CHAPTER V
THE SHOP IN THE VILLAGE
Before many days had passed I felt quite settled down. The weather wasmost lovely for some time just then, and this I think always helps tomake one feel more at home in a strange place. That first day, and fortwo or three following, we could not go long walks, as I had really somuch to see to indoors. Miss Bess had to make up her mind to wait aspatiently as she could, till other things were attended to, for thedoing up of her room, and, what I was more sorry for, poor Miss Lallyhad also to wait about beginning the knitting she had so set her hearton.
I think it was the fourth day after our arrival that I began at last tofeel pretty clear. All the nursery drawers and cupboards tidied up andneatly arranged; the children's clothes looked over and planned aboutfor the rest of the summer. My lady went over them with me, and I couldsee that it was a comfort to her to feel assured that I understood theneed for economy, and prided myself, thanks to my good old mother, onneat patches and darns quite as much as on skill on making new things.My poor lady--it went to my heart to see how often she would have likedto get fresh and pretty frocks and hats for the young ladies, for shehad good taste and great love of order. But after all there is often agood deal of pleasure in contriving and making the best of what one has.
'You must take nurse a good walk to-day, children,' said my lady as sheleft the room. 'I shall be busy with your papa, but you might get as faras the sea, I think, if you took old Jacob and the little cart for Babyif she gets tired, and for Francis if his leg hurts him. How has itbeen, by the by, for the last day or two, Francis?'
Her tone was rather cold, but still I could see a little flush ofpleasure come over the boy's face.
'Oh! much better, thank you, auntie,' he said eagerly. 'It's only justafter the day in the railway that it seems to hurt more.'
'Then try to be bright and cheerful,' she said. 'Remember you are notthe only one in the world that has troubles to bear.'
The boy didn't answer, but I could see his thin little face grow paleagain, and I just wished that my lady had stopped at her first kindlyinquiry. A deal of mischief is done, it seems to me, by people notknowing when it is best to stop.
Jacob, the donkey, was old and no mistake. Larkins's 'Peter' was youngcompared to him, and the cart was nothing but a cart such as lightluggage might be carried in. It had no seats, but we took a couple offootstools with us, which served the purpose, and many a pleasant ramblewe had with the shabby little old cart and poor Jacob.
'Which way shall we go?' said Miss Bess, as we started down the drive.'You know, nurse, there's ever so many ways to the sea here. It's alldivided into separate little bays. You can't get from one to the otherexcept at low tide, and with a lot of scrambling over the rocks, so wegenerally fix before we start which bay we'll go to.'
'Oh! do let's go to Polwithan Bay!' said Miss Lally.
'It's not nearly so pretty as Trewan,' said Miss Bess, 'and there arethe smugglers' caves at Trewan. We often call it the Smugglers' Baybecause of that. We've got names of our own for the bays as well as theproper ones.'
'There's one we call Picnic Bay,' said Master Francis, 'because thereare such beautiful big flat stones for picnic tables. But I think theSmugglers' Bay is the most curious of all. I'm sure nurse would like tosee it. Why do you want to go to Polwithan, Lally? It is rather a stupidlittle bay.'
'Can we go to the Smugglers' Bay by the village?' asked Miss Lally, andthen I understood her, though I did not know that tightly clutched inher hot little hand were the shilling and the three or four pennies shehad taken out of her money box on the chance of buying the wool for herstockings.
'It would be ever such a round,' said Miss Bess; but then she addedpolitely--she was very particular about politeness, when she wasn't putout--'but of course if nurse wants to see the village that wouldn'tmatter. We've plenty of time. Would you like to see it, nurse?'
A glance at Miss Lally's anxious little face decided me.
'Well, I won't say but what it would interest me to see the village,' Ireplied. 'Of course it's just as well and might be handy for me to knowmy way about, so as to be able to find the post-office or fetch anylittle thing from the shop if it were wanted.'
This was quite true, though I won't deny but that another reason wasstrongest and Miss Lally knew it, for she crept up to me and slid herlittle hand into mine gratefully.
'Very well, then,' said Miss Bess, 'we'll go round by the village. Butremember if you're tired, Lally, you mustn't grumble, for it was youthat first spoke of going that way.'
'There's the cart if Miss Lally's tired,' I said. 'Three could easilyget into it, and Jacob can't be knocked up if only Miss Baby goes in itall the way there.'
'Nurse,' said Miss Lally suddenly--I don't think she had heard what wewere saying--'there's two shops in the village.'
'Are there, my dear,' I said; 'and is one the post-office? And what dothey sell?'
'Yes, one is the post-office, but they sell other things 'aside stamps,'Miss Lally replied. 'They are both _everything_ shops.'
'But the _not_ the post-office one is much the nicest,' said MasterFrancis. 'It's kept by old Prideaux--he's an old sailor and----' Herethe boy looked round, but there was no one in sight. Still he loweredhis voice. 'People do say that after he left off being a proper sailorhe was a smuggler. It runs in the family, Mrs. Brent says,' he went onin the old-fashioned way I noticed in all the children. 'His father wasa regular smuggler. Brent says she's seen some queer transactions whenshe was a girl in the kitchen behind the shop.'
'I thought Mrs. Brent was a stranger in these parts by her birth andupbringing,' I said.
'So she is,' said Master Francis, 'but she came here on a visit when shewas a girl to her uncle at the High Meadows Farm, and that's how shecame first to Treluan. Grandfather was alive then, and papa and UncleHulbert were boys. Even then Prideaux was an old man. Uncle Hulbert sayshe knows lots of queer stories--he does tell them sometimes, but not asif they had happened here, and you have to pretend to think he and hisfather had nothing to do with them themselves.'
'It was he that told us first about the smugglers' caves, wasn't it?'said Miss Bess. 'Fancy, nurse, some treasures were found in one of thecaves, not so very long ago, hid away in a dark corner far in. Therewas lace and some beautiful fine silk stockings and some bottles ofbrandy----'
'And a lot of cigars and tobacco, but they had gone all bad, and some ofthe brandy hadn't any taste in it, though some was quite good. Butgrandpapa was a dreadfully honest man; he would send all the things upto London, just as they were found, for he said they belonged to theQueen.'
'I wonder if the Queen wored the silk stockings her own self?' said MissLally.
'If _we_ found some treasures,' said Miss Bess, 'do you think we'd haveto send them to the Queen too? It would be very greedy of her to keepthem, when she has such lots and lots of everything.'
'That's just because she's queen; she can't help it. It's part of beinga queen, and I daresay she gives away lots too. Besides, you wouldn'tcare for brandy or cigars, Bess?' said Master Francis.
'We could sell them,' answered Miss Bess, 'if they were good.'
'P'raps the Queen would send us a nice present back,' said Miss Lally.'Fancy, if she sent us a whole pound, what beautiful things we couldbuy.'
'It would be great fun to find treasures, whatever they were,' said MissBess. 'If we see old Prideaux to-day, I'll ask him if he thinkspossibly there's still some in the caves. Only it wouldn't do to go intohis shop on purpose to ask him--he'd think it funny.'
'And you'll have to be very careful how you ask him,' said MasterFrancis. 'Besides, I'm quite sure if there were any to be found, he'dhave found them before this.'
'Does he sell wool in his shop, do you think, Miss Bess?' I inquired,and I felt Miss Lally's hand squeeze mine. 'Wool, or worsted forknitting stockings, I mean. I want to get some, and that would be areason for speaking to him.'
'I daresay he does; at least his daughter's always knitti
ng, and shemust get wool somewhere. Anyway we can ask,' answered Miss Bess, quitepleased with the idea.
'Now, nurse,' said Master Francis suddenly, 'keep your eyes open. Whenwe turn into the field at the end of this little lane--we've come by ashort-cut to the village, for the cart can go through the field quitewell--you'll have your first good view of the sea. We can see it fromsome of the windows at Treluan and from the end of the terrace, butnothing like as well.'
I was glad he had prepared me, for we had been interested in ourtalking, and I hadn't paid much attention to the way we were going. NowI did keep my eyes open, and I was well rewarded. The field was asloping one--sloping upwards, I mean, as we entered it--and till we gotto the top of the rising ground we saw nothing but the clear sky abovethe grass, but then there burst upon the view a wonderful surprise. Thecoast-line lay before us for a considerable distance at each side. Justbelow us were the rocky bays or creeks the children had told me of, thesand gleaming yellow and white in the sunshine, for the tide was halfway out, though near enough still for us to see the glisten of the foamand the edge of the little waves, as they rippled in sleepily. Andfarther out the deep purple-blue of the ocean, softening into a mistygray, there, where the sky and the water met or melted into each other.A little to the right rose the smoke of several houses--lazily, for itwas a very still day. These houses lay nestled in together, on the wayto the shore, and seemed scarcely enough to be called a village; but aswe left the field again to rejoin the road, I saw that these few houseswere only the centre of it, so to speak, as others straggled alongthe road in both directions for some way, the church being one of thebuildings the nearest to Treluan house.
Then there burst upon the view a wonderful surprise.]
'It is a beautiful view,' said I, after a moment's silence, as we allstood still at the top of the slope, the children glancing at me, as ifto see what I thought of it. 'I've never seen anything approaching to itbefore, and yet it's a bare sort of country--many wouldn't believe itcould be so beautiful with so few trees, but I suppose the sea makes upfor a good deal.'
'And it's such a lovely day,' said Master Francis. 'I should say the sunmakes up for a good deal. We've lots of days here when it's so gray anddull that the sea and the sky seem all muddled up together. I'm not sovery fond of the sea myself. People say it's so beautiful in a storm,and I suppose it is, but I don't care for that kind of beauty, there'ssomething so furious and wild about it. I don't think raging should becounted beautiful. Shouldn't we only call good things beautiful?'
He looked up with a puzzle in his eyes. Master Francis always hadthoughts beyond his age and far beyond me to answer.
'I can't say, I'm sure,' I replied. 'It would take very clever peopleindeed to explain things like that, though there's verses in the Biblethat do seem to bear upon it, especially in the Psalms.'
'I know there are, but when it tells of Heaven, it says "there shall beno more sea,"' said Master Francis very gravely. 'And I think I likethat best.'
'Dear Francie,' said Miss Lally, taking his hand, as she always did whenshe saw him looking extra grave, though of course she could notunderstand what he had been saying.
We were out of the field by this time, and Miss Bess caught hold ofJacob's reins, for up till now the old fellow had been droning along athis own pace.
'Come along, Jacob, waken up,' she said, as she tugged at him, 'or we'llnot get to Polwithan Bay to-day, specially if we're going to gossip withold Prideaux on the way.'
We passed the church in a moment, and close beside it the Vicarage.
'That's where Miss Kirstin lives,' said Miss Bess. 'Come along quick, Idon't want her to see us.'
'Don't you like her, my dear?' I said, a little surprised.
'Oh yes! we like her very well, but she makes us think of lessons, andwhile it is holidays we may as well forget them,' and by the way inwhich Master Francis and Miss Lally joined her in hurrying past Mr.Kirstin's house, I could see they were of the same mind.
Miss Kirstin, when I came to know her, I found to be a good well-meaningyoung lady, but she hadn't the knack of making lessons very interesting.It wasn't perhaps altogether her fault; in those days books for youngpeople, both for lessons and amusement, were very different from whatthey are now. School-books were certainly very dry and dull, and therewas a sort of feeling that making lessons pleasant or taking to childrenwould have been weak indulgence.
The church was a beautiful old building. I am not learned enough todescribe it, and perhaps after all it was more beautiful from age thanfrom anything remarkable in itself. I came to love it well; it was areal grief to me and to others besides me when it had to be partlypulled down a few years ago, and all the wonderful growth of ivy spoilt.Though I won't say but what our new vicar--the third from Mr. Kirstinour present one is--is well fitted for his work, both with rich andpoor, and one whom it is impossible not to respect as well as love,though Mr. Kirstin was a worthy and kind old man in his way.
A bit farther along the road we passed the post-office, which thechildren pointed out to me. The mistress came to the door when she sawus, and curtsied to the little ladies, with a smile and a word of'Welcome home again, Miss Penrose!' She took a good look at me out ofthe corner of her eye, I could see. For having lived so much in smallcountry places, I knew how even a fresh servant at the big house willset all the village talking.
Miss Lally glanced in at the shop window as we passed. There was indeed,as she had said, a mixture of 'everything,' from tin pails andmother-of-pearl buttons to red herrings and tallow-candles.
'Nurse,' she whispered, '_in case_ we can't get the wool at Prideaux',we might come back here, but I'm afraid Bess wouldn't like to turn back.Oh! I do hope'--with one of her little sighs--'they'll have it at theother shop.'
And so they had, though when we got there a little difficulty arose. Thetwo elder children both wanted to come in, having got their heads fullof asking the old man about the smugglers' caves, and thinking it wasfor myself I wanted the wool. Never a word said poor Miss Lally, whenher sister told her to stay outside with Miss Baby and the cart; but Iwas getting to know the look of her little face too well by this timenot to understand the puckers about her eyes, and the droop at thecorners of her mouth.
'We may as well all go in,' I said, lifting Miss Baby out of the cart.'There's no one else in the shop, and I want Miss Lally's opinion aboutthe wool.'
'_Lally's!_' said Miss Bess rather scornfully; 'she doesn't knowanything about wool, or knitting stockings, nurse.'
'Ah! well, but perhaps she's going to know something about it,' I said.'It's a little secret we've got, Miss Bess; you shall hear about it allin good time.'
'Oh, well, if it's a secret,' said Miss Bess good-naturedly--she was anice-minded child, as they all were--'Franz and I will keep out of theway while you and Lally get your wool. We'll talk to old Prideaux.'
He was in the shop, as well as his daughter, who was knitting away asthe children had described her, and the old wife came hurrying out ofthe kitchen, when she heard it was the little gentry from Treluan thatwere in the shop. They did make a fuss over the children, to be sure; itwasn't easy for Miss Lally and me to get our bit of business done. ButSally Prideaux found us just what we wanted--the same wool that she wasknitting stockings of herself, only she had not much of it in stock, andmight be some little time before she could get more. But I told MissLally there'd be enough for a short pair of socks for her cousin--boysdidn't wear knickerbockers and long stockings in those days--adding thatit was best not to undertake too big a piece of work for the first.
The wool cost one-and-sixpence. It was touching to see the littlecreature counting over the money she had been holding tightly in herhand all the way, and her look of distress when she found it only cameup to one and fourpence halfpenny.
'Don't you trouble, my dear,' I said, 'I have some coppers in mypocket.'
She thanked me as if I had given her three pounds instead of threehalfpence, saying in a whisper--'I'll pay you back, nursi
e, when I getmy twopence next Saturday;' and then as happy as a little queen sheclambered down off the high stool, her precious parcel in her hand.
'Won't Francie be pleased?' she said. 'They must be ready for hisbirthday, nurse. And won't mamma be pleased when she finds I can knitstockings, and that she won't have to buy any more?'