CHAPTER VI
WET DAYS AT RAVENSNEST
For about a week after the row on the lake the weather was lovely, andMilly wondered more than ever what the old gentleman who warned them ofthe rain in the mountains could have been thinking about. She and Ollywere out all day, and nearly every afternoon nurse lifted the tea-tablethrough the low nursery window on to the lawn, and let them have theirtea out of doors among the flowers and trees and twittering birds. Theyhad found out a fly-catcher's nest in the ivy above the front door, andevery evening the two children used to fetch out their father to watchthe parent birds catching flies and carrying them to the hungry littleones, whom they could just hear chirping up above the ivy. Olly was wildto get the gardener's ladder that he might climb up and look into thenest, but Mr. Norton would not have it lest it should frighten away theold birds.
One delicious warm morning, too, the children had their long-promisedbathe, and what fun it was. Nurse woke them up at five o'clock in themorning--fancy waking up as early as that!--and they slipped on theirlittle blue bathing gowns, and their sand shoes that mother had boughtthem in Cromer the year before, and then nurse wrapped them up inshawls, and she and they and father went down and opened the front doorwhile everybody else in the house was asleep, and slipped out. What aquiet strange world it seemed, the grass and the flowers dripping withdew, and overhead such a blue sky with white clouds sailing slowly aboutin it.
"Why don't we always get up at five o'clock, father?" asked Olly, as heand Milly skipped along--such an odd little pair of figures--beside Mr.Norton. "Isn't it nice and funny?"
"Very," said Mr. Norton. "Still, I imagine Olly, if you had to get upevery day at five o'clock, you might think it funny, but I'm sure youwouldn't always think it nice."
"Oh! I'm sure we should," said Milly, seriously. "Why, father, it's justas if everything was ours and nobody else's, the garden and the river Imean. Is there _anybody_ up yet do you think--in those houses?" AndMilly pointed to the few houses they could see from the Ravensnestgarden.
"I can't tell, Milly. But I'll tell you who's sure to be up now, andthat's John Backhouse. I should think he's just beginning to milk thecows."
"Oh then, Becky and Tiza'll be up too," cried Milly, dancing about. "Iwish we could see them. Somehow it would be quite different seeing themnow, father. I feel so queer, as if I was somebody else."
If you have ever been up _very_ early on a summer morning, you will knowwhat Milly meant, but if not I can hardly explain it. Such a prettyquiet little walk they had down to the river. Nobody on the road, nobodyin the fields, but the birds chattering and the sun shining, as if theywere having a good time all to themselves, before anybody woke up tointerrupt them. Mr. Norton took the children down to thestepping-stones, and then, while Milly and nurse stayed on the bank helifted Olly up, and carried him to the middle of the stepping-stones,where the water would about come up to his chest. Mr. Norton had alreadytaken off his own shoes and stockings, and when they came to the middlestone, he put Olly down on the stone, and stepped into the waterhimself. "Now, Olly, give me your hands and jump in. Mind, it'll feelvery cold."
Olly shut his eyes, and opened his mouth, as he always did when he feltjust a little frightened, and then in he went; splash! ugh! it was socold--much colder than the sea used to feel--but after a few splashesOlly began to get used to it, and to think it fine fun.
"Oh, father, fetch Milly, and then we'll all dance about," entreatedOlly.
"Come, Milly," called Mr. Norton. "Try whether you can manage thestepping-stones by yourself." So Milly came, holding up her bathingdress, and stepping from one big stone to another with a very graveface, as if she felt that there would be an end of her altogether if shetumbled in. And then, splash! In she jumped by the side of Olly, andafter a little shiver or two she also began to think that the river wasa delightful bathing place, almost as nice as the sea, perhaps in someways nicer, because it was such a strange and funny one. They danced andsplashed about in the brown sparkling water till they were tired, and atlast Olly stopped to take breath.
"I should think the fishes must be frightened of us," he said, peeringdown into the river. "I can't see any, father."
"Well, they wouldn't choose to swim about just where little children areshouting and capering. The fishes are hidden safe away under the banksand the big stones. Besides, it's going to be a very hot day, and theylike the shady bits of the river. Just here there's no shade."
Suddenly there was a great commotion in the river, and when Mr. Nortonlooked round for a second he could see nothing of Milly, till up came adripping head and a pair of hands, and there was Milly kneeling on thestones at the bottom of the river, with just her head above water,looking very much astonished and rather frightened.
"Why, what happened, old woman?" said Mr. Norton, holding out his handto help her up.
"I--I--don't quite know, father; I was standing on a big stone, and allof a sudden it tipped up, and I tumbled right in."
"First of all I thought you was a big fish, and then I thought you wasgoing to be drowned," said Olly, cheerfully. "I'm glad you wasn'tdrowned."
"Miss Milly! Miss Milly!" shouted nurse from the bank, "it's quite timeyou came out now. If you stay in so long you'll get cold, and you, too,Master Olly."
Olly was not inclined to come. He would have liked to go on dabbling andsplashing till breakfast-time, but Mr. Norton hurried him out, and thetwo dripping little creatures were well wrapped up in large shawls whichnurse had brought with her. Then nurse took up Olly in her arms, andfather took up Milly, who was small and light for her age, and they setoff up the bit of road to the house. By this time it was past sixo'clock, and whom should they meet at the Ravensnest gate but JohnBackhouse, with Becky and Tiza, and his two dogs. He was just bringingthe milk, and both he and his children looked as brisk and wide awake asif they had been up and about for hours.
Milly and Olly were very much excited at the sight of them, and Ollystruggled hard to get down, but nurse held him tight.
"Oh, Becky! we've had such a nice bathe," cried Milly, as she passedthem muffled up in her shawl, her little wet feet dangling out.
Becky and Tiza looked longingly after them as they disappeared into thehouse. They wished they could have had a bathe too, but they knew verywell that their hard-worked father and mother had something else to doon a fine summer's morning than to take them to bathe, and in a fewminutes they had forgotten all about it, and were busy playing with thedogs, or chattering to their father about the hay-making, which was soonto begin now.
That evening there were strange clouds at sunset time, and Mr. Nortonshook his head as he heard Mrs. Norton arrange to take the children nextday to a small mountain village near Ravensnest, to call on some oldfriends of hers.
"I wouldn't make much of a plan for to-morrow if I were you," he said tohis wife, "the weather doesn't look promising."
"Oh, father!" said Milly, protesting. "There are some red clouds overthere--look! and Nana always says it's going to be fine when there arered clouds."
"Well, Milly, your red clouds may be right and I may be wrong. We shallsee."
But, alas! father was quite right. When Milly woke up next morning therewas no nice sunshine creeping on to her bed as it had done almost eversince they came to Ravensnest; but instead there was rain beatingsteadily against the window, coming down out of a heavy gray sky, andlooking as if it meant to go on for ever.
"Oh dear!" sighed Milly, as she began to dress, "we can't go out, andthe wild strawberries will get so wet. I meant to have gathered some formother to-day. There would have been such nice ones in the wood."
But it was no use thinking about woods or strawberries, and when Mrs.Norton came into the children's room just as they were finishingbreakfast, she found a pair of dull little faces staring out at therain, as if looking at it would make it stop.
"Nasty rain," said Olly, climbing up on his mother's knee. "Go to Spain.I don't want you to come and spoil my nicey time."
/> "I am afraid scolding the rain won't make it go away," said his mother,smiling into his brown face as he knelt on her lap, with his arms roundher neck. "Now what are we going to do to-day?"
"I don't know," said Milly, sitting down opposite her mother, andresting her face gravely on her hands. "Well, we brought _some_ toys,you know, mother. Olly's got his top; I can help him spin it, and I canplay with Katie a bit."
"That won't take very long," said Mrs. Norton. "Suppose we do somelessons first of all."
"Oh, mother, lessons!" said Milly, in a very doubtful voice.
"It's holidays, mother, it's holidays," cried Olly. "I don't likelessons--not a bit."
"Well, but, Olly, think a bit; you can't spin your top and look atpicture-books all day, and I'm afraid it's going to rain all day--itlooks very like it. If you come and do some reading and counting with methis morning, I can give you some spills to make, or some letters totear up for me afterwards. That will save the toys for this afternoon;and some time this afternoon, if it doesn't stop raining, we'll allhave a romp. And as for you, Milly, don't you think it's quite timeKatie had a new frock? I believe I can find a beautiful bit of blue silkin my bag, and I'm sure nurse will show you how to make it."
Milly's face brightened up very much at this, and the two children wentskipping upstairs to the drawing-room after their mother, in very fairspirits again. Olly did some reading, while Milly wrote in her copybook,and then Olly had his counting-slate and tried to find out what 6 and 4made, and 5 and 3, and other little sums of the same kind. He yawned agood deal over his reading, and was quite sure several times that h-a-yspelt "ham," and s-a-w spelt "was," but still, on the whole, he gotthrough very well. Milly wrote her copy, then she learnt some verses ofa poem called "Lucy Gray," and last of all mother found her a big map ofWestmoreland, the county in which the mountains are, and they had a mostdelightful geography lesson. Mother pretended to take Milly a drive allabout the mountains, and made her find out their names, and the names ofthe towns and the lakes, beginning with Lake Windermere. Olly wasinterested too, for Mrs. Norton told them a great many things about theplaces, and made quite a story out of it.
"He was quite sure that h-a-y spelt 'ham' and s-a-w spelt'was.'"]
"Why, mother, I never could go all that long way all at once--_really_,could I?" asked Milly, when they had been all round the mountains, inand out and round about.
"No, Milly, not quite," said Mrs. Norton, laughing, "but it's very easyto go a long way in a pretendy drive. It would only take us about tenminutes that way to get to the other side of the world."
"How long would it take really?" asked Olly.
"About three months."
"If we could fly up, and up, ever so far," said Olly, standing ontiptoe, and stretching out his little arms as high as they would reach,"it wouldn't take us long. Mother, don't you wish you was a bird?"
"No, I don't think so, Olly; why do you?"
"Because I should like to go so _krick_. Mother, the fly-catchers do flyso krick; I can't see them sometimes when they're flying, they go sofast. Oh, I do wish father would let me get up a ladder to look atthem."
"No Olly, you'll frighten them," said Milly, putting on her wise face."Besides, father says you're too little, and you'd tumble down."
Olly looked as if he didn't believe a word of it, as he generally didwhen Milly talked wisely to him; but just then he found that mother hadput into his lap a whole basketful of letters to tear up, and thatinterested him so much that he forgot the fly-catchers. Nurse cut out amost fashionable blue dress for Katie, and Milly was quite happy all therest of the morning in running up the seams and hemming the bottom. Sothe morning passed away. After dinner there were the toys to play with,and Katie's frock to try on, for nurse had taken a turn at the bodywhile Milly had been making the skirt. It fitted very well, and Millyhad only the band to put on and the sleeves to make before it would bequite finished. Then nurse promised to put a little white lace round theneck, and cut out a blue sash, that Katie might be quite turned into anelegant young lady. Tea came very soon, and when it was cleared awayfather and mother came into the big kitchen without a fireplace, next tothe children's room, and they all had a splendid romp. Mr. Norton madehimself into a tiger, with a tiger-skin in the hall, that Uncle Richardhad brought home from India, and Olly shot him all over with awalking-stick from the tip of his nose to the tip of his tail. When theywere tired of this, mother set them to play hide-and-seek, and Milly hidherself in such out-of-the-way cupboards, and squeezed herself into suchsmall corners, that mother said she was like a needle in a bundle ofhay--there was no finding her.
Seven o'clock came before they had time to think about it, and thechildren went chattering and skipping up to bed, though on fine eveningsthey had been staying up much later. How the rain did rattle on thewindow while they were undressing.
"Oh, you tiresome rain," said Milly, standing by the window in hernightdress, and gazing up into the sky. "Where does it all come from, Iwonder? Won't it be wet to-morrow, Nana? and oh, what is that roaringover there?"
"That's the beck," said nurse, who was brushing Olly's hair, and tryinghard to make him stand still for two minutes.
"The beck! why, what's the matter with it?"
"It's the rain has made it so full I suppose," said nurse. "To-morrow,gardener says, it'll be over the lawn if the rain goes on."
"Oh, but it mustn't go on," said Milly. "Now, rain, dear rain, goodrain, do go away to-night, right away up into the mountains. There'splenty of room for you up there, and down here we don't want you a bit.So do be polite and go away."
But the rain didn't see any good reason for going away, in spite ofMilly's pretty speeches, and next morning there was the same patter onthe window, the same gray sky and dripping garden. After breakfast therewas just a hope of its clearing up. For about an hour the rain seemed toget less and the clouds a little brighter. But it soon came on again asfast as ever, and the poor children were very much disappointed.
"Mother," said Milly, when they had settled down to their lessons againin the drawing-room, "when we get back to Willingham, do you know what Ishall do?"
"No, Milly."
"I shall ask you to take me to see that old gentleman--you know who Imean--who told you about the rain. And I shall say to him, 'please, Mr.Old Gentleman, at first I thought you were quite wrong about the rain,but afterwards I thought you were quite right, and it does raindreadfully much in the mountains.'"
"Very well, Milly. But you have only just had a taste of what the raincan do in the lakes you know, so far. Father and I have been heresometimes when it has rained two or three weeks without stopping."
"Oh dear!" said Milly, looking extremely melancholy. "I like themountains very much, mother; but _do_ you think we'd better come toRavensnest again after this year?"
"Oh you ungrateful little woman!" said Mrs. Norton, whose love for theplace was so real that Milly's speech gave her quite a pang. "Have youforgotten all your happy sunshiny days here, just because it has rainedfor two? Why, when I was a little girl, and used to come here, the rainydays never made me love the place a bit the less. I always used to thinkthe fine days made up."
"But then, mother, you were a nice little girl," said Milly, throwingher arms round her mother's neck and kissing her. "Now, I don't feel abit nice this morning. It makes me so cross not to be able to go out andget flowers and wild strawberries. And you know at home it hardly everrains all day."
"Gardener says sometimes it rains all over the road," interrupted Olly,"and people can't walk along, and they have to go right up on themountains to get past the water place. And sometimes they have to get aboat to take people across. Do you think we shall have to go in a boatto church on Sunday, mother?"
"Well, we're a long way off that yet, Olly. It will take a good manydays' rain to flood the roads so deep that we can't get along them, andthis is only the second rainy day. Come, I don't think we've got muchto complain of. Now suppose, instead of doing all your lessons t
hismorning, you were presently to write to Jacky and Francis--you write toJacky, Milly, and Olly to Francis. Don't you think that would be a goodthing?"
"Oh yes, yes!" cried Milly, shutting up her copybook in a great hurry."They'll be so much astonished, mother, for we didn't _promise_ to writeto them. I don't believe they ever get any letters."
The children had a great deal of affection and some secret pity forthese playfellows of theirs, who had a sick mother, and who did not gethalf the pleasures and amusements that they did. And, as I have alreadytold you, they could not bear Miss Chesterton, the little boys' aunt,who lived with them. They felt sure that Jacky and Francis must beunhappy, only because they had to live with Miss Chesterton.
This was Milly's letter when it was done. Milly could only write veryslowly, in rather big hand, so that her letters were never very long:
MY DEAR JACKY--Don't you think it very odd getting a letter from me? It is nearly a fortnight since we came here. At first it was _very_ nice. We went up the mountains, and Aunt Emma took us in a boat on the lake. And we gathered some wild strawberries, only some of them were quite white--not red a bit. But now it has begun to rain, and we don't like it at all. Perhaps we sha'n't be able to get home because the rain will cover up the roads. It is _very_ dull staying in, only mother makes us such nice plays. Good-bye, Jacky. I send my love to Francis. Mind you don't forget us.
Your loving little friend, MILLY.
Olly wrote a much longer letter, that is to say, mother wrote for him,and he told her what to say, and as this was a much easier way ofwriting than Milly's way, he got on very fast, and Mrs. Norton had towrite as quickly as she could, to keep up with him. And this was whatOlly had to say:
MY DEAR FRANCIS--I wonder what you'll say to-morrow morning when the postman brings you this letter. I hope you'll write back, because it won't be fair if you don't. It isn't such fun here now because it does rain so. Milly and I are always telling the rain to go away, but it won't--though it did at home. Last week we went out in a boat, and I rowed. I rowed a great way, much farther than Milly. We went very slow when Milly rowed. It was very jolly at the picnic. Aunt Emma gave me some cake, and mother gave me some bread and jam. Nana won't let us have cake and jam both, when we have tea at home. Aunt Emma told us a story about King Arthur. I don't believe you ever heard it. The water-fairies took him away, and his friend wanted to go too, but the king said 'No! you must stop behind.' Milly cried because she felt sad about the king. I didn't cry, because I'm a little boy. Mother says you won't understand about the story, and she says we must tell it you when we get home. So we will, only perhaps we sha'n't remember. Do you do lessons now? We don't do any--only when it rains. Milly's writing a letter to Jacky--mine's much longer than hers.
Your little friend, OLLY.
Then came the putting up the letters, addressing them, and stampingthem, all of which the children enjoyed very much, and by the time theywere laid on the hall table ready to go to the post it was nearlydinner-time.
How the beck did roar that afternoon. And when the children looked outfrom the drawing-room window they could see a little flood on the lawn,where the water had come over the side of the stream. While they werehaving their tea, with mother sitting by, working and chattering tothem, they heard a knock at the door, and when they opened it there wasfather standing in the unused kitchen, with the water running off hiswaterproof coat, making little streams all over the stone floor.
"I have been down to look at the river," he said to Mrs. Norton. "Keepoff, children! I'm much too wet to touch. Such rain! It does know howto come down here! The water's over the road just by thestepping-stones. John Backhouse says if it goes on another twenty-fourhours like this, there'll be no getting to Wanwick by the road, onfoot."
"Father," said Milly, looking at him with a very solemn face, "wouldn'tit be dreadful if it went on raining and raining, and if the river cameup and up, right up to the drive and into the hall, and we all had tosit upstairs, and the butcher couldn't bring us any meat, and JohnBackhouse couldn't bring us any milk, and we all _died_ of hunger."
"Then they would put us into some black boxes," said Olly, cheerfully,with his mouth full of bread and butter, "and they would put the blackboxes into some boats, and take us right away and bury uskrick--wouldn't they, mother?"
"Well, but--" said Mr. Norton, who had by this time got rid of his wetcoat, and was seated by Milly, helping himself to some tea, "suppose wegot into the boats before we were dead, and rowed away to Windermerestation?"
"Oh no! father," said Milly, who always liked her stories to be asgloomy as possible, "they wouldn't know anything about us till we weredead you know, and then they'd come and find us, and be _very_ sorry forus, and say, 'Oh dear! oh dear! what a pity!'"
Olly began to look so dismal as Milly's fancies grew more and moremelancholy, that Mrs. Norton took to laughing at them all. What did theyknow about Westmoreland rain indeed. This was nothing--just nothing atall; she _could_ remember some floods in the wintertime, when she was alittle girl, and used to stay with Aunt Emma and great-grandmamma; butas for this, why, it was a good summer wetting, and that was all.
A romp sent the children to bed in excellent spirits again. This timeboth Milly and Olly stood at the window together, and told the rain tobe sure to go to Spain that night, and never come back again while theywere at Ravensnest.
"Or you might go to Willingham, you know, dear Mr. Rain," said Milly; "Idaresay mother's flowers want a good watering. And there's Spot--youmight give her a good washing--she _can_ wash herself, but she won't.Only we don't want you here, Mr. Rain."
But what an obstinate disagreeable Mr. Rain it was! All that night itwent on pouring, till the little beck in the garden was so full it wasalmost choked, and could only get along by sputtering and foaming as ifsome wicked water-fairies were driving it along and tormenting it. Andall the little pools on the mountain, the "tarns," as Becky and Tizacalled them, filled up, and the rain made the mountain itself so wetthat it was like one big bog all over.
When the children woke up the flood on the lawn was growing bigger, andit seemed to them as if the house and garden were all wrapped up in awet white cloud-blanket. They could not see the mountain at all from thewindow, it was all covered with a thick white mist, and the dark firtrees in the garden looked sad and drooping, as if the weight ofraindrops was too much for them to carry.
The children had made up their minds so completely the night before thatit _couldn't_ rain more than two days running, that they felt as if theycould hardly be expected to bear this third wet morning cheerfully.Nurse found them cross and out of spirits at breakfast. Even a prospectof asking Becky and Tiza to tea did not bring any smiles to theirforlorn little faces. It would be no fun having anybody to tea. Theycouldn't go out, and there was nothing amusing indoors.
After breakfast, Olly set to work to get into mischief, as he generallydid when he felt dull. Nurse discovered him smearing Katie's cheeks withraspberry jam "to make them get red kricker" as he said, and alas! someof the jam had stuck to the new silk frock, and spoilt all its smartfresh look.
When Milly found it out she began to cry, and when Mrs. Norton came inshe saw a heap on the floor, which was Milly, sobbing, while Olly satbeside her with his mouth wide open, as if he was a good deal astonishedat the result of his first attempt at doctoring.
"Pick up the pieces, old woman," said Mrs. Norton, taking hold of theheap and lifting it up. "What's the matter with you both?"
"Olly's spoilt my doll," sobbed Milly, "and it _will_ go on raining--andI feel so--so--dull."
"I didn't spoil her doll, mother," cried Olly, eagerly. "I only rubbedsome jam on its cheeks to make them a nicey pink--only some of it_would_ sticky her dress--I didn't mean to."
"How would you like some jam rubbed on your cheeks, sir?" said Mrs.Norton, who could scarcely help laughing at poor Katie's appearance whennurse handed the d
oll to her. "Suppose you leave Milly's dolls alone forthe future; but cheer up, Milly! I think I can make Katie very nearlyright again. Come upstairs to my room and we'll try."
After a good deal of sponging and rubbing, and careful drying by thekitchen fire, Katie came very nearly right again, and then Mrs. Nortontried whether some lessons would drive the rain out of the children'sheads. But the lessons did not go well. It was all Milly could do tohelp crying every time she got a figure wrong in her sum, and Olly tookabout ten minutes to read two lines of his reading-book. Olly had justbegun his sums, and Milly was standing up to say some poetry to hermother, looking a woebegone little figure, with pale cheeks and heavyeyes, when suddenly there was a noise of wheels outside, and both thechildren turned to look out of the window.
"A carriage! a carriage!" shouted Olly, jumping down, and running to thewindow.
There, indeed, was one of the shut-up "cars," as the Westmoreland peoplecall them, coming up the Ravensnest drive.
"It's Aunt Emma," said Mrs. Norton, starting up, "how good of her tocome over on such a day. Run, children, and open the front door."
Down flew Milly and Olly, tumbling over one another in their hurry; butfather had already thrown the door open, and who should they seestepping down the carriage-steps but Aunt Emma herself, with her softgray hair shining under her veil, and her dear kind face as gentle andcheery as ever.
"Aunt Emma! Aunt Emma!" shouted Olly, dancing up to her, and throwinghis arms round her, "_are_ you come to tell us about old MotherQuiverquake?"
"You gipsy, don't strangle me! Well, Lucy dear, here I am. Will you haveme to dinner? I thought we'd all be company for each other this bad day.Why, Milly, what have you been doing to your cheeks?"
"She's been crying," said Olly, in spite of Milly's pulling him by thesleeve to be quiet, "because I stickened her doll."
"Well, and quite right too. Dolls weren't made to be stickied. But now,who's going to carry my bag upstairs? Take it gently, Milly, it's got mycap inside, and if you crumple my cap I shall have to sit with my headin a bandbox at dinner. Old ladies are _never_ seen without their capsyou know. The most dreadful things would happen if they were! Olly, youmay put my umbrella away. There now, I'll go to mother's room and takeoff my things."