Lena Graham

  *CHAPTER IV.*

  *ON THE ROCKS.*

  The three girls started off hand in hand; Lucy between the two elderones, holding a hand of each. As it was all down-hill, they went at sucha quick pace that it was almost a run, and brought them very quickly tothe esplanade. Here they stopped and took a look round.

  As they had told their mother, it was very nearly low tide, and a longstretch of beach and rocks lay temptingly before them. Not a cloud wasto be seen in the sky; and the waves broke so softly and gently on theshore, that it was hard to associate the thoughts of storms and ragingwinds with that sparkling, lake-like sea.

  On either side of them stretched, as far as the children could see, thebroad, handsome esplanade, now quite a gay sight with the many peoplewho had been tempted out by the warm sun, either to sit or walk up anddown, while enjoying the beauty and freshness of the day. In thedistance a band was playing, the soft strains of which were heard by thechildren as they stood gazing about them.

  "A band!" cried Lucy. "O Milly, do let us go and hear it closer--docome;" and she pulled her sisters in the direction from which the soundcame.

  "Mama might not like us to go; and besides, Lucy, there are such lots ofpeople there," said Milly.

  Lena did not at all approve of this speech of Lucy's. It was notMilly's permission she ought to have asked, but hers. _She_ was theeldest, and had already said that she would take care of them, or, asshe would have expressed it, "had promised Mama to take care of them."And besides, she knew the place, and was at home here, which Millicentcertainly was not.

  So, as soon as Milly had spoken, she said--

  "Why shouldn't we go? The people won't hurt us. Come along, Milly,"she added impatiently, as the latter drew back.

  "But, Lena, Mama didn't give us leave. She said we might go to thebeach, and"----

  "And so we are going. We can go down to it near the band, and Lucy canhear it, as she wants to so much."

  "Yes, I do want to," said Lucy, dropping Milly's hand and going forwardwith Lena.

  "We shall hear it just as well down here, and it will be much nicer onthe rocks than among all those people."

  "It's because you are shy and afraid. You want Lucy not to hear it."

  Now like many shy, sensitive people, Milly couldn't bear to be calledso. She felt as if it was wrong and a disgrace to be shy. So she said,"I don't think Mama would like it. I should like it otherwise."

  "I'm the eldest, and know that it's all right; so come along, it's nogood wasting all our time doing nothing." And she started off withLucy, who was delighted at the prospect of going to see, as well ashear, the band.

  It was a much longer walk than any of them had expected, and by the timethey got there, Lucy was rather tired; so they found a seat and sat andlistened to the music for some time. Milly's shyness at finding herselfamong a number of people soon wore off, when she found that no one tookany notice of them; and Lena's assurance that she had often come, withonly a companion of her own age, reassured her as to the propriety ofthe proceeding, so they all enjoyed themselves listening to the musicand watching the varied throng around them, until Lucy became tired ofsitting still and proposed that they should go to the rocks. It was nouse going back to those nearer home, so they ran down the first stepsthey came to, and were soon close to the water's edge, hard at work withspade and bucket.

  Leaving Milly and Lucy to play on the sand, Lena wandered off to therocks. This was much more exciting work, and she went back in a veryshort time to invite the others to come there also.

  "Bring your bucket, Lucy, and we will try and catch you a dear littlecrab," promised Lena, as they all went off together. But very soon therocks proved too difficult for poor little Lucy; they were rough andslippery, and she slipped about in the most helpless manner. With theaid of her sister's hand she managed for a little, then, emboldened byher success, she tried to go alone, but alas! it was for a very littleway. Down she came on the sharp wet stones, cutting both hand and legin the fall, raising a loud cry of pain and terror as she did so. Hersisters were beside her in a moment, consoling and lifting her on tosmoother ground. But some time elapsed before she was comfortedsufficiently to be left.

  "You are all right now, Lucy, aren't you?" said Lena coaxingly.

  "It hurts still," said Lucy mournfully.

  "But, Lucy, if we don't go we shall not be able to catch you a crab,"continued Lena.

  This was too tempting an offer to be refused; even the injured hand wasforgotten before such an alluring prospect, and Lucy promised to stayand amuse herself with her spade, until the others returned with thepromised crab.

  "You will be sure and not leave this part until we come back," saidMilly.

  "You are a good little girl, Lucy," said Lena, giving her a kiss.

  "Now, Milly, we will have a grand scramble. Let us try and go out tothose quite far out, the big ones I mean, and let the water come allround us."

  And she started off, jumping from rock to rock with the confidence andsurefootedness gained by many a former scramble. Not so Milly, who wasnew to the work, and only too glad to avail herself of Lena's hand andhelp.

  Soon they were both at the furthest point, proudly waving theirhandkerchiefs back to Lucy, who, poor little body, sat quietly playingfor some time by herself, quite happy with her spade. For how long shedid not know, but it must have been for some time. She could see hersisters at some distance off, evidently very busy about something,"catching the crab" they had promised to bring her, she supposed. Itmust be very interesting work, she thought, thus to engross theirattention, and keep them away so long. Why should not she try her handat it also? was the conclusion she arrived at ere long. Rising fromwhere she was seated, she wandered off, and very soon was searching inthe pools of water that lay, left by the receding tide, at the edge ofthe rocks, quite happy, and delighted with all the beauties she descriedin their clear depths.

  Is it any wonder that we, as well as the children, are enchanted, andforget the passing hours as we search out "the treasures of the deep"that are left by the receding waves, to give us a glimpse, as it were,of the "wondrous things" that lie hidden in their depths? And aboveall, what mysteries and beauties of God's love does the sea show forthto the thoughtful mind; and who can help being thoughtful and awed asthey gaze on that mighty work of the Creator, and think how He who rulesthe raging waters, and who said of old, "Hitherto shalt thou come, butno further, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed," is the sameloving Father who watches over and guards the weakest and smallest ofHis children, and without whose knowledge not "even a sparrow falleth tothe ground"? No wonder then that Lena and Milly became so absorbed andinterested as they searched among the pools, some of which were quitelarge and deep, for the crab they had promised to catch and take back toLucy; though I fear this their original intention was soon forgottenamong all the new delights that they discovered, and the time slippedaway as if it were a thing of not the slightest consequence.

  At first they often took a look to see if their little sister was safe,and every time they did so, they saw her sitting in the same place, busywith her spade. At last Milly exclaimed, "O Lena, I don't see Lucy; wemust go back and look for her."

  Lena looked round, rather startled also. Then she answered, "How stupidof us to be frightened! Of course she's hidden behind the rocks. Wehave moved ever so far since the last time we looked."

  "I will go back and see. I wish we had brought her on with us."

  "She couldn't have managed to scramble along these rocks. She is allright, I am sure."

  "I won't be long going back to look. Mama trusted me to look afterher."

  Lena flushed. This was her weak point, and as Milly spoke, an angryfeeling started up in Lena's mind at the thought, perhaps "Mama hadspoken to Milly privately, and told her to look after Lucy." "Shetrusts her more than she trusts me," were the words she used to herself.Out loud she said, "Mama said I w
as to take charge of you both. What didshe say to you, Milly?"

  "To be careful of Lucy," said Milly, without looking at her sister. Shewas gazing earnestly about to see if she could see Lucy, and so didn'tobserve the changed expression on Lena's face. When she did turn round,Lena was stooping down peering into the water.

  "You can go back then if you like. I must get that bit of seaweed forAuntie, and then I will follow you," she said without raising her head.

  "Don't be long, will you, Lena?"

  "No, and I will soon overtake you, if you go slipping and stumblingabout as you did coming." The words were not either kindly said ormeant.

  Milly looked vexed. "I did not mean to put you out by asking you tohurry, Lena."

  Lena vouchsafed no answer to this; so Milly went on, "I know I can'tmanage half so well as you do--come and help me."

  Still silence. So after lingering for a minute or two, Milly startedoff.

  She had not gone very far when Lena heard a cry of pain, and looking up,saw Milly raising herself and looking ruefully at her hand. She hadevidently hurt herself, and conscience gave Lena a sharp prick, thatrecalled her to her better self. Alas! poor Lena little knew to what astrong enemy she was opening her heart. She would have indignantlydenied that she was jealous of Milly,--no one ever does like to confessthat they are that of anybody,--but it was the truth, and twice that dayhad she allowed it entrance "only just for a moment;" but it is quitewonderful how a very little giving in to strengthens our faults. "Illweeds grow apace" is only too true. The sweet flowers want a great dealof care and cultivation; but then when they do come to perfection, howthey repay us for all the toil and care, and what happiness they give,not only to the owner, but to all around!

  Lena sprang forward, and was soon beside her sister, whom she foundtying up her hand with her handkerchief and trying hard to keep back thetears.

  "Have you cut it much, Milly? let me look."

  Milly undid the handkerchief, and showed a deep cut on the palm of herhand. "The salt water makes it smart so," she explained, blinking hereyes fast to get rid of the tell-tale tears.

  "It is a deep one. Cover it up again; I will help you," and she tiedthe handkerchief again.

  "Thank you, Lena. I have cut my leg too; was not it stupid! I wastrying to hurry, and forgot how slippery it was."

  Together they went on, jumping and scrambling from rock to rock.

  "We ought to see her now. I am sure that is the place where we lefther."

  Yes, there was the place, and plenty signs in the scattered sand, thatsome small person had been at work; but no Lucy was to be seen.

  They looked at one another in alarm. What could have become of her?

  "Oh, I wish we had never left her!" burst out Milly.

  "It's very naughty of her to Lave moved, when we told her not to," saidLena.

  There was no good standing there, wondering any longer, so they startedoff to look for her.

  "Let us ask those children near if they have seen her," proposed Lena;and running down to where they were at play, they inquired of them ifthey had seen their little sister. "She was sitting playing there closeto the rocks."

  "Yes, they had seen her, but she had gone away some time ago in thatdirection," pointing fortunately to the direction that led towards home.

  "And I don't wonder either; it must have been jolly dull for her all byherself," remarked a boy loud enough for the two girls to hear, as theywere hurrying off to look for Lucy.

  They both blushed scarlet, as they heard these words, and knew that theywere meant to hear them. "What a horrid rude boy! But, Milly, I wishwe had not left her now."

  "So do I," was the answer given with a sigh.

  As they skirted the rocks, they came upon a long stretch of sand, nowwell covered with children. Close to the water's edge were several ofthem paddling, their bare legs gleaming in the water as they danced andjumped about. And there among them, gazing with delight at theirantics, was the missing Lucy. So close was she to the water, that thelittle waves not only crept up close to her feet, but rippled gentlyover them, much to the child's delight, who clapped her hands andscreamed with pleasure at every wetting.

  "You naughty child!" said Lena, as she rushed up to her, followed moreslowly by Milly, who was limping from the cut on her leg.

  Lucy turned round, her rosy little face beaming with delight, not onewhit abashed by Lena's angry words.

  "You naughty child! what made you leave and give us such a fright?"Lena was like many other people who have been frightened; when oncetheir fears are removed, they give vent to their feelings by beingangry, and, strange to say, consider they have a right to be aggrieved."You are so wet, too; what will Mama say?"

  "That you ought not to have left me," said Lucy, with a saucy laugh.

  Lena was too much taken aback to answer this, and Lucy, seeing heradvantage, continued, "You and Milly are just as wet as I am;" and shepointed to their feet and dresses, which certainly were both wet anddirty.

  Several of the paddlers had gathered round to listen to theconversation, and as Lucy pointed triumphantly to her sister's wet feet,they all raised a laugh. For a moment Lena looked very angry; butcatching Milly's eyes, which were dancing with suppressed laughter, theabsurdity of it all struck her also, and she joined in the laugh.

  "I expect you will all catch it, when you go home," remarked one of thesmall bystanders in a delighted tone.

  "Come, Lucy, it is time to go home."

  "Not yet; it's such fun here, I mean to stay," said Lucy, who was soelated at having silenced Lena's scolding, that she thought she might dowhat she chose.

  A laugh from the listeners egged Lucy on in her naughtiness.

  Milly's "O Lucy, how can you be so naughty!" was taken no notice of.

  Lena, with heightened colour but in silence, walked off to where a ladywas sitting, reading, and asked politely, if she would "tell her thetime."

  "Five-and-twenty minutes to seven," was the answer as she looked at herwatch.

  As late as that, and they were told to be home by six! "Thank you," shesaid to the lady, then hurried back to Milly and told her the hour.

  "We must go home at once," she exclaimed.

  "Will Mama be very angry?"

  "Not when we tell her we did not mean to be naughty, and did not knowthe time. She will be frightened though; I wish Lucy would be good andcome."

  "She must," said Lena shortly. Going up to the child she took hold ofher by the arm and said, "We are going home now, Lucy; it's very late,and Mama will be vexed."

  Lucy looked up saucily--"That's to make me come, but I am not goingyet."

  "Yes, you are; it's long after six." She pulled Lucy away from thewater, Milly took hold of her by the other hand, and together theydragged her away, screaming lustily.

  All eyes were fixed upon them, making both the elder girls veryuncomfortable. They knew they were right in going home, but still thushaving to drag their little sister away by main force made them, theythought, appear very unkind in the eyes of the bystanders.

  "O Lucy, do be good and come quietly," entreated Milly.

  "You must come, Lucy, so there is no good making all this fuss," addedLena.

  "I am not going to obey Lena. I'll go with Milly, but I don't loveLena; she's horrid." And pulling her arm away from Lena's restraininggrasp, she struck wildly at her, to push her away.

  Lucy's words were but added fuel to Lena's wrath. Seizing the childfirmly by her shoulders she gave her a good shaking, saying as she didso, "I don't care if you like me or not, but you must do what I tellyou."

  "O Lena, don't be angry; she does not mean what she says, I know shedoesn't," said Milly.

  The shaking so took Lucy by surprise, for she was unaccustomed to suchstrong measures, that she stopped screaming, and gazed at Lena's angryface in open-mouthed astonishment.

  In the midst of this scene Hester's voice was heard exclaiming, "MissLena, whatever is the matter? That's not the
way to treat your littlesister. I wonder at you, that I do!"

  At the sound of Hester's voice, Lena quickly removed her hands fromLucy's shoulders, and turning to her said, "She has been so naughty,Hester; she would not come home, though we told her it was late, and shewent on screaming."

  "But you hurt me," sobbed the child. "I would have gone with Milly,because she's kind and nice."

  "That's a wicked story, Lucy. You know quite well Milly had to drag youalong as well as I; hadn't you, Milly?"

  "Yes," she asserted; "but, Lucy, you will be good now?"

  "You should not have been so rough with her, Miss Lena; you don'tunderstand how to manage children."

  "No, she does not," agreed Lucy. "I will go home with you, Hester,"clinging affectionately to her new ally, as she considered Hester.

  "Your mother was so nervous at your being so late, that Miss Somervillesent me to look for you."

  "Come on, Lena," said Milly, and linking her arm into her eldersister's, they hurried on first, followed by Hester and Lucy.

  At first neither of the two girls spoke as they walked quickly along,but soon the steep hill, they had to ascend, made them slacken theirpace.

  "Lena," said Milly, "you are not still angry with Lucy; she is sodreadfully passionate sometimes, but she does not mean all she says."

  "Then she ought to be punished," was the short answer.

  "So she always is. And she does not get into rages nearly as often asshe did, because she knows how wicked it is, and how it grieves the LordJesus," said Milly reverently, adding, as a sort of apology for herlittle sister, "And she is very young, you know."

  The life of a child in India is very different to what it is in thiscountry; and Millicent, thoughtful and gentle by nature, had become moreso, from having been the constant companion of her parents; for in thehill station, where their home was situated, she had no companion of herown age. The few children that were near them were all quite little,and looked upon Milly as "quite old" in comparison. Mrs. Graham hadbeen very far from well, the last two years of their stay, and whenColonel Graham had to be away, as he often was obliged to be, on duty,it was Milly's delight and privilege to be her mother's loving littlenurse and attendant. And Mama loved to have her gentle little daughterbeside her, during the long days of weakness that followed the attacksof fever from which she suffered; and Milly would sit so quietly withher work, or read out to her, but oftenest they spoke of the dear childand sister in the English home. In this way, Mama soon began to dependupon her little nurse, and even to consult her, when Papa was away, uponmany subjects; and she dearly liked to be consulted and trusted by Mama,and would put on an air of wisdom, and answer quite gravely and sedatelyon such occasions, and was beginning to think herself almost grown-upcompared to little Lucy, who was full of baby fun and frolic, and apt tobecome so wild and noisy that she would disturb Mama, if Milly did notamuse her and keep her good. "She was a pet and a darling, and didn'tknow better," Milly would say at such times. It was only natural then,that Milly considered it her duty to apologise for her little sister'soutburst of naughtiness. As Lena made no answer, she went on, "Youwon't mind, Lena dear, will you?"

  "It's very hard," burst out Lena. "Mama trusted her to me, so she oughtto have obeyed me; and Hester blames me, I know she does, from what shesaid, and she takes her part, and she has been my nurse, and ought tolike me best; but nobody does love me but Auntie."

  "O Lena, I do, and Papa and Mama, and Lucy."

  "But they all love you best. Mama always asks you about things,and"----

  Here Milly interrupted, with a look of distress--it had never dawnedupon her before that Lena doubted her mother's love, or had what shecalled such dreadful thoughts--"How can you say such things, Lena? Itis not kind and it is not true," she added with spirit.

  They had nearly reached the gate of Scarsdale Villa by this time, andthere stood Mrs. Graham, looking out anxiously for them, and now hurriedto meet them, thus preventing any more conversation between the sisters.

  "Here you are, my darlings; I was beginning to fear something hadhappened. And there is Lucy lagging behind, I see." One look at herchildren's faces, showed Mama that something had gone wrong. Millylooked distressed, and Lena's usually bright open countenance was nowvery clouded. Putting her arm round Lena, she drew her to her side, andkissing her, said, "What has made you so late, dear?"

  What power there is for good in the gentle word or the loving gesture!The mere fact of her mother having put her arm round her, and havingspoken to her first, brushed away, for the moment, the hard jealousthoughts, that had been finding room in Lena's heart.

  "I am so sorry, Mama, we are late," she said, looking up with an alteredexpression. "We were so interested and happy on the rocks, we did notknow how fast the time was going."

  "How did you find out at last?"

  "We asked a lady, and it was five-and-twenty minutes to seven; we wereso astonished."

  "Now run and take off your wet things, and come down to tea. Millylooks tired; are you, darling?"

  "A little, Mama, not very."

  "She has cut her hand, Mama, and her leg too, that is what makes herwalk like that. Fancy my forgetting it!"

  "I will tell Hester to take Lucy to the nursery then. I will come andsee to you, dear," said Mrs. Graham to Milly, as she watched them go upto their rooms; then went out again to meet Hester and Lucy, who by thistime had also reached the house.