CHAPTER XI.
THE PINCUSHION MANUFACTORY.
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THEY FOUND A NOOK ... TO EAT THEIR DINNER IN.]
fter a while the three children had had enough of climbing andscrambling about, besides which they began to feel hungry. They found anook which, as Philippa said, 'seemed made on purpose to eat theirdinner in,' and there they comfortably established themselves for thatpurpose.
Dinner over, Kathleen reminded Philippa of her dream.
'Oh yes,' said the little girl, 'it really was a very funny one. Ithought I was at school, and Miss Fraser was calling to Kathie and me tobe quick, and just as we ran out of the room--which had turned intoKathie's room at Ty-gwyn, only that there were seats all round like arailway-carriage, and the door was like a railway-carriagedoor--Kathie's frock tore, and she called to me for a pin. I put my handinto my pocket to feel for my little pincushion, which I always keepthere, and my pocket was all full of some sort of stuff like--like'--
'Like feathers,' said Kathie; 'it was my telling you about thepillows.'
'No,' Philippa went on, 'it wasn't like feathers--it was more powdery.'
'Like dried rose-leaves?' again suggested Kathie. 'What aunty calls"pot-pourri." We were talking of the scent of it last night.'
'Oh, Kathie, do be quiet!' said Neville. 'You can't always explaindreams like that--indeed, you very seldom can.'
'Bits of them you very often can,' Kathleen maintained.
'But it wasn't dried rose-leaves either,' said Philippa. 'I remember thefeeling of it in my fingers. If I remember afterwards what it was like,I'll tell you. Well, I pulled my hand out again, and I found I washolding something--not my pincushion. The thing was a little book, onlyit wasn't made of paper, but of lovely bits of silk, all fastenedtogether, for the leaves. And the funniest thing was that though theywere of all sorts of patterns and colours, there seemed to be words onthem all, which you could read through the patterns somehow. I fanciedthat the words on the first page were, "For dear mamma, from her lovingPhilippa;" and immediately I called out, "Oh, Kathie, see! it's apresent for me to send to mamma, only I haven't made it myself." Still Iwent on turning the leaves. I can't remember any of the words on themtill I came to the last, and on it I read, "Look in the----" and then itseemed all a muddle, only I knew it meant the place where the will was.I tried and tried to read it, but I couldn't; and then I called toKathie to try, and I suppose I must have really made a little squeak inmy sleep, for just as I thought I was calling her very loud, I woke.'
'And all the time I was waiting for the pin,' said Kathleen. 'Well, yes,it was a very queer dream, though I could explain a good deal of it. Yousee, you'--
But Neville put his fingers in his ears.
'We don't want it explained,' he said. 'It's much more interesting tofancy what it could mean--like--like the dreams in the Bible, you know.'
'You're very irreverent, Neville,' said Kathie.
'I'm not,' said Neville. 'Dreams do come sometimes that mean things.'
'But I _can't_ think what the stuff in my pocket could be,' saidPhilippa; and neither of the others could help her to an idea.
'I think,' said Neville, 'we'd better be going on to old Davis's. It'sabout twenty minutes' walk from here.'
'Very well,' said the little girls; and they set off, Philippa declaringthat she was now 'quite, quite rested.'
They were heartily welcomed at Dol-bach. Mr. Davis introduced his wife,who was as pleasant-looking for an old woman as he for an old man. Hehad been 'hoping they'd look in some of these days,' he said; and Mrs.Davis had evidently heard all about them, though she, and Mr. Davis toofor that matter, looked puzzled as to where Philippa had come from. Theywere very much interested to hear all about her, and congratulated heron having had a pleasanter ending to her journey than had fallen to theshare of her friends.
'It didn't seem so far a way from Hafod to Ty-gwyn yesterday as in thecarrier's cart, did it, sir?' said Davis to Neville. 'But the road's adeal better than in my young days; and Mrs. Wynne, she's many a timetold us how her mother--the Captain's great-aunt she'd be--never went toHafod but once a year, and thought a long time about it before she didthat. She was a clever lady too--you'll have seen the chairs sheworked--wasn't it chairs?' he added, turning to his wife.
'Yes, indeed,' she said. 'Your aunty's not showed them to you? Ah, well,she must feel it hard, things being as they are. But our lady,--that'swhat we call Mrs. Wynne,--she was handy with her fingers too. I can showyou the present she brought me last Christmas as ever was.'
'Oh, yes!' Kathie exclaimed. 'The pincushion! Mr. Davis told us of it.'
It was duly fetched and exhibited. It was rather a new-fashioned kind ofpincushion, being one of those made out of a small cigar-box, whichserved for box and pincushion at once. It was most neatly made, coveredwith rich and uncommon-looking brocaded satin, which Mrs. Davis eyedwith great approval, and edged with a narrow frill of old thread lace.
'Such a useful shape, too,' said Mrs. Davis; 'I'd never seen one like itbefore, but Mrs. Wynne told me she'd covered a many. The old silk was apiece of a gown of her mother's. I believe there's some fine things ofthe old lady's still at Ty-gwyn.'
'Yes, aunty has some lovely pieces; she's promised to show us them,'said Kathie. 'Perhaps she'll give us some, Phil.'
Philippa looked up eagerly at this. She had been examining thepincushion with the greatest attention.
'Do you think she would perhaps, really?' she asked, when they were ontheir way home, having promised Mr. and Mrs. Davis to come to see themagain some day soon.
'I daresay she would,' said Kathleen. 'Why are you in such a fuss aboutit, Phil?'
'Oh, because--because,' said the little girl, 'I _have_ got such an ideainto my head. If I could but manage it! Do you think, Kathie, I couldpossibly make a pincushion like that to send to mamma for her birthday?It would be so beautiful!'
'I don't see why you shouldn't,' said Kathie; 'I don't think it would beso very difficult. And I'm almost sure aunty would give you some bits.'
'If I had one very pretty piece for the top,' said Philippa, 'a plainerkind would do to frill round it, and _quite_ plain would do to lineit--just silk that one could get in any shop. And I could get some lacethat would do very well. I have some money, you know. Couldn't we writeto some shop in London?'
'I should think so. And you'd have to get some stuff to scent it--thatone was scented, didn't you notice? What fun it would be to make it! IfI had anybody to make one for, I'd like to make one too.'
'Kathie!' Philippa exclaimed, 'you have your own mamma!'
'Oh, but,' said Kathleen, blushing a little, 'I don't remember her, yousee. I've never made her anything. It's different from you. Still--if Ithought she'd like it. She's often written about my learning to sew andto be neat-handed, and I don't like that sort of thing, so I neveranswer that part of her letters.'
'It would be _very_ nice for you to make her something, to show her youare neat-handed. Wouldn't it, Neville? Don't you think so too?' askedPhilippa.
'Yes,' Neville replied. 'I think it would be very nice. Only there's onedifficulty--where are you to get the boxes? There must be a box for thatkind of pincushion.'
Philippa's face fell; but Kathie's, on the contrary, brightened up.
'I know,' she said. 'I have an idea. But I won't tell you just yet.Leave it to me, Philippa--you'll see.'
'But, Kathie,' said the little girl plaintively, 'you won't forget, willyou? You so often do, you know. I've only a fortnight before the boxgoes. Uncle and grandmamma had got it nearly all ready before she gotill; there are books and lots of things going out to papa, that can'twait. And if I can't do the pincushion, I must think of something else.'
'Oh, I won't forget,' said Kathie confidently. 'The first wet day--andit's sure to be rain again soon; that's how it does in these hillyplaces; it's never long the same thing. Well, the first wet day, itwould be a capital way of getting through the time to make pincushions.'
> Philippa said nothing, but Neville noticed that her little face stilllooked dissatisfied.
'Never mind, Philippa,' he whispered; 'she's only teasing you. I'll seethat she doesn't forget. And if she can't get a box for you, I'll try ifI can't.'
'Thank you, Neville! oh, thank you so much!' said Philippa fervently,drawing a deep breath. 'How I wish you were my brother!'
Kathleen caught the last word. 'That's always the way,' she said.'Perhaps if he was your brother, he wouldn't be so nice to you as heis.' Kathie was in one of her mischievous, teasing moods, and when thiswas the case she said things she did not really mean. But Philippa wasrather matter-of-fact. She looked quite distressed.
'Oh, Kathie!' she began.
'Well?' said Kathie.
'You don't really mean that, do you? I know you've often told me thatNeville was a _very_ good brother to you. I'm sure she doesn't reallymean it, Neville.'
Neville smiled at her anxious little face.
'No, I'm sure she doesn't,' he said. 'It is a shame of you to teasePhil, Kathie. You've made her look quite troubled, poor child.'
'I'm very sorry,' said Kathleen. 'Phil isn't to look troubled _once_ thewhole time she's here. Tell me, dear, what can I do to make up forteasing you?'
Philippa slipped her hand through Kathie's arm.
'Kathie,' she said, 'if you would but see about the pincushions withoutwaiting for a wet day. Now I've got it into my head, I do so want to doit. And I think it would take a good while to make, do you know--longerthan you think, to do it quite neatly.'
'Very well, you little fusser,' said Kathie. 'I'll see what I can do.But mind, I'm not going to be mewed up sewing and bothering atpincushions all day, if it's beautiful, fine weather like this.'
'I don't want you to do anything of the kind,' said Philippa. 'That'swhy it's so much better not to put off about it. We can take severaldays to them, and do a little every day.'
'Humph!' was Kathleen's reply.
'Why do you say that?' asked Philippa.
'Oh,' said Kathie, 'I know what your "doing a little bit every day"means. I know it of old. When she gets a thing in her head, Neville, shefidgets at it till it's done, and won't give herself any peace.'
'Well, then, Kathie,' said Philippa, 'I just promise you I won't do thatway about the pincushion, if only you'll set my mind at rest by helpingme to get it begun.'
And she looked so pitiful, speaking in her quaint, earnest way, thatKathleen could not help kissing her, and promising to do what she couldat once.
That evening, after tea, Kathie touched her aunt's arm as they wereleaving the dining-room.
'I want to speak to you a moment, aunty,' she said, and Miss Clotildaturned back with her.
'Do you remember, aunty,' she said, 'that one day, when I first came,you said you would show me some of the pieces of old silk and things ofMrs. Wynne's? And I think you said you'd give me one or two. Would youlet us see them? And do you think you could give Phil some? She's takensuch a fancy in her head;' and Kathie went on to explain about the boxgoing out to India, and the pincushion old Mrs. Davis had shown them,which Philippa so much wished to copy for her mother.
'And,' Kathie went on, 'I've another idea too. We were thinking it wouldbe very difficult to get a box to make it with. That morning when thecupboard was left open in my room, I saw several old pincushions thatyou said you had meant to cover fresh. Might, oh! _might_ we have two ofthem? We could easily get some plain thin silk for lining themwith--Phil has some money, and I have a very little--if some of the niceold pieces would do for the outside.'
Miss Clotilda looked a little bewildered.
'Two, my dear?' she said. 'I thought it was Philippa who wanted to makeone. Do you want one too?'
Kathie blushed a little.
'They said,' she began, 'Neville and Phil said, it would be so nice if Imade one for mamma too. I've never made her anything--I don't likesewing, you know, aunty, and she's always writing about things likethat.'
Miss Clotilda patted Kathie's head.
'Yes, dear,' she said; 'I do think it would be very nice indeed. I amsure it would please your mamma. I am almost sure I can give you two ofthe soiled ones that you can undo and cover and line freshly. If youundo them carefully, you will see exactly how they are made without myhelping you. You would rather make them all by yourselves, would younot?'
'Yes,' said Kathie, 'if we can. It would be much nicer, as they are tobe presents to our mothers. Thank you _so_ much, aunty.'
'I will bring down the bundle of old pieces this evening, if you like,'Miss Clotilda went on. 'I know exactly where they are; I can put my handupon them in a moment. It will amuse us to look them over and choosewhich will do.'
And the kind creature set off up-stairs at once to fetch them, whileKathie, overjoyed, ran to tell Philippa the success of her application.
The pieces of silk proved quite as interesting as they expected.
'It reminds me,' said Miss Clotilda, with a smile, 'of Mrs. Goodrich in"The Fairchild Family," a story I read when I was little, when she gaveBessy and Lucy and Emily each two pieces of old brocaded silk or satinas a test of their neat-handedness. You have never seen the book, but itwas a very favourite one of mine as a child.'
And she went on to tell them the rest of the story of the patches ofsilk, how the good little girls turned theirs to purpose, and how thepoor naughty girl threw a bottle of ink over hers.
'Poor naughty girl!' said Kathie. 'I am afraid I must be rather likeher, aunty. And Philippa is like all the good little girls rolled intoone. Oh, aunty! what a lovely piece that is!'
It was a narrow satin and silk stripe of a curious salmon colour, andhere and there were little daisies embroidered in gold thread. There wasanother pale grey satin, with wreaths of flowers running all over it,which was greatly to Philippa's taste; and as there was enough for thepurpose of each of these, Miss Clotilda gave them to the children. Thena letter had to be written to be sent by the carrier to the draper's atHafod, where Mrs. Wynne had always dealt, to order a yard of plainrose-coloured silk for Philippa, and the same quantity of white forKathie, as linings for both pincushions. A contrast would be best, MissClotilda told them, as it was all but impossible to match the strangeand delicate shades of the old silks, except perhaps in very rich andexpensive materials. Bedtime had come before all this was done, and thechildren went off to dream of 'flowered padusoy,' and pearl-grey satins'that would stand alone.'
Miss Clotilda had some difficulty the next morning in persuading them togo for a walk early and not to set to work till later.
'It will be very hot this afternoon,' she said. 'Indeed, I think thereis thunder not far off. You will have a nice quiet time for getting towork after dinner, and I will look out the old pincushions thismorning.'
They set off, though rather reluctantly, for Kathie, now that she hadtaken up the idea, was more full of it than even Philippa. And she wasmuch less ready than Philippa to yield her wishes and opinions to thoseof others.
It did not rain that afternoon, but, as Miss Clotilda had foreseen, itwas very hot. And the children, all three--for Neville too seemedbitten by the pincushion mania--found it very pleasant to sit round atable in the nice cool library, busy with their work.
There was not much they could do at first beyond unpicking andmeasuring. Miss Clotilda had given them two of the pincushions out ofthe cupboard, and, as Philippa had foreseen, when they came to take themcarefully to pieces, they found that there would really be more work todo than they had expected.
'What patience Mrs. Wynne must have had,' said Kathie, 'to do them sobeautifully! Did you ever see anything so neat? Just look at the hemmingof this frill, Phil.'
Philippa took it up to admire.
'We might hem our frills this afternoon,' she said, 'and then to-morrow,when we have the silk from Hafod, we can go on with the linings.'
'I do hope to-morrow will be a wet day,' said Kathie. 'We could get onso splendidly if it were.'
Neville looke
d up suddenly from one of the now uncovered pincushionswhich he had been examining.
'You've forgotten about the scent,' he said.
'No, we haven't,' said Kathleen. 'Aunty has some sachet-powder she isgoing to give us.'
'And I'll tell you what,' he went on, 'you'd better get some fresh bran.This cushion does smell a little musty, and it won't be much trouble tounfasten it from the top of the box, and fill it fresh. Look, it's onlytacked down at the corners. The silk top keeps it in its place. Mrs.Wynne must have been a faddy old lady. Just see--there's a sheet ofnote-paper under the cushion--and the date she made it.'
He drew out the paper as he spoke. On it was written, as he said, thedate, 'Ty-gwyn, January 24th, 1865.'
'What a good plan!' said Philippa; 'the thick paper keeps it all so niceand even--perhaps she did it for that too. Let us put papers in ourswith the date, Kathie. Perhaps our great-grandchildren will find themsome day. We'd better put our names too.'
Kathie had no objection. And Neville very good-naturedly went off to the'shop' to get some nice bran, to be ready for to-morrow.
CHAPTER XII.
FOUND.
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t actually rained the next day!
'Who would have thought it?' said Kathie, with a face of great content.'The weather so seldom does what one wants.'
'We can set to work immediately after breakfast,' said Philippa. For therose-coloured silk and the white had come from Hafod the evening before,'just what one wanted,' and Miss Clotilda had given them thesatchet-powder, and had promised to look out some lace that would do foredging. 'We have got everything right now,' the little girl went on, hereyes sparkling.
So they established themselves in the library, with a newspaper spreadout on the table to catch all the shreds and cuttings.
'And the bran,' added Neville, as he brought in a paper bag filled withthe article in question. 'Bran's awfully messy stuff.'
He opened the bag as he spoke, and plunged his hand in.
'I like the feeling of it,' he said.
Philippa stood gazing at the paper bag.
'Is that bran?' she said, 'Let me feel it too. I didn't know bran waslike that,' she went on; 'I thought it was something like cotton-wool.'
'Oh, you silly girl,' said Kathie, but Neville checked her. 'How shouldshe know?' he said. 'She's never been in England till this year.'
But Philippa was not attending. She had pulled back her sleeve, and hadplunged her arm into the bag.
'Kathie,' she said, '_that's_ the stuff my pocket was filled with in mydream. _Isn't_ it funny? For I didn't know about making the pincushionsthen--and I didn't know till this minute what bran was like.'
She was quite excited about it, and the others agreed it was verycurious. But the work soon engrossed them all. Neville had something todo too this morning. He took charge of emptying the cushions of the oldbran, and re-filling them, and most interesting work he found it, thefirst part especially. He shook out the cushions on to anothernewspaper, and for some minutes did not speak. Then Kathie looked roundand asked him what he was doing.
'Oh,' he said, 'this is such jolly fun! Just look here, Kathie andPhil,' and he pointed to a row of needles and a few pins at the side ofhis newspaper. 'I've found all these in the bran. And I expect there area lot more, and some ends of old brooch pins--looks like real gold,' hewent on, holding up one--'it's as good as a hunt. You have to spread thestuff out quite thin and flat, and even then you've no idea how theneedles hide. Hullo! here's another.'
Kathie and Philippa watched him for a few moments.
'Yes,' said Kathie, 'it's very interesting. But we must get on with ourwork. And when are you going to fill the cushions with the new bran forus, Neville? I can stitch them up as soon as they are filled, and wemust put a little bag in near the top with the scent-powder, Phil.'
'They won't take five minutes to do,' said Neville. 'Will you fetch me abig spoon, Kathie? It'll make less mess.'
And in a very few minutes, as he said, the cushions were filled. ThenNeville went back to his needle-hunt, and for a quarter of an hour or sohe was quite silent. Then he began to fidget.
'I wish I had some more to do,' he said. 'Kathie, hasn't aunty any moreto be made over?'
Kathie shook her head.
'No; the other two she wants to keep as they are for the present, shesays,' Kathie replied.
'I've finished this stuff,' said Neville. 'Here--you may divide theneedles among you. There are more than thirty. I'm going to keep thesebrooch pins to test if they're pure gold. Oh, I wish it would leave offraining!'
Suddenly he jumped up and ran out of the room. In about ten minutes hewas back again, another old pincushion and two or three pieces of silkin his hand.
'Aunty says I may undo this one,' he said, waving it over his head.'It's the one out of my own room. I just remembered it was very shabby,and aunty says I may undo it and fill it fresh, if one of you girls willhelp me to cover the top again. The frill isn't the same silk, you see,and it isn't dirty--the top's all pin-holed. I expect there'll be ajolly good lot of needles in this one. Here goes!' And he took thescissors and began to unpick it.
'How funny you are, Neville!' said Kathie. 'You're quite excited overyour needle-hunting. Now just see here, Phil; should we turn in theinside lining or tack it down _outside_?' and a discussion ensuedbetween the two girls, and they paid no more attention to Neville.
On his side he was very quiet for some minutes. Neither Kathleen norPhilippa heard a curious sound--a sort of smothered exclamation--whichescaped him. Nor did his sister notice that he had left his seat and wasstanding beside her, till he touched her on the arm.
'Kathie,' he said, and his voice sounded strange and almost hoarse, andKathie, looking up, saw that he was deadly pale.
'Oh, Neville,' she exclaimed, 'what is the matter? Have you swallowed aneedle?'
He could scarcely help smiling.
'Nonsense, Kathie,' he said. 'Nothing's the matter. It is this,' and heheld out a sheet of note-paper, with some writing on it. The paperlooked rather yellow, and was marked here and there at the edges as ifit had been stitched. 'This is the paper that was in my pincushion, justlike the others. It was meant to have the date upon it, I suppose. Butit isn't that--look what it is instead. I can scarcely believe it. Ifeel as if I was dreaming. I want you to read the words.'
And Kathie read--though with some difficulty, for she too felt as if shewere dreaming, and the lines danced before her eyes. They were veryfew, however, and very legible, in Mrs. Wynne's clear, precisehandwriting.
'My will, and some other papers of less importance, will be found in the plate-chest--containing the best silver--underneath the lining of green baize in the bottom of the box. The lining is only tacked in and will be easily removed.
'DAVIDA WYNNE.'
Kathie, without speaking, turned the sheet of paper round. On the otherside was written, what Neville had not noticed, a date, 'Ty-gwyn, May15th, 1859,' just as there had been in the other pincushions, only thiswas an older one.
Kathie's eyes sparkled, and the power of speech seemed to return to her.
'Yes,' she said, 'she had thought this was a blank sheet, and she putthe blank sheet in the envelope of "directions," and sealed it up, bymistake. Neville, Neville, Phil, it's _it_!'
Neville was trembling so, he could scarcely stand.
'What shall we do?' he said. 'I can't bear to risk any moredisappointment for aunty. If we could look ourselves, first, but wecan't. Suppose it isn't there after all--or suppose it doesn't leavethings as they think. She may have changed--Mrs. Wynne, I mean.'
'No,' said Kathleen, 'I'm not afraid of the will _if it's there_. Mrs.Wynne told aunty almost the last thing that it would be all right. Butshe may have changed the place of keeping it--though it's not likely.I'll tell you what, Neville--I'll ask aunty if she has ever looked inthat plate-chest, and see what she says.'
'Yes,' said Neville, who was recovering his composure b
y now. 'We mightdo that. It would make it less of a disappointment if it _weren't_there.'
'Oh,' said Kathie, 'we could get her to show us the plate-chest evenwithout that. Yes--that will be best. I'm sure I can manage it.'
'But then,' said Neville, 'we'd have to tell her about this paper allthe same. We couldn't conceal it.'
'No; but don't you see that there would be no _disappointment_ about it.She would know at once that it wasn't there before she could hope orwonder about it. I don't think she could bear any more "hoping,"Neville.'
'No,' he agreed, 'I don't think she could.'
And he felt both pleased and surprised at Kathie's womanlythoughtfulness for her aunt.
'We _can't_ work any more till we know for sure about it,' said littlePhil. 'Oh, Kathie, do settle something quickly.'
'I'm going to,' said Kathie. 'Put all our things together neatly, Phil.I'll be back in a minute.'
And in less than five she was back.
'Phil, Neville,' she called out, 'you're to come up-stairs to thelocked-up room where aunty keeps the best linen, and the best china, andthe best silver. Aunty's going to show it all to us because it's a wetday, and we don't want to work any more.'
'It is better not to tire yourselves over the pincushions,' said MissClotilda's gentle voice behind her, 'and you will have all the afternoonfor them. I am sure it is not going to clear. So come along. I have gotmy keys. It is a very good idea of yours, Kathie.'
Up jumped Neville and Phil. Kathie was already nearly at the top of thestaircase, Miss Clotilda following more slowly. From the long passagewhich ran almost the length of the house on the first floor, she led theway down a shorter one, then up a little flight of steps ending in asmall landing where there were two doors.
Miss Clotilda pointed to one on the right.
'That was the old butler's room,' she said. 'He left last year, for hewas too old to work and he would not rest while here.'
'Is he dead?' asked Neville.
'Yes,' she replied; 'he died a week or so before Mrs. Wynne did. I haveoften thought,' she added, with a sigh, 'that he might have knownsomething had he been alive.'
She chose a key and opened the other door. It led into a fair-sizedroom. All round three sides were large cupboards; one or two big casesstood on the floor, and at one side were two strongly-made woodenchests.
'The linen is in those cupboards,' Miss Clotilda went on, 'and the bestchina near the window. In those boxes there are some new blankets andcounterpanes that Mrs. Wynne never saw. They had just been ordered. Andthose are the two plate chests. Nearly all the silver is laid away.'
Kathie looked at Neville.
'Best and every-day silver all together?'
'Oh, no,' said Miss Clotilda. 'The _best_ is in this one,' and shetouched it; 'the other was only brought up here for greater securitywhen Mrs Wynne died, and I had to stay on here alone with Martha. Now,what shall I show you first, children? The china, perhaps, would pleaseyou the most?'
'No, thank you, aunty,' said Neville and Kathleen; 'please show us thebest silver first.'
Miss Clotilda looked a little surprised.
'Well, I daresay, it _is_ interesting,' she said. 'There are some verycurious old things.'
She chose another key as she spoke, and in another moment the lock,which was an excellent one, though very old, was opened. Inside, thechest was divided into several compartments, all lined with green baize;all filled with every kind of silver articles, carefully enveloped intissue paper.
'You may lift out a tray at a time,' his aunt said to Neville; 'it isastonishing how many there are, and what that box will hold.'
Neville obeyed, indeed he did more than obey; he went on lifting outtray after tray, and placing them in rows on the floor.
'Stop, my dear boy,' said Miss Clotilda, 'let us look at one at a time.You will cover the floor with them--and'--
'Let me take all out,' said Neville. 'I want to get to the bottom of thebox. I know how to put them back again.'
Miss Clotilda said no more. Kathie and Philippa came to Neville andpeered into the chest.
'THAT IS ALL,' SAID NEVILLE.]
'That is all,' said Neville. He had grown very pale again, but his auntdid not notice it.
Kathie leant over and felt at the bottom.
'It is soft down here,' she said. 'Is there nothing underneath, aunty?'
'There is a thin cushion. The baize is lined with cotton-wool,' MissClotilda replied. 'Some of the trays are the same.'
But Kathie kept feeling about.
'Neville,' she whispered, 'try if you can't pull up one corner. It seemsloose. I'll keep aunty from looking.'
She turned to Miss Clotilda, who was already unwrapping some of thepapers, with some little question about their contents. Neville bentdown over the chest without speaking.
Suddenly he gave a sort of smothered cry, and the little girls lookinground saw that he held something in his hand--two things indeed--twopackets, not very thick, but long and flat, both sealed and bothlabelled in clear writing--the one 'Various papers, inventories, &c., tobe looked over by David and Clotilda Powys,' and the other--oh, theother!
'My last Will and Testament.'
Neville could not speak. Kathie flew forward.
'Tell her!' he half whispered.
_How_ they told her they could not afterwards recollect. The wits andperceptions are strangely sharpened on some occasions. I suspect verylittle 'telling' was required, though of course when their aunt hadsomewhat recovered from the first overwhelming surprise and joy, shewas deeply interested in the history of the sheet of paper, and touchedby the children's thought for her.
Some hours of suspense had still to be endured, for Miss Clotilda wouldnot open the precious packet except in presence of the lawyer, andNeville was sent off at once to Boyneth to telegraph for him to Hafod,and to beg him to come at once. He came that very afternoon, and thenindeed all doubts were set at rest. All proved to be as had beenexpected, and as Mrs. Wynne had always led her relations to believewould be the case. Everything was provided for, nobody was forgotten;the legacy which Mr. Wynne-Carr had reason to look for was to be his, sothat no ill-feeling would be caused to any one.
'Yes, it is most fair and satisfactory in every particular,' said Mr.Price, the lawyer, 'if only my respected friend, Mrs. Wynne, had beenless obstinate and eccentric in insisting on keeping the document in herpossession! What trouble it would have saved!'
'But,' said Kathie, whom even Mr. Pryce's presence did not overawe, 'Idon't think we should have cared about it at all as much as we do if wehad never known what it was to lose it;' and in this Miss Clotilda andNeville, and Philippa, who seemed to have become quite one of them,agreed, though as for Mr. Pryce's opinion I cannot take upon myself toanswer.
He was honestly delighted, however, and went off that evening laden withdirections of all kinds, among them a telegram to be despatched to Indiaat once, 'regardless of expense':--
'From Clotilda Powys, to Captain Powys, 200th regt.
'Will found. All right. Arrange to come home as soon as possible.'
Those, I think, were the words it contained.
'And oh, aunty,' said Kathie, dancing with delight, 'just _fancy_ whatpapa and mamma will think when they read it. Phil, why don't you lookhappy? What are you so grave about?'
The little girl blushed.
'I don't mean to be selfish,' she said, 'but--I would so like to go onmaking my pincushion. You know I've only about ten days more to make itin.'
'Of course you shall, my dear,' said Miss Clotilda. 'Selfish! No indeed,that you are not. And but for you, I do not believe we should ever havefound the will at all.'
Philippa looked intensely pleased.
'I always had a feeling it was in the house,' she said. 'And then mydream was very queer. But it wasn't much good, for it was such amuddle.'
'Dreams generally are,' said Miss Clotilda. 'No, I wasn't thinking ofyour dream. It was your wishing to make something for y
our mother in thefirst place'--
'And our going to Dol-bach and seeing the pincushion there, and ourtravelling with the farmer, and my seeing the old ones in thecupboard--_that_ came of my not posting the letter to aunty, so that ourtrunks hadn't come, and aunty had to open the cupboard to get out anight-gown for me--and--and--oh, dear, how strange it seems! Really asif it was a good thing I forgot to post the letter.'
Miss Clotilda could not help smiling.
'Don't let that encourage you to think carelessness of any kind "a goodthing," my dear Kathie,' she said, 'even though good does sometimes comeof ill.'
'And it was a _sort_ of carelessness that caused all the trouble, yousee. If the old lady--old Mrs. Wynne--had only looked at the paperbefore she put it in the envelope, there wouldn't have been any, wouldthere?' said Philippa, in her little prim way.
'Poor Mrs. Wynne!' said Miss Clotilda. 'She would have been the last towish to cause any of us any trouble.'
'Well, all's well that ends well, aunty,' said Neville cheerily. 'Wehave nothing but nice and jolly things to think of now. Do let us talkabout how soon papa and mamma can possibly get home.'
'All's well that ends well,' as Neville said, and what is more, when'all is well,' there is very little to tell about it. Sooner almost thancould have been hoped for came a telegram in reply from Captain Powys,announcing the date at which he and the children's mother and littlesister might be expected.
The leaves were still on the trees, and Ty-gwyn looking _almost_ aspretty as in full summer when the travellers arrived to find Kathleenstill with her aunt, though poor little Philippa had had to go back toschool at the end of the holidays.
But she came to see her friends again before long, and this time formore than a visit, for it had been arranged that during the three yearsof her parents' absence she was to live with the Powyses altogether, andshare Kathie's lessons.
So Miss Clotilda's pleasant castles in the air came to be realized. Idoubt if any happier family was to be found _anywhere_ than the goodpeople, big and little, in the old white house near the sea, thatChristmas when Neville came home for his holidays, to find them allthere together.
And in one corner of the library, under a glass shade and on a littlestand all to itself, is a queer old-fashioned-looking sort of box,covered in faded silk, and seemingly rather out of place among thepretty things with which the room is adorned. But no one thinks it outof place when its history is told, and it is known to be the oldpincushion, the _very_ identical old pincushion, which for so many yearshad held the secret of the missing will!
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