The Old Pincushion; or, Aunt Clotilda's Guests

  CHAPTER X.

  A PLAGUE OF FEATHERS.

  Decorative A]

  n hour or two later, Miss Clotilda, having completed her housekeepingarrangements for the day, went up to Kathie's room to see what she wasabout. Neville had gone off for a walk, as the rain was now slight, andof course, as he said himself, 'for a boy it was different.'

  'Poor, dear child!' said Miss Clotilda, as she reached Kathleen's door;'I hope she isn't feeling dull, all alone.'

  The door was locked.

  'Kathie,' she called, 'it is I--aunty.'

  A scattering inside, and then Kathleen's voice, sounding rather odd,replied, 'In a moment, aunty. Oh dear, oh dear! I wish I'--

  'What is the matter, Kathie? Open at once, my dear; you alarm me!' MissClotilda exclaimed.

  Thus adjured, Kathleen had no choice. She drew the bolt; Miss Clotildaentered.

  WHAT _WAS_ THE MATTER?]

  What _was_ the matter? For an instant or two she was too bewildered totell. The room seemed filled with fluff; a sort of dust was in the air;Kathie's own dress and hair looked as if they had been snowed upon;every piece of furniture in the room was covered with what on closerinspection proved to be feathers! And Kathleen herself, the image ofdespair, stood in helpless distress.

  'Oh, aunty,' she said, reminding one of the merchant in 'The ArabianNights,' when he had let the genii out of the bottle, 'I _can't_ getthem in again.' Poor Kathie--her genii were to be reckoned by thousands!

  'What is it? What _have_ you been doing? Feathers!' exclaimed MissClotilda, stooping to examine a whitey-grey heap on the floor, which,disturbed even by her gentle movements, forthwith flew up in clouds,choking and blinding her. '_Feathers_--my dear child!'

  'Oh, aunty,' said Kathleen, bursting into tears, 'I never knew they weresuch horrid things. It's my pillow, and one off Neville's bed, and twooff yours, and one off the big green-room bed, and--I got them all inhere;' and then amidst her sobs she went on to tell her aunt of the oldwoman's story and the search it had suggested. 'I didn't mean to emptythe pillows, but they kept coming out so when I put my arm in to feel,and I thought at last it would be easier to shake them all out and fillthe covers again, so that I couldn't have missed even a small piece ofpaper. But it's no good; and oh, I've made such a mess!'

  There was no denying this last fact. Miss Clotilda hurried Kathie out ofthe room--for, as everybody knows, the fluff of feathers is reallyinjurious to the throat and lungs--and hurried Martha up to see whatcould be done. It ended in a woman having to be sent for from thevillage to re-imprison the flighty feathers in their cases; but evenafter this was done, Kathleen could not sleep in her room that night.

  'I am so sorry, aunty,' she said, so humbly that kind Miss Clotildacould not but forgive her, though she made her promise for the future toattempt no more 'searches' without consulting her elders.

  'Of course I'll promise that and more than that,' said Kathie, as shedried her eyes; 'I won't search _at all_ for that nasty will. I didn'twant to, only I thought Philippa would say I should have tried to findit. But I'll just show her it's no use.'

  And Neville was so sorry to see her distress that he did not even remindher of _his_ having told her that searching the pillows would be no use;which, in my opinion, was truly generous of him.

  All troubles were, however, cast into the shade when the next morningbrought a letter from Mr. Wentworth, Philippa's uncle, most heartilythanking Miss Clotilda for her kindness, and eagerly accepting herinvitation. Mr. Wentworth wrote that he had been quite distressed at theidea of sending the poor child back to school, but till Miss Clotilda'sproposal came he had seen no help for it. He went on to say that hewould bring Philippa himself to Hafod if Miss Clotilda could send tomeet her there, but that he could only make the journey _at once_. If'Thursday' were too soon for Philippa to come, would Miss Powystelegraph to say so--in that case he feared the visit would have to beput off till he could hear of an escort.

  'Thursday!' Miss Clotilda exclaimed, 'that is to-morrow. Telegraph! Itis plain Mr. Wentworth does not know much of this part of the country.There is no telegraph office nearer than Boyneth, and that is half-wayto Hafod.'

  'But, aunty,' said Kathleen, looking up from the little scrap to herselfwhich Philippa had slipped into her uncle's letter, 'need you think oftelegraphing? Mayn't she come to-morrow? She is so happy--oh, aunty, doread her dear little letter.'

  Aunty did not need much persuasion.

  'If we can get things ready, and if Mr. Mortimer can lend us hiswaggonette,' she said hesitatingly. 'There is your room still upset, youknow, Kathie,' at which Kathleen grew very red; 'and I don't know'--

  'Can't I go to Mr. Mortimer's and ask him?' said Neville. 'It isn't veryfar, and I can find the way, I'm sure.'

  'That might do,' said his aunt; 'and if the waggonette is not to be had,perhaps he would lend us the pony-carriage. That would do for two,besides the one driving.'

  So it turned out. The waggonette was required to meet friends of theMortimers themselves, arriving to-morrow, but Miss Clotilda was welcometo the pony-cart, and the strong pony which drew it would be quite ablefor the two journeys, with a good rest between. And the little girl'sluggage might come up with that of the Mortimers' friends, and be leftat Ty-gwyn on the way.

  There was only one drawback; Kathleen could not go to the station. MissClotilda would drive, and Neville must go with her to open gates, etc.,in case of need. And Kathleen must content herself for staying at homeby adorning Philippa's room with flowers, as Neville had suggested.

  'Only, whatever you do, please leave the pillows alone my dear,' saidMiss Clotilda, as they drove off the next morning.

  Kathie was quite cured of searching for the lost will, though not sorryto be able to assure her eager little friend that she really _had_ doneso. The day passed quickly enough, however; for, to make up for thetrouble she had given the day before, she set herself to be particularlyuseful to Martha. And by seven o'clock, the time at which thepony-carriage might be _begun_ to be looked for--for Philippa was tocome by a much earlier train than the London express--Kathleen, havinghelped to set the tea-table and bake the cakes, and having given thelast touch to Philippa's little room, was hopping about in front of thehouse, looking very neat and nice in a clean white frock, her face andeyes, indeed her whole little person, in a perfect glow of happyexpectation.

  Nor was her patience long put to the test. It was not more than twentyminutes past seven when approaching wheels were to be heard. Kathiescuttered back into the house; she wanted to be standing just within thedoor, not outside, when they arrived; and in another half minute therethey were. Neville had jumped down and was helping out a little familiarfigure, while Miss Clotilda smiled brightly at the sight of thechildren's delight.

  'My dear old Phil!' 'My darling Kathie!' and for a moment or two hugsand kisses had it all to themselves. Then Miss Clotilda got out, andNeville got in again to drive the pony home, with many charges to bequick.

  'Tea is quite ready,' Kathie called after him; 'and I'm so hungry that Ican fancy what you must all be.'

  'Take Philippa up to her room, Kathie,' said her aunt. 'Her luggagewon't be here for an hour or two, but you can lend her a pair ofslippers, I daresay.'

  'Oh, mine would be far too big, aunty; but you may be sure Phil has gota pair in her bag,' said Kathie, laughing. 'She's a regular old maid,you know;' and she held up the bag in question for her aunt to see.'Your room will just suit you, Phil,' she ran on; 'it's as tiny asyourself and as neat as a pin.'

  And Philippa's exclamations of delight when they entered it, wellrewarded Kathleen for all the trouble she had taken.

  'Oh, Kathie,' said the little girl, 'what a _perfect_ place Ty-gwyn is!and how kind and sweet your aunt is, and how good of you all to have me;and oh, Kathie, have you hunted well for the will?'

  'Don't speak of it--horrid thing!' said Kathleen with a grimace. 'Yes, Ihave hunted for it--all to please you, Phil. I'll just tell you what Idid,' and she proceeded to relate t
he unfortunate experience with thepillows.

  Philippa was deeply interested.

  'I don't think it's likely she hid it in a pillow,' she remarked. 'But Ihave such a feeling that it is somewhere in the house. I am sorry youdon't mean to look any more, Kathie.'

  'Oh well, don't talk about it any more just now,' said Kathleen. 'Wewant to be as happy as ever we can be. If only the weather is fine, andit does look better to-day,--oh, you don't know how it rained yesterday,and the day before worse still,--we can go such lovely walks. You knowwe're quite near the sea here--up there from that hill we can see it,'and she pointed out of the window.

  'Can we really?' said Philippa. 'How nice! I do think it is theloveliest place I ever saw, Kathie. How I do wish it was going to beyour home for always!'

  'Ah well! there's no use thinking of that,' said Kathleen, 'though ofcourse we can't help wishing it. It's worst for aunty--isn't she sweet,Phil? Come now, are you ready? We'll just take a peep into my room onthe way down--isn't it a jolly room, the very next door to yours, do yousee? And afterwards I'll show you all the house--there are such lots ofrooms, and all so nice and queer. Don't you smell that niceold-fashioned sort of scent, Phil? Like lavender and dried rose-leaves;and it's partly the scent of the wood of the wainscoting, aunty says.'

  'Yes,' said Philippa, sniffing about with her funny little nose; 'it'svery nice, and everything is so _beautifully_ clean, Kathie.Grandmamma's house is very nice, but it hasn't the same sort of look andfeeling this dear old house has.'

  'I am so glad you like it, dear,' said Kathie, very amiably. 'But wemust run down. I am sure you must be _very_ hungry.'

  'I think I'm too happy to be very, very hungry,' said Philippa.

  She managed, however, to do justice to the good things Martha hadprepared, and Miss Clotilda told her she would be very disappointedindeed if three weeks at Ty-gwyn did not make her both fatter androsier.

  'But she's looking much better than she did at school, aunty,' saidKathleen. 'Last spring she was a miserable little object.'

  'But that was because I was so very unhappy about mamma going away,'said Philippa, getting rather red.

  'Poor, dear child!' said Miss Clotilda. 'Ah, well! I can sympathise inthat. But you will be able to send your mother a very cheerful letterfrom here, I hope.'

  'Yes, indeed,' said the little girl. 'And I'm so glad now that we didn'twrite last week to tell her of grandmamma being ill, and my having to goback to school. Uncle and I talked it over, and we thought we might waittill this week, and now she'll hear of grandmamma's being better and mecoming here, at the same time, so it won't make her unhappy.'

  'Your uncle seems very kind indeed,' said Miss Clotilda. 'I was quitesorry for him to have to make such a long journey, and to go straightback again.'

  'Yes,' said Philippa. 'But, you see,' she went on, in her funny littleprim way, 'he wouldn't have felt happy to have left grandmamma longeralone. He will be home by eleven to-night.'

  This first evening was not a very long one, for after tea Philippa's boxarrived, and Kathleen had, of course, to go up-stairs with her littlefriend to help her to unpack her things and put them away. And MissClotilda told the children that they must go to bed early, as Philippawould be tired.

  'Have you been very tidy, Kathie, without me?' asked Philippa. 'I'm sureyou must often have wanted me to put your belongings neat, and to findyour pencils and gloves, and all the things you lose.'

  'No; I've got on very well indeed, thank you, Miss Conceit,' saidKathie, laughing. 'It's much easier here than at school. There's so muchmore room, and one isn't so hurried.'

  'Still, it would show a good deal if you were very untidy,' saidPhilippa. 'The house does look so neat all over. Have you done any work,Kathie? I am in such a fuss about what I can make to send to mamma forher birthday. I've always made her something every year as long as I canremember, and I wouldn't like to miss this year, the first I've beenaway from her.'

  'We'll have to think of something. Aunt Clotilda is very clever atwork,' said Kathie. 'You should see her darning.'

  'Grandmamma was going to have helped me to get something pretty to workfor mamma, only then she got ill,' said Philippa. 'Uncle is going tosend out a box soon, so it needn't be a very little thing, not like forgoing by post. I shall be so glad if your aunt can think of anything.'

  'I'm sure she will,' said Kathleen.

  But just then Martha tapped at the door with some hot water for 'theyoung lady,' which was a broad hint that it was time for Philippa to goto bed.

  'Good-night, dear,' said Kathleen. 'I think it's going to be fineto-morrow--the sky looks nice and reddy--and we shall be out nearly allday. You like going long walks, don't you, dear?'

  'Yes, of course I do; at least, if it isn't _too_ far. But we couldalways have nice rests, couldn't we? It isn't like going out walks intown, where one has to go on and on, however tired one is.'

  'No, indeed. There are lovely places to rest. And, by-the-by, thatreminds me--but I won't keep you up, Phil. I'll tell you to-morrow.'

  For suddenly there had flashed into Kathie's flighty head theremembrance of the visit she had been eager to pay to the old farmer atDol-bach. It would be such a nice expedition for Philippa's first day.

  'I'll ask aunty early to-morrow morning if we mayn't go,' she thought,as she fell asleep.

  But to-morrow morning brought fifty other ideas to volatile Kathie.There were so many things to show Philippa; the house, and the garden,and the poultry, and the dairy absorbed the morning, and in theafternoon Miss Clotilda went out with them herself to show the littleguest some of the prettiest views, ending up by a visit to the beach.

  'Isn't _this_ sea different to the beach at Bognor, Philippa?' saidKathleen. 'All crowded with people, and Miss Fraser scolding, and nohills or trees. Oh, I forgot! you hadn't been long enough at school tohave been at Bognor. That's a pleasure to come for next year. Oh dear!how I wish'--

  But she stopped herself, and said no more. Everybody knew _what_ shewished, but they all knew too that there was no use in speaking aboutit.

  'Kathie,' said Neville, partly to change the conversation, 'what'sbecome of our visit to Dol-bach? You were in such a fuss about it two orthree days ago.'

  'Oh,' said Kathie, 'I forgot. Aunty,' she went on, 'may we go thereto-morrow? If it's as fine as it is to-day, mightn't we take our dinnerwith us, like the other day? And then we could go to Dol-bach on our wayhome in the afternoon, and very likely they'd give us some milk, andperhaps some cake.'

  Aunty had no objection, and so it was settled.

  By the next day Philippa had quite got over her tiredness, though MissClotilda warned Neville and Kathleen that they must remember she was notquite as strong as they. And the three children set off on theirexpedition in high spirits.

  'You don't want to see your old woman in the cottage near the creek, doyou, Kathie? Don't you think, perhaps, you should tell her about theresults of searching the pillows?' said Neville mischievously.

  Kathleen looked at him indignantly.

  'I think you are very unkind,' she said, 'and very mean. You know Idon't want to quarrel just as Philippa's come, and you're just takingadvantage of it.'

  'Come now, Kathie,' said Neville good-humouredly. 'I don't think reallyyou need be so touchy.'

  'I only did it to please _you_, Phil,' Kathie went on.

  Philippa opened her eyes at this.

  'To please me?' she repeated.

  'Well, you know you said you were sure you'd find _it_ if you were inthe house, and I didn't want you to think I hadn't looked at all.'

  'I didn't say I was sure I'd find it,' said Philippa. 'If I thoughtthat, I'd ask Miss Clotilda's leave to look now I am in the house. But I_have_ a very queer feeling that it _is_ in the house; and lastnight--now don't laugh at me, Kathie--I had such a queer dream.'

  'Do tell it to us,' said both Neville and Kathleen.

  But Philippa was a little out of breath with climbing.

  'Let's wait till we sit do
wn to eat our dinner, and then I'll tell ityou,' she said.

  So they agreed to wait till then.