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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/39167-8.txt b/39167-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..18f232e --- /dev/null +++ b/39167-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6222 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Fairies Afield, by Mary Louisa Molesworth + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Fairies Afield + +Author: Mary Louisa Molesworth + +Illustrator: Gertrude Demain Hammond + +Release Date: March 16, 2012 [EBook #39167] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRIES AFIELD *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + + + + + FAIRIES AFIELD + + BY MRS. MOLESWORTH + + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + GERTRUDE DEMAIN HAMMOND + + MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED + ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON + + 1911 + + [Illustration] + + MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED + + LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA + MELBOURNE + + THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + + NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO + ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO + + THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. + + TORONTO + + * * * * * + + I DEDICATE THIS BOOK + + TO ONE WHO LOVES FAIRY STORIES + + THE REVEREND JOHN CYRIL HOWELL + + 155 Sloane Street, S.W. + _May 8, 1911._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Pretty Ysenda.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + "ASK THE ROBIN" 1 + + A MAGIC TABLE 60 + + THE WEATHER MAIDEN 121 + + THE ENCHANTED TRUNKS 176 + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + TO FACE PAGE + + PRETTY YSENDA (P. 66) _Frontispiece_ + + "IT MAKES ME THINK OF ALL SORTS OF LOVELY + SUMMER THINGS" 8 + + WITH A WONDERFUL NOTE OF EXCEEDING JOY, HE + SPREAD HIS WINGS AND FLEW ROUND THE + BOWER, RETURNING AGAIN TO PERCH ON THE + CHILD'S STILL OUTSTRETCHED HAND, AS IF IN + GRATITUDE 52 + + "YOUR MOTIVE WAS PURE KINDNESS--FREE FROM + ALL SELFISHNESS, THEREFORE YOU SUCCEEDED" 119 + + "SO YOU HAVE COME AT LAST, LITTLE MAIDEN" 136 + + SHE CAUGHT SIGHT OF A TINY FIGURE PEERING AT + HER FROM BEHIND THE RUBBISH 150 + + STOPPED AND KISSED IT GENTLY AND RESPECTFULLY 214 + + LO AND BEHOLD--COUSIN FELICITY HAD VANISHED 239 + + + + +"Ask the Robin" + + +Once upon a time--a fairly long ago time--there lived in a neat little +cottage two young girls who were sisters. If you had gone to see them on +a bright warm summer's day, I daresay you would have envied them and +their life and their lot. For they were pretty and healthy and they +loved each other dearly, and the cottage was charming to look at, in its +dress of clustering roses and honeysuckle and traveller's joy, and other +sweet and beautiful climbing, flowering plants. Furthermore, it stood in +a little garden filled with treasures of different kinds, pansies, of +which there was a great variety, and lilies and mignonette and all the +flowers one loves to see in an old-fashioned garden of the kind. And the +sisters kept it in perfect order, the beds were always raked, there was +never a weed to be seen, the tiny plots of grass were like velvet. + +In spring too it was very pretty, when first the snowdrops and then the +crocuses and primroses and violets woke up after their long winter +sleep, and in autumn also there was a show of beauties, dahlias and +chrysanthemums and kitchen pokers and other pretty things of the season. + +And indeed, even in winter, the place had its charm, of evergreen shrubs +and bright berries and--till the snow came and made an end of all but +the hardiest plants, the still remaining lovely variegated leaves of +late autumn. + +No care or skill was wanting to keep the whole as pretty as could +possibly be, for the sisters' father was a gardener, and from him they +had learnt both love of growing things and knowledge of all needed for +their welfare. And not so very long before this story begins I doubt if +Aria or Linde--these were the girls' names--cared what time of year it +was, for all were happy days to them. Glowing summer, sparkling spring, +rich mellow autumn, even winter, often cold and grey--all brought joy +and gladness, till one sad night terrible sorrow fell upon them. Their +father was drowned on his way home from market, in crossing a swollen +stream, whose rushing waters broke down the little wooden bridge, over +which in the darkness he was driving his small pony-cart. And as the +poor girls' mother had died years before, they were now truly orphans. + +The neighbours--such as there were, for there were but few--were sorry +for them and kind, as far as they could be. But it was a lonely part of +the world. The gardens where the drowned man had been one of the +labourers belonged to a rich landowner who seldom visited his property, +and all that the place produced was sent to the nearest town and there +sold. Thus there was no one of importance to take much interest in Aria +or Linde, except the steward of the castle, who advised them to look for +situations as servants, and when they wept and said they could not bear +to be parted, he got angry and called them fools and left them alone. + +For a short time they got on pretty well. They were still very +young--Aria barely seventeen and Linde only fourteen, but they were +active and capable and ready-witted, and their father had managed to +save a little, though, alas, but a little. + +Aria made it last as long as she possibly could. It was summer, and they +needed but small fires and cheaper clothing and even--so it seemed to +them--simpler food than in the cold weather. Then they were able to +earn a fair amount by odd work in the hay-fields and so on, when work +was at its best. And once a week, at least, they trudged all the way to +market laden with their loveliest flowers, tied up with great taste and +care, and sometimes, as the season advanced, baskets full of the wild +fruit that they gathered in the forest hard by. Have I told you that +their home was on the edge of a forest? No? Ah well, never mind, we +shall hear more of the forest by and by. + +But summer, and even autumn, only stay for their appointed time. As they +stood at the cottage door one morning late in October, Aria's face grew +very grave. It was a chilly day, the sky overcast and steely, a sort of +sighing in the air as if the spirits of the summer and the sunshine were +bidding the world a reluctant farewell, frightened away by the +fast-approaching winter. + +It was Friday, the day before the market, to which so far they had never +missed wending their way, even if the weather were wet or stormy, as it +must be now and then at all times of the year. + +"How dull and cold it is!" said Linde with a little shiver. "Aria, I +wish we didn't need to go all the way to market to-morrow, if it's +going to be like this." + +Aria looked at her without speaking for a moment. Then she said very +seriously: + +"You are thoughtless, Linde, but then of course you are much younger +than I, poor child. You say you wish we need not go to the town +to-morrow? My dear, I am only afraid that your wish will come true! I +don't see what we have to take to market--the fruit is all over and we +have but very few flowers to tie up." + +Linde's face fell. Then she brightened up a little. + +"There are lots of lovely leaves," she said. + +Aria glanced over the garden. + +"Yes," she replied. "I think we may manage two or three good bunches for +to-morrow, and possibly for another Saturday too. And--" she went on, +"it has struck me that some of the townsfolk, who are always glad to buy +our flowers, might care for our dried rose-leaves--we have quite a large +jar-full, you know." + +Linde clapped her hands. + +"What a good idea!" she cried. "Oh I'm sure the leaves would sell. So +few of the ladies in the town have proper gardens of their own." + +"Or time to look after them, luckily for us," said Aria, "otherwise our +flowers would not be in such request." + +For though little Linde spoke of their customers as "ladies," the good +housekeepers of the small but busy town were mostly of the working-class +themselves--that is to say, wives or mothers of the men employed in the +china manufactories on which the place depended, and in those days, +long, long before railway lines, there were no such things as flower +shops. The only chance of getting fresh garden produce was the market. + +"Luckily for us too," Aria went on, "there are no great gardens near, +except at the castle, and father often said it was hard work to keep the +countess supplied with flowers enough, even though she sent express +messengers for them twice a week." + +"All the same," said Linde rather dolefully, "I wish father hadn't been +a gardener. Flowers are so delicate and wither so soon. If we'd had a +little dairy now--or even poultry, and could have sold butter and eggs, +and chickens. They'd have gone on all the year round." + +"Linde, dear, father never had money enough to buy cows or even +poultry," said Aria with a sigh. "And it would have been difficult to +get much to the market, so far off as it is, without a cart and pony, +and how could we have bought these?" + +For the pony which had perished with the poor man was the property of +his master, though he was sometimes allowed to carry shrubs and bulbs of +his own to market, with the castle vegetables, when he went to sell them +at the town. + +Linde did not answer. Her spirits were very apt to go up and down all in +a minute, so Aria spoke again more cheerfully. + +"Yes," she said, "I'm glad I thought of the rose-leaves. They are really +most fragrant still. I lifted the lid yesterday for a moment. The powder +that father gave me to throw among them was wonderfully good. I wish we +had more of it." + +"Is it quite done?" asked Linde. + +"Very nearly. It was given to mother, you know, when she was a bride by +an old woman who was her godmother. She declared it had fairy power and +would never grow stale. And so it has proved. We may safely promise any +who buy the leaves that they will scent their linen even better than +lavender, and more lastingly. Come along, Linde, and let's see how we +can best take a good parcel of them with us to-morrow," and Linde's +interest revived again, as she followed her sister indoors. + +The dried leaves--what are often called "pot pourri," though the simple +sisters had never heard the name--were kept in a very large jar, of +old-fashioned stoneware. It had a lid, and would nowadays be highly +valued as rare and antique. But of this its owners knew nothing. They +only loved it for their parents' sake, as it too had been a wedding gift +from the godmother. And whence she had got it no one had ever known. She +was herself a rather mysterious person. Folks used to say--so Aria +remembered having heard when she was a little girl, helping her mother +to gather rose-leaves to fill the jar--that there was something of fairy +nature about her. + +"And however that may have been," said Aria, as she repeated this to +Linde, "certainly her gifts have proved lasting. The jar has been +knocked over several times, you know, and never broken, and the powder +is as fresh as a newly gathered rose." + +"Yes," Linde agreed, after a good long sniff at the jar's contents. +"It's delicious. It makes me think of all sorts of lovely summer +things." + +[Illustration: "It makes me think of all sorts of lovely summer things."] + +Then they consulted as to how they could best carry the precious +leaves to the market for sale. + +"We needn't take them _all_," pleaded Linde. "I do wish we needn't sell +any. It seems a shame." + +"Almost," her sister replied, "but it can't be helped. If only I had had +more of the powder," she repeated, "we might have collected and dried +quantities of rose-leaves." + +"Or if we knew how to make the powder," said Linde. + +But that knowledge was not to be had. + +Aria had reached down the jar, which stood on a high shelf in a corner, +and the fragrance seemed to fill the room. + +"Leave off sniffing it, Linde, dear," she said, for the child kept +bending over it, "and let us plan how to take the leaves to market. We +can't of course carry the jar, but it wouldn't do only to pack them in a +sheet of paper. Ah, I have it," and she ran up the tiny ladder-like +staircase which led to their little bedroom above, returning with a +good-sized old-fashioned box or canister of tin, with a firm lid. "The +very thing," she exclaimed joyously. + +"It will be dreadfully clumsy and heavy to carry," objected Linde. + +"Oh no, I can easily manage it, and a bunch or two of flowers as well, +without being overladen," said Aria. "And see here, Linde, I will take +this little cup," and she held up a small mug of lustre ware, "I fancy +it will hold about two ounces weight of the leaves. For that quantity +say we charge half a groat--and if we are lucky enough to sell twenty or +even twelve cups full, that will get us through next week beautifully." + +Then she filled the little cup and weighed its contents. They were just +over her idea. And Linde's spirits rose again as she helped her sister +to cleanse the canister from every speck of dust or mould and then to +fill it with the perfumed leaves. + +All that day the cottage seemed pervaded by the fragrance. Accidentally +a few of the leaves and some grains of the powder fell among Linde's +curly hair, and when she brushed it out at night she was amused at its +scent. It was not to be wondered at perhaps, that as her head lay on the +pillow she should have dreamt of the jar and its contents and the old +mystery associated with them. + +This was her dream. + +She thought that she and her sister were standing at their usual corner +of the market-place, their posies of flowers and large bunches of autumn +leaves carefully arranged before them on the rough wooden table, the tin +canister in the middle and a little heap of the leaves displayed in +front of it. It seemed very early, there were scarcely any people about. +Suddenly up came a small old woman, a stranger and what Linde would have +called "a foreigner," for her dress was either that of another country +or of a date already quite passed out of fashion. She glanced at the +flowers, and appeared to be passing on, when she caught sight of the +little heap of dried leaves, on which she stopped short and Linde felt a +pair of bright eyes fixed on her. Then the stranger smiled and nodded, +and, bending towards the child, murmured in her ear the mysterious +words: "Three times, and then ask the robin." + +"How--what do you mean?" exclaimed Linde in her dream, trying to catch +hold of the owner of the piercing eyes, as she turned away. But before +the little girl could touch her, she was gone, and in the start of +disappointment Linde awoke. + +"What a queer dream," she said to herself, as she lay thinking of it. "I +wish Aria were awake, I do so want to tell it her." + +But Aria was fast asleep, her face looking so peaceful in the moonlight +that Linde was too unselfish to wish to disturb her, for of late she +knew well that the elder girl's waking hours were full of anxiety. + +"I must wait till the morning," thought the child, and turning round she +herself was soon in a dreamless slumber. + +The next day Aria listened with great interest to Linde's story. + +"It is queer," she agreed. "It almost sounds like a message from +mother's uncanny godmother." + +"Don't call her 'uncanny,'" Linde objected. "It's rather a frightening +sort of word, and she mightn't like it. Supposing," she went on, +lowering her voice, "_supposing_ she really was a fairy, or partly one, +she may be back in fairyland for all we know, and some day we might see +her." + +But Aria shook her head. + +"No," she said, "she very likely had dealings with the fairies, but that +isn't the same as being one herself." + +"I'll keep a good look-out for her, nevertheless, at the market to-day," +Linde replied. + +And so she did. But no one at all resembling the quaint figure in her +dream was to be seen, and after a while Linde forgot about her, so busy +were the sisters that morning in selling their wares. + +The first of their usual customers, a kindly, well-to-do, housewifely +woman, who had known their father and always came to them for flowers, +was at once attracted by the delicious perfume of the dried leaves. + +"Dear, dear," she exclaimed, "it's not often that late autumn flowers +are so fragrant. Your posies are always fresh and sweet, but I've never +known their scent so beautiful," and she sniffed with satisfaction, +looking about to discover from which of the flowers it came. + +"It's not the flowers," explained Aria to the good dame. "It's something +new we have for sale to-day. I only hope that you and our other +customers may take a fancy to it," and she went on to tell of the +pleasant qualities of the dried rose-leaves--how their scent, if they +were laid among linen, was both fresher and more delicate to begin with, +and lasted much longer than that of the finest lavender. But she said +nothing of the sort of mystery connected with the powder; some instinct +prevented her doing so. Nor did she tell that but a little of it +remained, or that their stock of rose-leaves would soon be exhausted. + +"Who knows what may happen before that?" she reflected, and the words of +Linde's dream-visitor recurred to her, "Three times, and then ask the +robin." + +Dame Barbara was quite satisfied and greatly delighted. + +"Here," she said, fumbling for her substantial purse, "a groat for two +ounces of it, did you say? No, a half-groat only? My dear, you'll have +to raise your prices if the perfume is so excellent! Well to begin with, +give me the four ounces straight away, and here's a half-groat over and +above what it all comes to--dried leaves and fresh ones and flowers, all +together--just the tiny silver piece for luck, you know." + +Aria and Linde smiled and thanked her. And the thanks were repeated, +when, as she turned away, she called out, "I'll be the first to tell my +cronies of this. Dear, dear, I feel as if I were in a fairy garden +myself with the pleasure of the perfume. I had no idea that the robins' +forest had such treasures of roses. For you live in the forest, do you +not, or close by?" + +"Yes, just at its edge," they replied, "but," Linde went on eagerly, +"we never knew it was called after the robins. It is odd that we never +heard it." + +Dame Barbara nodded sagaciously. + +"'Tis a very old name. Scarce a one but myself knows of it, nowadays," +she said. "No wonder you children never heard it. There was an ancient +story--just a foolish tale--that the fairies haunted the forest, till +one day some cruel or stupid person killed a robin. Robins used to +abound there, and they are their special favourites, you know, and since +then never a fairy or a robin has been seen there. But I must hurry off +to finish my marketing." + +Aria and Linde looked at each other. + +"It must mean something," said Linde in a low and almost awe-struck +tone. "My dream, I mean, and the old woman saying, 'Ask the robin.'" + +"Yes," her sister agreed. "It is odd too that we never heard the old +name or the old story before. I wonder if father had? I have a sort of +remembrance of his once saying something about our being too near the +forest for robins to make their home with us, but I had a silly childish +idea that he only meant that all robins disliked forests." + +"I think I must have had the same notion," said Linde, "for we have both +of us now and then wished that robins would make their nests in our +garden, but we just thought they never would! We have hardly ever seen +one." + +"Very seldom," said Aria. "I have occasionally noticed a redbreast on +the hedge, seeming to look about him, but he was sure to fly away." + +But though they felt extremely interested in what they had heard and +very curious to find out if, as Linde said, her dream did "mean +something," just then they had no time to talk about it any more, for +Dame Barbara was as good as her word. Every one of their usual customers +for flowers seemed to have met the old woman and been told of the +wonderful dried leaves. And some strangers, too, new-comers or visitors +to the little town, stopped as they passed by, with exclamations of +"What a delicious fragrance! Can it be from these flowers?" and when it +was explained to them that the source of the perfume was the contents of +the tin canister, one and all immediately bought a cup-full, or two, +even in some cases three or four. Long before their usual hour for going +home, all the leaves were sold, and some would-be purchasers who came +too late were delighted to hear that next market-day there would be a +fresh supply of the coveted leaves. + +"Never has our purse been so well filled before," said Aria in great +content, as she tied up the little purchases of butter and eggs and +honey and other luxuries which she had scarcely hoped to be able to +afford. "Linde, it really has been a wonderful success. If only we had +jars and jars full of the leaves!" + +"Don't despair," said Linde. "Remember my dream. Who knows what may come +of it?" and very hopeful and happy, the sisters set off for their long +walk home. + +Nothing out of the common happened to them during the next few days. +Though they half laughed at themselves for doing so, they often kept +looking out in hopes of catching sight of a redbreast, but none was to +be seen, and though they strolled more than once farther than usual into +the forest, when their daily work was over, they there met with no +adventures. + +"I am afraid, Linde, dear," said Aria on the Friday evening, when they +had again filled the canister with the precious leaves to be ready for +market next day, "I am afraid that we must think no more about your +dream, or that it meant anything. We have still leaves enough for one +other day's sale after to-morrow, and we must just be thankful for the +help it has been, giving us time to consider what we must do to get +through the winter," and though she tried to speak cheerfully, the poor +girl could not keep back a little sigh, which Linde was quick to hear. + +"Aria, sweetheart, Aria," the child exclaimed in a piteous voice, "you +don't think, you can't mean that we may have to part? Oh I'd much, much +rather die, if we might but die together. Promise me, promise me that +you'll never leave me." + +"My darling," said Aria, bravely forcing back her tears, "Heaven knows, +it half kills me to think of such a possibility. So far, things have +gone better with us than we could have dared to hope; let us therefore +go on praying and trusting that we may keep together." + +Linde cheered up again. + +"Yes, yes, that is the best thing to do," she agreed. "And do you know, +Aria, though I get frightened sometimes, deeper down I have a feeling +that we shall get on well, after all. It is ever since my dream that I +seem to get this sort of comforting hope," she added, with a curious +light in her eyes. + +The elder sister, to tell the truth, had less faith in dreams and +presentiments than little Linde, but she was glad of anything to cheer +the child. So with a loving kiss they went to bed betimes, in +preparation for their long walk to market the next day, and soon fell +asleep. + +Aria woke first on Saturday morning. It was still very early, the dawn +barely breaking. But there was light enough to see Linde's face, all +rosy and smiling in her sleep. She quickly roused when she heard her +sister moving about the room. + +"Aria," she exclaimed, "Aria, darling, it's come again. The dream, I +mean." + +Aria turned and looked at her. At first the elder sister was inclined to +say that she was not very surprised. A dream that has made much +impression on one is apt to return, especially in this case, remembering +their conversation the previous evening. But the sight of Linde's happy +and excited face checked her. + +"I must not damp her hopefulness," she thought, "and after all--who +knows?"--"Was it the same as before?" she asked, "exactly the same old +woman and all?" + +"Yes," Linde replied, "just the same. We were in the market, and she +came by, and then stopped and seemed to be attracted by the rose-leaves' +scent. Then I felt her eyes on me and heard her voice--low but +clear--saying----," and here the little girl interrupted herself, "Oh +yes, there were just two words different, and that makes it seem more +real. She did not say 'three times,' but '_twice_ more and then ask the +robin.' I wonder," Linde continued, "I wonder if possibly we shall see +her herself. No--I don't think we shall. I feel that she can only come +in dreams." + +They were at their place in the market in good time as usual. Their +posies of late flowers and autumn foliage had, alas, diminished, but +their supply of the fragrant leaves was rather larger than the week +before, for, influenced perhaps by the "twice more" of Linde's dream +visitor, Aria had divided the contents of the jar into two equal +portions, each of which proved to be rather more than the first lot she +had carried off for sale. In fact the useful tin canister was this time +completely filled. + +And the demand for their new wares was even greater than the last time. +Dame Barbara and her friends had spread the fame of the wonderful +leaves. Aria could have sold what she had twice over, and more than one +of her customers assured her that if she could keep up the supply during +the winter, orders would be forthcoming from more distant parts of the +country. + +"I mean to make pretty bags and fill them with your leaves, for +Christmas presents to my friends," said one smiling young lady. "So +don't forget that I shall want ever so much of them a little later on," +and Aria thanked her and wisely refrained from saying that she feared +her stock was all but exhausted. + +"Don't be too sure of that," said Linde, when Aria sighed about it. "My +hopes have risen sky-high since the dream came again, though how we are +to 'ask the robin,' seeing that none of his kind ever come near us, or +how he could help us if we did come across him, is more than I can in +any way imagine! And after all, we have still enough leaves for next +market-day, which will be the _third_ time." + +"Yes," Aria agreed, "it is much the best to hope on and keep up our +spirits. And for the present we have no reason to despond. My old purse +is delightfully well filled to-day even though I could not make up my +mind to raise the price of the leaves as Dame Barbara urged me to do. I +felt somehow as if it would not bring me good luck." + +"I felt the same," said Linde. + +They spent a cheerful evening, and the following day, Sunday, passed +peacefully. When they returned from the ancient church in the +neighbouring village whither since their infancy they had always gone +with their parents, Linde asked Aria to let her go for a stroll in the +forest by herself, to which the elder sister, who was feeling a little +tired, agreed. + +"You are going to look for a robin, I know," she said with a smile, "and +possibly as the dreams have come to you and not to me, you may succeed +where I could not. But don't go too far, dear child. I should be anxious +if you were long away, for no doubt the forest _is_ rather uncanny, +somehow." + +"I won't go far," said Linde. "And I hardly hope to find out anything. +But I shall just look well about me. You see the real time has not yet +come. We are not to 'ask the robin' till after three market-days." + +When she returned home an hour or two later, she seemed thoughtful, +though not exactly depressed. + +"Well," asked her sister, "had you any adventures?" + +Linde shook her head, yet she smiled a little. + +"Only a very tiny thing happened to me," she said, "hardly worth +noticing. I strolled some way along the path that leads straight to the +heart of the forest--the main path, you know, Aria--and I was just +thinking of turning home, when, a short way down a much smaller path, +scarcely one at all, I caught sight of something bright lying on the +ground. At first I thought it was a scarlet berry or two, or some of the +red leaves one often sees, but when I stooped to pick it up, it was +this," and she held out a small feather. + +Aria took it--it was of a peculiar shade, almost more orange than red. + +"I know what you are thinking," said the elder sister,--"that it is a +robin's feather--from his red breast, and it certainly looks very like +it, but----" + +"Wait, Aria, till you hear the rest," interrupted Linde, and she opened +her other hand, in which lay two more of the fairy-like feathers, +exactly similar to the first. "The wonderful part of it was that though +they are _so_ tiny," and she glanced at the treasures tenderly, "and +though it was not a bright day, there was no sunshine, they glowed and +gleamed as if they were gems. I walked on a little way, you see, after I +had picked up the one, and there, some yards ahead, lay the second, and +the same with the third. But it was the last. I feel sure it was the +last, though I went on some distance. And somehow, three seem the right +number for a fairy message. It matches the three times in my dreams." + +"Then you do think they are a message?" asked Aria. + +"Of course I do. I marked the path well by breaking off twigs and making +a little heap of pebbles. Indeed it was necessary, for I had never +noticed before that there was a path there at all," and when she went on +to describe its position Aria agreed with her that it seemed quite a new +discovery. + +For the rest of the week Linde appeared satisfied to rest quietly on her +oars. She made no more expeditions to the forest, and indeed spoke less +than she had done of her dreams and their interpretation, though that +she was thinking much about them her sister felt sure, from the look in +her pretty eyes and the way she sometimes smiled to herself for no +apparent reason. + +So the days passed till again it was Friday evening and the sisters went +early to bed. Everything was ready for their little stall at the market, +but Aria sighed as she remarked that their autumn posies now made but a +poor show. + +"But there are the rose-leaves," said Linde. + +"Yes," her sister replied, "but the last of them, alas! See, Linde, the +jar is quite emptied!" + +"Do not be so downcast, darling," said Linde as they kissed each other +for good-night. "Why, we have seemed to change places of late! It used +to be you always cheering me--now it is I to cheer you." + +Aria smiled. She felt sure that it was the hope of the dream being +repeated for the magic third time that was brightening her sister. But +she said nothing that night. Only the next morning when she woke very +early, just as the first faint streaks of coming dawn were beginning to +appear, she listened anxiously, wondering if Linde was still asleep, and +felt glad when a tiny rustle, followed by a whisper, showed that the +little girl was also awake. + +"Aria," she said, "Aria." + +"Yes, dear, what is it?" + +"It's come again, the third time," she exclaimed joyously. "My dream! +Quite the same as before, only that the old woman just smiled at me, and +said, 'Once more, then ask the robin.' Aria, darling, it _must_ mean +something." + +And Aria herself was impressed. + +"But where are we--or you--to find the robin?" she questioned. + +"You're forgetting about the feathers, and the mysterious path," replied +Linde. + +She had carefully wrapped up the tiny treasures and hidden them in the +front of her frock. The knowledge that she had them safely there seemed +to give her courage and hope. That Saturday's sale was again a great +success, and on the following day, as on the Sunday before, when they +returned from church and their simple mid-day dinner was over, Linde +told her sister that she was going to the forest. This time she scarcely +asked Aria's leave, and though the elder girl was a little anxious, she +felt that it would have been useless to attempt to stop her. + +"Very well, darling," she said. "But don't go very far or stay very +long. Promise me." + +Linde considered. + +"I think I can promise," she said, "to be back by sundown. But, Aria, I +believe I may have to go again much farther, or to do--I know not +what--but feelings are coming to me," and she unconsciously touched the +place where the redbreast feathers were nestling. "You won't forbid it, +sister, will you?" + +Aria's face grew very grave. + +"Whatever has to be done, and wherever," she said, "why cannot we go +together? I am afraid of the forest. Even father believed that there +was some spell or enchantment over it. You remember he never allowed us +to go into it beyond a certain distance. + +"Yes," said Linde dreamily, "I remember. But maybe," and her face +lighted up with a bright smile, "maybe, Aria, the spell, or whatever it +is, is going to be broken," and though the elder sister trembled a +little at the words, she, too, felt a curious thrill of pleasant +excitement. + +So the two kissed each other fondly and Linde set off. She was well +wrapped up in a warm cloak, for the autumn days were fast growing +chilly, especially of course in the forest, where the short amount of +mid-day sunshine scarcely penetrated, so closely growing were the trees. +The cloak had originally been their mother's, then Aria's, and now the +elder girl had refreshed and rebound it for her sister. It was of good, +thick stuff and red in colour, and as Linde turned for a moment to wave +another good-bye at the entrance to the wood, it struck Aria that the +child looked rather like a human robin redbreast herself. She smiled at +the idea; somehow it cheered her. "May all good angels and the saints +guard her," she murmured as she re-entered the cottage. + +Linde walked on steadily. Not very fast, for she was keenly on the +look-out for any signs or tokens to direct her, and most anxious not to +miss the opening to what in her own mind she called "the feather path." + +And to her satisfaction she found it without any difficulty. It was +still of course broad daylight, that is to say as light as was usual +among the trees, and as she made her way along she kept her eyes on the +ground in hopes of seeing some more tiny specks of the unmistakable +orange-red. + +But in vain. There were no more feathers waiting for her. + +Feeling rather discouraged, Linde stopped short, and looked around her. + +"I must have quite passed the place where I picked up the third +feather," she said to herself. "I did not come as far as this the last +time. Must I go home--what shall I do?" + +She drew her cloak a little closer, and as she did so, her fingers +touched the spot where nestled her treasures. Immediately her hopes +revived. + +"Go on, go on," something above her seemed to say. She glanced upwards, +almost fancying that a voice had spoken to her, but nothing was to be +seen--except--yes, on the branch of a fir-tree near at hand, some yards +overhead, a bird was perching, and not only a bird, to her immense +delight she saw that it was a robin! + +Had it _spoken_? She gazed at it. It chirped encouragingly and spreading +its wings flew down, and then flew onwards in front of her. + +"Stay, robin, stay, and tell me what to do," cried the child. But it +only turned its little head towards her for half a second, and then +continued its flight. Linde by this time, however, had lost all +hesitation. On she ran, as fast as she could go, though now and then, as +if in consideration for her, her small winged friend stopped for a +moment or two, and Linde grew less breathless. Then it looked back at +her again, and in this way they got over a good deal of ground, till at +last--why, she could not have told--Linde stopped. And looking up, she +saw that her guide had disappeared. + +She gazed round her. It was a strange spot. She had never been here +before. Of that she felt certain, for she could not have forgotten it. + +She was standing by the edge of a small clearing among the trees. It was +in the shape of a circle, and in front of the firs, whose stems are of +course as a rule bare, were planted short thick bushes as if for still +greater enclosing of the spot. So thickly indeed were these placed, that +turning round to look behind her, Linde wondered how she had come +through them, for no opening was to be seen. It was like standing in a +room of which the doorway is in some way or other completely concealed. +Her heart began to beat faster, for even though she had scarcely moved +she felt as if she could never find her way out again. + +Suddenly a clear chirping made her look up, and to her amazement she +saw, in the very centre of the circular clearing, an object which she +was almost certain had not been there a moment before. And it was not +only her eyes which told her this, for her nostrils at once inhaled a +delicious perfume which she could not, for an instant, have been +unconscious of. It was that of the precious leaves! + +And the object which she was gazing at was an indescribably beautiful +rose-bush in full bloom, on the topmost branch of which sat her friend +the robin! + +He nodded encouragingly--and now his chirps took shape. They grew into +words, but whether other ears than little Linde's would have heard this +I cannot say. Enough that _she_ understood. + +"Yes," he said, as if in answer to her unexpressed surprise, "yes, I +went down to fetch it up," and she knew that he was speaking of the +rose-bush, "for you to see it for yourself, my child." + +Linde gazed at him for a moment or two without speaking. Was she +dreaming? she asked herself. But the familiar fragrance reassured her. + +"Is it--?" she began, "are these the roses that our fairy powder came +from?" + +Again the robin bent his little head. + +"Even so," he replied. "Fairy roses, that never lose their perfume. And +you would gladly fill the old jar again, would you not?" + +Linde clasped her hands. + +"Oh yes, yes!" she exclaimed. "The leaves mean everything to us. Not +only food and clothing, but a home--a home for us two together, instead +of terrible separation. Oh Robin, darling, may I gather the flowers and +dry the leaves, ready for the market? I'd come any day--or every day, to +fetch them, and oh how grateful we should be," and the tears rushed to +her eyes in her eagerness. + +But the redbreast's tone grew grave, and Linde began to tremble with +fear that he would say it could not be. But when he spoke again his +words surprised her. + +"Do you know the story of the forest?" he asked. + +"Yes--some part of it, at least. We know that--that--" for she felt his +bright eyes fixed upon her, and it made her hesitate, "something very +sad happened, and since then, no robins ever come here," she murmured. + +"Sad--yes indeed," he repeated, "and worse than sad. Wicked, cruel! A +monster in the shape of a boy shot one of our favoured tribe, deservedly +favoured, for, as a Christian child you know since when, we have been +honoured for our faithful service?" + +Linde bowed her head reverently. + +"I know," she whispered. "It was very wicked of the boy. But it was a +long time ago," she went on. "Can't you forgive it, and come back to the +forest again?" + +"'Tis almost fifty years ago," the robin said. "And for fifty years the +place has been under the ban. Our queen--call her fairy queen, or +guardian angel as best pleases you--pronounced it. But around the tomb +of the innocent victim," and he pointed downwards, "she planted the +rose-trees, of whose flowers by special favour the old godmother, of +whom you have heard, was allowed to gather a few. For she it was who +found our poor brother--here on this very spot--and summoned us to his +side. Our ancestor, I should call him, for it was long ago, and our bird +lives are very short--so surely they should not be cut still shorter?" + +"Surely not," said Linde. "Then are those the leaves we had in our jar? +I thought it was a powder--a fairy powder that the godmother +bequeathed?" + +"So it was. She dried and ground the precious leaves, and with the +powder perfumed the petals of her own garden roses, every year, so long +as she lived. But she never re-visited the spot. It has been closed ever +since the day when, the arrow still transfixing his tender body, the +robin was buried, though not dead." + +"Not dead," cried Linde. "What can you mean?" + +"That was the decree," he replied. "For fifty years he was to lie here, +till the forest could be purified from the pollution of cruelty." + +"And how can that be done?" Linde asked eagerly. + +"By the hands of a maiden--a child-maiden, who never, _never_ has been +guilty of cruelty to any living thing. Linde, are you that maiden?" + +The little girl was silent. Then she looked up, and her blue eyes did +not falter beneath the piercing gaze of the bird. + +"I think, yes, I think," she said, "no, I _know_ that I have never +wished or meant to cause suffering. If ever it has come through me, it +has not been by any intention of mine." + +"You speak the truth. We have watched and tested you, though you knew it +not," was the reply. "Now something more is asked of you. Courage!" + +"I'm afraid, I'm dreadfully afraid I'm not very brave," said poor Linde, +all sorts of alarming ideas rushing through her brain as to what might +be asked of her. Were they going to shoot _her_, possibly? Or to shut +her up in the tomb with the dead, or not dead robin? + +"Do not look so terrified," said the robin. "More shall not be asked of +you than you can do. We are not a revengeful race, as you well know. We +have always been faithful and loving friends to human beings. You know +the story of----" + +"Of the Babes in the Wood," interrupted Linde. "Of course I do. It was +partly that, that made me think of you, about _leaves_, you know," and +her face brightened. "I will try to be brave," she added. + +"That is right," said the bird. "Some expiation _must_ be made for that +boy's evil deed, and, as I have already told you, it was decreed that +the one to offer it must be a child entirely innocent of cruelty or +unkindness. For this, _you_, little Linde, have been chosen. Three +nights hence the fifty years come to an end--the moment for the spell to +be broken will arrive. Before midnight, you must be here, standing on +this very spot, where you now see me." + +Linde started. Had she shut her eyes for an instant?--what had happened +to them? For, to her amazement, the rose-bush was no longer there! The +robin stood on the grass, in the centre of the cleared circle. Yet she +had not seen the disappearance, nor heard the faintest rustle! + +"Oh dear," she thought, "magic doings are very queer. There _was_ a +rose-bush there, I am quite certain," but she said nothing. Some +instinct told her it was best to take things calmly, and to listen +attentively to the robin's instructions. "Where you now see me," he went +on, "till you hear the clock strike twelve." + +"The clock," Linde repeated. "There's no clock here in the middle of the +wood." + +"Indeed," said the robin. "Would you like to know the time at the +present moment?" + +"Yes," Linde replied. "I suppose it's nearly four o'clock." + +"Listen," whispered the bird, and as she obeyed, there fell on her ears +the prettiest bell-like chimes she had ever heard. "One, two, three--" +on to twenty, then a pause and in deeper tones, "one, two, three, four." + +"Twenty minutes to four," said her friend. "If it had been _past_ four, +the four would have struck first. All _our_ clocks are what your clumsy +human watchmakers call 'repeaters,' you see." + +"And what do you do to make them tell you the time?" asked the little +girl eagerly. + +"You just say 'What o'clock is it?' That is of course if you are at one +of the entrances to fairyland. You can generally find one if you look +about. They are always in the centre of a ring." + +"Oh," replied Linde, "that's a good thing to know. I often see fairy +rings, but I had no idea they had a door in the middle. Then tell me +more, please. I must wait till I hear the fairy clock strike twelve, +and then--will the door open? And--what do you want me to do? And--if I +can do it, will you let me gather some roses?" + +"Not so fast, not so fast," said the robin. "Let me see--what was I +saying? You stand here--the clock strikes, at the twelfth stroke you tap +the ground with the three feathers--you have them safe?" + +"Yes," replied Linde, feeling for them as she spoke. + +"The door will then open and you will descend. That is all you require +to know at present. Three nights hence, three nights hence." + +"But," began the little girl, "I must know something more. How am I to +find my way here in the middle of the night when it is all dark? It +wasn't easy to distinguish the path even by daylight, and now, even now, +I don't know how to get through these thick bushes on to it. I can't see +any opening in them." + +Instead of replying the robin suddenly spread his wings and alighted on +a bush close beside her, and at once Linde perceived that there was a +narrow sort of passage through the hedge. She turned towards it. + +"Thank you," she said, adding timidly, "May Aria come with me? Together +we might find our way better perhaps. We might bring a little lantern." + +"It will not be needed, and you must come alone. You may tell Aria all I +have told you; and if she is wise she will encourage you. I make no +promises. It is not for me to do so. But this you may depend upon--never +will you have cause to regret obedience to this summons," and as he +spoke, he spread his wings again and flew upwards. As he passed her, +there came a breath of the delicious perfume, and Linde felt that it +meant a promise after all, which raised her spirits, as pushing her way +through the hedge she found herself on the path outside and started on +her way home. + +"Aria will be getting anxious," she thought. "I must hurry. I do believe +it is all going to come right, but--oh dear, I do feel frightened at the +idea of finding my way here alone through these gloomy woods in the very +middle of the night. Why wouldn't the robin let Aria come too? I suppose +it _had_ to be a rather dreadful thing to do, to make up for that cruel +boy's wickedness. Oh dear, oh dear!" + +But as she ran on as fast as her feet would take her, some things grew +clearer. She must make the best of it to her sister. She must conceal +her terrors as much as possible. + +"For supposing," she reflected, "that dear Aria really _wouldn't_ let me +go and that it all came to nothing--the dreams and the feathers and this +wonderful talking robin, how could I ever get over it? We should have to +be parted pretty certainly, and would not that be a thousand times more +terrible than having to face the dark forest for once? For deep down in +my heart I feel certain that I shall be taken care of. I am proud to be +chosen to break the spell and to make the forest again a happy place--a +home for the dear robins, and favoured by the fairies as it used to be +all those years ago--yes, I am proud to be the chosen one. And I know it +will lead to our getting the precious leaves to sell, as many as we +want, and _that_ means everything to us, home and comfort and the being +together. Yes, I _will_ be brave." + +So when, at some little distance from the boundary of the forest, she +caught sight in the gloaming of her sister's figure anxiously looking +out for her, she ran towards her with cheerful eagerness, calling out as +loudly as she could, "It's all right, darling. Good news--good news." + +Nevertheless, when Aria had heard the whole strange story, her face grew +very grave. + +"Linde, my sweetest," she said, "I _cannot_ let you do it. Alone in the +middle of the night, and winter close at hand! Wolves have been known to +find their way into the forest, and not only that, we ourselves have +every reason to believe there is some unhappy enchantment over the +place----" + +"Yes," Linde agreed. "That is exactly why I have been chosen--to break +the spell." + +"But," persisted poor Aria, "how do we know that the robin may not be +deceiving us? Possibly he is a witch or wizard in disguise! Possibly a +fairy, not wishing you harm, but hoping to steal you away. Fairies +always try to lure human children to live with them. Folks say it +prolongs their own spell of life if they succeed." + +Linde considered. + +"No," she said at last. "The fairies who love these woods are good and +true, I feel certain. I daresay there are different kinds of fairies, +just as there are of people. But you can feel that these ones are kind +and loving by their care for the robins. Then, remember my dreams, +sister. Our mother's godmother would not wish harm to come to us, and +so far, all her messages to us have only brought us great good, and +greater is in store for us, I am firmly convinced. Be quite happy about +it, darling. You know I am naturally rather cowardly, much less +courageous than you, yet see how cheerful I feel about it. I have no +misgivings." + +And this was true. For the time, at least, all the little girl's fears +had flown away. So Aria said no more, though from time to time during +the next few days when she glanced at her sister she could not repress a +sigh. + +"Supposing," she thought to herself, "_supposing_ I never see her again! +They might steal her away and let her come back twenty or even fifty +years hence without her knowing that more than a few hours had passed. +She would find me an old broken-down woman, if she found me at all, +which I doubt, for I could not live without her." + +As these gloomy ideas floated through her mind she was standing in the +porch of the cottage, gazing at the forest. Suddenly, a soft chirping +reached her ears, and looking up, she caught sight of a redbreast +perching on the little garden gate. He seemed to look at her, then +spread his wings and flew away, passing near her overhead. And at that +moment there came to the elder girl the same breath of the familiar +delicious perfume which had cheered Linde when she parted with the +robin, and with the same effect. From that moment Aria's misgivings left +her, and to a great extent even her anxiety. + +"Yes," she said to herself, "she must go. It is meant. It would be +useless for me to interfere." + +This happened on the very morning of the fated day. + +The weather was already almost wintry. + +"Linde," said her sister that evening, "I won't ask you to undress and +go to bed, but I will keep up a good fire here in the kitchen, so that +you shall at least start warm. And you shall have a cup of good hot soup +last thing." + +"Very well and thank you, dear," Linde replied. "I will sit here in +father's comfortable old chair till the time comes for me to go. And I +will promise to drink all the soup and to put on all my wraps, if you, +Aria, will go to bed as usual and try to sleep till I come back again. +The only thing that would make me lose courage would be to leave you +standing at the door looking after me. I may sleep myself. I daresay I +shall, if I know you are in bed. For I am certain I shall wake in good +time. As to that I have no fear." + +Rather reluctantly, Aria consented to do as Linde wished, on condition +that the little girl gave her promise to come to her at once on her +return, and to arouse her if by chance she were sleeping. + +Linde sat by the fire and listened to the ticking of the old clock, and +the occasional fall of a cinder, till her eyes grew drowsy and she +dozed. Though not conscious of being really asleep, she felt as if but a +few minutes had passed, when the clock striking--more loudly than usual, +it seemed to her--made her start. + +"One, two, three," she counted, on to eleven. + +"Yes, actually eleven," she said to herself. "I have had a nice long +sleep and I feel quite fresh, and it is time to be off." + +She drank the soup, and wrapped herself up; and after laying a large log +on the fire, there to smoulder till she came back, she softly opened the +door and stepped out, closing it again, though happily, in that peaceful +and friendly part of the world, there was no need for bars or bolts. + +A little exclamation of surprise escaped her as she glanced about her. +It was full moon--the garden and the open space between it and the +beginning of the forest were flooded with light. Somehow she had not +expected this. In fact, relying upon the mysterious guidance and help +which she felt sure would be given to her, she had not troubled herself +beforehand about how it was all to be managed, and the sisters went so +early to bed that they were often asleep before moonrise, if it were +late. + +Linde smiled to herself with pleasure and ran gaily through the garden +and along the field-path. And for some little way inside the forest her +route was quite clear. But after a while it grew darker. The trees +became more dense, and denser still she knew they would be the farther +she advanced. So she walked more slowly, looking well about her, and now +and then pressing the three precious feathers in the front of her +bodice. + +"The great thing is not to miss the little path," she kept repeating, +and after she had walked what seemed a considerable way, she began to +fear she had done so. + +Then for the first time her courage threatened to fail her, and her +heart took to beating much faster than was pleasant. She stood still. +Strange uncanny sounds seemed in the air. Wailings far off among the +trees; faint groans and stealthy rustlings as if some weird creatures +were trying to get near her, a sudden sharp screech--it was only an owl, +but that the child did not know!--and then the very curious, very thin +and minute squeal of a bat, so seldom audible to human ears. + +"Oh dear," whispered Linde. "Robin, have you tricked me? I don't know +where I am, and though it is so lonely, I seem to feel invisible +creatures all about me. Oh, robin, you didn't tell me it would be so +difficult to find the way." + +Then something touched her foot; she gave a little scream, till looking +down she perceived a point of light just in front of her, and heard a +well-known voice. + +"Foolish child," it said. "You might trust me. This is the entrance to +the path. You have only to follow me." + +"Are you carrying a lamp--a fairy lamp?" asked Linde in a tone of great +relief. "Why--I could fancy it was a glow-worm, only it is far too late +in the year." + +"You are right," said her guide. "It is a glow-worm. We take care of +them--they sleep down below all the winter. But I woke up this fellow +on purpose. He is quite comfortable on my back. Now we must make haste. +Follow me steadily till we come to the magic circle. Then you must act +for yourself--you know what to do." + +He flew forward--near enough to the ground for Linde to keep the tiny +light well in view. And to her surprise she found she could make her way +quite easily without stumbling or hesitation, and now and then a faint +whiff of scent reached her, as if to increase her confidence, though +whether it was wafted back from the redbreast's wings or upwards from +the little bunch of feathers, she could not have told. + +And at last--for, after all, making your way in the dark is very +monotonous work--the light stopped just in front of her, and she +realised that she was standing before the thickly growing bushes which +hedged the clearing. And before she had time to wonder how to push her +way through, the shrubs seemed to divide, as if held back by invisible +hands, and through the opening thus made, Linde caught sight of the +magic circle gleaming like silver in the moonlight. + +Her guide had vanished, but now without hesitation she ran forward, +till she reached the central spot, where the rose-bush had risen to +view, and whence she had been told she would find her way to the unknown +regions below. + +She stood still for a moment or two, somewhat dazzled by the sudden +radiance, soft and lovely though it was. Then she stooped and examined +the ground, but the smooth, even turf showed not the least sign of an +opening of any kind, such as she had half expected to see. As she stood +up again her fingers touched the front of her dress and she remembered +the feathers. + +"I am to tap with them," she reminded herself. "But not till the fairy +clock strikes twelve. Shall I ask what time it is now? No, I think it is +better to wait quietly. I am sure I am not too late, but I think it must +be nearly midnight." + +She felt curiously calm, and very wide-awake. There was not the very +slightest sound to be heard--a complete contrast to the surrounding +forest--not a rustle, not a murmur, never had Linde before realised what +utter silence could be. She almost felt as if she herself should not +move a finger, scarcely even breathe. And when in a little she became +conscious that her heart was again beating much faster than its wont, +she felt as if she must press it tightly to make it be quiet. And the +gesture once more recalled the feathers. She drew them out. + +"Best have them ready," she thought. + +Then she stood motionless. + +And suddenly, coming upwards to her, and yet sounding in the silent air +as if all around her, came the fairy chimes--one, two, three, four, for +the completed hour, and then the sweet musical deeper note, twelve times +repeated. + +Linde was all alert. + +She stooped at once and tapped three times with the three tiny feathers. + +And then what exactly happened she could not have told. She felt herself +lifted a little way and made somehow or other to sit down on what seemed +a soft cushion. It was really a thick, round sod of turf, and as soon as +she was seated on it, it began to descend--down, down, making her at +first feel rather giddy, though it moved slowly. She shut her eyes, and +the giddiness left her. Then she opened them, but all seemed darkness +for some seconds, till a faint light began to creep up, growing brighter +as her strange journey continued, and at last steadying into a pleasant +glow, not glaring or bewildering, but clear and bright, so as to show +all surrounding objects distinctly. + +Linde sprang to her feet in delight. She was in the sweetest place she +had ever dreamed of. Sweet in every sense, for it was a small garden of +the beautiful rose-bushes, like the one the robin had shown her. And the +scent was the exquisite one so familiar to her. + +She was standing at the entrance to a sort of bower, or niche, in the +midst of the fragrant bushes, and glancing into it she saw that there +was a little hillock in its centre, and on this hillock were perched +what at first seemed to her hundreds of redbreasts. In reality, I think +there were about fifty--all motionless, till from their midst flew out +one, whom by some instinct Linde recognised as her old friend. + +"Birds," he said, for, to the fairy-touched ears of the child, chirps +were words, "birds! She has come. And the time has come. Friends, bid +her welcome." + +And a lovely welcome it was which poured from the many little throats. + +"Thank you, dear robins," said Linde, feeling sure that she was expected +to say something, "thank you, dear birds. You know I love you, and I do +hope you will soon come to live in the forest again. But now please +tell me what it is you want me to do." + +There was a sudden loud flutter of wings. All the robins at the same +moment flew upwards from the hillock and perched themselves in clusters +among the rose-trees which formed the bower. Only one remained on the +hillock. Linde knew him for her guide. Beside him lay a small bright +object. It was a finely made and polished spade. + +He touched it with one of his claws. + +"Take this, Linde," he said solemnly, "and dig. But first, stroke it +with the three feathers." + +"Where am I to dig?" asked the little girl, as she obeyed him. + +"Here of course," was the reply, "here. It is the tomb of our ancestor, +where for fifty years he has lain entranced." + +Linde lifted the spade. It was beautifully light. + +"What a dear little tool it is!" she thought to herself. "I wish they +would let me keep it. It would be lovely for careful digging round the +delicate tiny roots that are so easily damaged." + +But these reflections she kept to herself, for she felt the fifty pairs +of bright eyes upon her. Just at present it was a question of doing what +she was told. + +So she stroked the spade with her tiny feather posy, and then stepped +forward close to the green mound. In her heart she felt doubtful as to +whether the toy spade would be strong enough to cut through the turf. +But as the robin flew up to a neighbouring branch, thus leaving the +coast quite clear for her operations, there was nothing for it but to +try. And to her satisfaction the blade glided through the sods almost +without any effort of hers. In fact it seemed to direct her movements, +so that in a very short time a neat round hole was made in the little +hillock, revealing a sort of nest of the well-known dried rose-leaves, +in the midst of which lay the tiny body of a--to all appearance +dead--robin redbreast. + +"Lift him," whispered her friend, evidently in the greatest excitement. + +Linde did so, carefully and almost reverently. He was a most beautiful +bird, a king of his kind. His feathers were smooth, his breast rich in +colouring, his eyes closed. There was nothing death-like or painful +about him, except--ah yes--Linde could not repress a little shiver at +the sight--a small dart or arrow transfixed the dainty body, pinning one +wing to his side, where a drop of blood told its cruel tale. + +"Draw it out," came the next command. + +"I feel as if it would hurt him," murmured Linde tremulously. But there +came a sort of trill of entreaty from the fifty watchers, and she felt +that she must obey. So mastering her own misgiving, she took firm hold +of the head of the dart, and deftly drew it out, thinking as she did so, +"It will hurt him less if I do it quickly." + +It took some little strength, but it did not break, and to her surprise +the hole it should have left, disfiguring the pretty creature, closed at +once. Then the bird gave a sudden shiver, a thrill of returning life +passed through him--Linde herself was conscious of it in her +fingers--his eyes unclosed; he looked up at her, then, with a wonderful +note of exceeding joy, he spread his wings and flew round the bower, +returning again to perch on the child's still outstretched hand, as if +in gratitude. + +[Illustration: With a wonderful note of exceeding joy, he spread his +wings and flew round the bower, returning again to perch on the child's +still outstretched hand, as if in gratitude.] + +And then--and then--oh if you could have heard the carol of delight that +burst out from the comrades of the spell-freed redbreast! It was too +beautiful to describe; nor could it be described in human language. For +after all, exquisite as may be the bird songs--nightingales' or +thrushes', blackbirds' or larks', which delight us, it cannot, I fear, +fall to our lot to hear them, as did favoured Linde, in fairyland! + +She stood enraptured till the melody subsided and there was silence +again, broken by the voice of the small master of the ceremonies. + +"It is done," he said, "and perfectly done. The spell is broken, the sad +enchantment ended. The forest is our own again. Our beloved ancestor +restored to us and to the life of which he was so cruelly deprived +before he had had his rightful share." + +"Oh the joy of it, the joy of it!" trilled the resuscitated bird, as he +fluttered from Linde's hand to her shoulder, and a chorus of sympathy +burst out again. + +But Linde's guide had not yet finished his speech. He held up one claw +and there was silence. + +"Friends," he began again. "What is to be this maiden's reward for what +she has done? Our gracious lady protector, the Queen of the Fairies, has +left it to us to decide. We must be generous as well as grateful, for +Linde deserves it of us--and remember, but for her sweet and loving +nature, not all her courage in braving alone the cold and darkness could +have succeeded. Brothers, shall we let her choose her reward?" + +A universal chirp of "Yes, yes" was the reply. + +So the speaker turned again to the little girl. + +"Linde," he said, "good Linde, you who have never been guilty of a cruel +unkind deed, Linde, you who have been brave and obedient, what do you +choose?" + +"Oh robin, dear robin," she exclaimed, "I think you must know already. +The leaves, the delicious leaves from the redbreast's roses--if we may +always have these, Aria and I will be safe and happy. I will come to +fetch them in the middle of the night or whenever you like--and," she +added, with a little smile, "_might_ I have the fairy spade too?" + +The robin held up his claw again. + +"Yes, yes," came the answer in bird language, followed by some chirps +which Linde's ears were not yet "fairy-wise" enough to translate. + +"Your requests are granted," said the president. "You may keep the +spade," for it was still lying beside her. "Small as it is, it is +endowed with magic power. If you keep it bright and clean it will do +good work in your garden. And my friends and relations, headed by our +revered ancestor," he waved his claw, and the kingly robin fluttered to +Linde's head, where he gave an approving chirp, replied to by the +audience, "desire me to say that it will not be necessary for you to +fetch the leaves. You will only require to place the old jar on the +window-sill overnight whenever it needs replenishing, laying the three +feathers inside it; and in the morning it will be filled as you wish." + +"Thank you, thank you," cried Linde again, "and now, dear robins, I must +hurry home. I shall never forget this lovely place. May I never come +again?" + +Her guide answered rather sadly. + +"I fear not. Few, very few, mortals have come even as far as an entrance +to fairyland. Nor could you ever find this spot again, try as you might. +But we--we robins, will often see you in the forest, no longer forbidden +ground." + +"Yes, that is true," Linde replied cheerfully. "Then good-night--not +good-bye, to you all, and please tell me how I am to get up again to the +clearing, so as to run home to relieve Aria's anxiety and tell her the +good news." + +"That _we_ will manage," said her first friend. "Birds!" + +There was an answering flutter. + +"Seat yourself comfortably, my child, and close your eyes." + +Linde obeyed, but not before seeing and feeling that all the assembled +robins were flying down and surrounding her, so that with the velvety +softness of the grassy sod and the fluffy feeling of the feathered +creatures encircling her, she seemed in a cosy nest, and already +somewhat sleepy. Then a slight touch on the top of her head made her +start a little. + +"It is only we two," chirped her guide, "I and the noble bird who owes +his life to you. We are here to direct the air voyage. Rest, my child, +rest and be at peace." + +Linde did not know that she fell asleep, though afterwards she knew it +must have been so. She felt herself rising, rising--then a breath of +colder air met her face, and--that was all she knew, till--she awoke, +and found herself in the porch of the cottage, and--to prove the night's +adventures had been no dream, in one hand the little spade, in the other +the three red feathers, still firmly clasped. + +She was a very practical maiden, in spite of her fairy perceptions, so +the first thing she did was to lay the small treasures safely in the old +jar, saying to herself, and "to-morrow night--no, I should say to-night, +we will place it outside on the window-sill and in the morning it will +be filled with the lovely leaves. What news, what joy to tell Aria!" + +She ran upstairs--softly--but her sister was awake. + +"Darling," she said, "are you really safely back? Yet I have not been +anxious. Somehow I felt you were all right and I have had a peaceful +sleep." + +Then Linde told her the whole wonderful story and showed her the little +spade. And at night you may be sure they did not forget to put the jar +in the appointed place, to find it in the morning replenished with +rose-leaves whose perfume seemed even more delicious than ever before. +So Saturday found them with plenty of their treasured wares for sale, +and quickly were they bought. + +Nor was this only temporary good fortune. + +The fame of their dried roses spread far and wide, and orders came from +great distances, so that the two sisters were able not only to go on +living together in greater comfort than they had ever known, but even to +lay aside savings for a possible "rainy day." + +Though as far as I could learn--this story, you know, is of a fairly +long ago "once upon a time"--that day never came to the happy girls. +The robins never failed them. The cottage garden and the neighbouring +forest grew to be famed for the peculiarly beautiful redbreasts which +there abounded. The uncanny reputation of the woods was quite forgotten, +and on the contrary it was said to bring good luck to those who often +strolled about in them. + +I think both Aria and Linde married in due time and had happy homes of +their own. One or other certainly did so, for the country-folk of that +remote part of the world, from whom I learnt the story, showed me a +specially lovely rose--"the robins' rose," it was called, and told me +that it had been cultivated by the descendants of the sisters, till, for +some reasons which I could not discover, the family had moved elsewhere. + +"And they do say," added one aged dame, "that they grew to be rich and +important, much looked up to and respected, which one can believe, if +they took after their great-grandmothers and were favoured by the 'good +people,' as those pretty maidens were." + +I suppose the old jar and the magic spade were carried away as +heirlooms, for though I looked about in some very curious antique shops +in the neighbouring town, hoping to find one or both, I never succeeded +in doing so, nor could I trace the family at all, which is scarcely to +be wondered at, as no one still living remembered the sisters save by +the quaint names of "Aria" and "Linde"--names which I love, and which I +hope this story may lead others to love also. + + + + +A Magic Table + + +Once upon a time--how long ago really does not matter--there lived in a +certain country--and where that country is, does not matter +either--three young men of about the same age. They were not brothers, +but they had always been neighbours, and they must have been some sort +of cousins, for they had an old relation whom they all called uncle and +who called them all nephews. + +"Nephew Hodge," "nephew Giles," and "nephew Michael." Those were their +names, though I fancy the last--he was the youngest--was more often +"Mike" than "Michael." + +They were all three steady, well-behaved fellows, and very friendly with +each other, which was natural as in several ways their circumstances +were curiously alike. They were all orphans, and though Hodge and Giles +had sisters, these were married and settled at a distance, and as for +Mike he had nobody at all belonging to him, and as he was a very +affectionate creature, but for his two friends he would have felt lonely +indeed. They were all poor--very poor--the one thing each had inherited +from his parents was a home, such as it was. Just a small cottage with a +bit of garden ground, which in their leisure hours each cultivated to +the best of his ability, thus growing some hardy fruit and vegetables +which helped to support them, and a few pretty flowers, to brighten +things up a bit. + +They had a little friendly rivalry over these tiny gardens. Hodge's +produced the best vegetables, Giles's the finest fruit, but young +Michael's far and away the loveliest flowers. And instead of quarrelling +as to which of them deserved the most praise as a gardener, like +sensible fellows, each gave a present to the other two of his special +triumphs. + +There was still another curious bond between the three--which in most +cases would have been the very reverse of a bond, and pretty certainly +would have dissolved the friendship. They were all in love with the same +girl. A charming girl she was, but of her, more shall be told hereafter. +Perhaps the hopelessness of their admiration for her helped to keep the +peace, for they were far too poor to aspire to her, as she was a damsel +with a dowry of gold and silver, as well as of sweet looks and sweet +character. So the three used to sit together and sing her praises with +no bitterness or jealousy. + +The cottages stood at some distance apart, half or a quarter of a mile +or so between them. So that in busy seasons, such as hay-making or +harvesting, our friends sometimes saw very little of each other for days +at a time, as they were not labourers on the same farm. But the long +dull winter evenings they made a point of spending together, taking +their cottages in turns as a meeting-place, for as to comfort, the three +dwellings were much of a muchness, though Mike's somehow always looked +the nicest, as in summer he adorned it with his flowers, and even in +winter managed to tie up bunches of pretty leaves and bright-coloured +berries to give his kitchen a cheerful air. + +And besides these friendly evenings, the three young men always met on +Sundays, and that all the year round. For on that day they had a +standing invitation to dine with the old uncle, who was, as I forgot to +say, also godfather to all three. + +This personage was in some ways very peculiar and indeed rather +mysterious. Strange stories were whispered concerning him through the +country-side. Some said that he was a wizard; nearly all agreed that, at +best, he had dealings with "the good people." But though to a certain +extent he was feared, he was not disliked, as on more than one occasion +he was known to have shown great kindness to families in distress, +though how he came to hear so quickly of other folks' troubles remained +a mystery, as he lived at a considerable distance from any other +dwelling, and was too infirm ever to leave his own cottage. + +He was of course reputed to be very rich, but that, as you will learn, +was a mistake. And a miser he could not well be called, considering the +kind actions I have alluded to, and the steady hospitality he showed to +his godsons, Hodge, Giles, and Michael. The truth was--and there need be +no secret about it--that "Uncle Peter" had a small pension for life, +sufficient to keep him in simple comfort. For long ago he had been a +soldier and a brave one, though he seldom talked of those old days. Sad +things had happened to him, and for many years he had been a lonely man +before, just about the time these grandnephews of his were born, he +wandered back to the part of the country which had been his home as a +boy, there, like Rip Van Winkle, to find none of his generation left, +though he made friends in his own way with the remaining members of his +family and their children. + +Peter had travelled far and had seen queer places and queer people and +had learnt some queer things. It was no great wonder that he got the +name of being something of a wizard, for there was no doubt that he knew +of things happening or going to happen in ways that could not be +explained. But notwithstanding this, he was not regarded with fear, only +with a kind of respectful awe. Even his godsons felt this, though at the +same time they were really attached to him and grateful for his +hospitality, in itself of a very strange character. For though he was +never known to buy food of any sort, and was supposed to live entirely +upon the fruit and vegetables he himself grew, and though he had no one +to cook for him and no fireplace or stove where anything but the very +simplest things could be boiled or roasted or even heated, the weekly +dinner provided for his three guests, every Sunday, was of the very +best. Not only was the food of excellent quality, it was also abundant. +Indeed, at times when work was short, as in the winter often is the +case, both for artisans in towns and for labourers in the country, I +doubt if the three cousins would have kept as well and hearty as they +did but for this substantial and nourishing meal regularly once a week. + +They had often wondered how Uncle Peter managed it, and once or twice +they had hazarded a tactful enquiry of their host on the subject. But it +had served no purpose. On the contrary, both Hodge and Giles, who had +been the questioners, had been quickly silenced by the old man's reply. + +"Did you never hear the proverb about not looking a gift horse in the +mouth?" he said the first time. "True, there is nothing about my dishes +which you are not free to test if you choose, both as to quality and +cooking. All the same, I think the saying conveys a broad hint as to the +courtesy suited to those who accept a gift." + +And to Giles he was even more severe. + +"When you invite me to a Sunday feast, my good nephew," he said, "I +promise to eat thereof with gratitude, and with no curiosity as to +whence or how you procured it," at which reprimand Giles looked very +foolish, and could only humbly ask Peter's pardon, adding, "That day, I +misdoubt me, my respected uncle, will never dawn." + +For, as I have already said, the three young men were very poor. + +Still, when they were sitting of an evening by themselves, with no fear +of offending the old man by their talk, it was only natural that they +should discuss the mystery. There was a peculiar rule about their Sunday +visit. They were obliged to be exceedingly punctual, by which I mean, +neither too early nor too late. Half an hour after noon was the +appointed time, so they arranged to meet at church, and when the service +was over to wait in the porch till the ancient clock struck twelve, as +they found that by then starting at once for Peter's cottage and walking +rather quickly they reached it just a minute or two before the dinner +hour. + +Often, when waiting thus at the church door, they would receive a smile +and a nod from the girl they all adored--pretty Ysenda--and now and then +she would even stop a moment and say to whichever of the three happened +to be nearest at hand, "My love to Uncle Peter, and a pleasant visit to +him." Not that he was her uncle or any relation, but she had got into +the habit of going to see him sometimes out of pity for his loneliness, +and the old man had taken a great fancy to her. In fact she was the only +visitor he ever received, with of course the exception of the nephews on +Sunday. + +Once--some time ago it was, when the custom had first begun--Michael had +by accident arrived at Peter's cottage some minutes before the others. +He was on the point of knocking at the door when something stopped him. +He afterwards declared that he did not know what. But standing there, he +heard sounds within--curious sounds--his uncle's voice, slow and solemn +as if reciting something, then a very delicate tinkle as of a tiny bell, +and lastly a whirring sound as of wheels moving quickly, and then +complete silence. And while he was debating as to whether he should +knock or not, to his relief he heard his cousins' footsteps approaching. +He turned back a little way to meet them, but before he had time to tell +them what he had heard, the door opened and their host stood there +bidding them welcome. + +Ever after that they all three came together as I have told you, and +waited at a little distance till their uncle made his appearance. For +Michael confided to his cousins that there had been something uncanny +about the mysterious sounds. Furthermore he felt instinctively that he +had not been meant to overhear them, and that if Peter knew of it he +might have been angry, and possibly would never have invited them again. + +Hence, Michael, of the three, was the most careful as to what he said to +the old man, and never did he venture to show any curiosity on the +subject of the whence or how of the mysterious feast. + +But now and then he had a queer feeling that pretty Ysenda +_knew_--what?--he could not define it, more clearly than by suspecting +that she was in old Peter's confidence in a way that he and his friends +were not. + +And one evening--it was a Saturday--when the three were sitting together +in his cottage, he expressed something of the kind to Hodge and Giles. +They were very much surprised. + +"She is a good, true-hearted maiden," he added. "I don't for a moment +mean that she has any selfish motives for her attentions to our +godfather." + +"That's to say you don't suspect her of trying to supplant us in his +favour, as to inheriting whatever he has to leave?" said Hodge. There +was some suspicion in his tone, much as he admired Ysenda. + +"One never knows," added Giles. "_She_ may have no thought of the +kind--why should she? She is rich already--all the same, Uncle Peter may +make her his heir, without her being to blame." + +"I think it most unlikely," replied Michael. "No such idea was in my +mind. Besides," he went on, growing rather indignant, "Ysenda is just +the girl to put a stop to anything unfair. She is as kind and generous +as a woman can be. We all know of her goodness in any case of poverty or +distress that she hears of. No, all I meant was that she may know +something of Uncle Peter's dealings with the 'good people'; she is just +the sort of sweet maiden that the fairies love." + +"Maybe," said Giles, who was not very ready to believe in anything he +could not see with his own eyes, "maybe she herself is the only fairy in +the matter. Maybe _she_ provides the feast." + +"Impossible," said Hodge and Mike, and so it was. + +"Anyway," persisted Giles, "I daresay it's she who tells him of the +misfortunes and accidents he gets to know of so quickly." + +"On the contrary," replied Michael, "she has told me herself that it has +often been Uncle Peter who has been _her_ informant in such matters, and +that he has employed her to carry assistance to the sufferers. There +was that great fire last winter at Olden Wood. She happened to see him +the very same morning while it was still blazing, five miles off, and no +one hereabouts knew of it! And the letter from over the sea telling of +Widow Martha's son's death, reducing her to poverty, for he'd been a +good son, always sending her money. _Why_," Mike went on very solemnly, +"_he knew what was in that letter_ before it had reached Martha's +hands!" + +There was no reply to this. Even Giles was much impressed, and all three +started when just at that moment there came a tap at the door, for it +was getting late, and being far on in the autumn the evening grew dark +very early. + +The cousins looked at each other half timorously, for even the bravest +of men--and they were by no means cowards--may be momentarily frightened +by anything uncanny. + +The tap was repeated. + +Michael got up and opened the door cautiously. What he expected to see +he could not have said, but a witch astride on a gander, or a goblin +with scarlet ears as big as a donkey's and a long tail, would scarcely +have surprised him! + +Instead--how different!--there stood two small figures--children +evidently, and as a very plaintive little voice reached him, he threw +open the door more widely, so that the light from within fell on the +new-comers, and he perceived that they were a boy and girl, apparently +about twelve or fourteen years old, poorly though decently clad, each +carrying a bundle, and with pale, travel-tired faces. + +"Please," said the voice--it was the boy's, the elder of the two--"oh +please can you tell me if Dame Martha Swann lives here or near here?" + +Michael started again. It was of this very dame he had just been +speaking. Were these two of the "good people" in disguise, come to visit +him for some mysterious reason? He took care to answer very politely. + +"Not here, but not so very far off," he replied, and the gentleness of +his tone encouraged the child to ask further. "Then can you show us the +road there? We are dreadfully tired--at least my little sister is, and +we have lost our way somehow." + +As the boy went on speaking, Michael's misgivings left him. The two were +plainly ordinary human beings, though something in the child's voice or +accent showed that they did not belong to this part of the world. + +"Come in and rest yourselves for a while," said Mike. "Warm yourselves +too. It is a chilly evening." + +"Oh thank you," was the reply, as the two eagerly accepted his +invitation. He led them towards the fire and drew forward seats, while +Hodge and Giles, their pipes in their hands, stared in surprise. + +"Whom have we here?" exclaimed Hodge; his tone sounded suspicious, and +Giles too hung back a little. + +"How should I know?" said Michael sharply. "You see as much as I. +Whoever they are and wherever from, it's surely the least one can do to +let them rest for a few minutes. No doubt they can explain about +themselves. You were asking for old Dame Martha, my boy?" he went on. + +"Yes, yes," was the ready reply, "we are her grandchildren. My name is +Paul--Paul Swann, like father," his voice shook, "and----" + +"I'm Mattie," said the girl, speaking for the first time. "That's for +'Martha,' like granny. Oh how I wish this was her house! I'm so tired." + +"Poor little maid," said Michael kindly. "Well it's not so far to your +granny's, and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll carry you there myself. +But first you must have a bite of bread and a drink of milk. I'll have +it ready in a minute," and he turned to the cupboard, which was almost +as bare as Mother Hubbard's, for the bread and milk were all there was +for his own breakfast! + +The children were famishing. The food disappeared in a twinkling. Then +the boy explained that they had come all across the sea to take refuge +with their grandmother in their desolation since their father's death, +for their mother had died five years ago. Some kindly disposed people +had seen them on board the ship, and given them a little money to carry +them the rest of the way on landing. But the very first night ashore +some wicked person had stolen it, so there was nothing for it but to +come on, on foot. It was really no very great distance, not more than +eight to ten miles from the seaport, but they were strangers in a +strange land, almost afraid to ask their way, and they had probably +wandered astray. This was their pitiful story. + +But already Michael's kindness had revived them, and they stood up, +eager to get to the only home they had now a chance of. The cousins +looked at each other. What was in store for the poor things? Their +grandmother, a loving soul, would welcome them no doubt, and share with +them all she had. But that "all" was really nothing. She was feeble and +crippled with rheumatism. But for old Peter and his friend Ysenda, she +would before this have risked dying of starvation. + +However--"Cheer up," said Michael, as he hoisted little Mattie on to his +shoulder, Paul loading himself with the bundles. "Cheer up. We'll be at +the good dame's in no time. Giles," he went on, for Hodge was looking +sulky and disapproving, "Giles, you might do worse than help the boy--or +at least bring a bundle of my faggots and come with us. Martha's fire +will be none too big." + +Giles started forward, half shamed into doing his part--and Hodge, who +was, after all, more stupid than bad-hearted, drew out of his pocket two +small copper coins, which he handed to Paul. + +"Tell your granny," he said, "that's to help to get you some milk for +breakfast from the farm near by her cottage." + +Paul smiled gratefully and thanked him. + +Then they set off--Hodge walking with them a part of the way, till he +reached the turning to his own home. + +The poor dame was still up--sitting by the tiny fire in her kitchen, +grudging to lose any of its welcome warmth, when Michael--leaving the +others at the door--stepped in warily with a cheerful "good evening," so +as not to terrify the lonely old woman. + +Mingled indeed were her feelings, as you can imagine. Loving delight as +she clasped the little travellers in her trembling arms, though even in +that first moment the dire misgiving seized her as to how they were to +be fed and clothed! So pathetic are often the greatest joys of the very +poor. + +But the children for the moment had no such fears. + +"Oh granny, granny," cried the little girl, "it is so sweet, so lovely +to have found you," and Paul turned away to hide the tears which he +thought himself too big a boy to give way to. + +They were near Michael's own eyes, and even Giles had a lump in his +throat as he set to work to build up the fire with the bundle of his +cousin's faggots. + +The dame looked about her anxiously. + +"My darlings, you must be hungry," she was beginning, but the little +new-comers interrupted her. + +"No, no," they said, with the quick thoughtfulness of the children of +their class, "this kind man," pointing to Michael, "gave us supper at +his house. We only want to go to bed, and it will be so beautiful to +wake in the morning and to find we are with our own granny." + +"And I have money to get some more bread and milk for breakfast," added +Paul, jingling the two coppers in his pocket, "so that will be all +right." + +With the help of the two young men, a bed was soon made up for the boy +on the old kitchen settle, as there was room for little Mattie beside +the dame. Everything in the cottage was scrupulously clean, for to have +had it otherwise would have broken Dame Martha's heart, and by the handy +way that the children moved about, tired though they were, she was +pleased to see that they had been well and carefully brought up. So for +the moment she tried to dismiss her anxiety. + +But when the cousins said good-night and set off on their way home +Michael's heart felt heavy for the little family. + +"Good Lord!" he murmured, "if only I were rich!" + +"What then?" asked Giles. "You'd be for taking the lot of them on your +shoulders, I suppose. Well, as things are, you can't do so. Of course +they must all go to the workhouse, though to-night it would have been +cruel to hint at such a thing." + +Michael said nothing, but he had some hope that this might be avoided. + +That very day--I have said it was a Saturday--a long conversation had +taken place at old Peter's between himself and his favourite Ysenda. + +She had looked in as she often did, and was startled and distressed to +find him far from well. + +"Yes," he said, in answer to her kindly enquiries, "yes, my dear young +friend, I am failing fast. You must not grieve about it--the thought of +dying is very familiar to me and far from unwelcome. But there is +something I wish to consult you about. You know my secret. You know the +only legacy I can leave behind me. It is as to this that I want to know +your opinion, for you have a good sound judgment as well as a kind +heart. To me myself the greatest pleasure would be to bequeath my magic +gift to _you_, my dear Ysenda." + +But the girl, as he had in his heart expected, shook her head. + +"No, dear Peter," she replied. "There are those nearer to you than I, +and more in need of help. Besides--I know the secret; the fulfilling its +conditions would therefore be no test of my deserving its benefits. Nor +do I stand in want of them. No--dear friend--if, as you kindly say, you +consider my advice worth attending to, I would propose this. Bequeath +the enchanted table to whichever of your three nephews discovers the +inner spell which governs it. In this there will be nothing unfair. You +can teach them the magic words, and then inform them that the further +secret must be sought and found by themselves--or by himself. Hodge is +the eldest--let him have the first trial, then Giles, and lastly +Michael." + +"And if--supposing Hodge succeeds?" said Peter with a rather curious +enquiry in his tone. + +Ysenda's face flushed a little. + +"Well then, it would be all right. He would continue to use his power as +it should be used." + +"And Giles?" + +"In the same way, of course," she replied. + +"But--if both failed, and Mike came to have his try at it?" + +Ysenda raised her pretty head with a gesture of pride. + +"_Then_," she replied, "it would most certainly be all right. As to +_Michael's_ good heart I have no misgiving whatever. Quite independently +of the spell, no sooner would he have it in his power to show kindness +to any one in need of it than he would be eager to do so." + +"I agree with you," said her old friend; and to himself he added, "I +suspected as much. Ah well, they are worthy of each other, and I trust +that all will prosper with them." + +Then after a moment's silence he went on again: + +"I will do as you advise, my child. To-morrow I will announce my +intention, and take the three into my confidence as far as is necessary. +Then when my own summons comes I shall feel that I have acted for the +best--fairly by all, though my own wishes are with that good young +fellow, Michael." + +Ysenda rose to go. + +"You will come again soon?" said the old man. "The sands are running out +quickly, I feel, and I am not likely to be mistaken." + +"Dear Peter," whispered the young girl, and the tears rose to her eyes. + +"Bless you, my child," laying his hand on her shoulder. Then just as she +was turning away, a curious, listening expression crept over his face. +"Yes, yes," he murmured, as if in reply to some inaudible voice, "yes." + +Ysenda felt a little frightened, and of this Peter seemed at once aware. +He patted her again. + +"Do not be alarmed," he said, with a smile. "I have no dealings with the +black arts. But certain things are communicated to me in ways that I +must not reveal. And just now--I am glad you were still here. Trouble, +or rather perplexity--for the trouble is mingled with joy--is at hand +for our good old friend Dame Martha. Will you go to see her to-morrow, +Ysenda, and learn about it?" + +"I was already intending to enquire how she is," said the girl. "I will +certainly not fail to see her, and I will do all I can to help her, you +may be sure." + +"Of that I have no doubt," said Peter. "Good-night, my child." + +Many things passed through Ysenda's mind as she walked slowly home. She +had no mother, and her father, though devoted to her, his only child, +was a hard man. He thought her fanciful and romantic, as she had on +several occasions refused to marry to please him. For his great idea was +that her husband should be a wealthy man. + +"He must at least show on his side as handsome a sum as will be the +dowry I give you," he had often repeated. But so far, none of the +suitors that in this respect were approved of by the father had found +favour in his daughter's eyes, so that he began to think the girl had +determined against marrying at all, little suspecting the love that had +already crept into her sweet heart. + +"Ah, well," he thought to himself, "better live single than make a poor +choice of some pauper who would squander her fortune, though for that +matter, unless I look to it, she will be for giving it all away in +charity once the breath's out of my body. Ysenda is too 'giving' by +half." + +And with this idea, rich though he was, the father kept the girl but +slenderly supplied with money. She had to account to him for every +farthing, and only by denying herself many little things she had +naturally a right to expect, was she able to help her poorer neighbours. +And without old Peter's contributions, though in cash he had not much to +give, still less would it have been possible for her to assist those in +need. + +"How I shall miss him!" she said to herself. "For some reasons I could +wish he had bequeathed the magic table to me--to what advantage I could +have used it! But it would not have been fair or right. Oh if only +Michael wins it! Somehow----" and vague hopes began to flutter in her +heart, for that the young fellow--no less than the others, in their own +way--adored her, she could not doubt. "It might make things different," +she thought. But then she resolutely put the idea away. "No, no, I must +not dwell on it. It is almost as if I were looking forward to dear old +Peter's death. And oh, by the bye, I must not forget to go to see old +Martha Swann to-morrow. I wonder what new trouble has befallen +her--trouble mingled with joy, he said, and of course _I_ know, as no +one else knows, that Peter is in touch with the good people; the really +good fairies, they must be, for he would have no dealings with +mischievous, spiteful imps." + +Now I must tell you what happened the next day--the eventful Sunday on +which the old man felt that the time had come for his strange secret to +be revealed to his three godsons. + +They were there in good time as usual, waiting outside for the opening +of the door and their host's appearing. + +Hodge, as was his way, was very hungry and in a hurry to set to work at +the excellent dinner which no doubt awaited them. Giles too agreed with +him that under the circumstances time passed far too slowly. Michael, +who of the three had every reason for more than ordinary hunger, as he +had not tasted food since his early supper the day before, his +breakfast, as you will remember, having been otherwise disposed of--poor +Michael said nothing. His thoughts were running on the two little waifs +that he had escorted to their grandmother, and not only on them and Dame +Martha, but on kind Ysenda. For, coming out of church, she had whispered +to him that she feared their old friend was in trouble. "I am going to +her at once," she said, and ran off before the young man had time to +reply. + +"How did she know?" Michael wondered. "Perhaps through Uncle Peter's +queer ways. However, she'll look after the poor things for a day or two, +though it isn't very much that even Ysenda, bless her, can do, rich +though her father is," for the farmer's peculiarities were no secret. + +So Michael had plenty to think of, as well as of being hungry, while +standing with his cousins outside the old man's cottage. + +And after all, they were kept waiting a shorter time than usual. It +still wanted some minutes to the half-hour after noon when the door +opened and their uncle beckoned to them to enter. + +Even as they did so, they felt that things were not quite the same as on +former occasions. To begin with, the dinner was not ready; far from it, +the table was not even to be seen! + +Hodge's face fell, so did Giles's, as the same misgiving seized them. + +"Supposing he's not going to give us any dinner at all," they thought. +"Maybe he's been too feeble to see to it." + +For a glance showed them that their host had sadly changed, even in a +week. His face was as white as his hair, and as he sank into his old +armchair he almost looked as if he was going to faint. Michael sprang +forward. + +"Dear uncle," he cried, and you may be sure that the fear of losing his +dinner had no place in his thoughts, "dear uncle, you are +ill--suffering. Will you let me run for the doctor?" + +But even as the young man spoke, a little colour returned to Peter's +cheeks and he smiled. + +"No, no, my boy," he said, and his voice was very gentle, "no need for +doctors. I can manage for myself. It was just a turn, but I shall be +better again now for a bit, though not for long. I have been anxious to +see you all to-day, for I misdoubt me if it is not the last time----" +Michael gave a little exclamation of distress, and the other two looked +very grave. "I am very old, you know, my dear nephews, and tired. I +shall be glad to rest. But first I have something to tell you. I have no +money to leave behind me, and but few little possessions, but I have a +secret, and the time has now come for me to reveal it to you three, my +only living relations." + +He stopped for a moment and drank a little water, which seemed to revive +him. + +"The country-folk, you know, call me a wizard," he went on. +"Well--well--it does me no harm! I have learnt some strange things--I +have wandered some little way into regions where few mortals are allowed +to tread; I have had some dealings with beings of another kind of life +than ours; in some ways I have been of use to the 'good people,' as they +are called, and they to me. But such knowledge as I have acquired I can +truly declare I have only used for the advantage of my fellows. My +learning of this sort will pass away with me--I can leave behind me none +of my secrets save one, and this--this spell I am now about to reveal to +you three." + +He stopped again. The eyes of the young men were fixed upon him in +breathless eagerness. What were they about to hear? But some instinct +kept them all silent. Time enough for thanks, thought Hodge and Giles, +when they knew what there was to thank for. And as for Michael, his +curiosity was kept back by the real sorrow he felt at the idea of the +old man's approaching death. + +Peter went on again: + +"As children," he said, "I daresay you heard many of the old fairy tales +handed down for generations--tales to be found in one shape or another +all the world over, it seems to me. So it often struck me that for some +of them, at least, there must be a foundation of truth at bottom, and I +set myself to use my little knowledge of these matters to discover it. I +failed in several cases--I was wanting in certain qualifications. But as +to one so-called legend I succeeded. Do you remember the old tale of the +grateful gnome who taught his human benefactor how to make sure of a +good dinner, by using a certain spell?" + +Hodge pricked up his ears at the word "dinner." So did Giles, but though +they had some vague memory of the well-known story, they were half +afraid to say so, for fear of Peter's cross-questioning them. But +Michael answered at once, for he had always loved fairy stories, that +he remembered the one of the magic table quite distinctly. + +"Well, then," said the old man, "I am going to show you that it was +true, for the spell by which the feast was made to appear still exists. +Now, all of you, listen carefully to my words. I may repeat them thrice, +which will enable you to learn them perfectly, but after the third time +you must trust to your memory." + +Then sitting up erect on his chair, he recited, slowly and distinctly +thrice, as he had said, these words: + + "Little table, fair to see, + Magic bell now summons thee. + Spread with viands good to taste, + Fairy table, prithee haste!" + +and after a moment's silence, when he had ended the incantation, he drew +out a tiny silver bell--a mere toy of a thing--and rang it sharply. + +Then there reached the ears of the astonished guests a whirring sound as +if of invisible wheels revolving quickly. It was faint at first, but +gradually seemed to come nearer, or rather, I should say, to rise +upwards. It was of course the same sound which Michael had heard that +Sunday, when he had unwittingly approached too near the cottage before +the appointed time. And suddenly, with a sort of swing as of well-oiled +doors opening swiftly, the flooring drew apart, and before the watchers +could see how or whence it came, there stood in its accustomed place, in +the centre of the kitchen, the table they all knew so well, bearing on +its snow-white cover the tempting savoury dishes, neatly arranged and +steaming hot. Enough truly, so tempting did they look, so excellently +did they smell, to make even the least greedily disposed person's mouth +water. + +For a minute or two the young men were too astounded to speak. Then +Peter smiled. + +"Do not look so startled," he said reassuringly. "The dinner is what you +have enjoyed many and many a time, and it has been sent in the same way. +Have no misgivings. Draw round it, and make a hearty meal." + +They did so with many murmurs of surprise and admiration; and for once, +perhaps, it may be of interest to know of what the dinner consisted. At +one end was a roast capon, cooked to perfection, at the other a ham, of +so delicate a colour and flavour that it must surely have belonged to a +fairy pig! Then there were potatoes, so white and floury that I feel +convinced they must have been whisked over from Ireland, and delicious +green sprouts of the kind that I, as a child, and I daresay many other +children with me, used always to call "fairy cabbages," so exactly like +miniatures of the large ordinary kind are they. And as side dishes, +which apparently were still in fashion in the land of the gnomes or +brownies, stood fruit pies whose pastry melted in your mouth, so light +and flaky was it. And last, not least, a crystal bowl filled with cream, +which surely must have come from Devon or Cornwall, or the places which +match those in fairyland! + +And in spite of their wonder and astonishment the three guests did +justice to the feast, I assure you, for they were all very hungry. + +Their host watched them with satisfaction, though eating but little +himself. And when they had finished and turned to him, as was their +custom, to thank him for their excellent repast, he smiled kindly. + +"Now," he said, "you shall see the end of the matter." + +He rang the bell, and in a moment or two the whirring noise was heard, +the floor gently opened and the table descended, then the aperture +closed and all was as it had been when the three entered the cottage. +And again they gazed in amazement, for on former occasions they had +bidden Peter good-bye and taken leave, with the table and the remains of +the meal still standing in the kitchen. + +"Yes," said the old man. "I do not wonder at your surprise. And now I +must explain further. It is in my power to bequeath my secret to one of +you. In fact I have told a part of the spell to you all. But a part +only. There is a condition attached to its acting successfully which I +cannot and must not tell you. The very fact of my doing so would destroy +the whole. You shall each have a fair chance. You, Hodge, as the eldest +must have the first. Here is the magic bell," and he handed him the +pretty toy as he spoke. "Keep it safely, and use it as you have seen me +do, after repeating the verse I have taught you. Next Sunday at the same +hour; that is the appointed time. But--remember there is a condition +which you must fulfil; consider the matter well in your own mind; ponder +it during the next few days. If you succeed, well and good; if not, you +must pass on the bell to Giles, that he may have his chance. And if he +fails, it will be for Michael. There must be no disputes about it--to do +you justice I do not fear that there will be, for I have watched you +all, and have been pleased to see that you lived in amity, without +jealousy or ill-will. And I have treated you all with perfect fairness." + +"You have indeed," said all the three together, adding, "and we shall +not forget it. Fair play's a jewel." + +"But," said Michael anxiously, "you speak of next Sunday, dear uncle. +May we not meet here again as usual while you are still with us?" + +The old man laid his withered hand kindly on the young fellow's +shoulder. + +"I shall not be here next Sunday, my boy," he said, "and for this you +must not grieve. Now farewell to you all." + +And realising that he wished to be alone, they wrung his hand and went +quietly away. + +And before the sun sank on the following evening the old man had gone, +as he had predicted. + +The three young men all felt saddened by their loss--Michael especially, +the more so when he saw Ysenda dissolved in tears, at the simple little +funeral. How he longed to have a right to comfort her! + +Hodge and Giles, though not without good feeling and gratitude to their +old uncle, were too excited at the prospect of trying to benefit by his +strange legacy, to give very much thought to mourning him. + +"It's my turn first," said Hodge, "and I mean to succeed. But I'm not +going to talk about it. Just you, Giles, and you, Mike, leave me alone. +I have my own ideas." + +"All right," said Giles, "I'm not going to meddle." + +"And as for me," said Michael, "I've really scarce given the matter a +thought." + +Both noticed, however, that Hodge said nothing about their joining him +on Sunday at the usual hour, as they had naturally expected. The loss of +the one really good meal they had till now been sure of, was of +consequence to them, though they were not greedy. To Mike, just at +present, it mattered the most, for the poor fellow was denying himself +in every way he could, so as to help Dame Martha with her grandchildren. +Ysenda was doing her utmost, but just now her father was in a far from +amiable humour, as she had again refused to accept a wealthy suitor, and +to punish her the farmer was doling out even less money than his wont. +So several people whom this little story concerns were in rather low +spirits--Paul and Mattie less so than their elders, for though it was +all their grandmother could do to give them the plainest of food and by +no means very much of that, her love made up for her poverty, and they +were at an age when hopefulness is easy. + +Well--the days passed till came the Sunday on which Hodge was to try the +working of the spell. He was up with the dawn, and instead of going to +church as usual, spent the morning in scrubbing and scouring, till his +kitchen shone like a new pin. For this was the idea that had come to him +as the condition of success. Perfect cleanness! Peter's cottage had +always been a marvel of this; it was whispered that the brownies or some +mysterious beings of the kind acted as his housemaids, and perhaps it +was so, for feeble and stiff as he was, it seemed impossible that he +himself could have kept the boards so spotless, the stove so polished, +the few pots and pans, which were of antique copper, so shining. And for +all we know, the saying was a true one. + +Now Hodge was naturally a bit lazy, and his house by no means as well +cared for as it might have been, and knowing this, it is scarcely to be +wondered at that he hit upon this solution of the riddle. But he was not +of course absolutely certain that it was correct, and for this reason, +regardless of the probable disappointment to his companions, he let them +understand that he did not expect them to be his guests. + +"Another time I may invite them," he said to himself, "but best not +begin by making a rule of it. Besides, if I fail I don't want them to +sit here laughing at me. Not that there's much fear. The good people +can't but be pleased with the way I've scrubbed and tidied. And I don't +object to dining alone. I feel as if I could eat a whole capon to +myself, not to speak of the other toothsome things! And after dinner +I'll be glad of a rest, for working as hard as I've been doing, makes +one ache." + +He tidied up himself as well as his room, and then sat down to wait, the +little bell in his hand. Twelve o'clock, a quarter past, then the +half-hour, and at the moment, Hodge, having locked the door and closed +the shutters for fear of intrusion or interruption, began solemnly to +recite the incantation, which he had got well by heart, and as he +uttered the last words "prithee haste" he lifted the silver toy and rang +it vigorously, then sat listening with intensity. + +For a moment or two he fancied he heard the whirring sound drawing +near, but no--it was the buzzing in his head from his nervousness, for, +stolid as he was, he was strung up with mingled hopes and fears. He rang +again--no result; again he repeated the lines, half hoping he had not +been quite accurate. No--they were as he had written them down and as he +had compared them with the copies taken by his cousins. All was correct. +But--nothing happened! And Hodge, slow and unemotional though he was, +felt ready to shed tears! + +Then he remembered that he was very hungry, and there was nothing but a +crust of dry bread and a scrap of cheese in the house, and on Sundays +there was no means of getting anything else. He had to be content, +therefore, and to make the best of his scanty fare, and then he lay down +on his bed and went to sleep and slept till it was dark, consoling +himself with the thought that as he had failed there was not much chance +of either of the others succeeding, and when he awoke, being on the +whole a good-natured sort of fellow, he put his pride in his pocket and +set off for Giles's, inspired partly, I dare say, by the hope of getting +something to eat! + +He found his two cousins supping together. Their fare was not luxurious +nor abundant, but as he handed the bell to Giles and they saw his +downcast face they at once understood the state of things and invited +him to join them. He was glad enough to do so, and told them his story. + +"And now, Giles," he ended, "it's your turn. Though what you can do to +please the good people more than I did, I can't think." + +"I'll tell you where you went wrong," said Giles. "You should have +invited us too! There's something in numbers, you know--especially in +the number three. And we've always been together at the dinner. Anyway, +I now ask you two to be here next Sunday at the usual time to see me try +my luck." + +"Thank you," said Hodge rather sheepishly. + +"Thank you," repeated Michael half absently, for his thoughts were +running on other things. Ysenda's face had looked very sad in church +that morning, and he fancied that Dame Martha and her charges were +growing thinner and paler steadily. + +"I'm certain they haven't enough to eat," he thought. "Maybe Giles will +help a bit, if he succeeds," but in his heart he doubted if either Giles +or he himself would fare better than Hodge had done. + +"Yet," he said to himself, "Uncle Peter wasn't the sort to play a trick +on us. And we saw the magic with our own eyes! But I scarce dare hope +that we'll find the secret." + +Sunday--the second Sunday--arrived in due time, and the three cousins +met as arranged at Giles's cottage. Hodge was feeling of two minds. In +one way he did not want Giles to succeed when he had failed; on the +other hand, he greatly missed the excellent weekly dinner, and said to +himself that after all it would be better to enjoy it at his cousin's +than not to get it at all. + +Giles was awaiting them at his door, the little bell in his hand. + +"Come along in," he said. "Uncle Peter used to keep his guests waiting +outside till it was all ready, but as we all saw the whole of it that +last day, I don't see that I need start it all alone. It makes one a bit +shaky and nervous, you see." + +So Hodge and Mike, by no means unwillingly, followed him into the +kitchen. Hodge was as usual very hungry, and again rather excited in +hopes of a good dinner. Michael seemed depressed. He didn't care whether +he was hungry or not; he was far from sanguine as to success for either +Giles or himself; he missed his old uncle, and was rather in low +spirits all round. Still of course he had no thought of refusing to take +part in Giles's effort. + +The three seated themselves, leaving the space for the table's hoped-for +appearance. Giles held the bell in his hand, every now and then glancing +at the old clock in the corner, of which he was the happy possessor. + +"It doesn't keep such very good time," he said in a low voice, "but I +set it right this morning, so it can't be more than a moment or two +slow." + +And then they waited till the long hand approached and slightly passed +the twenty-nine minutes to the fateful half-hour. + +Giles began to recite the charm, the two others listening. He said it +quite correctly, then slowly raising the bell he rang it clearly. Utter +silence. Then--yes--the first whirring was heard, gradually growing +louder as it went on, till with the same sort of spring or swing the +floor opened and up came the table, the mysterious space closing again +at once. + +"Hurrah!" exclaimed Giles, starting up, and even Michael's heart beat +faster with excitement. But Hodge, whose one thought was his dinner, +Hodge's red face grew paler and his expression darkened. + +"Not so fast," he said; "not much hurrahing about it." And then the +others saw what his greedy eyes had at once perceived. The table was, as +ever, covered with a spotless cloth--three places were laid for, as far +as plates and knives were concerned, but on each lay a small loaf of +black or brown bread and a wedge of cheese. That was all! No end dishes, +no side ones--no centre with fruit--nothing but the plain everyday +luncheon they were used to when at work in the fields, and none too much +of it either, and as Hodge added, muttering, "not even a glass of beer"! + +The three looked at each other. Giles and Mike began to laugh, as much +at Hodge's angry disgust as at the thing itself. + +"You've not hit it off, after all," said Michael to his host. "Still, +anything's better than nothing. I vote that we eat what there is," and +he cut a slice off his loaf. The others--Hodge very gloomily--did the +same and began to eat. The provisions were good of their kind. + +"I wonder what I did wrong, or didn't do right," said Giles. "At worst, +Hodge, I've got on better than you, and next Sunday maybe Michael will +manage best of all. Surely you'll get some hot potatoes at least, Mike?" + +"I don't think I'm going to try at all," said the youngest of the +cousins. + +"It's been a mean sort of lega----" began Hodge. + +But before he finished the word, Michael stopped him. "You mustn't speak +against Uncle Peter," he said. "He did his best for us, of that I'm +sure. The spell was not of his making. He had no power over it. He +taught us all he could. Strikes me we're not _good_ enough to succeed, +somehow. Think what he was! So contented and patient, and so unselfish! +Giving away of the little he had, keeping scarce anything for himself." + +"He was always sure of a good Sunday dinner, anyway," grumbled Hodge. + +"And did he keep even that to himself?" queried Michael. + +By this time the table was cleared of the little it had offered. Giles +stood up and held out the bell. + +"We may as well send it back again," he said, ringing, as he spoke, and +in a few moments the whole had disappeared as they had seen it do that +last Sunday at old Peter's. + +Hodge walked off without speaking. Giles turned to Michael--he was still +holding the little bell. + +"Are you in earnest, Mike," he asked, "about giving up your try? If so, +what's to be done with this?" + +He waved the pretty thing in his hand as he spoke. Strange to say, it +gave out no sound. The cousins looked at it curiously. The queer +incident impressed them afresh, and Michael hesitated in his reply. + +"There is no tricking of us in it," he murmured. Then he turned to +Giles. + +"You may as well give it to me," he said. "I'll think it over and let +you know before next Sunday--and Hodge too, for that matter." + +A new idea had struck him and his face brightened. He would consult +Ysenda and abide by her advice, and in the meantime he carefully hid +away the silver bell. + +For two or three days to come he had no opportunity of meeting the +farmer's pretty daughter. But one evening when he had looked in at Dame +Martha's to see how she and the orphans were getting on, he met Ysenda, +on her way thither. She was carrying a basket with what provisions she +had got leave to bring them. For she was too honest to give away +anything belonging to her father without his permission. She stopped at +once, on seeing Mike, who doffed his hat. + +"Good evening," she said, "I am----" but he interrupted her. "Let me +carry that for you. It is heavy," he began, taking hold of the handle. + +"I could wish it were heavier," she said, with a rather pitiful smile. +"I do what I can for the good dame and those dear children, but it isn't +much." + +"It's more than I do," said Michael regretfully. + +"Don't say that," she replied eagerly. "You give all you have to give. +But what irks me is the knowing I _should_ be able to do all needed for +the poor things, if only--my father----" she stopped short. "How are +they?" she went on again. "You have been there, I make sure?" + +Michael blushed. + +"They're fairly well," he said. "It was only a bundle of fire-wood, and, +and--some windfall apples I found--nothing to speak of. The +boy--Paul--has had a bit of work this week. I spoke to our master for +him, but it's a slack time of year, you see." + +Ysenda nodded. Michael had turned and was retracing his steps with her. +For a moment or two neither spoke. Then suddenly the young man looked +at her, with a grave face. + +"Ysenda," he said, "I want your advice," and he went on hurriedly to +relate to her the experiences of the last two Sundays in his cousins' +cottages. She listened attentively, but somewhat to his perplexity she +seemed in no way surprised or discouraged by his story, for when he +ended by saying, "Don't you think I'd best give it up? It doesn't seem +meant for the like of us. Uncle Peter didn't understand maybe that we're +not the same as him--we're too thick-skulled and dull, and not full of +benevolence and charity as he was. The good people don't care to bestow +their benefits on common rough fellows like us," she replied quietly: + +"No, Michael, I don't agree with you. You've got wrong notions. There's +a condition attached to the spell, which must be discovered by yourself. +Uncle Peter told you this plainly. He said nothing about success +depending on your being very clever, or learned in the ways he was, and +he knew none of you were. He knew the condition was one quite possible +for you to fulfil, but it had to be your own doing. Well--Hodge and +Giles have failed--Giles less than Hodge----" + +"Because he wasn't such a selfish pig as Hodge," Michael interrupted, +"still----" + +Ysenda smiled. + +"Still," she went on, "a meal of bread and cheese isn't worth the +trouble. I agree with you. But I don't see why _you_ should not succeed, +though the others have failed." + +"I don't know why I _should_!" exclaimed he. "I can think of nothing new +to try, and it worries me. I keep dreaming about it night and day, till +I want to throw it over and have done with it. I had a plan----" but he +hesitated. + +"Tell me your plan," she urged. + +"It was this. I thought maybe Hodge and Giles would forget the right +words or miss the time or do something stupid that I could see and guard +against when my turn came, and if so I had planned how I'd invite the +poor dame and her children to the Sunday feast--I'd have just bid them +come a few minutes before the time, the way uncle did with us--and when +I'd got it all ready--steaming hot and all beautiful and tempting, I'd +throw open the door and show them in. My! just to think of it," and his +blue eyes danced with pleasure. + +So did Ysenda's pretty grey ones, but she kept her self-control. + +"Well," she said gently, "why shouldn't you carry out your plan?" + +"Ysenda!" exclaimed Michael, "how could I risk it after the failure of +the others? Supposing I had as good luck as Giles--and how can I be sure +of even that?--a nice feast it would be to invite the poor things to--a +lump of bread and a wedge of cheese! I'd be ashamed past words." + +"You'd have a nice, dainty table, and no doubt, if the good people knew +how many guests you'd asked, they'd lay places for them all, as has +always been the case so far as I understand," said Ysenda. "I'll tell +you what I'd do--I'll help you all I can--let's have some simple fare +ready to fall back upon if need be. I'm sure I can manage a joint of +cold meat and some potatoes, which you can roast in readiness. Then when +you invite Dame Martha and the children just say it's really to take +'pot-luck' with you, so they won't expect over much." + +Michael's face brightened. + +"Thank you, Ysenda," he said, "thank you a thousand times. You've +cheered me greatly, and made me think I'd be a coward not to take my +chance. So I'll do as you say. Maybe I can get some vegetables or fruit +to help out the dinner. And I'll just invite them in an off-hand sort of +way, as you advise. A case of 'pot-luck' it certainly will be, if there +never was one before!" and he laughed quite heartily. + +That very evening he invited the dame and her grandchildren, and the +first time he met Hodge and Giles he told them of these expected guests. +Hodge was rather scornful about it, but Giles was more cheery. + +"There's something in numbers," he maintained, "and three's a lucky one. +You're the third to try, and you've invited three, besides us three +ourselves. And--" he added, slapping his cousin on the shoulder as he +spoke--"why yes, Mike, old fellow, fate's smiling on you and no mistake! +Sunday's the third of the month, for sure!" + +Michael's spirits rose still higher. + +"Thank you, Giles," he said. "Well, we'll know before long. And you two +mustn't fail me. If we don't meet at church, I'll depend on you soon +after twelve o'clock on Sunday. Don't be late." + +"No fear," said Giles, and Hodge, who was influenced by the others' +hopefulness, felt his mouth already watering in anticipation of the +excellent fare, echoed "no fear." + +And some quarter of an hour or so before the usual time the three were +settled in their places, Mike, bell in hand, all three pair of eyes +glancing every minute or so at the clock. Now and then Michael's strayed +to the cupboard in the corner, with a comfortable expression, for there, +thanks to Ysenda and his own precautions, there was a good piece of meat +and a few other odds and ends, sufficient for a plain though not very +choice or ample meal. + +At last--and how very slowly do the hands of a clock seem to move, if +one is watching them!--at last the long needle approached the figure +"six" at the bottom of the dial. Mike glanced at his companions. + +"Now for it," he said, and for the life of him he could not prevent his +voice shaking a little. "Here goes," and then pulling himself together +he repeated the rhyme of incantation in a firm clear voice: + + "Little table, fair to see, + Magic bell now summons thee. + Spread with viands good to taste, + Fairy table, prithee haste!" + +and after a moment's pause he lifted the silver toy and rang it +cheerily. + +Then--utter silence, save for Michael's drawing a deep breath or +two--and--oh, joy! the whirring sounds began to be heard--no mistake +about it, as they grew louder and nearer. Giles chuckled as he +whispered, "Some good honest bread and cheese, hey, Mike?" + +But he laughs best who wins! + +Michael made no reply. In another moment came the soft swing of the +invisible hinges--the floor opened, and up came the table. You could +almost have fancied that it or its burdens were laughing with pleasure, +for there was a merry clatter among the pretty china plates and +dishes--so closely were they packed, so many were they, though as the +whole finally emerged and settled down as it were, the table seemed to +grow longer, till there was ample space for its six guests. Then the +floor closed, and all was quiet. + +Not so the three cousins. + +"Hurrah in good earnest this time," cried Giles. + +"Hush, my good fellow," said Michael, though his own face was by this +time one broad smile "they'll have come, I'm sure. I must fetch them +in," and he turned towards the door. + +"Stay a moment," interrupted Hodge, who by this time was in high +spirits, busily lifting the covers and examining the viands, "stay, till +I tell you what there is for dinner. The giver of the feast should know +the fare." + +"Well, then," said Michael, "tell me quickly." + +"There's a couple of ducks," replied Hodge, "stuffed, and roasted to a +turn. How good they smell! And apple sauce and mashed potatoes, and a +plum-pudding--to be sure Christmas is not so very far off now--and a +whole pile of gingerbread snaps with whipped cream, and oranges galore, +for dessert. My word, but the brownies keep first-rate cooks and +caterers." + +Michael had opened the door before his hungry friend had left off +speaking, but he heard Hodge calling after him, "Stop, stop, I've +forgotten the pork pie. Oh, my goodness, such a beauty!" + +In another moment Michael had seized Dame Martha by the hand and was +leading her into the cottage, followed by Paul and Mattie, looking very +neat and clean in spite of their poor clothes, and in not a little +excitement at this visit to the kind young man who had been their first +friend in this strange land. + +"I hope you've not been waiting long," said Mike. + +"Oh no, thank you," the dame replied. "Just a very few minutes. We heard +the church clock strike the half-hour as we drew near." + +The door was wide open. Hodge and Giles greeted the new-comers heartily, +Hodge adding that they'd better set to at once, before the dishes got +cold. But though Dame Martha had very good manners by nature and even by +habit, for in her better days she had been a much-respected upper +servant in an excellent family, she could not restrain an exclamation of +the greatest astonishment when she caught sight of the wonderful display +of good things, and perceived their appetising odour. + +"My dear boy--Michael!" she cried. "What extravagance is this? And you +said it would be just a simple meal--'pot-luck' you called it, if I +remember right?" + +"And pot-luck it is," he replied, laughing. "There's no reason that I +know of why pot-luck shouldn't be good fare, as I hope you will find our +dinner to be." + +There is no need to tell you how the feast was enjoyed. To begin with, +it was flavoured not only with the "best sauce" of the old +proverb--hunger--but also with the excellent additions of friendliness +and gratitude and goodwill, and besides these even, there was a +mysterious feeling of graciousness and prettiness over it all, which I +am inclined to think must have been wafted with the viands from +fairyland itself. + +Never had the children had such a treat, and being modest and unselfish +and far from greedy they enjoyed it all the more, nor was there any +necessity for their grandmother to warn them not to eat too much. + +Every one had enough--indeed Hodge's appetite seemed equal to that of +two ordinary people--but yet when all had replied, "No thank you, +nothing more," to Michael's hospitable offers, the dishes looked by no +means empty, and though he made the children carry off a couple of +oranges each, for a little Sunday treat at home, the pile of fruit +scarcely appeared to have been touched. The thought did cross Michael's +head that he wished he could keep the remains of the feast in his +larder. But "No," he decided, "it would be greedy and might displease +the fairies." + +So when the dame and her grandchildren, with many and many expressions +of gratitude, took their leave--though, by the bye, I must not forget to +tell you that what brought the poor things' pleasure to the _highest_ +height was Michael's telling them that he would expect them at the same +hour and in the same way the following Sunday, "and every Sunday, so +long as my pot-luck continues to suit you," he added--well then, as soon +as the three had left he re-entered the cottage with his cousins and +carefully closing the door, rang the fairy bell for the invisible +attendants to remove the table. + +It disappeared as it had come, obediently to his summons. Then Hodge and +Giles turned to him. + +"The luck's with you, Mike, no doubt about it," they said, but without +any ill-will, it must be allowed. + +"Let's count it as belonging to us all," said hospitable Michael. "It +shall be a fixed rule that you two dine with me every Sunday, same as +to-day. And as long as the good people favour us as they've done this +time, the least _we_ can do is to let those who are less well off than +we, share in our prosperity. I've a feeling that it's what old Uncle +Peter would wish." + +"That's why you mean to have the dame and her boy and girl every +Sunday?" said Hodge. "Well, for my part I wouldn't take upon me to +object. They're nice-mannered children, and the dame's an old friend. +And there was enough and to spare." + +Giles was looking very thoughtful. + +"Yes, indeed," he exclaimed. "It's the right thing to do, and, as you +say, it's following after our kind old godfather. I say, Mike," he went +on, "maybe--I shouldn't be very surprised if that's how you've hit the +nail on the head--eh, what do you think of that?" + +Michael stared. Such an idea had never occurred to him, and indeed he +scarcely understood what Giles meant. He thought of it afterwards, +however. + +Then his cousins left him, and he began to wish he could manage to see +Ysenda to tell her the good news. + +"She'll be as pleased as I am myself," he thought, "as pleased as if the +good luck had been her own. And after all, it's thanks to her I +persevered. By the bye, I wonder what I should do with that nice piece +of meat she brought me, to fall back upon in case of need. I shouldn't +keep it--maybe she'd like me to take it to the dame. I'll just have a +look at it." + +He turned to the cupboard--it was a sort of larder with a wired opening +to the fresh air, which he had arranged himself, for he was very +neat-handed. But when he drew back the door, he started with surprise. +He could scarcely believe his eyes, and rubbed them hard to make sure he +was not dreaming! For there, neatly placed on the shelves, was not only +kind Ysenda's gift, but all the remains of the dinner--cold duck, pork +pie, plum-pudding, sauces, vegetables, fruit! almost as tempting a sight +as had been the viands on their first appearance, so daintily were they +all arranged, so clean and bright were the china and glass. + +Michael really laughed with pleasure. + +"If only I could tell Ysenda," he said aloud. + +The opportunity for so doing was coming nearer, though he knew it not. + +On their way home Dame Martha and the children met the farmer and his +daughter. Ysenda stopped to speak to them, and her father, who happened +to be in a very good humour, as he had made excellent terms for the sale +of his numerous stacks of hay, accosted the old woman kindly enough, +though he had been one of those who had called her very foolish for +accepting the charge of the penniless orphans. + +"Well, dame," he began, "and how goes the world with you?" and almost +before Ysenda heard the first words of her reply, the young girl +guessed, what indeed she was already sure of, that Michael's trial of +the magic spell had succeeded--so bright and happy looked the dame, so +bursting with joyful excitement were Paul and Mattie. + +"Oh, I am all of a tremble with thankfulness," replied Martha. "Such a +feast as we have had! Never was there a kinder host than young +Michael----" + +"And, and," interrupted the children, forgetting their shyness, "we're +to have dinner with him every Sunday--just fancy that! And see what +we've got to take home for a treat," and they held out the beautiful +oranges. + +"I _am_ pleased----" began Ysenda, but her father interrupted her. + +"Young Michael, did you say," he inquired, turning to the dame, "young +_Michael_! How comes it that he can afford to give feasts? I thought it +was all he could do to keep himself--not to speak of feasting." + +"And a real feast it was," said Martha, "roast ducks, and pies, +and----" + +"Plum-pudding, and these oranges and apples," the children went on. "And +every Sunday, sir, every Sunday it's to be the same--dinner with him." + +"Glad to hear it," said the farmer, rather shortly. + +Then with a nod of farewell, and a sweet smile from his daughter, the +two walked on. + +For a few moments neither spoke. They were near their own home by this +time. Suddenly the farmer exclaimed: + +"Queer business this seems of young Michael's. He's a steady, +hard-working fellow, but none too well-off. Maybe old Peter left him +something after all--unbeknown to any one?" + +He did not exactly ask the question of Ysenda, but he looked at her as +he spoke. He knew how very friendly she had been with the old man. She +smiled, and her pretty eyes lighted up. + +"Maybe," was all she said. + +But an hour or two later, when her father had finished smoking his +Sunday afternoon pipe, he called her. + +"Ysenda," he said,--he was sitting in the porch, for the day was mild +for the time of year,--"Ysenda, I'm thinking about that young +fellow--Michael." + +"Yes, father?" she said questioningly. + +"You know that old Thomas is leaving us." Thomas was the farmer's head +man. "He's getting past work, and he's got some tidy savings put by. He +won't be badly off. I'm not sorry. I'd like some one younger and sharper +about the place, though I'd scarce have found it in my heart to dismiss +him. But he wants to go. I've been casting about for a new man. I wonder +how Michael would do." + +"Was it what you heard this afternoon that's made you think of him?" the +girl asked, straight-forwardly. + +The farmer seemed a little taken aback. + +"Well--not exactly. But you see," he replied, "if so be that old Peter +did leave him something, well then, Peter was a wise man, a very wise +man--it shows he thought highly of the young fellow, and if he was to +come to me instead of Thomas, I'd as lief as not that he had a something +of his own. It would give him a better position over the others, you +see." + +From her father's practical point of view, Ysenda did "see"; and when he +went on to propose that they should stroll round by Michael's cottage +for their evening walk, "just to have a look at things," she made no +objection. + +"We might say we heard of his kindness to the dame, and ask about her +and how she's getting on," added the farmer. + +So Michael, sitting ruminating by the fire, was not a little surprised +when, on opening the door in answer to a knock, he was confronted by the +two visitors. + +"We thought we'd look in to--to congratulate you on your--your kindness +to our old friend and her grandchildren," the farmer began, very +amiably. "We've heard all about it from them, you must know." + +Michael's sunburnt face had grown very red, first with the delight of +seeing Ysenda, and then by the startling word "congratulate." For he +knew that the secret confided to him and his cousins would be of no +value if it were made known to others, so that Peter had trusted to them +to keep it faithfully. + +Ysenda seemed to guess his alarm, and with a smile and a whisper she +reassured him, even before her father had finished speaking. + +"It is all right," she said. "I know you have won"; and later on, she +added, "It is what Peter hoped and wished for." + +So nothing was wanting to Michael's satisfaction. He begged his visitors +to honour him by staying to supper, and when the farmer saw the good +fare so quickly and neatly laid before them, his opinion of Michael, +needless to say, rose still higher, and before he took leave of the +young man he had hinted at the proposal he was thinking of. + +This was the beginning of a happy life for Mike. He became the farmer's +right hand, and before long his son-in-law. Nor in his prosperity did +Michael ever forget his old friends. Never a Sunday passed without his +cousins and his poorer neighbours--Martha and her grandchildren--being +his guests. Never, therefore, did the "good people" fail to respond to +his summons. + +And even before Ysenda became the hostess on these occasions, she felt +that she might reveal to him the secret of the condition which in his +generosity he had unconsciously fulfilled. + +"Peter told me what it was," she said. "The magic feast is only bestowed +on him who invites as his guests those poorer than himself. But had you +known this, the charm would have been lost. Your motive was pure +kindness--free from all selfishness, therefore you succeeded where +Hodge and even Giles, good-natured though he is, failed!" + +[Illustration: "Your motive was pure kindness--free from all +selfishness, therefore you succeeded."] + +"All the same, sweetheart," said Michael, "I feel that I owe my happy +fortune to _you_, as well as to dear old Peter and to the 'good people' +themselves. May I always have a grateful heart and remember those whose +lives are less favoured than mine." + + + + +The Weather Maiden + + +Once upon a time--it does not matter if it was a long ago "once," or not +a long ago one; it does not matter what country it was in, whether far +off or near at hand--it was just a "once upon a time," somewhere and +somewhen--a little girl sat crying quietly but very sadly, all by +herself in a queer room which I will describe. But first I must tell you +that she was not crying from temper, or from having been naughty and now +being sorry, no, she was just crying because she was lonely and unloved +and in a sense friendless. And it had not always been so with her. Some +years ago--to her they seemed many, for she was only twelve, but in +reality they were but few--she had had kind parents, father and mother +both, who loved their only child very dearly, though she was not a very +pretty or "taking" little girl. She was small for her age and more +thoughtful than clever or amusing. And now that the dear ones whom she +belonged to were gone, and her only home as an orphan, and a poor +orphan, was with cousins, who, though good worthy people, had adopted +her out of duty and did not understand the shy silent child, or care to +do so, it is not to be wondered at that she grew shyer and silenter and +often seemed what she was really far from being, stupid and slow and +even sullen. + +Her new home--though "new" it no longer was to her, for it was now +nearly four years since Farmer Mac, as we will call him, had brought her +back with him from the desolate house where she had been so happy and +cared for since her birth--this new home was a large rambling old +farm-house. A busy beehive of a place, cheerful enough to its owners and +their sons, who were strong and active and hard-working from morning to +night, but to Merran a sort of incessant worry and bustle, of loud +voices and hurrying steps and noisy laughter, or noisier scolding, not +really as cross or angry as it sounded, but startling to her sensitive +nerves and childish timidity. So she grew duller and slower and thinner +and whiter, till at last those about her began to say she was in a +"dwine," and "maybe all for the best if so it were, for--" and at this, +voices were lowered--"it's plain to see the child's 'not all there.'" + +And her aunt, as she had been told to call the farmer's wife, a strong +hearty woman, who had done and meant to do her best for the little +maiden, grew tired of worrying about her, and trying to feed her up and +turn her into the sort of girl a daughter of her own would have been. +Merran did her no credit, and the mixture of shame and pity Dame Mac +came to feel about her gradually grew into a kind of constant, +half-repressed irritation. She made her work, which of course was right, +the child would have pined and "dwined" still more had she been left +alone to do nothing but creep about and dream in corners, but the worst +of it was that what Merran did, or tried to do, seldom pleased her aunt. +As often as not, after telling her to sweep or dust, the dame would +snatch the cloths or brush out of her hand, crying that she'd rather do +it all herself than see the girl's feckless ways of going about the +work. + +This had happened the day that this story begins. Merran had had an even +worse scolding than usual, and though she set her face hard and said not +a word in self-defence, when she got upstairs to the hiding-place where +first we see her, she let her tears burst out and sobbed and wept to her +heart's content. + +There was a special reason for her aunt's vexation with her that +morning. Merran had had a soaking in the rain the day before, when she +had gone out without an umbrella and with the clean, freshly starched +and ironed frock on, which should have lasted her the whole week, as +yesterday had been Monday. Now it was not only limp and draggled but on +one side a mass of mud, for in her hurry to get home the child had +slipped in the lane, always a rather watery one from the overhanging +trees and want of sun, and fallen at full length, so of course there was +nothing for it but to have the unlucky garment returned to the +wash-house six days before it was due there, and as a punishment Merran +was now arrayed in an old stuff skirt, too short for her, which she +particularly disliked, and a kind of loose jacket or bed-gown once her +aunt's, in which, it must be allowed, she did look rather a figure of +fun, something like a very shabby Dutch doll. + +"And Dirk will see me like this," she said to herself, "after the long +time he's been away. He will think me so ugly and untidy, and he's the +only person in the world who cares for me at all," and at these +thoughts her sobs redoubled. + +Dirk was the youngest of the farmer's five sons, the youngest but by no +means the favourite or the spoilt one, as a youngest is generally +supposed to be. He was not as strong or fine a fellow as his brothers; +indeed as a baby he had been so puny and delicate that his mother was +half ashamed to let him be seen for fear of its being said or hinted +that he was a changeling. There was some reason for this, as the first +few months of his life had been spent in much wailing and crying, poor +little chap. And even when he got over this stage and grew into boyhood, +his position in the family was rather a Cinderella-like one. Yet to +those who took the trouble to notice and encourage him, he quickly +showed himself to be a sweet-tempered, cheerful and intelligent child. +So by degrees things had improved for him, and now when he was expected +home from a long sea-voyage on which he had been sent to strengthen him +after growing too fast, his relations were ready to welcome him back +with heartiness. + +He was four years older than Merran, so when she first came to the farm +he was only a boy of eleven or twelve, sorry for the orphan, and in his +awkward way very kind to her. So naturally she turned to him +gratefully. But now he had been absent so long that she felt shy at the +thought of meeting him again. + +"He'll be big and strong like the others now," she said to herself; +"he'll not think me worth speaking to, looking like a beggar-girl as I +do. Oh, oh, I wish I could die! I wish it wasn't wrong to wish I could +die! I wish I could fly away somewhere, quite, quite away. Everybody +dislikes me--even the doll-woman up there in the rain-house seems to be +laughing at me, 'cos I'm so ugly and stupid." + +What she called the "rain-house" was one of those old-fashioned toy +barometers, or weather-tellers, now so seldom seen. It had been +discarded long ago, as broken and out of order, years before Merran had +come to the farm. She had never seen it except up on a high shelf in the +garret, standing among other old things, broken or chipped or useless, +and yet which Dame Mac, if ever she remembered them, had not the time to +sort or look over. Possibly too, unsentimental as she was, there were +certain objects among the "rubbish" which she had not found it in her +heart to burn or throw away. + +This, the garret, was the queer room which I said I would describe. It +was large, as it covered a good part of the first story of the +farm-house, which was a long, rather low building, and only one end of +this second floor had been plastered and boarded and turned into +habitable rooms. And these, where some of the younger sons and +farm-servants slept, had a separate staircase; the garret was approached +by a ladder-like flight of steps leading to nowhere else. So Merran had +long ago appropriated it as a place of refuge for herself when her head +ached, or her cousins had been teasing her, or her aunt scolding. She +grew to love it dearly. There were queer corners where she could hide; +there were one or two small unglazed storm-windows, in whose eaves the +swallows built, and from which she had a wide view of the country, in +its own way a beautiful part of the world, for though flat and what some +call "tame," it was well wooded--the trees in summer and autumn, even in +early spring, when the first tender greens began to shimmer and sparkle, +were a sight to be seen, so lofty and spreading were they. And not very +far off, though too far to be perceived from the lower windows, was a +silvery glimmer which Merran knew was the sea. + +She knew by heart every inch of the place and everything it contained. +She made up stories to herself about the old pieces of furniture--quaint +chairs short of a leg or two, a tumble-down chest of drawers, with a +marble top, which must, in the far past, have stood in a handsome, +perhaps in a beautiful, room; a cracked and blackened mirror or two; a +pathetic old cradle on rockers, which seemed asking for a baby to nurse. +Merran talked to and pitied them all; sometimes even she sang in her +very thin tiny voice to the cradle, "just to make it think it's not +empty," she would say to herself as a sort of excuse. + +Among the things on the shelf, nothing interested her much except the +"rain-house." She had never been able to examine it, for it was too high +up for her to reach, and there was nothing in the shape of a ladder in +the garret. Now and then she had thought of climbing up by the help of +some of the chairs, but they were all too rickety to be of any use. So +she contented herself with fancies about the queer little cottage with +its two doors, out of one of which the woman could be seen peeping--the +man never appeared, and Merran used to picture to herself that perhaps +there was a pretty fairy garden behind the house, in which he was always +busy working, while his wife kept everything neat and clean inside and +cooked the dinner, pretending that the little woman only looked out now +and then just to wish her--Merran--good-morning. + +But to-day she was too unhappy to have cheerful fancies about anything +at all, and she even felt vexed with the doll, imagining that its face +was laughing at her as she sat there crying, and as she gazed up at it +the fancy increased till she began to feel quite angry. + +"You'd cry too, if you were me," she said at last. "You are up there +quite safe and snug--nobody to scold you, or order you about. _You're_ +not forced to wear ugly dirty old clothes 'cos you got caught in the +rain--no, of course, you never come out in the rain. I wish I lived in a +country where it was always dry and clean, instead of muddy and wet." + +There was some excuse for this wish. For though it was not a hilly part +of the world--and one generally imagines that it is in mountainous +districts that the weather is the most uncertain--the country where the +farm-house, now Merran's home, stood, was extraordinarily trying in this +respect. It was very fertile, as it was well watered, but changeable +past description, quite enough to try the farmers' tempers, not to speak +of little girls'. Never, for two days together, could even the oldest +inhabitants, naturally supposed to be the most weather-wise, prophesy +with any security what was coming. Barometer after barometer proved all +but useless. I believe it was in a fit of irritation that Farmer Mac had +knocked over the old "rain-house," and broken it, because he imagined +"the pair who tell the weather" had misled him. They had not done so, as +you will hear, and it would have been better for him if he had not +treated them as he did. But of this Merran knew nothing. + +"Yes," she repeated angrily, for it seemed to her that the figure had +moved forward a little and was really looking down at her as if it were +alive, "yes," she said, "_you_ wouldn't like it, I can tell you, so you +needn't stare at me so. If only I could get up to you, I'd tell you +things that would make even you, a silly wooden doll, sorry for me." + +To her amazement, a voice replied to her. + +"Close your eyes," it said, and even if Merran had felt inclined to +disobey, I doubt if she could have done so. "Hold out your +hands--upwards," it went on, and then the child became aware that +whoever it was that spoke was somewhere above her, and again she +obeyed, stretching up her hands as far as she could reach. Then for a +third time came a command. "Spring," said the voice, "spring, high, into +the air. Yes, that is right," and as she gave the leap upwards, instead +of at once dropping down again as one naturally would, she felt her +fingers grasped, gently but firmly, and in another moment her feet +touched ground again, and the same voice now said gently, "Good girl. +Now, Merran, you may look about you." + +You may be sure she lost no time in availing herself of the permission. +But--just at first, she did not feel sure that her eyes were not somehow +or other playing her a trick. What she saw, the place where she found +herself, seemed so strange; still more so the person who, still holding +her by the hands, was looking down at her, smiling. + +"Who are you?" said Merran, drawing away a little, for she felt half +frightened. + +"Don't you know? Look at me well--you have often done so, though you +never saw me so plainly before." + +It was the same voice, and though sweet and gentle it had to be obeyed. +So Merran looked at her, and gradually she began to understand, though +vaguely. + +"Yes," she said, "I seem to know your face, and your dress, +and--and--but yet you can't be the figure in the rain-house. You are so +pretty, so very pretty, and even your dress--oh what lovely stuff it's +made of." + +And so it was. The "doll-woman," as Merran had called her, was attired +in a short, queerly spotted red skirt, with a white jacket--only painted +wood, of course, to mortal eyes--and a kind of kerchief on her head. Now +the skirt had changed into fine, rose-coloured silky stuff, beautifully +embroidered all over with tiny daisies; the hard stiff upper dress was +of snowy, delicate muslin, such as Merran had never before seen or +dreamt of; the head-gear a gauzy scarf of golden tissue; the little feet +were shod with slippers of the same lovely red as the skirt, gleaming +against the whitest and finest of stockings. + +"Oh," exclaimed Merran again, "how pretty, oh how _very_ pretty you are; +your dress too! I can't believe you're the doll-woman. I didn't think +her at all pretty, and yet----" she felt too puzzled to explain, and no +wonder, for the face still smiling at her was so very charming. Blue +eyes like forget-me-nots; cheeks like delicate blush roses; lovely +bright brown hair, some ends of which came straying out of the graceful +head-dress, and above all such a sweet and kindly expression! + +"Yet," said the fairy lady, for that this she was the little girl began +to feel sure, "yet, Merran, your idea is right. I am the same, and this +place where you are standing is what you have called the 'rain-house.' +Look about you--this is only the entrance--and then I will take you +inside and you shall see my husband, who will welcome you as I do. We +have expected you for a long time, but till you spoke to me in your +trouble I had no power to bid you come." + +Then Merran turned and gazed around her, and strange as it had seemed at +first, she began to recognise the roughened walls, the branches wreathed +round the porch with its two open doorways, even the flooring on which +she stood, painted to look like tiles. + +"Yes," she exclaimed, "it _is_ like the rain-house, as much as I could +see of it. But--" and then for the first time a new perplexity struck +her, "if it really is it," she asked, "how can I be in it? How can I be +littler even than you? Why I could have held you in my hand when I was +down in the garret, if I could have got you? Have you grown big, or +have I grown tiny?" + +The Sunshine fairy--we can call her by her name now--laughed, and oh how +pretty her laugh was! + +"My dear Merran," she said, "it doesn't matter. Perhaps, however, it is +less confusing for you to think you have grown tiny. But I needn't +puzzle you if you understand that to all intents and purposes you are in +fairyland--as much there as it is well for a mortal child to be. Your +old rain-house is one of its entrances. Come now, and you shall see +more." + +She opened a door in the back of the hut--or what seemed the back--and +led Merran through. The little girl gave a cry of pleasure. They were +standing in the prettiest room you could imagine. It was all brightness +and cosiness, the chairs and tables of white wood, the carpet like green +moss, the walls hung with soft pink silk, and above all the +"window-doors," as Merran called them to herself, opened on to--surely +the loveliest garden that ever was seen, "out of fairyland" I was going +to say, forgetting that it was, if not fairyland itself, just at the +entrance to it. It did not seem a very large garden, or rather one could +not quite tell how far it extended, for at the farther end it sloped +down rather suddenly and beyond, a great thicket of beautiful trees and +bushes gave a misty, vague appearance, through which Merran only caught +sight of gleams of sky and sunshine--almost, she fancied, of blue hills +far in the distance. + +"That must be the real fairyland," she thought. But she did not feel +much curiosity about it; the pretty room and lovely garden were too full +of delight. And as she gazed, another object attracted her. This was a +fountain in the centre of one of the velvety lawns. She had never seen a +fountain before, but she was a clever child in her own way, and she +remembered pictures which she had seen, of which the dancing silvery +drops reminded her. + +"Is that a--a waterfall?" she asked. + +The fairy lady shook her head. + +"Not exactly," she replied, "though for a little girl like you it is a +very good guess. No, it is the fountain by which we know about the rain +and showers. We send messages far and wide by its means. You could not +understand if I explained. But we work very hard. Fairy folk are not +idle, as some foolish mortals imagine. See--my husband is coming to +speak to you. He and I work together, though behind there in your world +people fancy we don't! Rain without sunshine, or sunshine without rain, +would make a sad state of things." + +"Yes, indeed," said a merry voice, and from behind the mist and dazzle +of the fountain Merran perceived a new-comer--a man with a nice brown +face, dressed something like a charming old china figure which her aunt +greatly treasured--brown velvet jacket and breeches, flowered waistcoat, +a scarlet cap on his short curls--altogether quite the right sort of +person to match the lovely Sunshine fairy. + +He doffed his cap as he came forward, Merran gazing at him in surprise. +She would much have liked to ask him how ever he managed to keep so +beautifully clean and smart if he was always working away at the water, +but she felt rather shy, and only gazed. + +"So you have come at last, little maiden," he said pleasantly. "We have +been waiting here a good while for you." + +[Illustration: "So you have come at last, little maiden."] + +Merran felt greatly astonished and puzzled. + +"Yes," said the Sunshine fairy, "our queen knows all about you. She +always cares for lonely or unhappy children more than for any others, +though they may not be aware of it. And she told us to stay here till +the time came for us to be of service to you, poor little Merran. Not +that it matters much to us where we live. Rain and I can do our work +wherever we are, and move our abode in less time than it would take you +to run downstairs." + +"I wish you would stay here always and let me come and live with you," +pleaded Merran. "Nobody cares for me down there," and she nodded towards +where she supposed the farm must be. "Couldn't you--couldn't your queen +turn me into a fairy for good? I shouldn't ever want to be a real little +girl again, and nobody would mind. They'd just think I'd got +lost--they'd never imagine I'd gone to fairyland." + +"Would nobody mind--would nobody miss you?" the Sunshine fairy asked +gently. + +Merran's eager face fell. She hesitated. + +"P'r'aps Dirk would have minded once, before he went away," she said +ruefully. "But not now--oh no--they say he's grown so fine and strong +like the others. He won't care for me any more, I'm sure. That's another +reason why I wish you'd let me stay with you and never go back to the +farm again. Aunt says I grow stupider and stupider, and uglier too, I +daresay she thinks, though she doesn't exactly say so. And just look at +me"--she held out her shabby old skirt as she spoke--"this horrid dress +is only fit for a beggar girl, and I'll have to wear it all the week, +though it wasn't my fault that I dirtied my nice clean one. The lane was +so slippery, and so muddy. It had been raining so hard." + +The Sunshine fairy smiled. + +"Yes," she said, "but you don't know what it would be like in your +country if it didn't rain a good deal." + +"I know it has to, of course," said Merran, "but if only we knew better, +everything would be easier. Uncle Mac often says there never was such +changeable weather as we have. I don't believe he'd be so cross and +surly if he wasn't always worrying about what the sky's like and what +it's going to do. And if _I_ knew, I'd take care not to go out without +an umbrella, if it was going to be wet, nor along that muddy lane." + +The Rain fairy had gone back to the fountain while Merran was speaking, +and by this time she had quite lost all feelings of shyness with the +pretty Sunshine lady. Just then the sound of the rushing water stopped +suddenly. The fairy looked up and called out. The words seemed strange, +and Merran could not understand them, nor the reply which came back. But +Sunshine turned to her. + +"You will find bright weather on your return," she said, "and I promise +you a pleasant surprise as well. So do not be low-spirited, little +Merran. You have been watched over in ways you know not of, and you may +cheer up from now." + +But it was difficult for the child to believe this all at once. + +"Oh mayn't I stay with you, dear kind fairy?" she pleaded again. "It +wouldn't matter to me how the time passed. I shouldn't be like little +Bridget, who found her friends all gone, for you see I should never want +to go back at all. Oh do let me stay. Can't you turn me into a fairy +altogether?" she repeated. "I'd be your servant or anything you like." + +Still Sunshine shook her head. + +"No, my little maiden," she replied. "What you ask is impossible. You +can never become one of us--a human child you are, a woman you must +before long become. But a happy woman you may be, and to help you to be +happy is the task that has been appointed to us. Long ago, but for love +and pity for you, the old rain-house, as you call it, would have fallen +to pieces, and we should have deserted the farm altogether, as indeed +its master deserved after his treatment of us. He has been punished for +it, however, and now by your means great and unusual good fortune may be +before him and his. And this I will now explain to you, but on one +condition." + +Merran felt a little frightened. + +"Is it something very difficult that I have to do?" she asked timidly. + +The Sunshine lady shook her head. + +"No, indeed," she replied. "It is simply to keep carefully two gifts +which we have prepared for you, and to use them as I will describe. +But--there is the condition." + +"What is it?" said Merran eagerly. "I'm sure you wouldn't want me to do +anything wrong, or to promise anything I can't be sure of being able +for, so I do promise now, this very minute, even before you tell me." + +She was rewarded by a smile. + +"You do right to trust me," said the fairy. "All I bind you to is +this--to tell no one of the magic gifts, to keep your possession of them +a complete secret, until----" + +"Till when?" Merran interrupted. + +"Till you are grown up, and only then if you marry and love your husband +dearly. For I know that without complete confidence, little rifts are +sadly apt to come between even those who love each other most truly." + +"I don't think I'll ever marry," said the poor little maiden. "I'm too +ugly and stupid. But still, if ever I did, I know I'd love my husband, +'cos you see it would be so kind of him to love _me_. And then it would +be nice to tell him the secret, if it would do him good too. Oh I do +wonder what it is you're going to give me!" + +Fairy Sunshine slipped her hand into the front of her bodice and drew +out something. At the same moment the Rain brownie, or gnome--no, he was +too handsome to be a gnome--or whatever you like to call him, came +forward again, and he too was holding something. Together the pair +presented their gifts, and Merran gave a little cry of delight as she +saw what they were. One was a tiny umbrella, a real umbrella, not a sham +toy one, or a gold or silver "charm," such as ladies hang by their +watch-chains, no, a real, exquisitely made and finished umbrella of +green silk and with a beautifully carved ivory handle. + +"I have made it myself," said the Rain man. "It will never wear out and +never lose its power, unless you forget your promise." + +"And for my gift I say the same," echoed Fairy Sunshine. Hers was even +prettier, for it was a parasol, smaller of course than the umbrella, but +just as beautifully perfect--of rose-coloured gauze, lined with white, +and the handle was in the form of a daisy, of silver and enamel. + +Merran was silent with pleasure and admiration. + +"Oh thank you, thank you," she was beginning, but the fairy stopped her. +"Wait a moment," she said, "wait till you learn the real value of these +two things. They are not merely pretty toys. It would be foolish to give +them to you if they were nothing better than that. But they are much +better. We have endowed them with fairy power. See here--if you want to +know what the weather is going to be, you must test them--by yourself, +of course, and when no one can see you, for magic gifts belong to their +owner alone. You must test by trying to open them. If the umbrella +refuses to spread itself, you will know that it is not going to rain. If +so, turn to the parasol. If it opens quite widely you may count on +plenty of sunshine; if only partly, then though the day will be dry, it +will not be very bright. But you must be gentle; it would be useless to +try to force either of them, for then they would break and you would +have lost them for ever." + +Merran's eyes were gleaming with delight. + +"I will be very gentle, I promise you. Oh it will be splendid always to +know about the weather, and uncle and all of them will never again think +me stupid or useless if they find I can foretell it. It will make them +much nicer to me, won't it?" + +"Yes," replied her friend. "That is the reason of our giving you this +secret power. But I must tell you a little more. You must not only be +gentle in touch, you must have gentle feelings in your heart, otherwise +you will fail. Neither umbrella nor parasol will open if you apply to +them with any unkind feeling or wish. For instance, if the farmer or his +sons have been sharp or rough to you and you wish it _would_ rain just +to vex them, it would be no good at all for you to try to open +either--and if your aunt has been cross to you some very hot day----" + +"She often is when it is very hot," interrupted Merran. "More than when +it's cold. She gets headaches in summer." + +"Just so--then if you take hold of the parasol with a secret hope that +the sun is going to blaze away all day, without any cooling summer rain, +so that the dame will be punished for scolding you--no--it would be no +good at all! Inside your heart must be the _hope_ that the wishes of +others shall be fulfilled, whether it come to pass or not; otherwise all +the magic will be gone for the time," and at this Merran looked grave, +very grave, for she had known what it was to long for power to annoy +others. But the fairy's next words cheered her. "I don't think there is +much fear of your having those unkind feelings," she said. "I know that +you are going to be a much happier little girl than ever before, and +remember to begin with, I have promised you a pleasant surprise when you +go home to-day." + +"I wonder what it will be," thought Merran, and she felt so anxious to +know, that it took away part of her reluctance to leave the charming +"rain-house," as just then the Sunshine fairy, taking her hand, added, +"I will show you now how to find your way back." + +They were turning to enter the house again when a sudden thought struck +Merran, who was carrying her new treasures with the greatest care. + +"Where shall I hide them?" she asked anxiously. "I _am_ so afraid of any +one finding them, or taking them, and there's nowhere in the little room +where I sleep that I can lock up. Aunt comes in any time and looks all +about, to see that I keep things tidy." + +"Quite right of her," said the fairy. "I can help you to keep your +treasures in perfect safety, much more so than if you locked them up in +the strongest box that ever was made. Hold them out--one in each hand." + +Merran did so--the fairy touched them both, first the umbrella, then the +parasol, murmuring some word or words that the child could not hear. + +"Now," she said, "I have made them become invisible to all eyes but your +own, or those of the one to whom you may some day confide your secret, +as you have permission to do. See--just to prove it to you, I will for a +moment make them invisible even to yourself. Shut your eyes." + +Merran did so. + +"Open," said the Sunshine lady. + +Merran obeyed, but gave a cry of dismay. + +"They've gone, they've gone," she exclaimed, "and yet I didn't feel you +touching them." + +The fairy laughed. + +"Wink your eyes," she said. "Now look again," and there sure enough were +the magic gifts safe and sound. + +Merran laughed too. + +"So you don't need to be afraid of any one stealing them," said her +friend. + +"N-no," said the child. "But still--where had I best keep them? For you +see in my own room they might get knocked or brushed away, even without +being seen?" + +"How about the garret?" asked the fairy. "No one ever interferes with +you there--they are used to your playing there by yourself, aren't +they?" + +"Oh yes," Merran replied. "Only sometimes aunt goes up to look over +things, or dust a little. Why the other day she said she was going to +throw away the rain-house, as it was no use. I was glad she didn't, for +I have always liked seeing it. And fancy! if she had, I should never +have come up here and seen this lovely place and you, dear Sunshine +fairy, or the Rain fairy, or got your magic gifts! How dreadful to think +of!" But her friend only smiled. + +"She could not have done it," she said. "She had no power to touch it +while we were still here, while it was still one of the secret entrances +to fairyland. But as to a hiding-place for your charms," she went on. +"Have you ever peeped up at the eaves above the little storm-window +where you are so fond of sitting?" + +"Yes, often," said Merran. "There is an old swallows' nest there, but," +and she shook her head sadly, "they have quite deserted it for the last +two years. I used to love to watch them and to hear their twittering." + +"Nevertheless the old nest will serve your purpose perfectly," said the +fairy lady. "Hide your treasures in it; you can easily reach up without +any danger of falling, as there is a good stretch of flat roof outside. +And then, if by any chance you were seen there, it would only be +supposed that you were looking out of the window at the view--trying to +catch the peep of the sea, as you often do." + +"Yes, yes," replied Merran, greatly pleased. "What a good idea, and how +clever of you to think of it! How do you know so much about me and the +garret and everything, dear Sunshine fairy? I suppose you really could +see me when you were the little toy woman in the rain-house? But it +won't be easy to believe she's you! You are _so_ pretty compared with +her. Mayn't I come up here again and see you as you really are?" + +The fairy shook her head. + +"Our task here is accomplished," she said. "You will not need to puzzle +about the toy woman, and how she and I can be the same and yet not the +same. And this way into fairyland will now be closed. But when the +sunshine peeps in at your window and lights up your fair hair and puts +some colour into your cheeks, you may believe, my little maiden, that I +am kissing you. Or when some drops of rain make you start by their cool +touch, you may say to yourself that the Rain fairy is sending you his +greeting. Both of us, first one and then the other, working together. +That is how it is and should be. And now," she went on, "we will see you +safe home again," and glancing up, Merran saw that beside the lovely +lady stood the picturesque figure of the Rain fairy, with his dark but +kindly face. "Together," for once, "the pair that tell the weather." + +They turned and entered the pretty room, passing through it, however, +till at the other side, where a door led into the familiar "rain-house," +or hut, they stood still, beckoning to Merran, who had followed them in +silence, feeling excited and happy, and yet a little sad. Then each took +one of her hands--her gifts were safely nestling inside her bodice--and +whispering softly, in a sort of musical murmur, which made her close her +eyes half sleepily: + +"Farewell, little Merran, farewell. In sunshine or in rainy weather, +little maiden, fare thee well." + +And before she had time to look round or wonder what was going to happen +to her, she felt herself gently pushed over the edge of the rain-house, +like a fledgling which the parent birds are training to fly, and though +she had no wings, fly or flutter she did, down, down, till she found +herself standing safely on the floor of the old garret, just in front of +the storm-window, in her favourite nook. + +She rubbed her eyes. Was it all a dream? + +She might almost have thought so, but--feeling in her bodice for her +handkerchief, her fingers touched something, and she drew out the fairy +gifts. Yes--there they were all right, and evidently changed in size +like her own small self, for they lay in her hands in the same way as +above in the fairy house, "and up there," said Merran, "I must have been +much, much littler than I am now, for I could go in and out quite +easily." + +The thought made her glance at the high shelf where ever since she could +remember had stood the toy hut, with the woman's figure just peeping +out. But what she now saw made her start. + +The rain-house had fallen--its walls and roof were in pieces, as if a +fairy earthquake had shattered them! Merran felt half inclined to cry, +but before she had decided if she should do so or not she caught sight +of a tiny figure peering at her from behind the rubbish. It was the toy +woman, just as she had always been, dress and all, but as Merran gazed, +the stiff wooden doll seemed to melt away, giving place to the lovely +Sunshine fairy, who smiled and waved her hand as if in farewell, and the +little girl, feeling that this was indeed her last sight of the so long +unknown friends, who had watched over and cared for her, allowed some +tears to trickle down her face unchecked, while she waved and kissed her +hand in return till the pretty vision disappeared and nothing was left +to tell her that her visit had not been all a dream, except the broken +bits of painted wood and cardboard which she had called the rain-house! + +[Illustration: She caught sight of a tiny figure peering at her from +behind the rubbish.] + +No--I am wrong--there were her magic gifts! She looked at them with +delight; they seemed even more dainty and charming than when she had +first been given them, and then, remembering the Sunshine fairy's +instructions, she climbed up on her stool till she reached the top of +the small window and could touch the old nest, still there, and still +quite whole. It was a splendid hiding-place. Without any difficulty +Merran gently pushed the umbrella and parasol in, through the moss, till +she felt they were quite secure, just leaving the handles out enough for +her readily to catch hold of them whenever she needed to do so. + +Then, with a sigh of satisfaction, she sat down again in her usual +corner and thought over her wonderful adventures quietly for some +minutes. Suddenly the remembrance struck her of a hint the fairy lady +had given her, about a pleasant surprise in store for her on her return, +and full of curiosity as to what it could be Merran jumped up and made +her way across the garret and down the narrow staircase to the floor +below. + +"It can't be about Dirk's coming," she said to herself, "for I knew that +already. And--that wouldn't be a pleasant thing, for I shall be ashamed +for him to see me in this horrid old dress," and she glanced at herself +disconsolately. + +But just then she heard a voice calling her, a well-known voice, her +aunt's. + +"Merran, Merran," it said, "where are you, child? Come quick. I want +you." + +And something in the tone made the child feel that she was not going to +be scolded. It sounded much kinder than usual. + +"Aunt must be in a good humour," she thought, and indeed so it was. +Nothing makes people feel better tempered and pleased with themselves +than the consciousness of having done a kindly action. + +"I'm coming, auntie," Merran answered brightly, though in her heart she +was not without misgiving. "I hope it isn't that Dirk has arrived +already," she thought, with again the mortifying remembrance of her ugly +dress. + +The dame was standing at the foot of the staircase holding up something +for the little girl to see. It was the unfortunate frock, already washed +and ironed and looking quite pretty, for it really was a nice garment, +white with pink sprigs and flowers running over it, and a neat frill at +the neck. It was Merran's favourite frock--for everyday wear, of course, +that is to say. Her Sunday one was a cornflower blue merino, and she was +very proud of it, especially as it and indeed most of her clothes had +been made out of those left by her own young mother, so that on the +whole it was not often that the orphan child looked like a small +Cinderella. + +"Well, what do you say to this?" said her aunt with great pride, waving +the frock about to show it off the better. + +"Auntie!" cried Merran, who for a moment had been struck dumb with +delight and astonishment. "Have you really washed it and ironed it and +all, already? Oh _how_ good of you! Now I shan't be ashamed for Dirk to +see me. Oh, auntie, I don't know how to thank you." + +"Mind you don't get it dirtied again, then," said the dame, "and get +yourself tidied as quick as you can, for there's no saying how soon the +boy may be here. It was pretty tiresome, you know, for you to go and +tumble into the mud to-day of all days. But I didn't want Dirk, who's +always been so good to you, to find you looking such a little drab." + +"Of course not," said Merran. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be very +careful. It's getting to be quite a fine day now; the sun's come out, +and it's not going to rain again," she added confidently. For I should +have mentioned that before hiding away her new treasures she had tried +in vain to open the fairy umbrella, whereas the parasol spread itself +out like a flower with but the gentlest touch. + +"I hope not," said her aunt, "but there's no saying, and the master's in +a sad fix about the hay--when to start it. Never was such a place as +this for not knowing what the weather's to be. And I would like it to +look bright for Dirk when he first sees his home again, after the +beautiful countries he's been in, where the sun's always shining, so +they say. Though how things can grow without rain passes me!" + +"It says in my lesson-books at school that there's places where it rains +straight on for a good bit and then it's fine and hot for a good bit," +said Merran. + +"Maybe that's how it is," said her aunt. "Well, Dirk'll tell us all +about it and the other things he's seen. Now run off, child, and change +your frock." + +Away flew Merran, her spirits higher than for many a long day, for it +was not often that the dame talked to her so pleasantly, and as she ran +off she repeated her prophecy. "You'll see, auntie," she said. "It's not +going to rain at all to-day. It'll be lovely weather." + +And so it proved. The few clouds that had still looked somewhat +threatening, gradually dispersed; when the farmer came in he too seemed +very cheery. + +"If this weather holds on for a while, we'll do famously," he said. "A +good thing for Dirk to be back. We'll be none the worse for another pair +of strong arms, such as I hope his are by now," and almost as he spoke, +there was the sound of wheels approaching the farm-house,--for one of +the elder brothers had driven in the market-cart to meet Dirk at the +village where the coach was to drop him,--and in another minute in came +the traveller himself, eager to greet and be greeted. + +And a hearty welcome awaited him. + +He had grown and improved in every way. In fact he was no longer the +ugly duckling of the family, but bid fair in a year or two to rival his +stalwart brothers. So, naturally, of course, his parents were delighted. + +"Your uncle has done well by you, and that's a fact," said the farmer, +giving the boy a hearty slap on the shoulders. "All the same, I hope +he's not given you a liking for his way of life." + +For the uncle with whom Dirk had been seeing the world for the last year +or two, for the benefit of his health, was a sea-faring man--the +captain and owner of a small trading vessel. + +Dirk laughed, but shook his head. + +"No fear of that," he replied. "I like the sea well enough, but I don't +want to be a sailor. No, father, I'm a farmer, at least going to be one +I hope." + +"That's all right," said his father. "And there's no life to compare +with the life of the fields, to my mind. There's just one thing to +complain of, especially in these parts, and that is the uncertain +weather. No telling any day what it may change to--and none of the +glasses as I've ever come across is much good, if any. And this year's +been one of the changeablest I remember. I wonder why it's so, for we've +no hills close about. Maybe it's through being near the sea. I've half a +mind to send for a strand of seaweed and hang it in the porch, and see +what that'll tell." + +"Not much good--it changes when the weather does, but not far ahead," +said Dirk. Then a sudden idea struck him. "Mother," he went on, "long +ago there used to be an old-fashioned kind of weather-teller, up in the +garret, do you remember? And not long ago, in Holland, where uncle had +to take a cargo, I came across one just like it, and the goodwife of +the house told me it never failed them. Suppose we get out our one?" + +The dame shook her head. + +"Strange you should speak of it, Dirk," she replied. "It's many a day +since I've given it a thought, till this very afternoon--when--" and +here she gave a little smile half of apology for her own childishness, +"I went up to the garret to look out of the end window, which has such a +good view of the road, to see if the cart and you boys were in sight. +And glancing up at the shelf, I missed something I was used to see +there. It was the old toy hut with the man and the woman. It's all in +pieces--just a crumbled heap, and no man nor woman to be seen. Maybe the +cat's knocked it down." + +"Then it's no good," said Dirk, "for I don't think they make them +now--not in England, anyway.--But, mother," he continued, "I've not seen +little Merran yet. Where is she, and is she all right?" + +The dame started. + +"To be sure. I was forgetting about her," she said, "and she was here +not five minutes ago. I told her to stay--not that she needed telling +when it was to see you again, Dirk. Merran, child," she called, raising +her voice, whereupon the little girl came forward shyly from the deep +recess of the old-fashioned window where she had been partly hidden. + +"I did stay, auntie," she said. "I was only waiting for you and uncle to +see Dirk first," and as she spoke, she held out her hand to the +new-comer. He took it, but also stooped down to kiss her. "You've grown +a bit, quite a tidy bit, little Merran," he said, "and you're looking +well too--more colour in her cheeks, and so fresh and smart. Is that a +new frock she's on, eh, mother?" + +His praise went far to reward the dame for the trouble she had given +herself. She smiled, and catching Merran's eye, the smile was returned. + +"She's growing a big girl now, you see," said the aunt. "Old enough to +be always tidy, and beginning to be handy too, we'll hope." + +"Yes," said the farmer, turning from the window where he had been +standing looking out. "You can be useful in the hay-field now, child. If +I did but know what the weather's like to be to-morrow, so as to begin!" + +"Uncle," exclaimed Merran eagerly. "It's going to be fine, very fine all +to-day, and I'm almost sure all to-morrow, and I think for a lot of +days." + +Her uncle glanced at her and gave a little laugh. + +"I hope you're right, child," he said. "But how should you know? You +can't be a weather prophet at your age!" + +"I can't tell you how I know," began Merran, reddening a little, "but I +feel----" and just then Dirk broke in, and what he said was very lucky, +as, both then and afterwards, it served the good purpose of saving her +from cross-questioning about her curious power. + +"Don't be too sure of that, father," he said. "There's queer things we +can't explain, but true for all that. I've seen a good many of them at +sea, and in the far-off places I've been at. There was one old sailor +who always dreamt before we put in at any port who'd find letters and +who wouldn't, and he never was wrong. And away in the far East, as for +prophets!--my! I could tell you stories as'd seem like magic. Over here +we're thicker-headed, and maybe it's just as well. But for _nature_ +things, there needn't be much doubt but what some are far cuter than +others, and maybe Merran's one who has the weather gift." + +The little girl glanced at him gratefully, though she did not speak. In +her heart she was saying to herself, "I shouldn't wonder if the dear +Sunshine fairy hasn't put it into his head to say these things." + +As for the farmer and his wife, they were both much impressed, and when +an hour or two later the sun set in a glow of crimson and rose, the +child's pleasant augury seemed still more trustworthy. + +And the next morning proved its correctness. + +Little did any one suspect that long before the rest of the household +had begun to think of awaking, in the early summer dawn, Merran had +crept up to her garret, and there, half trembling with excitement, +though much more of hope than fear, had drawn out her magic gifts to +test them afresh. Nor was she disappointed. The parasol flew open in her +hands, almost before she touched it; the umbrella resisted every effort, +though of course she avoided any rough force. It might have been glued +or nailed together! + +"Fine!" exclaimed Merran joyfully. "Of course it's going to be fine all +day--as bright and sunshiny as any one could wish. And after to-day too, +and for some time to come I am almost certain. There's something in the +feeling of the dear things that I can't describe--I'm getting to +understand them. The parasol seems to jump at me in a sort of assuring +way that must mean even more than just for to-day, and the umbrella--you +_are_ a determined fellow, Mr. Umbrella!" + +She laughed merrily in her delight and satisfaction, and the brightness +in her face when she went downstairs to breakfast made the others smile +at her. + +Happily for us all, good spirits are quite as infectious as low ones, if +not indeed more so. + +"I'm glad I washed her frock for her yesterday," thought the dame, +taking credit to herself for the girl's pleasant looks. "Children are +easy up and easy down. Maybe I've been a bit too sharp with her now and +then." + +And Dirk thought to himself that poor little Merran had certainly +greatly improved, and even the other brothers refrained, half +unconsciously, from teasing or jeering at her, as they had too often +done. + +The farmer came in after they were all seated at table. He had been +having a good look at the sky, and his eyes fell on the small +prophetess, with approval. + +"You've been right, Merran," he said. "It does look now as if we were in +for a spell of real summer weather. And who'd have thought it this time +yesterday. If only it lasts till we get the hay in." + +"It will, uncle, it will. You'll see," said she. "Just you trust me a +bit. I'll know, I'm sure, when it's going to change." + +And strange to say, no one laughed at her or her predictions. On the +contrary, all of the family seemed impressed. Dirk's remarks the evening +before were not forgotten. + +And for some time to come Merran had no reason for misgiving. Morning +after morning the lovely fairy parasol flew open at her tiniest touch; +morning after morning the umbrella refused to yield in even the faintest +degree. So the Seaview Farm hay was mown, and dried, and stacked under +the most favourable circumstances, and more than one of the neighbouring +yeomen wished that they had been as quick about it as Mac and his sons, +though at the first start most of the wiseacres had told them they would +find it had been better to put off a while. + +And once it was all safe, there came a change. One warm bright morning, +Merran looked up at the sky silently and then turned to her uncle. + +"It's going to rain," she said. "Before night it'll be raining heavily." + +The farmer glanced in his turn at the blue, almost cloudless heavens. + +"Not a bit of it," he said. "You're out for once, child. No sign +whatever of rain. It's market-day, and I'm off. I've got a good bit of +business to see to, to-day, at the town. No, no, the weather's all +right. You'll see. I may be a trifle late, dame. Don't you be uneasy." + +"You'll take your overcoat, anyway, father," said his wife, who was not +so unbelieving in Merran's foresight as her husband. + +He replied by a hearty laugh. + +"Overcoat," he repeated. "Bless me, what are you thinking of? Overcoat +in weather like this! Why, it's as settled as can be--warm and fine, +like it's been for the last week or two. Couldn't be more settled." + +"That's a new word to use for these parts," said Dirk quietly. Merran +said nothing. The dame turned to her sons. + +"Which of you's going with father?" she said, adding in a whisper to +Dirk, who was next her at table, "You'll see to it if you go," she said, +"see that he takes his coat. Think of his rheumatism if he gets soaked." + +But Dirk shook his head, which was explained by the farmer's next +words. + +"None of 'em," he said, in reply to the goodwife's enquiry. "There's too +much to do at home just now for more than me to be spared. You've all +got your work cut out for you--eh, boys?" + +Then followed some field and crops talk, and no more was said about the +weather, and soon after Farmer Mac set off. + +Merran felt sorry and a little anxious. She knew that there would have +been no use in her saying anything more, for her uncle was one of the +most obstinate of men, but several times that day she made her way up to +the garret to test her strange barometers, half in hopes that the bad +weather would hold off till the farmer was safe home again. The first +time the result was much the same as it had been on her early morning +visit. The parasol opened slowly and refused to spread out far. The +umbrella responded to her touch as it had never before done--yet it did +not _spring_ apart, but gradually allowed itself to stretch a certain +amount. + +"That means," said Merran, "that the rain's not coming just yet," for +she was growing curiously sensitive to the shades of forecast in the +magic toys. It was almost as if they spoke to her. But the second trial, +later in the day, told of nearer approach of the change, and an hour or +two after that, when Merran's anxiety and in a sense, too, her curiosity +lured her again to her garret window, the parasol was as if glued +together, while the umbrella flew open in her hands, like a bird eager +for flight. + +Merran felt at the same time satisfied and yet distressed. + +"It shows how true they are, and that I can correctly understand them," +she said to herself. "Still I do wish poor uncle could get home safely +before the rain begins, for evidently it will be very heavy indeed. I +wish he had listened to me this morning, but I didn't like to be _too_ +certain, for if I had foretold it wrongly they'd have lost faith in me, +and I couldn't feel quite sure if it meant that the weather would change +so soon." + +But even as she reached up to restore her treasures to their +hiding-place in the deserted nest, something cold fell on her hand and +made her start. The rain had begun! + +She made her way downstairs feeling somewhat distressed, for she was by +nature affectionate and most ready to sympathise, and of late her aunt +had been so much kinder and gentler that the little maid's heart was +quite won over. + +She was standing by the window, gazing out at the fast increasing +downpour, when the dame came in. "Supper-time, Merran," she said +briskly, though there was no ill-temper in her tone. "We must be setting +the table." + +Merran turned with a little start. + +"I'm so sorry----" she was beginning, when her aunt interrupted her. +"Don't look so scared, child," she said, "I wasn't for scolding you." + +"And I wasn't forgetting about supper, auntie," replied the little girl. +"It's only that I was wishing poor uncle had got safe back before the +rain began----" + +"Why," exclaimed the dame, interrupting a second time, as she hurried to +the window, "you don't mean to say it's started already? I was so busy +in the laundry I hadn't noticed. Deary, deary," she went on, "but it is +coming down! And the master without his coat--he'll be soaked through +and through. I wish he'd listened to you, child, that I do, though I was +hoping it'd hold off till night." + +"I wish so too, auntie," said Merran. "I'd rather have been in the wrong +than that poor uncle should suffer through me being in the right." + +"I'm sure you would," said the dame heartily. Then she stood silent for +a moment or two, gazing in distress at the rain, which by this time was +indeed a case of "cats and dogs," really waterspouts. The anxious wife +sighed deeply. + +"He's in for it and no mistake," she said. "Men's that obstinate. Well, +well, all we can do is to have hot water ready and make him change his +things at once. I'll fetch some of his clothes down to air them--no, +I'll do better still, we'll light a small fire upstairs, for, summer +though it is, the evening's very chilly. And Merran, child, from now +I'll stick to you as my weather-glass. It's a wonderful gift you've got, +and we'll do well to believe in it." + +"I think so too, auntie," said Merran. "I really can foretell about it," +and her quiet tone impressed her hearers still more, for by this time +Dirk and one of his brothers had hurried in. + +Supper was an uncomfortable meal that evening. They were all anxious, +for they all remembered the father's weary weeks of rheumatic fever the +year before, and one or other of the "boys" kept running to the door to +look out, or to listen for the sound of wheels, not easy to distinguish +through the torrents of rain. And Merran was up and downstairs every few +minutes to see that the fire was all right, and the clothes safely +getting aired. And at last he came, poor man! + +He looked very white and shivery, and, to tell the truth, rather ashamed +of himself, when he came in. For besides the miserable state of +drenchedness he was in, he had to own that the discomfort was all thanks +to his obstinacy, and distrust of the little "weather prophet's" +warning. Few elderly men of any class, more especially a self-willed old +farmer like Mac, would like to allow that they had been outdone in +wisdom by a child, but on the whole Merran's uncle was more ready to +give in than might have been expected. + +"I'll listen to you next time, child," he said. "That I promise you. And +to you too, dame," turning to his wife, "for it wouldn't have been so +bad if I'd taken my thick coat. Where Merran gets her weather knowledge +from beats me," he went on, "but there it is, and that's a fact. I'm not +the only one that's been caught in the rain to-day, I can tell you. For +at market all the talk was of the fine weather lasting a good bit +longer." + +"I daresay it'll come back again," said Merran. "But I do wish the storm +had held off till you were safe home, poor uncle." + +"And so do I," said Dirk, who was busy helping the farmer to throw off +his streaming garments. "As it is, father," he added in a lower voice, +"you'll do well to keep that promise. I tell you I've seen queerish +things in my wanderings--things beyond us to explain, and there's no +doubt in my mind that little Merran has got this strange power, and +lucky for us that she has." + +The farmer looked much impressed, for since his travels Dirk had come to +be looked upon as an authority. + +"You don't think," said old Mac hesitatingly, "that there's anything +uncanny about it. I wouldn't like the maid to get called a witch, though +the days of ill-treating such are past and gone, thank Heaven." + +Dirk did not reply directly. + +"There's things we can't explain," he repeated. "There's good mysteries +and bad mysteries. But Merran's all right. I'd trust her to use her +extra sense for kindness, so she'll earn no ill-will by it." + +By this time the farmer, who was unusually meek, had been put to bed and +made to drink hot possets and all the rest of it, in hopes of warding +off another bad rheumatic attack. To some extent the treatment was +successful, but not entirely. The poor man had to keep his room for over +a fortnight, which was very trying, as harvest was by no means over. +Still, two weeks' illness is less than two months, and on the whole he +bore his troubles patiently, and one thing which made this attack of his +less wearisome both to himself and to his family than those that had +laid him up before was the great fancy he had taken to Merran--his +"weather maiden," as he had dubbed her. She proved to be an excellent +little nurse, and the farmer was never as content and patient as when +she was sitting by him, chatting cheerfully, as she was now able to do, +since she was no longer frightened of being scolded, or reading aloud +some of her favourite stories. For she was naturally far from stupid. +Every morning and evening the invalid was sure to ask her about the +weather, and, as we know, she was always ready with a forecast, which +never once proved mistaken. Every day, many times a day indeed, did she +say to herself how different her life now was from what it had been +before her wonderful visit to the old "rain-house." + +The farmer recovered; the harvest proved a good one, time passed and +winter came again, and with every season Merran's fame spread. All over +that corner of the country she came to be talked of as the "weather +maiden," her uncle's name for her, and many a farmer, many a peasant, +many a goodwife came to consult her and to hear her predictions. Her +fame spread farther indeed than among her own people. The squire's lady +never fixed the day for her summer parties or for the school children's +feast without looking in to ask little Merran's opinion. For by long +practice and delicate care in handling her magic gifts the girl came to +foretell for days beforehand which of them--umbrella or parasol, +"Rain-man" or "Sunshine fairy"--was to be in the ascendant. + +Time passed, weeks became months, months years, as is the appointed way +in this round old world of ours. From a plain, unnoticeable little girl +Merran grew into a tall sweet-faced maiden. She was not exactly pretty, +she was quiet and rather serious, but her dark eyes, though somewhat +dreamy in expression, were very charming, and the tones of her voice +were very musical. So she was not without admirers, you may be sure. +Many a man would have liked to marry her--some among them, no doubt, +influenced by the knowledge of her wonderful gift, for of course the +possession of it could not be kept a secret if she had wished, and she +was far from desiring this. On the contrary, her kind heart rejoiced +when she was able to use it for the advantage of her neighbours as well +as for the relations whom she now loved as if they were her very own, +and who on their side loved her. + +But she kept her secret, faithful to the promise she had given to the +lovely Sunshine fairy, though there were times when she longed to share +it with one in whom she could safely confide. And now and then at +intervals she had a strange feeling that Dirk suspected something, for +she sometimes caught his eyes fixed on her with a kind of veiled +enquiry, and once he said in a low voice, with a curious smile, "Little +Merran, you are not like the rest of us." + +"Are you, yourself, Dirk?" she replied. "There are things you know and +feel that the others don't--the voices in the wind, the burden of the +birds' songs, the secrets of the restless waves--oh, Dirk, if one lived +a thousand years, there would still be mysteries upon mysteries of +beautiful things to learn!" + +Then she grew shy again, for she was always quiet and timid and +wondered how she had found courage to say so much. But Dirk seemed +pleased. + +"Yes," he said, nodding his head gently. "Maybe we are a bit different +from most of those about us. You, anyway, Merran. I've seen strange +lands and beautiful places, but you--you give me the feeling that once +upon a time you must have had a glimpse of real fairyland." + +Merran grew red at this, but she made no reply. + +Only to herself she said, "I wish--I do wish I might tell him," and then +she grew still redder when the words of the Sunshine fairy returned to +her memory that only to _one_ person might she ever reveal her secret. + +"And that one will never be my fate," thought the girl sadly. "Dirk will +never care for me in _that_ way, and never could I care for any one but +him." + +Whereas on his side, Dirk said to himself that he must never hope to win +the sweet weather maiden for himself. "Why, half the young fellows in +the country-side, and old ones too, are ready to woo her if she'd let +them! They think she'd bring good luck to her husband, and so she would. +But it's not for that _I_'d care for her--it's that I love her for her +own self, luck or no luck." + +And one day--one happy day--had the Sunshine fairy whispered to him to +take courage, I wonder?--he determined to risk it, and told the maiden +his hopes and fears, and found how little reason for the latter there +had been, and the two young things, who had drawn to each other from +their first meeting, before long were married, carrying with them to a +home of their own the magic gifts, now, to Merran's delight, her +husband's as much as her own. + +Good fortune was theirs. Whatever Dirk undertook, whatever Merran +planned, prospered. And that it should be so, they deserved. For they +remained kindly and unselfish, ever ready to help others less happy than +themselves, grateful for their blessings, patient under trials, of +which, as life cannot be _always_ sunshine, they had their share. They +lived, I was told, to a good old age. What became of the fairy +treasures, I cannot say. Whether they were handed down to their +children, or whether they were whisked back to fairyland, I know not, +not any more than I know what has become of all the toy "rain-houses" +which in our grand-parents' times were so often to be seen. The world is +growing too clever for the fairies, I fear, unless perhaps, unseen and +unsuspected, they are still behind the scenes in some of the marvels +and inventions all around us. Who can say? + +And by the bye, I have heard it whispered that in a certain +out-of-the-way corner of this dear old country there lives a family +whose sons and daughters have a curious gift of "weather wisdom." Maybe +they are the descendants of our Dirk and his Merran? + + + + +The Enchanted Trunks + + +Once upon a time, on a very hot summer's day, a girl stood waiting at +the door of a small old-fashioned inn, beside a little heap of luggage. +She was quite young, about sixteen, or seventeen at the most. Her face +was sweet in expression, and would have been pretty if she had not +looked so tired and anxious. She was quite alone and seemed shy and +timid, for now and then, when some of the folk belonging to the place, +passing in and out, wished her good-day, or made any friendly remark, +she started and grew crimson even though she replied politely. And when +after a time the landlady herself came to the door and asked the girl if +she would not step inside and wait in the parlour, she answered +hesitatingly that she thought she had better stay in the porch. + +"I'm so afraid of missing the coach, or losing my seat in it," she +said. + +"No fear of that, Miss," said the comfortable-looking dame. "Your place +is engaged, no doubt." + +"Oh yes, I suppose so," the stranger replied. "My name is +O'Beirne--Clodagh O'Beirne." + +"That's all right," said the landlady; "I remember the name. The +master--that's my husband--called out to the coachman last night that he +must secure a place for you to-day. You'd written for it, no doubt?" + +"Yes, the friends I stayed the night with--I only came over from Ireland +yesterday--did so. It was their gig that brought me here just now, to +catch the coach as it passed." + +The landlady's good-humour seemed to cheer the girl a little; she began +to look less frightened. + +"You've come a long way," the older woman remarked. "Right across the +sea, I take it?" The girl nodded, and looked as if she were going to +cry. The landlady's curiosity was aroused. "And it's the first time +you've left home, I daresay, and all by yourself too. It must feel +strange-like." + +"I wasn't alone till to-day. A friend came over with me," Clodagh +replied. "And I shan't be alone long. I'm to meet a--a lady, a cousin, +and we are to travel together." + +"Ah indeed, that'll be much pleasanter for you," said her companion. + +The young girl murmured something. But to herself she was saying that +she was by no means sure of it. And after a little silence she went on, +"I don't think I'd mind travelling alone--I don't mind anything very +much now that I haven't any home--except," and she glanced at the heap +of rather heterogeneous baggage, "except for all these things. I'm so +afraid of losing half of them, and yet Biddy and I packed as neatly as +ever we could. Biddy was grandmother's maid, and she stayed with me +after dear granny died, till it was settled for me to go to live with my +cousin and travel about with her." + +"It'll be fine and amusing for you," said the landlady. + +"I--I don't know," said Clodagh. "I'm not used to travelling, and I've +not seen my cousin for a good while, and she may think me stupid." + +"But she's a young lady, I suppose?" said her questioner. + +"Not very. She's--oh, she's seven or eight years older than I, and she +wants to travel all about till she finds a place to suit her. She's like +me, except that she's rich. She's got no parents and can do as she +likes." + +Then suddenly it seemed to strike the young stranger that she was +perhaps too communicative, and she grew rather pink. "I shouldn't +perhaps----" she began, but the kind-hearted woman understood and +interrupted. "It's me, Miss, that's in fault," she said. "I shouldn't +make free to ask so many questions. But it went to my heart to see you +standing there alone, so young and half-frightened like. I had a little +daughter once--she'd have been not so much older than you if she'd +lived----" She stopped for a moment, then she went on again: "Wouldn't +you like a cup of tea now, Miss?" she said. "It's a time o' day I often +has one, for we've no lie-abeds in our house, and it's a good while +since we'd breakfast, and if you've come some distance you'll have been +up betimes, I'd daresay." + +Clodagh's face brightened. + +"It's very kind of you," she said. "I would like it uncommonly. I +couldn't eat any breakfast, I was so afraid of being too late. +But--please tell me how much it will cost. I mustn't spend anything I +can help, you see. Once I'm with Cousin Paulina, she will pay things +like that for herself and me." + +"Don't trouble your pretty head about it," said the goodwife. "We're +well-to-do, my man and me, and neither chick nor kin to come after us, +more's the pity--and--you do make me think of what my little maid would +have been by now, Missy, if you'll pardon the liberty. Now just step +inside--to my own parlour--the kettle's on the hob--you'll feel quite a +different young lady once you've had a bit of breakfast, better late +than never." + +"And you promise me I won't miss the coach," said the girl, as she +followed the kind woman into the little sitting-room behind the bar. + +"No fear, no fear," replied her hostess, and as Clodagh sat down in the +comfortable chintz-covered old armchair--the landlady's own, which she +drew forward for the unexpected guest--the girl gave a sigh of content. +"It is nice and cool in here," she said, "and I _am_ so tired already +and so thirsty. I wish I were going to stay here for a bit." + +"Indeed and I wish it too, Miss, and it's our best we'd do to make you +comfortable," said the dame, as she bustled about to make the tea, which +she fetched from the kitchen hard by, and to cut some tempting slices of +bread and butter. "But travelling's very pleasant, some folks say. +There's an old lady not far from here--that's to say, her own home +is--but she's for ever on the go. They do say as she's been all over the +world, and old as she is, she seldom rests." + +"Is she so very old?" asked Clodagh. + +"No one knows," was the mysterious reply. "My husband's mother, and +she's no chicken as you can fancy, remembers her as quite aged when she +was young. But she never seems to get no older. Some say she was +spirited away by the good folk when she was a baby and that she's got a +fairy's life--indeed there's some that will have it she's not really one +of us at all." + +Clodagh, by this time refreshed by the tea, sat up eagerly. "Oh," she +exclaimed, "I'm so glad you talk of the good folk. I thought it was only +at home--in Ireland, I mean, that people still believed in them." + +"Dear me, no," said her hostess, with a smile. "Maybe in the big towns +you never hear of them nowadays, and no wonder. They can't abide noise +and bustle and dirt. But in these parts, oh dear yes. I've heard tell of +them all _my_ life, I know, and of their tricksy ways. They can be the +best of friends, but, my word! if they take offence they can worry one's +life out." + +Clodagh was listening with all her ears. Her eyes had grown brighter, +and some colour had come into her cheeks, with the mere mention of fairy +folk, so familiar to her since her infancy. + +"Oh," she said with a little sigh, "what you say does make me wish still +more that I could stay here a few days and get rested, and you would +tell me stories, as my dear old nurse used to do." + +"That I would," said the landlady, "and indeed I wish you could stay to +hear them. Not that I've ever really come across the fairies--brownies +and pixies, they call them in some parts--myself, nor even set eyes on +one of them--unless indeed----" and here she stopped abruptly, lowering +her voice. + +"Unless what?" asked Clodagh. "Do tell me." + +"Just what I was saying a minute ago," the dame went on. "Unless that +strange old lady is one herself, as I'm more than half inclined to think +by what I've heard tell of her." + +"Then you've seen her?" questioned the girl eagerly. + +The landlady nodded. + +"Just seen her," she said. "Twice--no, I think three times, she's passed +in the coach, and I've just said a word to her at the door. Once she +asked for a glass of milk. 'Twas a very hot morning, like as it might +be to-day." + +"How I wish she might be in the coach this morning!" exclaimed the +traveller, her eyes sparkling. "It would be so interesting, and if she +knew I was Irish she might take a fancy to me, for the good people do +love the Irish!" and at the idea the girl laughed merrily for the first +time. + +"Yes," agreed the dame, "indeed she might, my pretty young lady. But +it's a long time since she's passed this way. One never knows where she +is, or how she'll travel. Now and then she'll set off in her own coach +and four, like any princess, and I've heard it whispered that she'll +sometimes disappear from her home, no one knows how." + +"Oh, a broomstick, maybe, or has she a pet gander?" laughed Clodagh. + +But the landlady looked a little frightened. + +"Hush, Missy, my dear," she whispered, "it doesn't do to----" Then she +suddenly started. "I'm afraid that's the coach," she exclaimed, "and +sorry I am to part with you, but if you're bound to go, we'd best be at +the door ready." + +Clodagh jumped up at once. + +"And thank you a thousand times," she said, "for all your kindness. +Yes, I must go. My cousin will be looking out for me. I've not seen her +for five years," she added nervously. "Wish me good luck, my kind +friend." + +"That I will," said the dame heartily. + +"You've cheered me greatly," said the girl, and in her impulsive Irish +way she held up her sweet young face for a kiss. + +The coach it was, sure enough. There was some trouble about getting +Clodagh's rather complicated belongings on to it, it was already so +piled up. But with difficulty all was at last disposed, outside and in, +and thanks to the landlady nothing was left behind. + +There were tears in the kind woman's eyes when at last it rumbled off, +her young guest of an hour waving good-bye out of the window. + +But it is Clodagh's adventures we have to follow. For a minute or two +the bustle of getting her bags and boxes settled prevented her realising +that there was already a passenger in the coach, and before looking +round she felt obliged to lean out once again in a last farewell to her +kind new friend. She was soon, however, recalled to the present. + +"Who is there?" said a voice--a rather petulant one--from the corner. +"Whatever is the matter? I was fast asleep till there was all this fuss! +Oh!--" with an exclamation, "can it be you, Clodagh O'Beirne? I had no +idea we were at Crossway Corner already?" + +"Yes, indeed," Clodagh replied, "it is I. I didn't know it was you, +Cousin Paulina. I wasn't sure, you see, if I would find you here, or if +you would only meet me at the next stage. Lady Roseley wasn't certain +from your letter which it would be." + +"Humph," murmured Mistress Paulina. "Well, after all I decided that to +avoid any mistake I'd get up for once by cock-crow, so as to start from +Stracey. I hate getting up early, and I was fast asleep as you saw. Did +Lady Roseley send some one with you, then, to see you off? You seemed to +be nodding good-byes." + +"No," said Clodagh. "That's to say only the old coachman who drove me +over and left me at the inn. I was all right. No, it was only the +landlady I was waving to. She was so kind, helping to carry out my +things," and she glanced round at the various encumbrances. The place +was certainly inconveniently crowded, and so Paulina, now wide-awake, +seemed to think, as she took it all in, and that with evident annoyance. + +"I must say, Clodagh," she remarked, "that you have a queer collection +of luggage. I hope you will get rid of some of these bags and baskets +before we start again. I don't deny that I travel with a fair amount +myself," and indeed the coach had seemed well packed inside and out, +before the younger girl's belongings had been added, "but a child like +you can't need such an amount. You'll have to learn to be a clever +traveller, my dear, if we're to get on together." + +"I'm very sorry," said Clodagh apologetically. "You see, cousin, I never +have left home before, and I didn't know how to manage. I'll do my best, +and I hope I'll soon learn, for of course I shall pack for you as well +as for myself. That I quite understand." + +"Well, yes," said Paulina. "I can't go about with you _and_ a maid. And +as things have unfortunately turned out so sadly for you, it seemed to +me you'd be better off with me than going among strangers. And on my +side, I'm sick of maids with their airs and graces and vulgarities. I +prefer to have a companion of my own class." + +"Yes, thank you," Clodagh replied. "It was a very kind thought of +yours, and I shall soon learn to manage well, I hope. To begin with, I +think we might arrange all these things better," and she stood up and +pulled about and pushed and lifted, till the narrow space looked more +orderly, Paulina from her corner now and then directing and advising. +She was a handsome young woman, with a by no means disagreeable +expression. Indeed there was often a kindly light in her bright eyes, +and gentle curves about her mouth. But she was self-willed and +quick-tempered, "spoilt" in short, though generous and well-meaning, +entirely unused to contradiction and impatient of any obstacles in the +way of her wishes or fancies. + +"Thank goodness," she ejaculated, as she settled herself down again in +her wraps, "thank goodness, we have no fellow-passengers. Now I mean to +go to sleep again, and so may you, child, if you like. We shall stop at +Oddingstowe for dinner and fresh horses, and by four o'clock we should +be at Felway, where the Marristons' carriage--and, it is to be hoped, a +cart for the luggage--is to meet us. They expect us to stay at the +Priory for two or three days. They know you will be with me." + +"Yes, thank you," replied Clodagh again, feeling mortally shy at the +prospect before her, yet not venturing to say so. + +Paulina composed herself to sleep once more, and before long, in spite +of the thoughts that crowded her mind--anxieties, hopes, and fears, as +she realised more clearly her new position as her kinswoman's +companion--Clodagh too, though a few minutes ago she would not have +believed it possible, Clodagh too dozed off. + +And she slept, as did Paulina, for some time. The stopping of the +vehicle, the cessation of the monotonous rumbling, aroused them both. + +Paulina sat up, rubbing her eyes. + +"Dear me," she exclaimed, "Oddingstowe already!" + +Clodagh looked out of the window. + +"No," she said hesitatingly. "I don't think it can be. There's no +village or houses; only a turnpike. Oh, yes," she went on, "I see what +it is. We're stopping to take up another passenger." + +"What sort of one?" her cousin demanded. "I hope to goodness it's not a +first-class one--an inside one--we are stuffed up enough already. +There's scarcely air to breathe." + +"N-no," Clodagh replied, continuing to look out. "I don't think it can +be. It's only a little old woman, quite poor, and she doesn't seem to +have any luggage. She's only carrying a hand-bag--just a sort of +reticule." + +"All right," Paulina responded, lazily settling herself again for +another nap. "All the same, I wish they wouldn't pull up in this +unnecessary way. I was so comfortably asleep. It's the only thing to do +in this tropical heat." + +Clodagh too was sitting down again, congratulating herself, more on +Paulina's account than her own, that their privacy was not to be +disturbed--when, alas, her unspoken relief proved premature. To her +astonishment, the guard approached the door, which he opened, and with a +"your pardon, ladies," to the two girls, held it civilly by the handle, +for the new-comer to enter. + +Clodagh instinctively drew back a little for her to pass. There were +four places--two and two--facing each other. Hitherto the younger girl +had been sitting beside her cousin--the opposite seat covered with their +possessions. But now she at once began to clear a space on it for +herself, for she saw at a glance that the stranger was old, and looked +fragile and delicate, and in spite of the extreme simplicity of her +attire--she wore only a clean but faded cotton of an old-fashioned +flowery pattern, half covered by a sort of market-woman's cloak, and +surmounted by a huge black straw bonnet--in spite of this there was a +certain dignity about her as in reply to Clodagh's silent attention she +murmured, "I thank you, young lady. But do not disturb yourself. I can +occupy the back seat." + +"I should think so indeed," exclaimed Paulina angrily. "Indeed, my good +woman, I am inclined to believe that your coming in here at all is some +mistake. This is for first-class passengers, and moreover our places +have been engaged for some days ahead.--What are you thinking of, you +silly child?" she went on sharply, turning to her cousin. "Why should +you give up your place to this person and her bundles? I won't have it. +Sit down beside me at once," for Clodagh with a crimson face was still +hesitating and moving about the bags and baggage nervously, though the +new-comer had already settled herself quietly with her back to the +horses. + +"Paulina," said the younger girl in a low voice, "_do_ not be so +excited. She has no bundles, or anything, so it cannot really +inconvenience us. And she is old, and looks so fragile. It is only +right that I should offer her my seat." + +Paulina was about to reply in the same irritated tone, when she was +interrupted. + +"I thank you, my kind young lady," said the stranger in a clear voice, +which somehow enforced attention, "I thank you for your courtesy and +consideration. But I have no desire to take your place, I assure you. In +fact I prefer this side. I am an old traveller. Nor will my presence +incommode you for long. I shall leave the coach before we reach +Oddingstowe." + +Clodagh murmured a gentle "Thank you." She was grateful to the old woman +for not resenting her cousin's rudeness. And to Paulina she whispered, +"She _cannot_ be a mere peasant. Her voice and words show it"; and to do +her justice, the elder girl looked a little ashamed of herself. + +"Don't tease me," she said. "It always upsets me to be wakened suddenly. +I'm going to sleep again," and so saying she leant back and closed her +eyes. + +And after a few minutes Clodagh followed her example, though she was no +longer sleepy. But something--a vague feeling of slight shyness--made +her do so, for she was conscious of her opposite neighbour's scrutiny. +Now and then from the depths of the quaint black bonnet she caught the +gleam of dark bright eyes, and the sensation caused her cheeks to grow +pink again. + +"Who and what can she be?" the girl said to herself. "She certainly +looks like a peasant, but her voice--her expressions--her dignity belie +it," and thus puzzling over the anomaly, Clodagh after all fell asleep. + +Now I must mention what may seem strange and most improbable. You will +remember the description given to the young traveller only an hour or +two before the coach stopped at the turnpike, of the old lady in the +neighbourhood, concerning whom such curious and even uncanny things were +said? + +Yes--well, this is the strange fact. Though Clodagh was at once +impressed in an unusual way by the personality of their +fellow-traveller, and perplexed to explain her inconsistencies, never +once during the day's journey did it occur to her to put "two and two +together"; to guess, as no doubt you, children, who are reading this +little old story, will already have done, that here in person was the +mysterious lady of the landlady's legend--the being who, if not actually +of fairy race herself, still had much in common with the "good people," +and doubtless dealings with them. + +But so it happened with Clodagh, and afterwards--not a long-delayed +afterwards either, as you will hear--she felt quite unable to explain +her own forgetfulness, or "stupidity" as she called it. + +In the meantime what occurred was this. She slept and Paulina slept on +uninterruptedly till the coach drew up at Oddingstowe. And when it did +so, and the clatter over the cobble-stones of the old inn's courtyard +aroused them, lo and behold, they were alone! The strange new-comer had +disappeared. The whole episode might have been a dream, only that +rarely, if ever, do any two people dream the same and at the same time. + +Paulina stared. + +"She's gone," she exclaimed. + +"Yes," said her cousin, feeling very much inclined to add, "You needn't +have been so rude to her." + +"I never felt or heard the coach stop to let her get out," added the +elder girl. + +"Nor did I," said Clodagh, "only----" + +"Only what?" + +"Nothing. I was dreaming, I suppose. But I have a misty recollection of +hearing some one say, almost in a whisper, 'Good-bye for the present, my +dear. We shall meet again.'" + +"I hope not," said Paulina, with a slight shudder. "Clodagh, you don't +think possibly she's a witch?" + +Clodagh's spirit of mischief inclined her to frighten her cousin a +little, but she refrained. + +"No, of course not," she replied. "She's a very polite and harmless old +woman, though, no doubt, there did seem something rather odd--mysterious +almost--about her. But if I may say it, Paulina, I think, in travelling +especially, it is best to be so--polite I mean--to everybody one is +thrown into contact with." + +Paulina muttered something which sounded like "rubbish" or "nonsense," +but aloud she only said snappishly, "You know nothing about travelling, +child. One has to keep up one's dignity." + +"There is a good way and a bad way of doing so," thought the younger +girl, though she said nothing more. She was relieved, however, to see +that her cousin was not really vexed with her, for she had spoken +impulsively, forgetting that it was scarcely her place to reprove +Paulina, all things considered. + +"I think she is really gentler and kinder than she sometimes appears," +Clodagh's reflections went on. "I fancy I shall be able to get on with +her if I am patient, and if I try my best. The only thing I am depressed +about is the luggage! I don't know _how_ to get my own things into +smaller compass, and when it comes to all her belongings too, I don't +see my way at all. I am so afraid of losing any of her beautiful +clothes, and no doubt she has valuable jewellery too, and she is very +changeable in her plans. Lady Roseley warned me that sometimes I should +have to pack and unpack at very short notice indeed!" and she could not +help sighing a little. But Paulina did not observe it, for by this time, +as I said, they were at Oddingstowe, the small town where they were to +stop to change horses and to have some early dinner, of which the elder +girl declared that she felt much in need. + +An hour later they started again, to Paulina's satisfaction no other +inside passenger appearing. A short though heavy thunder shower had +somewhat cleared the air, the simple meal had refreshed them, and +Paulina seemed quite to have recovered her good-temper. She grew +talkative. + +"Have you ever heard of the Marristons?" she asked. "My friends at the +Priory, you know, where we are to spend a few days." + +Clodagh shook her head. + +"No," she replied. "You said in your last letter that you had a visit to +pay on your way to the place where you intend to drink the waters, but +you did not mention any names." + +"Didn't I?" said Paulina carelessly. "Oh well, I'm not good at +letter-writing. They're very nice people, and very kind. You needn't +feel shy about going there," for Clodagh's manner and rising colour had +already shown that shy she was. "It won't be a large party, as they are +quite alone just now; just the father and mother, elderly people, their +married son and his wife and two daughters, older than you and I." +Paulina rather liked to make herself out younger than she was, when it +suited her, though at other times she treated her cousin as if she were +a complete child. + +"I am glad of that," Clodagh replied. "Then," she went on, somewhat +nervously, "perhaps you won't wear your very best dresses there, or +shall I take out everything?" for this terrifying question of packing +and unpacking was still uppermost in her mind. + +"Oh dear me!" exclaimed Paulina crossly, "perhaps not. How can I say? +You'll just have to see. That's what I want you for--to use your +intelligence; don't you understand? I hate being asked about every +trifle." Then, feeling that she had been speaking irritably, she went on +more kindly: "I suppose you've got some tidy gowns of your own--your +granny liked you to look nice, I know." + +"I haven't got any proper evening gowns," said Clodagh. "I used to wear +simple white muslin--not grown-up gowns, you know, but since grandmother +died I've only had black." + +"Ah yes, of course," Paulina agreed. "Well, just wear your nicest black +in the evening. Your being in mourning will explain it's not being full +dress. When we get to St. Aidan's"--the place where she intended to +drink the waters--"I'll see about some gowns for you. I hear that the +shops there are quite modish." + +"Thank you," said Clodagh gratefully. But in her heart she was thinking: +"Oh dear, if _I_'m to have more clothes, it will make the packing still +worse, and where am I to put them if Cousin Paulina complains already of +my luggage?" + +But no more was said on the subject just then, and before very long they +found themselves at Felway, where they left the coach, to complete the +rest of the day's journey in Squire Marriston's chariot, which was +awaiting them, as well as, to Paulina's satisfaction, a cart for their +voluminous belongings. + +The elder girl stepped into the roomy vehicle and glanced round her with +approval. + +"What a comfort to be less crowded up!" she exclaimed. "Clodagh, tell +them to put everything in the cart. Just give me my satin mantle--these +hot days sometimes end in chilly evenings--nothing else," and as her +cousin obeyed her, "You are sure nothing was left in the coach?" + +"Nothing," replied Clodagh confidently. "Still, I'll glance inside +again, to make quite sure," and she did so, for the stage-coach was +still there, waiting for fresh horses. + +She came back to report satisfactorily, and they set off. + +It was a longish drive, five or six miles, and the latter part through +rough roads and lanes which reminded Clodagh of her native land. + +"Thank goodness," said Paulina more than once, "that it is not winter +or very wet weather. We should stick fast in the mud in these +cart-tracks, to a certainty." + +But before long they reached the Priory, safe and sound, and as they +drove up the avenue, caught sight of two or three figures waiting to +welcome them in front of the picturesque old house. + +It was not a very large place, but home-like and attractive. Clodagh, +who was accustomed to huge rambling "castles," often in a more or less +dilapidated state, felt glad that this, the first English country-house +she had seen, was smaller and less imposing, and the kind greetings of +the Misses Marriston soon helped her to feel less shy and timid. It was +long before these modern days of "five o'clock teas," but then dinner +was proportionately early, and when the new-comers had shaken hands with +the rest of the family, assembled in the hall to welcome them, Annot +Marriston, the younger of the daughters and Paulina's special friend, +proposed that the cousins should at once go up to their rooms. + +"You will be glad to take off your travelling things," she said, "and +dinner will be ready in less than an hour." + +At this, Paulina's face fell, and Clodagh looked rather blank. For by +this time they were standing in the spacious and comfortable +guest-chamber prepared for the former, out of which opened a smaller but +pleasant little room for her young cousin companion. But in neither, +naturally enough, was there as yet any sign of their belongings. + +"Dinner in less than an hour!" exclaimed Paulina; "and how am I to +change my dress? I suppose, my dear Annot, the luggage-cart won't be +here in time?" + +Miss Annot shook her head. + +"Not for an hour or nearly that, I fear," she replied. "It comes slowly. +But there is room on the chariot for a box or two. I wish I had told the +men to mention this, and then you could have brought on with you +whatever you needed at once." + +Paulina looked extremely annoyed. + +"Clodagh," she said sharply, "you really might have thought of it." + +Clodagh looked and felt guilty. + +"I will do so another time," she murmured. + +Annot felt sorry for her. + +"I'll run down and enquire about the cart," she said. "Possibly it may +not take as long as I said," and she was hastening off when Paulina +stopped her, for she had sufficient good sense and feeling not to wish +to begin their visit by a scene of ill-temper. + +"After all," she said, "it does not very much matter, my dear Annot, if +you all will kindly excuse our enforced _deshabille_, as I understand +you are quite alone--just your own family party." + +Annot hesitated a little. + +"Ye-es," she replied. "Certainly only a family party. But I was just +going to tell you that Cousin Felicity has arrived unexpectedly. She had +retired to her own apartment before you drove up. That is her way, you +know. She swoops down upon us without the slightest warning and off +again in the same way." + +"How very disagreeable!" ejaculated Paulina, but Miss Marriston hastened +to correct her. + +"No," she said, "on the contrary, we are always very pleased to see her. +She is a most interesting person and has travelled immensely. At the +same time, I confess that we are somewhat in awe of her, and always +behave to her with the greatest deference and respect. She is a strange +mixture. Sometimes she goes about like an old peasant or gipsy--no one +knows how old she really is! But on occasions, always at dinner for +instance, she dresses magnificently--her diamonds are a sight to see! +That was why I hesitated just now, for I should have liked you to be in +correct attire. I will just ask about the cart," and off she went, to +return in a minute or two with the cheering information that there was +every chance of the luggage arriving in about half an hour. + +"And in the meantime," she said, "let me lend you brushes and combs, or +whatever will help you to begin your toilet." + +"Oh pray do so," said Clodagh gratefully. "Cousin Paulina, I am at least +sure that I can arrange your hair so as to please you. I have really +practised hair-dressing. I have so much of my own." + +"Well, then," said Paulina, when kind Annot returned with the promised +articles, "you may as well set to at once," and she proceeded to take +off her hat and veil and other things. "I don't think I ever heard of +this eccentric relative of yours before," she went on, turning to her +friend. "She must be quite a character." + +"That she is," was the reply. "I wonder I never told you about her. +Mother is not sure that she really is a cousin, but she likes us to call +her so. The relationship must be very distant, dating back to former +generations, for both my parents remember her as an old lady when they +were only children." + +Here Clodagh gave a little exclamation. Annot stopped politely. + +"Did you speak?" she said. + +Clodagh blushed, as she often did. + +"I beg your pardon," she replied. "I don't know what I meant. It +suddenly struck me that I had already heard of some one like your +cousin, so very old that no one living could remember the person, +whoever it was, as anything but old. It is curious," she went on +dreamily, "that I cannot recall where I heard it," for even then no +remembrance of the landlady's mysterious description awoke in her mind. + +"Well, what does it matter?" said Paulina sharply. "Don't worry about it +when you are doing my hair. You gave it such a tug just now when you +started so." + +"I'm very sorry," said the girl, and she gave her whole attention to the +work in hand, as to which she was really skilful. + +Then Annot left them, repeating her hopes that the luggage would not be +long of coming. "I quite think it may," she said, "for they took a good +strong horse in the cart--not one of the ponies only." + +But time went on. Paulina's "coiffure" was completed, happily to her +satisfaction; the hands of the clock were fast approaching the +dinner-hour, and no sign of the longed-for arrival. + +"Only twenty minutes now," said Paulina. "Really I have never been so +awkwardly placed before. I must say, Clodagh, I do think----" But these +thoughts were destined to remain unrevealed, for at that moment there +came portentous but most welcome sounds in the corridor outside the +room, and in another moment a servant tapped at the door, and entering, +requested the ladies kindly to direct the placing of the boxes. + +Clodagh hurried out. + +"All of yours had better be brought in here, I suppose, cousin?" she +asked as she went. + +"Of course, but not yet," Paulina exclaimed. "What are you thinking of, +child? First of all I must get dressed. My black lace will be the +quickest for to-night. It is in the brown leather imperial. Have that +brought in, and--and the large despatch-box, and the rest can wait till +we go downstairs." + +The first-named case was carried to its place, and Paulina was busy +selecting the key when Clodagh ran in with a startled face. + +"Cousin," she exclaimed, "the despatch-box is not there!" + +Paulina gave a shriek. + +"Impossible--and with all my jewellery! Clodagh, you vowed that you saw +everything off the coach, and I vow that I saw it lifted inside when I +started." + +"I did, I did see that everything was brought out," exclaimed Clodagh, +now on the point of tears, when luckily, oh the relief of it, a highly +respectable functionary in irreproachable attire appeared at the end of +the passage, carrying with his own majestic hands the missing case. + +"I have brought this myself, Madam," he said, addressing Paulina, "to +see it delivered into your personal keeping, surmising that it was of +importance." + +"Oh thank you, thank you a thousand times," cried the younger girl +impulsively in her joy, forgetting that she was not the person to reply, +till her cousin, with a condescending gesture, answered stiffly: "I am +obliged to you. You are quite right. The contents are of great value, +and but for carelessness," with a glance at Clodagh, "the case should +have come with ourselves in the chariot. It is not the kind of thing to +be sent in a cart." + +The butler, for such he was, bowed in reply. + +"Exactly so," he said. "Another time I should advise----" + +"Yes, yes," Clodagh interrupted. "I know it was my fault, but I shall +understand better in future. Paulina, do make haste. I have got your +dress out. We will be as quick as possible," she added, turning to the +butler, who took the hint and with another bow his departure also. + +And in an incredibly short time, thanks to Clodagh, whose eagerness +seemed to give her two or three pairs of hands instead of one, the elder +girl was attired, jewellery and all. She looked very handsome, and her +young companion stepped back a step or two to admire her. + +"Yes," said Paulina, glancing at the mirror with complacency, "I think I +look all right. You're not half a bad maid, child, or let us say----" + +"Never mind, if you're pleased, I don't care what I'm called," Clodagh +interrupted. "If only," she added, with a little sigh, "if only I can +learn about the luggage, the packing and unpacking and not losing +things." + +She opened the door as she spoke for her cousin to pass out, and for the +first time, as she stood there, the colour of excitement in her face and +the sparkle in her eyes, it struck Paulina that the "child," as she +called her with half-contemptuous affection, was fast becoming a very +pretty creature, and with this came a sudden flash of self-reproach, for +there was nothing consciously selfish or small-minded about the elder +girl, spoilt and self-willed and autocratic as she was. + +She stopped short with a gesture of horror. + +"What have I been thinking of?" she exclaimed, "and you yourself, +Clodagh? You're not dressed--you've not begun to dress, and the +dinner-hour already or almost. Why didn't you remind me that you had to +get ready too?" + +Clodagh smiled. + +"I really don't think it matters," she said. "I haven't got a proper +grown-up gown to begin with, and really there wasn't time to get out my +things too. I'm sure Mrs. Marriston will understand, and I daresay I can +have a little dinner sent up to me, if you----" + +But she stopped short, for just then Annot came running along the +passage towards them. "Can I----?" she was beginning, when, glancing at +them and the confusion of boxes and bags lying about, she saw that there +was something the matter. Paulina rapidly explained, and "Need I come +down?" pleaded Clodagh. + +"If she doesn't," persisted her cousin, "it will put everything wrong. +It will look as if--as if--you know, Annot, I want her to be considered +a sort of younger sister of mine. We _are_ near relations. Clodagh, you +don't want me to seem selfish and unkind." + +Miss Annot considered. + +"After all," she said, "Clodagh--may I call you so?--is scarcely +grown-up, and being in mourning too. If you just arrange your hair a +little, though really it does not look bad--it is so bright and +wavy--and--let me see, I can lend you a pretty simple fichu--over your +plain black bodice it will look rather well. Come with me--my room is +close at hand." + +And in two or three minutes they returned to where Paulina was anxiously +awaiting them--Clodagh looking quite fresh and sweet in the half +Puritan-like garb, with a bow of black velvet in her hair and a bunch of +violets as a breast-knot. + +"Yes," thought her cousin, "she's going to be quite a beauty. I must +get her some proper clothes, but"--as her eye fell on the confused pile +of their possessions beside her--"I don't know how ever she will manage +all this, and yet I can't go about with a maid as well! I do hope for +her sake as well as my own that I haven't been rash in this plan." + +But she smiled pleasantly enough as she thanked Annot for her kind +offices, and then the three made their way downstairs together. + +The drawing-room, or "long parlour" as the Marristons called it, +deserved the latter name, for long it was. In fact it had originally +been two if not three rooms, of which the end one was the most +important, as it was considerably wider than the other part. It was the +"saloon" of the house, where on more formal occasions the family +received their guests, though in an ordinary way their manners and +customs, as was the case in those days, while by no means "free and +easy," were simple and homely enough. + +But a visit from Cousin Felicity, however sudden and unexpected, at once +necessitated gala gowns; the opening of the "withdrawing-room"; longer +and more ceremonious meals, and all things in accordance with what the +strange guest considered due to her. + +For the time being the upset concerning the luggage and the consequent +hurry had caused both the new-comers to forget all about their +fellow-visitor, and it was with no preoccupation of mind concerning her +that Paulina and Clodagh, escorted by Annot, made their way down the +long room, to where at the end the members of the family group, whose +greetings they had already received, were awaiting them. As they drew +near, their hostess approached. + +"You have made good speed, dear Miss Paulina," she said kindly, "dinner +is not yet announced. In the meantime allow me to introduce you to our +esteemed friend and relative, whose visit has happily coincided with +your own," and she took the young lady's hand and led her towards a +large chair of state covered with magnificent brocade, on one side of +the fireplace, in which sat a small figure--small, but for that very +reason perhaps among others--so startling was the contrast with its +costly attire and with its extraordinary dignity and stateliness--the +very reverse of insignificant or unnoticeable. + +Paulina half unconsciously drew back a little, slightly turning away. +She was naturally of a haughty disposition, added to which, adulation +and flattery had helped to spoil her, and at once she felt annoyed at +being led forward like a child, to be presented to a complete stranger, +and this disagreeable sensation was increased by the fact that the +figure in the great chair remained motionless--motionless and mute. The +small lady might have been a statue or a wax doll. But in spite of +herself something made Paulina look straight at "Cousin Felicity," and +now that she saw her at close quarters, the splendour of her jewels, the +priceless lace in which she was draped, almost took away the younger +woman's breath. She half gasped--and then, feeling her eyes caught and +held as it were by the strange power of the piercing black ones, +gleaming in the midst of the colourless little old face, Paulina, +mistress of her emotions as she prided herself on being, Paulina, to +whom timidity and shyness were unknown, felt her cheeks crimson, and +hardly realising what she was doing, she curtseyed low and +deferentially. + +"Though, after all," as she said to herself a minute or two later, when +she had recovered her usual, somewhat arrogant self-possession, "after +all, hateful old cat though she is, she is an aged woman--too old to +act these ridiculous travesties--and I hope I know what good breeding +demands of politeness to our elders." + +For, as this mention of her later reflections shows, Paulina was by no +means as yet out of the wood. + +The ancient lady held out her glittering hand. + +"Does she expect me to kiss it?" the girl asked herself, when, to her +horror, came a reply to the unspoken query. + +"No," said Cousin Felicity, as she touched the tips of Paulina's now +extended fingers, "no," and this was the first word she had uttered, +"she does not. But what she sets far before curtseys and deference to +fine clothes and diamonds is respectful behaviour to the poor and aged. +How about the old peasant who presumed to intrude upon you this +morning?" + +Then Paulina knew, and she shivered. But her courage was good. "It was +not only what you think, Madam," she replied, "you do me scarce justice. +I desire to show respect to age. This morning I was taken aback. I was +so newly roused." + +Cousin Felicity bent her head, as if in royal pardon, though she did not +speak, and Paulina turning quickly, was glad to catch hold of Annot, +who with some of the others had drawn near in curiosity, though this was +tempered by their familiarity with the strange old dame's eccentricity. + +"You have met before?" Annot whispered. "She often frightens people at +first," for she felt that her friend was trembling. + +"I am not frightened," returned Paulina in the same tone. "I was only +startled and--rather angry. I had forgotten all about what you told us. +I will explain afterwards. I don't think people--especially old +ladies--should play tricks to catch others." + +Annot smiled, but she herself looked nervous. + +"Dear Paulina," she pleaded, "for goodness sake, don't be angry. I told +you she was not to be counted in any way as an ordinary person. Don't +frown so. She may see it--oh no, she is now occupied with Clodagh. Just +watch." + +For by this time it was the younger girl's turn to be led up to the +great armchair. + +She had been standing a little in the background, standing there +dreamily, as if she were trying to remember something. But she did not +seem timid or shy when at a touch on the arm from her hostess she came +quietly forward, her sweet Irish blue eyes, looking almost black under +their long lashes, lifted with a sort of gentle, half-bewildered +enquiry, as she drew near to the formidable little old lady. + +And for the first time, as the keen, piercing glance of this redoubtable +personage fell upon the young girl, a smile, softening the hard +expression and marvellously rejuvenating the small dried-up features, +crept over Cousin Felicity's face. + +"Welcome, my dear," she said, as she held out her hand in an inviting +though yet regal manner, and Clodagh, feeling, she knew not why, +impelled to do so, stooped and kissed it gently and respectfully. + +[Illustration: Stooped and kissed it gently and respectfully.] + +"Thank goodness," murmured such of the family as were near enough to +watch the small drama, "thank goodness, she has taken a fancy to the +child, and Clodagh is much more tactful than Paulina," for in their +heart both Mrs. Marriston and her daughters had been trembling, +especially since the reproof which the elder girl had received. + +"I am glad to thank you for your courtesy to a lonely and homely old +fellow-traveller this morning," Cousin Felicity continued, and then +Clodagh's grave face brightened and a touch of colour came into it. She +had scarcely overheard what had passed between Paulina and the aged +guest, or rather perhaps she had been in too absent a mood to take it +in. But now a look of relief spread over her, and she answered in her +usual frank and simple way. + +"Oh!" she said, "I am so glad you got here comfortably. I think we had +both fallen asleep at the time you left the coach, and I--I was so sorry +not to have been of any service to you--I had no idea we were bound for +the same place," she added, with a little smile of surprise. + +"Naturally," Cousin Felicity replied; "that is why I so fully appreciate +your courtesy." And she gave an odd though not disagreeable little laugh +as she went on: "I hope you lost none of your goods and chattels on the +way? You seemed to be somewhat overburdened." + +Clodagh drew still nearer to the old lady. + +"Yes, indeed," she said. "I am not surprised at your noticing it." +Paulina was not near enough to overhear, "We have a terrible number of +packages," and her face grew anxious at the remembrance. "It was that, +partly, that made my cousin seem so cross," she went on, lowering her +voice. "We were so crowded up. And I am so unused to travelling. I don't +know how I shall manage. Paulina is so kind to me, and of course I must +learn to be of real use to her." + +The elder Miss Marriston, Thomasine by name, was standing near. She +smiled at Clodagh's sudden, almost childish outburst of +confidence--afterwards Clodagh felt at a loss to explain it to herself, +for as a rule she was by no means a chatterbox--and remarked, though +with a touch of deferential apology in her tone: + +"Our Cousin Felicity is the genius of travelling in person. If she would +teach you some of her experience, Miss Clodagh, you would indeed be +fortunate. We always do say, you know, dear cousin, that you manage as +if by magic." + +The old lady smiled. She did not seem ill-pleased. + +"Yes," said Clodagh, glancing almost with reverence at the exquisite +yellowish lace, of cobweb-like texture, draping its owner's skirt, "to +see all these lovely treasures of attire, one wonders how it can be so +quickly arranged and re-arranged--and packed! For, as far as I remember, +Madam, you carried but little with you." + +Cousin Felicity smiled again. + +"You are right," she said. "I detest encumbrances. I travel with the +smallest amount of luggage possible. Not that this lace would add to +it----" and she passed her jewelled fingers over it fondly. "All I am +wearing could go through a wedding ring. It belonged to my--ah, well, we +need not say how far back among my ancestors it dates from." + +"It was made in fairyland, I believe," murmured Clodagh, and then there +stole across her memory some of the old tales and sayings she had heard +in her nursery--how that the "good folk," the "little people," reckon +not age and time as we do--that five centuries is in fairyland but as +five years, if that, to us. And the story of little Bridget, whose human +life ebbed out "between the dawn and morrow," poor little Bridget! +recurred to her with a slight shiver. It must have shown in her eyes as +she raised them again to her new friend's strange face. But what she +read there reassured her in some mysterious way, and then, as if a door +or window had suddenly opened in her mind, there flashed into her +remembrance all that the landlady of the old inn had told her that very +morning about the mysterious and fitful lady in the neighbourhood. + +"It is she herself," thought Clodagh. "How extraordinary that I did not +guess it before! But, fairy or no fairy, she wishes me nothing but +good," and a sweet, grateful smile lighted up the young girl's face, +chasing away the first vague misgivings. + +"Yes," came in a very soft whisper to her ears, "yes, my dear, you know +something about me, and before we part we must have some talk together," +but to this there was no time for her to reply, as at that moment dinner +was announced and the elder Mr. Marriston came forward to offer his arm +to the venerable guest. + +Somehow, though she found herself for the first time in her life among +strangers, Clodagh did not feel shy or ill at ease. She had an +underlying consciousness that she was kindly regarded, for her own sake +as well as to please her cousin. Paulina, who by this time had regained +her self-possession, was gentler than her wont, and did not speak much. +Indeed, though all passed pleasantly there was an indefinite feeling of +formality and ceremony not usual in the cheerful and friendly family +group. + +"It is not half as lively and amusing with that old----" "cat," Paulina +was probably going to say but for a "hush" from Clodagh, for it was to +her young cousin she was whispering on their way to the drawing-room. +"Well--with _her_ here," she continued. "They are all so desperately in +awe of her, I can't understand it." + +"But do be careful," urged Clodagh. "She may overhear, and you really +should be polite and respectful. As you say yourself, age alone demands +it." + +"I'm not going to be rude," Paulina replied, and she meant what she +said, though in her heart she had not forgiven the reproof she had +received, especially as she knew she had deserved it. But just as they +were entering the long parlour, Clodagh stopped her. + +"Cousin," she said, "I cannot rest with the thought of all our +things--yours especially--in such confusion upstairs. Will you allow me +to go to our rooms now and arrange them, partly at least? I am sure Mrs. +Marriston and her daughters will excuse me, if you explain to them." + +Paulina hesitated. She had a horror of seeming to treat her young +relation as an inferior, and yet she saw that it would really be kinder +to agree. Just then Thomasine came up to them, and on Paulina's putting +the question to her she took Clodagh's part. + +"Yes," she said, "I think it would be far better than for this child to +stay down till late, and then probably not get to bed for ever so +long." For the Marristons fully understood the position. So Clodagh, +much relieved, bade Thomasine a cheerful good-night and ran off. + +She worked hard--unpacking, separating, to some extent packing again, +for the weather was very hot and she knew that certain clothes could not +possibly be required during the few days of their stay at the Priory. +She was quick and intelligent and sensible, still she was very young and +her task was not an easy one, and but for her extreme anxiety to be of +real use to her cousin, she would almost have despaired of managing it. + +"But it would never do for me to lose heart at the first start," she +said to herself, "and of course, unless I prove fit for the post, +Paulina could not afford to keep me with her, as Lady Roseley explained. +For she is not _very_ rich, and it is such a blessing to be with her +instead of with strangers who knew nothing about me except that I was +poor and homeless." + +So she cheered up and worked on bravely. The evenings were long, for it +was barely past midsummer, and the dinner had been early, so she had +time enough to arrange her cousin's belongings, though she had scarcely +touched her own, when Paulina made her appearance yawning and wishing +herself in bed. + +"Good gracious, child!" she exclaimed, as she caught sight of Clodagh, +"are you at it still? Why, I expected to find you undressed at least, if +not in bed. But I must say you seem to have a head on your shoulders. My +things look most methodically arranged. And how about your own?" + +"Oh," said Clodagh, much pleased, in spite of feeling very sleepy and +tired, "I shall soon get them done. I will not make any noise if you go +to bed now, but I should like to feel things were tidy before----" + +But Paulina interrupted her. + +"Nonsense," she said. "I insist on your going to bed yourself. Just get +out what is absolutely necessary. You can finish in the morning, and +remember," she went on, for she was standing with the door open, and the +corridor was still encumbered, "remember to ask the servants to pile up +or carry away some of these boxes. One can scarcely get in and out of +the rooms. I wish your luggage were a little more concentrated. You have +such a number of small cases and bags." + +"Yes," Clodagh agreed. "You see I have never travelled any distance till +now," and she eyed her goods and chattels somewhat disconsolately. + +"We must arrange about it," said Paulina vaguely. "But now, get to bed +quickly," and after all, Clodagh felt that she really was getting too +sleepy to do more than was unavoidable, and in a short time both girls +were fast asleep, Clodagh's last waking thought being a resolve to get +up very early indeed to complete her arrangements. + +"I wish I could have got it all done to-night, but anyway the confusion +outside could not be cleared till to-morrow." + +She was tired and she slept soundly, still not quite dreamlessly. One +very queer experience she had, and even when she was wide-awake, and +daylight streaming in, she could not make up her mind if it had been +dream or reality. + +This was it, "and," she said to herself, "I am almost certain I was +awake." + +It was midsummer weather, as I said, so the window was wide open, and +suddenly through the silence Clodagh heard a familiar sound. It was that +of bees humming. It grew nearer and nearer, and opening her eyes--or +dreaming that she did so--she looked up. The room was flooded with +moonlight, and in it she perceived the source of the sound. Two large +bees were buzzing about, very busy apparently, but as there were no +flowers on the table or mantelpiece, Clodagh wondered sleepily what +could have attracted them. + +"I hope they won't sting me," she thought, for the humming grew nearer, +and then, strange to say, out of it gradually soft-whispering words +shaped themselves. + +"Don't wake her, whatever you do," said one bee. "She is fast asleep and +we must obey orders." + +"But we can't help humming," murmured the other. + +"Well, hum gently. It will soothe her, and let us set to work, for there +is plenty to do before daylight." + +That was all she heard, and soothe her the sound must have done, for she +knew nothing more till she really and unmistakably awoke, to see the +sunshine--the lovely, clear early summer morning sunshine--pouring in, +to hear the dear birds welcoming another happy beautiful day. + +Clodagh started up. She had never felt fresher or brighter; all last +night's tiredness had gone. She was used to early rising, and felt that +to stay lazily in bed was impossible. + +"It would be delicious out-of-doors," she thought, "but I _must_ finish +the tidying and sorting, if possible before Paulina awakes," and she +sprang out of bed. + +But--she rubbed her eyes--was she dreaming? The cupboards, of which +there were two in the old-fashioned room, the roomy chest of drawers, +all stood open, as if to exhibit their contents and demand approval, and +in them were arranged with the perfection of neatness and judiciousness +all her possessions, last night in disorder and barely unpacked. And on +a chair lay her garments for the day, not only those she had herself +placed there, but a spotless cool white gown--much cooler than the black +one she had travelled with--the very one she had been hoping to get out +and don that morning. + +"Have I done it all in my sleep?" she asked, and then some undefined +feeling made her open the door and peep out into the passage. Wonder of +wonders! All the confusion had disappeared. There stood there, in +dignified importance, two roomy, substantial trunks only, one of which +she recognised as her cousin's principal one, with her initials in small +brass nails on the lid, the other, similar in make and appearance, with +the first letters of her own two names marked in the same way. The very +sort of thing she had begun to long for since seeing Paulina's. + +She lifted the lid--a series of trays was disclosed, and examining +further, she perceived at the bottom, most beautifully folded, all her +own thicker clothing, gowns and woollens quite unsuitable for present +wear, and as she went on in breathless excitement to peer into her +cousin's, there was the same arrangement. The very garments she had +herself put aside for the present, the evening before, lay there +undisturbed, or rather, she suspected, far more exquisitely folded than +she had left them. And all the rest, the bandboxes and carpet-bags and +unbusiness-like odds and ends she had brought over the sea, had +disappeared, as if by magic. + +"And magic it is," she said to herself, for, as she stood there +listening, a clock in the distance struck five, not another sound or +rustle was to be heard. Not a soul was as yet astir in the old house. + +Clodagh danced back into her room. + +"The fairies are afield," she sang to herself softly. Never had she felt +so gay and light-hearted. "I shall dress and run out into the garden," +she thought. "There is nothing to keep me indoors. Everything is +safe"--for the heavy despatch-box she knew to be in Paulina's keeping. +"What will the servants think when they see it?" + +What they did think was that each thought the others had cleared away +the pile of the young ladies' luggage, leaving only what was required. +Or at least, as no questions were asked, no remarks made, they probably +thought so, if they thought about it at all! Perhaps their curiosity was +put to sleep by some uncanny though not maleficent influence. Who can +say? + +And in a very short time Clodagh was ready, and hat in hand, looking +like the very spirit of the morning in person, she ran downstairs to +find the old hall-porter sleepily unbarring the great door, though, +sleepy as he was, he could not restrain a smile of admiration and a +respectful "You be early about, Miss," to which she laughingly replied, +"Who could help it, once they were awake, on such a morning?" + +Yet another surprise awaited her, as you shall hear. + +The Priory grounds were fairly extensive and delightfully quaint. Great +laurel hedges, alternating with curiously high-clipped yews, and some +magnificent elms added to the impression of space, as well as to that +sort of pleasant "mystery" without which no garden is thoroughly +fascinating. + +"What a lovely place to explore!" said Clodagh to herself, as she turned +down one long shady path, streaked here and there with the early +sun-rays filtering through the foliage. Then a sound reached her ears, +which recalled her experience of the night before. It was the humming of +bees. She stood still for a moment to listen, feeling as if she were on +the confines of some enchanted region. Then slowly, treading very +softly, she went on. Yes--in a minute or two she saw at the end of the +path a huge beautiful beehive, its inhabitants flying in and out, +buzzing away, like the busy creatures they are. And in front of it stood +a quaint little figure, whom Clodagh this time had no difficulty in at +once recognising as the mysterious "Cousin Felicity" again. + +Her laces and diamonds of the evening before seemed a dream, though her +dress was dainty enough, much finer in quality than the very homely +attire in which Clodagh had first seen her. It was a gown of flowered +chintz, of the delicate colouring and excellent material that one now +and again finds treasured among family relics--such as "my +great-grandmother's" or even "great-great-grandmother's dresses." And +the skirt was drawn through the pocket-holes in the orthodox +old-fashioned way, showing the pink cotton petticoat and the neat little +high-heeled shoes. The whole figure, as she stood with her back to the +new-comer, was so trim and slim and youthful, that it gave almost a +shock to Clodagh when the little lady turned suddenly and she caught +sight of the tiny, withered, white face, surmounted by a kind of mob +cap, from beneath which escaped a few soft grey curls. Yet it was +evident that Cousin Felicity was in very good health and spirits, for +she smiled beamingly as she accosted the young girl. + +"The top of the morning to you, my dear," she said. "That's your +national greeting, is it not? I knew you were not a lie-abed. Well, and +how wags the world with you? I have been visiting my friends here, you +see. We understand each other, these clever little creatures and I," and +she fixed her bright eyes on Clodagh. + +For a moment or two Clodagh stood silent. Then a smile broke over her +face. + +"Madam, lady, what shall I call you?" she exclaimed. "I must say it. I +know the truth. You _are_ a fairy. It is you I have to thank for what +has been done to help me in the night!" + +"Call me what you please, my dear, when we are alone," said the old +lady, "but keep what you know, or suspect--rather more than the actual +fact, by the bye," she added--"keep it to yourself. I know you are +discreet, otherwise I could not be of service to you as I intend to be. +Now tell me, child, what are your troubles or anxieties, for some I know +you have----" + +"I don't feel as if I had any at all this morning," Clodagh interrupted +laughingly. + +"Ah, well--so much the better, it shows a healthy nature," was the +reply. "But, tell me, is that very autocratic young woman, your cousin, +good to you? Are you happy to be with her?" + +"Yes, yes, truly I am," Clodagh replied eagerly. "That is to say, I feel +sure I am going to be so. You see we only met again yesterday, after not +having seen each other for several years, not since I have been +grown-up. But I must explain. Paulina is very kind. I am sorry she was +rude to you yesterday. She was sorry herself afterwards, but she is only +quick-tempered and spoilt. She has a kind heart. When my dear +grandmother died I should have been homeless, forced to earn my living +with strangers, but for her," and by this time Clodagh's eyes were +filled with tears. + +Cousin Felicity nodded her head slowly, and in a moment or two she spoke +again. + +"Did you love your Irish home very dearly?" she asked. + +"Did I? _Do_ I, rather," the girl replied. "Oh, dear lady, I adore it! +But it is mine no longer. It belongs to strangers, it is best for me not +to think of it; though I have known all my life that I should have to +leave it when Granny left me, I don't think I realised it. That is why I +am glad to travel. It is interesting, and takes my thoughts off, to see +new places and people. I am glad that Paulina travels so much, if +only----" and here she gave a deep sigh. + +"Ah, ha," cried the little old lady, but though slightly mocking, her +tone was not the least unkindly, "now we are getting to your troubles. +What is that deep sigh about?" + +"It's my fear that I can't manage things properly for Paulina," said +Clodagh, "and if so, I must leave her. She is not _very_ rich. She can't +afford to buy me pretty gowns and things, as she means to do, if I +cannot save her having a maid. She cannot take two about with her. Oh, +it's the luggage! Do you know, yesterday I thought I had lost her +jewellery--I'll never forget my horror!" + +"Would you like to know how _I_ travel? Shall I show you?" said her new +friend. + +Clodagh looked at her wonderingly. + +"Indeed I would," she said. "But then," she went on, "though I am afraid +you do not like me to say it, I _know_ you are a----" + +"S-sh. Never mind about that. Come with me," was the reply. + +It was still very early. No one was about. Cousin Felicity took the +girl's hand and turned to re-enter the house by a different way from +that by which Clodagh had come. But before doing so, she stopped a +moment and waved her tiny hand as if in adieu to the beehive. + +"Thanks many," her companion heard her murmur. "You did your work well +last night," and to Clodagh she went on, with a twinkle in her bright +eyes, "Were you pleased with what you found this morning--the new trunk +and all?" + +"Pleased!" exclaimed the girl rapturously, "I couldn't believe my eyes. +Not that I mind work," she went on, "I think I can soon learn to pack +and unpack cleverly. It is the responsibility of all the things, the +terror of losing them, that distresses me." + +"Yes, yes," said her friend, "I understand. I do not mean to do all your +work for you. It is the industrious and active, not the idle and lazy, +that"--and here she gave her funny twinkling smile again--"that _they_ +help, as all the stories you have heard over the sea always tell. You +shall see what I can do, and what you must do yourself." + +By this time they had reached a side entrance to the house. The door +stood open; a small staircase faced them, up which with wonderful +quickness, considering her great age, Cousin Felicity sprang, followed +by Clodagh, and crossing a landing, opened the door of a room, inviting +the girl to enter with her. + +It was a pleasant room; the first impression it made on Clodagh was of +whiteness--and exquisite neatness. It matched the little old lady to +perfection. + +"This is where I always am, when I visit these kind people," she said. +"No one ever has this room but myself. And," she went on in a low voice +as if speaking to herself, "who, if I tried to tell it, would believe +for how many generations it has been appropriated to me?" + +Clodagh felt a thrill of awe as she caught the mysterious words. But in +another moment Cousin Felicity had turned to her briskly, pointing to a +neat, good-sized trunk standing in front of the fireplace. + +"That is all _my_ luggage," she announced. "It holds more than Paulina's +fine lady's maid would have got into half-a-dozen like it, because _I_ +know how to pack. But--look at it well." + +Clodagh stared at it obediently. + +"Shut your eyes." She did so. Then it seemed to her that she heard a +murmur of words. + +"Open." Clodagh again obeyed. And this time, stare she did, for--the box +was no longer there, it had vanished from view! + +She was too astonished to speak. + +"Hold out your hand," was the next command. + +Cousin Felicity laid something on the outstretched palm. Clodagh gazed +at it in amazement and admiration. It was a miniature trunk, evidently +of the finest make. Never had she seen such a perfect toy of its kind, +and it was an exact facsimile of her strange old friend's substantial +box, which a minute before had been standing in front of her in the most +matter-of-fact way. It was small--not above a couple of inches in +length, and half as much in width and depth, but curiously heavy. It +might almost have been a small block of lead, fashioned to represent a +Liliputian portmanteau, and still Clodagh stood there staring at it, +without speaking. + +"That is how _I_ travel," said the mysterious little lady at last. "It +contains all my belongings, just as I told you the other--or rather +itself in its other proportions--does. See, I slip it in here," and she +held out the black hand-bag, or reticule, which the girl had noticed in +the coach, and taking the little box from Clodagh she did as she said, +"I draw the strings, I hang it over my arm," accompanying her +explanations by the appropriate actions, "and there I am, ready to +journey from one end of Europe to the other, or farther still, with no +anxiety." + +Her young protégée lifted her eyes. + +"It is too marvellous, too delightful for words!" she exclaimed. + +The little old lady smiled graciously. + +"I knew you would say so," she replied. "Well, now, I can extend this +magical power to you, on two conditions. You must keep the secret, +absolutely and entirely, and you must do your own work perfectly. There +must be no untidiness or hurry-scurry; you must never leave things +behind, or tear or crumple them--if so, your carelessness will bring its +own punishment, for it would prevent the spell's working, and even +I--fairy or witch as you think me----" + +"No, no," Clodagh interrupted eagerly, "not witch. You are too kind and +charming to be that." + +"Ah, well, we can leave aside the question of what or who I am. The +point is what I can _do_, and what I cannot. And counteract the working +or not working of the spell if the rules are broken, is beyond my +power." + +"But I _will_ keep them," exclaimed Clodagh. "That is to say, I will do +my very best to be most neat and methodical. Granny trained me to be +neat. And I will keep the secret; that I promise, _only_----" and her +face fell as a sudden idea disconcerted her. + +"What?" + +"If Paulina suspects anything? If she notices, and thinks there is +something strange about it all?" + +Cousin Felicity smiled. + +"I will see to that. You need not be afraid. If you fulfil your part, +you will have _no_ trouble, as regards Paulina or any one else. Come +now--I will go with you to your rooms to explain all, before any one is +about. But first--close your eyes for a moment. Yes----" and when +Clodagh opened them, there stood the trunk again, as she had first seen +it! + +She followed the old lady down a passage or two, and up some steps, till +at the end of the corridor she saw that they were in the part of the +house familiar to her. Cousin Felicity stopped in front of the two +trunks, Paulina's and Clodagh's new one, standing just outside the doors +of their rooms, and glanced at them approvingly. She was just going to +speak when the girl touched her on the arm. + +"I am afraid," she began timidly, "I am afraid that Paulina may be awake +by now, and if she heard us and looked out----?" + +Her friend nodded reassuringly. Then she noiselessly opened the door of +the sleeper's room and stepped in, Clodagh close behind her. It was +almost dark inside, for Paulina was not one of the people who like to +see the dawn gradually creeping up--she always had her blinds drawn +down. Still it was light enough for Clodagh to see the mysterious +visitor make her way, swiftly and soundlessly, to the side of the bed. +Then she stooped over the pretty face lying on the pillow, touched the +closed eyelids softly, murmuring something inaudible, then came back to +Clodagh waiting near the entrance and led the way outside again, closing +the door behind them. + +"_That_ is quite safe," she said, smiling. "Have no fears for the +present or the future. You will have no difficulties, I assure you. +Now--" and she stood before the two closed boxes. "See," she said, "and +listen. Whenever you have packed them neatly and perfectly, sure that +nothing is forgotten, you lock as usual, deposit the keys safely, then +stand in front of each in turn, touch the initials with your +fore-finger--you have each three, 'P. O'B.' and 'C. O'B.'--saying slowly +and clearly as you do so + + "One, two, three, + Dwindle, says Felicity. + +"Then close your eyes for a moment, and you will see--hold, I will show +you now. Shut your eyes." Clodagh did so. "Open." She obeyed, and there +in front of her lay, so small that at the first moment she scarcely +perceived them, two miniature editions of her own and Paulina's trunks, +brass nails, letters and all. + +"Feel them," said her companion. + +Clodagh stooped and picked them up, her eyes sparkling with eagerness. +They were heavy, certainly, but less so than the old lady's own one. + +"You have a hand-bag?" this personage enquired. + +"Oh yes," replied Clodagh, and in a moment she had fetched it. It held +the toy trunks perfectly. + +"Take them out again," came the order. + +"Now," her friend continued, "listen. When you reach your destination, +withdraw them from your reticule, place them wherever is most +convenient, touch the letters again, beginning with the last, and say +this time + + "Three, two, one, + Journey's done, + +and--all will be as you desire." + +She smiled as she spoke. + +"You may test it at once," she said. "Place them on the floor. Now----" + + "Three, two, one, + Journey's done," + +repeated Clodagh, touching the letters, as she did so, "B," the last, +first. Then she shut her eyes, and when she looked again--yes--there +they were, the two neat capacious trunks, as before. + +"Oh," she said, with a sigh of delight. "It is too good to be true! How +can I thank you?" + +But as she looked up, holding out her hands in gratitude, lo and +behold--Cousin Felicity had vanished. Glancing round quickly, however, +Clodagh fancied she saw a shadow of something disappearing at the turn +in the passage. Whether this was so or not, who can say? + +[Illustration: Lo and behold--Cousin Felicity had vanished.] + +"I will thank her again when we meet downstairs," thought the girl, +little imagining that this was not to be. + +Just then the door behind her opened, and Paulina, her eyes still but +half-awake, peeped out. + +"Oh, child," she said, "is it late? You up and dressed already! I must +hurry." + +"There is plenty of time," Clodagh replied. "It is still early." + +"How well and bright you look!" Paulina exclaimed. "You must have slept +well. So unlike my last travelling companion--that silly Pélagie--not of +course, dear, that I mean to compare you with a maid-servant--but the +airs she gave herself! She could never sleep the first night in a +strange place, nor the last, because she was nervous about the +pack----Oh," she broke off, "I see you've got rid of all the old bags +and bandboxes. What a good thing! I didn't know you had such a nice +sensible trunk, so neat, and just like mine." + +"Yes," said the young girl. "It really holds more than I require. I have +planned it all, Paulina. You shall never have any trouble about the +luggage if you will leave the whole to me." + +"I shall only be too thankful to do so," said her cousin lazily. "I +think you are a genius, my dear. The way you have arranged my dresses +and everything is simply perfection." + +Half an hour or so later, the two, summoned by the breakfast gong, made +their way downstairs, where most of the family were already assembled, +and as the others dropped in, Clodagh looked round eagerly for her +new-old friend. But come she did not, and after a short delay Mrs. +Marriston turned to her elder daughter. + +"Thomasine, my dear," she said. "I think you had better go upstairs to +enquire for Cousin Felicity and offer to escort her. I scarcely like to +begin breakfast without her, for fear of seeming to lack respect." + +For those old-fashioned days were very ceremonious and any want of +deference to the eccentric old lady was not to be thought of. Thomasine +went at once, but in a very few minutes returned alone, holding a scrap +of paper in her hand, looking somewhat disconcerted, though she was half +laughing also. + +"She has gone!" she exclaimed, "bag, baggage and all, leaving this." + +Mrs. Marriston took the paper eagerly. "Oh, _can_ we have offended her?" +she said anxiously, but a moment after, she too laughed. "No, I see it +is all right," she went on, reading aloud the note in her hand. + +"'Farewell for the present, kind friends,' it said. 'A sudden summons +to----'--no, I can't decipher the word--'cuts short my visit. Fare you +well, one and all.'" + +They looked at each other. Annot took the paper from her mother. "No," +she agreed, "I cannot read it. But we never do know where she goes or +how she goes! It may be Kamschatka or the moon." + +"Or fairyland," murmured Clodagh. + +"All the same," said Paulina, who, for her part, was by no means sorry +for the mysterious lady's flight, "it cannot but be rather trying to +have such a guest. She expects to be received with regal honours, and +then off she goes like 'old Mother Goose when she wanted to wander.'" + +The others laughed. + +"My dear Paulina," said Annot, "you are a _young_ 'Mother Goose' +yourself, with your love of travelling." + +"Quite so," Paulina agreed. "But you will allow that I give my +hospitable friends _some_ notice of my intentions. And, after all," she +added, "some day, when Clodagh and I have had enough of wandering, we +shall settle down, no doubt." + +"And, to do our late guest justice," said Mrs. Marriston, "erratic as +she is, her visits have never brought us anything but good luck. Her +crossing the threshold is always beneficent. This very morning we have +excellent news from India of our dear Humphrey, who, we heard by the +last mail, was seriously ill. He has quite recovered." + +She spoke of a younger son in the--in those days--_very_ far-off East. + +Clodagh had glanced up with quick interest when Paulina alluded to "some +day settling down." Her feelings at present were very mingled. She +scarcely understood them herself. She was ready keenly to enjoy the +novelty and exhilaration of travel, seeing new places and people, and +now that her one misgiving had been so marvellously removed, her spirits +rose high. But still--she had not yet been away a week from her own old +home, hers no longer, and already there were moments when, if she closed +her eyes, she saw in fancy the dear rugged walls of Grey Rocks--the +scene of her own and Paulina's childhood--and heard the splash of the +waves at the foot of the cliffs, and then she would feel the tears +creeping into her eyes, and she thought to herself, "I suppose it is +what is called 'home-sickness,' but I must not give way to it. If only I +could hope some day to go there again!" + +It was not a very ambitious hope, for Grey Rocks was but a small domain, +and had Clodagh's father lived it might have still been their own. + +In the meantime, however, she greatly enjoyed the stay at the Priory, +and every day she grew cleverer with regard to her duties. She practised +folding and arranging Paulina's many garments till she really reached +perfection, and she was so methodical and careful, yet never fussy or +overwhelmed, that Paulina declared she had never been so splendidly +looked after in her life. So far this was most satisfactory. Still, when +the week to which their visit had been extended drew to its close, it +must be confessed that Cousin Felicity's young protégée was not without +nervousness as to the working of the spell. + +"Suppose," she thought, "suppose I had dreamt it all!" But then her +glance fell on her own beautiful new trunk--"No, no," she added, "of +course it was real and true." + +And when the morning of their departure came, nothing could have +exceeded her care to remember everything. + +She waited till Paulina, fully attired for the journey, had gone +downstairs for a few last minutes with her hosts, then she rapidly +deposited the precious despatch-box in a corner of her own trunk, in +which there was still room; closed and locked both; recited as directed +the words of the spell, shut her eyes, and waited, as before. + +Yes--all was right. There lay the miniature luggage, and in another +moment both toy boxes were safe in her reticule, and with light feet and +a light heart she ran down to join the others, just as the chariot which +was to take them to the nearest posting-house drew up at the door. + +"Everything is ready," she said to Paulina. "I have seen to the +luggage," and Paulina nodded carelessly. + +"The ladies' things have gone on in a cart, I suppose?" asked one of the +Marristons. The dignified butler replied that he understood it had been +seen to, the truth being that he had not thought about it; and on his +side the old hall-porter took for granted that the housemaids had had it +conveyed down the back-stairs, that is to say if _he_ thought about it +at all! + +Anyway, as the mysterious lady had promised, so it fell out. Clodagh was +troubled with no enquiries, no interference. + +And arrived at St. Aidan's Wells, where they were to spend some weeks, +all continued satisfactory. Once, it must be confessed, on their way, +Clodagh had a fright. For they had to make two breaks in the long +journey, spending one night at each, and on the second occasion, after +Clodagh had closed and locked and repeated the spell, lo and behold, it +refused to act! She started in terror, then her eyes fell on her own +little slippers, which she had forgotten to pack. In a moment she had +repaired the mistake, and then--yes, all went as before. + +"But," said the girl to herself, "I must be _more_ than careful. For +possibly a second lapse on my part might not be forgiven." + +They remained at the watering-place for a month or two, then started off +again; this time for a lively seaside town where Paulina had arranged to +meet friends; then, as the autumn drew on, to country-houses in the +hunting districts, for the elder girl was a good horsewoman, as indeed +was Clodagh also. What true Irish girl is not? + +It was all very pleasant and exciting and the cousins enjoyed it, yet +sometimes Paulina declared herself tired and wishful for a rest, even +though her journeys were accomplished with the smallest possible +trouble. The variety of their visits called of course for constant +renewal of dresses and additions to them, but never did the two +spell-bound trunks seem too full, and every time she packed and +unpacked, Clodagh thought with inexpressible gratitude of the "fairy +lady," as to herself she called her, and her bestowal of the strange +secret. + +"But for her, I could not have managed," she often reflected. "I should +have had to give it up--it would not have been fair to Paulina, and then +where could I have gone, for home in my own country I have none? And oh, +how, through all the novelty and amusement and excitement of +travelling, in spite of the kindness I meet with, oh how I sometimes +long to be in dear grandmother's old turret room, listening to the faint +whirr of her spinning-wheel, and the louder sound of the waves breaking +on the cliffs below! I can feel the breeze that always blew in if the +casement in the deep window-seat was open; I can taste the salt flavour +of the spray that sometimes on stormy days flew up to where I sat! Oh +dear old home! I wonder if Paulina ever feels about it in the least as I +do?" and then she would fall to wishing that she could somehow earn +money enough to buy back the old "eyrie," and be its little châtelaine. +"How I would enjoy receiving Paulina, and making _her_ enjoy it!" + +But for these day-dreams she had not much leisure, and she knew that she +should not indulge in them. Still the longing was always there, and as +time went on it grew more persistent and intense. + +"It is just home-sickness," thought Clodagh, and she felt that she must +not give way to it. + +"I wish I could meet 'Cousin Felicity' again," she often said to +herself. "She was so wise. I am sure she would advise me how to keep +cheerful and content. And yet she must have understood, for I remember +her asking me if I loved my home very dearly." + +The weeks and months and almost the years--for one had fully gone, and +the second since Clodagh's arrival on this side of the water was well on +its way--passed, and then one day came little looked-for tidings. + +The cousins were just then again at St. Aidan's, which Paulina, who had +great faith in its waters, made a point of visiting once or twice a +year. One morning, when Clodagh came in from doing some little +commissions on the Parade, she found her friend, pale as death, half +fainting in her chair, an open letter in stiff, formal writing on her +knee. + +"Clodagh, oh Clodagh," she exclaimed, "read, read. Who could have dreamt +of it?" + +And truly her distress was not to be wondered at, for the news was +appalling, being nothing less but that of the poor young woman's almost +total ruin by the failure of a bank. Clodagh for a moment felt stunned, +but she soon collected herself and did her best to comfort her cousin. + +"Take courage, dear Paulina," she said. "There is no need for despair. +You have still enough for comfort of a simple kind, and I will work for +you. It will be my turn to repay your generosity." + +"Dear child," murmured her poor cousin, all her high spirit broken, "you +have already far more than repaid anything I have done for you. But +don't leave me, promise me. If we must starve, let it be together." + +"We shall not starve," said Clodagh cheerfully. "If--oh, Paulina, I +wonder if you could make up your mind to live at Grey Rocks. My old +nurse would take us in. She has a little farm and a nice clean house. +Granny gave it to her and furnished it. We could live there on almost +nothing, and every one would know who we were and be good to us." Her +eyes actually sparkled at the prospect. + +And after a little Paulina caught some of the younger girl's spirit. + +"Yes," she said, "it is the best thing we can do. I have none but happy +remembrances of the old place." + +So Clodagh wrote to the friend of her grandmother who had been her +guardian, asking him to see her nurse and arrange it. Writing direct +would have been useless, as the simple woman had never learnt to read. +And as quickly as the slow mails of those days could bring it, came Mr. +Fitzgerald's reply. More than a reply indeed, for he began the letter by +saying that he had pen in hand to write to her when her request reached +him, for he had an extraordinary communication to make. + +"Grey Rocks, my dear Clodagh," he wrote, "is yours, your own property. +It has again been for sale, as the late purchaser inherited unexpectedly +a large property and did not care to retain the smaller one, and on the +very day before I heard from you, a certain firm of lawyers, well known +to me and entirely trustworthy, sent over a confidential clerk to +arrange for the purchase for yourself--Miss Clodagh O'Beirne--of the +entire little property, as a gift, an absolute gift from an unknown +friend, on one condition only, that you will never seek to discover the +giver. I rejoiced inexpressibly, but my rejoicing is doubled and trebled +since the receipt of your distressing news this morning. Surely never +was a kind deed more appropriate. All is already in train, and whenever +it suits you to return, you, accompanied I hope by Miss Paulina +O'Beirne, will be welcomed with heartfelt joy by us all." + +Clodagh's delight may be imagined, and to Paulina also the news was an +immense relief. + +"Who can be the unknown friend?" she exclaimed, adding, however, "But as +you must never try to find out, perhaps it is better not to speak of +it." + +"Much better," said Clodagh, and they never did. + +And a happy home old Grey Rocks proved. It was but seldom they cared to +leave it. But when they did "want to wander," and with good management +their joint means were enough to enable them to do so now and then, you +may be sure that their only luggage was the two well-tested trunks, +whose marvellous properties never failed. Clodagh, of course, in her +heart had her own secret belief as to the identity of her benefactor or +benefactress, but the mysterious "fairy lady" she never saw again. And +whether her visits to the Marristons at the Priory continued or not, I +cannot say. + +Nor can I tell you the after history of the cousins, though something +whispers to me that their lives were happy. But it all happened a long +time ago. I cannot go over to Grey Rocks, for I do not know, to tell the +truth, in what part of old Ireland it stands. Possibly still, in some +forgotten corner of a deserted attic are hidden away the enchanted +trunks, no one guessing their fairy powers! Who can say, though I am +sure most of us wish that they, or others of their kind, belonged to us. +How delightful it would be! + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fairies Afield, by Mary Louisa Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRIES AFIELD *** + +***** This file should be named 39167-8.txt or 39167-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/1/6/39167/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Fairies Afield + +Author: Mary Louisa Molesworth + +Illustrator: Gertrude Demain Hammond + +Release Date: March 16, 2012 [EBook #39167] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRIES AFIELD *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1>FAIRIES AFIELD</h1> + +<h2>BY MRS. MOLESWORTH</h2> + + +<p class="center">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY<br /> +GERTRUDE DEMAIN HAMMOND</p> + +<p class="center">MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED<br /> +ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON</p> + +<p class="center">1911</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">MACMILLAN AND CO., Limited</span></p> + +<p class="center">LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA<br /> +MELBOURNE</p> + +<p class="center">THE MACMILLAN COMPANY</p> + +<p class="center">NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO<br /> +ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd.</span></p> + +<p class="center">TORONTO</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p class="center">I DEDICATE THIS BOOK<br /> +TO ONE WHO LOVES FAIRY STORIES<br /> +THE REVEREND JOHN CYRIL HOWELL</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">155 Sloane Street, S.W.</span><br /> +<i>May 8, 1911.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus1" id="illus1"></a> +<img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>Pretty Ysenda.</h3> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<table summary="contents"> +<tr><td></td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#Ask_the_Robin">"<span class="smcap">Ask the Robin</span>"</a></td><td align="right">1</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#A_Magic_Table"><span class="smcap">A Magic Table</span></a></td><td align="right">60</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#The_Weather_Maiden"><span class="smcap">The Weather Maiden</span></a></td><td align="right">121</td></tr> +<tr><td><a href="#The_Enchanted_Trunks"><span class="smcap">The Enchanted Trunks</span></a></td><td align="right">176</td></tr> +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +<table summary="illustrations"> +<tr><td></td><td align="right">TO FACE PAGE</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="#illus1"><span class="smcap">Pretty Ysenda</span> (<span class="smcap">P. 66</span>) </a></td><td align="right"> <i>Frontispiece</i></td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="#illus2">"<span class="smcap">It makes me think of all sorts of lovely +summer things</span>"</a></td><td align="right">8</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="#illus3"><span class="smcap">With a wonderful note of exceeding joy, he +spread his wings and flew round the +bower, returning again to perch on the +child's still outstretched hand, as if in +gratitude</span></a></td><td align="right" valign="top">52</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="#illus4">"<span class="smcap">Your motive was pure kindness—free from +all selfishness, therefore you succeeded</span>"</a></td><td align="right">119</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="#illus5">"<span class="smcap">So you have come at last, little maiden</span>"</a></td><td align="right">136</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="#illus6"><span class="smcap">She caught sight of a tiny figure peering at +her from behind the rubbish</span></a></td><td align="right">150</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="#illus7"><span class="smcap">Stopped and kissed it gently and respectfully</span></a></td><td align="right">214</td></tr> + +<tr><td><a href="#illus8"><span class="smcap">Lo and behold—Cousin Felicity had vanished</span></a></td><td align="right">239</td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Ask_the_Robin" id="Ask_the_Robin"></a>"Ask the Robin"</h2> + + +<p>Once upon a time—a fairly long ago time—there lived in a neat little +cottage two young girls who were sisters. If you had gone to see them on +a bright warm summer's day, I daresay you would have envied them and +their life and their lot. For they were pretty and healthy and they +loved each other dearly, and the cottage was charming to look at, in its +dress of clustering roses and honeysuckle and traveller's joy, and other +sweet and beautiful climbing, flowering plants. Furthermore, it stood in +a little garden filled with treasures of different kinds, pansies, of +which there was a great variety, and lilies and mignonette and all the +flowers one loves to see in an old-fashioned garden of the kind. And the +sisters kept it in perfect order, the beds were always raked, there was +never a weed to be seen, the tiny plots of grass were like velvet.</p> + +<p>In spring too it was very pretty, when first the snowdrops and then the +crocuses and primroses and violets woke up after their long winter +sleep, and in autumn also there was a show of beauties, dahlias and +chrysanthemums and kitchen pokers and other pretty things of the season.</p> + +<p>And indeed, even in winter, the place had its charm, of evergreen shrubs +and bright berries and—till the snow came and made an end of all but +the hardiest plants, the still remaining lovely variegated leaves of +late autumn.</p> + +<p>No care or skill was wanting to keep the whole as pretty as could +possibly be, for the sisters' father was a gardener, and from him they +had learnt both love of growing things and knowledge of all needed for +their welfare. And not so very long before this story begins I doubt if +Aria or Linde—these were the girls' names—cared what time of year it +was, for all were happy days to them. Glowing summer, sparkling spring, +rich mellow autumn, even winter, often cold and grey—all brought joy +and gladness, till one sad night terrible sorrow fell upon them. Their +father was drowned on his way home from market, in crossing a swollen +stream, whose rushing waters broke down the little wooden bridge, over +which in the darkness he was driving his small pony-cart. And as the +poor girls' mother had died years before, they were now truly orphans.</p> + +<p>The neighbours—such as there were, for there were but few—were sorry +for them and kind, as far as they could be. But it was a lonely part of +the world. The gardens where the drowned man had been one of the +labourers belonged to a rich landowner who seldom visited his property, +and all that the place produced was sent to the nearest town and there +sold. Thus there was no one of importance to take much interest in Aria +or Linde, except the steward of the castle, who advised them to look for +situations as servants, and when they wept and said they could not bear +to be parted, he got angry and called them fools and left them alone.</p> + +<p>For a short time they got on pretty well. They were still very +young—Aria barely seventeen and Linde only fourteen, but they were +active and capable and ready-witted, and their father had managed to +save a little, though, alas, but a little.</p> + +<p>Aria made it last as long as she possibly could. It was summer, and they +needed but small fires and cheaper clothing and even—so it seemed to +them—simpler food than in the cold weather. Then they were able to +earn a fair amount by odd work in the hay-fields and so on, when work +was at its best. And once a week, at least, they trudged all the way to +market laden with their loveliest flowers, tied up with great taste and +care, and sometimes, as the season advanced, baskets full of the wild +fruit that they gathered in the forest hard by. Have I told you that +their home was on the edge of a forest? No? Ah well, never mind, we +shall hear more of the forest by and by.</p> + +<p>But summer, and even autumn, only stay for their appointed time. As they +stood at the cottage door one morning late in October, Aria's face grew +very grave. It was a chilly day, the sky overcast and steely, a sort of +sighing in the air as if the spirits of the summer and the sunshine were +bidding the world a reluctant farewell, frightened away by the +fast-approaching winter.</p> + +<p>It was Friday, the day before the market, to which so far they had never +missed wending their way, even if the weather were wet or stormy, as it +must be now and then at all times of the year.</p> + +<p>"How dull and cold it is!" said Linde with a little shiver. "Aria, I +wish we didn't need to go all the way to market to-morrow, if it's +going to be like this."</p> + +<p>Aria looked at her without speaking for a moment. Then she said very +seriously:</p> + +<p>"You are thoughtless, Linde, but then of course you are much younger +than I, poor child. You say you wish we need not go to the town +to-morrow? My dear, I am only afraid that your wish will come true! I +don't see what we have to take to market—the fruit is all over and we +have but very few flowers to tie up."</p> + +<p>Linde's face fell. Then she brightened up a little.</p> + +<p>"There are lots of lovely leaves," she said.</p> + +<p>Aria glanced over the garden.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied. "I think we may manage two or three good bunches for +to-morrow, and possibly for another Saturday too. And—" she went on, +"it has struck me that some of the townsfolk, who are always glad to buy +our flowers, might care for our dried rose-leaves—we have quite a large +jar-full, you know."</p> + +<p>Linde clapped her hands.</p> + +<p>"What a good idea!" she cried. "Oh I'm sure the leaves would sell. So +few of the ladies in the town have proper gardens of their own."</p> + +<p>"Or time to look after them, luckily for us," said Aria, "otherwise our +flowers would not be in such request."</p> + +<p>For though little Linde spoke of their customers as "ladies," the good +housekeepers of the small but busy town were mostly of the working-class +themselves—that is to say, wives or mothers of the men employed in the +china manufactories on which the place depended, and in those days, +long, long before railway lines, there were no such things as flower +shops. The only chance of getting fresh garden produce was the market.</p> + +<p>"Luckily for us too," Aria went on, "there are no great gardens near, +except at the castle, and father often said it was hard work to keep the +countess supplied with flowers enough, even though she sent express +messengers for them twice a week."</p> + +<p>"All the same," said Linde rather dolefully, "I wish father hadn't been +a gardener. Flowers are so delicate and wither so soon. If we'd had a +little dairy now—or even poultry, and could have sold butter and eggs, +and chickens. They'd have gone on all the year round."</p> + +<p>"Linde, dear, father never had money enough to buy cows or even +poultry," said Aria with a sigh. "And it would have been difficult to +get much to the market, so far off as it is, without a cart and pony, +and how could we have bought these?"</p> + +<p>For the pony which had perished with the poor man was the property of +his master, though he was sometimes allowed to carry shrubs and bulbs of +his own to market, with the castle vegetables, when he went to sell them +at the town.</p> + +<p>Linde did not answer. Her spirits were very apt to go up and down all in +a minute, so Aria spoke again more cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I'm glad I thought of the rose-leaves. They are really +most fragrant still. I lifted the lid yesterday for a moment. The powder +that father gave me to throw among them was wonderfully good. I wish we +had more of it."</p> + +<p>"Is it quite done?" asked Linde.</p> + +<p>"Very nearly. It was given to mother, you know, when she was a bride by +an old woman who was her godmother. She declared it had fairy power and +would never grow stale. And so it has proved. We may safely promise any +who buy the leaves that they will scent their linen even better than +lavender, and more lastingly. Come along, Linde, and let's see how we +can best take a good parcel of them with us to-morrow," and Linde's +interest revived again, as she followed her sister indoors.</p> + +<p>The dried leaves—what are often called "pot pourri," though the simple +sisters had never heard the name—were kept in a very large jar, of +old-fashioned stoneware. It had a lid, and would nowadays be highly +valued as rare and antique. But of this its owners knew nothing. They +only loved it for their parents' sake, as it too had been a wedding gift +from the godmother. And whence she had got it no one had ever known. She +was herself a rather mysterious person. Folks used to say—so Aria +remembered having heard when she was a little girl, helping her mother +to gather rose-leaves to fill the jar—that there was something of fairy +nature about her.</p> + +<p>"And however that may have been," said Aria, as she repeated this to +Linde, "certainly her gifts have proved lasting. The jar has been +knocked over several times, you know, and never broken, and the powder +is as fresh as a newly gathered rose."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Linde agreed, after a good long sniff at the jar's contents. +"It's delicious. It makes me think of all sorts of lovely summer +things."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus2" id="illus2"></a> +<img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"It makes me think of all sorts of lovely summer things."</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Then they consulted as to how they could best carry the precious +leaves to the market for sale.</p> + +<p>"We needn't take them <i>all</i>," pleaded Linde. "I do wish we needn't sell +any. It seems a shame."</p> + +<p>"Almost," her sister replied, "but it can't be helped. If only I had had +more of the powder," she repeated, "we might have collected and dried +quantities of rose-leaves."</p> + +<p>"Or if we knew how to make the powder," said Linde.</p> + +<p>But that knowledge was not to be had.</p> + +<p>Aria had reached down the jar, which stood on a high shelf in a corner, +and the fragrance seemed to fill the room.</p> + +<p>"Leave off sniffing it, Linde, dear," she said, for the child kept +bending over it, "and let us plan how to take the leaves to market. We +can't of course carry the jar, but it wouldn't do only to pack them in a +sheet of paper. Ah, I have it," and she ran up the tiny ladder-like +staircase which led to their little bedroom above, returning with a +good-sized old-fashioned box or canister of tin, with a firm lid. "The +very thing," she exclaimed joyously.</p> + +<p>"It will be dreadfully clumsy and heavy to carry," objected Linde.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, I can easily manage it, and a bunch or two of flowers as well, +without being overladen," said Aria. "And see here, Linde, I will take +this little cup," and she held up a small mug of lustre ware, "I fancy +it will hold about two ounces weight of the leaves. For that quantity +say we charge half a groat—and if we are lucky enough to sell twenty or +even twelve cups full, that will get us through next week beautifully."</p> + +<p>Then she filled the little cup and weighed its contents. They were just +over her idea. And Linde's spirits rose again as she helped her sister +to cleanse the canister from every speck of dust or mould and then to +fill it with the perfumed leaves.</p> + +<p>All that day the cottage seemed pervaded by the fragrance. Accidentally +a few of the leaves and some grains of the powder fell among Linde's +curly hair, and when she brushed it out at night she was amused at its +scent. It was not to be wondered at perhaps, that as her head lay on the +pillow she should have dreamt of the jar and its contents and the old +mystery associated with them.</p> + +<p>This was her dream.</p> + +<p>She thought that she and her sister were standing at their usual corner +of the market-place, their posies of flowers and large bunches of autumn +leaves carefully arranged before them on the rough wooden table, the tin +canister in the middle and a little heap of the leaves displayed in +front of it. It seemed very early, there were scarcely any people about. +Suddenly up came a small old woman, a stranger and what Linde would have +called "a foreigner," for her dress was either that of another country +or of a date already quite passed out of fashion. She glanced at the +flowers, and appeared to be passing on, when she caught sight of the +little heap of dried leaves, on which she stopped short and Linde felt a +pair of bright eyes fixed on her. Then the stranger smiled and nodded, +and, bending towards the child, murmured in her ear the mysterious +words: "Three times, and then ask the robin."</p> + +<p>"How—what do you mean?" exclaimed Linde in her dream, trying to catch +hold of the owner of the piercing eyes, as she turned away. But before +the little girl could touch her, she was gone, and in the start of +disappointment Linde awoke.</p> + +<p>"What a queer dream," she said to herself, as she lay thinking of it. "I +wish Aria were awake, I do so want to tell it her."</p> + +<p>But Aria was fast asleep, her face looking so peaceful in the moonlight +that Linde was too unselfish to wish to disturb her, for of late she +knew well that the elder girl's waking hours were full of anxiety.</p> + +<p>"I must wait till the morning," thought the child, and turning round she +herself was soon in a dreamless slumber.</p> + +<p>The next day Aria listened with great interest to Linde's story.</p> + +<p>"It is queer," she agreed. "It almost sounds like a message from +mother's uncanny godmother."</p> + +<p>"Don't call her 'uncanny,'" Linde objected. "It's rather a frightening +sort of word, and she mightn't like it. Supposing," she went on, +lowering her voice, "<i>supposing</i> she really was a fairy, or partly one, +she may be back in fairyland for all we know, and some day we might see +her."</p> + +<p>But Aria shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "she very likely had dealings with the fairies, but that +isn't the same as being one herself."</p> + +<p>"I'll keep a good look-out for her, nevertheless, at the market to-day," +Linde replied.</p> + +<p>And so she did. But no one at all resembling the quaint figure in her +dream was to be seen, and after a while Linde forgot about her, so busy +were the sisters that morning in selling their wares.</p> + +<p>The first of their usual customers, a kindly, well-to-do, housewifely +woman, who had known their father and always came to them for flowers, +was at once attracted by the delicious perfume of the dried leaves.</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear," she exclaimed, "it's not often that late autumn flowers +are so fragrant. Your posies are always fresh and sweet, but I've never +known their scent so beautiful," and she sniffed with satisfaction, +looking about to discover from which of the flowers it came.</p> + +<p>"It's not the flowers," explained Aria to the good dame. "It's something +new we have for sale to-day. I only hope that you and our other +customers may take a fancy to it," and she went on to tell of the +pleasant qualities of the dried rose-leaves—how their scent, if they +were laid among linen, was both fresher and more delicate to begin with, +and lasted much longer than that of the finest lavender. But she said +nothing of the sort of mystery connected with the powder; some instinct +prevented her doing so. Nor did she tell that but a little of it +remained, or that their stock of rose-leaves would soon be exhausted.</p> + +<p>"Who knows what may happen before that?" she reflected, and the words of +Linde's dream-visitor recurred to her, "Three times, and then ask the +robin."</p> + +<p>Dame Barbara was quite satisfied and greatly delighted.</p> + +<p>"Here," she said, fumbling for her substantial purse, "a groat for two +ounces of it, did you say? No, a half-groat only? My dear, you'll have +to raise your prices if the perfume is so excellent! Well to begin with, +give me the four ounces straight away, and here's a half-groat over and +above what it all comes to—dried leaves and fresh ones and flowers, all +together—just the tiny silver piece for luck, you know."</p> + +<p>Aria and Linde smiled and thanked her. And the thanks were repeated, +when, as she turned away, she called out, "I'll be the first to tell my +cronies of this. Dear, dear, I feel as if I were in a fairy garden +myself with the pleasure of the perfume. I had no idea that the robins' +forest had such treasures of roses. For you live in the forest, do you +not, or close by?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, just at its edge," they replied, "but," Linde went on eagerly, +"we never knew it was called after the robins. It is odd that we never +heard it."</p> + +<p>Dame Barbara nodded sagaciously.</p> + +<p>"'Tis a very old name. Scarce a one but myself knows of it, nowadays," +she said. "No wonder you children never heard it. There was an ancient +story—just a foolish tale—that the fairies haunted the forest, till +one day some cruel or stupid person killed a robin. Robins used to +abound there, and they are their special favourites, you know, and since +then never a fairy or a robin has been seen there. But I must hurry off +to finish my marketing."</p> + +<p>Aria and Linde looked at each other.</p> + +<p>"It must mean something," said Linde in a low and almost awe-struck +tone. "My dream, I mean, and the old woman saying, 'Ask the robin.'"</p> + +<p>"Yes," her sister agreed. "It is odd too that we never heard the old +name or the old story before. I wonder if father had? I have a sort of +remembrance of his once saying something about our being too near the +forest for robins to make their home with us, but I had a silly childish +idea that he only meant that all robins disliked forests."</p> + +<p>"I think I must have had the same notion," said Linde, "for we have both +of us now and then wished that robins would make their nests in our +garden, but we just thought they never would! We have hardly ever seen +one."</p> + +<p>"Very seldom," said Aria. "I have occasionally noticed a redbreast on +the hedge, seeming to look about him, but he was sure to fly away."</p> + +<p>But though they felt extremely interested in what they had heard and +very curious to find out if, as Linde said, her dream did "mean +something," just then they had no time to talk about it any more, for +Dame Barbara was as good as her word. Every one of their usual customers +for flowers seemed to have met the old woman and been told of the +wonderful dried leaves. And some strangers, too, new-comers or visitors +to the little town, stopped as they passed by, with exclamations of +"What a delicious fragrance! Can it be from these flowers?" and when it +was explained to them that the source of the perfume was the contents of +the tin canister, one and all immediately bought a cup-full, or two, +even in some cases three or four. Long before their usual hour for going +home, all the leaves were sold, and some would-be purchasers who came +too late were delighted to hear that next market-day there would be a +fresh supply of the coveted leaves.</p> + +<p>"Never has our purse been so well filled before," said Aria in great +content, as she tied up the little purchases of butter and eggs and +honey and other luxuries which she had scarcely hoped to be able to +afford. "Linde, it really has been a wonderful success. If only we had +jars and jars full of the leaves!"</p> + +<p>"Don't despair," said Linde. "Remember my dream. Who knows what may come +of it?" and very hopeful and happy, the sisters set off for their long +walk home.</p> + +<p>Nothing out of the common happened to them during the next few days. +Though they half laughed at themselves for doing so, they often kept +looking out in hopes of catching sight of a redbreast, but none was to +be seen, and though they strolled more than once farther than usual into +the forest, when their daily work was over, they there met with no +adventures.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid, Linde, dear," said Aria on the Friday evening, when they +had again filled the canister with the precious leaves to be ready for +market next day, "I am afraid that we must think no more about your +dream, or that it meant anything. We have still leaves enough for one +other day's sale after to-morrow, and we must just be thankful for the +help it has been, giving us time to consider what we must do to get +through the winter," and though she tried to speak cheerfully, the poor +girl could not keep back a little sigh, which Linde was quick to hear.</p> + +<p>"Aria, sweetheart, Aria," the child exclaimed in a piteous voice, "you +don't think, you can't mean that we may have to part? Oh I'd much, much +rather die, if we might but die together. Promise me, promise me that +you'll never leave me."</p> + +<p>"My darling," said Aria, bravely forcing back her tears, "Heaven knows, +it half kills me to think of such a possibility. So far, things have +gone better with us than we could have dared to hope; let us therefore +go on praying and trusting that we may keep together."</p> + +<p>Linde cheered up again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, that is the best thing to do," she agreed. "And do you know, +Aria, though I get frightened sometimes, deeper down I have a feeling +that we shall get on well, after all. It is ever since my dream that I +seem to get this sort of comforting hope," she added, with a curious +light in her eyes.</p> + +<p>The elder sister, to tell the truth, had less faith in dreams and +presentiments than little Linde, but she was glad of anything to cheer +the child. So with a loving kiss they went to bed betimes, in +preparation for their long walk to market the next day, and soon fell +asleep.</p> + +<p>Aria woke first on Saturday morning. It was still very early, the dawn +barely breaking. But there was light enough to see Linde's face, all +rosy and smiling in her sleep. She quickly roused when she heard her +sister moving about the room.</p> + +<p>"Aria," she exclaimed, "Aria, darling, it's come again. The dream, I +mean."</p> + +<p>Aria turned and looked at her. At first the elder sister was inclined to +say that she was not very surprised. A dream that has made much +impression on one is apt to return, especially in this case, remembering +their conversation the previous evening. But the sight of Linde's happy +and excited face checked her.</p> + +<p>"I must not damp her hopefulness," she thought, "and after all—who +knows?"—"Was it the same as before?" she asked, "exactly the same old +woman and all?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Linde replied, "just the same. We were in the market, and she +came by, and then stopped and seemed to be attracted by the rose-leaves' +scent. Then I felt her eyes on me and heard her voice—low but +clear—saying——," and here the little girl interrupted herself, "Oh +yes, there were just two words different, and that makes it seem more +real. She did not say 'three times,' but '<i>twice</i> more and then ask the +robin.' I wonder," Linde continued, "I wonder if possibly we shall see +her herself. No—I don't think we shall. I feel that she can only come +in dreams."</p> + +<p>They were at their place in the market in good time as usual. Their +posies of late flowers and autumn foliage had, alas, diminished, but +their supply of the fragrant leaves was rather larger than the week +before, for, influenced perhaps by the "twice more" of Linde's dream +visitor, Aria had divided the contents of the jar into two equal +portions, each of which proved to be rather more than the first lot she +had carried off for sale. In fact the useful tin canister was this time +completely filled.</p> + +<p>And the demand for their new wares was even greater than the last time. +Dame Barbara and her friends had spread the fame of the wonderful +leaves. Aria could have sold what she had twice over, and more than one +of her customers assured her that if she could keep up the supply during +the winter, orders would be forthcoming from more distant parts of the +country.</p> + +<p>"I mean to make pretty bags and fill them with your leaves, for +Christmas presents to my friends," said one smiling young lady. "So +don't forget that I shall want ever so much of them a little later on," +and Aria thanked her and wisely refrained from saying that she feared +her stock was all but exhausted.</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure of that," said Linde, when Aria sighed about it. "My +hopes have risen sky-high since the dream came again, though how we are +to 'ask the robin,' seeing that none of his kind ever come near us, or +how he could help us if we did come across him, is more than I can in +any way imagine! And after all, we have still enough leaves for next +market-day, which will be the <i>third</i> time."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Aria agreed, "it is much the best to hope on and keep up our +spirits. And for the present we have no reason to despond. My old purse +is delightfully well filled to-day even though I could not make up my +mind to raise the price of the leaves as Dame Barbara urged me to do. I +felt somehow as if it would not bring me good luck."</p> + +<p>"I felt the same," said Linde.</p> + +<p>They spent a cheerful evening, and the following day, Sunday, passed +peacefully. When they returned from the ancient church in the +neighbouring village whither since their infancy they had always gone +with their parents, Linde asked Aria to let her go for a stroll in the +forest by herself, to which the elder sister, who was feeling a little +tired, agreed.</p> + +<p>"You are going to look for a robin, I know," she said with a smile, "and +possibly as the dreams have come to you and not to me, you may succeed +where I could not. But don't go too far, dear child. I should be anxious +if you were long away, for no doubt the forest <i>is</i> rather uncanny, +somehow."</p> + +<p>"I won't go far," said Linde. "And I hardly hope to find out anything. +But I shall just look well about me. You see the real time has not yet +come. We are not to 'ask the robin' till after three market-days."</p> + +<p>When she returned home an hour or two later, she seemed thoughtful, +though not exactly depressed.</p> + +<p>"Well," asked her sister, "had you any adventures?"</p> + +<p>Linde shook her head, yet she smiled a little.</p> + +<p>"Only a very tiny thing happened to me," she said, "hardly worth +noticing. I strolled some way along the path that leads straight to the +heart of the forest—the main path, you know, Aria—and I was just +thinking of turning home, when, a short way down a much smaller path, +scarcely one at all, I caught sight of something bright lying on the +ground. At first I thought it was a scarlet berry or two, or some of the +red leaves one often sees, but when I stooped to pick it up, it was +this," and she held out a small feather.</p> + +<p>Aria took it—it was of a peculiar shade, almost more orange than red.</p> + +<p>"I know what you are thinking," said the elder sister,—"that it is a +robin's feather—from his red breast, and it certainly looks very like +it, but——"</p> + +<p>"Wait, Aria, till you hear the rest," interrupted Linde, and she opened +her other hand, in which lay two more of the fairy-like feathers, +exactly similar to the first. "The wonderful part of it was that though +they are <i>so</i> tiny," and she glanced at the treasures tenderly, "and +though it was not a bright day, there was no sunshine, they glowed and +gleamed as if they were gems. I walked on a little way, you see, after I +had picked up the one, and there, some yards ahead, lay the second, and +the same with the third. But it was the last. I feel sure it was the +last, though I went on some distance. And somehow, three seem the right +number for a fairy message. It matches the three times in my dreams."</p> + +<p>"Then you do think they are a message?" asked Aria.</p> + +<p>"Of course I do. I marked the path well by breaking off twigs and making +a little heap of pebbles. Indeed it was necessary, for I had never +noticed before that there was a path there at all," and when she went on +to describe its position Aria agreed with her that it seemed quite a new +discovery.</p> + +<p>For the rest of the week Linde appeared satisfied to rest quietly on her +oars. She made no more expeditions to the forest, and indeed spoke less +than she had done of her dreams and their interpretation, though that +she was thinking much about them her sister felt sure, from the look in +her pretty eyes and the way she sometimes smiled to herself for no +apparent reason.</p> + +<p>So the days passed till again it was Friday evening and the sisters went +early to bed. Everything was ready for their little stall at the market, +but Aria sighed as she remarked that their autumn posies now made but a +poor show.</p> + +<p>"But there are the rose-leaves," said Linde.</p> + +<p>"Yes," her sister replied, "but the last of them, alas! See, Linde, the +jar is quite emptied!"</p> + +<p>"Do not be so downcast, darling," said Linde as they kissed each other +for good-night. "Why, we have seemed to change places of late! It used +to be you always cheering me—now it is I to cheer you."</p> + +<p>Aria smiled. She felt sure that it was the hope of the dream being +repeated for the magic third time that was brightening her sister. But +she said nothing that night. Only the next morning when she woke very +early, just as the first faint streaks of coming dawn were beginning to +appear, she listened anxiously, wondering if Linde was still asleep, and +felt glad when a tiny rustle, followed by a whisper, showed that the +little girl was also awake.</p> + +<p>"Aria," she said, "Aria."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear, what is it?"</p> + +<p>"It's come again, the third time," she exclaimed joyously. "My dream! +Quite the same as before, only that the old woman just smiled at me, and +said, 'Once more, then ask the robin.' Aria, darling, it <i>must</i> mean +something."</p> + +<p>And Aria herself was impressed.</p> + +<p>"But where are we—or you—to find the robin?" she questioned.</p> + +<p>"You're forgetting about the feathers, and the mysterious path," replied +Linde.</p> + +<p>She had carefully wrapped up the tiny treasures and hidden them in the +front of her frock. The knowledge that she had them safely there seemed +to give her courage and hope. That Saturday's sale was again a great +success, and on the following day, as on the Sunday before, when they +returned from church and their simple mid-day dinner was over, Linde +told her sister that she was going to the forest. This time she scarcely +asked Aria's leave, and though the elder girl was a little anxious, she +felt that it would have been useless to attempt to stop her.</p> + +<p>"Very well, darling," she said. "But don't go very far or stay very +long. Promise me."</p> + +<p>Linde considered.</p> + +<p>"I think I can promise," she said, "to be back by sundown. But, Aria, I +believe I may have to go again much farther, or to do—I know not +what—but feelings are coming to me," and she unconsciously touched the +place where the redbreast feathers were nestling. "You won't forbid it, +sister, will you?"</p> + +<p>Aria's face grew very grave.</p> + +<p>"Whatever has to be done, and wherever," she said, "why cannot we go +together? I am afraid of the forest. Even father believed that there +was some spell or enchantment over it. You remember he never allowed us +to go into it beyond a certain distance.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Linde dreamily, "I remember. But maybe," and her face +lighted up with a bright smile, "maybe, Aria, the spell, or whatever it +is, is going to be broken," and though the elder sister trembled a +little at the words, she, too, felt a curious thrill of pleasant +excitement.</p> + +<p>So the two kissed each other fondly and Linde set off. She was well +wrapped up in a warm cloak, for the autumn days were fast growing +chilly, especially of course in the forest, where the short amount of +mid-day sunshine scarcely penetrated, so closely growing were the trees. +The cloak had originally been their mother's, then Aria's, and now the +elder girl had refreshed and rebound it for her sister. It was of good, +thick stuff and red in colour, and as Linde turned for a moment to wave +another good-bye at the entrance to the wood, it struck Aria that the +child looked rather like a human robin redbreast herself. She smiled at +the idea; somehow it cheered her. "May all good angels and the saints +guard her," she murmured as she re-entered the cottage.</p> + +<p>Linde walked on steadily. Not very fast, for she was keenly on the +look-out for any signs or tokens to direct her, and most anxious not to +miss the opening to what in her own mind she called "the feather path."</p> + +<p>And to her satisfaction she found it without any difficulty. It was +still of course broad daylight, that is to say as light as was usual +among the trees, and as she made her way along she kept her eyes on the +ground in hopes of seeing some more tiny specks of the unmistakable +orange-red.</p> + +<p>But in vain. There were no more feathers waiting for her.</p> + +<p>Feeling rather discouraged, Linde stopped short, and looked around her.</p> + +<p>"I must have quite passed the place where I picked up the third +feather," she said to herself. "I did not come as far as this the last +time. Must I go home—what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>She drew her cloak a little closer, and as she did so, her fingers +touched the spot where nestled her treasures. Immediately her hopes +revived.</p> + +<p>"Go on, go on," something above her seemed to say. She glanced upwards, +almost fancying that a voice had spoken to her, but nothing was to be +seen—except—yes, on the branch of a fir-tree near at hand, some yards +overhead, a bird was perching, and not only a bird, to her immense +delight she saw that it was a robin!</p> + +<p>Had it <i>spoken</i>? She gazed at it. It chirped encouragingly and spreading +its wings flew down, and then flew onwards in front of her.</p> + +<p>"Stay, robin, stay, and tell me what to do," cried the child. But it +only turned its little head towards her for half a second, and then +continued its flight. Linde by this time, however, had lost all +hesitation. On she ran, as fast as she could go, though now and then, as +if in consideration for her, her small winged friend stopped for a +moment or two, and Linde grew less breathless. Then it looked back at +her again, and in this way they got over a good deal of ground, till at +last—why, she could not have told—Linde stopped. And looking up, she +saw that her guide had disappeared.</p> + +<p>She gazed round her. It was a strange spot. She had never been here +before. Of that she felt certain, for she could not have forgotten it.</p> + +<p>She was standing by the edge of a small clearing among the trees. It was +in the shape of a circle, and in front of the firs, whose stems are of +course as a rule bare, were planted short thick bushes as if for still +greater enclosing of the spot. So thickly indeed were these placed, that +turning round to look behind her, Linde wondered how she had come +through them, for no opening was to be seen. It was like standing in a +room of which the doorway is in some way or other completely concealed. +Her heart began to beat faster, for even though she had scarcely moved +she felt as if she could never find her way out again.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a clear chirping made her look up, and to her amazement she +saw, in the very centre of the circular clearing, an object which she +was almost certain had not been there a moment before. And it was not +only her eyes which told her this, for her nostrils at once inhaled a +delicious perfume which she could not, for an instant, have been +unconscious of. It was that of the precious leaves!</p> + +<p>And the object which she was gazing at was an indescribably beautiful +rose-bush in full bloom, on the topmost branch of which sat her friend +the robin!</p> + +<p>He nodded encouragingly—and now his chirps took shape. They grew into +words, but whether other ears than little Linde's would have heard this +I cannot say. Enough that <i>she</i> understood.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, as if in answer to her unexpressed surprise, "yes, I +went down to fetch it up," and she knew that he was speaking of the +rose-bush, "for you to see it for yourself, my child."</p> + +<p>Linde gazed at him for a moment or two without speaking. Was she +dreaming? she asked herself. But the familiar fragrance reassured her.</p> + +<p>"Is it—?" she began, "are these the roses that our fairy powder came +from?"</p> + +<p>Again the robin bent his little head.</p> + +<p>"Even so," he replied. "Fairy roses, that never lose their perfume. And +you would gladly fill the old jar again, would you not?"</p> + +<p>Linde clasped her hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, yes!" she exclaimed. "The leaves mean everything to us. Not +only food and clothing, but a home—a home for us two together, instead +of terrible separation. Oh Robin, darling, may I gather the flowers and +dry the leaves, ready for the market? I'd come any day—or every day, to +fetch them, and oh how grateful we should be," and the tears rushed to +her eyes in her eagerness.</p> + +<p>But the redbreast's tone grew grave, and Linde began to tremble with +fear that he would say it could not be. But when he spoke again his +words surprised her.</p> + +<p>"Do you know the story of the forest?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes—some part of it, at least. We know that—that—" for she felt his +bright eyes fixed upon her, and it made her hesitate, "something very +sad happened, and since then, no robins ever come here," she murmured.</p> + +<p>"Sad—yes indeed," he repeated, "and worse than sad. Wicked, cruel! A +monster in the shape of a boy shot one of our favoured tribe, deservedly +favoured, for, as a Christian child you know since when, we have been +honoured for our faithful service?"</p> + +<p>Linde bowed her head reverently.</p> + +<p>"I know," she whispered. "It was very wicked of the boy. But it was a +long time ago," she went on. "Can't you forgive it, and come back to the +forest again?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis almost fifty years ago," the robin said. "And for fifty years the +place has been under the ban. Our queen—call her fairy queen, or +guardian angel as best pleases you—pronounced it. But around the tomb +of the innocent victim," and he pointed downwards, "she planted the +rose-trees, of whose flowers by special favour the old godmother, of +whom you have heard, was allowed to gather a few. For she it was who +found our poor brother—here on this very spot—and summoned us to his +side. Our ancestor, I should call him, for it was long ago, and our bird +lives are very short—so surely they should not be cut still shorter?"</p> + +<p>"Surely not," said Linde. "Then are those the leaves we had in our jar? +I thought it was a powder—a fairy powder that the godmother +bequeathed?"</p> + +<p>"So it was. She dried and ground the precious leaves, and with the +powder perfumed the petals of her own garden roses, every year, so long +as she lived. But she never re-visited the spot. It has been closed ever +since the day when, the arrow still transfixing his tender body, the +robin was buried, though not dead."</p> + +<p>"Not dead," cried Linde. "What can you mean?"</p> + +<p>"That was the decree," he replied. "For fifty years he was to lie here, +till the forest could be purified from the pollution of cruelty."</p> + +<p>"And how can that be done?" Linde asked eagerly.</p> + +<p>"By the hands of a maiden—a child-maiden, who never, <i>never</i> has been +guilty of cruelty to any living thing. Linde, are you that maiden?"</p> + +<p>The little girl was silent. Then she looked up, and her blue eyes did +not falter beneath the piercing gaze of the bird.</p> + +<p>"I think, yes, I think," she said, "no, I <i>know</i> that I have never +wished or meant to cause suffering. If ever it has come through me, it +has not been by any intention of mine."</p> + +<p>"You speak the truth. We have watched and tested you, though you knew it +not," was the reply. "Now something more is asked of you. Courage!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid, I'm dreadfully afraid I'm not very brave," said poor Linde, +all sorts of alarming ideas rushing through her brain as to what might +be asked of her. Were they going to shoot <i>her</i>, possibly? Or to shut +her up in the tomb with the dead, or not dead robin?</p> + +<p>"Do not look so terrified," said the robin. "More shall not be asked of +you than you can do. We are not a revengeful race, as you well know. We +have always been faithful and loving friends to human beings. You know +the story of——"</p> + +<p>"Of the Babes in the Wood," interrupted Linde. "Of course I do. It was +partly that, that made me think of you, about <i>leaves</i>, you know," and +her face brightened. "I will try to be brave," she added.</p> + +<p>"That is right," said the bird. "Some expiation <i>must</i> be made for that +boy's evil deed, and, as I have already told you, it was decreed that +the one to offer it must be a child entirely innocent of cruelty or +unkindness. For this, <i>you</i>, little Linde, have been chosen. Three +nights hence the fifty years come to an end—the moment for the spell to +be broken will arrive. Before midnight, you must be here, standing on +this very spot, where you now see me."</p> + +<p>Linde started. Had she shut her eyes for an instant?—what had happened +to them? For, to her amazement, the rose-bush was no longer there! The +robin stood on the grass, in the centre of the cleared circle. Yet she +had not seen the disappearance, nor heard the faintest rustle!</p> + +<p>"Oh dear," she thought, "magic doings are very queer. There <i>was</i> a +rose-bush there, I am quite certain," but she said nothing. Some +instinct told her it was best to take things calmly, and to listen +attentively to the robin's instructions. "Where you now see me," he went +on, "till you hear the clock strike twelve."</p> + +<p>"The clock," Linde repeated. "There's no clock here in the middle of the +wood."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said the robin. "Would you like to know the time at the +present moment?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Linde replied. "I suppose it's nearly four o'clock."</p> + +<p>"Listen," whispered the bird, and as she obeyed, there fell on her ears +the prettiest bell-like chimes she had ever heard. "One, two, three—" +on to twenty, then a pause and in deeper tones, "one, two, three, four."</p> + +<p>"Twenty minutes to four," said her friend. "If it had been <i>past</i> four, +the four would have struck first. All <i>our</i> clocks are what your clumsy +human watchmakers call 'repeaters,' you see."</p> + +<p>"And what do you do to make them tell you the time?" asked the little +girl eagerly.</p> + +<p>"You just say 'What o'clock is it?' That is of course if you are at one +of the entrances to fairyland. You can generally find one if you look +about. They are always in the centre of a ring."</p> + +<p>"Oh," replied Linde, "that's a good thing to know. I often see fairy +rings, but I had no idea they had a door in the middle. Then tell me +more, please. I must wait till I hear the fairy clock strike twelve, +and then—will the door open? And—what do you want me to do? And—if I +can do it, will you let me gather some roses?"</p> + +<p>"Not so fast, not so fast," said the robin. "Let me see—what was I +saying? You stand here—the clock strikes, at the twelfth stroke you tap +the ground with the three feathers—you have them safe?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Linde, feeling for them as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"The door will then open and you will descend. That is all you require +to know at present. Three nights hence, three nights hence."</p> + +<p>"But," began the little girl, "I must know something more. How am I to +find my way here in the middle of the night when it is all dark? It +wasn't easy to distinguish the path even by daylight, and now, even now, +I don't know how to get through these thick bushes on to it. I can't see +any opening in them."</p> + +<p>Instead of replying the robin suddenly spread his wings and alighted on +a bush close beside her, and at once Linde perceived that there was a +narrow sort of passage through the hedge. She turned towards it.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," she said, adding timidly, "May Aria come with me? Together +we might find our way better perhaps. We might bring a little lantern."</p> + +<p>"It will not be needed, and you must come alone. You may tell Aria all I +have told you; and if she is wise she will encourage you. I make no +promises. It is not for me to do so. But this you may depend upon—never +will you have cause to regret obedience to this summons," and as he +spoke, he spread his wings again and flew upwards. As he passed her, +there came a breath of the delicious perfume, and Linde felt that it +meant a promise after all, which raised her spirits, as pushing her way +through the hedge she found herself on the path outside and started on +her way home.</p> + +<p>"Aria will be getting anxious," she thought. "I must hurry. I do believe +it is all going to come right, but—oh dear, I do feel frightened at the +idea of finding my way here alone through these gloomy woods in the very +middle of the night. Why wouldn't the robin let Aria come too? I suppose +it <i>had</i> to be a rather dreadful thing to do, to make up for that cruel +boy's wickedness. Oh dear, oh dear!"</p> + +<p>But as she ran on as fast as her feet would take her, some things grew +clearer. She must make the best of it to her sister. She must conceal +her terrors as much as possible.</p> + +<p>"For supposing," she reflected, "that dear Aria really <i>wouldn't</i> let me +go and that it all came to nothing—the dreams and the feathers and this +wonderful talking robin, how could I ever get over it? We should have to +be parted pretty certainly, and would not that be a thousand times more +terrible than having to face the dark forest for once? For deep down in +my heart I feel certain that I shall be taken care of. I am proud to be +chosen to break the spell and to make the forest again a happy place—a +home for the dear robins, and favoured by the fairies as it used to be +all those years ago—yes, I am proud to be the chosen one. And I know it +will lead to our getting the precious leaves to sell, as many as we +want, and <i>that</i> means everything to us, home and comfort and the being +together. Yes, I <i>will</i> be brave."</p> + +<p>So when, at some little distance from the boundary of the forest, she +caught sight in the gloaming of her sister's figure anxiously looking +out for her, she ran towards her with cheerful eagerness, calling out as +loudly as she could, "It's all right, darling. Good news—good news."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, when Aria had heard the whole strange story, her face grew +very grave.</p> + +<p>"Linde, my sweetest," she said, "I <i>cannot</i> let you do it. Alone in the +middle of the night, and winter close at hand! Wolves have been known to +find their way into the forest, and not only that, we ourselves have +every reason to believe there is some unhappy enchantment over the +place——"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Linde agreed. "That is exactly why I have been chosen—to break +the spell."</p> + +<p>"But," persisted poor Aria, "how do we know that the robin may not be +deceiving us? Possibly he is a witch or wizard in disguise! Possibly a +fairy, not wishing you harm, but hoping to steal you away. Fairies +always try to lure human children to live with them. Folks say it +prolongs their own spell of life if they succeed."</p> + +<p>Linde considered.</p> + +<p>"No," she said at last. "The fairies who love these woods are good and +true, I feel certain. I daresay there are different kinds of fairies, +just as there are of people. But you can feel that these ones are kind +and loving by their care for the robins. Then, remember my dreams, +sister. Our mother's godmother would not wish harm to come to us, and +so far, all her messages to us have only brought us great good, and +greater is in store for us, I am firmly convinced. Be quite happy about +it, darling. You know I am naturally rather cowardly, much less +courageous than you, yet see how cheerful I feel about it. I have no +misgivings."</p> + +<p>And this was true. For the time, at least, all the little girl's fears +had flown away. So Aria said no more, though from time to time during +the next few days when she glanced at her sister she could not repress a +sigh.</p> + +<p>"Supposing," she thought to herself, "<i>supposing</i> I never see her again! +They might steal her away and let her come back twenty or even fifty +years hence without her knowing that more than a few hours had passed. +She would find me an old broken-down woman, if she found me at all, +which I doubt, for I could not live without her."</p> + +<p>As these gloomy ideas floated through her mind she was standing in the +porch of the cottage, gazing at the forest. Suddenly, a soft chirping +reached her ears, and looking up, she caught sight of a redbreast +perching on the little garden gate. He seemed to look at her, then +spread his wings and flew away, passing near her overhead. And at that +moment there came to the elder girl the same breath of the familiar +delicious perfume which had cheered Linde when she parted with the +robin, and with the same effect. From that moment Aria's misgivings left +her, and to a great extent even her anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said to herself, "she must go. It is meant. It would be +useless for me to interfere."</p> + +<p>This happened on the very morning of the fated day.</p> + +<p>The weather was already almost wintry.</p> + +<p>"Linde," said her sister that evening, "I won't ask you to undress and +go to bed, but I will keep up a good fire here in the kitchen, so that +you shall at least start warm. And you shall have a cup of good hot soup +last thing."</p> + +<p>"Very well and thank you, dear," Linde replied. "I will sit here in +father's comfortable old chair till the time comes for me to go. And I +will promise to drink all the soup and to put on all my wraps, if you, +Aria, will go to bed as usual and try to sleep till I come back again. +The only thing that would make me lose courage would be to leave you +standing at the door looking after me. I may sleep myself. I daresay I +shall, if I know you are in bed. For I am certain I shall wake in good +time. As to that I have no fear."</p> + +<p>Rather reluctantly, Aria consented to do as Linde wished, on condition +that the little girl gave her promise to come to her at once on her +return, and to arouse her if by chance she were sleeping.</p> + +<p>Linde sat by the fire and listened to the ticking of the old clock, and +the occasional fall of a cinder, till her eyes grew drowsy and she +dozed. Though not conscious of being really asleep, she felt as if but a +few minutes had passed, when the clock striking—more loudly than usual, +it seemed to her—made her start.</p> + +<p>"One, two, three," she counted, on to eleven.</p> + +<p>"Yes, actually eleven," she said to herself. "I have had a nice long +sleep and I feel quite fresh, and it is time to be off."</p> + +<p>She drank the soup, and wrapped herself up; and after laying a large log +on the fire, there to smoulder till she came back, she softly opened the +door and stepped out, closing it again, though happily, in that peaceful +and friendly part of the world, there was no need for bars or bolts.</p> + +<p>A little exclamation of surprise escaped her as she glanced about her. +It was full moon—the garden and the open space between it and the +beginning of the forest were flooded with light. Somehow she had not +expected this. In fact, relying upon the mysterious guidance and help +which she felt sure would be given to her, she had not troubled herself +beforehand about how it was all to be managed, and the sisters went so +early to bed that they were often asleep before moonrise, if it were +late.</p> + +<p>Linde smiled to herself with pleasure and ran gaily through the garden +and along the field-path. And for some little way inside the forest her +route was quite clear. But after a while it grew darker. The trees +became more dense, and denser still she knew they would be the farther +she advanced. So she walked more slowly, looking well about her, and now +and then pressing the three precious feathers in the front of her +bodice.</p> + +<p>"The great thing is not to miss the little path," she kept repeating, +and after she had walked what seemed a considerable way, she began to +fear she had done so.</p> + +<p>Then for the first time her courage threatened to fail her, and her +heart took to beating much faster than was pleasant. She stood still. +Strange uncanny sounds seemed in the air. Wailings far off among the +trees; faint groans and stealthy rustlings as if some weird creatures +were trying to get near her, a sudden sharp screech—it was only an owl, +but that the child did not know!—and then the very curious, very thin +and minute squeal of a bat, so seldom audible to human ears.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear," whispered Linde. "Robin, have you tricked me? I don't know +where I am, and though it is so lonely, I seem to feel invisible +creatures all about me. Oh, robin, you didn't tell me it would be so +difficult to find the way."</p> + +<p>Then something touched her foot; she gave a little scream, till looking +down she perceived a point of light just in front of her, and heard a +well-known voice.</p> + +<p>"Foolish child," it said. "You might trust me. This is the entrance to +the path. You have only to follow me."</p> + +<p>"Are you carrying a lamp—a fairy lamp?" asked Linde in a tone of great +relief. "Why—I could fancy it was a glow-worm, only it is far too late +in the year."</p> + +<p>"You are right," said her guide. "It is a glow-worm. We take care of +them—they sleep down below all the winter. But I woke up this fellow +on purpose. He is quite comfortable on my back. Now we must make haste. +Follow me steadily till we come to the magic circle. Then you must act +for yourself—you know what to do."</p> + +<p>He flew forward—near enough to the ground for Linde to keep the tiny +light well in view. And to her surprise she found she could make her way +quite easily without stumbling or hesitation, and now and then a faint +whiff of scent reached her, as if to increase her confidence, though +whether it was wafted back from the redbreast's wings or upwards from +the little bunch of feathers, she could not have told.</p> + +<p>And at last—for, after all, making your way in the dark is very +monotonous work—the light stopped just in front of her, and she +realised that she was standing before the thickly growing bushes which +hedged the clearing. And before she had time to wonder how to push her +way through, the shrubs seemed to divide, as if held back by invisible +hands, and through the opening thus made, Linde caught sight of the +magic circle gleaming like silver in the moonlight.</p> + +<p>Her guide had vanished, but now without hesitation she ran forward, +till she reached the central spot, where the rose-bush had risen to +view, and whence she had been told she would find her way to the unknown +regions below.</p> + +<p>She stood still for a moment or two, somewhat dazzled by the sudden +radiance, soft and lovely though it was. Then she stooped and examined +the ground, but the smooth, even turf showed not the least sign of an +opening of any kind, such as she had half expected to see. As she stood +up again her fingers touched the front of her dress and she remembered +the feathers.</p> + +<p>"I am to tap with them," she reminded herself. "But not till the fairy +clock strikes twelve. Shall I ask what time it is now? No, I think it is +better to wait quietly. I am sure I am not too late, but I think it must +be nearly midnight."</p> + +<p>She felt curiously calm, and very wide-awake. There was not the very +slightest sound to be heard—a complete contrast to the surrounding +forest—not a rustle, not a murmur, never had Linde before realised what +utter silence could be. She almost felt as if she herself should not +move a finger, scarcely even breathe. And when in a little she became +conscious that her heart was again beating much faster than its wont, +she felt as if she must press it tightly to make it be quiet. And the +gesture once more recalled the feathers. She drew them out.</p> + +<p>"Best have them ready," she thought.</p> + +<p>Then she stood motionless.</p> + +<p>And suddenly, coming upwards to her, and yet sounding in the silent air +as if all around her, came the fairy chimes—one, two, three, four, for +the completed hour, and then the sweet musical deeper note, twelve times +repeated.</p> + +<p>Linde was all alert.</p> + +<p>She stooped at once and tapped three times with the three tiny feathers.</p> + +<p>And then what exactly happened she could not have told. She felt herself +lifted a little way and made somehow or other to sit down on what seemed +a soft cushion. It was really a thick, round sod of turf, and as soon as +she was seated on it, it began to descend—down, down, making her at +first feel rather giddy, though it moved slowly. She shut her eyes, and +the giddiness left her. Then she opened them, but all seemed darkness +for some seconds, till a faint light began to creep up, growing brighter +as her strange journey continued, and at last steadying into a pleasant +glow, not glaring or bewildering, but clear and bright, so as to show +all surrounding objects distinctly.</p> + +<p>Linde sprang to her feet in delight. She was in the sweetest place she +had ever dreamed of. Sweet in every sense, for it was a small garden of +the beautiful rose-bushes, like the one the robin had shown her. And the +scent was the exquisite one so familiar to her.</p> + +<p>She was standing at the entrance to a sort of bower, or niche, in the +midst of the fragrant bushes, and glancing into it she saw that there +was a little hillock in its centre, and on this hillock were perched +what at first seemed to her hundreds of redbreasts. In reality, I think +there were about fifty—all motionless, till from their midst flew out +one, whom by some instinct Linde recognised as her old friend.</p> + +<p>"Birds," he said, for, to the fairy-touched ears of the child, chirps +were words, "birds! She has come. And the time has come. Friends, bid +her welcome."</p> + +<p>And a lovely welcome it was which poured from the many little throats.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dear robins," said Linde, feeling sure that she was expected +to say something, "thank you, dear birds. You know I love you, and I do +hope you will soon come to live in the forest again. But now please +tell me what it is you want me to do."</p> + +<p>There was a sudden loud flutter of wings. All the robins at the same +moment flew upwards from the hillock and perched themselves in clusters +among the rose-trees which formed the bower. Only one remained on the +hillock. Linde knew him for her guide. Beside him lay a small bright +object. It was a finely made and polished spade.</p> + +<p>He touched it with one of his claws.</p> + +<p>"Take this, Linde," he said solemnly, "and dig. But first, stroke it +with the three feathers."</p> + +<p>"Where am I to dig?" asked the little girl, as she obeyed him.</p> + +<p>"Here of course," was the reply, "here. It is the tomb of our ancestor, +where for fifty years he has lain entranced."</p> + +<p>Linde lifted the spade. It was beautifully light.</p> + +<p>"What a dear little tool it is!" she thought to herself. "I wish they +would let me keep it. It would be lovely for careful digging round the +delicate tiny roots that are so easily damaged."</p> + +<p>But these reflections she kept to herself, for she felt the fifty pairs +of bright eyes upon her. Just at present it was a question of doing what +she was told.</p> + +<p>So she stroked the spade with her tiny feather posy, and then stepped +forward close to the green mound. In her heart she felt doubtful as to +whether the toy spade would be strong enough to cut through the turf. +But as the robin flew up to a neighbouring branch, thus leaving the +coast quite clear for her operations, there was nothing for it but to +try. And to her satisfaction the blade glided through the sods almost +without any effort of hers. In fact it seemed to direct her movements, +so that in a very short time a neat round hole was made in the little +hillock, revealing a sort of nest of the well-known dried rose-leaves, +in the midst of which lay the tiny body of a—to all appearance +dead—robin redbreast.</p> + +<p>"Lift him," whispered her friend, evidently in the greatest excitement.</p> + +<p>Linde did so, carefully and almost reverently. He was a most beautiful +bird, a king of his kind. His feathers were smooth, his breast rich in +colouring, his eyes closed. There was nothing death-like or painful +about him, except—ah yes—Linde could not repress a little shiver at +the sight—a small dart or arrow transfixed the dainty body, pinning one +wing to his side, where a drop of blood told its cruel tale.</p> + +<p>"Draw it out," came the next command.</p> + +<p>"I feel as if it would hurt him," murmured Linde tremulously. But there +came a sort of trill of entreaty from the fifty watchers, and she felt +that she must obey. So mastering her own misgiving, she took firm hold +of the head of the dart, and deftly drew it out, thinking as she did so, +"It will hurt him less if I do it quickly."</p> + +<p>It took some little strength, but it did not break, and to her surprise +the hole it should have left, disfiguring the pretty creature, closed at +once. Then the bird gave a sudden shiver, a thrill of returning life +passed through him—Linde herself was conscious of it in her +fingers—his eyes unclosed; he looked up at her, then, with a wonderful +note of exceeding joy, he spread his wings and flew round the bower, +returning again to perch on the child's still outstretched hand, as if +in gratitude.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus3" id="illus3"></a> +<img src="images/illus3.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>With a wonderful note of exceeding joy, he spread his +wings and flew round the bower, returning again to perch on the child's +still outstretched hand, as if in gratitude.</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>And then—and then—oh if you could have heard the carol of delight that +burst out from the comrades of the spell-freed redbreast! It was too +beautiful to describe; nor could it be described in human language. For +after all, exquisite as may be the bird songs—nightingales' or +thrushes', blackbirds' or larks', which delight us, it cannot, I fear, +fall to our lot to hear them, as did favoured Linde, in fairyland!</p> + +<p>She stood enraptured till the melody subsided and there was silence +again, broken by the voice of the small master of the ceremonies.</p> + +<p>"It is done," he said, "and perfectly done. The spell is broken, the sad +enchantment ended. The forest is our own again. Our beloved ancestor +restored to us and to the life of which he was so cruelly deprived +before he had had his rightful share."</p> + +<p>"Oh the joy of it, the joy of it!" trilled the resuscitated bird, as he +fluttered from Linde's hand to her shoulder, and a chorus of sympathy +burst out again.</p> + +<p>But Linde's guide had not yet finished his speech. He held up one claw +and there was silence.</p> + +<p>"Friends," he began again. "What is to be this maiden's reward for what +she has done? Our gracious lady protector, the Queen of the Fairies, has +left it to us to decide. We must be generous as well as grateful, for +Linde deserves it of us—and remember, but for her sweet and loving +nature, not all her courage in braving alone the cold and darkness could +have succeeded. Brothers, shall we let her choose her reward?"</p> + +<p>A universal chirp of "Yes, yes" was the reply.</p> + +<p>So the speaker turned again to the little girl.</p> + +<p>"Linde," he said, "good Linde, you who have never been guilty of a cruel +unkind deed, Linde, you who have been brave and obedient, what do you +choose?"</p> + +<p>"Oh robin, dear robin," she exclaimed, "I think you must know already. +The leaves, the delicious leaves from the redbreast's roses—if we may +always have these, Aria and I will be safe and happy. I will come to +fetch them in the middle of the night or whenever you like—and," she +added, with a little smile, "<i>might</i> I have the fairy spade too?"</p> + +<p>The robin held up his claw again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," came the answer in bird language, followed by some chirps +which Linde's ears were not yet "fairy-wise" enough to translate.</p> + +<p>"Your requests are granted," said the president. "You may keep the +spade," for it was still lying beside her. "Small as it is, it is +endowed with magic power. If you keep it bright and clean it will do +good work in your garden. And my friends and relations, headed by our +revered ancestor," he waved his claw, and the kingly robin fluttered to +Linde's head, where he gave an approving chirp, replied to by the +audience, "desire me to say that it will not be necessary for you to +fetch the leaves. You will only require to place the old jar on the +window-sill overnight whenever it needs replenishing, laying the three +feathers inside it; and in the morning it will be filled as you wish."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, thank you," cried Linde again, "and now, dear robins, I must +hurry home. I shall never forget this lovely place. May I never come +again?"</p> + +<p>Her guide answered rather sadly.</p> + +<p>"I fear not. Few, very few, mortals have come even as far as an entrance +to fairyland. Nor could you ever find this spot again, try as you might. +But we—we robins, will often see you in the forest, no longer forbidden +ground."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is true," Linde replied cheerfully. "Then good-night—not +good-bye, to you all, and please tell me how I am to get up again to the +clearing, so as to run home to relieve Aria's anxiety and tell her the +good news."</p> + +<p>"That <i>we</i> will manage," said her first friend. "Birds!"</p> + +<p>There was an answering flutter.</p> + +<p>"Seat yourself comfortably, my child, and close your eyes."</p> + +<p>Linde obeyed, but not before seeing and feeling that all the assembled +robins were flying down and surrounding her, so that with the velvety +softness of the grassy sod and the fluffy feeling of the feathered +creatures encircling her, she seemed in a cosy nest, and already +somewhat sleepy. Then a slight touch on the top of her head made her +start a little.</p> + +<p>"It is only we two," chirped her guide, "I and the noble bird who owes +his life to you. We are here to direct the air voyage. Rest, my child, +rest and be at peace."</p> + +<p>Linde did not know that she fell asleep, though afterwards she knew it +must have been so. She felt herself rising, rising—then a breath of +colder air met her face, and—that was all she knew, till—she awoke, +and found herself in the porch of the cottage, and—to prove the night's +adventures had been no dream, in one hand the little spade, in the other +the three red feathers, still firmly clasped.</p> + +<p>She was a very practical maiden, in spite of her fairy perceptions, so +the first thing she did was to lay the small treasures safely in the old +jar, saying to herself, and "to-morrow night—no, I should say to-night, +we will place it outside on the window-sill and in the morning it will +be filled with the lovely leaves. What news, what joy to tell Aria!"</p> + +<p>She ran upstairs—softly—but her sister was awake.</p> + +<p>"Darling," she said, "are you really safely back? Yet I have not been +anxious. Somehow I felt you were all right and I have had a peaceful +sleep."</p> + +<p>Then Linde told her the whole wonderful story and showed her the little +spade. And at night you may be sure they did not forget to put the jar +in the appointed place, to find it in the morning replenished with +rose-leaves whose perfume seemed even more delicious than ever before. +So Saturday found them with plenty of their treasured wares for sale, +and quickly were they bought.</p> + +<p>Nor was this only temporary good fortune.</p> + +<p>The fame of their dried roses spread far and wide, and orders came from +great distances, so that the two sisters were able not only to go on +living together in greater comfort than they had ever known, but even to +lay aside savings for a possible "rainy day."</p> + +<p>Though as far as I could learn—this story, you know, is of a fairly +long ago "once upon a time"—that day never came to the happy girls. +The robins never failed them. The cottage garden and the neighbouring +forest grew to be famed for the peculiarly beautiful redbreasts which +there abounded. The uncanny reputation of the woods was quite forgotten, +and on the contrary it was said to bring good luck to those who often +strolled about in them.</p> + +<p>I think both Aria and Linde married in due time and had happy homes of +their own. One or other certainly did so, for the country-folk of that +remote part of the world, from whom I learnt the story, showed me a +specially lovely rose—"the robins' rose," it was called, and told me +that it had been cultivated by the descendants of the sisters, till, for +some reasons which I could not discover, the family had moved elsewhere.</p> + +<p>"And they do say," added one aged dame, "that they grew to be rich and +important, much looked up to and respected, which one can believe, if +they took after their great-grandmothers and were favoured by the 'good +people,' as those pretty maidens were."</p> + +<p>I suppose the old jar and the magic spade were carried away as +heirlooms, for though I looked about in some very curious antique shops +in the neighbouring town, hoping to find one or both, I never succeeded +in doing so, nor could I trace the family at all, which is scarcely to +be wondered at, as no one still living remembered the sisters save by +the quaint names of "Aria" and "Linde"—names which I love, and which I +hope this story may lead others to love also.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="A_Magic_Table" id="A_Magic_Table"></a>A Magic Table</h2> + + +<p>Once upon a time—how long ago really does not matter—there lived in a +certain country—and where that country is, does not matter +either—three young men of about the same age. They were not brothers, +but they had always been neighbours, and they must have been some sort +of cousins, for they had an old relation whom they all called uncle and +who called them all nephews.</p> + +<p>"Nephew Hodge," "nephew Giles," and "nephew Michael." Those were their +names, though I fancy the last—he was the youngest—was more often +"Mike" than "Michael."</p> + +<p>They were all three steady, well-behaved fellows, and very friendly with +each other, which was natural as in several ways their circumstances +were curiously alike. They were all orphans, and though Hodge and Giles +had sisters, these were married and settled at a distance, and as for +Mike he had nobody at all belonging to him, and as he was a very +affectionate creature, but for his two friends he would have felt lonely +indeed. They were all poor—very poor—the one thing each had inherited +from his parents was a home, such as it was. Just a small cottage with a +bit of garden ground, which in their leisure hours each cultivated to +the best of his ability, thus growing some hardy fruit and vegetables +which helped to support them, and a few pretty flowers, to brighten +things up a bit.</p> + +<p>They had a little friendly rivalry over these tiny gardens. Hodge's +produced the best vegetables, Giles's the finest fruit, but young +Michael's far and away the loveliest flowers. And instead of quarrelling +as to which of them deserved the most praise as a gardener, like +sensible fellows, each gave a present to the other two of his special +triumphs.</p> + +<p>There was still another curious bond between the three—which in most +cases would have been the very reverse of a bond, and pretty certainly +would have dissolved the friendship. They were all in love with the same +girl. A charming girl she was, but of her, more shall be told hereafter. +Perhaps the hopelessness of their admiration for her helped to keep the +peace, for they were far too poor to aspire to her, as she was a damsel +with a dowry of gold and silver, as well as of sweet looks and sweet +character. So the three used to sit together and sing her praises with +no bitterness or jealousy.</p> + +<p>The cottages stood at some distance apart, half or a quarter of a mile +or so between them. So that in busy seasons, such as hay-making or +harvesting, our friends sometimes saw very little of each other for days +at a time, as they were not labourers on the same farm. But the long +dull winter evenings they made a point of spending together, taking +their cottages in turns as a meeting-place, for as to comfort, the three +dwellings were much of a muchness, though Mike's somehow always looked +the nicest, as in summer he adorned it with his flowers, and even in +winter managed to tie up bunches of pretty leaves and bright-coloured +berries to give his kitchen a cheerful air.</p> + +<p>And besides these friendly evenings, the three young men always met on +Sundays, and that all the year round. For on that day they had a +standing invitation to dine with the old uncle, who was, as I forgot to +say, also godfather to all three.</p> + +<p>This personage was in some ways very peculiar and indeed rather +mysterious. Strange stories were whispered concerning him through the +country-side. Some said that he was a wizard; nearly all agreed that, at +best, he had dealings with "the good people." But though to a certain +extent he was feared, he was not disliked, as on more than one occasion +he was known to have shown great kindness to families in distress, +though how he came to hear so quickly of other folks' troubles remained +a mystery, as he lived at a considerable distance from any other +dwelling, and was too infirm ever to leave his own cottage.</p> + +<p>He was of course reputed to be very rich, but that, as you will learn, +was a mistake. And a miser he could not well be called, considering the +kind actions I have alluded to, and the steady hospitality he showed to +his godsons, Hodge, Giles, and Michael. The truth was—and there need be +no secret about it—that "Uncle Peter" had a small pension for life, +sufficient to keep him in simple comfort. For long ago he had been a +soldier and a brave one, though he seldom talked of those old days. Sad +things had happened to him, and for many years he had been a lonely man +before, just about the time these grandnephews of his were born, he +wandered back to the part of the country which had been his home as a +boy, there, like Rip Van Winkle, to find none of his generation left, +though he made friends in his own way with the remaining members of his +family and their children.</p> + +<p>Peter had travelled far and had seen queer places and queer people and +had learnt some queer things. It was no great wonder that he got the +name of being something of a wizard, for there was no doubt that he knew +of things happening or going to happen in ways that could not be +explained. But notwithstanding this, he was not regarded with fear, only +with a kind of respectful awe. Even his godsons felt this, though at the +same time they were really attached to him and grateful for his +hospitality, in itself of a very strange character. For though he was +never known to buy food of any sort, and was supposed to live entirely +upon the fruit and vegetables he himself grew, and though he had no one +to cook for him and no fireplace or stove where anything but the very +simplest things could be boiled or roasted or even heated, the weekly +dinner provided for his three guests, every Sunday, was of the very +best. Not only was the food of excellent quality, it was also abundant. +Indeed, at times when work was short, as in the winter often is the +case, both for artisans in towns and for labourers in the country, I +doubt if the three cousins would have kept as well and hearty as they +did but for this substantial and nourishing meal regularly once a week.</p> + +<p>They had often wondered how Uncle Peter managed it, and once or twice +they had hazarded a tactful enquiry of their host on the subject. But it +had served no purpose. On the contrary, both Hodge and Giles, who had +been the questioners, had been quickly silenced by the old man's reply.</p> + +<p>"Did you never hear the proverb about not looking a gift horse in the +mouth?" he said the first time. "True, there is nothing about my dishes +which you are not free to test if you choose, both as to quality and +cooking. All the same, I think the saying conveys a broad hint as to the +courtesy suited to those who accept a gift."</p> + +<p>And to Giles he was even more severe.</p> + +<p>"When you invite me to a Sunday feast, my good nephew," he said, "I +promise to eat thereof with gratitude, and with no curiosity as to +whence or how you procured it," at which reprimand Giles looked very +foolish, and could only humbly ask Peter's pardon, adding, "That day, I +misdoubt me, my respected uncle, will never dawn."</p> + +<p>For, as I have already said, the three young men were very poor.</p> + +<p>Still, when they were sitting of an evening by themselves, with no fear +of offending the old man by their talk, it was only natural that they +should discuss the mystery. There was a peculiar rule about their Sunday +visit. They were obliged to be exceedingly punctual, by which I mean, +neither too early nor too late. Half an hour after noon was the +appointed time, so they arranged to meet at church, and when the service +was over to wait in the porch till the ancient clock struck twelve, as +they found that by then starting at once for Peter's cottage and walking +rather quickly they reached it just a minute or two before the dinner +hour.</p> + +<p>Often, when waiting thus at the church door, they would receive a smile +and a nod from the girl they all adored—pretty Ysenda—and now and then +she would even stop a moment and say to whichever of the three happened +to be nearest at hand, "My love to Uncle Peter, and a pleasant visit to +him." Not that he was her uncle or any relation, but she had got into +the habit of going to see him sometimes out of pity for his loneliness, +and the old man had taken a great fancy to her. In fact she was the only +visitor he ever received, with of course the exception of the nephews on +Sunday.</p> + +<p>Once—some time ago it was, when the custom had first begun—Michael had +by accident arrived at Peter's cottage some minutes before the others. +He was on the point of knocking at the door when something stopped him. +He afterwards declared that he did not know what. But standing there, he +heard sounds within—curious sounds—his uncle's voice, slow and solemn +as if reciting something, then a very delicate tinkle as of a tiny bell, +and lastly a whirring sound as of wheels moving quickly, and then +complete silence. And while he was debating as to whether he should +knock or not, to his relief he heard his cousins' footsteps approaching. +He turned back a little way to meet them, but before he had time to tell +them what he had heard, the door opened and their host stood there +bidding them welcome.</p> + +<p>Ever after that they all three came together as I have told you, and +waited at a little distance till their uncle made his appearance. For +Michael confided to his cousins that there had been something uncanny +about the mysterious sounds. Furthermore he felt instinctively that he +had not been meant to overhear them, and that if Peter knew of it he +might have been angry, and possibly would never have invited them again.</p> + +<p>Hence, Michael, of the three, was the most careful as to what he said to +the old man, and never did he venture to show any curiosity on the +subject of the whence or how of the mysterious feast.</p> + +<p>But now and then he had a queer feeling that pretty Ysenda +<i>knew</i>—what?—he could not define it, more clearly than by suspecting +that she was in old Peter's confidence in a way that he and his friends +were not.</p> + +<p>And one evening—it was a Saturday—when the three were sitting together +in his cottage, he expressed something of the kind to Hodge and Giles. +They were very much surprised.</p> + +<p>"She is a good, true-hearted maiden," he added. "I don't for a moment +mean that she has any selfish motives for her attentions to our +godfather."</p> + +<p>"That's to say you don't suspect her of trying to supplant us in his +favour, as to inheriting whatever he has to leave?" said Hodge. There +was some suspicion in his tone, much as he admired Ysenda.</p> + +<p>"One never knows," added Giles. "<i>She</i> may have no thought of the +kind—why should she? She is rich already—all the same, Uncle Peter may +make her his heir, without her being to blame."</p> + +<p>"I think it most unlikely," replied Michael. "No such idea was in my +mind. Besides," he went on, growing rather indignant, "Ysenda is just +the girl to put a stop to anything unfair. She is as kind and generous +as a woman can be. We all know of her goodness in any case of poverty or +distress that she hears of. No, all I meant was that she may know +something of Uncle Peter's dealings with the 'good people'; she is just +the sort of sweet maiden that the fairies love."</p> + +<p>"Maybe," said Giles, who was not very ready to believe in anything he +could not see with his own eyes, "maybe she herself is the only fairy in +the matter. Maybe <i>she</i> provides the feast."</p> + +<p>"Impossible," said Hodge and Mike, and so it was.</p> + +<p>"Anyway," persisted Giles, "I daresay it's she who tells him of the +misfortunes and accidents he gets to know of so quickly."</p> + +<p>"On the contrary," replied Michael, "she has told me herself that it has +often been Uncle Peter who has been <i>her</i> informant in such matters, and +that he has employed her to carry assistance to the sufferers. There +was that great fire last winter at Olden Wood. She happened to see him +the very same morning while it was still blazing, five miles off, and no +one hereabouts knew of it! And the letter from over the sea telling of +Widow Martha's son's death, reducing her to poverty, for he'd been a +good son, always sending her money. <i>Why</i>," Mike went on very solemnly, +"<i>he knew what was in that letter</i> before it had reached Martha's +hands!"</p> + +<p>There was no reply to this. Even Giles was much impressed, and all three +started when just at that moment there came a tap at the door, for it +was getting late, and being far on in the autumn the evening grew dark +very early.</p> + +<p>The cousins looked at each other half timorously, for even the bravest +of men—and they were by no means cowards—may be momentarily frightened +by anything uncanny.</p> + +<p>The tap was repeated.</p> + +<p>Michael got up and opened the door cautiously. What he expected to see +he could not have said, but a witch astride on a gander, or a goblin +with scarlet ears as big as a donkey's and a long tail, would scarcely +have surprised him!</p> + +<p>Instead—how different!—there stood two small figures—children +evidently, and as a very plaintive little voice reached him, he threw +open the door more widely, so that the light from within fell on the +new-comers, and he perceived that they were a boy and girl, apparently +about twelve or fourteen years old, poorly though decently clad, each +carrying a bundle, and with pale, travel-tired faces.</p> + +<p>"Please," said the voice—it was the boy's, the elder of the two—"oh +please can you tell me if Dame Martha Swann lives here or near here?"</p> + +<p>Michael started again. It was of this very dame he had just been +speaking. Were these two of the "good people" in disguise, come to visit +him for some mysterious reason? He took care to answer very politely.</p> + +<p>"Not here, but not so very far off," he replied, and the gentleness of +his tone encouraged the child to ask further. "Then can you show us the +road there? We are dreadfully tired—at least my little sister is, and +we have lost our way somehow."</p> + +<p>As the boy went on speaking, Michael's misgivings left him. The two were +plainly ordinary human beings, though something in the child's voice or +accent showed that they did not belong to this part of the world.</p> + +<p>"Come in and rest yourselves for a while," said Mike. "Warm yourselves +too. It is a chilly evening."</p> + +<p>"Oh thank you," was the reply, as the two eagerly accepted his +invitation. He led them towards the fire and drew forward seats, while +Hodge and Giles, their pipes in their hands, stared in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Whom have we here?" exclaimed Hodge; his tone sounded suspicious, and +Giles too hung back a little.</p> + +<p>"How should I know?" said Michael sharply. "You see as much as I. +Whoever they are and wherever from, it's surely the least one can do to +let them rest for a few minutes. No doubt they can explain about +themselves. You were asking for old Dame Martha, my boy?" he went on.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," was the ready reply, "we are her grandchildren. My name is +Paul—Paul Swann, like father," his voice shook, "and——"</p> + +<p>"I'm Mattie," said the girl, speaking for the first time. "That's for +'Martha,' like granny. Oh how I wish this was her house! I'm so tired."</p> + +<p>"Poor little maid," said Michael kindly. "Well it's not so far to your +granny's, and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll carry you there myself. +But first you must have a bite of bread and a drink of milk. I'll have +it ready in a minute," and he turned to the cupboard, which was almost +as bare as Mother Hubbard's, for the bread and milk were all there was +for his own breakfast!</p> + +<p>The children were famishing. The food disappeared in a twinkling. Then +the boy explained that they had come all across the sea to take refuge +with their grandmother in their desolation since their father's death, +for their mother had died five years ago. Some kindly disposed people +had seen them on board the ship, and given them a little money to carry +them the rest of the way on landing. But the very first night ashore +some wicked person had stolen it, so there was nothing for it but to +come on, on foot. It was really no very great distance, not more than +eight to ten miles from the seaport, but they were strangers in a +strange land, almost afraid to ask their way, and they had probably +wandered astray. This was their pitiful story.</p> + +<p>But already Michael's kindness had revived them, and they stood up, +eager to get to the only home they had now a chance of. The cousins +looked at each other. What was in store for the poor things? Their +grandmother, a loving soul, would welcome them no doubt, and share with +them all she had. But that "all" was really nothing. She was feeble and +crippled with rheumatism. But for old Peter and his friend Ysenda, she +would before this have risked dying of starvation.</p> + +<p>However—"Cheer up," said Michael, as he hoisted little Mattie on to his +shoulder, Paul loading himself with the bundles. "Cheer up. We'll be at +the good dame's in no time. Giles," he went on, for Hodge was looking +sulky and disapproving, "Giles, you might do worse than help the boy—or +at least bring a bundle of my faggots and come with us. Martha's fire +will be none too big."</p> + +<p>Giles started forward, half shamed into doing his part—and Hodge, who +was, after all, more stupid than bad-hearted, drew out of his pocket two +small copper coins, which he handed to Paul.</p> + +<p>"Tell your granny," he said, "that's to help to get you some milk for +breakfast from the farm near by her cottage."</p> + +<p>Paul smiled gratefully and thanked him.</p> + +<p>Then they set off—Hodge walking with them a part of the way, till he +reached the turning to his own home.</p> + +<p>The poor dame was still up—sitting by the tiny fire in her kitchen, +grudging to lose any of its welcome warmth, when Michael—leaving the +others at the door—stepped in warily with a cheerful "good evening," so +as not to terrify the lonely old woman.</p> + +<p>Mingled indeed were her feelings, as you can imagine. Loving delight as +she clasped the little travellers in her trembling arms, though even in +that first moment the dire misgiving seized her as to how they were to +be fed and clothed! So pathetic are often the greatest joys of the very +poor.</p> + +<p>But the children for the moment had no such fears.</p> + +<p>"Oh granny, granny," cried the little girl, "it is so sweet, so lovely +to have found you," and Paul turned away to hide the tears which he +thought himself too big a boy to give way to.</p> + +<p>They were near Michael's own eyes, and even Giles had a lump in his +throat as he set to work to build up the fire with the bundle of his +cousin's faggots.</p> + +<p>The dame looked about her anxiously.</p> + +<p>"My darlings, you must be hungry," she was beginning, but the little +new-comers interrupted her.</p> + +<p>"No, no," they said, with the quick thoughtfulness of the children of +their class, "this kind man," pointing to Michael, "gave us supper at +his house. We only want to go to bed, and it will be so beautiful to +wake in the morning and to find we are with our own granny."</p> + +<p>"And I have money to get some more bread and milk for breakfast," added +Paul, jingling the two coppers in his pocket, "so that will be all +right."</p> + +<p>With the help of the two young men, a bed was soon made up for the boy +on the old kitchen settle, as there was room for little Mattie beside +the dame. Everything in the cottage was scrupulously clean, for to have +had it otherwise would have broken Dame Martha's heart, and by the handy +way that the children moved about, tired though they were, she was +pleased to see that they had been well and carefully brought up. So for +the moment she tried to dismiss her anxiety.</p> + +<p>But when the cousins said good-night and set off on their way home +Michael's heart felt heavy for the little family.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" he murmured, "if only I were rich!"</p> + +<p>"What then?" asked Giles. "You'd be for taking the lot of them on your +shoulders, I suppose. Well, as things are, you can't do so. Of course +they must all go to the workhouse, though to-night it would have been +cruel to hint at such a thing."</p> + +<p>Michael said nothing, but he had some hope that this might be avoided.</p> + +<p>That very day—I have said it was a Saturday—a long conversation had +taken place at old Peter's between himself and his favourite Ysenda.</p> + +<p>She had looked in as she often did, and was startled and distressed to +find him far from well.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, in answer to her kindly enquiries, "yes, my dear young +friend, I am failing fast. You must not grieve about it—the thought of +dying is very familiar to me and far from unwelcome. But there is +something I wish to consult you about. You know my secret. You know the +only legacy I can leave behind me. It is as to this that I want to know +your opinion, for you have a good sound judgment as well as a kind +heart. To me myself the greatest pleasure would be to bequeath my magic +gift to <i>you</i>, my dear Ysenda."</p> + +<p>But the girl, as he had in his heart expected, shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, dear Peter," she replied. "There are those nearer to you than I, +and more in need of help. Besides—I know the secret; the fulfilling its +conditions would therefore be no test of my deserving its benefits. Nor +do I stand in want of them. No—dear friend—if, as you kindly say, you +consider my advice worth attending to, I would propose this. Bequeath +the enchanted table to whichever of your three nephews discovers the +inner spell which governs it. In this there will be nothing unfair. You +can teach them the magic words, and then inform them that the further +secret must be sought and found by themselves—or by himself. Hodge is +the eldest—let him have the first trial, then Giles, and lastly +Michael."</p> + +<p>"And if—supposing Hodge succeeds?" said Peter with a rather curious +enquiry in his tone.</p> + +<p>Ysenda's face flushed a little.</p> + +<p>"Well then, it would be all right. He would continue to use his power as +it should be used."</p> + +<p>"And Giles?"</p> + +<p>"In the same way, of course," she replied.</p> + +<p>"But—if both failed, and Mike came to have his try at it?"</p> + +<p>Ysenda raised her pretty head with a gesture of pride.</p> + +<p>"<i>Then</i>," she replied, "it would most certainly be all right. As to +<i>Michael's</i> good heart I have no misgiving whatever. Quite independently +of the spell, no sooner would he have it in his power to show kindness +to any one in need of it than he would be eager to do so."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," said her old friend; and to himself he added, "I +suspected as much. Ah well, they are worthy of each other, and I trust +that all will prosper with them."</p> + +<p>Then after a moment's silence he went on again:</p> + +<p>"I will do as you advise, my child. To-morrow I will announce my +intention, and take the three into my confidence as far as is necessary. +Then when my own summons comes I shall feel that I have acted for the +best—fairly by all, though my own wishes are with that good young +fellow, Michael."</p> + +<p>Ysenda rose to go.</p> + +<p>"You will come again soon?" said the old man. "The sands are running out +quickly, I feel, and I am not likely to be mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Dear Peter," whispered the young girl, and the tears rose to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Bless you, my child," laying his hand on her shoulder. Then just as she +was turning away, a curious, listening expression crept over his face. +"Yes, yes," he murmured, as if in reply to some inaudible voice, "yes."</p> + +<p>Ysenda felt a little frightened, and of this Peter seemed at once aware. +He patted her again.</p> + +<p>"Do not be alarmed," he said, with a smile. "I have no dealings with the +black arts. But certain things are communicated to me in ways that I +must not reveal. And just now—I am glad you were still here. Trouble, +or rather perplexity—for the trouble is mingled with joy—is at hand +for our good old friend Dame Martha. Will you go to see her to-morrow, +Ysenda, and learn about it?"</p> + +<p>"I was already intending to enquire how she is," said the girl. "I will +certainly not fail to see her, and I will do all I can to help her, you +may be sure."</p> + +<p>"Of that I have no doubt," said Peter. "Good-night, my child."</p> + +<p>Many things passed through Ysenda's mind as she walked slowly home. She +had no mother, and her father, though devoted to her, his only child, +was a hard man. He thought her fanciful and romantic, as she had on +several occasions refused to marry to please him. For his great idea was +that her husband should be a wealthy man.</p> + +<p>"He must at least show on his side as handsome a sum as will be the +dowry I give you," he had often repeated. But so far, none of the +suitors that in this respect were approved of by the father had found +favour in his daughter's eyes, so that he began to think the girl had +determined against marrying at all, little suspecting the love that had +already crept into her sweet heart.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well," he thought to himself, "better live single than make a poor +choice of some pauper who would squander her fortune, though for that +matter, unless I look to it, she will be for giving it all away in +charity once the breath's out of my body. Ysenda is too 'giving' by +half."</p> + +<p>And with this idea, rich though he was, the father kept the girl but +slenderly supplied with money. She had to account to him for every +farthing, and only by denying herself many little things she had +naturally a right to expect, was she able to help her poorer neighbours. +And without old Peter's contributions, though in cash he had not much to +give, still less would it have been possible for her to assist those in +need.</p> + +<p>"How I shall miss him!" she said to herself. "For some reasons I could +wish he had bequeathed the magic table to me—to what advantage I could +have used it! But it would not have been fair or right. Oh if only +Michael wins it! Somehow——" and vague hopes began to flutter in her +heart, for that the young fellow—no less than the others, in their own +way—adored her, she could not doubt. "It might make things different," +she thought. But then she resolutely put the idea away. "No, no, I must +not dwell on it. It is almost as if I were looking forward to dear old +Peter's death. And oh, by the bye, I must not forget to go to see old +Martha Swann to-morrow. I wonder what new trouble has befallen +her—trouble mingled with joy, he said, and of course <i>I</i> know, as no +one else knows, that Peter is in touch with the good people; the really +good fairies, they must be, for he would have no dealings with +mischievous, spiteful imps."</p> + +<p>Now I must tell you what happened the next day—the eventful Sunday on +which the old man felt that the time had come for his strange secret to +be revealed to his three godsons.</p> + +<p>They were there in good time as usual, waiting outside for the opening +of the door and their host's appearing.</p> + +<p>Hodge, as was his way, was very hungry and in a hurry to set to work at +the excellent dinner which no doubt awaited them. Giles too agreed with +him that under the circumstances time passed far too slowly. Michael, +who of the three had every reason for more than ordinary hunger, as he +had not tasted food since his early supper the day before, his +breakfast, as you will remember, having been otherwise disposed of—poor +Michael said nothing. His thoughts were running on the two little waifs +that he had escorted to their grandmother, and not only on them and Dame +Martha, but on kind Ysenda. For, coming out of church, she had whispered +to him that she feared their old friend was in trouble. "I am going to +her at once," she said, and ran off before the young man had time to +reply.</p> + +<p>"How did she know?" Michael wondered. "Perhaps through Uncle Peter's +queer ways. However, she'll look after the poor things for a day or two, +though it isn't very much that even Ysenda, bless her, can do, rich +though her father is," for the farmer's peculiarities were no secret.</p> + +<p>So Michael had plenty to think of, as well as of being hungry, while +standing with his cousins outside the old man's cottage.</p> + +<p>And after all, they were kept waiting a shorter time than usual. It +still wanted some minutes to the half-hour after noon when the door +opened and their uncle beckoned to them to enter.</p> + +<p>Even as they did so, they felt that things were not quite the same as on +former occasions. To begin with, the dinner was not ready; far from it, +the table was not even to be seen!</p> + +<p>Hodge's face fell, so did Giles's, as the same misgiving seized them.</p> + +<p>"Supposing he's not going to give us any dinner at all," they thought. +"Maybe he's been too feeble to see to it."</p> + +<p>For a glance showed them that their host had sadly changed, even in a +week. His face was as white as his hair, and as he sank into his old +armchair he almost looked as if he was going to faint. Michael sprang +forward.</p> + +<p>"Dear uncle," he cried, and you may be sure that the fear of losing his +dinner had no place in his thoughts, "dear uncle, you are +ill—suffering. Will you let me run for the doctor?"</p> + +<p>But even as the young man spoke, a little colour returned to Peter's +cheeks and he smiled.</p> + +<p>"No, no, my boy," he said, and his voice was very gentle, "no need for +doctors. I can manage for myself. It was just a turn, but I shall be +better again now for a bit, though not for long. I have been anxious to +see you all to-day, for I misdoubt me if it is not the last time——" +Michael gave a little exclamation of distress, and the other two looked +very grave. "I am very old, you know, my dear nephews, and tired. I +shall be glad to rest. But first I have something to tell you. I have no +money to leave behind me, and but few little possessions, but I have a +secret, and the time has now come for me to reveal it to you three, my +only living relations."</p> + +<p>He stopped for a moment and drank a little water, which seemed to revive +him.</p> + +<p>"The country-folk, you know, call me a wizard," he went on. +"Well—well—it does me no harm! I have learnt some strange things—I +have wandered some little way into regions where few mortals are allowed +to tread; I have had some dealings with beings of another kind of life +than ours; in some ways I have been of use to the 'good people,' as they +are called, and they to me. But such knowledge as I have acquired I can +truly declare I have only used for the advantage of my fellows. My +learning of this sort will pass away with me—I can leave behind me none +of my secrets save one, and this—this spell I am now about to reveal to +you three."</p> + +<p>He stopped again. The eyes of the young men were fixed upon him in +breathless eagerness. What were they about to hear? But some instinct +kept them all silent. Time enough for thanks, thought Hodge and Giles, +when they knew what there was to thank for. And as for Michael, his +curiosity was kept back by the real sorrow he felt at the idea of the +old man's approaching death.</p> + +<p>Peter went on again:</p> + +<p>"As children," he said, "I daresay you heard many of the old fairy tales +handed down for generations—tales to be found in one shape or another +all the world over, it seems to me. So it often struck me that for some +of them, at least, there must be a foundation of truth at bottom, and I +set myself to use my little knowledge of these matters to discover it. I +failed in several cases—I was wanting in certain qualifications. But as +to one so-called legend I succeeded. Do you remember the old tale of the +grateful gnome who taught his human benefactor how to make sure of a +good dinner, by using a certain spell?"</p> + +<p>Hodge pricked up his ears at the word "dinner." So did Giles, but though +they had some vague memory of the well-known story, they were half +afraid to say so, for fear of Peter's cross-questioning them. But +Michael answered at once, for he had always loved fairy stories, that +he remembered the one of the magic table quite distinctly.</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said the old man, "I am going to show you that it was +true, for the spell by which the feast was made to appear still exists. +Now, all of you, listen carefully to my words. I may repeat them thrice, +which will enable you to learn them perfectly, but after the third time +you must trust to your memory."</p> + +<p>Then sitting up erect on his chair, he recited, slowly and distinctly +thrice, as he had said, these words:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Little table, fair to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Magic bell now summons thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread with viands good to taste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairy table, prithee haste!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and after a moment's silence, when he had ended the incantation, he drew +out a tiny silver bell—a mere toy of a thing—and rang it sharply.</p> + +<p>Then there reached the ears of the astonished guests a whirring sound as +if of invisible wheels revolving quickly. It was faint at first, but +gradually seemed to come nearer, or rather, I should say, to rise +upwards. It was of course the same sound which Michael had heard that +Sunday, when he had unwittingly approached too near the cottage before +the appointed time. And suddenly, with a sort of swing as of well-oiled +doors opening swiftly, the flooring drew apart, and before the watchers +could see how or whence it came, there stood in its accustomed place, in +the centre of the kitchen, the table they all knew so well, bearing on +its snow-white cover the tempting savoury dishes, neatly arranged and +steaming hot. Enough truly, so tempting did they look, so excellently +did they smell, to make even the least greedily disposed person's mouth +water.</p> + +<p>For a minute or two the young men were too astounded to speak. Then +Peter smiled.</p> + +<p>"Do not look so startled," he said reassuringly. "The dinner is what you +have enjoyed many and many a time, and it has been sent in the same way. +Have no misgivings. Draw round it, and make a hearty meal."</p> + +<p>They did so with many murmurs of surprise and admiration; and for once, +perhaps, it may be of interest to know of what the dinner consisted. At +one end was a roast capon, cooked to perfection, at the other a ham, of +so delicate a colour and flavour that it must surely have belonged to a +fairy pig! Then there were potatoes, so white and floury that I feel +convinced they must have been whisked over from Ireland, and delicious +green sprouts of the kind that I, as a child, and I daresay many other +children with me, used always to call "fairy cabbages," so exactly like +miniatures of the large ordinary kind are they. And as side dishes, +which apparently were still in fashion in the land of the gnomes or +brownies, stood fruit pies whose pastry melted in your mouth, so light +and flaky was it. And last, not least, a crystal bowl filled with cream, +which surely must have come from Devon or Cornwall, or the places which +match those in fairyland!</p> + +<p>And in spite of their wonder and astonishment the three guests did +justice to the feast, I assure you, for they were all very hungry.</p> + +<p>Their host watched them with satisfaction, though eating but little +himself. And when they had finished and turned to him, as was their +custom, to thank him for their excellent repast, he smiled kindly.</p> + +<p>"Now," he said, "you shall see the end of the matter."</p> + +<p>He rang the bell, and in a moment or two the whirring noise was heard, +the floor gently opened and the table descended, then the aperture +closed and all was as it had been when the three entered the cottage. +And again they gazed in amazement, for on former occasions they had +bidden Peter good-bye and taken leave, with the table and the remains of +the meal still standing in the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the old man. "I do not wonder at your surprise. And now I +must explain further. It is in my power to bequeath my secret to one of +you. In fact I have told a part of the spell to you all. But a part +only. There is a condition attached to its acting successfully which I +cannot and must not tell you. The very fact of my doing so would destroy +the whole. You shall each have a fair chance. You, Hodge, as the eldest +must have the first. Here is the magic bell," and he handed him the +pretty toy as he spoke. "Keep it safely, and use it as you have seen me +do, after repeating the verse I have taught you. Next Sunday at the same +hour; that is the appointed time. But—remember there is a condition +which you must fulfil; consider the matter well in your own mind; ponder +it during the next few days. If you succeed, well and good; if not, you +must pass on the bell to Giles, that he may have his chance. And if he +fails, it will be for Michael. There must be no disputes about it—to do +you justice I do not fear that there will be, for I have watched you +all, and have been pleased to see that you lived in amity, without +jealousy or ill-will. And I have treated you all with perfect fairness."</p> + +<p>"You have indeed," said all the three together, adding, "and we shall +not forget it. Fair play's a jewel."</p> + +<p>"But," said Michael anxiously, "you speak of next Sunday, dear uncle. +May we not meet here again as usual while you are still with us?"</p> + +<p>The old man laid his withered hand kindly on the young fellow's +shoulder.</p> + +<p>"I shall not be here next Sunday, my boy," he said, "and for this you +must not grieve. Now farewell to you all."</p> + +<p>And realising that he wished to be alone, they wrung his hand and went +quietly away.</p> + +<p>And before the sun sank on the following evening the old man had gone, +as he had predicted.</p> + +<p>The three young men all felt saddened by their loss—Michael especially, +the more so when he saw Ysenda dissolved in tears, at the simple little +funeral. How he longed to have a right to comfort her!</p> + +<p>Hodge and Giles, though not without good feeling and gratitude to their +old uncle, were too excited at the prospect of trying to benefit by his +strange legacy, to give very much thought to mourning him.</p> + +<p>"It's my turn first," said Hodge, "and I mean to succeed. But I'm not +going to talk about it. Just you, Giles, and you, Mike, leave me alone. +I have my own ideas."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Giles, "I'm not going to meddle."</p> + +<p>"And as for me," said Michael, "I've really scarce given the matter a +thought."</p> + +<p>Both noticed, however, that Hodge said nothing about their joining him +on Sunday at the usual hour, as they had naturally expected. The loss of +the one really good meal they had till now been sure of, was of +consequence to them, though they were not greedy. To Mike, just at +present, it mattered the most, for the poor fellow was denying himself +in every way he could, so as to help Dame Martha with her grandchildren. +Ysenda was doing her utmost, but just now her father was in a far from +amiable humour, as she had again refused to accept a wealthy suitor, and +to punish her the farmer was doling out even less money than his wont. +So several people whom this little story concerns were in rather low +spirits—Paul and Mattie less so than their elders, for though it was +all their grandmother could do to give them the plainest of food and by +no means very much of that, her love made up for her poverty, and they +were at an age when hopefulness is easy.</p> + +<p>Well—the days passed till came the Sunday on which Hodge was to try the +working of the spell. He was up with the dawn, and instead of going to +church as usual, spent the morning in scrubbing and scouring, till his +kitchen shone like a new pin. For this was the idea that had come to him +as the condition of success. Perfect cleanness! Peter's cottage had +always been a marvel of this; it was whispered that the brownies or some +mysterious beings of the kind acted as his housemaids, and perhaps it +was so, for feeble and stiff as he was, it seemed impossible that he +himself could have kept the boards so spotless, the stove so polished, +the few pots and pans, which were of antique copper, so shining. And for +all we know, the saying was a true one.</p> + +<p>Now Hodge was naturally a bit lazy, and his house by no means as well +cared for as it might have been, and knowing this, it is scarcely to be +wondered at that he hit upon this solution of the riddle. But he was not +of course absolutely certain that it was correct, and for this reason, +regardless of the probable disappointment to his companions, he let them +understand that he did not expect them to be his guests.</p> + +<p>"Another time I may invite them," he said to himself, "but best not +begin by making a rule of it. Besides, if I fail I don't want them to +sit here laughing at me. Not that there's much fear. The good people +can't but be pleased with the way I've scrubbed and tidied. And I don't +object to dining alone. I feel as if I could eat a whole capon to +myself, not to speak of the other toothsome things! And after dinner +I'll be glad of a rest, for working as hard as I've been doing, makes +one ache."</p> + +<p>He tidied up himself as well as his room, and then sat down to wait, the +little bell in his hand. Twelve o'clock, a quarter past, then the +half-hour, and at the moment, Hodge, having locked the door and closed +the shutters for fear of intrusion or interruption, began solemnly to +recite the incantation, which he had got well by heart, and as he +uttered the last words "prithee haste" he lifted the silver toy and rang +it vigorously, then sat listening with intensity.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two he fancied he heard the whirring sound drawing +near, but no—it was the buzzing in his head from his nervousness, for, +stolid as he was, he was strung up with mingled hopes and fears. He rang +again—no result; again he repeated the lines, half hoping he had not +been quite accurate. No—they were as he had written them down and as he +had compared them with the copies taken by his cousins. All was correct. +But—nothing happened! And Hodge, slow and unemotional though he was, +felt ready to shed tears!</p> + +<p>Then he remembered that he was very hungry, and there was nothing but a +crust of dry bread and a scrap of cheese in the house, and on Sundays +there was no means of getting anything else. He had to be content, +therefore, and to make the best of his scanty fare, and then he lay down +on his bed and went to sleep and slept till it was dark, consoling +himself with the thought that as he had failed there was not much chance +of either of the others succeeding, and when he awoke, being on the +whole a good-natured sort of fellow, he put his pride in his pocket and +set off for Giles's, inspired partly, I dare say, by the hope of getting +something to eat!</p> + +<p>He found his two cousins supping together. Their fare was not luxurious +nor abundant, but as he handed the bell to Giles and they saw his +downcast face they at once understood the state of things and invited +him to join them. He was glad enough to do so, and told them his story.</p> + +<p>"And now, Giles," he ended, "it's your turn. Though what you can do to +please the good people more than I did, I can't think."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell you where you went wrong," said Giles. "You should have +invited us too! There's something in numbers, you know—especially in +the number three. And we've always been together at the dinner. Anyway, +I now ask you two to be here next Sunday at the usual time to see me try +my luck."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Hodge rather sheepishly.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," repeated Michael half absently, for his thoughts were +running on other things. Ysenda's face had looked very sad in church +that morning, and he fancied that Dame Martha and her charges were +growing thinner and paler steadily.</p> + +<p>"I'm certain they haven't enough to eat," he thought. "Maybe Giles will +help a bit, if he succeeds," but in his heart he doubted if either Giles +or he himself would fare better than Hodge had done.</p> + +<p>"Yet," he said to himself, "Uncle Peter wasn't the sort to play a trick +on us. And we saw the magic with our own eyes! But I scarce dare hope +that we'll find the secret."</p> + +<p>Sunday—the second Sunday—arrived in due time, and the three cousins +met as arranged at Giles's cottage. Hodge was feeling of two minds. In +one way he did not want Giles to succeed when he had failed; on the +other hand, he greatly missed the excellent weekly dinner, and said to +himself that after all it would be better to enjoy it at his cousin's +than not to get it at all.</p> + +<p>Giles was awaiting them at his door, the little bell in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Come along in," he said. "Uncle Peter used to keep his guests waiting +outside till it was all ready, but as we all saw the whole of it that +last day, I don't see that I need start it all alone. It makes one a bit +shaky and nervous, you see."</p> + +<p>So Hodge and Mike, by no means unwillingly, followed him into the +kitchen. Hodge was as usual very hungry, and again rather excited in +hopes of a good dinner. Michael seemed depressed. He didn't care whether +he was hungry or not; he was far from sanguine as to success for either +Giles or himself; he missed his old uncle, and was rather in low +spirits all round. Still of course he had no thought of refusing to take +part in Giles's effort.</p> + +<p>The three seated themselves, leaving the space for the table's hoped-for +appearance. Giles held the bell in his hand, every now and then glancing +at the old clock in the corner, of which he was the happy possessor.</p> + +<p>"It doesn't keep such very good time," he said in a low voice, "but I +set it right this morning, so it can't be more than a moment or two +slow."</p> + +<p>And then they waited till the long hand approached and slightly passed +the twenty-nine minutes to the fateful half-hour.</p> + +<p>Giles began to recite the charm, the two others listening. He said it +quite correctly, then slowly raising the bell he rang it clearly. Utter +silence. Then—yes—the first whirring was heard, gradually growing +louder as it went on, till with the same sort of spring or swing the +floor opened and up came the table, the mysterious space closing again +at once.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah!" exclaimed Giles, starting up, and even Michael's heart beat +faster with excitement. But Hodge, whose one thought was his dinner, +Hodge's red face grew paler and his expression darkened.</p> + +<p>"Not so fast," he said; "not much hurrahing about it." And then the +others saw what his greedy eyes had at once perceived. The table was, as +ever, covered with a spotless cloth—three places were laid for, as far +as plates and knives were concerned, but on each lay a small loaf of +black or brown bread and a wedge of cheese. That was all! No end dishes, +no side ones—no centre with fruit—nothing but the plain everyday +luncheon they were used to when at work in the fields, and none too much +of it either, and as Hodge added, muttering, "not even a glass of beer"!</p> + +<p>The three looked at each other. Giles and Mike began to laugh, as much +at Hodge's angry disgust as at the thing itself.</p> + +<p>"You've not hit it off, after all," said Michael to his host. "Still, +anything's better than nothing. I vote that we eat what there is," and +he cut a slice off his loaf. The others—Hodge very gloomily—did the +same and began to eat. The provisions were good of their kind.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what I did wrong, or didn't do right," said Giles. "At worst, +Hodge, I've got on better than you, and next Sunday maybe Michael will +manage best of all. Surely you'll get some hot potatoes at least, Mike?"</p> + +<p>"I don't think I'm going to try at all," said the youngest of the +cousins.</p> + +<p>"It's been a mean sort of lega——" began Hodge.</p> + +<p>But before he finished the word, Michael stopped him. "You mustn't speak +against Uncle Peter," he said. "He did his best for us, of that I'm +sure. The spell was not of his making. He had no power over it. He +taught us all he could. Strikes me we're not <i>good</i> enough to succeed, +somehow. Think what he was! So contented and patient, and so unselfish! +Giving away of the little he had, keeping scarce anything for himself."</p> + +<p>"He was always sure of a good Sunday dinner, anyway," grumbled Hodge.</p> + +<p>"And did he keep even that to himself?" queried Michael.</p> + +<p>By this time the table was cleared of the little it had offered. Giles +stood up and held out the bell.</p> + +<p>"We may as well send it back again," he said, ringing, as he spoke, and +in a few moments the whole had disappeared as they had seen it do that +last Sunday at old Peter's.</p> + +<p>Hodge walked off without speaking. Giles turned to Michael—he was still +holding the little bell.</p> + +<p>"Are you in earnest, Mike," he asked, "about giving up your try? If so, +what's to be done with this?"</p> + +<p>He waved the pretty thing in his hand as he spoke. Strange to say, it +gave out no sound. The cousins looked at it curiously. The queer +incident impressed them afresh, and Michael hesitated in his reply.</p> + +<p>"There is no tricking of us in it," he murmured. Then he turned to +Giles.</p> + +<p>"You may as well give it to me," he said. "I'll think it over and let +you know before next Sunday—and Hodge too, for that matter."</p> + +<p>A new idea had struck him and his face brightened. He would consult +Ysenda and abide by her advice, and in the meantime he carefully hid +away the silver bell.</p> + +<p>For two or three days to come he had no opportunity of meeting the +farmer's pretty daughter. But one evening when he had looked in at Dame +Martha's to see how she and the orphans were getting on, he met Ysenda, +on her way thither. She was carrying a basket with what provisions she +had got leave to bring them. For she was too honest to give away +anything belonging to her father without his permission. She stopped at +once, on seeing Mike, who doffed his hat.</p> + +<p>"Good evening," she said, "I am——" but he interrupted her. "Let me +carry that for you. It is heavy," he began, taking hold of the handle.</p> + +<p>"I could wish it were heavier," she said, with a rather pitiful smile. +"I do what I can for the good dame and those dear children, but it isn't +much."</p> + +<p>"It's more than I do," said Michael regretfully.</p> + +<p>"Don't say that," she replied eagerly. "You give all you have to give. +But what irks me is the knowing I <i>should</i> be able to do all needed for +the poor things, if only—my father——" she stopped short. "How are +they?" she went on again. "You have been there, I make sure?"</p> + +<p>Michael blushed.</p> + +<p>"They're fairly well," he said. "It was only a bundle of fire-wood, and, +and—some windfall apples I found—nothing to speak of. The +boy—Paul—has had a bit of work this week. I spoke to our master for +him, but it's a slack time of year, you see."</p> + +<p>Ysenda nodded. Michael had turned and was retracing his steps with her. +For a moment or two neither spoke. Then suddenly the young man looked +at her, with a grave face.</p> + +<p>"Ysenda," he said, "I want your advice," and he went on hurriedly to +relate to her the experiences of the last two Sundays in his cousins' +cottages. She listened attentively, but somewhat to his perplexity she +seemed in no way surprised or discouraged by his story, for when he +ended by saying, "Don't you think I'd best give it up? It doesn't seem +meant for the like of us. Uncle Peter didn't understand maybe that we're +not the same as him—we're too thick-skulled and dull, and not full of +benevolence and charity as he was. The good people don't care to bestow +their benefits on common rough fellows like us," she replied quietly:</p> + +<p>"No, Michael, I don't agree with you. You've got wrong notions. There's +a condition attached to the spell, which must be discovered by yourself. +Uncle Peter told you this plainly. He said nothing about success +depending on your being very clever, or learned in the ways he was, and +he knew none of you were. He knew the condition was one quite possible +for you to fulfil, but it had to be your own doing. Well—Hodge and +Giles have failed—Giles less than Hodge——"</p> + +<p>"Because he wasn't such a selfish pig as Hodge," Michael interrupted, +"still——"</p> + +<p>Ysenda smiled.</p> + +<p>"Still," she went on, "a meal of bread and cheese isn't worth the +trouble. I agree with you. But I don't see why <i>you</i> should not succeed, +though the others have failed."</p> + +<p>"I don't know why I <i>should</i>!" exclaimed he. "I can think of nothing new +to try, and it worries me. I keep dreaming about it night and day, till +I want to throw it over and have done with it. I had a plan——" but he +hesitated.</p> + +<p>"Tell me your plan," she urged.</p> + +<p>"It was this. I thought maybe Hodge and Giles would forget the right +words or miss the time or do something stupid that I could see and guard +against when my turn came, and if so I had planned how I'd invite the +poor dame and her children to the Sunday feast—I'd have just bid them +come a few minutes before the time, the way uncle did with us—and when +I'd got it all ready—steaming hot and all beautiful and tempting, I'd +throw open the door and show them in. My! just to think of it," and his +blue eyes danced with pleasure.</p> + +<p>So did Ysenda's pretty grey ones, but she kept her self-control.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said gently, "why shouldn't you carry out your plan?"</p> + +<p>"Ysenda!" exclaimed Michael, "how could I risk it after the failure of +the others? Supposing I had as good luck as Giles—and how can I be sure +of even that?—a nice feast it would be to invite the poor things to—a +lump of bread and a wedge of cheese! I'd be ashamed past words."</p> + +<p>"You'd have a nice, dainty table, and no doubt, if the good people knew +how many guests you'd asked, they'd lay places for them all, as has +always been the case so far as I understand," said Ysenda. "I'll tell +you what I'd do—I'll help you all I can—let's have some simple fare +ready to fall back upon if need be. I'm sure I can manage a joint of +cold meat and some potatoes, which you can roast in readiness. Then when +you invite Dame Martha and the children just say it's really to take +'pot-luck' with you, so they won't expect over much."</p> + +<p>Michael's face brightened.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Ysenda," he said, "thank you a thousand times. You've +cheered me greatly, and made me think I'd be a coward not to take my +chance. So I'll do as you say. Maybe I can get some vegetables or fruit +to help out the dinner. And I'll just invite them in an off-hand sort of +way, as you advise. A case of 'pot-luck' it certainly will be, if there +never was one before!" and he laughed quite heartily.</p> + +<p>That very evening he invited the dame and her grandchildren, and the +first time he met Hodge and Giles he told them of these expected guests. +Hodge was rather scornful about it, but Giles was more cheery.</p> + +<p>"There's something in numbers," he maintained, "and three's a lucky one. +You're the third to try, and you've invited three, besides us three +ourselves. And—" he added, slapping his cousin on the shoulder as he +spoke—"why yes, Mike, old fellow, fate's smiling on you and no mistake! +Sunday's the third of the month, for sure!"</p> + +<p>Michael's spirits rose still higher.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, Giles," he said. "Well, we'll know before long. And you two +mustn't fail me. If we don't meet at church, I'll depend on you soon +after twelve o'clock on Sunday. Don't be late."</p> + +<p>"No fear," said Giles, and Hodge, who was influenced by the others' +hopefulness, felt his mouth already watering in anticipation of the +excellent fare, echoed "no fear."</p> + +<p>And some quarter of an hour or so before the usual time the three were +settled in their places, Mike, bell in hand, all three pair of eyes +glancing every minute or so at the clock. Now and then Michael's strayed +to the cupboard in the corner, with a comfortable expression, for there, +thanks to Ysenda and his own precautions, there was a good piece of meat +and a few other odds and ends, sufficient for a plain though not very +choice or ample meal.</p> + +<p>At last—and how very slowly do the hands of a clock seem to move, if +one is watching them!—at last the long needle approached the figure +"six" at the bottom of the dial. Mike glanced at his companions.</p> + +<p>"Now for it," he said, and for the life of him he could not prevent his +voice shaking a little. "Here goes," and then pulling himself together +he repeated the rhyme of incantation in a firm clear voice:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Little table, fair to see,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Magic bell now summons thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Spread with viands good to taste,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fairy table, prithee haste!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and after a moment's pause he lifted the silver toy and rang it +cheerily.</p> + +<p>Then—utter silence, save for Michael's drawing a deep breath or +two—and—oh, joy! the whirring sounds began to be heard—no mistake +about it, as they grew louder and nearer. Giles chuckled as he +whispered, "Some good honest bread and cheese, hey, Mike?"</p> + +<p>But he laughs best who wins!</p> + +<p>Michael made no reply. In another moment came the soft swing of the +invisible hinges—the floor opened, and up came the table. You could +almost have fancied that it or its burdens were laughing with pleasure, +for there was a merry clatter among the pretty china plates and +dishes—so closely were they packed, so many were they, though as the +whole finally emerged and settled down as it were, the table seemed to +grow longer, till there was ample space for its six guests. Then the +floor closed, and all was quiet.</p> + +<p>Not so the three cousins.</p> + +<p>"Hurrah in good earnest this time," cried Giles.</p> + +<p>"Hush, my good fellow," said Michael, though his own face was by this +time one broad smile "they'll have come, I'm sure. I must fetch them +in," and he turned towards the door.</p> + +<p>"Stay a moment," interrupted Hodge, who by this time was in high +spirits, busily lifting the covers and examining the viands, "stay, till +I tell you what there is for dinner. The giver of the feast should know +the fare."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Michael, "tell me quickly."</p> + +<p>"There's a couple of ducks," replied Hodge, "stuffed, and roasted to a +turn. How good they smell! And apple sauce and mashed potatoes, and a +plum-pudding—to be sure Christmas is not so very far off now—and a +whole pile of gingerbread snaps with whipped cream, and oranges galore, +for dessert. My word, but the brownies keep first-rate cooks and +caterers."</p> + +<p>Michael had opened the door before his hungry friend had left off +speaking, but he heard Hodge calling after him, "Stop, stop, I've +forgotten the pork pie. Oh, my goodness, such a beauty!"</p> + +<p>In another moment Michael had seized Dame Martha by the hand and was +leading her into the cottage, followed by Paul and Mattie, looking very +neat and clean in spite of their poor clothes, and in not a little +excitement at this visit to the kind young man who had been their first +friend in this strange land.</p> + +<p>"I hope you've not been waiting long," said Mike.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, thank you," the dame replied. "Just a very few minutes. We heard +the church clock strike the half-hour as we drew near."</p> + +<p>The door was wide open. Hodge and Giles greeted the new-comers heartily, +Hodge adding that they'd better set to at once, before the dishes got +cold. But though Dame Martha had very good manners by nature and even by +habit, for in her better days she had been a much-respected upper +servant in an excellent family, she could not restrain an exclamation of +the greatest astonishment when she caught sight of the wonderful display +of good things, and perceived their appetising odour.</p> + +<p>"My dear boy—Michael!" she cried. "What extravagance is this? And you +said it would be just a simple meal—'pot-luck' you called it, if I +remember right?"</p> + +<p>"And pot-luck it is," he replied, laughing. "There's no reason that I +know of why pot-luck shouldn't be good fare, as I hope you will find our +dinner to be."</p> + +<p>There is no need to tell you how the feast was enjoyed. To begin with, +it was flavoured not only with the "best sauce" of the old +proverb—hunger—but also with the excellent additions of friendliness +and gratitude and goodwill, and besides these even, there was a +mysterious feeling of graciousness and prettiness over it all, which I +am inclined to think must have been wafted with the viands from +fairyland itself.</p> + +<p>Never had the children had such a treat, and being modest and unselfish +and far from greedy they enjoyed it all the more, nor was there any +necessity for their grandmother to warn them not to eat too much.</p> + +<p>Every one had enough—indeed Hodge's appetite seemed equal to that of +two ordinary people—but yet when all had replied, "No thank you, +nothing more," to Michael's hospitable offers, the dishes looked by no +means empty, and though he made the children carry off a couple of +oranges each, for a little Sunday treat at home, the pile of fruit +scarcely appeared to have been touched. The thought did cross Michael's +head that he wished he could keep the remains of the feast in his +larder. But "No," he decided, "it would be greedy and might displease +the fairies."</p> + +<p>So when the dame and her grandchildren, with many and many expressions +of gratitude, took their leave—though, by the bye, I must not forget to +tell you that what brought the poor things' pleasure to the <i>highest</i> +height was Michael's telling them that he would expect them at the same +hour and in the same way the following Sunday, "and every Sunday, so +long as my pot-luck continues to suit you," he added—well then, as soon +as the three had left he re-entered the cottage with his cousins and +carefully closing the door, rang the fairy bell for the invisible +attendants to remove the table.</p> + +<p>It disappeared as it had come, obediently to his summons. Then Hodge and +Giles turned to him.</p> + +<p>"The luck's with you, Mike, no doubt about it," they said, but without +any ill-will, it must be allowed.</p> + +<p>"Let's count it as belonging to us all," said hospitable Michael. "It +shall be a fixed rule that you two dine with me every Sunday, same as +to-day. And as long as the good people favour us as they've done this +time, the least <i>we</i> can do is to let those who are less well off than +we, share in our prosperity. I've a feeling that it's what old Uncle +Peter would wish."</p> + +<p>"That's why you mean to have the dame and her boy and girl every +Sunday?" said Hodge. "Well, for my part I wouldn't take upon me to +object. They're nice-mannered children, and the dame's an old friend. +And there was enough and to spare."</p> + +<p>Giles was looking very thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," he exclaimed. "It's the right thing to do, and, as you +say, it's following after our kind old godfather. I say, Mike," he went +on, "maybe—I shouldn't be very surprised if that's how you've hit the +nail on the head—eh, what do you think of that?"</p> + +<p>Michael stared. Such an idea had never occurred to him, and indeed he +scarcely understood what Giles meant. He thought of it afterwards, +however.</p> + +<p>Then his cousins left him, and he began to wish he could manage to see +Ysenda to tell her the good news.</p> + +<p>"She'll be as pleased as I am myself," he thought, "as pleased as if the +good luck had been her own. And after all, it's thanks to her I +persevered. By the bye, I wonder what I should do with that nice piece +of meat she brought me, to fall back upon in case of need. I shouldn't +keep it—maybe she'd like me to take it to the dame. I'll just have a +look at it."</p> + +<p>He turned to the cupboard—it was a sort of larder with a wired opening +to the fresh air, which he had arranged himself, for he was very +neat-handed. But when he drew back the door, he started with surprise. +He could scarcely believe his eyes, and rubbed them hard to make sure he +was not dreaming! For there, neatly placed on the shelves, was not only +kind Ysenda's gift, but all the remains of the dinner—cold duck, pork +pie, plum-pudding, sauces, vegetables, fruit! almost as tempting a sight +as had been the viands on their first appearance, so daintily were they +all arranged, so clean and bright were the china and glass.</p> + +<p>Michael really laughed with pleasure.</p> + +<p>"If only I could tell Ysenda," he said aloud.</p> + +<p>The opportunity for so doing was coming nearer, though he knew it not.</p> + +<p>On their way home Dame Martha and the children met the farmer and his +daughter. Ysenda stopped to speak to them, and her father, who happened +to be in a very good humour, as he had made excellent terms for the sale +of his numerous stacks of hay, accosted the old woman kindly enough, +though he had been one of those who had called her very foolish for +accepting the charge of the penniless orphans.</p> + +<p>"Well, dame," he began, "and how goes the world with you?" and almost +before Ysenda heard the first words of her reply, the young girl +guessed, what indeed she was already sure of, that Michael's trial of +the magic spell had succeeded—so bright and happy looked the dame, so +bursting with joyful excitement were Paul and Mattie.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am all of a tremble with thankfulness," replied Martha. "Such a +feast as we have had! Never was there a kinder host than young +Michael——"</p> + +<p>"And, and," interrupted the children, forgetting their shyness, "we're +to have dinner with him every Sunday—just fancy that! And see what +we've got to take home for a treat," and they held out the beautiful +oranges.</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> pleased——" began Ysenda, but her father interrupted her.</p> + +<p>"Young Michael, did you say," he inquired, turning to the dame, "young +<i>Michael</i>! How comes it that he can afford to give feasts? I thought it +was all he could do to keep himself—not to speak of feasting."</p> + +<p>"And a real feast it was," said Martha, "roast ducks, and pies, +and——"</p> + +<p>"Plum-pudding, and these oranges and apples," the children went on. "And +every Sunday, sir, every Sunday it's to be the same—dinner with him."</p> + +<p>"Glad to hear it," said the farmer, rather shortly.</p> + +<p>Then with a nod of farewell, and a sweet smile from his daughter, the +two walked on.</p> + +<p>For a few moments neither spoke. They were near their own home by this +time. Suddenly the farmer exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Queer business this seems of young Michael's. He's a steady, +hard-working fellow, but none too well-off. Maybe old Peter left him +something after all—unbeknown to any one?"</p> + +<p>He did not exactly ask the question of Ysenda, but he looked at her as +he spoke. He knew how very friendly she had been with the old man. She +smiled, and her pretty eyes lighted up.</p> + +<p>"Maybe," was all she said.</p> + +<p>But an hour or two later, when her father had finished smoking his +Sunday afternoon pipe, he called her.</p> + +<p>"Ysenda," he said,—he was sitting in the porch, for the day was mild +for the time of year,—"Ysenda, I'm thinking about that young +fellow—Michael."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father?" she said questioningly.</p> + +<p>"You know that old Thomas is leaving us." Thomas was the farmer's head +man. "He's getting past work, and he's got some tidy savings put by. He +won't be badly off. I'm not sorry. I'd like some one younger and sharper +about the place, though I'd scarce have found it in my heart to dismiss +him. But he wants to go. I've been casting about for a new man. I wonder +how Michael would do."</p> + +<p>"Was it what you heard this afternoon that's made you think of him?" the +girl asked, straight-forwardly.</p> + +<p>The farmer seemed a little taken aback.</p> + +<p>"Well—not exactly. But you see," he replied, "if so be that old Peter +did leave him something, well then, Peter was a wise man, a very wise +man—it shows he thought highly of the young fellow, and if he was to +come to me instead of Thomas, I'd as lief as not that he had a something +of his own. It would give him a better position over the others, you +see."</p> + +<p>From her father's practical point of view, Ysenda did "see"; and when he +went on to propose that they should stroll round by Michael's cottage +for their evening walk, "just to have a look at things," she made no +objection.</p> + +<p>"We might say we heard of his kindness to the dame, and ask about her +and how she's getting on," added the farmer.</p> + +<p>So Michael, sitting ruminating by the fire, was not a little surprised +when, on opening the door in answer to a knock, he was confronted by the +two visitors.</p> + +<p>"We thought we'd look in to—to congratulate you on your—your kindness +to our old friend and her grandchildren," the farmer began, very +amiably. "We've heard all about it from them, you must know."</p> + +<p>Michael's sunburnt face had grown very red, first with the delight of +seeing Ysenda, and then by the startling word "congratulate." For he +knew that the secret confided to him and his cousins would be of no +value if it were made known to others, so that Peter had trusted to them +to keep it faithfully.</p> + +<p>Ysenda seemed to guess his alarm, and with a smile and a whisper she +reassured him, even before her father had finished speaking.</p> + +<p>"It is all right," she said. "I know you have won"; and later on, she +added, "It is what Peter hoped and wished for."</p> + +<p>So nothing was wanting to Michael's satisfaction. He begged his visitors +to honour him by staying to supper, and when the farmer saw the good +fare so quickly and neatly laid before them, his opinion of Michael, +needless to say, rose still higher, and before he took leave of the +young man he had hinted at the proposal he was thinking of.</p> + +<p>This was the beginning of a happy life for Mike. He became the farmer's +right hand, and before long his son-in-law. Nor in his prosperity did +Michael ever forget his old friends. Never a Sunday passed without his +cousins and his poorer neighbours—Martha and her grandchildren—being +his guests. Never, therefore, did the "good people" fail to respond to +his summons.</p> + +<p>And even before Ysenda became the hostess on these occasions, she felt +that she might reveal to him the secret of the condition which in his +generosity he had unconsciously fulfilled.</p> + +<p>"Peter told me what it was," she said. "The magic feast is only bestowed +on him who invites as his guests those poorer than himself. But had you +known this, the charm would have been lost. Your motive was pure +kindness—free from all selfishness, therefore you succeeded where +Hodge and even Giles, good-natured though he is, failed!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus4" id="illus4"></a> +<img src="images/illus4.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"Your motive was pure kindness—free from all +selfishness, therefore you succeeded."</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"All the same, sweetheart," said Michael, "I feel that I owe my happy +fortune to <i>you</i>, as well as to dear old Peter and to the 'good people' +themselves. May I always have a grateful heart and remember those whose +lives are less favoured than mine."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="The_Weather_Maiden" id="The_Weather_Maiden"></a>The Weather Maiden</h2> + + +<p>Once upon a time—it does not matter if it was a long ago "once," or not +a long ago one; it does not matter what country it was in, whether far +off or near at hand—it was just a "once upon a time," somewhere and +somewhen—a little girl sat crying quietly but very sadly, all by +herself in a queer room which I will describe. But first I must tell you +that she was not crying from temper, or from having been naughty and now +being sorry, no, she was just crying because she was lonely and unloved +and in a sense friendless. And it had not always been so with her. Some +years ago—to her they seemed many, for she was only twelve, but in +reality they were but few—she had had kind parents, father and mother +both, who loved their only child very dearly, though she was not a very +pretty or "taking" little girl. She was small for her age and more +thoughtful than clever or amusing. And now that the dear ones whom she +belonged to were gone, and her only home as an orphan, and a poor +orphan, was with cousins, who, though good worthy people, had adopted +her out of duty and did not understand the shy silent child, or care to +do so, it is not to be wondered at that she grew shyer and silenter and +often seemed what she was really far from being, stupid and slow and +even sullen.</p> + +<p>Her new home—though "new" it no longer was to her, for it was now +nearly four years since Farmer Mac, as we will call him, had brought her +back with him from the desolate house where she had been so happy and +cared for since her birth—this new home was a large rambling old +farm-house. A busy beehive of a place, cheerful enough to its owners and +their sons, who were strong and active and hard-working from morning to +night, but to Merran a sort of incessant worry and bustle, of loud +voices and hurrying steps and noisy laughter, or noisier scolding, not +really as cross or angry as it sounded, but startling to her sensitive +nerves and childish timidity. So she grew duller and slower and thinner +and whiter, till at last those about her began to say she was in a +"dwine," and "maybe all for the best if so it were, for—" and at this, +voices were lowered—"it's plain to see the child's 'not all there.'"</p> + +<p>And her aunt, as she had been told to call the farmer's wife, a strong +hearty woman, who had done and meant to do her best for the little +maiden, grew tired of worrying about her, and trying to feed her up and +turn her into the sort of girl a daughter of her own would have been. +Merran did her no credit, and the mixture of shame and pity Dame Mac +came to feel about her gradually grew into a kind of constant, +half-repressed irritation. She made her work, which of course was right, +the child would have pined and "dwined" still more had she been left +alone to do nothing but creep about and dream in corners, but the worst +of it was that what Merran did, or tried to do, seldom pleased her aunt. +As often as not, after telling her to sweep or dust, the dame would +snatch the cloths or brush out of her hand, crying that she'd rather do +it all herself than see the girl's feckless ways of going about the +work.</p> + +<p>This had happened the day that this story begins. Merran had had an even +worse scolding than usual, and though she set her face hard and said not +a word in self-defence, when she got upstairs to the hiding-place where +first we see her, she let her tears burst out and sobbed and wept to her +heart's content.</p> + +<p>There was a special reason for her aunt's vexation with her that +morning. Merran had had a soaking in the rain the day before, when she +had gone out without an umbrella and with the clean, freshly starched +and ironed frock on, which should have lasted her the whole week, as +yesterday had been Monday. Now it was not only limp and draggled but on +one side a mass of mud, for in her hurry to get home the child had +slipped in the lane, always a rather watery one from the overhanging +trees and want of sun, and fallen at full length, so of course there was +nothing for it but to have the unlucky garment returned to the +wash-house six days before it was due there, and as a punishment Merran +was now arrayed in an old stuff skirt, too short for her, which she +particularly disliked, and a kind of loose jacket or bed-gown once her +aunt's, in which, it must be allowed, she did look rather a figure of +fun, something like a very shabby Dutch doll.</p> + +<p>"And Dirk will see me like this," she said to herself, "after the long +time he's been away. He will think me so ugly and untidy, and he's the +only person in the world who cares for me at all," and at these +thoughts her sobs redoubled.</p> + +<p>Dirk was the youngest of the farmer's five sons, the youngest but by no +means the favourite or the spoilt one, as a youngest is generally +supposed to be. He was not as strong or fine a fellow as his brothers; +indeed as a baby he had been so puny and delicate that his mother was +half ashamed to let him be seen for fear of its being said or hinted +that he was a changeling. There was some reason for this, as the first +few months of his life had been spent in much wailing and crying, poor +little chap. And even when he got over this stage and grew into boyhood, +his position in the family was rather a Cinderella-like one. Yet to +those who took the trouble to notice and encourage him, he quickly +showed himself to be a sweet-tempered, cheerful and intelligent child. +So by degrees things had improved for him, and now when he was expected +home from a long sea-voyage on which he had been sent to strengthen him +after growing too fast, his relations were ready to welcome him back +with heartiness.</p> + +<p>He was four years older than Merran, so when she first came to the farm +he was only a boy of eleven or twelve, sorry for the orphan, and in his +awkward way very kind to her. So naturally she turned to him +gratefully. But now he had been absent so long that she felt shy at the +thought of meeting him again.</p> + +<p>"He'll be big and strong like the others now," she said to herself; +"he'll not think me worth speaking to, looking like a beggar-girl as I +do. Oh, oh, I wish I could die! I wish it wasn't wrong to wish I could +die! I wish I could fly away somewhere, quite, quite away. Everybody +dislikes me—even the doll-woman up there in the rain-house seems to be +laughing at me, 'cos I'm so ugly and stupid."</p> + +<p>What she called the "rain-house" was one of those old-fashioned toy +barometers, or weather-tellers, now so seldom seen. It had been +discarded long ago, as broken and out of order, years before Merran had +come to the farm. She had never seen it except up on a high shelf in the +garret, standing among other old things, broken or chipped or useless, +and yet which Dame Mac, if ever she remembered them, had not the time to +sort or look over. Possibly too, unsentimental as she was, there were +certain objects among the "rubbish" which she had not found it in her +heart to burn or throw away.</p> + +<p>This, the garret, was the queer room which I said I would describe. It +was large, as it covered a good part of the first story of the +farm-house, which was a long, rather low building, and only one end of +this second floor had been plastered and boarded and turned into +habitable rooms. And these, where some of the younger sons and +farm-servants slept, had a separate staircase; the garret was approached +by a ladder-like flight of steps leading to nowhere else. So Merran had +long ago appropriated it as a place of refuge for herself when her head +ached, or her cousins had been teasing her, or her aunt scolding. She +grew to love it dearly. There were queer corners where she could hide; +there were one or two small unglazed storm-windows, in whose eaves the +swallows built, and from which she had a wide view of the country, in +its own way a beautiful part of the world, for though flat and what some +call "tame," it was well wooded—the trees in summer and autumn, even in +early spring, when the first tender greens began to shimmer and sparkle, +were a sight to be seen, so lofty and spreading were they. And not very +far off, though too far to be perceived from the lower windows, was a +silvery glimmer which Merran knew was the sea.</p> + +<p>She knew by heart every inch of the place and everything it contained. +She made up stories to herself about the old pieces of furniture—quaint +chairs short of a leg or two, a tumble-down chest of drawers, with a +marble top, which must, in the far past, have stood in a handsome, +perhaps in a beautiful, room; a cracked and blackened mirror or two; a +pathetic old cradle on rockers, which seemed asking for a baby to nurse. +Merran talked to and pitied them all; sometimes even she sang in her +very thin tiny voice to the cradle, "just to make it think it's not +empty," she would say to herself as a sort of excuse.</p> + +<p>Among the things on the shelf, nothing interested her much except the +"rain-house." She had never been able to examine it, for it was too high +up for her to reach, and there was nothing in the shape of a ladder in +the garret. Now and then she had thought of climbing up by the help of +some of the chairs, but they were all too rickety to be of any use. So +she contented herself with fancies about the queer little cottage with +its two doors, out of one of which the woman could be seen peeping—the +man never appeared, and Merran used to picture to herself that perhaps +there was a pretty fairy garden behind the house, in which he was always +busy working, while his wife kept everything neat and clean inside and +cooked the dinner, pretending that the little woman only looked out now +and then just to wish her—Merran—good-morning.</p> + +<p>But to-day she was too unhappy to have cheerful fancies about anything +at all, and she even felt vexed with the doll, imagining that its face +was laughing at her as she sat there crying, and as she gazed up at it +the fancy increased till she began to feel quite angry.</p> + +<p>"You'd cry too, if you were me," she said at last. "You are up there +quite safe and snug—nobody to scold you, or order you about. <i>You're</i> +not forced to wear ugly dirty old clothes 'cos you got caught in the +rain—no, of course, you never come out in the rain. I wish I lived in a +country where it was always dry and clean, instead of muddy and wet."</p> + +<p>There was some excuse for this wish. For though it was not a hilly part +of the world—and one generally imagines that it is in mountainous +districts that the weather is the most uncertain—the country where the +farm-house, now Merran's home, stood, was extraordinarily trying in this +respect. It was very fertile, as it was well watered, but changeable +past description, quite enough to try the farmers' tempers, not to speak +of little girls'. Never, for two days together, could even the oldest +inhabitants, naturally supposed to be the most weather-wise, prophesy +with any security what was coming. Barometer after barometer proved all +but useless. I believe it was in a fit of irritation that Farmer Mac had +knocked over the old "rain-house," and broken it, because he imagined +"the pair who tell the weather" had misled him. They had not done so, as +you will hear, and it would have been better for him if he had not +treated them as he did. But of this Merran knew nothing.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she repeated angrily, for it seemed to her that the figure had +moved forward a little and was really looking down at her as if it were +alive, "yes," she said, "<i>you</i> wouldn't like it, I can tell you, so you +needn't stare at me so. If only I could get up to you, I'd tell you +things that would make even you, a silly wooden doll, sorry for me."</p> + +<p>To her amazement, a voice replied to her.</p> + +<p>"Close your eyes," it said, and even if Merran had felt inclined to +disobey, I doubt if she could have done so. "Hold out your +hands—upwards," it went on, and then the child became aware that +whoever it was that spoke was somewhere above her, and again she +obeyed, stretching up her hands as far as she could reach. Then for a +third time came a command. "Spring," said the voice, "spring, high, into +the air. Yes, that is right," and as she gave the leap upwards, instead +of at once dropping down again as one naturally would, she felt her +fingers grasped, gently but firmly, and in another moment her feet +touched ground again, and the same voice now said gently, "Good girl. +Now, Merran, you may look about you."</p> + +<p>You may be sure she lost no time in availing herself of the permission. +But—just at first, she did not feel sure that her eyes were not somehow +or other playing her a trick. What she saw, the place where she found +herself, seemed so strange; still more so the person who, still holding +her by the hands, was looking down at her, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" said Merran, drawing away a little, for she felt half +frightened.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know? Look at me well—you have often done so, though you +never saw me so plainly before."</p> + +<p>It was the same voice, and though sweet and gentle it had to be obeyed. +So Merran looked at her, and gradually she began to understand, though +vaguely.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I seem to know your face, and your dress, +and—and—but yet you can't be the figure in the rain-house. You are so +pretty, so very pretty, and even your dress—oh what lovely stuff it's +made of."</p> + +<p>And so it was. The "doll-woman," as Merran had called her, was attired +in a short, queerly spotted red skirt, with a white jacket—only painted +wood, of course, to mortal eyes—and a kind of kerchief on her head. Now +the skirt had changed into fine, rose-coloured silky stuff, beautifully +embroidered all over with tiny daisies; the hard stiff upper dress was +of snowy, delicate muslin, such as Merran had never before seen or +dreamt of; the head-gear a gauzy scarf of golden tissue; the little feet +were shod with slippers of the same lovely red as the skirt, gleaming +against the whitest and finest of stockings.</p> + +<p>"Oh," exclaimed Merran again, "how pretty, oh how <i>very</i> pretty you are; +your dress too! I can't believe you're the doll-woman. I didn't think +her at all pretty, and yet——" she felt too puzzled to explain, and no +wonder, for the face still smiling at her was so very charming. Blue +eyes like forget-me-nots; cheeks like delicate blush roses; lovely +bright brown hair, some ends of which came straying out of the graceful +head-dress, and above all such a sweet and kindly expression!</p> + +<p>"Yet," said the fairy lady, for that this she was the little girl began +to feel sure, "yet, Merran, your idea is right. I am the same, and this +place where you are standing is what you have called the 'rain-house.' +Look about you—this is only the entrance—and then I will take you +inside and you shall see my husband, who will welcome you as I do. We +have expected you for a long time, but till you spoke to me in your +trouble I had no power to bid you come."</p> + +<p>Then Merran turned and gazed around her, and strange as it had seemed at +first, she began to recognise the roughened walls, the branches wreathed +round the porch with its two open doorways, even the flooring on which +she stood, painted to look like tiles.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she exclaimed, "it <i>is</i> like the rain-house, as much as I could +see of it. But—" and then for the first time a new perplexity struck +her, "if it really is it," she asked, "how can I be in it? How can I be +littler even than you? Why I could have held you in my hand when I was +down in the garret, if I could have got you? Have you grown big, or +have I grown tiny?"</p> + +<p>The Sunshine fairy—we can call her by her name now—laughed, and oh how +pretty her laugh was!</p> + +<p>"My dear Merran," she said, "it doesn't matter. Perhaps, however, it is +less confusing for you to think you have grown tiny. But I needn't +puzzle you if you understand that to all intents and purposes you are in +fairyland—as much there as it is well for a mortal child to be. Your +old rain-house is one of its entrances. Come now, and you shall see +more."</p> + +<p>She opened a door in the back of the hut—or what seemed the back—and +led Merran through. The little girl gave a cry of pleasure. They were +standing in the prettiest room you could imagine. It was all brightness +and cosiness, the chairs and tables of white wood, the carpet like green +moss, the walls hung with soft pink silk, and above all the +"window-doors," as Merran called them to herself, opened on to—surely +the loveliest garden that ever was seen, "out of fairyland" I was going +to say, forgetting that it was, if not fairyland itself, just at the +entrance to it. It did not seem a very large garden, or rather one could +not quite tell how far it extended, for at the farther end it sloped +down rather suddenly and beyond, a great thicket of beautiful trees and +bushes gave a misty, vague appearance, through which Merran only caught +sight of gleams of sky and sunshine—almost, she fancied, of blue hills +far in the distance.</p> + +<p>"That must be the real fairyland," she thought. But she did not feel +much curiosity about it; the pretty room and lovely garden were too full +of delight. And as she gazed, another object attracted her. This was a +fountain in the centre of one of the velvety lawns. She had never seen a +fountain before, but she was a clever child in her own way, and she +remembered pictures which she had seen, of which the dancing silvery +drops reminded her.</p> + +<p>"Is that a—a waterfall?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The fairy lady shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly," she replied, "though for a little girl like you it is a +very good guess. No, it is the fountain by which we know about the rain +and showers. We send messages far and wide by its means. You could not +understand if I explained. But we work very hard. Fairy folk are not +idle, as some foolish mortals imagine. See—my husband is coming to +speak to you. He and I work together, though behind there in your world +people fancy we don't! Rain without sunshine, or sunshine without rain, +would make a sad state of things."</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," said a merry voice, and from behind the mist and dazzle +of the fountain Merran perceived a new-comer—a man with a nice brown +face, dressed something like a charming old china figure which her aunt +greatly treasured—brown velvet jacket and breeches, flowered waistcoat, +a scarlet cap on his short curls—altogether quite the right sort of +person to match the lovely Sunshine fairy.</p> + +<p>He doffed his cap as he came forward, Merran gazing at him in surprise. +She would much have liked to ask him how ever he managed to keep so +beautifully clean and smart if he was always working away at the water, +but she felt rather shy, and only gazed.</p> + +<p>"So you have come at last, little maiden," he said pleasantly. "We have +been waiting here a good while for you."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus5" id="illus5"></a> +<img src="images/illus5.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>"So you have come at last, little maiden."</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>Merran felt greatly astonished and puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Sunshine fairy, "our queen knows all about you. She +always cares for lonely or unhappy children more than for any others, +though they may not be aware of it. And she told us to stay here till +the time came for us to be of service to you, poor little Merran. Not +that it matters much to us where we live. Rain and I can do our work +wherever we are, and move our abode in less time than it would take you +to run downstairs."</p> + +<p>"I wish you would stay here always and let me come and live with you," +pleaded Merran. "Nobody cares for me down there," and she nodded towards +where she supposed the farm must be. "Couldn't you—couldn't your queen +turn me into a fairy for good? I shouldn't ever want to be a real little +girl again, and nobody would mind. They'd just think I'd got +lost—they'd never imagine I'd gone to fairyland."</p> + +<p>"Would nobody mind—would nobody miss you?" the Sunshine fairy asked +gently.</p> + +<p>Merran's eager face fell. She hesitated.</p> + +<p>"P'r'aps Dirk would have minded once, before he went away," she said +ruefully. "But not now—oh no—they say he's grown so fine and strong +like the others. He won't care for me any more, I'm sure. That's another +reason why I wish you'd let me stay with you and never go back to the +farm again. Aunt says I grow stupider and stupider, and uglier too, I +daresay she thinks, though she doesn't exactly say so. And just look at +me"—she held out her shabby old skirt as she spoke—"this horrid dress +is only fit for a beggar girl, and I'll have to wear it all the week, +though it wasn't my fault that I dirtied my nice clean one. The lane was +so slippery, and so muddy. It had been raining so hard."</p> + +<p>The Sunshine fairy smiled.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "but you don't know what it would be like in your +country if it didn't rain a good deal."</p> + +<p>"I know it has to, of course," said Merran, "but if only we knew better, +everything would be easier. Uncle Mac often says there never was such +changeable weather as we have. I don't believe he'd be so cross and +surly if he wasn't always worrying about what the sky's like and what +it's going to do. And if <i>I</i> knew, I'd take care not to go out without +an umbrella, if it was going to be wet, nor along that muddy lane."</p> + +<p>The Rain fairy had gone back to the fountain while Merran was speaking, +and by this time she had quite lost all feelings of shyness with the +pretty Sunshine lady. Just then the sound of the rushing water stopped +suddenly. The fairy looked up and called out. The words seemed strange, +and Merran could not understand them, nor the reply which came back. But +Sunshine turned to her.</p> + +<p>"You will find bright weather on your return," she said, "and I promise +you a pleasant surprise as well. So do not be low-spirited, little +Merran. You have been watched over in ways you know not of, and you may +cheer up from now."</p> + +<p>But it was difficult for the child to believe this all at once.</p> + +<p>"Oh mayn't I stay with you, dear kind fairy?" she pleaded again. "It +wouldn't matter to me how the time passed. I shouldn't be like little +Bridget, who found her friends all gone, for you see I should never want +to go back at all. Oh do let me stay. Can't you turn me into a fairy +altogether?" she repeated. "I'd be your servant or anything you like."</p> + +<p>Still Sunshine shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, my little maiden," she replied. "What you ask is impossible. You +can never become one of us—a human child you are, a woman you must +before long become. But a happy woman you may be, and to help you to be +happy is the task that has been appointed to us. Long ago, but for love +and pity for you, the old rain-house, as you call it, would have fallen +to pieces, and we should have deserted the farm altogether, as indeed +its master deserved after his treatment of us. He has been punished for +it, however, and now by your means great and unusual good fortune may be +before him and his. And this I will now explain to you, but on one +condition."</p> + +<p>Merran felt a little frightened.</p> + +<p>"Is it something very difficult that I have to do?" she asked timidly.</p> + +<p>The Sunshine lady shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," she replied. "It is simply to keep carefully two gifts +which we have prepared for you, and to use them as I will describe. +But—there is the condition."</p> + +<p>"What is it?" said Merran eagerly. "I'm sure you wouldn't want me to do +anything wrong, or to promise anything I can't be sure of being able +for, so I do promise now, this very minute, even before you tell me."</p> + +<p>She was rewarded by a smile.</p> + +<p>"You do right to trust me," said the fairy. "All I bind you to is +this—to tell no one of the magic gifts, to keep your possession of them +a complete secret, until——"</p> + +<p>"Till when?" Merran interrupted.</p> + +<p>"Till you are grown up, and only then if you marry and love your husband +dearly. For I know that without complete confidence, little rifts are +sadly apt to come between even those who love each other most truly."</p> + +<p>"I don't think I'll ever marry," said the poor little maiden. "I'm too +ugly and stupid. But still, if ever I did, I know I'd love my husband, +'cos you see it would be so kind of him to love <i>me</i>. And then it would +be nice to tell him the secret, if it would do him good too. Oh I do +wonder what it is you're going to give me!"</p> + +<p>Fairy Sunshine slipped her hand into the front of her bodice and drew +out something. At the same moment the Rain brownie, or gnome—no, he was +too handsome to be a gnome—or whatever you like to call him, came +forward again, and he too was holding something. Together the pair +presented their gifts, and Merran gave a little cry of delight as she +saw what they were. One was a tiny umbrella, a real umbrella, not a sham +toy one, or a gold or silver "charm," such as ladies hang by their +watch-chains, no, a real, exquisitely made and finished umbrella of +green silk and with a beautifully carved ivory handle.</p> + +<p>"I have made it myself," said the Rain man. "It will never wear out and +never lose its power, unless you forget your promise."</p> + +<p>"And for my gift I say the same," echoed Fairy Sunshine. Hers was even +prettier, for it was a parasol, smaller of course than the umbrella, but +just as beautifully perfect—of rose-coloured gauze, lined with white, +and the handle was in the form of a daisy, of silver and enamel.</p> + +<p>Merran was silent with pleasure and admiration.</p> + +<p>"Oh thank you, thank you," she was beginning, but the fairy stopped her. +"Wait a moment," she said, "wait till you learn the real value of these +two things. They are not merely pretty toys. It would be foolish to give +them to you if they were nothing better than that. But they are much +better. We have endowed them with fairy power. See here—if you want to +know what the weather is going to be, you must test them—by yourself, +of course, and when no one can see you, for magic gifts belong to their +owner alone. You must test by trying to open them. If the umbrella +refuses to spread itself, you will know that it is not going to rain. If +so, turn to the parasol. If it opens quite widely you may count on +plenty of sunshine; if only partly, then though the day will be dry, it +will not be very bright. But you must be gentle; it would be useless to +try to force either of them, for then they would break and you would +have lost them for ever."</p> + +<p>Merran's eyes were gleaming with delight.</p> + +<p>"I will be very gentle, I promise you. Oh it will be splendid always to +know about the weather, and uncle and all of them will never again think +me stupid or useless if they find I can foretell it. It will make them +much nicer to me, won't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied her friend. "That is the reason of our giving you this +secret power. But I must tell you a little more. You must not only be +gentle in touch, you must have gentle feelings in your heart, otherwise +you will fail. Neither umbrella nor parasol will open if you apply to +them with any unkind feeling or wish. For instance, if the farmer or his +sons have been sharp or rough to you and you wish it <i>would</i> rain just +to vex them, it would be no good at all for you to try to open +either—and if your aunt has been cross to you some very hot day——"</p> + +<p>"She often is when it is very hot," interrupted Merran. "More than when +it's cold. She gets headaches in summer."</p> + +<p>"Just so—then if you take hold of the parasol with a secret hope that +the sun is going to blaze away all day, without any cooling summer rain, +so that the dame will be punished for scolding you—no—it would be no +good at all! Inside your heart must be the <i>hope</i> that the wishes of +others shall be fulfilled, whether it come to pass or not; otherwise all +the magic will be gone for the time," and at this Merran looked grave, +very grave, for she had known what it was to long for power to annoy +others. But the fairy's next words cheered her. "I don't think there is +much fear of your having those unkind feelings," she said. "I know that +you are going to be a much happier little girl than ever before, and +remember to begin with, I have promised you a pleasant surprise when you +go home to-day."</p> + +<p>"I wonder what it will be," thought Merran, and she felt so anxious to +know, that it took away part of her reluctance to leave the charming +"rain-house," as just then the Sunshine fairy, taking her hand, added, +"I will show you now how to find your way back."</p> + +<p>They were turning to enter the house again when a sudden thought struck +Merran, who was carrying her new treasures with the greatest care.</p> + +<p>"Where shall I hide them?" she asked anxiously. "I <i>am</i> so afraid of any +one finding them, or taking them, and there's nowhere in the little room +where I sleep that I can lock up. Aunt comes in any time and looks all +about, to see that I keep things tidy."</p> + +<p>"Quite right of her," said the fairy. "I can help you to keep your +treasures in perfect safety, much more so than if you locked them up in +the strongest box that ever was made. Hold them out—one in each hand."</p> + +<p>Merran did so—the fairy touched them both, first the umbrella, then the +parasol, murmuring some word or words that the child could not hear.</p> + +<p>"Now," she said, "I have made them become invisible to all eyes but your +own, or those of the one to whom you may some day confide your secret, +as you have permission to do. See—just to prove it to you, I will for a +moment make them invisible even to yourself. Shut your eyes."</p> + +<p>Merran did so.</p> + +<p>"Open," said the Sunshine lady.</p> + +<p>Merran obeyed, but gave a cry of dismay.</p> + +<p>"They've gone, they've gone," she exclaimed, "and yet I didn't feel you +touching them."</p> + +<p>The fairy laughed.</p> + +<p>"Wink your eyes," she said. "Now look again," and there sure enough were +the magic gifts safe and sound.</p> + +<p>Merran laughed too.</p> + +<p>"So you don't need to be afraid of any one stealing them," said her +friend.</p> + +<p>"N-no," said the child. "But still—where had I best keep them? For you +see in my own room they might get knocked or brushed away, even without +being seen?"</p> + +<p>"How about the garret?" asked the fairy. "No one ever interferes with +you there—they are used to your playing there by yourself, aren't +they?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," Merran replied. "Only sometimes aunt goes up to look over +things, or dust a little. Why the other day she said she was going to +throw away the rain-house, as it was no use. I was glad she didn't, for +I have always liked seeing it. And fancy! if she had, I should never +have come up here and seen this lovely place and you, dear Sunshine +fairy, or the Rain fairy, or got your magic gifts! How dreadful to think +of!" But her friend only smiled.</p> + +<p>"She could not have done it," she said. "She had no power to touch it +while we were still here, while it was still one of the secret entrances +to fairyland. But as to a hiding-place for your charms," she went on. +"Have you ever peeped up at the eaves above the little storm-window +where you are so fond of sitting?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, often," said Merran. "There is an old swallows' nest there, but," +and she shook her head sadly, "they have quite deserted it for the last +two years. I used to love to watch them and to hear their twittering."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless the old nest will serve your purpose perfectly," said the +fairy lady. "Hide your treasures in it; you can easily reach up without +any danger of falling, as there is a good stretch of flat roof outside. +And then, if by any chance you were seen there, it would only be +supposed that you were looking out of the window at the view—trying to +catch the peep of the sea, as you often do."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," replied Merran, greatly pleased. "What a good idea, and how +clever of you to think of it! How do you know so much about me and the +garret and everything, dear Sunshine fairy? I suppose you really could +see me when you were the little toy woman in the rain-house? But it +won't be easy to believe she's you! You are <i>so</i> pretty compared with +her. Mayn't I come up here again and see you as you really are?"</p> + +<p>The fairy shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Our task here is accomplished," she said. "You will not need to puzzle +about the toy woman, and how she and I can be the same and yet not the +same. And this way into fairyland will now be closed. But when the +sunshine peeps in at your window and lights up your fair hair and puts +some colour into your cheeks, you may believe, my little maiden, that I +am kissing you. Or when some drops of rain make you start by their cool +touch, you may say to yourself that the Rain fairy is sending you his +greeting. Both of us, first one and then the other, working together. +That is how it is and should be. And now," she went on, "we will see you +safe home again," and glancing up, Merran saw that beside the lovely +lady stood the picturesque figure of the Rain fairy, with his dark but +kindly face. "Together," for once, "the pair that tell the weather."</p> + +<p>They turned and entered the pretty room, passing through it, however, +till at the other side, where a door led into the familiar "rain-house," +or hut, they stood still, beckoning to Merran, who had followed them in +silence, feeling excited and happy, and yet a little sad. Then each took +one of her hands—her gifts were safely nestling inside her bodice—and +whispering softly, in a sort of musical murmur, which made her close her +eyes half sleepily:</p> + +<p>"Farewell, little Merran, farewell. In sunshine or in rainy weather, +little maiden, fare thee well."</p> + +<p>And before she had time to look round or wonder what was going to happen +to her, she felt herself gently pushed over the edge of the rain-house, +like a fledgling which the parent birds are training to fly, and though +she had no wings, fly or flutter she did, down, down, till she found +herself standing safely on the floor of the old garret, just in front of +the storm-window, in her favourite nook.</p> + +<p>She rubbed her eyes. Was it all a dream?</p> + +<p>She might almost have thought so, but—feeling in her bodice for her +handkerchief, her fingers touched something, and she drew out the fairy +gifts. Yes—there they were all right, and evidently changed in size +like her own small self, for they lay in her hands in the same way as +above in the fairy house, "and up there," said Merran, "I must have been +much, much littler than I am now, for I could go in and out quite +easily."</p> + +<p>The thought made her glance at the high shelf where ever since she could +remember had stood the toy hut, with the woman's figure just peeping +out. But what she now saw made her start.</p> + +<p>The rain-house had fallen—its walls and roof were in pieces, as if a +fairy earthquake had shattered them! Merran felt half inclined to cry, +but before she had decided if she should do so or not she caught sight +of a tiny figure peering at her from behind the rubbish. It was the toy +woman, just as she had always been, dress and all, but as Merran gazed, +the stiff wooden doll seemed to melt away, giving place to the lovely +Sunshine fairy, who smiled and waved her hand as if in farewell, and the +little girl, feeling that this was indeed her last sight of the so long +unknown friends, who had watched over and cared for her, allowed some +tears to trickle down her face unchecked, while she waved and kissed her +hand in return till the pretty vision disappeared and nothing was left +to tell her that her visit had not been all a dream, except the broken +bits of painted wood and cardboard which she had called the rain-house!</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus6" id="illus6"></a> +<img src="images/illus6.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>She caught sight of a tiny figure peering at her from +behind the rubbish.</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>No—I am wrong—there were her magic gifts! She looked at them with +delight; they seemed even more dainty and charming than when she had +first been given them, and then, remembering the Sunshine fairy's +instructions, she climbed up on her stool till she reached the top of +the small window and could touch the old nest, still there, and still +quite whole. It was a splendid hiding-place. Without any difficulty +Merran gently pushed the umbrella and parasol in, through the moss, till +she felt they were quite secure, just leaving the handles out enough for +her readily to catch hold of them whenever she needed to do so.</p> + +<p>Then, with a sigh of satisfaction, she sat down again in her usual +corner and thought over her wonderful adventures quietly for some +minutes. Suddenly the remembrance struck her of a hint the fairy lady +had given her, about a pleasant surprise in store for her on her return, +and full of curiosity as to what it could be Merran jumped up and made +her way across the garret and down the narrow staircase to the floor +below.</p> + +<p>"It can't be about Dirk's coming," she said to herself, "for I knew that +already. And—that wouldn't be a pleasant thing, for I shall be ashamed +for him to see me in this horrid old dress," and she glanced at herself +disconsolately.</p> + +<p>But just then she heard a voice calling her, a well-known voice, her +aunt's.</p> + +<p>"Merran, Merran," it said, "where are you, child? Come quick. I want +you."</p> + +<p>And something in the tone made the child feel that she was not going to +be scolded. It sounded much kinder than usual.</p> + +<p>"Aunt must be in a good humour," she thought, and indeed so it was. +Nothing makes people feel better tempered and pleased with themselves +than the consciousness of having done a kindly action.</p> + +<p>"I'm coming, auntie," Merran answered brightly, though in her heart she +was not without misgiving. "I hope it isn't that Dirk has arrived +already," she thought, with again the mortifying remembrance of her ugly +dress.</p> + +<p>The dame was standing at the foot of the staircase holding up something +for the little girl to see. It was the unfortunate frock, already washed +and ironed and looking quite pretty, for it really was a nice garment, +white with pink sprigs and flowers running over it, and a neat frill at +the neck. It was Merran's favourite frock—for everyday wear, of course, +that is to say. Her Sunday one was a cornflower blue merino, and she was +very proud of it, especially as it and indeed most of her clothes had +been made out of those left by her own young mother, so that on the +whole it was not often that the orphan child looked like a small +Cinderella.</p> + +<p>"Well, what do you say to this?" said her aunt with great pride, waving +the frock about to show it off the better.</p> + +<p>"Auntie!" cried Merran, who for a moment had been struck dumb with +delight and astonishment. "Have you really washed it and ironed it and +all, already? Oh <i>how</i> good of you! Now I shan't be ashamed for Dirk to +see me. Oh, auntie, I don't know how to thank you."</p> + +<p>"Mind you don't get it dirtied again, then," said the dame, "and get +yourself tidied as quick as you can, for there's no saying how soon the +boy may be here. It was pretty tiresome, you know, for you to go and +tumble into the mud to-day of all days. But I didn't want Dirk, who's +always been so good to you, to find you looking such a little drab."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," said Merran. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be very +careful. It's getting to be quite a fine day now; the sun's come out, +and it's not going to rain again," she added confidently. For I should +have mentioned that before hiding away her new treasures she had tried +in vain to open the fairy umbrella, whereas the parasol spread itself +out like a flower with but the gentlest touch.</p> + +<p>"I hope not," said her aunt, "but there's no saying, and the master's in +a sad fix about the hay—when to start it. Never was such a place as +this for not knowing what the weather's to be. And I would like it to +look bright for Dirk when he first sees his home again, after the +beautiful countries he's been in, where the sun's always shining, so +they say. Though how things can grow without rain passes me!"</p> + +<p>"It says in my lesson-books at school that there's places where it rains +straight on for a good bit and then it's fine and hot for a good bit," +said Merran.</p> + +<p>"Maybe that's how it is," said her aunt. "Well, Dirk'll tell us all +about it and the other things he's seen. Now run off, child, and change +your frock."</p> + +<p>Away flew Merran, her spirits higher than for many a long day, for it +was not often that the dame talked to her so pleasantly, and as she ran +off she repeated her prophecy. "You'll see, auntie," she said. "It's not +going to rain at all to-day. It'll be lovely weather."</p> + +<p>And so it proved. The few clouds that had still looked somewhat +threatening, gradually dispersed; when the farmer came in he too seemed +very cheery.</p> + +<p>"If this weather holds on for a while, we'll do famously," he said. "A +good thing for Dirk to be back. We'll be none the worse for another pair +of strong arms, such as I hope his are by now," and almost as he spoke, +there was the sound of wheels approaching the farm-house,—for one of +the elder brothers had driven in the market-cart to meet Dirk at the +village where the coach was to drop him,—and in another minute in came +the traveller himself, eager to greet and be greeted.</p> + +<p>And a hearty welcome awaited him.</p> + +<p>He had grown and improved in every way. In fact he was no longer the +ugly duckling of the family, but bid fair in a year or two to rival his +stalwart brothers. So, naturally, of course, his parents were delighted.</p> + +<p>"Your uncle has done well by you, and that's a fact," said the farmer, +giving the boy a hearty slap on the shoulders. "All the same, I hope +he's not given you a liking for his way of life."</p> + +<p>For the uncle with whom Dirk had been seeing the world for the last year +or two, for the benefit of his health, was a sea-faring man—the +captain and owner of a small trading vessel.</p> + +<p>Dirk laughed, but shook his head.</p> + +<p>"No fear of that," he replied. "I like the sea well enough, but I don't +want to be a sailor. No, father, I'm a farmer, at least going to be one +I hope."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said his father. "And there's no life to compare +with the life of the fields, to my mind. There's just one thing to +complain of, especially in these parts, and that is the uncertain +weather. No telling any day what it may change to—and none of the +glasses as I've ever come across is much good, if any. And this year's +been one of the changeablest I remember. I wonder why it's so, for we've +no hills close about. Maybe it's through being near the sea. I've half a +mind to send for a strand of seaweed and hang it in the porch, and see +what that'll tell."</p> + +<p>"Not much good—it changes when the weather does, but not far ahead," +said Dirk. Then a sudden idea struck him. "Mother," he went on, "long +ago there used to be an old-fashioned kind of weather-teller, up in the +garret, do you remember? And not long ago, in Holland, where uncle had +to take a cargo, I came across one just like it, and the goodwife of +the house told me it never failed them. Suppose we get out our one?"</p> + +<p>The dame shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Strange you should speak of it, Dirk," she replied. "It's many a day +since I've given it a thought, till this very afternoon—when—" and +here she gave a little smile half of apology for her own childishness, +"I went up to the garret to look out of the end window, which has such a +good view of the road, to see if the cart and you boys were in sight. +And glancing up at the shelf, I missed something I was used to see +there. It was the old toy hut with the man and the woman. It's all in +pieces—just a crumbled heap, and no man nor woman to be seen. Maybe the +cat's knocked it down."</p> + +<p>"Then it's no good," said Dirk, "for I don't think they make them +now—not in England, anyway.—But, mother," he continued, "I've not seen +little Merran yet. Where is she, and is she all right?"</p> + +<p>The dame started.</p> + +<p>"To be sure. I was forgetting about her," she said, "and she was here +not five minutes ago. I told her to stay—not that she needed telling +when it was to see you again, Dirk. Merran, child," she called, raising +her voice, whereupon the little girl came forward shyly from the deep +recess of the old-fashioned window where she had been partly hidden.</p> + +<p>"I did stay, auntie," she said. "I was only waiting for you and uncle to +see Dirk first," and as she spoke, she held out her hand to the +new-comer. He took it, but also stooped down to kiss her. "You've grown +a bit, quite a tidy bit, little Merran," he said, "and you're looking +well too—more colour in her cheeks, and so fresh and smart. Is that a +new frock she's on, eh, mother?"</p> + +<p>His praise went far to reward the dame for the trouble she had given +herself. She smiled, and catching Merran's eye, the smile was returned.</p> + +<p>"She's growing a big girl now, you see," said the aunt. "Old enough to +be always tidy, and beginning to be handy too, we'll hope."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the farmer, turning from the window where he had been +standing looking out. "You can be useful in the hay-field now, child. If +I did but know what the weather's like to be to-morrow, so as to begin!"</p> + +<p>"Uncle," exclaimed Merran eagerly. "It's going to be fine, very fine all +to-day, and I'm almost sure all to-morrow, and I think for a lot of +days."</p> + +<p>Her uncle glanced at her and gave a little laugh.</p> + +<p>"I hope you're right, child," he said. "But how should you know? You +can't be a weather prophet at your age!"</p> + +<p>"I can't tell you how I know," began Merran, reddening a little, "but I +feel——" and just then Dirk broke in, and what he said was very lucky, +as, both then and afterwards, it served the good purpose of saving her +from cross-questioning about her curious power.</p> + +<p>"Don't be too sure of that, father," he said. "There's queer things we +can't explain, but true for all that. I've seen a good many of them at +sea, and in the far-off places I've been at. There was one old sailor +who always dreamt before we put in at any port who'd find letters and +who wouldn't, and he never was wrong. And away in the far East, as for +prophets!—my! I could tell you stories as'd seem like magic. Over here +we're thicker-headed, and maybe it's just as well. But for <i>nature</i> +things, there needn't be much doubt but what some are far cuter than +others, and maybe Merran's one who has the weather gift."</p> + +<p>The little girl glanced at him gratefully, though she did not speak. In +her heart she was saying to herself, "I shouldn't wonder if the dear +Sunshine fairy hasn't put it into his head to say these things."</p> + +<p>As for the farmer and his wife, they were both much impressed, and when +an hour or two later the sun set in a glow of crimson and rose, the +child's pleasant augury seemed still more trustworthy.</p> + +<p>And the next morning proved its correctness.</p> + +<p>Little did any one suspect that long before the rest of the household +had begun to think of awaking, in the early summer dawn, Merran had +crept up to her garret, and there, half trembling with excitement, +though much more of hope than fear, had drawn out her magic gifts to +test them afresh. Nor was she disappointed. The parasol flew open in her +hands, almost before she touched it; the umbrella resisted every effort, +though of course she avoided any rough force. It might have been glued +or nailed together!</p> + +<p>"Fine!" exclaimed Merran joyfully. "Of course it's going to be fine all +day—as bright and sunshiny as any one could wish. And after to-day too, +and for some time to come I am almost certain. There's something in the +feeling of the dear things that I can't describe—I'm getting to +understand them. The parasol seems to jump at me in a sort of assuring +way that must mean even more than just for to-day, and the umbrella—you +<i>are</i> a determined fellow, Mr. Umbrella!"</p> + +<p>She laughed merrily in her delight and satisfaction, and the brightness +in her face when she went downstairs to breakfast made the others smile +at her.</p> + +<p>Happily for us all, good spirits are quite as infectious as low ones, if +not indeed more so.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad I washed her frock for her yesterday," thought the dame, +taking credit to herself for the girl's pleasant looks. "Children are +easy up and easy down. Maybe I've been a bit too sharp with her now and +then."</p> + +<p>And Dirk thought to himself that poor little Merran had certainly +greatly improved, and even the other brothers refrained, half +unconsciously, from teasing or jeering at her, as they had too often +done.</p> + +<p>The farmer came in after they were all seated at table. He had been +having a good look at the sky, and his eyes fell on the small +prophetess, with approval.</p> + +<p>"You've been right, Merran," he said. "It does look now as if we were in +for a spell of real summer weather. And who'd have thought it this time +yesterday. If only it lasts till we get the hay in."</p> + +<p>"It will, uncle, it will. You'll see," said she. "Just you trust me a +bit. I'll know, I'm sure, when it's going to change."</p> + +<p>And strange to say, no one laughed at her or her predictions. On the +contrary, all of the family seemed impressed. Dirk's remarks the evening +before were not forgotten.</p> + +<p>And for some time to come Merran had no reason for misgiving. Morning +after morning the lovely fairy parasol flew open at her tiniest touch; +morning after morning the umbrella refused to yield in even the faintest +degree. So the Seaview Farm hay was mown, and dried, and stacked under +the most favourable circumstances, and more than one of the neighbouring +yeomen wished that they had been as quick about it as Mac and his sons, +though at the first start most of the wiseacres had told them they would +find it had been better to put off a while.</p> + +<p>And once it was all safe, there came a change. One warm bright morning, +Merran looked up at the sky silently and then turned to her uncle.</p> + +<p>"It's going to rain," she said. "Before night it'll be raining heavily."</p> + +<p>The farmer glanced in his turn at the blue, almost cloudless heavens.</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," he said. "You're out for once, child. No sign +whatever of rain. It's market-day, and I'm off. I've got a good bit of +business to see to, to-day, at the town. No, no, the weather's all +right. You'll see. I may be a trifle late, dame. Don't you be uneasy."</p> + +<p>"You'll take your overcoat, anyway, father," said his wife, who was not +so unbelieving in Merran's foresight as her husband.</p> + +<p>He replied by a hearty laugh.</p> + +<p>"Overcoat," he repeated. "Bless me, what are you thinking of? Overcoat +in weather like this! Why, it's as settled as can be—warm and fine, +like it's been for the last week or two. Couldn't be more settled."</p> + +<p>"That's a new word to use for these parts," said Dirk quietly. Merran +said nothing. The dame turned to her sons.</p> + +<p>"Which of you's going with father?" she said, adding in a whisper to +Dirk, who was next her at table, "You'll see to it if you go," she said, +"see that he takes his coat. Think of his rheumatism if he gets soaked."</p> + +<p>But Dirk shook his head, which was explained by the farmer's next +words.</p> + +<p>"None of 'em," he said, in reply to the goodwife's enquiry. "There's too +much to do at home just now for more than me to be spared. You've all +got your work cut out for you—eh, boys?"</p> + +<p>Then followed some field and crops talk, and no more was said about the +weather, and soon after Farmer Mac set off.</p> + +<p>Merran felt sorry and a little anxious. She knew that there would have +been no use in her saying anything more, for her uncle was one of the +most obstinate of men, but several times that day she made her way up to +the garret to test her strange barometers, half in hopes that the bad +weather would hold off till the farmer was safe home again. The first +time the result was much the same as it had been on her early morning +visit. The parasol opened slowly and refused to spread out far. The +umbrella responded to her touch as it had never before done—yet it did +not <i>spring</i> apart, but gradually allowed itself to stretch a certain +amount.</p> + +<p>"That means," said Merran, "that the rain's not coming just yet," for +she was growing curiously sensitive to the shades of forecast in the +magic toys. It was almost as if they spoke to her. But the second trial, +later in the day, told of nearer approach of the change, and an hour or +two after that, when Merran's anxiety and in a sense, too, her curiosity +lured her again to her garret window, the parasol was as if glued +together, while the umbrella flew open in her hands, like a bird eager +for flight.</p> + +<p>Merran felt at the same time satisfied and yet distressed.</p> + +<p>"It shows how true they are, and that I can correctly understand them," +she said to herself. "Still I do wish poor uncle could get home safely +before the rain begins, for evidently it will be very heavy indeed. I +wish he had listened to me this morning, but I didn't like to be <i>too</i> +certain, for if I had foretold it wrongly they'd have lost faith in me, +and I couldn't feel quite sure if it meant that the weather would change +so soon."</p> + +<p>But even as she reached up to restore her treasures to their +hiding-place in the deserted nest, something cold fell on her hand and +made her start. The rain had begun!</p> + +<p>She made her way downstairs feeling somewhat distressed, for she was by +nature affectionate and most ready to sympathise, and of late her aunt +had been so much kinder and gentler that the little maid's heart was +quite won over.</p> + +<p>She was standing by the window, gazing out at the fast increasing +downpour, when the dame came in. "Supper-time, Merran," she said +briskly, though there was no ill-temper in her tone. "We must be setting +the table."</p> + +<p>Merran turned with a little start.</p> + +<p>"I'm so sorry——" she was beginning, when her aunt interrupted her. +"Don't look so scared, child," she said, "I wasn't for scolding you."</p> + +<p>"And I wasn't forgetting about supper, auntie," replied the little girl. +"It's only that I was wishing poor uncle had got safe back before the +rain began——"</p> + +<p>"Why," exclaimed the dame, interrupting a second time, as she hurried to +the window, "you don't mean to say it's started already? I was so busy +in the laundry I hadn't noticed. Deary, deary," she went on, "but it is +coming down! And the master without his coat—he'll be soaked through +and through. I wish he'd listened to you, child, that I do, though I was +hoping it'd hold off till night."</p> + +<p>"I wish so too, auntie," said Merran. "I'd rather have been in the wrong +than that poor uncle should suffer through me being in the right."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure you would," said the dame heartily. Then she stood silent for +a moment or two, gazing in distress at the rain, which by this time was +indeed a case of "cats and dogs," really waterspouts. The anxious wife +sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>"He's in for it and no mistake," she said. "Men's that obstinate. Well, +well, all we can do is to have hot water ready and make him change his +things at once. I'll fetch some of his clothes down to air them—no, +I'll do better still, we'll light a small fire upstairs, for, summer +though it is, the evening's very chilly. And Merran, child, from now +I'll stick to you as my weather-glass. It's a wonderful gift you've got, +and we'll do well to believe in it."</p> + +<p>"I think so too, auntie," said Merran. "I really can foretell about it," +and her quiet tone impressed her hearers still more, for by this time +Dirk and one of his brothers had hurried in.</p> + +<p>Supper was an uncomfortable meal that evening. They were all anxious, +for they all remembered the father's weary weeks of rheumatic fever the +year before, and one or other of the "boys" kept running to the door to +look out, or to listen for the sound of wheels, not easy to distinguish +through the torrents of rain. And Merran was up and downstairs every few +minutes to see that the fire was all right, and the clothes safely +getting aired. And at last he came, poor man!</p> + +<p>He looked very white and shivery, and, to tell the truth, rather ashamed +of himself, when he came in. For besides the miserable state of +drenchedness he was in, he had to own that the discomfort was all thanks +to his obstinacy, and distrust of the little "weather prophet's" +warning. Few elderly men of any class, more especially a self-willed old +farmer like Mac, would like to allow that they had been outdone in +wisdom by a child, but on the whole Merran's uncle was more ready to +give in than might have been expected.</p> + +<p>"I'll listen to you next time, child," he said. "That I promise you. And +to you too, dame," turning to his wife, "for it wouldn't have been so +bad if I'd taken my thick coat. Where Merran gets her weather knowledge +from beats me," he went on, "but there it is, and that's a fact. I'm not +the only one that's been caught in the rain to-day, I can tell you. For +at market all the talk was of the fine weather lasting a good bit +longer."</p> + +<p>"I daresay it'll come back again," said Merran. "But I do wish the storm +had held off till you were safe home, poor uncle."</p> + +<p>"And so do I," said Dirk, who was busy helping the farmer to throw off +his streaming garments. "As it is, father," he added in a lower voice, +"you'll do well to keep that promise. I tell you I've seen queerish +things in my wanderings—things beyond us to explain, and there's no +doubt in my mind that little Merran has got this strange power, and +lucky for us that she has."</p> + +<p>The farmer looked much impressed, for since his travels Dirk had come to +be looked upon as an authority.</p> + +<p>"You don't think," said old Mac hesitatingly, "that there's anything +uncanny about it. I wouldn't like the maid to get called a witch, though +the days of ill-treating such are past and gone, thank Heaven."</p> + +<p>Dirk did not reply directly.</p> + +<p>"There's things we can't explain," he repeated. "There's good mysteries +and bad mysteries. But Merran's all right. I'd trust her to use her +extra sense for kindness, so she'll earn no ill-will by it."</p> + +<p>By this time the farmer, who was unusually meek, had been put to bed and +made to drink hot possets and all the rest of it, in hopes of warding +off another bad rheumatic attack. To some extent the treatment was +successful, but not entirely. The poor man had to keep his room for over +a fortnight, which was very trying, as harvest was by no means over. +Still, two weeks' illness is less than two months, and on the whole he +bore his troubles patiently, and one thing which made this attack of his +less wearisome both to himself and to his family than those that had +laid him up before was the great fancy he had taken to Merran—his +"weather maiden," as he had dubbed her. She proved to be an excellent +little nurse, and the farmer was never as content and patient as when +she was sitting by him, chatting cheerfully, as she was now able to do, +since she was no longer frightened of being scolded, or reading aloud +some of her favourite stories. For she was naturally far from stupid. +Every morning and evening the invalid was sure to ask her about the +weather, and, as we know, she was always ready with a forecast, which +never once proved mistaken. Every day, many times a day indeed, did she +say to herself how different her life now was from what it had been +before her wonderful visit to the old "rain-house."</p> + +<p>The farmer recovered; the harvest proved a good one, time passed and +winter came again, and with every season Merran's fame spread. All over +that corner of the country she came to be talked of as the "weather +maiden," her uncle's name for her, and many a farmer, many a peasant, +many a goodwife came to consult her and to hear her predictions. Her +fame spread farther indeed than among her own people. The squire's lady +never fixed the day for her summer parties or for the school children's +feast without looking in to ask little Merran's opinion. For by long +practice and delicate care in handling her magic gifts the girl came to +foretell for days beforehand which of them—umbrella or parasol, +"Rain-man" or "Sunshine fairy"—was to be in the ascendant.</p> + +<p>Time passed, weeks became months, months years, as is the appointed way +in this round old world of ours. From a plain, unnoticeable little girl +Merran grew into a tall sweet-faced maiden. She was not exactly pretty, +she was quiet and rather serious, but her dark eyes, though somewhat +dreamy in expression, were very charming, and the tones of her voice +were very musical. So she was not without admirers, you may be sure. +Many a man would have liked to marry her—some among them, no doubt, +influenced by the knowledge of her wonderful gift, for of course the +possession of it could not be kept a secret if she had wished, and she +was far from desiring this. On the contrary, her kind heart rejoiced +when she was able to use it for the advantage of her neighbours as well +as for the relations whom she now loved as if they were her very own, +and who on their side loved her.</p> + +<p>But she kept her secret, faithful to the promise she had given to the +lovely Sunshine fairy, though there were times when she longed to share +it with one in whom she could safely confide. And now and then at +intervals she had a strange feeling that Dirk suspected something, for +she sometimes caught his eyes fixed on her with a kind of veiled +enquiry, and once he said in a low voice, with a curious smile, "Little +Merran, you are not like the rest of us."</p> + +<p>"Are you, yourself, Dirk?" she replied. "There are things you know and +feel that the others don't—the voices in the wind, the burden of the +birds' songs, the secrets of the restless waves—oh, Dirk, if one lived +a thousand years, there would still be mysteries upon mysteries of +beautiful things to learn!"</p> + +<p>Then she grew shy again, for she was always quiet and timid and +wondered how she had found courage to say so much. But Dirk seemed +pleased.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, nodding his head gently. "Maybe we are a bit different +from most of those about us. You, anyway, Merran. I've seen strange +lands and beautiful places, but you—you give me the feeling that once +upon a time you must have had a glimpse of real fairyland."</p> + +<p>Merran grew red at this, but she made no reply.</p> + +<p>Only to herself she said, "I wish—I do wish I might tell him," and then +she grew still redder when the words of the Sunshine fairy returned to +her memory that only to <i>one</i> person might she ever reveal her secret.</p> + +<p>"And that one will never be my fate," thought the girl sadly. "Dirk will +never care for me in <i>that</i> way, and never could I care for any one but +him."</p> + +<p>Whereas on his side, Dirk said to himself that he must never hope to win +the sweet weather maiden for himself. "Why, half the young fellows in +the country-side, and old ones too, are ready to woo her if she'd let +them! They think she'd bring good luck to her husband, and so she would. +But it's not for that <i>I</i>'d care for her—it's that I love her for her +own self, luck or no luck."</p> + +<p>And one day—one happy day—had the Sunshine fairy whispered to him to +take courage, I wonder?—he determined to risk it, and told the maiden +his hopes and fears, and found how little reason for the latter there +had been, and the two young things, who had drawn to each other from +their first meeting, before long were married, carrying with them to a +home of their own the magic gifts, now, to Merran's delight, her +husband's as much as her own.</p> + +<p>Good fortune was theirs. Whatever Dirk undertook, whatever Merran +planned, prospered. And that it should be so, they deserved. For they +remained kindly and unselfish, ever ready to help others less happy than +themselves, grateful for their blessings, patient under trials, of +which, as life cannot be <i>always</i> sunshine, they had their share. They +lived, I was told, to a good old age. What became of the fairy +treasures, I cannot say. Whether they were handed down to their +children, or whether they were whisked back to fairyland, I know not, +not any more than I know what has become of all the toy "rain-houses" +which in our grand-parents' times were so often to be seen. The world is +growing too clever for the fairies, I fear, unless perhaps, unseen and +unsuspected, they are still behind the scenes in some of the marvels +and inventions all around us. Who can say?</p> + +<p>And by the bye, I have heard it whispered that in a certain +out-of-the-way corner of this dear old country there lives a family +whose sons and daughters have a curious gift of "weather wisdom." Maybe +they are the descendants of our Dirk and his Merran?</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="The_Enchanted_Trunks" id="The_Enchanted_Trunks"></a>The Enchanted Trunks</h2> + + +<p>Once upon a time, on a very hot summer's day, a girl stood waiting at +the door of a small old-fashioned inn, beside a little heap of luggage. +She was quite young, about sixteen, or seventeen at the most. Her face +was sweet in expression, and would have been pretty if she had not +looked so tired and anxious. She was quite alone and seemed shy and +timid, for now and then, when some of the folk belonging to the place, +passing in and out, wished her good-day, or made any friendly remark, +she started and grew crimson even though she replied politely. And when +after a time the landlady herself came to the door and asked the girl if +she would not step inside and wait in the parlour, she answered +hesitatingly that she thought she had better stay in the porch.</p> + +<p>"I'm so afraid of missing the coach, or losing my seat in it," she +said.</p> + +<p>"No fear of that, Miss," said the comfortable-looking dame. "Your place +is engaged, no doubt."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I suppose so," the stranger replied. "My name is +O'Beirne—Clodagh O'Beirne."</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said the landlady; "I remember the name. The +master—that's my husband—called out to the coachman last night that he +must secure a place for you to-day. You'd written for it, no doubt?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, the friends I stayed the night with—I only came over from Ireland +yesterday—did so. It was their gig that brought me here just now, to +catch the coach as it passed."</p> + +<p>The landlady's good-humour seemed to cheer the girl a little; she began +to look less frightened.</p> + +<p>"You've come a long way," the older woman remarked. "Right across the +sea, I take it?" The girl nodded, and looked as if she were going to +cry. The landlady's curiosity was aroused. "And it's the first time +you've left home, I daresay, and all by yourself too. It must feel +strange-like."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't alone till to-day. A friend came over with me," Clodagh +replied. "And I shan't be alone long. I'm to meet a—a lady, a cousin, +and we are to travel together."</p> + +<p>"Ah indeed, that'll be much pleasanter for you," said her companion.</p> + +<p>The young girl murmured something. But to herself she was saying that +she was by no means sure of it. And after a little silence she went on, +"I don't think I'd mind travelling alone—I don't mind anything very +much now that I haven't any home—except," and she glanced at the heap +of rather heterogeneous baggage, "except for all these things. I'm so +afraid of losing half of them, and yet Biddy and I packed as neatly as +ever we could. Biddy was grandmother's maid, and she stayed with me +after dear granny died, till it was settled for me to go to live with my +cousin and travel about with her."</p> + +<p>"It'll be fine and amusing for you," said the landlady.</p> + +<p>"I—I don't know," said Clodagh. "I'm not used to travelling, and I've +not seen my cousin for a good while, and she may think me stupid."</p> + +<p>"But she's a young lady, I suppose?" said her questioner.</p> + +<p>"Not very. She's—oh, she's seven or eight years older than I, and she +wants to travel all about till she finds a place to suit her. She's like +me, except that she's rich. She's got no parents and can do as she +likes."</p> + +<p>Then suddenly it seemed to strike the young stranger that she was +perhaps too communicative, and she grew rather pink. "I shouldn't +perhaps——" she began, but the kind-hearted woman understood and +interrupted. "It's me, Miss, that's in fault," she said. "I shouldn't +make free to ask so many questions. But it went to my heart to see you +standing there alone, so young and half-frightened like. I had a little +daughter once—she'd have been not so much older than you if she'd +lived——" She stopped for a moment, then she went on again: "Wouldn't +you like a cup of tea now, Miss?" she said. "It's a time o' day I often +has one, for we've no lie-abeds in our house, and it's a good while +since we'd breakfast, and if you've come some distance you'll have been +up betimes, I'd daresay."</p> + +<p>Clodagh's face brightened.</p> + +<p>"It's very kind of you," she said. "I would like it uncommonly. I +couldn't eat any breakfast, I was so afraid of being too late. +But—please tell me how much it will cost. I mustn't spend anything I +can help, you see. Once I'm with Cousin Paulina, she will pay things +like that for herself and me."</p> + +<p>"Don't trouble your pretty head about it," said the goodwife. "We're +well-to-do, my man and me, and neither chick nor kin to come after us, +more's the pity—and—you do make me think of what my little maid would +have been by now, Missy, if you'll pardon the liberty. Now just step +inside—to my own parlour—the kettle's on the hob—you'll feel quite a +different young lady once you've had a bit of breakfast, better late +than never."</p> + +<p>"And you promise me I won't miss the coach," said the girl, as she +followed the kind woman into the little sitting-room behind the bar.</p> + +<p>"No fear, no fear," replied her hostess, and as Clodagh sat down in the +comfortable chintz-covered old armchair—the landlady's own, which she +drew forward for the unexpected guest—the girl gave a sigh of content. +"It is nice and cool in here," she said, "and I <i>am</i> so tired already +and so thirsty. I wish I were going to stay here for a bit."</p> + +<p>"Indeed and I wish it too, Miss, and it's our best we'd do to make you +comfortable," said the dame, as she bustled about to make the tea, which +she fetched from the kitchen hard by, and to cut some tempting slices of +bread and butter. "But travelling's very pleasant, some folks say. +There's an old lady not far from here—that's to say, her own home +is—but she's for ever on the go. They do say as she's been all over the +world, and old as she is, she seldom rests."</p> + +<p>"Is she so very old?" asked Clodagh.</p> + +<p>"No one knows," was the mysterious reply. "My husband's mother, and +she's no chicken as you can fancy, remembers her as quite aged when she +was young. But she never seems to get no older. Some say she was +spirited away by the good folk when she was a baby and that she's got a +fairy's life—indeed there's some that will have it she's not really one +of us at all."</p> + +<p>Clodagh, by this time refreshed by the tea, sat up eagerly. "Oh," she +exclaimed, "I'm so glad you talk of the good folk. I thought it was only +at home—in Ireland, I mean, that people still believed in them."</p> + +<p>"Dear me, no," said her hostess, with a smile. "Maybe in the big towns +you never hear of them nowadays, and no wonder. They can't abide noise +and bustle and dirt. But in these parts, oh dear yes. I've heard tell of +them all <i>my</i> life, I know, and of their tricksy ways. They can be the +best of friends, but, my word! if they take offence they can worry one's +life out."</p> + +<p>Clodagh was listening with all her ears. Her eyes had grown brighter, +and some colour had come into her cheeks, with the mere mention of fairy +folk, so familiar to her since her infancy.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said with a little sigh, "what you say does make me wish still +more that I could stay here a few days and get rested, and you would +tell me stories, as my dear old nurse used to do."</p> + +<p>"That I would," said the landlady, "and indeed I wish you could stay to +hear them. Not that I've ever really come across the fairies—brownies +and pixies, they call them in some parts—myself, nor even set eyes on +one of them—unless indeed——" and here she stopped abruptly, lowering +her voice.</p> + +<p>"Unless what?" asked Clodagh. "Do tell me."</p> + +<p>"Just what I was saying a minute ago," the dame went on. "Unless that +strange old lady is one herself, as I'm more than half inclined to think +by what I've heard tell of her."</p> + +<p>"Then you've seen her?" questioned the girl eagerly.</p> + +<p>The landlady nodded.</p> + +<p>"Just seen her," she said. "Twice—no, I think three times, she's passed +in the coach, and I've just said a word to her at the door. Once she +asked for a glass of milk. 'Twas a very hot morning, like as it might +be to-day."</p> + +<p>"How I wish she might be in the coach this morning!" exclaimed the +traveller, her eyes sparkling. "It would be so interesting, and if she +knew I was Irish she might take a fancy to me, for the good people do +love the Irish!" and at the idea the girl laughed merrily for the first +time.</p> + +<p>"Yes," agreed the dame, "indeed she might, my pretty young lady. But +it's a long time since she's passed this way. One never knows where she +is, or how she'll travel. Now and then she'll set off in her own coach +and four, like any princess, and I've heard it whispered that she'll +sometimes disappear from her home, no one knows how."</p> + +<p>"Oh, a broomstick, maybe, or has she a pet gander?" laughed Clodagh.</p> + +<p>But the landlady looked a little frightened.</p> + +<p>"Hush, Missy, my dear," she whispered, "it doesn't do to——" Then she +suddenly started. "I'm afraid that's the coach," she exclaimed, "and +sorry I am to part with you, but if you're bound to go, we'd best be at +the door ready."</p> + +<p>Clodagh jumped up at once.</p> + +<p>"And thank you a thousand times," she said, "for all your kindness. +Yes, I must go. My cousin will be looking out for me. I've not seen her +for five years," she added nervously. "Wish me good luck, my kind +friend."</p> + +<p>"That I will," said the dame heartily.</p> + +<p>"You've cheered me greatly," said the girl, and in her impulsive Irish +way she held up her sweet young face for a kiss.</p> + +<p>The coach it was, sure enough. There was some trouble about getting +Clodagh's rather complicated belongings on to it, it was already so +piled up. But with difficulty all was at last disposed, outside and in, +and thanks to the landlady nothing was left behind.</p> + +<p>There were tears in the kind woman's eyes when at last it rumbled off, +her young guest of an hour waving good-bye out of the window.</p> + +<p>But it is Clodagh's adventures we have to follow. For a minute or two +the bustle of getting her bags and boxes settled prevented her realising +that there was already a passenger in the coach, and before looking +round she felt obliged to lean out once again in a last farewell to her +kind new friend. She was soon, however, recalled to the present.</p> + +<p>"Who is there?" said a voice—a rather petulant one—from the corner. +"Whatever is the matter? I was fast asleep till there was all this fuss! +Oh!—" with an exclamation, "can it be you, Clodagh O'Beirne? I had no +idea we were at Crossway Corner already?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," Clodagh replied, "it is I. I didn't know it was you, +Cousin Paulina. I wasn't sure, you see, if I would find you here, or if +you would only meet me at the next stage. Lady Roseley wasn't certain +from your letter which it would be."</p> + +<p>"Humph," murmured Mistress Paulina. "Well, after all I decided that to +avoid any mistake I'd get up for once by cock-crow, so as to start from +Stracey. I hate getting up early, and I was fast asleep as you saw. Did +Lady Roseley send some one with you, then, to see you off? You seemed to +be nodding good-byes."</p> + +<p>"No," said Clodagh. "That's to say only the old coachman who drove me +over and left me at the inn. I was all right. No, it was only the +landlady I was waving to. She was so kind, helping to carry out my +things," and she glanced round at the various encumbrances. The place +was certainly inconveniently crowded, and so Paulina, now wide-awake, +seemed to think, as she took it all in, and that with evident annoyance.</p> + +<p>"I must say, Clodagh," she remarked, "that you have a queer collection +of luggage. I hope you will get rid of some of these bags and baskets +before we start again. I don't deny that I travel with a fair amount +myself," and indeed the coach had seemed well packed inside and out, +before the younger girl's belongings had been added, "but a child like +you can't need such an amount. You'll have to learn to be a clever +traveller, my dear, if we're to get on together."</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry," said Clodagh apologetically. "You see, cousin, I never +have left home before, and I didn't know how to manage. I'll do my best, +and I hope I'll soon learn, for of course I shall pack for you as well +as for myself. That I quite understand."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," said Paulina. "I can't go about with you <i>and</i> a maid. And +as things have unfortunately turned out so sadly for you, it seemed to +me you'd be better off with me than going among strangers. And on my +side, I'm sick of maids with their airs and graces and vulgarities. I +prefer to have a companion of my own class."</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank you," Clodagh replied. "It was a very kind thought of +yours, and I shall soon learn to manage well, I hope. To begin with, I +think we might arrange all these things better," and she stood up and +pulled about and pushed and lifted, till the narrow space looked more +orderly, Paulina from her corner now and then directing and advising. +She was a handsome young woman, with a by no means disagreeable +expression. Indeed there was often a kindly light in her bright eyes, +and gentle curves about her mouth. But she was self-willed and +quick-tempered, "spoilt" in short, though generous and well-meaning, +entirely unused to contradiction and impatient of any obstacles in the +way of her wishes or fancies.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness," she ejaculated, as she settled herself down again in +her wraps, "thank goodness, we have no fellow-passengers. Now I mean to +go to sleep again, and so may you, child, if you like. We shall stop at +Oddingstowe for dinner and fresh horses, and by four o'clock we should +be at Felway, where the Marristons' carriage—and, it is to be hoped, a +cart for the luggage—is to meet us. They expect us to stay at the +Priory for two or three days. They know you will be with me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, thank you," replied Clodagh again, feeling mortally shy at the +prospect before her, yet not venturing to say so.</p> + +<p>Paulina composed herself to sleep once more, and before long, in spite +of the thoughts that crowded her mind—anxieties, hopes, and fears, as +she realised more clearly her new position as her kinswoman's +companion—Clodagh too, though a few minutes ago she would not have +believed it possible, Clodagh too dozed off.</p> + +<p>And she slept, as did Paulina, for some time. The stopping of the +vehicle, the cessation of the monotonous rumbling, aroused them both.</p> + +<p>Paulina sat up, rubbing her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Dear me," she exclaimed, "Oddingstowe already!"</p> + +<p>Clodagh looked out of the window.</p> + +<p>"No," she said hesitatingly. "I don't think it can be. There's no +village or houses; only a turnpike. Oh, yes," she went on, "I see what +it is. We're stopping to take up another passenger."</p> + +<p>"What sort of one?" her cousin demanded. "I hope to goodness it's not a +first-class one—an inside one—we are stuffed up enough already. +There's scarcely air to breathe."</p> + +<p>"N-no," Clodagh replied, continuing to look out. "I don't think it can +be. It's only a little old woman, quite poor, and she doesn't seem to +have any luggage. She's only carrying a hand-bag—just a sort of +reticule."</p> + +<p>"All right," Paulina responded, lazily settling herself again for +another nap. "All the same, I wish they wouldn't pull up in this +unnecessary way. I was so comfortably asleep. It's the only thing to do +in this tropical heat."</p> + +<p>Clodagh too was sitting down again, congratulating herself, more on +Paulina's account than her own, that their privacy was not to be +disturbed—when, alas, her unspoken relief proved premature. To her +astonishment, the guard approached the door, which he opened, and with a +"your pardon, ladies," to the two girls, held it civilly by the handle, +for the new-comer to enter.</p> + +<p>Clodagh instinctively drew back a little for her to pass. There were +four places—two and two—facing each other. Hitherto the younger girl +had been sitting beside her cousin—the opposite seat covered with their +possessions. But now she at once began to clear a space on it for +herself, for she saw at a glance that the stranger was old, and looked +fragile and delicate, and in spite of the extreme simplicity of her +attire—she wore only a clean but faded cotton of an old-fashioned +flowery pattern, half covered by a sort of market-woman's cloak, and +surmounted by a huge black straw bonnet—in spite of this there was a +certain dignity about her as in reply to Clodagh's silent attention she +murmured, "I thank you, young lady. But do not disturb yourself. I can +occupy the back seat."</p> + +<p>"I should think so indeed," exclaimed Paulina angrily. "Indeed, my good +woman, I am inclined to believe that your coming in here at all is some +mistake. This is for first-class passengers, and moreover our places +have been engaged for some days ahead.—What are you thinking of, you +silly child?" she went on sharply, turning to her cousin. "Why should +you give up your place to this person and her bundles? I won't have it. +Sit down beside me at once," for Clodagh with a crimson face was still +hesitating and moving about the bags and baggage nervously, though the +new-comer had already settled herself quietly with her back to the +horses.</p> + +<p>"Paulina," said the younger girl in a low voice, "<i>do</i> not be so +excited. She has no bundles, or anything, so it cannot really +inconvenience us. And she is old, and looks so fragile. It is only +right that I should offer her my seat."</p> + +<p>Paulina was about to reply in the same irritated tone, when she was +interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I thank you, my kind young lady," said the stranger in a clear voice, +which somehow enforced attention, "I thank you for your courtesy and +consideration. But I have no desire to take your place, I assure you. In +fact I prefer this side. I am an old traveller. Nor will my presence +incommode you for long. I shall leave the coach before we reach +Oddingstowe."</p> + +<p>Clodagh murmured a gentle "Thank you." She was grateful to the old woman +for not resenting her cousin's rudeness. And to Paulina she whispered, +"She <i>cannot</i> be a mere peasant. Her voice and words show it"; and to do +her justice, the elder girl looked a little ashamed of herself.</p> + +<p>"Don't tease me," she said. "It always upsets me to be wakened suddenly. +I'm going to sleep again," and so saying she leant back and closed her +eyes.</p> + +<p>And after a few minutes Clodagh followed her example, though she was no +longer sleepy. But something—a vague feeling of slight shyness—made +her do so, for she was conscious of her opposite neighbour's scrutiny. +Now and then from the depths of the quaint black bonnet she caught the +gleam of dark bright eyes, and the sensation caused her cheeks to grow +pink again.</p> + +<p>"Who and what can she be?" the girl said to herself. "She certainly +looks like a peasant, but her voice—her expressions—her dignity belie +it," and thus puzzling over the anomaly, Clodagh after all fell asleep.</p> + +<p>Now I must mention what may seem strange and most improbable. You will +remember the description given to the young traveller only an hour or +two before the coach stopped at the turnpike, of the old lady in the +neighbourhood, concerning whom such curious and even uncanny things were +said?</p> + +<p>Yes—well, this is the strange fact. Though Clodagh was at once +impressed in an unusual way by the personality of their +fellow-traveller, and perplexed to explain her inconsistencies, never +once during the day's journey did it occur to her to put "two and two +together"; to guess, as no doubt you, children, who are reading this +little old story, will already have done, that here in person was the +mysterious lady of the landlady's legend—the being who, if not actually +of fairy race herself, still had much in common with the "good people," +and doubtless dealings with them.</p> + +<p>But so it happened with Clodagh, and afterwards—not a long-delayed +afterwards either, as you will hear—she felt quite unable to explain +her own forgetfulness, or "stupidity" as she called it.</p> + +<p>In the meantime what occurred was this. She slept and Paulina slept on +uninterruptedly till the coach drew up at Oddingstowe. And when it did +so, and the clatter over the cobble-stones of the old inn's courtyard +aroused them, lo and behold, they were alone! The strange new-comer had +disappeared. The whole episode might have been a dream, only that +rarely, if ever, do any two people dream the same and at the same time.</p> + +<p>Paulina stared.</p> + +<p>"She's gone," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her cousin, feeling very much inclined to add, "You needn't +have been so rude to her."</p> + +<p>"I never felt or heard the coach stop to let her get out," added the +elder girl.</p> + +<p>"Nor did I," said Clodagh, "only——"</p> + +<p>"Only what?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing. I was dreaming, I suppose. But I have a misty recollection of +hearing some one say, almost in a whisper, 'Good-bye for the present, my +dear. We shall meet again.'"</p> + +<p>"I hope not," said Paulina, with a slight shudder. "Clodagh, you don't +think possibly she's a witch?"</p> + +<p>Clodagh's spirit of mischief inclined her to frighten her cousin a +little, but she refrained.</p> + +<p>"No, of course not," she replied. "She's a very polite and harmless old +woman, though, no doubt, there did seem something rather odd—mysterious +almost—about her. But if I may say it, Paulina, I think, in travelling +especially, it is best to be so—polite I mean—to everybody one is +thrown into contact with."</p> + +<p>Paulina muttered something which sounded like "rubbish" or "nonsense," +but aloud she only said snappishly, "You know nothing about travelling, +child. One has to keep up one's dignity."</p> + +<p>"There is a good way and a bad way of doing so," thought the younger +girl, though she said nothing more. She was relieved, however, to see +that her cousin was not really vexed with her, for she had spoken +impulsively, forgetting that it was scarcely her place to reprove +Paulina, all things considered.</p> + +<p>"I think she is really gentler and kinder than she sometimes appears," +Clodagh's reflections went on. "I fancy I shall be able to get on with +her if I am patient, and if I try my best. The only thing I am depressed +about is the luggage! I don't know <i>how</i> to get my own things into +smaller compass, and when it comes to all her belongings too, I don't +see my way at all. I am so afraid of losing any of her beautiful +clothes, and no doubt she has valuable jewellery too, and she is very +changeable in her plans. Lady Roseley warned me that sometimes I should +have to pack and unpack at very short notice indeed!" and she could not +help sighing a little. But Paulina did not observe it, for by this time, +as I said, they were at Oddingstowe, the small town where they were to +stop to change horses and to have some early dinner, of which the elder +girl declared that she felt much in need.</p> + +<p>An hour later they started again, to Paulina's satisfaction no other +inside passenger appearing. A short though heavy thunder shower had +somewhat cleared the air, the simple meal had refreshed them, and +Paulina seemed quite to have recovered her good-temper. She grew +talkative.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever heard of the Marristons?" she asked. "My friends at the +Priory, you know, where we are to spend a few days."</p> + +<p>Clodagh shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No," she replied. "You said in your last letter that you had a visit to +pay on your way to the place where you intend to drink the waters, but +you did not mention any names."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I?" said Paulina carelessly. "Oh well, I'm not good at +letter-writing. They're very nice people, and very kind. You needn't +feel shy about going there," for Clodagh's manner and rising colour had +already shown that shy she was. "It won't be a large party, as they are +quite alone just now; just the father and mother, elderly people, their +married son and his wife and two daughters, older than you and I." +Paulina rather liked to make herself out younger than she was, when it +suited her, though at other times she treated her cousin as if she were +a complete child.</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that," Clodagh replied. "Then," she went on, somewhat +nervously, "perhaps you won't wear your very best dresses there, or +shall I take out everything?" for this terrifying question of packing +and unpacking was still uppermost in her mind.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear me!" exclaimed Paulina crossly, "perhaps not. How can I say? +You'll just have to see. That's what I want you for—to use your +intelligence; don't you understand? I hate being asked about every +trifle." Then, feeling that she had been speaking irritably, she went on +more kindly: "I suppose you've got some tidy gowns of your own—your +granny liked you to look nice, I know."</p> + +<p>"I haven't got any proper evening gowns," said Clodagh. "I used to wear +simple white muslin—not grown-up gowns, you know, but since grandmother +died I've only had black."</p> + +<p>"Ah yes, of course," Paulina agreed. "Well, just wear your nicest black +in the evening. Your being in mourning will explain it's not being full +dress. When we get to St. Aidan's"—the place where she intended to +drink the waters—"I'll see about some gowns for you. I hear that the +shops there are quite modish."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Clodagh gratefully. But in her heart she was thinking: +"Oh dear, if <i>I</i>'m to have more clothes, it will make the packing still +worse, and where am I to put them if Cousin Paulina complains already of +my luggage?"</p> + +<p>But no more was said on the subject just then, and before very long they +found themselves at Felway, where they left the coach, to complete the +rest of the day's journey in Squire Marriston's chariot, which was +awaiting them, as well as, to Paulina's satisfaction, a cart for their +voluminous belongings.</p> + +<p>The elder girl stepped into the roomy vehicle and glanced round her with +approval.</p> + +<p>"What a comfort to be less crowded up!" she exclaimed. "Clodagh, tell +them to put everything in the cart. Just give me my satin mantle—these +hot days sometimes end in chilly evenings—nothing else," and as her +cousin obeyed her, "You are sure nothing was left in the coach?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing," replied Clodagh confidently. "Still, I'll glance inside +again, to make quite sure," and she did so, for the stage-coach was +still there, waiting for fresh horses.</p> + +<p>She came back to report satisfactorily, and they set off.</p> + +<p>It was a longish drive, five or six miles, and the latter part through +rough roads and lanes which reminded Clodagh of her native land.</p> + +<p>"Thank goodness," said Paulina more than once, "that it is not winter +or very wet weather. We should stick fast in the mud in these +cart-tracks, to a certainty."</p> + +<p>But before long they reached the Priory, safe and sound, and as they +drove up the avenue, caught sight of two or three figures waiting to +welcome them in front of the picturesque old house.</p> + +<p>It was not a very large place, but home-like and attractive. Clodagh, +who was accustomed to huge rambling "castles," often in a more or less +dilapidated state, felt glad that this, the first English country-house +she had seen, was smaller and less imposing, and the kind greetings of +the Misses Marriston soon helped her to feel less shy and timid. It was +long before these modern days of "five o'clock teas," but then dinner +was proportionately early, and when the new-comers had shaken hands with +the rest of the family, assembled in the hall to welcome them, Annot +Marriston, the younger of the daughters and Paulina's special friend, +proposed that the cousins should at once go up to their rooms.</p> + +<p>"You will be glad to take off your travelling things," she said, "and +dinner will be ready in less than an hour."</p> + +<p>At this, Paulina's face fell, and Clodagh looked rather blank. For by +this time they were standing in the spacious and comfortable +guest-chamber prepared for the former, out of which opened a smaller but +pleasant little room for her young cousin companion. But in neither, +naturally enough, was there as yet any sign of their belongings.</p> + +<p>"Dinner in less than an hour!" exclaimed Paulina; "and how am I to +change my dress? I suppose, my dear Annot, the luggage-cart won't be +here in time?"</p> + +<p>Miss Annot shook her head.</p> + +<p>"Not for an hour or nearly that, I fear," she replied. "It comes slowly. +But there is room on the chariot for a box or two. I wish I had told the +men to mention this, and then you could have brought on with you +whatever you needed at once."</p> + +<p>Paulina looked extremely annoyed.</p> + +<p>"Clodagh," she said sharply, "you really might have thought of it."</p> + +<p>Clodagh looked and felt guilty.</p> + +<p>"I will do so another time," she murmured.</p> + +<p>Annot felt sorry for her.</p> + +<p>"I'll run down and enquire about the cart," she said. "Possibly it may +not take as long as I said," and she was hastening off when Paulina +stopped her, for she had sufficient good sense and feeling not to wish +to begin their visit by a scene of ill-temper.</p> + +<p>"After all," she said, "it does not very much matter, my dear Annot, if +you all will kindly excuse our enforced <i>deshabille</i>, as I understand +you are quite alone—just your own family party."</p> + +<p>Annot hesitated a little.</p> + +<p>"Ye-es," she replied. "Certainly only a family party. But I was just +going to tell you that Cousin Felicity has arrived unexpectedly. She had +retired to her own apartment before you drove up. That is her way, you +know. She swoops down upon us without the slightest warning and off +again in the same way."</p> + +<p>"How very disagreeable!" ejaculated Paulina, but Miss Marriston hastened +to correct her.</p> + +<p>"No," she said, "on the contrary, we are always very pleased to see her. +She is a most interesting person and has travelled immensely. At the +same time, I confess that we are somewhat in awe of her, and always +behave to her with the greatest deference and respect. She is a strange +mixture. Sometimes she goes about like an old peasant or gipsy—no one +knows how old she really is! But on occasions, always at dinner for +instance, she dresses magnificently—her diamonds are a sight to see! +That was why I hesitated just now, for I should have liked you to be in +correct attire. I will just ask about the cart," and off she went, to +return in a minute or two with the cheering information that there was +every chance of the luggage arriving in about half an hour.</p> + +<p>"And in the meantime," she said, "let me lend you brushes and combs, or +whatever will help you to begin your toilet."</p> + +<p>"Oh pray do so," said Clodagh gratefully. "Cousin Paulina, I am at least +sure that I can arrange your hair so as to please you. I have really +practised hair-dressing. I have so much of my own."</p> + +<p>"Well, then," said Paulina, when kind Annot returned with the promised +articles, "you may as well set to at once," and she proceeded to take +off her hat and veil and other things. "I don't think I ever heard of +this eccentric relative of yours before," she went on, turning to her +friend. "She must be quite a character."</p> + +<p>"That she is," was the reply. "I wonder I never told you about her. +Mother is not sure that she really is a cousin, but she likes us to call +her so. The relationship must be very distant, dating back to former +generations, for both my parents remember her as an old lady when they +were only children."</p> + +<p>Here Clodagh gave a little exclamation. Annot stopped politely.</p> + +<p>"Did you speak?" she said.</p> + +<p>Clodagh blushed, as she often did.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," she replied. "I don't know what I meant. It +suddenly struck me that I had already heard of some one like your +cousin, so very old that no one living could remember the person, +whoever it was, as anything but old. It is curious," she went on +dreamily, "that I cannot recall where I heard it," for even then no +remembrance of the landlady's mysterious description awoke in her mind.</p> + +<p>"Well, what does it matter?" said Paulina sharply. "Don't worry about it +when you are doing my hair. You gave it such a tug just now when you +started so."</p> + +<p>"I'm very sorry," said the girl, and she gave her whole attention to the +work in hand, as to which she was really skilful.</p> + +<p>Then Annot left them, repeating her hopes that the luggage would not be +long of coming. "I quite think it may," she said, "for they took a good +strong horse in the cart—not one of the ponies only."</p> + +<p>But time went on. Paulina's "coiffure" was completed, happily to her +satisfaction; the hands of the clock were fast approaching the +dinner-hour, and no sign of the longed-for arrival.</p> + +<p>"Only twenty minutes now," said Paulina. "Really I have never been so +awkwardly placed before. I must say, Clodagh, I do think——" But these +thoughts were destined to remain unrevealed, for at that moment there +came portentous but most welcome sounds in the corridor outside the +room, and in another moment a servant tapped at the door, and entering, +requested the ladies kindly to direct the placing of the boxes.</p> + +<p>Clodagh hurried out.</p> + +<p>"All of yours had better be brought in here, I suppose, cousin?" she +asked as she went.</p> + +<p>"Of course, but not yet," Paulina exclaimed. "What are you thinking of, +child? First of all I must get dressed. My black lace will be the +quickest for to-night. It is in the brown leather imperial. Have that +brought in, and—and the large despatch-box, and the rest can wait till +we go downstairs."</p> + +<p>The first-named case was carried to its place, and Paulina was busy +selecting the key when Clodagh ran in with a startled face.</p> + +<p>"Cousin," she exclaimed, "the despatch-box is not there!"</p> + +<p>Paulina gave a shriek.</p> + +<p>"Impossible—and with all my jewellery! Clodagh, you vowed that you saw +everything off the coach, and I vow that I saw it lifted inside when I +started."</p> + +<p>"I did, I did see that everything was brought out," exclaimed Clodagh, +now on the point of tears, when luckily, oh the relief of it, a highly +respectable functionary in irreproachable attire appeared at the end of +the passage, carrying with his own majestic hands the missing case.</p> + +<p>"I have brought this myself, Madam," he said, addressing Paulina, "to +see it delivered into your personal keeping, surmising that it was of +importance."</p> + +<p>"Oh thank you, thank you a thousand times," cried the younger girl +impulsively in her joy, forgetting that she was not the person to reply, +till her cousin, with a condescending gesture, answered stiffly: "I am +obliged to you. You are quite right. The contents are of great value, +and but for carelessness," with a glance at Clodagh, "the case should +have come with ourselves in the chariot. It is not the kind of thing to +be sent in a cart."</p> + +<p>The butler, for such he was, bowed in reply.</p> + +<p>"Exactly so," he said. "Another time I should advise——"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," Clodagh interrupted. "I know it was my fault, but I shall +understand better in future. Paulina, do make haste. I have got your +dress out. We will be as quick as possible," she added, turning to the +butler, who took the hint and with another bow his departure also.</p> + +<p>And in an incredibly short time, thanks to Clodagh, whose eagerness +seemed to give her two or three pairs of hands instead of one, the elder +girl was attired, jewellery and all. She looked very handsome, and her +young companion stepped back a step or two to admire her.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Paulina, glancing at the mirror with complacency, "I think I +look all right. You're not half a bad maid, child, or let us say——"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, if you're pleased, I don't care what I'm called," Clodagh +interrupted. "If only," she added, with a little sigh, "if only I can +learn about the luggage, the packing and unpacking and not losing +things."</p> + +<p>She opened the door as she spoke for her cousin to pass out, and for the +first time, as she stood there, the colour of excitement in her face and +the sparkle in her eyes, it struck Paulina that the "child," as she +called her with half-contemptuous affection, was fast becoming a very +pretty creature, and with this came a sudden flash of self-reproach, for +there was nothing consciously selfish or small-minded about the elder +girl, spoilt and self-willed and autocratic as she was.</p> + +<p>She stopped short with a gesture of horror.</p> + +<p>"What have I been thinking of?" she exclaimed, "and you yourself, +Clodagh? You're not dressed—you've not begun to dress, and the +dinner-hour already or almost. Why didn't you remind me that you had to +get ready too?"</p> + +<p>Clodagh smiled.</p> + +<p>"I really don't think it matters," she said. "I haven't got a proper +grown-up gown to begin with, and really there wasn't time to get out my +things too. I'm sure Mrs. Marriston will understand, and I daresay I can +have a little dinner sent up to me, if you——"</p> + +<p>But she stopped short, for just then Annot came running along the +passage towards them. "Can I——?" she was beginning, when, glancing at +them and the confusion of boxes and bags lying about, she saw that there +was something the matter. Paulina rapidly explained, and "Need I come +down?" pleaded Clodagh.</p> + +<p>"If she doesn't," persisted her cousin, "it will put everything wrong. +It will look as if—as if—you know, Annot, I want her to be considered +a sort of younger sister of mine. We <i>are</i> near relations. Clodagh, you +don't want me to seem selfish and unkind."</p> + +<p>Miss Annot considered.</p> + +<p>"After all," she said, "Clodagh—may I call you so?—is scarcely +grown-up, and being in mourning too. If you just arrange your hair a +little, though really it does not look bad—it is so bright and +wavy—and—let me see, I can lend you a pretty simple fichu—over your +plain black bodice it will look rather well. Come with me—my room is +close at hand."</p> + +<p>And in two or three minutes they returned to where Paulina was anxiously +awaiting them—Clodagh looking quite fresh and sweet in the half +Puritan-like garb, with a bow of black velvet in her hair and a bunch of +violets as a breast-knot.</p> + +<p>"Yes," thought her cousin, "she's going to be quite a beauty. I must +get her some proper clothes, but"—as her eye fell on the confused pile +of their possessions beside her—"I don't know how ever she will manage +all this, and yet I can't go about with a maid as well! I do hope for +her sake as well as my own that I haven't been rash in this plan."</p> + +<p>But she smiled pleasantly enough as she thanked Annot for her kind +offices, and then the three made their way downstairs together.</p> + +<p>The drawing-room, or "long parlour" as the Marristons called it, +deserved the latter name, for long it was. In fact it had originally +been two if not three rooms, of which the end one was the most +important, as it was considerably wider than the other part. It was the +"saloon" of the house, where on more formal occasions the family +received their guests, though in an ordinary way their manners and +customs, as was the case in those days, while by no means "free and +easy," were simple and homely enough.</p> + +<p>But a visit from Cousin Felicity, however sudden and unexpected, at once +necessitated gala gowns; the opening of the "withdrawing-room"; longer +and more ceremonious meals, and all things in accordance with what the +strange guest considered due to her.</p> + +<p>For the time being the upset concerning the luggage and the consequent +hurry had caused both the new-comers to forget all about their +fellow-visitor, and it was with no preoccupation of mind concerning her +that Paulina and Clodagh, escorted by Annot, made their way down the +long room, to where at the end the members of the family group, whose +greetings they had already received, were awaiting them. As they drew +near, their hostess approached.</p> + +<p>"You have made good speed, dear Miss Paulina," she said kindly, "dinner +is not yet announced. In the meantime allow me to introduce you to our +esteemed friend and relative, whose visit has happily coincided with +your own," and she took the young lady's hand and led her towards a +large chair of state covered with magnificent brocade, on one side of +the fireplace, in which sat a small figure—small, but for that very +reason perhaps among others—so startling was the contrast with its +costly attire and with its extraordinary dignity and stateliness—the +very reverse of insignificant or unnoticeable.</p> + +<p>Paulina half unconsciously drew back a little, slightly turning away. +She was naturally of a haughty disposition, added to which, adulation +and flattery had helped to spoil her, and at once she felt annoyed at +being led forward like a child, to be presented to a complete stranger, +and this disagreeable sensation was increased by the fact that the +figure in the great chair remained motionless—motionless and mute. The +small lady might have been a statue or a wax doll. But in spite of +herself something made Paulina look straight at "Cousin Felicity," and +now that she saw her at close quarters, the splendour of her jewels, the +priceless lace in which she was draped, almost took away the younger +woman's breath. She half gasped—and then, feeling her eyes caught and +held as it were by the strange power of the piercing black ones, +gleaming in the midst of the colourless little old face, Paulina, +mistress of her emotions as she prided herself on being, Paulina, to +whom timidity and shyness were unknown, felt her cheeks crimson, and +hardly realising what she was doing, she curtseyed low and +deferentially.</p> + +<p>"Though, after all," as she said to herself a minute or two later, when +she had recovered her usual, somewhat arrogant self-possession, "after +all, hateful old cat though she is, she is an aged woman—too old to +act these ridiculous travesties—and I hope I know what good breeding +demands of politeness to our elders."</p> + +<p>For, as this mention of her later reflections shows, Paulina was by no +means as yet out of the wood.</p> + +<p>The ancient lady held out her glittering hand.</p> + +<p>"Does she expect me to kiss it?" the girl asked herself, when, to her +horror, came a reply to the unspoken query.</p> + +<p>"No," said Cousin Felicity, as she touched the tips of Paulina's now +extended fingers, "no," and this was the first word she had uttered, +"she does not. But what she sets far before curtseys and deference to +fine clothes and diamonds is respectful behaviour to the poor and aged. +How about the old peasant who presumed to intrude upon you this +morning?"</p> + +<p>Then Paulina knew, and she shivered. But her courage was good. "It was +not only what you think, Madam," she replied, "you do me scarce justice. +I desire to show respect to age. This morning I was taken aback. I was +so newly roused."</p> + +<p>Cousin Felicity bent her head, as if in royal pardon, though she did not +speak, and Paulina turning quickly, was glad to catch hold of Annot, +who with some of the others had drawn near in curiosity, though this was +tempered by their familiarity with the strange old dame's eccentricity.</p> + +<p>"You have met before?" Annot whispered. "She often frightens people at +first," for she felt that her friend was trembling.</p> + +<p>"I am not frightened," returned Paulina in the same tone. "I was only +startled and—rather angry. I had forgotten all about what you told us. +I will explain afterwards. I don't think people—especially old +ladies—should play tricks to catch others."</p> + +<p>Annot smiled, but she herself looked nervous.</p> + +<p>"Dear Paulina," she pleaded, "for goodness sake, don't be angry. I told +you she was not to be counted in any way as an ordinary person. Don't +frown so. She may see it—oh no, she is now occupied with Clodagh. Just +watch."</p> + +<p>For by this time it was the younger girl's turn to be led up to the +great armchair.</p> + +<p>She had been standing a little in the background, standing there +dreamily, as if she were trying to remember something. But she did not +seem timid or shy when at a touch on the arm from her hostess she came +quietly forward, her sweet Irish blue eyes, looking almost black under +their long lashes, lifted with a sort of gentle, half-bewildered +enquiry, as she drew near to the formidable little old lady.</p> + +<p>And for the first time, as the keen, piercing glance of this redoubtable +personage fell upon the young girl, a smile, softening the hard +expression and marvellously rejuvenating the small dried-up features, +crept over Cousin Felicity's face.</p> + +<p>"Welcome, my dear," she said, as she held out her hand in an inviting +though yet regal manner, and Clodagh, feeling, she knew not why, +impelled to do so, stooped and kissed it gently and respectfully.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus7" id="illus7"></a> +<img src="images/illus7.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>Stooped and kissed it gently and respectfully.</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"Thank goodness," murmured such of the family as were near enough to +watch the small drama, "thank goodness, she has taken a fancy to the +child, and Clodagh is much more tactful than Paulina," for in their +heart both Mrs. Marriston and her daughters had been trembling, +especially since the reproof which the elder girl had received.</p> + +<p>"I am glad to thank you for your courtesy to a lonely and homely old +fellow-traveller this morning," Cousin Felicity continued, and then +Clodagh's grave face brightened and a touch of colour came into it. She +had scarcely overheard what had passed between Paulina and the aged +guest, or rather perhaps she had been in too absent a mood to take it +in. But now a look of relief spread over her, and she answered in her +usual frank and simple way.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she said, "I am so glad you got here comfortably. I think we had +both fallen asleep at the time you left the coach, and I—I was so sorry +not to have been of any service to you—I had no idea we were bound for +the same place," she added, with a little smile of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Naturally," Cousin Felicity replied; "that is why I so fully appreciate +your courtesy." And she gave an odd though not disagreeable little laugh +as she went on: "I hope you lost none of your goods and chattels on the +way? You seemed to be somewhat overburdened."</p> + +<p>Clodagh drew still nearer to the old lady.</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed," she said. "I am not surprised at your noticing it." +Paulina was not near enough to overhear, "We have a terrible number of +packages," and her face grew anxious at the remembrance. "It was that, +partly, that made my cousin seem so cross," she went on, lowering her +voice. "We were so crowded up. And I am so unused to travelling. I don't +know how I shall manage. Paulina is so kind to me, and of course I must +learn to be of real use to her."</p> + +<p>The elder Miss Marriston, Thomasine by name, was standing near. She +smiled at Clodagh's sudden, almost childish outburst of +confidence—afterwards Clodagh felt at a loss to explain it to herself, +for as a rule she was by no means a chatterbox—and remarked, though +with a touch of deferential apology in her tone:</p> + +<p>"Our Cousin Felicity is the genius of travelling in person. If she would +teach you some of her experience, Miss Clodagh, you would indeed be +fortunate. We always do say, you know, dear cousin, that you manage as +if by magic."</p> + +<p>The old lady smiled. She did not seem ill-pleased.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Clodagh, glancing almost with reverence at the exquisite +yellowish lace, of cobweb-like texture, draping its owner's skirt, "to +see all these lovely treasures of attire, one wonders how it can be so +quickly arranged and re-arranged—and packed! For, as far as I remember, +Madam, you carried but little with you."</p> + +<p>Cousin Felicity smiled again.</p> + +<p>"You are right," she said. "I detest encumbrances. I travel with the +smallest amount of luggage possible. Not that this lace would add to +it——" and she passed her jewelled fingers over it fondly. "All I am +wearing could go through a wedding ring. It belonged to my—ah, well, we +need not say how far back among my ancestors it dates from."</p> + +<p>"It was made in fairyland, I believe," murmured Clodagh, and then there +stole across her memory some of the old tales and sayings she had heard +in her nursery—how that the "good folk," the "little people," reckon +not age and time as we do—that five centuries is in fairyland but as +five years, if that, to us. And the story of little Bridget, whose human +life ebbed out "between the dawn and morrow," poor little Bridget! +recurred to her with a slight shiver. It must have shown in her eyes as +she raised them again to her new friend's strange face. But what she +read there reassured her in some mysterious way, and then, as if a door +or window had suddenly opened in her mind, there flashed into her +remembrance all that the landlady of the old inn had told her that very +morning about the mysterious and fitful lady in the neighbourhood.</p> + +<p>"It is she herself," thought Clodagh. "How extraordinary that I did not +guess it before! But, fairy or no fairy, she wishes me nothing but +good," and a sweet, grateful smile lighted up the young girl's face, +chasing away the first vague misgivings.</p> + +<p>"Yes," came in a very soft whisper to her ears, "yes, my dear, you know +something about me, and before we part we must have some talk together," +but to this there was no time for her to reply, as at that moment dinner +was announced and the elder Mr. Marriston came forward to offer his arm +to the venerable guest.</p> + +<p>Somehow, though she found herself for the first time in her life among +strangers, Clodagh did not feel shy or ill at ease. She had an +underlying consciousness that she was kindly regarded, for her own sake +as well as to please her cousin. Paulina, who by this time had regained +her self-possession, was gentler than her wont, and did not speak much. +Indeed, though all passed pleasantly there was an indefinite feeling of +formality and ceremony not usual in the cheerful and friendly family +group.</p> + +<p>"It is not half as lively and amusing with that old——" "cat," Paulina +was probably going to say but for a "hush" from Clodagh, for it was to +her young cousin she was whispering on their way to the drawing-room. +"Well—with <i>her</i> here," she continued. "They are all so desperately in +awe of her, I can't understand it."</p> + +<p>"But do be careful," urged Clodagh. "She may overhear, and you really +should be polite and respectful. As you say yourself, age alone demands +it."</p> + +<p>"I'm not going to be rude," Paulina replied, and she meant what she +said, though in her heart she had not forgiven the reproof she had +received, especially as she knew she had deserved it. But just as they +were entering the long parlour, Clodagh stopped her.</p> + +<p>"Cousin," she said, "I cannot rest with the thought of all our +things—yours especially—in such confusion upstairs. Will you allow me +to go to our rooms now and arrange them, partly at least? I am sure Mrs. +Marriston and her daughters will excuse me, if you explain to them."</p> + +<p>Paulina hesitated. She had a horror of seeming to treat her young +relation as an inferior, and yet she saw that it would really be kinder +to agree. Just then Thomasine came up to them, and on Paulina's putting +the question to her she took Clodagh's part.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I think it would be far better than for this child to +stay down till late, and then probably not get to bed for ever so +long." For the Marristons fully understood the position. So Clodagh, +much relieved, bade Thomasine a cheerful good-night and ran off.</p> + +<p>She worked hard—unpacking, separating, to some extent packing again, +for the weather was very hot and she knew that certain clothes could not +possibly be required during the few days of their stay at the Priory. +She was quick and intelligent and sensible, still she was very young and +her task was not an easy one, and but for her extreme anxiety to be of +real use to her cousin, she would almost have despaired of managing it.</p> + +<p>"But it would never do for me to lose heart at the first start," she +said to herself, "and of course, unless I prove fit for the post, +Paulina could not afford to keep me with her, as Lady Roseley explained. +For she is not <i>very</i> rich, and it is such a blessing to be with her +instead of with strangers who knew nothing about me except that I was +poor and homeless."</p> + +<p>So she cheered up and worked on bravely. The evenings were long, for it +was barely past midsummer, and the dinner had been early, so she had +time enough to arrange her cousin's belongings, though she had scarcely +touched her own, when Paulina made her appearance yawning and wishing +herself in bed.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, child!" she exclaimed, as she caught sight of Clodagh, +"are you at it still? Why, I expected to find you undressed at least, if +not in bed. But I must say you seem to have a head on your shoulders. My +things look most methodically arranged. And how about your own?"</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Clodagh, much pleased, in spite of feeling very sleepy and +tired, "I shall soon get them done. I will not make any noise if you go +to bed now, but I should like to feel things were tidy before——"</p> + +<p>But Paulina interrupted her.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," she said. "I insist on your going to bed yourself. Just get +out what is absolutely necessary. You can finish in the morning, and +remember," she went on, for she was standing with the door open, and the +corridor was still encumbered, "remember to ask the servants to pile up +or carry away some of these boxes. One can scarcely get in and out of +the rooms. I wish your luggage were a little more concentrated. You have +such a number of small cases and bags."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Clodagh agreed. "You see I have never travelled any distance till +now," and she eyed her goods and chattels somewhat disconsolately.</p> + +<p>"We must arrange about it," said Paulina vaguely. "But now, get to bed +quickly," and after all, Clodagh felt that she really was getting too +sleepy to do more than was unavoidable, and in a short time both girls +were fast asleep, Clodagh's last waking thought being a resolve to get +up very early indeed to complete her arrangements.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could have got it all done to-night, but anyway the confusion +outside could not be cleared till to-morrow."</p> + +<p>She was tired and she slept soundly, still not quite dreamlessly. One +very queer experience she had, and even when she was wide-awake, and +daylight streaming in, she could not make up her mind if it had been +dream or reality.</p> + +<p>This was it, "and," she said to herself, "I am almost certain I was +awake."</p> + +<p>It was midsummer weather, as I said, so the window was wide open, and +suddenly through the silence Clodagh heard a familiar sound. It was that +of bees humming. It grew nearer and nearer, and opening her eyes—or +dreaming that she did so—she looked up. The room was flooded with +moonlight, and in it she perceived the source of the sound. Two large +bees were buzzing about, very busy apparently, but as there were no +flowers on the table or mantelpiece, Clodagh wondered sleepily what +could have attracted them.</p> + +<p>"I hope they won't sting me," she thought, for the humming grew nearer, +and then, strange to say, out of it gradually soft-whispering words +shaped themselves.</p> + +<p>"Don't wake her, whatever you do," said one bee. "She is fast asleep and +we must obey orders."</p> + +<p>"But we can't help humming," murmured the other.</p> + +<p>"Well, hum gently. It will soothe her, and let us set to work, for there +is plenty to do before daylight."</p> + +<p>That was all she heard, and soothe her the sound must have done, for she +knew nothing more till she really and unmistakably awoke, to see the +sunshine—the lovely, clear early summer morning sunshine—pouring in, +to hear the dear birds welcoming another happy beautiful day.</p> + +<p>Clodagh started up. She had never felt fresher or brighter; all last +night's tiredness had gone. She was used to early rising, and felt that +to stay lazily in bed was impossible.</p> + +<p>"It would be delicious out-of-doors," she thought, "but I <i>must</i> finish +the tidying and sorting, if possible before Paulina awakes," and she +sprang out of bed.</p> + +<p>But—she rubbed her eyes—was she dreaming? The cupboards, of which +there were two in the old-fashioned room, the roomy chest of drawers, +all stood open, as if to exhibit their contents and demand approval, and +in them were arranged with the perfection of neatness and judiciousness +all her possessions, last night in disorder and barely unpacked. And on +a chair lay her garments for the day, not only those she had herself +placed there, but a spotless cool white gown—much cooler than the black +one she had travelled with—the very one she had been hoping to get out +and don that morning.</p> + +<p>"Have I done it all in my sleep?" she asked, and then some undefined +feeling made her open the door and peep out into the passage. Wonder of +wonders! All the confusion had disappeared. There stood there, in +dignified importance, two roomy, substantial trunks only, one of which +she recognised as her cousin's principal one, with her initials in small +brass nails on the lid, the other, similar in make and appearance, with +the first letters of her own two names marked in the same way. The very +sort of thing she had begun to long for since seeing Paulina's.</p> + +<p>She lifted the lid—a series of trays was disclosed, and examining +further, she perceived at the bottom, most beautifully folded, all her +own thicker clothing, gowns and woollens quite unsuitable for present +wear, and as she went on in breathless excitement to peer into her +cousin's, there was the same arrangement. The very garments she had +herself put aside for the present, the evening before, lay there +undisturbed, or rather, she suspected, far more exquisitely folded than +she had left them. And all the rest, the bandboxes and carpet-bags and +unbusiness-like odds and ends she had brought over the sea, had +disappeared, as if by magic.</p> + +<p>"And magic it is," she said to herself, for, as she stood there +listening, a clock in the distance struck five, not another sound or +rustle was to be heard. Not a soul was as yet astir in the old house.</p> + +<p>Clodagh danced back into her room.</p> + +<p>"The fairies are afield," she sang to herself softly. Never had she felt +so gay and light-hearted. "I shall dress and run out into the garden," +she thought. "There is nothing to keep me indoors. Everything is +safe"—for the heavy despatch-box she knew to be in Paulina's keeping. +"What will the servants think when they see it?"</p> + +<p>What they did think was that each thought the others had cleared away +the pile of the young ladies' luggage, leaving only what was required. +Or at least, as no questions were asked, no remarks made, they probably +thought so, if they thought about it at all! Perhaps their curiosity was +put to sleep by some uncanny though not maleficent influence. Who can +say?</p> + +<p>And in a very short time Clodagh was ready, and hat in hand, looking +like the very spirit of the morning in person, she ran downstairs to +find the old hall-porter sleepily unbarring the great door, though, +sleepy as he was, he could not restrain a smile of admiration and a +respectful "You be early about, Miss," to which she laughingly replied, +"Who could help it, once they were awake, on such a morning?"</p> + +<p>Yet another surprise awaited her, as you shall hear.</p> + +<p>The Priory grounds were fairly extensive and delightfully quaint. Great +laurel hedges, alternating with curiously high-clipped yews, and some +magnificent elms added to the impression of space, as well as to that +sort of pleasant "mystery" without which no garden is thoroughly +fascinating.</p> + +<p>"What a lovely place to explore!" said Clodagh to herself, as she turned +down one long shady path, streaked here and there with the early +sun-rays filtering through the foliage. Then a sound reached her ears, +which recalled her experience of the night before. It was the humming of +bees. She stood still for a moment to listen, feeling as if she were on +the confines of some enchanted region. Then slowly, treading very +softly, she went on. Yes—in a minute or two she saw at the end of the +path a huge beautiful beehive, its inhabitants flying in and out, +buzzing away, like the busy creatures they are. And in front of it stood +a quaint little figure, whom Clodagh this time had no difficulty in at +once recognising as the mysterious "Cousin Felicity" again.</p> + +<p>Her laces and diamonds of the evening before seemed a dream, though her +dress was dainty enough, much finer in quality than the very homely +attire in which Clodagh had first seen her. It was a gown of flowered +chintz, of the delicate colouring and excellent material that one now +and again finds treasured among family relics—such as "my +great-grandmother's" or even "great-great-grandmother's dresses." And +the skirt was drawn through the pocket-holes in the orthodox +old-fashioned way, showing the pink cotton petticoat and the neat little +high-heeled shoes. The whole figure, as she stood with her back to the +new-comer, was so trim and slim and youthful, that it gave almost a +shock to Clodagh when the little lady turned suddenly and she caught +sight of the tiny, withered, white face, surmounted by a kind of mob +cap, from beneath which escaped a few soft grey curls. Yet it was +evident that Cousin Felicity was in very good health and spirits, for +she smiled beamingly as she accosted the young girl.</p> + +<p>"The top of the morning to you, my dear," she said. "That's your +national greeting, is it not? I knew you were not a lie-abed. Well, and +how wags the world with you? I have been visiting my friends here, you +see. We understand each other, these clever little creatures and I," and +she fixed her bright eyes on Clodagh.</p> + +<p>For a moment or two Clodagh stood silent. Then a smile broke over her +face.</p> + +<p>"Madam, lady, what shall I call you?" she exclaimed. "I must say it. I +know the truth. You <i>are</i> a fairy. It is you I have to thank for what +has been done to help me in the night!"</p> + +<p>"Call me what you please, my dear, when we are alone," said the old +lady, "but keep what you know, or suspect—rather more than the actual +fact, by the bye," she added—"keep it to yourself. I know you are +discreet, otherwise I could not be of service to you as I intend to be. +Now tell me, child, what are your troubles or anxieties, for some I know +you have——"</p> + +<p>"I don't feel as if I had any at all this morning," Clodagh interrupted +laughingly.</p> + +<p>"Ah, well—so much the better, it shows a healthy nature," was the +reply. "But, tell me, is that very autocratic young woman, your cousin, +good to you? Are you happy to be with her?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, truly I am," Clodagh replied eagerly. "That is to say, I feel +sure I am going to be so. You see we only met again yesterday, after not +having seen each other for several years, not since I have been +grown-up. But I must explain. Paulina is very kind. I am sorry she was +rude to you yesterday. She was sorry herself afterwards, but she is only +quick-tempered and spoilt. She has a kind heart. When my dear +grandmother died I should have been homeless, forced to earn my living +with strangers, but for her," and by this time Clodagh's eyes were +filled with tears.</p> + +<p>Cousin Felicity nodded her head slowly, and in a moment or two she spoke +again.</p> + +<p>"Did you love your Irish home very dearly?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Did I? <i>Do</i> I, rather," the girl replied. "Oh, dear lady, I adore it! +But it is mine no longer. It belongs to strangers, it is best for me not +to think of it; though I have known all my life that I should have to +leave it when Granny left me, I don't think I realised it. That is why I +am glad to travel. It is interesting, and takes my thoughts off, to see +new places and people. I am glad that Paulina travels so much, if +only——" and here she gave a deep sigh.</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha," cried the little old lady, but though slightly mocking, her +tone was not the least unkindly, "now we are getting to your troubles. +What is that deep sigh about?"</p> + +<p>"It's my fear that I can't manage things properly for Paulina," said +Clodagh, "and if so, I must leave her. She is not <i>very</i> rich. She can't +afford to buy me pretty gowns and things, as she means to do, if I +cannot save her having a maid. She cannot take two about with her. Oh, +it's the luggage! Do you know, yesterday I thought I had lost her +jewellery—I'll never forget my horror!"</p> + +<p>"Would you like to know how <i>I</i> travel? Shall I show you?" said her new +friend.</p> + +<p>Clodagh looked at her wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"Indeed I would," she said. "But then," she went on, "though I am afraid +you do not like me to say it, I <i>know</i> you are a——"</p> + +<p>"S-sh. Never mind about that. Come with me," was the reply.</p> + +<p>It was still very early. No one was about. Cousin Felicity took the +girl's hand and turned to re-enter the house by a different way from +that by which Clodagh had come. But before doing so, she stopped a +moment and waved her tiny hand as if in adieu to the beehive.</p> + +<p>"Thanks many," her companion heard her murmur. "You did your work well +last night," and to Clodagh she went on, with a twinkle in her bright +eyes, "Were you pleased with what you found this morning—the new trunk +and all?"</p> + +<p>"Pleased!" exclaimed the girl rapturously, "I couldn't believe my eyes. +Not that I mind work," she went on, "I think I can soon learn to pack +and unpack cleverly. It is the responsibility of all the things, the +terror of losing them, that distresses me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," said her friend, "I understand. I do not mean to do all your +work for you. It is the industrious and active, not the idle and lazy, +that"—and here she gave her funny twinkling smile again—"that <i>they</i> +help, as all the stories you have heard over the sea always tell. You +shall see what I can do, and what you must do yourself."</p> + +<p>By this time they had reached a side entrance to the house. The door +stood open; a small staircase faced them, up which with wonderful +quickness, considering her great age, Cousin Felicity sprang, followed +by Clodagh, and crossing a landing, opened the door of a room, inviting +the girl to enter with her.</p> + +<p>It was a pleasant room; the first impression it made on Clodagh was of +whiteness—and exquisite neatness. It matched the little old lady to +perfection.</p> + +<p>"This is where I always am, when I visit these kind people," she said. +"No one ever has this room but myself. And," she went on in a low voice +as if speaking to herself, "who, if I tried to tell it, would believe +for how many generations it has been appropriated to me?"</p> + +<p>Clodagh felt a thrill of awe as she caught the mysterious words. But in +another moment Cousin Felicity had turned to her briskly, pointing to a +neat, good-sized trunk standing in front of the fireplace.</p> + +<p>"That is all <i>my</i> luggage," she announced. "It holds more than Paulina's +fine lady's maid would have got into half-a-dozen like it, because <i>I</i> +know how to pack. But—look at it well."</p> + +<p>Clodagh stared at it obediently.</p> + +<p>"Shut your eyes." She did so. Then it seemed to her that she heard a +murmur of words.</p> + +<p>"Open." Clodagh again obeyed. And this time, stare she did, for—the box +was no longer there, it had vanished from view!</p> + +<p>She was too astonished to speak.</p> + +<p>"Hold out your hand," was the next command.</p> + +<p>Cousin Felicity laid something on the outstretched palm. Clodagh gazed +at it in amazement and admiration. It was a miniature trunk, evidently +of the finest make. Never had she seen such a perfect toy of its kind, +and it was an exact facsimile of her strange old friend's substantial +box, which a minute before had been standing in front of her in the most +matter-of-fact way. It was small—not above a couple of inches in +length, and half as much in width and depth, but curiously heavy. It +might almost have been a small block of lead, fashioned to represent a +Liliputian portmanteau, and still Clodagh stood there staring at it, +without speaking.</p> + +<p>"That is how <i>I</i> travel," said the mysterious little lady at last. "It +contains all my belongings, just as I told you the other—or rather +itself in its other proportions—does. See, I slip it in here," and she +held out the black hand-bag, or reticule, which the girl had noticed in +the coach, and taking the little box from Clodagh she did as she said, +"I draw the strings, I hang it over my arm," accompanying her +explanations by the appropriate actions, "and there I am, ready to +journey from one end of Europe to the other, or farther still, with no +anxiety."</p> + +<p>Her young protégée lifted her eyes.</p> + +<p>"It is too marvellous, too delightful for words!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>The little old lady smiled graciously.</p> + +<p>"I knew you would say so," she replied. "Well, now, I can extend this +magical power to you, on two conditions. You must keep the secret, +absolutely and entirely, and you must do your own work perfectly. There +must be no untidiness or hurry-scurry; you must never leave things +behind, or tear or crumple them—if so, your carelessness will bring its +own punishment, for it would prevent the spell's working, and even +I—fairy or witch as you think me——"</p> + +<p>"No, no," Clodagh interrupted eagerly, "not witch. You are too kind and +charming to be that."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, we can leave aside the question of what or who I am. The +point is what I can <i>do</i>, and what I cannot. And counteract the working +or not working of the spell if the rules are broken, is beyond my +power."</p> + +<p>"But I <i>will</i> keep them," exclaimed Clodagh. "That is to say, I will do +my very best to be most neat and methodical. Granny trained me to be +neat. And I will keep the secret; that I promise, <i>only</i>——" and her +face fell as a sudden idea disconcerted her.</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"If Paulina suspects anything? If she notices, and thinks there is +something strange about it all?"</p> + +<p>Cousin Felicity smiled.</p> + +<p>"I will see to that. You need not be afraid. If you fulfil your part, +you will have <i>no</i> trouble, as regards Paulina or any one else. Come +now—I will go with you to your rooms to explain all, before any one is +about. But first—close your eyes for a moment. Yes——" and when +Clodagh opened them, there stood the trunk again, as she had first seen +it!</p> + +<p>She followed the old lady down a passage or two, and up some steps, till +at the end of the corridor she saw that they were in the part of the +house familiar to her. Cousin Felicity stopped in front of the two +trunks, Paulina's and Clodagh's new one, standing just outside the doors +of their rooms, and glanced at them approvingly. She was just going to +speak when the girl touched her on the arm.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," she began timidly, "I am afraid that Paulina may be awake +by now, and if she heard us and looked out——?"</p> + +<p>Her friend nodded reassuringly. Then she noiselessly opened the door of +the sleeper's room and stepped in, Clodagh close behind her. It was +almost dark inside, for Paulina was not one of the people who like to +see the dawn gradually creeping up—she always had her blinds drawn +down. Still it was light enough for Clodagh to see the mysterious +visitor make her way, swiftly and soundlessly, to the side of the bed. +Then she stooped over the pretty face lying on the pillow, touched the +closed eyelids softly, murmuring something inaudible, then came back to +Clodagh waiting near the entrance and led the way outside again, closing +the door behind them.</p> + +<p>"<i>That</i> is quite safe," she said, smiling. "Have no fears for the +present or the future. You will have no difficulties, I assure you. +Now—" and she stood before the two closed boxes. "See," she said, "and +listen. Whenever you have packed them neatly and perfectly, sure that +nothing is forgotten, you lock as usual, deposit the keys safely, then +stand in front of each in turn, touch the initials with your +fore-finger—you have each three, 'P. O'B.' and 'C. O'B.'—saying slowly +and clearly as you do so</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"One, two, three,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dwindle, says Felicity.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Then close your eyes for a moment, and you will see—hold, I will show +you now. Shut your eyes." Clodagh did so. "Open." She obeyed, and there +in front of her lay, so small that at the first moment she scarcely +perceived them, two miniature editions of her own and Paulina's trunks, +brass nails, letters and all.</p> + +<p>"Feel them," said her companion.</p> + +<p>Clodagh stooped and picked them up, her eyes sparkling with eagerness. +They were heavy, certainly, but less so than the old lady's own one.</p> + +<p>"You have a hand-bag?" this personage enquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," replied Clodagh, and in a moment she had fetched it. It held +the toy trunks perfectly.</p> + +<p>"Take them out again," came the order.</p> + +<p>"Now," her friend continued, "listen. When you reach your destination, +withdraw them from your reticule, place them wherever is most +convenient, touch the letters again, beginning with the last, and say +this time</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Three, two, one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Journey's done,<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>and—all will be as you desire."</p> + +<p>She smiled as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"You may test it at once," she said. "Place them on the floor. Now——"</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Three, two, one,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Journey's done,"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>repeated Clodagh, touching the letters, as she did so, "B," the last, +first. Then she shut her eyes, and when she looked again—yes—there +they were, the two neat capacious trunks, as before.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, with a sigh of delight. "It is too good to be true! How +can I thank you?"</p> + +<p>But as she looked up, holding out her hands in gratitude, lo and +behold—Cousin Felicity had vanished. Glancing round quickly, however, +Clodagh fancied she saw a shadow of something disappearing at the turn +in the passage. Whether this was so or not, who can say?</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"> +<a name="illus8" id="illus8"></a> +<img src="images/illus8.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3>Lo and behold—Cousin Felicity had vanished.</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"I will thank her again when we meet downstairs," thought the girl, +little imagining that this was not to be.</p> + +<p>Just then the door behind her opened, and Paulina, her eyes still but +half-awake, peeped out.</p> + +<p>"Oh, child," she said, "is it late? You up and dressed already! I must +hurry."</p> + +<p>"There is plenty of time," Clodagh replied. "It is still early."</p> + +<p>"How well and bright you look!" Paulina exclaimed. "You must have slept +well. So unlike my last travelling companion—that silly Pélagie—not of +course, dear, that I mean to compare you with a maid-servant—but the +airs she gave herself! She could never sleep the first night in a +strange place, nor the last, because she was nervous about the +pack——Oh," she broke off, "I see you've got rid of all the old bags +and bandboxes. What a good thing! I didn't know you had such a nice +sensible trunk, so neat, and just like mine."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the young girl. "It really holds more than I require. I have +planned it all, Paulina. You shall never have any trouble about the +luggage if you will leave the whole to me."</p> + +<p>"I shall only be too thankful to do so," said her cousin lazily. "I +think you are a genius, my dear. The way you have arranged my dresses +and everything is simply perfection."</p> + +<p>Half an hour or so later, the two, summoned by the breakfast gong, made +their way downstairs, where most of the family were already assembled, +and as the others dropped in, Clodagh looked round eagerly for her +new-old friend. But come she did not, and after a short delay Mrs. +Marriston turned to her elder daughter.</p> + +<p>"Thomasine, my dear," she said. "I think you had better go upstairs to +enquire for Cousin Felicity and offer to escort her. I scarcely like to +begin breakfast without her, for fear of seeming to lack respect."</p> + +<p>For those old-fashioned days were very ceremonious and any want of +deference to the eccentric old lady was not to be thought of. Thomasine +went at once, but in a very few minutes returned alone, holding a scrap +of paper in her hand, looking somewhat disconcerted, though she was half +laughing also.</p> + +<p>"She has gone!" she exclaimed, "bag, baggage and all, leaving this."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Marriston took the paper eagerly. "Oh, <i>can</i> we have offended her?" +she said anxiously, but a moment after, she too laughed. "No, I see it +is all right," she went on, reading aloud the note in her hand.</p> + +<p>"'Farewell for the present, kind friends,' it said. 'A sudden summons +to——'—no, I can't decipher the word—'cuts short my visit. Fare you +well, one and all.'"</p> + +<p>They looked at each other. Annot took the paper from her mother. "No," +she agreed, "I cannot read it. But we never do know where she goes or +how she goes! It may be Kamschatka or the moon."</p> + +<p>"Or fairyland," murmured Clodagh.</p> + +<p>"All the same," said Paulina, who, for her part, was by no means sorry +for the mysterious lady's flight, "it cannot but be rather trying to +have such a guest. She expects to be received with regal honours, and +then off she goes like 'old Mother Goose when she wanted to wander.'"</p> + +<p>The others laughed.</p> + +<p>"My dear Paulina," said Annot, "you are a <i>young</i> 'Mother Goose' +yourself, with your love of travelling."</p> + +<p>"Quite so," Paulina agreed. "But you will allow that I give my +hospitable friends <i>some</i> notice of my intentions. And, after all," she +added, "some day, when Clodagh and I have had enough of wandering, we +shall settle down, no doubt."</p> + +<p>"And, to do our late guest justice," said Mrs. Marriston, "erratic as +she is, her visits have never brought us anything but good luck. Her +crossing the threshold is always beneficent. This very morning we have +excellent news from India of our dear Humphrey, who, we heard by the +last mail, was seriously ill. He has quite recovered."</p> + +<p>She spoke of a younger son in the—in those days—<i>very</i> far-off East.</p> + +<p>Clodagh had glanced up with quick interest when Paulina alluded to "some +day settling down." Her feelings at present were very mingled. She +scarcely understood them herself. She was ready keenly to enjoy the +novelty and exhilaration of travel, seeing new places and people, and +now that her one misgiving had been so marvellously removed, her spirits +rose high. But still—she had not yet been away a week from her own old +home, hers no longer, and already there were moments when, if she closed +her eyes, she saw in fancy the dear rugged walls of Grey Rocks—the +scene of her own and Paulina's childhood—and heard the splash of the +waves at the foot of the cliffs, and then she would feel the tears +creeping into her eyes, and she thought to herself, "I suppose it is +what is called 'home-sickness,' but I must not give way to it. If only I +could hope some day to go there again!"</p> + +<p>It was not a very ambitious hope, for Grey Rocks was but a small domain, +and had Clodagh's father lived it might have still been their own.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, however, she greatly enjoyed the stay at the Priory, +and every day she grew cleverer with regard to her duties. She practised +folding and arranging Paulina's many garments till she really reached +perfection, and she was so methodical and careful, yet never fussy or +overwhelmed, that Paulina declared she had never been so splendidly +looked after in her life. So far this was most satisfactory. Still, when +the week to which their visit had been extended drew to its close, it +must be confessed that Cousin Felicity's young protégée was not without +nervousness as to the working of the spell.</p> + +<p>"Suppose," she thought, "suppose I had dreamt it all!" But then her +glance fell on her own beautiful new trunk—"No, no," she added, "of +course it was real and true."</p> + +<p>And when the morning of their departure came, nothing could have +exceeded her care to remember everything.</p> + +<p>She waited till Paulina, fully attired for the journey, had gone +downstairs for a few last minutes with her hosts, then she rapidly +deposited the precious despatch-box in a corner of her own trunk, in +which there was still room; closed and locked both; recited as directed +the words of the spell, shut her eyes, and waited, as before.</p> + +<p>Yes—all was right. There lay the miniature luggage, and in another +moment both toy boxes were safe in her reticule, and with light feet and +a light heart she ran down to join the others, just as the chariot which +was to take them to the nearest posting-house drew up at the door.</p> + +<p>"Everything is ready," she said to Paulina. "I have seen to the +luggage," and Paulina nodded carelessly.</p> + +<p>"The ladies' things have gone on in a cart, I suppose?" asked one of the +Marristons. The dignified butler replied that he understood it had been +seen to, the truth being that he had not thought about it; and on his +side the old hall-porter took for granted that the housemaids had had it +conveyed down the back-stairs, that is to say if <i>he</i> thought about it +at all!</p> + +<p>Anyway, as the mysterious lady had promised, so it fell out. Clodagh was +troubled with no enquiries, no interference.</p> + +<p>And arrived at St. Aidan's Wells, where they were to spend some weeks, +all continued satisfactory. Once, it must be confessed, on their way, +Clodagh had a fright. For they had to make two breaks in the long +journey, spending one night at each, and on the second occasion, after +Clodagh had closed and locked and repeated the spell, lo and behold, it +refused to act! She started in terror, then her eyes fell on her own +little slippers, which she had forgotten to pack. In a moment she had +repaired the mistake, and then—yes, all went as before.</p> + +<p>"But," said the girl to herself, "I must be <i>more</i> than careful. For +possibly a second lapse on my part might not be forgiven."</p> + +<p>They remained at the watering-place for a month or two, then started off +again; this time for a lively seaside town where Paulina had arranged to +meet friends; then, as the autumn drew on, to country-houses in the +hunting districts, for the elder girl was a good horsewoman, as indeed +was Clodagh also. What true Irish girl is not?</p> + +<p>It was all very pleasant and exciting and the cousins enjoyed it, yet +sometimes Paulina declared herself tired and wishful for a rest, even +though her journeys were accomplished with the smallest possible +trouble. The variety of their visits called of course for constant +renewal of dresses and additions to them, but never did the two +spell-bound trunks seem too full, and every time she packed and +unpacked, Clodagh thought with inexpressible gratitude of the "fairy +lady," as to herself she called her, and her bestowal of the strange +secret.</p> + +<p>"But for her, I could not have managed," she often reflected. "I should +have had to give it up—it would not have been fair to Paulina, and then +where could I have gone, for home in my own country I have none? And oh, +how, through all the novelty and amusement and excitement of +travelling, in spite of the kindness I meet with, oh how I sometimes +long to be in dear grandmother's old turret room, listening to the faint +whirr of her spinning-wheel, and the louder sound of the waves breaking +on the cliffs below! I can feel the breeze that always blew in if the +casement in the deep window-seat was open; I can taste the salt flavour +of the spray that sometimes on stormy days flew up to where I sat! Oh +dear old home! I wonder if Paulina ever feels about it in the least as I +do?" and then she would fall to wishing that she could somehow earn +money enough to buy back the old "eyrie," and be its little châtelaine. +"How I would enjoy receiving Paulina, and making <i>her</i> enjoy it!"</p> + +<p>But for these day-dreams she had not much leisure, and she knew that she +should not indulge in them. Still the longing was always there, and as +time went on it grew more persistent and intense.</p> + +<p>"It is just home-sickness," thought Clodagh, and she felt that she must +not give way to it.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could meet 'Cousin Felicity' again," she often said to +herself. "She was so wise. I am sure she would advise me how to keep +cheerful and content. And yet she must have understood, for I remember +her asking me if I loved my home very dearly."</p> + +<p>The weeks and months and almost the years—for one had fully gone, and +the second since Clodagh's arrival on this side of the water was well on +its way—passed, and then one day came little looked-for tidings.</p> + +<p>The cousins were just then again at St. Aidan's, which Paulina, who had +great faith in its waters, made a point of visiting once or twice a +year. One morning, when Clodagh came in from doing some little +commissions on the Parade, she found her friend, pale as death, half +fainting in her chair, an open letter in stiff, formal writing on her +knee.</p> + +<p>"Clodagh, oh Clodagh," she exclaimed, "read, read. Who could have dreamt +of it?"</p> + +<p>And truly her distress was not to be wondered at, for the news was +appalling, being nothing less but that of the poor young woman's almost +total ruin by the failure of a bank. Clodagh for a moment felt stunned, +but she soon collected herself and did her best to comfort her cousin.</p> + +<p>"Take courage, dear Paulina," she said. "There is no need for despair. +You have still enough for comfort of a simple kind, and I will work for +you. It will be my turn to repay your generosity."</p> + +<p>"Dear child," murmured her poor cousin, all her high spirit broken, "you +have already far more than repaid anything I have done for you. But +don't leave me, promise me. If we must starve, let it be together."</p> + +<p>"We shall not starve," said Clodagh cheerfully. "If—oh, Paulina, I +wonder if you could make up your mind to live at Grey Rocks. My old +nurse would take us in. She has a little farm and a nice clean house. +Granny gave it to her and furnished it. We could live there on almost +nothing, and every one would know who we were and be good to us." Her +eyes actually sparkled at the prospect.</p> + +<p>And after a little Paulina caught some of the younger girl's spirit.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "it is the best thing we can do. I have none but happy +remembrances of the old place."</p> + +<p>So Clodagh wrote to the friend of her grandmother who had been her +guardian, asking him to see her nurse and arrange it. Writing direct +would have been useless, as the simple woman had never learnt to read. +And as quickly as the slow mails of those days could bring it, came Mr. +Fitzgerald's reply. More than a reply indeed, for he began the letter by +saying that he had pen in hand to write to her when her request reached +him, for he had an extraordinary communication to make.</p> + +<p>"Grey Rocks, my dear Clodagh," he wrote, "is yours, your own property. +It has again been for sale, as the late purchaser inherited unexpectedly +a large property and did not care to retain the smaller one, and on the +very day before I heard from you, a certain firm of lawyers, well known +to me and entirely trustworthy, sent over a confidential clerk to +arrange for the purchase for yourself—Miss Clodagh O'Beirne—of the +entire little property, as a gift, an absolute gift from an unknown +friend, on one condition only, that you will never seek to discover the +giver. I rejoiced inexpressibly, but my rejoicing is doubled and trebled +since the receipt of your distressing news this morning. Surely never +was a kind deed more appropriate. All is already in train, and whenever +it suits you to return, you, accompanied I hope by Miss Paulina +O'Beirne, will be welcomed with heartfelt joy by us all."</p> + +<p>Clodagh's delight may be imagined, and to Paulina also the news was an +immense relief.</p> + +<p>"Who can be the unknown friend?" she exclaimed, adding, however, "But as +you must never try to find out, perhaps it is better not to speak of +it."</p> + +<p>"Much better," said Clodagh, and they never did.</p> + +<p>And a happy home old Grey Rocks proved. It was but seldom they cared to +leave it. But when they did "want to wander," and with good management +their joint means were enough to enable them to do so now and then, you +may be sure that their only luggage was the two well-tested trunks, +whose marvellous properties never failed. Clodagh, of course, in her +heart had her own secret belief as to the identity of her benefactor or +benefactress, but the mysterious "fairy lady" she never saw again. And +whether her visits to the Marristons at the Priory continued or not, I +cannot say.</p> + +<p>Nor can I tell you the after history of the cousins, though something +whispers to me that their lives were happy. But it all happened a long +time ago. I cannot go over to Grey Rocks, for I do not know, to tell the +truth, in what part of old Ireland it stands. Possibly still, in some +forgotten corner of a deserted attic are hidden away the enchanted +trunks, no one guessing their fairy powers! Who can say, though I am +sure most of us wish that they, or others of their kind, belonged to us. +How delightful it would be!</p> + + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fairies Afield, by Mary Louisa Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRIES AFIELD *** + +***** This file should be named 39167-h.htm or 39167-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/1/6/39167/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license + + +Title: Fairies Afield + +Author: Mary Louisa Molesworth + +Illustrator: Gertrude Demain Hammond + +Release Date: March 16, 2012 [EBook #39167] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRIES AFIELD *** + + + + +Produced by Delphine Lettau, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + + + + + + + + + FAIRIES AFIELD + + BY MRS. MOLESWORTH + + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + GERTRUDE DEMAIN HAMMOND + + MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED + ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON + + 1911 + + [Illustration] + + MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED + + LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA + MELBOURNE + + THE MACMILLAN COMPANY + + NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO + ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO + + THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. + + TORONTO + + * * * * * + + I DEDICATE THIS BOOK + + TO ONE WHO LOVES FAIRY STORIES + + THE REVEREND JOHN CYRIL HOWELL + + 155 Sloane Street, S.W. + _May 8, 1911._ + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: Pretty Ysenda.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + + "ASK THE ROBIN" 1 + + A MAGIC TABLE 60 + + THE WEATHER MAIDEN 121 + + THE ENCHANTED TRUNKS 176 + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + TO FACE PAGE + + PRETTY YSENDA (P. 66) _Frontispiece_ + + "IT MAKES ME THINK OF ALL SORTS OF LOVELY + SUMMER THINGS" 8 + + WITH A WONDERFUL NOTE OF EXCEEDING JOY, HE + SPREAD HIS WINGS AND FLEW ROUND THE + BOWER, RETURNING AGAIN TO PERCH ON THE + CHILD'S STILL OUTSTRETCHED HAND, AS IF IN + GRATITUDE 52 + + "YOUR MOTIVE WAS PURE KINDNESS--FREE FROM + ALL SELFISHNESS, THEREFORE YOU SUCCEEDED" 119 + + "SO YOU HAVE COME AT LAST, LITTLE MAIDEN" 136 + + SHE CAUGHT SIGHT OF A TINY FIGURE PEERING AT + HER FROM BEHIND THE RUBBISH 150 + + STOPPED AND KISSED IT GENTLY AND RESPECTFULLY 214 + + LO AND BEHOLD--COUSIN FELICITY HAD VANISHED 239 + + + + +"Ask the Robin" + + +Once upon a time--a fairly long ago time--there lived in a neat little +cottage two young girls who were sisters. If you had gone to see them on +a bright warm summer's day, I daresay you would have envied them and +their life and their lot. For they were pretty and healthy and they +loved each other dearly, and the cottage was charming to look at, in its +dress of clustering roses and honeysuckle and traveller's joy, and other +sweet and beautiful climbing, flowering plants. Furthermore, it stood in +a little garden filled with treasures of different kinds, pansies, of +which there was a great variety, and lilies and mignonette and all the +flowers one loves to see in an old-fashioned garden of the kind. And the +sisters kept it in perfect order, the beds were always raked, there was +never a weed to be seen, the tiny plots of grass were like velvet. + +In spring too it was very pretty, when first the snowdrops and then the +crocuses and primroses and violets woke up after their long winter +sleep, and in autumn also there was a show of beauties, dahlias and +chrysanthemums and kitchen pokers and other pretty things of the season. + +And indeed, even in winter, the place had its charm, of evergreen shrubs +and bright berries and--till the snow came and made an end of all but +the hardiest plants, the still remaining lovely variegated leaves of +late autumn. + +No care or skill was wanting to keep the whole as pretty as could +possibly be, for the sisters' father was a gardener, and from him they +had learnt both love of growing things and knowledge of all needed for +their welfare. And not so very long before this story begins I doubt if +Aria or Linde--these were the girls' names--cared what time of year it +was, for all were happy days to them. Glowing summer, sparkling spring, +rich mellow autumn, even winter, often cold and grey--all brought joy +and gladness, till one sad night terrible sorrow fell upon them. Their +father was drowned on his way home from market, in crossing a swollen +stream, whose rushing waters broke down the little wooden bridge, over +which in the darkness he was driving his small pony-cart. And as the +poor girls' mother had died years before, they were now truly orphans. + +The neighbours--such as there were, for there were but few--were sorry +for them and kind, as far as they could be. But it was a lonely part of +the world. The gardens where the drowned man had been one of the +labourers belonged to a rich landowner who seldom visited his property, +and all that the place produced was sent to the nearest town and there +sold. Thus there was no one of importance to take much interest in Aria +or Linde, except the steward of the castle, who advised them to look for +situations as servants, and when they wept and said they could not bear +to be parted, he got angry and called them fools and left them alone. + +For a short time they got on pretty well. They were still very +young--Aria barely seventeen and Linde only fourteen, but they were +active and capable and ready-witted, and their father had managed to +save a little, though, alas, but a little. + +Aria made it last as long as she possibly could. It was summer, and they +needed but small fires and cheaper clothing and even--so it seemed to +them--simpler food than in the cold weather. Then they were able to +earn a fair amount by odd work in the hay-fields and so on, when work +was at its best. And once a week, at least, they trudged all the way to +market laden with their loveliest flowers, tied up with great taste and +care, and sometimes, as the season advanced, baskets full of the wild +fruit that they gathered in the forest hard by. Have I told you that +their home was on the edge of a forest? No? Ah well, never mind, we +shall hear more of the forest by and by. + +But summer, and even autumn, only stay for their appointed time. As they +stood at the cottage door one morning late in October, Aria's face grew +very grave. It was a chilly day, the sky overcast and steely, a sort of +sighing in the air as if the spirits of the summer and the sunshine were +bidding the world a reluctant farewell, frightened away by the +fast-approaching winter. + +It was Friday, the day before the market, to which so far they had never +missed wending their way, even if the weather were wet or stormy, as it +must be now and then at all times of the year. + +"How dull and cold it is!" said Linde with a little shiver. "Aria, I +wish we didn't need to go all the way to market to-morrow, if it's +going to be like this." + +Aria looked at her without speaking for a moment. Then she said very +seriously: + +"You are thoughtless, Linde, but then of course you are much younger +than I, poor child. You say you wish we need not go to the town +to-morrow? My dear, I am only afraid that your wish will come true! I +don't see what we have to take to market--the fruit is all over and we +have but very few flowers to tie up." + +Linde's face fell. Then she brightened up a little. + +"There are lots of lovely leaves," she said. + +Aria glanced over the garden. + +"Yes," she replied. "I think we may manage two or three good bunches for +to-morrow, and possibly for another Saturday too. And--" she went on, +"it has struck me that some of the townsfolk, who are always glad to buy +our flowers, might care for our dried rose-leaves--we have quite a large +jar-full, you know." + +Linde clapped her hands. + +"What a good idea!" she cried. "Oh I'm sure the leaves would sell. So +few of the ladies in the town have proper gardens of their own." + +"Or time to look after them, luckily for us," said Aria, "otherwise our +flowers would not be in such request." + +For though little Linde spoke of their customers as "ladies," the good +housekeepers of the small but busy town were mostly of the working-class +themselves--that is to say, wives or mothers of the men employed in the +china manufactories on which the place depended, and in those days, +long, long before railway lines, there were no such things as flower +shops. The only chance of getting fresh garden produce was the market. + +"Luckily for us too," Aria went on, "there are no great gardens near, +except at the castle, and father often said it was hard work to keep the +countess supplied with flowers enough, even though she sent express +messengers for them twice a week." + +"All the same," said Linde rather dolefully, "I wish father hadn't been +a gardener. Flowers are so delicate and wither so soon. If we'd had a +little dairy now--or even poultry, and could have sold butter and eggs, +and chickens. They'd have gone on all the year round." + +"Linde, dear, father never had money enough to buy cows or even +poultry," said Aria with a sigh. "And it would have been difficult to +get much to the market, so far off as it is, without a cart and pony, +and how could we have bought these?" + +For the pony which had perished with the poor man was the property of +his master, though he was sometimes allowed to carry shrubs and bulbs of +his own to market, with the castle vegetables, when he went to sell them +at the town. + +Linde did not answer. Her spirits were very apt to go up and down all in +a minute, so Aria spoke again more cheerfully. + +"Yes," she said, "I'm glad I thought of the rose-leaves. They are really +most fragrant still. I lifted the lid yesterday for a moment. The powder +that father gave me to throw among them was wonderfully good. I wish we +had more of it." + +"Is it quite done?" asked Linde. + +"Very nearly. It was given to mother, you know, when she was a bride by +an old woman who was her godmother. She declared it had fairy power and +would never grow stale. And so it has proved. We may safely promise any +who buy the leaves that they will scent their linen even better than +lavender, and more lastingly. Come along, Linde, and let's see how we +can best take a good parcel of them with us to-morrow," and Linde's +interest revived again, as she followed her sister indoors. + +The dried leaves--what are often called "pot pourri," though the simple +sisters had never heard the name--were kept in a very large jar, of +old-fashioned stoneware. It had a lid, and would nowadays be highly +valued as rare and antique. But of this its owners knew nothing. They +only loved it for their parents' sake, as it too had been a wedding gift +from the godmother. And whence she had got it no one had ever known. She +was herself a rather mysterious person. Folks used to say--so Aria +remembered having heard when she was a little girl, helping her mother +to gather rose-leaves to fill the jar--that there was something of fairy +nature about her. + +"And however that may have been," said Aria, as she repeated this to +Linde, "certainly her gifts have proved lasting. The jar has been +knocked over several times, you know, and never broken, and the powder +is as fresh as a newly gathered rose." + +"Yes," Linde agreed, after a good long sniff at the jar's contents. +"It's delicious. It makes me think of all sorts of lovely summer +things." + +[Illustration: "It makes me think of all sorts of lovely summer things."] + +Then they consulted as to how they could best carry the precious +leaves to the market for sale. + +"We needn't take them _all_," pleaded Linde. "I do wish we needn't sell +any. It seems a shame." + +"Almost," her sister replied, "but it can't be helped. If only I had had +more of the powder," she repeated, "we might have collected and dried +quantities of rose-leaves." + +"Or if we knew how to make the powder," said Linde. + +But that knowledge was not to be had. + +Aria had reached down the jar, which stood on a high shelf in a corner, +and the fragrance seemed to fill the room. + +"Leave off sniffing it, Linde, dear," she said, for the child kept +bending over it, "and let us plan how to take the leaves to market. We +can't of course carry the jar, but it wouldn't do only to pack them in a +sheet of paper. Ah, I have it," and she ran up the tiny ladder-like +staircase which led to their little bedroom above, returning with a +good-sized old-fashioned box or canister of tin, with a firm lid. "The +very thing," she exclaimed joyously. + +"It will be dreadfully clumsy and heavy to carry," objected Linde. + +"Oh no, I can easily manage it, and a bunch or two of flowers as well, +without being overladen," said Aria. "And see here, Linde, I will take +this little cup," and she held up a small mug of lustre ware, "I fancy +it will hold about two ounces weight of the leaves. For that quantity +say we charge half a groat--and if we are lucky enough to sell twenty or +even twelve cups full, that will get us through next week beautifully." + +Then she filled the little cup and weighed its contents. They were just +over her idea. And Linde's spirits rose again as she helped her sister +to cleanse the canister from every speck of dust or mould and then to +fill it with the perfumed leaves. + +All that day the cottage seemed pervaded by the fragrance. Accidentally +a few of the leaves and some grains of the powder fell among Linde's +curly hair, and when she brushed it out at night she was amused at its +scent. It was not to be wondered at perhaps, that as her head lay on the +pillow she should have dreamt of the jar and its contents and the old +mystery associated with them. + +This was her dream. + +She thought that she and her sister were standing at their usual corner +of the market-place, their posies of flowers and large bunches of autumn +leaves carefully arranged before them on the rough wooden table, the tin +canister in the middle and a little heap of the leaves displayed in +front of it. It seemed very early, there were scarcely any people about. +Suddenly up came a small old woman, a stranger and what Linde would have +called "a foreigner," for her dress was either that of another country +or of a date already quite passed out of fashion. She glanced at the +flowers, and appeared to be passing on, when she caught sight of the +little heap of dried leaves, on which she stopped short and Linde felt a +pair of bright eyes fixed on her. Then the stranger smiled and nodded, +and, bending towards the child, murmured in her ear the mysterious +words: "Three times, and then ask the robin." + +"How--what do you mean?" exclaimed Linde in her dream, trying to catch +hold of the owner of the piercing eyes, as she turned away. But before +the little girl could touch her, she was gone, and in the start of +disappointment Linde awoke. + +"What a queer dream," she said to herself, as she lay thinking of it. "I +wish Aria were awake, I do so want to tell it her." + +But Aria was fast asleep, her face looking so peaceful in the moonlight +that Linde was too unselfish to wish to disturb her, for of late she +knew well that the elder girl's waking hours were full of anxiety. + +"I must wait till the morning," thought the child, and turning round she +herself was soon in a dreamless slumber. + +The next day Aria listened with great interest to Linde's story. + +"It is queer," she agreed. "It almost sounds like a message from +mother's uncanny godmother." + +"Don't call her 'uncanny,'" Linde objected. "It's rather a frightening +sort of word, and she mightn't like it. Supposing," she went on, +lowering her voice, "_supposing_ she really was a fairy, or partly one, +she may be back in fairyland for all we know, and some day we might see +her." + +But Aria shook her head. + +"No," she said, "she very likely had dealings with the fairies, but that +isn't the same as being one herself." + +"I'll keep a good look-out for her, nevertheless, at the market to-day," +Linde replied. + +And so she did. But no one at all resembling the quaint figure in her +dream was to be seen, and after a while Linde forgot about her, so busy +were the sisters that morning in selling their wares. + +The first of their usual customers, a kindly, well-to-do, housewifely +woman, who had known their father and always came to them for flowers, +was at once attracted by the delicious perfume of the dried leaves. + +"Dear, dear," she exclaimed, "it's not often that late autumn flowers +are so fragrant. Your posies are always fresh and sweet, but I've never +known their scent so beautiful," and she sniffed with satisfaction, +looking about to discover from which of the flowers it came. + +"It's not the flowers," explained Aria to the good dame. "It's something +new we have for sale to-day. I only hope that you and our other +customers may take a fancy to it," and she went on to tell of the +pleasant qualities of the dried rose-leaves--how their scent, if they +were laid among linen, was both fresher and more delicate to begin with, +and lasted much longer than that of the finest lavender. But she said +nothing of the sort of mystery connected with the powder; some instinct +prevented her doing so. Nor did she tell that but a little of it +remained, or that their stock of rose-leaves would soon be exhausted. + +"Who knows what may happen before that?" she reflected, and the words of +Linde's dream-visitor recurred to her, "Three times, and then ask the +robin." + +Dame Barbara was quite satisfied and greatly delighted. + +"Here," she said, fumbling for her substantial purse, "a groat for two +ounces of it, did you say? No, a half-groat only? My dear, you'll have +to raise your prices if the perfume is so excellent! Well to begin with, +give me the four ounces straight away, and here's a half-groat over and +above what it all comes to--dried leaves and fresh ones and flowers, all +together--just the tiny silver piece for luck, you know." + +Aria and Linde smiled and thanked her. And the thanks were repeated, +when, as she turned away, she called out, "I'll be the first to tell my +cronies of this. Dear, dear, I feel as if I were in a fairy garden +myself with the pleasure of the perfume. I had no idea that the robins' +forest had such treasures of roses. For you live in the forest, do you +not, or close by?" + +"Yes, just at its edge," they replied, "but," Linde went on eagerly, +"we never knew it was called after the robins. It is odd that we never +heard it." + +Dame Barbara nodded sagaciously. + +"'Tis a very old name. Scarce a one but myself knows of it, nowadays," +she said. "No wonder you children never heard it. There was an ancient +story--just a foolish tale--that the fairies haunted the forest, till +one day some cruel or stupid person killed a robin. Robins used to +abound there, and they are their special favourites, you know, and since +then never a fairy or a robin has been seen there. But I must hurry off +to finish my marketing." + +Aria and Linde looked at each other. + +"It must mean something," said Linde in a low and almost awe-struck +tone. "My dream, I mean, and the old woman saying, 'Ask the robin.'" + +"Yes," her sister agreed. "It is odd too that we never heard the old +name or the old story before. I wonder if father had? I have a sort of +remembrance of his once saying something about our being too near the +forest for robins to make their home with us, but I had a silly childish +idea that he only meant that all robins disliked forests." + +"I think I must have had the same notion," said Linde, "for we have both +of us now and then wished that robins would make their nests in our +garden, but we just thought they never would! We have hardly ever seen +one." + +"Very seldom," said Aria. "I have occasionally noticed a redbreast on +the hedge, seeming to look about him, but he was sure to fly away." + +But though they felt extremely interested in what they had heard and +very curious to find out if, as Linde said, her dream did "mean +something," just then they had no time to talk about it any more, for +Dame Barbara was as good as her word. Every one of their usual customers +for flowers seemed to have met the old woman and been told of the +wonderful dried leaves. And some strangers, too, new-comers or visitors +to the little town, stopped as they passed by, with exclamations of +"What a delicious fragrance! Can it be from these flowers?" and when it +was explained to them that the source of the perfume was the contents of +the tin canister, one and all immediately bought a cup-full, or two, +even in some cases three or four. Long before their usual hour for going +home, all the leaves were sold, and some would-be purchasers who came +too late were delighted to hear that next market-day there would be a +fresh supply of the coveted leaves. + +"Never has our purse been so well filled before," said Aria in great +content, as she tied up the little purchases of butter and eggs and +honey and other luxuries which she had scarcely hoped to be able to +afford. "Linde, it really has been a wonderful success. If only we had +jars and jars full of the leaves!" + +"Don't despair," said Linde. "Remember my dream. Who knows what may come +of it?" and very hopeful and happy, the sisters set off for their long +walk home. + +Nothing out of the common happened to them during the next few days. +Though they half laughed at themselves for doing so, they often kept +looking out in hopes of catching sight of a redbreast, but none was to +be seen, and though they strolled more than once farther than usual into +the forest, when their daily work was over, they there met with no +adventures. + +"I am afraid, Linde, dear," said Aria on the Friday evening, when they +had again filled the canister with the precious leaves to be ready for +market next day, "I am afraid that we must think no more about your +dream, or that it meant anything. We have still leaves enough for one +other day's sale after to-morrow, and we must just be thankful for the +help it has been, giving us time to consider what we must do to get +through the winter," and though she tried to speak cheerfully, the poor +girl could not keep back a little sigh, which Linde was quick to hear. + +"Aria, sweetheart, Aria," the child exclaimed in a piteous voice, "you +don't think, you can't mean that we may have to part? Oh I'd much, much +rather die, if we might but die together. Promise me, promise me that +you'll never leave me." + +"My darling," said Aria, bravely forcing back her tears, "Heaven knows, +it half kills me to think of such a possibility. So far, things have +gone better with us than we could have dared to hope; let us therefore +go on praying and trusting that we may keep together." + +Linde cheered up again. + +"Yes, yes, that is the best thing to do," she agreed. "And do you know, +Aria, though I get frightened sometimes, deeper down I have a feeling +that we shall get on well, after all. It is ever since my dream that I +seem to get this sort of comforting hope," she added, with a curious +light in her eyes. + +The elder sister, to tell the truth, had less faith in dreams and +presentiments than little Linde, but she was glad of anything to cheer +the child. So with a loving kiss they went to bed betimes, in +preparation for their long walk to market the next day, and soon fell +asleep. + +Aria woke first on Saturday morning. It was still very early, the dawn +barely breaking. But there was light enough to see Linde's face, all +rosy and smiling in her sleep. She quickly roused when she heard her +sister moving about the room. + +"Aria," she exclaimed, "Aria, darling, it's come again. The dream, I +mean." + +Aria turned and looked at her. At first the elder sister was inclined to +say that she was not very surprised. A dream that has made much +impression on one is apt to return, especially in this case, remembering +their conversation the previous evening. But the sight of Linde's happy +and excited face checked her. + +"I must not damp her hopefulness," she thought, "and after all--who +knows?"--"Was it the same as before?" she asked, "exactly the same old +woman and all?" + +"Yes," Linde replied, "just the same. We were in the market, and she +came by, and then stopped and seemed to be attracted by the rose-leaves' +scent. Then I felt her eyes on me and heard her voice--low but +clear--saying----," and here the little girl interrupted herself, "Oh +yes, there were just two words different, and that makes it seem more +real. She did not say 'three times,' but '_twice_ more and then ask the +robin.' I wonder," Linde continued, "I wonder if possibly we shall see +her herself. No--I don't think we shall. I feel that she can only come +in dreams." + +They were at their place in the market in good time as usual. Their +posies of late flowers and autumn foliage had, alas, diminished, but +their supply of the fragrant leaves was rather larger than the week +before, for, influenced perhaps by the "twice more" of Linde's dream +visitor, Aria had divided the contents of the jar into two equal +portions, each of which proved to be rather more than the first lot she +had carried off for sale. In fact the useful tin canister was this time +completely filled. + +And the demand for their new wares was even greater than the last time. +Dame Barbara and her friends had spread the fame of the wonderful +leaves. Aria could have sold what she had twice over, and more than one +of her customers assured her that if she could keep up the supply during +the winter, orders would be forthcoming from more distant parts of the +country. + +"I mean to make pretty bags and fill them with your leaves, for +Christmas presents to my friends," said one smiling young lady. "So +don't forget that I shall want ever so much of them a little later on," +and Aria thanked her and wisely refrained from saying that she feared +her stock was all but exhausted. + +"Don't be too sure of that," said Linde, when Aria sighed about it. "My +hopes have risen sky-high since the dream came again, though how we are +to 'ask the robin,' seeing that none of his kind ever come near us, or +how he could help us if we did come across him, is more than I can in +any way imagine! And after all, we have still enough leaves for next +market-day, which will be the _third_ time." + +"Yes," Aria agreed, "it is much the best to hope on and keep up our +spirits. And for the present we have no reason to despond. My old purse +is delightfully well filled to-day even though I could not make up my +mind to raise the price of the leaves as Dame Barbara urged me to do. I +felt somehow as if it would not bring me good luck." + +"I felt the same," said Linde. + +They spent a cheerful evening, and the following day, Sunday, passed +peacefully. When they returned from the ancient church in the +neighbouring village whither since their infancy they had always gone +with their parents, Linde asked Aria to let her go for a stroll in the +forest by herself, to which the elder sister, who was feeling a little +tired, agreed. + +"You are going to look for a robin, I know," she said with a smile, "and +possibly as the dreams have come to you and not to me, you may succeed +where I could not. But don't go too far, dear child. I should be anxious +if you were long away, for no doubt the forest _is_ rather uncanny, +somehow." + +"I won't go far," said Linde. "And I hardly hope to find out anything. +But I shall just look well about me. You see the real time has not yet +come. We are not to 'ask the robin' till after three market-days." + +When she returned home an hour or two later, she seemed thoughtful, +though not exactly depressed. + +"Well," asked her sister, "had you any adventures?" + +Linde shook her head, yet she smiled a little. + +"Only a very tiny thing happened to me," she said, "hardly worth +noticing. I strolled some way along the path that leads straight to the +heart of the forest--the main path, you know, Aria--and I was just +thinking of turning home, when, a short way down a much smaller path, +scarcely one at all, I caught sight of something bright lying on the +ground. At first I thought it was a scarlet berry or two, or some of the +red leaves one often sees, but when I stooped to pick it up, it was +this," and she held out a small feather. + +Aria took it--it was of a peculiar shade, almost more orange than red. + +"I know what you are thinking," said the elder sister,--"that it is a +robin's feather--from his red breast, and it certainly looks very like +it, but----" + +"Wait, Aria, till you hear the rest," interrupted Linde, and she opened +her other hand, in which lay two more of the fairy-like feathers, +exactly similar to the first. "The wonderful part of it was that though +they are _so_ tiny," and she glanced at the treasures tenderly, "and +though it was not a bright day, there was no sunshine, they glowed and +gleamed as if they were gems. I walked on a little way, you see, after I +had picked up the one, and there, some yards ahead, lay the second, and +the same with the third. But it was the last. I feel sure it was the +last, though I went on some distance. And somehow, three seem the right +number for a fairy message. It matches the three times in my dreams." + +"Then you do think they are a message?" asked Aria. + +"Of course I do. I marked the path well by breaking off twigs and making +a little heap of pebbles. Indeed it was necessary, for I had never +noticed before that there was a path there at all," and when she went on +to describe its position Aria agreed with her that it seemed quite a new +discovery. + +For the rest of the week Linde appeared satisfied to rest quietly on her +oars. She made no more expeditions to the forest, and indeed spoke less +than she had done of her dreams and their interpretation, though that +she was thinking much about them her sister felt sure, from the look in +her pretty eyes and the way she sometimes smiled to herself for no +apparent reason. + +So the days passed till again it was Friday evening and the sisters went +early to bed. Everything was ready for their little stall at the market, +but Aria sighed as she remarked that their autumn posies now made but a +poor show. + +"But there are the rose-leaves," said Linde. + +"Yes," her sister replied, "but the last of them, alas! See, Linde, the +jar is quite emptied!" + +"Do not be so downcast, darling," said Linde as they kissed each other +for good-night. "Why, we have seemed to change places of late! It used +to be you always cheering me--now it is I to cheer you." + +Aria smiled. She felt sure that it was the hope of the dream being +repeated for the magic third time that was brightening her sister. But +she said nothing that night. Only the next morning when she woke very +early, just as the first faint streaks of coming dawn were beginning to +appear, she listened anxiously, wondering if Linde was still asleep, and +felt glad when a tiny rustle, followed by a whisper, showed that the +little girl was also awake. + +"Aria," she said, "Aria." + +"Yes, dear, what is it?" + +"It's come again, the third time," she exclaimed joyously. "My dream! +Quite the same as before, only that the old woman just smiled at me, and +said, 'Once more, then ask the robin.' Aria, darling, it _must_ mean +something." + +And Aria herself was impressed. + +"But where are we--or you--to find the robin?" she questioned. + +"You're forgetting about the feathers, and the mysterious path," replied +Linde. + +She had carefully wrapped up the tiny treasures and hidden them in the +front of her frock. The knowledge that she had them safely there seemed +to give her courage and hope. That Saturday's sale was again a great +success, and on the following day, as on the Sunday before, when they +returned from church and their simple mid-day dinner was over, Linde +told her sister that she was going to the forest. This time she scarcely +asked Aria's leave, and though the elder girl was a little anxious, she +felt that it would have been useless to attempt to stop her. + +"Very well, darling," she said. "But don't go very far or stay very +long. Promise me." + +Linde considered. + +"I think I can promise," she said, "to be back by sundown. But, Aria, I +believe I may have to go again much farther, or to do--I know not +what--but feelings are coming to me," and she unconsciously touched the +place where the redbreast feathers were nestling. "You won't forbid it, +sister, will you?" + +Aria's face grew very grave. + +"Whatever has to be done, and wherever," she said, "why cannot we go +together? I am afraid of the forest. Even father believed that there +was some spell or enchantment over it. You remember he never allowed us +to go into it beyond a certain distance. + +"Yes," said Linde dreamily, "I remember. But maybe," and her face +lighted up with a bright smile, "maybe, Aria, the spell, or whatever it +is, is going to be broken," and though the elder sister trembled a +little at the words, she, too, felt a curious thrill of pleasant +excitement. + +So the two kissed each other fondly and Linde set off. She was well +wrapped up in a warm cloak, for the autumn days were fast growing +chilly, especially of course in the forest, where the short amount of +mid-day sunshine scarcely penetrated, so closely growing were the trees. +The cloak had originally been their mother's, then Aria's, and now the +elder girl had refreshed and rebound it for her sister. It was of good, +thick stuff and red in colour, and as Linde turned for a moment to wave +another good-bye at the entrance to the wood, it struck Aria that the +child looked rather like a human robin redbreast herself. She smiled at +the idea; somehow it cheered her. "May all good angels and the saints +guard her," she murmured as she re-entered the cottage. + +Linde walked on steadily. Not very fast, for she was keenly on the +look-out for any signs or tokens to direct her, and most anxious not to +miss the opening to what in her own mind she called "the feather path." + +And to her satisfaction she found it without any difficulty. It was +still of course broad daylight, that is to say as light as was usual +among the trees, and as she made her way along she kept her eyes on the +ground in hopes of seeing some more tiny specks of the unmistakable +orange-red. + +But in vain. There were no more feathers waiting for her. + +Feeling rather discouraged, Linde stopped short, and looked around her. + +"I must have quite passed the place where I picked up the third +feather," she said to herself. "I did not come as far as this the last +time. Must I go home--what shall I do?" + +She drew her cloak a little closer, and as she did so, her fingers +touched the spot where nestled her treasures. Immediately her hopes +revived. + +"Go on, go on," something above her seemed to say. She glanced upwards, +almost fancying that a voice had spoken to her, but nothing was to be +seen--except--yes, on the branch of a fir-tree near at hand, some yards +overhead, a bird was perching, and not only a bird, to her immense +delight she saw that it was a robin! + +Had it _spoken_? She gazed at it. It chirped encouragingly and spreading +its wings flew down, and then flew onwards in front of her. + +"Stay, robin, stay, and tell me what to do," cried the child. But it +only turned its little head towards her for half a second, and then +continued its flight. Linde by this time, however, had lost all +hesitation. On she ran, as fast as she could go, though now and then, as +if in consideration for her, her small winged friend stopped for a +moment or two, and Linde grew less breathless. Then it looked back at +her again, and in this way they got over a good deal of ground, till at +last--why, she could not have told--Linde stopped. And looking up, she +saw that her guide had disappeared. + +She gazed round her. It was a strange spot. She had never been here +before. Of that she felt certain, for she could not have forgotten it. + +She was standing by the edge of a small clearing among the trees. It was +in the shape of a circle, and in front of the firs, whose stems are of +course as a rule bare, were planted short thick bushes as if for still +greater enclosing of the spot. So thickly indeed were these placed, that +turning round to look behind her, Linde wondered how she had come +through them, for no opening was to be seen. It was like standing in a +room of which the doorway is in some way or other completely concealed. +Her heart began to beat faster, for even though she had scarcely moved +she felt as if she could never find her way out again. + +Suddenly a clear chirping made her look up, and to her amazement she +saw, in the very centre of the circular clearing, an object which she +was almost certain had not been there a moment before. And it was not +only her eyes which told her this, for her nostrils at once inhaled a +delicious perfume which she could not, for an instant, have been +unconscious of. It was that of the precious leaves! + +And the object which she was gazing at was an indescribably beautiful +rose-bush in full bloom, on the topmost branch of which sat her friend +the robin! + +He nodded encouragingly--and now his chirps took shape. They grew into +words, but whether other ears than little Linde's would have heard this +I cannot say. Enough that _she_ understood. + +"Yes," he said, as if in answer to her unexpressed surprise, "yes, I +went down to fetch it up," and she knew that he was speaking of the +rose-bush, "for you to see it for yourself, my child." + +Linde gazed at him for a moment or two without speaking. Was she +dreaming? she asked herself. But the familiar fragrance reassured her. + +"Is it--?" she began, "are these the roses that our fairy powder came +from?" + +Again the robin bent his little head. + +"Even so," he replied. "Fairy roses, that never lose their perfume. And +you would gladly fill the old jar again, would you not?" + +Linde clasped her hands. + +"Oh yes, yes!" she exclaimed. "The leaves mean everything to us. Not +only food and clothing, but a home--a home for us two together, instead +of terrible separation. Oh Robin, darling, may I gather the flowers and +dry the leaves, ready for the market? I'd come any day--or every day, to +fetch them, and oh how grateful we should be," and the tears rushed to +her eyes in her eagerness. + +But the redbreast's tone grew grave, and Linde began to tremble with +fear that he would say it could not be. But when he spoke again his +words surprised her. + +"Do you know the story of the forest?" he asked. + +"Yes--some part of it, at least. We know that--that--" for she felt his +bright eyes fixed upon her, and it made her hesitate, "something very +sad happened, and since then, no robins ever come here," she murmured. + +"Sad--yes indeed," he repeated, "and worse than sad. Wicked, cruel! A +monster in the shape of a boy shot one of our favoured tribe, deservedly +favoured, for, as a Christian child you know since when, we have been +honoured for our faithful service?" + +Linde bowed her head reverently. + +"I know," she whispered. "It was very wicked of the boy. But it was a +long time ago," she went on. "Can't you forgive it, and come back to the +forest again?" + +"'Tis almost fifty years ago," the robin said. "And for fifty years the +place has been under the ban. Our queen--call her fairy queen, or +guardian angel as best pleases you--pronounced it. But around the tomb +of the innocent victim," and he pointed downwards, "she planted the +rose-trees, of whose flowers by special favour the old godmother, of +whom you have heard, was allowed to gather a few. For she it was who +found our poor brother--here on this very spot--and summoned us to his +side. Our ancestor, I should call him, for it was long ago, and our bird +lives are very short--so surely they should not be cut still shorter?" + +"Surely not," said Linde. "Then are those the leaves we had in our jar? +I thought it was a powder--a fairy powder that the godmother +bequeathed?" + +"So it was. She dried and ground the precious leaves, and with the +powder perfumed the petals of her own garden roses, every year, so long +as she lived. But she never re-visited the spot. It has been closed ever +since the day when, the arrow still transfixing his tender body, the +robin was buried, though not dead." + +"Not dead," cried Linde. "What can you mean?" + +"That was the decree," he replied. "For fifty years he was to lie here, +till the forest could be purified from the pollution of cruelty." + +"And how can that be done?" Linde asked eagerly. + +"By the hands of a maiden--a child-maiden, who never, _never_ has been +guilty of cruelty to any living thing. Linde, are you that maiden?" + +The little girl was silent. Then she looked up, and her blue eyes did +not falter beneath the piercing gaze of the bird. + +"I think, yes, I think," she said, "no, I _know_ that I have never +wished or meant to cause suffering. If ever it has come through me, it +has not been by any intention of mine." + +"You speak the truth. We have watched and tested you, though you knew it +not," was the reply. "Now something more is asked of you. Courage!" + +"I'm afraid, I'm dreadfully afraid I'm not very brave," said poor Linde, +all sorts of alarming ideas rushing through her brain as to what might +be asked of her. Were they going to shoot _her_, possibly? Or to shut +her up in the tomb with the dead, or not dead robin? + +"Do not look so terrified," said the robin. "More shall not be asked of +you than you can do. We are not a revengeful race, as you well know. We +have always been faithful and loving friends to human beings. You know +the story of----" + +"Of the Babes in the Wood," interrupted Linde. "Of course I do. It was +partly that, that made me think of you, about _leaves_, you know," and +her face brightened. "I will try to be brave," she added. + +"That is right," said the bird. "Some expiation _must_ be made for that +boy's evil deed, and, as I have already told you, it was decreed that +the one to offer it must be a child entirely innocent of cruelty or +unkindness. For this, _you_, little Linde, have been chosen. Three +nights hence the fifty years come to an end--the moment for the spell to +be broken will arrive. Before midnight, you must be here, standing on +this very spot, where you now see me." + +Linde started. Had she shut her eyes for an instant?--what had happened +to them? For, to her amazement, the rose-bush was no longer there! The +robin stood on the grass, in the centre of the cleared circle. Yet she +had not seen the disappearance, nor heard the faintest rustle! + +"Oh dear," she thought, "magic doings are very queer. There _was_ a +rose-bush there, I am quite certain," but she said nothing. Some +instinct told her it was best to take things calmly, and to listen +attentively to the robin's instructions. "Where you now see me," he went +on, "till you hear the clock strike twelve." + +"The clock," Linde repeated. "There's no clock here in the middle of the +wood." + +"Indeed," said the robin. "Would you like to know the time at the +present moment?" + +"Yes," Linde replied. "I suppose it's nearly four o'clock." + +"Listen," whispered the bird, and as she obeyed, there fell on her ears +the prettiest bell-like chimes she had ever heard. "One, two, three--" +on to twenty, then a pause and in deeper tones, "one, two, three, four." + +"Twenty minutes to four," said her friend. "If it had been _past_ four, +the four would have struck first. All _our_ clocks are what your clumsy +human watchmakers call 'repeaters,' you see." + +"And what do you do to make them tell you the time?" asked the little +girl eagerly. + +"You just say 'What o'clock is it?' That is of course if you are at one +of the entrances to fairyland. You can generally find one if you look +about. They are always in the centre of a ring." + +"Oh," replied Linde, "that's a good thing to know. I often see fairy +rings, but I had no idea they had a door in the middle. Then tell me +more, please. I must wait till I hear the fairy clock strike twelve, +and then--will the door open? And--what do you want me to do? And--if I +can do it, will you let me gather some roses?" + +"Not so fast, not so fast," said the robin. "Let me see--what was I +saying? You stand here--the clock strikes, at the twelfth stroke you tap +the ground with the three feathers--you have them safe?" + +"Yes," replied Linde, feeling for them as she spoke. + +"The door will then open and you will descend. That is all you require +to know at present. Three nights hence, three nights hence." + +"But," began the little girl, "I must know something more. How am I to +find my way here in the middle of the night when it is all dark? It +wasn't easy to distinguish the path even by daylight, and now, even now, +I don't know how to get through these thick bushes on to it. I can't see +any opening in them." + +Instead of replying the robin suddenly spread his wings and alighted on +a bush close beside her, and at once Linde perceived that there was a +narrow sort of passage through the hedge. She turned towards it. + +"Thank you," she said, adding timidly, "May Aria come with me? Together +we might find our way better perhaps. We might bring a little lantern." + +"It will not be needed, and you must come alone. You may tell Aria all I +have told you; and if she is wise she will encourage you. I make no +promises. It is not for me to do so. But this you may depend upon--never +will you have cause to regret obedience to this summons," and as he +spoke, he spread his wings again and flew upwards. As he passed her, +there came a breath of the delicious perfume, and Linde felt that it +meant a promise after all, which raised her spirits, as pushing her way +through the hedge she found herself on the path outside and started on +her way home. + +"Aria will be getting anxious," she thought. "I must hurry. I do believe +it is all going to come right, but--oh dear, I do feel frightened at the +idea of finding my way here alone through these gloomy woods in the very +middle of the night. Why wouldn't the robin let Aria come too? I suppose +it _had_ to be a rather dreadful thing to do, to make up for that cruel +boy's wickedness. Oh dear, oh dear!" + +But as she ran on as fast as her feet would take her, some things grew +clearer. She must make the best of it to her sister. She must conceal +her terrors as much as possible. + +"For supposing," she reflected, "that dear Aria really _wouldn't_ let me +go and that it all came to nothing--the dreams and the feathers and this +wonderful talking robin, how could I ever get over it? We should have to +be parted pretty certainly, and would not that be a thousand times more +terrible than having to face the dark forest for once? For deep down in +my heart I feel certain that I shall be taken care of. I am proud to be +chosen to break the spell and to make the forest again a happy place--a +home for the dear robins, and favoured by the fairies as it used to be +all those years ago--yes, I am proud to be the chosen one. And I know it +will lead to our getting the precious leaves to sell, as many as we +want, and _that_ means everything to us, home and comfort and the being +together. Yes, I _will_ be brave." + +So when, at some little distance from the boundary of the forest, she +caught sight in the gloaming of her sister's figure anxiously looking +out for her, she ran towards her with cheerful eagerness, calling out as +loudly as she could, "It's all right, darling. Good news--good news." + +Nevertheless, when Aria had heard the whole strange story, her face grew +very grave. + +"Linde, my sweetest," she said, "I _cannot_ let you do it. Alone in the +middle of the night, and winter close at hand! Wolves have been known to +find their way into the forest, and not only that, we ourselves have +every reason to believe there is some unhappy enchantment over the +place----" + +"Yes," Linde agreed. "That is exactly why I have been chosen--to break +the spell." + +"But," persisted poor Aria, "how do we know that the robin may not be +deceiving us? Possibly he is a witch or wizard in disguise! Possibly a +fairy, not wishing you harm, but hoping to steal you away. Fairies +always try to lure human children to live with them. Folks say it +prolongs their own spell of life if they succeed." + +Linde considered. + +"No," she said at last. "The fairies who love these woods are good and +true, I feel certain. I daresay there are different kinds of fairies, +just as there are of people. But you can feel that these ones are kind +and loving by their care for the robins. Then, remember my dreams, +sister. Our mother's godmother would not wish harm to come to us, and +so far, all her messages to us have only brought us great good, and +greater is in store for us, I am firmly convinced. Be quite happy about +it, darling. You know I am naturally rather cowardly, much less +courageous than you, yet see how cheerful I feel about it. I have no +misgivings." + +And this was true. For the time, at least, all the little girl's fears +had flown away. So Aria said no more, though from time to time during +the next few days when she glanced at her sister she could not repress a +sigh. + +"Supposing," she thought to herself, "_supposing_ I never see her again! +They might steal her away and let her come back twenty or even fifty +years hence without her knowing that more than a few hours had passed. +She would find me an old broken-down woman, if she found me at all, +which I doubt, for I could not live without her." + +As these gloomy ideas floated through her mind she was standing in the +porch of the cottage, gazing at the forest. Suddenly, a soft chirping +reached her ears, and looking up, she caught sight of a redbreast +perching on the little garden gate. He seemed to look at her, then +spread his wings and flew away, passing near her overhead. And at that +moment there came to the elder girl the same breath of the familiar +delicious perfume which had cheered Linde when she parted with the +robin, and with the same effect. From that moment Aria's misgivings left +her, and to a great extent even her anxiety. + +"Yes," she said to herself, "she must go. It is meant. It would be +useless for me to interfere." + +This happened on the very morning of the fated day. + +The weather was already almost wintry. + +"Linde," said her sister that evening, "I won't ask you to undress and +go to bed, but I will keep up a good fire here in the kitchen, so that +you shall at least start warm. And you shall have a cup of good hot soup +last thing." + +"Very well and thank you, dear," Linde replied. "I will sit here in +father's comfortable old chair till the time comes for me to go. And I +will promise to drink all the soup and to put on all my wraps, if you, +Aria, will go to bed as usual and try to sleep till I come back again. +The only thing that would make me lose courage would be to leave you +standing at the door looking after me. I may sleep myself. I daresay I +shall, if I know you are in bed. For I am certain I shall wake in good +time. As to that I have no fear." + +Rather reluctantly, Aria consented to do as Linde wished, on condition +that the little girl gave her promise to come to her at once on her +return, and to arouse her if by chance she were sleeping. + +Linde sat by the fire and listened to the ticking of the old clock, and +the occasional fall of a cinder, till her eyes grew drowsy and she +dozed. Though not conscious of being really asleep, she felt as if but a +few minutes had passed, when the clock striking--more loudly than usual, +it seemed to her--made her start. + +"One, two, three," she counted, on to eleven. + +"Yes, actually eleven," she said to herself. "I have had a nice long +sleep and I feel quite fresh, and it is time to be off." + +She drank the soup, and wrapped herself up; and after laying a large log +on the fire, there to smoulder till she came back, she softly opened the +door and stepped out, closing it again, though happily, in that peaceful +and friendly part of the world, there was no need for bars or bolts. + +A little exclamation of surprise escaped her as she glanced about her. +It was full moon--the garden and the open space between it and the +beginning of the forest were flooded with light. Somehow she had not +expected this. In fact, relying upon the mysterious guidance and help +which she felt sure would be given to her, she had not troubled herself +beforehand about how it was all to be managed, and the sisters went so +early to bed that they were often asleep before moonrise, if it were +late. + +Linde smiled to herself with pleasure and ran gaily through the garden +and along the field-path. And for some little way inside the forest her +route was quite clear. But after a while it grew darker. The trees +became more dense, and denser still she knew they would be the farther +she advanced. So she walked more slowly, looking well about her, and now +and then pressing the three precious feathers in the front of her +bodice. + +"The great thing is not to miss the little path," she kept repeating, +and after she had walked what seemed a considerable way, she began to +fear she had done so. + +Then for the first time her courage threatened to fail her, and her +heart took to beating much faster than was pleasant. She stood still. +Strange uncanny sounds seemed in the air. Wailings far off among the +trees; faint groans and stealthy rustlings as if some weird creatures +were trying to get near her, a sudden sharp screech--it was only an owl, +but that the child did not know!--and then the very curious, very thin +and minute squeal of a bat, so seldom audible to human ears. + +"Oh dear," whispered Linde. "Robin, have you tricked me? I don't know +where I am, and though it is so lonely, I seem to feel invisible +creatures all about me. Oh, robin, you didn't tell me it would be so +difficult to find the way." + +Then something touched her foot; she gave a little scream, till looking +down she perceived a point of light just in front of her, and heard a +well-known voice. + +"Foolish child," it said. "You might trust me. This is the entrance to +the path. You have only to follow me." + +"Are you carrying a lamp--a fairy lamp?" asked Linde in a tone of great +relief. "Why--I could fancy it was a glow-worm, only it is far too late +in the year." + +"You are right," said her guide. "It is a glow-worm. We take care of +them--they sleep down below all the winter. But I woke up this fellow +on purpose. He is quite comfortable on my back. Now we must make haste. +Follow me steadily till we come to the magic circle. Then you must act +for yourself--you know what to do." + +He flew forward--near enough to the ground for Linde to keep the tiny +light well in view. And to her surprise she found she could make her way +quite easily without stumbling or hesitation, and now and then a faint +whiff of scent reached her, as if to increase her confidence, though +whether it was wafted back from the redbreast's wings or upwards from +the little bunch of feathers, she could not have told. + +And at last--for, after all, making your way in the dark is very +monotonous work--the light stopped just in front of her, and she +realised that she was standing before the thickly growing bushes which +hedged the clearing. And before she had time to wonder how to push her +way through, the shrubs seemed to divide, as if held back by invisible +hands, and through the opening thus made, Linde caught sight of the +magic circle gleaming like silver in the moonlight. + +Her guide had vanished, but now without hesitation she ran forward, +till she reached the central spot, where the rose-bush had risen to +view, and whence she had been told she would find her way to the unknown +regions below. + +She stood still for a moment or two, somewhat dazzled by the sudden +radiance, soft and lovely though it was. Then she stooped and examined +the ground, but the smooth, even turf showed not the least sign of an +opening of any kind, such as she had half expected to see. As she stood +up again her fingers touched the front of her dress and she remembered +the feathers. + +"I am to tap with them," she reminded herself. "But not till the fairy +clock strikes twelve. Shall I ask what time it is now? No, I think it is +better to wait quietly. I am sure I am not too late, but I think it must +be nearly midnight." + +She felt curiously calm, and very wide-awake. There was not the very +slightest sound to be heard--a complete contrast to the surrounding +forest--not a rustle, not a murmur, never had Linde before realised what +utter silence could be. She almost felt as if she herself should not +move a finger, scarcely even breathe. And when in a little she became +conscious that her heart was again beating much faster than its wont, +she felt as if she must press it tightly to make it be quiet. And the +gesture once more recalled the feathers. She drew them out. + +"Best have them ready," she thought. + +Then she stood motionless. + +And suddenly, coming upwards to her, and yet sounding in the silent air +as if all around her, came the fairy chimes--one, two, three, four, for +the completed hour, and then the sweet musical deeper note, twelve times +repeated. + +Linde was all alert. + +She stooped at once and tapped three times with the three tiny feathers. + +And then what exactly happened she could not have told. She felt herself +lifted a little way and made somehow or other to sit down on what seemed +a soft cushion. It was really a thick, round sod of turf, and as soon as +she was seated on it, it began to descend--down, down, making her at +first feel rather giddy, though it moved slowly. She shut her eyes, and +the giddiness left her. Then she opened them, but all seemed darkness +for some seconds, till a faint light began to creep up, growing brighter +as her strange journey continued, and at last steadying into a pleasant +glow, not glaring or bewildering, but clear and bright, so as to show +all surrounding objects distinctly. + +Linde sprang to her feet in delight. She was in the sweetest place she +had ever dreamed of. Sweet in every sense, for it was a small garden of +the beautiful rose-bushes, like the one the robin had shown her. And the +scent was the exquisite one so familiar to her. + +She was standing at the entrance to a sort of bower, or niche, in the +midst of the fragrant bushes, and glancing into it she saw that there +was a little hillock in its centre, and on this hillock were perched +what at first seemed to her hundreds of redbreasts. In reality, I think +there were about fifty--all motionless, till from their midst flew out +one, whom by some instinct Linde recognised as her old friend. + +"Birds," he said, for, to the fairy-touched ears of the child, chirps +were words, "birds! She has come. And the time has come. Friends, bid +her welcome." + +And a lovely welcome it was which poured from the many little throats. + +"Thank you, dear robins," said Linde, feeling sure that she was expected +to say something, "thank you, dear birds. You know I love you, and I do +hope you will soon come to live in the forest again. But now please +tell me what it is you want me to do." + +There was a sudden loud flutter of wings. All the robins at the same +moment flew upwards from the hillock and perched themselves in clusters +among the rose-trees which formed the bower. Only one remained on the +hillock. Linde knew him for her guide. Beside him lay a small bright +object. It was a finely made and polished spade. + +He touched it with one of his claws. + +"Take this, Linde," he said solemnly, "and dig. But first, stroke it +with the three feathers." + +"Where am I to dig?" asked the little girl, as she obeyed him. + +"Here of course," was the reply, "here. It is the tomb of our ancestor, +where for fifty years he has lain entranced." + +Linde lifted the spade. It was beautifully light. + +"What a dear little tool it is!" she thought to herself. "I wish they +would let me keep it. It would be lovely for careful digging round the +delicate tiny roots that are so easily damaged." + +But these reflections she kept to herself, for she felt the fifty pairs +of bright eyes upon her. Just at present it was a question of doing what +she was told. + +So she stroked the spade with her tiny feather posy, and then stepped +forward close to the green mound. In her heart she felt doubtful as to +whether the toy spade would be strong enough to cut through the turf. +But as the robin flew up to a neighbouring branch, thus leaving the +coast quite clear for her operations, there was nothing for it but to +try. And to her satisfaction the blade glided through the sods almost +without any effort of hers. In fact it seemed to direct her movements, +so that in a very short time a neat round hole was made in the little +hillock, revealing a sort of nest of the well-known dried rose-leaves, +in the midst of which lay the tiny body of a--to all appearance +dead--robin redbreast. + +"Lift him," whispered her friend, evidently in the greatest excitement. + +Linde did so, carefully and almost reverently. He was a most beautiful +bird, a king of his kind. His feathers were smooth, his breast rich in +colouring, his eyes closed. There was nothing death-like or painful +about him, except--ah yes--Linde could not repress a little shiver at +the sight--a small dart or arrow transfixed the dainty body, pinning one +wing to his side, where a drop of blood told its cruel tale. + +"Draw it out," came the next command. + +"I feel as if it would hurt him," murmured Linde tremulously. But there +came a sort of trill of entreaty from the fifty watchers, and she felt +that she must obey. So mastering her own misgiving, she took firm hold +of the head of the dart, and deftly drew it out, thinking as she did so, +"It will hurt him less if I do it quickly." + +It took some little strength, but it did not break, and to her surprise +the hole it should have left, disfiguring the pretty creature, closed at +once. Then the bird gave a sudden shiver, a thrill of returning life +passed through him--Linde herself was conscious of it in her +fingers--his eyes unclosed; he looked up at her, then, with a wonderful +note of exceeding joy, he spread his wings and flew round the bower, +returning again to perch on the child's still outstretched hand, as if +in gratitude. + +[Illustration: With a wonderful note of exceeding joy, he spread his +wings and flew round the bower, returning again to perch on the child's +still outstretched hand, as if in gratitude.] + +And then--and then--oh if you could have heard the carol of delight that +burst out from the comrades of the spell-freed redbreast! It was too +beautiful to describe; nor could it be described in human language. For +after all, exquisite as may be the bird songs--nightingales' or +thrushes', blackbirds' or larks', which delight us, it cannot, I fear, +fall to our lot to hear them, as did favoured Linde, in fairyland! + +She stood enraptured till the melody subsided and there was silence +again, broken by the voice of the small master of the ceremonies. + +"It is done," he said, "and perfectly done. The spell is broken, the sad +enchantment ended. The forest is our own again. Our beloved ancestor +restored to us and to the life of which he was so cruelly deprived +before he had had his rightful share." + +"Oh the joy of it, the joy of it!" trilled the resuscitated bird, as he +fluttered from Linde's hand to her shoulder, and a chorus of sympathy +burst out again. + +But Linde's guide had not yet finished his speech. He held up one claw +and there was silence. + +"Friends," he began again. "What is to be this maiden's reward for what +she has done? Our gracious lady protector, the Queen of the Fairies, has +left it to us to decide. We must be generous as well as grateful, for +Linde deserves it of us--and remember, but for her sweet and loving +nature, not all her courage in braving alone the cold and darkness could +have succeeded. Brothers, shall we let her choose her reward?" + +A universal chirp of "Yes, yes" was the reply. + +So the speaker turned again to the little girl. + +"Linde," he said, "good Linde, you who have never been guilty of a cruel +unkind deed, Linde, you who have been brave and obedient, what do you +choose?" + +"Oh robin, dear robin," she exclaimed, "I think you must know already. +The leaves, the delicious leaves from the redbreast's roses--if we may +always have these, Aria and I will be safe and happy. I will come to +fetch them in the middle of the night or whenever you like--and," she +added, with a little smile, "_might_ I have the fairy spade too?" + +The robin held up his claw again. + +"Yes, yes," came the answer in bird language, followed by some chirps +which Linde's ears were not yet "fairy-wise" enough to translate. + +"Your requests are granted," said the president. "You may keep the +spade," for it was still lying beside her. "Small as it is, it is +endowed with magic power. If you keep it bright and clean it will do +good work in your garden. And my friends and relations, headed by our +revered ancestor," he waved his claw, and the kingly robin fluttered to +Linde's head, where he gave an approving chirp, replied to by the +audience, "desire me to say that it will not be necessary for you to +fetch the leaves. You will only require to place the old jar on the +window-sill overnight whenever it needs replenishing, laying the three +feathers inside it; and in the morning it will be filled as you wish." + +"Thank you, thank you," cried Linde again, "and now, dear robins, I must +hurry home. I shall never forget this lovely place. May I never come +again?" + +Her guide answered rather sadly. + +"I fear not. Few, very few, mortals have come even as far as an entrance +to fairyland. Nor could you ever find this spot again, try as you might. +But we--we robins, will often see you in the forest, no longer forbidden +ground." + +"Yes, that is true," Linde replied cheerfully. "Then good-night--not +good-bye, to you all, and please tell me how I am to get up again to the +clearing, so as to run home to relieve Aria's anxiety and tell her the +good news." + +"That _we_ will manage," said her first friend. "Birds!" + +There was an answering flutter. + +"Seat yourself comfortably, my child, and close your eyes." + +Linde obeyed, but not before seeing and feeling that all the assembled +robins were flying down and surrounding her, so that with the velvety +softness of the grassy sod and the fluffy feeling of the feathered +creatures encircling her, she seemed in a cosy nest, and already +somewhat sleepy. Then a slight touch on the top of her head made her +start a little. + +"It is only we two," chirped her guide, "I and the noble bird who owes +his life to you. We are here to direct the air voyage. Rest, my child, +rest and be at peace." + +Linde did not know that she fell asleep, though afterwards she knew it +must have been so. She felt herself rising, rising--then a breath of +colder air met her face, and--that was all she knew, till--she awoke, +and found herself in the porch of the cottage, and--to prove the night's +adventures had been no dream, in one hand the little spade, in the other +the three red feathers, still firmly clasped. + +She was a very practical maiden, in spite of her fairy perceptions, so +the first thing she did was to lay the small treasures safely in the old +jar, saying to herself, and "to-morrow night--no, I should say to-night, +we will place it outside on the window-sill and in the morning it will +be filled with the lovely leaves. What news, what joy to tell Aria!" + +She ran upstairs--softly--but her sister was awake. + +"Darling," she said, "are you really safely back? Yet I have not been +anxious. Somehow I felt you were all right and I have had a peaceful +sleep." + +Then Linde told her the whole wonderful story and showed her the little +spade. And at night you may be sure they did not forget to put the jar +in the appointed place, to find it in the morning replenished with +rose-leaves whose perfume seemed even more delicious than ever before. +So Saturday found them with plenty of their treasured wares for sale, +and quickly were they bought. + +Nor was this only temporary good fortune. + +The fame of their dried roses spread far and wide, and orders came from +great distances, so that the two sisters were able not only to go on +living together in greater comfort than they had ever known, but even to +lay aside savings for a possible "rainy day." + +Though as far as I could learn--this story, you know, is of a fairly +long ago "once upon a time"--that day never came to the happy girls. +The robins never failed them. The cottage garden and the neighbouring +forest grew to be famed for the peculiarly beautiful redbreasts which +there abounded. The uncanny reputation of the woods was quite forgotten, +and on the contrary it was said to bring good luck to those who often +strolled about in them. + +I think both Aria and Linde married in due time and had happy homes of +their own. One or other certainly did so, for the country-folk of that +remote part of the world, from whom I learnt the story, showed me a +specially lovely rose--"the robins' rose," it was called, and told me +that it had been cultivated by the descendants of the sisters, till, for +some reasons which I could not discover, the family had moved elsewhere. + +"And they do say," added one aged dame, "that they grew to be rich and +important, much looked up to and respected, which one can believe, if +they took after their great-grandmothers and were favoured by the 'good +people,' as those pretty maidens were." + +I suppose the old jar and the magic spade were carried away as +heirlooms, for though I looked about in some very curious antique shops +in the neighbouring town, hoping to find one or both, I never succeeded +in doing so, nor could I trace the family at all, which is scarcely to +be wondered at, as no one still living remembered the sisters save by +the quaint names of "Aria" and "Linde"--names which I love, and which I +hope this story may lead others to love also. + + + + +A Magic Table + + +Once upon a time--how long ago really does not matter--there lived in a +certain country--and where that country is, does not matter +either--three young men of about the same age. They were not brothers, +but they had always been neighbours, and they must have been some sort +of cousins, for they had an old relation whom they all called uncle and +who called them all nephews. + +"Nephew Hodge," "nephew Giles," and "nephew Michael." Those were their +names, though I fancy the last--he was the youngest--was more often +"Mike" than "Michael." + +They were all three steady, well-behaved fellows, and very friendly with +each other, which was natural as in several ways their circumstances +were curiously alike. They were all orphans, and though Hodge and Giles +had sisters, these were married and settled at a distance, and as for +Mike he had nobody at all belonging to him, and as he was a very +affectionate creature, but for his two friends he would have felt lonely +indeed. They were all poor--very poor--the one thing each had inherited +from his parents was a home, such as it was. Just a small cottage with a +bit of garden ground, which in their leisure hours each cultivated to +the best of his ability, thus growing some hardy fruit and vegetables +which helped to support them, and a few pretty flowers, to brighten +things up a bit. + +They had a little friendly rivalry over these tiny gardens. Hodge's +produced the best vegetables, Giles's the finest fruit, but young +Michael's far and away the loveliest flowers. And instead of quarrelling +as to which of them deserved the most praise as a gardener, like +sensible fellows, each gave a present to the other two of his special +triumphs. + +There was still another curious bond between the three--which in most +cases would have been the very reverse of a bond, and pretty certainly +would have dissolved the friendship. They were all in love with the same +girl. A charming girl she was, but of her, more shall be told hereafter. +Perhaps the hopelessness of their admiration for her helped to keep the +peace, for they were far too poor to aspire to her, as she was a damsel +with a dowry of gold and silver, as well as of sweet looks and sweet +character. So the three used to sit together and sing her praises with +no bitterness or jealousy. + +The cottages stood at some distance apart, half or a quarter of a mile +or so between them. So that in busy seasons, such as hay-making or +harvesting, our friends sometimes saw very little of each other for days +at a time, as they were not labourers on the same farm. But the long +dull winter evenings they made a point of spending together, taking +their cottages in turns as a meeting-place, for as to comfort, the three +dwellings were much of a muchness, though Mike's somehow always looked +the nicest, as in summer he adorned it with his flowers, and even in +winter managed to tie up bunches of pretty leaves and bright-coloured +berries to give his kitchen a cheerful air. + +And besides these friendly evenings, the three young men always met on +Sundays, and that all the year round. For on that day they had a +standing invitation to dine with the old uncle, who was, as I forgot to +say, also godfather to all three. + +This personage was in some ways very peculiar and indeed rather +mysterious. Strange stories were whispered concerning him through the +country-side. Some said that he was a wizard; nearly all agreed that, at +best, he had dealings with "the good people." But though to a certain +extent he was feared, he was not disliked, as on more than one occasion +he was known to have shown great kindness to families in distress, +though how he came to hear so quickly of other folks' troubles remained +a mystery, as he lived at a considerable distance from any other +dwelling, and was too infirm ever to leave his own cottage. + +He was of course reputed to be very rich, but that, as you will learn, +was a mistake. And a miser he could not well be called, considering the +kind actions I have alluded to, and the steady hospitality he showed to +his godsons, Hodge, Giles, and Michael. The truth was--and there need be +no secret about it--that "Uncle Peter" had a small pension for life, +sufficient to keep him in simple comfort. For long ago he had been a +soldier and a brave one, though he seldom talked of those old days. Sad +things had happened to him, and for many years he had been a lonely man +before, just about the time these grandnephews of his were born, he +wandered back to the part of the country which had been his home as a +boy, there, like Rip Van Winkle, to find none of his generation left, +though he made friends in his own way with the remaining members of his +family and their children. + +Peter had travelled far and had seen queer places and queer people and +had learnt some queer things. It was no great wonder that he got the +name of being something of a wizard, for there was no doubt that he knew +of things happening or going to happen in ways that could not be +explained. But notwithstanding this, he was not regarded with fear, only +with a kind of respectful awe. Even his godsons felt this, though at the +same time they were really attached to him and grateful for his +hospitality, in itself of a very strange character. For though he was +never known to buy food of any sort, and was supposed to live entirely +upon the fruit and vegetables he himself grew, and though he had no one +to cook for him and no fireplace or stove where anything but the very +simplest things could be boiled or roasted or even heated, the weekly +dinner provided for his three guests, every Sunday, was of the very +best. Not only was the food of excellent quality, it was also abundant. +Indeed, at times when work was short, as in the winter often is the +case, both for artisans in towns and for labourers in the country, I +doubt if the three cousins would have kept as well and hearty as they +did but for this substantial and nourishing meal regularly once a week. + +They had often wondered how Uncle Peter managed it, and once or twice +they had hazarded a tactful enquiry of their host on the subject. But it +had served no purpose. On the contrary, both Hodge and Giles, who had +been the questioners, had been quickly silenced by the old man's reply. + +"Did you never hear the proverb about not looking a gift horse in the +mouth?" he said the first time. "True, there is nothing about my dishes +which you are not free to test if you choose, both as to quality and +cooking. All the same, I think the saying conveys a broad hint as to the +courtesy suited to those who accept a gift." + +And to Giles he was even more severe. + +"When you invite me to a Sunday feast, my good nephew," he said, "I +promise to eat thereof with gratitude, and with no curiosity as to +whence or how you procured it," at which reprimand Giles looked very +foolish, and could only humbly ask Peter's pardon, adding, "That day, I +misdoubt me, my respected uncle, will never dawn." + +For, as I have already said, the three young men were very poor. + +Still, when they were sitting of an evening by themselves, with no fear +of offending the old man by their talk, it was only natural that they +should discuss the mystery. There was a peculiar rule about their Sunday +visit. They were obliged to be exceedingly punctual, by which I mean, +neither too early nor too late. Half an hour after noon was the +appointed time, so they arranged to meet at church, and when the service +was over to wait in the porch till the ancient clock struck twelve, as +they found that by then starting at once for Peter's cottage and walking +rather quickly they reached it just a minute or two before the dinner +hour. + +Often, when waiting thus at the church door, they would receive a smile +and a nod from the girl they all adored--pretty Ysenda--and now and then +she would even stop a moment and say to whichever of the three happened +to be nearest at hand, "My love to Uncle Peter, and a pleasant visit to +him." Not that he was her uncle or any relation, but she had got into +the habit of going to see him sometimes out of pity for his loneliness, +and the old man had taken a great fancy to her. In fact she was the only +visitor he ever received, with of course the exception of the nephews on +Sunday. + +Once--some time ago it was, when the custom had first begun--Michael had +by accident arrived at Peter's cottage some minutes before the others. +He was on the point of knocking at the door when something stopped him. +He afterwards declared that he did not know what. But standing there, he +heard sounds within--curious sounds--his uncle's voice, slow and solemn +as if reciting something, then a very delicate tinkle as of a tiny bell, +and lastly a whirring sound as of wheels moving quickly, and then +complete silence. And while he was debating as to whether he should +knock or not, to his relief he heard his cousins' footsteps approaching. +He turned back a little way to meet them, but before he had time to tell +them what he had heard, the door opened and their host stood there +bidding them welcome. + +Ever after that they all three came together as I have told you, and +waited at a little distance till their uncle made his appearance. For +Michael confided to his cousins that there had been something uncanny +about the mysterious sounds. Furthermore he felt instinctively that he +had not been meant to overhear them, and that if Peter knew of it he +might have been angry, and possibly would never have invited them again. + +Hence, Michael, of the three, was the most careful as to what he said to +the old man, and never did he venture to show any curiosity on the +subject of the whence or how of the mysterious feast. + +But now and then he had a queer feeling that pretty Ysenda +_knew_--what?--he could not define it, more clearly than by suspecting +that she was in old Peter's confidence in a way that he and his friends +were not. + +And one evening--it was a Saturday--when the three were sitting together +in his cottage, he expressed something of the kind to Hodge and Giles. +They were very much surprised. + +"She is a good, true-hearted maiden," he added. "I don't for a moment +mean that she has any selfish motives for her attentions to our +godfather." + +"That's to say you don't suspect her of trying to supplant us in his +favour, as to inheriting whatever he has to leave?" said Hodge. There +was some suspicion in his tone, much as he admired Ysenda. + +"One never knows," added Giles. "_She_ may have no thought of the +kind--why should she? She is rich already--all the same, Uncle Peter may +make her his heir, without her being to blame." + +"I think it most unlikely," replied Michael. "No such idea was in my +mind. Besides," he went on, growing rather indignant, "Ysenda is just +the girl to put a stop to anything unfair. She is as kind and generous +as a woman can be. We all know of her goodness in any case of poverty or +distress that she hears of. No, all I meant was that she may know +something of Uncle Peter's dealings with the 'good people'; she is just +the sort of sweet maiden that the fairies love." + +"Maybe," said Giles, who was not very ready to believe in anything he +could not see with his own eyes, "maybe she herself is the only fairy in +the matter. Maybe _she_ provides the feast." + +"Impossible," said Hodge and Mike, and so it was. + +"Anyway," persisted Giles, "I daresay it's she who tells him of the +misfortunes and accidents he gets to know of so quickly." + +"On the contrary," replied Michael, "she has told me herself that it has +often been Uncle Peter who has been _her_ informant in such matters, and +that he has employed her to carry assistance to the sufferers. There +was that great fire last winter at Olden Wood. She happened to see him +the very same morning while it was still blazing, five miles off, and no +one hereabouts knew of it! And the letter from over the sea telling of +Widow Martha's son's death, reducing her to poverty, for he'd been a +good son, always sending her money. _Why_," Mike went on very solemnly, +"_he knew what was in that letter_ before it had reached Martha's +hands!" + +There was no reply to this. Even Giles was much impressed, and all three +started when just at that moment there came a tap at the door, for it +was getting late, and being far on in the autumn the evening grew dark +very early. + +The cousins looked at each other half timorously, for even the bravest +of men--and they were by no means cowards--may be momentarily frightened +by anything uncanny. + +The tap was repeated. + +Michael got up and opened the door cautiously. What he expected to see +he could not have said, but a witch astride on a gander, or a goblin +with scarlet ears as big as a donkey's and a long tail, would scarcely +have surprised him! + +Instead--how different!--there stood two small figures--children +evidently, and as a very plaintive little voice reached him, he threw +open the door more widely, so that the light from within fell on the +new-comers, and he perceived that they were a boy and girl, apparently +about twelve or fourteen years old, poorly though decently clad, each +carrying a bundle, and with pale, travel-tired faces. + +"Please," said the voice--it was the boy's, the elder of the two--"oh +please can you tell me if Dame Martha Swann lives here or near here?" + +Michael started again. It was of this very dame he had just been +speaking. Were these two of the "good people" in disguise, come to visit +him for some mysterious reason? He took care to answer very politely. + +"Not here, but not so very far off," he replied, and the gentleness of +his tone encouraged the child to ask further. "Then can you show us the +road there? We are dreadfully tired--at least my little sister is, and +we have lost our way somehow." + +As the boy went on speaking, Michael's misgivings left him. The two were +plainly ordinary human beings, though something in the child's voice or +accent showed that they did not belong to this part of the world. + +"Come in and rest yourselves for a while," said Mike. "Warm yourselves +too. It is a chilly evening." + +"Oh thank you," was the reply, as the two eagerly accepted his +invitation. He led them towards the fire and drew forward seats, while +Hodge and Giles, their pipes in their hands, stared in surprise. + +"Whom have we here?" exclaimed Hodge; his tone sounded suspicious, and +Giles too hung back a little. + +"How should I know?" said Michael sharply. "You see as much as I. +Whoever they are and wherever from, it's surely the least one can do to +let them rest for a few minutes. No doubt they can explain about +themselves. You were asking for old Dame Martha, my boy?" he went on. + +"Yes, yes," was the ready reply, "we are her grandchildren. My name is +Paul--Paul Swann, like father," his voice shook, "and----" + +"I'm Mattie," said the girl, speaking for the first time. "That's for +'Martha,' like granny. Oh how I wish this was her house! I'm so tired." + +"Poor little maid," said Michael kindly. "Well it's not so far to your +granny's, and I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll carry you there myself. +But first you must have a bite of bread and a drink of milk. I'll have +it ready in a minute," and he turned to the cupboard, which was almost +as bare as Mother Hubbard's, for the bread and milk were all there was +for his own breakfast! + +The children were famishing. The food disappeared in a twinkling. Then +the boy explained that they had come all across the sea to take refuge +with their grandmother in their desolation since their father's death, +for their mother had died five years ago. Some kindly disposed people +had seen them on board the ship, and given them a little money to carry +them the rest of the way on landing. But the very first night ashore +some wicked person had stolen it, so there was nothing for it but to +come on, on foot. It was really no very great distance, not more than +eight to ten miles from the seaport, but they were strangers in a +strange land, almost afraid to ask their way, and they had probably +wandered astray. This was their pitiful story. + +But already Michael's kindness had revived them, and they stood up, +eager to get to the only home they had now a chance of. The cousins +looked at each other. What was in store for the poor things? Their +grandmother, a loving soul, would welcome them no doubt, and share with +them all she had. But that "all" was really nothing. She was feeble and +crippled with rheumatism. But for old Peter and his friend Ysenda, she +would before this have risked dying of starvation. + +However--"Cheer up," said Michael, as he hoisted little Mattie on to his +shoulder, Paul loading himself with the bundles. "Cheer up. We'll be at +the good dame's in no time. Giles," he went on, for Hodge was looking +sulky and disapproving, "Giles, you might do worse than help the boy--or +at least bring a bundle of my faggots and come with us. Martha's fire +will be none too big." + +Giles started forward, half shamed into doing his part--and Hodge, who +was, after all, more stupid than bad-hearted, drew out of his pocket two +small copper coins, which he handed to Paul. + +"Tell your granny," he said, "that's to help to get you some milk for +breakfast from the farm near by her cottage." + +Paul smiled gratefully and thanked him. + +Then they set off--Hodge walking with them a part of the way, till he +reached the turning to his own home. + +The poor dame was still up--sitting by the tiny fire in her kitchen, +grudging to lose any of its welcome warmth, when Michael--leaving the +others at the door--stepped in warily with a cheerful "good evening," so +as not to terrify the lonely old woman. + +Mingled indeed were her feelings, as you can imagine. Loving delight as +she clasped the little travellers in her trembling arms, though even in +that first moment the dire misgiving seized her as to how they were to +be fed and clothed! So pathetic are often the greatest joys of the very +poor. + +But the children for the moment had no such fears. + +"Oh granny, granny," cried the little girl, "it is so sweet, so lovely +to have found you," and Paul turned away to hide the tears which he +thought himself too big a boy to give way to. + +They were near Michael's own eyes, and even Giles had a lump in his +throat as he set to work to build up the fire with the bundle of his +cousin's faggots. + +The dame looked about her anxiously. + +"My darlings, you must be hungry," she was beginning, but the little +new-comers interrupted her. + +"No, no," they said, with the quick thoughtfulness of the children of +their class, "this kind man," pointing to Michael, "gave us supper at +his house. We only want to go to bed, and it will be so beautiful to +wake in the morning and to find we are with our own granny." + +"And I have money to get some more bread and milk for breakfast," added +Paul, jingling the two coppers in his pocket, "so that will be all +right." + +With the help of the two young men, a bed was soon made up for the boy +on the old kitchen settle, as there was room for little Mattie beside +the dame. Everything in the cottage was scrupulously clean, for to have +had it otherwise would have broken Dame Martha's heart, and by the handy +way that the children moved about, tired though they were, she was +pleased to see that they had been well and carefully brought up. So for +the moment she tried to dismiss her anxiety. + +But when the cousins said good-night and set off on their way home +Michael's heart felt heavy for the little family. + +"Good Lord!" he murmured, "if only I were rich!" + +"What then?" asked Giles. "You'd be for taking the lot of them on your +shoulders, I suppose. Well, as things are, you can't do so. Of course +they must all go to the workhouse, though to-night it would have been +cruel to hint at such a thing." + +Michael said nothing, but he had some hope that this might be avoided. + +That very day--I have said it was a Saturday--a long conversation had +taken place at old Peter's between himself and his favourite Ysenda. + +She had looked in as she often did, and was startled and distressed to +find him far from well. + +"Yes," he said, in answer to her kindly enquiries, "yes, my dear young +friend, I am failing fast. You must not grieve about it--the thought of +dying is very familiar to me and far from unwelcome. But there is +something I wish to consult you about. You know my secret. You know the +only legacy I can leave behind me. It is as to this that I want to know +your opinion, for you have a good sound judgment as well as a kind +heart. To me myself the greatest pleasure would be to bequeath my magic +gift to _you_, my dear Ysenda." + +But the girl, as he had in his heart expected, shook her head. + +"No, dear Peter," she replied. "There are those nearer to you than I, +and more in need of help. Besides--I know the secret; the fulfilling its +conditions would therefore be no test of my deserving its benefits. Nor +do I stand in want of them. No--dear friend--if, as you kindly say, you +consider my advice worth attending to, I would propose this. Bequeath +the enchanted table to whichever of your three nephews discovers the +inner spell which governs it. In this there will be nothing unfair. You +can teach them the magic words, and then inform them that the further +secret must be sought and found by themselves--or by himself. Hodge is +the eldest--let him have the first trial, then Giles, and lastly +Michael." + +"And if--supposing Hodge succeeds?" said Peter with a rather curious +enquiry in his tone. + +Ysenda's face flushed a little. + +"Well then, it would be all right. He would continue to use his power as +it should be used." + +"And Giles?" + +"In the same way, of course," she replied. + +"But--if both failed, and Mike came to have his try at it?" + +Ysenda raised her pretty head with a gesture of pride. + +"_Then_," she replied, "it would most certainly be all right. As to +_Michael's_ good heart I have no misgiving whatever. Quite independently +of the spell, no sooner would he have it in his power to show kindness +to any one in need of it than he would be eager to do so." + +"I agree with you," said her old friend; and to himself he added, "I +suspected as much. Ah well, they are worthy of each other, and I trust +that all will prosper with them." + +Then after a moment's silence he went on again: + +"I will do as you advise, my child. To-morrow I will announce my +intention, and take the three into my confidence as far as is necessary. +Then when my own summons comes I shall feel that I have acted for the +best--fairly by all, though my own wishes are with that good young +fellow, Michael." + +Ysenda rose to go. + +"You will come again soon?" said the old man. "The sands are running out +quickly, I feel, and I am not likely to be mistaken." + +"Dear Peter," whispered the young girl, and the tears rose to her eyes. + +"Bless you, my child," laying his hand on her shoulder. Then just as she +was turning away, a curious, listening expression crept over his face. +"Yes, yes," he murmured, as if in reply to some inaudible voice, "yes." + +Ysenda felt a little frightened, and of this Peter seemed at once aware. +He patted her again. + +"Do not be alarmed," he said, with a smile. "I have no dealings with the +black arts. But certain things are communicated to me in ways that I +must not reveal. And just now--I am glad you were still here. Trouble, +or rather perplexity--for the trouble is mingled with joy--is at hand +for our good old friend Dame Martha. Will you go to see her to-morrow, +Ysenda, and learn about it?" + +"I was already intending to enquire how she is," said the girl. "I will +certainly not fail to see her, and I will do all I can to help her, you +may be sure." + +"Of that I have no doubt," said Peter. "Good-night, my child." + +Many things passed through Ysenda's mind as she walked slowly home. She +had no mother, and her father, though devoted to her, his only child, +was a hard man. He thought her fanciful and romantic, as she had on +several occasions refused to marry to please him. For his great idea was +that her husband should be a wealthy man. + +"He must at least show on his side as handsome a sum as will be the +dowry I give you," he had often repeated. But so far, none of the +suitors that in this respect were approved of by the father had found +favour in his daughter's eyes, so that he began to think the girl had +determined against marrying at all, little suspecting the love that had +already crept into her sweet heart. + +"Ah, well," he thought to himself, "better live single than make a poor +choice of some pauper who would squander her fortune, though for that +matter, unless I look to it, she will be for giving it all away in +charity once the breath's out of my body. Ysenda is too 'giving' by +half." + +And with this idea, rich though he was, the father kept the girl but +slenderly supplied with money. She had to account to him for every +farthing, and only by denying herself many little things she had +naturally a right to expect, was she able to help her poorer neighbours. +And without old Peter's contributions, though in cash he had not much to +give, still less would it have been possible for her to assist those in +need. + +"How I shall miss him!" she said to herself. "For some reasons I could +wish he had bequeathed the magic table to me--to what advantage I could +have used it! But it would not have been fair or right. Oh if only +Michael wins it! Somehow----" and vague hopes began to flutter in her +heart, for that the young fellow--no less than the others, in their own +way--adored her, she could not doubt. "It might make things different," +she thought. But then she resolutely put the idea away. "No, no, I must +not dwell on it. It is almost as if I were looking forward to dear old +Peter's death. And oh, by the bye, I must not forget to go to see old +Martha Swann to-morrow. I wonder what new trouble has befallen +her--trouble mingled with joy, he said, and of course _I_ know, as no +one else knows, that Peter is in touch with the good people; the really +good fairies, they must be, for he would have no dealings with +mischievous, spiteful imps." + +Now I must tell you what happened the next day--the eventful Sunday on +which the old man felt that the time had come for his strange secret to +be revealed to his three godsons. + +They were there in good time as usual, waiting outside for the opening +of the door and their host's appearing. + +Hodge, as was his way, was very hungry and in a hurry to set to work at +the excellent dinner which no doubt awaited them. Giles too agreed with +him that under the circumstances time passed far too slowly. Michael, +who of the three had every reason for more than ordinary hunger, as he +had not tasted food since his early supper the day before, his +breakfast, as you will remember, having been otherwise disposed of--poor +Michael said nothing. His thoughts were running on the two little waifs +that he had escorted to their grandmother, and not only on them and Dame +Martha, but on kind Ysenda. For, coming out of church, she had whispered +to him that she feared their old friend was in trouble. "I am going to +her at once," she said, and ran off before the young man had time to +reply. + +"How did she know?" Michael wondered. "Perhaps through Uncle Peter's +queer ways. However, she'll look after the poor things for a day or two, +though it isn't very much that even Ysenda, bless her, can do, rich +though her father is," for the farmer's peculiarities were no secret. + +So Michael had plenty to think of, as well as of being hungry, while +standing with his cousins outside the old man's cottage. + +And after all, they were kept waiting a shorter time than usual. It +still wanted some minutes to the half-hour after noon when the door +opened and their uncle beckoned to them to enter. + +Even as they did so, they felt that things were not quite the same as on +former occasions. To begin with, the dinner was not ready; far from it, +the table was not even to be seen! + +Hodge's face fell, so did Giles's, as the same misgiving seized them. + +"Supposing he's not going to give us any dinner at all," they thought. +"Maybe he's been too feeble to see to it." + +For a glance showed them that their host had sadly changed, even in a +week. His face was as white as his hair, and as he sank into his old +armchair he almost looked as if he was going to faint. Michael sprang +forward. + +"Dear uncle," he cried, and you may be sure that the fear of losing his +dinner had no place in his thoughts, "dear uncle, you are +ill--suffering. Will you let me run for the doctor?" + +But even as the young man spoke, a little colour returned to Peter's +cheeks and he smiled. + +"No, no, my boy," he said, and his voice was very gentle, "no need for +doctors. I can manage for myself. It was just a turn, but I shall be +better again now for a bit, though not for long. I have been anxious to +see you all to-day, for I misdoubt me if it is not the last time----" +Michael gave a little exclamation of distress, and the other two looked +very grave. "I am very old, you know, my dear nephews, and tired. I +shall be glad to rest. But first I have something to tell you. I have no +money to leave behind me, and but few little possessions, but I have a +secret, and the time has now come for me to reveal it to you three, my +only living relations." + +He stopped for a moment and drank a little water, which seemed to revive +him. + +"The country-folk, you know, call me a wizard," he went on. +"Well--well--it does me no harm! I have learnt some strange things--I +have wandered some little way into regions where few mortals are allowed +to tread; I have had some dealings with beings of another kind of life +than ours; in some ways I have been of use to the 'good people,' as they +are called, and they to me. But such knowledge as I have acquired I can +truly declare I have only used for the advantage of my fellows. My +learning of this sort will pass away with me--I can leave behind me none +of my secrets save one, and this--this spell I am now about to reveal to +you three." + +He stopped again. The eyes of the young men were fixed upon him in +breathless eagerness. What were they about to hear? But some instinct +kept them all silent. Time enough for thanks, thought Hodge and Giles, +when they knew what there was to thank for. And as for Michael, his +curiosity was kept back by the real sorrow he felt at the idea of the +old man's approaching death. + +Peter went on again: + +"As children," he said, "I daresay you heard many of the old fairy tales +handed down for generations--tales to be found in one shape or another +all the world over, it seems to me. So it often struck me that for some +of them, at least, there must be a foundation of truth at bottom, and I +set myself to use my little knowledge of these matters to discover it. I +failed in several cases--I was wanting in certain qualifications. But as +to one so-called legend I succeeded. Do you remember the old tale of the +grateful gnome who taught his human benefactor how to make sure of a +good dinner, by using a certain spell?" + +Hodge pricked up his ears at the word "dinner." So did Giles, but though +they had some vague memory of the well-known story, they were half +afraid to say so, for fear of Peter's cross-questioning them. But +Michael answered at once, for he had always loved fairy stories, that +he remembered the one of the magic table quite distinctly. + +"Well, then," said the old man, "I am going to show you that it was +true, for the spell by which the feast was made to appear still exists. +Now, all of you, listen carefully to my words. I may repeat them thrice, +which will enable you to learn them perfectly, but after the third time +you must trust to your memory." + +Then sitting up erect on his chair, he recited, slowly and distinctly +thrice, as he had said, these words: + + "Little table, fair to see, + Magic bell now summons thee. + Spread with viands good to taste, + Fairy table, prithee haste!" + +and after a moment's silence, when he had ended the incantation, he drew +out a tiny silver bell--a mere toy of a thing--and rang it sharply. + +Then there reached the ears of the astonished guests a whirring sound as +if of invisible wheels revolving quickly. It was faint at first, but +gradually seemed to come nearer, or rather, I should say, to rise +upwards. It was of course the same sound which Michael had heard that +Sunday, when he had unwittingly approached too near the cottage before +the appointed time. And suddenly, with a sort of swing as of well-oiled +doors opening swiftly, the flooring drew apart, and before the watchers +could see how or whence it came, there stood in its accustomed place, in +the centre of the kitchen, the table they all knew so well, bearing on +its snow-white cover the tempting savoury dishes, neatly arranged and +steaming hot. Enough truly, so tempting did they look, so excellently +did they smell, to make even the least greedily disposed person's mouth +water. + +For a minute or two the young men were too astounded to speak. Then +Peter smiled. + +"Do not look so startled," he said reassuringly. "The dinner is what you +have enjoyed many and many a time, and it has been sent in the same way. +Have no misgivings. Draw round it, and make a hearty meal." + +They did so with many murmurs of surprise and admiration; and for once, +perhaps, it may be of interest to know of what the dinner consisted. At +one end was a roast capon, cooked to perfection, at the other a ham, of +so delicate a colour and flavour that it must surely have belonged to a +fairy pig! Then there were potatoes, so white and floury that I feel +convinced they must have been whisked over from Ireland, and delicious +green sprouts of the kind that I, as a child, and I daresay many other +children with me, used always to call "fairy cabbages," so exactly like +miniatures of the large ordinary kind are they. And as side dishes, +which apparently were still in fashion in the land of the gnomes or +brownies, stood fruit pies whose pastry melted in your mouth, so light +and flaky was it. And last, not least, a crystal bowl filled with cream, +which surely must have come from Devon or Cornwall, or the places which +match those in fairyland! + +And in spite of their wonder and astonishment the three guests did +justice to the feast, I assure you, for they were all very hungry. + +Their host watched them with satisfaction, though eating but little +himself. And when they had finished and turned to him, as was their +custom, to thank him for their excellent repast, he smiled kindly. + +"Now," he said, "you shall see the end of the matter." + +He rang the bell, and in a moment or two the whirring noise was heard, +the floor gently opened and the table descended, then the aperture +closed and all was as it had been when the three entered the cottage. +And again they gazed in amazement, for on former occasions they had +bidden Peter good-bye and taken leave, with the table and the remains of +the meal still standing in the kitchen. + +"Yes," said the old man. "I do not wonder at your surprise. And now I +must explain further. It is in my power to bequeath my secret to one of +you. In fact I have told a part of the spell to you all. But a part +only. There is a condition attached to its acting successfully which I +cannot and must not tell you. The very fact of my doing so would destroy +the whole. You shall each have a fair chance. You, Hodge, as the eldest +must have the first. Here is the magic bell," and he handed him the +pretty toy as he spoke. "Keep it safely, and use it as you have seen me +do, after repeating the verse I have taught you. Next Sunday at the same +hour; that is the appointed time. But--remember there is a condition +which you must fulfil; consider the matter well in your own mind; ponder +it during the next few days. If you succeed, well and good; if not, you +must pass on the bell to Giles, that he may have his chance. And if he +fails, it will be for Michael. There must be no disputes about it--to do +you justice I do not fear that there will be, for I have watched you +all, and have been pleased to see that you lived in amity, without +jealousy or ill-will. And I have treated you all with perfect fairness." + +"You have indeed," said all the three together, adding, "and we shall +not forget it. Fair play's a jewel." + +"But," said Michael anxiously, "you speak of next Sunday, dear uncle. +May we not meet here again as usual while you are still with us?" + +The old man laid his withered hand kindly on the young fellow's +shoulder. + +"I shall not be here next Sunday, my boy," he said, "and for this you +must not grieve. Now farewell to you all." + +And realising that he wished to be alone, they wrung his hand and went +quietly away. + +And before the sun sank on the following evening the old man had gone, +as he had predicted. + +The three young men all felt saddened by their loss--Michael especially, +the more so when he saw Ysenda dissolved in tears, at the simple little +funeral. How he longed to have a right to comfort her! + +Hodge and Giles, though not without good feeling and gratitude to their +old uncle, were too excited at the prospect of trying to benefit by his +strange legacy, to give very much thought to mourning him. + +"It's my turn first," said Hodge, "and I mean to succeed. But I'm not +going to talk about it. Just you, Giles, and you, Mike, leave me alone. +I have my own ideas." + +"All right," said Giles, "I'm not going to meddle." + +"And as for me," said Michael, "I've really scarce given the matter a +thought." + +Both noticed, however, that Hodge said nothing about their joining him +on Sunday at the usual hour, as they had naturally expected. The loss of +the one really good meal they had till now been sure of, was of +consequence to them, though they were not greedy. To Mike, just at +present, it mattered the most, for the poor fellow was denying himself +in every way he could, so as to help Dame Martha with her grandchildren. +Ysenda was doing her utmost, but just now her father was in a far from +amiable humour, as she had again refused to accept a wealthy suitor, and +to punish her the farmer was doling out even less money than his wont. +So several people whom this little story concerns were in rather low +spirits--Paul and Mattie less so than their elders, for though it was +all their grandmother could do to give them the plainest of food and by +no means very much of that, her love made up for her poverty, and they +were at an age when hopefulness is easy. + +Well--the days passed till came the Sunday on which Hodge was to try the +working of the spell. He was up with the dawn, and instead of going to +church as usual, spent the morning in scrubbing and scouring, till his +kitchen shone like a new pin. For this was the idea that had come to him +as the condition of success. Perfect cleanness! Peter's cottage had +always been a marvel of this; it was whispered that the brownies or some +mysterious beings of the kind acted as his housemaids, and perhaps it +was so, for feeble and stiff as he was, it seemed impossible that he +himself could have kept the boards so spotless, the stove so polished, +the few pots and pans, which were of antique copper, so shining. And for +all we know, the saying was a true one. + +Now Hodge was naturally a bit lazy, and his house by no means as well +cared for as it might have been, and knowing this, it is scarcely to be +wondered at that he hit upon this solution of the riddle. But he was not +of course absolutely certain that it was correct, and for this reason, +regardless of the probable disappointment to his companions, he let them +understand that he did not expect them to be his guests. + +"Another time I may invite them," he said to himself, "but best not +begin by making a rule of it. Besides, if I fail I don't want them to +sit here laughing at me. Not that there's much fear. The good people +can't but be pleased with the way I've scrubbed and tidied. And I don't +object to dining alone. I feel as if I could eat a whole capon to +myself, not to speak of the other toothsome things! And after dinner +I'll be glad of a rest, for working as hard as I've been doing, makes +one ache." + +He tidied up himself as well as his room, and then sat down to wait, the +little bell in his hand. Twelve o'clock, a quarter past, then the +half-hour, and at the moment, Hodge, having locked the door and closed +the shutters for fear of intrusion or interruption, began solemnly to +recite the incantation, which he had got well by heart, and as he +uttered the last words "prithee haste" he lifted the silver toy and rang +it vigorously, then sat listening with intensity. + +For a moment or two he fancied he heard the whirring sound drawing +near, but no--it was the buzzing in his head from his nervousness, for, +stolid as he was, he was strung up with mingled hopes and fears. He rang +again--no result; again he repeated the lines, half hoping he had not +been quite accurate. No--they were as he had written them down and as he +had compared them with the copies taken by his cousins. All was correct. +But--nothing happened! And Hodge, slow and unemotional though he was, +felt ready to shed tears! + +Then he remembered that he was very hungry, and there was nothing but a +crust of dry bread and a scrap of cheese in the house, and on Sundays +there was no means of getting anything else. He had to be content, +therefore, and to make the best of his scanty fare, and then he lay down +on his bed and went to sleep and slept till it was dark, consoling +himself with the thought that as he had failed there was not much chance +of either of the others succeeding, and when he awoke, being on the +whole a good-natured sort of fellow, he put his pride in his pocket and +set off for Giles's, inspired partly, I dare say, by the hope of getting +something to eat! + +He found his two cousins supping together. Their fare was not luxurious +nor abundant, but as he handed the bell to Giles and they saw his +downcast face they at once understood the state of things and invited +him to join them. He was glad enough to do so, and told them his story. + +"And now, Giles," he ended, "it's your turn. Though what you can do to +please the good people more than I did, I can't think." + +"I'll tell you where you went wrong," said Giles. "You should have +invited us too! There's something in numbers, you know--especially in +the number three. And we've always been together at the dinner. Anyway, +I now ask you two to be here next Sunday at the usual time to see me try +my luck." + +"Thank you," said Hodge rather sheepishly. + +"Thank you," repeated Michael half absently, for his thoughts were +running on other things. Ysenda's face had looked very sad in church +that morning, and he fancied that Dame Martha and her charges were +growing thinner and paler steadily. + +"I'm certain they haven't enough to eat," he thought. "Maybe Giles will +help a bit, if he succeeds," but in his heart he doubted if either Giles +or he himself would fare better than Hodge had done. + +"Yet," he said to himself, "Uncle Peter wasn't the sort to play a trick +on us. And we saw the magic with our own eyes! But I scarce dare hope +that we'll find the secret." + +Sunday--the second Sunday--arrived in due time, and the three cousins +met as arranged at Giles's cottage. Hodge was feeling of two minds. In +one way he did not want Giles to succeed when he had failed; on the +other hand, he greatly missed the excellent weekly dinner, and said to +himself that after all it would be better to enjoy it at his cousin's +than not to get it at all. + +Giles was awaiting them at his door, the little bell in his hand. + +"Come along in," he said. "Uncle Peter used to keep his guests waiting +outside till it was all ready, but as we all saw the whole of it that +last day, I don't see that I need start it all alone. It makes one a bit +shaky and nervous, you see." + +So Hodge and Mike, by no means unwillingly, followed him into the +kitchen. Hodge was as usual very hungry, and again rather excited in +hopes of a good dinner. Michael seemed depressed. He didn't care whether +he was hungry or not; he was far from sanguine as to success for either +Giles or himself; he missed his old uncle, and was rather in low +spirits all round. Still of course he had no thought of refusing to take +part in Giles's effort. + +The three seated themselves, leaving the space for the table's hoped-for +appearance. Giles held the bell in his hand, every now and then glancing +at the old clock in the corner, of which he was the happy possessor. + +"It doesn't keep such very good time," he said in a low voice, "but I +set it right this morning, so it can't be more than a moment or two +slow." + +And then they waited till the long hand approached and slightly passed +the twenty-nine minutes to the fateful half-hour. + +Giles began to recite the charm, the two others listening. He said it +quite correctly, then slowly raising the bell he rang it clearly. Utter +silence. Then--yes--the first whirring was heard, gradually growing +louder as it went on, till with the same sort of spring or swing the +floor opened and up came the table, the mysterious space closing again +at once. + +"Hurrah!" exclaimed Giles, starting up, and even Michael's heart beat +faster with excitement. But Hodge, whose one thought was his dinner, +Hodge's red face grew paler and his expression darkened. + +"Not so fast," he said; "not much hurrahing about it." And then the +others saw what his greedy eyes had at once perceived. The table was, as +ever, covered with a spotless cloth--three places were laid for, as far +as plates and knives were concerned, but on each lay a small loaf of +black or brown bread and a wedge of cheese. That was all! No end dishes, +no side ones--no centre with fruit--nothing but the plain everyday +luncheon they were used to when at work in the fields, and none too much +of it either, and as Hodge added, muttering, "not even a glass of beer"! + +The three looked at each other. Giles and Mike began to laugh, as much +at Hodge's angry disgust as at the thing itself. + +"You've not hit it off, after all," said Michael to his host. "Still, +anything's better than nothing. I vote that we eat what there is," and +he cut a slice off his loaf. The others--Hodge very gloomily--did the +same and began to eat. The provisions were good of their kind. + +"I wonder what I did wrong, or didn't do right," said Giles. "At worst, +Hodge, I've got on better than you, and next Sunday maybe Michael will +manage best of all. Surely you'll get some hot potatoes at least, Mike?" + +"I don't think I'm going to try at all," said the youngest of the +cousins. + +"It's been a mean sort of lega----" began Hodge. + +But before he finished the word, Michael stopped him. "You mustn't speak +against Uncle Peter," he said. "He did his best for us, of that I'm +sure. The spell was not of his making. He had no power over it. He +taught us all he could. Strikes me we're not _good_ enough to succeed, +somehow. Think what he was! So contented and patient, and so unselfish! +Giving away of the little he had, keeping scarce anything for himself." + +"He was always sure of a good Sunday dinner, anyway," grumbled Hodge. + +"And did he keep even that to himself?" queried Michael. + +By this time the table was cleared of the little it had offered. Giles +stood up and held out the bell. + +"We may as well send it back again," he said, ringing, as he spoke, and +in a few moments the whole had disappeared as they had seen it do that +last Sunday at old Peter's. + +Hodge walked off without speaking. Giles turned to Michael--he was still +holding the little bell. + +"Are you in earnest, Mike," he asked, "about giving up your try? If so, +what's to be done with this?" + +He waved the pretty thing in his hand as he spoke. Strange to say, it +gave out no sound. The cousins looked at it curiously. The queer +incident impressed them afresh, and Michael hesitated in his reply. + +"There is no tricking of us in it," he murmured. Then he turned to +Giles. + +"You may as well give it to me," he said. "I'll think it over and let +you know before next Sunday--and Hodge too, for that matter." + +A new idea had struck him and his face brightened. He would consult +Ysenda and abide by her advice, and in the meantime he carefully hid +away the silver bell. + +For two or three days to come he had no opportunity of meeting the +farmer's pretty daughter. But one evening when he had looked in at Dame +Martha's to see how she and the orphans were getting on, he met Ysenda, +on her way thither. She was carrying a basket with what provisions she +had got leave to bring them. For she was too honest to give away +anything belonging to her father without his permission. She stopped at +once, on seeing Mike, who doffed his hat. + +"Good evening," she said, "I am----" but he interrupted her. "Let me +carry that for you. It is heavy," he began, taking hold of the handle. + +"I could wish it were heavier," she said, with a rather pitiful smile. +"I do what I can for the good dame and those dear children, but it isn't +much." + +"It's more than I do," said Michael regretfully. + +"Don't say that," she replied eagerly. "You give all you have to give. +But what irks me is the knowing I _should_ be able to do all needed for +the poor things, if only--my father----" she stopped short. "How are +they?" she went on again. "You have been there, I make sure?" + +Michael blushed. + +"They're fairly well," he said. "It was only a bundle of fire-wood, and, +and--some windfall apples I found--nothing to speak of. The +boy--Paul--has had a bit of work this week. I spoke to our master for +him, but it's a slack time of year, you see." + +Ysenda nodded. Michael had turned and was retracing his steps with her. +For a moment or two neither spoke. Then suddenly the young man looked +at her, with a grave face. + +"Ysenda," he said, "I want your advice," and he went on hurriedly to +relate to her the experiences of the last two Sundays in his cousins' +cottages. She listened attentively, but somewhat to his perplexity she +seemed in no way surprised or discouraged by his story, for when he +ended by saying, "Don't you think I'd best give it up? It doesn't seem +meant for the like of us. Uncle Peter didn't understand maybe that we're +not the same as him--we're too thick-skulled and dull, and not full of +benevolence and charity as he was. The good people don't care to bestow +their benefits on common rough fellows like us," she replied quietly: + +"No, Michael, I don't agree with you. You've got wrong notions. There's +a condition attached to the spell, which must be discovered by yourself. +Uncle Peter told you this plainly. He said nothing about success +depending on your being very clever, or learned in the ways he was, and +he knew none of you were. He knew the condition was one quite possible +for you to fulfil, but it had to be your own doing. Well--Hodge and +Giles have failed--Giles less than Hodge----" + +"Because he wasn't such a selfish pig as Hodge," Michael interrupted, +"still----" + +Ysenda smiled. + +"Still," she went on, "a meal of bread and cheese isn't worth the +trouble. I agree with you. But I don't see why _you_ should not succeed, +though the others have failed." + +"I don't know why I _should_!" exclaimed he. "I can think of nothing new +to try, and it worries me. I keep dreaming about it night and day, till +I want to throw it over and have done with it. I had a plan----" but he +hesitated. + +"Tell me your plan," she urged. + +"It was this. I thought maybe Hodge and Giles would forget the right +words or miss the time or do something stupid that I could see and guard +against when my turn came, and if so I had planned how I'd invite the +poor dame and her children to the Sunday feast--I'd have just bid them +come a few minutes before the time, the way uncle did with us--and when +I'd got it all ready--steaming hot and all beautiful and tempting, I'd +throw open the door and show them in. My! just to think of it," and his +blue eyes danced with pleasure. + +So did Ysenda's pretty grey ones, but she kept her self-control. + +"Well," she said gently, "why shouldn't you carry out your plan?" + +"Ysenda!" exclaimed Michael, "how could I risk it after the failure of +the others? Supposing I had as good luck as Giles--and how can I be sure +of even that?--a nice feast it would be to invite the poor things to--a +lump of bread and a wedge of cheese! I'd be ashamed past words." + +"You'd have a nice, dainty table, and no doubt, if the good people knew +how many guests you'd asked, they'd lay places for them all, as has +always been the case so far as I understand," said Ysenda. "I'll tell +you what I'd do--I'll help you all I can--let's have some simple fare +ready to fall back upon if need be. I'm sure I can manage a joint of +cold meat and some potatoes, which you can roast in readiness. Then when +you invite Dame Martha and the children just say it's really to take +'pot-luck' with you, so they won't expect over much." + +Michael's face brightened. + +"Thank you, Ysenda," he said, "thank you a thousand times. You've +cheered me greatly, and made me think I'd be a coward not to take my +chance. So I'll do as you say. Maybe I can get some vegetables or fruit +to help out the dinner. And I'll just invite them in an off-hand sort of +way, as you advise. A case of 'pot-luck' it certainly will be, if there +never was one before!" and he laughed quite heartily. + +That very evening he invited the dame and her grandchildren, and the +first time he met Hodge and Giles he told them of these expected guests. +Hodge was rather scornful about it, but Giles was more cheery. + +"There's something in numbers," he maintained, "and three's a lucky one. +You're the third to try, and you've invited three, besides us three +ourselves. And--" he added, slapping his cousin on the shoulder as he +spoke--"why yes, Mike, old fellow, fate's smiling on you and no mistake! +Sunday's the third of the month, for sure!" + +Michael's spirits rose still higher. + +"Thank you, Giles," he said. "Well, we'll know before long. And you two +mustn't fail me. If we don't meet at church, I'll depend on you soon +after twelve o'clock on Sunday. Don't be late." + +"No fear," said Giles, and Hodge, who was influenced by the others' +hopefulness, felt his mouth already watering in anticipation of the +excellent fare, echoed "no fear." + +And some quarter of an hour or so before the usual time the three were +settled in their places, Mike, bell in hand, all three pair of eyes +glancing every minute or so at the clock. Now and then Michael's strayed +to the cupboard in the corner, with a comfortable expression, for there, +thanks to Ysenda and his own precautions, there was a good piece of meat +and a few other odds and ends, sufficient for a plain though not very +choice or ample meal. + +At last--and how very slowly do the hands of a clock seem to move, if +one is watching them!--at last the long needle approached the figure +"six" at the bottom of the dial. Mike glanced at his companions. + +"Now for it," he said, and for the life of him he could not prevent his +voice shaking a little. "Here goes," and then pulling himself together +he repeated the rhyme of incantation in a firm clear voice: + + "Little table, fair to see, + Magic bell now summons thee. + Spread with viands good to taste, + Fairy table, prithee haste!" + +and after a moment's pause he lifted the silver toy and rang it +cheerily. + +Then--utter silence, save for Michael's drawing a deep breath or +two--and--oh, joy! the whirring sounds began to be heard--no mistake +about it, as they grew louder and nearer. Giles chuckled as he +whispered, "Some good honest bread and cheese, hey, Mike?" + +But he laughs best who wins! + +Michael made no reply. In another moment came the soft swing of the +invisible hinges--the floor opened, and up came the table. You could +almost have fancied that it or its burdens were laughing with pleasure, +for there was a merry clatter among the pretty china plates and +dishes--so closely were they packed, so many were they, though as the +whole finally emerged and settled down as it were, the table seemed to +grow longer, till there was ample space for its six guests. Then the +floor closed, and all was quiet. + +Not so the three cousins. + +"Hurrah in good earnest this time," cried Giles. + +"Hush, my good fellow," said Michael, though his own face was by this +time one broad smile "they'll have come, I'm sure. I must fetch them +in," and he turned towards the door. + +"Stay a moment," interrupted Hodge, who by this time was in high +spirits, busily lifting the covers and examining the viands, "stay, till +I tell you what there is for dinner. The giver of the feast should know +the fare." + +"Well, then," said Michael, "tell me quickly." + +"There's a couple of ducks," replied Hodge, "stuffed, and roasted to a +turn. How good they smell! And apple sauce and mashed potatoes, and a +plum-pudding--to be sure Christmas is not so very far off now--and a +whole pile of gingerbread snaps with whipped cream, and oranges galore, +for dessert. My word, but the brownies keep first-rate cooks and +caterers." + +Michael had opened the door before his hungry friend had left off +speaking, but he heard Hodge calling after him, "Stop, stop, I've +forgotten the pork pie. Oh, my goodness, such a beauty!" + +In another moment Michael had seized Dame Martha by the hand and was +leading her into the cottage, followed by Paul and Mattie, looking very +neat and clean in spite of their poor clothes, and in not a little +excitement at this visit to the kind young man who had been their first +friend in this strange land. + +"I hope you've not been waiting long," said Mike. + +"Oh no, thank you," the dame replied. "Just a very few minutes. We heard +the church clock strike the half-hour as we drew near." + +The door was wide open. Hodge and Giles greeted the new-comers heartily, +Hodge adding that they'd better set to at once, before the dishes got +cold. But though Dame Martha had very good manners by nature and even by +habit, for in her better days she had been a much-respected upper +servant in an excellent family, she could not restrain an exclamation of +the greatest astonishment when she caught sight of the wonderful display +of good things, and perceived their appetising odour. + +"My dear boy--Michael!" she cried. "What extravagance is this? And you +said it would be just a simple meal--'pot-luck' you called it, if I +remember right?" + +"And pot-luck it is," he replied, laughing. "There's no reason that I +know of why pot-luck shouldn't be good fare, as I hope you will find our +dinner to be." + +There is no need to tell you how the feast was enjoyed. To begin with, +it was flavoured not only with the "best sauce" of the old +proverb--hunger--but also with the excellent additions of friendliness +and gratitude and goodwill, and besides these even, there was a +mysterious feeling of graciousness and prettiness over it all, which I +am inclined to think must have been wafted with the viands from +fairyland itself. + +Never had the children had such a treat, and being modest and unselfish +and far from greedy they enjoyed it all the more, nor was there any +necessity for their grandmother to warn them not to eat too much. + +Every one had enough--indeed Hodge's appetite seemed equal to that of +two ordinary people--but yet when all had replied, "No thank you, +nothing more," to Michael's hospitable offers, the dishes looked by no +means empty, and though he made the children carry off a couple of +oranges each, for a little Sunday treat at home, the pile of fruit +scarcely appeared to have been touched. The thought did cross Michael's +head that he wished he could keep the remains of the feast in his +larder. But "No," he decided, "it would be greedy and might displease +the fairies." + +So when the dame and her grandchildren, with many and many expressions +of gratitude, took their leave--though, by the bye, I must not forget to +tell you that what brought the poor things' pleasure to the _highest_ +height was Michael's telling them that he would expect them at the same +hour and in the same way the following Sunday, "and every Sunday, so +long as my pot-luck continues to suit you," he added--well then, as soon +as the three had left he re-entered the cottage with his cousins and +carefully closing the door, rang the fairy bell for the invisible +attendants to remove the table. + +It disappeared as it had come, obediently to his summons. Then Hodge and +Giles turned to him. + +"The luck's with you, Mike, no doubt about it," they said, but without +any ill-will, it must be allowed. + +"Let's count it as belonging to us all," said hospitable Michael. "It +shall be a fixed rule that you two dine with me every Sunday, same as +to-day. And as long as the good people favour us as they've done this +time, the least _we_ can do is to let those who are less well off than +we, share in our prosperity. I've a feeling that it's what old Uncle +Peter would wish." + +"That's why you mean to have the dame and her boy and girl every +Sunday?" said Hodge. "Well, for my part I wouldn't take upon me to +object. They're nice-mannered children, and the dame's an old friend. +And there was enough and to spare." + +Giles was looking very thoughtful. + +"Yes, indeed," he exclaimed. "It's the right thing to do, and, as you +say, it's following after our kind old godfather. I say, Mike," he went +on, "maybe--I shouldn't be very surprised if that's how you've hit the +nail on the head--eh, what do you think of that?" + +Michael stared. Such an idea had never occurred to him, and indeed he +scarcely understood what Giles meant. He thought of it afterwards, +however. + +Then his cousins left him, and he began to wish he could manage to see +Ysenda to tell her the good news. + +"She'll be as pleased as I am myself," he thought, "as pleased as if the +good luck had been her own. And after all, it's thanks to her I +persevered. By the bye, I wonder what I should do with that nice piece +of meat she brought me, to fall back upon in case of need. I shouldn't +keep it--maybe she'd like me to take it to the dame. I'll just have a +look at it." + +He turned to the cupboard--it was a sort of larder with a wired opening +to the fresh air, which he had arranged himself, for he was very +neat-handed. But when he drew back the door, he started with surprise. +He could scarcely believe his eyes, and rubbed them hard to make sure he +was not dreaming! For there, neatly placed on the shelves, was not only +kind Ysenda's gift, but all the remains of the dinner--cold duck, pork +pie, plum-pudding, sauces, vegetables, fruit! almost as tempting a sight +as had been the viands on their first appearance, so daintily were they +all arranged, so clean and bright were the china and glass. + +Michael really laughed with pleasure. + +"If only I could tell Ysenda," he said aloud. + +The opportunity for so doing was coming nearer, though he knew it not. + +On their way home Dame Martha and the children met the farmer and his +daughter. Ysenda stopped to speak to them, and her father, who happened +to be in a very good humour, as he had made excellent terms for the sale +of his numerous stacks of hay, accosted the old woman kindly enough, +though he had been one of those who had called her very foolish for +accepting the charge of the penniless orphans. + +"Well, dame," he began, "and how goes the world with you?" and almost +before Ysenda heard the first words of her reply, the young girl +guessed, what indeed she was already sure of, that Michael's trial of +the magic spell had succeeded--so bright and happy looked the dame, so +bursting with joyful excitement were Paul and Mattie. + +"Oh, I am all of a tremble with thankfulness," replied Martha. "Such a +feast as we have had! Never was there a kinder host than young +Michael----" + +"And, and," interrupted the children, forgetting their shyness, "we're +to have dinner with him every Sunday--just fancy that! And see what +we've got to take home for a treat," and they held out the beautiful +oranges. + +"I _am_ pleased----" began Ysenda, but her father interrupted her. + +"Young Michael, did you say," he inquired, turning to the dame, "young +_Michael_! How comes it that he can afford to give feasts? I thought it +was all he could do to keep himself--not to speak of feasting." + +"And a real feast it was," said Martha, "roast ducks, and pies, +and----" + +"Plum-pudding, and these oranges and apples," the children went on. "And +every Sunday, sir, every Sunday it's to be the same--dinner with him." + +"Glad to hear it," said the farmer, rather shortly. + +Then with a nod of farewell, and a sweet smile from his daughter, the +two walked on. + +For a few moments neither spoke. They were near their own home by this +time. Suddenly the farmer exclaimed: + +"Queer business this seems of young Michael's. He's a steady, +hard-working fellow, but none too well-off. Maybe old Peter left him +something after all--unbeknown to any one?" + +He did not exactly ask the question of Ysenda, but he looked at her as +he spoke. He knew how very friendly she had been with the old man. She +smiled, and her pretty eyes lighted up. + +"Maybe," was all she said. + +But an hour or two later, when her father had finished smoking his +Sunday afternoon pipe, he called her. + +"Ysenda," he said,--he was sitting in the porch, for the day was mild +for the time of year,--"Ysenda, I'm thinking about that young +fellow--Michael." + +"Yes, father?" she said questioningly. + +"You know that old Thomas is leaving us." Thomas was the farmer's head +man. "He's getting past work, and he's got some tidy savings put by. He +won't be badly off. I'm not sorry. I'd like some one younger and sharper +about the place, though I'd scarce have found it in my heart to dismiss +him. But he wants to go. I've been casting about for a new man. I wonder +how Michael would do." + +"Was it what you heard this afternoon that's made you think of him?" the +girl asked, straight-forwardly. + +The farmer seemed a little taken aback. + +"Well--not exactly. But you see," he replied, "if so be that old Peter +did leave him something, well then, Peter was a wise man, a very wise +man--it shows he thought highly of the young fellow, and if he was to +come to me instead of Thomas, I'd as lief as not that he had a something +of his own. It would give him a better position over the others, you +see." + +From her father's practical point of view, Ysenda did "see"; and when he +went on to propose that they should stroll round by Michael's cottage +for their evening walk, "just to have a look at things," she made no +objection. + +"We might say we heard of his kindness to the dame, and ask about her +and how she's getting on," added the farmer. + +So Michael, sitting ruminating by the fire, was not a little surprised +when, on opening the door in answer to a knock, he was confronted by the +two visitors. + +"We thought we'd look in to--to congratulate you on your--your kindness +to our old friend and her grandchildren," the farmer began, very +amiably. "We've heard all about it from them, you must know." + +Michael's sunburnt face had grown very red, first with the delight of +seeing Ysenda, and then by the startling word "congratulate." For he +knew that the secret confided to him and his cousins would be of no +value if it were made known to others, so that Peter had trusted to them +to keep it faithfully. + +Ysenda seemed to guess his alarm, and with a smile and a whisper she +reassured him, even before her father had finished speaking. + +"It is all right," she said. "I know you have won"; and later on, she +added, "It is what Peter hoped and wished for." + +So nothing was wanting to Michael's satisfaction. He begged his visitors +to honour him by staying to supper, and when the farmer saw the good +fare so quickly and neatly laid before them, his opinion of Michael, +needless to say, rose still higher, and before he took leave of the +young man he had hinted at the proposal he was thinking of. + +This was the beginning of a happy life for Mike. He became the farmer's +right hand, and before long his son-in-law. Nor in his prosperity did +Michael ever forget his old friends. Never a Sunday passed without his +cousins and his poorer neighbours--Martha and her grandchildren--being +his guests. Never, therefore, did the "good people" fail to respond to +his summons. + +And even before Ysenda became the hostess on these occasions, she felt +that she might reveal to him the secret of the condition which in his +generosity he had unconsciously fulfilled. + +"Peter told me what it was," she said. "The magic feast is only bestowed +on him who invites as his guests those poorer than himself. But had you +known this, the charm would have been lost. Your motive was pure +kindness--free from all selfishness, therefore you succeeded where +Hodge and even Giles, good-natured though he is, failed!" + +[Illustration: "Your motive was pure kindness--free from all +selfishness, therefore you succeeded."] + +"All the same, sweetheart," said Michael, "I feel that I owe my happy +fortune to _you_, as well as to dear old Peter and to the 'good people' +themselves. May I always have a grateful heart and remember those whose +lives are less favoured than mine." + + + + +The Weather Maiden + + +Once upon a time--it does not matter if it was a long ago "once," or not +a long ago one; it does not matter what country it was in, whether far +off or near at hand--it was just a "once upon a time," somewhere and +somewhen--a little girl sat crying quietly but very sadly, all by +herself in a queer room which I will describe. But first I must tell you +that she was not crying from temper, or from having been naughty and now +being sorry, no, she was just crying because she was lonely and unloved +and in a sense friendless. And it had not always been so with her. Some +years ago--to her they seemed many, for she was only twelve, but in +reality they were but few--she had had kind parents, father and mother +both, who loved their only child very dearly, though she was not a very +pretty or "taking" little girl. She was small for her age and more +thoughtful than clever or amusing. And now that the dear ones whom she +belonged to were gone, and her only home as an orphan, and a poor +orphan, was with cousins, who, though good worthy people, had adopted +her out of duty and did not understand the shy silent child, or care to +do so, it is not to be wondered at that she grew shyer and silenter and +often seemed what she was really far from being, stupid and slow and +even sullen. + +Her new home--though "new" it no longer was to her, for it was now +nearly four years since Farmer Mac, as we will call him, had brought her +back with him from the desolate house where she had been so happy and +cared for since her birth--this new home was a large rambling old +farm-house. A busy beehive of a place, cheerful enough to its owners and +their sons, who were strong and active and hard-working from morning to +night, but to Merran a sort of incessant worry and bustle, of loud +voices and hurrying steps and noisy laughter, or noisier scolding, not +really as cross or angry as it sounded, but startling to her sensitive +nerves and childish timidity. So she grew duller and slower and thinner +and whiter, till at last those about her began to say she was in a +"dwine," and "maybe all for the best if so it were, for--" and at this, +voices were lowered--"it's plain to see the child's 'not all there.'" + +And her aunt, as she had been told to call the farmer's wife, a strong +hearty woman, who had done and meant to do her best for the little +maiden, grew tired of worrying about her, and trying to feed her up and +turn her into the sort of girl a daughter of her own would have been. +Merran did her no credit, and the mixture of shame and pity Dame Mac +came to feel about her gradually grew into a kind of constant, +half-repressed irritation. She made her work, which of course was right, +the child would have pined and "dwined" still more had she been left +alone to do nothing but creep about and dream in corners, but the worst +of it was that what Merran did, or tried to do, seldom pleased her aunt. +As often as not, after telling her to sweep or dust, the dame would +snatch the cloths or brush out of her hand, crying that she'd rather do +it all herself than see the girl's feckless ways of going about the +work. + +This had happened the day that this story begins. Merran had had an even +worse scolding than usual, and though she set her face hard and said not +a word in self-defence, when she got upstairs to the hiding-place where +first we see her, she let her tears burst out and sobbed and wept to her +heart's content. + +There was a special reason for her aunt's vexation with her that +morning. Merran had had a soaking in the rain the day before, when she +had gone out without an umbrella and with the clean, freshly starched +and ironed frock on, which should have lasted her the whole week, as +yesterday had been Monday. Now it was not only limp and draggled but on +one side a mass of mud, for in her hurry to get home the child had +slipped in the lane, always a rather watery one from the overhanging +trees and want of sun, and fallen at full length, so of course there was +nothing for it but to have the unlucky garment returned to the +wash-house six days before it was due there, and as a punishment Merran +was now arrayed in an old stuff skirt, too short for her, which she +particularly disliked, and a kind of loose jacket or bed-gown once her +aunt's, in which, it must be allowed, she did look rather a figure of +fun, something like a very shabby Dutch doll. + +"And Dirk will see me like this," she said to herself, "after the long +time he's been away. He will think me so ugly and untidy, and he's the +only person in the world who cares for me at all," and at these +thoughts her sobs redoubled. + +Dirk was the youngest of the farmer's five sons, the youngest but by no +means the favourite or the spoilt one, as a youngest is generally +supposed to be. He was not as strong or fine a fellow as his brothers; +indeed as a baby he had been so puny and delicate that his mother was +half ashamed to let him be seen for fear of its being said or hinted +that he was a changeling. There was some reason for this, as the first +few months of his life had been spent in much wailing and crying, poor +little chap. And even when he got over this stage and grew into boyhood, +his position in the family was rather a Cinderella-like one. Yet to +those who took the trouble to notice and encourage him, he quickly +showed himself to be a sweet-tempered, cheerful and intelligent child. +So by degrees things had improved for him, and now when he was expected +home from a long sea-voyage on which he had been sent to strengthen him +after growing too fast, his relations were ready to welcome him back +with heartiness. + +He was four years older than Merran, so when she first came to the farm +he was only a boy of eleven or twelve, sorry for the orphan, and in his +awkward way very kind to her. So naturally she turned to him +gratefully. But now he had been absent so long that she felt shy at the +thought of meeting him again. + +"He'll be big and strong like the others now," she said to herself; +"he'll not think me worth speaking to, looking like a beggar-girl as I +do. Oh, oh, I wish I could die! I wish it wasn't wrong to wish I could +die! I wish I could fly away somewhere, quite, quite away. Everybody +dislikes me--even the doll-woman up there in the rain-house seems to be +laughing at me, 'cos I'm so ugly and stupid." + +What she called the "rain-house" was one of those old-fashioned toy +barometers, or weather-tellers, now so seldom seen. It had been +discarded long ago, as broken and out of order, years before Merran had +come to the farm. She had never seen it except up on a high shelf in the +garret, standing among other old things, broken or chipped or useless, +and yet which Dame Mac, if ever she remembered them, had not the time to +sort or look over. Possibly too, unsentimental as she was, there were +certain objects among the "rubbish" which she had not found it in her +heart to burn or throw away. + +This, the garret, was the queer room which I said I would describe. It +was large, as it covered a good part of the first story of the +farm-house, which was a long, rather low building, and only one end of +this second floor had been plastered and boarded and turned into +habitable rooms. And these, where some of the younger sons and +farm-servants slept, had a separate staircase; the garret was approached +by a ladder-like flight of steps leading to nowhere else. So Merran had +long ago appropriated it as a place of refuge for herself when her head +ached, or her cousins had been teasing her, or her aunt scolding. She +grew to love it dearly. There were queer corners where she could hide; +there were one or two small unglazed storm-windows, in whose eaves the +swallows built, and from which she had a wide view of the country, in +its own way a beautiful part of the world, for though flat and what some +call "tame," it was well wooded--the trees in summer and autumn, even in +early spring, when the first tender greens began to shimmer and sparkle, +were a sight to be seen, so lofty and spreading were they. And not very +far off, though too far to be perceived from the lower windows, was a +silvery glimmer which Merran knew was the sea. + +She knew by heart every inch of the place and everything it contained. +She made up stories to herself about the old pieces of furniture--quaint +chairs short of a leg or two, a tumble-down chest of drawers, with a +marble top, which must, in the far past, have stood in a handsome, +perhaps in a beautiful, room; a cracked and blackened mirror or two; a +pathetic old cradle on rockers, which seemed asking for a baby to nurse. +Merran talked to and pitied them all; sometimes even she sang in her +very thin tiny voice to the cradle, "just to make it think it's not +empty," she would say to herself as a sort of excuse. + +Among the things on the shelf, nothing interested her much except the +"rain-house." She had never been able to examine it, for it was too high +up for her to reach, and there was nothing in the shape of a ladder in +the garret. Now and then she had thought of climbing up by the help of +some of the chairs, but they were all too rickety to be of any use. So +she contented herself with fancies about the queer little cottage with +its two doors, out of one of which the woman could be seen peeping--the +man never appeared, and Merran used to picture to herself that perhaps +there was a pretty fairy garden behind the house, in which he was always +busy working, while his wife kept everything neat and clean inside and +cooked the dinner, pretending that the little woman only looked out now +and then just to wish her--Merran--good-morning. + +But to-day she was too unhappy to have cheerful fancies about anything +at all, and she even felt vexed with the doll, imagining that its face +was laughing at her as she sat there crying, and as she gazed up at it +the fancy increased till she began to feel quite angry. + +"You'd cry too, if you were me," she said at last. "You are up there +quite safe and snug--nobody to scold you, or order you about. _You're_ +not forced to wear ugly dirty old clothes 'cos you got caught in the +rain--no, of course, you never come out in the rain. I wish I lived in a +country where it was always dry and clean, instead of muddy and wet." + +There was some excuse for this wish. For though it was not a hilly part +of the world--and one generally imagines that it is in mountainous +districts that the weather is the most uncertain--the country where the +farm-house, now Merran's home, stood, was extraordinarily trying in this +respect. It was very fertile, as it was well watered, but changeable +past description, quite enough to try the farmers' tempers, not to speak +of little girls'. Never, for two days together, could even the oldest +inhabitants, naturally supposed to be the most weather-wise, prophesy +with any security what was coming. Barometer after barometer proved all +but useless. I believe it was in a fit of irritation that Farmer Mac had +knocked over the old "rain-house," and broken it, because he imagined +"the pair who tell the weather" had misled him. They had not done so, as +you will hear, and it would have been better for him if he had not +treated them as he did. But of this Merran knew nothing. + +"Yes," she repeated angrily, for it seemed to her that the figure had +moved forward a little and was really looking down at her as if it were +alive, "yes," she said, "_you_ wouldn't like it, I can tell you, so you +needn't stare at me so. If only I could get up to you, I'd tell you +things that would make even you, a silly wooden doll, sorry for me." + +To her amazement, a voice replied to her. + +"Close your eyes," it said, and even if Merran had felt inclined to +disobey, I doubt if she could have done so. "Hold out your +hands--upwards," it went on, and then the child became aware that +whoever it was that spoke was somewhere above her, and again she +obeyed, stretching up her hands as far as she could reach. Then for a +third time came a command. "Spring," said the voice, "spring, high, into +the air. Yes, that is right," and as she gave the leap upwards, instead +of at once dropping down again as one naturally would, she felt her +fingers grasped, gently but firmly, and in another moment her feet +touched ground again, and the same voice now said gently, "Good girl. +Now, Merran, you may look about you." + +You may be sure she lost no time in availing herself of the permission. +But--just at first, she did not feel sure that her eyes were not somehow +or other playing her a trick. What she saw, the place where she found +herself, seemed so strange; still more so the person who, still holding +her by the hands, was looking down at her, smiling. + +"Who are you?" said Merran, drawing away a little, for she felt half +frightened. + +"Don't you know? Look at me well--you have often done so, though you +never saw me so plainly before." + +It was the same voice, and though sweet and gentle it had to be obeyed. +So Merran looked at her, and gradually she began to understand, though +vaguely. + +"Yes," she said, "I seem to know your face, and your dress, +and--and--but yet you can't be the figure in the rain-house. You are so +pretty, so very pretty, and even your dress--oh what lovely stuff it's +made of." + +And so it was. The "doll-woman," as Merran had called her, was attired +in a short, queerly spotted red skirt, with a white jacket--only painted +wood, of course, to mortal eyes--and a kind of kerchief on her head. Now +the skirt had changed into fine, rose-coloured silky stuff, beautifully +embroidered all over with tiny daisies; the hard stiff upper dress was +of snowy, delicate muslin, such as Merran had never before seen or +dreamt of; the head-gear a gauzy scarf of golden tissue; the little feet +were shod with slippers of the same lovely red as the skirt, gleaming +against the whitest and finest of stockings. + +"Oh," exclaimed Merran again, "how pretty, oh how _very_ pretty you are; +your dress too! I can't believe you're the doll-woman. I didn't think +her at all pretty, and yet----" she felt too puzzled to explain, and no +wonder, for the face still smiling at her was so very charming. Blue +eyes like forget-me-nots; cheeks like delicate blush roses; lovely +bright brown hair, some ends of which came straying out of the graceful +head-dress, and above all such a sweet and kindly expression! + +"Yet," said the fairy lady, for that this she was the little girl began +to feel sure, "yet, Merran, your idea is right. I am the same, and this +place where you are standing is what you have called the 'rain-house.' +Look about you--this is only the entrance--and then I will take you +inside and you shall see my husband, who will welcome you as I do. We +have expected you for a long time, but till you spoke to me in your +trouble I had no power to bid you come." + +Then Merran turned and gazed around her, and strange as it had seemed at +first, she began to recognise the roughened walls, the branches wreathed +round the porch with its two open doorways, even the flooring on which +she stood, painted to look like tiles. + +"Yes," she exclaimed, "it _is_ like the rain-house, as much as I could +see of it. But--" and then for the first time a new perplexity struck +her, "if it really is it," she asked, "how can I be in it? How can I be +littler even than you? Why I could have held you in my hand when I was +down in the garret, if I could have got you? Have you grown big, or +have I grown tiny?" + +The Sunshine fairy--we can call her by her name now--laughed, and oh how +pretty her laugh was! + +"My dear Merran," she said, "it doesn't matter. Perhaps, however, it is +less confusing for you to think you have grown tiny. But I needn't +puzzle you if you understand that to all intents and purposes you are in +fairyland--as much there as it is well for a mortal child to be. Your +old rain-house is one of its entrances. Come now, and you shall see +more." + +She opened a door in the back of the hut--or what seemed the back--and +led Merran through. The little girl gave a cry of pleasure. They were +standing in the prettiest room you could imagine. It was all brightness +and cosiness, the chairs and tables of white wood, the carpet like green +moss, the walls hung with soft pink silk, and above all the +"window-doors," as Merran called them to herself, opened on to--surely +the loveliest garden that ever was seen, "out of fairyland" I was going +to say, forgetting that it was, if not fairyland itself, just at the +entrance to it. It did not seem a very large garden, or rather one could +not quite tell how far it extended, for at the farther end it sloped +down rather suddenly and beyond, a great thicket of beautiful trees and +bushes gave a misty, vague appearance, through which Merran only caught +sight of gleams of sky and sunshine--almost, she fancied, of blue hills +far in the distance. + +"That must be the real fairyland," she thought. But she did not feel +much curiosity about it; the pretty room and lovely garden were too full +of delight. And as she gazed, another object attracted her. This was a +fountain in the centre of one of the velvety lawns. She had never seen a +fountain before, but she was a clever child in her own way, and she +remembered pictures which she had seen, of which the dancing silvery +drops reminded her. + +"Is that a--a waterfall?" she asked. + +The fairy lady shook her head. + +"Not exactly," she replied, "though for a little girl like you it is a +very good guess. No, it is the fountain by which we know about the rain +and showers. We send messages far and wide by its means. You could not +understand if I explained. But we work very hard. Fairy folk are not +idle, as some foolish mortals imagine. See--my husband is coming to +speak to you. He and I work together, though behind there in your world +people fancy we don't! Rain without sunshine, or sunshine without rain, +would make a sad state of things." + +"Yes, indeed," said a merry voice, and from behind the mist and dazzle +of the fountain Merran perceived a new-comer--a man with a nice brown +face, dressed something like a charming old china figure which her aunt +greatly treasured--brown velvet jacket and breeches, flowered waistcoat, +a scarlet cap on his short curls--altogether quite the right sort of +person to match the lovely Sunshine fairy. + +He doffed his cap as he came forward, Merran gazing at him in surprise. +She would much have liked to ask him how ever he managed to keep so +beautifully clean and smart if he was always working away at the water, +but she felt rather shy, and only gazed. + +"So you have come at last, little maiden," he said pleasantly. "We have +been waiting here a good while for you." + +[Illustration: "So you have come at last, little maiden."] + +Merran felt greatly astonished and puzzled. + +"Yes," said the Sunshine fairy, "our queen knows all about you. She +always cares for lonely or unhappy children more than for any others, +though they may not be aware of it. And she told us to stay here till +the time came for us to be of service to you, poor little Merran. Not +that it matters much to us where we live. Rain and I can do our work +wherever we are, and move our abode in less time than it would take you +to run downstairs." + +"I wish you would stay here always and let me come and live with you," +pleaded Merran. "Nobody cares for me down there," and she nodded towards +where she supposed the farm must be. "Couldn't you--couldn't your queen +turn me into a fairy for good? I shouldn't ever want to be a real little +girl again, and nobody would mind. They'd just think I'd got +lost--they'd never imagine I'd gone to fairyland." + +"Would nobody mind--would nobody miss you?" the Sunshine fairy asked +gently. + +Merran's eager face fell. She hesitated. + +"P'r'aps Dirk would have minded once, before he went away," she said +ruefully. "But not now--oh no--they say he's grown so fine and strong +like the others. He won't care for me any more, I'm sure. That's another +reason why I wish you'd let me stay with you and never go back to the +farm again. Aunt says I grow stupider and stupider, and uglier too, I +daresay she thinks, though she doesn't exactly say so. And just look at +me"--she held out her shabby old skirt as she spoke--"this horrid dress +is only fit for a beggar girl, and I'll have to wear it all the week, +though it wasn't my fault that I dirtied my nice clean one. The lane was +so slippery, and so muddy. It had been raining so hard." + +The Sunshine fairy smiled. + +"Yes," she said, "but you don't know what it would be like in your +country if it didn't rain a good deal." + +"I know it has to, of course," said Merran, "but if only we knew better, +everything would be easier. Uncle Mac often says there never was such +changeable weather as we have. I don't believe he'd be so cross and +surly if he wasn't always worrying about what the sky's like and what +it's going to do. And if _I_ knew, I'd take care not to go out without +an umbrella, if it was going to be wet, nor along that muddy lane." + +The Rain fairy had gone back to the fountain while Merran was speaking, +and by this time she had quite lost all feelings of shyness with the +pretty Sunshine lady. Just then the sound of the rushing water stopped +suddenly. The fairy looked up and called out. The words seemed strange, +and Merran could not understand them, nor the reply which came back. But +Sunshine turned to her. + +"You will find bright weather on your return," she said, "and I promise +you a pleasant surprise as well. So do not be low-spirited, little +Merran. You have been watched over in ways you know not of, and you may +cheer up from now." + +But it was difficult for the child to believe this all at once. + +"Oh mayn't I stay with you, dear kind fairy?" she pleaded again. "It +wouldn't matter to me how the time passed. I shouldn't be like little +Bridget, who found her friends all gone, for you see I should never want +to go back at all. Oh do let me stay. Can't you turn me into a fairy +altogether?" she repeated. "I'd be your servant or anything you like." + +Still Sunshine shook her head. + +"No, my little maiden," she replied. "What you ask is impossible. You +can never become one of us--a human child you are, a woman you must +before long become. But a happy woman you may be, and to help you to be +happy is the task that has been appointed to us. Long ago, but for love +and pity for you, the old rain-house, as you call it, would have fallen +to pieces, and we should have deserted the farm altogether, as indeed +its master deserved after his treatment of us. He has been punished for +it, however, and now by your means great and unusual good fortune may be +before him and his. And this I will now explain to you, but on one +condition." + +Merran felt a little frightened. + +"Is it something very difficult that I have to do?" she asked timidly. + +The Sunshine lady shook her head. + +"No, indeed," she replied. "It is simply to keep carefully two gifts +which we have prepared for you, and to use them as I will describe. +But--there is the condition." + +"What is it?" said Merran eagerly. "I'm sure you wouldn't want me to do +anything wrong, or to promise anything I can't be sure of being able +for, so I do promise now, this very minute, even before you tell me." + +She was rewarded by a smile. + +"You do right to trust me," said the fairy. "All I bind you to is +this--to tell no one of the magic gifts, to keep your possession of them +a complete secret, until----" + +"Till when?" Merran interrupted. + +"Till you are grown up, and only then if you marry and love your husband +dearly. For I know that without complete confidence, little rifts are +sadly apt to come between even those who love each other most truly." + +"I don't think I'll ever marry," said the poor little maiden. "I'm too +ugly and stupid. But still, if ever I did, I know I'd love my husband, +'cos you see it would be so kind of him to love _me_. And then it would +be nice to tell him the secret, if it would do him good too. Oh I do +wonder what it is you're going to give me!" + +Fairy Sunshine slipped her hand into the front of her bodice and drew +out something. At the same moment the Rain brownie, or gnome--no, he was +too handsome to be a gnome--or whatever you like to call him, came +forward again, and he too was holding something. Together the pair +presented their gifts, and Merran gave a little cry of delight as she +saw what they were. One was a tiny umbrella, a real umbrella, not a sham +toy one, or a gold or silver "charm," such as ladies hang by their +watch-chains, no, a real, exquisitely made and finished umbrella of +green silk and with a beautifully carved ivory handle. + +"I have made it myself," said the Rain man. "It will never wear out and +never lose its power, unless you forget your promise." + +"And for my gift I say the same," echoed Fairy Sunshine. Hers was even +prettier, for it was a parasol, smaller of course than the umbrella, but +just as beautifully perfect--of rose-coloured gauze, lined with white, +and the handle was in the form of a daisy, of silver and enamel. + +Merran was silent with pleasure and admiration. + +"Oh thank you, thank you," she was beginning, but the fairy stopped her. +"Wait a moment," she said, "wait till you learn the real value of these +two things. They are not merely pretty toys. It would be foolish to give +them to you if they were nothing better than that. But they are much +better. We have endowed them with fairy power. See here--if you want to +know what the weather is going to be, you must test them--by yourself, +of course, and when no one can see you, for magic gifts belong to their +owner alone. You must test by trying to open them. If the umbrella +refuses to spread itself, you will know that it is not going to rain. If +so, turn to the parasol. If it opens quite widely you may count on +plenty of sunshine; if only partly, then though the day will be dry, it +will not be very bright. But you must be gentle; it would be useless to +try to force either of them, for then they would break and you would +have lost them for ever." + +Merran's eyes were gleaming with delight. + +"I will be very gentle, I promise you. Oh it will be splendid always to +know about the weather, and uncle and all of them will never again think +me stupid or useless if they find I can foretell it. It will make them +much nicer to me, won't it?" + +"Yes," replied her friend. "That is the reason of our giving you this +secret power. But I must tell you a little more. You must not only be +gentle in touch, you must have gentle feelings in your heart, otherwise +you will fail. Neither umbrella nor parasol will open if you apply to +them with any unkind feeling or wish. For instance, if the farmer or his +sons have been sharp or rough to you and you wish it _would_ rain just +to vex them, it would be no good at all for you to try to open +either--and if your aunt has been cross to you some very hot day----" + +"She often is when it is very hot," interrupted Merran. "More than when +it's cold. She gets headaches in summer." + +"Just so--then if you take hold of the parasol with a secret hope that +the sun is going to blaze away all day, without any cooling summer rain, +so that the dame will be punished for scolding you--no--it would be no +good at all! Inside your heart must be the _hope_ that the wishes of +others shall be fulfilled, whether it come to pass or not; otherwise all +the magic will be gone for the time," and at this Merran looked grave, +very grave, for she had known what it was to long for power to annoy +others. But the fairy's next words cheered her. "I don't think there is +much fear of your having those unkind feelings," she said. "I know that +you are going to be a much happier little girl than ever before, and +remember to begin with, I have promised you a pleasant surprise when you +go home to-day." + +"I wonder what it will be," thought Merran, and she felt so anxious to +know, that it took away part of her reluctance to leave the charming +"rain-house," as just then the Sunshine fairy, taking her hand, added, +"I will show you now how to find your way back." + +They were turning to enter the house again when a sudden thought struck +Merran, who was carrying her new treasures with the greatest care. + +"Where shall I hide them?" she asked anxiously. "I _am_ so afraid of any +one finding them, or taking them, and there's nowhere in the little room +where I sleep that I can lock up. Aunt comes in any time and looks all +about, to see that I keep things tidy." + +"Quite right of her," said the fairy. "I can help you to keep your +treasures in perfect safety, much more so than if you locked them up in +the strongest box that ever was made. Hold them out--one in each hand." + +Merran did so--the fairy touched them both, first the umbrella, then the +parasol, murmuring some word or words that the child could not hear. + +"Now," she said, "I have made them become invisible to all eyes but your +own, or those of the one to whom you may some day confide your secret, +as you have permission to do. See--just to prove it to you, I will for a +moment make them invisible even to yourself. Shut your eyes." + +Merran did so. + +"Open," said the Sunshine lady. + +Merran obeyed, but gave a cry of dismay. + +"They've gone, they've gone," she exclaimed, "and yet I didn't feel you +touching them." + +The fairy laughed. + +"Wink your eyes," she said. "Now look again," and there sure enough were +the magic gifts safe and sound. + +Merran laughed too. + +"So you don't need to be afraid of any one stealing them," said her +friend. + +"N-no," said the child. "But still--where had I best keep them? For you +see in my own room they might get knocked or brushed away, even without +being seen?" + +"How about the garret?" asked the fairy. "No one ever interferes with +you there--they are used to your playing there by yourself, aren't +they?" + +"Oh yes," Merran replied. "Only sometimes aunt goes up to look over +things, or dust a little. Why the other day she said she was going to +throw away the rain-house, as it was no use. I was glad she didn't, for +I have always liked seeing it. And fancy! if she had, I should never +have come up here and seen this lovely place and you, dear Sunshine +fairy, or the Rain fairy, or got your magic gifts! How dreadful to think +of!" But her friend only smiled. + +"She could not have done it," she said. "She had no power to touch it +while we were still here, while it was still one of the secret entrances +to fairyland. But as to a hiding-place for your charms," she went on. +"Have you ever peeped up at the eaves above the little storm-window +where you are so fond of sitting?" + +"Yes, often," said Merran. "There is an old swallows' nest there, but," +and she shook her head sadly, "they have quite deserted it for the last +two years. I used to love to watch them and to hear their twittering." + +"Nevertheless the old nest will serve your purpose perfectly," said the +fairy lady. "Hide your treasures in it; you can easily reach up without +any danger of falling, as there is a good stretch of flat roof outside. +And then, if by any chance you were seen there, it would only be +supposed that you were looking out of the window at the view--trying to +catch the peep of the sea, as you often do." + +"Yes, yes," replied Merran, greatly pleased. "What a good idea, and how +clever of you to think of it! How do you know so much about me and the +garret and everything, dear Sunshine fairy? I suppose you really could +see me when you were the little toy woman in the rain-house? But it +won't be easy to believe she's you! You are _so_ pretty compared with +her. Mayn't I come up here again and see you as you really are?" + +The fairy shook her head. + +"Our task here is accomplished," she said. "You will not need to puzzle +about the toy woman, and how she and I can be the same and yet not the +same. And this way into fairyland will now be closed. But when the +sunshine peeps in at your window and lights up your fair hair and puts +some colour into your cheeks, you may believe, my little maiden, that I +am kissing you. Or when some drops of rain make you start by their cool +touch, you may say to yourself that the Rain fairy is sending you his +greeting. Both of us, first one and then the other, working together. +That is how it is and should be. And now," she went on, "we will see you +safe home again," and glancing up, Merran saw that beside the lovely +lady stood the picturesque figure of the Rain fairy, with his dark but +kindly face. "Together," for once, "the pair that tell the weather." + +They turned and entered the pretty room, passing through it, however, +till at the other side, where a door led into the familiar "rain-house," +or hut, they stood still, beckoning to Merran, who had followed them in +silence, feeling excited and happy, and yet a little sad. Then each took +one of her hands--her gifts were safely nestling inside her bodice--and +whispering softly, in a sort of musical murmur, which made her close her +eyes half sleepily: + +"Farewell, little Merran, farewell. In sunshine or in rainy weather, +little maiden, fare thee well." + +And before she had time to look round or wonder what was going to happen +to her, she felt herself gently pushed over the edge of the rain-house, +like a fledgling which the parent birds are training to fly, and though +she had no wings, fly or flutter she did, down, down, till she found +herself standing safely on the floor of the old garret, just in front of +the storm-window, in her favourite nook. + +She rubbed her eyes. Was it all a dream? + +She might almost have thought so, but--feeling in her bodice for her +handkerchief, her fingers touched something, and she drew out the fairy +gifts. Yes--there they were all right, and evidently changed in size +like her own small self, for they lay in her hands in the same way as +above in the fairy house, "and up there," said Merran, "I must have been +much, much littler than I am now, for I could go in and out quite +easily." + +The thought made her glance at the high shelf where ever since she could +remember had stood the toy hut, with the woman's figure just peeping +out. But what she now saw made her start. + +The rain-house had fallen--its walls and roof were in pieces, as if a +fairy earthquake had shattered them! Merran felt half inclined to cry, +but before she had decided if she should do so or not she caught sight +of a tiny figure peering at her from behind the rubbish. It was the toy +woman, just as she had always been, dress and all, but as Merran gazed, +the stiff wooden doll seemed to melt away, giving place to the lovely +Sunshine fairy, who smiled and waved her hand as if in farewell, and the +little girl, feeling that this was indeed her last sight of the so long +unknown friends, who had watched over and cared for her, allowed some +tears to trickle down her face unchecked, while she waved and kissed her +hand in return till the pretty vision disappeared and nothing was left +to tell her that her visit had not been all a dream, except the broken +bits of painted wood and cardboard which she had called the rain-house! + +[Illustration: She caught sight of a tiny figure peering at her from +behind the rubbish.] + +No--I am wrong--there were her magic gifts! She looked at them with +delight; they seemed even more dainty and charming than when she had +first been given them, and then, remembering the Sunshine fairy's +instructions, she climbed up on her stool till she reached the top of +the small window and could touch the old nest, still there, and still +quite whole. It was a splendid hiding-place. Without any difficulty +Merran gently pushed the umbrella and parasol in, through the moss, till +she felt they were quite secure, just leaving the handles out enough for +her readily to catch hold of them whenever she needed to do so. + +Then, with a sigh of satisfaction, she sat down again in her usual +corner and thought over her wonderful adventures quietly for some +minutes. Suddenly the remembrance struck her of a hint the fairy lady +had given her, about a pleasant surprise in store for her on her return, +and full of curiosity as to what it could be Merran jumped up and made +her way across the garret and down the narrow staircase to the floor +below. + +"It can't be about Dirk's coming," she said to herself, "for I knew that +already. And--that wouldn't be a pleasant thing, for I shall be ashamed +for him to see me in this horrid old dress," and she glanced at herself +disconsolately. + +But just then she heard a voice calling her, a well-known voice, her +aunt's. + +"Merran, Merran," it said, "where are you, child? Come quick. I want +you." + +And something in the tone made the child feel that she was not going to +be scolded. It sounded much kinder than usual. + +"Aunt must be in a good humour," she thought, and indeed so it was. +Nothing makes people feel better tempered and pleased with themselves +than the consciousness of having done a kindly action. + +"I'm coming, auntie," Merran answered brightly, though in her heart she +was not without misgiving. "I hope it isn't that Dirk has arrived +already," she thought, with again the mortifying remembrance of her ugly +dress. + +The dame was standing at the foot of the staircase holding up something +for the little girl to see. It was the unfortunate frock, already washed +and ironed and looking quite pretty, for it really was a nice garment, +white with pink sprigs and flowers running over it, and a neat frill at +the neck. It was Merran's favourite frock--for everyday wear, of course, +that is to say. Her Sunday one was a cornflower blue merino, and she was +very proud of it, especially as it and indeed most of her clothes had +been made out of those left by her own young mother, so that on the +whole it was not often that the orphan child looked like a small +Cinderella. + +"Well, what do you say to this?" said her aunt with great pride, waving +the frock about to show it off the better. + +"Auntie!" cried Merran, who for a moment had been struck dumb with +delight and astonishment. "Have you really washed it and ironed it and +all, already? Oh _how_ good of you! Now I shan't be ashamed for Dirk to +see me. Oh, auntie, I don't know how to thank you." + +"Mind you don't get it dirtied again, then," said the dame, "and get +yourself tidied as quick as you can, for there's no saying how soon the +boy may be here. It was pretty tiresome, you know, for you to go and +tumble into the mud to-day of all days. But I didn't want Dirk, who's +always been so good to you, to find you looking such a little drab." + +"Of course not," said Merran. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be very +careful. It's getting to be quite a fine day now; the sun's come out, +and it's not going to rain again," she added confidently. For I should +have mentioned that before hiding away her new treasures she had tried +in vain to open the fairy umbrella, whereas the parasol spread itself +out like a flower with but the gentlest touch. + +"I hope not," said her aunt, "but there's no saying, and the master's in +a sad fix about the hay--when to start it. Never was such a place as +this for not knowing what the weather's to be. And I would like it to +look bright for Dirk when he first sees his home again, after the +beautiful countries he's been in, where the sun's always shining, so +they say. Though how things can grow without rain passes me!" + +"It says in my lesson-books at school that there's places where it rains +straight on for a good bit and then it's fine and hot for a good bit," +said Merran. + +"Maybe that's how it is," said her aunt. "Well, Dirk'll tell us all +about it and the other things he's seen. Now run off, child, and change +your frock." + +Away flew Merran, her spirits higher than for many a long day, for it +was not often that the dame talked to her so pleasantly, and as she ran +off she repeated her prophecy. "You'll see, auntie," she said. "It's not +going to rain at all to-day. It'll be lovely weather." + +And so it proved. The few clouds that had still looked somewhat +threatening, gradually dispersed; when the farmer came in he too seemed +very cheery. + +"If this weather holds on for a while, we'll do famously," he said. "A +good thing for Dirk to be back. We'll be none the worse for another pair +of strong arms, such as I hope his are by now," and almost as he spoke, +there was the sound of wheels approaching the farm-house,--for one of +the elder brothers had driven in the market-cart to meet Dirk at the +village where the coach was to drop him,--and in another minute in came +the traveller himself, eager to greet and be greeted. + +And a hearty welcome awaited him. + +He had grown and improved in every way. In fact he was no longer the +ugly duckling of the family, but bid fair in a year or two to rival his +stalwart brothers. So, naturally, of course, his parents were delighted. + +"Your uncle has done well by you, and that's a fact," said the farmer, +giving the boy a hearty slap on the shoulders. "All the same, I hope +he's not given you a liking for his way of life." + +For the uncle with whom Dirk had been seeing the world for the last year +or two, for the benefit of his health, was a sea-faring man--the +captain and owner of a small trading vessel. + +Dirk laughed, but shook his head. + +"No fear of that," he replied. "I like the sea well enough, but I don't +want to be a sailor. No, father, I'm a farmer, at least going to be one +I hope." + +"That's all right," said his father. "And there's no life to compare +with the life of the fields, to my mind. There's just one thing to +complain of, especially in these parts, and that is the uncertain +weather. No telling any day what it may change to--and none of the +glasses as I've ever come across is much good, if any. And this year's +been one of the changeablest I remember. I wonder why it's so, for we've +no hills close about. Maybe it's through being near the sea. I've half a +mind to send for a strand of seaweed and hang it in the porch, and see +what that'll tell." + +"Not much good--it changes when the weather does, but not far ahead," +said Dirk. Then a sudden idea struck him. "Mother," he went on, "long +ago there used to be an old-fashioned kind of weather-teller, up in the +garret, do you remember? And not long ago, in Holland, where uncle had +to take a cargo, I came across one just like it, and the goodwife of +the house told me it never failed them. Suppose we get out our one?" + +The dame shook her head. + +"Strange you should speak of it, Dirk," she replied. "It's many a day +since I've given it a thought, till this very afternoon--when--" and +here she gave a little smile half of apology for her own childishness, +"I went up to the garret to look out of the end window, which has such a +good view of the road, to see if the cart and you boys were in sight. +And glancing up at the shelf, I missed something I was used to see +there. It was the old toy hut with the man and the woman. It's all in +pieces--just a crumbled heap, and no man nor woman to be seen. Maybe the +cat's knocked it down." + +"Then it's no good," said Dirk, "for I don't think they make them +now--not in England, anyway.--But, mother," he continued, "I've not seen +little Merran yet. Where is she, and is she all right?" + +The dame started. + +"To be sure. I was forgetting about her," she said, "and she was here +not five minutes ago. I told her to stay--not that she needed telling +when it was to see you again, Dirk. Merran, child," she called, raising +her voice, whereupon the little girl came forward shyly from the deep +recess of the old-fashioned window where she had been partly hidden. + +"I did stay, auntie," she said. "I was only waiting for you and uncle to +see Dirk first," and as she spoke, she held out her hand to the +new-comer. He took it, but also stooped down to kiss her. "You've grown +a bit, quite a tidy bit, little Merran," he said, "and you're looking +well too--more colour in her cheeks, and so fresh and smart. Is that a +new frock she's on, eh, mother?" + +His praise went far to reward the dame for the trouble she had given +herself. She smiled, and catching Merran's eye, the smile was returned. + +"She's growing a big girl now, you see," said the aunt. "Old enough to +be always tidy, and beginning to be handy too, we'll hope." + +"Yes," said the farmer, turning from the window where he had been +standing looking out. "You can be useful in the hay-field now, child. If +I did but know what the weather's like to be to-morrow, so as to begin!" + +"Uncle," exclaimed Merran eagerly. "It's going to be fine, very fine all +to-day, and I'm almost sure all to-morrow, and I think for a lot of +days." + +Her uncle glanced at her and gave a little laugh. + +"I hope you're right, child," he said. "But how should you know? You +can't be a weather prophet at your age!" + +"I can't tell you how I know," began Merran, reddening a little, "but I +feel----" and just then Dirk broke in, and what he said was very lucky, +as, both then and afterwards, it served the good purpose of saving her +from cross-questioning about her curious power. + +"Don't be too sure of that, father," he said. "There's queer things we +can't explain, but true for all that. I've seen a good many of them at +sea, and in the far-off places I've been at. There was one old sailor +who always dreamt before we put in at any port who'd find letters and +who wouldn't, and he never was wrong. And away in the far East, as for +prophets!--my! I could tell you stories as'd seem like magic. Over here +we're thicker-headed, and maybe it's just as well. But for _nature_ +things, there needn't be much doubt but what some are far cuter than +others, and maybe Merran's one who has the weather gift." + +The little girl glanced at him gratefully, though she did not speak. In +her heart she was saying to herself, "I shouldn't wonder if the dear +Sunshine fairy hasn't put it into his head to say these things." + +As for the farmer and his wife, they were both much impressed, and when +an hour or two later the sun set in a glow of crimson and rose, the +child's pleasant augury seemed still more trustworthy. + +And the next morning proved its correctness. + +Little did any one suspect that long before the rest of the household +had begun to think of awaking, in the early summer dawn, Merran had +crept up to her garret, and there, half trembling with excitement, +though much more of hope than fear, had drawn out her magic gifts to +test them afresh. Nor was she disappointed. The parasol flew open in her +hands, almost before she touched it; the umbrella resisted every effort, +though of course she avoided any rough force. It might have been glued +or nailed together! + +"Fine!" exclaimed Merran joyfully. "Of course it's going to be fine all +day--as bright and sunshiny as any one could wish. And after to-day too, +and for some time to come I am almost certain. There's something in the +feeling of the dear things that I can't describe--I'm getting to +understand them. The parasol seems to jump at me in a sort of assuring +way that must mean even more than just for to-day, and the umbrella--you +_are_ a determined fellow, Mr. Umbrella!" + +She laughed merrily in her delight and satisfaction, and the brightness +in her face when she went downstairs to breakfast made the others smile +at her. + +Happily for us all, good spirits are quite as infectious as low ones, if +not indeed more so. + +"I'm glad I washed her frock for her yesterday," thought the dame, +taking credit to herself for the girl's pleasant looks. "Children are +easy up and easy down. Maybe I've been a bit too sharp with her now and +then." + +And Dirk thought to himself that poor little Merran had certainly +greatly improved, and even the other brothers refrained, half +unconsciously, from teasing or jeering at her, as they had too often +done. + +The farmer came in after they were all seated at table. He had been +having a good look at the sky, and his eyes fell on the small +prophetess, with approval. + +"You've been right, Merran," he said. "It does look now as if we were in +for a spell of real summer weather. And who'd have thought it this time +yesterday. If only it lasts till we get the hay in." + +"It will, uncle, it will. You'll see," said she. "Just you trust me a +bit. I'll know, I'm sure, when it's going to change." + +And strange to say, no one laughed at her or her predictions. On the +contrary, all of the family seemed impressed. Dirk's remarks the evening +before were not forgotten. + +And for some time to come Merran had no reason for misgiving. Morning +after morning the lovely fairy parasol flew open at her tiniest touch; +morning after morning the umbrella refused to yield in even the faintest +degree. So the Seaview Farm hay was mown, and dried, and stacked under +the most favourable circumstances, and more than one of the neighbouring +yeomen wished that they had been as quick about it as Mac and his sons, +though at the first start most of the wiseacres had told them they would +find it had been better to put off a while. + +And once it was all safe, there came a change. One warm bright morning, +Merran looked up at the sky silently and then turned to her uncle. + +"It's going to rain," she said. "Before night it'll be raining heavily." + +The farmer glanced in his turn at the blue, almost cloudless heavens. + +"Not a bit of it," he said. "You're out for once, child. No sign +whatever of rain. It's market-day, and I'm off. I've got a good bit of +business to see to, to-day, at the town. No, no, the weather's all +right. You'll see. I may be a trifle late, dame. Don't you be uneasy." + +"You'll take your overcoat, anyway, father," said his wife, who was not +so unbelieving in Merran's foresight as her husband. + +He replied by a hearty laugh. + +"Overcoat," he repeated. "Bless me, what are you thinking of? Overcoat +in weather like this! Why, it's as settled as can be--warm and fine, +like it's been for the last week or two. Couldn't be more settled." + +"That's a new word to use for these parts," said Dirk quietly. Merran +said nothing. The dame turned to her sons. + +"Which of you's going with father?" she said, adding in a whisper to +Dirk, who was next her at table, "You'll see to it if you go," she said, +"see that he takes his coat. Think of his rheumatism if he gets soaked." + +But Dirk shook his head, which was explained by the farmer's next +words. + +"None of 'em," he said, in reply to the goodwife's enquiry. "There's too +much to do at home just now for more than me to be spared. You've all +got your work cut out for you--eh, boys?" + +Then followed some field and crops talk, and no more was said about the +weather, and soon after Farmer Mac set off. + +Merran felt sorry and a little anxious. She knew that there would have +been no use in her saying anything more, for her uncle was one of the +most obstinate of men, but several times that day she made her way up to +the garret to test her strange barometers, half in hopes that the bad +weather would hold off till the farmer was safe home again. The first +time the result was much the same as it had been on her early morning +visit. The parasol opened slowly and refused to spread out far. The +umbrella responded to her touch as it had never before done--yet it did +not _spring_ apart, but gradually allowed itself to stretch a certain +amount. + +"That means," said Merran, "that the rain's not coming just yet," for +she was growing curiously sensitive to the shades of forecast in the +magic toys. It was almost as if they spoke to her. But the second trial, +later in the day, told of nearer approach of the change, and an hour or +two after that, when Merran's anxiety and in a sense, too, her curiosity +lured her again to her garret window, the parasol was as if glued +together, while the umbrella flew open in her hands, like a bird eager +for flight. + +Merran felt at the same time satisfied and yet distressed. + +"It shows how true they are, and that I can correctly understand them," +she said to herself. "Still I do wish poor uncle could get home safely +before the rain begins, for evidently it will be very heavy indeed. I +wish he had listened to me this morning, but I didn't like to be _too_ +certain, for if I had foretold it wrongly they'd have lost faith in me, +and I couldn't feel quite sure if it meant that the weather would change +so soon." + +But even as she reached up to restore her treasures to their +hiding-place in the deserted nest, something cold fell on her hand and +made her start. The rain had begun! + +She made her way downstairs feeling somewhat distressed, for she was by +nature affectionate and most ready to sympathise, and of late her aunt +had been so much kinder and gentler that the little maid's heart was +quite won over. + +She was standing by the window, gazing out at the fast increasing +downpour, when the dame came in. "Supper-time, Merran," she said +briskly, though there was no ill-temper in her tone. "We must be setting +the table." + +Merran turned with a little start. + +"I'm so sorry----" she was beginning, when her aunt interrupted her. +"Don't look so scared, child," she said, "I wasn't for scolding you." + +"And I wasn't forgetting about supper, auntie," replied the little girl. +"It's only that I was wishing poor uncle had got safe back before the +rain began----" + +"Why," exclaimed the dame, interrupting a second time, as she hurried to +the window, "you don't mean to say it's started already? I was so busy +in the laundry I hadn't noticed. Deary, deary," she went on, "but it is +coming down! And the master without his coat--he'll be soaked through +and through. I wish he'd listened to you, child, that I do, though I was +hoping it'd hold off till night." + +"I wish so too, auntie," said Merran. "I'd rather have been in the wrong +than that poor uncle should suffer through me being in the right." + +"I'm sure you would," said the dame heartily. Then she stood silent for +a moment or two, gazing in distress at the rain, which by this time was +indeed a case of "cats and dogs," really waterspouts. The anxious wife +sighed deeply. + +"He's in for it and no mistake," she said. "Men's that obstinate. Well, +well, all we can do is to have hot water ready and make him change his +things at once. I'll fetch some of his clothes down to air them--no, +I'll do better still, we'll light a small fire upstairs, for, summer +though it is, the evening's very chilly. And Merran, child, from now +I'll stick to you as my weather-glass. It's a wonderful gift you've got, +and we'll do well to believe in it." + +"I think so too, auntie," said Merran. "I really can foretell about it," +and her quiet tone impressed her hearers still more, for by this time +Dirk and one of his brothers had hurried in. + +Supper was an uncomfortable meal that evening. They were all anxious, +for they all remembered the father's weary weeks of rheumatic fever the +year before, and one or other of the "boys" kept running to the door to +look out, or to listen for the sound of wheels, not easy to distinguish +through the torrents of rain. And Merran was up and downstairs every few +minutes to see that the fire was all right, and the clothes safely +getting aired. And at last he came, poor man! + +He looked very white and shivery, and, to tell the truth, rather ashamed +of himself, when he came in. For besides the miserable state of +drenchedness he was in, he had to own that the discomfort was all thanks +to his obstinacy, and distrust of the little "weather prophet's" +warning. Few elderly men of any class, more especially a self-willed old +farmer like Mac, would like to allow that they had been outdone in +wisdom by a child, but on the whole Merran's uncle was more ready to +give in than might have been expected. + +"I'll listen to you next time, child," he said. "That I promise you. And +to you too, dame," turning to his wife, "for it wouldn't have been so +bad if I'd taken my thick coat. Where Merran gets her weather knowledge +from beats me," he went on, "but there it is, and that's a fact. I'm not +the only one that's been caught in the rain to-day, I can tell you. For +at market all the talk was of the fine weather lasting a good bit +longer." + +"I daresay it'll come back again," said Merran. "But I do wish the storm +had held off till you were safe home, poor uncle." + +"And so do I," said Dirk, who was busy helping the farmer to throw off +his streaming garments. "As it is, father," he added in a lower voice, +"you'll do well to keep that promise. I tell you I've seen queerish +things in my wanderings--things beyond us to explain, and there's no +doubt in my mind that little Merran has got this strange power, and +lucky for us that she has." + +The farmer looked much impressed, for since his travels Dirk had come to +be looked upon as an authority. + +"You don't think," said old Mac hesitatingly, "that there's anything +uncanny about it. I wouldn't like the maid to get called a witch, though +the days of ill-treating such are past and gone, thank Heaven." + +Dirk did not reply directly. + +"There's things we can't explain," he repeated. "There's good mysteries +and bad mysteries. But Merran's all right. I'd trust her to use her +extra sense for kindness, so she'll earn no ill-will by it." + +By this time the farmer, who was unusually meek, had been put to bed and +made to drink hot possets and all the rest of it, in hopes of warding +off another bad rheumatic attack. To some extent the treatment was +successful, but not entirely. The poor man had to keep his room for over +a fortnight, which was very trying, as harvest was by no means over. +Still, two weeks' illness is less than two months, and on the whole he +bore his troubles patiently, and one thing which made this attack of his +less wearisome both to himself and to his family than those that had +laid him up before was the great fancy he had taken to Merran--his +"weather maiden," as he had dubbed her. She proved to be an excellent +little nurse, and the farmer was never as content and patient as when +she was sitting by him, chatting cheerfully, as she was now able to do, +since she was no longer frightened of being scolded, or reading aloud +some of her favourite stories. For she was naturally far from stupid. +Every morning and evening the invalid was sure to ask her about the +weather, and, as we know, she was always ready with a forecast, which +never once proved mistaken. Every day, many times a day indeed, did she +say to herself how different her life now was from what it had been +before her wonderful visit to the old "rain-house." + +The farmer recovered; the harvest proved a good one, time passed and +winter came again, and with every season Merran's fame spread. All over +that corner of the country she came to be talked of as the "weather +maiden," her uncle's name for her, and many a farmer, many a peasant, +many a goodwife came to consult her and to hear her predictions. Her +fame spread farther indeed than among her own people. The squire's lady +never fixed the day for her summer parties or for the school children's +feast without looking in to ask little Merran's opinion. For by long +practice and delicate care in handling her magic gifts the girl came to +foretell for days beforehand which of them--umbrella or parasol, +"Rain-man" or "Sunshine fairy"--was to be in the ascendant. + +Time passed, weeks became months, months years, as is the appointed way +in this round old world of ours. From a plain, unnoticeable little girl +Merran grew into a tall sweet-faced maiden. She was not exactly pretty, +she was quiet and rather serious, but her dark eyes, though somewhat +dreamy in expression, were very charming, and the tones of her voice +were very musical. So she was not without admirers, you may be sure. +Many a man would have liked to marry her--some among them, no doubt, +influenced by the knowledge of her wonderful gift, for of course the +possession of it could not be kept a secret if she had wished, and she +was far from desiring this. On the contrary, her kind heart rejoiced +when she was able to use it for the advantage of her neighbours as well +as for the relations whom she now loved as if they were her very own, +and who on their side loved her. + +But she kept her secret, faithful to the promise she had given to the +lovely Sunshine fairy, though there were times when she longed to share +it with one in whom she could safely confide. And now and then at +intervals she had a strange feeling that Dirk suspected something, for +she sometimes caught his eyes fixed on her with a kind of veiled +enquiry, and once he said in a low voice, with a curious smile, "Little +Merran, you are not like the rest of us." + +"Are you, yourself, Dirk?" she replied. "There are things you know and +feel that the others don't--the voices in the wind, the burden of the +birds' songs, the secrets of the restless waves--oh, Dirk, if one lived +a thousand years, there would still be mysteries upon mysteries of +beautiful things to learn!" + +Then she grew shy again, for she was always quiet and timid and +wondered how she had found courage to say so much. But Dirk seemed +pleased. + +"Yes," he said, nodding his head gently. "Maybe we are a bit different +from most of those about us. You, anyway, Merran. I've seen strange +lands and beautiful places, but you--you give me the feeling that once +upon a time you must have had a glimpse of real fairyland." + +Merran grew red at this, but she made no reply. + +Only to herself she said, "I wish--I do wish I might tell him," and then +she grew still redder when the words of the Sunshine fairy returned to +her memory that only to _one_ person might she ever reveal her secret. + +"And that one will never be my fate," thought the girl sadly. "Dirk will +never care for me in _that_ way, and never could I care for any one but +him." + +Whereas on his side, Dirk said to himself that he must never hope to win +the sweet weather maiden for himself. "Why, half the young fellows in +the country-side, and old ones too, are ready to woo her if she'd let +them! They think she'd bring good luck to her husband, and so she would. +But it's not for that _I_'d care for her--it's that I love her for her +own self, luck or no luck." + +And one day--one happy day--had the Sunshine fairy whispered to him to +take courage, I wonder?--he determined to risk it, and told the maiden +his hopes and fears, and found how little reason for the latter there +had been, and the two young things, who had drawn to each other from +their first meeting, before long were married, carrying with them to a +home of their own the magic gifts, now, to Merran's delight, her +husband's as much as her own. + +Good fortune was theirs. Whatever Dirk undertook, whatever Merran +planned, prospered. And that it should be so, they deserved. For they +remained kindly and unselfish, ever ready to help others less happy than +themselves, grateful for their blessings, patient under trials, of +which, as life cannot be _always_ sunshine, they had their share. They +lived, I was told, to a good old age. What became of the fairy +treasures, I cannot say. Whether they were handed down to their +children, or whether they were whisked back to fairyland, I know not, +not any more than I know what has become of all the toy "rain-houses" +which in our grand-parents' times were so often to be seen. The world is +growing too clever for the fairies, I fear, unless perhaps, unseen and +unsuspected, they are still behind the scenes in some of the marvels +and inventions all around us. Who can say? + +And by the bye, I have heard it whispered that in a certain +out-of-the-way corner of this dear old country there lives a family +whose sons and daughters have a curious gift of "weather wisdom." Maybe +they are the descendants of our Dirk and his Merran? + + + + +The Enchanted Trunks + + +Once upon a time, on a very hot summer's day, a girl stood waiting at +the door of a small old-fashioned inn, beside a little heap of luggage. +She was quite young, about sixteen, or seventeen at the most. Her face +was sweet in expression, and would have been pretty if she had not +looked so tired and anxious. She was quite alone and seemed shy and +timid, for now and then, when some of the folk belonging to the place, +passing in and out, wished her good-day, or made any friendly remark, +she started and grew crimson even though she replied politely. And when +after a time the landlady herself came to the door and asked the girl if +she would not step inside and wait in the parlour, she answered +hesitatingly that she thought she had better stay in the porch. + +"I'm so afraid of missing the coach, or losing my seat in it," she +said. + +"No fear of that, Miss," said the comfortable-looking dame. "Your place +is engaged, no doubt." + +"Oh yes, I suppose so," the stranger replied. "My name is +O'Beirne--Clodagh O'Beirne." + +"That's all right," said the landlady; "I remember the name. The +master--that's my husband--called out to the coachman last night that he +must secure a place for you to-day. You'd written for it, no doubt?" + +"Yes, the friends I stayed the night with--I only came over from Ireland +yesterday--did so. It was their gig that brought me here just now, to +catch the coach as it passed." + +The landlady's good-humour seemed to cheer the girl a little; she began +to look less frightened. + +"You've come a long way," the older woman remarked. "Right across the +sea, I take it?" The girl nodded, and looked as if she were going to +cry. The landlady's curiosity was aroused. "And it's the first time +you've left home, I daresay, and all by yourself too. It must feel +strange-like." + +"I wasn't alone till to-day. A friend came over with me," Clodagh +replied. "And I shan't be alone long. I'm to meet a--a lady, a cousin, +and we are to travel together." + +"Ah indeed, that'll be much pleasanter for you," said her companion. + +The young girl murmured something. But to herself she was saying that +she was by no means sure of it. And after a little silence she went on, +"I don't think I'd mind travelling alone--I don't mind anything very +much now that I haven't any home--except," and she glanced at the heap +of rather heterogeneous baggage, "except for all these things. I'm so +afraid of losing half of them, and yet Biddy and I packed as neatly as +ever we could. Biddy was grandmother's maid, and she stayed with me +after dear granny died, till it was settled for me to go to live with my +cousin and travel about with her." + +"It'll be fine and amusing for you," said the landlady. + +"I--I don't know," said Clodagh. "I'm not used to travelling, and I've +not seen my cousin for a good while, and she may think me stupid." + +"But she's a young lady, I suppose?" said her questioner. + +"Not very. She's--oh, she's seven or eight years older than I, and she +wants to travel all about till she finds a place to suit her. She's like +me, except that she's rich. She's got no parents and can do as she +likes." + +Then suddenly it seemed to strike the young stranger that she was +perhaps too communicative, and she grew rather pink. "I shouldn't +perhaps----" she began, but the kind-hearted woman understood and +interrupted. "It's me, Miss, that's in fault," she said. "I shouldn't +make free to ask so many questions. But it went to my heart to see you +standing there alone, so young and half-frightened like. I had a little +daughter once--she'd have been not so much older than you if she'd +lived----" She stopped for a moment, then she went on again: "Wouldn't +you like a cup of tea now, Miss?" she said. "It's a time o' day I often +has one, for we've no lie-abeds in our house, and it's a good while +since we'd breakfast, and if you've come some distance you'll have been +up betimes, I'd daresay." + +Clodagh's face brightened. + +"It's very kind of you," she said. "I would like it uncommonly. I +couldn't eat any breakfast, I was so afraid of being too late. +But--please tell me how much it will cost. I mustn't spend anything I +can help, you see. Once I'm with Cousin Paulina, she will pay things +like that for herself and me." + +"Don't trouble your pretty head about it," said the goodwife. "We're +well-to-do, my man and me, and neither chick nor kin to come after us, +more's the pity--and--you do make me think of what my little maid would +have been by now, Missy, if you'll pardon the liberty. Now just step +inside--to my own parlour--the kettle's on the hob--you'll feel quite a +different young lady once you've had a bit of breakfast, better late +than never." + +"And you promise me I won't miss the coach," said the girl, as she +followed the kind woman into the little sitting-room behind the bar. + +"No fear, no fear," replied her hostess, and as Clodagh sat down in the +comfortable chintz-covered old armchair--the landlady's own, which she +drew forward for the unexpected guest--the girl gave a sigh of content. +"It is nice and cool in here," she said, "and I _am_ so tired already +and so thirsty. I wish I were going to stay here for a bit." + +"Indeed and I wish it too, Miss, and it's our best we'd do to make you +comfortable," said the dame, as she bustled about to make the tea, which +she fetched from the kitchen hard by, and to cut some tempting slices of +bread and butter. "But travelling's very pleasant, some folks say. +There's an old lady not far from here--that's to say, her own home +is--but she's for ever on the go. They do say as she's been all over the +world, and old as she is, she seldom rests." + +"Is she so very old?" asked Clodagh. + +"No one knows," was the mysterious reply. "My husband's mother, and +she's no chicken as you can fancy, remembers her as quite aged when she +was young. But she never seems to get no older. Some say she was +spirited away by the good folk when she was a baby and that she's got a +fairy's life--indeed there's some that will have it she's not really one +of us at all." + +Clodagh, by this time refreshed by the tea, sat up eagerly. "Oh," she +exclaimed, "I'm so glad you talk of the good folk. I thought it was only +at home--in Ireland, I mean, that people still believed in them." + +"Dear me, no," said her hostess, with a smile. "Maybe in the big towns +you never hear of them nowadays, and no wonder. They can't abide noise +and bustle and dirt. But in these parts, oh dear yes. I've heard tell of +them all _my_ life, I know, and of their tricksy ways. They can be the +best of friends, but, my word! if they take offence they can worry one's +life out." + +Clodagh was listening with all her ears. Her eyes had grown brighter, +and some colour had come into her cheeks, with the mere mention of fairy +folk, so familiar to her since her infancy. + +"Oh," she said with a little sigh, "what you say does make me wish still +more that I could stay here a few days and get rested, and you would +tell me stories, as my dear old nurse used to do." + +"That I would," said the landlady, "and indeed I wish you could stay to +hear them. Not that I've ever really come across the fairies--brownies +and pixies, they call them in some parts--myself, nor even set eyes on +one of them--unless indeed----" and here she stopped abruptly, lowering +her voice. + +"Unless what?" asked Clodagh. "Do tell me." + +"Just what I was saying a minute ago," the dame went on. "Unless that +strange old lady is one herself, as I'm more than half inclined to think +by what I've heard tell of her." + +"Then you've seen her?" questioned the girl eagerly. + +The landlady nodded. + +"Just seen her," she said. "Twice--no, I think three times, she's passed +in the coach, and I've just said a word to her at the door. Once she +asked for a glass of milk. 'Twas a very hot morning, like as it might +be to-day." + +"How I wish she might be in the coach this morning!" exclaimed the +traveller, her eyes sparkling. "It would be so interesting, and if she +knew I was Irish she might take a fancy to me, for the good people do +love the Irish!" and at the idea the girl laughed merrily for the first +time. + +"Yes," agreed the dame, "indeed she might, my pretty young lady. But +it's a long time since she's passed this way. One never knows where she +is, or how she'll travel. Now and then she'll set off in her own coach +and four, like any princess, and I've heard it whispered that she'll +sometimes disappear from her home, no one knows how." + +"Oh, a broomstick, maybe, or has she a pet gander?" laughed Clodagh. + +But the landlady looked a little frightened. + +"Hush, Missy, my dear," she whispered, "it doesn't do to----" Then she +suddenly started. "I'm afraid that's the coach," she exclaimed, "and +sorry I am to part with you, but if you're bound to go, we'd best be at +the door ready." + +Clodagh jumped up at once. + +"And thank you a thousand times," she said, "for all your kindness. +Yes, I must go. My cousin will be looking out for me. I've not seen her +for five years," she added nervously. "Wish me good luck, my kind +friend." + +"That I will," said the dame heartily. + +"You've cheered me greatly," said the girl, and in her impulsive Irish +way she held up her sweet young face for a kiss. + +The coach it was, sure enough. There was some trouble about getting +Clodagh's rather complicated belongings on to it, it was already so +piled up. But with difficulty all was at last disposed, outside and in, +and thanks to the landlady nothing was left behind. + +There were tears in the kind woman's eyes when at last it rumbled off, +her young guest of an hour waving good-bye out of the window. + +But it is Clodagh's adventures we have to follow. For a minute or two +the bustle of getting her bags and boxes settled prevented her realising +that there was already a passenger in the coach, and before looking +round she felt obliged to lean out once again in a last farewell to her +kind new friend. She was soon, however, recalled to the present. + +"Who is there?" said a voice--a rather petulant one--from the corner. +"Whatever is the matter? I was fast asleep till there was all this fuss! +Oh!--" with an exclamation, "can it be you, Clodagh O'Beirne? I had no +idea we were at Crossway Corner already?" + +"Yes, indeed," Clodagh replied, "it is I. I didn't know it was you, +Cousin Paulina. I wasn't sure, you see, if I would find you here, or if +you would only meet me at the next stage. Lady Roseley wasn't certain +from your letter which it would be." + +"Humph," murmured Mistress Paulina. "Well, after all I decided that to +avoid any mistake I'd get up for once by cock-crow, so as to start from +Stracey. I hate getting up early, and I was fast asleep as you saw. Did +Lady Roseley send some one with you, then, to see you off? You seemed to +be nodding good-byes." + +"No," said Clodagh. "That's to say only the old coachman who drove me +over and left me at the inn. I was all right. No, it was only the +landlady I was waving to. She was so kind, helping to carry out my +things," and she glanced round at the various encumbrances. The place +was certainly inconveniently crowded, and so Paulina, now wide-awake, +seemed to think, as she took it all in, and that with evident annoyance. + +"I must say, Clodagh," she remarked, "that you have a queer collection +of luggage. I hope you will get rid of some of these bags and baskets +before we start again. I don't deny that I travel with a fair amount +myself," and indeed the coach had seemed well packed inside and out, +before the younger girl's belongings had been added, "but a child like +you can't need such an amount. You'll have to learn to be a clever +traveller, my dear, if we're to get on together." + +"I'm very sorry," said Clodagh apologetically. "You see, cousin, I never +have left home before, and I didn't know how to manage. I'll do my best, +and I hope I'll soon learn, for of course I shall pack for you as well +as for myself. That I quite understand." + +"Well, yes," said Paulina. "I can't go about with you _and_ a maid. And +as things have unfortunately turned out so sadly for you, it seemed to +me you'd be better off with me than going among strangers. And on my +side, I'm sick of maids with their airs and graces and vulgarities. I +prefer to have a companion of my own class." + +"Yes, thank you," Clodagh replied. "It was a very kind thought of +yours, and I shall soon learn to manage well, I hope. To begin with, I +think we might arrange all these things better," and she stood up and +pulled about and pushed and lifted, till the narrow space looked more +orderly, Paulina from her corner now and then directing and advising. +She was a handsome young woman, with a by no means disagreeable +expression. Indeed there was often a kindly light in her bright eyes, +and gentle curves about her mouth. But she was self-willed and +quick-tempered, "spoilt" in short, though generous and well-meaning, +entirely unused to contradiction and impatient of any obstacles in the +way of her wishes or fancies. + +"Thank goodness," she ejaculated, as she settled herself down again in +her wraps, "thank goodness, we have no fellow-passengers. Now I mean to +go to sleep again, and so may you, child, if you like. We shall stop at +Oddingstowe for dinner and fresh horses, and by four o'clock we should +be at Felway, where the Marristons' carriage--and, it is to be hoped, a +cart for the luggage--is to meet us. They expect us to stay at the +Priory for two or three days. They know you will be with me." + +"Yes, thank you," replied Clodagh again, feeling mortally shy at the +prospect before her, yet not venturing to say so. + +Paulina composed herself to sleep once more, and before long, in spite +of the thoughts that crowded her mind--anxieties, hopes, and fears, as +she realised more clearly her new position as her kinswoman's +companion--Clodagh too, though a few minutes ago she would not have +believed it possible, Clodagh too dozed off. + +And she slept, as did Paulina, for some time. The stopping of the +vehicle, the cessation of the monotonous rumbling, aroused them both. + +Paulina sat up, rubbing her eyes. + +"Dear me," she exclaimed, "Oddingstowe already!" + +Clodagh looked out of the window. + +"No," she said hesitatingly. "I don't think it can be. There's no +village or houses; only a turnpike. Oh, yes," she went on, "I see what +it is. We're stopping to take up another passenger." + +"What sort of one?" her cousin demanded. "I hope to goodness it's not a +first-class one--an inside one--we are stuffed up enough already. +There's scarcely air to breathe." + +"N-no," Clodagh replied, continuing to look out. "I don't think it can +be. It's only a little old woman, quite poor, and she doesn't seem to +have any luggage. She's only carrying a hand-bag--just a sort of +reticule." + +"All right," Paulina responded, lazily settling herself again for +another nap. "All the same, I wish they wouldn't pull up in this +unnecessary way. I was so comfortably asleep. It's the only thing to do +in this tropical heat." + +Clodagh too was sitting down again, congratulating herself, more on +Paulina's account than her own, that their privacy was not to be +disturbed--when, alas, her unspoken relief proved premature. To her +astonishment, the guard approached the door, which he opened, and with a +"your pardon, ladies," to the two girls, held it civilly by the handle, +for the new-comer to enter. + +Clodagh instinctively drew back a little for her to pass. There were +four places--two and two--facing each other. Hitherto the younger girl +had been sitting beside her cousin--the opposite seat covered with their +possessions. But now she at once began to clear a space on it for +herself, for she saw at a glance that the stranger was old, and looked +fragile and delicate, and in spite of the extreme simplicity of her +attire--she wore only a clean but faded cotton of an old-fashioned +flowery pattern, half covered by a sort of market-woman's cloak, and +surmounted by a huge black straw bonnet--in spite of this there was a +certain dignity about her as in reply to Clodagh's silent attention she +murmured, "I thank you, young lady. But do not disturb yourself. I can +occupy the back seat." + +"I should think so indeed," exclaimed Paulina angrily. "Indeed, my good +woman, I am inclined to believe that your coming in here at all is some +mistake. This is for first-class passengers, and moreover our places +have been engaged for some days ahead.--What are you thinking of, you +silly child?" she went on sharply, turning to her cousin. "Why should +you give up your place to this person and her bundles? I won't have it. +Sit down beside me at once," for Clodagh with a crimson face was still +hesitating and moving about the bags and baggage nervously, though the +new-comer had already settled herself quietly with her back to the +horses. + +"Paulina," said the younger girl in a low voice, "_do_ not be so +excited. She has no bundles, or anything, so it cannot really +inconvenience us. And she is old, and looks so fragile. It is only +right that I should offer her my seat." + +Paulina was about to reply in the same irritated tone, when she was +interrupted. + +"I thank you, my kind young lady," said the stranger in a clear voice, +which somehow enforced attention, "I thank you for your courtesy and +consideration. But I have no desire to take your place, I assure you. In +fact I prefer this side. I am an old traveller. Nor will my presence +incommode you for long. I shall leave the coach before we reach +Oddingstowe." + +Clodagh murmured a gentle "Thank you." She was grateful to the old woman +for not resenting her cousin's rudeness. And to Paulina she whispered, +"She _cannot_ be a mere peasant. Her voice and words show it"; and to do +her justice, the elder girl looked a little ashamed of herself. + +"Don't tease me," she said. "It always upsets me to be wakened suddenly. +I'm going to sleep again," and so saying she leant back and closed her +eyes. + +And after a few minutes Clodagh followed her example, though she was no +longer sleepy. But something--a vague feeling of slight shyness--made +her do so, for she was conscious of her opposite neighbour's scrutiny. +Now and then from the depths of the quaint black bonnet she caught the +gleam of dark bright eyes, and the sensation caused her cheeks to grow +pink again. + +"Who and what can she be?" the girl said to herself. "She certainly +looks like a peasant, but her voice--her expressions--her dignity belie +it," and thus puzzling over the anomaly, Clodagh after all fell asleep. + +Now I must mention what may seem strange and most improbable. You will +remember the description given to the young traveller only an hour or +two before the coach stopped at the turnpike, of the old lady in the +neighbourhood, concerning whom such curious and even uncanny things were +said? + +Yes--well, this is the strange fact. Though Clodagh was at once +impressed in an unusual way by the personality of their +fellow-traveller, and perplexed to explain her inconsistencies, never +once during the day's journey did it occur to her to put "two and two +together"; to guess, as no doubt you, children, who are reading this +little old story, will already have done, that here in person was the +mysterious lady of the landlady's legend--the being who, if not actually +of fairy race herself, still had much in common with the "good people," +and doubtless dealings with them. + +But so it happened with Clodagh, and afterwards--not a long-delayed +afterwards either, as you will hear--she felt quite unable to explain +her own forgetfulness, or "stupidity" as she called it. + +In the meantime what occurred was this. She slept and Paulina slept on +uninterruptedly till the coach drew up at Oddingstowe. And when it did +so, and the clatter over the cobble-stones of the old inn's courtyard +aroused them, lo and behold, they were alone! The strange new-comer had +disappeared. The whole episode might have been a dream, only that +rarely, if ever, do any two people dream the same and at the same time. + +Paulina stared. + +"She's gone," she exclaimed. + +"Yes," said her cousin, feeling very much inclined to add, "You needn't +have been so rude to her." + +"I never felt or heard the coach stop to let her get out," added the +elder girl. + +"Nor did I," said Clodagh, "only----" + +"Only what?" + +"Nothing. I was dreaming, I suppose. But I have a misty recollection of +hearing some one say, almost in a whisper, 'Good-bye for the present, my +dear. We shall meet again.'" + +"I hope not," said Paulina, with a slight shudder. "Clodagh, you don't +think possibly she's a witch?" + +Clodagh's spirit of mischief inclined her to frighten her cousin a +little, but she refrained. + +"No, of course not," she replied. "She's a very polite and harmless old +woman, though, no doubt, there did seem something rather odd--mysterious +almost--about her. But if I may say it, Paulina, I think, in travelling +especially, it is best to be so--polite I mean--to everybody one is +thrown into contact with." + +Paulina muttered something which sounded like "rubbish" or "nonsense," +but aloud she only said snappishly, "You know nothing about travelling, +child. One has to keep up one's dignity." + +"There is a good way and a bad way of doing so," thought the younger +girl, though she said nothing more. She was relieved, however, to see +that her cousin was not really vexed with her, for she had spoken +impulsively, forgetting that it was scarcely her place to reprove +Paulina, all things considered. + +"I think she is really gentler and kinder than she sometimes appears," +Clodagh's reflections went on. "I fancy I shall be able to get on with +her if I am patient, and if I try my best. The only thing I am depressed +about is the luggage! I don't know _how_ to get my own things into +smaller compass, and when it comes to all her belongings too, I don't +see my way at all. I am so afraid of losing any of her beautiful +clothes, and no doubt she has valuable jewellery too, and she is very +changeable in her plans. Lady Roseley warned me that sometimes I should +have to pack and unpack at very short notice indeed!" and she could not +help sighing a little. But Paulina did not observe it, for by this time, +as I said, they were at Oddingstowe, the small town where they were to +stop to change horses and to have some early dinner, of which the elder +girl declared that she felt much in need. + +An hour later they started again, to Paulina's satisfaction no other +inside passenger appearing. A short though heavy thunder shower had +somewhat cleared the air, the simple meal had refreshed them, and +Paulina seemed quite to have recovered her good-temper. She grew +talkative. + +"Have you ever heard of the Marristons?" she asked. "My friends at the +Priory, you know, where we are to spend a few days." + +Clodagh shook her head. + +"No," she replied. "You said in your last letter that you had a visit to +pay on your way to the place where you intend to drink the waters, but +you did not mention any names." + +"Didn't I?" said Paulina carelessly. "Oh well, I'm not good at +letter-writing. They're very nice people, and very kind. You needn't +feel shy about going there," for Clodagh's manner and rising colour had +already shown that shy she was. "It won't be a large party, as they are +quite alone just now; just the father and mother, elderly people, their +married son and his wife and two daughters, older than you and I." +Paulina rather liked to make herself out younger than she was, when it +suited her, though at other times she treated her cousin as if she were +a complete child. + +"I am glad of that," Clodagh replied. "Then," she went on, somewhat +nervously, "perhaps you won't wear your very best dresses there, or +shall I take out everything?" for this terrifying question of packing +and unpacking was still uppermost in her mind. + +"Oh dear me!" exclaimed Paulina crossly, "perhaps not. How can I say? +You'll just have to see. That's what I want you for--to use your +intelligence; don't you understand? I hate being asked about every +trifle." Then, feeling that she had been speaking irritably, she went on +more kindly: "I suppose you've got some tidy gowns of your own--your +granny liked you to look nice, I know." + +"I haven't got any proper evening gowns," said Clodagh. "I used to wear +simple white muslin--not grown-up gowns, you know, but since grandmother +died I've only had black." + +"Ah yes, of course," Paulina agreed. "Well, just wear your nicest black +in the evening. Your being in mourning will explain it's not being full +dress. When we get to St. Aidan's"--the place where she intended to +drink the waters--"I'll see about some gowns for you. I hear that the +shops there are quite modish." + +"Thank you," said Clodagh gratefully. But in her heart she was thinking: +"Oh dear, if _I_'m to have more clothes, it will make the packing still +worse, and where am I to put them if Cousin Paulina complains already of +my luggage?" + +But no more was said on the subject just then, and before very long they +found themselves at Felway, where they left the coach, to complete the +rest of the day's journey in Squire Marriston's chariot, which was +awaiting them, as well as, to Paulina's satisfaction, a cart for their +voluminous belongings. + +The elder girl stepped into the roomy vehicle and glanced round her with +approval. + +"What a comfort to be less crowded up!" she exclaimed. "Clodagh, tell +them to put everything in the cart. Just give me my satin mantle--these +hot days sometimes end in chilly evenings--nothing else," and as her +cousin obeyed her, "You are sure nothing was left in the coach?" + +"Nothing," replied Clodagh confidently. "Still, I'll glance inside +again, to make quite sure," and she did so, for the stage-coach was +still there, waiting for fresh horses. + +She came back to report satisfactorily, and they set off. + +It was a longish drive, five or six miles, and the latter part through +rough roads and lanes which reminded Clodagh of her native land. + +"Thank goodness," said Paulina more than once, "that it is not winter +or very wet weather. We should stick fast in the mud in these +cart-tracks, to a certainty." + +But before long they reached the Priory, safe and sound, and as they +drove up the avenue, caught sight of two or three figures waiting to +welcome them in front of the picturesque old house. + +It was not a very large place, but home-like and attractive. Clodagh, +who was accustomed to huge rambling "castles," often in a more or less +dilapidated state, felt glad that this, the first English country-house +she had seen, was smaller and less imposing, and the kind greetings of +the Misses Marriston soon helped her to feel less shy and timid. It was +long before these modern days of "five o'clock teas," but then dinner +was proportionately early, and when the new-comers had shaken hands with +the rest of the family, assembled in the hall to welcome them, Annot +Marriston, the younger of the daughters and Paulina's special friend, +proposed that the cousins should at once go up to their rooms. + +"You will be glad to take off your travelling things," she said, "and +dinner will be ready in less than an hour." + +At this, Paulina's face fell, and Clodagh looked rather blank. For by +this time they were standing in the spacious and comfortable +guest-chamber prepared for the former, out of which opened a smaller but +pleasant little room for her young cousin companion. But in neither, +naturally enough, was there as yet any sign of their belongings. + +"Dinner in less than an hour!" exclaimed Paulina; "and how am I to +change my dress? I suppose, my dear Annot, the luggage-cart won't be +here in time?" + +Miss Annot shook her head. + +"Not for an hour or nearly that, I fear," she replied. "It comes slowly. +But there is room on the chariot for a box or two. I wish I had told the +men to mention this, and then you could have brought on with you +whatever you needed at once." + +Paulina looked extremely annoyed. + +"Clodagh," she said sharply, "you really might have thought of it." + +Clodagh looked and felt guilty. + +"I will do so another time," she murmured. + +Annot felt sorry for her. + +"I'll run down and enquire about the cart," she said. "Possibly it may +not take as long as I said," and she was hastening off when Paulina +stopped her, for she had sufficient good sense and feeling not to wish +to begin their visit by a scene of ill-temper. + +"After all," she said, "it does not very much matter, my dear Annot, if +you all will kindly excuse our enforced _deshabille_, as I understand +you are quite alone--just your own family party." + +Annot hesitated a little. + +"Ye-es," she replied. "Certainly only a family party. But I was just +going to tell you that Cousin Felicity has arrived unexpectedly. She had +retired to her own apartment before you drove up. That is her way, you +know. She swoops down upon us without the slightest warning and off +again in the same way." + +"How very disagreeable!" ejaculated Paulina, but Miss Marriston hastened +to correct her. + +"No," she said, "on the contrary, we are always very pleased to see her. +She is a most interesting person and has travelled immensely. At the +same time, I confess that we are somewhat in awe of her, and always +behave to her with the greatest deference and respect. She is a strange +mixture. Sometimes she goes about like an old peasant or gipsy--no one +knows how old she really is! But on occasions, always at dinner for +instance, she dresses magnificently--her diamonds are a sight to see! +That was why I hesitated just now, for I should have liked you to be in +correct attire. I will just ask about the cart," and off she went, to +return in a minute or two with the cheering information that there was +every chance of the luggage arriving in about half an hour. + +"And in the meantime," she said, "let me lend you brushes and combs, or +whatever will help you to begin your toilet." + +"Oh pray do so," said Clodagh gratefully. "Cousin Paulina, I am at least +sure that I can arrange your hair so as to please you. I have really +practised hair-dressing. I have so much of my own." + +"Well, then," said Paulina, when kind Annot returned with the promised +articles, "you may as well set to at once," and she proceeded to take +off her hat and veil and other things. "I don't think I ever heard of +this eccentric relative of yours before," she went on, turning to her +friend. "She must be quite a character." + +"That she is," was the reply. "I wonder I never told you about her. +Mother is not sure that she really is a cousin, but she likes us to call +her so. The relationship must be very distant, dating back to former +generations, for both my parents remember her as an old lady when they +were only children." + +Here Clodagh gave a little exclamation. Annot stopped politely. + +"Did you speak?" she said. + +Clodagh blushed, as she often did. + +"I beg your pardon," she replied. "I don't know what I meant. It +suddenly struck me that I had already heard of some one like your +cousin, so very old that no one living could remember the person, +whoever it was, as anything but old. It is curious," she went on +dreamily, "that I cannot recall where I heard it," for even then no +remembrance of the landlady's mysterious description awoke in her mind. + +"Well, what does it matter?" said Paulina sharply. "Don't worry about it +when you are doing my hair. You gave it such a tug just now when you +started so." + +"I'm very sorry," said the girl, and she gave her whole attention to the +work in hand, as to which she was really skilful. + +Then Annot left them, repeating her hopes that the luggage would not be +long of coming. "I quite think it may," she said, "for they took a good +strong horse in the cart--not one of the ponies only." + +But time went on. Paulina's "coiffure" was completed, happily to her +satisfaction; the hands of the clock were fast approaching the +dinner-hour, and no sign of the longed-for arrival. + +"Only twenty minutes now," said Paulina. "Really I have never been so +awkwardly placed before. I must say, Clodagh, I do think----" But these +thoughts were destined to remain unrevealed, for at that moment there +came portentous but most welcome sounds in the corridor outside the +room, and in another moment a servant tapped at the door, and entering, +requested the ladies kindly to direct the placing of the boxes. + +Clodagh hurried out. + +"All of yours had better be brought in here, I suppose, cousin?" she +asked as she went. + +"Of course, but not yet," Paulina exclaimed. "What are you thinking of, +child? First of all I must get dressed. My black lace will be the +quickest for to-night. It is in the brown leather imperial. Have that +brought in, and--and the large despatch-box, and the rest can wait till +we go downstairs." + +The first-named case was carried to its place, and Paulina was busy +selecting the key when Clodagh ran in with a startled face. + +"Cousin," she exclaimed, "the despatch-box is not there!" + +Paulina gave a shriek. + +"Impossible--and with all my jewellery! Clodagh, you vowed that you saw +everything off the coach, and I vow that I saw it lifted inside when I +started." + +"I did, I did see that everything was brought out," exclaimed Clodagh, +now on the point of tears, when luckily, oh the relief of it, a highly +respectable functionary in irreproachable attire appeared at the end of +the passage, carrying with his own majestic hands the missing case. + +"I have brought this myself, Madam," he said, addressing Paulina, "to +see it delivered into your personal keeping, surmising that it was of +importance." + +"Oh thank you, thank you a thousand times," cried the younger girl +impulsively in her joy, forgetting that she was not the person to reply, +till her cousin, with a condescending gesture, answered stiffly: "I am +obliged to you. You are quite right. The contents are of great value, +and but for carelessness," with a glance at Clodagh, "the case should +have come with ourselves in the chariot. It is not the kind of thing to +be sent in a cart." + +The butler, for such he was, bowed in reply. + +"Exactly so," he said. "Another time I should advise----" + +"Yes, yes," Clodagh interrupted. "I know it was my fault, but I shall +understand better in future. Paulina, do make haste. I have got your +dress out. We will be as quick as possible," she added, turning to the +butler, who took the hint and with another bow his departure also. + +And in an incredibly short time, thanks to Clodagh, whose eagerness +seemed to give her two or three pairs of hands instead of one, the elder +girl was attired, jewellery and all. She looked very handsome, and her +young companion stepped back a step or two to admire her. + +"Yes," said Paulina, glancing at the mirror with complacency, "I think I +look all right. You're not half a bad maid, child, or let us say----" + +"Never mind, if you're pleased, I don't care what I'm called," Clodagh +interrupted. "If only," she added, with a little sigh, "if only I can +learn about the luggage, the packing and unpacking and not losing +things." + +She opened the door as she spoke for her cousin to pass out, and for the +first time, as she stood there, the colour of excitement in her face and +the sparkle in her eyes, it struck Paulina that the "child," as she +called her with half-contemptuous affection, was fast becoming a very +pretty creature, and with this came a sudden flash of self-reproach, for +there was nothing consciously selfish or small-minded about the elder +girl, spoilt and self-willed and autocratic as she was. + +She stopped short with a gesture of horror. + +"What have I been thinking of?" she exclaimed, "and you yourself, +Clodagh? You're not dressed--you've not begun to dress, and the +dinner-hour already or almost. Why didn't you remind me that you had to +get ready too?" + +Clodagh smiled. + +"I really don't think it matters," she said. "I haven't got a proper +grown-up gown to begin with, and really there wasn't time to get out my +things too. I'm sure Mrs. Marriston will understand, and I daresay I can +have a little dinner sent up to me, if you----" + +But she stopped short, for just then Annot came running along the +passage towards them. "Can I----?" she was beginning, when, glancing at +them and the confusion of boxes and bags lying about, she saw that there +was something the matter. Paulina rapidly explained, and "Need I come +down?" pleaded Clodagh. + +"If she doesn't," persisted her cousin, "it will put everything wrong. +It will look as if--as if--you know, Annot, I want her to be considered +a sort of younger sister of mine. We _are_ near relations. Clodagh, you +don't want me to seem selfish and unkind." + +Miss Annot considered. + +"After all," she said, "Clodagh--may I call you so?--is scarcely +grown-up, and being in mourning too. If you just arrange your hair a +little, though really it does not look bad--it is so bright and +wavy--and--let me see, I can lend you a pretty simple fichu--over your +plain black bodice it will look rather well. Come with me--my room is +close at hand." + +And in two or three minutes they returned to where Paulina was anxiously +awaiting them--Clodagh looking quite fresh and sweet in the half +Puritan-like garb, with a bow of black velvet in her hair and a bunch of +violets as a breast-knot. + +"Yes," thought her cousin, "she's going to be quite a beauty. I must +get her some proper clothes, but"--as her eye fell on the confused pile +of their possessions beside her--"I don't know how ever she will manage +all this, and yet I can't go about with a maid as well! I do hope for +her sake as well as my own that I haven't been rash in this plan." + +But she smiled pleasantly enough as she thanked Annot for her kind +offices, and then the three made their way downstairs together. + +The drawing-room, or "long parlour" as the Marristons called it, +deserved the latter name, for long it was. In fact it had originally +been two if not three rooms, of which the end one was the most +important, as it was considerably wider than the other part. It was the +"saloon" of the house, where on more formal occasions the family +received their guests, though in an ordinary way their manners and +customs, as was the case in those days, while by no means "free and +easy," were simple and homely enough. + +But a visit from Cousin Felicity, however sudden and unexpected, at once +necessitated gala gowns; the opening of the "withdrawing-room"; longer +and more ceremonious meals, and all things in accordance with what the +strange guest considered due to her. + +For the time being the upset concerning the luggage and the consequent +hurry had caused both the new-comers to forget all about their +fellow-visitor, and it was with no preoccupation of mind concerning her +that Paulina and Clodagh, escorted by Annot, made their way down the +long room, to where at the end the members of the family group, whose +greetings they had already received, were awaiting them. As they drew +near, their hostess approached. + +"You have made good speed, dear Miss Paulina," she said kindly, "dinner +is not yet announced. In the meantime allow me to introduce you to our +esteemed friend and relative, whose visit has happily coincided with +your own," and she took the young lady's hand and led her towards a +large chair of state covered with magnificent brocade, on one side of +the fireplace, in which sat a small figure--small, but for that very +reason perhaps among others--so startling was the contrast with its +costly attire and with its extraordinary dignity and stateliness--the +very reverse of insignificant or unnoticeable. + +Paulina half unconsciously drew back a little, slightly turning away. +She was naturally of a haughty disposition, added to which, adulation +and flattery had helped to spoil her, and at once she felt annoyed at +being led forward like a child, to be presented to a complete stranger, +and this disagreeable sensation was increased by the fact that the +figure in the great chair remained motionless--motionless and mute. The +small lady might have been a statue or a wax doll. But in spite of +herself something made Paulina look straight at "Cousin Felicity," and +now that she saw her at close quarters, the splendour of her jewels, the +priceless lace in which she was draped, almost took away the younger +woman's breath. She half gasped--and then, feeling her eyes caught and +held as it were by the strange power of the piercing black ones, +gleaming in the midst of the colourless little old face, Paulina, +mistress of her emotions as she prided herself on being, Paulina, to +whom timidity and shyness were unknown, felt her cheeks crimson, and +hardly realising what she was doing, she curtseyed low and +deferentially. + +"Though, after all," as she said to herself a minute or two later, when +she had recovered her usual, somewhat arrogant self-possession, "after +all, hateful old cat though she is, she is an aged woman--too old to +act these ridiculous travesties--and I hope I know what good breeding +demands of politeness to our elders." + +For, as this mention of her later reflections shows, Paulina was by no +means as yet out of the wood. + +The ancient lady held out her glittering hand. + +"Does she expect me to kiss it?" the girl asked herself, when, to her +horror, came a reply to the unspoken query. + +"No," said Cousin Felicity, as she touched the tips of Paulina's now +extended fingers, "no," and this was the first word she had uttered, +"she does not. But what she sets far before curtseys and deference to +fine clothes and diamonds is respectful behaviour to the poor and aged. +How about the old peasant who presumed to intrude upon you this +morning?" + +Then Paulina knew, and she shivered. But her courage was good. "It was +not only what you think, Madam," she replied, "you do me scarce justice. +I desire to show respect to age. This morning I was taken aback. I was +so newly roused." + +Cousin Felicity bent her head, as if in royal pardon, though she did not +speak, and Paulina turning quickly, was glad to catch hold of Annot, +who with some of the others had drawn near in curiosity, though this was +tempered by their familiarity with the strange old dame's eccentricity. + +"You have met before?" Annot whispered. "She often frightens people at +first," for she felt that her friend was trembling. + +"I am not frightened," returned Paulina in the same tone. "I was only +startled and--rather angry. I had forgotten all about what you told us. +I will explain afterwards. I don't think people--especially old +ladies--should play tricks to catch others." + +Annot smiled, but she herself looked nervous. + +"Dear Paulina," she pleaded, "for goodness sake, don't be angry. I told +you she was not to be counted in any way as an ordinary person. Don't +frown so. She may see it--oh no, she is now occupied with Clodagh. Just +watch." + +For by this time it was the younger girl's turn to be led up to the +great armchair. + +She had been standing a little in the background, standing there +dreamily, as if she were trying to remember something. But she did not +seem timid or shy when at a touch on the arm from her hostess she came +quietly forward, her sweet Irish blue eyes, looking almost black under +their long lashes, lifted with a sort of gentle, half-bewildered +enquiry, as she drew near to the formidable little old lady. + +And for the first time, as the keen, piercing glance of this redoubtable +personage fell upon the young girl, a smile, softening the hard +expression and marvellously rejuvenating the small dried-up features, +crept over Cousin Felicity's face. + +"Welcome, my dear," she said, as she held out her hand in an inviting +though yet regal manner, and Clodagh, feeling, she knew not why, +impelled to do so, stooped and kissed it gently and respectfully. + +[Illustration: Stooped and kissed it gently and respectfully.] + +"Thank goodness," murmured such of the family as were near enough to +watch the small drama, "thank goodness, she has taken a fancy to the +child, and Clodagh is much more tactful than Paulina," for in their +heart both Mrs. Marriston and her daughters had been trembling, +especially since the reproof which the elder girl had received. + +"I am glad to thank you for your courtesy to a lonely and homely old +fellow-traveller this morning," Cousin Felicity continued, and then +Clodagh's grave face brightened and a touch of colour came into it. She +had scarcely overheard what had passed between Paulina and the aged +guest, or rather perhaps she had been in too absent a mood to take it +in. But now a look of relief spread over her, and she answered in her +usual frank and simple way. + +"Oh!" she said, "I am so glad you got here comfortably. I think we had +both fallen asleep at the time you left the coach, and I--I was so sorry +not to have been of any service to you--I had no idea we were bound for +the same place," she added, with a little smile of surprise. + +"Naturally," Cousin Felicity replied; "that is why I so fully appreciate +your courtesy." And she gave an odd though not disagreeable little laugh +as she went on: "I hope you lost none of your goods and chattels on the +way? You seemed to be somewhat overburdened." + +Clodagh drew still nearer to the old lady. + +"Yes, indeed," she said. "I am not surprised at your noticing it." +Paulina was not near enough to overhear, "We have a terrible number of +packages," and her face grew anxious at the remembrance. "It was that, +partly, that made my cousin seem so cross," she went on, lowering her +voice. "We were so crowded up. And I am so unused to travelling. I don't +know how I shall manage. Paulina is so kind to me, and of course I must +learn to be of real use to her." + +The elder Miss Marriston, Thomasine by name, was standing near. She +smiled at Clodagh's sudden, almost childish outburst of +confidence--afterwards Clodagh felt at a loss to explain it to herself, +for as a rule she was by no means a chatterbox--and remarked, though +with a touch of deferential apology in her tone: + +"Our Cousin Felicity is the genius of travelling in person. If she would +teach you some of her experience, Miss Clodagh, you would indeed be +fortunate. We always do say, you know, dear cousin, that you manage as +if by magic." + +The old lady smiled. She did not seem ill-pleased. + +"Yes," said Clodagh, glancing almost with reverence at the exquisite +yellowish lace, of cobweb-like texture, draping its owner's skirt, "to +see all these lovely treasures of attire, one wonders how it can be so +quickly arranged and re-arranged--and packed! For, as far as I remember, +Madam, you carried but little with you." + +Cousin Felicity smiled again. + +"You are right," she said. "I detest encumbrances. I travel with the +smallest amount of luggage possible. Not that this lace would add to +it----" and she passed her jewelled fingers over it fondly. "All I am +wearing could go through a wedding ring. It belonged to my--ah, well, we +need not say how far back among my ancestors it dates from." + +"It was made in fairyland, I believe," murmured Clodagh, and then there +stole across her memory some of the old tales and sayings she had heard +in her nursery--how that the "good folk," the "little people," reckon +not age and time as we do--that five centuries is in fairyland but as +five years, if that, to us. And the story of little Bridget, whose human +life ebbed out "between the dawn and morrow," poor little Bridget! +recurred to her with a slight shiver. It must have shown in her eyes as +she raised them again to her new friend's strange face. But what she +read there reassured her in some mysterious way, and then, as if a door +or window had suddenly opened in her mind, there flashed into her +remembrance all that the landlady of the old inn had told her that very +morning about the mysterious and fitful lady in the neighbourhood. + +"It is she herself," thought Clodagh. "How extraordinary that I did not +guess it before! But, fairy or no fairy, she wishes me nothing but +good," and a sweet, grateful smile lighted up the young girl's face, +chasing away the first vague misgivings. + +"Yes," came in a very soft whisper to her ears, "yes, my dear, you know +something about me, and before we part we must have some talk together," +but to this there was no time for her to reply, as at that moment dinner +was announced and the elder Mr. Marriston came forward to offer his arm +to the venerable guest. + +Somehow, though she found herself for the first time in her life among +strangers, Clodagh did not feel shy or ill at ease. She had an +underlying consciousness that she was kindly regarded, for her own sake +as well as to please her cousin. Paulina, who by this time had regained +her self-possession, was gentler than her wont, and did not speak much. +Indeed, though all passed pleasantly there was an indefinite feeling of +formality and ceremony not usual in the cheerful and friendly family +group. + +"It is not half as lively and amusing with that old----" "cat," Paulina +was probably going to say but for a "hush" from Clodagh, for it was to +her young cousin she was whispering on their way to the drawing-room. +"Well--with _her_ here," she continued. "They are all so desperately in +awe of her, I can't understand it." + +"But do be careful," urged Clodagh. "She may overhear, and you really +should be polite and respectful. As you say yourself, age alone demands +it." + +"I'm not going to be rude," Paulina replied, and she meant what she +said, though in her heart she had not forgiven the reproof she had +received, especially as she knew she had deserved it. But just as they +were entering the long parlour, Clodagh stopped her. + +"Cousin," she said, "I cannot rest with the thought of all our +things--yours especially--in such confusion upstairs. Will you allow me +to go to our rooms now and arrange them, partly at least? I am sure Mrs. +Marriston and her daughters will excuse me, if you explain to them." + +Paulina hesitated. She had a horror of seeming to treat her young +relation as an inferior, and yet she saw that it would really be kinder +to agree. Just then Thomasine came up to them, and on Paulina's putting +the question to her she took Clodagh's part. + +"Yes," she said, "I think it would be far better than for this child to +stay down till late, and then probably not get to bed for ever so +long." For the Marristons fully understood the position. So Clodagh, +much relieved, bade Thomasine a cheerful good-night and ran off. + +She worked hard--unpacking, separating, to some extent packing again, +for the weather was very hot and she knew that certain clothes could not +possibly be required during the few days of their stay at the Priory. +She was quick and intelligent and sensible, still she was very young and +her task was not an easy one, and but for her extreme anxiety to be of +real use to her cousin, she would almost have despaired of managing it. + +"But it would never do for me to lose heart at the first start," she +said to herself, "and of course, unless I prove fit for the post, +Paulina could not afford to keep me with her, as Lady Roseley explained. +For she is not _very_ rich, and it is such a blessing to be with her +instead of with strangers who knew nothing about me except that I was +poor and homeless." + +So she cheered up and worked on bravely. The evenings were long, for it +was barely past midsummer, and the dinner had been early, so she had +time enough to arrange her cousin's belongings, though she had scarcely +touched her own, when Paulina made her appearance yawning and wishing +herself in bed. + +"Good gracious, child!" she exclaimed, as she caught sight of Clodagh, +"are you at it still? Why, I expected to find you undressed at least, if +not in bed. But I must say you seem to have a head on your shoulders. My +things look most methodically arranged. And how about your own?" + +"Oh," said Clodagh, much pleased, in spite of feeling very sleepy and +tired, "I shall soon get them done. I will not make any noise if you go +to bed now, but I should like to feel things were tidy before----" + +But Paulina interrupted her. + +"Nonsense," she said. "I insist on your going to bed yourself. Just get +out what is absolutely necessary. You can finish in the morning, and +remember," she went on, for she was standing with the door open, and the +corridor was still encumbered, "remember to ask the servants to pile up +or carry away some of these boxes. One can scarcely get in and out of +the rooms. I wish your luggage were a little more concentrated. You have +such a number of small cases and bags." + +"Yes," Clodagh agreed. "You see I have never travelled any distance till +now," and she eyed her goods and chattels somewhat disconsolately. + +"We must arrange about it," said Paulina vaguely. "But now, get to bed +quickly," and after all, Clodagh felt that she really was getting too +sleepy to do more than was unavoidable, and in a short time both girls +were fast asleep, Clodagh's last waking thought being a resolve to get +up very early indeed to complete her arrangements. + +"I wish I could have got it all done to-night, but anyway the confusion +outside could not be cleared till to-morrow." + +She was tired and she slept soundly, still not quite dreamlessly. One +very queer experience she had, and even when she was wide-awake, and +daylight streaming in, she could not make up her mind if it had been +dream or reality. + +This was it, "and," she said to herself, "I am almost certain I was +awake." + +It was midsummer weather, as I said, so the window was wide open, and +suddenly through the silence Clodagh heard a familiar sound. It was that +of bees humming. It grew nearer and nearer, and opening her eyes--or +dreaming that she did so--she looked up. The room was flooded with +moonlight, and in it she perceived the source of the sound. Two large +bees were buzzing about, very busy apparently, but as there were no +flowers on the table or mantelpiece, Clodagh wondered sleepily what +could have attracted them. + +"I hope they won't sting me," she thought, for the humming grew nearer, +and then, strange to say, out of it gradually soft-whispering words +shaped themselves. + +"Don't wake her, whatever you do," said one bee. "She is fast asleep and +we must obey orders." + +"But we can't help humming," murmured the other. + +"Well, hum gently. It will soothe her, and let us set to work, for there +is plenty to do before daylight." + +That was all she heard, and soothe her the sound must have done, for she +knew nothing more till she really and unmistakably awoke, to see the +sunshine--the lovely, clear early summer morning sunshine--pouring in, +to hear the dear birds welcoming another happy beautiful day. + +Clodagh started up. She had never felt fresher or brighter; all last +night's tiredness had gone. She was used to early rising, and felt that +to stay lazily in bed was impossible. + +"It would be delicious out-of-doors," she thought, "but I _must_ finish +the tidying and sorting, if possible before Paulina awakes," and she +sprang out of bed. + +But--she rubbed her eyes--was she dreaming? The cupboards, of which +there were two in the old-fashioned room, the roomy chest of drawers, +all stood open, as if to exhibit their contents and demand approval, and +in them were arranged with the perfection of neatness and judiciousness +all her possessions, last night in disorder and barely unpacked. And on +a chair lay her garments for the day, not only those she had herself +placed there, but a spotless cool white gown--much cooler than the black +one she had travelled with--the very one she had been hoping to get out +and don that morning. + +"Have I done it all in my sleep?" she asked, and then some undefined +feeling made her open the door and peep out into the passage. Wonder of +wonders! All the confusion had disappeared. There stood there, in +dignified importance, two roomy, substantial trunks only, one of which +she recognised as her cousin's principal one, with her initials in small +brass nails on the lid, the other, similar in make and appearance, with +the first letters of her own two names marked in the same way. The very +sort of thing she had begun to long for since seeing Paulina's. + +She lifted the lid--a series of trays was disclosed, and examining +further, she perceived at the bottom, most beautifully folded, all her +own thicker clothing, gowns and woollens quite unsuitable for present +wear, and as she went on in breathless excitement to peer into her +cousin's, there was the same arrangement. The very garments she had +herself put aside for the present, the evening before, lay there +undisturbed, or rather, she suspected, far more exquisitely folded than +she had left them. And all the rest, the bandboxes and carpet-bags and +unbusiness-like odds and ends she had brought over the sea, had +disappeared, as if by magic. + +"And magic it is," she said to herself, for, as she stood there +listening, a clock in the distance struck five, not another sound or +rustle was to be heard. Not a soul was as yet astir in the old house. + +Clodagh danced back into her room. + +"The fairies are afield," she sang to herself softly. Never had she felt +so gay and light-hearted. "I shall dress and run out into the garden," +she thought. "There is nothing to keep me indoors. Everything is +safe"--for the heavy despatch-box she knew to be in Paulina's keeping. +"What will the servants think when they see it?" + +What they did think was that each thought the others had cleared away +the pile of the young ladies' luggage, leaving only what was required. +Or at least, as no questions were asked, no remarks made, they probably +thought so, if they thought about it at all! Perhaps their curiosity was +put to sleep by some uncanny though not maleficent influence. Who can +say? + +And in a very short time Clodagh was ready, and hat in hand, looking +like the very spirit of the morning in person, she ran downstairs to +find the old hall-porter sleepily unbarring the great door, though, +sleepy as he was, he could not restrain a smile of admiration and a +respectful "You be early about, Miss," to which she laughingly replied, +"Who could help it, once they were awake, on such a morning?" + +Yet another surprise awaited her, as you shall hear. + +The Priory grounds were fairly extensive and delightfully quaint. Great +laurel hedges, alternating with curiously high-clipped yews, and some +magnificent elms added to the impression of space, as well as to that +sort of pleasant "mystery" without which no garden is thoroughly +fascinating. + +"What a lovely place to explore!" said Clodagh to herself, as she turned +down one long shady path, streaked here and there with the early +sun-rays filtering through the foliage. Then a sound reached her ears, +which recalled her experience of the night before. It was the humming of +bees. She stood still for a moment to listen, feeling as if she were on +the confines of some enchanted region. Then slowly, treading very +softly, she went on. Yes--in a minute or two she saw at the end of the +path a huge beautiful beehive, its inhabitants flying in and out, +buzzing away, like the busy creatures they are. And in front of it stood +a quaint little figure, whom Clodagh this time had no difficulty in at +once recognising as the mysterious "Cousin Felicity" again. + +Her laces and diamonds of the evening before seemed a dream, though her +dress was dainty enough, much finer in quality than the very homely +attire in which Clodagh had first seen her. It was a gown of flowered +chintz, of the delicate colouring and excellent material that one now +and again finds treasured among family relics--such as "my +great-grandmother's" or even "great-great-grandmother's dresses." And +the skirt was drawn through the pocket-holes in the orthodox +old-fashioned way, showing the pink cotton petticoat and the neat little +high-heeled shoes. The whole figure, as she stood with her back to the +new-comer, was so trim and slim and youthful, that it gave almost a +shock to Clodagh when the little lady turned suddenly and she caught +sight of the tiny, withered, white face, surmounted by a kind of mob +cap, from beneath which escaped a few soft grey curls. Yet it was +evident that Cousin Felicity was in very good health and spirits, for +she smiled beamingly as she accosted the young girl. + +"The top of the morning to you, my dear," she said. "That's your +national greeting, is it not? I knew you were not a lie-abed. Well, and +how wags the world with you? I have been visiting my friends here, you +see. We understand each other, these clever little creatures and I," and +she fixed her bright eyes on Clodagh. + +For a moment or two Clodagh stood silent. Then a smile broke over her +face. + +"Madam, lady, what shall I call you?" she exclaimed. "I must say it. I +know the truth. You _are_ a fairy. It is you I have to thank for what +has been done to help me in the night!" + +"Call me what you please, my dear, when we are alone," said the old +lady, "but keep what you know, or suspect--rather more than the actual +fact, by the bye," she added--"keep it to yourself. I know you are +discreet, otherwise I could not be of service to you as I intend to be. +Now tell me, child, what are your troubles or anxieties, for some I know +you have----" + +"I don't feel as if I had any at all this morning," Clodagh interrupted +laughingly. + +"Ah, well--so much the better, it shows a healthy nature," was the +reply. "But, tell me, is that very autocratic young woman, your cousin, +good to you? Are you happy to be with her?" + +"Yes, yes, truly I am," Clodagh replied eagerly. "That is to say, I feel +sure I am going to be so. You see we only met again yesterday, after not +having seen each other for several years, not since I have been +grown-up. But I must explain. Paulina is very kind. I am sorry she was +rude to you yesterday. She was sorry herself afterwards, but she is only +quick-tempered and spoilt. She has a kind heart. When my dear +grandmother died I should have been homeless, forced to earn my living +with strangers, but for her," and by this time Clodagh's eyes were +filled with tears. + +Cousin Felicity nodded her head slowly, and in a moment or two she spoke +again. + +"Did you love your Irish home very dearly?" she asked. + +"Did I? _Do_ I, rather," the girl replied. "Oh, dear lady, I adore it! +But it is mine no longer. It belongs to strangers, it is best for me not +to think of it; though I have known all my life that I should have to +leave it when Granny left me, I don't think I realised it. That is why I +am glad to travel. It is interesting, and takes my thoughts off, to see +new places and people. I am glad that Paulina travels so much, if +only----" and here she gave a deep sigh. + +"Ah, ha," cried the little old lady, but though slightly mocking, her +tone was not the least unkindly, "now we are getting to your troubles. +What is that deep sigh about?" + +"It's my fear that I can't manage things properly for Paulina," said +Clodagh, "and if so, I must leave her. She is not _very_ rich. She can't +afford to buy me pretty gowns and things, as she means to do, if I +cannot save her having a maid. She cannot take two about with her. Oh, +it's the luggage! Do you know, yesterday I thought I had lost her +jewellery--I'll never forget my horror!" + +"Would you like to know how _I_ travel? Shall I show you?" said her new +friend. + +Clodagh looked at her wonderingly. + +"Indeed I would," she said. "But then," she went on, "though I am afraid +you do not like me to say it, I _know_ you are a----" + +"S-sh. Never mind about that. Come with me," was the reply. + +It was still very early. No one was about. Cousin Felicity took the +girl's hand and turned to re-enter the house by a different way from +that by which Clodagh had come. But before doing so, she stopped a +moment and waved her tiny hand as if in adieu to the beehive. + +"Thanks many," her companion heard her murmur. "You did your work well +last night," and to Clodagh she went on, with a twinkle in her bright +eyes, "Were you pleased with what you found this morning--the new trunk +and all?" + +"Pleased!" exclaimed the girl rapturously, "I couldn't believe my eyes. +Not that I mind work," she went on, "I think I can soon learn to pack +and unpack cleverly. It is the responsibility of all the things, the +terror of losing them, that distresses me." + +"Yes, yes," said her friend, "I understand. I do not mean to do all your +work for you. It is the industrious and active, not the idle and lazy, +that"--and here she gave her funny twinkling smile again--"that _they_ +help, as all the stories you have heard over the sea always tell. You +shall see what I can do, and what you must do yourself." + +By this time they had reached a side entrance to the house. The door +stood open; a small staircase faced them, up which with wonderful +quickness, considering her great age, Cousin Felicity sprang, followed +by Clodagh, and crossing a landing, opened the door of a room, inviting +the girl to enter with her. + +It was a pleasant room; the first impression it made on Clodagh was of +whiteness--and exquisite neatness. It matched the little old lady to +perfection. + +"This is where I always am, when I visit these kind people," she said. +"No one ever has this room but myself. And," she went on in a low voice +as if speaking to herself, "who, if I tried to tell it, would believe +for how many generations it has been appropriated to me?" + +Clodagh felt a thrill of awe as she caught the mysterious words. But in +another moment Cousin Felicity had turned to her briskly, pointing to a +neat, good-sized trunk standing in front of the fireplace. + +"That is all _my_ luggage," she announced. "It holds more than Paulina's +fine lady's maid would have got into half-a-dozen like it, because _I_ +know how to pack. But--look at it well." + +Clodagh stared at it obediently. + +"Shut your eyes." She did so. Then it seemed to her that she heard a +murmur of words. + +"Open." Clodagh again obeyed. And this time, stare she did, for--the box +was no longer there, it had vanished from view! + +She was too astonished to speak. + +"Hold out your hand," was the next command. + +Cousin Felicity laid something on the outstretched palm. Clodagh gazed +at it in amazement and admiration. It was a miniature trunk, evidently +of the finest make. Never had she seen such a perfect toy of its kind, +and it was an exact facsimile of her strange old friend's substantial +box, which a minute before had been standing in front of her in the most +matter-of-fact way. It was small--not above a couple of inches in +length, and half as much in width and depth, but curiously heavy. It +might almost have been a small block of lead, fashioned to represent a +Liliputian portmanteau, and still Clodagh stood there staring at it, +without speaking. + +"That is how _I_ travel," said the mysterious little lady at last. "It +contains all my belongings, just as I told you the other--or rather +itself in its other proportions--does. See, I slip it in here," and she +held out the black hand-bag, or reticule, which the girl had noticed in +the coach, and taking the little box from Clodagh she did as she said, +"I draw the strings, I hang it over my arm," accompanying her +explanations by the appropriate actions, "and there I am, ready to +journey from one end of Europe to the other, or farther still, with no +anxiety." + +Her young protegee lifted her eyes. + +"It is too marvellous, too delightful for words!" she exclaimed. + +The little old lady smiled graciously. + +"I knew you would say so," she replied. "Well, now, I can extend this +magical power to you, on two conditions. You must keep the secret, +absolutely and entirely, and you must do your own work perfectly. There +must be no untidiness or hurry-scurry; you must never leave things +behind, or tear or crumple them--if so, your carelessness will bring its +own punishment, for it would prevent the spell's working, and even +I--fairy or witch as you think me----" + +"No, no," Clodagh interrupted eagerly, "not witch. You are too kind and +charming to be that." + +"Ah, well, we can leave aside the question of what or who I am. The +point is what I can _do_, and what I cannot. And counteract the working +or not working of the spell if the rules are broken, is beyond my +power." + +"But I _will_ keep them," exclaimed Clodagh. "That is to say, I will do +my very best to be most neat and methodical. Granny trained me to be +neat. And I will keep the secret; that I promise, _only_----" and her +face fell as a sudden idea disconcerted her. + +"What?" + +"If Paulina suspects anything? If she notices, and thinks there is +something strange about it all?" + +Cousin Felicity smiled. + +"I will see to that. You need not be afraid. If you fulfil your part, +you will have _no_ trouble, as regards Paulina or any one else. Come +now--I will go with you to your rooms to explain all, before any one is +about. But first--close your eyes for a moment. Yes----" and when +Clodagh opened them, there stood the trunk again, as she had first seen +it! + +She followed the old lady down a passage or two, and up some steps, till +at the end of the corridor she saw that they were in the part of the +house familiar to her. Cousin Felicity stopped in front of the two +trunks, Paulina's and Clodagh's new one, standing just outside the doors +of their rooms, and glanced at them approvingly. She was just going to +speak when the girl touched her on the arm. + +"I am afraid," she began timidly, "I am afraid that Paulina may be awake +by now, and if she heard us and looked out----?" + +Her friend nodded reassuringly. Then she noiselessly opened the door of +the sleeper's room and stepped in, Clodagh close behind her. It was +almost dark inside, for Paulina was not one of the people who like to +see the dawn gradually creeping up--she always had her blinds drawn +down. Still it was light enough for Clodagh to see the mysterious +visitor make her way, swiftly and soundlessly, to the side of the bed. +Then she stooped over the pretty face lying on the pillow, touched the +closed eyelids softly, murmuring something inaudible, then came back to +Clodagh waiting near the entrance and led the way outside again, closing +the door behind them. + +"_That_ is quite safe," she said, smiling. "Have no fears for the +present or the future. You will have no difficulties, I assure you. +Now--" and she stood before the two closed boxes. "See," she said, "and +listen. Whenever you have packed them neatly and perfectly, sure that +nothing is forgotten, you lock as usual, deposit the keys safely, then +stand in front of each in turn, touch the initials with your +fore-finger--you have each three, 'P. O'B.' and 'C. O'B.'--saying slowly +and clearly as you do so + + "One, two, three, + Dwindle, says Felicity. + +"Then close your eyes for a moment, and you will see--hold, I will show +you now. Shut your eyes." Clodagh did so. "Open." She obeyed, and there +in front of her lay, so small that at the first moment she scarcely +perceived them, two miniature editions of her own and Paulina's trunks, +brass nails, letters and all. + +"Feel them," said her companion. + +Clodagh stooped and picked them up, her eyes sparkling with eagerness. +They were heavy, certainly, but less so than the old lady's own one. + +"You have a hand-bag?" this personage enquired. + +"Oh yes," replied Clodagh, and in a moment she had fetched it. It held +the toy trunks perfectly. + +"Take them out again," came the order. + +"Now," her friend continued, "listen. When you reach your destination, +withdraw them from your reticule, place them wherever is most +convenient, touch the letters again, beginning with the last, and say +this time + + "Three, two, one, + Journey's done, + +and--all will be as you desire." + +She smiled as she spoke. + +"You may test it at once," she said. "Place them on the floor. Now----" + + "Three, two, one, + Journey's done," + +repeated Clodagh, touching the letters, as she did so, "B," the last, +first. Then she shut her eyes, and when she looked again--yes--there +they were, the two neat capacious trunks, as before. + +"Oh," she said, with a sigh of delight. "It is too good to be true! How +can I thank you?" + +But as she looked up, holding out her hands in gratitude, lo and +behold--Cousin Felicity had vanished. Glancing round quickly, however, +Clodagh fancied she saw a shadow of something disappearing at the turn +in the passage. Whether this was so or not, who can say? + +[Illustration: Lo and behold--Cousin Felicity had vanished.] + +"I will thank her again when we meet downstairs," thought the girl, +little imagining that this was not to be. + +Just then the door behind her opened, and Paulina, her eyes still but +half-awake, peeped out. + +"Oh, child," she said, "is it late? You up and dressed already! I must +hurry." + +"There is plenty of time," Clodagh replied. "It is still early." + +"How well and bright you look!" Paulina exclaimed. "You must have slept +well. So unlike my last travelling companion--that silly Pelagie--not of +course, dear, that I mean to compare you with a maid-servant--but the +airs she gave herself! She could never sleep the first night in a +strange place, nor the last, because she was nervous about the +pack----Oh," she broke off, "I see you've got rid of all the old bags +and bandboxes. What a good thing! I didn't know you had such a nice +sensible trunk, so neat, and just like mine." + +"Yes," said the young girl. "It really holds more than I require. I have +planned it all, Paulina. You shall never have any trouble about the +luggage if you will leave the whole to me." + +"I shall only be too thankful to do so," said her cousin lazily. "I +think you are a genius, my dear. The way you have arranged my dresses +and everything is simply perfection." + +Half an hour or so later, the two, summoned by the breakfast gong, made +their way downstairs, where most of the family were already assembled, +and as the others dropped in, Clodagh looked round eagerly for her +new-old friend. But come she did not, and after a short delay Mrs. +Marriston turned to her elder daughter. + +"Thomasine, my dear," she said. "I think you had better go upstairs to +enquire for Cousin Felicity and offer to escort her. I scarcely like to +begin breakfast without her, for fear of seeming to lack respect." + +For those old-fashioned days were very ceremonious and any want of +deference to the eccentric old lady was not to be thought of. Thomasine +went at once, but in a very few minutes returned alone, holding a scrap +of paper in her hand, looking somewhat disconcerted, though she was half +laughing also. + +"She has gone!" she exclaimed, "bag, baggage and all, leaving this." + +Mrs. Marriston took the paper eagerly. "Oh, _can_ we have offended her?" +she said anxiously, but a moment after, she too laughed. "No, I see it +is all right," she went on, reading aloud the note in her hand. + +"'Farewell for the present, kind friends,' it said. 'A sudden summons +to----'--no, I can't decipher the word--'cuts short my visit. Fare you +well, one and all.'" + +They looked at each other. Annot took the paper from her mother. "No," +she agreed, "I cannot read it. But we never do know where she goes or +how she goes! It may be Kamschatka or the moon." + +"Or fairyland," murmured Clodagh. + +"All the same," said Paulina, who, for her part, was by no means sorry +for the mysterious lady's flight, "it cannot but be rather trying to +have such a guest. She expects to be received with regal honours, and +then off she goes like 'old Mother Goose when she wanted to wander.'" + +The others laughed. + +"My dear Paulina," said Annot, "you are a _young_ 'Mother Goose' +yourself, with your love of travelling." + +"Quite so," Paulina agreed. "But you will allow that I give my +hospitable friends _some_ notice of my intentions. And, after all," she +added, "some day, when Clodagh and I have had enough of wandering, we +shall settle down, no doubt." + +"And, to do our late guest justice," said Mrs. Marriston, "erratic as +she is, her visits have never brought us anything but good luck. Her +crossing the threshold is always beneficent. This very morning we have +excellent news from India of our dear Humphrey, who, we heard by the +last mail, was seriously ill. He has quite recovered." + +She spoke of a younger son in the--in those days--_very_ far-off East. + +Clodagh had glanced up with quick interest when Paulina alluded to "some +day settling down." Her feelings at present were very mingled. She +scarcely understood them herself. She was ready keenly to enjoy the +novelty and exhilaration of travel, seeing new places and people, and +now that her one misgiving had been so marvellously removed, her spirits +rose high. But still--she had not yet been away a week from her own old +home, hers no longer, and already there were moments when, if she closed +her eyes, she saw in fancy the dear rugged walls of Grey Rocks--the +scene of her own and Paulina's childhood--and heard the splash of the +waves at the foot of the cliffs, and then she would feel the tears +creeping into her eyes, and she thought to herself, "I suppose it is +what is called 'home-sickness,' but I must not give way to it. If only I +could hope some day to go there again!" + +It was not a very ambitious hope, for Grey Rocks was but a small domain, +and had Clodagh's father lived it might have still been their own. + +In the meantime, however, she greatly enjoyed the stay at the Priory, +and every day she grew cleverer with regard to her duties. She practised +folding and arranging Paulina's many garments till she really reached +perfection, and she was so methodical and careful, yet never fussy or +overwhelmed, that Paulina declared she had never been so splendidly +looked after in her life. So far this was most satisfactory. Still, when +the week to which their visit had been extended drew to its close, it +must be confessed that Cousin Felicity's young protegee was not without +nervousness as to the working of the spell. + +"Suppose," she thought, "suppose I had dreamt it all!" But then her +glance fell on her own beautiful new trunk--"No, no," she added, "of +course it was real and true." + +And when the morning of their departure came, nothing could have +exceeded her care to remember everything. + +She waited till Paulina, fully attired for the journey, had gone +downstairs for a few last minutes with her hosts, then she rapidly +deposited the precious despatch-box in a corner of her own trunk, in +which there was still room; closed and locked both; recited as directed +the words of the spell, shut her eyes, and waited, as before. + +Yes--all was right. There lay the miniature luggage, and in another +moment both toy boxes were safe in her reticule, and with light feet and +a light heart she ran down to join the others, just as the chariot which +was to take them to the nearest posting-house drew up at the door. + +"Everything is ready," she said to Paulina. "I have seen to the +luggage," and Paulina nodded carelessly. + +"The ladies' things have gone on in a cart, I suppose?" asked one of the +Marristons. The dignified butler replied that he understood it had been +seen to, the truth being that he had not thought about it; and on his +side the old hall-porter took for granted that the housemaids had had it +conveyed down the back-stairs, that is to say if _he_ thought about it +at all! + +Anyway, as the mysterious lady had promised, so it fell out. Clodagh was +troubled with no enquiries, no interference. + +And arrived at St. Aidan's Wells, where they were to spend some weeks, +all continued satisfactory. Once, it must be confessed, on their way, +Clodagh had a fright. For they had to make two breaks in the long +journey, spending one night at each, and on the second occasion, after +Clodagh had closed and locked and repeated the spell, lo and behold, it +refused to act! She started in terror, then her eyes fell on her own +little slippers, which she had forgotten to pack. In a moment she had +repaired the mistake, and then--yes, all went as before. + +"But," said the girl to herself, "I must be _more_ than careful. For +possibly a second lapse on my part might not be forgiven." + +They remained at the watering-place for a month or two, then started off +again; this time for a lively seaside town where Paulina had arranged to +meet friends; then, as the autumn drew on, to country-houses in the +hunting districts, for the elder girl was a good horsewoman, as indeed +was Clodagh also. What true Irish girl is not? + +It was all very pleasant and exciting and the cousins enjoyed it, yet +sometimes Paulina declared herself tired and wishful for a rest, even +though her journeys were accomplished with the smallest possible +trouble. The variety of their visits called of course for constant +renewal of dresses and additions to them, but never did the two +spell-bound trunks seem too full, and every time she packed and +unpacked, Clodagh thought with inexpressible gratitude of the "fairy +lady," as to herself she called her, and her bestowal of the strange +secret. + +"But for her, I could not have managed," she often reflected. "I should +have had to give it up--it would not have been fair to Paulina, and then +where could I have gone, for home in my own country I have none? And oh, +how, through all the novelty and amusement and excitement of +travelling, in spite of the kindness I meet with, oh how I sometimes +long to be in dear grandmother's old turret room, listening to the faint +whirr of her spinning-wheel, and the louder sound of the waves breaking +on the cliffs below! I can feel the breeze that always blew in if the +casement in the deep window-seat was open; I can taste the salt flavour +of the spray that sometimes on stormy days flew up to where I sat! Oh +dear old home! I wonder if Paulina ever feels about it in the least as I +do?" and then she would fall to wishing that she could somehow earn +money enough to buy back the old "eyrie," and be its little chatelaine. +"How I would enjoy receiving Paulina, and making _her_ enjoy it!" + +But for these day-dreams she had not much leisure, and she knew that she +should not indulge in them. Still the longing was always there, and as +time went on it grew more persistent and intense. + +"It is just home-sickness," thought Clodagh, and she felt that she must +not give way to it. + +"I wish I could meet 'Cousin Felicity' again," she often said to +herself. "She was so wise. I am sure she would advise me how to keep +cheerful and content. And yet she must have understood, for I remember +her asking me if I loved my home very dearly." + +The weeks and months and almost the years--for one had fully gone, and +the second since Clodagh's arrival on this side of the water was well on +its way--passed, and then one day came little looked-for tidings. + +The cousins were just then again at St. Aidan's, which Paulina, who had +great faith in its waters, made a point of visiting once or twice a +year. One morning, when Clodagh came in from doing some little +commissions on the Parade, she found her friend, pale as death, half +fainting in her chair, an open letter in stiff, formal writing on her +knee. + +"Clodagh, oh Clodagh," she exclaimed, "read, read. Who could have dreamt +of it?" + +And truly her distress was not to be wondered at, for the news was +appalling, being nothing less but that of the poor young woman's almost +total ruin by the failure of a bank. Clodagh for a moment felt stunned, +but she soon collected herself and did her best to comfort her cousin. + +"Take courage, dear Paulina," she said. "There is no need for despair. +You have still enough for comfort of a simple kind, and I will work for +you. It will be my turn to repay your generosity." + +"Dear child," murmured her poor cousin, all her high spirit broken, "you +have already far more than repaid anything I have done for you. But +don't leave me, promise me. If we must starve, let it be together." + +"We shall not starve," said Clodagh cheerfully. "If--oh, Paulina, I +wonder if you could make up your mind to live at Grey Rocks. My old +nurse would take us in. She has a little farm and a nice clean house. +Granny gave it to her and furnished it. We could live there on almost +nothing, and every one would know who we were and be good to us." Her +eyes actually sparkled at the prospect. + +And after a little Paulina caught some of the younger girl's spirit. + +"Yes," she said, "it is the best thing we can do. I have none but happy +remembrances of the old place." + +So Clodagh wrote to the friend of her grandmother who had been her +guardian, asking him to see her nurse and arrange it. Writing direct +would have been useless, as the simple woman had never learnt to read. +And as quickly as the slow mails of those days could bring it, came Mr. +Fitzgerald's reply. More than a reply indeed, for he began the letter by +saying that he had pen in hand to write to her when her request reached +him, for he had an extraordinary communication to make. + +"Grey Rocks, my dear Clodagh," he wrote, "is yours, your own property. +It has again been for sale, as the late purchaser inherited unexpectedly +a large property and did not care to retain the smaller one, and on the +very day before I heard from you, a certain firm of lawyers, well known +to me and entirely trustworthy, sent over a confidential clerk to +arrange for the purchase for yourself--Miss Clodagh O'Beirne--of the +entire little property, as a gift, an absolute gift from an unknown +friend, on one condition only, that you will never seek to discover the +giver. I rejoiced inexpressibly, but my rejoicing is doubled and trebled +since the receipt of your distressing news this morning. Surely never +was a kind deed more appropriate. All is already in train, and whenever +it suits you to return, you, accompanied I hope by Miss Paulina +O'Beirne, will be welcomed with heartfelt joy by us all." + +Clodagh's delight may be imagined, and to Paulina also the news was an +immense relief. + +"Who can be the unknown friend?" she exclaimed, adding, however, "But as +you must never try to find out, perhaps it is better not to speak of +it." + +"Much better," said Clodagh, and they never did. + +And a happy home old Grey Rocks proved. It was but seldom they cared to +leave it. But when they did "want to wander," and with good management +their joint means were enough to enable them to do so now and then, you +may be sure that their only luggage was the two well-tested trunks, +whose marvellous properties never failed. Clodagh, of course, in her +heart had her own secret belief as to the identity of her benefactor or +benefactress, but the mysterious "fairy lady" she never saw again. And +whether her visits to the Marristons at the Priory continued or not, I +cannot say. + +Nor can I tell you the after history of the cousins, though something +whispers to me that their lives were happy. But it all happened a long +time ago. I cannot go over to Grey Rocks, for I do not know, to tell the +truth, in what part of old Ireland it stands. Possibly still, in some +forgotten corner of a deserted attic are hidden away the enchanted +trunks, no one guessing their fairy powers! Who can say, though I am +sure most of us wish that they, or others of their kind, belonged to us. +How delightful it would be! + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Fairies Afield, by Mary Louisa Molesworth + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FAIRIES AFIELD *** + +***** This file should be named 39167.txt or 39167.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/1/6/39167/ + +Produced by Delphine Lettau, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Canada Team at +http://www.pgdpcanada.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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