CHAPTER X
'IT'S ANOTHER SNAIL'
It was the next morning at breakfast that another strange thinghappened. It was when the letters came.
We did not get them quite so early as at home, for it would have broughtthe postman a good deal out of his way to come down to the Hut, so ithad been arranged for him to leave them at the lodge, and for them to besent on from there.
This morning there were only two: one for mamma--a long one, it seemed,but not a foreign one, as I saw by a glance at the thick paper while shewas reading it. But I had not noticed anything about Taisy's, and when aqueer kind of little gasp made me look round at her, my first thoughtwas that there was bad news of papa, which some one had somehow sentfirst to her--Taisy--for her to 'break it,' as they say, to mamma.
And my heart began to beat furiously, and no wonder, I think, for Taisywas as white as the tablecloth, and was evidently on the point ofbursting into tears.
'Taisy, Taisy,' I whispered. Luckily she was sitting next me, so that Icould speak to her in a low voice without being overheard. 'Is it--oh,is it, anything wrong with papa?' and I felt myself clasping my handstogether under the table in an agony of terror.
_My_ face brought back Taisy's presence of mind.
'No, no,' she said. 'Nothing of that kind--nothing wrong really. I knowI am very silly,' and already the colour was coming back to her cheeks,for she was not a nervous or delicate girl at all. 'It is only--oh, Imust tell auntie first, and then you will understand the sort of frightI got.'
She stopped abruptly, for just then mamma looked up from her letter andspoke to Taisy. She was smiling a little, which made me feel all themore puzzled as to what was the matter with Taisy when I heard her replyto mamma's question, 'Have you too a letter from your grandmother?''Yes, auntie,' as if the two words were all she could force herself tosay.
Still, mamma did not notice her peculiar manner. She herself turnedagain to her letter.
'I must say my respect for our gypsy has risen,' she remarked, 'though Isuppose it is really only a rather odd coincidence.'
At this Taisy's colour changed again and her lips began to quiver. And,happening to glance across the table, I saw that Esme's mouth was wideopen, and that she was staring gravely at Taisy, in a way quite unusualwith her. I could not make it out at all.
Breakfast was over by this time. Mamma turned to the children.
'Run off, dears, but don't be very long. You have just time for a littleblow before Taisy and Ida are ready for lessons.'
'But, mamma,' began Esme, 'I want to speak to Taisy first.'
'No "buts," Esme,' said mamma decidedly. We were well used to them.'Taisy won't be ready to speak to you just yet. Run off at----' she hadnot time to finish the sentence before she at last noticed Taisy; thetears were really starting by now, and her breath came in little chokes.'Go, children,' mamma repeated, looking startled, 'and Geordie, dear,you had better be getting ready for Kirke.'
Geordie, big boy as he was, was very obedient. He got up, first catchinghold of Denzil by his sailor collar, to make him hurry up.He--George--must have been as puzzled as any one, for he had no idea ofcourse what the letters contained. But he contented himself with a kindof reassuring nod to Taisy as he left the room, and a sign to me as hegave a little gesture of the hand in her direction, as much as to say,'Be good to her, Ida.'
Then Taisy broke down and fairly sobbed. Mamma got up and came round toher.
'My dearest child,' she said, 'what _is_ the matter? It has something todo with your grandmother's letter, I can see. Do you dislike thisboy--what is his name--oh yes, Rolf--Rolf Dacre--that she writes about?'
'Oh no, no, indeed. He is a very nice boy, as nice as he can be,' Taisyreplied, amidst her tears. 'It isn't that at all. It's--it's about thegypsy--the saying it like a prophecy--it wasn't right. I--I shouldn'thave done it, but I thought it was no harm, only fun;' and she begansobbing again.
For a moment or two mamma and I stared at each other, as if we thoughtTaisy was losing her wits. Then gradually light began to break in uponus.
"_You_ shouldn't have done it," you say, dear,' mamma repeated. 'Do youmean--can you mean----'
Taisy nodded.
'Yes,' she said; 'you have guessed it, I see. But please do not be angrywith me. I meant no harm.'
'Then _you_ were the gypsy,' mamma exclaimed, as if she could scarcelybelieve it.
'And,' I added, 'the little boy was--oh, he was Esme, I suppose. Thatwas why she was looking so queer at breakfast.'
'Was she?' said Taisy, 'I didn't notice. Yes, she was the little boy. Idid not mean to mix her up in it, but she came poking about when theboys were helping me to dress up, and we thought the best way to keepher quiet was for her to join in it. But, auntie--I was going to tellyou all about it to-day--you believe me, don't you?' and she lifted suchan appealing, tear-stained face to mamma, that mamma could not helppatting it reassuringly and kissing her.
'It was very cleverly done--very,' she said. 'And I see no harm in alittle trick of the kind if not carried too far. The only thing is--Whydid you not unmask yourself at once? Perhaps--for Esme's sake--it wouldhave been better not to keep up the mystification so long.'
'I know,' said Taisy, calmer now, but speaking very humbly, 'that iswhat I did wrong. It might have led to her telling what was untrue. Lastnight when you were pitying the child--who was _not_ my son orgrandson'--and here Taisy's sunny nature broke out again in one of herown merry laughs--'I could _scarcely_ keep it in.'
'But why did you, then?' I asked.
'Oh, that is what I wanted to explain! I had a sort of wager withGeordie. He said I might take you both in _once_, but certainly nottwice, and he dared me to try it. So I made a second plan. I was comingagain to-day--quite differently--dressed like a rather old-maidish lady,who wanted to know if you would let her have rooms here, as the sea-airand pine-wood air would be so good for her. I meant to have made hervery pertinacious, and very funny, and I wanted you to get quite crosswith her, auntie dear,' and Taisy could not help a little sigh ofregret. 'That was why the gypsy foretold that you were going to haveanother unexpected visitor. I wasn't quite happy about it. When I wokein the night, I felt as if I was carrying the trick too far, as you say.And then when I got Granny's letter about another _real_ visitor, all ofa sudden I felt so frightened--as if my joke had been turned intoearnest as a punishment for my--my daring to predict anything.'
'Yes, I understand,' said mamma; 'but do not get exaggerated about it.'
Then she was silent for a moment or two and seemed to be thinking itover.
'Was Esme to have come again?' I asked.
Taisy shook her head.
'Oh no--it was on condition of her keeping quite out of the way thesecond time--for of course she would have begun giggling if she had seenme, and spoilt it all--that I let her act the gypsy boy.'
'I think,' said mamma, 'that I must unconsciously have recognisedsomething about her--that it was some feeling of that kind that made meso sorry for the boy. But about the whole affair--well, yes, Taisy dear.Perhaps it was scarcely right--not _quite_ respectful to one so mucholder than you as I am to let it go on so long. And not quite a goodthing for Esme.'
'I know--I see,' said Taisy very penitently.
'But,' mamma continued, 'don't exaggerate it now. I will--and you willhelp me to do so--put it all right by a little explanation to Esme. Anddon't get it into your head that the coincidence of a real visitor beingproposed to us is in any way a "punishment" to you for your piece offun, though I can understand your feeling startled.'
'Oh!' exclaimed Taisy, 'I shall never forget what I felt when I openedGranny's letter and saw what it was about.'
'Then,' said mamma, 'you had no sort of idea that the thing was theleast possible?'
'Not the very slightest,' Taisy replied. 'You see it has happenedunexpectedly to every one.'
'Yes,' said mamma, glancing again at her letter; 'but you know Rolf?'
'I have not seen him for more th
an a year,' said Taisy. 'He spent one ortwo short holidays with us when his aunt, Miss Merry, was with Granny.He is a very nice boy. I am sure George would like him, though he is twoyears or so older than Dods.'
I was growing rather impatient by this time to hear all about thecontents of the letters which had caused such a sensation.
'Do tell me about it, mamma,' I said. 'Is it some one else coming tostay with us? Where _could_ we put any one?'
Taisy began to laugh.
'That's the fun of it,' she said. 'It's another snail--some one who willbring his house with him!'
Mamma laughed too, but I could see that she was thinking over the newproposal, whatever it was, rather seriously. Then between them they toldme all about it.
It appeared that Aunt Emmeline's friend, Miss Merry, had a nephew, theson of a sister, much, much younger than herself, who had died someyears ago. The boy's father was in India, so he sometimes, though notalways, spent his holidays with his aunt. And this spring something hadhappened--I forget what exactly--illness at his school, or his leavingschool for some reason, sooner than had been expected--which left himwith nowhere to go to for some time.
'As ill-luck would have it,' Lady Emmeline wrote to mother, 'just asTaisy had gone to you, and Bertha Merry and I were settled cosilytogether, down comes this thunderbolt in the shape of a greathobbledehoy of a boy, who would be utterly out of his element with twoelderly ladies and sure to get into mischief. Not that he is not a nicefellow and a good boy--I know him to be both, otherwise I wouldcertainly not propose what I am going to do.'
And this was the proposal which she had written about--she or MissMerry, or both perhaps--to Taisy too--that Rolf should come to us at theHut, and join Geordie, if possible, in his lessons with Mr. Lloyd, andbe just one of the family for the time. _He_ would be as happy as a boycould be; of that his aunt was sure, and would do anything in his power,like a big brother, to help mamma with the younger ones. But the fun ofthe thing was, that he would bring his room with him! There would be nodifficulty about the expense of it. His father was rich and Rolf an onlychild, and his aunt was free to spend whatever she thought right uponhim, and being a very energetic little woman, as I think many old maidsare, she had already written to some place where such things were to begot, to get sizes and prices and everything required for a neat littleiron room, fitted up as a bedroom; and if mamma was so very, very kindas to agree to take him in, Rolf would be ready to come the very nextweek.
Of course we talked it over a lot. It had to be considered if Hoskinsand Margery could manage another guest, and we were almost surprised tofind how pleased Hoskins was about it. 'Miss Theresa,' she said, 'wassuch a help; there had not seemed half so much to do since she came. Andthe weather was getting so nice and mild, we would scarcely need firesat all soon, except perhaps 'a little bit, of an evening in thedrawing-room.' And it would be such a good thing for Master George tohave a companion a little older than himself before going to school,which mamma in her own mind had already thought the same about.
I never knew Hoskins quite so cheery about anything. I think the truthwas, that she had thoroughly enjoyed the gypsy mystification which hadbeen confided to her. And I believe, at the bottom of her heart, shethought that somehow or other Taisy had had a sudden gift of prediction,and that it would be very unlucky to refuse to receive the unlooked-forvisitor.
Anyhow it ended in mamma's writing to Aunt Emmeline and Miss Merry,consenting pleasantly to Rolf's joining us, provided he promised, orthey for him, to be content with our present very simple quarters andway of living.
'That I am sure he will be,' said Taisy, who had quite recovered herspirits by the time, or rather long before, the letters were written.'Any boy would be a goose who wasn't delighted with the Hut, and Rolf iscertainly not a goose.'
The only person who did not seem quite pleased about it was George. Atfirst I thought this very strange, as naturally you would have expectedhim to be very delighted at the idea of a companion of his own standing,so to say, which he had never had. But Dods was a queer boy in somerespects. He is less so now on the whole, though he is just as dear and'old-fashioned,' in nice ways, as ever, and I do think the _right_ waysin which he has changed are a good deal thanks to Rolf.
Perhaps Geordie was a little jealous of him before he came, withoutknowing it. It was not unnatural, considering everything. Poor old Dods,you see, had been left by papa in his own place, as the 'man' of theparty, and we had all got into the habit of looking to him and evenasking his opinion as if he were much older than he really was. And thenhe was so devoted to Taisy; he looked upon himself as a sort of knightto her, I do believe, for down below his matter-of-factness andpracticalness, I know now that there is a good deal of romance, andwhat I can only call poeticalness in dear Geordie, so that the idea of abig, handsome, rather dashing fellow coming to take place above him musthave been rather trying.
I shall never forget the day Rolf arrived. I had been feeling sorry forGeordie, as I had begun to understand his rather disagreeable mannerabout Rolf, and yet provoked with him too. I did not see after all, Ithought to myself, why he should mind Rolf's coming, any more than Iminded Taisy. For though Taisy was our own cousin and we loved herdearly, she could not but take a _little_ the place of eldest daughterwith mamma, and if she had not been so sweet, it might have beenuncomfortable.
And after all, Rolf was a stranger--and only to be with us a short time.There was far less chance of his really interfering with Geordie's ownplace.
These things however are not often set straight by reasoning about them.
It is the people themselves--their characters and ways andfeelings--that put it all right if it is to be put right.
And just as Taisy's brightness and unselfishness and simpleness--I can'tfind a better word--kept away any possibility of jealousy of her on myown part, so it was with Rolf. He and she were no sort of relation toeach other, and yet in some ways they were very alike. I never did know,and I am sure I never shall know, any one with such a thoroughlystraightforward, unfanciful, and yet very loving and sympathising heartas Rolf. When I think--but no, I must not allude to that yet--I couldscarcely bear to write of these past happy days if I did.
But I am wandering away from the day of Rolf's arrival. It was not ofcourse a 'balloon surprise,' as Dods called Taisy's shooting down uponus as she had done, for we knew exactly what train he was coming by, andeverything. And it was not so like a 'snail's visit,' which was Taisy'sown name for hers, as in this case the house came before the snail--theday before.
It was a different kind of thing from the parish room--that verysubstantial affair. This was more like a strong, stout kind oftent--only it did not go up to a quite small point at the top, as I hadimagined all tents do. But it was partly made of stretched canvas, withiron rods and bars, and the men who put it up told us it was fireproofas well as waterproof, which mamma was very glad to hear, especiallywhen she saw that a small stove was among the furnishings that came withit.
George was very pleased to find that the men from Kirke who had receivedfull directions about it all, from the makers, had instructions to setit up wherever we thought best. It almost reconciled him, I could see,to the idea of the stranger boy's visit--even to being pleased at it.
And we three--Taisy and Geordie and I--were not long in finding the bestplace for the new addition to our encampment. We made it a sort ofmatch, on the other side, to Taisy's waggon, though, as it was muchprettier to look at, it was placed so that a bit of it showed from thefront of the house in a rather picturesque way.
Inside it really was awfully nice when we got the things unpacked. Therewas everything that could be wanted for camping out, for I don't thinkthe people had understood that only an additional bedroom was required.They had even sent pots and pans and things like that for cooking, ifrequired, on the stove.
'All the better,' said Hoskins, whose face grew beamier and beamier withevery article that appeared. 'I shall not be put about now if anythinggoes wrong with
the kitchen fire, as has been at the back of my mind nowand then. Master Dacre, by what Miss Theresa says, isn't one to grumbleif we had to do a bit of cooking in his room, once in a way.'
'No, indeed,' said Taisy laughing; 'he'd think it the best of fun and bequite ready to act kitchen-maid.'
She declared she was getting quite jealous, as all the perfectly new andfresh furniture and fittings were set in their places, for of course herwaggon had been provided with what she required in rather a makeshiftway. There were tables and chairs and hanging presses and bookshelvesall made to fold up into next to no compass; a squashy bath, which I did_not_ envy, as I was sure it would topple over and all the water bespilt. And there was a lovely red carpet, or strips of it, so thick andfirm, which I _did_ envy, as what we had in our rooms was rather shabby,and two or three rugs, which, by the bye, soon found their way to theinside of the Hut, when Rolf discovered that we liked them, declaringthat they were always kicking about in his way.
'Yes,' said mamma, when we summoned her to see and admire, 'it iswonderfully nice. And I am glad it has all come the day before. It makesit seem more like Rolf's being our guest, that his room should be allready to receive him.'
Then Esme made us laugh. She had been standing gazing at it all with hermouth wide open, as was her way when very much interested or veryadmiring. And then she said, solemnly for once--
'He must be very--termenjously rich!'
After all, something of a surprise _did_ come with Rolf, which I mustnow tell about.