The Old Pincushion; or, Aunt Clotilda's Guests

  CHAPTER IX.

  THE COTTAGE NEAR THE CREEK.

  Decorative K]

  athleen was just finishing a long letter to Philippa that afternoon inthe library, when Miss Clotilda came into the room with her usual quietstep. Kathleen did not hear her till her aunt laid her hand on hershoulder. The little girl started.

  'Oh, aunty,' she said, 'I've been writing to poor Phil. Such a longletter!'

  'And long as it is, I'm afraid you will have to make it still a littlelonger,' said Miss Clotilda.

  Something in the tone of her voice made Kathleen look up. Miss Clotildawas smiling, and her pale cheeks were a little pinker than usual.

  'Listen to me, dear,' she said. 'I have thought it over, and it seems tome really right, only right and kind, to ask that poor child to come tous here. I have written to her uncle to propose it, and I have explainedthings just a little, saying that I am only here for a short time more,and that things are not as they used to be, but that we shall make hermost welcome. I thought it best to write to the uncle, as hergrandmother is so ill. You can give me the exact address, I suppose, andthe uncle's name?'

  Kathie held up Philippa's letter.

  'Yes, aunty,' she said. 'You see, it is written at the top. She told meto put "care of" to her uncle, because her name is not the same as hisand her grandmother's. He is her mother's brother. But oh, dear aunty, Ican scarcely believe you are really going to let her come! It is _too_delicious.'

  'It does not rest only with me, however, dear, you must remember,' MissClotilda said. 'You must not count upon it too surely till we hear fromher friends. They may not approve of it, or there may be difficulties inthe way of bringing her. It is rather a long way from Cheltenham, and anexpensive journey.'

  'I don't think that would matter,' said Kathleen. 'I'm almost surePhil's relations are rich, and she is an only child.'

  'Well, let us hope they will let her come,' said Miss Clotilda. 'I willsend my letter separately; but I wanted to ask you what you thought oftelling the little girl herself about it. Do you think it best to saynothing to her till we hear from her uncle, and to leave it to him totell her?'

  Kathie considered.

  'No, aunty,' she said. 'I think we needn't do that. Philippa is such a_very_ sensible little girl, I'm sure her uncle would talk to her aboutit immediately. So may I write and tell her? Oh dear, how lovely!'

  'Yes, certainly. You haven't very much time. The letters must go in halfan hour, but as you are hoping now to see her soon, you won't need tosay so very much.'

  Kathie's pen flew along the paper. She could have filled pages with theanticipated delights of Philippa's visit, and it was just as well hertime was limited. One argument she brought to bear with great force infavour of the visit. 'Be sure to tell your uncle,' she wrote, 'that yourmamma gave you into my charge at school, and that I promised her to tryto make you happy. So I am sure, if there was time to ask her, that_she_ would like you to come.'

  'I think that's very clever of me,' she said to herself, as she foldedup the letter, 'and I'm sure it's quite true. But how shall I getthrough the next two or three days till we can hear if she is coming? Imust get Neville to take me tremendously long walks.'

  The next day, fortunately, was very fine.

  'Aunty,' said Kathleen at breakfast, 'I do feel in such a fidget aboutPhilippa coming that I'm afraid I shall get quite unbearable. Don't youthink the best thing would be for Neville and me to go a very long walkto calm me down?'

  'Do very long walks generally have that desirable effect?' asked MissClotilda. 'I have no objection, provided you don't lose your way.'

  'Oh! we won't lose our way,' said Neville. 'I have a pocket compass.Besides, as you said yourself, aunty, it is a very easy country to findone's way in. There's always a hill one can climb, and once you see thesea, you can easily make out where you are.'

  'And any of the cottagers about can direct you to Ty-gwyn,' said MissClotilda. 'Well, then, if you ask Martha to make you some sandwiches,and to give you some rock cakes for "pudding," you might take yourdinners with you, and not come back till the afternoon. And,' she added,glancing out of the window as she spoke, 'I think you would do well tomake hay while the sun shines, at present--that is to say, to go a longwalk while it is fine, for I don't think this weather is going to lastabove a day or two.'

  'Oh!' Kathie exclaimed, 'I do hope it won't rain all the time Philippais here.'

  'Kathie,' said Neville, 'you are too silly. Aunty only meant that wemight have _some_ rain. She never said it would rain for weeks.'

  'That it seldom, indeed never, does here,' said Miss Clotilda. 'But, youknow, in a very hilly district you must expect uncertain weather. Ithink there is no fear for to-day, however.'

  And an hour or two later the children set off.

  'Which way shall we go?' said Kathleen. 'To the sea?'

  Neville looked round.

  'Suppose we go over there, towards that hill,' he said. 'There's a sortof creek between two little hills there--or more perhaps as if it wascut in the middle of one--that must be very pretty. Martha told me aboutit. I forget the name she called it in Welsh. She said the smugglersused to run their boats in there, for there are caves they could hidethings in.'

  'Oh, what fun!' said Kathie. 'Do let us go! Are there no smugglers now,Neville? What a pity!' she went on, as her brother shook his head. 'Itwould be so romantic to find a smugglers' cave.'

  'I don't think it would be romantic at all--at least, it wouldn't be atall pleasant,' said sensible Neville. 'In the days when there weresmugglers, if they had found us poking about their caves they wouldn'thave been very amiable to us.'

  'What would they have done to us?' asked Kathleen.

  'Pitched us into the sea, or--or gagged us, and tied our hands behindus, and left us among the rocks on the chance of any one finding us,'said Neville grimly.

  Kathleen shuddered. They were soon at the entrance to the little creekwhich Martha had described, coming upon it suddenly, as a turn in thepath brought them sharply down to a lower level. It was verypicturesque. Against the strip of blue sky seen through the fissure orcleft which formed the creek, stood out clearly the outline of a smallfishing craft, drawn up on the shingly beach; while down below, thewater, darkened by the shade of the rocks on each side, gleamed blackand mysterious.

  'WHERE ARE THE CAVES, NEVILLE?']

  'What a queer place!' said Kathleen. 'Where are the caves, Neville? Idon't see any.'

  'I suppose they are facing the sea. We must make our way round over thestones at the edge of the water if we want to see them. It isn't deep,though it looks so dark. You needn't be afraid,' said Neville, beginningthe scramble.

  But Kathleen hung back.

  'Neville,' she said, 'you're quite sure there aren't any smugglersnow?'

  'Of course not,' said Neville, rather disdainfully. 'Kathie, youshouldn't be so boasting about never being frightened, and all that, ifyou are really so babyish.'

  'I'm not babyish. Neville, you're very unkind. You never were so unkindin London,' said Kathie, looking ready to cry.

  'I don't mean to be unkind,' said Neville, stopping short in hisprogress, one foot on a big stone, the other still on the grass near theedge of the water. 'But if you're the least afraid, Kathie, either ofsmugglers or of the scramble--it will be a scramble, I see--you'd betternot come. Supposing you go up to that little cottage--there's quite anice old woman living there--while I go on to the caves? I'll come backfor you in ten minutes or so.'

  'Very well,' said Kathie; 'I think I'd better, perhaps. It isn't for thesmugglers, Neville. I wouldn't let _you_ go if there was any chance ofthere being any. But I'm rather afraid of tumbling. Are you sure it'ssafe for you, Neville?'

  'Oh, yes. Aunty told me I might go any day. She explained all about itto me.'

  'Well, then, don't be long;' and so saying, Kathleen began making herway up the slope to the little cottage Neville had pointed out.

  It was a very tiny place. There was no garden, b
ut a little patch ofgrass had been roughly railed in, and on this two or three chickens werepecking about. A very old woman came to the door on seeing Kathleenapproaching, with a smile on her brown, wrinkled, old face.

  'Good morning, miss,' she said in very good English. 'Would you like torest a bit?'

  'Thank you,' said Kathie; 'I'd like to wait a few minutes, if you don'tmind, till my brother comes to fetch me. He's gone down to see thecaves.'

  'To be sure,' said the old woman. 'Perhaps you'd like best to waitoutside; it's pleasant in the air this morning;' and she quickly broughtout a chair, and set it for Kathie against the wall of the cottage.'And you'll be the young lady and gentleman from Ty-gwyn? Dear, dear!'

  'What do you say that for?' asked Kathie, not quite sure if she waspleased or vexed at the state of the family affairs being evidentlyunderstood by this old woman.

  'No offence, miss,' said the dame. 'I'm not of this country, miss,though I've lived here nigh thirty years, and I've seen a deal in mytime. I was kitchen-maid when I was a girl in London town.'

  'Indeed,' said Kathleen; 'that must have been a _very_ long time ago;'which was perhaps not a very polite speech.

  'And so it is--a very long time ago. A matter of fifty years, miss.'

  'Indeed,' said Kathleen, opening her eyes; 'that is a very long time.'

  'And yet I can remember things as happened then as if they'd beenyesterday,' said the old woman. 'There was a queer thing happened in thehouse of my missis's father. He was a very old man, not to say quiteright in his head, and when he died there was papers missing that had todo with the money some way. And would you believe, miss, where they wasfound? In his pillow, hid right away among the feathers! There's manyfolk as'll hide money and papers in a mattress, but I never heard tellbefore or since of hiding in a pillow; and it's been in my mind eversince Farmer Davis told me of the trouble at Ty-gwyn to ask the lady ifshe'd ever thought of looking in the pillows.'

  'Who is Farmer Davis?' asked Kathleen, for the name seemed familiar.

  'Him who lives at Dol-bach,' said the old woman. 'He travelled in therailway with you and the young gentleman. You should go to see him someday, miss. He'd be proud; and the old lady thought a deal of him and hiswife.'

  'Yes,' said Kathleen, 'I'd like to go to see him. He was very kind tous. There's my brother coming,' she went on, as she caught sight ofNeville coming up the hill. 'Thank you very much for letting me waithere,' and she got up to go.

  'And you won't forget about the pillows, miss?' said the old body.

  'No, I won't,' Kathleen replied.

  'She's such a funny old woman, Neville,' she said, when they met. Andthen she went on to repeat what the dame had told her about the pillows.

  'Oh,' said Neville, 'they are all gossiping about it. It isnonsense--Mrs. Wynne wasn't out of her mind'.

  'Then do you think it's no use looking anywhere?' said Kathleen.

  'Certainly not in the pillows,' said Neville, laughing. 'I think we'dbetter have our dinner now, Kathie, don't you? Over there, just betweenthis hill and the next, I should think there would be a nice place.'

  And having found a snug corner, they established themselves comfortably.

  'Were the caves nice?' asked Kathleen.

  'Not very--at least, I didn't like to go very far alone. There was onethat looked as if it would be very nice--a great, deep, black place, butone would need a light. I'll try to go again some day, if I can getanyone to go with me. It's not fit for girls.'

  Suddenly Kathleen gave a deep sigh.

  'What's the matter?' asked Neville.

  'It's only what that old woman said. It's put it all into my headagain,' said Kathleen. 'I should have liked to tell Phil we had searched_somewhere_.'

  'Wait till she comes,' said Neville. 'She'll soon see for herself thatthere's _nowhere_ to search. I've thought and thought about it, and I'msure aunty has done everything anybody could.'

  So no more was said about it, and they finished their dinnercomfortably. Then they set off again, and climbed the hill from whencethey had been told the view was so beautiful. Nor were theydisappointed--the day was unusually clear, with the clearness that tellsof rain at no great distance, and on all sides they could see over manymiles.

  'How lovely the sea is!' said Kathleen. 'The only fault I can find withTy-gwyn is that you can't see the sea from the house. Now that houseover there, Neville--over towards the sea, but a good way from it--onthe side of a hill,' and she pointed towards it, 'must have a lovelyview of the sea. I wonder what house it is? It looks so pretty.'

  'I know,' said Neville. 'It is the old farmer's. It is Dol-bach.'

  'Old Farmer Davis's?' said Kathleen. 'Oh, that reminds me the old womanat the cottage said we should go to see him, and thank him for being sokind the day we came. Indeed, we should have gone already.'

  'Did she say so?' said Neville; 'she must be rather an impertinent oldwoman. It's no business of hers.'

  'Oh no, she isn't impertinent at all,' said Kathleen. '_She_ didn't saywe should have gone already. That was only my own thought. She said he'dbe "proud" to see us--I think that sounds very nice, Neville--and thatMrs. Wynne thought "a deal" of him and his wife. Supposing we go now,Neville, on our way home?'

  'No,' said Neville. 'I don't think it would be right to go anywherewithout asking Aunt Clotilda. But I daresay she'll let us go. I rememberold Davis said something about knowing Mrs. Wynne very well.'

  'We'll ask her,' said Kathie. 'It would be something nice to do, tokeep my mind off Phil's coming. And we might dress nicely, Neville. Itwould be more of a compliment to them, you know, if we went nicelydressed--like paying a real call.'

  They met Miss Clotilda coming to meet them, when, after a good longramble among the hills, they made their way home.

  'I have come along the road two or three times to look for you,' shesaid. 'Have you had a nice walk, and any adventures?'

  'Oh, yes,' said Kathie, and she launched at once into an account of herold woman.

  But Neville noticed that she did not mention the anecdote about thepillow. 'Perhaps it is better not to keep reminding aunty of it,' hethought. 'I am glad Kathie is so thoughtful.'

  'And may we go to see Farmer Davis, aunty?' asked Kathie eagerly.

  'Oh, certainly,' said Miss Clotilda. 'I was thinking of proposing it. Itwould have been no use going to-day, as both he and his wife were atHafod Market, I know. There are many of our neighbours I should haveliked to take you to see, both the gentlepeople and others; but it isimpossible to go about much without a horse of any kind,' she ended,with a little sigh.

  'May we go to Dol-bach to-morrow?' asked Kathie. 'I want to keep myselffrom fidgeting.'

  Miss Clotilda could not help smiling at her.

  'I have no objection,' she said, 'if the weather holds up; which,however, I have my doubts of.'

  And her doubts proved well founded. 'To-morrow' proved a very rainyday--a thoroughly and hopelessly rainy day, such as seldom is to be seenin the middle of summer, and Kathleen's spirits sank to zero. She wassure they were not going to have any more fine weather; sure a letterwould come from Philippa's uncle refusing the invitation; and very angrywith Neville for remarking that if the first prediction was fulfilled,it was almost to be hoped the second would come to pass also. And whenthe morning after broke again dull and gloomy, Miss Clotilda felt reallydistressed at Kathie's gloom.

  'My dear,' she said, 'you must make an effort to be cheerful andpatient. You cannot, at soonest, have an answer from Philippa tillto-morrow, and you cannot go to Dol-bach to-day; even if the rain leavesoff, the roads will be terribly bad. Try to think of something to do inthe house that will occupy and interest you. I am almost sure thatto-morrow will be fine.'

  Kathleen listened respectfully enough, but with a most depressed look inher face, to the beginning of this speech. Half-way through it, however,her face suddenly cleared, and a light came into her eyes.

  'Thank you, aunty,' she said. 'Yes, I have something I should like to doup i
n my own room. I won't grumble any more,' and off she set.

  'She is a dear child,' thought her aunt. 'A word suffices with her.'

  Poor Miss Clotilda! She scarcely knew her volatile, flighty little nieceas yet.