them,

-and little skiffs got into the wash and rocked

-joyously.

-

-On the North Shore the many buildings showed

-white and clean in the sunlight; farther to the left

-the houses were fewer, and beautiful gardens stretched

-down to the water's edge.  Still farther away, across

-the white-tipped waves, were shores with backgrounds

-of thickly-growing gums; and higher, the soft blue

-line of hills.

-

-Poppet's very heart was in her eyes as the boat

-stopped at the Erskine Street Wharf and the gangway

-was put down.  She pinched Martha's arm gently

-and whispered to her not to forget.

-

-Martha spoke to a sailor who was sitting smoking

-on an inverted cask.

-

-She "supposed the boats to America went

-from the Quay, didn't they now?—or was it from

-Wooloomooloo?"

-

-But he "supposed there were boats and boats

-to America.  There was sich as the *Mariposa*, which

-carried swells and was a fine boat; and sich as the

-*Jenny Lind*, which took oil and was not a fine boat!"

-

-"Do you know the *Isabella*?" said Poppet's little

-eager voice.

-

-"Captain Brown?—well, I reckon I do, little

-miss," he said, and chewed a bit of tobacco thoughtfully.

-"Bloomin' old tub!  I was on her five year."

-

-Poppet nearly fell upon him,—she could not wait

-while he said all he knew about it in his slow

-roundabout way.

-

-"Is he a cruel man? don't they have vegetables

-to eat? do the little boys have to go up the masts? are

-there weevils in the biscuits? oh! and won't he let

-them have their boots on when they swill the decks?"

-

-But it turned out that the *Isabella* he was on was

-a schooner plying between Melbourne and the

-South Sea Islands.  He rather fancied there was a

-brig of the same name that went to San Francisco

-or Boston, or "one of those places."

-

-Poppet's face had fallen again.

-

-"Do you know of *any* boats that go to America?"

-she said in a forlorn tone.  "Oh, do please try and

-think if you know of *any*."

-

-Martha explained rapidly, *sotto voce*: "The

-young lady's brother had run away, and was on

-that boat; she was fretting her little heart out to get

-a letter to him; couldn't he pacify her some way? she

-herself knew it was impossible."

-

-The sailor looked kindly at the little sweet face

-under its broad-brimmed hat.

-

-"I have a mate on the *Jenny Lind*, little miss,—how'd

-it be if I gave him the letter?  He's a good-hearted

-chap, and would try his best; he'd be sure

-to know where the *Isabella is*, and could easy

-send it."

-

-"That would be best, Miss Poppet dear," said

-Martha; "give it to this nice kind man and he'll

-send it."

-

-"Is he going to America soon?  Do you think

-he would see the *Isabella*?" the little sad voice said.

-

-And the sailor's answer was certainly very

-reassuring: the *Jenny Lind* sailed in two days, and

-was sure to meet the *Isabella*, in which case the

-letter would be delivered into Bunty's hands.

-

-Poppet handed over her letter with a sigh of

-relief; she had hardly dared to hope a boat would

-leave so soon.

-

-Martha thanked the man, opened her green

-parasol, and walked on.  Poppet lingered half a

-minute.

-

-"If you should happen to meet him anywhere,"

-she said hurriedly,—"you might, you know, as

-you're a sailor too: he's a tallish little boy, with

-brown eyes, and his hair's rather rough,—you won't

-forget, will you?"

-

-"Not I," he said warmly, shaking the small hand

-she held out,—"a tallish little boy with brown

-eyes,—oh! I'd easy know him."

-

-Then she caught up Martha, who was beckoning

-impatiently, and felt a load was off her mind.

-

-Such a morning they had!  They went to the

-waxworks in George Street first, and saw

-bush-rangers, an aboriginal murderer, and other pleasing

-characters, with life-like eyelashes and surprisingly

-beautiful complexions.  Then they climbed all the

-way to the top of the Town Hall—Martha knew the

-caretaker—and had the pleasure of seeing the city

-in miniature far below.  The Cathedral being next

-door came in for a turn, but seemed rather flat after

-the waxworks.  After that they went through the

-five arcades systematically, flattening their noses at

-each interesting window, and telling each other

-what they would buy if they had the money.

-

-.. _`"THEY WENT TO THE WAXWORKS IN GEORGE STREET FIRST."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-135.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "THEY WENT TO THE WAXWORKS IN GEORGE STREET FIRST."

-

-   "THEY WENT TO THE WAXWORKS IN GEORGE STREET FIRST."

-

-It was twelve o'clock when they had finished with

-the Strand, and they were to meet Malcolm, who

-was going to take them somewhere to lunch, at

-half-past one.

-

-"There's just time for the Botanicking Gardens,"

-said Martha, wiping her heated face and setting her

-splendid hat straight at one of the narrow slits of

-mirror in the arcade.

-

-So away they posted, up King Street, down

-Macquarie Street, and away down the broad,

-beautiful, shady walk in the Domain.

-

-There was not time to "do" the Gardens

-thoroughly, so they only walked rapidly up some

-of the paths, paused for a moment to look at the

-blue harbour beyond the low sea wall, and then

-walked three times solemnly and backwards around

-the wishing-tree near the entrance gates.

-

-"What did you wish, Martha?" Poppet said,

-as they walked up again towards the statue of

-Captain Cook, where they were to meet Malcolm.

-"I hope you wished about Bunty."

-

-But Martha had been selfish enough to desire

-fervently that Malcolm should never go on strike

-again.

-

-"Oh, you never get your wish if you tell what

-it is," she said evasively.

-

-"Don't you?" said Poppet anxiously.  "Oh dear,

-and I was nearly telling mine.  You can't guess in

-the slightest, Martha, can you?  You have no idea,

-have you, Martha?"

-

-"Not the slightest," said Martha of the warm

-heart,—"not the least little bit, Miss Poppet."

-

-"And you always get your wish, Martha?"

-

-"Oh, of course."

-

-Years after, Poppet's faith in that wonderful

-wishing-tree was unshaken.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`THREE COURSES ONE SHILLING`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XII.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   THREE COURSES, ONE SHILLING.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "Yesterday's errors let yesterday cover;

-   |  Yesterday's wounds which smarted and bled

-   |  Are healed with the healing which night has shed."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Poppet had been for lunch with Esther or

-Meg to the Fresh Food and Ice Company,

-Quong Tart's, and such places on various occasions.

-But the restaurant to which Malcolm and Martha

-took her was quite a new experience.  She did not

-know the name of the street it was in, but it

-was not very far from the Quay, and there was

-a rather mixed, if interesting, assembly of diners.

-Not that it was a particularly low-class place; it

-had a very good name for the excellency of its

-food and its moderate prices, and its patrons

-comprised poor clerks who minded fashion less than

-a good dinner,—tradesmen, sailors, and occasional

-wharf labourers.  Martha had asked Malcolm

-whether, as she had Poppet with her, they had

-better go to some place higher up town.  Malcolm,

-who dined there regularly, seemed to see no reason

-why he should change his custom for a little slip

-of a girl under ten.

-

-As for Poppet, it was all one with her where

-she went, and while Martha and Malcolm were

-studying the bill of fare, she fell to watching some

-sailors at an adjoining table with the deepest

-interest.

-

-"Now, Miss Poppet," said Martha, "what will you

-have?  Me and Malcolm have fixed on sucking pig,

-sweet potatoes and baked pumpkin, but I think

-you'd better have something plainer; there's roast

-mutton, or corned beef, or beefsteak pie."

-

-"Why," said Poppet, "we have *those* things at

-home.  No, I'll have sucking pig too, please, Martha;

-I like tasting new things."

-

-"Did you ever!" remarked Martha, looking

-troubled; "it might make you ill, Miss Poppet dear.

-Have corned beef like a good little girl."

-

-But Poppet could be firm on occasion.  She did

-not dine at a restaurant every day, and when she

-did she had no intention of confining herself to

-ordinary things.

-

-"Sucking pig for two," said Malcolm to the waiter,

-and paused for Poppet's order.

-

-"For three," said Poppet, softly but firmly.

-While he had gone to execute the order, she

-occupied herself with considering what pudding she

-would have.  There were five or six down on the

-list: plum duff, apple pie and custard, treacle

-rolypoly, stewed pears, and macaroni and cheese.  She

-was wavering between macaroni and plum duff,

-when the waiter returned with the three great

-steaming plates of sucking pig and vegetables.

-

-Malcolm and Martha were soon busily occupied,

-both considering it would be sheer wilful waste, after

-paying a shilling each, to leave an atom on their

-plates; but Poppet found a very little satisfying, and

-fell to watching the sailors again.

-

-She heard them give their orders—five of them,

-each a different meat and different vegetables;

-she wondered how the waiter could keep it all in

-his head, and watched quite anxiously when he

-returned with the tray to see if he made any

-mistake.

-

-Just behind the screen where they filled the

-trays somebody stood handing plate after plate to

-the one busy waiter.  Presently, as the place filled

-more and more she heard him say he must have

-some one to help at once, a number of people were

-waiting.

-

-A boy in a long white apron stepped out from

-the screen, a tray with three corned beefs, two

-sucking pigs, and a roast mutton in his hand.

-

-"Miss Poppet, dear, do eat up your potato," said

-Martha, pausing with a knifeload midway between

-her plate and mouth.  But Poppet's face was deadly

-pale, and in her eyes was a look of strange wildness.

-

-"She's ill," said Martha; "I knew she oughtn't

-to have it."  She looked at Malcolm in a helpless

-way for a second, and then pushed back her chair

-to go round to the child.

-

-But Poppet flung up her arms, and with a wild,

-piercing shriek darted from her place and flew across

-the room.

-

-There was a crash of crockery, one of those slow,

-piece-after-piece crashes, when you wonder if there

-can be anything left to be broken, angry words from

-the waiter and manager, confusion and laughter on

-the part of the diners, blankest amazement on the

-faces of Martha and Malcolm, and in the midst a

-small girl in a white frock and big hat clinging

-frantically to "a tallish little boy with brown eyes

-and dark, rough hair,"—a shabby, white-faced boy

-in a waiter's apron.

-

-"Oh-h-h-h!" she sobbed, "oh-h-h! oh-h-h-h! *Bunty!*"  She

-laughed and sobbed and laughed again.

-

-This extraordinary scene went on for two or

-three minutes; then the manager recovered his wits

-and began to storm, and Martha, still wearing an

-expression of stupefaction, made her way to the

-group.

-

-Malcolm, after an expressive shoulder shrug,

-returned to his sucking pig, which he was enjoying

-immensely.

-

-.. _`"POPPET FLUNG UP HER ARMS, AND WITH A WILD, PIERCING SHRIEK FLEW ACROSS THE ROOM."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-141.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "POPPET FLUNG UP HER ARMS, AND WITH A WILD, PIERCING SHRIEK FLEW ACROSS THE ROOM."

-

-   "POPPET FLUNG UP HER ARMS, AND WITH A WILD, PIERCING SHRIEK FLEW ACROSS THE ROOM."

-

-"There's nothing them kids *could* do as 'ud

-surprise me," he said, as he took a fresh supply of

-mustard and settled down again.

-

-He had known the family for seven years, so the

-remark was not unjustifiable.  Martha had withdrawn

-to a back room with the manager.  She explained

-that his young waiter was the son of a gentleman;

-she gave him Captain Woolcot's address that he

-might be reimbursed for the breakages.

-

-"But 'owever he got 'ere, so help me, I can't

-imagine," she said.  "Why, he's in America."  She

-put out her hand to touch the lad and feel if he were

-real flesh and blood, the evidence of her senses

-could not be accredited.  "It's really you, is it?"

-she said slowly.

-

-But Bunty did not answer; he seemed half stupefied,

-and was standing perfectly still, while Poppet

-sobbed and asked questions and clung to him.

-

-Such a tall, gaunt boy he had grown.  His face

-was thin and sharp, there was a look of silent suffering

-in his eyes and round his lips, his clothes hung

-loosely on him, and were threadbare to the last

-degree.

-

-"Get your hat and come with us, Master John,"

-she said, a touch of her old sharpness in her manner

-to him.  "Don't take on so, Miss Poppet.

-Hush! every one is looking at you; be quiet now, an

-we'll go to the Gardens, or somewhere where we

-can talk, and then we'll go home."

-

-"I can't go home," Bunty said faintly.

-

-He wondered if those five terrible months behind

-him were a dream; or if little trembling Poppet,

-who was holding him so tightly, was a vision his

-disordered imagination had called up.

-

-"Oh, I can't go home, of course," he said, and

-pushed his thick hair back in a tired kind of way.

-"Hush, Poppet; go home with Martha like a good

-girl, and, on no account, say you've seen me.

-Promise me——"

-

-He did not wait for an answer, however, but made

-fresh confusion by fainting dead away on the floor

-at Martha's feet.

-

-The manager of the restaurant felt himself a very

-ill-used man that such things should happen at his

-busiest time; but he was not inhuman, and the

-boy's deathly face and the little girl's exceeding

-distress touched him.  Besides, Malcolm was his

-most regular customer; it would be unwise to offend

-him.  So he helped to lift the boy into an inner

-room, gave Martha brandy and water, and

-recommended burnt feathers.

-

-"I'll go and send a tellygrum for the Captain,"

-Malcolm said, picking up his hat.  He too felt

-ill-used, for there were some choice morsels still on his

-plate, and there was no knowing when he would get

-his pudding.

-

-But Poppet caught his coat sleeve.

-

-"Not father, on *any* account," she said.  "Esther,

-or Meg, or even Pip—but oh, not father!"

-

-"No, you'd better not fetch the Captain," Martha

-said.  "Oh no, he wouldn't do at all.  Better

-telegraph for Miss Meg—she's got a head on her.

-The missus is ill with a headache, so it's no good

-fetching her—yes, send for Miss Meg."

-

-It was between half-past one and two when all

-this happened; at five Bunty was half-sitting,

-half-lying on the old, springless sofa in the nursery.

-Poppet had squeezed herself on the half-inch of

-space he had left, and was gazing at him, a look

-of great content and unspeakable love on her little

-face; and Meg on the low rocking-chair beside them

-was holding a hand of each.

-

-The others had been turned out.  Bunty lay with

-his face to the wall and his lips shut in a dogged

-kind of way when they had all crowded round

-asking questions; and at last Meg, seeing he was

-totally unfit for any excitement or distress,

-persuaded them to leave him to Poppet and herself till

-he was stronger.

-

-And when the room was quiet, and Meg rocking

-softly to and fro, and Poppet occasionally rubbing

-her smooth little cheek against his old coat, he told

-them everything of his own accord.

-

-He had not been to America at all, he had never

-even heard of a boat called the *Isabella*; it must

-have been some other boy the police had heard of,

-and a chance resemblance that made them connect

-the two.

-

-He had been in or near Sydney all the time,

-living he hardly knew how.  The first month he

-had done odd jobs, fetched and carried for a grocer

-in Botany.  Then he had managed to get a place

-on a rough farm in the Lane Cove district, where

-he was paid four shillings a week and given board

-and lodging—of a kind.  But there had been a long

-spell of rainy weather and rough westerly winds,

-and he had been in wet things sometimes from

-morning to night.

-

-"And it gave me fever—rheumatic—pretty badly,"

-he said; "so they shipped me down to the hospital

-here in Sydney."

-

-Poppet buried her nose in the sofa cushion, and

-Meg gave an exclamation of horror.

-

-"And you didn't tell the people who you were,

-and send for us?" she said, wondering if this could

-be the same boy who, when he was small, required

-the sympathies of the house if he scratched his

-knees.

-

-"How could I?" was Bunty's low reply, "when

-you didn't know about *that*!"

-

-Meg held his hand closer.

-

-"Didn't the people at the hospital ask who you

-were?" she said.

-

-"I told them I hadn't any home, and my name

-was John Thomson," he answered.  "Of course they

-thought I was nothing but a farm boy.  Well, I

-was there a long time—about two months, I think;

-it seemed like years."

-

-Meg's face was pale, and her eyes full of hot tears.

-

-She pictured the poor lad lying in that hospital

-bed week after week, strange faces all around him,

-strange hands ministering to him,—weak, racked

-with pain, and yet with almost incredible strength

-of mind persevering in his determination not to let

-his family know anything.

-

-"How could you *help* sending for us?" she said,

-in a low tone.

-

-He moved his head a little restlessly.

-

-"I knew you were all sick of me, and ashamed

-of me.  I know I'm not like the rest of you, and I

-kept saying I'd get well and work hard and do

-something to make you respect me before I came

-back."

-

-Respect him!  In Poppet's eyes Nelson was less

-of a hero, Gordon had infinitely less claim to glory.

-

-"Two or three times I nearly told the nurse," he

-continued, half-shamefacedly; "the pain was pretty

-bad, I couldn't go to sleep for it, and I thought

-I'd like Poppet to come,"—he gave her hand a rough

-squeeze,—"but then I used to stuff the blanket in

-my mouth and bite it, and it kept me from telling

-her.  I used to have to shut my eyes so I shouldn't

-see her coming to my end of the ward; I used to

-get so frightened I'd say it without meaning to."

-

-"And then," said Meg—the narration was almost

-too painful—"what did you do then—when you

-got better?"

-

-The rest of the story he hurried over; it made

-him shudder a little to think of it all, now he was

-lying in this dear old room with two faces full of

-love close to him.

-

-He had not been strong enough for any regular

-work after he came from the hospital.  He had twelve

-shillings of his wages left, and this kept him for a

-fortnight, with the help of what he received for an

-odd job or two.  The last week had been the worst

-of all.  On Saturday he had elevenpence only left;

-he lived on it that day, Sunday, and Monday,

-sleeping in the Domain at night.  On Tuesday

-he had in the course of his wanderings come to

-Malcolm's favourite restaurant, and lingered around

-it, trying to feed his poor hungry body with the

-appetising smells that issued from the door.  At

-last he could bear it no longer; he went in and

-asked if they wanted a boy to wash up or wait,

-offering to do so in return for food and a bed at

-night.  They had been very pushed for help, for

-one of the waiters had fallen ill, and they told him

-he could try it for a day or two.  All Tuesday he

-worked hard there, washing up, peeling potatoes,

-running errands; the meals seemed more than ample

-repayment to him in his half-starved state.

-

-On Wednesday the absent waiter had sent word

-to say he would be at his duties the following day.

-Just as Bunty was lading his tray to carry it round

-he dropped a couple of tumblers,—he had broken

-two or three things the previous day,—and the

-manager in annoyance told him he could stay the

-rest of the day but need not come back to-morrow.

-Sick at heart at the thought of the streets again, the

-poor boy had picked up his tray and gone out into

-the big room with it.

-

-And the next minute there came that wild, glad

-shriek, and Poppet had flung herself upon him half

-mad with joy.

-

-Just as the tale ended Nellie burst into the room.

-She went straight over to the sofa and fell down on

-her knees beside it.

-

-"Oh, how can you ever forgive us, Bunty!" she

-said, tears brimming over in her eyes.  "Oh, Bunty,

-I shall never forgive myself, never!"

-

-Esther had followed, her face' shining with

-gladness.  "Mr. Burnham is here," she said,

-"and——"

-

-"Bunty never did it, 'twath Bully Hawkinth!"

-burst out Peter, pushing Nellie aside, and actually

-trying to kiss his injured brother in his excitement.

-

-Bunty rose to his feet, pale, trembling.

-

-"What is it, Esther?" he said.  "Nellie—tell me!"

-

-"Only it *was* young Hawkins after all who took

-the money," said Esther, in tones that trembled with

-gladness for the news, and grief for the poor boy's

-unmerited sufferings.  "He broke his collar bone at

-football yesterday, and he thought at first he was

-going to die; he confessed it to his mother, and made

-her send word to school.  Mr. Burnham has come

-straight here with the news, and says he can never

-forgive himself for all you have suffered over it."

-

-"Oh, Bunty! how hateful we were not to believe

-you," said Nellie, wiping her eyes; "we don't deserve

-for you to speak to us."

-

-But Bunty put his poor rough head down on the

-cushions again, and great hard sobs broke from him,

-sobs that he was bitterly ashamed of, but that he

-had absolutely no strength to restrain.

-

-No one would ever know quite how wretched this

-thing had made him.  However warm the welcome

-home had been, there would always have been that

-cloud.

-

-The relief was almost too much for him in his

-weak state.

-

-At night, when Meg was tucking Poppet up in bed,

-the little girl sat up suddenly.

-

-"Meg, that is the most wonderfullest tree in the

-world," she said in a low, almost reverential tone.

-

-Meg asked her to explain, and she told how she

-and Martha had walked backwards three times,

-around the "wishing-tree" in the Botanical Gardens.

-

-Meg stooped down and kissed the dear little face;

-how she envied Poppet to-day! she was the only one

-who had had faith all the time.

-

-"What did you wish?" she asked, though she

-knew without telling.

-

-"That Bunty might be found this vewy day, and

-that they might find out about the money."

-

-"But I think I know a little girl who has said that

-in her prayers every day for five months," whispered

-Meg.  "Which do you think answered, God or the

-tree?"

-

-The little girl was quiet for a minute, then she

-knelt up on her pillow and drooped her sweet, grave

-face with its closed eyelids over her two small hands.

-

-When she cuddled down among the clothes again,

-she drew Meg's bright head down to her.

-

-"I was thanking Him," she said.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`PARNASSUS AND PUDDINGS`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XIII.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   PARNASSUS AND PUDDINGS.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "When for the first time Nature says plain 'No

-   |  To some 'Yes' in you, and walks over you

-   |      In gorgeous sweeps of scorn."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Pip had not spoken to Meg for over three weeks.

-There had been one fiery outbreak consequent

-upon Miss Jones' dismissal of him.  When he learnt

-Meg had been to her he had accused his sister of

-treachery, of trying to ruin his happiness; he had

-been willing, he said, to put off the question of

-marriage for a year or two, but no power on earth

-would have made him promise to give Mabelle up.

-

-And she had given him up!  Put him aside as

-if he had been a schoolboy, or a worn-out glove!

-And with astonishing firmness.  He had even seen

-her already walking out with a man who sold saucepans

-and kettles and fire-grates in the one business

-street of the suburb.

-

-No wonder his cup of bitterness seemed running

-over; no wonder he felt Meg had sinned beyond

-forgiveness in thus interfering.

-

-His last examination had not, it was found, been

-hopelessly bad, and he had been granted a "*post

-mortem*."  But even then he did not attempt to work.

-He used certainly, to stay in his bedroom, where his

-table stood with its wild confusion of books and

-papers, but he would sit hour after hour staring

-moodily in front of him, with never a glance at the

-Todhunter or Berkeley that so urgently required

-his attention.  Or he would read poetry, lying full

-length on his bed,—Keats, Shelley, and Byron,

-tales of blighted passion and hopeless grief, till

-his eyes would ache with the tears his young

-manhood forbade to fall, tears of huge self-pity and

-misery.

-

-Surely since the creation there had been no one

-quite so wretched, so utterly bereft of all that made

-life worth living!  How grey and monotonous

-stretched out the future before him!  The probable

-length of his life made him aghast.  The sheer

-uselessness of living, the hollow mockery of the sunshine

-and laughter and birds' songs, and the intolerable

-length of hours and days, seemed each day to strike

-him with fresh force.

-

-After a certain time his mood induced poetic

-outpourings.  He thought himself just as wretched,—even

-more so, indeed; but the mere fact that his

-feelings were able to relieve themselves in this way

-showed the first keenness was passing.

-

-.. _`"HE WOULD SIT HOUR AFTER HOUR STARING MOODILY IN FRONT OF HIM."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-153.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "HE WOULD SIT HOUR AFTER HOUR STARING MOODILY IN FRONT OF HIM."

-

-   "HE WOULD SIT HOUR AFTER HOUR STARING MOODILY IN FRONT OF HIM."

-

-Sheet after sheet of University paper was covered

-with wild, impassioned addresses in the shape of

-sonnets and odes, or, when the pen was too full

-for studied forms, of eloquent blank verse.

-

-For instance, the following poem struck him as

-exceptionally fine.  He composed it at midnight, after

-eating his heart out in misery all the day.  It was

-written in his blackest writing, as might be expected,

-and upon a sheet of grey note paper,—the University

-buff had suddenly offended his sense of fitness.

-

-   |  "Oh, what is life when all its joys are fled!

-   |  I am in love with Death's long dreamful ease.

-   |  Over my head I hear th' unwelcome tread

-   |  Of future years; my aching eye still sees

-   |  New suns arise and set, and seasons wane.

-   |  I would take arms against this sea of pain,

-   |  I would embrace Earth's sea and sink to rest,

-   |  For ever lulled upon her soothing breast!

-   |  I would fling off this gift of Life, as you,

-   |  O bitter Love, flung me aside, your you!

-   |  O Love, O Love, O bitter, beauteous Love,

-   |  Heartless and cold, but still my one fair dove!

-   |  What is this life that some find strangely fair,

-   |  When but to think brings sorrow and despair?

-   |  What is this life when love, your love, lies dead,

-   |  And mine, too much alive, slays me instead?

-   |  I will give up, go down,—there is a sea,

-   |  A winding sheet, kept cool and green for me.

-   |  I will give up, go down!  Yet, Love, but smile,

-   |  But stretch to me that hand so soft and white,

-   |  That seemed my own, that sad, sweet little while,

-   |  And all grows day, for ever dead the night."

-   |

-

-He was not at all sure when he read it the eighth

-or ninth time that the mantle of the "Sun-treader"

-had not fallen upon him, that Helicon's drying fount

-would not spring up afresh at his bidding.

-

-Other men in love, he knew, had made verses,

-but they were of the mawkish, sentimental kind his

-more fastidious taste rejected, the kind that

-generally began something like—

-

-   |  "Oh, Star of Beauty, all the night

-   |    Thou shinest in the sky;

-   |  For thee the dark doth grow quite bright—

-   |    Oh, hear my plaintive sigh!"

-

-His, he felt, were strong with the strength born of

-fathomless misery, and sweet with the bitter-sweet

-of undying and spurned love.

-

-One day he met Mabelle; she was walking to

-church with her fat, honest old mother, who preferred

-a man of saucepans with money far before one of

-irreproachable shirt cuffs and empty pockets.

-

-She smiled at him from her brown, beautifully

-lashed eyes, a kind of for-goodness-sake-try-to-make-

-the-best-of-it-and-don't-look-so-tragic smile, but he

-interpreted it as a sign of softening.  When he got

-home he sent her the poem,—if anything in the wide

-world could touch her beautiful, stony heart he

-thought that would.

-

-He entrusted it to the common post, and waited

-with an undisciplined heart for the answer.

-

-It came on a Monday morning.  Poppet took it

-from the postman and carried it up to him, but she

-was too busy with a scheme of Bunty's to notice

-how white he turned, and how his hand trembled.

-

-It was painfully short and to the point:—

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-"What's the use of writing poetery to me when

-all's up and done with?  I showed it to Ma and Pa

-and some one else, and they thort it very fine; but

-said you oughtent to write it as some one else

-writes poetery for me now.  I think it's very nice

-of course and I'll keep it this time but don't send

-any more.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line

-

-"Your friend only and nothing more,

-    "Miss JONES (not Mabelle).

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-"P.S.—I suppose I may as well tell you as I'm

-engaged to be married to Mr. Wilkes."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-That was Pip's death-blow, and, if a paradox

-may be allowed, from that minute he began to

-live again.

-

-The thought that his cherished poem had been

-submitted to the critical gaze of a man who sold

-frying pans and wrote "poetery" himself, stung

-him to madness.  He sat down and attacked his

-hydrostatics with savage frenzy to prevent himself

-doing anything desperate.

-

-He even played in a football match the next week,

-a thing he had not done for a long time; and he

-took food less under protest.

-

-But Meg he could not forgive; his manner to her,

-if compelled to speak, was cold and contemptuous;

-when possible he totally ignored her presence.

-

-The girl found such conduct very hard indeed

-to bear from her favourite brother, especially as it

-was only her keen anxiety for his welfare that had

-made her act as she had done; she bore it in silence,

-however, and without reproaching him.  Some day,

-she knew, he would thank her from his heart, and

-for the present she must content herself to lie under

-the ban of his displeasure.

-

-To solace herself she took to making puddings,

-learning the technicalities of meat cooking, and

-concocting queer-smelling bottles of stuff she labelled

-mushroom ketchup, tomato sauce, and Australian

-chutnee in her neatest hand.

-

-Esther smiled a little when first these operations

-began.  Meg had hitherto expressed the frankest

-dislike for culinary engagements.

-

-Nellie laughed openly.

-

-   |  "Her 'prentice hand she tried on us,

-   |  And then she cooked for Alan, oh!"

-

-she said one day, shaking her head as she eyed

-a surprisingly queer-looking conglomeration Meg

-called amber pudding.

-

-"Many thanks, but no, Meg dearest; I think I

-will finish with honest bread and cheese!"

-

-"Esther?" said Meg, pausing with uplifted

-tablespoon, and taking no notice of Nell's sarcasm

-beyond blushing finely.  "You'll try a little, won't

-you?  I'm sure it's very nice."

-

-But even Esther looked dubious; the frothed

-icing on top had an elegant appearance certainly,

-but underneath was a mass of strange colour and

-consistency.

-

-"Dear Meg," she said, "I am like the French

-lady, you know,—I eat only my acquaintances.

-Nellie, pass me the cheese."

-

-But this sort of thing did not damp Meg's spirits,

-not at least for more than a day or two.

-

-Perhaps the next three or four puddings would

-be long-established favourites that no one could

-take exception to, but after that there would appear

-one or two of French title and unknown quantities.

-Now and again indeed they turned out brilliant

-successes, that every one praised and longed for

-more of; but most often, it must be confessed,

-they were failures, very trying to the tempers and

-digestions of all who ventured on a helping.

-

-"It was well to be Alan," Nellie said, "with nine

-innocent people submitting themselves daily to the

-dangers of poisoning or lifelong indigestion, just that

-in future he might escape and have his palate

-continually pleased."

-

-"If I can't practise on my own family," demanded

-Meg, smiling however, "how am I to get experience?

-All of you have excellent digestions, so it

-will not do you any real harm."

-

-And she persevered with so much determination

-that they only groaned inwardly when a "confection

-à la Marguerite," as Nellie called it, took the place

-of old favourites, such as plum puddings, apple pies,

-roly-polys and Queens.  Every one accepted their

-portion in meekness, and really tried to say

-encouraging things, especially if her face was hot and

-anxious.

-

-Bunty was just beginning to find his place in the

-family again.  But he was a changed boy.  No one

-could doubt that those five hard months had had the

-most beneficial effect on his character, although they

-had made him so white and hollow-cheeked.  He

-was stronger morally, more self-reliant.  The

-rough usage he had received seemed to have quite

-dissipated his cowardice, and with it the inclination

-to falsehood.  He was almost pitifully careful not to

-make the slightest untrue statement about anything;

-and now the barriers of reserve between himself and

-Meg were broken down, she was able to help him

-more, and put herself more in his place.

-

-Poppet was as much as ever his faithful little

-companion; there was absolutely nothing the child would

-not have done for this dear, recovered brother.  She

-even consulted Meg as to the practicability of learning

-Latin, just that she might look up his words for him

-every evening in the dictionary.

-

-But as three-syllabled words in her own language

-made her pucker up her poor little brows, and as

-English grammar still had power to draw weary,

-dispirited tears, Meg advised a short postponement.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`MUSHROOMS`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XIV.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   MUSHROOMS.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   "In what will all this ostentation end?"

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-A new house had been built lately not very far

-from Misrule, a grand, showy-looking place, or

-red brick, in the Elizabethan style, which the suburbs

-of Sydney are just beginning to affect largely.

-

-The grounds were laid out by a landscape gardener,

-and there were velvet lawns, carpet beds, and

-terraces reaching down to the river, where at

-Misrule there was only a wilderness of a garden with

-broken palings, and a couple of sloping paddocks

-where long rank grass and poppies flourished.

-Then the carriage drive,—such a grand, smooth, red

-sweep, serpentining up to the great porch.  The

-Misrule drive was hardly red at all; the gravel had

-mostly vanished, the dead leaves were generally of

-Vallambrosian thickness, and weeds raised cheerful

-heads at intervals.  The name of the people who

-had built the new house was Browne,—Fitzroy-Browne,

-with a hyphen and an e.

-

-Mr. Fitzroy-Browne was a railway contractor,

-and had builded himself an ample fortune out of

-a Government that not yet had need to cheese-pare.

-

-There were three or four Misses Fitzroy-Browne,

-that fashionable boarding-schools, dressmakers, and

-several seasons had done their best for.  There was

-a Mr. Fitzroy-Browne junior, who waxed his

-moustache, wore clothes of chessboard device, and kept

-racehorses.  And there was Mamma Fitzroy-Browne,

-who was fat and good-natured, and said "Bless yer

-'art" with a cheeriness refreshing in these days of

-ceremony, and then pulled herself up short and

-looked unhappy.

-

-Poor Mamma Browne! who sometimes thought

-wistfully of the long-dead days when Papa had

-been only an honest navvy, and her little girls and

-boy too small to snub and suppress her, and order

-her about.

-

-Mamma Browne, who had liked her little old

-"best" room, with its big round table, holding the

-Bible, three gilt-edged books, and some wax grapes

-under a glass shade, far better than her grand new

-drawing-room, that was like a furniture show-place,

-all mirrors and cabinets, and green and gold.

-

-How many Mamma Brownes there are in

-Australia!  It is quite pitiful.  Good dear creatures,

-with their bones too set to adapt themselves to

-the change the golden days have brought; poor

-simple-minded things, who, having consistently

-left "h" out of their language for forty or fifty

-years, cannot remember it now till an embarrassed

-cough or a blush and sneer from a Miss Hyphen

-Browne makes their old hearts ache for shame of

-themselves.

-

-Dear housewives, who wasted not their husbands'

-substance in the old days, and now bring down

-vials of contempt from the daughters for anxious

-watchfulness over reckless servants!  Sociable old

-bodies, to whom a cup of tea in the kitchen with

-a gossiping friend had been happiness, but "At

-Homes," thronged with stylish people whose speech

-fairly bristled with h's and g's, bewildering misery.

-

-Comfortable women who have weaknesses for

-violet, crimson, and bright brown, with large bonnets

-heavily trimmed, and are sternly arrayed in fashionable

-no colours, and for bonnets forced to wear a

-bit of jet, a flyaway bow and strings, that they say

-piteously feels as if they had no head covering

-at all.

-

-I should like to build a Home for them, these dear,

-fat, snubbed orphans of society that is altogether

-too fine for them—I said *fat*, because if you notice

-it is always the fat ones who get into trouble: the

-thin ones can shape themselves into place better,—to

-build a Home full of small cosy rooms, with

-centre tables, and chairs, not artistically arranged

-but set straight against the walls, with vases

-(pronounced vorses) in pairs everywhere, waxen fruit

-and flowers under glass, and china animals that

-never were on sea or land.  There should always

-be a tea-pot, warmly cosied, cups big enough to

-hold more than one mouthful and not sufficiently

-precious to make one uncomfortable, plates of cake,

-cut, not in finikin finger strips, but in good hearty

-wedges.

-

-These to be in readiness for all the dear old

-vulgar friends who had not got to fortune yet and

-loved to "drop in."

-

-And if I had a uniform at all for my orphans

-it should be of a good warm purple, with plenty of

-fringe and plush and buttons; and the standard

-weight of the bonnets should be thirteen ounces.

-

-All this because of Mrs. Fitzroy-Browne!

-

-Captain Woolcot had told Esther she need not

-call when the new people came to the district: he

-said he "hated mushroom growths, especially when

-they were so pretentiously gilt-edged,"—which was

-rather a mixed metaphor, by the way but no one

-could tell him so.

-

-For some time therefore all the young Woolcots

-saw of the "mushrooms" was on Sundays, when a

-pew that had belonged to two sweet old

-maids—grey-clad always, sisters and lovers, never apart

-even in their recent deaths—blossomed out into a

-gay dressmaker's showroom, from which all the

-congregation could during sermon time take useful

-notes for the renovation of their wardrobes.

-

-Nellie's hats were good signs of the times.  The

-boys chaffed and scorned her unmercifully, but

-the poor child had such a weakness for having

-things "in fashion" that for her very life, when the

-Misses Fitzroy-Browne's trimmings were all severely

-at the back of their hats, she could not leave hers

-at the front.  Or if their frills crept up into the

-middle of their skirts and had an insertion heading,

-how could she be strong-minded enough to let hers

-remain on the hem with only a gathering thread at

-the top?

-

-Poor Nellie! she had a great, secret hankering

-for the flesh-pots of Egypt.  The love of pretty

-things amounted to a passion with her, and the

-shabby carpets, scratched furniture, and ill-kept

-grounds of Misrule were a source of real trouble

-to her.

-

-Privately, she took a great interest in the rich

-Brownes, and envied them not a little.  Their grand

-house and beautiful grounds, their army of

-trained servants, their splendid carriages and horses,

-and their heaps of dresses and jewellery seemed to

-the half-grown girl the most desirable things on

-earth.

-

-But if you had put it to the test whether she

-would change Esther's beautiful, quiet grace of

-manner for Mrs. Browne's nervous fussiness; her

-soldierly, upright father for little, mean-looking

-Mr. Browne; handsome, careless Pip, who looked

-like a king in his flannels and old cricket cap, for

-Mr. Theodore Fitzroy-Browne of the careful toilets

-and bold eyes; or sweet, gracious Meg, who always

-said the right thing at the right time, for one of

-the over-dressed, gushing Miss Brownes, I

-think—even with all the money thrown in—she would

-have clung to Misrule.

-

-For their part, the Brownes took a great interest

-in the Woolcot family, and felt themselves much

-aggrieved that, with all their shabbiness, they had

-been too "stuck-up" to call upon them.

-

-They would have liked Pip for their "At Homes"

-and dances; and the young, grave-faced doctor, who

-was always turning in at the Misrule gate; Meg,

-who looked "such a lady"; and Nellie, whose

-beautiful face would be so great an attraction

-to—at any rate—the masculine portion of their

-guests.

-

-When, after some five or six months, no cards

-from Captain, Mrs., and Miss Woolcot had been

-deposited at the shrine of their wealth, they began

-to make overtures themselves.

-

-.. _`"MEG AND NELLIE HAD BEEN HELPING TO DECORATE THE CHURCH ONE AFTERNOON."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-167.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "MEG AND NELLIE HAD BEEN HELPING TO DECORATE THE CHURCH ONE AFTERNOON."

-

-   "MEG AND NELLIE HAD BEEN HELPING TO DECORATE THE CHURCH ONE AFTERNOON."

-

-Meg and Nellie had been helping to decorate the

-church one afternoon,—it was Easter-time,—when

-two of the Misses Browne came in, followed by a

-man in livery, bearing a great basket of exquisite

-white roses, and kosmea.  Mrs. Macintosh, the

-clergyman's wife, introduced the girls to each other,

-since they were so close, and they hammered their

-fingers and exchanged civilities together for the

-next hour.

-

-Miss Browne at the end of that time wanted to

-know if they were not passionately fond of tennis.

-

-"Oh yes—very," said Nellie.  "We love it!"

-

-"Of course you have a court?"

-

-"Only a chip one the boys made; but it does

-very well."

-

-It was Meg's answer.  Nellie grew red, and

-wondered why her sister could not have contented

-herself with "Yes, of course!" seeing there was

-small chance the Fitzroy-Brownes would ever be

-asked inside the gates of Misrule.

-

-Miss Browne was silent a minute, then she said,—

-

-"We have three beautiful grass courts.  I wish,

-Miss Woolcot, you would come up and have a game

-with us sometimes—and your sister, of course; we

-should be glad to see your brother as well, if he

-would care to come."

-

-Meg tried not to look surprised, and did her best

-to find "the right word for the right place."

-

-"Thank you very much," she said; "but our

-afternoons are very much filled, I am afraid we

-should not be able to."

-

-"Then come in the morning," urged Miss Browne.

-"We always practise in the morning—it fills the

-time, for, of course, there is nothing else for us

-to do."

-

-"I am always busy in the morning, and my

-brother is at lectures," Meg said; "thank you all

-the same."

-

-"Well, your sister," said Miss Browne.  "Won't

-you come, Miss Nellie?  You can't be busy as well."

-

-Nell looked at Meg as much as to say, "Why

-can't we?" but Meg was somewhat annoyed at the

-persistency.

-

-"I am very sorry, but Nellie still studies in the

-morning," she said, just a little stiffly; "she is not

-old enough to be emancipated yet."

-

-"Well, I think it's very mean of you, you know,"

-was Miss Browne's answer; but she had not taken

-offence, for Meg's tone had been pleasant.  "Still,

-if ever you can find time, we shall be delighted to

-see you; we are always at home on Tuesdays and

-Fridays, evenings as well as afternoons; or if you

-just sent me a little note to say you were coming I

-would stay in."

-

-Again Meg thanked her politely, if not warmly,

-and managed not to commit herself to a promise.

-She moved away, however, from the danger of it

-as soon as she could, and helped Mrs. Macintosh

-to decorate the chancel with kosmea and asparagus

-grass.

-

-But the Misses Browne kept the not unwilling

-Nellie close to them, chattering to her, flattering her

-adroitly, altogether treating her as if she were quite

-grown up, instead of not yet sixteen.

-

-She was much easier to get on with than Meg,

-although she was a little shy.  They found out from

-her, by dint of much questioning, that the young

-man with earnest eyes was Dr. Alan Courtney, and

-that—"yes, he was engaged to Meg."  They learnt

-that Pip was in his second year, and went out a

-great deal; also that he played tennis splendidly,

-and had won the singles tournament at the University,

-but that he liked football much better.  That the

-thin boy with brown, rough hair was John, and

-the little bright-faced girl who wore big hats and

-always sat next to him was Winifred.  How Poppet

-would have smiled to hear her baptismal name!

-That Pete—Rupert and Essie were the "second

-family," and that the tall, beautiful girl they at first

-had thought was the eldest Miss Woolcot was the

-step-mother.  Meg intimated to Nellie it was

-glove-putting-on time, and tried to draw her away, but

-Mrs. Courtney came up at the moment and engaged

-her attention.

-

-"I *wish* you could have come to tennis," the

-eldest Miss Browne said, "or to our evenings; we

-have such awfully jolly ones."

-

-Nellie admitted, half hesitatingly, that she should

-like to "very much indeed."

-

-"It's a shame for a pretty girl like you to stay

-at home," Miss Isabel said.  "It isn't fair to the

-poor men, my dear."

-

-Nellie blushed exquisitely, and both the Misses

-Browne thought she was the sweetest-looking girl

-they had ever seen.

-

-"I'm not out yet, of course," she said shyly.  "I

-suppose I shall go to places when I'm as old as Meg."

-

-But they seemed to think that was a very

-old-fashioned notion.  When they were fifteen, and

-even younger, they said, *they* had gone to parties

-and no end of things.

-

-"I don't suppose you could just run up to us

-one day next week by yourself, and have a game

-with us?" insinuated Miss Browne, who would fain

-show the glories of Trafalgar House to this young

-girl, who was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide her

-well-worn gloves from their gaze.

-

-Nellie was "afraid not," but the "not" was very

-dubious; she was wondering if she could not manage

-it in some way, and when Meg, released from

-Mrs. Courtney, came down the church for her, the first

-seeds of the intimacy had been sown.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`THE GOVERNMENT OF MEG`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XV.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   THE GOVERNMENT OF MEG.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   "Alas! how easily things go wrong."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-A week later, cards, very thick, gilt-edged, and

-perfumed, arrived at Misrule, requesting the

-pleasure of the company of Mr. Philip and the Misses

-Woolcot's company at an "At Home" at Trafalgar

-House.

-

-Pip said it was "fair cheek."  Meg raised her

-eyebrows, but Nellie longed ardently to accept, and

-almost wept when a formal answer pleading regret

-and a prior engagement was sent in return.

-

-A fortnight passed, and more cards arrived.

-

-.. class:: center white-space-pre-line

-

-   MR. AND MRS. FITZROY-BROWNE.

-   *The Misses Woolcot,*

-   FRIDAY EVENING.

-   *Dancing.  R.S.V.P.*

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Meg left out the "prior engagement" this time

-in her reply, and merely "regretted the Misses

-Woolcot could not have the pleasure, etc."

-

-But the girls gushed over Nellie just as much

-whenever they met her.  She used to go occasionally

-to the Parsonage to play mild tennis with

-Mr. Macintosh's delicate son, who had been ordered the

-exercise.  The Misses Browne also went there at

-times; they considered that to visit there on equal

-terms was a hall mark of gentility, and persevered

-therefore, even though they yawned afterwards all

-through the drive home.

-

-They always drove wherever they were going,

-they seemed to think foot exercise below them.  It

-was even said that when they went to return a call

-of the Macarthys who lived two doors off, they went

-in their great open carriage, with high-stepping

-horses, coachman, and footman complete.  So, also,

-whenever they went to the little homely Parsonage

-on the hill top, the imposing equipage took them

-there, the footman stood in petrified state while they

-alighted, and afterwards handed the two racquets

-out with as much ceremony as if he was assisting

-in some public function.

-

-Innate good taste sometimes whispered to Nellie

-that these things ought not to be so, but she

-generally chose to be conveniently blind.

-

-How could she find fault with them when they

-petted her and flattered her till her silly little head

-was swimming? when they pressed gifts upon her,—a

-gold bangle that one of them wore and she had

-admired, a brooch with a tiny chrysophrase heart,

-even a parasol composed of billowy chiffon.  She

-had the good sense certainly to refuse the presents,

-though she looked at them with longing eyes, but

-none the less she admired and envied girls who had

-it in their power to make the offers.

-

-"Your people seem determined not to come to

-our house," Miss Isabel said one day on the Parsonage

-tennis ground.

-

-"They—they have so many engagements," said

-Nellie, with hesitating mendacity and a blush of

-distress.  What would they say if they knew the

-contempt the cards met with at Misrule?

-

-Miss Browne spoke of the great ballroom at

-Trafalgar House, of illuminated grounds, of the

-throngs of guests; to Nellie, who had not yet been

-allowed more harmful dissipation than tea-parties,

-picnics, and children's romps, it sounded

-entrancing.  "Yes, I should love to come," she said

-wistfully, as they once again regretted she should

-not give the world an opportunity to see her

-beauty.

-

-The child naturally was flattered that two grown-up

-young ladies should take so much notice of her,

-and tell her so frequently of her good looks; it

-seemed strange, even to her, that with all their

-money and friends they should trouble to make

-much of a girl of her age who never wore anything

-more expensive than muslin, crepon or serge, and

-always trimmed her own hats.

-

-The reason was that the Misses Browne, though

-they had really taken a genuine liking to the shy,

-beautiful-faced child, had a great respect for the

-name of Woolcot, the high esteem in which the

-family was held, peccadilloes notwithstanding, and

-envied greatly their unquestioned entry into the

-society that, strive as they would, opened not its

-doors for them.  And they thought, if they could

-once get on to a friendly footing at Misrule, other

-people in the neighbourhood who had looked coldly

-on them hitherto would immediately hold out hands

-of friendship, and come to their doors with the magic

-bits of pasteboard they so desired.

-

-The best means to this end they considered would

-be to dazzle the eyes of the family with the luxury

-and unstinted wealth at Trafalgar House.

-

-But Nellie was the only one they could get hold

-of, so they fed her young vanity without stint, and

-tried to lure her up to the great red mansion.

-

-"Yes, I should love to come," she had said on

-this occasion.  They were standing on the Parsonage

-court after a sett, Nell in a pink cambric blouse

-and well-worn serge skirt, the Misses Browne in

-elaborate costumes of Liberty silk with crossed tennis

-racquets worked all round the skirts.

-

-"Well, *come*," they said,—"don't wait for the

-others; we want *you*,—why can't you come even if

-they won't?"

-

-"Oh," said Nell, who had not dreamed of

-independent action, "how could I if Esther and Meg

-don't?"

-

-Miss Browne gave a little laughing sneer.

-

-"What a good little girl it is!  Does it always

-ask permission for everything, and do exactly as it's

-told?  Why, when we were your age we never

-dreamt even of consulting our parents where we

-went, and they never dreamt of interfering.  Why,

-it's a very old-fashioned notion to be in bondage

-like that to your parents."

-

-Nell flushed half-shamefacedly.

-

-She began to believe that she really gave in too

-much to her elders, that she ought to have more

-freedom, and be more independent, now she was

-nearly "grown up."

-

-"Perhaps I will come some day," she said a little

-uncertainly.

-

-"Just show them a few times that you are not a

-child, to be dictated to as they wish," advised Miss

-Isabel; "after that it will be quite easy.  Why, I'd

-just like to hear ma or pa say we shouldn't go

-here or mustn't go there, shouldn't you, Beatrice?"

-

-Beatrice's laugh of utter scorn was sufficient

-answer.  "Why, it's just the other way," she said:

-"we tell ma what to do."

-

-"Some day" Nellie had said, but had not imagined

-how soon the day would be offered to her.

-

-General Blaxland, the head of the forces in New

-South Wales, had decided to send a certain

-Lieutenant Holloway and Captain Birsted to India, with

-a view to gaining information from the forces there

-about several reforms he wished to introduce into

-the colony.

-

-Just at the last Lieutenant Holloway fell ill, and

-the General had asked our Captain whether he could

-manage to tear himself away from the bosom of

-his family for the time required, or whether they

-must send one of the younger lieutenants.  The

-Captain had asked for a day to think it over,

-hastened home to Misrule, and told Esther if she

-would go with him he would accept, for it would be

-a delightful holiday for both.

-

-Esther was charmed with the idea.  India had

-always seemed a kind of beautiful enchanted country

-to her, where Arabian Night kind of entertainments

-went on from morning to night.  She begged for

-small Essie's company, but the Captain would not

-hear of such a tie.  So as they would only be

-away four months Esther at length consented, and

-delivered her baby into Meg's care with numberless

-injunctions.

-

-There was one week of wild confusion at Misrule.

-The children had holidays from lessons; dressmaking

-and millinery seemed going on all over the house;

-trunks, cabin boxes, and portmanteaux stood gaping

-open in Esther's room, and the Captain had a fit of

-intense irritability all the time.

-

-Monday, the day the *Orotava* started, came at

-last, and Meg awoke from the confused dream she

-had been in all the week to find herself on the

-Quay waving a wet handkerchief to a boat almost

-out of sight, and only refraining from more tears by

-a hastily got up argument between Peter and Essie.

-

-"Ze tissed me last," said Essie, trying to derive

-tearful superiority from the fact.

-

-"The waved to me latht, tho there!" Peter said.

-

-"Ze never!" said Essie.

-

-"The did!" cried Peter.

-

-Meg thought it time to put away her handkerchief

-and interpose herself between the two "grass

-orphans," or the quarrel would end in Essie slapping

-Peter, and Peter growing red and pushing her

-down on the ground.

-

-Every one was looking a little grave and upset.

-It is impossible to see a great ship bearing our dear

-ones move slowly away toward the wide, terrible

-ocean without quickened heart-beatings, and serious

-if not misty eyes, even if they are only going for a

-very little time, and accidents are unheard-of things

-with such splendid ships.

-

-Meg proposed an adjournment.

-

-"Let's go and have tea and cakes or ice-creams

-at Quong Tart's" she said.

-

-"Who'll pay?" asked Bunty the practical.

-

-Meg waited a moment; she half hoped Pip would

-come with them, his own merry self again, and

-offer to "go halves," but he made no movement.

-

-"I might take it out of the housekeeping money

-just this once," she said.  "Seven of us,—that would

-be three-and-six; only, Peter, you mustn't ask for

-ice-cream too if you have a custard roll or anything;

-every one can only have one thing, or it makes it

-too expensive."

-

-Pip moved away.

-

-"Won't you come, Pip?" she said half beseechingly,

-and catching his coat sleeve.

-

-But he gave her a cold look.

-

-"No, thanks," he said, and walked off.

-

-So only six of them went to drown their grief in

-tea and ice-cream.

-

-There had been talk of asking Mrs. Hassal to

-come down and look after Misrule and its inmates

-for the four months; but then, what would have

-become of Yarrahappini?

-

-Meg begged her father to have no one.  Surely,

-she said, for that short time she was capable of

-being head of the house.  The cook was a married

-woman, and would give an air of steadiness to the

-place; Martha was thoroughly reliable; and Pat had

-the virtue of doing as he was told.  There would

-be herself and Pip in authority, with Nellie as

-aide-de-camp; Bunty was a changed character; and

-as to Poppet, Peter, and Essie, any one with a little

-tact could manage them.

-

-So it was decided at last, and Meg picked up the

-reins of government with a pleasurable feeling of

-responsibility and no misgivings whatever.

-

-Pip felt he had done his duty for the time when

-he spoke a word in season to Peter and threatened

-"hidings" innumerable if he waxed obstreperous.

-

-But the aide-de-camp was tried and proved

-wanting,—all the trouble that followed came through

-her.

-

-Meg, who desired everything to go on smoothly

-and pleasantly, made a point of consulting Nellie

-in many things, and treating her as an equal in age.

-As it happened, it was the worst policy she could

-adopt just then, for it strengthened the younger

-girl's growing ideas of independence.

-

-A little firmness—a mother's firmness—and the

-enforcement of unquestioned authority at this

-juncture would have saved her from many a

-subsequent heartache.  But alas! there was no mother,

-and Meg's rule was certainly not despotic, though

-it was firm in its way, and answered excellently

-with the young ones.

-

-"Where are you going, Nell?" she said one

-afternoon, going up into the bedroom, and finding

-her young sister in the midst of as elaborate a toilet

-as her simple clothes would allow.

-

-"Up to Trafalgar House for tennis, that's all!"

-Nell replied, in a tone whose studied nonchalance

-was somewhat overdone.

-

-Meg fairly gasped.  Was she going to have open

-rebellion among her subjects as soon as this?

-

-"You are going to do nothing of the kind, I

-hope," she said, with considerable warmth in her

-tone.  "What are you thinking of?  Of course you

-can't accept hospitality from people we refuse to

-visit!"

-

-"Oh, that's all nonsense!" Nellie replied, fluffing

-a strand of hair backward with the comb and

-pinning it up into a roll.  "I consider Esther and

-you were very rude and unneighbourly not to call

-on them, and it's no reason I should be impolite

-as well!"

-

-"But you can't do such an impossible thing!"

-Meg cried.  "Don't be such a child, Nellie.  Go

-to the Parsonage, or the Courtneys, or anywhere

-if you want a game; but, for goodness' sake, keep

-away from that horrid place!"

-

-.. _`"'NELLIE, I FORBID YOU TO GO!' MEG CRIED."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-182.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'NELLIE, I FORBID YOU TO GO!' MEG CRIED."

-

-   "'NELLIE, I FORBID YOU TO GO!' MEG CRIED."

-

-Nellie proceeded quietly with her dressing, the

-resolute light in her eyes not a whit diminished.

-She buttoned her blue tennis blouse, brushed some

-specks of dust off her skirt, and put a piece of

-clean belting in her silver waist-clasp.

-

-"I can't believe you're in earnest," Meg began

-again; "why, you *must* remember father expressly

-said we were not to go!"

-

-"He did not tell me; he only said Esther needn't

-call,—that's not forbidding *me*!" Nell said calmly.

-

-She put on her sailor hat, stuck the pins through

-with great care, and made a few little deft dabs

-at her fluffy side hair.  Then she put on her very

-best gloves and picked up her racquet.

-

-"Nellie, I *forbid* you to go!" Meg cried, finding

-neither reasoning nor asking would answer.

-"Remember, I have been left here in charge of you

-all, and I absolutely *forbid* you to go near those

-Brownes!"

-

-"Pooh!" said Nellie, "I'm nearly as old as you—I'm

-too big to be forbidden.  Give your orders to

-Peter and Poppet—I'm *going*!"

-

-And she went.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`MORE MUTINY`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XVI.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   MORE MUTINY.

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-..

-

-   |  "Gently scan your brother man.

-   |    Still gentlier sister woman,

-   |  An' if they gang a trifle wrang

-   |    To step aside is human."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-That was the first battle; another followed

-quickly on its heels; and then there came a

-long and sorrowful peace.

-

-Meg had been exceedingly angry about it—and

-with justice.  She marvelled, not only at Nellie's

-rebellion, but that she should care to mix with

-such "impossible" people, as she called them.

-

-"It isn't as if they were merely homely and

-uneducated," she said; "but their vulgarity and

-pretentiousness are enough to make any one sick!"

-

-However, as Nellie was very quiet—docile even—after

-the one outbreak, and as it was not possible

-to keep up an unfriendly spirit for ever, she thought

-she had better overlook it as a first and last offence;

-more especially as she remembered her own mad

-infatuation for Aldith MacCarthy, when she had

-been even older than Nell was now.

-

-But she warned her with much resolution in her tone.

-

-"You only leave me one course, Nellie," she

-said.  "I have been left in charge, and if you won't

-obey orders—I'm sure I try to give as few as

-possible—I shall be compelled to write to

-Mr. Hassal and ask him either to send you to school

-till father comes back or else to let some one come

-here whose authority you will respect."

-

-Then she softened, and put her arms round her

-sister.

-

-"Don't make it so hard for me, Nell," she said,

-almost with tears in her eyes; "there's nothing

-in moderation I'd try to stop you, but you really

-must see I can't let you grow intimate with these

-people."

-

-But Nellie had not responded with her usual

-sisterly hug and kiss.  She wriggled away from the

-encircling arms and gave a little impatient toss of

-her head.

-

-"What a fuss you make about things, Meg!" she

-said pettishly.  "I do wish you'd leave me alone!

-I'm not a child, and I'm not going to be ordered

-about like one."

-

-Then came the next war.

-

-Cards for a dinner-party arrived from the

-"unsnubbable" Brownes—Bunty's adjective.

-

-"Put them in the fire," Pip said.  "No answer

-is the best for such people."

-

-If there had been some pretty faces among the

-feminine portion of the Browne household Pip

-would not have been so scornful of the overtures,

-but the girls were each and all undeniably plain.

-For the days that intervened between the arrival

-of the cards and the date of the dinner-party Meg

-was exceedingly busy.

-

-She had a dressmaker in the house making winter

-frocks for Poppet and Essie; that took up much

-of her time.  Besides this, two great cases of quinces

-and apples had been sent to them from Yarrahappini,

-and, with Martha's help, she was converting

-them into jam and jelly.

-

-Bunty also had been unwell, and from school a

-day or two, and Peter had one of his perverse fits

-upon him.  She had not had time to give the

-Fitzroy-Brownes as much as a passing thought; and as

-the new daily governess made no complaint about

-Nellie's morning studies she concluded all was

-going on well.

-

-Judge therefore her immeasurable amaze when,

-going up to the bedroom on the date of the

-dinner-party, and just after nursery tea was over,

-she discovered Nellie again in the act of making

-a "toilette."  She had the white crepon dress on;

-it nearly touched the ground in front, and trailed a

-little behind.  There was soft lace in the neck and

-sleeves of it, and on her bosom a cluster of the

-exquisite pink roses that climbed all over the tool-shed.

-She had white suede gloves and black pretty shoes,

-both new, as the gap in her small allowance

-testified.

-

-Excitement had lent a brilliant colour to her

-cheeks; her eyes, with their thick, curled lashes,

-were like stars.  For one second Meg paused,

-struck with the wondrous, exceeding beauty of her

-young sister; the next she realised what she was

-dressed for.

-

-"Where are you going?" she said, merely as a

-matter of form—of course she knew.

-

-"I'm going to the Fitzroy-Brownes at Trafalgar

-House for a small dinner-party,—seven to ten,

-carriages at half-past," Nellie said, with elaborate

-attention to detail.  "Is there anything else you

-would like to know?"

-

-Meg went a little white.

-

-"You don't move from this house, Nellie!" she

-said, and her lips set themselves firmly.  "You can

-take off that dress as soon as you like!"

-

-Nellie twisted a long lace scarf round her beautiful

-shining head.

-

-"It's no use making a bother," she said; "I've

-made up my mind to go, and I'm going!"

-

-"I refused the invitation," Meg said, catching at

-a straw.

-

-"But I accepted," was Nellie's answer.  "I met

-Isabel yesterday and promised."

-

-For ten long minutes did Meg argue, reason,

-coax, and appeal to Nellie's better judgment: the

-fear of Isabel's sneers, together with the thought

-of the cost of her shoes and gloves, were of more

-avail.  The girl was quietly obdurate; Meg found

-she was not even listening to her.

-

-"They are sending a brougham down to pick

-me up at the Bentleys," she said, when Meg was

-almost exhausted; "I shall miss them if I wait any

-longer."  She moved to the door.

-

-But a flame of righteous anger sprang up in

-Meg's eyes.  She hastened down the corridor to

-Pip's room, and laid the case in a few words before

-him.

-

-Offended as he was with his sister, he could not

-refuse to uphold her in a matter like this—especially

-as he had such a vast contempt for the "mushrooms."

-

-He caught Nellie on the staircase.

-

-"Don't be such a little idiot!" he said.  "Go

-and take that frippery off at once!"

-

-"Go and mind your own business, Philip

-Woolcot!" retorted Nellie.

-

-"Well, of all little donkeys!" he said.  "Do you

-actually mean to say, Meg, she was going off on

-her own hook, without you or me or any one?"

-

-"I certainly do think she's losing her senses!"

-Meg said in exasperation.

-

-Philip surveyed her in silence for a minute—her

-exquisite, childish, unformed beauty even appealed

-to his coldly fraternal eyes.  He smiled almost

-benignly.

-

-"Be a good little chicken," he said; "wait three

-or four years, and you shall revel in this sort of

-thing till you find it's all vanity."

-

-Three or four years!  Nellie's eyes flashed

-defiance at them both.

-

-"I'm *going*," she said, in a low, very determined

-voice.  She brushed past Meg and went down five

-stairs.

-

-But "Are you, my lady?" quoth Pip.  He jumped

-the steps, caught her, and held her fast.

-

-She struggled violently—anger and excitement

-lent her unnatural strength—and she freed herself

-at length, and fled in wild, mad haste down the

-stairs and to the front door.  Once in the brougham,

-which was only a little way off, and she knew she

-could bid defiance to all the Megs and Pips in the

-world!

-

-But Pip's blood was up.  He had no intention of

-letting a little chit like Nellie get the upper hand

-of him, even if there were no real object at stake.

-As it was, the thought of his pretty, innocent little

-sister in the company of the "off crowd" of men he

-had seen young Fitzroy-Browne take home, and the

-loud women with whom he felt instinctively the girls

-consorted, made him shudder.

-

-"Are you going to stay at home quietly?" he

-said, fire in his dark eyes as he caught her by the

-arms just as she was pulling the door handle back.

-

-"No, I'm not!" she said stormily.

-

-For answer he picked her right up in his arms as

-if she had been Poppet.

-

-"Where shall I put her, Meg?  I'm going to lock

-her up," he called breathlessly; she was not fragilely

-light.

-

-Meg was a little startled at such a summary

-proceeding; then she decided rapidly it was the only

-thing to be done at the juncture.

-

-"Here!" she cried, "in her own bedroom."  She

-flung open the door, and he strode down the passage

-with his struggling burden in its dainty dress and

-sweet, crushed roses.

-

-They left her the light.  There was a shelf of books

-to occupy her if so she liked, also her work-basket,

-with a fleecy cloud she was crocheting; she would be

-able to fill the time.  But they locked the door very

-carefully, and took the key downstairs with them.

-

-"You must have been exceedingly careless, Meg,

-to let her get to know them," Pip said, with masculine

-inclination to locate blame.

-

-Meg told of the introduction and subsequent

-meetings—how it seemed impossible to get the

-people to accept the frequent if delicately-conveyed

-hints that their acquaintance was not desired.  She

-kept the tennis episode to herself, for she feared it

-would only make him more harsh and overbearing

-to Nellie, and do no good.

-

-When they were separating some time later she

-looked wistfully up at him.

-

-"Dear Pip, aren't you ever going to forgive me?"

-she said; "can't you see I only did it for your

-good?  Do let us kiss and be friends again."

-

-He looked at her very coldly and sternly; the old

-bitter curve showed at his mouth.

-

-"No," he said, "I shall never forgive you while

-I live, Meg."  Then he turned and went out of the

-room.

-

-Meg went upstairs, tired, dispirited.  Tears

-smarted in her eyes from her rebuff.  Nellie, she

-knew, was thinking hard thoughts of her; Alan had

-not written to-day, for some reason or other; and all

-the world seemed wrong.  She went into her room

-and sat down, with a sob and some splashing tears,

-in the dark by the window.

-

-.. _`"HER DESCENT FROM HER OWN BEDROOM WAS ALMOST EASY."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-192.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "HER DESCENT FROM HER OWN BEDROOM WAS ALMOST EASY."

-

-   "HER DESCENT FROM HER OWN BEDROOM WAS ALMOST EASY."

-

-Such a great calm sky of pale, sweet stars; such

-a hushed, faint breath in the tall gum trees; such

-a low, soothing lapping of little river waves!

-

-In an hour she was very strong again; her eyes

-were dry and calm and brave; there was a great,

-sweet peace in her heart.

-

-She thought she would read for a little time, and

-grow still calmer.  There was her Browning on the

-writing table—he had strengthened her often since

-she had begun to know him; and there were a couple

-of books Alan had lent her: "At the Roots of the

-Mountains," and something of Pierre Loti's.  She

-fingered them a moment.

-

-But first she would go and speak to Nellie, who

-would be calmer too by now,—poor pretty Nellie,

-with her childish defiance and longings for "other

-things."  She went down the passage, softly, by

-Peter's room and Bunty's.  The light was shining

-beneath Nellie's door; the poor little prisoner was

-not asleep, then.

-

-She stopped and inserted the key with a flush of

-shame: how ignominious it must feel to be locked in!

-

-"Dear Nell——" she began, and then stopped aghast.

-

-The room was empty.

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`A DINNER PARTY`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XVII.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   A DINNER PARTY.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "Oh, would I were dead now,

-   |  Or up in my bed now,

-   |  To cover my head now

-   |  And have a good cry!"

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Trafalgar House, if you please.  Time,

-about eight o'clock.  Dramatis personæ some

-fifteen brilliantly-dressed ladies, and as many

-gentlemen in regulation evening attire.

-

-A great long table, magnificently set, and ablaze

-with tiny electric lamps cunningly hidden among

-foliage and splendid flowers.  At one end

-Mrs. Fitzroy-Browne in rich black satin, a truly astonishing

-cap, and twice as many glittering rings as she

-had fingers.

-

-Mrs. Fitzroy-Browne, with a large fixed smile

-that only her fork or spoon ever

-disturbed—Mrs. Fitzroy-Browne, with one anxious eye on the

-waiting servants, one half frightened on her son

-and daughters, and only the large smile for the

-guests.

-

-At the head Mr. Fitzroy-Browne, a small, neat

-man, with little eyes and a half-apologetic,

-half-assertive manner, as if he were begging your

-pardon for the great wealth that made you mere

-nobodies, and at the same time hugging himself

-mightily.

-

-.. _`"AWAY DOWN NEAR ONE END SAT NELLIE."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-195.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "AWAY DOWN NEAR ONE END SAT NELLIE."

-

-   "AWAY DOWN NEAR ONE END SAT NELLIE."

-

-At intervals down the sides the Misses Fitzroy-Browne,

-in *decolleté* dresses of latest style.

-

-Sandwiched with them and other females with

-large bare arms and rough, fashionally-coiffeured

-hair, net-covered, men of various sorts and

-conditions,—self-made men like their host, who came

-to approve the show money could make; a few of

-better position, who enjoyed the wines and good

-dinner and despised the vulgarity of the givers; a

-good-looking adventurer or two of higher society,

-remittance men, who, having almost outrun the

-constable, as a last resource came heiress-hunting.

-

-In the middle of one side Mr. Adolphus Fitzroy-Browne,

-with a large expanse of white shirt front,

-a pink-edged tie, great diamond studs, and a red

-silk sash tied at one side instead of a waistcoat.

-

-And away down near one end, a stout American

-Hebrew, dinner intent, on one side, a young man

-of the puppy order on the other, sat Nellie,—Nellie,

-looking like a little lonely field flower sprung up

-in a bed of gaudy dahlias,—Nellie, in a white, simple

-dress of home make, high-necked, long-sleeved, with

-the dying pink roses at her breast, and a silver

-"wish" bangle that cost half-a-crown for her only

-jewellery.

-

-Poor little Nell!  Never perhaps in all her fifteen

-years had she been so immeasurably miserable and

-uncomfortable.

-

-In the drawing-room the women had stared her

-up and down in scorn, and rustled about in

-voluminous silken and velvet skirts; the thought of her

-own plain, high-necked dress made her cheeks burn.

-The Misses Browne had been too busy with

-entertaining to do more than give her a nod and a word

-or two as they introduced several of the men to her.

-

-"Daughter of Captain John Woolcot," she overheard

-one of them whisper once,—"poor, but of very

-good family, related to a title; great friend of dear

-Isabel's; pretty little thing, yes; quite a charity to

-show her some life."

-

-Nellie had blushed hotly, and shrunk back into

-a corner.  Oh, if only there had been a door near

-and she could have slipped out and flown through

-the night back to dear, despised Misrule.  If only

-the floor would open and mercifully swallow her out

-of sight!  If only there was a window near, through

-which she could make her exit from Trafalgar House

-for ever!  But alas! the drawing-room was upstairs

-here, and there were no convenient tanks and

-thickly-wooded creepers such as had made her

-descent from her own bedroom almost easy.  There

-was a little patch of green on her skirt, and a pin

-held together a ripped flounce, but, certainly, no one

-in that gay assemblage suspected her of leaving her

-own home by any more unusual mode of exit than

-the front door.  It was even worse when a move

-was made towards the dining-room, and she was

-assigned to a youth in a chokingly high collar, a

-youth who said ya-as and haw, and left out his r's

-and g's because he had been told it was "as done in

-London."

-

-She was in a hot state of nervous distress even

-when no one was speaking to her; it was increased

-tenfold when she found this man evidently expected

-her to talk and be talked to all the time.

-

-He asked her whose dancing she liked best,

-Sylvia Grey's or Marion Hood's.

-

-"—I don't know either of them," she answered,

-wondering distressfully if she ought to use her

-silver knife and fork or an ordinary fork only for

-the paté-de-something that the footman had just

-given her.

-

-"Haw," said the youth, "at the

-theatre,—don't-cher-know,—haw—haw, very good."

-

-Nellie's cheeks burned.  He looked at her with

-impertinent admiration.

-

-"Like to see a garl blush myself, don't-cher-know,"

-he drawled, "shows they're young.  Lord! what

-wouldn't the old ones give to do it—our friend Miss

-Isabel, for instance?"

-

-Nell's pink deepened to scarlet under the cool

-audacity of his stare.  This was the first experience

-of the kind she had had in her life; all the men she

-had hitherto met on equal terms had been gentlemen

-unmistakably.

-

-But she did not speak; her long eyelashes lay

-almost tremblingly on her cheek, and she took a

-mouthful or two of the paté; she had decided to use

-the fork, and then crimsoned afresh to see most of

-the others employing knife as well.  The pastry broke

-up into little flaky pieces; in vain her one implement

-chased them round her plate, she could only get a

-crumb to stay on the prongs each time.

-

-"Haw—what lovely long lashes you've got,

-Miss—haw—Woolcot, wasn't it?  I suppose that's why

-you keep persistin' in lookin' down, isn't it now?"

-said the voice at her elbow.

-

-She looked up in desperation, her cheeks aflame

-again.

-

-"Haw, that's better," he said; "now I can see

-your eyes.  I couldn't when you kept them so cruelly

-hidden, don't cher see."

-

-Then the Hebrew neighbour claimed her attention.

-

-"Grand finisht dot vash at Randwick, Sat'day,"

-he said.  The servants were bringing him fresh

-supplies, so he could spare time for a minute to

-speak to the pretty little girl beside him.

-

-"Yes," assented Nellie in a hurry.  She had not

-caught what he said, but thought it would be easier

-to assent than tell him so.

-

-"And vich horse vos it you vos backing?" he

-pursued.

-

-Then she had to explain she had not heard what

-he said; and afterwards, that she had never been

-to the races in her life.

-

-The Hebrew had no other conversation at command

-just then, so he returned to his fresh plateful,

-and left her to her other neighbours, who smiled

-openly, but made no movement to help her when

-a servant brought champagne, and she was perplexed

-to know whether she ought to offer one of the many

-glasses beside her or remain passive.  She had never

-thought it possible for a meal to last the interminably

-long time this one did.

-

-The others seemed to be enjoying themselves

-exceedingly.  There was loud talking and laughing

-on both sides, wine was flowing freely, and there

-was an exhaustless supply of good things to eat.

-

-Nellie wondered miserably if Meg had found her

-out, as she dipped her finger tips into the Venetian

-glass finger bowl.  There was a tiny William Alan

-Richardson rosebud floating there; Meg had had

-a cluster stuck in her waistband when she had been

-entreating her to give up this dinner.  Dear, dear

-Meg! and to think she had vexed and worried and

-grieved her like this, just for the sake of these

-horrible people and their thrice horrible dinner-party!

-

-Her eyes ached with tears, there was a lump in

-her throat, a tightness at her heart; the young man

-at her elbow was talking, but she neither heard his

-words nor turned her head.  Then he laughed out,

-and the Hebrew gentleman touched her arm.  All

-the ladies had risen and were on their way to the

-door; she only was sitting still, her gloves yet off,

-her young, unhappy face downcast.  A wave of

-colour rushed into her cheeks, and as she jumped up

-hurriedly, every one was looking at her, half amusedly,

-half admiringly.  Isabel at the door waited for her,

-a little vexed.

-

-"What *were* you dreaming of?" she said.  "Why,

-you haven't even got your gloves on."

-

-"Dear Miss Isabel," Nellie said, entreaty almost

-tearful in her voice, "do let me go home now.

-Indeed I must,—oh do, do, do!"

-

-But "What nonsense, child!" Isabel answered,

-and bore her along with the others into the brilliantly

-lighted drawing-room.

-

-Here it was not quite so bad.  Nell saw a chair

-half hidden behind a window-curtain, and felt she

-had indeed come into a haven of peace when she

-gained it.  No one disturbed her for a time; some

-of the girls yawned openly, and kept their speech for

-the arrival of the gentlemen; one or two frankly

-closed their eyes to show the small appreciation they

-had for their own sex; the others discussed the

-men, their moustaches, money, eyes, figures, in a

-way that made the one violet in the room want to

-shrivel up or turn rosy for the shame of her

-girlhood.

-

-They all ignored Mamma Browne, who had a

-spacious velvet sofa all to herself; she would have

-liked to knit or do something with her fingers, but

-the girls had told her it wasn't "good form," so she

-only twisted them in and out of each other, and

-wondered if the people would go at eleven or twelve,

-and whether they had noticed that only three servants

-waited instead of the five they always had for

-the parties.

-

-Then she noticed the little lonely figure in white

-by the great window.  There was a droop about the

-little sweet mouth and a misty look in the sweet eyes

-that quite touched her kind old heart.  She got up

-and waddled slowly across the floor.  "Come and

-sit on the sofy with me, dearie," she said; and all

-Nellie's heart went out to her.

-

-The sofa was in a deep window at the end of the

-room, quite away from the loud-voiced, finely-dressed

-girls who so overpowered her.

-

-"Oh, do let me stay with you all the time, please!"

-she said, as she nestled down close to the motherly,

-capacious-looking old lady.  "Oh, it is much nicer

-here—may I?"

-

-"Why, of course," said Mrs. Browne; "why, I'll

-be glad to 'ave you; you ain't been enjoyin' yourself,

-I'm thinkin'?"

-

-"Oh," said Nellie, who was a polite little soul,

-even in distress, "oh, it has been very nice, I'm sure,

-only I don't go to dinner parties yet, and so I am a

-little shy, I suppose."

-

-"Well, I ain't enjoyed it," said Mrs. Browne, with

-a sigh; "they worrit my life out, these parties, and

-unsettle the servints, and make all the house rumpled

-up, and then no one says thank you or likes you a

-bit better for it all."

-

-She felt she might ease her poor old heart a little

-to this young girl, whose dress was not fine enough

-to make her haughty, and whose face was sweetly

-sympathetic.

-

-"Oh, I'm sure every one has enjoyed it very much,

-and thinks it is very kind of you to give such a nice

-party," Nellie said, touched by the tired quaver in

-the speaker's voice.

-

-"Me!" the old lady replied, with a touch of bitterness.

-"I'm only their mother, I don't give it, bless

-your soul!—all the good mothers is nowadays, is to

-mind the servints and take blame when things go

-wrong.  Me!  All I 'ave to do is to order dinner and

-stay up till every one's gone."

-

-She rocked herself to and fro unhappily; her state

-of bondage was beginning to tell upon her.

-

-"Ha' you got a mother?" she asked, turning

-sharply on her young guest.

-

-And Nellie's reply was very low and sad: "She

-died nine years ago."

-

-The poor child was in the mood to-night to

-long inexpressibly for the soft arms and breast

-of a mother.  There was silence for a few

-minutes.

-

-"Ah!" said Mrs. Browne, and her voice also was

-very low, and a little unsteady with tears, "she was

-fortunit, mothers had oughter die when their childers

-is little and loves them.  When childers is growed

-up mothers is only in the way."

-

-Nellie stretched out her young hand and stroked

-the poor old fat one that was tremblingly smoothing

-imaginary creases out of the sofa seat.  "Why, I

-would give all the world if my mother were alive,"

-she said, with eager hurrying lips, "and Meg and Pip

-would,—all of us, dear Mrs. Browne.  I think it is

-just when we are grown up we love mothers best,

-and want them most."

-

-"Not me," was the slow, sad answer, accompanied

-by a furtively wiped tear.  "Not mothers as ain't been

-learned grammar proper when they was young.

-Them's the kind of mothers as had oughter die

-afore their boys and girls are growed up."

-

-Then the gentlemen came in, and there was a

-louder buzz of talk, a new settlement of chairs, and

-presently some excessively noisy music.

-

-"I'm just goin' to get something for my 'ed, it

-aches so bad," Mrs. Browne whispered to Nellie

-after a time; "they won't notice if I slip out when

-Miss 'Udson goes to the pianee."

-

-Nellie lifted eager eyes.  "Let me come with

-you,—oh, please!" she said impulsively, and the next

-minute the two were stealing out of the nearest

-door together.

-

-In the dimly-lighted bedroom the old lady gave

-way altogether, and sobbed for a long time in a

-heartbroken way, much to Nellie's distress.

-

-"Oh, I wish I was dead, I do—I wish I was

-dead!" she said, with a little rocking movement to ease

-the sorrow of her poor old heart.  She mopped at her

-eyes occasionally with her lace-trimmed handkerchief;

-in olden days she would have put her apron

-over her head and shed her tears behind its screen;

-but even that solace was denied her now.

-

-Nell found eau-de-Cologne on the dressing-table,

-and insisted on bathing her head with it, and then

-fanning slowly with a palm leaf till the poor thing's

-agitation calmed and the burning head was a little

-cooler.

-

-"I think I've let things worrit me too much

-to-day," was her faltering excuse when, half an hour

-later, she awoke to the fact that Nellie was still

-fanning her; "but no one knows what my poor 'ed

-'as been lately.  Marthy the parlour-maid was sick

-last night, poor thing, and I sat with her till near

-two; and James the other footman begged me to let

-'im go off—they said 'is little girl was bad with

-scarlet-fever.  I 'ad to let 'im, of course, and you

-could see 'ow vexed Pa was when we was

-short-'anded at table.  It worrited me awful."

-

-There was a rustle of silken skirts along the

-corridor, and a patter of high-heeled shoes.  Isabel

-had suddenly missed her young guest, whose eyes

-she had so wanted to dazzle; it struck her with

-infinite vexation that it was more than probable

-she was with her mother, despising her hugely for

-her ungrammatical language and many banalities.

-

-"Well, really!" she said, sweeping into the

-bedroom, and looking vexedly at the two on the sofa.

-

-Mrs. Browne struggled instantly to her feet.

-

-"I'm just comin', my dear,—comin' this minute,"

-she said, in a voice whose nervousness struck Nellie

-as strangely pathetic.  "I thought the folk wouldn't

-be missin' me just for a bit."

-

-"Oh, I never expect *you* to do things like other

-hostesses," her daughter answered rudely.  Then

-she turned to Nellie.

-

-"I don't know what you want to run away like

-this for; I shall begin to think you're not enjoying

-yourself.  Come, we're going into the ballroom to

-have a dance or two: can you do the cotillon?"

-

-She swept her away to the lights and music again,

-to fresh vexation of spirit that self-forgetfulness for

-a time had made less keen.

-

-In the midst of a waltz with her odious dinner

-companion Nell caught sight of her so-called hostess,

-who had followed her daughter back to the room.

-

-She was sitting, poor fat old creature, on a stiff

-chair near the wall, blinking patiently at the dancers,

-the large set smile on her face again, and a headache

-pucker on her forehead.

-

-To Nellie the one bright spot in that dreadful

-evening was the thought of her touching, surprised

-gratitude at the trifling service she had done her.

-

-"I just wish you was my little girl!" was her

-wistful speech at parting, when twelve o'clock put

-an end to the revels,—"oh, 'ow I wish you was

-my little girl!"

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`"HOW GOOD YOU OUGHT TO BE!"`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XVIII.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   "HOW GOOD YOU OUGHT TO BE!"

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "Greater than anger

-   |  Is love, and subdueth."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-The silence of midnight hung over all the

-house—there was darkness in all the rooms

-save one.  Outside, the rain was falling, but

-without noise; sometimes the wind blew it against the

-window-panes in little gusts like the light spray of

-waves, but for the most part it fell in straight,

-silent sheets upon the soaking garden and paddocks.

-Now and again the same fitful wind stirred a

-Japanese sun-blind at the end of the side verandah.

-It had a broken pulley, and was hauled up slant-wise;

-when the wind stirred, it moaned and creaked

-like a live creature.

-

-Meg was sitting on the drawing-room hearthrug,

-her head in her hands, her fair hair rumpled back

-from her forehead, her eyes, intensely thoughtful,

-fixed on the ashes in the grate.  Early in the

-evening a fire had been lighted; for, although it was

-only May, it had been a chilly day.  The fire had gone

-out, however, and Meg had not noticed this, though

-she had been staring hard at it most of the time.

-

-Only one gas-jet was alight, and it was turned low—the

-room had almost an eerie look in the faint light.

-A great vase of pampas grass and bulrushes loomed

-tall and ghostly from the corner near the piano; and

-a wet, dull moon—when the drifting clouds

-permitted—looked in at a little side window where the

-blind was not drawn.

-

-Every one in the house was asleep but Meg.

-

-She was sitting up for Nellie.

-

-Pip had gone out before she had found the bird

-was flown from the cage in which he had locked

-her.  There was a smoking concert at one of the

-Colleges, and he had left word that he should not

-be back that night at all—the last boat left so

-ridiculously early that one of the men had offered

-him a bed.

-

-So Meg kept her lonely watch with cold feet and

-low spirits.

-

-She was wondering if it was not very selfish of

-her to think of being married.  Alan had given her

-a year, under protest,—at the end of that time he

-would assuredly claim her.  No one was less

-conceited than our sweet, pale Margaret, but she could

-not help seeing that things would be much worse

-at Misrule when her place knew her no more.

-There was little, eager Poppet with her excitable

-nature and wonderful capacity for feeling

-everything,—who would listen patiently to all her funny

-little plans and thoughts, or take an interest in her

-keen childish troubles and joys?  Poor, reclaimed

-Bunty, whose sullen reserve and brooding fits of

-depression she was just beginning to understand

-and sympathise with—if the old days of "John"

-and carping blame began again, his character would

-be ruined.

-

-And Pip, who had just left his glad boyhood paths

-and was stepping so carelessly into the strange,

-sorrowful ones of manhood, where there were

-precipices and pitfalls at every turn,—how she

-longed to be at his elbow again, giving him the

-right kind of help!  He had spurned her away just

-now, she knew; but soon, she felt certain, she could

-slip back to him as if nothing had happened, and

-keep him from worse things, perhaps.

-

-But not if she made fresh ties for herself.

-

-She told some of her fears, half falteringly, to

-Alan.

-

-"I think you must give me longer," she said.

-

-But he only laughed at her.  Men never

-understand these things.

-

-"I didn't think you were conceited, Meg," he

-said; "why, Nellie will make a model eldest sister,

-by-and-by, of course.  And I have far more need

-of you than these children have.  And I'm not

-going to take you to New Zealand or the Islands;

-we shall live somewhere in Sydney, and you will

-still be able to keep your eye on Bunty's

-collar,—that's the greatest grievance, isn't it?"

-

-Meg was trying to imagine beautiful, spoilt Nell

-as a model eldest sister this evening as she sat on

-the hearthrug.  Why, not one of the young ones

-would have acted so wrongfully, so utterly foolishly

-as she had done about these Brownes; the girl had

-no "balance" naturally, and her great beauty already

-seemed likely to prove as much of a snare as

-beauty is popularly supposed to be.  She was not

-even decently educated; the daily governess they

-had had so long had been a person of weak will,

-and Nellie in especial had learned or refused to learn

-much as she pleased.  True, she could play and

-sing fairly well, and write a ladylike hand; but her

-French was hopeless, her slate pencil had not

-travelled beyond discount and the rule of three, and

-her acquaintance with the great lights of English

-literature was so restricted that, though she knew

-Shakespeare wrote "Romeo and Juliet," and

-"Paradise Lost" was composed by one John Milton,

-nearly all the other names she met conveyed nothing

-more to her mind than that they were "men at the

-end of the history book."

-

-Meg's lips grew severe as the night wore on.

-In truth she did not know what to do in this

-crisis, she felt so young and powerless.  If Nellie

-insisted on going to Trafalgar House every night

-of her life, how could she prevent it?  She told

-herself her sister knew this, and was taking

-advantage of their father's absence in an exceedingly

-unworthy way.

-

-Through the rain came the half-deadened sound

-of wheels along the road.  Meg stood up, cramped

-and cold, sick at heart.  How she did dread and

-detest "scenes," and she knew there must be one!

-

-The gate clicked, but no wheels came up the

-drive.  Meg pulled herself together and went out to

-the front door with a little shiver.  She knew exactly

-how it would all be: Nell would be flushed and

-beautiful and defiant; she would brush past her and

-go upstairs in her pretty, white trailing gown, her

-head very high.  She would most probably say

-"Mind your own business" or "Hold your tongue,"

-for both these phrases were in Miss Nellie's

-vocabulary of anger.  And then she would lock her

-bedroom door and go to sleep, rebellious as ever.

-

-Her cold hand pulled back the heavy fastening of

-the door when light footsteps fell on the verandah.

-She stood there in silence.  But oh! such a little

-woebegone, dripping wet figure was there, with no

-wrap on at all, and only a bit of soaking lace on

-her head!

-

-"Oh, Meg!" she said, and sprang into her sister's

-arms with a hysterical sob of relief.  "Oh, Meg,

-Meg, Meg! oh, my darling old Meg!"

-

-What could Meg do?

-

-Be angry when the wilful, beautiful creature was

-sobbing so pitifully?

-

-Shake her aside and speak coldly when she was

-clinging to her with such a passion of love and relief?

-She kissed the face, wet with rain and tears.

-

-"Come and get your wet things off, dear," she

-said; "you should have driven up to the door, the

-drive's so long."

-

-"I was afraid it would wake every one," was

-Nellie's answer, broken in three places.

-

-Even when Meg had taken off, with her own

-hands, the poor spoiled white dress, and wet white

-gloves, and little muddy shoes; when she had made

-up a crackling fire of wood in the bedroom open

-fireplace, and brought her own cosy red dressing-gown

-and a white shawl for array, Nellie still wept

-heartbrokenly.

-

-She was overwrought with the excitement of her

-escape, the evening, and her return.  And now

-Meg's tenderness and utter absence of reproach

-broke her down altogether.

-

-She put her head on the arm of the easy chair,

-and all her body shook with sobs.

-

-Meg only stroked the wealth of beautiful hair she

-had let down to dry; she felt it better not to speak

-at all.

-

-By-and-by she slipped out of the room and stole

-down to the kitchen.  When she returned, Nellie

-was a little calmer, and even gave a wet look of

-interest at the tray she carried.  There was a little

-old saucepan on it, a tin of *café-au-lait*, two cups,

-sugar in a saucer, the end of a loaf of bread, and some

-pineapple jam.

-

-"I couldn't find the butter," she said, half

-apologetically, as she set down her load on the bed edge.

-

-"Oh, I don't deserve it!" wept Nellie, meaning less

-the butter than Meg's kindness.

-

-They had to use the water out of the wash-stand

-bottle, and in the absence of spoons had to stir their

-cups with the bone ends of their toothbrushes, but

-the meal gave them both new life and spirits.  Meg

-toasted the bread on the end of her knife and spread a

-piece thickly with the toothsome jam.  She proffered

-it to Nell with burnt cheeks and a gay little laugh.

-

-"Oh, *Meg*, you are the best girl on earth!" the

-girl said, flinging her arms impetuously around her

-sister's neck.  "I'm not fit to black your boots!

-there's nobody just like you, Meg, in all the world.

-Oh, Meg darling, why can't you make me more like

-you?"

-

-.. _`"'LOOK!' SAID MEG."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-215.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'LOOK!' SAID MEG."

-

-   "'LOOK!' SAID MEG."

-

-Meg only kissed her for answer, kissed her with

-a sweet, moved look on her face.  And then Nellie

-told everything: how she had dropped from the

-window on to the tanks and scrambled down from

-there with the help of the creeper, how she had

-been in time for the brougham they had sent, how

-utterly miserable she had been all the evening.

-

-She declared their own comparative poverty

-seemed beautiful against the Brownes' wealth and

-glaring vulgarity.

-

-Meg saw all the girl's sensitive nature had suffered,

-and uttered not a word of rebuke; she even said they

-would keep the affair to themselves, and not tell Pip.

-

-But she dropped one little word in season before

-she went to her own room to bed.

-

-The dressing-gown suited the girl's exquisite

-young beauty marvellously; all the time they had

-talked Meg could not help admiring.

-

-When they got up she drew her quietly to the

-long glass of the dressing-table.

-

-Oh the wonderful picture it showed! the rich,

-warm colouring of the graceful gown, the young

-sweet face with its dewy eyes and tremulous lips

-and pink flush, and all the soft great waves of riotous

-hair one golden splendour to her waist!

-

-"Look!" said Meg.

-

-The girl looked at her image shyly, almost

-shamedly, but with a certain little glad quickening

-at her heart.

-

-"Oh, *Nellie*! how good you ought to be!" whispered

-the elder girl, and kissed her and slipped away.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`HEADACHE AND HEARTACHE`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XIX.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   HEADACHE AND HEARTACHE.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "Look where the healing waters run,

-   |  And strive and strain to be good again."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Poor little Nell,—it was almost pitiful to see

-how good she tried to be after her escapade.

-There was absolutely nothing she would not have

-done for Meg.  She begged to be allowed to help

-in the housekeeping, offered to take the darning

-of Bunty's socks and Peter's terrible stockings as

-her own particular work, and sternly refrained from

-looking in her glass when it was not necessary for

-the straight set of her collar or respectable

-appearance of her hair.

-

-She consulted Meg as to the best study she could

-take up—she said she felt ashamed to be so

-dreadfully ignorant.

-

-"Why, I haven't read anything better than Jessie

-Fothergill and Rhoda Broughton this year," she

-said, in a tone of stern surprise at herself.

-

-Meg suggested the "Essays of Elia," "The Professor

-at the Breakfast Table," "Sesame and Lilies,"

-Lives of various poets.

-

-"You can go then gradually to something deeper,"

-she said.  "I'm afraid you might be discouraged if

-you started on anything more solid just yet."

-

-But Nellie's zeal was too tremendous for half

-measures.

-

-During the morning of the day after the dinner

-party, Meg had occasion to go into the nursery for

-something or other during Miss Monson's hours, and

-with difficulty restrained a smile.

-

-Nellie always studied—or pretended to—at a

-rickety-legged draught-table in the window.  Her

-working materials hitherto had consisted of a chased

-silver pen that looked too elegant to write with,

-an ornamental inkstand with violet and red ink,

-a box of chocolates, a novel in brown paper covers,

-"Le Chien," highly dilapidated, and "Samson

-Agonistes," which she was supposed to be studying

-in detail.

-

-This morning all was changed.  There was

-black ink in the bottles, the silver pen was invisible,

-and a plain penny red one occupied its place on the

-stag's head.  No trace of chocolates, no covered

-fiction at all.  Instead, a pile of books selected from

-the study simply because they were the most solid

-looking and driest on the shelves.  The choice

-had occupied Nellie for almost an hour; if any she

-took down had spaced matter, light-looking

-conversations, or broken-up paragraphs she instantly

-replaced them.  She had finally selected and carried

-to the nursery, to Miss Monson's incredulous

-surprise, the following six: "Sartor Resartus," "The

-Wealth of Nations," "Marcus Aurelius," "Mazzini's

-Essays," the "Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire,"

-and Johnson's "Rasselas."

-

-When Meg came in she was struggling with

-Carlyle, fingers at ears to keep him quite apart from

-the object lesson on Ants which Miss Monson was

-delivering to Poppet and Peter.  In the afternoon

-she practised for two consecutive hours, not waltzes

-and scraps from the "Mikado" and "Gondoliers"

-and "Paul Jones" as usual, but Plaidy's technical

-studies and Czerny's Velocity Exercises and a fugue

-from Bach.

-

-At night she took out a quantity of red wool

-that she found in a box, and began to crochet a

-petticoat for an old woman who lived in a tumble-down

-bark hut near the river, and had the reputation

-of being mother of two bushrangers who had been

-shot, sister to a famous murderer, and daughter

-of one of the early Botany Bay convicts.

-

-But of course such an abnormal state of goodness

-could not be expected to continue uninterruptedly,

-at any rate in its early days.  In less than a

-fortnight the silver pen made its reappearance, and

-violet ink crept back into one of the bottles.  The

-crochet needle was slipped out of the sixth row of

-the petticoat and made to work fleecy white wool

-up into that pretty style of head wrap known as a

-"fascinator."

-

-"Oh, I didn't do anything so very dreadful, after

-all," she said to herself, with the blunted memory of

-ten days.  "Dear old Meg is always a little inclined

-to make mountains out of molehills."

-

-At first there had been a little real fright mixed

-with the thought of the dinner-party.  Five days

-after it was over, she was in at the chemist's spending

-eighteenpence of her allowance on a sweet little

-bottle of scent for Meg.

-

-And one of the grooms from Trafalgar House

-came in with a prescription.

-

-"The old lady's pretty bad," he said, in answer

-to a question of the chemist that Nell had not

-caught, "and two more of the maids are down."

-

-Nellie lingered a few minutes, counted her change

-several times, examined the nail and tooth-brushes

-displayed in a glass case, and read an advertisement

-setting forth the merits of somebody's pills.

-

-The man said he would call back for the medicine

-in half an hour, and departed.  Then she went back

-to the counter.

-

-"Is it Mrs. Fitzroy-Browne who is ill?" she asked,

-remembering with a pang the poor old woman's

-wistful "I just wish you was my little girl!"

-

-"Yes, she's down with scarlet-fever—several of

-the servants too," he said, and went to the gas to

-melt some sealing-wax.

-

-The girl went home with a grave face.  Apart

-from regret at the old lady's illness, there was the

-fear that she herself might have caught it.  She

-went straight to her room and examined her tongue

-anxiously at the glass; then she held one wrist

-gravely with a finger and thumb, and asked herself

-if she felt feverish.

-

-But the pulse was calm, the tongue healthily

-red,—she laughed at herself.

-

-"I never felt better in my life," she said aloud.

-After some deliberation she decided she would

-not tell Meg.  "She'd only worry, and prepare

-herself for my immediate funeral," she thought.  "I

-should be all over red spots by now if I had

-got it."

-

-So that is how it happened, when ten days had

-gone and she still felt exuberantly well, that the

-silver pen returned and the fascinator was

-commenced.  One could not wear sackcloth for ever.

-

-She even borrowed "Comin' thro' the Rye" and

-"Joan" from a girl-friend; and "Rasselas" and

-"Sartor Resartus" slipped down behind the table

-and were forgotten.

-

-But she had intended all the time to consult Alan.

-He had been away for almost a fortnight in Victoria,

-or she would have asked him before.

-

-The afternoon he returned, and as soon as she

-could get him away from Meg, she asked him if he

-would come down into the garden with her, as she

-wanted to ask him something very particularly.

-

-The young doctor laughed, and put himself very

-much at her service.

-

-"I hope it's not about the style of hats in

-Melbourne," he said in mock alarm, as they went down

-the path; "for I culpably forgot to notice.  If it's

-only sleeves, now, I can tell you—they're up to the

-ears, and a yard and a half wide."

-

-"It's about the state of my health," she said

-sententiously,—"I wish to consult you *professionally*,

-Dr. Courtney!"

-

-He put on a sympathetic look.

-

-"The heart, I suppose?" he said.

-

-But Nell stopped short in the summer-house.

-

-"Don't be stupid!" she said.  "Look here, Alan,

-have I, or have I not, got scarlet-fever?"

-

-He could not help laughing.  It seemed so absurd

-for a fine girl—the picture of health—to ask such

-a question.

-

-"Your skin is cool—your pulse normal—your

-tongue fit for a health advertisement.  If you have

-got it you're managing to conceal it very well," he

-said.  "You might give me the recipe for my other

-patients."

-

-"I was talking to some one who had scarlet-fever

-just after," Nell returned,—"that's all."

-

-There was no fun in Alan's face now.

-

-"When?" he said sharply.

-

-"Oh, nearly a fortnight ago!"

-

-"You've not got it, then," he said.  "Did you

-change your things after?—take every precaution?

-How did it happen?"

-

-She told him everything, blushing hotly at the

-surprise in his face when he heard she had been to

-Trafalgar House.

-

-He looked exceedingly serious over it.

-

-"There's no knowing what may be the end of it,"

-he said, a frown of anxiety on his brow.  "How

-could you do such a thing, Nellie?  You might

-have known Meg's judgment would be good."

-

-"But you say I haven't got it," the girl answered,

-resenting the elder-brotherly tone of reproof, "so

-there's no need for any more fuss."

-

-"How do I know you did not bring it home with

-you and give it to one of the others?" he said

-shortly.

-

-Nell looked aghast.

-

-"Why, I couldn't do that, could I?" she said,

-with startled eyes.  "I never dreamt any one but

-I could have got it."

-

-"You ought not to have been allowed with the

-others," he said.  "However, as things are, I

-daresay no harm has been done.  No one has been

-complaining of headache or sore throat, have they?"

-

-Nellie thought hard for a minute or two.  She

-reviewed each member of the family rapidly in

-succession, and tried to remember if any one's appetite

-had failed at any meal lately, that was always the

-great test of health at Misrule.

-

-"No," she said at last.  Then she caught her breath.

-

-"Essie had a headache this morning," she faltered.

-"Oh, but she fell down and bumped her head, so

-that accounts, and she ate four jam tarts yesterday

-when no one was in the room; that's the cause of

-hers, Alan, isn't it?—oh, you can see it is."

-

-"I'll look at her," he said.  "Does Meg know

-anything about all this?"

-

-"I didn't like to worry her," Nellie answered,

-and followed him up the path like a criminal found

-out in blackest iniquity.  She had never dreamed

-she was endangering the others.  Poppet met them

-on the second path.

-

-"Afternoon tea's ready, and Meg says aren't

-you two ever coming in.  No, I don't want any,

-there's only gingerbread."

-

-.. _`"PETER WAS ENGAGED IN CHASING A FAT DUCK."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-225.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "PETER WAS ENGAGED IN CHASING A FAT DUCK."

-

-   "PETER WAS ENGAGED IN CHASING A FAT DUCK."

-

-Alan felt her pulse, and asked to see her tongue.

-

-"There's something alarming in a little girl who

-doesn't like gingerbread," he said; but there was a

-professional look in his eye.

-

-"She never eats gingerbread," Nell exclaimed,

-almost indignant with him for having fears when

-the child looked so rosy.

-

-"Poppet's all right," he said in a low tone, as

-they went on; and Nellie could have cried in her

-relief.

-

-"Peter next," she said.

-

-They went down into the paddock, where Peter

-was engaged in chasing a fat duck from end to end,

-without a thought in his mind of being cruel to it.

-He was hot, certainly, but that was the exertion of

-running and shouting.

-

-"Is your throat sore?" Nellie burst out, before

-they fairly reached him.

-

-"I thould think I can thout if I like," he said

-in an injured tone, taking her anxious query for

-sarcasm.

-

-Alan caught him by the back of his sailor

-coat.

-

-"Mad, quite mad," he said—"only lunatics rush

-about like this.  Hold him while we find out the

-symptoms, Nellie, and see whether we'll have to

-extract his teeth, or put his legs in

-plaster-of-Paris."

-

-"He's all right too, I think," he said, when the

-released boy sprang away again after the duck, that

-was panting in a corner with one anxious eye on

-its enemy.

-

-"Bunty's *beautifully* well," Nell said eagerly, as

-they went up to the house again.  "You should

-just see him eat, Alan.  And Pip is splendid, so is

-Meg, as you can see."

-

-Meg was standing on the front verandah, a

-troubled look in her eyes.

-

-"Oh, there you are!" she said.

-

-"Here we are," said Nellie.  She drooped her

-eyes guiltily.  "Is the tea cold?"

-

-But Meg did not answer her.

-

-"I wish you'd come and look at Essie, Alan,"

-she said.  "She's been eating pastry, and it's

-upset her, poor little thing.  I don't like her looks."

-

-"Does her head ache?" Nellie asked with dry lips.

-

-"She says her head aches, her throat aches,

-and her legs ache,—everything aches," was Meg's

-answer.  "Esther always gives her aconite if she's

-out of sorts, Alan.  I gave her five drops this

-morning: was that right?"

-

-"Quite," he said; "I'll go up and look at her now."

-

-He went up the stairs behind Meg, a very grave

-look in his eyes.

-

-And Nellie followed with a face as colourless

-as the great white roses she had stuck in her belt

-so lightheartedly half an hour ago.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`MY LITTLE ONE DAUGHTER`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XX.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   MY LITTLE ONE DAUGHTER.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |        "Misery,—oh!  Misery,

-   |  This world is all too wide for thee!"

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-The very next day came a letter from India.

-

-"Oh, this beautiful, beautiful country!" wrote

-Esther.  "Oh, the colouring, the life in everything I

-I cannot tell you how *new*, painfully new, Australia

-seems compared with it.  Imagine a little perky,

-pretty cottage beside a grand old castle, whose

-walls bear the mark of centuries.  India is the castle.

-Or a nice, clean, healthy child in pinafores, very

-fond of play, and more than a little inclined to

-be spoilt, beside an old, old seer with a grand

-head grown white with wisdom, and wide eyes dim

-with staring at eternity.  Australia is the nice clean

-child.

-

-"It is the age of the place that sobers me.  I feel

-I ought to go about on tiptoe and speak in a whisper

-half the time.  We are at Ajmere just now: from

-the window here I can see a white temple on the

-peak of wild mountains.  It is called Taraghur, or

-the abode of the stars, and the Mohammedans make

-pilgrimages to it.  Yesterday we rode (I wear a white

-linen habit and a helmet, girls) to Pookur, twelve

-miles away.  It is a spot considered sacred by the

-Hindoos; indeed, it is one of the most sacred places

-in India.  There is a lake lying in a basin among

-the hills, with its banks studded with buildings, old

-temples, and gardens, and in the centre a ruined

-fane I am afraid to say how many hundreds and

-hundreds of years old.

-

-"To-morrow we go to Musseerabad, where the

-garrison is that your father has to take notes about;

-then on to Oodeypore; after that I am not certain of

-the programme, only—don't all exclaim at once, or

-I shall hear even at this distance—we cannot possibly

-be back in the time we said.  Your father has written

-for two months' extension, and really, though of

-course I want to see you all, and ache sometimes

-for a sight of my baby's little dear dirty face, I

-shouldn't like to come without seeing more.  Fancy

-if we had to come back without visiting the Taj

-Mahal!  My only anxiety is that any one should be

-ill; but then, again, I don't see why any one should

-be so inconsiderate,—you've all managed to keep in

-splendid health for years; just keep a clean bill till

-I get back, and then you shall all take it in turns

-if you like.  Dear Meg, keep Essie's hands from

-picking and stealing.  I dreamt the other night she

-ate a cocoanut and went in a fit.  And Peter, my

-precious son, don't climb the pine tree till mum

-comes back—if you must break your dear little

-collar bone at least give me the satisfaction of seeing

-it done.  Of course there is no earthly reason why

-any of you should be ill, but I worry a little at times;

-I suppose it is because of the difficulty in getting

-letters.  We never know where we are going next,

-so they can't send on the mails from Bombay to us

-till we write for them.  I will send you, by the next

-mail, an address to write to: we have not decided

-yet whether we are going to Hyderabad, Madras,

-or Calcutta.  We are picking up presents for you

-all,—the loveliest chessmen for Pip, a wonderful

-cabinet of Bhoondee carving for Meg, moonstones

-from Ceylon for Nell,—something for every one.

-Such a box we shall have.

-

-"Good-bye, my chickies all; take care of yourselves,

-and have as good a time as you can.  If you

-should be just a little extravagant with the

-housekeeping money, Meg, I won't scold you much; you

-can let Bennett's bill run if you like, and have a

-little garden party or jollification.  Every one kiss

-my little one daughter for me.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-.. class:: noindent white-space-pre-line

-

-"Your loving old mother,

-    "ESTHER."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-It was only the last part they heeded.  What

-were descriptions of old temples to them with that

-little tossing head on the pillow?

-

-"Oh, Esther,—poor, poor Esther!" Meg said,

-with the first sob in her throat since Alan had

-pronounced it to be the fever—"oh, *if* she

-knew!"  But she was mercifully spared that knowledge.

-They held a grave consultation together, Meg, Nell,

-Pipi and the family doctor, while Alan stayed at the

-bedside.  It really seemed useless to send for the

-travellers to come home.  If it was only a slight

-attack the child would be quite well again by the

-time they returned; if—there was a catching of

-breaths—if even the very worst should happen,

-still they could not be home in time, and oh! what

-agony of mind they would have during the long

-voyage.  It was even no use sending a cable until

-they received Esther's next letter, for they had no

-address.

-

-The doctor decided the matter.

-

-"Don't send," he said; "please God we'll have

-the little woman up and well in no time.  I will

-send in a trained nurse, she shall have every care

-possible.  Mrs. Woolcot could not do anything

-further if she were here herself.  Now about the

-other little folks."

-

-It had been decided at once to send the others

-away from fear of infection.  Pip had even suggested

-packing them off by the early morning train to

-Yarrahappini.

-

-But the doctor shook his head.  There was the

-chance that they had the germs in their systems

-even now; it was neither fair to send them into other

-families, nor yet wise to allow them to go far from

-home nursing.

-

-There was a furnished cottage about half a mile

-up the road: he advised that Poppet, Peter, and

-Bunty should be removed there until all danger of

-infection was over.

-

-"This young lady might go to look after them,"

-he said, laying his hand on Nellie's shoulder.  "They

-will want some one, of course, and Miss Margaret

-will be quite sufficient to help the lady I shall send in."

-

-Nellie lifted great beseeching eyes, rimmed with

-the shadows of a sleepless night.

-

-"Oh, let me stay! oh, I must stay,—it would

-kill me to have to go!" she said, with a great sob.

-

-"Of course you will have to go, Nellie," Pip said

-hastily; "don't make extra trouble by being

-tiresome,—surely you have done enough."

-

-"Oh, hush!" said Meg.

-

-Pip knew now how the infection had been brought,

-and could not find any excuse for his sister.

-

-.. _`"'OH, LET ME STAY!  OH, I MUST STAY!'"`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-233.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'OH, LET ME STAY!  OH, I MUST STAY!'"

-

-   "'OH, LET ME STAY!  OH, I MUST STAY!'"

-

-But Meg saw the wince of pain that his words

-caused the poor girl, and knew a little what an

-agony of remorse she was suffering.

-

-"She'll be out of the danger, too," Pip added, a

-little ashamed of himself when he saw the beautiful,

-miserable eyes.

-

-Out of the danger!  And the girl was in such a

-frenzy of repentance and grief, she would gladly have

-laid down her life just to see Essie go flying down

-the drive in a losing race with Flibbertigibbet.

-

-She caught the doctor's arm.

-

-"I would watch night and day—I would do anything

-in the world, anything—oh! *let* me stay," she

-said.

-

-"Poor little girl!" he answered, and patted her

-bright head; he had learnt something of the heart

-apart from its physiological formation during his long

-practice.  "Poor little girl! standing still is very

-hard work, isn't it?  But all soldiers can't fight at

-the same time, you know.

-

-   |  "'Yours not to reason why,

-   |  Yours but to do or die.

-

-That's not for sword-soldiers only, little girl."

-

-Poor Nellie! no punishment on earth could have

-been harder for her.  To die—that would be quite

-easy, pleasant even; but to remain passive—oh! it

-needed greater courage than hers.

-

-To go away, to leave the house, and not even

-venture past the gates again for weeks, not to see

-the little sweet sister upon whom her wilfulness alone

-had brought this suffering, not even to have the

-relief of spending her strength in nursing!  To go

-away, and eat and sleep and pass the time doing

-ordinary things, and trying to keep Bunty, and

-Poppet, and Peter comfortable and happy!

-

-No one would ever know quite what it cost the

-girl, but it had to be done.

-

-"Mayn't I just see her for one minute, Meg?"

-she said, her courage failing her at the last minute.

-

-It almost made Meg cry to see the utter despair

-and misery on her face, and to have to refuse her.

-

-"Alan shall tell you every day how she is.

-Dear Nell, you know I dare not let you go into the

-room."

-

-Then she went away to take up her post with the

-nurse.  And Nellie, with that unutterable ache at

-her heart, had to go and collect the clothes they

-would all need, the books, playthings,—everything.

-

-She and Poppet, with Bunty's help, were to do the

-work of the cottage between them.  At first, Meg

-had thought of letting Martha go with them, but

-afterwards it occurred to her it might be better to

-let Nellie cook, wash up, and see to everything, just

-to keep her time occupied.

-

-Bunty was to go to school daily, but Miss Monson

-relinquished her duties for a time.  She had two

-little sisters and a baby brother at home; no one

-could say that Peter or Poppet would not sicken

-personally, and she dare not run the risk.  "But

-Nellie can easily manage the little ones," she said,

-"and even keep up her own studies; she will have

-plenty of time."

-

-The little sick child was put into Esther's room,

-and a bed made up on the sofa for Meg or the nurse.

-The window looked straight to the gate, and could

-be seen through a gap in the acacias.  They arranged

-a code of signals to be waved by Meg through it

-three times a day.  She kept a walking-stick of

-the Captain's just near the window, and with it a

-white towel, an old red dressing-gown of Poppet's,

-and a black wool shawl belonging to Martha.  The

-black signal meant "Better,"—not for worlds would

-they have used the black for "Worse"; the white

-meant "No change"; the red, "Not so well."

-

-And when that was settled, and every other little

-matter, and the dogcart filled and sent off with the

-luggage, then the four sorrowful little figures walked

-slowly down the drive, waved with wet eyes to Meg

-at the window, and disappeared round the bend in

-the road.

-

-And Misrule, strangely quiet for days and days,

-saw only the silent-footed nurse in her grey dress

-and cap, and poor Meg with her young shoulders

-weighed down with the responsibility; the two

-doctors, Alan and the old one, on occasion, and the

-maids.  Nobody shouted in the nursery or quarrelled

-and laughed along the passages; no little girls ran

-lightly down the stairs; no boys tramped up with

-muddy boots.  No ringing voices floated from the

-grounds through the open windows; no flying figures

-and yelping dogs went down the drive.

-

-Meg's face grew grave and old-looking those long,

-slow, silent days when there was so little to be done

-and so much to fight for.  She lost her old trick of

-dimpling when she smiled—she almost lost the trick

-of smiling at all.  Always there was a picture before

-her eyes,—Esther coming towards her, radiant with

-the happiness of home-coming, Esther with

-outstretched arms and bright eyes with no shadow of

-suspicion in them.

-

-Always the picture was speaking—

-

-"Meg, where is Essie?—what have you done with

-my baby, Meg?"

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`THE SEVENTH DAY`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XXI.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   THE SEVENTH DAY.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "When the heart is sick,

-   |  And all the wheels of Being slow."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Seven leaden days had come and gone.  To-night

-they said the little child would die or live.

-But the second would need almost a miracle.

-

-All day the red signal had drooped out of a

-front upstairs window of Misrule.  Five times had

-the children from the cottage trailed with sick hearts

-up the long red road to the house, and each time

-had that sorrowful signal been there.

-

-Meg's heart had bled as she floated it out in

-the morning; only that they had her faithful

-promise they should not be deceived, she could not

-have borne to put it there.  "Not so well," they

-had agreed it should mean, but her heart said

-"Dying" as she fastened it, and she knew the

-little anxious-eyed group at the gate would read

-it so.

-

-Such a tiny darling it was, such a wee frail body

-for the fierce fever to feed upon.  How could it

-stretch out its little listless hands and grasp strongly

-at that strange thing Life that was slipping so fast

-away?  And ah, God! that those standing by so wild

-with grief might not put out their eager hands and

-seize it for her!

-

-After the fifth sad journey the children dragged

-to the cottage again and cried themselves sick.

-Poppet began.  The minute they got inside the

-little front room she dropped down in a heap on

-the oilcloth and sobbed in a wild hysterical way

-that shook her poor little body all over.  Peter fell

-down beside her and cried in the bitter, astonished,

-whole-souled fashion of very small children.  And

-Bunty put his rough head down on the table with

-both his arms round it.  Nellie walked past them

-all into her tiny bedroom, and only God saw her

-despairing grief.  They had had tea before they

-went the last time, and the early winter darkness

-had fallen already, though it was only seven o'clock.

-

-Alan had promised to come in at nine and give

-them the latest report, but how could any of them

-see the end of that interval with such wet eyes?

-Time seemed to have ceased for them altogether just now.

-

-After a time, however, Peter sat up straight and

-looked around; childish tears, thank Heaven, dry

-quickly.  There was one of his little tin soldiers on

-the hearthrug, and he picked it up gratefully and

-held it in his small warm hand.  Near the fender

-two of the horsemen with red caps were lying; he

-would like to have reached them as well, only

-Poppet's chest was on his other arm, and he could

-not bear to disturb her.

-

-Five more minutes ticked away by the funny old

-clock on the mantelpiece.  It pointed to a quarter

-to eight, and had just struck eleven; they all knew

-by that it was about twenty minutes past seven.

-

-Peter sighed, and very, very softly withdrew his

-small cramped arm; he waited a minute or two

-longer, and then crawled over to the horsemen.  He

-felt a chastened joy to find all the boxful in the

-fender just as he had left them yesterday after the

-war against the Matabele tribes.  He had painted

-one of them black for Lobengula, and it reminded

-him of the exciting game he had had over his

-capture.  He wondered, poor little tear-weary boy,

-would Essie mind very much if he had a little, only

-a little, game very quietly on the floor now; the

-oilcloth had beautiful yellow squares, all ready for

-the different detachments.

-

-Poppet's head was turned the other way; he

-fancied she was asleep, she lay so still; Bunty at

-the table had stopped breathing loudly; perhaps he

-was asleep too; and Nellie was in her room.

-

-.. _`"'NELTHONETH COPPED THE IMPITH!'"`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-241.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'NELTHONETH COPPED THE IMPITH!'"

-

-   "'NELTHONETH COPPED THE IMPITH!'"

-

-He marshalled the little figures up in rows, army

-against army; the brass toy cannon he gave to the

-English, but to make up, he put a few more men on

-the side of the Matabeles.  He always felt secretly

-sorry for them, and often gave Lobengula loopholes

-of escape that he did not permit to Nelson, Gordon,

-and Marlborough, who, with small-boy enthusiasm,

-he had placed in command of his British forces.

-

-The clock struck six, indicated eight, and meant

-half-past seven.  Then the stillness of the little

-lamp-lit room was suddenly broken.

-

-"Nelthonth copped the Impith! hurrah—hip, hip,

-hur——"

-

-Poppet sat up speechless.  Poor little sinful Peter

-lowered his head at her accusing eyes and whimpered

-softly.

-

-"You *cwuel* boy!" she said

-

-"I wath only picking them up," he returned, so

-bitterly ashamed he could not be quite truthful.

-

-"*I've* been cwying hard all the time," was Poppet's

-sorrowfully superior answer; she was feeling

-disappointed with herself at being so near her own last

-tear, and it made her more severe with him.  "I

-don't b'leeve you care a *bit*."

-

-"I'm thorrier than you, tho there!" he retorted

-tearfully.

-

-"Why, you've hardly cwied at all!"

-

-"I have, I cried for hourth,—you're a thtory,

-Poppet."

-

-Bunty bade them hold their tongues.  He got up

-and reached "Hereward the Wake" off the side

-table to try to occupy his thoughts with; he was

-half through "Tom Floremall's School Days," and it

-lay open on the same table, but he felt it would have

-been unfeeling to read anything so light.

-

-The example, however, encouraged the children.

-Poppet put out her hand and caught the black

-kitten that had tapped her shoulder temptingly once

-or twice; she cuddled down on the hearthrug with

-it, after giving Peter a kiss of forgiveness.

-

-And Peter, utterly relieved, banged Marlborough

-and Lobengula together in such fierce single combat

-that it is wonderful neither of them was decapitated.

-

-The door handle turned and Nellie came in again,

-Nellie with a sheet-white face, heavy wet lashes, and

-swollen eyes.

-

-"I'm going up again," she said.

-

-"Tho 'm I," said Peter, springing to his feet.

-

-"An' me," Poppet cried.

-

-"Come on," said Bunty, picking up his hat.

-

-But Nellie shook her head.

-

-"You know your cold's bad again, Poppet; and,

-Peter dear, it's after your bedtime,—you *must* stay,"

-she said.  "Oh, Bunty, *do* stop with them."

-

-"I'm sure——" Bunty answered, with

-contradictory accent.

-

-Nellie caught a sob.

-

-"I shall *die* if I don't go this minute," she said

-passionately.

-

-She moved to the door, but Bunty had gone

-before her.

-

-"We *can't* leave them,—oh, *Bunty*, if only you'd

-stay!"  She held his coat sleeve and tried to force

-him back.

-

-"I want to hear as much as you do," he said, with

-all his old gruffness; "here, let go."

-

-"I tell you I shall go mad—*mad*—if I don't go!"

-the girl said wildly.  He saw the burning look in

-her eyes, the pain at her lips, and fell back suddenly,

-awkwardly.

-

-"All right, go on," he said.

-

-Then his just wakening brotherly-protection ideas

-occurred to him.

-

-"I say, you can't go," he said; "don't be a silly.

-You're only a girl, and it's dark,—let me go, Nell;

-I'll run all the way, and come straight back and

-tell you."

-

-"I *must* go," she repeated hoarsely.  "Make them

-go to bed; give Poppet her medicine; don't leave

-the matches near Peter."

-

-She slipped off his detaining hand, and the next

-minute was flying up the road through the cold

-white moonlight; a small dark figure with desperate

-eyes, and the wretchedest little heart in the world.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`AMARANTH OR ASPHODEL`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XXII.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   AMARANTH OR ASPHODEL?

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "Falling with my weight of cares

-   |  Upon the great world's altar stairs,

-   |  That slope through darkness up to God."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-All the way she never stopped once,—it was

-nearly a mile.  Her heart was in her throat,

-her breath coming in great choking pants; her knees

-were trembling as she stumbled up against the old

-Misrule gate, and clung to it blind and giddy for a

-moment.

-

-There was a step on the footpath—it stopped at

-the gate.  Some one came and peered at her and

-uttered a cry of surprise.

-

-"Why, Nellie!"

-

-"How—is—she?"

-

-She gasped the words, swayed, and recovered herself.

-

-"I'm just going in again," Alan said.  He slipped

-his arm round her and steadied her—"I told you

-not to come again, Nellie."

-

-.. _`"'OH, LET ME COME!' SHE IMPLORED."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-246.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "'OH, LET ME COME!' SHE IMPLORED."

-

-   "'OH, LET ME COME!' SHE IMPLORED."

-

-"I couldn't help it."

-

-He saw she couldn't, and did not scold her.

-

-"But what am I to do with you?" he said in

-dismay.

-

-He was anxious to get in, and now here was this

-poor, trembling, wild-eyed girl on his hands.

-

-"Oh, *let* me come!" she implored.  There was a

-sob rising in her throat.

-

-Then he did scold her a little.  Surely she was

-not going to trouble them on this terrible night?

-Meg was all courage, and quite calm, and so relieved

-to know the children were being well looked after,—she

-must not fail them all now at the crisis.

-

-The sob was strangled instantly.

-

-"I'll stay," she said,—"only—oh, *Alan*, come out

-and tell me soon!"

-

-He promised he would.  He drew her just within

-the gate and wrapped his overcoat round her, for

-she was jacketless, of course.

-

-"I trust you not to come past the hedge," he said.

-"See, stand here, and I can find you easily.  There

-now, dear, I *must* go."

-

-"A minute—is she in—real danger, Alan?  Is

-she going to die?"

-

-Oh the wide, beseeching eyes, full of moonlight

-and misery!

-

-He had never told a lie in his life,—never even

-charged one to his medical conscience; but his arm

-clasped her more strongly, more tenderly.

-

-"She is in danger," he said quietly.  "We are

-afraid she cannot live; but there is always hope,

-and the next hour will decide."

-

-She pushed him forward.

-

-"Go!" she said, "go!" and he kissed her

-forehead and went.

-

-She paced up and down by the low pittosporum

-hedge that divided the garden from the shrubbery

-next the fence, and she held her hands so tightly

-together, that she felt the pain as far as her elbows.

-

-It was full moon to-night.

-

-She remembered when it had been new,—a little,

-friendly, pretty crescent.  They had sat out on the

-verandah—four or five of them—watching it rise,

-and Alan had said it

-

-   |  "Was like a little feather

-   |  Fluttering far down the gulf."

-

-But Pip said he thought that man saw things

-straighter who found "the curled moon more like

-a bitten biscuit thrown out of a top-story window

-in a high wind."  Meg culled from "Endymion."  "The

-beautiful thing," she said,

-

-   |  "'Only stooped to tie

-   |  Her silver sandals, ere deliciously

-   |  She bowed into the heavens her timid head."

-   |

-

-And Bunty said, "What rot!"

-

-How happy and light-hearted they had been

-then!  Oh the strange and sad and oh the glad

-things that happen in this world between the

-crescent moon and the full!

-

-Such a white cold moon it was, so far away,

-so wondrously large and calm.  It suggested the

-immeasurable vastness of the universe, the

-infinitesimal smallness of herself.  Her heart sickened

-and died within her,—what use was it for her to

-pray and weep and beat her hands to such a

-far-off sky?  What madness to suppose the great high

-awful God beyond it would put forth His saving hand

-just because one small insignificant creature down

-on earth prayed to Him!  Such a faultful creature

-too; all her life through she could not remember one

-really good thing she had done, nothing but wrong-doings,

-littlenesses, and selfishness came to her mind.

-She looked away from the sky and scornful moon,

-she went to and fro with her eyes on the white

-ground.

-

-"Of *course* it's no use," she muttered, and held

-her hands together more tightly.

-

-A buggy stopped at the gate.  The old doctor

-got out; he told the coachman not to drive in, but

-to wait there.

-

-Two people passing up the road saw him, and

-crossed over.

-

-"How's the little girl?" they said.

-

-And "Very bad, poor baby," was his answer.

-"I ought to have been here before, but have been

-at a deathbed."

-

-"Whose?" they asked, in the lowered tones death

-claims.

-

-"Mrs. Fitzroy-Browne," he said, and hurried

-away up to the house.

-

-Nellie went back to the low hedge.  From there

-she could just see the palely-lighted window

-upstairs, and the large shadows on the blind.  She

-saw Meg move across to the corner where the bed

-stood, then the nurse's cap was outlined, Alan's head

-and shoulders, the doctor's.

-

-More and more icy grew the hand at her heart,

-whiter and whiter shone the moon, longer and

-longer every minute took to pass.  A sudden gust

-of wind blew over the pampas clumps full into her

-face, and the air was still again.  Perhaps with that

-very wind Essie had left them.

-

-She fell on her knees with wide, outstretched

-arms, and dropped her face on the low hedge.  The

-twigs and leaves scratched and pricked her, the

-ground made her knees ache, the night air was

-freezing her; but that was happiness.  The sky she

-dare not look at; but she was compelled to pray

-again, just to say God, God, God! and shiver and

-writhe and bite her lips.  There was no help for

-her on earth, and she must shriek to God even

-though He heard not.

-

-Suddenly the moonlight faded, the garden, the

-silent house, the pale lights.

-

-She was at the top of a hill, and at the foot was

-the reddest sunset the world had ever seen.  She

-was a little child again, flying from the bark hut

-and awful gathering shadows to the fence that

-skirted the road along which help would come.

-She was a child flinging herself on the ground, face

-downward, and crying, "Make her better, God!—God,

-make her better,—oh, *can't* you make her better!"

-

-But Judy had died.  He had not listened to her

-then, He would not listen now.

-

-She lifted a face of agony and looked at the sky

-again.  It had grown softer, a grey more tender,

-and deepened with blue; the moon hung lower, a

-yellow warmth had crept into it.

-

-Her tears gushed out again, and poured in hot

-streams down her face.

-

-"Dear God!" she whispered,—"oh, my dear,

-great God, I will be so good—only let her live,

-just let her live—such a little thing, God, such a

-little baby thing,—oh, you wouldn't take her from

-us, my great God—I will give you all my life, God!

-I will be good always, I will go to church always,

-and do everything you want me to, only don't take

-her away, God!  Please, Jesus, ask Him,—dear,

-sweet Jesus, don't let Him take her; oh, my sweet,

-kind Christ, let her stay here!"

-

-Her face fell into the hedge once more, and her

-lips babbled the wild, pitiful, bargaining prayer that

-only One could understand.

-

-It seemed hours that she knelt there, praying,

-sobbing, and shivering, before Alan came as he

-had promised.

-

-She heard his step coming down the path, and

-she struggled to her feet and forced herself forward.

-

-But he was going past her,—had he forgotten her?

-

-No, she knew; the child was dead, and he could

-not tell her.

-

-He had passed the hedge and was going on to the

-gate; she stumbled along after him, but he did not

-seem to hear her.

-

-"Alan!" she said, as he pulled the chain aside

-to go out.  Her voice sounded hollow and far away.

-

-He stopped, but did not look at her.

-

-"I—know," she said.

-

-He nodded.

-

-"Dead—dead—dead!" she said.

-

-But he spoke then.

-

-"Essie is better," he said; "she will live now."

-

-She caught at the palings; all the world was

-moving about her, the sky, the ground beneath

-her feet.

-

-"Better," she told herself—"better, better—can't

-you hear?"

-

-Then she noticed Alan's face.  It was deathly

-white, his lips were trembling and twitching, his

-eyes were wild.

-

-"What?" she whispered.

-

-"Meg has got it," he said with a great sob in his

-voice; and he brushed past her and went away.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`LITTLE FAITHFUL MEG`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XXIII.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   LITTLE FAITHFUL MEG.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "And shadow, and silence, and sadness

-   |  Were hanging over all."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Pip had a time of unhappiness almost as great

-as that Nellie had gone through.

-

-He was playing chess at the Courtneys to keep

-from thinking, when Alan came in with the news

-that Meg had the fever.

-

-All the colour dropped from his brown, handsome

-face; he started up in his place, the queen he had

-just captured still in his hand; he went out of the

-room and out of the house without a word.  Andrew

-caught him up when he had gone some hundred

-yards up the road.

-

-"Here's your hat, old fellow," he said, and Pip

-took it without thanks and walked on.

-

-Little faithful Meg, whose worst fault had been

-loving him too well to let him spoil his life!  And

-he had shaken her aside time after time when she

-had tried to end the quarrel—he had told her he

-would never forgive her!

-

-And now, perhaps, he would never have the chance.

-

-He pulled back the gate at Misrule with fingers

-as nerveless as the veriest girl; he turned to go up

-to the house the short way, by the pittosporum

-hedge.  There was a little dark heap of something on

-the wet grass in front of him; he touched it with his

-foot, and then bent down in horror.

-

-It was his second little sister, sobbing as if her

-heart would break; she was face downwards, her

-arms spread out, her whole body convulsed.

-

-So stunned and shaken with his grief had Alan

-been, he had utterly forgotten, when he left the

-poor child, that she was not at her proper place for

-the night; he had gone straight home to see if there

-had been a call for him, then off to a serious case of

-typhoid in Fivedock, for doctors cannot sit down

-and give themselves up to their grief, however great

-the cause.

-

-Pip tried to raise the girl, but she stiffened herself

-and resisted him; when she had flung herself down

-she had prayed passionately that she might die, and

-here was some one come to disturb her.

-

-But surely it could not be careless Pip who held

-her so tenderly, when at last he did manage to lift

-her,—Pip who stroked her hair, and rubbed his

-cheek against hers, and let her finish her bitter

-weeping on his shoulder.

-

-When he felt how cold and damp she was, he stirred.

-

-"You must come home, old girl," he said.

-

-"Here," she said—"I must stay here!  I

-shall nurse her, but she'll die—oh!  I know she'll

-die."

-

-Pip groaned: he knew it himself, he would not

-give himself the slightest hope; and the bitterness

-was as of death itself.

-

-But he saw Nellie was totally unfit to go into an

-infected house that night.

-

-"To-morrow," he said; "come down to the

-cottage now; there's the nurse there, and the

-servants; you'll be ill yourself next."

-

-"I want to be—oh, why *can't* I die?" she wailed.

-"It's all me, every bit of this, and God won't let me

-die."

-

-Oh the young miserable face, so white and wet

-in the moonlight!  A great lump came into Pip's

-throat, and in his heart a sudden knowledge of the

-dearness of his sisters.

-

-"Oh, you poor little thing!" he said.

-

-He put her on the old seat under the mulberry

-tree near, and went away.

-

-When he came back he was leading one of the

-horses by the bridle over the grass.

-

-"What are you going to do?" she asked

-miserably.

-

-And "Ride you home," was his answer.

-

-.. _`"HE LED THE HORSE OUT OF THE GATE, AND CARRIED HER TO IT."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-257.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "HE LED THE HORSE OUT OF THE GATE, AND CARRIED HER TO IT."

-

-   "HE LED THE HORSE OUT OF THE GATE, AND CARRIED HER TO IT."

-

-He led the horse out of the gate, carried her to

-it, and put her just on the saddle; then he got up

-himself behind, and held her with one hand and

-the reins with the other.

-

-That is how they reached the cottage.

-

-The children were in bed, and poor Bunty, weary

-of waiting, had fallen asleep sitting bolt upright in

-a chair.

-

-Pip woke him, gently enough.

-

-"Make up the fire," he said.

-

-The boy fell to the task with all his heart, so

-dreadful was his sister's face.  The clatter woke

-Poppet; she slipped out of bed and came in to them

-in her little nightgown, her eyes heavy with sleep

-and the struggle between forgetfulness and remembrance.

-

-"Baby!" she said.  Then her eyes flew open,

-and the colour died out of her little flushed cheeks.

-What made Nellie look so terrible?

-

-"Better, much better—getting well," was Pip's

-hasty answer.  He did not want another ill on his

-hands.

-

-The child gasped with relief.

-

-"Go and get something on," said Pip; "and

-bring Nell a big shawl or rug, and put something

-on your feet."

-

-She came back with a great blanket for Nellie—she

-had pinned her little flannel petticoat round

-her own shoulders, and stuck her feet into

-goloshes.

-

-Bunty made coffee—a great jugful.  The grounds

-were floating on the top, certainly, but it was very

-hot.  Pip made the girl drink two full cups and

-eat a big piece of bread and butter—he heard she

-had had neither dinner nor tea.

-

-Then she crept close to him again.  What a dear

-big brother he was, and how much less terrible

-things looked here in the firelight, with his arm

-round her, than when she lay prone on the wet

-grass under the white, far moon.

-

-They dare not tell Poppet to-night, her eyes were

-far too bright, her cheeks too flushed.  So Bunty,

-at a whisper from Nell, picked her up and carried

-her off to bed again.

-

-"I'll stop with you till you go to sleep," he said,

-feeling her chest heave.

-

-"I b'leeve they're 'ceiving me," said the poor little

-child.  "I heard Nell whisper to you!  Oh, Bunty,

-*tell* me!—oh, Baby, Baby!"

-

-He reassured her eagerly.  The crisis was quite

-past; the doctor said she could not *help* getting

-better now.  Why, they would be playing with her

-again now in no time!

-

-She cried a little from the relief, and then dropped

-off to sleep, holding tightly to his gentle, roughened

-hand.

-

-In the sitting-room Pip was comforting Nellie as

-tenderly and pitifully as if he had been a woman

-and she a poor, little, hurt child.  They had never

-known each other before—these two—and both

-were touched and surprised at the beauty of the

-new knowledge.

-

-He agreed that she must go to Misrule and help

-to nurse, but thought they would wire up to

-Yarrahappini and ask Mrs. Hassal to come down to the

-cottage instead of getting any one strange.  Nellie

-thought it an excellent suggestion, and made him

-draft a telegram immediately, so that it might be

-sent first thing in the morning.

-

-When he thought she was calm again, and fit to

-be left he saw her into her own bedroom, and made

-her promise to go direct to bed and try her best to

-sleep, since so much depended on her now.

-

-Such a poor, scratched, swollen face it was lifted

-to him for a good-night kiss, so different from the

-brilliant, beautiful, rebellious one that had defied

-him on the night of that trouble-causing dinner

-party.

-

-He took the front door key with him, and went

-out, riding slowly back to Misrule, though he had

-no business there, as he knew.  He put his father's

-horse back into the stable, and learnt from the man,

-who had just gone to bed, that Martha was with

-Essie and the nurse with Meg.

-

-Then he went round into the garden, and to the

-side of the house where Meg's bedroom was.

-

-There was a white, flat paling fence separating

-that part of the garden from the paddocks; he sat

-down on it and watched the light on her white blind

-with a despairing expression in his eyes.

-

-He would have given all the world for a kiss from

-her, a smile of forgiveness; his love for Mabelle lay,

-a cold thing, almost dead, in his breast; he felt he

-could never breathe on it and warm it to life again.

-

-To him, as to Nellie, this great white awful night

-brought back to memory the red red sunset and

-purple black shadows of the evening Judy had died.

-Like Nellie, he too fell on his knees, and prayed as he

-had only prayed that one other time in his life.  And,

-like Nellie too, he prayed despairingly and

-without faith because that other prayer had not been

-answered.  It was midnight when he had ridden

-back; he stopped there in the white, hushed garden

-till the moon began to fade out of the sky and a

-pale flush of rose crept up from the river.  He was

-stiff and cold from his long watch; on the ill-kept

-strip of grass beneath the lighted window he had

-worn a path with his pacings, and his heart was

-heavier than ever.

-

-When five o'clock came he still lingered; he was

-watching for the first opening door.  To wait for

-her smile and forgiveness till she was better—to

-wait—to miss it for ever, perhaps—was more than

-he could bear to contemplate.  He wrote her a little

-eager loving note on the back of an envelope from

-his pocket; his sister, his dear, sweet old Meg,

-would she ever forgive him?

-

-He thought he would give it to Martha the minute

-there was a stir of life within the house, and he

-went softly round the verandah to the side door;

-it was always opened first, he knew.  He stood there

-more than half an hour, listening for a footstep on

-the stairs, for the creak of a door or the sound of a

-voice.

-

-On the weather-worn wall near there were a

-number of marks and names and dates; it was the

-measuring wall of the family.  It carried his thoughts

-back a long, long time.  It was nearly seven long

-years since the first marks were made: the little one,

-only a couple of feet off the ground, was marked

-"The General,"—Pip remembered Esther had to

-hold him there, for it was before he could walk.

-Then all the small steps above it—Baby, and Bunty,

-and Nell—such a little Nell; Judy, with a crossing

-out at her name and a mark lower down—he

-remembered finding out after he had measured her

-first, that she had tacked a bit of wood on to each

-heel of her shoes; then himself, and Meg topping

-them all.

-

-The last marks were recent; they had measured

-merrily just before Esther went away, to see if

-any one could possibly grow in such a short time.

-He himself was at the top now, ten inches past Meg,

-and Nellie and Bunty were nearly up to Meg.  How

-nearly the new little mark that meant Essie had

-never risen any higher!  And Judy, dear, dear

-little Judy, so quick growing, so eager-eyed—her

-mark was no longer among them.

-

-It forced itself upon Pip that perhaps never again

-would he put the flat book on Meg's bright head

-and crush down, ere he measured her, the fluffy hair

-that gave her an unlawful inch.

-

-He turned on his heel from the wall; the mark

-seemed on his heart.

-

-Some one opened a verandah door some distance

-away and stepped out into the garden.  It was the

-nurse, heavy-eyed, pale-cheeked, come out for a

-breath of the quickening morning.  She did not see

-the unhappy boy standing there, but went down the

-path towards the sun-touched river, and left the door

-open behind her.

-

-Pip slipped in, on uncontrollable impulse.  He

-stole through the quiet hall and up the staircase;

-he went softly down the upstairs passage—and

-Meg's door was open.

-

-She was quite alone, lying among the pillows,

-with her bright hair loose, her cheeks a little flushed,

-but her eyes open and quite natural.  The next

-second he was in the room kneeling by the bedside,

-and kissing the little hot hand on the counterpane.

-

-"Just say you forgive me, Meg darling—darling!"

-he implored, the tears rolling down his cheeks.

-

-She sat up in distress.

-

-"Oh, go away!" she cried.  "Oh, Pip, how mad

-of you—dear Pip, you'll catch it!"

-

-But he would not loose her hand.

-

-"Will you?" he said.

-

-She moved to put her arm round his neck, then

-remembered and shrank back.

-

-"Why, there is nothing," she said; "it was you

-to forgive me—if you do I am more than glad;

-now do go, old fellow."

-

-"Lie down," he said, standing up again; it had

-only just struck him he might be doing her harm.

-

-"There, lie so,—keep still, for heaven's sake.  I

-only came to tell you you're the best sister on earth,

-and I've been a brute to you.  Meg, I'll promise you

-faithfully never to think of Mabelle again—oh, good

-God!  I haven't made you worse, have I?"  For

-Meg put her hand up to her head with a sudden

-movement.

-

-"Not an atom," she said, "the cloth was wetting

-my neck, that's all.—you've made me better indeed

-with that promise; now go, Pip dearest, this minute,

-and change everything—promise me; think of the

-children; get a suit out of your room and have

-a bath."

-

-The nurse's step was on the stairs; he kissed her

-hand again and fled.

-

-Afterwards he felt he had done a selfish thing,

-and made himself miserable over it.  Perhaps he

-had excited and worried her, perhaps it would make

-her worse; and suppose he gave the infection to

-Peter or Poppet!

-

-He took his evening clothes, they were the only

-ones left in his room, and he went down to the river

-with a slow and heavy step.

-

-Then he undressed and swam about for nearly

-twenty minutes, so determined was he not to carry

-home a microbe.  He even struck out into the

-middle, and braved any sharks that might be yet

-unbreakfasted.  Then he made his toilet again,

-swallow-tail and all, carefully washed the clothes he

-had taken off, and laid them on the grass to dry.

-

-A man he knew, coming down to the water with

-his towels over his shoulder, met him on the way

-to the cottage and stared amazedly.

-

-"You're fairly late home, old chap," he said;

-"where in the world have you been?"

-

-Pip only shook his head and pushed on.  He was

-far too unhappy to stay and explain.

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`"IN THE MIDNIGHT, IN THE SILENCE OF THE SLEEP-TIME"`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XXIV.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   "IN THE MIDNIGHT, IN THE SILENCE OF THE SLEEP TIME."

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "Have I not trodden a weary road

-   |      Saint, my Saint?

-   |  And where, at last, shall be my abode,

-   |      Oh, my Saint?"

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-But Meg only had it very lightly, or those two

-poor human hearts could not have borne their

-misery.  She was not half so ill as Essie had been;

-she was not delirious at all, and she never went

-near to the great wide sea whose cold waves had

-washed up to the little baby feet.

-

-When she woke after a troubled sleep in the

-afternoon, there was Nellie standing by the bedside

-looking at her, with all her heart in her eyes.

-

-"What about the children?" she said with

-instant anxiety.  "You oughtn't to be here."

-

-But Nell stooped and kissed her.

-

-"It's just where I ought to be," she said, "and

-Esther's mother will be here this evening, to look

-after the children,—don't worry."

-

-Meg turned over restfully; how good it was

-to feel there would be a sister near always

-instead of the strange hands and face of a nurse!

-What a relief, now the strain was over, to be able

-to give up and be taken care of instead of taking

-care!

-

-In the morning, when she woke, her first question

-again, after hearing Essie was improving fast, was

-what about the children?

-

-Mrs. Hassal had come, Nell said; Mr. Gillet had

-brought her, and they were both at the cottage.

-Mr. Gillet was much distressed to hear she was ill,

-and had sent kindest regards and hopes for a speedy

-recovery.

-

-For a moment the long-unheard name brought

-no connection with it to Meg; then she saw the

-burnt grass paddocks, the dingy sheep, the

-homestead and clustering cottages of Yarrahappini.

-

-She called to mind his little room as she had seen

-it when she went for the keys of the storeroom.

-She was surprised to still remember, after all these

-years, her astonishment at finding the keeper of

-the stores with the room of a gentleman.

-

-She could remember the rows of books, the

-medallion of Shelley, the pictures, the little

-breakfast table—even the silver chased vase with the

-passion flowers in it.

-

-She wondered if he had kept the blue ribbon she

-had given him; even now her cheeks coloured above

-their fever to think how intolerant she had been in

-those days.  But perhaps she was just as bad now,

-or had other faults still worse; she tossed unhappily

-and thought upon all the mistakes she was for ever

-making.  Then Nellie's cool fingers touched her

-forehead and replaced a wet, lavender-sweet handkerchief,

-and she dropped off into an uneasy slumber.

-

-She thought they were binding her head round

-and round with ribbon, pale blue with creases in it;

-it held her down to the bed so that she could not

-move; and there in the dancing river little Essie was

-struggling, the grey look of death on her small

-sweet face.

-

-Then that torture shifted, and it was Pip who was

-struggling, and he could not put out his arms to

-swim because he had a monstrous gold wedding-ring

-binding them to his body.  And Peter was at the

-top of the forbidden tree, and Poppet shrieking to

-him to come down.  And Bunty was in the hospital

-with scarlet fever, and they could not give him

-medicine because he would not tell his name.

-

-For several days troubles of this kind lasted, with

-short unrefreshing waking intervals when her mouth

-was parched, her throat swollen, and her head throbbing.

-

-On the sixth morning she opened her eyes about

-eleven o'clock.  Nellie was mixing lemon drink at a

-small table, and Alan was standing by the bedside,

-Alan with a face grown quite haggard, and a look in

-his eyes that had never quite left them since she fell

-ill.

-

-"Am I getting better or worse?" she said, for his

-look made her suddenly fearful for herself.

-

-But he brightened instantly, for, in truth, the

-anxiety was almost over, only he could not shake

-it off at once.

-

-"Much better," he said.  "Do you know you have

-been asleep since nine last night?"

-

-"How many hours is that?" she asked, with

-smiling languor; "my brain's asleep yet, I can't

-count."  But neither could he.  His lip trembled

-suddenly, and he put his face down on hers.

-

-She slipped her thin hands round his neck.

-

-"Poor old fellow!" she said, "dear old fellow!

-I'm going to get better immediately now."

-

-"Try to go to sleep again," he whispered, putting

-a kiss on each eyelid to keep them shut.  "Please,

-my little, pale daisy."

-

-The eyelashes lay quite still, but the lips smiled up

-to him.  Then, before she knew it, she was asleep

-again, her breathing regular, her skin cool.  And

-when she woke she was far on the road to recovery.

-But down in the cottage, while Essie and Meg were

-struggling slowly up the beautiful tiring hill of

-convalescence, a terrible tragedy had happened.

-

-In the middle of one night, Poppet, sleeping in a

-little made-up bed in the room with Mrs. Hassal, woke

-up hot and choking.  One side of the room was in

-a sheet of fire; the curled, leaping tongues of flame

-came nearer every instant.

-

-She sprang out of bed shrieking wildly, and pulled

-and shook poor little Mrs. Hassal, who, half

-suffocated with the smoke, lay motionless.

-

-Pip slept at the Courtneys now, since the cottage

-was so taxed for room, Bunty and Peter across the

-passage, and Mr. Gillet had a camp bed in the sitting-room.

-No one had wakened till the little girl's wild

-shrieks rang through the house; the smoke had

-stupefied them all.

-

-Then there was a terrible scene of confusion.  The

-door of the bedroom was in a blaze—all the wall

-adjacent; the flames were licking at the long French

-window, and the curtains already burning.

-

-Mr. Gillet went back one second for his thick coat,

-which he had not put on at first; then, shielding his

-face with his arm, he sprang into the room through

-the window, calling to Bunty to stand outside.

-

-.. _`"He sprang through the flames, the child close in his arms."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-271.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "He sprang through the flames, the child close in his arms."  The Family at Misrule. Page 271.

-

-   "He sprang through the flames, the child close in his arms."  The Family at Misrule. Page 271.

-

-Poppet, mad with terror, was still pulling at

-Mrs. Hassal, and the mosquito nets of the bed had just

-caught.

-

-He pushed the child aside, and bade her go into

-the one safe corner.  Then he enveloped Mrs. Hassal

-in the blanket, carried her across the room,

-and hastily put her through the window to

-Bunty.

-

-Then he went back for the little girl,—Meg's little

-sister.

-

-He took off his coat to wrap her in, as the other

-bedclothes had caught, but as he did so Bunty

-threw back the big blanket, and he used it instead.

-

-The flames at the window were growing worse,

-but he sprang through them, the child close in his

-arms.  When they took the blanket off her not a

-hair of her head was hurt.

-

-One breathless second they looked at the burning

-room together from the safe vantage ground of the

-grass plot at the side.

-

-Then Mr. Gillet started forward again.

-

-"I've left my coat," he said.

-

-Mrs. Hassal held his arm.  "As if that matters,"

-she answered indignantly.

-

-"But there's something I rather prize in it," he

-said; "there's no danger,—see, I'll have the blanket

-this time."

-

-He flung it round his head and shoulders, and

-went through the window again.

-

-"Catch!" he cried, and threw the rough serge

-coat far out to them.

-

-.. _`"THE BOY SEIZED HIM BY THE SHOULDERS AND DRAGGED HIM OUT THROUGH THE BLAZING GAP."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-272.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "THE BOY SEIZED HIM BY THE SHOULDERS AND DRAGGED HIM OUT THROUGH THE BLAZING GAP."

-

-   "THE BOY SEIZED HIM BY THE SHOULDERS AND DRAGGED HIM OUT THROUGH THE BLAZING GAP."

-

-They saw him in the burning window putting his

-arms up to dive out.  But even as he did so there

-was a crash and fall—a great burning rafter had

-dropped from the ceiling.

-

-Bunty was the hero now.  He put his coat over

-his head and dashed into the room.

-

-Mr. Gillet had fallen just inside, the blanket still

-around him.

-

-With incredible strength and courage the boy

-seized him by the shoulders, dragged him out

-through the blazing gap and into safety, amid the

-shouts of the awakened neighbours, who had come

-too late to be of use.

-

-But the man was dead.

-

-The rafter had struck his temple, and he had no

-more days of life to ruin, no more with which to

-redeem past ruin.

-

-They did not tell Meg until long after, not until

-Blue Mountain air had blown the last of the fever

-away, and all the seven were together for the last

-week before coming home.

-

-Then they gave her the something he had "rather

-prized."

-

-She sobbed and went away from them all when

-she had opened the little parcel and seen its

-pitifulness.

-

-It was nothing but the length of ribbon, the blue

-faded, and still creased as it had tied her hair.

-

-On the paper wrapping it he had written, "My

-soft-eyed girl St. Cecily."

-

-

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. _`HERE ENDETH`:

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   CHAPTER XXV.

-

-

-.. class:: center medium bold

-

-   HERE ENDETH.

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-..

-

-   |  "God's in His heaven,

-   |  All's right with the world."

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-Such a day!  The spring of the year in the

-sky, and on the river, and on the land.

-September at its happiest, fresh and young, and

-gladdening as a maiden stepping with shining eyes

-and light feet into a world that she knows she is

-going to brighten.

-

-Blue in the sky, blue deeper and sun-flecked in

-the river, a glory of roses in the garden, a yellow

-splendour of wattles in the bush.

-

-Tea was spread on the lawn, not under a tree, but

-out in the sunshine that no one could get enough of.

-Even the cakes had a light-hearted look; and as for

-the shining kettle on the lamp, it was absolutely

-bubbling with good spirits.  They were all there,—the

-seven and Mrs. Hassal, all mentally on tiptoe,

-physically in comfortable attitudes, sitting or lying

-round the cloth.

-

-The Captain and Esther were expected every minute.

-

-Peter wanted to begin on the little cakes that had

-such a fascinating bit of peel on the top of each.

-

-"Leth go halveth in one, Nell," he said; "we

-ought to tathte them firtht,—prapth you forgot the

-thugar."

-

-But Nellie assured him they were sweetness itself,

-and removed the plate into the middle of the cloth,

-where they could not lead his fingers into temptation.

-

-She consoled him with two lumps of sugar, and he

-gave Poppet one and bet her he could suck his for

-a longer time than she could without it breaking.

-

-Alan was hammering at a tipsy-looking erection

-of posts halfway down the drive, that said

-"Welcome" in pink and white roses, and threatened to

-fall and engulf any one passing underneath.  Bunty

-had made it, Alan was only trying to ensure the

-safety of Esther's head.

-

-Near the door was another arch; it was very low—both

-the Captain and Esther would have to go under

-it doubled up: it was done in ferns and red geraniums

-and blue flag lilies and yellow "bunny rabbits,"

-and it said "Wellcome."

-

-This was the architecture of Peter and Poppet; the

-choice of flowers and handing up had been Essie's

-work.

-

-The kettle boiled over.  Meg took the opinions of

-the company as to whether she should make the tea

-or wait.  The travellers were coming overland from

-Brisbane, and the man had already gone to the station

-with the dogcart.  It always made the Captain

-irritable to be met by half his family on a station,

-so they were all assembled at home instead.  Nellie

-counselled waiting, tea brewed too long was "horrid."

-

-Pip said no one would know what they were

-drinking, so it did not matter.

-

-Swift wheels on the road, a shriek from Peter and

-Poppet, and the question was decided.  Meg filled up

-the teapot and cosied it, then snatched Essie up in

-her arms and went down the path.  Oh, thank God,

-thank God she had her to take!

-

-Esther leapt out before the horse fairly stopped,

-just as impetuously young as ever.  She devoured

-Essie, lifted big Peter right up in her arms, laughed

-and cried over the others.

-

-No one said anything the pen could catch for

-the next ten minutes; every one spoke at once and

-laughed at once; every one asked questions and no

-one waited for answers.

-

-It was the Captain of course who first made a

-whole speech.  "We've been travelling for

-hours,—haven't you any tea for Esther, Meg?"

-

-Then they all trooped up under the arches to the

-white cloth, flower-strewn, and Flibbertigibbet had

-improved the shining time by drinking the milk.

-

-.. _`"THE WHOLE SIX RUSHED TO PICK HER UP."`:

-

-.. figure:: images/img-277.jpg

-   :figclass: white-space-pre-line

-   :align: center

-   :alt: "THE WHOLE SIX RUSHED TO PICK HER UP."

-

-   "THE WHOLE SIX RUSHED TO PICK HER UP."

-

-Martha came down with more, her very forehead

-sharing in the great smile that widened all her

-features.

-

-She shook the Captain's hand and Esther's; then

-small Essie ran before her, and she pulled up her

-apron to catch a sudden sob and went away.

-

-Little Mrs. Hassal picked up the child,—just her

-own little girl Esther over again.  She gave her a

-lump of sugar and squeezed her tenderly for nothing

-in particular.  Then Nellie crept round and took her

-to find the prettiest cake of all, and Pip rode her

-round and round on his shoulders and kissed her

-again and again when she happened to stand near him.

-

-And once, when running back from the house with

-her grand new doll for inspection, her eager little

-feet tripped and she fell on the path, the whole six

-started up and rushed to pick her up.  Esther told

-herself she had left her darling in loving enough

-hands, she need not have worried so.

-

-"But she seems a little thinner to me, Meg," she

-said; "I don't know if it is my fancy."

-

-Then they all grew silent, and each one waited for

-the other to tell.

-

-It was Nellie who spoke at last, and told the story,

-and Esther's tears fell and she clasped her baby

-close to her breast and thanked God who had been

-so good to her.  And the Captain put out his hand

-and drew his eldest daughter closer to him, and said

-he did not think Alan could have her now.

-

-It is only four o'clock, and the spring glad

-sunshine is still over everything; the feast is at its

-height, and all faces untroubled again.  Let us leave

-them here.

-

-Esther is leaning against her husband, her bright

-face full of content and happiness; once or twice her

-eyes have gone skywards, and the light in them has

-deepened.  Essie is in her arms, saucy and dimpled:

-she knows she is the undisputed queen of that

-gathering, and is taking advantage of her power by

-giving all manner of sweet little commands.

-

-Peter is still engaged on the cakes; he is only

-eating the tops of them where the peel nestles, but

-no one has noticed.  He has just informed Esther

-of the progress he has made in her absence.

-

-"I tharcely drop any blotht now," he said; "I've

-gone into theven times, I'm learning peninthulath,

-and I've thtopped lithping."

-

-As no one disputes any of his statements, and as

-no one smiles openly, he is quite happy in his

-present occupation.  Poppet seems to have grown;

-she is thinner than ever,—arms and legs, as Bunty

-says, and nothing else worth mentioning.  He forgets

-the heart; it is just the same dear loving tender little

-one, with room for all the world, and one warm,

-special corner for himself.

-

-Bunty's collar this afternoon is a sign of the times;

-it is perfectly white and almost unrumpled; the whole

-of it is visible, and his jacket does not fit

-extraordinarily badly.  His mouth is firm, but hardly

-strikes one as obstinate now, and the brooding light

-that used to be in his eyes shows very seldom.

-Pip says if some day the boy becomes a great hero

-it will not surprise any one in the family at all,

-despite those early days he is so bitterly ashamed of.

-

-This is quite a different Nellie from the one who

-went over this same lawn in her first long dress.

-More beautiful if possible: the shining hair and

-dewy, long-lashed eyes, the clear colouring, and slim,

-straight figure are just the same, but there is a

-deeper look in the young eyes, a sweeter, graver

-expression about the young mouth.  She will be

-that gladdening thing, an exceedingly beautiful

-woman; she will be more, a good woman and a noble.

-

-Meg,—well, Meg is Meg.

-

-A little thin and pale-looking from the fever, a

-little quieter, and, if possible, even more sweet, more

-womanly and lovable than ever.  Alan is at one

-side of her, her family at the other; so far they

-possess her equally, and perhaps the standing

-between is the happiest time of her life.

-

-Pip is stretched on the ground, six feet of splendid

-young manhood; his laugh is good to hear, his

-cheeks have the tint of health, he measures a

-surprising number of inches round the chest.  Surely

-it is reasonable to suppose his blighted affections

-have not done him irreparable mischief!  Peter lets

-a light in on the subject.  He has finished the

-cakes, and is at liberty again to pour out all the

-events of note that have happened during Esther's

-absence.

-

-He has informed her that "the catht had four

-kittenth, that his betht thuith grown too thmall for

-his legth, that the butcher thent the chopth and

-thteak too late for breakfatht, and Meg got another

-one named Thmitherth, and that a thtorm of hail

-had thmathed the thtudy window."

-

-Then his eye fell upon his eldest brother, and

-his young catholic mind found an item of news

-concerning him.

-

-"An' Mith Joneth ith married to the man at the

-thauthpan thop; me and Poppet peeped in at the

-church, and the looked thplendid.  And Pip wath awful

-mad, but he'th gone on Mith Thybil Moore now."

-

-And as Miss Sybil Moore was the exceedingly

-pretty daughter of new delightful neighbours, and

-as Mr. Philip coloured somewhat warmly and

-inverted the young scamp in great haste, there seemed

-a probability of pleasant truth in the statement.

-Especially as Meg smiled contentedly.

-

-Esther spoke of Indian scarfs and shawls and

-gauzes the boxes held.

-

-"They will do beautifully for charades and

-theatricals," she said.

-

-"Or playing at being grown up," said Poppet.

-

-The Captain leaned back against a tree.  "There

-is not much playing about it," he said.  "I must be

-getting an old man; how fast you are all growing

-up."

-

-"What's dwowing up?" asked Essie.

-

-"I used to think it was just long dresses and

-done-up hair," sighed Nellie; "or a stick and a

-moustache."

-

-"And not doing as you're told," supplemented

-Poppet.

-

-"An' eating thingth and not getting thick."  It

-was Peter's amendment.

-

-Meg only smiled.

-

-But there was a faint curve of sadness as well

-as the smile on her young lips—and one was for

-sweet, buried childhood, and one for the broadening

-days.

-

-.. vspace:: 3

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   THE END

-

-.. vspace:: 3

-

-.. class:: center small

-

-   UNWIN BROTHERS, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. class:: center white-space-pre-line

-

-   \*      \*      \*      \*      \*      \*      \*      \*

-

-.. vspace:: 4

-

-.. class:: center x-large bold

-

-   Works by Ethel Turner

-

-.. class:: center medium

-

-   (MRS. H. E. CURLEWIS).

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   The Story of a Baby.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   Illustrated by FRANCES EWAN and others.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Seven Little Australians.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   With Twenty-six Illustrations by A. J. JOHNSON.

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   The Family at Misrule.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   A Sequel to the above.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   With Twenty-nine Illustrations by A. J. JOHNSON.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Three Little Maids.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   Illustrated by A. J. JOHNSON.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   The Camp at Wandinong.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   Illustrated by FRANCES EWAN and others.

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Miss Bobbie.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   Illustrated by HAROLD COPPING.

-

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   The Little Larrikin.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   Illustrated by A. J. JOHNSON.

-

-.. vspace:: 3

-

-.. class:: center white-space-pre-line

-

-   \*      \*      \*      \*      \*

-

-.. vspace:: 3

-

-.. class:: center x-large bold

-

-   The "Tip-Cat" Series

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   (BY THE AUTHOR OF 'LADDIE')

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Tip-Cat.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By the Author of 'Laddie.'

-

-A very pathetic story of hardships and sacrifice, telling how the

-tenderness and generosity of one may make life smooth and happy for

-others.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Dear.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By the Author of 'Laddie.'

-

-The love-story of the daughter of a simple-hearted country clergyman.

-The way she is deprived of her lover, and duped into marrying

-the squire's son, and the final attainment of her heart's desire, are told

-with great charm and pathos.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Pen.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By the Author of 'Laddie.'

-

-A story of the neglect of two motherless children.  The sketches of

-character and touching love passages are exceedingly well told.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   My Honey.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By the Author of 'Laddie.'

-

-"It is always a pleasure to meet with a book by the authoress of

-'Tip-Cat.'  The story is full of charming character

-drawing."—*Graphic*.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Rob.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By the Author of 'Laddie.'

-

-"Interestingly written, and will be read with equal pleasure by

-members of either sex."—*Westminster Gazette*.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Lil.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By the Author of 'Laddie.'

-

-"A volume of interesting reading that should attract all young

-people."—*Sunday School Recorder*.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Our Little Ann.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By the Author of 'Laddie.'

-

-The story of a girl who from the time she left the country for town

-led a chequered life.  The various episodes are cleverly connected, and

-the descriptive portions well told.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Laddie, etc.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By the Author of 'Tip-Cat.'

-

-"It is possible that 'kiddie' may become a classic."—*Chambers'

-Journal*.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   The Captain of Five.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By MARY H. DEBENHAM.

-

-"Every human being over seven and under seventy will agree in

-pronouncing it delightful."—*Daily Chronicle*.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   Hollyberry Janet.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By MAGGIE SYMINGTON ("Aunt Maggie").

-

-"An excellent addition to a charming series."—*Academy*.

-

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center large bold

-

-   The Pattypats.

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   By H. ESCOTT-INMAN.

-

-"One of the most delightfully droll story-books that it is possible

-to conceive of.  Brimful of quaint and wonderful notions, and teeming

-with mirth and 'go.'"—*The Teachers' Aid*.

-

-.. vspace:: 3

-

-.. class:: center white-space-pre-line

-

-   \*      \*      \*      \*      \*

-

-.. vspace:: 3

-

-.. class:: center x-large bold

-

-   The Youths' Library.

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-\1 From Log Cabin to White House,  By W. M. Thayer

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\2 Robinson Crusoe, By Daniel Defoe

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\3 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\4 Grimm's Fairy Stories

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\5 Grimm's Fairy Tales

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\6 Swiss Family Robinson

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\7 Andersen's Popular Tales

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\8 Andersen's Stories

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\9 Boys' Own Sea Stories

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\10 Two Years before the Mast, By R. H. Dana

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\11 Scottish Chiefs, By Jane Porter

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\12 Ivanhoe, By Sir Walter Scott

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\13 Romance of Navigation, By Henry Frith

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\14 Prisoners of the Sea, By F. M. Kingsley

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\15 Westward Ho!, By Charles Kingsley

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\16 Arabian Nights Entertainments

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\17 Black Man's Ghost, By J. C. Hutcheson

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\18 Frank Allreddy's Fortune, By Franklin Fox

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\20 Two Years Ago, By Charles Kingsley

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\21 The Last of the Barons, By Bulwer Lytton

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\22 Harold, By Bulwer Lytton

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\23 The Holy War, By John Bunyan

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\24 The Heroes, By Charles Kingsley

-

-.. vspace:: 1

-

-\25 The Beachcombers, By Gilbert Bishop

-

-.. vspace:: 2

-

-.. class:: center

-

-   WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED.

-

-.. vspace:: 6

-

-.. pgfooter::

diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-008.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-008.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 0aa89a3..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-008.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-015.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-015.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 9b3ca5d..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-015.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-025.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-025.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 89edac5..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-025.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-035.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-035.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 02e1bb7..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-035.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-049.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-049.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 376de03..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-049.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-059.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-059.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 5cb0508..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-059.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-073.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-073.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 6effaf6..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-073.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-081.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-081.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index c97d6e0..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-081.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-093.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-093.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 8797596..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-093.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-105.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-105.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 6968e24..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-105.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-119.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-119.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 7934c2a..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-119.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-135.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-135.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index e43bda3..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-135.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-141.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-141.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 9339758..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-141.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-153.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-153.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index a361034..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-153.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-167.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-167.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 42f0805..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-167.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-182.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-182.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 4f59dee..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-182.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-192.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-192.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 9a293c2..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-192.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-195.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-195.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 4668d33..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-195.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-215.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-215.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 64bc886..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-215.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-225.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-225.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 3c76ac7..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-225.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-233.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-233.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index c5b3e7c..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-233.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-241.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-241.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index a84c106..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-241.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-246.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-246.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 697492f..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-246.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-257.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-257.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 4b3c4af..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-257.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-271.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-271.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 207ae29..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-271.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-272.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-272.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 2c89514..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-272.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-277.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-277.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 414dce7..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-277.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/48304-rst/images/img-cover.jpg b/48304-rst/images/img-cover.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 327871f..0000000
--- a/48304-rst/images/img-cover.jpg
+++ /dev/null