Six to Sixteen: A Story for Girls

  CHAPTER XXII.

  A NEW HOME--THE ARKWRIGHTS' RETURN--THE BEASTS--GOING TO MEET THEBOYS--JACK'S HATBOX--WE COME HOME A RATTLER.

  It is not often (out of a fairy tale) that wishes to change the wholecurrent of one's life are granted so promptly as that wish of mine was.

  The next morning's post brought a letter from Mrs. Arkwright. They werestaying in the south of England, and had seen the Bullers, and heard alltheir news. It was an important budget. They were going abroad oncemore, and it had been arranged between my two guardians that I was toremain in England for my education, and that my home was to be--withEleanor. Matilda was to go with her parents; to the benefit, it washoped, of her health. Aunt Theresa sent me the kindest messages, andpromised to write to me. Matilda sent her love to us both.

  "And the day after to-morrow they come home!" Eleanor announced.

  When the day came we spent most of it in small preparations and uselessrestlessness. We filled all the flower vases in the drawing-room, putsome of the choicest roses in Mrs. Arkwright's bedroom, and madeourselves very hot in hanging a small union-jack which belonged to theboys out of our own window, which looked towards the high-road. Eleanoreven went so far as to provoke a severe snub from the cook, by offeringsuggestions as to the food to be prepared for the travellers.

  The dogs fully understood that something was impending, and wanderedfrom room to room at our heels, sitting down to pant whenever we gavethem a chance, and emptying the water jug in Mr. Arkwright'sdressing-room so often that we were obliged to shut the door when Keziahhad once more filled the ewer.

  About half-an-hour after the curfew bell had rung the cab came. The dogswere not shut up this time, and they, and we, and the Arkwrights met ina very confused and noisy greeting.

  "GOD bless you, my dear!" I heard Mr. Arkwright say very affectionately,and he added almost in the same breath, "Do call off the dogs, my dear,or else take your mother's beasts."

  I suppose Eleanor chose the latter alternative, for she did not call offthe dogs, but she took away two or three tin cans with which Mr.Arkwright was laden, and which had made him look like a particularlyrespectable milkman.

  "What are they?" she asked.

  "Crassys," said Mrs. Arkwright, with apparent triumph in her tone, "andSerpulae, and two Chitons, and several other things."

  I thought of Uncle Buller's "collection," and was about to ask if thenew "beasts" were insects, when Eleanor, after a doubtful glance intothe cans, said, "Have you brought any fresh water?"

  Mrs. Arkwright pointed triumphantly to a big stone-bottle cased inwickerwork, under which the cabman was staggering towards the door. Itlooked like spirits or vinegar, but was, as I discovered, seawater forthe aquarium. With this I had already made acquaintance, having helpedEleanor to wipe the mouths of certain spotted sea anemones with acamel's-hair brush every day since my arrival.

  "The Crassys are much more beautiful," she assured me, as we helped Mrs.Arkwright to find places for the new-comers. "We call them Crassysbecause their name is Crassicornis. I don't believe they'll live,though, they are so delicate."

  "I rather think it may be because being so big they get hurt in beingtaken off the rocks," said Mrs. Arkwright, "and we were very carefulwith these."

  "I'm _afraid_ the Serpulae won't live!" said Eleanor, gazing anxiouslywith puckered brows into the glass tank.

  Mrs. Arkwright was about to reply, when the dogs burst into the room,and, after nearly upsetting both us and the aquarium, bounded out again.

  "Dear boys!" cried Eleanor. And "Dear boys!" murmured Mrs. Arkwrightfrom behind the magnifying glass, through which she was examining the"beasts."

  "I wonder what they're running in and out for?" said I.

  The reason proved to be that supper was ready, and the dogs wanted us tocome into the dining-room. Mr. Arkwright announced it in more sedatefashion, and took me with him, leaving Eleanor and her mother to followus.

  "In three days more," said Eleanor, as we sat down, "the boys will behere, and then we shall be quite happy."

  Eleanor and I were as much absorbed by the prospect of the boys' arrivalas we had been by the coming of her parents.

  We made a "ruin" at the top of the little gardens, which did not quitefulfil our ideal when all was done, but we hoped that it would lookbetter when the ivy was more luxuriant. We made all the beds look verytidy. The fourth bed was given to me.

  "Now you _are_ our sister!" Eleanor cried. "It seems to make it so realnow you have got _her_ bed."

  We thoroughly put in order the old nursery, which was now "the boys'room," a proceeding in which Growler and Pincher took great interest,jumping on and off the beds, and smelling everything as we set it out.Growler was Clement's dog, I found, and Pincher belonged to Jack.

  "They'll come in a cab, because of the luggage," said Eleanor, "andbecause we are never quite sure when they will come; so it's no usesending to meet them. They often miss trains on purpose to staysomewhere on the road for fun. But I think they'll come all right thistime--I begged them to--and we'll go and meet them in thedonkey-carriage."

  The donkey-carriage was a pretty little thing on four wheels, with aseat in front and a seat behind, each capable of holding one smallperson. Eleanor had almost outgrown the front seat, but she managed tosqueeze into it, and I climbed in behind. We had dressed Neddy's headand our own hats liberally with roses, so that our festive appearancedrew the notice of the villagers, more than one of whom, from theircottage-doors, asked if we were going to meet "the young gentlemen," andadded, "They'll be rare and glad to get home, I reckon!"

  Impatience had made us early, and we drove some little distance beforeespying the cab, which toiled uphill at much the same pace as the blacksnails crawled by the roadside. Eleanor drew up by the ditch, and westood up and waved our handkerchiefs. In a moment two handkerchiefs werewaving from the cab-windows. We shouted, and faint hoorays came backupon the breeze. Neddy pricked his ears, the dogs barked, and only thecabman remained unmoved, though we could see sticks and umbrellas pokedat him from within, in the vain effort to induce him to hasten on.

  At last we met. The boys tumbled out, one on each side, and a good dealof fragmentary luggage tumbled out after them. Clement seemed to berather older than Eleanor, and Jack, I thought, a little younger thanme.

  "How d'ye do, Margery?" said Jack, shaking me warmly by the hand. "I'mawfully glad to hear the news about you; we shall be all square now, twoand two, like a quadrille."

  "How do you do, Miss Vandaleur?" said Clement.

  "Look here, Eleanor," Jack broke in again; "I'll drive Margery home inthe donkey-carriage, and you can go with Clem in the cab. I wish you'dgive me the wreath off your hat, too."

  Eleanor willingly agreed, the wreath was adjusted on Jack's hat, and wewere just taking our places, when he caught sight of the luggage thathad fallen out on Clement's side of the cab--some fishing-rods, asquirrel in a fish-basket, and a hat-box.

  "Oh!" he screamed, "there's my hat-box! Take the reins, Margery!" and heflew over the wheel, and returned, hat-box in hand.

  "Is it a new hat?" I asked sympathizingly.

  "A hat!" he scornfully exclaimed. "My hat's loose in the cab somewhere,if it came at all; but all my beetles are in here, pinned to the sides.Would you mind taking it on your knee, to be safe?"

  And having placed it there, he scrambled once more into the front seat,and we were about to start (the cab was waiting for us, the cabmanlooking on with a grim smile at Jack, whilst energetic Eleanorrearranged the luggage inside), when there came a second check.

  "Have you got a pin?" Jack asked me.

  "I'll see," said I; "what for?"

  "To touch up Neddy with. We're going home a rattler."

  But on my earnestly remonstrating against the pin, Jack contentedhimself with pointing a stick, which he assured me would "hurt muchmore."

  "Now, cabby!" he cried, "keep your crawler back till we're well away.You'd better let us go first, or we might pass you on the road, and hurtt
he feelings of that spirited beast of yours. Do you like going fast,Margery?"

  "As fast as you like," said I.

  I knew nothing whatever of horses and donkeys, or of what their poorlegs could bear; but I very much liked passing swiftly through the air.I do not think Neddy suffered, however, though we went back at a pacemarvellously different from that at which we came. We were very lightweights, and Master Neddy was an overfed, underworked gentleman, withthe acutest discrimination as to his drivers. Jack's voice was quiteenough; the stick was superfluous. When we came to the top of the steephill leading down to the village, Jack asked me, "Shall we go down arattler?"

  "Oh, do!" said I.

  "Hold on to the hat-box, then, and don't tumble out."

  Down we went. The carriage swayed from side to side; I sat with my armstightly clasped round the hat-box, and felt as if I were flying straightdown on to the church-tower. It was delightful, but I noticed that Jackdid not speak till we reached the foot of the hill. Then he said, "Well,that's a blessing! I never thought we should get safe to the bottom."

  "Then why did you drive so fast?" I inquired.

  "My dear Margery, there's no drag on this carriage; and when I'd oncegiven Neddy his head he couldn't stop himself, no more could I. But he'sa plucky, sure-footed little beast; and I shall walk up this hill out ofrespect for him."

  I resolved to do the same, and clambered out, leaving the hat-box on theseat. I went up to Jack, who was patting Neddy's neck, on which he stuckout his right arm, and said, "Link!"

  "What?" said I.

  "Link," said Jack; and as he stuck out his elbow again in anunmistakable fashion, I took his arm.

  "We call that linking, in these parts," said Jack. "Good-evening, Mrs.Loxley. Good-evening, Peter. Thank you, thank you. I'm very glad to gethome too--I should think not!" These sentences were replies to the warmgreetings Jack received from the cottage-doors; the last to the remark,"You don't find a many places to beat t'ould one, sir, I expect!"

  "I'm very popular in the village," said my eccentric companion, with asigh, as we turned into the drive. "Though I say it that shouldn't, youthink? Well! _Ita vita. Such is life's half circle_. Do you knowLeadbetter? That's the way he construed it."

  "I know you all talk in riddles," said I.

  "Well, never mind; you'll know Leadbetter, and all the old books in thehouse by and by. Plenty of 'em, aren't there? The governor had a curateonce, when his throat was bad. _He_ said it was an Entertaining Libraryof Useless Knowledge. I've brought home one more volume to add to it.Second prize for chemistry. Only three fellows went in for it; which youneedn't allude to at head-quarters;" and he sighed again.

  As we passed slowly under the shadow of the heavy foliage, Jack, likeEleanor, put up his left arm to drag down a bunch of roses. They werefurther advanced now, and the shower of rose-leaves fell thickly likesnowflakes over us--over Jack and me, and Neddy and the carriage, withthe hat-box on the driving seat. We must have looked very queer, Ithink, as we came up out of the overshadowed road, like dwarfs out of afairy tale, covered with flowers, and leading our carriage with its oddoccupant inside.

  Keziah, who had been counting the days to the holidays, ran down firstto meet us, beaming with pleasure; though when Jack, in the futileattempt to play leap-frog with her against her will, damaged her cap,and clung to her neck till I thought she would have been throttled, sheindignantly declared that, "Now the young gentlemen was home there wasan end of peace for everybody, choose who they might be."