CHAPTER V
Fair Maids of February
Mavis and Merle had lunch with Uncle David in the parlour at Grimbal'sFarm. It was a quaint, old-fashioned house-place, with a horsehair sofa,a cabinet full of best china, some enlarged family photographs in giltframes, a very ancient piano, and a round table. It had the faint,musty, shut-up scent that clings to a room which is used only once aweek, but a blazing fire of logs, and a bunch of snowdrops on the table,helped to give it a more occupied air. To the girls it was all part oftheir delightful new experience at Chagmouth. Everything was differentfrom home, and therefore interesting, and when Mrs. Penruddock broughtin a bowl of Devonshire cream with the roasted apples they felt theywere indeed in a land of plenty. When the meal was over, Dr. Tremayneretired into his dispensary to make up medicines, telling the girls towait about for him and not go too far away, as he would soon be startingon his round, and would take them in the car.
Of course they did not want to stay in the house, so, accepting Mrs.Penruddock's invitation "Go just wherever you like", they started toexplore the farm premises. Clumps of snowdrops were growing among thegrass in the orchard under old apple trees, some of whose branches heldboughs of mistletoe. Bulbs were pushing up in the garden, and the daphnemezereon was out already in the warm corner near the bee-hives. Throughthe stackyard flowed the stream which was such a feature of Chagmouth,and here its glittering, tumbling waters had been harnessed to turn awaterwheel that worked a churn, a turnip-cutter, and other farmimplements. The wheel at present was still, and the girls could go quiteclose and examine it. It was a picturesque affair, yellow with lichenand moss, and with green ferns growing on the wall against which thewater dripped. It was so utterly different from the unlovely, whirling,modern machinery to which they were accustomed in Whinburn that theyclimbed down the steep, narrow steps to get a nearer view. Birds wereflitting hither and thither like dainty water nixies, great sprays ofperiwinkle trailed down the banks, and the stream danced by with agurgling murmur as if it were trying to put some story into words.Mavis, standing on the lowest of the steps, and leaning against a bladeof the waterwheel, threw sticks on to its bosom and watched them as theybobbed along on their way towards the sea.
"Hello!" called a voice from above. "If you don't want to get knockedinto the water you'd better come up. The wheel will be turning inanother moment. We didn't know you were down there."
The girls made a hurried ascent of the steps, and came scrambling upinto the stackyard. The stream might have its attractions, but they hadno wish to try a February bath in it. At the top, by the door of thechurning-shed, stood a boy of perhaps sixteen, a dark, good-looking boy,with clear brown eyes that sparkled and twinkled like the dancing waterbelow. He held out a strong hand and helped them up the last of theawkward steps.
"Dr. Tremayne sent me to look for you," he volunteered, "and a hunt I'vehad. I thought you must have gone down the town. I wouldn't have foundyou, only I heard your voices. He's ready to start, and in two mindswhether to set off without you or not."
"Is he waiting? Oh, I'm so sorry! Where's the car? On the road by thefront door? Can we cut across the orchard here? Oh, thanks! We won't betwo seconds," and Mavis, scrambling over a fence, made a bee-line forthe house in hot haste.
"We'd no idea it was so late," added Merle, scurrying after her withonly half a glance at the knight who had come to their rescue.
The boy stood watching their race across the orchard with an amused lookin his dark eyes, then he picked up a piece of rope and went away downthe stackyard to the stables, whistling softly to himself as he walked.
The girls arrived at the front door of the farm at the very eleventhhour, for Dr. Tremayne had started the engine, and was on the point ofsetting forth for his visits. They scrambled into the car, pouring outbreathless apologies.
"You were nearly left behind," he commented. "I've a long round andcouldn't wait, but I thought you'd like to come with me to theSanatorium; there's such a glorious view up there. It would have been apity to miss it. Yes, put that scarf round your neck, Mavis, certainly!"as a scrimmage went on between the two girls, Merle trying to forcewraps upon her sister, which the latter fiercely resisted.
"I hate to be eternally coddled," protested Mavis.
"You know what Mother said. You must put on extra things in the car,especially when you're so hot with running. She told me to make you."
"Right-o! only don't quite smother me, please," agreed Mavis, giving upthe struggle and submitting to the warm scarf. "Anything for a quietlife. Do keep still, and sit more forward, can't you? Uncle David hasn'troom to drive. Are you going straight to the Sanatorium now, Uncle?"
"I must call at The Warren first to see Mrs. Glyn Williams. That's thehouse, the white one among the trees. They've a beautiful shelteredgarden there. I wish I could grow early vegetables like they do. Theyseem to escape all the frosts. It's the most forward bit of land in thecountryside."
In another minute they had passed the great gates and were motoring upthe laurel-bordered drive to the house. Dr. Tremayne stopped his car onthe carriage sweep opposite the glass front door, drew off his thickgauntlet gloves, took his case of instruments, and rang the bell.
"You'd rather stay with the car than come inside?" he asked the girls."I shall probably be perhaps twenty minutes--not longer, I hope! Walkabout, Mavis, if you feel chilly. I'm sure Mrs.----" but at that momentthe butler opened the door, and the rest of the doctor's sentence wentunspoken.
For a space of five minutes the Ramsays stayed quietly in the car, thenMerle began to grow restless. She amused herself by inspecting thevarious levers.
"I could start as easily as anything," she announced airily.
"Oh, Merle, _don't_! Uncle David will be so angry if you play any ofyour pranks with the car. Let us get out and walk about till he comesback. I'm tired of sitting still."
Anxious to keep her sister away from temptation, Mavis hustled her outof the car on to the drive, and began to pace up and down the carriagesweep. But this did not content lively Merle. She wanted to sample thegarden.
"Uncle David was just going to tell us to go when he went indoors," shecontended, and there seemed so much truth in her argument that Mavisyielded, though slightly against her better judgment.
It was so warm that they took off their coats and left them inside thecar, then they selected an interesting-looking path among the bushes,and started to explore. Certainly it was a delightful garden; it hadlawns and shrubberies and flower-borders, and a brook with a rusticbridge over it, and a glade that looked a veritable fairies'dancing-place. Mavis and Merle were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Theywere in no particular hurry, because they thought when Uncle David cameout of the house and missed them he would sound his motor-horn as asignal for them to return. They walked on, therefore, some considerableway along the course of the little brook. Quite suddenly they heardvoices, and from a path slightly ahead two girls turned into the glade.The Ramsays remembered them instantly. They had been present at thedancing-class yesterday, and it was indeed the elder of them who hadbehaved with such extreme rudeness to Merle in the ladies' chain. Therecognition seemed to be mutual. They came forward briskly towards Mavisand Merle, who stood still, feeling decidedly caught, but determined tohold their own.
"Hello! What are you doing here in our garden?" began the elder girlinhospitably.
"Looking at your flowers," answered Merle.
"Well, I must say that's rather cool. Don't you know you'retrespassing?"
"No, I don't!"
"Well, you are at any rate. These are private grounds."
"So I suppose, but we're not doing them any harm by walking round them."
"Oh, Merle, _do_ let us explain properly," put in Mavis, trying to stopthis unseemly fencing. "We came with our uncle, Dr. Tremayne, and we gottired of sitting in the car waiting for him, so we took a walk. Wedidn't think anyone would mind."
"Is Dr. Tremayne your uncle? Why didn't you say so before?"
"You
never gave us a chance!" snapped Merle. "Of course he's our uncle.There goes his hooter. We must scoot back, because he'll be in a hurryto start."
"I can show you a short cut," volunteered the younger girl, speaking forthe first time, and running in front she led the way, between bushes andthrough a vegetable garden, back to the carriage sweep opposite thefront door.
Here Dr. Tremayne was hooting loudly to recall his wandering nieces, andlooked not a little relieved at their appearance.
"I thought I'd lost you again," he said, as they came up. "So you'vebeen making friends with Babbie? Where's Gwen? Is her wrist better? Iwanted to look at it. Yes, fetch her, please, Babbie! I may as well seeher while I'm here."
Mavis and Merle, with eyes fixed on the distant landscape, sat in thecar while Dr. Tremayne made a hurried examination of Gwen Williams'swrist. They did not look in her direction as they drove away, thoughthey nodded a stately good-bye to Babbie.
"Think of meeting _that_ girl here," whispered Merle to Mavis. "Isn'tshe odious?"
"I wish we'd never gone into their garden," Mavis whispered back. "Ifthere's anything in the world I hate it's being caught."
The brief episode had upset them both. They did not care to explain itto Uncle David, and sat rather silent and glum as he drove up the roadto the Sanatorium. It was not flattering to have been taken fortrespassing trippers, which was evidently what Gwen had supposed them tobe. Her reception had certainly been most impolite, and was calculatedto hurt anybody's feelings. They cheered up a little when they reachedthe top of the hill, and began to forget about it, for in front lay sucha view of cliff and sea and sky as to send all cobwebs flying away tothe region where dismal things belong. The Sanatorium had been built ina glorious situation, and surely no place in Devon had a more beautifulprospect from its open windows. Dr. Tremayne halted outside the gate fora few moments, and pointed out to his nieces certain distant features ofinterest, such as the lighthouse, and Port Sennen harbour. He wasexpatiating upon the clearness of the afternoon, when a voice called himby name, and, turning round, the girls saw, hurrying along the roadafter them, the boy who had helped them up the steps from the waterwheelat Grimbal's Farm. His dark face looked hot. He had evidently beenrunning fast.
"I hoped I'd just catch you, Doctor," he exclaimed breathlessly. "Youleft this in the surgery, and I was sure you'd want it."
"My stethoscope! Great Scott! I thought it was in my pocket. Thanks,Bevis! I should have had to go back for it. I suppose you came by thecliff path?"
"Yes, it saves half a mile at least."
"You're going home that way? I wonder if my nieces would care to go withyou for the sake of the walk. Girls, would you rather wait in the caroutside the Sanatorium or try the path along the cliffs to Chagmouth?Bevis would act guide."
After their previous experience of waiting for Uncle David, Mavis andMerle did not hesitate a moment, and accepted their escort withalacrity. A ramble would be far more fun than sitting still in the car,or wandering surreptitiously round a strange garden. Dr. Tremayne was ina hurry, so the moment they had scrambled out he pulled hisstarting-lever and set off again.
"We'll meet at the farm. Mrs. Penruddock will give you some tea. I shallbe back by five, so be ready for me then," he called, as he drove awayalong the road through the Sanatorium grounds.
Left behind, Mavis and Merle felt their first and most obvious duty wasto make friends with the boy who was to act as their guide back toChagmouth. Beyond the fact that his name was Bevis they knew absolutelynothing about him. They wondered whether he belonged to Grimbal's Farm,or was merely a visitor there. His dark, alert face and his speech andgeneral bearing marked him as utterly different from homely Mr. and Mrs.Penruddock. Merle, calling up a mental vision of the stout, ruddy-hairedwoman who had charge of the surgery, and the slow, heavy-featured farmerwhom she had seen in the stackyard, decided hastily, "They can't be hisfather and mother!" Whoever he might be he was a handsome boy, with alook of natural distinction about him, that "stamp of the gods", whichis the hall-mark of a noble mind, quite irrespective of the accident ofbirth. His dark hair had a crisp curl in it, and his mouth heldbeautiful curves when he smiled. Merle, who had lately taken severalviolent prejudices, in this instance decided hotly in his favour. Merlenever liked people by halves. All her world consisted of foes or chums.
Bevis, who had readily accepted the office of guide, seemed doing hisbest to make himself agreeable. He led the way along a path across somefields and on to the headland that skirted the sea. There was a trackhere among the gorse and dead bracken, so faint indeed that the girlswould not have found it for themselves, though Bevis walked alongconfidently. Below them lay the sea, and great jagged rocks, round whichcrowds of gulls were whirling and calling, and here and there flew acormorant, like a black sheep among the white flock, diving occasionallyunder the waves in quest of fish. There could hardly be a pleasantercompanion than Bevis. He knew the names of all the birds, and could tellwhere he had found their nests. He pointed out two distant black specks,that to the girls might have been anything, but which he assured themrepresented a pair of choughs that built every year on the cliffs.
"We tried to get some eggs," he explained, "but the nest was in such anawkward place, we couldn't reach it even with a rope."
"Do you mean to tell me you'd let yourself dangle over the edge there tocollect eggs?" asked Mavis. "Don't you turn dizzy?"
"Not a bit. As long as I know the rope isn't frayed, I'm all right.There's something rather jolly about hanging in mid-air. I feel like abird myself. I once got a hooded crow's egg from that cliff over there.I gave it to our school museum."
"Do you go to school near here?" asked Merle, hoping to draw someinformation. But Bevis shook his head.
"I've left now," he said briefly, and changed the subject.
As they neared Chagmouth the track they had followed led them down theside of the cliff to where some allotment gardens lay under the shelterof the headland. Many of these were neglected and uncultivated, but afew showed signs of recent digging. Bevis, pausing by a small woodengate, pointed downwards.
"That's ours," he explained, "and if you don't mind I want to fetch myknife. I believe I left it there yesterday when I was working. I won'tbe a minute if you can wait."
"Oh, do let us come too, please!" urged the girls.
So they all went down, scrambling along a kind of sheep track till theyreached the level patch of rich soil below. The little plot of land wasmostly devoted to vegetables, but it also held a few fruit-trees andsome flowers. There was a fallen stump in its midst, which made acapital seat, and here the girls settled themselves to rest while Bevislooked for his knife. Snowdrops grew in profusion around them, liftingtall stalks and pure white heads above the herbage through which theyhad pushed. The late afternoon sun just touched the roofs of the littlefishing-town below, though the beach lay in shadow. Up among the woodssome glass windows gleamed like gold.
"Is that The Warren, where we went with Uncle David?" asked Merle, asBevis came back, pocketing his knife. "Whose place is it? It has lovelygrounds."
"Yes, that's The Warren sure enough. Whose place is it? Why, it belongsto General Talland. He's the landlord of most of Chagmouth."
"I thought some people named Williams lived there?"
"So they do, but they don't own the village, however much they may thinkit. They only _rent_ the house--it's not theirs. We Chagmouth folksdon't want one of your fine society squires thrust down our throats.We'll manage our own affairs."
Bevis spoke bitterly, with a look towards the house on the wooded hillthat sent no goodwill towards its occupants. Merle, burning to relateher experiences at The Warren, was about to ask more, but Bevis turnedabruptly away. He was friendly, but so plainly reserved that nobody withan ounce of tact would have tried to force his confidence. Even Merle,not usually over-discreet, had the sense to keep back the dozenquestions that rose to her lips. Their companion was bending among thegrass and brambles picking snowdrops. He gathere
d the finest ones, withthe longest stalks, arranged them into two exactly equal bunches, thenoffered them shyly to the girls.
"We call them 'Fair Maids of February' about here," he said. "It's thefirst of February to-day, and you're the 'fair maids', so you ought tohave some of your own flowers if you care to take them."
"Oh, thanks!" (Mavis and Merle were flattered by the compliment). "We'lllove to have them. We'll take them home in the car. What beauties theyare! I never saw such big ones before. Did you plant them here?"
"I put a few bulbs down years ago, and they've spread. They will if younever touch them. Shall we go on now? Mother'll have some tea ready foryou, I expect. The Doctor generally gets his at the Sanatorium. Ipromised to make up some medicines for him, so I must hurry back."
The girls followed, considerably mystified. Bevis's connection withGrimbal's Farm was a puzzle. He left them in the stackyard and plungedinto one of the barns, and later on they caught a glimpse of his dark,curly head through the door of the dispensary. They did not see himagain before they left. Mrs. Penruddock, kind but too busy forconversation, brought the tray into the parlour and left them to havetheir tea, and they had scarcely finished eating saffron-cake andhard-bake when Dr. Tremayne arrived, in a violent hurry to get back toDurracombe. So they scrambled into their coats and wraps, picked uptheir bunches of snowdrops, and took their seats in the car, and nextmoment they were off up the steep hill that led out of the ravine.Before they whirled round the corner they turned their heads for onelast peep at Chagmouth. The little town lay huddled in twilight, and thesea behind was dim as the sky, but the brook purred joyously on itspebbly course among the gardens, and the faint scent of burningdriftwood was wafted up from below.
"This day's going to be specially marked in my diary," murmured Merle."It's been a day of days."
"I feel somehow as if it were the beginning of something else," answeredMavis. "Uncle David, you'll bring us here again, won't you?"
"Any Saturday that's fine."
"Then I shall simply live for fine Saturdays and Chagmouth. It's theloveliest place I've ever seen. I don't believe there's anything elselike it in the whole of the wide world, or anywhere else out ofParadise. That's how I feel about it!"