Page 11 of Jill: A Flower Girl

his pockets, and pulling out his store ofgold and silver, spread his treasures on the bed. Bob's eyes began toglitter, and his face turned white.

  "Oh, Tom," he gasped, "you're a thief."

  "I ain't," said Tom. "It's Jill's, and what's Jill's is mine. Ain't Iher brother? Think on her saving it all up, and us being pinched and'arf starved. Mean, I calls it, despert mean. Well, she can save somemore. She ain't never goin' to see this swag agin." Bob began slowlyand cautiously to wriggle himself out of bed. He slipped on histrousers and his little jacket with trembling haste.

  "Are we to be pals in it?" he said, looking at Tom. "Ef I don't split,are we to go pals?"

  "I don't mind givin' yer some on it," said Tom. "But pals--that means'arf and 'arf--no thank yer, young un."

  Bob edged himself between Tom and the door of the room.

  "Look yere," he said, "ef yer don't go arf, I'll screech out, and Jill'ull come. I'm atween you and the door, and I'll screech orful loud,and Jill 'ull come afore you gits down-stairs, so now you knows. It's'arf the swag with me, or its none."

  Tom's eyes shot forth little rays of wrath, but he knew that Bob had aqueer obstinate tenacity of his own, and he thought it best to humourhim.

  "All right," he said, "don't screech. We'll go pals. 'Spose as we runsaway."

  "I 'ates that book-shop," said Bob.

  "And I'm run to death by the Boy Messenger Company," said Tom in agloomy voice. "'Spose we goes to sea, Bob."

  "'Spose we does," said Bob, with a little yelp. "`A life on the rollingwave'--oh, my stars, won't it be fine?"

  "Mother has run away too," said Tom. "There's her letter on the top ofthe dresser. It was seeing her helping herself out of the stocking asput me up to it. She took some of the money, and she left the key inthe drawer, that's how I come by this jolly find. You read her letter,Bob."

  Bob did so, with his eyes glittering.

  "I say," he exclaimed, "yere is a jolly go. I ha' got a stuff in mypocket, a kind of new sort of Indy-rubber wot rubs out writing. I say,Tom, let's put the whole of it on mother."

  "The whole of wot? Wot do yer mean?"

  "She says she has took thirty shillings. Let's rub out them words, andput as she took _all_ that wor in the stocking. Then the perlice won'tbe a'ter us, and we can go off to sea without no one a-finding of usout." Tom reflected over Bob's words of wisdom, and finally decidedthat his plan was worth adopting. While Jill still slept, the wicked,clever little fingers erased a portion of Poll's letter, and added thewords instead, "I 'as took all the money you has hoarded away in the oldstocking. I know you won't grudge it."

  CHAPTER EIGHT.

  Jill awoke presently, rubbed her eyes and sat up in bed. A sensation ofgladness was all over her, but she could not at first understand what itmeant. Her sleep had been so strong and dreamless that the remembranceof her engagement to Nat Carter did not in the first moment of wakingreturn to her.

  Then she remembered it. She gave a leap of pure joy and sprang lightlyout of bed. Having dressed herself neatly she stood for a moment by thewindow of her little room. Thankfulness was filling her whole nature.She felt so young, so joyous, that it was a delight to her even to bealive. She looked up into the cloudless summer sky and said aloud:

  "I don't know nothink 'bout the ways o' good folks, but they say thatthey b'lieve in Someone up there. They call Him God. Ef there is a GodI thank Him with my whole heart this morning. God up in the sky, efyou're there, do you hear me? Jill thanks yer with her whole heartto-day."

  A faint dimness came over the girl's bright eyes; she put up her hand towipe it away, and then went into the kitchen.

  Poll, of course, had gone to buy some flowers in the early market. Shemight be back at any moment.

  Jill bustled about to prepare breakfast. She did not go near thedresser, which stood in one corner of the little room and was never usedto hold cups and saucers or any implements of cookery. Jill's mind wasso preoccupied that she did not even observe the boys' absence.

  At last, however, the breakfast was ready. The coarse cups and saucerswere placed on the little table, the coffee stood on the hob of thebright little stove. The bread and a plate of dripping were placed alsoon the table.

  It was almost time for Poll to have returned. Jill expected each momentto hear her footstep in the passage. She sat down to wait for her, andat last remembering her brothers, turned to the press bedstead to tellthem to get up. The bedstead was empty. The bed was tossed andtumbled; no boys were to be seen there. Jill felt a passing wonder attheir having gone away, without breakfast, but they were always erraticin their movements, and her mind was too preoccupied with other thoughtsfor her to trouble herself long about them.

  After waiting a moment or so longer she ate her own breakfast, for shereflected that if for any reason her mother was detained in the marketshe would have to go out to buy flowers to replenish her basket herself.

  Having eaten, she went into her bedroom to put on her apron and turban,and now neatly dressed she came back into the kitchen, and taking up herflower-basket, was preparing to leave the room, when she suddenlyremembered that her pockets were destitute of money. She had reallyearned nothing the day before; she must therefore draw upon her littlesavings to replenish her basket this morning.

  The thought gave her a faint passing annoyance, for she did not like todeduct even a penny from the money which would be so useful to Nat andherself when they started housekeeping.

  There was no help for it, however, and she put her hand inside her dressto feel for the blue ribbon which held the precious little key of thebureau. The ribbon came out easily enough, but Jill started and feltherself turning pale when she saw that there was no key attached to it.Her eyes grew big with a sudden fear.

  What had become of the key? The ribbon looked as if it had been cut.Who could possibly have done this? No one. The ribbon must have gotthin and worn without Jill knowing it. The key must have dropped off.Where had she lost it? How very unpleasant if she was forced to burstopen the drawer of the bureau!

  Then she remembered that she had the key last night when she opened thedrawer to put the five sovereigns Nat had given her to take care of forhis pal into the old stocking. She certainly had the key then--it musttherefore be somewhere in the house.

  She went back into her bedroom and searched on the floor and in the bed;she could not find it and returned to the kitchen with a puzzled,anxious expression on her face.

  Then she gave a cry of delight and made a leap forward--the key was inthe lock of the drawer. How careless of her to have left it there! andyet she was glad now, for no harm could possibly have happened, as noone but herself and her mother knew that she kept money in the drawer.

  She went on her knees, pulled it open, and taking up the old stocking,unrolled it. Her own savings, amounting to nearly five pounds, werekept in a tiny gingham bag--the money Nat had given her was in a neatpaper roll. The bag was there flat and empty--the roll had alsodisappeared.

  Jill felt herself turning queer, sick and faint; she could not possiblybelieve that the money was gone; she felt certain at first that in someway these carefully hoarded savings must have slipped out of the bag,that the roll of paper must be hiding in another part of the drawer.

  It was a game of "Hide and Seek"--a cruel game between this money and agirl's troubled, anxious heart. She searched the drawer from end toend; it contained some neatly-made aprons, some stockings, and a fewother garments. The contents were quickly searched through, Jill roseto her feet--she was white and tottering, but she had not as yet reachedthe stage of believing that the money was gone.

  She still thought that it was playing that hideous game of "Hide andSeek." She placed her hand against her heart and leant against thebureau. There was nothing for her but to go on seeking for the treasureso securely hidden; but where now should she look?

  She stood still, trying her best to think. Suddenly her eyes rested onthe open sheet of thin poor lett
er-paper which contained her mother'sbadly written words.

  Jill started violently at the sight. She bent forward and tried to readthe hand-writing. Her sight was excellent, but just for a moment shecould not see the words in the letter; then she read them:

  "_Dear Jill,--This is to say as I'll come back again when I'm cured_."

  "What did that mean,"--Jill rubbed her eyes until they smarted--"Motherwill come back again when she's cured"? She read the next sentence;"_I'll ha' no pain when I come back, my gel, so you make yerself'appy_."

  "Oh, poor