*CHAPTER VII.*
*THE NEW HOUSE.*
As Mama had said, Astbury was a very small house, but for all that itwas a very pretty one, and looked so homelike and inviting this finespring evening. The windows shone out, lit up by the rays of the settingsun, from amid the green leaves with which the house was covered, likefriendly eyes of welcome to the new-corners. Roses and wisteria seemedto vie with one another in beauty and luxuriance on the walls.
They all exclaimed with pleasure and delight at this first sight oftheir new home. All Lena's visions faded away of a stately mansion, andshe agreed with the others that nothing could be prettier or nicer thantheir new home appeared to be, and although it was small, how could theyhelp being happy in such a pretty place? There was not much garden inthe front, but behind, as they soon discovered, was quite a large one,and to the side was a kitchen-garden, and beyond, stretching far away onevery side of them, was field after field. The children were soimpatient to explore the garden and shrubberies, and to wander forthinto this delicious green world around them, that it was with extremeunwillingness that they received the summons to tea, which ought to havebeen a welcome one to such young travellers. Lena and Milly were toshare a room together in their new home, while Lucy still occupied onewith Hester, who had come as nurse. There was no fear of their gettinginto trouble or difficulties here, Mama thought, so they were allowed toramble off at their own sweet will the next morning; and what wonderfuldiscoveries they made, to be sure; everything was new and delightful tothem. Although Lena had never lived quite in the country before likethis, she had been so many country rambles with Auntie, that most of thewild flowers that grew in such profusion round Astbury were known to herby sight and name. Milly and Lucy considered her as quite an authorityon the subject, and consulted her about every new floral treasure theyacquired. Returning home with hands full of bluebells and anemones, theymet the first living human creature they had come across in theirrambles. Cows and sheep they had seen in plenty--almost too many of theformer for their perfect comfort--but none of their own species tillthis young girl, who returned their looks of curiosity with one equallyas curious. She was taller and bigger than either of the elder Grahamgirls, with short curly hair and sun-browned face, dressed very plainlyin blue serge with a plain sailor-hat perched on the top of her curls,rather, Milly thought, because it was necessary to wear a hat than toshelter her face from the sun, for it was pushed well back, which quiteaccounted for the young face being so sun-burnt and rosy. She hesitatedas she met our young people as if about to speak, then drew back with asort of cold shyness and hurried on. Not so a little dog she had withher. At sight of the Graham girls, he stood still and set up a seriesof shrill barks. Lena and Milly hesitated whether to attempt to passhim or not. Lucy settled the matter by retreating backwards into thehedge, dragging Milly with her and screaming with terror. At the noisethe girl turned. Seizing the dog in her arms, she exclaimed, "Don't befrightened, he won't hurt you." Then giving the dog a good hard slap,added, "Be quiet, you stupid little thing." And without another wordshe hurried on again.
Lucy soon recovered from her terror, and the incident of the dog and theunknown girl was an engrossing subject of conversation for the remainderof the walk, and was eagerly related to their parents at dinner.
"It must have been Bessie Freeling, I fancy," said Colonel Graham; "sheanswers to your description."
"Would not she be afraid to go about by herself?" asked Milly.
"No, I fancy from what I have seen of her that she is only too fond ofroaming about in the fields; likes it better, I suspect, than staying inthe schoolroom and learning her lessons," said their father with asmile.
"I don't wonder, Papa," was Lena's emphatic remark; "I could be out inthe fields all day long."
"You must be careful what fields you go into, children, for some of themare set aside for hay, and you would be doing sad mischief if you wentwandering about there."
"Had not you better go with them and show them where they may go andwhere not?" said their mother.
"Yes," said Colonel Graham, "we will all go together this afternoon,Mama and all, later in the day, I mean when it is cooler."
"May not we go out now?" asked Milly.
"No, dear, it is too hot; besides, you have not put your books andthings away tidily in your room. I thought you both had decided onmaking your room pretty and keeping it so."
"So we did. Let us go and do it now, Lena, while Lucy has her sleep."For little Lucy always required a sleep in the middle of the day, forhowever much she wished to be running about, her eyes would grow heavy,and her little feet weary after spending the morning trotting about.
Lena and Milly were very busy in their room when they received a summonsto the drawing-room to see Mrs. Freeling, who, with her two girls, hadcome to call. It was Hester who had come to tell them, and on seeingLena jump down from the chair she was standing on, so as to enable herto reach the bookcase, where hers and Milly's books were to be kept, sheexclaimed--
"Why, Miss Lena, you are not going to leave your work unfinished, now itis so nearly done, are you?"
"We can do that afterwards; I do so want to see Bessie Freeling."
"There are so few books left, you had better put them all tidy; I knowyou will forget afterwards."
"Well, give them to me, Milly. We will stick them up anyhow now, andput them right by and by."
"It is as easy to put them in tidily as untidily," said Hester; "and Idon't mean to let you go down till you have done it, and seen that youare tidy also."
So, very unwillingly, Lena had to wait till Hester considered they werefit to go down, for both children's hands showed they had been at work.When they were ready Lena said, "Come, Milly; how slow you are! I don'tbelieve you want to go," and she turned to Milly, who was stilllingering at the table.
"I do hate going down to see new people. I never know what to say tothem first."
"I like it when there are children, and I do want to know if Bessie isthe same girl we saw this morning. Come on, Milly."
"Curiosity" gained the day, and overcame Milly's shyness, for she toowanted to see if Bessie and their unknown friend were the same.
Yes, Papa had been quite right in his surmise, for when they entered theroom, they at once recognised the young girl sitting so quietly anddemurely beside Mrs. Freeling to be the same one they had met in themorning. Gertrude, the elder sister, was there also. Much taller thanBessie, with long fair hair, and a quiet self-possessed manner, thatmade both our little friends decide that she was almost grown up, thoughMilly thought she must be very nice, she had such a sweet gentle look.Lena did not trouble very much about her, as she saw she was so"grown-up looking;" all her looks and interest were centered uponBessie, who looked very rosy and uncomfortable, for she was as shynearly as Milly, and only answered Lena's friendly advances with shortlow monosyllables, until the door opened and Lucy entered. At first shedid not recognise Bessie as the owner of the little dog that had sofrightened her, but the moment she did so she ran to her withoutstretched hand, asking, "Where is your little dog? haven't youbrought him, 'cause he was naughty?"
Bessie's eyes brightened as she greeted the child, and very soon Lucywas on her knee chattering away quite at her ease, and Bessie soonforgot her shyness also in the delight of the little one's company.
"How nice for you to have a little sister!" she said, looking at Lena.
"Yes, she is a dear little thing. Are you so fond of little children?"
"Yes, I love them. I hate dolls; they can't speak or anything, justpieces of wood. I would rather have Dash than any doll; but Lucy isbetter than Dash," she added with a low laugh.
Lena looked rather disgusted at her words, and said in an aggrievedtone, "We all love dolls; don't we, Milly?"
"Love dolls," said Gertrude, joining them, "so used I; and I am not surethat I don't still, at any rate I like dressing them."
"Gerty has got a whole drawerful at home. I think it is so silly to likethem," said Bessie scornfully.
Mrs. Freeling rising at that moment to leave, there was nothing moresaid about the dolls.
"Bessie, we must ask Miss Gifford to give you a half-holiday to-morrow."
"It is Wednesday, Mama, so I have one," interrupted Bessie hastily.
"Ah yes, so it is, I had forgotten. Mrs. Graham has promised to bringher children to-morrow to spend the day with you and Gertrude."
"How nice! And, Mama, mayn't Lucy come too?"
"Of course, dear, she was included;" then she added, turning to Mrs.Graham, "We will expect you by one o'clock. You are sure you prefer towalk up?"
"Yes, we shall all enjoy the walk across the fields." And she looked ather children, whose beaming faces showed they were delighted at allMama's arrangements for them.
As the carriage drove away, the three children all began a chorus ofremarks upon their late visitors. Lucy was unqualified in her praises,but not so Lena and Milly; they were neither of them sure whether theyliked Bessie quite so much as they expected.
"Gertrude was very nice," said Milly.
"What fault have you to find with poor Bessie?" said Mrs. Graham.
"Why, Mama, she turned up her nose at our liking dolls, called thempieces of wood, and spoke as if she thought we were silly," said Lenaindignantly.
"Well, dear, you cannot expect to find everybody with exactly the sametastes as yourselves. I daresay you will find she is really very nice;she looks a bright frank girl, and she must be kind, judging from theway she treated Lucy."
"She loves little girls," said Lucy with a toss of her small head. "Shelikes me better than Dash; she said so."
Mrs. Graham was right. The girls found out the next day that they hadvery many tastes in common with Bessie. Although she did not likedolls, there were a great many things she did like, especially playingin the garden and the fields, and before they separated that eveningthey were all the closest of friends. But Lucy was prime favourite withBessie; everything that the child wanted was done at once, nothing wastoo much to give the little one pleasure. Bessie had spoken the truthwhen she had said that Gertrude had a drawer full of dolls, and as theywere looking at them--for Bessie condescended to be one of the party, asLucy expressed a wish to see the "dear dollies"--she exclaimed, "Don'tyou think it silly of Gerty keeping those dolls when she is so old? Andthen she is so fond of books, she is always at them. Miss Gifford saysshe knows three times as much as I do."
"That is your own fault, Bessie, you know; for you won't try to learn,so how can you get on?"
"How can one think of lessons when one wants to be out of doors? Idon't mind them on wet days, but on fine ones I cannot bear the sight ofa book. I envy you," looking at her friends as she spoke, "for you haveholidays and no governess."
"But only for a week longer. Our new governess is coming then, and weare not to have any more holidays this summer, except a fortnight inAugust."
"What a shame!"
"Mama says we have had so many lately; but we shall have the samehalf-holidays as you."
"Then we can be out together, and the summer evenings are lovely for thefields."
"Don't you like your lessons at all, Bessie?" asked Milly.
"No. How can I, when I feel I am such a long way behind Gerty? It's nogood my trying to get on--I can't," and a shade passed over the brightface as she sighed. Bessie was in fact disheartened and disappointed.She had been, when younger, considered quicker at her work thanGertrude, and when she found she could learn so much sooner the lessonsset them, she had become idle and careless, thinking she could easilycatch up Gerty, though she did work so hard and was so fond of herbooks. But Bessie soon found she had made a mistake, for the carelessroving habits she had given way to grew fast upon her, and soon hersister outdistanced her on the path of learning. So Bessie grewdisgusted and disheartened. Instead of trying to make up for lost time,she said "It was of no use," and grew fonder, or said she did, ofshirking her work. The Graham girls often wondered that Mrs. Freelingallowed her so much liberty, for not only on the summer evenings, butevery spare hour she could get, Bessie made her way to the Grahams, andwould coax Mrs. Graham to let her carry off little Lucy to the garden,much to the child's delight. The reason of this was that Mrs. Freelinghad come to the decision that Bessie must go to a boarding-school. Shehad watched with sorrow how the girl's idle habits were increasing, andshe also saw that a good deal of it was caused by her being sothoroughly put out of heart about her own doings and work. It would bebetter for her, Mrs. Freeling knew, to have a change, and she hoped thatbeing with other girls, with whom she had not lost ground, would giveher courage to make a fresh start. Little did Bessie guess, as sheplayed with Lucy or her sisters, that very soon all this wild free lifewas to be exchanged for the routine and discipline of a school.Gertrude knew of it, and over and over again would she try and persuadeBessie to settle down more steadily to her lessons; but argument andpersuasion were alike in vain. She was always unprepared and introuble. "You will be sorry for it," Gertrude would many a time say;but Bessie's answer was always the same, "It is no good trying; I can'tget on." Thus the next week or two slipped away. Miss Marshall hadarrived, and lessons were begun regularly, when one morning Lucy rushedin, throwing the door wide open, and forgetting in her excitement thatshe was breaking through all rules by thus disturbing her sisters duringworking hours.
"O Miss Marshall, Lena, Milly, what do you think?" she exclaimedeagerly, her eyes sparkling with delight. Then without waiting for ananswer she went on, "We are all to have tea in the hayfield. Mrs.Freeling has asked us, and Mama says we may go, and this afternoonBessie is going to buy me a little rake, and I shall make hay." Herethe child stopped for sheer want of breath, while Lena and Milly bothexclaimed in tones of delight at the proposed treat.
Fortunately lessons were nearly over for the morning, for Miss Marshallfound it very difficult to restrain her pupils' eagerness to get themfinished, and go and hear all about the treat in store. Bessie, who hadbrought the news to Lucy, was quite ready and able to give them allparticulars. And the two elder girls looked wistfully after thecarriage that conveyed Mrs. Graham and Lucy with Mrs. Freeling to theneighbouring town when they began afternoon lessons.
"Lucy gets all the treats," murmured Lena crossly, while Milly addedwith a little sigh, "I wish I was her."
This was to be a day of surprises for them, for when Mama returned shetold them she had heard from Mrs. Clifford, who wrote she had that daysent off a box. "It is addressed to you, Milly dear," she continued.
"When do you think it will come?" asked Milly.
"It has arrived at the station, dear. Mrs. Freeling kindly called,meaning to bring it back with her; but we heard then that it had beensent by the carrier, so I expect it will soon be here."
After tea and lessons were over, the three girls went down the road tolook if they could see the carrier's cart coming. Lena and Lucy wereboth as excited about the expected parcel as Milly herself, for they hadquite talked themselves into the belief that Mrs. Clifford would be sureto send them something. Mrs. Graham had repeatedly told them that itwas not at all probable; but they thought otherwise, and as they wishedto think so, Mama's warnings were all thrown away upon them. Bessie,too, had helped to increase Lucy's confidence, for she had said, "Ofcourse she would not forget to send such a little darling as yousomething nice." So all three were in a state of great delight whenthey saw the cart coming towards the house. They all scampered back tocall to Mama that the precious parcel would very soon arrive, and toentreat her to come and see it opened."
"You can bring it into the dining-room and open it there," said Mrs.Graham to the eager party.
"Such a nice big one, Mama," said Milly, appearing with a box in herarms, done up in brown paper, and addressed to "Miss Millicent Graham."
"It must have more than one thing in it," said Lena anxiously. Then thestring was u
ndone and the paper taken off, and a square card-board boxwas displayed to view.
"I see two parcels," said Milly excitedly as she opened it.
"Mine will be in the corner or underneath!" cried Lucy, as she dancedabout in her excitement.
Milly took out the first thing, and taking off the paper coverings thatwere round it, held up a very pretty white hat, trimmed with lace and alarge white ostrich feather.
"Oh, how lovely! I hope mine is the same," said Lena, putting down thehat on the table.
Milly took out the other thing. It was not a hat she felt at once.Uncovering it, she saw a white straw work-basket, and opening it theyfurther saw that it was lined with blue satin, and filled with all thenecessary things for working with. Laying that on the table beside thehat, she dived again into the box. A look of disappointment crept overher face as she felt, for nothing more was there but the paper which hadbeen placed in it to keep the hat from being hurt by the basket.
"That's all," she said at length.
Lucy stood the picture of disappointment, and screwed up her little faceready for a good cry, when Mama said, "Look, dear, here is a note in thework-basket."
Lucy waited for her cry to hear if there was any good news in the note.
"Read it, please, Mama," said Milly, putting the paper into her mother'shands. She had caught a glimpse of what was written, and she could notbear to read out the words which she knew were coming.
"For dear Milly, hoping she will like her god-mama's choice." Not aword about either Lena or Lucy.
The latter set up a howl of disappointment, but Lena said never a word.Her disappointment was very great--she had so made up her mind that shewould be remembered, and had spoken so decidedly on the subject beforethem all. Her heart swelled with feelings of wounded pride,disappointment, and anger, for at the moment she was angry, not onlywith herself for having so hoped for it, but with Mrs. Clifford, who sheconsidered had behaved very unkindly to her. Though why Mrs. Cliffordshould have sent her a present she could not have told you herself.
"May Lena have the hat, and me the basket, Mania?" asked Millypleadingly. "You like the hat best, don't you, Lena?"
Mrs. Graham was trying to comfort the weeping Lucy, who refused to becomforted, and wept and raved at the cruelty of every one in general andMrs. Clifford in particular.
"No, Milly, I don't want the hat: they were both sent to you; of courseshe likes you best--every one does." And with these words, and withouta kind look or word of thanks to her sister, Lena left the room.
Poor Milly! Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at the presentsthat but a few minutes before she had thought of with such pleasure.
Mrs. Graham came to her side, and lifting up her face, kissed her, andwhispered, "My poor little Milly, this is a sad way to receive yourpresent."
"O Mama, I wish it had never come. I can never wear the hat."
"No," screamed Lucy, "it's a nasty hat--I'll spoil it," and she seizedthe unoffending hat roughly; but Mrs. Graham at once took it from her,and handing it to Milly, said, "Put it in the box again, and take it tomy room."
"Nasty horrid thing! I'll spoil you," screamed Lucy again, and thus,screaming and struggling, the passionate child was taken by her motherto the nursery, while Milly put the hat and work-basket away in the box,and carried it up as told to her mother's room. Opening the wardrobeshe put the box into it, and then shut and locked the door.
"There, you are out of sight now," she said as she did so. Then sittingdown on the sofa she gave way to a burst of tears. She had lookedforward with such pleasure to receiving her promised present; in hersecret heart she had hoped that it might be the very work-basket thathad come, for she had admired it so much in the shop one day, and Mrs.Clifford had alluded to it before she left. Now it had really been givento her, and had brought her nothing but sorrow. Why would not Lena takethe hat? for she had said she hoped there would be one for her the same,and Milly couldn't wear it after what Lena had said. She was sorrythere was nothing for Lucy, but she knew she would soon be comforted bysome small present, and that she should have something Milly quitesettled in her own mind; but she felt that with Lena it was verydifferent, nothing she had to give her would make up for thedisappointment and the wound to her self-love. It was not thus thatMilly called it; she so dearly loved her sister that she made excusesfor her in her own mind and also to her mother, who very soon came toseek for and comfort her.
"Mama, Lena says she won't have the hat--do make her take it."
"No, dear; I don't wish her to have it. It was sent to you, and I wantmy children to learn to see each other given pleasure without covetingit for themselves or being jealous about it."
"O Mama, but it was such a disappointment to her!"
"Yes, I know it is; but Lena has brought it on herself, for I have toldher over and over again that she was raising false hopes both forherself and Lucy, and so it has ended in sorrow to you all."
"Can't I leave it in your wardrobe and say nothing more about it?"
"The hat you may leave in my wardrobe, and you needn't wear it justyet,--indeed there won't be an opportunity for doing so,--but thework-basket must be taken down to the drawing-room. Both Lucy and Lenamust learn to see it, dear, without wanting it."
Milly felt somehow that Lena wouldn't mind the work-basket so much,especially as she had a nice one of her own, while Milly's was an oldand rather shabby one, so she took it down more contentedly; now thatthe hat was well out of sight, she hoped that it would soon beforgotten.
Lena walked out of the dining-room with a swelling heart and cloudedbrow. She had been very unkindly and ungently treated, she considered.It was very hard that Milly should have everything. What right had sheto have a godmama who gave presents when she herself had not, forgettingthat the Aunt who had done so much for her was her godmother as well asAunt, and had done for her far more than Milly's had ever done. Runningup to her bedroom for her garden-hat, she opened the drawer where herbest hat was kept. She had thought it very pretty and nice when it wasgiven her, but now, as she looked at it, and compared it with Milly'snew one, she thought how shabby and plain it was. "Not even a feather!"And she shut to the drawer with a slam, and seizing her garden-hat randownstairs again and out of the house. As she wandered on by herself,all the jealous fancies that had raised their heads before, now beganslowly to return and show themselves once more. Ah me! Lena was notonly allowing them to do so unopposed, but encouraging them both to comeback and remain with her. Looking back at the house, she saw, throughthe open window of her mother's room, Milly standing up, and beside herstood Mrs. Graham. If Lena had only heard the words her sister wassaying, her heart would have softened. "It was such a disappointment toher," the gentle voice pleaded; but unfortunately, the words wereunheard, and Lena, turning her back to the sight, walked on hurriedly."I knew she was Mama's favourite, she has got everything; it is me Mamamight be sorry for. Oh, I wish Aunt Mary was here!" At this thoughtthe tears filled her eyes, but she pressed them back; if any one saw hercrying, they would think it was because she was sorry for the hat, andshe would not let them think that Very soon she caught sight of Bessiecoming across the fields. As soon as the latter saw her, she hurriedon, calling out the moment she was within hearing, "Has the parcelarrived?"
"Yes," said Lena, trying to speak indifferently. "But it was only forMilly--a hat and a work-basket."
"Nothing for you?"
"No," said Lena with a shaky voice, which Bessie seeing, she slipped herarm in hers, saying, "What a shame! And nothing for little Lucy; shewill be disappointed!"
Lena began to walk off in the direction away from the house; and Bessie,who was always good-natured, especially when any one was in trouble,walked beside her, and began telling her what they hoped to do the nextday, when they were to spend the afternoon in the hay-field. "Mamawants Mrs. Graham to let Hester and the other servants come too--everyone ought to help in the hay-field."
Lena did not return home un
til as late an hour as she dared to, butnothing was said by either Mama or Miss Marshall at her being a littlelate, both hoping that she had had time to reflect on what had passed,and that by this time she knew she alone had been to blame for the falsehopes she had raised for herself and her little sister. Not one word didLena say about the parcel or her disappointment. She would show themshe did not care. And when Milly, who was longing for an opportunity tosay something kind about it, saw that Lena did not wish the subjectmentioned, she kept silence, only trying, by being extra kind and lovingto her, to show she felt with and for her. When they were alone intheir room Lena said she was tired and sleepy, hurrying over herundressing, and, alas! her prayers also. She did not wish to forgive,and the girl's mind was so clouded by her wrong and jealous thoughts,that she would not allow that she herself had any need of forgiveness.With a cold kiss she returned Milly's clinging, loving embrace; andprayerless--for no mere formal words, repeated from habit only, can becalled prayer--and unhappy,--for how could she be otherwise with suchthoughts as hers?--she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. Sostill did she lie, that when Mrs. Graham came in to see her littlegirls, as was her custom every night, Milly said softly, "Lena wastired, Mama, and she is asleep already."
"Poor child," said her Mother, "I won't stay and talk to you, dear, forfear of waking her. I am glad she has taken the disappointment soquietly." After kissing Milly, she stooped over Lena, and with a tender"God bless you, my child," she kissed her forehead softly, and left theroom.
The tears forced themselves under the closed lids, but Lena gulped themback, and with them, all the softened thoughts that began to rise at hermother's words; and as she drove back the good, the wrong thoughtsreturned and filled the child's mind with seeds that were to reap abitter harvest ere long.