CHAPTER XIV
The Squatter's Invitation
After all there was no dogcart for Judy, no mountain train, noignominious return to the midst of her schoolfellows, no vista ofweary months unmarked by holidays.
But instead, a warm, soft bed, and delicate food, and loving voicesand ceaseless attention. For the violent exertion, the scanty food,and the two nights in the open air had brought the girl to indeed aperilous pass. One lung was badly inflamed, the doctor said; it wasa mystery to him, he kept telling them, how she had kept up so long;an ordinary girl would have given in and taken to her bed long ago.But then he was not acquainted with the indomitable spirit and pluckthat were Judy's characteristics.
"Didn't you have any pain?" he asked, quite taken aback to find suchspirits and so serious a condition together.
"H'm, in my side sometimes," she answered carelessly. "How longwill it be before I can get up, Doctor?" She used to ask the latterquestion of him every morning, though, if the truth were known, shefelt secretly more than a little diffident at the idea of standing upagain.
There was a languor and weariness in her limbs that made her doubtfulif she could run about very much, and slower modes of progressing shedespised. Besides this, there was a gnawing pain, under her arms,and the cough was agony while it lasted.
Still, she was not ill enough to lose interest in all that was goingon, and used to insist upon the others telling her everything thathappened outside--who made the biggest score at cricket, what flowerswere out in her own straggling patch of garden, how many eggs thefowls laid a day, how the guinea-pigs and canaries were progressing,and what was the very latest thing in clothes or boots the newretriever puppy had devoured.
And Bunty used to bring in the white mice and the blind Frenchguinea-pig, and let them run loose over the counterpane, and Pip didmost of his carpentering on a little table near, so she could seeeach fresh stage and suggest improvements as he went along.
Meg, who had almost severed her connection with Aldith, devotedherself to her sister, and waited on her hand and foot; she made herall kinds of little presents--a boot-bag, with compartments; abrush-and-comb bag, with the monogram "J.W.," worked in pink silk;a little work-basket, with needle-book, pin-cushion, and all complete.Judy feared she should be compelled to betake herself to tidy habitson her recovery.
Her pleasure in the little gifts started a spirit of competitionamong the others.
For one whole day Pip was invisible, but in the evening he turned up,and walked to the bedside with a proud face. He had constructed alittle set of drawers, three of which actually opened under skilfulcoaxing.
"It's not for doll-clothes," he said, after she had exhausted all theexpressions of gratitude in common use, "because I know you hatethem, but you can keep all your little things in them, you see--hairstrings, and thimbles, and things."
There was a sound of dragging outside the door and presently Buntycame in backward, lugging a great, strange thing.
It seemed to be five or six heavy pieces of board nailed togetherhaphazard.
"It's a chair," he explained, wiping the perspiration from hisforehead. "Oh! I'm going to put some canvas across it, of course,so you won't fall through; but I thought I'd show it you first."
Judy's eyes smiled, but she thanked him warmly. "I wasn't goin'to make any stupid thing, like Pip did," the small youth continued,looking deprecatingly at the little drawers. "This is reallyuseful, you see; when you get up you can sit on it, Judy, by thefire and read or sew or something. You like it better 'n Pip's, don'tyou?"
Judy temporized skilfully, and averted offence to either by askingthem to put the presents with all the others near the head of the bed.
"What a lot of things you'll have to take back to school, Ju," Nellsaid, as she added her contribution in the shape of a pair of crochetcuffs and a doll's wool jacket.
But Judy only flashed her a reproachful glance, and turned her faceto the wall for the rest of the evening.
That was what had been hanging over her so heavily all this longfortnight in bed--the thought of school in the future.
"What's going to happen to me when I get better, Esther?" sheasked next morning, in a depressed way, when her stepmother came tosee her. "Is he saving up a lot of beatings for me? And shall Ihave to go back the first week?"
Esther reassured her.
"You won't go back this quarter at all, very likely not next either,Judy dear. He says you shall go away with some of the others fora change till you get strong; and, between you and me, I thinkits very unlikely you, will go back ever again."
With this dread removed, Judy mended more rapidly, surprising eventhe doctor with her powers of recuperation.
In three weeks she was about the house again, thin and great-eyed,but full of nonsense and even mischief once more. The doctor's visitsceased; he said she had made a good recovery so far, but shouldhave change of surroundings, and be taken a long way from sea air.
"Let her run wild for some months, Woolcot," he said at his lastvisit; "it will take time to quite shake off all this and get herstrength and flesh back again."
"Certainly, certainly; she shall go at once," the Captain said.
He could not forget the shock he had received in the old loft fiveor six weeks ago, and would have agreed if he had been bidden to takeher for a sojourn in the Sahara.
The doctor had told him the mischief done to her lungs was serious.
"I won't say she will ultimately die of consumption," he had said,"but there is always a danger of that vile disease in these nastycases. And little Miss Judy is such a wild, unquiet subject;she seems to be always in a perfect fever of living, and to possessa capacity for joy and unhappiness quite unknown to slower natures.Take care of her, Woolcot, and she'll make a fine woman some day--ay,a grand woman."
The Captain smoked four big cigars in the solitude of his studybefore he could decide how he could best "take care of her."
At first he thought he would send her with Meg and the governess tothe mountains for a time, but then there was the difficulty aboutlessons for the other three. He might send them to school, orengage a governess certainly, but then again there was expense to beconsidered.
It was out of the question for the girls to go alone, for Meg hadshown herself nothing but a silly little goose, in spite of hersixteen years; and Judy needed attention. Then he rememberedEsther, too, was, looking unwell; the nursing and the Generaltogether had been too much for her, and she looked quite a shadow ofher bright self. He knew he really ought to send her, too, and thechild, of course.
And again the expense.
He remembered the Christmas holidays were not very far away; whatwould become of the house with Pip and Bunty and the two youngestgirls running wild, and no one in authority? He sighed heavily, andknocked the ash from his fourth cigar upon the carpet.
Then the postman came along the drive and past the window. He pokedup with a broad smile, and touched his helmet in a pleased kind ofway. If almost seemed as if he knew that in one of the letters heheld the solution of the problem that was making the Captain's browall criss-crossed with frowning lines.
A fifth cigar was being extracted from the case, a wrinkle wasdeepening just over the left eyebrow, a twinge of something very likegout was calling forth a word or two of "foreign language," whenEsther came in with a smile on her lips and an open letter in herhands.
"From Mother," she said. "Yarrahappini's a wilderness, it seems, andshe wants me to go up, and take the General with me, for a few weeks."
"Ah!" he said.
It would certainly solve one of the difficulties. The place was veryfar away certainly, but then it was Esther's old home, and she hadnot seen it since her marriage. She would grow strong again therevery quickly.
"Oh, and Judy, too."
"Ah-h-h!" he said.
Two of the lines smoothed themselves carefully from his brow.
"And Meg, because I mentioned she was looking pale."
The Captain placed the cigar back in the case. He forgot there wassuch a thing as gout.
"The invitation could not have been more opportune," he said. "Acceptby all means; nothing could have been better; and it is an exceedinglyhealthy climate. The other children can--"
"Oh, Father expressly stipulates for Pip as well, because he is ascamp."
"Upon my word, Esther, your parents have a large enough fund ofphilanthropy. Anyone else included in the invitation?"
"Only Nell and Bunty and Baby. Oh, and Mother says if you canrun up at any time for a few days shooting you know without hertelling you how pleased she will be to see you."
"The hospitality of squatters is world-famed, but this breaks allprevious records, Esther." The Captain got up and stretched himselfwith the air of a man released from a nightmare. "Accept by allmeans--every one of you. On their own heads be the results; butI'm afraid Yarrahappini will be a sadder and wiser place beforethe month is over."
But just how much sadder or how much wiser he never dreamed.