The Old Pincushion; or, Aunt Clotilda's Guests

  CHAPTER V.

  A GRAVE PREDICAMENT.

  Decorative I]

  t was a hot, close morning in July when Neville and Kathleen foundthemselves at Paddington, waiting to start by the ten o'clock train forFrewern Bay. They had rather a long journey before them, longer than itneed have been in one sense, for they could not travel by the express asthey were to go third-class. It had been decided by all the authoritiesconcerned that as little as possible must be spent upon the railwayfares, for there had not, of course, been time to write to CaptainPowys, and have his instructions.

  Up to the last there had been some uncertainty as to the day of theirgoing. Miss Clotilda had named Wednesday or Thursday in her last letter,saying that if she did not hear to the contrary she would not expectthem till Thursday, and would arrange to meet them that day at FrewernBay. But late on Monday evening came a note from Neville to ask ifKathie could be ready for Wednesday. Mr. Fanshaw, who was to see themoff, had an unexpected engagement on Thursday, and if Wednesday wouldnot do, their leaving must be delayed till Friday. But this would not atall have suited Kathleen. She was eager to be off, and even twenty-fourhours more at school seemed intolerable to her. And to Miss Eccles, oneday or the other, provided Miss Fraser could guarantee the young lady'spacking being completed in time, was the same. Miss Fraser, to tell thetruth, was quite as eager to get rid of Kathie as Kathie was pleased tosay good-bye to her. Poor Miss Fraser! her sharp face had looked alittle more amiable of late, and her voice had had a softer ring. Shehad the prospect of a holiday at last, after two years' incessant work,for so many of the girls were this year disposed of among their variousrelations that Miss Eccles had given up the usual visit to Bognor, andthe young governess was in consequence to have three weeks to herself.And Philippa Harley was to travel down to Cheltenham this same Thursdayunder Miss Fraser's convoy.

  'Of course I can be ready for Wednesday!' Kathleen exclaimed, when sheread Neville's note. 'Wait till Friday, indeed! And you leaving onThursday, Phil. I should die of dulness before Friday morning.'

  'It'll be rather horrid for me on Wednesday,' said Philippa. 'I wish wehad been going the same day, as it was settled.'

  'Oh, poor Phil,' said Kathleen, ashamed of her thoughtlessness. 'I quiteforgot. Never mind, dear; you are so good, you know. You wouldn't haveliked to think of me alone here all Thursday.'

  And Philippa's impending tears were thus warded off.

  Thoughtful Neville had enclosed a note, ready addressed and stamped, forKathie to post at once to Miss Clotilda if Wednesday was decided upon.She was also to let him know at once, which she did.

  So on Wednesday morning a four-wheeler with some luggage on the top drewup at Miss Eccles' door, and Neville jumped out. Kathleen was ready, ofcourse; she had been ready for half an hour at least. There was nothingmore to do except to give Philippa a last hug for the twentieth time,and to tell her not to cry, and to be sure, quite sure, to write.

  'And, Kathie, don't, _promise_ me you won't, give up looking for thewill,' whispered Philippa at the very last moment. 'Oh, how I wish Iwere going with you! How I would hunt!'

  'I won't forget, I promise you,' Kathie replied. 'But don't fancythere's any chance of it, Phil. There isn't, I'm afraid, and you'd onlybe disappointed. But I'll write to you, darling, I promise you.'

  The first part of the journey was performed to the children's entiresatisfaction, for they had the carriage to themselves.

  'After all,' said Kathie, 'third-class isn't so bad, is it, Neville?And I'm sure papa and mamma will think it _awfully_ good of us to havesaved the money.'

  'I don't know that they will,' said Neville. 'They will think itsensible--as we're going to be poor it's best to get accustomed to it.But besides that, if we hadn't come third, we couldn't have come atall.'

  Kathleen sat silent for a minute or two.

  'Do you really think we are going to be poor always, Neville?' she said.'Do you think there's no chance of the will ever being found?'

  Neville shook his head.

  'I don't believe there's the least,' he said. 'I'm sure Aunt Clotildahas looked everywhere.'

  Kathleen sighed.

  'It does seem too bad,' she said. 'Things don't often happen likethat--in that story-book sort of way. I don't see why it should havecome to us.'

  'I don't see why it should have come to poor papa and mamma--staying outthere in India just to get money for us when they'd gladly be at home,or to poor Aunt Clotil'--

  'Oh, bother Aunt Clotilda!' said Kathleen impatiently. 'You'll reallymake me dislike her, Neville, if you keep on pestering so about her. I'mmuch more sorry for ourselves than for her--she's an old maid, and Idon't suppose _she_ was forced to travel third-class when she was alittle girl.'

  'A minute or two ago you thought third-class was very comfortable,' saidNeville. 'You change about so, Kathie. I don't understand you.'

  Kathleen did not always quite understand herself. She looked abouteagerly as if in search of an excuse for her bad temper.

  'I'm hot,' she said, 'and--yes--I'm almost sure I'm rather hungry. Ididn't eat much breakfast, Neville, I was in such a fuss.'

  Neville opened the little basket in which their provisions were packed.Miss Eccles--or Miss Fraser rather--had contented herself with somerather thick sandwiches made of cold beef, and a few Albert biscuits.But kind Mrs. Fanshaw had given Neville a little parcel of toastsandwiches--toast and egg--which are much nicer for children and don'tget nearly so dry in hot weather as meat ones; and besides this, she hadgiven him some slices of home-made plum-cake and a few grapes and alittle bottle of lemonade, not too sweet--so there was really quite anice little railway dinner. And when Neville had spread it all out,Kathleen's spirits got up again, and she did full justice to Mrs.Fanshaw's good things.

  After this refreshment they both got out their books and began to read,but before they had read very long Kathie's head gave a great bump, andhalf opening her eyes she discovered she had been asleep. So she shut upher book and propped her head against the corner as well as she could,and settled herself for a little nap, for by a glance at the oppositecorner she had seen that this was what Neville had done.

  They slept comfortably enough for an hour or more, and very likely,taking into account the sultry weather, they would have slept on stilllonger had they not been awakened by the train stopping and some one--ormore than one--getting in.

  'What a bore!' said Kathie to herself. 'Dear me, the carriage will bequite full,' and in they continued to come. Two women with big baskets,another with two babies, and then two oldish men, of a class above thewomen apparently, for the latter were evidently simple peasants,returning from market very likely, and chattering to each other inWelsh.

  The sound of their queer talk made Kathie a little forget her ill temperat being disturbed; she sat up and listened, and Neville, opposite toher, did the same. But after a while they grew tired of listening towhat they could not understand a word of, and they took out their booksand read for half an hour or so. At the end of that time the trainstopped again, and to their great relief the three women, the twobabies, and the two baskets all got, or were got out, and the brotherand sister were left alone with the two elderly men. When the train wenton again these two began talking to each other in English, though with acurious accent, and now and then some words of what they were sayingfell on the children's ears, though without catching their attention.

  Suddenly, however, Kathleen heard a name and then another which made herlisten more closely, and looking across at Neville, she saw that he toowas on the alert. The names were those of 'Miss Wynne,' and 'Ty-Gwyn.'

  'Yes,' one of the old worthies was saying to the other, 'it is a strangestory. She was--was Mrs. Wynne, a good old lady, though she had herways, but she was not one to play a trick on nobody.'

  'No, surely,' said the other. 'That was what I always heard. And she wascareful and exact.'

  'She had not her match for that. She never forgot a promise, she neverbut paid all she owed, to a
day. No--no--there was no carelessness abouther. Why, last Christmas as ever was she came down to see my wife, whowas very bad with her rheumatiz just then; couldn't stir hand nor foot,and now she's hearty enough and the poor old lady gone! Well, she camedown with a present she had made for her; she was wonderful handy withher fingers, and my wife and she was very old friends. "Here, Ellen,"says she, "here's a pincushion I've made for you my own self. You'llkeep it, Ellen, and show to your great-grandchildren maybe, as the workof an old woman of eighty-three. It may be the last Christmas I'll behere." And that was a true word, surely.'

  'Dear, dear,' said the other old man. Then after a moment's silence hespoke again. 'You don't think now, as she could have had any reason forchanging at the last? The Captain's a right sort of a young man by allaccounts--he can't have done anything to displease the old lady?'

  At this point Kathie and Neville looked at each other. Neville grew veryred and Kathie's eyes flashed. Suddenly, before Kathie knew what he wasgoing to do, Neville stood up and went a step or two towards the two oldmen, who were at the other end of the carriage. They stopped talking andlooked at him.

  'I--I think you should know,' he began, growing redder still, 'beforeyou say any more of Captain Powys, that I am his son. And if anybodywere to say anything against him'--

  He had no time to finish his sentence. The older of the two farmers, forsuch they appeared to be, interrupted him eagerly.

  'Say aught against him! Bless you, little master, if you'd waited aminute you'd have heard what I was a-going to say to my friend here. Notthat he was a-going to say any wrong, but he's not from our part, and hedoesn't know Master David. And so you're Master David's boy, to be sure,and missy there?' And he nodded his head towards Kathleen inquiringly.

  'Yes, I'm his daughter,' said Kathie; 'you wouldn't expect to see ustravelling third-class, I daresay, but it's because of what you werespeaking about, our papa's not getting the property, you know.'

  The old man's face grew very sympathetic.

  'To be sure,' he said, 'to be sure. And you and master here,' he wenton, 'you'll be going to Ty-gwyn--to Miss Powys's? To be sure.'

  'To Miss Clotilda Powys,' Kathleen corrected. '_I'm_ Miss Powys.'

  'Oh, indeed,' he said, looking rather mystified. 'And miss--the ladyfrom Ty-gwyn--she'll be meeting you at the station, at Frewern Bay, nodoubt. It's a long ride from there to Ty-Gwyn.'

  'Is it?' said Neville. 'I thought the village--Hafod--was quite nearFrewern Bay.'

  The farmer shook his head.

  'It's a good sixteen mile,' he said, 'and it's going to be a wetevening. But if Miss--the lady from Ty-gwyn, meets you, it'll be allright. She'll have got a fly.'

  A very slight misgiving came over Neville. He began to hope AuntClotilda _would_ meet them. It would have certainly been moresatisfactory had there been time to have had another letter from herafter their deciding on Wednesday.

  'Are we near Frewern Bay now?' he asked the farmer.

  'In half an hour we should be there,' said he. Then he went on to tellthem that he had been away for a day or two about a horse he was goingto buy, and that he was going to stay the night at Frewern Bay with hisdaughter, who was married to the principal grocer there, and the nextmorning he should be going home to Hafod.

  'Oh, do you live there?' exclaimed the children, with fresh interest.

  'To be sure,' he said. 'Not a mile from Ty-gwyn. A pretty place it is,and many a time I've seen Master David when he used to be there as aboy.'

  'And a sad pity it shouldn't be his own now he's a man,' said the otherold farmer, by way of making amends for the speech which had so nearlygiven offence to Master David's children.

  'Mr. Wynne-Carr will never live there. He has a fine place already.'Twill be a pity to see Ty-gwyn let to strangers.'

  In this opinion, it is needless to say, Neville and Kathleen thoroughlyconcurred. Kathleen began to look upon their two old fellow-travellersmore indulgently, and to allow to herself that there might be decentpeople to be met with in a third-class carriage. But they had not timefor much more conversation before the train began to slacken inpreparation for coming to a stand-still in Frewern Bay station.

  Neville's head was poked out of the window long before this, of course.He had never seen his aunt since he was a baby, and could not possiblyhave recognised her, but he expected to identify her somehow. And in alittle country station this is not so difficult. But he looked in vain.There was nobody who could by any possibility be supposed to be MissClotilda Powys. And he drew his head in again, for the train had quitestopped by now, and it was time to be getting Kathleen out and to beseeing after her luggage.

  'Do you see her?' asked Kathie, as he handed her down.

  Neville shook his head.

  'It's raining so awfully,' he said. 'She may be in thewaiting-room'--for the station was only a half covered-in one--'or, shemay not have come herself on account of the weather, and may have sentsome one. I'll see in a minute. Just you get under shelter while I lookafter the luggage.'

  But when the luggage was got, and the train had moved on again, leavingthe little station all but deserted, the two children looked round inbewilderment and perplexity. It was too evident that no one had come tomeet them. What was to be done? The terribly heavy rain seemed to makeit much worse, and above all, the information the old farmer had giventhem as to the distance of Ty-gwyn from the station. It was impossible,quite impossible to think of waiting; but yet again, where were they toget the fly, or how were they to pay it if they did get one?

  'I have only five shillings over our fares,' said Neville. 'Mr. Fanshawthought it was quite enough, as we were sure to be met. And I should notlike Aunt Clotilda to have to pay any extra for us when we know she hasso little.'

  'But we can't stay here all night,' said Kathleen impatiently; which wascertainly true enough. 'And it's her own fault for not coming to meetus. Neville, you must do something.'

  Neville looked round in a sort of despair. There were two or threevehicles still standing just outside the gate of the station. A cart ortwo, and a queer sort of canvas-hooded van, into which the porter washoisting some parcels, though it seemed already pretty full of sacks offlour or grain of some kind. Neville opened his umbrella and went towhere these carts were standing, looking about him for some promisingsort of person to apply to in his distress.

  'Can you tell me,' he began to the porter, but the porter was shoutingin Welsh to the man in the van, and did not hear him. Neville thought hehad better wait a minute, and he stood still, shivering with cold andvexation, the rain pouring down as surely never before rain had poured.Suddenly a voice beside him made him turn round; it was that of the oldfarmer, who had till now been engaged in the stationmaster's room,talking about the horse which was coming the next day.

  'Is the lady not come? Is there no one to meet you?' he asked.

  'No, indeed,' said Neville, 'and I don't know _what_ to do.'

  The old man looked sorry and perplexed, but Neville's face brightened athaving found a friend. Just then the porter emerged again from the van.

  'Hi, John Williams!' the farmer called out, and then followed somecolloquy in Welsh, amid which Neville distinguished the words 'Hafod'and 'Ty-gwyn.'

  The farmer turned to the boy.

  'This is the Hafod carrier,' he said. 'He is going there now. He is veryfull, but he says as it is for Ty-gwyn he will make a push and take youand the young lady. But he can't take your boxes, not to-day. Still,it's a chance to get him to take yoursel's, and if you can make shift todo till to-morrow'--

  'Of course,' said Neville; 'it's the only thing to do, and thank youvery much indeed, Mr.'--

  'John Davis, sir, John Davis of Dol-bach, if you please.'

  'Mr. Davis,' continued Neville. 'Kathie,'--for by this time Kathie'sanxiety had drawn her out into the rain too,--'you hear?' And herapidly explained the state of matters.

  'If it hadn't been for Mr. Davis, the carrier wouldn't have taken us.'

  'No,' said
the farmer, looking pleased. 'I can't say as I think hewould.'

  But Kathleen could not join in thanking him. She was tired and cross,and not a little annoyed at having to make their appearance at Ty-gwynin such ignominious fashion.

  'It's really a _shame_ of Aunt Clotilda,' she said. 'I do wish we hadn'tcome. I hate Wales already.'