*CHAPTER VI.*
*LEAVING MEADENHAM.*
"Switzerland! O Auntie, that is such a long way off! You don't meanreally that you are going all that way from me," and Lena as she spokethese words burst into tears, and clung tightly to her Aunt, as if toprevent her leaving her.
"I am not going away to-day, dear," said Miss Somerville, trying tospeak cheerfully and brightly as she fondly stroked the little head thatwas buried on her shoulder. "And, my child," she went on more gravely,"this is no new thought to you; we both knew this parting must come."
"But not so soon, and such a long way."
"You have Papa and Mama and your sisters, and will be so happy withthem, and will often write to me. And I shall hope for such goodaccounts of my pet."
"You won't get them," said Lena in a most doleful tone; "I shan't beable to be good without you, I know I shan't."
"Lena, dear, that is not a right way to speak. I shall think that I havetaught you what is wrong if you say such things."
"No, no, I did not mean that; but why can't you always live with us?What do you want to go to that horrid place for?"
"It is not at all a horrid place, but a very nice one. Why I am goingis this"----
Lena lifted her head to listen with such an injured expression that herAunt laughed. "I believe you are glad to go!" (indignantly).
"Yes, dear, I am glad, though very very sorry to leave you. I am gladbecause Miss Howard has to go, and wants a companion; and you know,dear, it is always pleasant to be able to do anything for your friends."
"But I want you too."
"Not now. You have wanted me, but now you have Mama and Papa; and,Lena, you love them both very dearly, I know."
"Yes, but I want you too."
"We none of us can have all we want in this world. Ask God, my littleone, to make you grateful and thankful for all the blessings He has soliberally bestowed on you, instead of murmuring for what you cannothave."
Before Lena had time to reply, Mrs. Graham opened the door, asking, asshe did so, if she might come in.
"O Mama, why does Auntie want to go away from us? Mayn't she stay withus?"
"Of course she may, dear; but Aunt Mary thinks Miss Howard requires her.We want her, and she requires her. Now don't you see why Auntie hasdecided on going abroad?"
"Yes, because she thinks it right;" adding, "but couldn't Miss Howardcome and live with her here?"
"Why do you wish that, Lena?"
"Because it's so much nearer, and we could come and see her sometimes."
"Oh, so you don't want it for Aunt Mary's pleasure, but your own," wasthe quiet rebuke.
Lena's face flushed scarlet as she murmured some words in too low a tonefor her mother to hear.
"Listen, my child; do you not think that a change would do Auntie good?Think how much more she would miss the little niece she has been so goodto, and has learned to love so dearly, if she remained on here, than ifshe goes abroad, and sees new sights and beautiful scenery."
"Yes, I see; but, Mama, I can't help being sorry, and wishing changeswould not come--at least not nasty changes."
"I should be very much astonished and very grieved too, if you were notsorry at parting with Auntie, who has been so good and kind to you andto me too. Changes must come in this world, my child; but we know thatif we love our Saviour, every one that comes is sent in love and forsome good purpose."
"I can't see why Auntie's going away can do us good."
"That is what the disciples said when their Divine Master told them ofHis ascension: they, like you, thought they knew best." Mama spoke thewords so significantly that they at once recalled to her theconversation they had held together some evenings before, and when Lenahad expressed herself as so shocked at the idea of any one thinking theyknew better than God. Humbled and abashed, Lena promised to try andbear whatever was sent for her, though she was quite sure it would bedreadfully hard to bear parting with Auntie, forgetting that it washarder for Auntie than herself. It was a great comfort to both Coloneland Mrs. Graham, since Aunt Mary had decided not to go and live withthem, that she was going abroad with her friend Miss Howard for a fewmonths. It was very easy to let her house for the summer, as WestMeadenham was a favourite resort for summer visitors, and Lena wascomforted by hearing that before Miss Somerville settled down for thewinter, she had promised to pay a visit to her brother and sister atAstbury.
"We shall spend our first Christmas at home altogether," said ColonelGraham cheerfully, as Aunt Mary's plans were being discussed one dayopenly, now that all was arranged.
Lena expected, and Milly also, that the former would be quiteheart-broken at the prospect of parting from her Aunt. Milly was ofrather a sentimental character, and had secret visions of herselfcomforting and consoling poor Lena; and felt rather disappointed, to saythe least of it, when she saw her sister interested and busy in thepreparations for their departure, and talking brightly and hopefully ofwhat was to be done at Astbury. Not that Lena was unkind or unloving.She did love her Aunt very very dearly, and felt really sorry andunhappy at the prospect of losing her; but with the buoyancy andcheerfulness of youth, she soon learned to look on the bright andhopeful side of things. She had never written to Auntie in all herlife, and she talked much of the long letters she would write to her,and then how nice it would be to show her the new home when she came tosee them at Christmas. So very soon she was the same bright, livelylittle Lena of old. Occasionally, however, some little thought oraction would cause her to sigh, and wish that changes would not come--atleast she would add, "I wish people had not to go away from one another.I like going to new places."
There were other changes in store also, for an invitation came for Millyfrom her godmother, who lived in London. Mrs. Clifford wanted to seeand know her little namesake and godchild. Would Colonel Graham, whowas going to Astbury a few days earlier than the rest of the family,bring Milly and leave her with Mrs. Clifford on his way through London?So ran the invitation.
"I wish she had asked me!" exclaimed Lena, when she heard of the letter.
"O Lena, and leave Aunt Mary the last few days!" said Millyreproachfully.
"No, of course not--I did not think of that--but I should like to seeLondon and all the sights."
Milly was not at all of this opinion. She shrank from the very thoughtof going away to a strange house without Mama. She had never left herbefore; and although she was called after Mrs. Clifford, she had onlyseen her once when they were in town, on first arriving from India. Shebegged very hard not to go, but her parents thought it was right for herto do so. Lena alternately teased and laughed at her for being shy andstupid for not wanting to go, and envied her for being invited, andwished she was going, for she was quite sure that Mrs. Clifford wouldtake her to see all sorts of things and be ever so kind to her. If thisinvitation had come to Milly at any other time, I am afraid Lena wouldhave been terribly disappointed at not being invited also; but theselast few days at Aunt Mary's were too full of interest and occupation toallow much time for regrets of any sort. There were so many people andplaces to take farewell of, and so much to be seen to in the house, thatLena was what she called "deliciously busy." Hester was to go with themas nurse to Lucy, so she also was very busy, and also went away for aday or two to say good-bye to her parents, who lived in theneighbourhood of Meadenham. During those days Lucy was Lena's constantcompanion, and on the whole they got on capitally together. They werevery much alike in disposition; and although Lucy was very fond of Lena,she found she was quite a different sort of sister in authority thanMillicent.
Time slipped away very fast, as it always does when there is much to bedone. It is only with the idle and lazy that time lags and creepsslowly along. How the minutes crawl while one is waiting withoutanything to do--they seem to lengthen themselves out in the mostextraordinary manner. Let one of my little readers remark the length offive minutes when she or he, as the case may be,
is busy and interested,and five minutes when they are standing idle, wondering what they shalldo next, or perhaps grumbling because they are prevented doing somethingon which they had set their heart. Once a very small child, who was toldto wait ten minutes for some reason, was seen to give the clock a greatpush and call it "a stupid, tiresome thing"--she was quite sure it hadstopped just to tease her. She was too small to be able to tell thetime herself, but nurse had shown her where the big hand would pointwhen the ten minutes were up, and, oh dear! they were so long to thatimpatient little mortal who stood gazing up at it with such interest andanxiety. The last day came, and they all--that is, Mama, Auntie, Lena,Lucy, and Hester--all started for London, at which place they were tomeet Milly. Mrs. Clifford was to meet them with her at the station, andthere also Aunt Mary was to part from them.
On reaching London, they drove from the station at which they arrivedfrom Meadenham to one on the other side of the town, from which theywere to go to the town near which their future home was situated. AuntMary was to drive with them and see them off. At first Lena and Lucywere in the wildest of spirits, everything was new and pleasant; butbefore they reached London they both became tired of the monotony ofbeing shut up in one place; and as the train was a fast one, it whirledalong too rapidly for them to get more than a passing glimpse of thedifferent places on the road.
Most children delight in going away, but I never yet met with one thatliked being in the train. The Grahams were no exception to this rule.Lucy first became restless and inclined to be cross, then Mama seatedher on her knee, to look out, and very soon the rapid motion wearied thelittle frame, the blue eyes began to blink, then close, the head fellback on Mama's shoulder, and Lucy was sound asleep, to the relief andcomfort of her fellow-passengers. Lena nestled up against Aunt Mary,and as she thus sat with the kind arm round her, the remembrance came toher with startling distinctness, that this would be the last time formany months that she would feel the pressure of that kind hand; and thenthought after thought came thronging into her mind of all the love andgoodness that Aunt Mary had showered upon her during the last six years.Her whole life, as it seemed to the child, had been passed with Auntie,and now that they were to be separated, she wished, oh so much, that shehad been a better and more obedient girl. When she came to them atChristmas she would show her how much she loved her by being so good,and all that she could wish. And she crept closer to her Aunt as shethus thought of the past and of the future. She would have liked tothrow her arms round her neck, and tell her how much she loved her, andhow sorry she was to part with her; but there were strangers in thecompartment with them, and Lena did not like any one but her own peopleto see her in tears, so she only crept close, and squeezed the hand thatclasped hers very tight. Lena's thoughts were good and loving, butmingled with all the goodness was the one thing that was so seldomwanting from her good resolutions, and was the invariable cause of theirfailure, self-confidence--she would be good she was determined. Howoften and often had Auntie shown this to Lena, and now Mama was tryingto teach her the same lesson of humility and trust in God. If Lena hadsaid to her own heart, "I will try, by God's help, to be good and dowhat I know will please Auntie," she would certainly have succeeded.But fortunately for Lena, both Mama and Auntie were asking for her whatshe forgot to ask for herself--the grace of humility.
When the train reached its destination, it was a very sobered, quietLena that got out of it; she was so gentle, and waited so quietly,holding Lucy's hand, while the luggage was being collected and placed ona cab, that Mama said, "Why, Lena, what a capital little traveller youare! I shall tell Papa that he need not be afraid of my travellingwithout him when I have you."
Lena blushed with pleasure at her mother's words, and when they weresettling how to divide their party--for they were obliged to have twocabs--and Lucy said she wanted Lena to come with her and Hester, shecomplied at once, determining that from that very moment she would carryout her good intentions of doing everything that Aunt Mary would approveof; and that both aunt and mother were pleased with her present conduct,she saw at once.
It was a long drive from one station to the other. The streets were socrowded that it took them a much longer time than they expected, notthat either Lena or her little sister thought it too long, for they weredelighted with all the bustle and noise around them, and especially withthe passing glimpse they had at the shops that they drove past. So longhad been their drive across London, that there was but little time tospare on arrival at the station, where Millicent and Mrs. Clifford werewaiting for them--Milly all smiles and beaming with pleasure at sight ofthe dear home faces. Though so glad to see them, she had evidently beenvery happy with Mrs. Clifford, to judge from her friendly attitudetowards that lady, and the warm kiss and grateful words of farewell whenthe time came for saying good-bye.
There was no opportunity for any private last words between Aunt Maryand Lena in all the fuss of starting: a fond kiss and a whispered "Godbless you, my darling," was all Auntie said as she parted from herlittle niece.
"Good-bye, Auntie, darling; you will come back soon, won't you? and Iwill be so good I promise you."
"Promise me to try, dear," laying a stress on the word try, as shereturned the kisses that the now weeping Lena was pressing on her cheek.
Auntie's eyes were full of tears also as she stood watching them alltake their places in the train.
"You will let Milly come to me again, I hope," said Mrs. Clifford. "Shehas been such a good girl, I have quite enjoyed having her. And Lenamust come too," she added, kindly laying her hand on the girl's shoulderas she spoke, seeing her struggling bravely to check her sobs, "Won'tyou, dear?"
A nod was all Lena could manage; speaking was out of the question atthat moment; but the nod and grateful look showed Mrs. Clifford that herkindness was appreciated.
"I won't forget your parcel, Milly," called out Mrs. Clifford as thetrain began to move, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker.
Lena stooped forward to take a last loving look at Auntie, who stoodwaving her hand in farewell. Then the train glided out of the station,and they were fairly on their way to their new home. Mama drew Lena downbeside her, and with loving words cheered and consoled the poor girl,who, now that the excitement was all over, broke down utterly, andlaying her head on Mama's shoulder, wept bitterly. The tears came frommany mingled sources: first was sorrow from parting with Auntie, andthat sorrow was real and deep, but she had the hope of seeing her againvery soon, and she was with the dear mother she loved so dearly, and hadso often and often longed to be with; fatigue and over-excitement helpedto cause the sobs, which were in great part hysterical. Lena had livedsuch a quiet regular life with her Aunt, that she was now feeling allthe excitement and bustle of the last week or two. There had been allthe packing and good-byes, and the journey, and now, to crown it all,was the parting from Auntie.
Mrs. Graham let her cry on quietly for some time as she sat encircled byher arm, until the first violence of her tears was over. Then she spoketo her a few caressing words, which helped to soothe the weary child;gradually, as the sobs ceased, the poor tear-swollen eyes closed, fromsheer "weariness of grief," and Lena fell asleep on Mama's arm, whileMilly, with frequent looks of sympathy towards her sister, helped Hesterto amuse Lucy at the opposite window.
Thus they journeyed quietly on, until the train stopping roused Lena."Have we arrived?" she asked in a sleepy voice.
"No, dear, we are not half-way yet. Edgerley is a very small place,which this is certainly not."
By the time Mama had done speaking Lena was wide awake, and the threegirls crowded to the window to look out, and also, as they said, inhopes of preventing any one coming in. Several people peeped into thecarriage, but whether it was the sight of the small fellow-travellers,who, however charming they may be, are certainly not appreciated by thetravelling public, or from some other reason, they left our party tothemselves, so that, when they once more started off, it was in quite alively tone Lena exclaimed,
"Oh, I am glad no one came in, I was in sucha fright they would!" Her sleep had done Lena good, although the readytears sprang to her eyes whenever the thought of Aunt Mary was recalled.She was calmer and happier, and as the time wore on she soon recoveredher spirits, and was busy helping her sisters with the buns andsandwiches that were in Mama's basket, and eagerly talking about whatthey were to see at their country home, and also listening to Milly'saccount of her visit to Mrs. Clifford.
"I am to go next time with you, am I not, Mama?" she asked.
"Perhaps Milly won't want you to," said Lucy in a very grave tone.
"O Lucy, of course I shall. It will be ever so much nicer. And thereare such lots of things to see and do." And here she launched into ananimated account of all her doings.
"What is the parcel she is going to send?" Mrs. Graham with a smileasked.
"I don't know, Mama, what it will be--it's a present. She said shewould take me to the Bazaar and buy me something; but we had not timeyesterday, so she said she would send it to me."
"I wonder what it will be!" said Lena, and they all fell to conjecturingwhat Milly's present would be, guessing all the probable and improbablethings they could think off. Not satisfied with this, they--that is thetwo who were not included--actually talked themselves into the beliefthat Mrs. Clifford, now she had seen them, would very likely send themsomething also: in fact, it was not only a probable thing, but "almostsure to be the case."
Thus they whiled away the time of their journey, until Mama announcedthat the next station would be Edgerley.
When the train drew up there, three little heads were out of the window,and three shrill young voices were shouting out words of welcome toPapa, whom they at once caught sight of standing waiting for them.
It was a very small station, as Mrs. Graham had told them. She had beento it before when she had paid a visit, many years ago, to Colonel andMrs. Freeling, who were now to be their near neighbours. They were theonly passengers who alighted, and until their luggage was taken outthere was no time to speak with Papa; for, as it appeared to thechildren, "the train seemed to be in a hurry to rush off again;" and itcertainly looked as if they were right, for directly their luggage wastaken out of the van and safely deposited on the platform, the guardwaved his arm, the engine gave what sounded like a very impatientshriek, and the train rushed off again with its living freight, and leftour young people standing gazing after it, in a sort of bewilderment,from which their father's cheery voice roused them as he exclaimed,"Now, children, come along; while you are being packed into thecarriage, I will give orders for the luggage to be sent up in a cart."
"A carriage!" exclaimed Lena, as she caught sight of a handsome carriageand pair of horses standing outside the station. "Is that ours? hownice! I am glad." She asked the question of no one in particular, andno one answered it, all being busy and their attention occupied at themoment. Milly did not feel the same feeling of pleasure as her sister atthe sight of the carriage, for during their stay in India her parentshad kept their carriage, not as a luxury as in this country, and oneonly to be indulged in by rich people, but as a matter of necessity. Soshe took her seat next Lena without a word or sign of wonder. "This isnice," began Lena directly they started, though this was not done for alittle while, during which she had been picturing to herself all sortsof wonderful visions of a large house and future drives in thiscomfortable equipage. It was very strange why Aunt Mary had always beenso particular in making her so careful of her things, and teaching herto do so much for herself if her Papa was so rich.
"So you are pleased, little woman," said her father. "It was very kindof Colonel Freeling to send his carriage and bring you home in statelike this," he added with a laugh.
"Colonel Freeling!" said Lena in a tone of surprise. "Is it not ourcarriage, Papa?"
"No, dear, of course not. What put such an idea into your head?" Atsight of Lena's crestfallen looks at his answer, Colonel Graham burstout laughing, in which the others joined, much to Lena's secretannoyance. Then he added gravely, "I thought you knew, dear, that I wasnot a rich man, only"--this with a laugh--"a poor soldier."
"But Colonel Freeling was a soldier too; you said so," she persisted.
"Yes, with a private fortune, which makes all the difference."
"Riches do not make happiness, darling," said Mama kindly. "We shall bevery happy in our quiet little country home without a grand carriagelike this, and we ought all to be very much obliged to Colonel Freelingfor having been so kind in lending it to us to-day."
"Here we are," said Colonel Graham, as turning the corner they came insight of a small but very pretty house standing within iron gates whichopened into the road.