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-

-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE SUNBEAM ***

-

-Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.

-

-[Illustration: THE CORNISH FLOWER-FARM.]

-

-

-

-                           LITTLE SUNBEAM

-

-

-

-                                 BY

-

-                         ELEANORA H. STOOKE

-

-

-                      AUTHOR OF "GRANFER," ETC.

-

-

-

-                 WITH FRONTISPIECE BY MYRA K. HUGHES

-

-

-

-                              LONDON

-                    NATIONAL SOCIETY'S DEPOSITORY

-                     BROAD SANCTUARY, WESTMINSTER

-            NEW YORK: THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 & 3 BIBLE HOUSE

-

-                       [All rights reserved]

-

-

-

-                            PRINTED BY

-            SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE

-                             LONDON

-

-

-

-                        BY THE SAME AUTHOR

-

-                  GRANFER, and ONE CHRISTMAS TIME.

-                             Price 1s.

-

-                    NATIONAL SOCIETY'S DEPOSITORY,

-                     Sanctuary, Westminster, S. W.

-

-

-

-                             CONTENTS

-

-CHAPTER

-

-   I. KNOCKED DOWN

-

-  II. CONCERNING AUNT CAROLINE

-

- III. THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION

-

-  IV. PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY

-

-   V. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR

-

-  VI. MISS LEIGHTON'S DISCOVERY

-

- VII. A GREAT SURPRISE

-

-VIII. CONCERNING ELLEN BARNES

-

-  IX. TEA AT LOWER BRIMLEY

-

-   X. GOOD-BYES

-

-  XI. HOME AGAIN

-

- XII. AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT

-

-XIII. PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS

-

- XIV. CONCLUSION

-

-

-

-                           LITTLE SUNBEAM

-

-CHAPTER I

-

-KNOCKED DOWN

-

-"COME along, Billy. Mother said we were not to be long; and I'm sure

-we've been more than half an hour."

-

-The speaker—a little girl of about nine years old, clad in a somewhat

-shabby blue serge coat and skirt, with a Tam o' Shanter cap on her

-golden curls—tried to pull her brother away from the toy shop window

-into which he was gazing longingly; but he resisted, and still lingered.

-

-"There's plenty of time, Peggy," he assured her. "You know we never

-have tea till five o'clock, and you can't imagine what a heap of jolly

-things there are in this window. I wish you could see them."

-

-"I wish I could," she answered. "Never mind, you can tell me all about

-them by-and-by."

-

-It was a cold, dull, February day; but it did not rain, and the street

-was thronged with vehicles, whilst the pedestrians—mostly of the lower

-classes, for the district was a poor one—hustled against each other

-on the pavements. No one took any notice of the two children who had

-been standing before a toy shop window for the last ten minutes. And,

-indeed, there was nothing about them to attract the observation of a

-casual observer, although the countenance of the little girl, with its

-finely-cut features and sweet expression, possessed a delicate beauty

-which was certainly out of the common. No one looking at Peggy Pringle

-would have guessed that she was blind, for her eyes, in colour the

-darkest blue, were as clear as crystal; but the sad fact was that the

-blessing of sight was denied to her.

-

-It had been a terrible trouble to the child's parents when, some months

-after her birth, they had learnt the truth, that the happy baby, whose

-rosebud lips seemed formed only for smiles, and whose eyes were "bits

-of Heaven's blue" as her young mother had used to declare, would never

-see the light of day, and they had grieved deeply. But Peggy had never

-appeared to realise how great was her affliction, and at the present

-time it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to find a more

-contented little girl. "Little Sunbeam" her father had nicknamed her

-years before, and a veritable sunbeam in the household she continued to

-be.

-

-Peggy and her brother, who was only thirteen months her junior, had

-been sent to buy buns for tea, and she was holding the bag which

-contained them with one hand, whilst with the other she kept a firm

-grip of Billy's coat. She was not exactly nervous in a crowd, for she

-had been accustomed to London all her life, and her home was in a

-thickly populated district. But she experienced a sense of bewilderment

-as she listened to the hurrying footsteps on the pavement and the

-continual roll of carriage wheels, and she wished Billy would tire of

-looking into shop windows and return home.

-

-"Come, Billy," she urged again, "mother will wonder what is keeping us.

-Do come."

-

-Accordingly, Billy took his sister by the hand with an air of

-protection, and they walked on. At the corner of the street, they stood

-waiting for a favourable opportunity to cross.

-

-"Is there a policeman near?" asked Peggy.

-

-"There's one on the other side of the road," replied Billy, "but we

-don't want him. I can manage all right. When I say 'Now,' mind you come

-right on."

-

-A minute later Billy cried, "Now!"

-

-So, hand in hand, the children went fearlessly forward. And they would

-have effected the crossing in safety had not a private carriage, drawn

-by a pair of spirited horses, turned the corner from a side street.

-Billy hurried his sister on; but the road was slippery, and, in her

-haste, the little girl stumbled and let go her brother's hand. Some

-one flung Billy on one side, whilst the coachman driving the pair of

-horses pulled them back on their haunches in time to prevent a serious

-accident, but not before one of the animals had struck poor Peggy on

-the shoulder with its hoof. She was borne to the pavement in the arms

-of the policeman whose help Billy had disdained, and in a few minutes a

-small crowd had congregated.

-

-"What has happened?" inquired an imperious voice from the interior of

-the carriage. "Is any one injured?"

-

-"A little girl," answered the policeman. "I think she's more frightened

-than hurt, though," he added, as he set Peggy on the ground, and Billy,

-pale and frightened, rushed to her side.

-

-"Was my coachman at fault?" was the next question.

-

-"No, ma'am. He was driving carefully, and had the horses under proper

-control; but—"

-

-"That's all I want to know, thank you."

-

-A head was thrust out of the carriage window, and the crowd saw the

-face—a haughty, handsome face it was—of a white-haired old lady, who

-beckoned to the policeman to approach, which he did.

-

-"You had better take the little girl to a hospital, if she is hurt,"

-the old lady said, in a tone which expressed neither interest nor

-sympathy. "I suppose that would be your duty? Well, you know your

-business; it is none of mine, as my servant, you assure me, is

-blameless. However, here is my card should you require to communicate

-with me."

-

-The handsome old face drew back from the window, and the carriage was

-driven away, whilst the crowd dispersed, leaving only the policeman and

-one other—an elderly clergyman, who had come upon the scene after the

-accident—with the frightened children.

-

-"Where are you hurt, my dear little girl?"

-

-Peggy's shocked face brightened at the sound of the kindly voice, which

-she recognised immediately as belonging to Mr. Maloney, the Vicar of

-St. John's Church, where her father was the organist.

-

-"It's my shoulder," she answered. "Oh, Mr. Maloney, do please take me

-home!"

-

-"Of course I will, my dear," he responded promptly, with a reassuring

-nod and smile at Billy. "What happened?" he inquired of the policeman,

-who briefly explained, adding that no one had been in fault.

-

-"Billy couldn't have helped it," Peggy said hastily, fearful lest blame

-should be attached to her brother.

-

-"No, the little boy was not to blame," agreed the policeman. "Are you

-going to take charge of the children, sir?" he asked of the clergyman.

-

-"Yes. I know them well; their father is Mr. Pringle, the organist of

-St. John's Church. What is this?" Mr. Maloney questioned as he took the

-card the policeman presented to him.

-

-"The lady in the carriage gave it to me, sir. I have made a note of the

-name and the address. Maybe the little girl's father will make some

-claim—"

-

-"I imagine not," interposed the clergyman quickly; "but I will take the

-card and give it to Mr. Pringle. Thank you,"—and he slipped the bit of

-pasteboard into his vest pocket.

-

-"Oh, Billy, I dropped the buns!" exclaimed Peggy regretfully. They had

-no money to buy more, and the buns had been purchased for a treat.

-

-"The horses trod on them," Billy replied; "but, never mind, mother

-won't think anything about them when she knows what's happened. I'm

-afraid she'll never trust you out alone with me any more."

-

-The little girl made no response. The pain in her shoulder was making

-her feel sick and faint, and her legs trembled as she walked along by

-Mr. Maloney's side, her hand in his. He saw she was suffering, and

-regarded her with compassionate eyes, whilst he exchanged remarks

-with Billy. Soon she began to lose the drift of her companions'

-conversation, and when at length, home—a small house, one of a

-terrace—was reached, the shock she had received proved too much for

-her, and she fell insensible into her mother's arms.

-

-When Peggy regained consciousness, she found herself undressed and

-in bed. Everything was very quiet, but she was aware of some one's

-presence, and it was no surprise when soft lips met hers in a loving

-kiss, and her mother's voice said, "You are better, Peggy dear."

-

-Then she was gently raised in bed, and, to her astonishment, she found

-her shoulder was bandaged; but she was not in much pain now, so she

-took the bread and milk offered to her, and lay down again, feeling

-strangely weak and tired, and disinclined to talk.

-

-"Sleep if you can, darling," her mother said tenderly. "You will be

-much stronger to-morrow. The doctor has attended to your poor shoulder.

-Thank God you are not more seriously hurt!"

-

-"What is the time mother?" Peggy asked. "Have you had tea? I was so

-sorry about the buns. I dropped them, you know."

-

-"Did you? As if that mattered! No, we have not had tea. We have been

-too anxious about you to think of it. Now we shall have tea and supper

-together. It is nearly seven o'clock—not quite your usual bedtime, but

-never mind that to-night. Rest will do you good. I want you to sleep."

-

-"I am very tired," Peggy murmured, "but I haven't said my prayers,

-and my head feels so funny that I can't think. I will say my 'little

-prayer' to-night.' Then she repeated very slowly and softly:

-

-   "Holy Father, cheer our way

-    With Thy love's perpetual ray:

-    Grant us every closing day

-       Light at evening time."

-

-It was a pathetic prayer, coming as it did from the lips of one who

-lived in permanent darkness. But it had been one of the first Peggy had

-learnt and she had always been very fond of it, calling it her "little

-prayer." To-night her eyelids closed as she repeated the last line, and

-a few minutes later she had fallen asleep.

-

-Mrs. Pringle remained by the bedside some while longer, tears, which

-she had repressed till now, running down her cheeks, though her heart

-was full of gratitude to Him Who had spared her child's life. She was a

-most affectionate mother, devoted to both her children; but her little

-daughter, doubtless by reason of her affliction, was always her first

-care. She shuddered as she thought what might have been the result of

-the accident that afternoon, and pictured her darling trampled beneath

-the horses' hoofs.

-

-"God gave His angels charge over her," she murmured, as she bent her

-head once more, and kissed the little sleeper. Then she stole softly

-away, and went downstairs to the sitting-room where Billy his father

-were keeping each other company, both heavy-hearted, though the doctor

-had assured them there was no cause for alarm.

-

-"How is she now?" they asked, with one accord, as she entered the room.

-

-"Sleeping peacefully," she told them, a smile lighting up her pale,

-tearful countenance. "You may go and look at her; but please be very

-careful not to disturb her. I have every hope that she will be better

-after a good rest. We have much to thank God for this night!"

-

-

-

-CHAPTER II

-

-CONCERNING AUNT CAROLINE

-

-WHEN Mr. Pringle and Billy returned to the sitting-room after having

-been upstairs to look at Peggy asleep so comfortably, they found that

-Mrs. Pringle, with the assistance of Sarah, the maid-of-all-work of the

-establishment, had prepared the long-delayed tea. Whilst the family sat

-down to the meal, Sarah, at her own suggestion, went to keep watch by

-the little sleeper; and a few minutes later there was a knock at the

-front door.

-

-"Go and see who's there, Billy," said Mr. Pringle. "I should not be

-surprised if it is Mr. Maloney," he proceeded, turning to his wife,

-"for he was very concerned about Peggy and said he hoped to look in

-by-and-by to hear the doctor's report."

-

-And Mr. Maloney the visitor proved to be. He accepted Mrs. Pringle's

-offer of a cup of tea, and took the chair Billy placed for him at the

-table.

-

-"I am glad to know the doctor thinks your little girl is not much

-hurt," he said in his pleasant voice. "Billy greeted me with the good

-news the moment he opened the door."

-

-"The only injury she has sustained is to her shoulder," replied Mr.

-Pringle, "but of course she has experienced a great shock. Her escape

-from a frightful death was quite providential," he added with a slight

-break in his voice.

-

-"Quite," Mr. Maloney agreed. "It was too bad of the owner of the

-carriage to drive on, as she did, without ascertaining the extent of

-the poor child's injuries," he continued warmly. "The least she could

-have done, under the circumstances, one would have thought, would have

-been to have driven her home."

-

-"She was a nasty old woman, I'm sure she was," declared Billy with

-flushing cheeks and sparkling eyes. "She told the policeman, he had

-better take Peggy to a hospital if she was hurt, and she said it was

-his business, not hers. She spoke in such a proud way—as though she

-didn't care for anything or any one."

-

-"Well, Peggy found a friend in need," Mr. Pringle remarked with a

-grateful glance at Mr. Maloney, who smiled and said he was glad to have

-been of service.

-

-The Vicar and the organist of St. John's were on terms of friendship,

-though the former was elderly and the latter not middle-aged. Mr.

-Maloney had lived most of his life in London. He was a hard worker,

-and much beloved by all who knew him. But some of his acquaintances

-declared him lacking in ambition, for on several occasions he had

-declined preferment, choosing to retain the living of St. John's, which

-he had held for more than twenty years. He was an unmarried man, and

-consequently the living, though a poor one, supplied his simple needs.

-

-He was getting an old man now, but the bright, unquenchable light of

-that enthusiasm which had made him a faithful labourer in Christ's

-vineyard all his days still shone in his earnest, deep-set eyes, and

-earnestness was stamped indelibly upon his countenance. And the truth

-was that his ambition soared far and away beyond the worldly meaning of

-the term: he was working for the "Well done" of the Master for Whose

-sake he had elected to live amongst those of little account in this

-world.

-

-Mr. Pringle had been the organist of St. John's since his marriage ten

-years previously. He was a tall, fair man with a thoughtful face and

-clear blue eyes. Peggy much resembled him; whilst Billy took after his

-mother in appearance, being brown-haired and brown-eyed. The Pringles

-were a very united family, and theirs was a happy home though it was

-a rather poor one, and Mr. Pringle was glad to add to his salary by

-taking music pupils.

-

-"I did not see the owner of the carriage," Mr. Maloney remarked

-by-and-by, after they had discussed Peggy's accident at some length.

-"Why, dear me, how stupid of me!" he exclaimed, a sudden recollection

-crossing his mind. "I have her card in my pocket here! She gave it

-to the policeman, who, in his turn, gave it to me, thinking that you

-might be inclined to seek redress from her for poor Peggy's injuries, I

-believe. Let us see who the unsympathetic old lady is."

-

-He had produced the card by this time, and now handed it to Mrs.

-Pringle, who glanced at it, uttered a cry of astonishment, and grew

-very red.

-

-"You know her?" Mr. Maloney inquired.

-

-"Yes," she replied in a low tone, "I do. I can understand that she

-evinced no interest—though she could not have known whose child Peggy

-was."

-

-She passed the card to her husband as she spoke.

-

-A brief silence followed, during which Billy, keenly observant, noticed

-that his mother was trembling, and that his father's face had grown

-very stern.

-

-"Who is the lady, father?" he ventured to ask at length.

-

-"She is called Miss Leighton," was the answer. "You never heard of her,

-Billy; but I expect you have?" he said, addressing Mr. Maloney.

-

-"I think not," the Vicar responded. "Is she a person of importance?"

-

-"She is a very rich woman. Her father was James Leighton, the great

-ironfounder who died so immensely wealthy—"

-

-"Ah, then I have heard of her," Mr. Maloney broke in. "But I thought

-she was quite a philanthropist—hardly the sort of woman who would act

-as this Miss Leighton did to-day."

-

-"That is exactly how she would act," Mrs. Pringle said decidedly. "We

-are speaking of the same person. She gives away vast amounts of money

-yearly to charities, but she denies herself nothing in order to do so,

-for she is very wealthy. She was never a woman who showed kindness in

-little ways or to individuals. I know her well; in fact, she is my

-aunt."

-

-"Really?" the Vicar said, looking intensely astonished. He knew the

-Pringles were not well off—that they lived solely on Mr. Pringle's

-earnings, and it seemed odd that so rich and charitable a lady as Miss

-Leighton should do so much for strangers and nothing for her relations.

-

-"The truth is, my wife offended her aunt by marrying me," Mr. Pringle

-explained, rightly reading the expression of Mr. Maloney's countenance;

-"and Miss Leighton never forgives any one who offends her."

-

-"Then God help her!" the Vicar exclaimed solemnly.

-

-"Yes," said Mrs. Pringle, sighing, "poor Aunt Caroline! She was very

-good to me years ago, she had me educated when my parents died, and

-afterwards she allowed me to live with her. She would have continued

-to provide for me, if I had not become engaged to John," glancing at

-her husband with a loving smile. "I had to choose between him and Aunt

-Caroline, and since my marriage I have never seen my aunt. 'She washed

-her hands of me,' she said, on my wedding day. She declared she would

-never willingly look on my face again, and I know she will keep her

-word."

-

-"You can realise now what sacrifices my wife has made for my sake," Mr.

-Pringle said, rather sadly, as he met Mr. Maloney's interested glance.

-

-"I have made no sacrifices," Mrs. Pringle returned quickly. "But,

-sometimes it grieves me to think of the bitter feelings Aunt Caroline

-harbours against me. She considers me ungrateful; I was never that. I

-do not want her money, but I should like to be on friendly terms with

-her. It was ten years ago I saw her; she must be getting an old woman."

-

-"She looked very old, mother," Billy said, and as he spoke, Mrs.

-Pringle started, for in the excitement of talking of her aunt, whom she

-rarely mentioned now even to her husband, she had forgotten the boy was

-present, listening to every word.

-

-"Her hair was quite white," he continued, "as white as snow. I didn't

-like her eyes, they were so very sharp. Oh, mother, how odd that she

-should be your aunt! And how surprised she would have been, if she had

-found out that Peggy was your little girl, wouldn't she? I expect she

-would have been sorry for her, then, don't you think so?"

-

-"I—I—perhaps so," his mother replied, "but she did not find out, and it

-was best as it was."

-

-She took up the card which her husband had laid on the table and tore

-it into little bits, which, upon rising, she threw into the fire.

-

-"There, we will talk no more of Aunt Caroline," she said. "Thinking of

-her always makes me unhappy, and I don't want to be that to-night, when

-I ought to be feeling nothing but thankfulness on Peggy's account."

-

-A short while later, Mr. Maloney took his departure, and, after that,

-Billy said good-night to his parents and went upstairs. He peeped into

-Peggy's room; but did not go in, for Sarah, who was still watching by

-the bedside, raised a warning finger when she caught sight of him in

-the doorway. She was to be relieved from her post very soon by her

-mistress, whose intention it was to sit up all night.

-

-Although Billy was really tired and was soon in bed, it was long before

-he could get to sleep, for he felt strangely restless and excited; he

-continually pictured the pair of high-stepping horses which had so

-nearly trodden his sister beneath their hoofs, and he was haunted by

-the proud face of the old lady who had appeared so unconcerned.

-

-"She must be very wicked," thought the little boy, "for father said she

-never forgives any one who offends her. How dreadful that is! Doesn't

-she know it's wrong, I wonder! And, oh, how strange that she should be

-mother's aunt! How surprised Peggy will be when she knows!"

-

-Then he forgot Miss Leighton in thinking of Peggy once more. He had not

-omitted to thank his Father in Heaven, as he had knelt by his bedside

-before getting into bed, for having spared his sister's life; but

-his full heart thanked Him again and again as he lay awake mentally

-reviewing the events of the last few hours, and he fell asleep, at

-length, with the fervent prayer upon his lips:

-

-   "Dear Jesus, please always take care of Peggy, and remember she is

-blind."

-

-

-

-CHAPTER III

-

-THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION

-

-A MONTH had elapsed since Peggy's accident, and the little girl, though

-about again, had not recovered her usual health and spirits. Her mother

-watched her with loving solicitude, noting how shattered her nerves

-seemed to be, for she started at any sudden sound and dreaded being

-left alone. The doctor pronounced her to be suffering from the effects

-of the shock to her nervous system, prescribed a complete change of

-air, and said time would work a cure.

-

-"How can we send her away for a change?" Mrs. Pringle asked her husband

-despairingly. "It is impossible."

-

-"I wish you could take her to the seaside for a few weeks, Margaret,"

-Mr. Pringle responded, looking much troubled. "But I really do not see

-how it can be managed—where the money is to come from, I mean."

-

-"Never mind, father," Peggy said quickly, "I am sure I shall be well

-soon. I am a lot better, really."

-

-"Do you feel so, darling?" he questioned, as he drew her towards him,

-and anxiously scrutinised her face.

-

-Then, as she assured him she did, he kissed her gently, an expression

-of deep pain and regret on his own countenance.

-

-It grieved Mr. Pringle that he could not afford his little daughter

-the change of air which the doctor had prescribed, and he went off to

-give a music lesson with a very heavy heart. When he returned, an hour

-later, upon opening the front door the sound of a man's hearty laugh

-fell upon his ears, and almost immediately Peggy, with a flush of

-excitement on her cheeks, came out of the sitting-room, her sensitive

-ears having warned her of his arrival, and whispered:

-

-"Oh, father, we've a visitor! Guess who it is. But, no, you never will,

-so I may as well tell you. It's Mr. Tiddy. You remember who he is,

-don't you? The Cornish gentleman who married Miss Bates."

-

-"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Pringle, suddenly enlightened. Miss Bates had

-been a school friend of his wife's. The two had always corresponded

-regularly, though they had not met of late. Miss Bates had earned her

-living as a governess until five years previously, when she had married

-a well-to-do farmer in Cornwall.

-

-"He is a very nice man, father," Peggy continued, "and he's brought us

-a hamper full of all sorts of good things to eat—cream, and butter, and

-eggs, and a big cake, which his wife made herself, with a sugary top,

-and a couple of chickens! Do come and see him at once."

-

-Accordingly Mr. Pringle allowed his little daughter to lead him into

-the sitting-room, where the visitor was being entertained by Mrs.

-Pringle and Billy, and after a few minutes' conversation with him, he

-mentally agreed with Peggy that this new acquaintance was a very nice

-man.

-

-Ebenezer Tiddy was a thorough countryman in appearance, being clad

-in a tweed suit, and boots which had evidently been made to keep out

-inches deep of mud. He was tall and vigorous, with a ruddy, kindly

-countenance, and steady grey eyes which looked one straight in the

-face. He had entered the house a complete stranger half an hour before,

-but already the children were at their ease with him, and Mrs. Pringle

-was looking decidedly more cheerful than when her husband had left her

-after their conversation about the doctor's prescription. Mr. Pringle

-felt glad Mr. Tiddy had come, since his presence had evidently proved

-exhilarating.

-

-"I arrived in town last night," the visitor explained, "and the first

-thing this morning I said to myself, 'I'd better execute my wife's

-business before I attend to my own.' And now you're here, Mr. Pringle,

-I'll speak of the real object of my visit. Said my wife to me one day

-last week, 'Ebenezer, how I should like to have little Peggy Pringle

-to stay with us for a while! Her mother has written to me that she met

-with an accident and doesn't seem to pick up after it as she ought. I

-believe a change of air would be the best medicine for her now.'"

-

-Here Mr. Tiddy paused, and looked at Peggy, who, sensitive like all

-blind people, was fully conscious of his gaze.

-

-"Oh, Mr. Tiddy!" she exclaimed. "And—what did you say?"

-

-"That she'd better write and invite you to visit us at once, my dear,

-believing, as I do, that Cornish breezes and Cornish living would

-make you strong in no time. 'But she can't travel alone,' said my

-wife, who is quicker of thought than I am, 'and how are we to get her

-here, Ebenezer?' 'That can be easily managed,' I replied; 'when I go

-to London next week to interview the florist who is going to buy our

-flowers this spring, I'll ask her parents to trust her to me.' And

-if they will," concluded Mr. Tiddy, looking smilingly first at Mrs.

-Pringle, then at her husband, "I am sure I shall be very pleased and

-proud, and my wife and myself will do our best to make her visit a

-happy one. The little maid won't have any children for playmates, but

-I don't think she'll be dull, for there's always something or other to

-interest folks at a farm, and I need hardly say we'll take good care of

-her."

-

-"How kind you are!" Mrs. Pringle exclaimed, her face alight with

-pleasure, "Peggy does indeed need a change very badly, and we have been

-bemoaning the fact that we could not give her one. I am sure she would

-be quite happy with you and your wife."

-

-"I remember Miss Bates," said Peggy. "She stayed with us once when I

-was a little girl."

-

-"And what are you now, pray?" asked Mr. Tiddy, highly amused. "A big

-girl, eh?"

-

-"I am nine years old," she answered, in a dignified tone. "But I am not

-very tall for my age."

-

-"Cornish air will make you grow. Will you make up your mind, then, to

-travel westwards with me? Would your brother care to come too?"

-

-"Billy goes to school, and it is the middle of the term," Mrs. Pringle

-explained; "being Saturday, it is the weekly holiday: that is why you

-find him at home now. You are very kind to give him an invitation, but

-he knows he must not neglect his work."

-

-"He must pay us a visit in his summer holidays, then," said Mr. Tiddy,

-sympathising with the disappointment he read in the little boy's face.

-"I shall not forget. And now, Mrs. Pringle, do you think you can part

-with your little maid on Tuesday? I hope to return to Cornwall as soon

-as that. I only require one clear day in town to transact my business."

-

-"Peggy can be ready by Tuesday," Mrs. Pringle answered, after a few

-moments' reflection, whilst Peggy herself felt quite bewildered by the

-suddenness with which everything was being arranged.

-

-"Come and spend to-morrow with us," suggested Mr. Pringle hospitably,

-"that is, if you have made no previous engagement."

-

-"I have not. Thank you, I shall be delighted to come," answered Mr.

-Tiddy, his countenance beaming with pleasure. "I have heard so much of

-you all from my wife that I can't fancy you were strangers to me till

-this last hour."

-

-When at length he took his departure, which was after a little further

-conversation, he seemed quite an old friend, and the children were

-pleased and excited at the prospect of his visit on the morrow.

-

-"It is as though a load has been lifted off my shoulders," Mr. Pringle

-confessed, as he returned to the sitting-room after having said

-good-bye to Mr. Tiddy at the front door. He sat down in an arm-chair

-as he spoke, and his little daughter took a stool at his feet and

-rested her golden head against his knee. "It seems so marvellous this

-invitation should have come for Peggy just at this very time," he

-proceeded earnestly, "when it seemed utterly impossible to carry out

-the doctor's prescription. Surely God must have prompted Mr. Tiddy to

-come to us to-day."

-

-"Yes, and there's no one I would so gladly entrust Peggy to as my old

-friend," Mrs. Pringle answered contentedly. "You're pleased you're

-going, are you not, Peggy?" she questioned, noticing a faint shadow on

-her little daughter's face.

-

-"Y-e-s," was the response, given a trifle doubtfully. The thought of

-a visit to Cornwall had filled Peggy with a transport of delight at

-first; but now, she had had time to reflect that she would have no

-mother and father and Billy with her, and she had never been parted

-from them before. "I shall miss you all so much," she murmured with

-quivering lips, "and Cornwall is so far away."

-

-"We shall miss you, little Sunbeam," her father assured her as he

-softly stroked her curly hair, "but we are glad you are going, because

-we want you to get well and strong. I believe you will have a most

-enjoyable time, and, of one thing I am quite certain, that both Mr. and

-Mrs. Tiddy will be kindness itself. I only hope they won't spoil you

-and want to keep you altogether."

-

-"I shouldn't stay, if they did," Peggy returned, half indignant at the

-suggestion. "And—and I'm beginning to wish I wasn't going at all."

-

-She lay awake a long while that night, crying at the thought of the

-coming separation from her family, but she did not admit it the next

-morning.

-

-Mr. Tiddy spent Sunday with his new friends as had been arranged, and

-in the evening he accompanied them to St. John's. After the service, he

-waited with Mrs. Pringle and the children to hear the voluntary. It was

-"The Heavens are telling," which Mr. Pringle played at his visitor's

-request.

-

-"Did you like it, Mr. Tiddy?" Peggy whispered at the conclusion of the

-piece as they passed out of the church.

-

-"Yes, I liked it," he answered earnestly. "Your father plays the organ

-beautifully. 'The Heavens are telling the glory of God!' So they do,

-don't they?" They were in the street by now, Peggy's hand in the firm

-clasp of her new friend. "I can't tell how folks can prefer to live in

-town," he proceeded. "Give me the country and plenty of fresh air. Ah,

-my dear, I'll show you some rare sights in Cornwall—"

-

-"You forget," interposed Peggy, "I cannot see."

-

-"Poor dear!" he said softly. "How thoughtless of me to forget!"

-

-"Does it seem to you very dreadful to be blind?" she asked, catching

-the tone of tender sympathy in his deep voice.

-

-Then, as he hesitated what answer to make, she continued:

-

-"You know, I shall never see as long as I live, but I think I shall get

-on very well. Mother says I am very useful in the house. I am learning

-to do lots of things—to play the piano and to knit, and father says, if

-he had more money—Oh, here are the others!" And she suddenly broke off.

-

-That was the first occasion on which Peggy had been to church since her

-accident. Her mother had been doubtful about taking her to-night, and

-had wanted to leave her at home with Sarah for her companion. But the

-little girl had begged to be allowed to go, and had gained her own way,

-and the service had had a beneficial effect upon her, having soothed

-her nerves instead of having excited them. She slept well that night,

-and the next day was spent in making preparations for her visit, and

-passed so busily that when bedtime came again, she was too weary to lie

-awake thinking of the parting from all those who made up her little

-world, which was so near at hand.

-

-She was called early on the following morning, and after breakfast—of

-which she partook but little—and a somewhat tearful good-bye to Billy

-and Sarah, she drove off in a cab with her parents to Paddington

-railway station, where she was consigned to the care of Mr. Tiddy, who

-had already selected a comfortable carriage and procured a foot-warmer

-for his little charge.

-

-"Good-bye, Peggy, darling," whispered her mother, as the guard bustled

-by requesting people to take their places. "God bless and protect you,

-dear."

-

-"Good-bye, little Sunbeam," said her father cheerily, as he lifted her

-into the carriage and wrapped her up in a rug. "We shall expect you to

-come back well and strong."

-

-"Yes," murmured Peggy, bravely smiling. "Good-bye—oh, good-bye!"

-

-

-

-CHAPTER IV

-

-PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY

-

-ON a certain bright March morning, Mrs. Tiddy stood beneath the

-creeper-covered porch at the front door of Lower Brimley Farm, waiting

-for her husband, who had been up and out-of-doors since daybreak, to

-return to breakfast. Mr. Tiddy had arrived home from London on the

-previous evening, having brought Peggy Pringle with him. But the little

-girl, over-tired as the result of the long journey, had been sleeping

-firmly when her hostess had visited her bedroom half an hour before,

-and orders had been given that she was not to be awakened.

-

-The mistress of Lower Brimley was a small-sized woman with a trim

-figure and a pleasant countenance, which wore a very contented

-expression at the present moment. The view over which Mrs. Tiddy's blue

-eyes wandered admiringly was a most beautiful one, for Lower Brimley

-was situated on the slope of a hill, not ten minutes' walk from the sea

-and the small fishing village which straggled in one steep street from

-the beach to the old grey church on the cliff.

-

-The soft air was sweet with the scent of flowers on this sunny spring

-morning, for the land close by was given up to the cultivation of

-daffodils and narcissi of nearly every species, which flourished in the

-rich moist soil and were now in full bloom, and the garden in front of

-the house was a fine show, too, with violets, hyacinths, and purple

-and scarlet anemones, against a background of rhododendron bushes. In

-short, there was a wealth of flowers everywhere; and as Mrs. Tiddy's

-contemplative gaze roamed over her own domain to the distant sea,

-glimmering like silver in the bright sunshine, it was caught and held

-by the golden furze on the cliffs, and she murmured admiringly:

-

-"What a glorious sight! And to think that that dear child will never

-know how beautiful it all is! How sad to be blind!"

-

-An expression of deep regret crossed Mrs. Tiddy's face as she thought

-of her little visitor; but it gave place to a bright smile as she

-caught sight of her husband approaching. And she ran down the path

-to the garden gate to meet him, anxious to hear that he had found

-everything on the farm in good order. She was soon satisfied upon

-that point, for he was in high spirits, and complimented her upon

-her management during his absence. And then they went into the

-house together, and sat down to breakfast in the parlour, a large

-comfortably-furnished room, the windows of which commanded a view of

-the village and the sea.

-

-"And how is my fellow-traveller?" Mr. Tiddy inquired by-and-by.

-

-"She was sleeping firmly half an hour ago and I have given orders that

-she is not to be disturbed," his wife-responded. "She was so very tired

-last night, and I fancy she felt home-sick—poor little soul! She has

-never been away from her own people before, you see, and oh, Ebenezer,

-think how helpless one must feel to be always in darkness!"

-

-"Yes," he agreed, "but though she has been denied sight, her other

-senses seem preternaturally keen. It's always the way with blind

-people, I've heard. And—why, here she comes!"

-

-Mr. Tiddy rose as the door opened, and Peggy stood hesitating upon the

-threshold of the room. Going to her side, he gave her a hearty kiss,

-inquired how she was this morning, and, having been assured that she

-was quite well, led her to his wife.

-

-"I thought you were still in bed and asleep, my dear child," said Mrs.

-Tiddy, her voice expressing the surprise she felt.

-

-"I woke up, and I was afraid I was late for breakfast, so I dressed as

-quickly as I could and came down," Peggy explained, as she returned

-Mrs. Tiddy's kiss and took the chair by her side.

-

-"How clever of you to find your way alone!"

-

-"Clever!" laughed Peggy. "You forget I had my supper in this room last

-night, and I heard your voices as I came downstairs. What a lovely

-morning, isn't it? I smelt violets and hyacinths when I opened my

-bedroom window, and I heard the sea."

-

-"The sea is very calm to-day, almost as still as a mill-pond," remarked

-Mr. Tiddy somewhat dubiously. "You must have very sharp ears, if you

-heard it."

-

-"Oh, but I did," persisted Peggy. "The waves were whispering ever so

-softly, but I heard them. I was never at the seaside but once before,

-when we all went to Bournemouth for a week, nearly two years ago."

-

-The little girl was looking very bright this morning, and she did full

-justice to the fried bacon and chopped potatoes to which Mr. Tiddy

-helped her, remarking, as he did so, that he hoped she could enjoy

-country fare. And at the conclusion of the meal, he suggested that she

-should put on her hat and jacket and go for a stroll with him about the

-farm, whilst his wife attended to her domestic duties in the house.

-

-Accordingly, Peggy accompanied her host out into the brilliant spring

-sunshine, and asked him numerous questions about his flowers. He

-explained all about their cultivation, and watched her with keenly

-interested eyes as she felt the various blooms with her sensitive

-fingers.

-

-"I shall remember all you have told me," she declared. "This is a

-'Princess Mary,' is it not? And this is the daffodil you said the

-country people call 'butter and eggs'?"

-

-"Yes!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "But how can you possibly tell?"

-

-"I can feel the difference, Mr. Tiddy, and I can smell. It seems to me

-all these daffodils have different scents."

-

-"To me, they are alike," he admitted, "but I suppose they are not.

-Really, Peggy, you are a very clever little girl."

-

-When they returned to the house they went by the back way, where,

-in the yard, they were met by a big, black-and-white smooth-haired

-sheep-dog, who sniffed at Peggy suspiciously at first. But when she

-ventured to extend her hand to him, he licked it with his great pink

-tongue, whilst a very soft expression crept into his amber eyes.

-

-"He likes you, my dear," Mr. Tiddy said. "And he does not take to every

-one, let me tell you. He evidently intends to regard you as a friend."

-

-"What is his name?" Peggy inquired, as she passed her hand over the

-dog's sleek head.

-

-"Wolf. We gave him the name when he was a puppy, because he was such a

-lean, fierce-looking creature. He is a splendid house-dog; but he is

-not very sociable, as a rule. He seems to have taken a fancy to you,

-however."

-

-"He knows I like him," Peggy said, as she caressed her new

-acquaintance, who continued to wag his tail amicably. "What a tall dog

-he is! Wolf—dear old Wolf!"

-

-The animal gave a delighted cry, and Mr. Tiddy nodded his head

-approvingly.

-

-"I'm glad he's taken to you," he said. "For you couldn't get a better

-protector than Wolf."

-

-Peggy never forgot that first day at Lower Brimley. The afternoon she

-passed quietly in the house with Mrs. Tiddy, who wrote a long letter to

-her old school fellow in which were many messages from Peggy.

-

-"Tell her how much I miss them all," said the little girl. "But please

-say, too, that I am sure I shall be very happy here, because every one

-is so kind to me, and it is a lovely, lovely place! And, please don't

-forget to send my dear love!" And for a few minutes, her blue eyes were

-full of tears.

-

-"Peggy," said Mrs. Tiddy by-and-by, "I have heard all the details in

-connection with your accident from my husband, and I do not wonder it

-was a shock to your nerves. Is your shoulder quite well now, dear?"

-

-"Oh, yes, Mrs. Tiddy. It got well very quickly. Every one said it was

-a wonder I was not killed; but I think myself God took especial care

-of me, because He knew I wasn't quite like other people—not being able

-to see, you know. Mr. Maloney—that's the Vicar of St. John's—thinks so

-too. Wasn't it strange that it should have been mother's aunt who was

-in the carriage?"

-

-"Very. Your mother never sees her Aunt Caroline, does she?"

-

-"Never. Do you know her, Mrs. Tiddy?"

-

-"No, though, of course, I have heard a good bit about her from your

-mother."

-

-"Billy and I never heard of her at all till my accident. I don't think

-she can be nice; and Billy said she looked very proud. I heard her

-speak, but I was too frightened then to take much notice of her voice.

-I always tell what people are like by their voices."

-

-"Do you, my dear?"

-

-"Yes," Peggy nodded. "I knew Mr. Tiddy was good and kind, the moment I

-heard him speak: I felt I could trust him. Do you know, I quite enjoyed

-the journey yesterday, after we had properly started. Of course, I

-didn't like saying good-bye to mother and father. I had never been in a

-corridor-train before, and we had dinner at a big table just as though

-we were in a proper room, and there was a kitchen on the train, and

-cooks. Oh, how Billy would have liked to have been there! What a lot I

-shall have to tell him when I go home! Oh, Mrs. Tiddy, it was kind of

-you to think of inviting me to stay with you!"

-

-"I am sure your visit will be a great pleasure to me, my dear," Mrs.

-Tiddy replied cordially. "And I shall be well content, if I can send

-you home with roses in your cheeks. To-morrow I will take you into the

-village and down to the beach; but I must not let you do too much on

-your first day. There, I have finished my letter, and can now have an

-idle hour before tea."

-

-She put aside her writing materials as she spoke, and went to the

-window, where Peggy was seated, listening to the sparrows twittering

-beneath the eaves of the roof and the sound of children's voices wafted

-upwards from the village below.

-

-"You and Mr. Tiddy are so very kind to take so much trouble to explain

-everything to me," the little girl said, with a grateful ring in her

-sweet, clear voice, "that I am already beginning to know this place

-quite well—the house and the grounds, too."

-

-"Shall I tell you what I see from this window?" asked Mrs. Tiddy.

-

-"Oh, please!" Peggy answered delightedly. Then as her kind hostess

-did so, she listened with attention, her face aglow with interest and

-pleasure. "How well you make me understand!" she cried, as Mrs. Tiddy

-ceased speaking. She leaned her head out of the open window and sniffed

-the fresh salt breeze appreciatively, and listened to the murmur of the

-sea. It seemed a very beautiful world to Peggy in spite of her lack of

-sight.

-

-

-

-CHAPTER V

-

-AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR

-

-IN a very few days, Peggy had settled into the routine of life at Lower

-Brimley, and had become well known by sight to the villagers, who took

-a kindly interest in Mrs. Tiddy's guest—"the pretty little maid," as

-they called her, who, though she was blind, could play the piano, so

-the servants at the farm reported, and was so clever that wherever she

-went once she could go by herself a second time.

-

-Accompanied by the lean, long-legged sheep-dog, she was now a familiar

-figure on the beach, where she would sit for hours, listening to the

-incessant murmur of the sea or talking to the fishermen, whose deep

-voices insensibly softened in addressing her. For nowhere so much as in

-Cornwall is more respect shown to those whom God has afflicted; and,

-though Peggy knew it not, she was continually watched by friendly eyes

-to see that she came to no harm.

-

-Mrs. Tiddy, who had been nervous about letting her visitor wander out

-of her sight at first, soon grew less vigilant, and was quite satisfied

-if she knew Wolf was with her, for the dog had constituted himself

-her faithful companion, and showed marked signs of jealousy, if any

-stranger came near her.

-

-One afternoon, about a week after her arrival at Lower Brimley, Peggy

-was standing in a gateway waiting for Mr. Tiddy, who had gone across

-a meadow to look at some sheep, when Wolf, as usual at her side, gave

-a low, warning growl and drew closer to her. She put her hand on the

-dog's collar and listened, hearing at length the sound of footsteps

-slowly approaching. Some one was evidently ascending the hill which led

-from the village to the farm.

-

-After that one growl, Wolf remained silent, and Peggy did not move as

-the footsteps drew near. But when they suddenly stopped, the little

-girl, still holding the dog by the collar, turned her face, with an

-inquiring expression upon it, towards the spot where she knew some

-one—a woman, she thought, from the sound of the footsteps—to be.

-

-"Can you tell me, if this is the way to Lower Brimley Farm?" asked a

-somewhat patronising voice—the voice of a lady, Peggy's sharp ears

-informed her at once.

-

-"Yes," the little girl answered. "You will come within sight of the

-house, I know, when you turn the next corner. Are you going to call on

-Mrs. Tiddy? Perhaps you are a friend of hers? She is not at home; she

-has driven in to Penzance."

-

-"And I have driven from Penzance. But I have no acquaintance with Mrs.

-Tiddy—the mistress at the farm, I presume? I have no desire to see

-her, but I want to have a look at her flowers. I am told the daffodils

-and narcissi at Lower Brimley are especially fine. People talk so much

-nowadays of the flower-farms of Cornwall that I am curious to see one."

-

-The speaker—a tall, thin, erect old lady, with snow-white hair and

-very sharp dark eyes, looked carelessly at the child, and proceeded to

-question her: "Do you live here? Are you the farmer's daughter?"

-

-"No; I am no relation to either Mr. or Mrs. Tiddy, although they are

-so very kind to me," Peggy answered simply. "My home is in London;

-I am only here on a visit. I am sure Mr. Tiddy will let you look at

-his flowers; he is very proud of them, and no wonder, for they are so

-beautiful! He has gone across the meadow, but he will return directly.

-Perhaps you can see him?"

-

-"Do you mean that big man in breeches and leggings?"

-

-"Yes, that's Mr. Tiddy. I promised to wait here with Wolf—that's the

-dog—till he came back. Is he far off? Is he coming this way?"

-

-"Cannot you use your eyes, child?" began the lady, a trifle

-impatiently. Then she paused abruptly, and scanned the little girl's

-face with keener scrutiny.

-

-"I cannot see," Peggy responded, "because I am blind."

-

-"Blind! How shocking!"

-

-The stranger's voice had softened perceptibly, and sounded no longer

-indifferent. Peggy, conscious of the change, smiled, and a faint colour

-rose to her pale cheeks as she remarked:

-

-"Every one is surprised to hear I am blind, but it is quite true."

-

-"And have you been blind long?"

-

-"All my life."

-

-"And yet you look happy!" was the wondering exclamation.

-

-"I am very happy. Mother says I must always remember how many blessings

-God has given me, and so I do. Oh, here is Mr. Tiddy!" the little girl

-cried, with a sudden change of tone.

-

-The farmer came up, glancing curiously at Peggy's companion, who now

-put forward a request—it sounded almost like a command—to see his

-flowers, adding that she had come from Penzance on purpose to look at

-them, and had left her carriage at the foot of the hill.

-

-"You are just in time to see them at their best," Mr. Tiddy told her

-pleasantly. "In another week, I shall have cut them all: we rear them

-for the London markets. Lead the way, Peggy. A little friend of ours

-from town," he explained, lowering his voice as the child and the dog

-went on ahead. "She's been laid up ill and hasn't picked up her health

-and spirits yet. We're trying what our Cornish air will do for her."

-

-"I trust it will do wonders," said the lady, and her voice, though

-still cold in tone, was not ungracious. "She looks a delicate child,

-and she tells me, she is blind."

-

-"Ah, yes, poor dear," sighed Mr. Tiddy. "Though I don't know why I

-should pity her," he proceeded, "for she's as happy as the day is

-long. Her father—he's the organist of St. John's in the East End of

-London—calls her 'little Sunbeam,' and the name just suits her. Her

-mother and my wife were school friends, and—but here we are!"

-

-The stranger was evidently much gratified by the sight of the flowers,

-and she was greatly impressed by the knowledge Peggy evinced concerning

-them. And the more she conversed with Mr. Tiddy, the more gracious her

-manner became, till by-and-by she asked him if there were comfortable

-lodgings to be had in the neighbourhood.

-

-"There's a farm higher up the hill, the adjoining farm to this, Higher

-Brimley it's called—where they let apartments during the summer

-months," he replied. "I expect they'd consider themselves fortunate, if

-they obtained a lodger as early in the year as this. Ford, the people

-are called, and Mrs. Ford is a nice, respectable woman who'd make you

-very comfortable."

-

-"You never take lodgers here?" the stranger inquired hesitatingly.

-

-"Never," was the decisive answer. "My wife has plenty of work to do in

-connection with the poultry and the dairy, and—to be plain—we like our

-home to ourselves."

-

-When the lady had gazed her fill at the daffodils, Mr. Tiddy led the

-way into the garden, which she declared to be her idea of what a

-country garden should be. The kindly farmer, pleased at her admiration

-for his belongings, thereupon invited her into the house, and had tea

-brought into the parlour. "I wish my wife was at home," he observed

-regretfully, "but Peggy must play hostess in her place."

-

-"And a very nice little hostess she makes," replied the old lady, her

-curious gaze upon the child, who was offering her some of Mrs. Tiddy's

-home-made cake. "Do you always treat strangers as you are treating me?"

-she inquired, turning to Mr. Tiddy again. "I have heard of Cornish

-hospitality, but I never believed in it till now. You don't know

-anything about me—" She paused and laughed rather bitterly, then added:

-"Most people would not think it worth while to entertain a stranger—one

-never likely to cross their path in life again."

-

-"Then you do not mean to seek lodgings in the district?" Mr. Tiddy

-asked gravely.

-

-"I have not made up my mind on that point yet. I almost think I could

-be contented in a spot like this."

-

-Having finished her tea, she rose and prepared to depart. Mr. Tiddy now

-noted for the first time, how costly was her dress—evidently she was a

-woman rich in this world's goods—and he thought as he glanced at the

-deep lines of discontent around her hard mouth, that, in spite of her

-undeniably handsome face, she was the most ill-tempered looking old

-lady he had seen for many a long day, and doubted much if she would be

-contented anywhere.

-

-"Good-bye, child," she said stretching out her delicately-gloved hand

-to Peggy. "It is quite possible that we may meet again."

-

-"If we do, I shall remember you," was the grave response. "I shall

-remember you by your voice. And I can't help thinking that somewhere

-we have met before, or perhaps it is only that you remind me of some

-one—that must be it."

-

-The lady looked at Peggy searchingly, and shook her head. Then she went

-away, leaving the little girl in a very thoughtful frame of mind. When

-Mr. Tiddy returned, after having accompanied the stranger down the hill

-and placed her in the hired carriage in which she had been driven from

-Penzance, he asked Peggy what she thought of their late visitor.

-

-"She seemed rather unhappy, didn't she, Mr. Tiddy?" she questioned.

-

-"Unhappy?" he said, reflectively. "I don't know about that. To me she

-appeared simply discontented. She is a selfish woman, I'll be bound—so

-maybe you're right, my dear, for selfish folk are never happy—and

-wrapped up in her own concerns. But she liked my daffodils, didn't she?

-I could see she had a real love for flowers. And she was interested in

-you, too. One mustn't judge by appearances altogether—"

-

-"I judge by her voice," said Peggy, as he broke off, leaving his

-sentence unfinished.

-

-"A hard, cold voice, wasn't it?" questioned Mr. Tiddy.

-

-"Y-e-s. Was she very old, Mr. Tiddy?"

-

-"Over seventy, I should say."

-

-"That's a great age, isn't it? I wonder if she is always alone like she

-was to-day. Perhaps she has no one to love and care for her now she

-is old. How sad that must be! Poor old lady!" And there was deepest

-sympathy in her tone.

-

-Mr. Tiddy looked at the speaker with a tender smile; but he did not

-think it worth while to say that, to him, their visitor had appeared

-anything but poor. Perhaps, he reflected, the child might be right

-after all, for he knew how often those rich in worldly possessions are

-poor in heart.

-

-

-

-CHAPTER VI

-

-MISS LEIGHTON'S DISCOVERY

-

-THE daffodil blooms had all been gathered; March had given place

-to April; and, day by day, Peggy was improving in health, whilst

-roses—faint as yet, it is true—were appearing in her cheeks. The

-doctor's prescription of a change of air was evidently what she had

-needed; and Mrs. Tiddy was much gratified at being able to write most

-cheering reports of her visitor's condition to Mrs. Pringle, who read

-them aloud to her husband and Billy with deep thankfulness in her heart.

-

-"How we shall miss the child when she leaves us!" Mr. Tiddy remarked to

-his wife one evening, as they strolled up and down the path in front

-of the house when the work of the day was over, listening to the music

-which Peggy's fingers were drawing from the piano in the parlour. The

-little girl was naturally musical and had been well taught by her

-father, who had often told her that if she worked hard and practised

-industriously, she might become a real musician some day, and to be a

-real musician was her most earnest desire.

-

-"But she is not going to leave us for a long while yet," Mrs. Tiddy

-responded. "I have written and told her mother that she must spare

-her to us for another month, at least, and I think she will be glad

-to let her stay, as her health is benefiting so much by our Cornish

-air. By the way, Ebenezer, have you heard that there are lodgers at

-Higher Brimley? No? An elderly lady and her maid have taken Mrs. Ford's

-apartments. They were pointed out to me in the village this afternoon

-when Peggy and I were returning from the beach. And Peggy says she is

-sure the lady is the one who came from Penzance on purpose to look at

-our flowers. She is a tall, thin, old lady with quite white hair."

-

-"You don't say so!" exclaimed the farmer. "I told her she could get

-apartments at Higher Brimley, but I did not think she really meant to

-see about them. Did she speak to Peggy?"

-

-"No; she did not see her, for we were in the post office when she

-passed with her maid. Peggy recognised her by her voice."

-

-"I wonder who she is. You did not hear her name, I suppose?"

-

-"No. Listen! The child is singing!"

-

-They stood silently by the open window of the parlour and listened as

-the little girl's voice, low and sweet in tone, rang out clearly and

-softly:

-

-   "Holy Father, cheer our way

-    With Thy love's perpetual ray:

-    Grant us every closing day

-       Light at evening time."

-

-"Dear child," murmured Mrs. Tiddy, tears springing involuntarily to her

-eyes, "it does seem hard lines that one naturally so bright and joyous

-should be blind! But there, God knows best, and I suppose He has denied

-her sight for some good reason; and she has His love to cheer her way,

-I'm certain."

-

-"I think there's light in her heart," said Mr. Tiddy simply, and his

-wife agreed.

-

-It was on the following morning that Peggy, who had wandered down to

-the beach with Wolf in attendance, met the lodgers from Higher Brimley.

-The old lady spoke to the little girl, and inquired if she remembered

-her. And, receiving an answer in the affirmative, she dismissed her

-maid, telling her to wait within sight, and requested Peggy to sit down

-by her side on an upturned boat, and talk to her for a while.

-

-Peggy complied readily, for she was of a very sociable disposition,

-and commenced the conversation by informing her companion that she had

-recognised her voice when she had heard it on the previous day.

-

-"I was in the post office with Mrs. Tiddy when you passed," she said,

-"and you were talking. We were told you had taken Mrs. Ford's rooms."

-

-"I do not know how long I shall remain there-perhaps only a few days,

-perhaps longer. I suppose the daffodils are all gone now?"

-

-"Yes," Peggy nodded regretfully; "but there are more flowers than ever

-in the garden, and those will not be cut. Mr. Tiddy grows them for

-himself and his friends; but the daffodils and narcissi, he sells."

-

-"You are looking better than when I saw you before," observed the

-stranger. "I suppose you will be going home soon?"

-

-"Not for some weeks yet. Oh, yes, I am a lot better! I feel really

-well; and Mrs. Tiddy says I am getting quite rosy and sunburnt. I am so

-glad, because they will be pleased at home."

-

-"Are you one of a long family?"

-

-"No. I have only one brother—Billy. Father is the organist of St.

-John's, but I do not expect you know the church. Mr. Maloney is our

-Vicar. He's a great friend of ours. I'm sure you'd like him, because

-he's such a good man. Mother says he's very clever, and people come a

-long distance often to hear him preach, so I suppose he must be."

-

-"I think I've heard of him," said the old lady thoughtfully. "He gives

-up his life to working amongst the poor, does he not?"

-

-"Yes. Nearly every one in our parish is poor. Mr. Maloney is, I

-believe, and we are, you know, because father's salary isn't much,

-and his music pupils don't pay him as they ought. But father is very

-clever, too, and some day I dare say we shall be better off. Father

-composes music, and there are very few people who can do that," the

-little girl said, with a ring of affectionate pride in her voice. "Do

-you live in London, too?" she inquired, thinking it was her turn to ask

-a question now.

-

-"I have a house in town. Will you come and spend a day with me there

-when we both go back to our own homes?"

-

-"I—I hardly know," Peggy replied doubtfully, flushing with surprise.

-"It's very kind of you to invite me; but I must ask mother. I don't

-know who you are, and—"

-

-"And I don't know who you are, either! Suppose you tell me your name?"

-

-"It is Margaret Pringle; but I am always called Peggy, because father

-calls mother Margaret."

-

-"Pringle!" exclaimed the old lady, growing suddenly crimson. She looked

-almost angrily at Peggy as she spoke, but of course the little girl was

-unconscious of that fact, though she caught the sound of agitation in

-her voice. "Pringle!" she repeated. "Is it possible? Tell me, is your

-father's name John?"

-

-"Yes. You have heard of him?" Since her companion had evinced some

-knowledge of the Vicar of St. John's, it did not occur to Peggy as at

-all unlikely that she should know something of the organist too. "He

-plays most beautifully," she continued impressively. "Mr. Tiddy will

-tell you so, for he heard him one Sunday evening when he went to church

-with us. It was the first time I had been to church after my accident.

-Oh, I haven't told you about that! I was knocked down when I was out

-with Billy, and it was a great wonder that I was not killed!"

-

-And she recounted the story of her adventure at some length, utterly

-unconscious of the effect it was having upon her listener, who had lost

-all her colour again now, and was looking paler than before.

-

-"The—the person in the carriage would not have understood that you were

-blind," the old lady remarked at length, subsequent to a long pause

-which had followed the conclusion of Peggy's tale.

-

-"No, of course not," the little girl agreed, "but Mr. Maloney says

-the least she could have done would have been to have driven me home.

-Billy thinks she didn't care, if I was hurt or not. And—isn't it

-strange?—she's supposed to be a very charitable person!"

-

-"Then you know who she is?"

-

-"Oh, yes! She gave the policeman her card, and mother used to know her

-quite well—years ago."

-

-"Ah!"

-

-"I—I am afraid I have been talking too much," Peggy said hesitatingly,

-with a sudden touch of reserve in her tone as she became aware that she

-had let her tongue run away with her. She hoped she had not wearied her

-companion with her chatter.

-

-"Why did you say she—the person in the carriage, I mean—is supposed to

-be very charitable?" asked the old lady presently.

-

-"Because she gives away heaps and heaps of money," was the prompt reply.

-

-"Well, that is very generous of her, is it not?"

-

-"Yes. But I don't think she can be really charitable, if she isn't kind

-in little ways and if she's unforgiving. I asked Mr. Maloney what he

-thought."

-

-"Well? What did he say?"

-

-"He repeated that verse in the Corinthians, 'Though I bestow all my

-goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and

-have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.' He didn't say anything but

-that; but I know what he meant, don't you? But, don't let us talk about

-her any more—I am not sure that I ought to have spoken of her at all."

-

-"You have done no harm. So that accident was actually the cause of your

-illness?"

-

-"Yes. And just when the doctor said I must have a change of air, Mr.

-Tiddy arrived and invited me here. Wasn't it kind of him, and of Mrs.

-Tiddy too? You know I couldn't possibly have had a change but for them,

-for father couldn't have managed it, and it made him so dreadfully

-unhappy that he couldn't. Both he and mother were so worried about me."

-

-Soon after that the old lady rose, remarking that she found the wind a

-trifle chilly. She said good-bye to Peggy and joined her maid with the

-intention of returning to her lodgings. Left alone, the little girl

-reflected that her late companion had been decidedly less affable at

-the conclusion of their conversation, than at the commencement, and

-wondered why that had been. Had she unwittingly said anything to cause

-her annoyance? She felt puzzled and uneasy; and, though she had been

-encouraged to talk, she wished she had been less communicative.

-

-Meanwhile the old lady, who, as the reader has no doubt guessed, was

-no other than Miss Leighton, Mrs. Pringle's aunt, was walking up the

-hill towards Higher Brimley in anything but a happy frame of mind. That

-morning she had spoken of remaining some while longer in Cornwall, and

-had professed herself quite satisfied with the arrangements which had

-been made for her comfort; but now, she had almost decided to quit the

-neighbourhood at once.

-

-She had been greatly attracted by the blind child on the occasion

-of her visit from Penzance to look at Mr. Tiddy's flowers. And when

-she had caught sight of her on the beach an hour previously, she had

-determined to cultivate her acquaintance. But having learnt that Peggy

-was the daughter of the niece whom she had never forgiven for what she

-called her ingratitude, she was experiencing mingled feelings of anger,

-bitterness, and regret.

-

-"I will have no more to do with her," she thought.

-

-Then she shuddered as she reflected on the accident. How terrible it

-would have been if her horses had killed Margaret's little daughter!

-She had made no inquiries concerning her niece since her marriage and

-had not even known where she was living, or if she had any children

-or not. Therefore, it had been somewhat of a shock to discover she

-had a child who was afflicted with blindness. She pictured Peggy,

-golden-haired and sunny-faced, and an unwonted expression of tenderness

-crossed her countenance. After all, she decided, she would remain at

-Higher Brimley for the time, for—it was weak of her, no doubt—she felt

-she must see Peggy once again.

-

-

-

-CHAPTER VII

-

-A GREAT SURPRISE

-

-NOT quite a week later, Mr. Tiddy, crossing the fields in his usual

-leisurely fashion towards the house at dinner-time, caught sight of his

-wife and Peggy, standing at the garden gate, evidently waiting for him.

-As he drew near enough to see the expression of their faces, he noticed

-that both appeared excited, and as he joined them the little girl cried

-eagerly:

-

-"Oh, Mr. Tiddy, we've had a visitor! She came and knocked at the door

-and asked if she might go round the garden. And who do you think she

-was?"

-

-"Why, the old lady who's lodging at Higher Brimley, to be sure,"

-answered Mr. Tiddy promptly, evincing no surprise. "I met her this

-morning, and she stopped and spoke to me. She expressed a desire to see

-our flowers, so I told her, she'd be welcome to look at them, whenever

-she pleased. She didn't lose much time in taking me at my word," he

-concluded, smilingly.

-

-"Ah, but do you know who she is?" demanded Peggy. "No, we thought not.

-You'll be simply astounded when you hear. She didn't tell us until just

-as she was leaving, and then she said her name was Leighton, and that

-I was related to her—distantly related, she said. She's mother's Aunt

-Caroline, the rich lady who was in the carriage when—"

-

-"What!" broke in the farmer, "You don't say so!" He looked

-questioningly at his wife as he spoke, and she hastened to reply:

-

-"Yes, Ebenezer, it is true. There can be no doubt about it. She is that

-rich Miss Leighton of whom we have heard so much."

-

-"I told her who I was that day she talked to me on the beach," Peggy

-said, with face and voice full of excitement. "She asked me my name;

-and—and I told her, too, all about my accident and how unkind we

-thought it of her to have driven away when I was hurt. I think perhaps

-she was cross at what I said, but I never dreamt who she was, so I

-don't think really it was my fault, do you, Mr. Tiddy?"

-

-"No, my dear, I do not," he agreed.

-

-"Still, perhaps I ought not to have talked as I did to a stranger. She

-was very nice to-day, though, wasn't she, Mrs. Tiddy?"

-

-"Very. Will you run into the house, Peggy, and say we are ready for

-dinner?"

-

-Then as the little girl obeyed, Mrs. Tiddy turned to her husband and

-said gravely:

-

-"Ebenezer, what can have brought Miss Leighton here? Until Peggy told

-her her name the other day, she had no idea who she was or even that

-her niece had children. I don't believe she has forgiven Peggy's mother

-yet. Isn't it shocking to bear malice in one's heart so long? 'I don't

-wish to hear anything concerning your friend or her husband,' she said

-to me in a tone without an atom of feeling in it; 'but I was never one

-for visiting the sins of the parents upon the children. My niece proved

-herself ungrateful, and I regard ingratitude as a sin, but I feel no

-resentment against her innocent daughter.' I should think not indeed!

-I made no answer, however, for I was afraid, if I did, I might say too

-much."

-

-"Surely she did not make that remark before Peggy!" exclaimed Mr.

-Tiddy, his ruddy colour deepening with indignation.

-

-"No, certainly not; Peggy was not within hearing then. What shall I do?

-Miss Leighton asked me to call on her and bring Peggy with me, and I

-half promised I would; I did not like to refuse. I think the old lady

-has taken a fancy to the child. Isn't it strange that those two should

-have crossed each other's path again?"

-

-The farmer nodded, a very thoughtful expression on his face. "There's

-One above Who planned they should meet, that's my opinion," he said

-gravely; "and I don't think we ought to try to keep them apart. Maybe

-the old lady will get to feel more kindly towards her niece when she

-knows Peggy better and realises what a dear little soul she is and how

-well her mother has brought her up. I am sure Mrs. Pringle will not

-object to your taking the child to call on her aunt. By the way, does

-Miss Leighton like her lodgings?"

-

-"She said they were fairly comfortable. She strikes me as a rather

-dissatisfied body. She is anything but a happy woman, Ebenezer, though

-God has given her so much; and I hear from the servants, who have

-become friendly with her maid, that she is a very jealous, exacting

-temper, and she is always imagining people are trying to cultivate her

-acquaintance on account of her wealth."

-

-"Well, she cannot possibly imagine that about you," Mr. Tiddy replied,

-"for she has sought your acquaintance herself. I suppose we had better

-go in to dinner now. There's Peggy under the porch beckoning to us."

-

-Mrs. Tiddy decided she would not call upon Miss Leighton until she had

-mentioned the matter to her old school friend; so she wrote to her that

-same day, and received an answer by return of post. Mrs. Pringle said

-very little about her aunt in her letter, but she raised no objection

-to her little daughter's calling with Mrs. Tiddy at Higher Brimley.

-"Aunt Caroline is not fond of young people," she remarked, "so please

-don't force the child upon her notice—but I am sure you will not do

-that."

-

-"I certainly will not," Mrs. Tiddy reflected as she folded up her

-friend's letter, "but I will take Peggy to call on Miss Leighton, as

-the old lady made a point of my doing so. We need not stay very long,

-any way."

-

-Peggy experienced a feeling of unusual shyness when, one April

-afternoon, she accompanied Mrs. Tiddy to Higher Brimley; and, although

-Miss Leighton received them with every sign of cordiality, she was

-anything but at ease in her presence. As the little girl sat in silence

-listening to the conversation of the two ladies, she was aware that the

-elder's eyes were upon her, and she alternately flushed and paled as

-she thought over the small amount of information she had gleaned from

-her mother since her accident about this aunt of hers. Her tender heart

-had gone out in sympathy towards the old lady, whom she had sincerely

-pitied because she had fancied she might be all alone in the world, but

-now she mentally regarded her from quite another point of view.

-

-"Mother would have loved her, if she would have let her," she

-reflected. "It is her own fault if she is lonely. I wonder if she will

-speak of mother to me!"

-

-But Miss Leighton did not once mention her niece's name. She addressed

-herself very kindly to Peggy every now and again, and seemed wishful

-to make much of her, and Mrs. Tiddy saw she was disappointed and

-half-vexed by the child's evident disinclination to talk.

-

-"What have you done with your dog this afternoon?" Miss Leighton

-inquired, when at length her visitors rose to go.

-

-"We shut him up in the stable before we started," Peggy answered. "He

-wanted to come because he loves a walk."

-

-"He is rather quarrelsome with other dogs," Mrs. Tiddy explained, "so

-we thought it wiser to leave him at home. The poor creature was very

-disappointed, for he spends most of his time with Peggy now, and we

-always feel she is safe if Wolf is with her."

-

-"What will he do when he loses her altogether?" asked Miss Leighton.

-"Peggy does not propose taking him back with her to London, I presume?"

-

-"No," the little girl answered, accepting the question seriously, "I

-wouldn't do that, even if Mr. Tiddy would give him to me, for I am sure

-he would be wretched in town. I'd rather know he is here, guarding the

-yard and looking after the sheep, and going on as he always does—having

-such a good time! He will miss me at first, but—where is Mrs. Tiddy?"

-she asked quickly.

-

-They had left the house and were in the garden now, Mrs. Tiddy having

-lingered at the door to exchange a few words with Mrs. Ford.

-

-"She is talking to my landlady," Miss Leighton replied. "She will be

-here presently. Are you in a great hurry to go? You have no objection

-to being alone with me for a few minutes, I suppose?" she questioned

-sharply.

-

-"Oh! No!" Peggy assured her. "And—and now we are alone, I should like

-to say that I hope I wasn't rude to you the other day on the beach,"

-she proceeded, looking distressed. "I would not have spoken like that

-if—if I had known who you were. I—I have thought of it often since,

-and I am sorry if I said anything you did not like. I was afraid,

-afterwards, that you were displeased with me."

-

-"People are seldom pleased to hear others' opinions of themselves,"

-was the dry response. "You evidently considered my conduct towards you

-had been heartless; but I am not angry with you, child. You only said

-frankly what you thought."

-

-"Yes," Peggy agreed, colouring hotly in her confusion. "I am glad you

-are not angry, though, because I did not mean to be rude, and I am

-afraid I must have been," she added deprecatingly.

-

-"I think you are prejudiced against me." Miss Leighton paused

-momentarily, and sighed, then continued, "Well, it is natural you

-should be. I am sorry, nevertheless. Cannot you dismiss all you have

-heard of me from your mind and take me as you find me?"

-

-"I—I will try. I have not heard much about you, indeed! I never heard

-of you at all till after my accident! Then Billy told me who you were,

-and I was so surprised! Billy and I have often talked of you since!"

-

-"Really? I dare say you heard Mrs. Tiddy ask me to take tea with her

-one afternoon, soon? I shall hope then to hear you play. I hear you are

-quite a musician."

-

-"Oh, no! But I love music. I play to Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy every night."

-The mantle of reserve was falling from Peggy and the brightness was

-returning to her face. "Do you love music too?" she inquired, lifting

-her sightless blue eyes to her companion's countenance.

-

-"Indeed I do; so we have that much in common, at any rate."

-

-"Oh, we have more than that, for I am sure you love flowers, and so

-do I. Do you know, there are such a lot of sea-pinks growing on the

-cliffs—"

-

-"You do not go on the cliffs alone?" Miss Leighton interposed.

-

-"Oh, no! But I have been several times with Mr. Tiddy, and I hold fast

-to his hand. There is a sheep-track along the cliffs, you know, and

-it is quite safe if you keep to that. I could find my way alone, I am

-sure, but I never mean to try, because I have promised, I won't."

-

-"That's well. Perhaps you and I might walk there together some day. Do

-you think you could put up with an old woman for a companion?"

-

-"Yes, Miss Leighton," Peggy answered, smiling.

-

-"And you shall show me the sea-pinks, and we will take Wolf to protect

-us both. But do not call me 'Miss Leighton,' child; call me 'Aunt

-Caroline,' for you are my great-niece and—and I should like to be kind

-to you."

-

-

-

-CHAPTER VIII

-

-CONCERNING ELLEN BARNES

-

-MISS LEIGHTON'S maid—Ellen Barnes—was a plain, sad-faced, middle-aged

-woman who had been with her present employer for many years. She had

-known Mrs. Pringle before her marriage, and consequently, it was with

-considerable satisfaction and some astonishment that she saw the

-interest with which her mistress regarded the daughter of the niece,

-the very existence of whom she had ignored so long.

-

-It cannot be said that Miss Leighton was on anything like confidential

-terms with her maid; but she trusted her, and she would have certainly

-been at a loss without the services of the quiet, rather spiritless

-woman who rarely spoke except in answer to a question.

-

-Miss Leighton had now been nearly a fortnight at Higher Brimley, and

-had had several interviews with her little great-niece on the beach,

-and had walked with her along the sheep-track on the cliffs to look at

-the sea-pinks. But she had not yet taken tea with Mrs. Tiddy as had

-been suggested, and when, one sunshiny morning, Peggy arrived with an

-invitation for her to do so that afternoon, she accepted it immediately.

-

-"Of course I will come," she replied, after Peggy—rosy with the

-exercise of walking—had delivered her message. "Please give my kind

-regards to Mrs. Tiddy and say I accept her invitation with pleasure.

-Did you walk here by yourself, child?"

-

-"No," answered Peggy. She had been ushered into Miss Leighton's

-sitting-room by Ellen Barnes, who had been on an errand to the post

-office for her mistress and had overtaken the little girl on her way

-home. "I started to come alone," she said, "but I had not gone far

-before I heard some one calling to me. It was Barnes. So we walked on

-together. What a very nice woman she is, Aunt Caroline! We had such a

-long talk!"

-

-"Humph!" exclaimed Miss Leighton, rather surprised. "And, pray, what

-did you find to talk about?"

-

-"Oh, about things at home, first of all," was the somewhat vague

-response. "My home, of course I mean. I did not know till to-day that

-Barnes knew my mother."

-

-The little girl had taken the chair which had been placed for her close

-to the open window by which Miss Leighton was sitting, and the bright

-spring sunshine fell full upon her face framed in its golden curls.

-Certainly she made a very pretty picture.

-

-"I like Barnes," she proceeded in a tone of decision as her companion

-vouchsafed no response. "How very fortunate you are to have such a nice

-woman for your maid, Aunt Caroline!"

-

-"I believe she is thoroughly trustworthy," Miss Leighton remarked,

-somewhat astonished at this expression of opinion, "and that is a great

-deal to be able to say of any one. Barnes has been with me many years.

-I pay her good wages and she is not overworked. I believe she values

-her situation."

-

-"Oh, yes, I am sure she does!" Peggy agreed earnestly.

-

-"How can you tell, child?" Miss Leighton asked, a slightly amused smile

-curving her lips.

-

-"She told me she did, Aunt Caroline."

-

-"Did she?" There was gratification in the old lady's voice. "But—how

-strange of her to say so to you! She must have been very confidential."

-

-"She was telling me about her brother, and how she values her situation

-with you because you pay her such good wages that she is able to send

-home more than half she earns. Oh, Aunt Caroline, when she told me

-about her brother, I thought how thankful I ought to be that God has

-only made me blind! Suppose I was like poor Barnes's brother: how much

-worse that would be!"

-

-"What about Barnes's brother?" inquired Miss Leighton, in utter

-bewilderment. "I have never heard anything about my maid's relations;

-she has a week's holiday every summer; I suppose she goes to see them

-then. Stay—I think I remember hearing her once mention a mother, who,

-by the way, must be a very old woman, for Barnes herself is quite

-middle-aged."

-

-"Barnes's mother is more than eighty years old, and she lives in a

-little village near Plymouth with her son. Oh, Aunt Caroline, he is

-only two years younger than Barnes, and he has been an idiot all his

-life!"

-

-"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Leighton, feeling really shocked. "I never

-heard that before. Barnes never told me."

-

-Peggy looked intensely surprised for a minute, then an expression of

-comprehension crossed her face. "I expect she did not like to tell

-you," she said. "Perhaps she thought you would not be interested, you

-know."

-

-"Why should she think that?" Miss Leighton questioned sharply.

-

-The little girl was silent. She had heard Mrs. Tiddy say that Barnes

-looked a broken-spirited woman; and Mrs. Ford, when she had called

-at Lower Brimley a few days previously, had declared her to be a

-perfect slave to her mistress's whims, and wondered why she did not

-seek another situation with some one who, at any rate, would be less

-inconsiderate and exacting. In the conversation the little girl had

-had with Barnes, she had discovered the reason which induced her to

-keep her post. It was because it enabled her to do so much for her poor

-mother and her imbecile brother in their cottage home.

-

-"Why should you think that?" Miss Leighton persisted. "Come, speak out,

-child! Don't be afraid of me!"

-

-"I'm not," Peggy answered truthfully, for she was not in the least in

-awe of the old lady. "I meant that—that perhaps if you have never asked

-Barnes about her relations, she would think you would not care to hear

-about them. But it does seem so very odd that she should have lived

-with you so many years, and you should not know all about her mother

-and brother!"

-

-"The brother is an idiot, you say?"

-

-"Yes; but Barnes and her mother are very fond of him; it would break

-her mother's heart to be parted from him, and Barnes says they shall

-never be separated as long as God gives her health and strength to

-work. They get parish pay, and with what Barnes sends them they manage

-to live pretty comfortably. Oh, Aunt Caroline, mustn't it be dreadful

-to have a brother like that! Oh dear, I do think it is so very sad!"

-And the pitiful tears rose to Peggy's blue eyes and ran down her cheeks.

-

-"You mustn't take other people's troubles to heart like that!" Miss

-Leighton exclaimed hastily.

-

-"I feel so sorry for Barnes," Peggy said, with deepest sorrow in her

-tone, "because I am sure it must make her very unhappy to think of her

-brother and her old mother sometimes. She must wish to see them so

-much, and always be wondering how they are getting on. Mrs. Tiddy says

-Barnes looks a very sad woman. I wish I could do something to make her

-happier."

-

-"I said so to her just now," she continued, with a brightening face,

-"and what do you think she answered? That I had helped her by being

-sorry for her brother; she said she wouldn't have told me anything

-about him if I hadn't been afflicted myself, and it warmed her heart to

-know I cared. I told her I should pray to God every night to make her

-brother right in his mind, and she said she was afraid that would never

-be in this world. Poor fellow! He's like me, Aunt Caroline, in that

-way, isn't he? He will have to bear his cross as long as he lives, and

-his cross is so much heavier than mine."

-

-A silence followed, during which Miss Leighton sat gazing, unseeingly,

-out of the window. There was a mist before her eyes, and a lump in her

-throat which prevented her uttering a word. By-and-by Peggy rose to go.

-

-"Mrs. Tiddy said she hoped you would come early this afternoon," she

-observed. "Please do, for I've so many things to show you."

-

-"I certainly will," Miss Leighton replied. "Shall Barnes take you home?"

-

-"Oh no, thank you, I know the way quite well; I have only to keep to

-the road. Good-bye, Aunt Caroline—till this afternoon."

-

-Miss Leighton stood at the window and watched the little girl out of

-sight, a gentler expression than usual on her face. Then she resumed

-her seat and took up the book she had been reading before the child's

-arrival; but it failed to interest her now, for her mind was full of

-uneasy thoughts. Barnes had lived with her for nearly twenty years,

-she reflected; and yet how little she really knew of the woman! Well,

-it could not be expected that she would interest herself in her maid's

-concerns. And yet, how surprised Peggy had been at discovering her

-ignorance of aged mother and her imbecile son. Peggy had learnt all

-there was to know about them in less than half an hour.

-

-Miss Leighton paid her servants liberal wages—she was never stingy

-where money was concerned—and it had often occurred to her that Barnes

-must be of a miserly disposition, for she dressed very plainly and it

-had been impossible not to notice that she begrudged spending money.

-Now she understood where the woman's wages had gone. Barnes had not

-been making a purse for herself, but spending it upon those dear

-to her, and, all the while, she had been regarding her as a mean,

-poor-spirited creature.

-

-It was difficult to realise that the humble, silent woman who had borne

-with her mistress's haughty temper so patiently, had been leading a

-life of self-sacrifice and self-repression from the noblest of motives;

-but Miss Leighton now realised that such had been the case, for Peggy

-had thrown a new light upon the maid's character.

-

-What had made Barnes tell Peggy about her brother? the old lady

-wondered. Was it because her heart had been hungry for sympathy,

-and she had known instinctively that she would receive it from the

-blind child? Probably so. She had preferred to confide in a stranger,

-rather than in the mistress whom she knew to be accounted a charitable

-woman—one lavish in giving of her wealth.

-

-"I don't think she can really be charitable, if she isn't kind in

-little ways," Peggy had said ingenuously, passing her childish judgment

-on her mother's rich aunt, and the words returned forcibly to Miss

-Leighton's mind now, and cause her a strange pang, whilst she asked

-herself if she had ever been really kind to Ellen Barnes, or for that

-matter, to any member of her household. She was a lonely old woman;

-but, after all, was it not greatly owing to her own fault? She had

-certainly never been "kind in little ways."

-

-

-

-CHAPTER IX

-

-TEA AT LOWER BRIMLEY

-

-IT was not the ordinary "afternoon tea" to which Miss Leighton was

-invited, but a substantial meal laid on the square mahogany table in

-the parlour at Lower Brimley, with a mass of primroses in the centre

-intermingled with sprays of beautiful fern moss, surrounded by plates

-of daintily cut bread-and-butter and various kinds of preserves in

-glass dishes, an old china bowl full of clotted cream, a plum cake, and

-some saffron buns—"knobbies" as they are called in Cornwall.

-

-It was but natural that Mrs. Tiddy should put her best possessions

-before this relation of her little visitor's, so the silver tea-service

-had come out of its flannel wrappings, and Miss Leighton drank her tea

-from a rare old china teacup with a wreath of pink roses inside its

-brim—one of a set which had been treasured in Mr. Tiddy's family for

-three generations and was only used on great occasions—and stirred her

-tea with an apostle spoon, worn thin with age; whilst, much to her

-hostess's gratification, she evidently appreciated the efforts which

-were being made to entertain her.

-

-Seated at Mrs. Tiddy's right hand at the tea-table, the old lady looked

-about her with a sense of unusual contentment. For once in a way, she

-was satisfied with the company in which she found herself. Yes, she

-liked this hearty, out-spoken west-country farmer and his pleasant,

-intelligent wife, for she was under the impression—a true one—that

-they would have welcomed her as cordially if she had been poor instead

-of rich, and she so seldom felt that about people. After tea, Peggy

-took possession of her, and, after visiting the yard and inspecting

-the poultry, she was led into the great farm kitchen, where, in one

-corner of the oak settle close to the fire was a flannel-lined basket

-containing two weakly chicks.

-

-"Mrs. Tiddy thought this morning that they would die," Peggy said as

-she covered the invalids with her warm hands. "But they are getting on

-nicely now, and to-morrow, they'll be strong enough to run with their

-brothers and sisters."

-

-Miss Leighton glanced around the kitchen with admiring, appreciative

-eyes, noticing the shining tins on the mantel-piece, the big copper

-warming-pan and the tall, brass-faced clock against the wall, and the

-linen bags hanging from the beams which spanned the ceiling, containing

-home-cured hams and sides of bacon. And then, after a visit to the

-dairy, she returned with Peggy to the parlour, where the tea-things had

-disappeared from the table, and the easiest chair in the room was drawn

-near the window for the guest.

-

-"What a peaceful scene it is!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, as her eyes

-rested on the village below and the distant sea. "I suppose, Mrs.

-Tiddy, you have become greatly attached to this charming spot?"

-

-"Yes," Mrs. Tiddy answered. "I love Lower Brimley as I imagine only

-a woman who has been homeless and dependent can love her home. There

-was nowhere in the world where I could feel I had a right to be, till

-I married, for I was left an orphan at an early age and brought up by

-relations who regarded me in the light of an incubus. The bread of

-charity is very bitter, Miss Leighton—how bitter, it is impossible for

-those who have never tasted it to guess. I finished my education in a

-school as a pupil teacher, so I can truthfully say, that after I was

-seventeen, I maintained myself. You know I was a governess for several

-years, but I prefer being a farmer's wife," she concluded with a happy

-laugh.

-

-"Your lines have fallen in pleasant places," Miss Leighton remarked,

-with a smile which was very gracious.

-

-And Mrs. Tiddy agreed.

-

-Then Peggy was asked to give them some music, and she went to the piano

-willingly. Miss Leighton was astonished to hear the child could play so

-well, and expressed herself delighted, remarking that she had evidently

-been most carefully taught.

-

-"Soon I am going to learn the organ," Peggy informed the old lady,

-twisting round on the piano-stool, "and then, perhaps, when I am quite

-grown up I shall be able to earn my own living. How splendid that will

-be! I think I would rather be a musician than anything else, because

-it makes people happy to hear music. Oh! here's Mr. Tiddy!" she cried,

-catching the sound of footsteps in the hall; and a minute later the

-farmer entered the room.

-

-"You've been having some music?" he said, glancing at Peggy on the

-piano-stool. "Well, now, won't you sing something, my dear? She has a

-voice as sweet as a lark's," he continued, turning to the visitor. "I

-am sure you would like to hear her sing, wouldn't you?"

-

-"Indeed I should," Miss Leighton replied.

-

-"I don't know any songs," Peggy said doubtfully; "only a few hymns, and

-little scraps from anthems which I've heard at church."

-

-"Sing that hymn about 'Light at evening time,' my dear," requested Mr.

-Tiddy. "I dearly like to hear you sing that."

-

-Peggy complied immediately, and when her sweet voice ceased there was

-dead silence for a minute or so. Surprised, the little girl turned her

-sightless eyes in the direction of Miss Leighton, wondering why she did

-not at least say, "Thank you."

-

-"Don't you like it?" she asked. "It's my favourite hymn, and when I was

-a very little girl mother taught me to say the first verse as a prayer.

-I say it every night now, and I expect I always shall. I suppose I like

-it so much because I'm blind. I don't know what light is, but I know

-it's very beautiful and wonderful, because Jesus is called 'The Light

-of the World,' and people seem to think it's so dreadful to be without

-it."

-

-"The light our Saviour brought into the world is given to the blind as

-freely as to others," Mrs. Tiddy reminded her gently. "Its home is in

-the heart, making peace and happiness and joy." She glanced at Miss

-Leighton as she spoke and was surprised at the expression of her face.

-The old lady was regarding the child with yearning eyes, and her whole

-countenance—generally so repellent in its pride—was softened by an

-emotion which rendered her incapable of speech.

-

-At that moment Peggy started to her feet, declaring she heard Wolf

-outside the window—he was in search of her—and hastened out of the

-room. A few minutes later, she and her faithful canine friend ran down

-the garden path side by side, the dog barking joyously at having lured

-her from the house.

-

-"How full of life and high spirits she is!" remarked Mr. Tiddy, as he

-moved to the window to watch the pair. "She is looking capital, isn't

-she? I declare her cheeks have become quite round and rosy, and she was

-such a pale little soul not much more than a month ago."

-

-"It is terrible that she should be blind!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, a

-sort of restrained vehemence in her tone as she found her voice once

-more. "Can nothing really be done for her? Has she had good advice?"

-

-"The best in London, I believe," Mrs. Tiddy answered with a sigh.

-

-"Then money would be no good—" The old lady paused as both her

-companions shook their heads. "Because if it was a question of money

-I would gladly pay any amount for the child's sake," she proceeded

-eagerly. "I—I have taken a great fancy to her. I do not know when I was

-so much attracted by a child before. I would give a great deal if she

-could be made to see."

-

-"Hers is not a case money can touch," Mr. Tiddy responded gravely, "I

-have been assured of that by her parents. As long as her life lasts,

-the little maid will be blind, and she knows it, but she's contented to

-wait. Her eyes will see the King in His beauty by-and-by, and meanwhile

-His love is lightening her darkness and cheering her way. Did you like

-that hymn she sang?"

-

-"Yes," Miss Leighton assented, "but it made me sad. To me, blindness

-seems the heaviest affliction that can fall upon any one."

-

-She glanced out of the window, her expression one of mingled affection

-and pity as her gaze fell upon the little girl who was now leaning over

-the garden gate in the attitude of listening.

-

-"Ah, here comes Barnes to escort me home!" she exclaimed. "I have to

-thank you for a very pleasant time," she continued earnestly, looking

-from one of her companions to the other. "I am afraid I shall have no

-opportunity of returning your hospitality now, for I am leaving Higher

-Brimley at the end of the week; but surely, Mr. Tiddy, you sometimes

-bring your wife to town?"

-

-"She has not been back to London since I married her," Mr. Tiddy

-replied smilingly, "and she says she has no desire to go. But I mean

-for us both to take a holiday in the autumn—after the corn harvest—and

-then—"

-

-"And then you will come to London," Miss Leighton interposed quickly,

-"and do come and stay with me. Don't say 'No,' but think it over. It

-would give me so much pleasure to have you for my guests, and you

-should do as you pleased in every way. At any rate, promise you will

-not visit London without seeing me."

-

-"I readily promise that," Mrs. Tiddy answered, secretly much surprised

-at the invitation she and her husband had received. "You are very

-kind—so many thanks. Won't you stay a little longer? Barnes can wait

-for you."

-

-"I think I must go, for I would rather return before dark, and the

-evening is drawing in. There is a mist rising from the sea; I dare say

-it is 'only for heat and pilchards' as you Cornish folk say, but I am

-liable to bronchitis and I fear to be out in a fog."

-

-Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy escorted their visitor to the garden gate, where

-Barnes was waiting for her, in conversation with Peggy; and five

-minutes later, mistress and maid were climbing the hill towards Higher

-Brimley.

-

-"I shall leave here at the end of the week," Miss Leighton abruptly

-remarked as they neared their destination.

-

-"Yes, ma'am," replied Barnes, in her usual quiet tone.

-

-"It is my intention to return to town, but I think I shall break our

-journey at Plymouth," Miss Leighton announced. "I may probably stay

-there for a day or so."

-

-"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied again. Not a muscle of her face moved, nor

-was there any sign to show the delight she experienced as her mistress

-made known her plans, though her heart was palpitating with joy at the

-thought that she might soon have an opportunity of seeing her mother

-and brother.

-

-Miss Leighton was disappointed. She had planned to stop at Plymouth

-solely on her maid's account; but of course, she reflected, Barnes

-could not know that.

-

-"By the way, you have relatives living near Plymouth, have you not?"

-she asked, after a brief hesitation.

-

-"Yes, ma'am—my mother and my brother." Barnes regarded her mistress

-dubiously, then added: "I shall be glad to see them, if you will allow

-me a day to myself, for my mother is very old, and my brother is sorely

-afflicted—he has no mind, or none to speak of. It will be a great

-pleasure to me to go and see them."

-

-"How is it you never mentioned them to me before?" Miss Leighton

-demanded sharply. "You are deeply attached to them, are you not?"

-

-"Yes," Barnes admitted, "I am." But she did not explain why their names

-had never passed her lips, and her mistress did not ask her again.

-

-

-

-CHAPTER X

-

-GOOD-BYES

-

-"HAVE you nearly finished, Barnes?"

-

-The speaker—Miss Leighton—put the question in a querulous tone. She

-had that moment entered her bedroom at Higher Brimley, where her maid

-was engaged in packing her belongings; and, taking off her bonnet and

-cloak, she flung them upon the bed with an irritability of manner which

-showed she had been put out.

-

-"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered, as she proceeded to lock the last trunk

-and securely fasten its leather straps.

-

-"I have been to Lower Brimley," Miss Leighton announced. "I thought I

-would call and say good-bye to the Tiddys this evening, but they have

-gone to Penzance for the day and taken the child with them."

-

-There was a distinct note of disappointment in her voice, and her face

-wore an expression of mingled annoyance and regret.

-

-"They might have thought that I should call to-day!" she exclaimed,

-vexedly.

-

-"Do they know you are leaving to-morrow, ma'am?" Barnes questioned,

-respectfully.

-

-"I told Mrs. Tiddy I intended leaving at the end of this week: probably

-she imagines that would be on Saturday—not Friday. I should like to

-have said good-bye to little Peggy. Barnes, what I would give if the

-child's parents would consent to my adopting her!"

-

-"Ma'am!" cried Barnes in great astonishment, rising to her feet—she

-had been kneeling to secure the straps of the trunk—and staring at her

-mistress as though she doubted if she had heard aright. "Her mother

-would never permit it!" she declared decisively.

-

-"How do you know?" queried Miss Leighton, with a frown and a cold

-glance of displeasure.

-

-"Of course I don't know, ma'am," Barnes answered quietly, "and

-perhaps I have no right to pass my opinion; but, from what I've heard

-Miss Peggy say herself, I judge that it's very unlikely her mother

-and father would part with her, especially as she's blind. Parents

-generally love an afflicted child so much more dearly than those who

-are better fitted to face the world!" And Barnes's face softened into

-tenderness as she spoke.

-

-"But they will have to provide for her future, and my niece's husband

-is a poor man. If anything happened to him—if he died, his widow

-and children would be penniless, and what would become of Peggy

-then—helpless and blind? Surely if her parents are so deeply attached

-to her, they will consider her interests! I will have nothing to do

-with Margaret herself, but she shall not be a loser if she will allow

-me to adopt Peggy. What do you think of my plan, Barnes?"

-

-"I don't like it," Barnes responded in a low tone. "No, I don't like

-it," she repeated, gaining courage to speak her mind; "the little girl

-has a happy home, though I suppose it's a poor one, and she's been

-accustomed to a great deal of love—"

-

-"And if I did not love her, should I desire to adopt her?" Miss

-Leighton broke in with unusual impetuosity.

-

-"Your love is not like that which she's had all her life," Barnes said,

-refraining from meeting her mistress's glance. "How can it be, ma'am?

-You've taken a fancy to the child and you want her for your own sake,

-because she's sweet and loveable; but her mother and father will think

-of what's best for her—"

-

-The maid's sentence was never finished—and perhaps it was as well, as

-Miss Leighton's countenance had darkened with anger—for at that moment

-Mrs. Ford knocked at the door with the information that there were

-visitors downstairs. And on descending to her sitting-room, the old

-lady found Mrs. Tiddy and Peggy awaiting her.

-

-"We are so sorry we were not at home when you called, Miss Leighton,"

-said Mrs. Tiddy, "especially as you are leaving to-morrow—I thought you

-would not go till Saturday. We have just returned from Penzance, where

-we have spent the day."

-

-"I hope you have had a pleasant time," Miss Leighton remarked genially.

-"But are you not very tired?"

-

-"I think Peggy is," Mrs. Tiddy replied, "but when we heard you had been

-to Lower Brimley in our absence to say good-bye to us, she felt with me

-that we could not let you go without a word of farewell, so we decided

-to come straight on here. We must only stay a few minutes, though, as

-my husband is waiting in the dog-cart outside."

-

-"We have had such a lovely day," Peggy informed Miss Leighton. "We had

-dinner at an hotel, and we rode to Land's End in a Jersey car; Mr.

-Tiddy said I must not go home without having been to Land's End."

-

-"And when do you go home?" Miss Leighton inquired.

-

-"At the end of the month," Peggy answered, "when father is coming to

-fetch me. It has all been arranged. Father is going to take a few days'

-holiday; and I shall be able to show him the sea, and the village, and

-the church on the cliff, and all the poultry and the animals on the

-farm! Oh! I am so much looking forward to that! But I shall be very

-sorry when the time comes to leave Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy and dear old

-Wolf! I shall never forget my visit to Cornwall as long as I live! I

-shall not forget you, either," she went on, taking the old lady's hand

-between her own and pressing it. "I don't suppose we shall ever meet

-again, but I shall remember you—always. I wish you were not unfriendly

-with mother! I am sure she would like to be friendly with you. Don't

-you think, Aunt Caroline, you might forgive her now?"

-

-"Did any one tell you to say this to me?" questioned Miss Leighton

-suspiciously, glancing from the child to Mrs. Tiddy, who looked

-somewhat alarmed.

-

-"Oh, no, no! But it seems so dreadful and—and sad that you and mother

-should not be friends, for I know you used to be kind to her long ago;

-and you have been very kind to me—so different from what I thought you

-were like!"

-

-"It's my great desire to be always kind to you, Peggy," Miss Leighton

-said gravely and impressively. "I wish you to bear that in mind. But

-you must not meddle between your mother and me. Little girls should not

-interfere in matters they do not understand."

-

-Peggy blushed rosy red and her blue eyes filled with tears, but she

-managed to keep them back. She felt snubbed and uncomfortable, and was

-very relieved when Mrs. Tiddy declared they must go. Miss Leighton rose

-to escort her visitors to the garden gate, and, as they were leaving

-the room, Barnes came downstairs. Peggy recognised the maid's step

-immediately, and meet her with extended hands.

-

-"Good-bye, Barnes," she said, adding in a whisper, "I sha'n't forget

-all you told me about your poor brother, and I shall remember always to

-pray for him as I said I would. If you ever see me in London, you'll be

-sure to speak to me, will you not?"

-

-"Yes, miss," Barnes responded. She glanced hastily around and saw that

-her mistress had followed Mrs. Tiddy out of the front door, then she

-put her arms around Peggy and kissed her. "Good-bye, you dear little

-soul," she said affectionately. "You're going home soon, are you not,

-my dear?"

-

-"Yes," Peggy assented happily.

-

-"Ah, you'll be glad to be with your mother and father and brother

-again, won't you?"

-

-"Indeed I shall," agreed Peggy.

-

-"There's no place like home and the love we get there—remember that,

-Miss Peggy. It's better to be rich in love than in money, any day!"

-

-"Of course it is," smiled the little girl. "And I shall be very glad to

-be at home again, though Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been as kind as kind

-could be!"

-

-"They're good, kind people, miss; any one can see that, and you've been

-happy with them, I know; but—there, I mustn't keep you any longer!" And

-Barnes kissed Peggy once more and hurried away.

-

-After that, Peggy hastened to join the others at the garden gate. Mrs.

-Tiddy had already taken her place on the front seat of the dog-cart,

-and Mr. Tiddy was shaking hands with Miss Leighton and telling her, in

-his hearty, hospitable way, that she must never pay that district a

-visit without coming to Lower Brimley. She assured him that she never

-would.

-

-"Now then, Peggy. Ready?" he inquired briskly.

-

-The little girl assented, approaching Miss Leighton and holding out her

-hand. She raised her face to the old lady's and received a lingering

-kiss, which she returned rather shyly. Then, Mr. Tiddy lifted her in

-his arms and placed her on the back seat of the dog-cart, bidding her

-keep a firm hold of the rail of the vehicle and not fall out.

-

-"Good-bye, Aunt Caroline!" cried Peggy brightly, waving her hand, as

-they started off for home.

-

-But Miss Leighton made no response. There was a choking sensation in

-her throat, and she dared not attempt to speak for fear her voice

-should betray her emotion. She had a feeling, at that moment, that

-Peggy was going from her for ever, and that made her very sad.

-

-The spring evening was closing in fast now; and, as the dog-cart

-disappeared from sight, Miss Leighton turned and slowly retraced her

-footsteps towards the house, encountering Barnes as she entered the

-front door. The maid looked at her mistress a trifle curiously, and

-received a somewhat defiant glance in return.

-

-"Tell Mrs. Ford I shall require my supper immediately, as I shall have

-to be up early in the morning, and therefore shall go to bed in good

-time to-night, Barnes," Miss Leighton said, in her usual cold tone.

-

-"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied. "I am glad, ma'am, that Mrs. Tiddy

-brought little Miss Peggy to say good-bye to you," she ventured to add.

-

-"I have said good-bye to the child for the present," Miss Leighton

-responded deliberately; "but she too will soon be returning to town,

-and I have planned that we shall meet again."

-

-

-

-CHAPTER XI

-

-HOME AGAIN

-

-"I SHOULD think they will be here very soon now!"

-

-The speaker was Mrs. Pringle, who stood at the sitting-room window of

-her home, looking out into the narrow street, one cold, wet, spring

-evening. Her arm was around Billy's shoulders; and the little boy's

-face, which wore an expression of eager watchfulness, was pressed close

-to the window-pane.

-

-"Yes," Billy answered, "I hope so. It always seems so long when one is

-waiting, doesn't it, mother? How it is raining!"

-

-"I wish it had been a finer evening for Peggy's return," Mrs. Pringle

-remarked. "We must keep the fire up."

-

-She moved back from the window and put mare coals into the grate.

-

-"We will give our little Sunbeam a warm welcome, at any rate," she

-added with a smile.

-

-All day, she had gone about her household duties with the happiest

-of hearts, and every now and again she had run upstairs to make sure

-that Peggy's bedroom was quite in order. For her husband, who had gone

-to Cornwall a few days previously, was expected to bring his little

-daughter home that night. Needless to say, Billy was no less delighted

-than his mother at the prospect of so soon seeing Peggy again; whilst

-Sarah, in the kitchen, had opened the door, that she might hear the

-expected cab pull up before the house, and kept the kettle on the boil

-in readiness to make tea the minute the travellers should arrive.

-

-"Here they are!" cried Billy excitedly, at last, and, followed by his

-mother, he rushed into the passage, almost colliding with Sarah, who

-was hurrying from the kitchen, and flung wide the front door, admitting

-as he did so a blast of cold wind.

-

-"Don't go out into the rain, Billy," advised Mrs. Pringle, her face

-aglow with expectancy. "See, your father is lifting Peggy out of the

-cab; he will bring her straight in."

-

-The next minute, Peggy was in her mother's arms, rapturously returning

-her mother's welcoming kiss; then came Billy's turn to be embraced,

-and after that, Sarah's. The little girl's countenance was one beam of

-happiness, and her cheeks were so rosy that her brother gazed at her in

-surprise.

-

-"Why, Peggy, how you've altered!" he cried. "And I do believe you've

-grown!"

-

-"I'm sure she has," Mrs. Pringle agreed. "She is looking remarkably

-well. She left home as white as a lily, and she has returned like a

-red, red rose."

-

-"Are you glad I've come home?" Peggy asked, not because she was in the

-least doubtful on the point, but because it was so sweet to know she

-had been missed and how welcome was her presence at home once more.

-

-"Glad?" exclaimed Billy, "I should think we are! We've all of us missed

-you most dreadfully, Peggy. Even Mr. Maloney noticed that the house

-seemed quite different without you!"

-

-"Yes; but now our little Sunbeam has returned to us," Mrs. Pringle said

-lovingly, "and it is such happiness to have her given back to us well

-and strong!"

-

-"And has no one a welcome for me?" asked Mr. Pringle at that point.

-He had seen about the luggage and dismissed the cabman, and now stood

-regarding the excited group with a glance half humorous, half tender.

-"Have you forgotten that you have not seen me for three whole days?

-Never mind," he continued, after he had kissed his wife and his little

-son, "I am content to take the second place to-night. But Peggy and I

-are both tired and hungry; so, suppose we have our tea at once—as soon

-as Peggy has removed her wraps."

-

-A very pleasant meal followed; and afterwards the family drew round the

-fireplace, in a circle, to talk.

-

-"I've so much to tell you, that I don't know where to begin," Peggy

-remarked. "Oh, I do think the very nicest part of going away on a visit

-is the coming home again!"

-

-There was a general laugh at that, and Mr. Pringle said:

-

-"That's good hearing, my dear. We left Cornwall bathed in glorious

-sunshine this morning," he continued, addressing his wife. "Your

-schoolfellow's home is in a most beautiful spot. I cannot express how

-greatly I have enjoyed my three days' holiday at Lower Brimley. Both

-Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been kindness itself, and never shall we be

-able to repay them for all they have done for Peggy!"

-

-"I was—oh, so sorry to say good-bye to them," the little girl said

-soberly, "and there was Wolf—poor Wolf! He had to be shut up in the

-stable for fear he would follow us to the station and want to go by

-train. He is such a dear, dear dog! You will love him, Billy, when you

-see him!"

-

-"Do you think I shall ever see him, Peggy?" Billy asked, anxiously. "Do

-you really think Mr. Tiddy will remember to invite me to Lower Brimley

-in the summer holidays?"

-

-"I am sure he will," the little girl replied positively. "I heard him

-mention it several times; he won't forget, he always keeps his word."

-

-"And what about Aunt Caroline?" Mrs. Pringle at length asked. "I was

-never more surprised in my life than when I heard you and she had met!"

-

-"Was it not strange?" Peggy said seriously. "You know she came from

-Penzance on purpose to see Mr. Tiddy's daffodils, and she was so

-pleased with them."

-

-"Did she find out who you were, then?"

-

-"Oh, no—not until long after that—when she was lodging at Higher

-Brimley. I met her on the beach and she spoke to me, and—and I talked

-rather much, for I told her my name—she asked me, I think—and all about

-my accident. Even then she didn't say who she was. But afterwards she

-came to Lower Brimley and asked permission to go around the garden—Mr.

-Tiddy had told her she might—and Mrs. Tiddy and I went with her, and

-just before she left she said I was distantly related to her and

-explained who she was. After that, she was very nice and kind to

-me—very kind indeed!"

-

-"But you don't like her, Peggy, do you?" cried Billy. "I thought her

-such a proud, cross old woman!"

-

-"She speaks in rather a proud way sometimes," Peggy allowed

-reluctantly, "but she isn't cross when you know her—at least, she

-wasn't to me. She said she wouldn't have driven away so quickly after I

-had been knocked down by her horse, if she had known I was blind. Yes,

-I rather like her, but I don't suppose I shall ever meet her again,

-though I should like to. And then there's Barnes—"

-

-"Barnes? Is she still with Aunt Caroline?" broke in Mrs. Pringle,

-eagerly.

-

-"Yes," nodded Peggy, "and she asked me such a lot of questions about

-you, mother. I like Barnes. She told me about her poor afflicted

-brother, and—wasn't it strange?—Aunt Caroline had never heard of him

-till I happened to speak of him to her."

-

-"I dare say not, my dear," Mrs. Pringle answered, evincing no surprise.

-"I remember about poor Barnes's brother," she proceeded. "He is not

-right in his mind, and Barnes helps support him and her mother too. The

-mother must be a very aged woman now."

-

-"Yes," the little girl answered. "Poor Barnes! Aunt Caroline used to

-speak so sharply to her sometimes—I heard her—but that is her way, I

-suppose."

-

-"It used to be," Mrs. Pringle admitted with a sigh, "and, from what you

-tell me, I imagine she has not altered much these last ten years."

-

-"I don't think she's a bit happy," Peggy said, shaking her golden head.

-"That seems very sad, doesn't it? Barnes told the servants at Lower

-Brimley that Aunt Caroline has no friends, because she always thinks

-people who are nice to her want her money."

-

-"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Pringle understandingly, with a quick glance at

-her husband. "Poor Aunt Caroline!"

-

-She sat in silence after that, listening whilst Peggy expatiated at

-great length upon all the delights of life at a farm. Billy drank in

-every word with keen interest, reflecting that some day, not so very

-distant, he would most likely enjoy his share of the pleasures which

-his sister explained so marvellously—considering she had been unable to

-see.

-

-"I know everything was very beautiful," she said, in conclusion, "for

-there seemed to be flowers everywhere, and the scent of the gorse on

-the cliffs was wonderful—I never smelt anything so sweet or strong

-before! And the air was so warm, and the sun shone nearly every day,

-and—"

-

-"And now you have come back to rain and cold," interposed Mrs. Pringle;

-"you will feel it a hardship, I fear, after the mild climate you've

-enjoyed of late and after having spent so much time out-of-doors, to be

-cooped up in a small house again."

-

-"I don't mind the rain and the cold in the very least," Peggy declared,

-"and I love our little house. Oh, I'm so glad to be at home! Yes,

-indeed I am! I've enjoyed my visit to Cornwall; but I think I've missed

-you all as much or more than you have missed me. I'm glad I went, but

-I'm gladder still to be back again—to be able to hear your voices and

-put out my hands and feel you are here! You would understand what that

-means, if you were blind. Oh, I think I was never so happy in my life

-before as I am to-night."

-

-"Thank God for that, my darling," Mrs. Pringle responded in a tremulous

-voice. "Oh, we have much to thank Him for!" she added softly, as

-she remembered the pale, delicate little girl she had seen off at

-Paddington railway station with a very heavy heart six weeks previously

-and mentally compared her with the one—a picture of health and

-contentment—who now nestled close to her side. She had prayed—oh, so

-earnestly!—that Peggy might be restored to her well and strong, and her

-Father in Heaven had answered her prayer.

-

-

-

-CHAPTER XII

-

-AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT

-

-THE first few days after Peggy's return home were very wet and cold,

-although it was late spring. But one morning, she arose conscious of a

-change in the atmosphere and that the sun was shining into her bedroom

-window, whilst the sparrows were twittering noisily outside as though

-they had matters of great importance to discuss with each other.

-

-"I think we are going to have a taste of spring weather at last,"

-observed Mr. Pringle at the breakfast table that morning. "There's the

-promise of a beautiful May day, and I hope," he continued, addressing

-his wife, "that you will manage to get out for a while in the

-sunshine—you and Peggy."

-

-"I want to do so," Mrs. Pringle replied. "I have some shopping to do

-first of all, and afterwards we may, perhaps, extend our walk."

-

-Accordingly Peggy and her mother spent most of the morning

-out-of-doors. They were both in excellent spirits, and though, of

-course, they had to take their walk in the streets, they thoroughly

-enjoyed it. Mrs. Pringle looked into the shops and told her little

-daughter what the windows contained; and they bought a bunch of

-wallflowers from a costermonger's barrow, for a penny, which smelt

-almost as sweet as those at Lower Brimley, Peggy declared, and she

-wondered if they had come from Cornwall—that corner of the world which,

-to the blind child, would always be remembered as a paradise of flowers.

-

-Then, on their way home, they encountered Mr. Maloney, whom Peggy had

-not met since her return. He turned and walked with them as far as

-their own door, listening with a rather preoccupied air, Mrs. Pringle

-thought, to the little girl's chatter, and watching her animated

-countenance with an expression of grave scrutiny in his kindly eyes.

-

-"I want a private conversation with you and your husband, Mrs.

-Pringle," he remarked. "If I call this evening, shall I find you both

-disengaged?"

-

-"Yes," she assented, adding anxiously, "there is nothing wrong, is

-there? You have no bad news to tell us?"

-

-"Oh, no!" he responded, with a reassuring smile. "Please do not imagine

-that for a moment. I will call this evening, then, about seven."

-

-Peggy wondered what Mr. Maloney could have to say to her parents in

-private. And Mr. Pringle expressed astonishment when his wife informed

-him at dinner-time of the reason the Vicar had assigned for his

-proposed call. Whilst Billy, though he made no remark, was filled with

-intense curiosity, and by the evening had become quite excited, and

-found great difficulty in concentrating his mind to prepare his lessons

-for the following day.

-

-Mr. Pringle had given orders that the Vicar was to be shown into the

-music-room, as the small apartment was called which was apportioned

-to the use of the master of the house. And as soon as Mrs. Pringle,

-who had been sewing in the sitting-room, heard Sarah admit Mr. Maloney

-punctually at the hour he had appointed, she laid aside her work, and

-the next moment, the children were alone.

-

-Billy continued to pore over his lesson books, whilst Peggy sat

-opposite to him at the table, her busy fingers engaged in knitting a

-sock, one of a pair she was making for her father. Sarah had taught the

-little girl the accomplishment of knitting during the long evenings

-of the previous winter, and the pupil did her teacher great credit.

-There had been silence in the room, except for the click of Peggy's

-knitting-needles, for some minutes, when the little girl suddenly

-dropped her work, and springing to her feet, stood listening intently.

-

-"What is it?" asked Billy, glancing at her quickly, and noting that she

-had grown very pale. "What do you hear?"

-

-"Nothing, now," she answered tremulously. "But I thought—I thought—I

-suppose it was my fancy!"

-

-"What did you think you heard?" he questioned curiously. "Why, you have

-turned quite white! What startled you, Peggy?"

-

-"I thought I heard mother crying, but I suppose I was wrong. I don't

-hear anything now."

-

-Billy went to the door, opened it, and listened; but nothing could be

-heard except a murmur of voices from the music-room. He shut the door

-and returned to the table.

-

-"Why should mother cry?" he demanded, uneasily.

-

-"Didn't you tell me Mr. Maloney said nothing was wrong?"

-

-"Yes," Peggy responded, "and he wouldn't have deceived us, I know."

-

-"Then mother wouldn't cry for nothing!"

-

-"I expect it was my mistake, Billy."

-

-More than half an hour passed—an hour—and at last the children heard

-the music-room door open and footsteps in the passage. Then the front

-door opened and shut, and a moment afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Pringle

-entered the sitting-room without their visitor.

-

-One glance at his mother told Billy that his sister's sharp ears

-had not deceived her, for there were traces of recent tears on Mrs.

-Pringle's face. She crossed the room and took a chair by her little

-daughter's side, and her voice bespoke strong emotion as she said:

-

-"Peggy, dear, we have decided to tell you what brought Mr. Maloney here

-to-night. Yesterday, he had a visit from Aunt Caroline, who wishes

-to—to—"

-

-"Oh, I know!" cried Peggy joyfully, as her mother hesitated. "She

-wishes to be friendly with you, mother! Isn't it that?"

-

-"No, dear," Mrs. Pringle replied sadly. "She has no desire to have

-anything to do with any of us but you. She would like to adopt you,

-Peggy—to have you to live with her—"

-

-"Oh mother!" broke in the little girl. "No! No!"

-

-"That is what she wishes. She offers to bring you up and provide for

-you, and to make you a rich woman some day. But your father and I have

-declined her offer, Peggy darling. We will keep our little daughter and

-trust to Providence to take care of her future."

-

-"You have been crying," said Peggy distressfully, "and I can hear the

-tears in your voice now. Oh, don't cry, mother! What can Aunt Caroline

-be thinking of, to imagine you and father would let her adopt me! As

-though I could leave you all to go and live with her!"

-

-"I knew she was a nasty old woman!" cried Billy, in tones of the

-greatest indignation. "And now I know she is cruel too! It is cruel of

-her to wish to take Peggy away from us! And the idea of her going to

-Mr. Maloney and—"

-

-"Hush, Billy!" admonished Mr. Pringle. "She went to Mr. Maloney because

-she knew he was our friend," he proceeded. "You must not misjudge her;

-certainly she did not mean to be cruel. I have no doubt she imagines

-she is acting kindly; but she does not understand us or realise that

-Peggy would not be happy separated from the members of her own family.

-We have talked over Miss Leighton's offer with Mr. Maloney, and we have

-declined it. I think we are right, and Mr. Maloney thinks so too; but

-he could not well refuse to put Miss Leighton's offer before us, as

-she had made a point of his doing so. To-morrow he will give her our

-reply, and I fear she will be very angry as well as disappointed; but

-we cannot part with our little Sunbeam," he concluded tenderly.

-

-"Did she want me to live with her altogether?" Peggy asked wonderingly,

-taking her mother's hand and holding it in a firm clasp.

-

-"Yes, dear. She said you might come home sometimes—that she would not

-object to your coming to see us now and again, but—oh, Peggy, Peggy!"

-And poor Mrs. Pringle caught the little girl in her arms and kissed her

-passionately. "I hope we haven't been selfish," she continued, "but God

-gave you to us, and I cannot think it would be right to give you up

-for the sake of worldly advantages. No, I cannot think that! You have

-always had a happy home, have you not, Peggy?"

-

-"Oh, so happy!" the little girl answered earnestly. "Why do you cry,

-mother—when I am not going to leave you?"

-

-"I am very foolish, I dare say," said Mrs. Pringle. "But it hurts me to

-think Aunt Caroline could imagine I would give up my own child."

-

-"Poor woman, she over-estimates the worth of her money," Mr. Pringle

-remarked, with a pitying note in his voice. "She does not understand

-that there are things even in this world not to be purchased with gold."

-

-"Why should she want to adopt me?" questioned Peggy wonderingly,

-turning her flushed face towards her father. "It is not even as though

-I wasn't blind! Why doesn't she adopt some little girl who has no

-mother or father or brother to love her? Why should she want me?"

-

-"Because, somehow, you have touched a soft spot in her heart, little

-Sunbeam," Mr. Pringle answered. "I can think of no other reason. Poor

-Miss Leighton! I am afraid she will be very disappointed when she hears

-we cannot favour her plan."

-

-"Poor Aunt Caroline!" sighed Peggy. "Why can't she be friendly with us

-all, and come and see us and be nice like she was when she came to tea

-at Lower Brimley?" And she shook her head sorrowfully as she thought of

-the old lady, so rich in money, so poor in other ways.

-

-Billy, looking at his sister, wondered at the regretful expression of

-her face. He could not tell, and he certainly would have been amazed,

-had he known that her tender heart was ready to pour a portion of the

-wealth of its affection upon her whom he regarded, not unnaturally,

-as one of the proudest and most disagreeable of people, and he felt

-triumphant as he reflected that Miss Leighton would be disappointed at

-finding herself balked in her selfish plan.

-

-When, on the following day, Miss Leighton heard from Mr. Maloney that

-Mr. and Mrs. Pringle had considered her offer and courteously declined

-it, she made no comment on their decision whatever. But she was even

-more disappointed than Billy had anticipated she would be, and there

-was more of sorrow than of anger in her heart. Briefly she informed

-Barnes that Peggy's parents had refused to allow her to adopt the child.

-

-"You were right, Barnes," she admitted with a sigh. "You thought my

-niece would refuse my offer, did you not?"

-

-"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered briefly. She said no more, for in her

-heart she was confident that Peggy would be better and happier at home.

-

-

-

-CHAPTER XIII

-

-PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS

-

-FOR many months, the Pringle family heard no more of Miss Leighton.

-Spring gave place to summer; and in the early autumn Billy paid his

-visit to Cornwall, returning, after a never-to-be forgotten six weeks'

-holiday, with Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy, who spent a short while in London,

-during which time they went to see Miss Leighton, mindful of the

-promise which they had made to her.

-

-But, although the old lady received her Cornish acquaintances with

-every sign of cordiality and pleasure, she never once mentioned Peggy,

-and when Mrs. Tiddy spoke of her, she quickly changed the conversation,

-so that her visitors came to the conclusion that her liking for the

-little blind girl had been merely a passing fancy, and that she had

-lost the interest she had certainly once entertained for the child.

-Such, however, was not the case.

-

-It was the end of September when the Tiddys returned to their Cornish

-home; and shortly afterwards Miss Leighton had a long and serious

-illness, the result of a neglected cold. When she had recovered and

-was able to dispense with the services of the trained nurse, who, with

-Barnes, had nursed her back to health, it was December, and every one

-was preparing for Christmas.

-

-The season of peace and goodwill never brought much happiness to Miss

-Leighton nowadays; but it made many calls upon her purse. And when

-she had written several cheques to be sent to the various charities

-to which she was a regular contributor, she generally considered she

-had done all that could be reasonably expected of her for her fellow

-creatures.

-

-But this year, as she sat by the fire in the drawing-room of her London

-house, one afternoon about a week before Christmas, a sense of unusual

-dissatisfaction with herself began to creep over her. Memory was busy

-with her; and, gazing into the fire, she pictured a little figure clad

-in a shabby blue serge coat and skirt and a Tam o' Shanter cap, and saw

-once more a fair face with a halo of golden curls around it—a happy

-face, beautiful with that inward peace and light which only God can

-give. Then, in her imagination, she heard a clear, child's voice say:

-

-"But I don't think she can be really charitable, if she isn't kind in

-little ways and if she's unforgiving!"

-

-Miss Leighton winced as she recalled the words and the decided tone

-in which they had been uttered. How the child's judgment of her had

-rankled in her heart! It had hurt her at the time it had been given,

-though she had never resented it: it hurt her a great deal more now.

-

-"I would have been kind to Peggy, if her parents would have let me,"

-she thought. "There is nothing I would have denied her. I should like

-to do something to please her—to add to her happiness this Christmas.

-How I should like to see her again! She was such a bright, contented

-little girl! When I was ill, she was continually in my thoughts, and

-one night, I fancied I heard her singing that hymn about light at

-evening time—she has a very sweet voice. I wonder if Margaret would let

-the child come and see me? I hardly like to ask her a favour, but I

-long to see Peggy once more. Ah, here's Barnes!"

-

-The maid had been to match some silks for a piece of fancy-work her

-mistress was making; but Miss Leighton was not in the mood to look at

-her purchases now.

-

-"Sit down, Barnes," she said. "I want to speak to you."

-

-"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied, taking a chair and glancing at her

-mistress inquiringly. There was a better understanding between these

-two than there had been formerly, for each had discovered of late, that

-the other had a heart; and Barnes had nursed Miss Leighton devotedly

-during her long illness, a fact Miss Leighton was not likely to forget.

-

-"I suppose the shops are very gay?" Miss Leighton questioned.

-

-"Yes, ma'am, they are full of Christmas presents."

-

-"And doubtless you've made some purchases to send to your mother and

-brother?"

-

-Barnes assented, a pleased flush rising to her pale cheeks at the

-unusual kindness of her mistress's tone. She was emboldened to give

-Miss Leighton a list of the articles she had bought to send home to her

-people.

-

-"I pack up a hamper for them every Christmas," she explained in

-conclusion, "and my poor brother is always so excited to see it

-unpacked."

-

-"But would it not be much less trouble to you to send your mother the

-money you spend and let her buy what she wants herself?" Miss Leighton

-inquired.

-

-"Perhaps so, ma'am; but that would not be half so much pleasure to

-mother or to me. I like thinking and planning how I shall fill the

-hamper with those things which I know will be most acceptable, and when

-mother receives it and takes out its contents, she knows I've borne her

-wants in mind. I've knitted her a nice warm shawl, and she'll be much

-prouder of it, because I've made it, than if I'd bought it ready made."

-

-"I see, Barnes. I wonder what sort of Christmas my little grand-niece

-will spend."

-

-Barnes started, and a somewhat guilty expression crossed her

-countenance as she answered hurriedly:

-

-"A very happy one, I expect. Children mostly love Christmas time, and

-she has a very happy home."

-

-"How do you know?" Miss Leighton asked suspiciously.

-

-"I— I've been there, ma'am. I went to St. John's one Sunday afternoon

-to hear Mr. Maloney preach at a children's service, and I saw Miss

-Peggy there with her mother and brother. After the service, outside the

-church, I spoke to them, and Mrs. Pringle asked me to their house to

-have a cup of tea—and I went."

-

-"Well?" said Miss Leighton, with repressed eagerness in her voice.

-"What is the place like?"

-

-"The house, ma'am? It's one of a terrace, very small but comfortable

-and homely. Perhaps I ought to have told you that I'd been there, but I

-did not like to mention it."

-

-"Has my niece altered much?" Miss Leighton asked after a brief pause.

-

-"No, ma'am, very little. She inquired for you and looked so sorry when

-she heard how ill you'd been, and Miss Peggy said—" Barnes paused

-abruptly in some confusion.

-

-"Well, what did Miss Peggy say? I insist upon your telling me."

-

-"She said, 'Poor Aunt Caroline! How dreadful it would have been if she

-had died and we had never known! How I wish she would be friends with

-us all! She used to be so nice in Cornwall.' That's what she said,

-ma'am, shaking her curly head—you remember how she used to do that?

-It's natural she shouldn't understand how you feel towards her mother."

-

-Miss Leighton sighed. During her late illness she had been brought

-face to face with death; and, for the first time, doubts of herself

-had assailed her, and she had seen her unforgiving spirit in its true

-light. Pride had always been her stumbling-block through life; and it

-had been her pride which had suffered when her niece, to whom in her

-way she had really been attached, had elected to marry the hardworking

-music-master who was now the organist of St. John's.

-

-Her only reason for objecting to Mr. Pringle as her niece's husband

-had been because he had been poor. She had always thought so much of

-riches, but they had never brought her happiness; as a matter of fact,

-they had stood between her and her fellow creatures, they had warped

-her sympathies; and sadly and regretfully, the woman of great wealth

-admitted to herself that though she had given her money to clothe the

-naked and feed the poor, it had profited her nothing, for the spirit of

-charity had never been hers.

-

-"I am an old woman, and no one cares for me," she thought. "The love I

-might have had, I deliberately put away. I should not be lonely to-day,

-if I had not cast Margaret aside when she married. How she wept when I

-said I would never willingly look on her face again, and I thought it

-was my money she was regretting, not me!"

-

-Aloud she said:

-

-"Does Mr. Maloney hold a children's service every Sunday afternoon,

-Barnes?"

-

-Then, as Barnes assented, she continued: "I have heard high praises of

-his preaching, and I should like to hear one of his sermons. If I go to

-St. John's next Sunday afternoon, will you accompany me?"

-

-"Certainly, ma'am," Barnes responded promptly, her face showing the

-intense amazement she felt. She regarded her mistress with anxious

-scrutiny, marvelling at the softened expression on her countenance. She

-hoped she was not going to be ill again.

-

-"Perhaps we shall see Miss Peggy there," she proceeded; "but, if so,

-I expect her mother will be with her. I suppose you will not speak to

-them, ma'am?"

-

-"I cannot tell," Miss Leighton answered musingly. "I—I shall be guided

-by circumstances."

-

-"Oh, ma'am!" cried Barnes eagerly. "Don't be angry with me for saying

-this; but, if you could bring yourself to forgive Mrs. Pringle—"

-

-"That will do," broke in Miss Leighton with a return of her usual

-imperious manner. "I can imagine what you were about to say. No, I'm

-not angry. You're a well-meaning soul, Barnes, but—you may go!"

-

-Barnes needed no second bidding. She slipped quietly out of the room,

-fearing she had done more harm than good; whilst Miss Leighton leaned

-back in her easy chair, a prey to anxious thoughts. She had said she

-would go to St. John's on the following Sunday, and she meant to keep

-her word, for she really was curious to hear Mr. Maloney preach, and

-she hoped she might at any rate catch a glimpse of Peggy, though she

-determined, now, that she would not speak to her. How could she ignore

-the mother and notice the child?

-

-

-

-CHAPTER XIV

-

-CONCLUSION

-

-IT was Sunday afternoon. The children's service at St. John's was

-nearly at an end; and now the Vicar had ascended into the pulpit to

-address a few simple words to his congregation before giving out the

-number of the concluding hymn. He took for his text the Saviour's

-promise, "He that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness," and, in

-the first place, reminded his hearers that in a very few days, they

-would be commemorating the birth of Him Who is called "The Light of the

-World." Would they not try to follow Him? he asked.

-

-Then he pictured the childhood of Jesus, and many a pair of bright

-young eyes grew earnest and thoughtful as their owners' interest was

-chained by the story which the Vicar knew so well how to tell, pointing

-out to the children that the Christ-Child should be their pattern,

-that, like Him, they should be good, and kind, and obedient. And that,

-if they trusted in Him, He would be their Saviour and their Friend.

-

-Finally, he explained that darkness meant selfishness and sin, and that

-the child who was untruthful, or dishonest, or unkind, was walking in

-darkness, apart from God. And that to follow Jesus, they must learn to

-be gentle, and pitiful, and loving, and faithful in word and deed: then

-would Christ's promise be for them—"He that followeth Me shall not walk

-in darkness!"

-

-It was a very short sermon, but so simple that no child could fail to

-understand it; and when it was over, and the Vicar descended from the

-pulpit, Peggy Pringle, who, seated by her brother's side, had listened

-to every word Mr. Maloney had said with the closest attention, turned

-her face to Billy with a pleased smile curving her lips, and thus

-allowed an old lady close behind her, a sight of her profile.

-

-The old lady, who was no other than Miss Leighton, felt her heart begin

-to beat unevenly as she recognised Peggy. She had been on the lookout

-for her all through the service; but the church was so full of children

-that she had not picked out her little great-niece amongst so many, and

-lo! All the while she had been within reach of her hand.

-

-In another minute the congregation had arisen, and with a dream-like

-sensation, Miss Leighton once more listened to the same hymn Peggy had

-sung to her in Cornwall months before:

-

-   "Holy Father, cheer our way

-    With Thy love's perpetual ray:

-    Grant us every closing day

-       Light at evening time."

-

-Tears dimmed the old lady's eyes, and a softening influence stole

-into her proud heart; and when, at the conclusion of the hymn, the

-congregation knelt in prayer, Miss Leighton covered her face with her

-hands and prayed fervently that she, who had walked in darkness so

-long, might be guided into the way of light.

-

-"Barnes, I must speak to Peggy," she said in an agitated voice, as she

-and her maid left the church and stood under the lamp outside. "Do not

-let her pass us by."

-

-"She is with her brother, ma'am," Barnes answered. "I do not think Mrs.

-Pringle is here."

-

-At that instant Peggy and Billy appeared, hand in hand, and Miss

-Leighton stepped quickly forward; but, immediately, Billy put himself

-between her and his sister.

-

-"Go away!" he cried indignantly, for he had recognised Miss Leighton,

-and the wild idea that she might wish to lure Peggy away from him, then

-and there had flashed through his mind. "I'm not going to let you touch

-her!"

-

-"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Leighton in surprise. "Peggy! It's

-I—Aunt Caroline! Won't you speak to me, child?"

-

-At the sound of the well-remembered voice the little girl flushed

-rosily, a look of astonishment and—Miss Leighton saw she was not

-mistaken—of joy lighting up her face; seeing which, Billy allowed her

-to receive the old lady's warm embrace, though he still retained a firm

-grasp of her hand.

-

-"How are you, Peggy?" Miss Leighton began. "You look very well," she

-continued, without waiting for a reply. "We—Barnes and I—came to hear

-your friend Mr. Maloney preach, and I thought I should like a word with

-you. We sat close behind you in church."

-

-"Did you?" said Peggy, smiling. "Wasn't it a nice sermon? And we had my

-favourite hymn! Oh, Aunt Caroline," she proceeded sympathetically, "we

-were so sorry to hear you had been ill. Are you really quite well now?

-Yes. Oh, I'm so glad! Oh, Barnes, how do you do? Aunt Caroline, this is

-Billy. Billy, you remember Aunt Caroline, don't you? You know you saw

-her once before and you said you would know her again."

-

-Billy had no alternative but to shake hands with Miss Leighton. And,

-now he came to regard her more closely, she did not look the sort of

-person who would steal his sister from him. He thought he read goodwill

-towards himself in her face, as he scrutinised it in the light of the

-lamp near which they were standing, and she showed no resentment for

-the decidedly rude way in which he had treated her, the real fact

-being that she had guessed the impulse which had prompted his strange

-behaviour. For some minutes, he watched her talking to Peggy whilst

-Barnes stood aside patiently waiting. Then, he reminded his sister that

-if they did not go home, their mother would wonder what had become of

-them.

-

-"Yes," agreed Peggy, "we mustn't wait any longer. Mother's at home

-alone—it's Sarah's afternoon out—and she's always anxious if we're

-later than she expects us."

-

-"One moment more," said Miss Leighton. "I must wish you a very happy

-Christmas before we part, and I want you to tell me what I can give

-you for a present. Choose whatever you like. And Billy—he must choose

-something too!"

-

-"Oh, how kind of you!" cried Peggy. Whilst Billy's eyes glistened

-with delight, and a look of approval settled on his face—approval of

-this great-aunt of his, against whom he had entertained such a strong

-prejudice before.

-

-"I want to do something to add to your happiness," Miss Leighton said,

-in a voice which trembled with an emotion which she tried in vain to

-repress.

-

-"Do you, Aunt Caroline?" the little girl questioned earnestly. "Do you,

-indeed?"

-

-"Yes, my dear—"

-

-"Then if you really and truly want to add to my happiness," Peggy broke

-in excitedly, "you'll come home with us now—we've not far to go—and be

-friends with mother again! Oh, do come! It grieves mother dreadfully to

-think you're angry with her! But, you're not angry any longer, are you?"

-

-Miss Leighton could not say she was, for her bitterness against Peggy's

-mother had been slowly fading away since she had known Peggy herself.

-Her head was in a whirl with conflicting thoughts. But she felt she

-must accept or decline her little niece's invitation at once—she could

-not discuss it there in the street.

-

-"My dear, I cannot—" she was beginning, when a rush of tenderer,

-better feelings than she had experienced for years filled her heart

-and caused her to hesitate. She looked at Peggy's expectant face with

-its sightless blue eyes, and the last remnant of her pride died away,

-though she repeated, "I cannot, I cannot!"

-

-But the sharp ears of the blind child had caught the note of indecision

-in the other's tone, and taking the old lady by the hand she said

-persuasively:

-

-"Come, Aunt Caroline, we will go on, and Barnes and Billy will follow.

-I know the way quite well. Oh, do come!"

-

-And, much to Barnes's astonishment, and Billy's intense excitement,

-Miss Leighton answered in a voice which no longer wavered, but had

-become decided and firm:

-

-"To please you, little Sunbeam, I will!"

-

-       *       *       *       *       *

-

-"Here's wonderful news from the Pringles!" exclaimed Mrs. Tiddy on

-Christmas morning, as she stood in the hall at Lower Brimley, ready

-to start for church with her husband, and glanced hastily through the

-letter she held in her hand—one of several which the postman had just

-delivered. "I cannot stay to read all Margaret says now, but I see she

-has had a visit from her aunt, and there must have been a complete

-reconciliation, for—fancy, Ebenezer!—the old lady is going to dine with

-them to-day!"

-

-"I'm heartily glad to hear it," Mr. Tiddy responded. "Depend upon it,

-Peggy has brought that about—the reconciliation, I mean. But come, my

-dear, or we shall be late for church."

-

-Then as they passed down the garden path, side by side, he continued:

-

-"I always felt there was One above Who arranged that Miss Leighton and

-Peggy should meet here and get to know each other. I expect the old

-lady will have a happier Christmas to-day than she has had for many a

-long year."

-

-And Mr. Tiddy was right, for this year, Miss Leighton found fresh

-beauty in the angels' message of peace and goodwill, and her Christmas

-Day was a very happy one, spent in her niece's home. God had softened

-her proud heart by the unconscious influence of the blind child, and He

-was granting her light in the evening time of her life. Miss Leighton

-had never felt so rich before as she did on this Christmas Day.

-

-

-

-PRINTED BY

-SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE

-LONDON

-

-

-

-

-

-

+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE SUNBEAM ***
+
+Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
+
+[Illustration: THE CORNISH FLOWER-FARM.]
+
+
+
+                           LITTLE SUNBEAM
+
+
+
+                                 BY
+
+                         ELEANORA H. STOOKE
+
+
+                      AUTHOR OF "GRANFER," ETC.
+
+
+
+                 WITH FRONTISPIECE BY MYRA K. HUGHES
+
+
+
+                              LONDON
+                    NATIONAL SOCIETY'S DEPOSITORY
+                     BROAD SANCTUARY, WESTMINSTER
+            NEW YORK: THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 & 3 BIBLE HOUSE
+
+                       [All rights reserved]
+
+
+
+                            PRINTED BY
+            SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE
+                             LONDON
+
+
+
+                        BY THE SAME AUTHOR
+
+                  GRANFER, and ONE CHRISTMAS TIME.
+                             Price 1s.
+
+                    NATIONAL SOCIETY'S DEPOSITORY,
+                     Sanctuary, Westminster, S. W.
+
+
+
+                             CONTENTS
+
+CHAPTER
+
+   I. KNOCKED DOWN
+
+  II. CONCERNING AUNT CAROLINE
+
+ III. THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION
+
+  IV. PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY
+
+   V. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR
+
+  VI. MISS LEIGHTON'S DISCOVERY
+
+ VII. A GREAT SURPRISE
+
+VIII. CONCERNING ELLEN BARNES
+
+  IX. TEA AT LOWER BRIMLEY
+
+   X. GOOD-BYES
+
+  XI. HOME AGAIN
+
+ XII. AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT
+
+XIII. PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS
+
+ XIV. CONCLUSION
+
+
+
+                           LITTLE SUNBEAM
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+KNOCKED DOWN
+
+"COME along, Billy. Mother said we were not to be long; and I'm sure
+we've been more than half an hour."
+
+The speaker—a little girl of about nine years old, clad in a somewhat
+shabby blue serge coat and skirt, with a Tam o' Shanter cap on her
+golden curls—tried to pull her brother away from the toy shop window
+into which he was gazing longingly; but he resisted, and still lingered.
+
+"There's plenty of time, Peggy," he assured her. "You know we never
+have tea till five o'clock, and you can't imagine what a heap of jolly
+things there are in this window. I wish you could see them."
+
+"I wish I could," she answered. "Never mind, you can tell me all about
+them by-and-by."
+
+It was a cold, dull, February day; but it did not rain, and the street
+was thronged with vehicles, whilst the pedestrians—mostly of the lower
+classes, for the district was a poor one—hustled against each other
+on the pavements. No one took any notice of the two children who had
+been standing before a toy shop window for the last ten minutes. And,
+indeed, there was nothing about them to attract the observation of a
+casual observer, although the countenance of the little girl, with its
+finely-cut features and sweet expression, possessed a delicate beauty
+which was certainly out of the common. No one looking at Peggy Pringle
+would have guessed that she was blind, for her eyes, in colour the
+darkest blue, were as clear as crystal; but the sad fact was that the
+blessing of sight was denied to her.
+
+It had been a terrible trouble to the child's parents when, some months
+after her birth, they had learnt the truth, that the happy baby, whose
+rosebud lips seemed formed only for smiles, and whose eyes were "bits
+of Heaven's blue" as her young mother had used to declare, would never
+see the light of day, and they had grieved deeply. But Peggy had never
+appeared to realise how great was her affliction, and at the present
+time it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to find a more
+contented little girl. "Little Sunbeam" her father had nicknamed her
+years before, and a veritable sunbeam in the household she continued to
+be.
+
+Peggy and her brother, who was only thirteen months her junior, had
+been sent to buy buns for tea, and she was holding the bag which
+contained them with one hand, whilst with the other she kept a firm
+grip of Billy's coat. She was not exactly nervous in a crowd, for she
+had been accustomed to London all her life, and her home was in a
+thickly populated district. But she experienced a sense of bewilderment
+as she listened to the hurrying footsteps on the pavement and the
+continual roll of carriage wheels, and she wished Billy would tire of
+looking into shop windows and return home.
+
+"Come, Billy," she urged again, "mother will wonder what is keeping us.
+Do come."
+
+Accordingly, Billy took his sister by the hand with an air of
+protection, and they walked on. At the corner of the street, they stood
+waiting for a favourable opportunity to cross.
+
+"Is there a policeman near?" asked Peggy.
+
+"There's one on the other side of the road," replied Billy, "but we
+don't want him. I can manage all right. When I say 'Now,' mind you come
+right on."
+
+A minute later Billy cried, "Now!"
+
+So, hand in hand, the children went fearlessly forward. And they would
+have effected the crossing in safety had not a private carriage, drawn
+by a pair of spirited horses, turned the corner from a side street.
+Billy hurried his sister on; but the road was slippery, and, in her
+haste, the little girl stumbled and let go her brother's hand. Some
+one flung Billy on one side, whilst the coachman driving the pair of
+horses pulled them back on their haunches in time to prevent a serious
+accident, but not before one of the animals had struck poor Peggy on
+the shoulder with its hoof. She was borne to the pavement in the arms
+of the policeman whose help Billy had disdained, and in a few minutes a
+small crowd had congregated.
+
+"What has happened?" inquired an imperious voice from the interior of
+the carriage. "Is any one injured?"
+
+"A little girl," answered the policeman. "I think she's more frightened
+than hurt, though," he added, as he set Peggy on the ground, and Billy,
+pale and frightened, rushed to her side.
+
+"Was my coachman at fault?" was the next question.
+
+"No, ma'am. He was driving carefully, and had the horses under proper
+control; but—"
+
+"That's all I want to know, thank you."
+
+A head was thrust out of the carriage window, and the crowd saw the
+face—a haughty, handsome face it was—of a white-haired old lady, who
+beckoned to the policeman to approach, which he did.
+
+"You had better take the little girl to a hospital, if she is hurt,"
+the old lady said, in a tone which expressed neither interest nor
+sympathy. "I suppose that would be your duty? Well, you know your
+business; it is none of mine, as my servant, you assure me, is
+blameless. However, here is my card should you require to communicate
+with me."
+
+The handsome old face drew back from the window, and the carriage was
+driven away, whilst the crowd dispersed, leaving only the policeman and
+one other—an elderly clergyman, who had come upon the scene after the
+accident—with the frightened children.
+
+"Where are you hurt, my dear little girl?"
+
+Peggy's shocked face brightened at the sound of the kindly voice, which
+she recognised immediately as belonging to Mr. Maloney, the Vicar of
+St. John's Church, where her father was the organist.
+
+"It's my shoulder," she answered. "Oh, Mr. Maloney, do please take me
+home!"
+
+"Of course I will, my dear," he responded promptly, with a reassuring
+nod and smile at Billy. "What happened?" he inquired of the policeman,
+who briefly explained, adding that no one had been in fault.
+
+"Billy couldn't have helped it," Peggy said hastily, fearful lest blame
+should be attached to her brother.
+
+"No, the little boy was not to blame," agreed the policeman. "Are you
+going to take charge of the children, sir?" he asked of the clergyman.
+
+"Yes. I know them well; their father is Mr. Pringle, the organist of
+St. John's Church. What is this?" Mr. Maloney questioned as he took the
+card the policeman presented to him.
+
+"The lady in the carriage gave it to me, sir. I have made a note of the
+name and the address. Maybe the little girl's father will make some
+claim—"
+
+"I imagine not," interposed the clergyman quickly; "but I will take the
+card and give it to Mr. Pringle. Thank you,"—and he slipped the bit of
+pasteboard into his vest pocket.
+
+"Oh, Billy, I dropped the buns!" exclaimed Peggy regretfully. They had
+no money to buy more, and the buns had been purchased for a treat.
+
+"The horses trod on them," Billy replied; "but, never mind, mother
+won't think anything about them when she knows what's happened. I'm
+afraid she'll never trust you out alone with me any more."
+
+The little girl made no response. The pain in her shoulder was making
+her feel sick and faint, and her legs trembled as she walked along by
+Mr. Maloney's side, her hand in his. He saw she was suffering, and
+regarded her with compassionate eyes, whilst he exchanged remarks
+with Billy. Soon she began to lose the drift of her companions'
+conversation, and when at length, home—a small house, one of a
+terrace—was reached, the shock she had received proved too much for
+her, and she fell insensible into her mother's arms.
+
+When Peggy regained consciousness, she found herself undressed and
+in bed. Everything was very quiet, but she was aware of some one's
+presence, and it was no surprise when soft lips met hers in a loving
+kiss, and her mother's voice said, "You are better, Peggy dear."
+
+Then she was gently raised in bed, and, to her astonishment, she found
+her shoulder was bandaged; but she was not in much pain now, so she
+took the bread and milk offered to her, and lay down again, feeling
+strangely weak and tired, and disinclined to talk.
+
+"Sleep if you can, darling," her mother said tenderly. "You will be
+much stronger to-morrow. The doctor has attended to your poor shoulder.
+Thank God you are not more seriously hurt!"
+
+"What is the time mother?" Peggy asked. "Have you had tea? I was so
+sorry about the buns. I dropped them, you know."
+
+"Did you? As if that mattered! No, we have not had tea. We have been
+too anxious about you to think of it. Now we shall have tea and supper
+together. It is nearly seven o'clock—not quite your usual bedtime, but
+never mind that to-night. Rest will do you good. I want you to sleep."
+
+"I am very tired," Peggy murmured, "but I haven't said my prayers,
+and my head feels so funny that I can't think. I will say my 'little
+prayer' to-night.' Then she repeated very slowly and softly:
+
+   "Holy Father, cheer our way
+    With Thy love's perpetual ray:
+    Grant us every closing day
+       Light at evening time."
+
+It was a pathetic prayer, coming as it did from the lips of one who
+lived in permanent darkness. But it had been one of the first Peggy had
+learnt and she had always been very fond of it, calling it her "little
+prayer." To-night her eyelids closed as she repeated the last line, and
+a few minutes later she had fallen asleep.
+
+Mrs. Pringle remained by the bedside some while longer, tears, which
+she had repressed till now, running down her cheeks, though her heart
+was full of gratitude to Him Who had spared her child's life. She was a
+most affectionate mother, devoted to both her children; but her little
+daughter, doubtless by reason of her affliction, was always her first
+care. She shuddered as she thought what might have been the result of
+the accident that afternoon, and pictured her darling trampled beneath
+the horses' hoofs.
+
+"God gave His angels charge over her," she murmured, as she bent her
+head once more, and kissed the little sleeper. Then she stole softly
+away, and went downstairs to the sitting-room where Billy his father
+were keeping each other company, both heavy-hearted, though the doctor
+had assured them there was no cause for alarm.
+
+"How is she now?" they asked, with one accord, as she entered the room.
+
+"Sleeping peacefully," she told them, a smile lighting up her pale,
+tearful countenance. "You may go and look at her; but please be very
+careful not to disturb her. I have every hope that she will be better
+after a good rest. We have much to thank God for this night!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+CONCERNING AUNT CAROLINE
+
+WHEN Mr. Pringle and Billy returned to the sitting-room after having
+been upstairs to look at Peggy asleep so comfortably, they found that
+Mrs. Pringle, with the assistance of Sarah, the maid-of-all-work of the
+establishment, had prepared the long-delayed tea. Whilst the family sat
+down to the meal, Sarah, at her own suggestion, went to keep watch by
+the little sleeper; and a few minutes later there was a knock at the
+front door.
+
+"Go and see who's there, Billy," said Mr. Pringle. "I should not be
+surprised if it is Mr. Maloney," he proceeded, turning to his wife,
+"for he was very concerned about Peggy and said he hoped to look in
+by-and-by to hear the doctor's report."
+
+And Mr. Maloney the visitor proved to be. He accepted Mrs. Pringle's
+offer of a cup of tea, and took the chair Billy placed for him at the
+table.
+
+"I am glad to know the doctor thinks your little girl is not much
+hurt," he said in his pleasant voice. "Billy greeted me with the good
+news the moment he opened the door."
+
+"The only injury she has sustained is to her shoulder," replied Mr.
+Pringle, "but of course she has experienced a great shock. Her escape
+from a frightful death was quite providential," he added with a slight
+break in his voice.
+
+"Quite," Mr. Maloney agreed. "It was too bad of the owner of the
+carriage to drive on, as she did, without ascertaining the extent of
+the poor child's injuries," he continued warmly. "The least she could
+have done, under the circumstances, one would have thought, would have
+been to have driven her home."
+
+"She was a nasty old woman, I'm sure she was," declared Billy with
+flushing cheeks and sparkling eyes. "She told the policeman, he had
+better take Peggy to a hospital if she was hurt, and she said it was
+his business, not hers. She spoke in such a proud way—as though she
+didn't care for anything or any one."
+
+"Well, Peggy found a friend in need," Mr. Pringle remarked with a
+grateful glance at Mr. Maloney, who smiled and said he was glad to have
+been of service.
+
+The Vicar and the organist of St. John's were on terms of friendship,
+though the former was elderly and the latter not middle-aged. Mr.
+Maloney had lived most of his life in London. He was a hard worker,
+and much beloved by all who knew him. But some of his acquaintances
+declared him lacking in ambition, for on several occasions he had
+declined preferment, choosing to retain the living of St. John's, which
+he had held for more than twenty years. He was an unmarried man, and
+consequently the living, though a poor one, supplied his simple needs.
+
+He was getting an old man now, but the bright, unquenchable light of
+that enthusiasm which had made him a faithful labourer in Christ's
+vineyard all his days still shone in his earnest, deep-set eyes, and
+earnestness was stamped indelibly upon his countenance. And the truth
+was that his ambition soared far and away beyond the worldly meaning of
+the term: he was working for the "Well done" of the Master for Whose
+sake he had elected to live amongst those of little account in this
+world.
+
+Mr. Pringle had been the organist of St. John's since his marriage ten
+years previously. He was a tall, fair man with a thoughtful face and
+clear blue eyes. Peggy much resembled him; whilst Billy took after his
+mother in appearance, being brown-haired and brown-eyed. The Pringles
+were a very united family, and theirs was a happy home though it was
+a rather poor one, and Mr. Pringle was glad to add to his salary by
+taking music pupils.
+
+"I did not see the owner of the carriage," Mr. Maloney remarked
+by-and-by, after they had discussed Peggy's accident at some length.
+"Why, dear me, how stupid of me!" he exclaimed, a sudden recollection
+crossing his mind. "I have her card in my pocket here! She gave it
+to the policeman, who, in his turn, gave it to me, thinking that you
+might be inclined to seek redress from her for poor Peggy's injuries, I
+believe. Let us see who the unsympathetic old lady is."
+
+He had produced the card by this time, and now handed it to Mrs.
+Pringle, who glanced at it, uttered a cry of astonishment, and grew
+very red.
+
+"You know her?" Mr. Maloney inquired.
+
+"Yes," she replied in a low tone, "I do. I can understand that she
+evinced no interest—though she could not have known whose child Peggy
+was."
+
+She passed the card to her husband as she spoke.
+
+A brief silence followed, during which Billy, keenly observant, noticed
+that his mother was trembling, and that his father's face had grown
+very stern.
+
+"Who is the lady, father?" he ventured to ask at length.
+
+"She is called Miss Leighton," was the answer. "You never heard of her,
+Billy; but I expect you have?" he said, addressing Mr. Maloney.
+
+"I think not," the Vicar responded. "Is she a person of importance?"
+
+"She is a very rich woman. Her father was James Leighton, the great
+ironfounder who died so immensely wealthy—"
+
+"Ah, then I have heard of her," Mr. Maloney broke in. "But I thought
+she was quite a philanthropist—hardly the sort of woman who would act
+as this Miss Leighton did to-day."
+
+"That is exactly how she would act," Mrs. Pringle said decidedly. "We
+are speaking of the same person. She gives away vast amounts of money
+yearly to charities, but she denies herself nothing in order to do so,
+for she is very wealthy. She was never a woman who showed kindness in
+little ways or to individuals. I know her well; in fact, she is my
+aunt."
+
+"Really?" the Vicar said, looking intensely astonished. He knew the
+Pringles were not well off—that they lived solely on Mr. Pringle's
+earnings, and it seemed odd that so rich and charitable a lady as Miss
+Leighton should do so much for strangers and nothing for her relations.
+
+"The truth is, my wife offended her aunt by marrying me," Mr. Pringle
+explained, rightly reading the expression of Mr. Maloney's countenance;
+"and Miss Leighton never forgives any one who offends her."
+
+"Then God help her!" the Vicar exclaimed solemnly.
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Pringle, sighing, "poor Aunt Caroline! She was very
+good to me years ago, she had me educated when my parents died, and
+afterwards she allowed me to live with her. She would have continued
+to provide for me, if I had not become engaged to John," glancing at
+her husband with a loving smile. "I had to choose between him and Aunt
+Caroline, and since my marriage I have never seen my aunt. 'She washed
+her hands of me,' she said, on my wedding day. She declared she would
+never willingly look on my face again, and I know she will keep her
+word."
+
+"You can realise now what sacrifices my wife has made for my sake," Mr.
+Pringle said, rather sadly, as he met Mr. Maloney's interested glance.
+
+"I have made no sacrifices," Mrs. Pringle returned quickly. "But,
+sometimes it grieves me to think of the bitter feelings Aunt Caroline
+harbours against me. She considers me ungrateful; I was never that. I
+do not want her money, but I should like to be on friendly terms with
+her. It was ten years ago I saw her; she must be getting an old woman."
+
+"She looked very old, mother," Billy said, and as he spoke, Mrs.
+Pringle started, for in the excitement of talking of her aunt, whom she
+rarely mentioned now even to her husband, she had forgotten the boy was
+present, listening to every word.
+
+"Her hair was quite white," he continued, "as white as snow. I didn't
+like her eyes, they were so very sharp. Oh, mother, how odd that she
+should be your aunt! And how surprised she would have been, if she had
+found out that Peggy was your little girl, wouldn't she? I expect she
+would have been sorry for her, then, don't you think so?"
+
+"I—I—perhaps so," his mother replied, "but she did not find out, and it
+was best as it was."
+
+She took up the card which her husband had laid on the table and tore
+it into little bits, which, upon rising, she threw into the fire.
+
+"There, we will talk no more of Aunt Caroline," she said. "Thinking of
+her always makes me unhappy, and I don't want to be that to-night, when
+I ought to be feeling nothing but thankfulness on Peggy's account."
+
+A short while later, Mr. Maloney took his departure, and, after that,
+Billy said good-night to his parents and went upstairs. He peeped into
+Peggy's room; but did not go in, for Sarah, who was still watching by
+the bedside, raised a warning finger when she caught sight of him in
+the doorway. She was to be relieved from her post very soon by her
+mistress, whose intention it was to sit up all night.
+
+Although Billy was really tired and was soon in bed, it was long before
+he could get to sleep, for he felt strangely restless and excited; he
+continually pictured the pair of high-stepping horses which had so
+nearly trodden his sister beneath their hoofs, and he was haunted by
+the proud face of the old lady who had appeared so unconcerned.
+
+"She must be very wicked," thought the little boy, "for father said she
+never forgives any one who offends her. How dreadful that is! Doesn't
+she know it's wrong, I wonder! And, oh, how strange that she should be
+mother's aunt! How surprised Peggy will be when she knows!"
+
+Then he forgot Miss Leighton in thinking of Peggy once more. He had not
+omitted to thank his Father in Heaven, as he had knelt by his bedside
+before getting into bed, for having spared his sister's life; but
+his full heart thanked Him again and again as he lay awake mentally
+reviewing the events of the last few hours, and he fell asleep, at
+length, with the fervent prayer upon his lips:
+
+   "Dear Jesus, please always take care of Peggy, and remember she is
+blind."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION
+
+A MONTH had elapsed since Peggy's accident, and the little girl, though
+about again, had not recovered her usual health and spirits. Her mother
+watched her with loving solicitude, noting how shattered her nerves
+seemed to be, for she started at any sudden sound and dreaded being
+left alone. The doctor pronounced her to be suffering from the effects
+of the shock to her nervous system, prescribed a complete change of
+air, and said time would work a cure.
+
+"How can we send her away for a change?" Mrs. Pringle asked her husband
+despairingly. "It is impossible."
+
+"I wish you could take her to the seaside for a few weeks, Margaret,"
+Mr. Pringle responded, looking much troubled. "But I really do not see
+how it can be managed—where the money is to come from, I mean."
+
+"Never mind, father," Peggy said quickly, "I am sure I shall be well
+soon. I am a lot better, really."
+
+"Do you feel so, darling?" he questioned, as he drew her towards him,
+and anxiously scrutinised her face.
+
+Then, as she assured him she did, he kissed her gently, an expression
+of deep pain and regret on his own countenance.
+
+It grieved Mr. Pringle that he could not afford his little daughter
+the change of air which the doctor had prescribed, and he went off to
+give a music lesson with a very heavy heart. When he returned, an hour
+later, upon opening the front door the sound of a man's hearty laugh
+fell upon his ears, and almost immediately Peggy, with a flush of
+excitement on her cheeks, came out of the sitting-room, her sensitive
+ears having warned her of his arrival, and whispered:
+
+"Oh, father, we've a visitor! Guess who it is. But, no, you never will,
+so I may as well tell you. It's Mr. Tiddy. You remember who he is,
+don't you? The Cornish gentleman who married Miss Bates."
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Pringle, suddenly enlightened. Miss Bates had
+been a school friend of his wife's. The two had always corresponded
+regularly, though they had not met of late. Miss Bates had earned her
+living as a governess until five years previously, when she had married
+a well-to-do farmer in Cornwall.
+
+"He is a very nice man, father," Peggy continued, "and he's brought us
+a hamper full of all sorts of good things to eat—cream, and butter, and
+eggs, and a big cake, which his wife made herself, with a sugary top,
+and a couple of chickens! Do come and see him at once."
+
+Accordingly Mr. Pringle allowed his little daughter to lead him into
+the sitting-room, where the visitor was being entertained by Mrs.
+Pringle and Billy, and after a few minutes' conversation with him, he
+mentally agreed with Peggy that this new acquaintance was a very nice
+man.
+
+Ebenezer Tiddy was a thorough countryman in appearance, being clad
+in a tweed suit, and boots which had evidently been made to keep out
+inches deep of mud. He was tall and vigorous, with a ruddy, kindly
+countenance, and steady grey eyes which looked one straight in the
+face. He had entered the house a complete stranger half an hour before,
+but already the children were at their ease with him, and Mrs. Pringle
+was looking decidedly more cheerful than when her husband had left her
+after their conversation about the doctor's prescription. Mr. Pringle
+felt glad Mr. Tiddy had come, since his presence had evidently proved
+exhilarating.
+
+"I arrived in town last night," the visitor explained, "and the first
+thing this morning I said to myself, 'I'd better execute my wife's
+business before I attend to my own.' And now you're here, Mr. Pringle,
+I'll speak of the real object of my visit. Said my wife to me one day
+last week, 'Ebenezer, how I should like to have little Peggy Pringle
+to stay with us for a while! Her mother has written to me that she met
+with an accident and doesn't seem to pick up after it as she ought. I
+believe a change of air would be the best medicine for her now.'"
+
+Here Mr. Tiddy paused, and looked at Peggy, who, sensitive like all
+blind people, was fully conscious of his gaze.
+
+"Oh, Mr. Tiddy!" she exclaimed. "And—what did you say?"
+
+"That she'd better write and invite you to visit us at once, my dear,
+believing, as I do, that Cornish breezes and Cornish living would
+make you strong in no time. 'But she can't travel alone,' said my
+wife, who is quicker of thought than I am, 'and how are we to get her
+here, Ebenezer?' 'That can be easily managed,' I replied; 'when I go
+to London next week to interview the florist who is going to buy our
+flowers this spring, I'll ask her parents to trust her to me.' And
+if they will," concluded Mr. Tiddy, looking smilingly first at Mrs.
+Pringle, then at her husband, "I am sure I shall be very pleased and
+proud, and my wife and myself will do our best to make her visit a
+happy one. The little maid won't have any children for playmates, but
+I don't think she'll be dull, for there's always something or other to
+interest folks at a farm, and I need hardly say we'll take good care of
+her."
+
+"How kind you are!" Mrs. Pringle exclaimed, her face alight with
+pleasure, "Peggy does indeed need a change very badly, and we have been
+bemoaning the fact that we could not give her one. I am sure she would
+be quite happy with you and your wife."
+
+"I remember Miss Bates," said Peggy. "She stayed with us once when I
+was a little girl."
+
+"And what are you now, pray?" asked Mr. Tiddy, highly amused. "A big
+girl, eh?"
+
+"I am nine years old," she answered, in a dignified tone. "But I am not
+very tall for my age."
+
+"Cornish air will make you grow. Will you make up your mind, then, to
+travel westwards with me? Would your brother care to come too?"
+
+"Billy goes to school, and it is the middle of the term," Mrs. Pringle
+explained; "being Saturday, it is the weekly holiday: that is why you
+find him at home now. You are very kind to give him an invitation, but
+he knows he must not neglect his work."
+
+"He must pay us a visit in his summer holidays, then," said Mr. Tiddy,
+sympathising with the disappointment he read in the little boy's face.
+"I shall not forget. And now, Mrs. Pringle, do you think you can part
+with your little maid on Tuesday? I hope to return to Cornwall as soon
+as that. I only require one clear day in town to transact my business."
+
+"Peggy can be ready by Tuesday," Mrs. Pringle answered, after a few
+moments' reflection, whilst Peggy herself felt quite bewildered by the
+suddenness with which everything was being arranged.
+
+"Come and spend to-morrow with us," suggested Mr. Pringle hospitably,
+"that is, if you have made no previous engagement."
+
+"I have not. Thank you, I shall be delighted to come," answered Mr.
+Tiddy, his countenance beaming with pleasure. "I have heard so much of
+you all from my wife that I can't fancy you were strangers to me till
+this last hour."
+
+When at length he took his departure, which was after a little further
+conversation, he seemed quite an old friend, and the children were
+pleased and excited at the prospect of his visit on the morrow.
+
+"It is as though a load has been lifted off my shoulders," Mr. Pringle
+confessed, as he returned to the sitting-room after having said
+good-bye to Mr. Tiddy at the front door. He sat down in an arm-chair
+as he spoke, and his little daughter took a stool at his feet and
+rested her golden head against his knee. "It seems so marvellous this
+invitation should have come for Peggy just at this very time," he
+proceeded earnestly, "when it seemed utterly impossible to carry out
+the doctor's prescription. Surely God must have prompted Mr. Tiddy to
+come to us to-day."
+
+"Yes, and there's no one I would so gladly entrust Peggy to as my old
+friend," Mrs. Pringle answered contentedly. "You're pleased you're
+going, are you not, Peggy?" she questioned, noticing a faint shadow on
+her little daughter's face.
+
+"Y-e-s," was the response, given a trifle doubtfully. The thought of
+a visit to Cornwall had filled Peggy with a transport of delight at
+first; but now, she had had time to reflect that she would have no
+mother and father and Billy with her, and she had never been parted
+from them before. "I shall miss you all so much," she murmured with
+quivering lips, "and Cornwall is so far away."
+
+"We shall miss you, little Sunbeam," her father assured her as he
+softly stroked her curly hair, "but we are glad you are going, because
+we want you to get well and strong. I believe you will have a most
+enjoyable time, and, of one thing I am quite certain, that both Mr. and
+Mrs. Tiddy will be kindness itself. I only hope they won't spoil you
+and want to keep you altogether."
+
+"I shouldn't stay, if they did," Peggy returned, half indignant at the
+suggestion. "And—and I'm beginning to wish I wasn't going at all."
+
+She lay awake a long while that night, crying at the thought of the
+coming separation from her family, but she did not admit it the next
+morning.
+
+Mr. Tiddy spent Sunday with his new friends as had been arranged, and
+in the evening he accompanied them to St. John's. After the service, he
+waited with Mrs. Pringle and the children to hear the voluntary. It was
+"The Heavens are telling," which Mr. Pringle played at his visitor's
+request.
+
+"Did you like it, Mr. Tiddy?" Peggy whispered at the conclusion of the
+piece as they passed out of the church.
+
+"Yes, I liked it," he answered earnestly. "Your father plays the organ
+beautifully. 'The Heavens are telling the glory of God!' So they do,
+don't they?" They were in the street by now, Peggy's hand in the firm
+clasp of her new friend. "I can't tell how folks can prefer to live in
+town," he proceeded. "Give me the country and plenty of fresh air. Ah,
+my dear, I'll show you some rare sights in Cornwall—"
+
+"You forget," interposed Peggy, "I cannot see."
+
+"Poor dear!" he said softly. "How thoughtless of me to forget!"
+
+"Does it seem to you very dreadful to be blind?" she asked, catching
+the tone of tender sympathy in his deep voice.
+
+Then, as he hesitated what answer to make, she continued:
+
+"You know, I shall never see as long as I live, but I think I shall get
+on very well. Mother says I am very useful in the house. I am learning
+to do lots of things—to play the piano and to knit, and father says, if
+he had more money—Oh, here are the others!" And she suddenly broke off.
+
+That was the first occasion on which Peggy had been to church since her
+accident. Her mother had been doubtful about taking her to-night, and
+had wanted to leave her at home with Sarah for her companion. But the
+little girl had begged to be allowed to go, and had gained her own way,
+and the service had had a beneficial effect upon her, having soothed
+her nerves instead of having excited them. She slept well that night,
+and the next day was spent in making preparations for her visit, and
+passed so busily that when bedtime came again, she was too weary to lie
+awake thinking of the parting from all those who made up her little
+world, which was so near at hand.
+
+She was called early on the following morning, and after breakfast—of
+which she partook but little—and a somewhat tearful good-bye to Billy
+and Sarah, she drove off in a cab with her parents to Paddington
+railway station, where she was consigned to the care of Mr. Tiddy, who
+had already selected a comfortable carriage and procured a foot-warmer
+for his little charge.
+
+"Good-bye, Peggy, darling," whispered her mother, as the guard bustled
+by requesting people to take their places. "God bless and protect you,
+dear."
+
+"Good-bye, little Sunbeam," said her father cheerily, as he lifted her
+into the carriage and wrapped her up in a rug. "We shall expect you to
+come back well and strong."
+
+"Yes," murmured Peggy, bravely smiling. "Good-bye—oh, good-bye!"
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY
+
+ON a certain bright March morning, Mrs. Tiddy stood beneath the
+creeper-covered porch at the front door of Lower Brimley Farm, waiting
+for her husband, who had been up and out-of-doors since daybreak, to
+return to breakfast. Mr. Tiddy had arrived home from London on the
+previous evening, having brought Peggy Pringle with him. But the little
+girl, over-tired as the result of the long journey, had been sleeping
+firmly when her hostess had visited her bedroom half an hour before,
+and orders had been given that she was not to be awakened.
+
+The mistress of Lower Brimley was a small-sized woman with a trim
+figure and a pleasant countenance, which wore a very contented
+expression at the present moment. The view over which Mrs. Tiddy's blue
+eyes wandered admiringly was a most beautiful one, for Lower Brimley
+was situated on the slope of a hill, not ten minutes' walk from the sea
+and the small fishing village which straggled in one steep street from
+the beach to the old grey church on the cliff.
+
+The soft air was sweet with the scent of flowers on this sunny spring
+morning, for the land close by was given up to the cultivation of
+daffodils and narcissi of nearly every species, which flourished in the
+rich moist soil and were now in full bloom, and the garden in front of
+the house was a fine show, too, with violets, hyacinths, and purple
+and scarlet anemones, against a background of rhododendron bushes. In
+short, there was a wealth of flowers everywhere; and as Mrs. Tiddy's
+contemplative gaze roamed over her own domain to the distant sea,
+glimmering like silver in the bright sunshine, it was caught and held
+by the golden furze on the cliffs, and she murmured admiringly:
+
+"What a glorious sight! And to think that that dear child will never
+know how beautiful it all is! How sad to be blind!"
+
+An expression of deep regret crossed Mrs. Tiddy's face as she thought
+of her little visitor; but it gave place to a bright smile as she
+caught sight of her husband approaching. And she ran down the path
+to the garden gate to meet him, anxious to hear that he had found
+everything on the farm in good order. She was soon satisfied upon
+that point, for he was in high spirits, and complimented her upon
+her management during his absence. And then they went into the
+house together, and sat down to breakfast in the parlour, a large
+comfortably-furnished room, the windows of which commanded a view of
+the village and the sea.
+
+"And how is my fellow-traveller?" Mr. Tiddy inquired by-and-by.
+
+"She was sleeping firmly half an hour ago and I have given orders that
+she is not to be disturbed," his wife-responded. "She was so very tired
+last night, and I fancy she felt home-sick—poor little soul! She has
+never been away from her own people before, you see, and oh, Ebenezer,
+think how helpless one must feel to be always in darkness!"
+
+"Yes," he agreed, "but though she has been denied sight, her other
+senses seem preternaturally keen. It's always the way with blind
+people, I've heard. And—why, here she comes!"
+
+Mr. Tiddy rose as the door opened, and Peggy stood hesitating upon the
+threshold of the room. Going to her side, he gave her a hearty kiss,
+inquired how she was this morning, and, having been assured that she
+was quite well, led her to his wife.
+
+"I thought you were still in bed and asleep, my dear child," said Mrs.
+Tiddy, her voice expressing the surprise she felt.
+
+"I woke up, and I was afraid I was late for breakfast, so I dressed as
+quickly as I could and came down," Peggy explained, as she returned
+Mrs. Tiddy's kiss and took the chair by her side.
+
+"How clever of you to find your way alone!"
+
+"Clever!" laughed Peggy. "You forget I had my supper in this room last
+night, and I heard your voices as I came downstairs. What a lovely
+morning, isn't it? I smelt violets and hyacinths when I opened my
+bedroom window, and I heard the sea."
+
+"The sea is very calm to-day, almost as still as a mill-pond," remarked
+Mr. Tiddy somewhat dubiously. "You must have very sharp ears, if you
+heard it."
+
+"Oh, but I did," persisted Peggy. "The waves were whispering ever so
+softly, but I heard them. I was never at the seaside but once before,
+when we all went to Bournemouth for a week, nearly two years ago."
+
+The little girl was looking very bright this morning, and she did full
+justice to the fried bacon and chopped potatoes to which Mr. Tiddy
+helped her, remarking, as he did so, that he hoped she could enjoy
+country fare. And at the conclusion of the meal, he suggested that she
+should put on her hat and jacket and go for a stroll with him about the
+farm, whilst his wife attended to her domestic duties in the house.
+
+Accordingly, Peggy accompanied her host out into the brilliant spring
+sunshine, and asked him numerous questions about his flowers. He
+explained all about their cultivation, and watched her with keenly
+interested eyes as she felt the various blooms with her sensitive
+fingers.
+
+"I shall remember all you have told me," she declared. "This is a
+'Princess Mary,' is it not? And this is the daffodil you said the
+country people call 'butter and eggs'?"
+
+"Yes!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "But how can you possibly tell?"
+
+"I can feel the difference, Mr. Tiddy, and I can smell. It seems to me
+all these daffodils have different scents."
+
+"To me, they are alike," he admitted, "but I suppose they are not.
+Really, Peggy, you are a very clever little girl."
+
+When they returned to the house they went by the back way, where,
+in the yard, they were met by a big, black-and-white smooth-haired
+sheep-dog, who sniffed at Peggy suspiciously at first. But when she
+ventured to extend her hand to him, he licked it with his great pink
+tongue, whilst a very soft expression crept into his amber eyes.
+
+"He likes you, my dear," Mr. Tiddy said. "And he does not take to every
+one, let me tell you. He evidently intends to regard you as a friend."
+
+"What is his name?" Peggy inquired, as she passed her hand over the
+dog's sleek head.
+
+"Wolf. We gave him the name when he was a puppy, because he was such a
+lean, fierce-looking creature. He is a splendid house-dog; but he is
+not very sociable, as a rule. He seems to have taken a fancy to you,
+however."
+
+"He knows I like him," Peggy said, as she caressed her new
+acquaintance, who continued to wag his tail amicably. "What a tall dog
+he is! Wolf—dear old Wolf!"
+
+The animal gave a delighted cry, and Mr. Tiddy nodded his head
+approvingly.
+
+"I'm glad he's taken to you," he said. "For you couldn't get a better
+protector than Wolf."
+
+Peggy never forgot that first day at Lower Brimley. The afternoon she
+passed quietly in the house with Mrs. Tiddy, who wrote a long letter to
+her old school fellow in which were many messages from Peggy.
+
+"Tell her how much I miss them all," said the little girl. "But please
+say, too, that I am sure I shall be very happy here, because every one
+is so kind to me, and it is a lovely, lovely place! And, please don't
+forget to send my dear love!" And for a few minutes, her blue eyes were
+full of tears.
+
+"Peggy," said Mrs. Tiddy by-and-by, "I have heard all the details in
+connection with your accident from my husband, and I do not wonder it
+was a shock to your nerves. Is your shoulder quite well now, dear?"
+
+"Oh, yes, Mrs. Tiddy. It got well very quickly. Every one said it was
+a wonder I was not killed; but I think myself God took especial care
+of me, because He knew I wasn't quite like other people—not being able
+to see, you know. Mr. Maloney—that's the Vicar of St. John's—thinks so
+too. Wasn't it strange that it should have been mother's aunt who was
+in the carriage?"
+
+"Very. Your mother never sees her Aunt Caroline, does she?"
+
+"Never. Do you know her, Mrs. Tiddy?"
+
+"No, though, of course, I have heard a good bit about her from your
+mother."
+
+"Billy and I never heard of her at all till my accident. I don't think
+she can be nice; and Billy said she looked very proud. I heard her
+speak, but I was too frightened then to take much notice of her voice.
+I always tell what people are like by their voices."
+
+"Do you, my dear?"
+
+"Yes," Peggy nodded. "I knew Mr. Tiddy was good and kind, the moment I
+heard him speak: I felt I could trust him. Do you know, I quite enjoyed
+the journey yesterday, after we had properly started. Of course, I
+didn't like saying good-bye to mother and father. I had never been in a
+corridor-train before, and we had dinner at a big table just as though
+we were in a proper room, and there was a kitchen on the train, and
+cooks. Oh, how Billy would have liked to have been there! What a lot I
+shall have to tell him when I go home! Oh, Mrs. Tiddy, it was kind of
+you to think of inviting me to stay with you!"
+
+"I am sure your visit will be a great pleasure to me, my dear," Mrs.
+Tiddy replied cordially. "And I shall be well content, if I can send
+you home with roses in your cheeks. To-morrow I will take you into the
+village and down to the beach; but I must not let you do too much on
+your first day. There, I have finished my letter, and can now have an
+idle hour before tea."
+
+She put aside her writing materials as she spoke, and went to the
+window, where Peggy was seated, listening to the sparrows twittering
+beneath the eaves of the roof and the sound of children's voices wafted
+upwards from the village below.
+
+"You and Mr. Tiddy are so very kind to take so much trouble to explain
+everything to me," the little girl said, with a grateful ring in her
+sweet, clear voice, "that I am already beginning to know this place
+quite well—the house and the grounds, too."
+
+"Shall I tell you what I see from this window?" asked Mrs. Tiddy.
+
+"Oh, please!" Peggy answered delightedly. Then as her kind hostess
+did so, she listened with attention, her face aglow with interest and
+pleasure. "How well you make me understand!" she cried, as Mrs. Tiddy
+ceased speaking. She leaned her head out of the open window and sniffed
+the fresh salt breeze appreciatively, and listened to the murmur of the
+sea. It seemed a very beautiful world to Peggy in spite of her lack of
+sight.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR
+
+IN a very few days, Peggy had settled into the routine of life at Lower
+Brimley, and had become well known by sight to the villagers, who took
+a kindly interest in Mrs. Tiddy's guest—"the pretty little maid," as
+they called her, who, though she was blind, could play the piano, so
+the servants at the farm reported, and was so clever that wherever she
+went once she could go by herself a second time.
+
+Accompanied by the lean, long-legged sheep-dog, she was now a familiar
+figure on the beach, where she would sit for hours, listening to the
+incessant murmur of the sea or talking to the fishermen, whose deep
+voices insensibly softened in addressing her. For nowhere so much as in
+Cornwall is more respect shown to those whom God has afflicted; and,
+though Peggy knew it not, she was continually watched by friendly eyes
+to see that she came to no harm.
+
+Mrs. Tiddy, who had been nervous about letting her visitor wander out
+of her sight at first, soon grew less vigilant, and was quite satisfied
+if she knew Wolf was with her, for the dog had constituted himself
+her faithful companion, and showed marked signs of jealousy, if any
+stranger came near her.
+
+One afternoon, about a week after her arrival at Lower Brimley, Peggy
+was standing in a gateway waiting for Mr. Tiddy, who had gone across
+a meadow to look at some sheep, when Wolf, as usual at her side, gave
+a low, warning growl and drew closer to her. She put her hand on the
+dog's collar and listened, hearing at length the sound of footsteps
+slowly approaching. Some one was evidently ascending the hill which led
+from the village to the farm.
+
+After that one growl, Wolf remained silent, and Peggy did not move as
+the footsteps drew near. But when they suddenly stopped, the little
+girl, still holding the dog by the collar, turned her face, with an
+inquiring expression upon it, towards the spot where she knew some
+one—a woman, she thought, from the sound of the footsteps—to be.
+
+"Can you tell me, if this is the way to Lower Brimley Farm?" asked a
+somewhat patronising voice—the voice of a lady, Peggy's sharp ears
+informed her at once.
+
+"Yes," the little girl answered. "You will come within sight of the
+house, I know, when you turn the next corner. Are you going to call on
+Mrs. Tiddy? Perhaps you are a friend of hers? She is not at home; she
+has driven in to Penzance."
+
+"And I have driven from Penzance. But I have no acquaintance with Mrs.
+Tiddy—the mistress at the farm, I presume? I have no desire to see
+her, but I want to have a look at her flowers. I am told the daffodils
+and narcissi at Lower Brimley are especially fine. People talk so much
+nowadays of the flower-farms of Cornwall that I am curious to see one."
+
+The speaker—a tall, thin, erect old lady, with snow-white hair and
+very sharp dark eyes, looked carelessly at the child, and proceeded to
+question her: "Do you live here? Are you the farmer's daughter?"
+
+"No; I am no relation to either Mr. or Mrs. Tiddy, although they are
+so very kind to me," Peggy answered simply. "My home is in London;
+I am only here on a visit. I am sure Mr. Tiddy will let you look at
+his flowers; he is very proud of them, and no wonder, for they are so
+beautiful! He has gone across the meadow, but he will return directly.
+Perhaps you can see him?"
+
+"Do you mean that big man in breeches and leggings?"
+
+"Yes, that's Mr. Tiddy. I promised to wait here with Wolf—that's the
+dog—till he came back. Is he far off? Is he coming this way?"
+
+"Cannot you use your eyes, child?" began the lady, a trifle
+impatiently. Then she paused abruptly, and scanned the little girl's
+face with keener scrutiny.
+
+"I cannot see," Peggy responded, "because I am blind."
+
+"Blind! How shocking!"
+
+The stranger's voice had softened perceptibly, and sounded no longer
+indifferent. Peggy, conscious of the change, smiled, and a faint colour
+rose to her pale cheeks as she remarked:
+
+"Every one is surprised to hear I am blind, but it is quite true."
+
+"And have you been blind long?"
+
+"All my life."
+
+"And yet you look happy!" was the wondering exclamation.
+
+"I am very happy. Mother says I must always remember how many blessings
+God has given me, and so I do. Oh, here is Mr. Tiddy!" the little girl
+cried, with a sudden change of tone.
+
+The farmer came up, glancing curiously at Peggy's companion, who now
+put forward a request—it sounded almost like a command—to see his
+flowers, adding that she had come from Penzance on purpose to look at
+them, and had left her carriage at the foot of the hill.
+
+"You are just in time to see them at their best," Mr. Tiddy told her
+pleasantly. "In another week, I shall have cut them all: we rear them
+for the London markets. Lead the way, Peggy. A little friend of ours
+from town," he explained, lowering his voice as the child and the dog
+went on ahead. "She's been laid up ill and hasn't picked up her health
+and spirits yet. We're trying what our Cornish air will do for her."
+
+"I trust it will do wonders," said the lady, and her voice, though
+still cold in tone, was not ungracious. "She looks a delicate child,
+and she tells me, she is blind."
+
+"Ah, yes, poor dear," sighed Mr. Tiddy. "Though I don't know why I
+should pity her," he proceeded, "for she's as happy as the day is
+long. Her father—he's the organist of St. John's in the East End of
+London—calls her 'little Sunbeam,' and the name just suits her. Her
+mother and my wife were school friends, and—but here we are!"
+
+The stranger was evidently much gratified by the sight of the flowers,
+and she was greatly impressed by the knowledge Peggy evinced concerning
+them. And the more she conversed with Mr. Tiddy, the more gracious her
+manner became, till by-and-by she asked him if there were comfortable
+lodgings to be had in the neighbourhood.
+
+"There's a farm higher up the hill, the adjoining farm to this, Higher
+Brimley it's called—where they let apartments during the summer
+months," he replied. "I expect they'd consider themselves fortunate, if
+they obtained a lodger as early in the year as this. Ford, the people
+are called, and Mrs. Ford is a nice, respectable woman who'd make you
+very comfortable."
+
+"You never take lodgers here?" the stranger inquired hesitatingly.
+
+"Never," was the decisive answer. "My wife has plenty of work to do in
+connection with the poultry and the dairy, and—to be plain—we like our
+home to ourselves."
+
+When the lady had gazed her fill at the daffodils, Mr. Tiddy led the
+way into the garden, which she declared to be her idea of what a
+country garden should be. The kindly farmer, pleased at her admiration
+for his belongings, thereupon invited her into the house, and had tea
+brought into the parlour. "I wish my wife was at home," he observed
+regretfully, "but Peggy must play hostess in her place."
+
+"And a very nice little hostess she makes," replied the old lady, her
+curious gaze upon the child, who was offering her some of Mrs. Tiddy's
+home-made cake. "Do you always treat strangers as you are treating me?"
+she inquired, turning to Mr. Tiddy again. "I have heard of Cornish
+hospitality, but I never believed in it till now. You don't know
+anything about me—" She paused and laughed rather bitterly, then added:
+"Most people would not think it worth while to entertain a stranger—one
+never likely to cross their path in life again."
+
+"Then you do not mean to seek lodgings in the district?" Mr. Tiddy
+asked gravely.
+
+"I have not made up my mind on that point yet. I almost think I could
+be contented in a spot like this."
+
+Having finished her tea, she rose and prepared to depart. Mr. Tiddy now
+noted for the first time, how costly was her dress—evidently she was a
+woman rich in this world's goods—and he thought as he glanced at the
+deep lines of discontent around her hard mouth, that, in spite of her
+undeniably handsome face, she was the most ill-tempered looking old
+lady he had seen for many a long day, and doubted much if she would be
+contented anywhere.
+
+"Good-bye, child," she said stretching out her delicately-gloved hand
+to Peggy. "It is quite possible that we may meet again."
+
+"If we do, I shall remember you," was the grave response. "I shall
+remember you by your voice. And I can't help thinking that somewhere
+we have met before, or perhaps it is only that you remind me of some
+one—that must be it."
+
+The lady looked at Peggy searchingly, and shook her head. Then she went
+away, leaving the little girl in a very thoughtful frame of mind. When
+Mr. Tiddy returned, after having accompanied the stranger down the hill
+and placed her in the hired carriage in which she had been driven from
+Penzance, he asked Peggy what she thought of their late visitor.
+
+"She seemed rather unhappy, didn't she, Mr. Tiddy?" she questioned.
+
+"Unhappy?" he said, reflectively. "I don't know about that. To me she
+appeared simply discontented. She is a selfish woman, I'll be bound—so
+maybe you're right, my dear, for selfish folk are never happy—and
+wrapped up in her own concerns. But she liked my daffodils, didn't she?
+I could see she had a real love for flowers. And she was interested in
+you, too. One mustn't judge by appearances altogether—"
+
+"I judge by her voice," said Peggy, as he broke off, leaving his
+sentence unfinished.
+
+"A hard, cold voice, wasn't it?" questioned Mr. Tiddy.
+
+"Y-e-s. Was she very old, Mr. Tiddy?"
+
+"Over seventy, I should say."
+
+"That's a great age, isn't it? I wonder if she is always alone like she
+was to-day. Perhaps she has no one to love and care for her now she
+is old. How sad that must be! Poor old lady!" And there was deepest
+sympathy in her tone.
+
+Mr. Tiddy looked at the speaker with a tender smile; but he did not
+think it worth while to say that, to him, their visitor had appeared
+anything but poor. Perhaps, he reflected, the child might be right
+after all, for he knew how often those rich in worldly possessions are
+poor in heart.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+MISS LEIGHTON'S DISCOVERY
+
+THE daffodil blooms had all been gathered; March had given place
+to April; and, day by day, Peggy was improving in health, whilst
+roses—faint as yet, it is true—were appearing in her cheeks. The
+doctor's prescription of a change of air was evidently what she had
+needed; and Mrs. Tiddy was much gratified at being able to write most
+cheering reports of her visitor's condition to Mrs. Pringle, who read
+them aloud to her husband and Billy with deep thankfulness in her heart.
+
+"How we shall miss the child when she leaves us!" Mr. Tiddy remarked to
+his wife one evening, as they strolled up and down the path in front
+of the house when the work of the day was over, listening to the music
+which Peggy's fingers were drawing from the piano in the parlour. The
+little girl was naturally musical and had been well taught by her
+father, who had often told her that if she worked hard and practised
+industriously, she might become a real musician some day, and to be a
+real musician was her most earnest desire.
+
+"But she is not going to leave us for a long while yet," Mrs. Tiddy
+responded. "I have written and told her mother that she must spare
+her to us for another month, at least, and I think she will be glad
+to let her stay, as her health is benefiting so much by our Cornish
+air. By the way, Ebenezer, have you heard that there are lodgers at
+Higher Brimley? No? An elderly lady and her maid have taken Mrs. Ford's
+apartments. They were pointed out to me in the village this afternoon
+when Peggy and I were returning from the beach. And Peggy says she is
+sure the lady is the one who came from Penzance on purpose to look at
+our flowers. She is a tall, thin, old lady with quite white hair."
+
+"You don't say so!" exclaimed the farmer. "I told her she could get
+apartments at Higher Brimley, but I did not think she really meant to
+see about them. Did she speak to Peggy?"
+
+"No; she did not see her, for we were in the post office when she
+passed with her maid. Peggy recognised her by her voice."
+
+"I wonder who she is. You did not hear her name, I suppose?"
+
+"No. Listen! The child is singing!"
+
+They stood silently by the open window of the parlour and listened as
+the little girl's voice, low and sweet in tone, rang out clearly and
+softly:
+
+   "Holy Father, cheer our way
+    With Thy love's perpetual ray:
+    Grant us every closing day
+       Light at evening time."
+
+"Dear child," murmured Mrs. Tiddy, tears springing involuntarily to her
+eyes, "it does seem hard lines that one naturally so bright and joyous
+should be blind! But there, God knows best, and I suppose He has denied
+her sight for some good reason; and she has His love to cheer her way,
+I'm certain."
+
+"I think there's light in her heart," said Mr. Tiddy simply, and his
+wife agreed.
+
+It was on the following morning that Peggy, who had wandered down to
+the beach with Wolf in attendance, met the lodgers from Higher Brimley.
+The old lady spoke to the little girl, and inquired if she remembered
+her. And, receiving an answer in the affirmative, she dismissed her
+maid, telling her to wait within sight, and requested Peggy to sit down
+by her side on an upturned boat, and talk to her for a while.
+
+Peggy complied readily, for she was of a very sociable disposition,
+and commenced the conversation by informing her companion that she had
+recognised her voice when she had heard it on the previous day.
+
+"I was in the post office with Mrs. Tiddy when you passed," she said,
+"and you were talking. We were told you had taken Mrs. Ford's rooms."
+
+"I do not know how long I shall remain there-perhaps only a few days,
+perhaps longer. I suppose the daffodils are all gone now?"
+
+"Yes," Peggy nodded regretfully; "but there are more flowers than ever
+in the garden, and those will not be cut. Mr. Tiddy grows them for
+himself and his friends; but the daffodils and narcissi, he sells."
+
+"You are looking better than when I saw you before," observed the
+stranger. "I suppose you will be going home soon?"
+
+"Not for some weeks yet. Oh, yes, I am a lot better! I feel really
+well; and Mrs. Tiddy says I am getting quite rosy and sunburnt. I am so
+glad, because they will be pleased at home."
+
+"Are you one of a long family?"
+
+"No. I have only one brother—Billy. Father is the organist of St.
+John's, but I do not expect you know the church. Mr. Maloney is our
+Vicar. He's a great friend of ours. I'm sure you'd like him, because
+he's such a good man. Mother says he's very clever, and people come a
+long distance often to hear him preach, so I suppose he must be."
+
+"I think I've heard of him," said the old lady thoughtfully. "He gives
+up his life to working amongst the poor, does he not?"
+
+"Yes. Nearly every one in our parish is poor. Mr. Maloney is, I
+believe, and we are, you know, because father's salary isn't much,
+and his music pupils don't pay him as they ought. But father is very
+clever, too, and some day I dare say we shall be better off. Father
+composes music, and there are very few people who can do that," the
+little girl said, with a ring of affectionate pride in her voice. "Do
+you live in London, too?" she inquired, thinking it was her turn to ask
+a question now.
+
+"I have a house in town. Will you come and spend a day with me there
+when we both go back to our own homes?"
+
+"I—I hardly know," Peggy replied doubtfully, flushing with surprise.
+"It's very kind of you to invite me; but I must ask mother. I don't
+know who you are, and—"
+
+"And I don't know who you are, either! Suppose you tell me your name?"
+
+"It is Margaret Pringle; but I am always called Peggy, because father
+calls mother Margaret."
+
+"Pringle!" exclaimed the old lady, growing suddenly crimson. She looked
+almost angrily at Peggy as she spoke, but of course the little girl was
+unconscious of that fact, though she caught the sound of agitation in
+her voice. "Pringle!" she repeated. "Is it possible? Tell me, is your
+father's name John?"
+
+"Yes. You have heard of him?" Since her companion had evinced some
+knowledge of the Vicar of St. John's, it did not occur to Peggy as at
+all unlikely that she should know something of the organist too. "He
+plays most beautifully," she continued impressively. "Mr. Tiddy will
+tell you so, for he heard him one Sunday evening when he went to church
+with us. It was the first time I had been to church after my accident.
+Oh, I haven't told you about that! I was knocked down when I was out
+with Billy, and it was a great wonder that I was not killed!"
+
+And she recounted the story of her adventure at some length, utterly
+unconscious of the effect it was having upon her listener, who had lost
+all her colour again now, and was looking paler than before.
+
+"The—the person in the carriage would not have understood that you were
+blind," the old lady remarked at length, subsequent to a long pause
+which had followed the conclusion of Peggy's tale.
+
+"No, of course not," the little girl agreed, "but Mr. Maloney says
+the least she could have done would have been to have driven me home.
+Billy thinks she didn't care, if I was hurt or not. And—isn't it
+strange?—she's supposed to be a very charitable person!"
+
+"Then you know who she is?"
+
+"Oh, yes! She gave the policeman her card, and mother used to know her
+quite well—years ago."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"I—I am afraid I have been talking too much," Peggy said hesitatingly,
+with a sudden touch of reserve in her tone as she became aware that she
+had let her tongue run away with her. She hoped she had not wearied her
+companion with her chatter.
+
+"Why did you say she—the person in the carriage, I mean—is supposed to
+be very charitable?" asked the old lady presently.
+
+"Because she gives away heaps and heaps of money," was the prompt reply.
+
+"Well, that is very generous of her, is it not?"
+
+"Yes. But I don't think she can be really charitable, if she isn't kind
+in little ways and if she's unforgiving. I asked Mr. Maloney what he
+thought."
+
+"Well? What did he say?"
+
+"He repeated that verse in the Corinthians, 'Though I bestow all my
+goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and
+have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.' He didn't say anything but
+that; but I know what he meant, don't you? But, don't let us talk about
+her any more—I am not sure that I ought to have spoken of her at all."
+
+"You have done no harm. So that accident was actually the cause of your
+illness?"
+
+"Yes. And just when the doctor said I must have a change of air, Mr.
+Tiddy arrived and invited me here. Wasn't it kind of him, and of Mrs.
+Tiddy too? You know I couldn't possibly have had a change but for them,
+for father couldn't have managed it, and it made him so dreadfully
+unhappy that he couldn't. Both he and mother were so worried about me."
+
+Soon after that the old lady rose, remarking that she found the wind a
+trifle chilly. She said good-bye to Peggy and joined her maid with the
+intention of returning to her lodgings. Left alone, the little girl
+reflected that her late companion had been decidedly less affable at
+the conclusion of their conversation, than at the commencement, and
+wondered why that had been. Had she unwittingly said anything to cause
+her annoyance? She felt puzzled and uneasy; and, though she had been
+encouraged to talk, she wished she had been less communicative.
+
+Meanwhile the old lady, who, as the reader has no doubt guessed, was
+no other than Miss Leighton, Mrs. Pringle's aunt, was walking up the
+hill towards Higher Brimley in anything but a happy frame of mind. That
+morning she had spoken of remaining some while longer in Cornwall, and
+had professed herself quite satisfied with the arrangements which had
+been made for her comfort; but now, she had almost decided to quit the
+neighbourhood at once.
+
+She had been greatly attracted by the blind child on the occasion
+of her visit from Penzance to look at Mr. Tiddy's flowers. And when
+she had caught sight of her on the beach an hour previously, she had
+determined to cultivate her acquaintance. But having learnt that Peggy
+was the daughter of the niece whom she had never forgiven for what she
+called her ingratitude, she was experiencing mingled feelings of anger,
+bitterness, and regret.
+
+"I will have no more to do with her," she thought.
+
+Then she shuddered as she reflected on the accident. How terrible it
+would have been if her horses had killed Margaret's little daughter!
+She had made no inquiries concerning her niece since her marriage and
+had not even known where she was living, or if she had any children
+or not. Therefore, it had been somewhat of a shock to discover she
+had a child who was afflicted with blindness. She pictured Peggy,
+golden-haired and sunny-faced, and an unwonted expression of tenderness
+crossed her countenance. After all, she decided, she would remain at
+Higher Brimley for the time, for—it was weak of her, no doubt—she felt
+she must see Peggy once again.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+A GREAT SURPRISE
+
+NOT quite a week later, Mr. Tiddy, crossing the fields in his usual
+leisurely fashion towards the house at dinner-time, caught sight of his
+wife and Peggy, standing at the garden gate, evidently waiting for him.
+As he drew near enough to see the expression of their faces, he noticed
+that both appeared excited, and as he joined them the little girl cried
+eagerly:
+
+"Oh, Mr. Tiddy, we've had a visitor! She came and knocked at the door
+and asked if she might go round the garden. And who do you think she
+was?"
+
+"Why, the old lady who's lodging at Higher Brimley, to be sure,"
+answered Mr. Tiddy promptly, evincing no surprise. "I met her this
+morning, and she stopped and spoke to me. She expressed a desire to see
+our flowers, so I told her, she'd be welcome to look at them, whenever
+she pleased. She didn't lose much time in taking me at my word," he
+concluded, smilingly.
+
+"Ah, but do you know who she is?" demanded Peggy. "No, we thought not.
+You'll be simply astounded when you hear. She didn't tell us until just
+as she was leaving, and then she said her name was Leighton, and that
+I was related to her—distantly related, she said. She's mother's Aunt
+Caroline, the rich lady who was in the carriage when—"
+
+"What!" broke in the farmer, "You don't say so!" He looked
+questioningly at his wife as he spoke, and she hastened to reply:
+
+"Yes, Ebenezer, it is true. There can be no doubt about it. She is that
+rich Miss Leighton of whom we have heard so much."
+
+"I told her who I was that day she talked to me on the beach," Peggy
+said, with face and voice full of excitement. "She asked me my name;
+and—and I told her, too, all about my accident and how unkind we
+thought it of her to have driven away when I was hurt. I think perhaps
+she was cross at what I said, but I never dreamt who she was, so I
+don't think really it was my fault, do you, Mr. Tiddy?"
+
+"No, my dear, I do not," he agreed.
+
+"Still, perhaps I ought not to have talked as I did to a stranger. She
+was very nice to-day, though, wasn't she, Mrs. Tiddy?"
+
+"Very. Will you run into the house, Peggy, and say we are ready for
+dinner?"
+
+Then as the little girl obeyed, Mrs. Tiddy turned to her husband and
+said gravely:
+
+"Ebenezer, what can have brought Miss Leighton here? Until Peggy told
+her her name the other day, she had no idea who she was or even that
+her niece had children. I don't believe she has forgiven Peggy's mother
+yet. Isn't it shocking to bear malice in one's heart so long? 'I don't
+wish to hear anything concerning your friend or her husband,' she said
+to me in a tone without an atom of feeling in it; 'but I was never one
+for visiting the sins of the parents upon the children. My niece proved
+herself ungrateful, and I regard ingratitude as a sin, but I feel no
+resentment against her innocent daughter.' I should think not indeed!
+I made no answer, however, for I was afraid, if I did, I might say too
+much."
+
+"Surely she did not make that remark before Peggy!" exclaimed Mr.
+Tiddy, his ruddy colour deepening with indignation.
+
+"No, certainly not; Peggy was not within hearing then. What shall I do?
+Miss Leighton asked me to call on her and bring Peggy with me, and I
+half promised I would; I did not like to refuse. I think the old lady
+has taken a fancy to the child. Isn't it strange that those two should
+have crossed each other's path again?"
+
+The farmer nodded, a very thoughtful expression on his face. "There's
+One above Who planned they should meet, that's my opinion," he said
+gravely; "and I don't think we ought to try to keep them apart. Maybe
+the old lady will get to feel more kindly towards her niece when she
+knows Peggy better and realises what a dear little soul she is and how
+well her mother has brought her up. I am sure Mrs. Pringle will not
+object to your taking the child to call on her aunt. By the way, does
+Miss Leighton like her lodgings?"
+
+"She said they were fairly comfortable. She strikes me as a rather
+dissatisfied body. She is anything but a happy woman, Ebenezer, though
+God has given her so much; and I hear from the servants, who have
+become friendly with her maid, that she is a very jealous, exacting
+temper, and she is always imagining people are trying to cultivate her
+acquaintance on account of her wealth."
+
+"Well, she cannot possibly imagine that about you," Mr. Tiddy replied,
+"for she has sought your acquaintance herself. I suppose we had better
+go in to dinner now. There's Peggy under the porch beckoning to us."
+
+Mrs. Tiddy decided she would not call upon Miss Leighton until she had
+mentioned the matter to her old school friend; so she wrote to her that
+same day, and received an answer by return of post. Mrs. Pringle said
+very little about her aunt in her letter, but she raised no objection
+to her little daughter's calling with Mrs. Tiddy at Higher Brimley.
+"Aunt Caroline is not fond of young people," she remarked, "so please
+don't force the child upon her notice—but I am sure you will not do
+that."
+
+"I certainly will not," Mrs. Tiddy reflected as she folded up her
+friend's letter, "but I will take Peggy to call on Miss Leighton, as
+the old lady made a point of my doing so. We need not stay very long,
+any way."
+
+Peggy experienced a feeling of unusual shyness when, one April
+afternoon, she accompanied Mrs. Tiddy to Higher Brimley; and, although
+Miss Leighton received them with every sign of cordiality, she was
+anything but at ease in her presence. As the little girl sat in silence
+listening to the conversation of the two ladies, she was aware that the
+elder's eyes were upon her, and she alternately flushed and paled as
+she thought over the small amount of information she had gleaned from
+her mother since her accident about this aunt of hers. Her tender heart
+had gone out in sympathy towards the old lady, whom she had sincerely
+pitied because she had fancied she might be all alone in the world, but
+now she mentally regarded her from quite another point of view.
+
+"Mother would have loved her, if she would have let her," she
+reflected. "It is her own fault if she is lonely. I wonder if she will
+speak of mother to me!"
+
+But Miss Leighton did not once mention her niece's name. She addressed
+herself very kindly to Peggy every now and again, and seemed wishful
+to make much of her, and Mrs. Tiddy saw she was disappointed and
+half-vexed by the child's evident disinclination to talk.
+
+"What have you done with your dog this afternoon?" Miss Leighton
+inquired, when at length her visitors rose to go.
+
+"We shut him up in the stable before we started," Peggy answered. "He
+wanted to come because he loves a walk."
+
+"He is rather quarrelsome with other dogs," Mrs. Tiddy explained, "so
+we thought it wiser to leave him at home. The poor creature was very
+disappointed, for he spends most of his time with Peggy now, and we
+always feel she is safe if Wolf is with her."
+
+"What will he do when he loses her altogether?" asked Miss Leighton.
+"Peggy does not propose taking him back with her to London, I presume?"
+
+"No," the little girl answered, accepting the question seriously, "I
+wouldn't do that, even if Mr. Tiddy would give him to me, for I am sure
+he would be wretched in town. I'd rather know he is here, guarding the
+yard and looking after the sheep, and going on as he always does—having
+such a good time! He will miss me at first, but—where is Mrs. Tiddy?"
+she asked quickly.
+
+They had left the house and were in the garden now, Mrs. Tiddy having
+lingered at the door to exchange a few words with Mrs. Ford.
+
+"She is talking to my landlady," Miss Leighton replied. "She will be
+here presently. Are you in a great hurry to go? You have no objection
+to being alone with me for a few minutes, I suppose?" she questioned
+sharply.
+
+"Oh! No!" Peggy assured her. "And—and now we are alone, I should like
+to say that I hope I wasn't rude to you the other day on the beach,"
+she proceeded, looking distressed. "I would not have spoken like that
+if—if I had known who you were. I—I have thought of it often since,
+and I am sorry if I said anything you did not like. I was afraid,
+afterwards, that you were displeased with me."
+
+"People are seldom pleased to hear others' opinions of themselves,"
+was the dry response. "You evidently considered my conduct towards you
+had been heartless; but I am not angry with you, child. You only said
+frankly what you thought."
+
+"Yes," Peggy agreed, colouring hotly in her confusion. "I am glad you
+are not angry, though, because I did not mean to be rude, and I am
+afraid I must have been," she added deprecatingly.
+
+"I think you are prejudiced against me." Miss Leighton paused
+momentarily, and sighed, then continued, "Well, it is natural you
+should be. I am sorry, nevertheless. Cannot you dismiss all you have
+heard of me from your mind and take me as you find me?"
+
+"I—I will try. I have not heard much about you, indeed! I never heard
+of you at all till after my accident! Then Billy told me who you were,
+and I was so surprised! Billy and I have often talked of you since!"
+
+"Really? I dare say you heard Mrs. Tiddy ask me to take tea with her
+one afternoon, soon? I shall hope then to hear you play. I hear you are
+quite a musician."
+
+"Oh, no! But I love music. I play to Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy every night."
+The mantle of reserve was falling from Peggy and the brightness was
+returning to her face. "Do you love music too?" she inquired, lifting
+her sightless blue eyes to her companion's countenance.
+
+"Indeed I do; so we have that much in common, at any rate."
+
+"Oh, we have more than that, for I am sure you love flowers, and so
+do I. Do you know, there are such a lot of sea-pinks growing on the
+cliffs—"
+
+"You do not go on the cliffs alone?" Miss Leighton interposed.
+
+"Oh, no! But I have been several times with Mr. Tiddy, and I hold fast
+to his hand. There is a sheep-track along the cliffs, you know, and
+it is quite safe if you keep to that. I could find my way alone, I am
+sure, but I never mean to try, because I have promised, I won't."
+
+"That's well. Perhaps you and I might walk there together some day. Do
+you think you could put up with an old woman for a companion?"
+
+"Yes, Miss Leighton," Peggy answered, smiling.
+
+"And you shall show me the sea-pinks, and we will take Wolf to protect
+us both. But do not call me 'Miss Leighton,' child; call me 'Aunt
+Caroline,' for you are my great-niece and—and I should like to be kind
+to you."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+CONCERNING ELLEN BARNES
+
+MISS LEIGHTON'S maid—Ellen Barnes—was a plain, sad-faced, middle-aged
+woman who had been with her present employer for many years. She had
+known Mrs. Pringle before her marriage, and consequently, it was with
+considerable satisfaction and some astonishment that she saw the
+interest with which her mistress regarded the daughter of the niece,
+the very existence of whom she had ignored so long.
+
+It cannot be said that Miss Leighton was on anything like confidential
+terms with her maid; but she trusted her, and she would have certainly
+been at a loss without the services of the quiet, rather spiritless
+woman who rarely spoke except in answer to a question.
+
+Miss Leighton had now been nearly a fortnight at Higher Brimley, and
+had had several interviews with her little great-niece on the beach,
+and had walked with her along the sheep-track on the cliffs to look at
+the sea-pinks. But she had not yet taken tea with Mrs. Tiddy as had
+been suggested, and when, one sunshiny morning, Peggy arrived with an
+invitation for her to do so that afternoon, she accepted it immediately.
+
+"Of course I will come," she replied, after Peggy—rosy with the
+exercise of walking—had delivered her message. "Please give my kind
+regards to Mrs. Tiddy and say I accept her invitation with pleasure.
+Did you walk here by yourself, child?"
+
+"No," answered Peggy. She had been ushered into Miss Leighton's
+sitting-room by Ellen Barnes, who had been on an errand to the post
+office for her mistress and had overtaken the little girl on her way
+home. "I started to come alone," she said, "but I had not gone far
+before I heard some one calling to me. It was Barnes. So we walked on
+together. What a very nice woman she is, Aunt Caroline! We had such a
+long talk!"
+
+"Humph!" exclaimed Miss Leighton, rather surprised. "And, pray, what
+did you find to talk about?"
+
+"Oh, about things at home, first of all," was the somewhat vague
+response. "My home, of course I mean. I did not know till to-day that
+Barnes knew my mother."
+
+The little girl had taken the chair which had been placed for her close
+to the open window by which Miss Leighton was sitting, and the bright
+spring sunshine fell full upon her face framed in its golden curls.
+Certainly she made a very pretty picture.
+
+"I like Barnes," she proceeded in a tone of decision as her companion
+vouchsafed no response. "How very fortunate you are to have such a nice
+woman for your maid, Aunt Caroline!"
+
+"I believe she is thoroughly trustworthy," Miss Leighton remarked,
+somewhat astonished at this expression of opinion, "and that is a great
+deal to be able to say of any one. Barnes has been with me many years.
+I pay her good wages and she is not overworked. I believe she values
+her situation."
+
+"Oh, yes, I am sure she does!" Peggy agreed earnestly.
+
+"How can you tell, child?" Miss Leighton asked, a slightly amused smile
+curving her lips.
+
+"She told me she did, Aunt Caroline."
+
+"Did she?" There was gratification in the old lady's voice. "But—how
+strange of her to say so to you! She must have been very confidential."
+
+"She was telling me about her brother, and how she values her situation
+with you because you pay her such good wages that she is able to send
+home more than half she earns. Oh, Aunt Caroline, when she told me
+about her brother, I thought how thankful I ought to be that God has
+only made me blind! Suppose I was like poor Barnes's brother: how much
+worse that would be!"
+
+"What about Barnes's brother?" inquired Miss Leighton, in utter
+bewilderment. "I have never heard anything about my maid's relations;
+she has a week's holiday every summer; I suppose she goes to see them
+then. Stay—I think I remember hearing her once mention a mother, who,
+by the way, must be a very old woman, for Barnes herself is quite
+middle-aged."
+
+"Barnes's mother is more than eighty years old, and she lives in a
+little village near Plymouth with her son. Oh, Aunt Caroline, he is
+only two years younger than Barnes, and he has been an idiot all his
+life!"
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Leighton, feeling really shocked. "I never
+heard that before. Barnes never told me."
+
+Peggy looked intensely surprised for a minute, then an expression of
+comprehension crossed her face. "I expect she did not like to tell
+you," she said. "Perhaps she thought you would not be interested, you
+know."
+
+"Why should she think that?" Miss Leighton questioned sharply.
+
+The little girl was silent. She had heard Mrs. Tiddy say that Barnes
+looked a broken-spirited woman; and Mrs. Ford, when she had called
+at Lower Brimley a few days previously, had declared her to be a
+perfect slave to her mistress's whims, and wondered why she did not
+seek another situation with some one who, at any rate, would be less
+inconsiderate and exacting. In the conversation the little girl had
+had with Barnes, she had discovered the reason which induced her to
+keep her post. It was because it enabled her to do so much for her poor
+mother and her imbecile brother in their cottage home.
+
+"Why should you think that?" Miss Leighton persisted. "Come, speak out,
+child! Don't be afraid of me!"
+
+"I'm not," Peggy answered truthfully, for she was not in the least in
+awe of the old lady. "I meant that—that perhaps if you have never asked
+Barnes about her relations, she would think you would not care to hear
+about them. But it does seem so very odd that she should have lived
+with you so many years, and you should not know all about her mother
+and brother!"
+
+"The brother is an idiot, you say?"
+
+"Yes; but Barnes and her mother are very fond of him; it would break
+her mother's heart to be parted from him, and Barnes says they shall
+never be separated as long as God gives her health and strength to
+work. They get parish pay, and with what Barnes sends them they manage
+to live pretty comfortably. Oh, Aunt Caroline, mustn't it be dreadful
+to have a brother like that! Oh dear, I do think it is so very sad!"
+And the pitiful tears rose to Peggy's blue eyes and ran down her cheeks.
+
+"You mustn't take other people's troubles to heart like that!" Miss
+Leighton exclaimed hastily.
+
+"I feel so sorry for Barnes," Peggy said, with deepest sorrow in her
+tone, "because I am sure it must make her very unhappy to think of her
+brother and her old mother sometimes. She must wish to see them so
+much, and always be wondering how they are getting on. Mrs. Tiddy says
+Barnes looks a very sad woman. I wish I could do something to make her
+happier."
+
+"I said so to her just now," she continued, with a brightening face,
+"and what do you think she answered? That I had helped her by being
+sorry for her brother; she said she wouldn't have told me anything
+about him if I hadn't been afflicted myself, and it warmed her heart to
+know I cared. I told her I should pray to God every night to make her
+brother right in his mind, and she said she was afraid that would never
+be in this world. Poor fellow! He's like me, Aunt Caroline, in that
+way, isn't he? He will have to bear his cross as long as he lives, and
+his cross is so much heavier than mine."
+
+A silence followed, during which Miss Leighton sat gazing, unseeingly,
+out of the window. There was a mist before her eyes, and a lump in her
+throat which prevented her uttering a word. By-and-by Peggy rose to go.
+
+"Mrs. Tiddy said she hoped you would come early this afternoon," she
+observed. "Please do, for I've so many things to show you."
+
+"I certainly will," Miss Leighton replied. "Shall Barnes take you home?"
+
+"Oh no, thank you, I know the way quite well; I have only to keep to
+the road. Good-bye, Aunt Caroline—till this afternoon."
+
+Miss Leighton stood at the window and watched the little girl out of
+sight, a gentler expression than usual on her face. Then she resumed
+her seat and took up the book she had been reading before the child's
+arrival; but it failed to interest her now, for her mind was full of
+uneasy thoughts. Barnes had lived with her for nearly twenty years,
+she reflected; and yet how little she really knew of the woman! Well,
+it could not be expected that she would interest herself in her maid's
+concerns. And yet, how surprised Peggy had been at discovering her
+ignorance of aged mother and her imbecile son. Peggy had learnt all
+there was to know about them in less than half an hour.
+
+Miss Leighton paid her servants liberal wages—she was never stingy
+where money was concerned—and it had often occurred to her that Barnes
+must be of a miserly disposition, for she dressed very plainly and it
+had been impossible not to notice that she begrudged spending money.
+Now she understood where the woman's wages had gone. Barnes had not
+been making a purse for herself, but spending it upon those dear
+to her, and, all the while, she had been regarding her as a mean,
+poor-spirited creature.
+
+It was difficult to realise that the humble, silent woman who had borne
+with her mistress's haughty temper so patiently, had been leading a
+life of self-sacrifice and self-repression from the noblest of motives;
+but Miss Leighton now realised that such had been the case, for Peggy
+had thrown a new light upon the maid's character.
+
+What had made Barnes tell Peggy about her brother? the old lady
+wondered. Was it because her heart had been hungry for sympathy,
+and she had known instinctively that she would receive it from the
+blind child? Probably so. She had preferred to confide in a stranger,
+rather than in the mistress whom she knew to be accounted a charitable
+woman—one lavish in giving of her wealth.
+
+"I don't think she can really be charitable, if she isn't kind in
+little ways," Peggy had said ingenuously, passing her childish judgment
+on her mother's rich aunt, and the words returned forcibly to Miss
+Leighton's mind now, and cause her a strange pang, whilst she asked
+herself if she had ever been really kind to Ellen Barnes, or for that
+matter, to any member of her household. She was a lonely old woman;
+but, after all, was it not greatly owing to her own fault? She had
+certainly never been "kind in little ways."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+TEA AT LOWER BRIMLEY
+
+IT was not the ordinary "afternoon tea" to which Miss Leighton was
+invited, but a substantial meal laid on the square mahogany table in
+the parlour at Lower Brimley, with a mass of primroses in the centre
+intermingled with sprays of beautiful fern moss, surrounded by plates
+of daintily cut bread-and-butter and various kinds of preserves in
+glass dishes, an old china bowl full of clotted cream, a plum cake, and
+some saffron buns—"knobbies" as they are called in Cornwall.
+
+It was but natural that Mrs. Tiddy should put her best possessions
+before this relation of her little visitor's, so the silver tea-service
+had come out of its flannel wrappings, and Miss Leighton drank her tea
+from a rare old china teacup with a wreath of pink roses inside its
+brim—one of a set which had been treasured in Mr. Tiddy's family for
+three generations and was only used on great occasions—and stirred her
+tea with an apostle spoon, worn thin with age; whilst, much to her
+hostess's gratification, she evidently appreciated the efforts which
+were being made to entertain her.
+
+Seated at Mrs. Tiddy's right hand at the tea-table, the old lady looked
+about her with a sense of unusual contentment. For once in a way, she
+was satisfied with the company in which she found herself. Yes, she
+liked this hearty, out-spoken west-country farmer and his pleasant,
+intelligent wife, for she was under the impression—a true one—that
+they would have welcomed her as cordially if she had been poor instead
+of rich, and she so seldom felt that about people. After tea, Peggy
+took possession of her, and, after visiting the yard and inspecting
+the poultry, she was led into the great farm kitchen, where, in one
+corner of the oak settle close to the fire was a flannel-lined basket
+containing two weakly chicks.
+
+"Mrs. Tiddy thought this morning that they would die," Peggy said as
+she covered the invalids with her warm hands. "But they are getting on
+nicely now, and to-morrow, they'll be strong enough to run with their
+brothers and sisters."
+
+Miss Leighton glanced around the kitchen with admiring, appreciative
+eyes, noticing the shining tins on the mantel-piece, the big copper
+warming-pan and the tall, brass-faced clock against the wall, and the
+linen bags hanging from the beams which spanned the ceiling, containing
+home-cured hams and sides of bacon. And then, after a visit to the
+dairy, she returned with Peggy to the parlour, where the tea-things had
+disappeared from the table, and the easiest chair in the room was drawn
+near the window for the guest.
+
+"What a peaceful scene it is!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, as her eyes
+rested on the village below and the distant sea. "I suppose, Mrs.
+Tiddy, you have become greatly attached to this charming spot?"
+
+"Yes," Mrs. Tiddy answered. "I love Lower Brimley as I imagine only
+a woman who has been homeless and dependent can love her home. There
+was nowhere in the world where I could feel I had a right to be, till
+I married, for I was left an orphan at an early age and brought up by
+relations who regarded me in the light of an incubus. The bread of
+charity is very bitter, Miss Leighton—how bitter, it is impossible for
+those who have never tasted it to guess. I finished my education in a
+school as a pupil teacher, so I can truthfully say, that after I was
+seventeen, I maintained myself. You know I was a governess for several
+years, but I prefer being a farmer's wife," she concluded with a happy
+laugh.
+
+"Your lines have fallen in pleasant places," Miss Leighton remarked,
+with a smile which was very gracious.
+
+And Mrs. Tiddy agreed.
+
+Then Peggy was asked to give them some music, and she went to the piano
+willingly. Miss Leighton was astonished to hear the child could play so
+well, and expressed herself delighted, remarking that she had evidently
+been most carefully taught.
+
+"Soon I am going to learn the organ," Peggy informed the old lady,
+twisting round on the piano-stool, "and then, perhaps, when I am quite
+grown up I shall be able to earn my own living. How splendid that will
+be! I think I would rather be a musician than anything else, because
+it makes people happy to hear music. Oh! here's Mr. Tiddy!" she cried,
+catching the sound of footsteps in the hall; and a minute later the
+farmer entered the room.
+
+"You've been having some music?" he said, glancing at Peggy on the
+piano-stool. "Well, now, won't you sing something, my dear? She has a
+voice as sweet as a lark's," he continued, turning to the visitor. "I
+am sure you would like to hear her sing, wouldn't you?"
+
+"Indeed I should," Miss Leighton replied.
+
+"I don't know any songs," Peggy said doubtfully; "only a few hymns, and
+little scraps from anthems which I've heard at church."
+
+"Sing that hymn about 'Light at evening time,' my dear," requested Mr.
+Tiddy. "I dearly like to hear you sing that."
+
+Peggy complied immediately, and when her sweet voice ceased there was
+dead silence for a minute or so. Surprised, the little girl turned her
+sightless eyes in the direction of Miss Leighton, wondering why she did
+not at least say, "Thank you."
+
+"Don't you like it?" she asked. "It's my favourite hymn, and when I was
+a very little girl mother taught me to say the first verse as a prayer.
+I say it every night now, and I expect I always shall. I suppose I like
+it so much because I'm blind. I don't know what light is, but I know
+it's very beautiful and wonderful, because Jesus is called 'The Light
+of the World,' and people seem to think it's so dreadful to be without
+it."
+
+"The light our Saviour brought into the world is given to the blind as
+freely as to others," Mrs. Tiddy reminded her gently. "Its home is in
+the heart, making peace and happiness and joy." She glanced at Miss
+Leighton as she spoke and was surprised at the expression of her face.
+The old lady was regarding the child with yearning eyes, and her whole
+countenance—generally so repellent in its pride—was softened by an
+emotion which rendered her incapable of speech.
+
+At that moment Peggy started to her feet, declaring she heard Wolf
+outside the window—he was in search of her—and hastened out of the
+room. A few minutes later, she and her faithful canine friend ran down
+the garden path side by side, the dog barking joyously at having lured
+her from the house.
+
+"How full of life and high spirits she is!" remarked Mr. Tiddy, as he
+moved to the window to watch the pair. "She is looking capital, isn't
+she? I declare her cheeks have become quite round and rosy, and she was
+such a pale little soul not much more than a month ago."
+
+"It is terrible that she should be blind!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, a
+sort of restrained vehemence in her tone as she found her voice once
+more. "Can nothing really be done for her? Has she had good advice?"
+
+"The best in London, I believe," Mrs. Tiddy answered with a sigh.
+
+"Then money would be no good—" The old lady paused as both her
+companions shook their heads. "Because if it was a question of money
+I would gladly pay any amount for the child's sake," she proceeded
+eagerly. "I—I have taken a great fancy to her. I do not know when I was
+so much attracted by a child before. I would give a great deal if she
+could be made to see."
+
+"Hers is not a case money can touch," Mr. Tiddy responded gravely, "I
+have been assured of that by her parents. As long as her life lasts,
+the little maid will be blind, and she knows it, but she's contented to
+wait. Her eyes will see the King in His beauty by-and-by, and meanwhile
+His love is lightening her darkness and cheering her way. Did you like
+that hymn she sang?"
+
+"Yes," Miss Leighton assented, "but it made me sad. To me, blindness
+seems the heaviest affliction that can fall upon any one."
+
+She glanced out of the window, her expression one of mingled affection
+and pity as her gaze fell upon the little girl who was now leaning over
+the garden gate in the attitude of listening.
+
+"Ah, here comes Barnes to escort me home!" she exclaimed. "I have to
+thank you for a very pleasant time," she continued earnestly, looking
+from one of her companions to the other. "I am afraid I shall have no
+opportunity of returning your hospitality now, for I am leaving Higher
+Brimley at the end of the week; but surely, Mr. Tiddy, you sometimes
+bring your wife to town?"
+
+"She has not been back to London since I married her," Mr. Tiddy
+replied smilingly, "and she says she has no desire to go. But I mean
+for us both to take a holiday in the autumn—after the corn harvest—and
+then—"
+
+"And then you will come to London," Miss Leighton interposed quickly,
+"and do come and stay with me. Don't say 'No,' but think it over. It
+would give me so much pleasure to have you for my guests, and you
+should do as you pleased in every way. At any rate, promise you will
+not visit London without seeing me."
+
+"I readily promise that," Mrs. Tiddy answered, secretly much surprised
+at the invitation she and her husband had received. "You are very
+kind—so many thanks. Won't you stay a little longer? Barnes can wait
+for you."
+
+"I think I must go, for I would rather return before dark, and the
+evening is drawing in. There is a mist rising from the sea; I dare say
+it is 'only for heat and pilchards' as you Cornish folk say, but I am
+liable to bronchitis and I fear to be out in a fog."
+
+Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy escorted their visitor to the garden gate, where
+Barnes was waiting for her, in conversation with Peggy; and five
+minutes later, mistress and maid were climbing the hill towards Higher
+Brimley.
+
+"I shall leave here at the end of the week," Miss Leighton abruptly
+remarked as they neared their destination.
+
+"Yes, ma'am," replied Barnes, in her usual quiet tone.
+
+"It is my intention to return to town, but I think I shall break our
+journey at Plymouth," Miss Leighton announced. "I may probably stay
+there for a day or so."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied again. Not a muscle of her face moved, nor
+was there any sign to show the delight she experienced as her mistress
+made known her plans, though her heart was palpitating with joy at the
+thought that she might soon have an opportunity of seeing her mother
+and brother.
+
+Miss Leighton was disappointed. She had planned to stop at Plymouth
+solely on her maid's account; but of course, she reflected, Barnes
+could not know that.
+
+"By the way, you have relatives living near Plymouth, have you not?"
+she asked, after a brief hesitation.
+
+"Yes, ma'am—my mother and my brother." Barnes regarded her mistress
+dubiously, then added: "I shall be glad to see them, if you will allow
+me a day to myself, for my mother is very old, and my brother is sorely
+afflicted—he has no mind, or none to speak of. It will be a great
+pleasure to me to go and see them."
+
+"How is it you never mentioned them to me before?" Miss Leighton
+demanded sharply. "You are deeply attached to them, are you not?"
+
+"Yes," Barnes admitted, "I am." But she did not explain why their names
+had never passed her lips, and her mistress did not ask her again.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+GOOD-BYES
+
+"HAVE you nearly finished, Barnes?"
+
+The speaker—Miss Leighton—put the question in a querulous tone. She
+had that moment entered her bedroom at Higher Brimley, where her maid
+was engaged in packing her belongings; and, taking off her bonnet and
+cloak, she flung them upon the bed with an irritability of manner which
+showed she had been put out.
+
+"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered, as she proceeded to lock the last trunk
+and securely fasten its leather straps.
+
+"I have been to Lower Brimley," Miss Leighton announced. "I thought I
+would call and say good-bye to the Tiddys this evening, but they have
+gone to Penzance for the day and taken the child with them."
+
+There was a distinct note of disappointment in her voice, and her face
+wore an expression of mingled annoyance and regret.
+
+"They might have thought that I should call to-day!" she exclaimed,
+vexedly.
+
+"Do they know you are leaving to-morrow, ma'am?" Barnes questioned,
+respectfully.
+
+"I told Mrs. Tiddy I intended leaving at the end of this week: probably
+she imagines that would be on Saturday—not Friday. I should like to
+have said good-bye to little Peggy. Barnes, what I would give if the
+child's parents would consent to my adopting her!"
+
+"Ma'am!" cried Barnes in great astonishment, rising to her feet—she
+had been kneeling to secure the straps of the trunk—and staring at her
+mistress as though she doubted if she had heard aright. "Her mother
+would never permit it!" she declared decisively.
+
+"How do you know?" queried Miss Leighton, with a frown and a cold
+glance of displeasure.
+
+"Of course I don't know, ma'am," Barnes answered quietly, "and
+perhaps I have no right to pass my opinion; but, from what I've heard
+Miss Peggy say herself, I judge that it's very unlikely her mother
+and father would part with her, especially as she's blind. Parents
+generally love an afflicted child so much more dearly than those who
+are better fitted to face the world!" And Barnes's face softened into
+tenderness as she spoke.
+
+"But they will have to provide for her future, and my niece's husband
+is a poor man. If anything happened to him—if he died, his widow
+and children would be penniless, and what would become of Peggy
+then—helpless and blind? Surely if her parents are so deeply attached
+to her, they will consider her interests! I will have nothing to do
+with Margaret herself, but she shall not be a loser if she will allow
+me to adopt Peggy. What do you think of my plan, Barnes?"
+
+"I don't like it," Barnes responded in a low tone. "No, I don't like
+it," she repeated, gaining courage to speak her mind; "the little girl
+has a happy home, though I suppose it's a poor one, and she's been
+accustomed to a great deal of love—"
+
+"And if I did not love her, should I desire to adopt her?" Miss
+Leighton broke in with unusual impetuosity.
+
+"Your love is not like that which she's had all her life," Barnes said,
+refraining from meeting her mistress's glance. "How can it be, ma'am?
+You've taken a fancy to the child and you want her for your own sake,
+because she's sweet and loveable; but her mother and father will think
+of what's best for her—"
+
+The maid's sentence was never finished—and perhaps it was as well, as
+Miss Leighton's countenance had darkened with anger—for at that moment
+Mrs. Ford knocked at the door with the information that there were
+visitors downstairs. And on descending to her sitting-room, the old
+lady found Mrs. Tiddy and Peggy awaiting her.
+
+"We are so sorry we were not at home when you called, Miss Leighton,"
+said Mrs. Tiddy, "especially as you are leaving to-morrow—I thought you
+would not go till Saturday. We have just returned from Penzance, where
+we have spent the day."
+
+"I hope you have had a pleasant time," Miss Leighton remarked genially.
+"But are you not very tired?"
+
+"I think Peggy is," Mrs. Tiddy replied, "but when we heard you had been
+to Lower Brimley in our absence to say good-bye to us, she felt with me
+that we could not let you go without a word of farewell, so we decided
+to come straight on here. We must only stay a few minutes, though, as
+my husband is waiting in the dog-cart outside."
+
+"We have had such a lovely day," Peggy informed Miss Leighton. "We had
+dinner at an hotel, and we rode to Land's End in a Jersey car; Mr.
+Tiddy said I must not go home without having been to Land's End."
+
+"And when do you go home?" Miss Leighton inquired.
+
+"At the end of the month," Peggy answered, "when father is coming to
+fetch me. It has all been arranged. Father is going to take a few days'
+holiday; and I shall be able to show him the sea, and the village, and
+the church on the cliff, and all the poultry and the animals on the
+farm! Oh! I am so much looking forward to that! But I shall be very
+sorry when the time comes to leave Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy and dear old
+Wolf! I shall never forget my visit to Cornwall as long as I live! I
+shall not forget you, either," she went on, taking the old lady's hand
+between her own and pressing it. "I don't suppose we shall ever meet
+again, but I shall remember you—always. I wish you were not unfriendly
+with mother! I am sure she would like to be friendly with you. Don't
+you think, Aunt Caroline, you might forgive her now?"
+
+"Did any one tell you to say this to me?" questioned Miss Leighton
+suspiciously, glancing from the child to Mrs. Tiddy, who looked
+somewhat alarmed.
+
+"Oh, no, no! But it seems so dreadful and—and sad that you and mother
+should not be friends, for I know you used to be kind to her long ago;
+and you have been very kind to me—so different from what I thought you
+were like!"
+
+"It's my great desire to be always kind to you, Peggy," Miss Leighton
+said gravely and impressively. "I wish you to bear that in mind. But
+you must not meddle between your mother and me. Little girls should not
+interfere in matters they do not understand."
+
+Peggy blushed rosy red and her blue eyes filled with tears, but she
+managed to keep them back. She felt snubbed and uncomfortable, and was
+very relieved when Mrs. Tiddy declared they must go. Miss Leighton rose
+to escort her visitors to the garden gate, and, as they were leaving
+the room, Barnes came downstairs. Peggy recognised the maid's step
+immediately, and meet her with extended hands.
+
+"Good-bye, Barnes," she said, adding in a whisper, "I sha'n't forget
+all you told me about your poor brother, and I shall remember always to
+pray for him as I said I would. If you ever see me in London, you'll be
+sure to speak to me, will you not?"
+
+"Yes, miss," Barnes responded. She glanced hastily around and saw that
+her mistress had followed Mrs. Tiddy out of the front door, then she
+put her arms around Peggy and kissed her. "Good-bye, you dear little
+soul," she said affectionately. "You're going home soon, are you not,
+my dear?"
+
+"Yes," Peggy assented happily.
+
+"Ah, you'll be glad to be with your mother and father and brother
+again, won't you?"
+
+"Indeed I shall," agreed Peggy.
+
+"There's no place like home and the love we get there—remember that,
+Miss Peggy. It's better to be rich in love than in money, any day!"
+
+"Of course it is," smiled the little girl. "And I shall be very glad to
+be at home again, though Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been as kind as kind
+could be!"
+
+"They're good, kind people, miss; any one can see that, and you've been
+happy with them, I know; but—there, I mustn't keep you any longer!" And
+Barnes kissed Peggy once more and hurried away.
+
+After that, Peggy hastened to join the others at the garden gate. Mrs.
+Tiddy had already taken her place on the front seat of the dog-cart,
+and Mr. Tiddy was shaking hands with Miss Leighton and telling her, in
+his hearty, hospitable way, that she must never pay that district a
+visit without coming to Lower Brimley. She assured him that she never
+would.
+
+"Now then, Peggy. Ready?" he inquired briskly.
+
+The little girl assented, approaching Miss Leighton and holding out her
+hand. She raised her face to the old lady's and received a lingering
+kiss, which she returned rather shyly. Then, Mr. Tiddy lifted her in
+his arms and placed her on the back seat of the dog-cart, bidding her
+keep a firm hold of the rail of the vehicle and not fall out.
+
+"Good-bye, Aunt Caroline!" cried Peggy brightly, waving her hand, as
+they started off for home.
+
+But Miss Leighton made no response. There was a choking sensation in
+her throat, and she dared not attempt to speak for fear her voice
+should betray her emotion. She had a feeling, at that moment, that
+Peggy was going from her for ever, and that made her very sad.
+
+The spring evening was closing in fast now; and, as the dog-cart
+disappeared from sight, Miss Leighton turned and slowly retraced her
+footsteps towards the house, encountering Barnes as she entered the
+front door. The maid looked at her mistress a trifle curiously, and
+received a somewhat defiant glance in return.
+
+"Tell Mrs. Ford I shall require my supper immediately, as I shall have
+to be up early in the morning, and therefore shall go to bed in good
+time to-night, Barnes," Miss Leighton said, in her usual cold tone.
+
+"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied. "I am glad, ma'am, that Mrs. Tiddy
+brought little Miss Peggy to say good-bye to you," she ventured to add.
+
+"I have said good-bye to the child for the present," Miss Leighton
+responded deliberately; "but she too will soon be returning to town,
+and I have planned that we shall meet again."
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+HOME AGAIN
+
+"I SHOULD think they will be here very soon now!"
+
+The speaker was Mrs. Pringle, who stood at the sitting-room window of
+her home, looking out into the narrow street, one cold, wet, spring
+evening. Her arm was around Billy's shoulders; and the little boy's
+face, which wore an expression of eager watchfulness, was pressed close
+to the window-pane.
+
+"Yes," Billy answered, "I hope so. It always seems so long when one is
+waiting, doesn't it, mother? How it is raining!"
+
+"I wish it had been a finer evening for Peggy's return," Mrs. Pringle
+remarked. "We must keep the fire up."
+
+She moved back from the window and put mare coals into the grate.
+
+"We will give our little Sunbeam a warm welcome, at any rate," she
+added with a smile.
+
+All day, she had gone about her household duties with the happiest
+of hearts, and every now and again she had run upstairs to make sure
+that Peggy's bedroom was quite in order. For her husband, who had gone
+to Cornwall a few days previously, was expected to bring his little
+daughter home that night. Needless to say, Billy was no less delighted
+than his mother at the prospect of so soon seeing Peggy again; whilst
+Sarah, in the kitchen, had opened the door, that she might hear the
+expected cab pull up before the house, and kept the kettle on the boil
+in readiness to make tea the minute the travellers should arrive.
+
+"Here they are!" cried Billy excitedly, at last, and, followed by his
+mother, he rushed into the passage, almost colliding with Sarah, who
+was hurrying from the kitchen, and flung wide the front door, admitting
+as he did so a blast of cold wind.
+
+"Don't go out into the rain, Billy," advised Mrs. Pringle, her face
+aglow with expectancy. "See, your father is lifting Peggy out of the
+cab; he will bring her straight in."
+
+The next minute, Peggy was in her mother's arms, rapturously returning
+her mother's welcoming kiss; then came Billy's turn to be embraced,
+and after that, Sarah's. The little girl's countenance was one beam of
+happiness, and her cheeks were so rosy that her brother gazed at her in
+surprise.
+
+"Why, Peggy, how you've altered!" he cried. "And I do believe you've
+grown!"
+
+"I'm sure she has," Mrs. Pringle agreed. "She is looking remarkably
+well. She left home as white as a lily, and she has returned like a
+red, red rose."
+
+"Are you glad I've come home?" Peggy asked, not because she was in the
+least doubtful on the point, but because it was so sweet to know she
+had been missed and how welcome was her presence at home once more.
+
+"Glad?" exclaimed Billy, "I should think we are! We've all of us missed
+you most dreadfully, Peggy. Even Mr. Maloney noticed that the house
+seemed quite different without you!"
+
+"Yes; but now our little Sunbeam has returned to us," Mrs. Pringle said
+lovingly, "and it is such happiness to have her given back to us well
+and strong!"
+
+"And has no one a welcome for me?" asked Mr. Pringle at that point.
+He had seen about the luggage and dismissed the cabman, and now stood
+regarding the excited group with a glance half humorous, half tender.
+"Have you forgotten that you have not seen me for three whole days?
+Never mind," he continued, after he had kissed his wife and his little
+son, "I am content to take the second place to-night. But Peggy and I
+are both tired and hungry; so, suppose we have our tea at once—as soon
+as Peggy has removed her wraps."
+
+A very pleasant meal followed; and afterwards the family drew round the
+fireplace, in a circle, to talk.
+
+"I've so much to tell you, that I don't know where to begin," Peggy
+remarked. "Oh, I do think the very nicest part of going away on a visit
+is the coming home again!"
+
+There was a general laugh at that, and Mr. Pringle said:
+
+"That's good hearing, my dear. We left Cornwall bathed in glorious
+sunshine this morning," he continued, addressing his wife. "Your
+schoolfellow's home is in a most beautiful spot. I cannot express how
+greatly I have enjoyed my three days' holiday at Lower Brimley. Both
+Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been kindness itself, and never shall we be
+able to repay them for all they have done for Peggy!"
+
+"I was—oh, so sorry to say good-bye to them," the little girl said
+soberly, "and there was Wolf—poor Wolf! He had to be shut up in the
+stable for fear he would follow us to the station and want to go by
+train. He is such a dear, dear dog! You will love him, Billy, when you
+see him!"
+
+"Do you think I shall ever see him, Peggy?" Billy asked, anxiously. "Do
+you really think Mr. Tiddy will remember to invite me to Lower Brimley
+in the summer holidays?"
+
+"I am sure he will," the little girl replied positively. "I heard him
+mention it several times; he won't forget, he always keeps his word."
+
+"And what about Aunt Caroline?" Mrs. Pringle at length asked. "I was
+never more surprised in my life than when I heard you and she had met!"
+
+"Was it not strange?" Peggy said seriously. "You know she came from
+Penzance on purpose to see Mr. Tiddy's daffodils, and she was so
+pleased with them."
+
+"Did she find out who you were, then?"
+
+"Oh, no—not until long after that—when she was lodging at Higher
+Brimley. I met her on the beach and she spoke to me, and—and I talked
+rather much, for I told her my name—she asked me, I think—and all about
+my accident. Even then she didn't say who she was. But afterwards she
+came to Lower Brimley and asked permission to go around the garden—Mr.
+Tiddy had told her she might—and Mrs. Tiddy and I went with her, and
+just before she left she said I was distantly related to her and
+explained who she was. After that, she was very nice and kind to
+me—very kind indeed!"
+
+"But you don't like her, Peggy, do you?" cried Billy. "I thought her
+such a proud, cross old woman!"
+
+"She speaks in rather a proud way sometimes," Peggy allowed
+reluctantly, "but she isn't cross when you know her—at least, she
+wasn't to me. She said she wouldn't have driven away so quickly after I
+had been knocked down by her horse, if she had known I was blind. Yes,
+I rather like her, but I don't suppose I shall ever meet her again,
+though I should like to. And then there's Barnes—"
+
+"Barnes? Is she still with Aunt Caroline?" broke in Mrs. Pringle,
+eagerly.
+
+"Yes," nodded Peggy, "and she asked me such a lot of questions about
+you, mother. I like Barnes. She told me about her poor afflicted
+brother, and—wasn't it strange?—Aunt Caroline had never heard of him
+till I happened to speak of him to her."
+
+"I dare say not, my dear," Mrs. Pringle answered, evincing no surprise.
+"I remember about poor Barnes's brother," she proceeded. "He is not
+right in his mind, and Barnes helps support him and her mother too. The
+mother must be a very aged woman now."
+
+"Yes," the little girl answered. "Poor Barnes! Aunt Caroline used to
+speak so sharply to her sometimes—I heard her—but that is her way, I
+suppose."
+
+"It used to be," Mrs. Pringle admitted with a sigh, "and, from what you
+tell me, I imagine she has not altered much these last ten years."
+
+"I don't think she's a bit happy," Peggy said, shaking her golden head.
+"That seems very sad, doesn't it? Barnes told the servants at Lower
+Brimley that Aunt Caroline has no friends, because she always thinks
+people who are nice to her want her money."
+
+"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Pringle understandingly, with a quick glance at
+her husband. "Poor Aunt Caroline!"
+
+She sat in silence after that, listening whilst Peggy expatiated at
+great length upon all the delights of life at a farm. Billy drank in
+every word with keen interest, reflecting that some day, not so very
+distant, he would most likely enjoy his share of the pleasures which
+his sister explained so marvellously—considering she had been unable to
+see.
+
+"I know everything was very beautiful," she said, in conclusion, "for
+there seemed to be flowers everywhere, and the scent of the gorse on
+the cliffs was wonderful—I never smelt anything so sweet or strong
+before! And the air was so warm, and the sun shone nearly every day,
+and—"
+
+"And now you have come back to rain and cold," interposed Mrs. Pringle;
+"you will feel it a hardship, I fear, after the mild climate you've
+enjoyed of late and after having spent so much time out-of-doors, to be
+cooped up in a small house again."
+
+"I don't mind the rain and the cold in the very least," Peggy declared,
+"and I love our little house. Oh, I'm so glad to be at home! Yes,
+indeed I am! I've enjoyed my visit to Cornwall; but I think I've missed
+you all as much or more than you have missed me. I'm glad I went, but
+I'm gladder still to be back again—to be able to hear your voices and
+put out my hands and feel you are here! You would understand what that
+means, if you were blind. Oh, I think I was never so happy in my life
+before as I am to-night."
+
+"Thank God for that, my darling," Mrs. Pringle responded in a tremulous
+voice. "Oh, we have much to thank Him for!" she added softly, as
+she remembered the pale, delicate little girl she had seen off at
+Paddington railway station with a very heavy heart six weeks previously
+and mentally compared her with the one—a picture of health and
+contentment—who now nestled close to her side. She had prayed—oh, so
+earnestly!—that Peggy might be restored to her well and strong, and her
+Father in Heaven had answered her prayer.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT
+
+THE first few days after Peggy's return home were very wet and cold,
+although it was late spring. But one morning, she arose conscious of a
+change in the atmosphere and that the sun was shining into her bedroom
+window, whilst the sparrows were twittering noisily outside as though
+they had matters of great importance to discuss with each other.
+
+"I think we are going to have a taste of spring weather at last,"
+observed Mr. Pringle at the breakfast table that morning. "There's the
+promise of a beautiful May day, and I hope," he continued, addressing
+his wife, "that you will manage to get out for a while in the
+sunshine—you and Peggy."
+
+"I want to do so," Mrs. Pringle replied. "I have some shopping to do
+first of all, and afterwards we may, perhaps, extend our walk."
+
+Accordingly Peggy and her mother spent most of the morning
+out-of-doors. They were both in excellent spirits, and though, of
+course, they had to take their walk in the streets, they thoroughly
+enjoyed it. Mrs. Pringle looked into the shops and told her little
+daughter what the windows contained; and they bought a bunch of
+wallflowers from a costermonger's barrow, for a penny, which smelt
+almost as sweet as those at Lower Brimley, Peggy declared, and she
+wondered if they had come from Cornwall—that corner of the world which,
+to the blind child, would always be remembered as a paradise of flowers.
+
+Then, on their way home, they encountered Mr. Maloney, whom Peggy had
+not met since her return. He turned and walked with them as far as
+their own door, listening with a rather preoccupied air, Mrs. Pringle
+thought, to the little girl's chatter, and watching her animated
+countenance with an expression of grave scrutiny in his kindly eyes.
+
+"I want a private conversation with you and your husband, Mrs.
+Pringle," he remarked. "If I call this evening, shall I find you both
+disengaged?"
+
+"Yes," she assented, adding anxiously, "there is nothing wrong, is
+there? You have no bad news to tell us?"
+
+"Oh, no!" he responded, with a reassuring smile. "Please do not imagine
+that for a moment. I will call this evening, then, about seven."
+
+Peggy wondered what Mr. Maloney could have to say to her parents in
+private. And Mr. Pringle expressed astonishment when his wife informed
+him at dinner-time of the reason the Vicar had assigned for his
+proposed call. Whilst Billy, though he made no remark, was filled with
+intense curiosity, and by the evening had become quite excited, and
+found great difficulty in concentrating his mind to prepare his lessons
+for the following day.
+
+Mr. Pringle had given orders that the Vicar was to be shown into the
+music-room, as the small apartment was called which was apportioned
+to the use of the master of the house. And as soon as Mrs. Pringle,
+who had been sewing in the sitting-room, heard Sarah admit Mr. Maloney
+punctually at the hour he had appointed, she laid aside her work, and
+the next moment, the children were alone.
+
+Billy continued to pore over his lesson books, whilst Peggy sat
+opposite to him at the table, her busy fingers engaged in knitting a
+sock, one of a pair she was making for her father. Sarah had taught the
+little girl the accomplishment of knitting during the long evenings
+of the previous winter, and the pupil did her teacher great credit.
+There had been silence in the room, except for the click of Peggy's
+knitting-needles, for some minutes, when the little girl suddenly
+dropped her work, and springing to her feet, stood listening intently.
+
+"What is it?" asked Billy, glancing at her quickly, and noting that she
+had grown very pale. "What do you hear?"
+
+"Nothing, now," she answered tremulously. "But I thought—I thought—I
+suppose it was my fancy!"
+
+"What did you think you heard?" he questioned curiously. "Why, you have
+turned quite white! What startled you, Peggy?"
+
+"I thought I heard mother crying, but I suppose I was wrong. I don't
+hear anything now."
+
+Billy went to the door, opened it, and listened; but nothing could be
+heard except a murmur of voices from the music-room. He shut the door
+and returned to the table.
+
+"Why should mother cry?" he demanded, uneasily.
+
+"Didn't you tell me Mr. Maloney said nothing was wrong?"
+
+"Yes," Peggy responded, "and he wouldn't have deceived us, I know."
+
+"Then mother wouldn't cry for nothing!"
+
+"I expect it was my mistake, Billy."
+
+More than half an hour passed—an hour—and at last the children heard
+the music-room door open and footsteps in the passage. Then the front
+door opened and shut, and a moment afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Pringle
+entered the sitting-room without their visitor.
+
+One glance at his mother told Billy that his sister's sharp ears
+had not deceived her, for there were traces of recent tears on Mrs.
+Pringle's face. She crossed the room and took a chair by her little
+daughter's side, and her voice bespoke strong emotion as she said:
+
+"Peggy, dear, we have decided to tell you what brought Mr. Maloney here
+to-night. Yesterday, he had a visit from Aunt Caroline, who wishes
+to—to—"
+
+"Oh, I know!" cried Peggy joyfully, as her mother hesitated. "She
+wishes to be friendly with you, mother! Isn't it that?"
+
+"No, dear," Mrs. Pringle replied sadly. "She has no desire to have
+anything to do with any of us but you. She would like to adopt you,
+Peggy—to have you to live with her—"
+
+"Oh mother!" broke in the little girl. "No! No!"
+
+"That is what she wishes. She offers to bring you up and provide for
+you, and to make you a rich woman some day. But your father and I have
+declined her offer, Peggy darling. We will keep our little daughter and
+trust to Providence to take care of her future."
+
+"You have been crying," said Peggy distressfully, "and I can hear the
+tears in your voice now. Oh, don't cry, mother! What can Aunt Caroline
+be thinking of, to imagine you and father would let her adopt me! As
+though I could leave you all to go and live with her!"
+
+"I knew she was a nasty old woman!" cried Billy, in tones of the
+greatest indignation. "And now I know she is cruel too! It is cruel of
+her to wish to take Peggy away from us! And the idea of her going to
+Mr. Maloney and—"
+
+"Hush, Billy!" admonished Mr. Pringle. "She went to Mr. Maloney because
+she knew he was our friend," he proceeded. "You must not misjudge her;
+certainly she did not mean to be cruel. I have no doubt she imagines
+she is acting kindly; but she does not understand us or realise that
+Peggy would not be happy separated from the members of her own family.
+We have talked over Miss Leighton's offer with Mr. Maloney, and we have
+declined it. I think we are right, and Mr. Maloney thinks so too; but
+he could not well refuse to put Miss Leighton's offer before us, as
+she had made a point of his doing so. To-morrow he will give her our
+reply, and I fear she will be very angry as well as disappointed; but
+we cannot part with our little Sunbeam," he concluded tenderly.
+
+"Did she want me to live with her altogether?" Peggy asked wonderingly,
+taking her mother's hand and holding it in a firm clasp.
+
+"Yes, dear. She said you might come home sometimes—that she would not
+object to your coming to see us now and again, but—oh, Peggy, Peggy!"
+And poor Mrs. Pringle caught the little girl in her arms and kissed her
+passionately. "I hope we haven't been selfish," she continued, "but God
+gave you to us, and I cannot think it would be right to give you up
+for the sake of worldly advantages. No, I cannot think that! You have
+always had a happy home, have you not, Peggy?"
+
+"Oh, so happy!" the little girl answered earnestly. "Why do you cry,
+mother—when I am not going to leave you?"
+
+"I am very foolish, I dare say," said Mrs. Pringle. "But it hurts me to
+think Aunt Caroline could imagine I would give up my own child."
+
+"Poor woman, she over-estimates the worth of her money," Mr. Pringle
+remarked, with a pitying note in his voice. "She does not understand
+that there are things even in this world not to be purchased with gold."
+
+"Why should she want to adopt me?" questioned Peggy wonderingly,
+turning her flushed face towards her father. "It is not even as though
+I wasn't blind! Why doesn't she adopt some little girl who has no
+mother or father or brother to love her? Why should she want me?"
+
+"Because, somehow, you have touched a soft spot in her heart, little
+Sunbeam," Mr. Pringle answered. "I can think of no other reason. Poor
+Miss Leighton! I am afraid she will be very disappointed when she hears
+we cannot favour her plan."
+
+"Poor Aunt Caroline!" sighed Peggy. "Why can't she be friendly with us
+all, and come and see us and be nice like she was when she came to tea
+at Lower Brimley?" And she shook her head sorrowfully as she thought of
+the old lady, so rich in money, so poor in other ways.
+
+Billy, looking at his sister, wondered at the regretful expression of
+her face. He could not tell, and he certainly would have been amazed,
+had he known that her tender heart was ready to pour a portion of the
+wealth of its affection upon her whom he regarded, not unnaturally,
+as one of the proudest and most disagreeable of people, and he felt
+triumphant as he reflected that Miss Leighton would be disappointed at
+finding herself balked in her selfish plan.
+
+When, on the following day, Miss Leighton heard from Mr. Maloney that
+Mr. and Mrs. Pringle had considered her offer and courteously declined
+it, she made no comment on their decision whatever. But she was even
+more disappointed than Billy had anticipated she would be, and there
+was more of sorrow than of anger in her heart. Briefly she informed
+Barnes that Peggy's parents had refused to allow her to adopt the child.
+
+"You were right, Barnes," she admitted with a sigh. "You thought my
+niece would refuse my offer, did you not?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered briefly. She said no more, for in her
+heart she was confident that Peggy would be better and happier at home.
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS
+
+FOR many months, the Pringle family heard no more of Miss Leighton.
+Spring gave place to summer; and in the early autumn Billy paid his
+visit to Cornwall, returning, after a never-to-be forgotten six weeks'
+holiday, with Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy, who spent a short while in London,
+during which time they went to see Miss Leighton, mindful of the
+promise which they had made to her.
+
+But, although the old lady received her Cornish acquaintances with
+every sign of cordiality and pleasure, she never once mentioned Peggy,
+and when Mrs. Tiddy spoke of her, she quickly changed the conversation,
+so that her visitors came to the conclusion that her liking for the
+little blind girl had been merely a passing fancy, and that she had
+lost the interest she had certainly once entertained for the child.
+Such, however, was not the case.
+
+It was the end of September when the Tiddys returned to their Cornish
+home; and shortly afterwards Miss Leighton had a long and serious
+illness, the result of a neglected cold. When she had recovered and
+was able to dispense with the services of the trained nurse, who, with
+Barnes, had nursed her back to health, it was December, and every one
+was preparing for Christmas.
+
+The season of peace and goodwill never brought much happiness to Miss
+Leighton nowadays; but it made many calls upon her purse. And when
+she had written several cheques to be sent to the various charities
+to which she was a regular contributor, she generally considered she
+had done all that could be reasonably expected of her for her fellow
+creatures.
+
+But this year, as she sat by the fire in the drawing-room of her London
+house, one afternoon about a week before Christmas, a sense of unusual
+dissatisfaction with herself began to creep over her. Memory was busy
+with her; and, gazing into the fire, she pictured a little figure clad
+in a shabby blue serge coat and skirt and a Tam o' Shanter cap, and saw
+once more a fair face with a halo of golden curls around it—a happy
+face, beautiful with that inward peace and light which only God can
+give. Then, in her imagination, she heard a clear, child's voice say:
+
+"But I don't think she can be really charitable, if she isn't kind in
+little ways and if she's unforgiving!"
+
+Miss Leighton winced as she recalled the words and the decided tone
+in which they had been uttered. How the child's judgment of her had
+rankled in her heart! It had hurt her at the time it had been given,
+though she had never resented it: it hurt her a great deal more now.
+
+"I would have been kind to Peggy, if her parents would have let me,"
+she thought. "There is nothing I would have denied her. I should like
+to do something to please her—to add to her happiness this Christmas.
+How I should like to see her again! She was such a bright, contented
+little girl! When I was ill, she was continually in my thoughts, and
+one night, I fancied I heard her singing that hymn about light at
+evening time—she has a very sweet voice. I wonder if Margaret would let
+the child come and see me? I hardly like to ask her a favour, but I
+long to see Peggy once more. Ah, here's Barnes!"
+
+The maid had been to match some silks for a piece of fancy-work her
+mistress was making; but Miss Leighton was not in the mood to look at
+her purchases now.
+
+"Sit down, Barnes," she said. "I want to speak to you."
+
+"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied, taking a chair and glancing at her
+mistress inquiringly. There was a better understanding between these
+two than there had been formerly, for each had discovered of late, that
+the other had a heart; and Barnes had nursed Miss Leighton devotedly
+during her long illness, a fact Miss Leighton was not likely to forget.
+
+"I suppose the shops are very gay?" Miss Leighton questioned.
+
+"Yes, ma'am, they are full of Christmas presents."
+
+"And doubtless you've made some purchases to send to your mother and
+brother?"
+
+Barnes assented, a pleased flush rising to her pale cheeks at the
+unusual kindness of her mistress's tone. She was emboldened to give
+Miss Leighton a list of the articles she had bought to send home to her
+people.
+
+"I pack up a hamper for them every Christmas," she explained in
+conclusion, "and my poor brother is always so excited to see it
+unpacked."
+
+"But would it not be much less trouble to you to send your mother the
+money you spend and let her buy what she wants herself?" Miss Leighton
+inquired.
+
+"Perhaps so, ma'am; but that would not be half so much pleasure to
+mother or to me. I like thinking and planning how I shall fill the
+hamper with those things which I know will be most acceptable, and when
+mother receives it and takes out its contents, she knows I've borne her
+wants in mind. I've knitted her a nice warm shawl, and she'll be much
+prouder of it, because I've made it, than if I'd bought it ready made."
+
+"I see, Barnes. I wonder what sort of Christmas my little grand-niece
+will spend."
+
+Barnes started, and a somewhat guilty expression crossed her
+countenance as she answered hurriedly:
+
+"A very happy one, I expect. Children mostly love Christmas time, and
+she has a very happy home."
+
+"How do you know?" Miss Leighton asked suspiciously.
+
+"I— I've been there, ma'am. I went to St. John's one Sunday afternoon
+to hear Mr. Maloney preach at a children's service, and I saw Miss
+Peggy there with her mother and brother. After the service, outside the
+church, I spoke to them, and Mrs. Pringle asked me to their house to
+have a cup of tea—and I went."
+
+"Well?" said Miss Leighton, with repressed eagerness in her voice.
+"What is the place like?"
+
+"The house, ma'am? It's one of a terrace, very small but comfortable
+and homely. Perhaps I ought to have told you that I'd been there, but I
+did not like to mention it."
+
+"Has my niece altered much?" Miss Leighton asked after a brief pause.
+
+"No, ma'am, very little. She inquired for you and looked so sorry when
+she heard how ill you'd been, and Miss Peggy said—" Barnes paused
+abruptly in some confusion.
+
+"Well, what did Miss Peggy say? I insist upon your telling me."
+
+"She said, 'Poor Aunt Caroline! How dreadful it would have been if she
+had died and we had never known! How I wish she would be friends with
+us all! She used to be so nice in Cornwall.' That's what she said,
+ma'am, shaking her curly head—you remember how she used to do that?
+It's natural she shouldn't understand how you feel towards her mother."
+
+Miss Leighton sighed. During her late illness she had been brought
+face to face with death; and, for the first time, doubts of herself
+had assailed her, and she had seen her unforgiving spirit in its true
+light. Pride had always been her stumbling-block through life; and it
+had been her pride which had suffered when her niece, to whom in her
+way she had really been attached, had elected to marry the hardworking
+music-master who was now the organist of St. John's.
+
+Her only reason for objecting to Mr. Pringle as her niece's husband
+had been because he had been poor. She had always thought so much of
+riches, but they had never brought her happiness; as a matter of fact,
+they had stood between her and her fellow creatures, they had warped
+her sympathies; and sadly and regretfully, the woman of great wealth
+admitted to herself that though she had given her money to clothe the
+naked and feed the poor, it had profited her nothing, for the spirit of
+charity had never been hers.
+
+"I am an old woman, and no one cares for me," she thought. "The love I
+might have had, I deliberately put away. I should not be lonely to-day,
+if I had not cast Margaret aside when she married. How she wept when I
+said I would never willingly look on her face again, and I thought it
+was my money she was regretting, not me!"
+
+Aloud she said:
+
+"Does Mr. Maloney hold a children's service every Sunday afternoon,
+Barnes?"
+
+Then, as Barnes assented, she continued: "I have heard high praises of
+his preaching, and I should like to hear one of his sermons. If I go to
+St. John's next Sunday afternoon, will you accompany me?"
+
+"Certainly, ma'am," Barnes responded promptly, her face showing the
+intense amazement she felt. She regarded her mistress with anxious
+scrutiny, marvelling at the softened expression on her countenance. She
+hoped she was not going to be ill again.
+
+"Perhaps we shall see Miss Peggy there," she proceeded; "but, if so,
+I expect her mother will be with her. I suppose you will not speak to
+them, ma'am?"
+
+"I cannot tell," Miss Leighton answered musingly. "I—I shall be guided
+by circumstances."
+
+"Oh, ma'am!" cried Barnes eagerly. "Don't be angry with me for saying
+this; but, if you could bring yourself to forgive Mrs. Pringle—"
+
+"That will do," broke in Miss Leighton with a return of her usual
+imperious manner. "I can imagine what you were about to say. No, I'm
+not angry. You're a well-meaning soul, Barnes, but—you may go!"
+
+Barnes needed no second bidding. She slipped quietly out of the room,
+fearing she had done more harm than good; whilst Miss Leighton leaned
+back in her easy chair, a prey to anxious thoughts. She had said she
+would go to St. John's on the following Sunday, and she meant to keep
+her word, for she really was curious to hear Mr. Maloney preach, and
+she hoped she might at any rate catch a glimpse of Peggy, though she
+determined, now, that she would not speak to her. How could she ignore
+the mother and notice the child?
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+IT was Sunday afternoon. The children's service at St. John's was
+nearly at an end; and now the Vicar had ascended into the pulpit to
+address a few simple words to his congregation before giving out the
+number of the concluding hymn. He took for his text the Saviour's
+promise, "He that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness," and, in
+the first place, reminded his hearers that in a very few days, they
+would be commemorating the birth of Him Who is called "The Light of the
+World." Would they not try to follow Him? he asked.
+
+Then he pictured the childhood of Jesus, and many a pair of bright
+young eyes grew earnest and thoughtful as their owners' interest was
+chained by the story which the Vicar knew so well how to tell, pointing
+out to the children that the Christ-Child should be their pattern,
+that, like Him, they should be good, and kind, and obedient. And that,
+if they trusted in Him, He would be their Saviour and their Friend.
+
+Finally, he explained that darkness meant selfishness and sin, and that
+the child who was untruthful, or dishonest, or unkind, was walking in
+darkness, apart from God. And that to follow Jesus, they must learn to
+be gentle, and pitiful, and loving, and faithful in word and deed: then
+would Christ's promise be for them—"He that followeth Me shall not walk
+in darkness!"
+
+It was a very short sermon, but so simple that no child could fail to
+understand it; and when it was over, and the Vicar descended from the
+pulpit, Peggy Pringle, who, seated by her brother's side, had listened
+to every word Mr. Maloney had said with the closest attention, turned
+her face to Billy with a pleased smile curving her lips, and thus
+allowed an old lady close behind her, a sight of her profile.
+
+The old lady, who was no other than Miss Leighton, felt her heart begin
+to beat unevenly as she recognised Peggy. She had been on the lookout
+for her all through the service; but the church was so full of children
+that she had not picked out her little great-niece amongst so many, and
+lo! All the while she had been within reach of her hand.
+
+In another minute the congregation had arisen, and with a dream-like
+sensation, Miss Leighton once more listened to the same hymn Peggy had
+sung to her in Cornwall months before:
+
+   "Holy Father, cheer our way
+    With Thy love's perpetual ray:
+    Grant us every closing day
+       Light at evening time."
+
+Tears dimmed the old lady's eyes, and a softening influence stole
+into her proud heart; and when, at the conclusion of the hymn, the
+congregation knelt in prayer, Miss Leighton covered her face with her
+hands and prayed fervently that she, who had walked in darkness so
+long, might be guided into the way of light.
+
+"Barnes, I must speak to Peggy," she said in an agitated voice, as she
+and her maid left the church and stood under the lamp outside. "Do not
+let her pass us by."
+
+"She is with her brother, ma'am," Barnes answered. "I do not think Mrs.
+Pringle is here."
+
+At that instant Peggy and Billy appeared, hand in hand, and Miss
+Leighton stepped quickly forward; but, immediately, Billy put himself
+between her and his sister.
+
+"Go away!" he cried indignantly, for he had recognised Miss Leighton,
+and the wild idea that she might wish to lure Peggy away from him, then
+and there had flashed through his mind. "I'm not going to let you touch
+her!"
+
+"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Leighton in surprise. "Peggy! It's
+I—Aunt Caroline! Won't you speak to me, child?"
+
+At the sound of the well-remembered voice the little girl flushed
+rosily, a look of astonishment and—Miss Leighton saw she was not
+mistaken—of joy lighting up her face; seeing which, Billy allowed her
+to receive the old lady's warm embrace, though he still retained a firm
+grasp of her hand.
+
+"How are you, Peggy?" Miss Leighton began. "You look very well," she
+continued, without waiting for a reply. "We—Barnes and I—came to hear
+your friend Mr. Maloney preach, and I thought I should like a word with
+you. We sat close behind you in church."
+
+"Did you?" said Peggy, smiling. "Wasn't it a nice sermon? And we had my
+favourite hymn! Oh, Aunt Caroline," she proceeded sympathetically, "we
+were so sorry to hear you had been ill. Are you really quite well now?
+Yes. Oh, I'm so glad! Oh, Barnes, how do you do? Aunt Caroline, this is
+Billy. Billy, you remember Aunt Caroline, don't you? You know you saw
+her once before and you said you would know her again."
+
+Billy had no alternative but to shake hands with Miss Leighton. And,
+now he came to regard her more closely, she did not look the sort of
+person who would steal his sister from him. He thought he read goodwill
+towards himself in her face, as he scrutinised it in the light of the
+lamp near which they were standing, and she showed no resentment for
+the decidedly rude way in which he had treated her, the real fact
+being that she had guessed the impulse which had prompted his strange
+behaviour. For some minutes, he watched her talking to Peggy whilst
+Barnes stood aside patiently waiting. Then, he reminded his sister that
+if they did not go home, their mother would wonder what had become of
+them.
+
+"Yes," agreed Peggy, "we mustn't wait any longer. Mother's at home
+alone—it's Sarah's afternoon out—and she's always anxious if we're
+later than she expects us."
+
+"One moment more," said Miss Leighton. "I must wish you a very happy
+Christmas before we part, and I want you to tell me what I can give
+you for a present. Choose whatever you like. And Billy—he must choose
+something too!"
+
+"Oh, how kind of you!" cried Peggy. Whilst Billy's eyes glistened
+with delight, and a look of approval settled on his face—approval of
+this great-aunt of his, against whom he had entertained such a strong
+prejudice before.
+
+"I want to do something to add to your happiness," Miss Leighton said,
+in a voice which trembled with an emotion which she tried in vain to
+repress.
+
+"Do you, Aunt Caroline?" the little girl questioned earnestly. "Do you,
+indeed?"
+
+"Yes, my dear—"
+
+"Then if you really and truly want to add to my happiness," Peggy broke
+in excitedly, "you'll come home with us now—we've not far to go—and be
+friends with mother again! Oh, do come! It grieves mother dreadfully to
+think you're angry with her! But, you're not angry any longer, are you?"
+
+Miss Leighton could not say she was, for her bitterness against Peggy's
+mother had been slowly fading away since she had known Peggy herself.
+Her head was in a whirl with conflicting thoughts. But she felt she
+must accept or decline her little niece's invitation at once—she could
+not discuss it there in the street.
+
+"My dear, I cannot—" she was beginning, when a rush of tenderer,
+better feelings than she had experienced for years filled her heart
+and caused her to hesitate. She looked at Peggy's expectant face with
+its sightless blue eyes, and the last remnant of her pride died away,
+though she repeated, "I cannot, I cannot!"
+
+But the sharp ears of the blind child had caught the note of indecision
+in the other's tone, and taking the old lady by the hand she said
+persuasively:
+
+"Come, Aunt Caroline, we will go on, and Barnes and Billy will follow.
+I know the way quite well. Oh, do come!"
+
+And, much to Barnes's astonishment, and Billy's intense excitement,
+Miss Leighton answered in a voice which no longer wavered, but had
+become decided and firm:
+
+"To please you, little Sunbeam, I will!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Here's wonderful news from the Pringles!" exclaimed Mrs. Tiddy on
+Christmas morning, as she stood in the hall at Lower Brimley, ready
+to start for church with her husband, and glanced hastily through the
+letter she held in her hand—one of several which the postman had just
+delivered. "I cannot stay to read all Margaret says now, but I see she
+has had a visit from her aunt, and there must have been a complete
+reconciliation, for—fancy, Ebenezer!—the old lady is going to dine with
+them to-day!"
+
+"I'm heartily glad to hear it," Mr. Tiddy responded. "Depend upon it,
+Peggy has brought that about—the reconciliation, I mean. But come, my
+dear, or we shall be late for church."
+
+Then as they passed down the garden path, side by side, he continued:
+
+"I always felt there was One above Who arranged that Miss Leighton and
+Peggy should meet here and get to know each other. I expect the old
+lady will have a happier Christmas to-day than she has had for many a
+long year."
+
+And Mr. Tiddy was right, for this year, Miss Leighton found fresh
+beauty in the angels' message of peace and goodwill, and her Christmas
+Day was a very happy one, spent in her niece's home. God had softened
+her proud heart by the unconscious influence of the blind child, and He
+was granting her light in the evening time of her life. Miss Leighton
+had never felt so rich before as she did on this Christmas Day.
+
+
+
+PRINTED BY
+SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE
+LONDON
+
+
+
+
+
+
 *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE SUNBEAM ***
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-<!DOCTYPE html>

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-    <title>

-      Little Sunbeam, by Eleanora H. Stooke—A Project Gutenberg eBook

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-<body>

-<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE SUNBEAM ***</div>

-

-<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;">

-  <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001">

-</figure>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 29.875em;">

-  <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002">

-</figure>

-<p class="t4">

-<b>THE CORNISH FLOWER-FARM.</b><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h1><em>LITTLE SUNBEAM</em></h1>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p class="t3">

-BY<br>

-</p>

-

-<p class="t1">

-<em>ELEANORA H. STOOKE</em><br>

-<br>

-</p>

-

-<p class="t4">

-<em>AUTHOR OF "GRANFER," ETC.</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br><br></p>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>WITH FRONTISPIECE BY MYRA K. HUGHES</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<p class="t4">

-LONDON<br>

-</p>

-

-<p class="t3">

-NATIONAL SOCIETY'S DEPOSITORY<br>

-</p>

-

-<p class="t4">

-BROAD SANCTUARY, WESTMINSTER<br>

-NEW YORK: THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 &amp; 3 BIBLE HOUSE<br>

-<br>

-[All rights reserved]<br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-

-

-<p class="t4">

-PRINTED BY<br>

-SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE<br>

-LONDON<br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-

-

-<p class="t3">

-BY THE SAME AUTHOR<br>

-<br>

-GRANFER, and ONE CHRISTMAS TIME.<br>

-</p>

-

-<p class="t4">

-Price 1s.<br>

-<br>

-</p>

-

-<p class="t3">

-NATIONAL SOCIETY'S DEPOSITORY,<br>

-</p>

-

-<p class="t4">

-Sanctuary, Westminster, S. W.<br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<p class="t3b">

-CONTENTS<br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>CHAPTER</p>

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_1">I. KNOCKED DOWN</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_2">II. CONCERNING AUNT CAROLINE</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_3">III. THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_4">IV. PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_5">V. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_6">VI. MISS LEIGHTON'S DISCOVERY</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_7">VII. A GREAT SURPRISE</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_8">VIII. CONCERNING ELLEN BARNES</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_9">IX. TEA AT LOWER BRIMLEY</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_10">X. GOOD-BYES</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_11">XI. HOME AGAIN</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_12">XII. AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_13">XIII. PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS</a></p>

-

-<p><a href="#Chapter_14">XIV. CONCLUSION</a></p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<p class="t2">

-<em>LITTLE SUNBEAM</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>KNOCKED DOWN</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>"COME along, Billy. Mother said we were not to be long; and I'm sure

-we've been more than half an hour."</p>

-

-<p>The speaker—a little girl of about nine years old, clad in a somewhat

-shabby blue serge coat and skirt, with a Tam o' Shanter cap on her

-golden curls—tried to pull her brother away from the toy shop window

-into which he was gazing longingly; but he resisted, and still lingered.</p>

-

-<p>"There's plenty of time, Peggy," he assured her. "You know we never

-have tea till five o'clock, and you can't imagine what a heap of jolly

-things there are in this window. I wish you could see them."</p>

-

-<p>"I wish I could," she answered. "Never mind, you can tell me all about

-them by-and-by."</p>

-

-<p>It was a cold, dull, February day; but it did not rain, and the street

-was thronged with vehicles, whilst the pedestrians—mostly of the lower

-classes, for the district was a poor one—hustled against each other

-on the pavements. No one took any notice of the two children who had

-been standing before a toy shop window for the last ten minutes. And,

-indeed, there was nothing about them to attract the observation of a

-casual observer, although the countenance of the little girl, with its

-finely-cut features and sweet expression, possessed a delicate beauty

-which was certainly out of the common. No one looking at Peggy Pringle

-would have guessed that she was blind, for her eyes, in colour the

-darkest blue, were as clear as crystal; but the sad fact was that the

-blessing of sight was denied to her.</p>

-

-<p>It had been a terrible trouble to the child's parents when, some months

-after her birth, they had learnt the truth, that the happy baby, whose

-rosebud lips seemed formed only for smiles, and whose eyes were "bits

-of Heaven's blue" as her young mother had used to declare, would never

-see the light of day, and they had grieved deeply. But Peggy had never

-appeared to realise how great was her affliction, and at the present

-time it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to find a more

-contented little girl. "Little Sunbeam" her father had nicknamed her

-years before, and a veritable sunbeam in the household she continued to

-be.</p>

-

-<p>Peggy and her brother, who was only thirteen months her junior, had

-been sent to buy buns for tea, and she was holding the bag which

-contained them with one hand, whilst with the other she kept a firm

-grip of Billy's coat. She was not exactly nervous in a crowd, for she

-had been accustomed to London all her life, and her home was in a

-thickly populated district. But she experienced a sense of bewilderment

-as she listened to the hurrying footsteps on the pavement and the

-continual roll of carriage wheels, and she wished Billy would tire of

-looking into shop windows and return home.</p>

-

-<p>"Come, Billy," she urged again, "mother will wonder what is keeping us.

-Do come."</p>

-

-<p>Accordingly, Billy took his sister by the hand with an air of

-protection, and they walked on. At the corner of the street, they stood

-waiting for a favourable opportunity to cross.</p>

-

-<p>"Is there a policeman near?" asked Peggy.</p>

-

-<p>"There's one on the other side of the road," replied Billy, "but we

-don't want him. I can manage all right. When I say 'Now,' mind you come

-right on."</p>

-

-<p>A minute later Billy cried, "Now!"</p>

-

-<p>So, hand in hand, the children went fearlessly forward. And they would

-have effected the crossing in safety had not a private carriage, drawn

-by a pair of spirited horses, turned the corner from a side street.

-Billy hurried his sister on; but the road was slippery, and, in her

-haste, the little girl stumbled and let go her brother's hand. Some

-one flung Billy on one side, whilst the coachman driving the pair of

-horses pulled them back on their haunches in time to prevent a serious

-accident, but not before one of the animals had struck poor Peggy on

-the shoulder with its hoof. She was borne to the pavement in the arms

-of the policeman whose help Billy had disdained, and in a few minutes a

-small crowd had congregated.</p>

-

-<p>"What has happened?" inquired an imperious voice from the interior of

-the carriage. "Is any one injured?"</p>

-

-<p>"A little girl," answered the policeman. "I think she's more frightened

-than hurt, though," he added, as he set Peggy on the ground, and Billy,

-pale and frightened, rushed to her side.</p>

-

-<p>"Was my coachman at fault?" was the next question.</p>

-

-<p>"No, ma'am. He was driving carefully, and had the horses under proper

-control; but—"</p>

-

-<p>"That's all I want to know, thank you."</p>

-

-<p>A head was thrust out of the carriage window, and the crowd saw the

-face—a haughty, handsome face it was—of a white-haired old lady, who

-beckoned to the policeman to approach, which he did.</p>

-

-<p>"You had better take the little girl to a hospital, if she is hurt,"

-the old lady said, in a tone which expressed neither interest nor

-sympathy. "I suppose that would be your duty? Well, you know your

-business; it is none of mine, as my servant, you assure me, is

-blameless. However, here is my card should you require to communicate

-with me."</p>

-

-<p>The handsome old face drew back from the window, and the carriage was

-driven away, whilst the crowd dispersed, leaving only the policeman and

-one other—an elderly clergyman, who had come upon the scene after the

-accident—with the frightened children.</p>

-

-<p>"Where are you hurt, my dear little girl?"</p>

-

-<p>Peggy's shocked face brightened at the sound of the kindly voice, which

-she recognised immediately as belonging to Mr. Maloney, the Vicar of

-St. John's Church, where her father was the organist.</p>

-

-<p>"It's my shoulder," she answered. "Oh, Mr. Maloney, do please take me

-home!"</p>

-

-<p>"Of course I will, my dear," he responded promptly, with a reassuring

-nod and smile at Billy. "What happened?" he inquired of the policeman,

-who briefly explained, adding that no one had been in fault.</p>

-

-<p>"Billy couldn't have helped it," Peggy said hastily, fearful lest blame

-should be attached to her brother.</p>

-

-<p>"No, the little boy was not to blame," agreed the policeman. "Are you

-going to take charge of the children, sir?" he asked of the clergyman.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. I know them well; their father is Mr. Pringle, the organist of

-St. John's Church. What is this?" Mr. Maloney questioned as he took the

-card the policeman presented to him.</p>

-

-<p>"The lady in the carriage gave it to me, sir. I have made a note of the

-name and the address. Maybe the little girl's father will make some

-claim—"</p>

-

-<p>"I imagine not," interposed the clergyman quickly; "but I will take the

-card and give it to Mr. Pringle. Thank you,"—and he slipped the bit of

-pasteboard into his vest pocket.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Billy, I dropped the buns!" exclaimed Peggy regretfully. They had

-no money to buy more, and the buns had been purchased for a treat.</p>

-

-<p>"The horses trod on them," Billy replied; "but, never mind, mother

-won't think anything about them when she knows what's happened. I'm

-afraid she'll never trust you out alone with me any more."</p>

-

-<p>The little girl made no response. The pain in her shoulder was making

-her feel sick and faint, and her legs trembled as she walked along by

-Mr. Maloney's side, her hand in his. He saw she was suffering, and

-regarded her with compassionate eyes, whilst he exchanged remarks

-with Billy. Soon she began to lose the drift of her companions'

-conversation, and when at length, home—a small house, one of a

-terrace—was reached, the shock she had received proved too much for

-her, and she fell insensible into her mother's arms.</p>

-

-<p>When Peggy regained consciousness, she found herself undressed and

-in bed. Everything was very quiet, but she was aware of some one's

-presence, and it was no surprise when soft lips met hers in a loving

-kiss, and her mother's voice said, "You are better, Peggy dear."</p>

-

-<p>Then she was gently raised in bed, and, to her astonishment, she found

-her shoulder was bandaged; but she was not in much pain now, so she

-took the bread and milk offered to her, and lay down again, feeling

-strangely weak and tired, and disinclined to talk.</p>

-

-<p>"Sleep if you can, darling," her mother said tenderly. "You will be

-much stronger to-morrow. The doctor has attended to your poor shoulder.

-Thank God you are not more seriously hurt!"</p>

-

-<p>"What is the time mother?" Peggy asked. "Have you had tea? I was so

-sorry about the buns. I dropped them, you know."</p>

-

-<p>"Did you? As if that mattered! No, we have not had tea. We have been

-too anxious about you to think of it. Now we shall have tea and supper

-together. It is nearly seven o'clock—not quite your usual bedtime, but

-never mind that to-night. Rest will do you good. I want you to sleep."</p>

-

-<p>"I am very tired," Peggy murmured, "but I haven't said my prayers,

-and my head feels so funny that I can't think. I will say my 'little

-prayer' to-night.' Then she repeated very slowly and softly:</p>

-

-<p class="poem">

-<br>"Holy Father, cheer our way<br>

-&nbsp;With Thy love's perpetual ray:<br>

-&nbsp;Grant us every closing day<br>

-&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Light at evening time."<br>

-<br>

-</p>

-

-<p>It was a pathetic prayer, coming as it did from the lips of one who

-lived in permanent darkness. But it had been one of the first Peggy had

-learnt and she had always been very fond of it, calling it her "little

-prayer." To-night her eyelids closed as she repeated the last line, and

-a few minutes later she had fallen asleep.</p>

-

-<p>Mrs. Pringle remained by the bedside some while longer, tears, which

-she had repressed till now, running down her cheeks, though her heart

-was full of gratitude to Him Who had spared her child's life. She was a

-most affectionate mother, devoted to both her children; but her little

-daughter, doubtless by reason of her affliction, was always her first

-care. She shuddered as she thought what might have been the result of

-the accident that afternoon, and pictured her darling trampled beneath

-the horses' hoofs.</p>

-

-<p>"God gave His angels charge over her," she murmured, as she bent her

-head once more, and kissed the little sleeper. Then she stole softly

-away, and went downstairs to the sitting-room where Billy his father

-were keeping each other company, both heavy-hearted, though the doctor

-had assured them there was no cause for alarm.</p>

-

-<p>"How is she now?" they asked, with one accord, as she entered the room.</p>

-

-<p>"Sleeping peacefully," she told them, a smile lighting up her pale,

-tearful countenance. "You may go and look at her; but please be very

-careful not to disturb her. I have every hope that she will be better

-after a good rest. We have much to thank God for this night!"</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>CONCERNING AUNT CAROLINE</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>WHEN Mr. Pringle and Billy returned to the sitting-room after having

-been upstairs to look at Peggy asleep so comfortably, they found that

-Mrs. Pringle, with the assistance of Sarah, the maid-of-all-work of the

-establishment, had prepared the long-delayed tea. Whilst the family sat

-down to the meal, Sarah, at her own suggestion, went to keep watch by

-the little sleeper; and a few minutes later there was a knock at the

-front door.</p>

-

-<p>"Go and see who's there, Billy," said Mr. Pringle. "I should not be

-surprised if it is Mr. Maloney," he proceeded, turning to his wife,

-"for he was very concerned about Peggy and said he hoped to look in

-by-and-by to hear the doctor's report."</p>

-

-<p>And Mr. Maloney the visitor proved to be. He accepted Mrs. Pringle's

-offer of a cup of tea, and took the chair Billy placed for him at the

-table.</p>

-

-<p>"I am glad to know the doctor thinks your little girl is not much

-hurt," he said in his pleasant voice. "Billy greeted me with the good

-news the moment he opened the door."</p>

-

-<p>"The only injury she has sustained is to her shoulder," replied Mr.

-Pringle, "but of course she has experienced a great shock. Her escape

-from a frightful death was quite providential," he added with a slight

-break in his voice.</p>

-

-<p>"Quite," Mr. Maloney agreed. "It was too bad of the owner of the

-carriage to drive on, as she did, without ascertaining the extent of

-the poor child's injuries," he continued warmly. "The least she could

-have done, under the circumstances, one would have thought, would have

-been to have driven her home."</p>

-

-<p>"She was a nasty old woman, I'm sure she was," declared Billy with

-flushing cheeks and sparkling eyes. "She told the policeman, he had

-better take Peggy to a hospital if she was hurt, and she said it was

-his business, not hers. She spoke in such a proud way—as though she

-didn't care for anything or any one."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, Peggy found a friend in need," Mr. Pringle remarked with a

-grateful glance at Mr. Maloney, who smiled and said he was glad to have

-been of service.</p>

-

-<p>The Vicar and the organist of St. John's were on terms of friendship,

-though the former was elderly and the latter not middle-aged. Mr.

-Maloney had lived most of his life in London. He was a hard worker,

-and much beloved by all who knew him. But some of his acquaintances

-declared him lacking in ambition, for on several occasions he had

-declined preferment, choosing to retain the living of St. John's, which

-he had held for more than twenty years. He was an unmarried man, and

-consequently the living, though a poor one, supplied his simple needs.</p>

-

-<p>He was getting an old man now, but the bright, unquenchable light of

-that enthusiasm which had made him a faithful labourer in Christ's

-vineyard all his days still shone in his earnest, deep-set eyes, and

-earnestness was stamped indelibly upon his countenance. And the truth

-was that his ambition soared far and away beyond the worldly meaning of

-the term: he was working for the "Well done" of the Master for Whose

-sake he had elected to live amongst those of little account in this

-world.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Pringle had been the organist of St. John's since his marriage ten

-years previously. He was a tall, fair man with a thoughtful face and

-clear blue eyes. Peggy much resembled him; whilst Billy took after his

-mother in appearance, being brown-haired and brown-eyed. The Pringles

-were a very united family, and theirs was a happy home though it was

-a rather poor one, and Mr. Pringle was glad to add to his salary by

-taking music pupils.</p>

-

-<p>"I did not see the owner of the carriage," Mr. Maloney remarked

-by-and-by, after they had discussed Peggy's accident at some length.

-"Why, dear me, how stupid of me!" he exclaimed, a sudden recollection

-crossing his mind. "I have her card in my pocket here! She gave it

-to the policeman, who, in his turn, gave it to me, thinking that you

-might be inclined to seek redress from her for poor Peggy's injuries, I

-believe. Let us see who the unsympathetic old lady is."</p>

-

-<p>He had produced the card by this time, and now handed it to Mrs.

-Pringle, who glanced at it, uttered a cry of astonishment, and grew

-very red.</p>

-

-<p>"You know her?" Mr. Maloney inquired.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," she replied in a low tone, "I do. I can understand that she

-evinced no interest—though she could not have known whose child Peggy

-was."</p>

-

-<p>She passed the card to her husband as she spoke.</p>

-

-<p>A brief silence followed, during which Billy, keenly observant, noticed

-that his mother was trembling, and that his father's face had grown

-very stern.</p>

-

-<p>"Who is the lady, father?" he ventured to ask at length.</p>

-

-<p>"She is called Miss Leighton," was the answer. "You never heard of her,

-Billy; but I expect you have?" he said, addressing Mr. Maloney.</p>

-

-<p>"I think not," the Vicar responded. "Is she a person of importance?"</p>

-

-<p>"She is a very rich woman. Her father was James Leighton, the great

-ironfounder who died so immensely wealthy—"</p>

-

-<p>"Ah, then I have heard of her," Mr. Maloney broke in. "But I thought

-she was quite a philanthropist—hardly the sort of woman who would act

-as this Miss Leighton did to-day."</p>

-

-<p>"That is exactly how she would act," Mrs. Pringle said decidedly. "We

-are speaking of the same person. She gives away vast amounts of money

-yearly to charities, but she denies herself nothing in order to do so,

-for she is very wealthy. She was never a woman who showed kindness in

-little ways or to individuals. I know her well; in fact, she is my

-aunt."</p>

-

-<p>"Really?" the Vicar said, looking intensely astonished. He knew the

-Pringles were not well off—that they lived solely on Mr. Pringle's

-earnings, and it seemed odd that so rich and charitable a lady as Miss

-Leighton should do so much for strangers and nothing for her relations.</p>

-

-<p>"The truth is, my wife offended her aunt by marrying me," Mr. Pringle

-explained, rightly reading the expression of Mr. Maloney's countenance;

-"and Miss Leighton never forgives any one who offends her."</p>

-

-<p>"Then God help her!" the Vicar exclaimed solemnly.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Pringle, sighing, "poor Aunt Caroline! She was very

-good to me years ago, she had me educated when my parents died, and

-afterwards she allowed me to live with her. She would have continued

-to provide for me, if I had not become engaged to John," glancing at

-her husband with a loving smile. "I had to choose between him and Aunt

-Caroline, and since my marriage I have never seen my aunt. 'She washed

-her hands of me,' she said, on my wedding day. She declared she would

-never willingly look on my face again, and I know she will keep her

-word."</p>

-

-<p>"You can realise now what sacrifices my wife has made for my sake," Mr.

-Pringle said, rather sadly, as he met Mr. Maloney's interested glance.</p>

-

-<p>"I have made no sacrifices," Mrs. Pringle returned quickly. "But,

-sometimes it grieves me to think of the bitter feelings Aunt Caroline

-harbours against me. She considers me ungrateful; I was never that. I

-do not want her money, but I should like to be on friendly terms with

-her. It was ten years ago I saw her; she must be getting an old woman."</p>

-

-<p>"She looked very old, mother," Billy said, and as he spoke, Mrs.

-Pringle started, for in the excitement of talking of her aunt, whom she

-rarely mentioned now even to her husband, she had forgotten the boy was

-present, listening to every word.</p>

-

-<p>"Her hair was quite white," he continued, "as white as snow. I didn't

-like her eyes, they were so very sharp. Oh, mother, how odd that she

-should be your aunt! And how surprised she would have been, if she had

-found out that Peggy was your little girl, wouldn't she? I expect she

-would have been sorry for her, then, don't you think so?"</p>

-

-<p>"I—I—perhaps so," his mother replied, "but she did not find out, and it

-was best as it was."</p>

-

-<p>She took up the card which her husband had laid on the table and tore

-it into little bits, which, upon rising, she threw into the fire.</p>

-

-<p>"There, we will talk no more of Aunt Caroline," she said. "Thinking of

-her always makes me unhappy, and I don't want to be that to-night, when

-I ought to be feeling nothing but thankfulness on Peggy's account."</p>

-

-<p>A short while later, Mr. Maloney took his departure, and, after that,

-Billy said good-night to his parents and went upstairs. He peeped into

-Peggy's room; but did not go in, for Sarah, who was still watching by

-the bedside, raised a warning finger when she caught sight of him in

-the doorway. She was to be relieved from her post very soon by her

-mistress, whose intention it was to sit up all night.</p>

-

-<p>Although Billy was really tired and was soon in bed, it was long before

-he could get to sleep, for he felt strangely restless and excited; he

-continually pictured the pair of high-stepping horses which had so

-nearly trodden his sister beneath their hoofs, and he was haunted by

-the proud face of the old lady who had appeared so unconcerned.</p>

-

-<p>"She must be very wicked," thought the little boy, "for father said she

-never forgives any one who offends her. How dreadful that is! Doesn't

-she know it's wrong, I wonder! And, oh, how strange that she should be

-mother's aunt! How surprised Peggy will be when she knows!"</p>

-

-<p>Then he forgot Miss Leighton in thinking of Peggy once more. He had not

-omitted to thank his Father in Heaven, as he had knelt by his bedside

-before getting into bed, for having spared his sister's life; but

-his full heart thanked Him again and again as he lay awake mentally

-reviewing the events of the last few hours, and he fell asleep, at

-length, with the fervent prayer upon his lips:</p>

-

-<p class="poem">

-<br>

-"Dear Jesus, please always take care of Peggy, and remember she is

-blind."<br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>A MONTH had elapsed since Peggy's accident, and the little girl, though

-about again, had not recovered her usual health and spirits. Her mother

-watched her with loving solicitude, noting how shattered her nerves

-seemed to be, for she started at any sudden sound and dreaded being

-left alone. The doctor pronounced her to be suffering from the effects

-of the shock to her nervous system, prescribed a complete change of

-air, and said time would work a cure.</p>

-

-<p>"How can we send her away for a change?" Mrs. Pringle asked her husband

-despairingly. "It is impossible."</p>

-

-<p>"I wish you could take her to the seaside for a few weeks, Margaret,"

-Mr. Pringle responded, looking much troubled. "But I really do not see

-how it can be managed—where the money is to come from, I mean."</p>

-

-<p>"Never mind, father," Peggy said quickly, "I am sure I shall be well

-soon. I am a lot better, really."</p>

-

-<p>"Do you feel so, darling?" he questioned, as he drew her towards him,

-and anxiously scrutinised her face.</p>

-

-<p>Then, as she assured him she did, he kissed her gently, an expression

-of deep pain and regret on his own countenance.</p>

-

-<p>It grieved Mr. Pringle that he could not afford his little daughter

-the change of air which the doctor had prescribed, and he went off to

-give a music lesson with a very heavy heart. When he returned, an hour

-later, upon opening the front door the sound of a man's hearty laugh

-fell upon his ears, and almost immediately Peggy, with a flush of

-excitement on her cheeks, came out of the sitting-room, her sensitive

-ears having warned her of his arrival, and whispered:</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, father, we've a visitor! Guess who it is. But, no, you never will,

-so I may as well tell you. It's Mr. Tiddy. You remember who he is,

-don't you? The Cornish gentleman who married Miss Bates."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Pringle, suddenly enlightened. Miss Bates had

-been a school friend of his wife's. The two had always corresponded

-regularly, though they had not met of late. Miss Bates had earned her

-living as a governess until five years previously, when she had married

-a well-to-do farmer in Cornwall.</p>

-

-<p>"He is a very nice man, father," Peggy continued, "and he's brought us

-a hamper full of all sorts of good things to eat—cream, and butter, and

-eggs, and a big cake, which his wife made herself, with a sugary top,

-and a couple of chickens! Do come and see him at once."</p>

-

-<p>Accordingly Mr. Pringle allowed his little daughter to lead him into

-the sitting-room, where the visitor was being entertained by Mrs.

-Pringle and Billy, and after a few minutes' conversation with him, he

-mentally agreed with Peggy that this new acquaintance was a very nice

-man.</p>

-

-<p>Ebenezer Tiddy was a thorough countryman in appearance, being clad

-in a tweed suit, and boots which had evidently been made to keep out

-inches deep of mud. He was tall and vigorous, with a ruddy, kindly

-countenance, and steady grey eyes which looked one straight in the

-face. He had entered the house a complete stranger half an hour before,

-but already the children were at their ease with him, and Mrs. Pringle

-was looking decidedly more cheerful than when her husband had left her

-after their conversation about the doctor's prescription. Mr. Pringle

-felt glad Mr. Tiddy had come, since his presence had evidently proved

-exhilarating.</p>

-

-<p>"I arrived in town last night," the visitor explained, "and the first

-thing this morning I said to myself, 'I'd better execute my wife's

-business before I attend to my own.' And now you're here, Mr. Pringle,

-I'll speak of the real object of my visit. Said my wife to me one day

-last week, 'Ebenezer, how I should like to have little Peggy Pringle

-to stay with us for a while! Her mother has written to me that she met

-with an accident and doesn't seem to pick up after it as she ought. I

-believe a change of air would be the best medicine for her now.'"</p>

-

-<p>Here Mr. Tiddy paused, and looked at Peggy, who, sensitive like all

-blind people, was fully conscious of his gaze.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Mr. Tiddy!" she exclaimed. "And—what did you say?"</p>

-

-<p>"That she'd better write and invite you to visit us at once, my dear,

-believing, as I do, that Cornish breezes and Cornish living would

-make you strong in no time. 'But she can't travel alone,' said my

-wife, who is quicker of thought than I am, 'and how are we to get her

-here, Ebenezer?' 'That can be easily managed,' I replied; 'when I go

-to London next week to interview the florist who is going to buy our

-flowers this spring, I'll ask her parents to trust her to me.' And

-if they will," concluded Mr. Tiddy, looking smilingly first at Mrs.

-Pringle, then at her husband, "I am sure I shall be very pleased and

-proud, and my wife and myself will do our best to make her visit a

-happy one. The little maid won't have any children for playmates, but

-I don't think she'll be dull, for there's always something or other to

-interest folks at a farm, and I need hardly say we'll take good care of

-her."</p>

-

-<p>"How kind you are!" Mrs. Pringle exclaimed, her face alight with

-pleasure, "Peggy does indeed need a change very badly, and we have been

-bemoaning the fact that we could not give her one. I am sure she would

-be quite happy with you and your wife."</p>

-

-<p>"I remember Miss Bates," said Peggy. "She stayed with us once when I

-was a little girl."</p>

-

-<p>"And what are you now, pray?" asked Mr. Tiddy, highly amused. "A big

-girl, eh?"</p>

-

-<p>"I am nine years old," she answered, in a dignified tone. "But I am not

-very tall for my age."</p>

-

-<p>"Cornish air will make you grow. Will you make up your mind, then, to

-travel westwards with me? Would your brother care to come too?"</p>

-

-<p>"Billy goes to school, and it is the middle of the term," Mrs. Pringle

-explained; "being Saturday, it is the weekly holiday: that is why you

-find him at home now. You are very kind to give him an invitation, but

-he knows he must not neglect his work."</p>

-

-<p>"He must pay us a visit in his summer holidays, then," said Mr. Tiddy,

-sympathising with the disappointment he read in the little boy's face.

-"I shall not forget. And now, Mrs. Pringle, do you think you can part

-with your little maid on Tuesday? I hope to return to Cornwall as soon

-as that. I only require one clear day in town to transact my business."</p>

-

-<p>"Peggy can be ready by Tuesday," Mrs. Pringle answered, after a few

-moments' reflection, whilst Peggy herself felt quite bewildered by the

-suddenness with which everything was being arranged.</p>

-

-<p>"Come and spend to-morrow with us," suggested Mr. Pringle hospitably,

-"that is, if you have made no previous engagement."</p>

-

-<p>"I have not. Thank you, I shall be delighted to come," answered Mr.

-Tiddy, his countenance beaming with pleasure. "I have heard so much of

-you all from my wife that I can't fancy you were strangers to me till

-this last hour."</p>

-

-<p>When at length he took his departure, which was after a little further

-conversation, he seemed quite an old friend, and the children were

-pleased and excited at the prospect of his visit on the morrow.</p>

-

-<p>"It is as though a load has been lifted off my shoulders," Mr. Pringle

-confessed, as he returned to the sitting-room after having said

-good-bye to Mr. Tiddy at the front door. He sat down in an arm-chair

-as he spoke, and his little daughter took a stool at his feet and

-rested her golden head against his knee. "It seems so marvellous this

-invitation should have come for Peggy just at this very time," he

-proceeded earnestly, "when it seemed utterly impossible to carry out

-the doctor's prescription. Surely God must have prompted Mr. Tiddy to

-come to us to-day."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, and there's no one I would so gladly entrust Peggy to as my old

-friend," Mrs. Pringle answered contentedly. "You're pleased you're

-going, are you not, Peggy?" she questioned, noticing a faint shadow on

-her little daughter's face.</p>

-

-<p>"Y-e-s," was the response, given a trifle doubtfully. The thought of

-a visit to Cornwall had filled Peggy with a transport of delight at

-first; but now, she had had time to reflect that she would have no

-mother and father and Billy with her, and she had never been parted

-from them before. "I shall miss you all so much," she murmured with

-quivering lips, "and Cornwall is so far away."</p>

-

-<p>"We shall miss you, little Sunbeam," her father assured her as he

-softly stroked her curly hair, "but we are glad you are going, because

-we want you to get well and strong. I believe you will have a most

-enjoyable time, and, of one thing I am quite certain, that both Mr. and

-Mrs. Tiddy will be kindness itself. I only hope they won't spoil you

-and want to keep you altogether."</p>

-

-<p>"I shouldn't stay, if they did," Peggy returned, half indignant at the

-suggestion. "And—and I'm beginning to wish I wasn't going at all."</p>

-

-<p>She lay awake a long while that night, crying at the thought of the

-coming separation from her family, but she did not admit it the next

-morning.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Tiddy spent Sunday with his new friends as had been arranged, and

-in the evening he accompanied them to St. John's. After the service, he

-waited with Mrs. Pringle and the children to hear the voluntary. It was

-"The Heavens are telling," which Mr. Pringle played at his visitor's

-request.</p>

-

-<p>"Did you like it, Mr. Tiddy?" Peggy whispered at the conclusion of the

-piece as they passed out of the church.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, I liked it," he answered earnestly. "Your father plays the organ

-beautifully. 'The Heavens are telling the glory of God!' So they do,

-don't they?" They were in the street by now, Peggy's hand in the firm

-clasp of her new friend. "I can't tell how folks can prefer to live in

-town," he proceeded. "Give me the country and plenty of fresh air. Ah,

-my dear, I'll show you some rare sights in Cornwall—"</p>

-

-<p>"You forget," interposed Peggy, "I cannot see."</p>

-

-<p>"Poor dear!" he said softly. "How thoughtless of me to forget!"</p>

-

-<p>"Does it seem to you very dreadful to be blind?" she asked, catching

-the tone of tender sympathy in his deep voice.</p>

-

-<p>Then, as he hesitated what answer to make, she continued:</p>

-

-<p>"You know, I shall never see as long as I live, but I think I shall get

-on very well. Mother says I am very useful in the house. I am learning

-to do lots of things—to play the piano and to knit, and father says, if

-he had more money—Oh, here are the others!" And she suddenly broke off.</p>

-

-<p>That was the first occasion on which Peggy had been to church since her

-accident. Her mother had been doubtful about taking her to-night, and

-had wanted to leave her at home with Sarah for her companion. But the

-little girl had begged to be allowed to go, and had gained her own way,

-and the service had had a beneficial effect upon her, having soothed

-her nerves instead of having excited them. She slept well that night,

-and the next day was spent in making preparations for her visit, and

-passed so busily that when bedtime came again, she was too weary to lie

-awake thinking of the parting from all those who made up her little

-world, which was so near at hand.</p>

-

-<p>She was called early on the following morning, and after breakfast—of

-which she partook but little—and a somewhat tearful good-bye to Billy

-and Sarah, she drove off in a cab with her parents to Paddington

-railway station, where she was consigned to the care of Mr. Tiddy, who

-had already selected a comfortable carriage and procured a foot-warmer

-for his little charge.</p>

-

-<p>"Good-bye, Peggy, darling," whispered her mother, as the guard bustled

-by requesting people to take their places. "God bless and protect you,

-dear."</p>

-

-<p>"Good-bye, little Sunbeam," said her father cheerily, as he lifted her

-into the carriage and wrapped her up in a rug. "We shall expect you to

-come back well and strong."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," murmured Peggy, bravely smiling. "Good-bye—oh, good-bye!"</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>ON a certain bright March morning, Mrs. Tiddy stood beneath the

-creeper-covered porch at the front door of Lower Brimley Farm, waiting

-for her husband, who had been up and out-of-doors since daybreak, to

-return to breakfast. Mr. Tiddy had arrived home from London on the

-previous evening, having brought Peggy Pringle with him. But the little

-girl, over-tired as the result of the long journey, had been sleeping

-firmly when her hostess had visited her bedroom half an hour before,

-and orders had been given that she was not to be awakened.</p>

-

-<p>The mistress of Lower Brimley was a small-sized woman with a trim

-figure and a pleasant countenance, which wore a very contented

-expression at the present moment. The view over which Mrs. Tiddy's blue

-eyes wandered admiringly was a most beautiful one, for Lower Brimley

-was situated on the slope of a hill, not ten minutes' walk from the sea

-and the small fishing village which straggled in one steep street from

-the beach to the old grey church on the cliff.</p>

-

-<p>The soft air was sweet with the scent of flowers on this sunny spring

-morning, for the land close by was given up to the cultivation of

-daffodils and narcissi of nearly every species, which flourished in the

-rich moist soil and were now in full bloom, and the garden in front of

-the house was a fine show, too, with violets, hyacinths, and purple

-and scarlet anemones, against a background of rhododendron bushes. In

-short, there was a wealth of flowers everywhere; and as Mrs. Tiddy's

-contemplative gaze roamed over her own domain to the distant sea,

-glimmering like silver in the bright sunshine, it was caught and held

-by the golden furze on the cliffs, and she murmured admiringly:</p>

-

-<p>"What a glorious sight! And to think that that dear child will never

-know how beautiful it all is! How sad to be blind!"</p>

-

-<p>An expression of deep regret crossed Mrs. Tiddy's face as she thought

-of her little visitor; but it gave place to a bright smile as she

-caught sight of her husband approaching. And she ran down the path

-to the garden gate to meet him, anxious to hear that he had found

-everything on the farm in good order. She was soon satisfied upon

-that point, for he was in high spirits, and complimented her upon

-her management during his absence. And then they went into the

-house together, and sat down to breakfast in the parlour, a large

-comfortably-furnished room, the windows of which commanded a view of

-the village and the sea.</p>

-

-<p>"And how is my fellow-traveller?" Mr. Tiddy inquired by-and-by.</p>

-

-<p>"She was sleeping firmly half an hour ago and I have given orders that

-she is not to be disturbed," his wife-responded. "She was so very tired

-last night, and I fancy she felt home-sick—poor little soul! She has

-never been away from her own people before, you see, and oh, Ebenezer,

-think how helpless one must feel to be always in darkness!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," he agreed, "but though she has been denied sight, her other

-senses seem preternaturally keen. It's always the way with blind

-people, I've heard. And—why, here she comes!"</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Tiddy rose as the door opened, and Peggy stood hesitating upon the

-threshold of the room. Going to her side, he gave her a hearty kiss,

-inquired how she was this morning, and, having been assured that she

-was quite well, led her to his wife.</p>

-

-<p>"I thought you were still in bed and asleep, my dear child," said Mrs.

-Tiddy, her voice expressing the surprise she felt.</p>

-

-<p>"I woke up, and I was afraid I was late for breakfast, so I dressed as

-quickly as I could and came down," Peggy explained, as she returned

-Mrs. Tiddy's kiss and took the chair by her side.</p>

-

-<p>"How clever of you to find your way alone!"</p>

-

-<p>"Clever!" laughed Peggy. "You forget I had my supper in this room last

-night, and I heard your voices as I came downstairs. What a lovely

-morning, isn't it? I smelt violets and hyacinths when I opened my

-bedroom window, and I heard the sea."</p>

-

-<p>"The sea is very calm to-day, almost as still as a mill-pond," remarked

-Mr. Tiddy somewhat dubiously. "You must have very sharp ears, if you

-heard it."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, but I did," persisted Peggy. "The waves were whispering ever so

-softly, but I heard them. I was never at the seaside but once before,

-when we all went to Bournemouth for a week, nearly two years ago."</p>

-

-<p>The little girl was looking very bright this morning, and she did full

-justice to the fried bacon and chopped potatoes to which Mr. Tiddy

-helped her, remarking, as he did so, that he hoped she could enjoy

-country fare. And at the conclusion of the meal, he suggested that she

-should put on her hat and jacket and go for a stroll with him about the

-farm, whilst his wife attended to her domestic duties in the house.</p>

-

-<p>Accordingly, Peggy accompanied her host out into the brilliant spring

-sunshine, and asked him numerous questions about his flowers. He

-explained all about their cultivation, and watched her with keenly

-interested eyes as she felt the various blooms with her sensitive

-fingers.</p>

-

-<p>"I shall remember all you have told me," she declared. "This is a

-'Princess Mary,' is it not? And this is the daffodil you said the

-country people call 'butter and eggs'?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "But how can you possibly tell?"</p>

-

-<p>"I can feel the difference, Mr. Tiddy, and I can smell. It seems to me

-all these daffodils have different scents."</p>

-

-<p>"To me, they are alike," he admitted, "but I suppose they are not.

-Really, Peggy, you are a very clever little girl."</p>

-

-<p>When they returned to the house they went by the back way, where,

-in the yard, they were met by a big, black-and-white smooth-haired

-sheep-dog, who sniffed at Peggy suspiciously at first. But when she

-ventured to extend her hand to him, he licked it with his great pink

-tongue, whilst a very soft expression crept into his amber eyes.</p>

-

-<p>"He likes you, my dear," Mr. Tiddy said. "And he does not take to every

-one, let me tell you. He evidently intends to regard you as a friend."</p>

-

-<p>"What is his name?" Peggy inquired, as she passed her hand over the

-dog's sleek head.</p>

-

-<p>"Wolf. We gave him the name when he was a puppy, because he was such a

-lean, fierce-looking creature. He is a splendid house-dog; but he is

-not very sociable, as a rule. He seems to have taken a fancy to you,

-however."</p>

-

-<p>"He knows I like him," Peggy said, as she caressed her new

-acquaintance, who continued to wag his tail amicably. "What a tall dog

-he is! Wolf—dear old Wolf!"</p>

-

-<p>The animal gave a delighted cry, and Mr. Tiddy nodded his head

-approvingly.</p>

-

-<p>"I'm glad he's taken to you," he said. "For you couldn't get a better

-protector than Wolf."</p>

-

-<p>Peggy never forgot that first day at Lower Brimley. The afternoon she

-passed quietly in the house with Mrs. Tiddy, who wrote a long letter to

-her old school fellow in which were many messages from Peggy.</p>

-

-<p>"Tell her how much I miss them all," said the little girl. "But please

-say, too, that I am sure I shall be very happy here, because every one

-is so kind to me, and it is a lovely, lovely place! And, please don't

-forget to send my dear love!" And for a few minutes, her blue eyes were

-full of tears.</p>

-

-<p>"Peggy," said Mrs. Tiddy by-and-by, "I have heard all the details in

-connection with your accident from my husband, and I do not wonder it

-was a shock to your nerves. Is your shoulder quite well now, dear?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, yes, Mrs. Tiddy. It got well very quickly. Every one said it was

-a wonder I was not killed; but I think myself God took especial care

-of me, because He knew I wasn't quite like other people—not being able

-to see, you know. Mr. Maloney—that's the Vicar of St. John's—thinks so

-too. Wasn't it strange that it should have been mother's aunt who was

-in the carriage?"</p>

-

-<p>"Very. Your mother never sees her Aunt Caroline, does she?"</p>

-

-<p>"Never. Do you know her, Mrs. Tiddy?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, though, of course, I have heard a good bit about her from your

-mother."</p>

-

-<p>"Billy and I never heard of her at all till my accident. I don't think

-she can be nice; and Billy said she looked very proud. I heard her

-speak, but I was too frightened then to take much notice of her voice.

-I always tell what people are like by their voices."</p>

-

-<p>"Do you, my dear?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Peggy nodded. "I knew Mr. Tiddy was good and kind, the moment I

-heard him speak: I felt I could trust him. Do you know, I quite enjoyed

-the journey yesterday, after we had properly started. Of course, I

-didn't like saying good-bye to mother and father. I had never been in a

-corridor-train before, and we had dinner at a big table just as though

-we were in a proper room, and there was a kitchen on the train, and

-cooks. Oh, how Billy would have liked to have been there! What a lot I

-shall have to tell him when I go home! Oh, Mrs. Tiddy, it was kind of

-you to think of inviting me to stay with you!"</p>

-

-<p>"I am sure your visit will be a great pleasure to me, my dear," Mrs.

-Tiddy replied cordially. "And I shall be well content, if I can send

-you home with roses in your cheeks. To-morrow I will take you into the

-village and down to the beach; but I must not let you do too much on

-your first day. There, I have finished my letter, and can now have an

-idle hour before tea."</p>

-

-<p>She put aside her writing materials as she spoke, and went to the

-window, where Peggy was seated, listening to the sparrows twittering

-beneath the eaves of the roof and the sound of children's voices wafted

-upwards from the village below.</p>

-

-<p>"You and Mr. Tiddy are so very kind to take so much trouble to explain

-everything to me," the little girl said, with a grateful ring in her

-sweet, clear voice, "that I am already beginning to know this place

-quite well—the house and the grounds, too."</p>

-

-<p>"Shall I tell you what I see from this window?" asked Mrs. Tiddy.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, please!" Peggy answered delightedly. Then as her kind hostess

-did so, she listened with attention, her face aglow with interest and

-pleasure. "How well you make me understand!" she cried, as Mrs. Tiddy

-ceased speaking. She leaned her head out of the open window and sniffed

-the fresh salt breeze appreciatively, and listened to the murmur of the

-sea. It seemed a very beautiful world to Peggy in spite of her lack of

-sight.</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>IN a very few days, Peggy had settled into the routine of life at Lower

-Brimley, and had become well known by sight to the villagers, who took

-a kindly interest in Mrs. Tiddy's guest—"the pretty little maid," as

-they called her, who, though she was blind, could play the piano, so

-the servants at the farm reported, and was so clever that wherever she

-went once she could go by herself a second time.</p>

-

-<p>Accompanied by the lean, long-legged sheep-dog, she was now a familiar

-figure on the beach, where she would sit for hours, listening to the

-incessant murmur of the sea or talking to the fishermen, whose deep

-voices insensibly softened in addressing her. For nowhere so much as in

-Cornwall is more respect shown to those whom God has afflicted; and,

-though Peggy knew it not, she was continually watched by friendly eyes

-to see that she came to no harm.</p>

-

-<p>Mrs. Tiddy, who had been nervous about letting her visitor wander out

-of her sight at first, soon grew less vigilant, and was quite satisfied

-if she knew Wolf was with her, for the dog had constituted himself

-her faithful companion, and showed marked signs of jealousy, if any

-stranger came near her.</p>

-

-<p>One afternoon, about a week after her arrival at Lower Brimley, Peggy

-was standing in a gateway waiting for Mr. Tiddy, who had gone across

-a meadow to look at some sheep, when Wolf, as usual at her side, gave

-a low, warning growl and drew closer to her. She put her hand on the

-dog's collar and listened, hearing at length the sound of footsteps

-slowly approaching. Some one was evidently ascending the hill which led

-from the village to the farm.</p>

-

-<p>After that one growl, Wolf remained silent, and Peggy did not move as

-the footsteps drew near. But when they suddenly stopped, the little

-girl, still holding the dog by the collar, turned her face, with an

-inquiring expression upon it, towards the spot where she knew some

-one—a woman, she thought, from the sound of the footsteps—to be.</p>

-

-<p>"Can you tell me, if this is the way to Lower Brimley Farm?" asked a

-somewhat patronising voice—the voice of a lady, Peggy's sharp ears

-informed her at once.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," the little girl answered. "You will come within sight of the

-house, I know, when you turn the next corner. Are you going to call on

-Mrs. Tiddy? Perhaps you are a friend of hers? She is not at home; she

-has driven in to Penzance."</p>

-

-<p>"And I have driven from Penzance. But I have no acquaintance with Mrs.

-Tiddy—the mistress at the farm, I presume? I have no desire to see

-her, but I want to have a look at her flowers. I am told the daffodils

-and narcissi at Lower Brimley are especially fine. People talk so much

-nowadays of the flower-farms of Cornwall that I am curious to see one."</p>

-

-<p>The speaker—a tall, thin, erect old lady, with snow-white hair and

-very sharp dark eyes, looked carelessly at the child, and proceeded to

-question her: "Do you live here? Are you the farmer's daughter?"</p>

-

-<p>"No; I am no relation to either Mr. or Mrs. Tiddy, although they are

-so very kind to me," Peggy answered simply. "My home is in London;

-I am only here on a visit. I am sure Mr. Tiddy will let you look at

-his flowers; he is very proud of them, and no wonder, for they are so

-beautiful! He has gone across the meadow, but he will return directly.

-Perhaps you can see him?"</p>

-

-<p>"Do you mean that big man in breeches and leggings?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, that's Mr. Tiddy. I promised to wait here with Wolf—that's the

-dog—till he came back. Is he far off? Is he coming this way?"</p>

-

-<p>"Cannot you use your eyes, child?" began the lady, a trifle

-impatiently. Then she paused abruptly, and scanned the little girl's

-face with keener scrutiny.</p>

-

-<p>"I cannot see," Peggy responded, "because I am blind."</p>

-

-<p>"Blind! How shocking!"</p>

-

-<p>The stranger's voice had softened perceptibly, and sounded no longer

-indifferent. Peggy, conscious of the change, smiled, and a faint colour

-rose to her pale cheeks as she remarked:</p>

-

-<p>"Every one is surprised to hear I am blind, but it is quite true."</p>

-

-<p>"And have you been blind long?"</p>

-

-<p>"All my life."</p>

-

-<p>"And yet you look happy!" was the wondering exclamation.</p>

-

-<p>"I am very happy. Mother says I must always remember how many blessings

-God has given me, and so I do. Oh, here is Mr. Tiddy!" the little girl

-cried, with a sudden change of tone.</p>

-

-<p>The farmer came up, glancing curiously at Peggy's companion, who now

-put forward a request—it sounded almost like a command—to see his

-flowers, adding that she had come from Penzance on purpose to look at

-them, and had left her carriage at the foot of the hill.</p>

-

-<p>"You are just in time to see them at their best," Mr. Tiddy told her

-pleasantly. "In another week, I shall have cut them all: we rear them

-for the London markets. Lead the way, Peggy. A little friend of ours

-from town," he explained, lowering his voice as the child and the dog

-went on ahead. "She's been laid up ill and hasn't picked up her health

-and spirits yet. We're trying what our Cornish air will do for her."</p>

-

-<p>"I trust it will do wonders," said the lady, and her voice, though

-still cold in tone, was not ungracious. "She looks a delicate child,

-and she tells me, she is blind."</p>

-

-<p>"Ah, yes, poor dear," sighed Mr. Tiddy. "Though I don't know why I

-should pity her," he proceeded, "for she's as happy as the day is

-long. Her father—he's the organist of St. John's in the East End of

-London—calls her 'little Sunbeam,' and the name just suits her. Her

-mother and my wife were school friends, and—but here we are!"</p>

-

-<p>The stranger was evidently much gratified by the sight of the flowers,

-and she was greatly impressed by the knowledge Peggy evinced concerning

-them. And the more she conversed with Mr. Tiddy, the more gracious her

-manner became, till by-and-by she asked him if there were comfortable

-lodgings to be had in the neighbourhood.</p>

-

-<p>"There's a farm higher up the hill, the adjoining farm to this, Higher

-Brimley it's called—where they let apartments during the summer

-months," he replied. "I expect they'd consider themselves fortunate, if

-they obtained a lodger as early in the year as this. Ford, the people

-are called, and Mrs. Ford is a nice, respectable woman who'd make you

-very comfortable."</p>

-

-<p>"You never take lodgers here?" the stranger inquired hesitatingly.</p>

-

-<p>"Never," was the decisive answer. "My wife has plenty of work to do in

-connection with the poultry and the dairy, and—to be plain—we like our

-home to ourselves."</p>

-

-<p>When the lady had gazed her fill at the daffodils, Mr. Tiddy led the

-way into the garden, which she declared to be her idea of what a

-country garden should be. The kindly farmer, pleased at her admiration

-for his belongings, thereupon invited her into the house, and had tea

-brought into the parlour. "I wish my wife was at home," he observed

-regretfully, "but Peggy must play hostess in her place."</p>

-

-<p>"And a very nice little hostess she makes," replied the old lady, her

-curious gaze upon the child, who was offering her some of Mrs. Tiddy's

-home-made cake. "Do you always treat strangers as you are treating me?"

-she inquired, turning to Mr. Tiddy again. "I have heard of Cornish

-hospitality, but I never believed in it till now. You don't know

-anything about me—" She paused and laughed rather bitterly, then added:

-"Most people would not think it worth while to entertain a stranger—one

-never likely to cross their path in life again."</p>

-

-<p>"Then you do not mean to seek lodgings in the district?" Mr. Tiddy

-asked gravely.</p>

-

-<p>"I have not made up my mind on that point yet. I almost think I could

-be contented in a spot like this."</p>

-

-<p>Having finished her tea, she rose and prepared to depart. Mr. Tiddy now

-noted for the first time, how costly was her dress—evidently she was a

-woman rich in this world's goods—and he thought as he glanced at the

-deep lines of discontent around her hard mouth, that, in spite of her

-undeniably handsome face, she was the most ill-tempered looking old

-lady he had seen for many a long day, and doubted much if she would be

-contented anywhere.</p>

-

-<p>"Good-bye, child," she said stretching out her delicately-gloved hand

-to Peggy. "It is quite possible that we may meet again."</p>

-

-<p>"If we do, I shall remember you," was the grave response. "I shall

-remember you by your voice. And I can't help thinking that somewhere

-we have met before, or perhaps it is only that you remind me of some

-one—that must be it."</p>

-

-<p>The lady looked at Peggy searchingly, and shook her head. Then she went

-away, leaving the little girl in a very thoughtful frame of mind. When

-Mr. Tiddy returned, after having accompanied the stranger down the hill

-and placed her in the hired carriage in which she had been driven from

-Penzance, he asked Peggy what she thought of their late visitor.</p>

-

-<p>"She seemed rather unhappy, didn't she, Mr. Tiddy?" she questioned.</p>

-

-<p>"Unhappy?" he said, reflectively. "I don't know about that. To me she

-appeared simply discontented. She is a selfish woman, I'll be bound—so

-maybe you're right, my dear, for selfish folk are never happy—and

-wrapped up in her own concerns. But she liked my daffodils, didn't she?

-I could see she had a real love for flowers. And she was interested in

-you, too. One mustn't judge by appearances altogether—"</p>

-

-<p>"I judge by her voice," said Peggy, as he broke off, leaving his

-sentence unfinished.</p>

-

-<p>"A hard, cold voice, wasn't it?" questioned Mr. Tiddy.</p>

-

-<p>"Y-e-s. Was she very old, Mr. Tiddy?"</p>

-

-<p>"Over seventy, I should say."</p>

-

-<p>"That's a great age, isn't it? I wonder if she is always alone like she

-was to-day. Perhaps she has no one to love and care for her now she

-is old. How sad that must be! Poor old lady!" And there was deepest

-sympathy in her tone.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Tiddy looked at the speaker with a tender smile; but he did not

-think it worth while to say that, to him, their visitor had appeared

-anything but poor. Perhaps, he reflected, the child might be right

-after all, for he knew how often those rich in worldly possessions are

-poor in heart.</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>MISS LEIGHTON'S DISCOVERY</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>THE daffodil blooms had all been gathered; March had given place

-to April; and, day by day, Peggy was improving in health, whilst

-roses—faint as yet, it is true—were appearing in her cheeks. The

-doctor's prescription of a change of air was evidently what she had

-needed; and Mrs. Tiddy was much gratified at being able to write most

-cheering reports of her visitor's condition to Mrs. Pringle, who read

-them aloud to her husband and Billy with deep thankfulness in her heart.</p>

-

-<p>"How we shall miss the child when she leaves us!" Mr. Tiddy remarked to

-his wife one evening, as they strolled up and down the path in front

-of the house when the work of the day was over, listening to the music

-which Peggy's fingers were drawing from the piano in the parlour. The

-little girl was naturally musical and had been well taught by her

-father, who had often told her that if she worked hard and practised

-industriously, she might become a real musician some day, and to be a

-real musician was her most earnest desire.</p>

-

-<p>"But she is not going to leave us for a long while yet," Mrs. Tiddy

-responded. "I have written and told her mother that she must spare

-her to us for another month, at least, and I think she will be glad

-to let her stay, as her health is benefiting so much by our Cornish

-air. By the way, Ebenezer, have you heard that there are lodgers at

-Higher Brimley? No? An elderly lady and her maid have taken Mrs. Ford's

-apartments. They were pointed out to me in the village this afternoon

-when Peggy and I were returning from the beach. And Peggy says she is

-sure the lady is the one who came from Penzance on purpose to look at

-our flowers. She is a tall, thin, old lady with quite white hair."</p>

-

-<p>"You don't say so!" exclaimed the farmer. "I told her she could get

-apartments at Higher Brimley, but I did not think she really meant to

-see about them. Did she speak to Peggy?"</p>

-

-<p>"No; she did not see her, for we were in the post office when she

-passed with her maid. Peggy recognised her by her voice."</p>

-

-<p>"I wonder who she is. You did not hear her name, I suppose?"</p>

-

-<p>"No. Listen! The child is singing!"</p>

-

-<p>They stood silently by the open window of the parlour and listened as

-the little girl's voice, low and sweet in tone, rang out clearly and

-softly:</p>

-

-<p class="poem">

-<br>"Holy Father, cheer our way<br>

-&nbsp;With Thy love's perpetual ray:<br>

-&nbsp;Grant us every closing day<br>

-&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Light at evening time."<br>

-<br>

-</p>

-

-<p>"Dear child," murmured Mrs. Tiddy, tears springing involuntarily to her

-eyes, "it does seem hard lines that one naturally so bright and joyous

-should be blind! But there, God knows best, and I suppose He has denied

-her sight for some good reason; and she has His love to cheer her way,

-I'm certain."</p>

-

-<p>"I think there's light in her heart," said Mr. Tiddy simply, and his

-wife agreed.</p>

-

-<p>It was on the following morning that Peggy, who had wandered down to

-the beach with Wolf in attendance, met the lodgers from Higher Brimley.

-The old lady spoke to the little girl, and inquired if she remembered

-her. And, receiving an answer in the affirmative, she dismissed her

-maid, telling her to wait within sight, and requested Peggy to sit down

-by her side on an upturned boat, and talk to her for a while.</p>

-

-<p>Peggy complied readily, for she was of a very sociable disposition,

-and commenced the conversation by informing her companion that she had

-recognised her voice when she had heard it on the previous day.</p>

-

-<p>"I was in the post office with Mrs. Tiddy when you passed," she said,

-"and you were talking. We were told you had taken Mrs. Ford's rooms."</p>

-

-<p>"I do not know how long I shall remain there-perhaps only a few days,

-perhaps longer. I suppose the daffodils are all gone now?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Peggy nodded regretfully; "but there are more flowers than ever

-in the garden, and those will not be cut. Mr. Tiddy grows them for

-himself and his friends; but the daffodils and narcissi, he sells."</p>

-

-<p>"You are looking better than when I saw you before," observed the

-stranger. "I suppose you will be going home soon?"</p>

-

-<p>"Not for some weeks yet. Oh, yes, I am a lot better! I feel really

-well; and Mrs. Tiddy says I am getting quite rosy and sunburnt. I am so

-glad, because they will be pleased at home."</p>

-

-<p>"Are you one of a long family?"</p>

-

-<p>"No. I have only one brother—Billy. Father is the organist of St.

-John's, but I do not expect you know the church. Mr. Maloney is our

-Vicar. He's a great friend of ours. I'm sure you'd like him, because

-he's such a good man. Mother says he's very clever, and people come a

-long distance often to hear him preach, so I suppose he must be."</p>

-

-<p>"I think I've heard of him," said the old lady thoughtfully. "He gives

-up his life to working amongst the poor, does he not?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. Nearly every one in our parish is poor. Mr. Maloney is, I

-believe, and we are, you know, because father's salary isn't much,

-and his music pupils don't pay him as they ought. But father is very

-clever, too, and some day I dare say we shall be better off. Father

-composes music, and there are very few people who can do that," the

-little girl said, with a ring of affectionate pride in her voice. "Do

-you live in London, too?" she inquired, thinking it was her turn to ask

-a question now.</p>

-

-<p>"I have a house in town. Will you come and spend a day with me there

-when we both go back to our own homes?"</p>

-

-<p>"I—I hardly know," Peggy replied doubtfully, flushing with surprise.

-"It's very kind of you to invite me; but I must ask mother. I don't

-know who you are, and—"</p>

-

-<p>"And I don't know who you are, either! Suppose you tell me your name?"</p>

-

-<p>"It is Margaret Pringle; but I am always called Peggy, because father

-calls mother Margaret."</p>

-

-<p>"Pringle!" exclaimed the old lady, growing suddenly crimson. She looked

-almost angrily at Peggy as she spoke, but of course the little girl was

-unconscious of that fact, though she caught the sound of agitation in

-her voice. "Pringle!" she repeated. "Is it possible? Tell me, is your

-father's name John?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. You have heard of him?" Since her companion had evinced some

-knowledge of the Vicar of St. John's, it did not occur to Peggy as at

-all unlikely that she should know something of the organist too. "He

-plays most beautifully," she continued impressively. "Mr. Tiddy will

-tell you so, for he heard him one Sunday evening when he went to church

-with us. It was the first time I had been to church after my accident.

-Oh, I haven't told you about that! I was knocked down when I was out

-with Billy, and it was a great wonder that I was not killed!"</p>

-

-<p>And she recounted the story of her adventure at some length, utterly

-unconscious of the effect it was having upon her listener, who had lost

-all her colour again now, and was looking paler than before.</p>

-

-<p>"The—the person in the carriage would not have understood that you were

-blind," the old lady remarked at length, subsequent to a long pause

-which had followed the conclusion of Peggy's tale.</p>

-

-<p>"No, of course not," the little girl agreed, "but Mr. Maloney says

-the least she could have done would have been to have driven me home.

-Billy thinks she didn't care, if I was hurt or not. And—isn't it

-strange?—she's supposed to be a very charitable person!"</p>

-

-<p>"Then you know who she is?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, yes! She gave the policeman her card, and mother used to know her

-quite well—years ago."</p>

-

-<p>"Ah!"</p>

-

-<p>"I—I am afraid I have been talking too much," Peggy said hesitatingly,

-with a sudden touch of reserve in her tone as she became aware that she

-had let her tongue run away with her. She hoped she had not wearied her

-companion with her chatter.</p>

-

-<p>"Why did you say she—the person in the carriage, I mean—is supposed to

-be very charitable?" asked the old lady presently.</p>

-

-<p>"Because she gives away heaps and heaps of money," was the prompt reply.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, that is very generous of her, is it not?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. But I don't think she can be really charitable, if she isn't kind

-in little ways and if she's unforgiving. I asked Mr. Maloney what he

-thought."</p>

-

-<p>"Well? What did he say?"</p>

-

-<p>"He repeated that verse in the Corinthians, 'Though I bestow all my

-goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and

-have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.' He didn't say anything but

-that; but I know what he meant, don't you? But, don't let us talk about

-her any more—I am not sure that I ought to have spoken of her at all."</p>

-

-<p>"You have done no harm. So that accident was actually the cause of your

-illness?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes. And just when the doctor said I must have a change of air, Mr.

-Tiddy arrived and invited me here. Wasn't it kind of him, and of Mrs.

-Tiddy too? You know I couldn't possibly have had a change but for them,

-for father couldn't have managed it, and it made him so dreadfully

-unhappy that he couldn't. Both he and mother were so worried about me."</p>

-

-<p>Soon after that the old lady rose, remarking that she found the wind a

-trifle chilly. She said good-bye to Peggy and joined her maid with the

-intention of returning to her lodgings. Left alone, the little girl

-reflected that her late companion had been decidedly less affable at

-the conclusion of their conversation, than at the commencement, and

-wondered why that had been. Had she unwittingly said anything to cause

-her annoyance? She felt puzzled and uneasy; and, though she had been

-encouraged to talk, she wished she had been less communicative.</p>

-

-<p>Meanwhile the old lady, who, as the reader has no doubt guessed, was

-no other than Miss Leighton, Mrs. Pringle's aunt, was walking up the

-hill towards Higher Brimley in anything but a happy frame of mind. That

-morning she had spoken of remaining some while longer in Cornwall, and

-had professed herself quite satisfied with the arrangements which had

-been made for her comfort; but now, she had almost decided to quit the

-neighbourhood at once.</p>

-

-<p>She had been greatly attracted by the blind child on the occasion

-of her visit from Penzance to look at Mr. Tiddy's flowers. And when

-she had caught sight of her on the beach an hour previously, she had

-determined to cultivate her acquaintance. But having learnt that Peggy

-was the daughter of the niece whom she had never forgiven for what she

-called her ingratitude, she was experiencing mingled feelings of anger,

-bitterness, and regret.</p>

-

-<p>"I will have no more to do with her," she thought.</p>

-

-<p>Then she shuddered as she reflected on the accident. How terrible it

-would have been if her horses had killed Margaret's little daughter!

-She had made no inquiries concerning her niece since her marriage and

-had not even known where she was living, or if she had any children

-or not. Therefore, it had been somewhat of a shock to discover she

-had a child who was afflicted with blindness. She pictured Peggy,

-golden-haired and sunny-faced, and an unwonted expression of tenderness

-crossed her countenance. After all, she decided, she would remain at

-Higher Brimley for the time, for—it was weak of her, no doubt—she felt

-she must see Peggy once again.</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>A GREAT SURPRISE</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>NOT quite a week later, Mr. Tiddy, crossing the fields in his usual

-leisurely fashion towards the house at dinner-time, caught sight of his

-wife and Peggy, standing at the garden gate, evidently waiting for him.

-As he drew near enough to see the expression of their faces, he noticed

-that both appeared excited, and as he joined them the little girl cried

-eagerly:</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, Mr. Tiddy, we've had a visitor! She came and knocked at the door

-and asked if she might go round the garden. And who do you think she

-was?"</p>

-

-<p>"Why, the old lady who's lodging at Higher Brimley, to be sure,"

-answered Mr. Tiddy promptly, evincing no surprise. "I met her this

-morning, and she stopped and spoke to me. She expressed a desire to see

-our flowers, so I told her, she'd be welcome to look at them, whenever

-she pleased. She didn't lose much time in taking me at my word," he

-concluded, smilingly.</p>

-

-<p>"Ah, but do you know who she is?" demanded Peggy. "No, we thought not.

-You'll be simply astounded when you hear. She didn't tell us until just

-as she was leaving, and then she said her name was Leighton, and that

-I was related to her—distantly related, she said. She's mother's Aunt

-Caroline, the rich lady who was in the carriage when—"</p>

-

-<p>"What!" broke in the farmer, "You don't say so!" He looked

-questioningly at his wife as he spoke, and she hastened to reply:</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Ebenezer, it is true. There can be no doubt about it. She is that

-rich Miss Leighton of whom we have heard so much."</p>

-

-<p>"I told her who I was that day she talked to me on the beach," Peggy

-said, with face and voice full of excitement. "She asked me my name;

-and—and I told her, too, all about my accident and how unkind we

-thought it of her to have driven away when I was hurt. I think perhaps

-she was cross at what I said, but I never dreamt who she was, so I

-don't think really it was my fault, do you, Mr. Tiddy?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, my dear, I do not," he agreed.</p>

-

-<p>"Still, perhaps I ought not to have talked as I did to a stranger. She

-was very nice to-day, though, wasn't she, Mrs. Tiddy?"</p>

-

-<p>"Very. Will you run into the house, Peggy, and say we are ready for

-dinner?"</p>

-

-<p>Then as the little girl obeyed, Mrs. Tiddy turned to her husband and

-said gravely:</p>

-

-<p>"Ebenezer, what can have brought Miss Leighton here? Until Peggy told

-her her name the other day, she had no idea who she was or even that

-her niece had children. I don't believe she has forgiven Peggy's mother

-yet. Isn't it shocking to bear malice in one's heart so long? 'I don't

-wish to hear anything concerning your friend or her husband,' she said

-to me in a tone without an atom of feeling in it; 'but I was never one

-for visiting the sins of the parents upon the children. My niece proved

-herself ungrateful, and I regard ingratitude as a sin, but I feel no

-resentment against her innocent daughter.' I should think not indeed!

-I made no answer, however, for I was afraid, if I did, I might say too

-much."</p>

-

-<p>"Surely she did not make that remark before Peggy!" exclaimed Mr.

-Tiddy, his ruddy colour deepening with indignation.</p>

-

-<p>"No, certainly not; Peggy was not within hearing then. What shall I do?

-Miss Leighton asked me to call on her and bring Peggy with me, and I

-half promised I would; I did not like to refuse. I think the old lady

-has taken a fancy to the child. Isn't it strange that those two should

-have crossed each other's path again?"</p>

-

-<p>The farmer nodded, a very thoughtful expression on his face. "There's

-One above Who planned they should meet, that's my opinion," he said

-gravely; "and I don't think we ought to try to keep them apart. Maybe

-the old lady will get to feel more kindly towards her niece when she

-knows Peggy better and realises what a dear little soul she is and how

-well her mother has brought her up. I am sure Mrs. Pringle will not

-object to your taking the child to call on her aunt. By the way, does

-Miss Leighton like her lodgings?"</p>

-

-<p>"She said they were fairly comfortable. She strikes me as a rather

-dissatisfied body. She is anything but a happy woman, Ebenezer, though

-God has given her so much; and I hear from the servants, who have

-become friendly with her maid, that she is a very jealous, exacting

-temper, and she is always imagining people are trying to cultivate her

-acquaintance on account of her wealth."</p>

-

-<p>"Well, she cannot possibly imagine that about you," Mr. Tiddy replied,

-"for she has sought your acquaintance herself. I suppose we had better

-go in to dinner now. There's Peggy under the porch beckoning to us."</p>

-

-<p>Mrs. Tiddy decided she would not call upon Miss Leighton until she had

-mentioned the matter to her old school friend; so she wrote to her that

-same day, and received an answer by return of post. Mrs. Pringle said

-very little about her aunt in her letter, but she raised no objection

-to her little daughter's calling with Mrs. Tiddy at Higher Brimley.

-"Aunt Caroline is not fond of young people," she remarked, "so please

-don't force the child upon her notice—but I am sure you will not do

-that."</p>

-

-<p>"I certainly will not," Mrs. Tiddy reflected as she folded up her

-friend's letter, "but I will take Peggy to call on Miss Leighton, as

-the old lady made a point of my doing so. We need not stay very long,

-any way."</p>

-

-<p>Peggy experienced a feeling of unusual shyness when, one April

-afternoon, she accompanied Mrs. Tiddy to Higher Brimley; and, although

-Miss Leighton received them with every sign of cordiality, she was

-anything but at ease in her presence. As the little girl sat in silence

-listening to the conversation of the two ladies, she was aware that the

-elder's eyes were upon her, and she alternately flushed and paled as

-she thought over the small amount of information she had gleaned from

-her mother since her accident about this aunt of hers. Her tender heart

-had gone out in sympathy towards the old lady, whom she had sincerely

-pitied because she had fancied she might be all alone in the world, but

-now she mentally regarded her from quite another point of view.</p>

-

-<p>"Mother would have loved her, if she would have let her," she

-reflected. "It is her own fault if she is lonely. I wonder if she will

-speak of mother to me!"</p>

-

-<p>But Miss Leighton did not once mention her niece's name. She addressed

-herself very kindly to Peggy every now and again, and seemed wishful

-to make much of her, and Mrs. Tiddy saw she was disappointed and

-half-vexed by the child's evident disinclination to talk.</p>

-

-<p>"What have you done with your dog this afternoon?" Miss Leighton

-inquired, when at length her visitors rose to go.</p>

-

-<p>"We shut him up in the stable before we started," Peggy answered. "He

-wanted to come because he loves a walk."</p>

-

-<p>"He is rather quarrelsome with other dogs," Mrs. Tiddy explained, "so

-we thought it wiser to leave him at home. The poor creature was very

-disappointed, for he spends most of his time with Peggy now, and we

-always feel she is safe if Wolf is with her."</p>

-

-<p>"What will he do when he loses her altogether?" asked Miss Leighton.

-"Peggy does not propose taking him back with her to London, I presume?"</p>

-

-<p>"No," the little girl answered, accepting the question seriously, "I

-wouldn't do that, even if Mr. Tiddy would give him to me, for I am sure

-he would be wretched in town. I'd rather know he is here, guarding the

-yard and looking after the sheep, and going on as he always does—having

-such a good time! He will miss me at first, but—where is Mrs. Tiddy?"

-she asked quickly.</p>

-

-<p>They had left the house and were in the garden now, Mrs. Tiddy having

-lingered at the door to exchange a few words with Mrs. Ford.</p>

-

-<p>"She is talking to my landlady," Miss Leighton replied. "She will be

-here presently. Are you in a great hurry to go? You have no objection

-to being alone with me for a few minutes, I suppose?" she questioned

-sharply.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh! No!" Peggy assured her. "And—and now we are alone, I should like

-to say that I hope I wasn't rude to you the other day on the beach,"

-she proceeded, looking distressed. "I would not have spoken like that

-if—if I had known who you were. I—I have thought of it often since,

-and I am sorry if I said anything you did not like. I was afraid,

-afterwards, that you were displeased with me."</p>

-

-<p>"People are seldom pleased to hear others' opinions of themselves,"

-was the dry response. "You evidently considered my conduct towards you

-had been heartless; but I am not angry with you, child. You only said

-frankly what you thought."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Peggy agreed, colouring hotly in her confusion. "I am glad you

-are not angry, though, because I did not mean to be rude, and I am

-afraid I must have been," she added deprecatingly.</p>

-

-<p>"I think you are prejudiced against me." Miss Leighton paused

-momentarily, and sighed, then continued, "Well, it is natural you

-should be. I am sorry, nevertheless. Cannot you dismiss all you have

-heard of me from your mind and take me as you find me?"</p>

-

-<p>"I—I will try. I have not heard much about you, indeed! I never heard

-of you at all till after my accident! Then Billy told me who you were,

-and I was so surprised! Billy and I have often talked of you since!"</p>

-

-<p>"Really? I dare say you heard Mrs. Tiddy ask me to take tea with her

-one afternoon, soon? I shall hope then to hear you play. I hear you are

-quite a musician."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, no! But I love music. I play to Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy every night."

-The mantle of reserve was falling from Peggy and the brightness was

-returning to her face. "Do you love music too?" she inquired, lifting

-her sightless blue eyes to her companion's countenance.</p>

-

-<p>"Indeed I do; so we have that much in common, at any rate."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, we have more than that, for I am sure you love flowers, and so

-do I. Do you know, there are such a lot of sea-pinks growing on the

-cliffs—"</p>

-

-<p>"You do not go on the cliffs alone?" Miss Leighton interposed.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, no! But I have been several times with Mr. Tiddy, and I hold fast

-to his hand. There is a sheep-track along the cliffs, you know, and

-it is quite safe if you keep to that. I could find my way alone, I am

-sure, but I never mean to try, because I have promised, I won't."</p>

-

-<p>"That's well. Perhaps you and I might walk there together some day. Do

-you think you could put up with an old woman for a companion?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, Miss Leighton," Peggy answered, smiling.</p>

-

-<p>"And you shall show me the sea-pinks, and we will take Wolf to protect

-us both. But do not call me 'Miss Leighton,' child; call me 'Aunt

-Caroline,' for you are my great-niece and—and I should like to be kind

-to you."</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>CONCERNING ELLEN BARNES</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>MISS LEIGHTON'S maid—Ellen Barnes—was a plain, sad-faced, middle-aged

-woman who had been with her present employer for many years. She had

-known Mrs. Pringle before her marriage, and consequently, it was with

-considerable satisfaction and some astonishment that she saw the

-interest with which her mistress regarded the daughter of the niece,

-the very existence of whom she had ignored so long.</p>

-

-<p>It cannot be said that Miss Leighton was on anything like confidential

-terms with her maid; but she trusted her, and she would have certainly

-been at a loss without the services of the quiet, rather spiritless

-woman who rarely spoke except in answer to a question.</p>

-

-<p>Miss Leighton had now been nearly a fortnight at Higher Brimley, and

-had had several interviews with her little great-niece on the beach,

-and had walked with her along the sheep-track on the cliffs to look at

-the sea-pinks. But she had not yet taken tea with Mrs. Tiddy as had

-been suggested, and when, one sunshiny morning, Peggy arrived with an

-invitation for her to do so that afternoon, she accepted it immediately.</p>

-

-<p>"Of course I will come," she replied, after Peggy—rosy with the

-exercise of walking—had delivered her message. "Please give my kind

-regards to Mrs. Tiddy and say I accept her invitation with pleasure.

-Did you walk here by yourself, child?"</p>

-

-<p>"No," answered Peggy. She had been ushered into Miss Leighton's

-sitting-room by Ellen Barnes, who had been on an errand to the post

-office for her mistress and had overtaken the little girl on her way

-home. "I started to come alone," she said, "but I had not gone far

-before I heard some one calling to me. It was Barnes. So we walked on

-together. What a very nice woman she is, Aunt Caroline! We had such a

-long talk!"</p>

-

-<p>"Humph!" exclaimed Miss Leighton, rather surprised. "And, pray, what

-did you find to talk about?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, about things at home, first of all," was the somewhat vague

-response. "My home, of course I mean. I did not know till to-day that

-Barnes knew my mother."</p>

-

-<p>The little girl had taken the chair which had been placed for her close

-to the open window by which Miss Leighton was sitting, and the bright

-spring sunshine fell full upon her face framed in its golden curls.

-Certainly she made a very pretty picture.</p>

-

-<p>"I like Barnes," she proceeded in a tone of decision as her companion

-vouchsafed no response. "How very fortunate you are to have such a nice

-woman for your maid, Aunt Caroline!"</p>

-

-<p>"I believe she is thoroughly trustworthy," Miss Leighton remarked,

-somewhat astonished at this expression of opinion, "and that is a great

-deal to be able to say of any one. Barnes has been with me many years.

-I pay her good wages and she is not overworked. I believe she values

-her situation."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, yes, I am sure she does!" Peggy agreed earnestly.</p>

-

-<p>"How can you tell, child?" Miss Leighton asked, a slightly amused smile

-curving her lips.</p>

-

-<p>"She told me she did, Aunt Caroline."</p>

-

-<p>"Did she?" There was gratification in the old lady's voice. "But—how

-strange of her to say so to you! She must have been very confidential."</p>

-

-<p>"She was telling me about her brother, and how she values her situation

-with you because you pay her such good wages that she is able to send

-home more than half she earns. Oh, Aunt Caroline, when she told me

-about her brother, I thought how thankful I ought to be that God has

-only made me blind! Suppose I was like poor Barnes's brother: how much

-worse that would be!"</p>

-

-<p>"What about Barnes's brother?" inquired Miss Leighton, in utter

-bewilderment. "I have never heard anything about my maid's relations;

-she has a week's holiday every summer; I suppose she goes to see them

-then. Stay—I think I remember hearing her once mention a mother, who,

-by the way, must be a very old woman, for Barnes herself is quite

-middle-aged."</p>

-

-<p>"Barnes's mother is more than eighty years old, and she lives in a

-little village near Plymouth with her son. Oh, Aunt Caroline, he is

-only two years younger than Barnes, and he has been an idiot all his

-life!"</p>

-

-<p>"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Leighton, feeling really shocked. "I never

-heard that before. Barnes never told me."</p>

-

-<p>Peggy looked intensely surprised for a minute, then an expression of

-comprehension crossed her face. "I expect she did not like to tell

-you," she said. "Perhaps she thought you would not be interested, you

-know."</p>

-

-<p>"Why should she think that?" Miss Leighton questioned sharply.</p>

-

-<p>The little girl was silent. She had heard Mrs. Tiddy say that Barnes

-looked a broken-spirited woman; and Mrs. Ford, when she had called

-at Lower Brimley a few days previously, had declared her to be a

-perfect slave to her mistress's whims, and wondered why she did not

-seek another situation with some one who, at any rate, would be less

-inconsiderate and exacting. In the conversation the little girl had

-had with Barnes, she had discovered the reason which induced her to

-keep her post. It was because it enabled her to do so much for her poor

-mother and her imbecile brother in their cottage home.</p>

-

-<p>"Why should you think that?" Miss Leighton persisted. "Come, speak out,

-child! Don't be afraid of me!"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm not," Peggy answered truthfully, for she was not in the least in

-awe of the old lady. "I meant that—that perhaps if you have never asked

-Barnes about her relations, she would think you would not care to hear

-about them. But it does seem so very odd that she should have lived

-with you so many years, and you should not know all about her mother

-and brother!"</p>

-

-<p>"The brother is an idiot, you say?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes; but Barnes and her mother are very fond of him; it would break

-her mother's heart to be parted from him, and Barnes says they shall

-never be separated as long as God gives her health and strength to

-work. They get parish pay, and with what Barnes sends them they manage

-to live pretty comfortably. Oh, Aunt Caroline, mustn't it be dreadful

-to have a brother like that! Oh dear, I do think it is so very sad!"

-And the pitiful tears rose to Peggy's blue eyes and ran down her cheeks.</p>

-

-<p>"You mustn't take other people's troubles to heart like that!" Miss

-Leighton exclaimed hastily.</p>

-

-<p>"I feel so sorry for Barnes," Peggy said, with deepest sorrow in her

-tone, "because I am sure it must make her very unhappy to think of her

-brother and her old mother sometimes. She must wish to see them so

-much, and always be wondering how they are getting on. Mrs. Tiddy says

-Barnes looks a very sad woman. I wish I could do something to make her

-happier."</p>

-

-<p>"I said so to her just now," she continued, with a brightening face,

-"and what do you think she answered? That I had helped her by being

-sorry for her brother; she said she wouldn't have told me anything

-about him if I hadn't been afflicted myself, and it warmed her heart to

-know I cared. I told her I should pray to God every night to make her

-brother right in his mind, and she said she was afraid that would never

-be in this world. Poor fellow! He's like me, Aunt Caroline, in that

-way, isn't he? He will have to bear his cross as long as he lives, and

-his cross is so much heavier than mine."</p>

-

-<p>A silence followed, during which Miss Leighton sat gazing, unseeingly,

-out of the window. There was a mist before her eyes, and a lump in her

-throat which prevented her uttering a word. By-and-by Peggy rose to go.</p>

-

-<p>"Mrs. Tiddy said she hoped you would come early this afternoon," she

-observed. "Please do, for I've so many things to show you."</p>

-

-<p>"I certainly will," Miss Leighton replied. "Shall Barnes take you home?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh no, thank you, I know the way quite well; I have only to keep to

-the road. Good-bye, Aunt Caroline—till this afternoon."</p>

-

-<p>Miss Leighton stood at the window and watched the little girl out of

-sight, a gentler expression than usual on her face. Then she resumed

-her seat and took up the book she had been reading before the child's

-arrival; but it failed to interest her now, for her mind was full of

-uneasy thoughts. Barnes had lived with her for nearly twenty years,

-she reflected; and yet how little she really knew of the woman! Well,

-it could not be expected that she would interest herself in her maid's

-concerns. And yet, how surprised Peggy had been at discovering her

-ignorance of aged mother and her imbecile son. Peggy had learnt all

-there was to know about them in less than half an hour.</p>

-

-<p>Miss Leighton paid her servants liberal wages—she was never stingy

-where money was concerned—and it had often occurred to her that Barnes

-must be of a miserly disposition, for she dressed very plainly and it

-had been impossible not to notice that she begrudged spending money.

-Now she understood where the woman's wages had gone. Barnes had not

-been making a purse for herself, but spending it upon those dear

-to her, and, all the while, she had been regarding her as a mean,

-poor-spirited creature.</p>

-

-<p>It was difficult to realise that the humble, silent woman who had borne

-with her mistress's haughty temper so patiently, had been leading a

-life of self-sacrifice and self-repression from the noblest of motives;

-but Miss Leighton now realised that such had been the case, for Peggy

-had thrown a new light upon the maid's character.</p>

-

-<p>What had made Barnes tell Peggy about her brother? the old lady

-wondered. Was it because her heart had been hungry for sympathy,

-and she had known instinctively that she would receive it from the

-blind child? Probably so. She had preferred to confide in a stranger,

-rather than in the mistress whom she knew to be accounted a charitable

-woman—one lavish in giving of her wealth.</p>

-

-<p>"I don't think she can really be charitable, if she isn't kind in

-little ways," Peggy had said ingenuously, passing her childish judgment

-on her mother's rich aunt, and the words returned forcibly to Miss

-Leighton's mind now, and cause her a strange pang, whilst she asked

-herself if she had ever been really kind to Ellen Barnes, or for that

-matter, to any member of her household. She was a lonely old woman;

-but, after all, was it not greatly owing to her own fault? She had

-certainly never been "kind in little ways."</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>TEA AT LOWER BRIMLEY</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>IT was not the ordinary "afternoon tea" to which Miss Leighton was

-invited, but a substantial meal laid on the square mahogany table in

-the parlour at Lower Brimley, with a mass of primroses in the centre

-intermingled with sprays of beautiful fern moss, surrounded by plates

-of daintily cut bread-and-butter and various kinds of preserves in

-glass dishes, an old china bowl full of clotted cream, a plum cake, and

-some saffron buns—"knobbies" as they are called in Cornwall.</p>

-

-<p>It was but natural that Mrs. Tiddy should put her best possessions

-before this relation of her little visitor's, so the silver tea-service

-had come out of its flannel wrappings, and Miss Leighton drank her tea

-from a rare old china teacup with a wreath of pink roses inside its

-brim—one of a set which had been treasured in Mr. Tiddy's family for

-three generations and was only used on great occasions—and stirred her

-tea with an apostle spoon, worn thin with age; whilst, much to her

-hostess's gratification, she evidently appreciated the efforts which

-were being made to entertain her.</p>

-

-<p>Seated at Mrs. Tiddy's right hand at the tea-table, the old lady looked

-about her with a sense of unusual contentment. For once in a way, she

-was satisfied with the company in which she found herself. Yes, she

-liked this hearty, out-spoken west-country farmer and his pleasant,

-intelligent wife, for she was under the impression—a true one—that

-they would have welcomed her as cordially if she had been poor instead

-of rich, and she so seldom felt that about people. After tea, Peggy

-took possession of her, and, after visiting the yard and inspecting

-the poultry, she was led into the great farm kitchen, where, in one

-corner of the oak settle close to the fire was a flannel-lined basket

-containing two weakly chicks.</p>

-

-<p>"Mrs. Tiddy thought this morning that they would die," Peggy said as

-she covered the invalids with her warm hands. "But they are getting on

-nicely now, and to-morrow, they'll be strong enough to run with their

-brothers and sisters."</p>

-

-<p>Miss Leighton glanced around the kitchen with admiring, appreciative

-eyes, noticing the shining tins on the mantel-piece, the big copper

-warming-pan and the tall, brass-faced clock against the wall, and the

-linen bags hanging from the beams which spanned the ceiling, containing

-home-cured hams and sides of bacon. And then, after a visit to the

-dairy, she returned with Peggy to the parlour, where the tea-things had

-disappeared from the table, and the easiest chair in the room was drawn

-near the window for the guest.</p>

-

-<p>"What a peaceful scene it is!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, as her eyes

-rested on the village below and the distant sea. "I suppose, Mrs.

-Tiddy, you have become greatly attached to this charming spot?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Mrs. Tiddy answered. "I love Lower Brimley as I imagine only

-a woman who has been homeless and dependent can love her home. There

-was nowhere in the world where I could feel I had a right to be, till

-I married, for I was left an orphan at an early age and brought up by

-relations who regarded me in the light of an incubus. The bread of

-charity is very bitter, Miss Leighton—how bitter, it is impossible for

-those who have never tasted it to guess. I finished my education in a

-school as a pupil teacher, so I can truthfully say, that after I was

-seventeen, I maintained myself. You know I was a governess for several

-years, but I prefer being a farmer's wife," she concluded with a happy

-laugh.</p>

-

-<p>"Your lines have fallen in pleasant places," Miss Leighton remarked,

-with a smile which was very gracious.</p>

-

-<p>And Mrs. Tiddy agreed.</p>

-

-<p>Then Peggy was asked to give them some music, and she went to the piano

-willingly. Miss Leighton was astonished to hear the child could play so

-well, and expressed herself delighted, remarking that she had evidently

-been most carefully taught.</p>

-

-<p>"Soon I am going to learn the organ," Peggy informed the old lady,

-twisting round on the piano-stool, "and then, perhaps, when I am quite

-grown up I shall be able to earn my own living. How splendid that will

-be! I think I would rather be a musician than anything else, because

-it makes people happy to hear music. Oh! here's Mr. Tiddy!" she cried,

-catching the sound of footsteps in the hall; and a minute later the

-farmer entered the room.</p>

-

-<p>"You've been having some music?" he said, glancing at Peggy on the

-piano-stool. "Well, now, won't you sing something, my dear? She has a

-voice as sweet as a lark's," he continued, turning to the visitor. "I

-am sure you would like to hear her sing, wouldn't you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Indeed I should," Miss Leighton replied.</p>

-

-<p>"I don't know any songs," Peggy said doubtfully; "only a few hymns, and

-little scraps from anthems which I've heard at church."</p>

-

-<p>"Sing that hymn about 'Light at evening time,' my dear," requested Mr.

-Tiddy. "I dearly like to hear you sing that."</p>

-

-<p>Peggy complied immediately, and when her sweet voice ceased there was

-dead silence for a minute or so. Surprised, the little girl turned her

-sightless eyes in the direction of Miss Leighton, wondering why she did

-not at least say, "Thank you."</p>

-

-<p>"Don't you like it?" she asked. "It's my favourite hymn, and when I was

-a very little girl mother taught me to say the first verse as a prayer.

-I say it every night now, and I expect I always shall. I suppose I like

-it so much because I'm blind. I don't know what light is, but I know

-it's very beautiful and wonderful, because Jesus is called 'The Light

-of the World,' and people seem to think it's so dreadful to be without

-it."</p>

-

-<p>"The light our Saviour brought into the world is given to the blind as

-freely as to others," Mrs. Tiddy reminded her gently. "Its home is in

-the heart, making peace and happiness and joy." She glanced at Miss

-Leighton as she spoke and was surprised at the expression of her face.

-The old lady was regarding the child with yearning eyes, and her whole

-countenance—generally so repellent in its pride—was softened by an

-emotion which rendered her incapable of speech.</p>

-

-<p>At that moment Peggy started to her feet, declaring she heard Wolf

-outside the window—he was in search of her—and hastened out of the

-room. A few minutes later, she and her faithful canine friend ran down

-the garden path side by side, the dog barking joyously at having lured

-her from the house.</p>

-

-<p>"How full of life and high spirits she is!" remarked Mr. Tiddy, as he

-moved to the window to watch the pair. "She is looking capital, isn't

-she? I declare her cheeks have become quite round and rosy, and she was

-such a pale little soul not much more than a month ago."</p>

-

-<p>"It is terrible that she should be blind!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, a

-sort of restrained vehemence in her tone as she found her voice once

-more. "Can nothing really be done for her? Has she had good advice?"</p>

-

-<p>"The best in London, I believe," Mrs. Tiddy answered with a sigh.</p>

-

-<p>"Then money would be no good—" The old lady paused as both her

-companions shook their heads. "Because if it was a question of money

-I would gladly pay any amount for the child's sake," she proceeded

-eagerly. "I—I have taken a great fancy to her. I do not know when I was

-so much attracted by a child before. I would give a great deal if she

-could be made to see."</p>

-

-<p>"Hers is not a case money can touch," Mr. Tiddy responded gravely, "I

-have been assured of that by her parents. As long as her life lasts,

-the little maid will be blind, and she knows it, but she's contented to

-wait. Her eyes will see the King in His beauty by-and-by, and meanwhile

-His love is lightening her darkness and cheering her way. Did you like

-that hymn she sang?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Miss Leighton assented, "but it made me sad. To me, blindness

-seems the heaviest affliction that can fall upon any one."</p>

-

-<p>She glanced out of the window, her expression one of mingled affection

-and pity as her gaze fell upon the little girl who was now leaning over

-the garden gate in the attitude of listening.</p>

-

-<p>"Ah, here comes Barnes to escort me home!" she exclaimed. "I have to

-thank you for a very pleasant time," she continued earnestly, looking

-from one of her companions to the other. "I am afraid I shall have no

-opportunity of returning your hospitality now, for I am leaving Higher

-Brimley at the end of the week; but surely, Mr. Tiddy, you sometimes

-bring your wife to town?"</p>

-

-<p>"She has not been back to London since I married her," Mr. Tiddy

-replied smilingly, "and she says she has no desire to go. But I mean

-for us both to take a holiday in the autumn—after the corn harvest—and

-then—"</p>

-

-<p>"And then you will come to London," Miss Leighton interposed quickly,

-"and do come and stay with me. Don't say 'No,' but think it over. It

-would give me so much pleasure to have you for my guests, and you

-should do as you pleased in every way. At any rate, promise you will

-not visit London without seeing me."</p>

-

-<p>"I readily promise that," Mrs. Tiddy answered, secretly much surprised

-at the invitation she and her husband had received. "You are very

-kind—so many thanks. Won't you stay a little longer? Barnes can wait

-for you."</p>

-

-<p>"I think I must go, for I would rather return before dark, and the

-evening is drawing in. There is a mist rising from the sea; I dare say

-it is 'only for heat and pilchards' as you Cornish folk say, but I am

-liable to bronchitis and I fear to be out in a fog."</p>

-

-<p>Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy escorted their visitor to the garden gate, where

-Barnes was waiting for her, in conversation with Peggy; and five

-minutes later, mistress and maid were climbing the hill towards Higher

-Brimley.</p>

-

-<p>"I shall leave here at the end of the week," Miss Leighton abruptly

-remarked as they neared their destination.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am," replied Barnes, in her usual quiet tone.</p>

-

-<p>"It is my intention to return to town, but I think I shall break our

-journey at Plymouth," Miss Leighton announced. "I may probably stay

-there for a day or so."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied again. Not a muscle of her face moved, nor

-was there any sign to show the delight she experienced as her mistress

-made known her plans, though her heart was palpitating with joy at the

-thought that she might soon have an opportunity of seeing her mother

-and brother.</p>

-

-<p>Miss Leighton was disappointed. She had planned to stop at Plymouth

-solely on her maid's account; but of course, she reflected, Barnes

-could not know that.</p>

-

-<p>"By the way, you have relatives living near Plymouth, have you not?"

-she asked, after a brief hesitation.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am—my mother and my brother." Barnes regarded her mistress

-dubiously, then added: "I shall be glad to see them, if you will allow

-me a day to myself, for my mother is very old, and my brother is sorely

-afflicted—he has no mind, or none to speak of. It will be a great

-pleasure to me to go and see them."</p>

-

-<p>"How is it you never mentioned them to me before?" Miss Leighton

-demanded sharply. "You are deeply attached to them, are you not?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Barnes admitted, "I am." But she did not explain why their names

-had never passed her lips, and her mistress did not ask her again.</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_10">CHAPTER X</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>GOOD-BYES</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>"HAVE you nearly finished, Barnes?"</p>

-

-<p>The speaker—Miss Leighton—put the question in a querulous tone. She

-had that moment entered her bedroom at Higher Brimley, where her maid

-was engaged in packing her belongings; and, taking off her bonnet and

-cloak, she flung them upon the bed with an irritability of manner which

-showed she had been put out.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered, as she proceeded to lock the last trunk

-and securely fasten its leather straps.</p>

-

-<p>"I have been to Lower Brimley," Miss Leighton announced. "I thought I

-would call and say good-bye to the Tiddys this evening, but they have

-gone to Penzance for the day and taken the child with them."</p>

-

-<p>There was a distinct note of disappointment in her voice, and her face

-wore an expression of mingled annoyance and regret.</p>

-

-<p>"They might have thought that I should call to-day!" she exclaimed,

-vexedly.</p>

-

-<p>"Do they know you are leaving to-morrow, ma'am?" Barnes questioned,

-respectfully.</p>

-

-<p>"I told Mrs. Tiddy I intended leaving at the end of this week: probably

-she imagines that would be on Saturday—not Friday. I should like to

-have said good-bye to little Peggy. Barnes, what I would give if the

-child's parents would consent to my adopting her!"</p>

-

-<p>"Ma'am!" cried Barnes in great astonishment, rising to her feet—she

-had been kneeling to secure the straps of the trunk—and staring at her

-mistress as though she doubted if she had heard aright. "Her mother

-would never permit it!" she declared decisively.</p>

-

-<p>"How do you know?" queried Miss Leighton, with a frown and a cold

-glance of displeasure.</p>

-

-<p>"Of course I don't know, ma'am," Barnes answered quietly, "and

-perhaps I have no right to pass my opinion; but, from what I've heard

-Miss Peggy say herself, I judge that it's very unlikely her mother

-and father would part with her, especially as she's blind. Parents

-generally love an afflicted child so much more dearly than those who

-are better fitted to face the world!" And Barnes's face softened into

-tenderness as she spoke.</p>

-

-<p>"But they will have to provide for her future, and my niece's husband

-is a poor man. If anything happened to him—if he died, his widow

-and children would be penniless, and what would become of Peggy

-then—helpless and blind? Surely if her parents are so deeply attached

-to her, they will consider her interests! I will have nothing to do

-with Margaret herself, but she shall not be a loser if she will allow

-me to adopt Peggy. What do you think of my plan, Barnes?"</p>

-

-<p>"I don't like it," Barnes responded in a low tone. "No, I don't like

-it," she repeated, gaining courage to speak her mind; "the little girl

-has a happy home, though I suppose it's a poor one, and she's been

-accustomed to a great deal of love—"</p>

-

-<p>"And if I did not love her, should I desire to adopt her?" Miss

-Leighton broke in with unusual impetuosity.</p>

-

-<p>"Your love is not like that which she's had all her life," Barnes said,

-refraining from meeting her mistress's glance. "How can it be, ma'am?

-You've taken a fancy to the child and you want her for your own sake,

-because she's sweet and loveable; but her mother and father will think

-of what's best for her—"</p>

-

-<p>The maid's sentence was never finished—and perhaps it was as well, as

-Miss Leighton's countenance had darkened with anger—for at that moment

-Mrs. Ford knocked at the door with the information that there were

-visitors downstairs. And on descending to her sitting-room, the old

-lady found Mrs. Tiddy and Peggy awaiting her.</p>

-

-<p>"We are so sorry we were not at home when you called, Miss Leighton,"

-said Mrs. Tiddy, "especially as you are leaving to-morrow—I thought you

-would not go till Saturday. We have just returned from Penzance, where

-we have spent the day."</p>

-

-<p>"I hope you have had a pleasant time," Miss Leighton remarked genially.

-"But are you not very tired?"</p>

-

-<p>"I think Peggy is," Mrs. Tiddy replied, "but when we heard you had been

-to Lower Brimley in our absence to say good-bye to us, she felt with me

-that we could not let you go without a word of farewell, so we decided

-to come straight on here. We must only stay a few minutes, though, as

-my husband is waiting in the dog-cart outside."</p>

-

-<p>"We have had such a lovely day," Peggy informed Miss Leighton. "We had

-dinner at an hotel, and we rode to Land's End in a Jersey car; Mr.

-Tiddy said I must not go home without having been to Land's End."</p>

-

-<p>"And when do you go home?" Miss Leighton inquired.</p>

-

-<p>"At the end of the month," Peggy answered, "when father is coming to

-fetch me. It has all been arranged. Father is going to take a few days'

-holiday; and I shall be able to show him the sea, and the village, and

-the church on the cliff, and all the poultry and the animals on the

-farm! Oh! I am so much looking forward to that! But I shall be very

-sorry when the time comes to leave Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy and dear old

-Wolf! I shall never forget my visit to Cornwall as long as I live! I

-shall not forget you, either," she went on, taking the old lady's hand

-between her own and pressing it. "I don't suppose we shall ever meet

-again, but I shall remember you—always. I wish you were not unfriendly

-with mother! I am sure she would like to be friendly with you. Don't

-you think, Aunt Caroline, you might forgive her now?"</p>

-

-<p>"Did any one tell you to say this to me?" questioned Miss Leighton

-suspiciously, glancing from the child to Mrs. Tiddy, who looked

-somewhat alarmed.</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, no, no! But it seems so dreadful and—and sad that you and mother

-should not be friends, for I know you used to be kind to her long ago;

-and you have been very kind to me—so different from what I thought you

-were like!"</p>

-

-<p>"It's my great desire to be always kind to you, Peggy," Miss Leighton

-said gravely and impressively. "I wish you to bear that in mind. But

-you must not meddle between your mother and me. Little girls should not

-interfere in matters they do not understand."</p>

-

-<p>Peggy blushed rosy red and her blue eyes filled with tears, but she

-managed to keep them back. She felt snubbed and uncomfortable, and was

-very relieved when Mrs. Tiddy declared they must go. Miss Leighton rose

-to escort her visitors to the garden gate, and, as they were leaving

-the room, Barnes came downstairs. Peggy recognised the maid's step

-immediately, and meet her with extended hands.</p>

-

-<p>"Good-bye, Barnes," she said, adding in a whisper, "I sha'n't forget

-all you told me about your poor brother, and I shall remember always to

-pray for him as I said I would. If you ever see me in London, you'll be

-sure to speak to me, will you not?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, miss," Barnes responded. She glanced hastily around and saw that

-her mistress had followed Mrs. Tiddy out of the front door, then she

-put her arms around Peggy and kissed her. "Good-bye, you dear little

-soul," she said affectionately. "You're going home soon, are you not,

-my dear?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Peggy assented happily.</p>

-

-<p>"Ah, you'll be glad to be with your mother and father and brother

-again, won't you?"</p>

-

-<p>"Indeed I shall," agreed Peggy.</p>

-

-<p>"There's no place like home and the love we get there—remember that,

-Miss Peggy. It's better to be rich in love than in money, any day!"</p>

-

-<p>"Of course it is," smiled the little girl. "And I shall be very glad to

-be at home again, though Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been as kind as kind

-could be!"</p>

-

-<p>"They're good, kind people, miss; any one can see that, and you've been

-happy with them, I know; but—there, I mustn't keep you any longer!" And

-Barnes kissed Peggy once more and hurried away.</p>

-

-<p>After that, Peggy hastened to join the others at the garden gate. Mrs.

-Tiddy had already taken her place on the front seat of the dog-cart,

-and Mr. Tiddy was shaking hands with Miss Leighton and telling her, in

-his hearty, hospitable way, that she must never pay that district a

-visit without coming to Lower Brimley. She assured him that she never

-would.</p>

-

-<p>"Now then, Peggy. Ready?" he inquired briskly.</p>

-

-<p>The little girl assented, approaching Miss Leighton and holding out her

-hand. She raised her face to the old lady's and received a lingering

-kiss, which she returned rather shyly. Then, Mr. Tiddy lifted her in

-his arms and placed her on the back seat of the dog-cart, bidding her

-keep a firm hold of the rail of the vehicle and not fall out.</p>

-

-<p>"Good-bye, Aunt Caroline!" cried Peggy brightly, waving her hand, as

-they started off for home.</p>

-

-<p>But Miss Leighton made no response. There was a choking sensation in

-her throat, and she dared not attempt to speak for fear her voice

-should betray her emotion. She had a feeling, at that moment, that

-Peggy was going from her for ever, and that made her very sad.</p>

-

-<p>The spring evening was closing in fast now; and, as the dog-cart

-disappeared from sight, Miss Leighton turned and slowly retraced her

-footsteps towards the house, encountering Barnes as she entered the

-front door. The maid looked at her mistress a trifle curiously, and

-received a somewhat defiant glance in return.</p>

-

-<p>"Tell Mrs. Ford I shall require my supper immediately, as I shall have

-to be up early in the morning, and therefore shall go to bed in good

-time to-night, Barnes," Miss Leighton said, in her usual cold tone.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied. "I am glad, ma'am, that Mrs. Tiddy

-brought little Miss Peggy to say good-bye to you," she ventured to add.</p>

-

-<p>"I have said good-bye to the child for the present," Miss Leighton

-responded deliberately; "but she too will soon be returning to town,

-and I have planned that we shall meet again."</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_11">CHAPTER XI</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>HOME AGAIN</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>"I SHOULD think they will be here very soon now!"</p>

-

-<p>The speaker was Mrs. Pringle, who stood at the sitting-room window of

-her home, looking out into the narrow street, one cold, wet, spring

-evening. Her arm was around Billy's shoulders; and the little boy's

-face, which wore an expression of eager watchfulness, was pressed close

-to the window-pane.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Billy answered, "I hope so. It always seems so long when one is

-waiting, doesn't it, mother? How it is raining!"</p>

-

-<p>"I wish it had been a finer evening for Peggy's return," Mrs. Pringle

-remarked. "We must keep the fire up."</p>

-

-<p>She moved back from the window and put mare coals into the grate.</p>

-

-<p>"We will give our little Sunbeam a warm welcome, at any rate," she

-added with a smile.</p>

-

-<p>All day, she had gone about her household duties with the happiest

-of hearts, and every now and again she had run upstairs to make sure

-that Peggy's bedroom was quite in order. For her husband, who had gone

-to Cornwall a few days previously, was expected to bring his little

-daughter home that night. Needless to say, Billy was no less delighted

-than his mother at the prospect of so soon seeing Peggy again; whilst

-Sarah, in the kitchen, had opened the door, that she might hear the

-expected cab pull up before the house, and kept the kettle on the boil

-in readiness to make tea the minute the travellers should arrive.</p>

-

-<p>"Here they are!" cried Billy excitedly, at last, and, followed by his

-mother, he rushed into the passage, almost colliding with Sarah, who

-was hurrying from the kitchen, and flung wide the front door, admitting

-as he did so a blast of cold wind.</p>

-

-<p>"Don't go out into the rain, Billy," advised Mrs. Pringle, her face

-aglow with expectancy. "See, your father is lifting Peggy out of the

-cab; he will bring her straight in."</p>

-

-<p>The next minute, Peggy was in her mother's arms, rapturously returning

-her mother's welcoming kiss; then came Billy's turn to be embraced,

-and after that, Sarah's. The little girl's countenance was one beam of

-happiness, and her cheeks were so rosy that her brother gazed at her in

-surprise.</p>

-

-<p>"Why, Peggy, how you've altered!" he cried. "And I do believe you've

-grown!"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm sure she has," Mrs. Pringle agreed. "She is looking remarkably

-well. She left home as white as a lily, and she has returned like a

-red, red rose."</p>

-

-<p>"Are you glad I've come home?" Peggy asked, not because she was in the

-least doubtful on the point, but because it was so sweet to know she

-had been missed and how welcome was her presence at home once more.</p>

-

-<p>"Glad?" exclaimed Billy, "I should think we are! We've all of us missed

-you most dreadfully, Peggy. Even Mr. Maloney noticed that the house

-seemed quite different without you!"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes; but now our little Sunbeam has returned to us," Mrs. Pringle said

-lovingly, "and it is such happiness to have her given back to us well

-and strong!"</p>

-

-<p>"And has no one a welcome for me?" asked Mr. Pringle at that point.

-He had seen about the luggage and dismissed the cabman, and now stood

-regarding the excited group with a glance half humorous, half tender.

-"Have you forgotten that you have not seen me for three whole days?

-Never mind," he continued, after he had kissed his wife and his little

-son, "I am content to take the second place to-night. But Peggy and I

-are both tired and hungry; so, suppose we have our tea at once—as soon

-as Peggy has removed her wraps."</p>

-

-<p>A very pleasant meal followed; and afterwards the family drew round the

-fireplace, in a circle, to talk.</p>

-

-<p>"I've so much to tell you, that I don't know where to begin," Peggy

-remarked. "Oh, I do think the very nicest part of going away on a visit

-is the coming home again!"</p>

-

-<p>There was a general laugh at that, and Mr. Pringle said:</p>

-

-<p>"That's good hearing, my dear. We left Cornwall bathed in glorious

-sunshine this morning," he continued, addressing his wife. "Your

-schoolfellow's home is in a most beautiful spot. I cannot express how

-greatly I have enjoyed my three days' holiday at Lower Brimley. Both

-Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been kindness itself, and never shall we be

-able to repay them for all they have done for Peggy!"</p>

-

-<p>"I was—oh, so sorry to say good-bye to them," the little girl said

-soberly, "and there was Wolf—poor Wolf! He had to be shut up in the

-stable for fear he would follow us to the station and want to go by

-train. He is such a dear, dear dog! You will love him, Billy, when you

-see him!"</p>

-

-<p>"Do you think I shall ever see him, Peggy?" Billy asked, anxiously. "Do

-you really think Mr. Tiddy will remember to invite me to Lower Brimley

-in the summer holidays?"</p>

-

-<p>"I am sure he will," the little girl replied positively. "I heard him

-mention it several times; he won't forget, he always keeps his word."</p>

-

-<p>"And what about Aunt Caroline?" Mrs. Pringle at length asked. "I was

-never more surprised in my life than when I heard you and she had met!"</p>

-

-<p>"Was it not strange?" Peggy said seriously. "You know she came from

-Penzance on purpose to see Mr. Tiddy's daffodils, and she was so

-pleased with them."</p>

-

-<p>"Did she find out who you were, then?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, no—not until long after that—when she was lodging at Higher

-Brimley. I met her on the beach and she spoke to me, and—and I talked

-rather much, for I told her my name—she asked me, I think—and all about

-my accident. Even then she didn't say who she was. But afterwards she

-came to Lower Brimley and asked permission to go around the garden—Mr.

-Tiddy had told her she might—and Mrs. Tiddy and I went with her, and

-just before she left she said I was distantly related to her and

-explained who she was. After that, she was very nice and kind to

-me—very kind indeed!"</p>

-

-<p>"But you don't like her, Peggy, do you?" cried Billy. "I thought her

-such a proud, cross old woman!"</p>

-

-<p>"She speaks in rather a proud way sometimes," Peggy allowed

-reluctantly, "but she isn't cross when you know her—at least, she

-wasn't to me. She said she wouldn't have driven away so quickly after I

-had been knocked down by her horse, if she had known I was blind. Yes,

-I rather like her, but I don't suppose I shall ever meet her again,

-though I should like to. And then there's Barnes—"</p>

-

-<p>"Barnes? Is she still with Aunt Caroline?" broke in Mrs. Pringle,

-eagerly.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," nodded Peggy, "and she asked me such a lot of questions about

-you, mother. I like Barnes. She told me about her poor afflicted

-brother, and—wasn't it strange?—Aunt Caroline had never heard of him

-till I happened to speak of him to her."</p>

-

-<p>"I dare say not, my dear," Mrs. Pringle answered, evincing no surprise.

-"I remember about poor Barnes's brother," she proceeded. "He is not

-right in his mind, and Barnes helps support him and her mother too. The

-mother must be a very aged woman now."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," the little girl answered. "Poor Barnes! Aunt Caroline used to

-speak so sharply to her sometimes—I heard her—but that is her way, I

-suppose."</p>

-

-<p>"It used to be," Mrs. Pringle admitted with a sigh, "and, from what you

-tell me, I imagine she has not altered much these last ten years."</p>

-

-<p>"I don't think she's a bit happy," Peggy said, shaking her golden head.

-"That seems very sad, doesn't it? Barnes told the servants at Lower

-Brimley that Aunt Caroline has no friends, because she always thinks

-people who are nice to her want her money."</p>

-

-<p>"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Pringle understandingly, with a quick glance at

-her husband. "Poor Aunt Caroline!"</p>

-

-<p>She sat in silence after that, listening whilst Peggy expatiated at

-great length upon all the delights of life at a farm. Billy drank in

-every word with keen interest, reflecting that some day, not so very

-distant, he would most likely enjoy his share of the pleasures which

-his sister explained so marvellously—considering she had been unable to

-see.</p>

-

-<p>"I know everything was very beautiful," she said, in conclusion, "for

-there seemed to be flowers everywhere, and the scent of the gorse on

-the cliffs was wonderful—I never smelt anything so sweet or strong

-before! And the air was so warm, and the sun shone nearly every day,

-and—"</p>

-

-<p>"And now you have come back to rain and cold," interposed Mrs. Pringle;

-"you will feel it a hardship, I fear, after the mild climate you've

-enjoyed of late and after having spent so much time out-of-doors, to be

-cooped up in a small house again."</p>

-

-<p>"I don't mind the rain and the cold in the very least," Peggy declared,

-"and I love our little house. Oh, I'm so glad to be at home! Yes,

-indeed I am! I've enjoyed my visit to Cornwall; but I think I've missed

-you all as much or more than you have missed me. I'm glad I went, but

-I'm gladder still to be back again—to be able to hear your voices and

-put out my hands and feel you are here! You would understand what that

-means, if you were blind. Oh, I think I was never so happy in my life

-before as I am to-night."</p>

-

-<p>"Thank God for that, my darling," Mrs. Pringle responded in a tremulous

-voice. "Oh, we have much to thank Him for!" she added softly, as

-she remembered the pale, delicate little girl she had seen off at

-Paddington railway station with a very heavy heart six weeks previously

-and mentally compared her with the one—a picture of health and

-contentment—who now nestled close to her side. She had prayed—oh, so

-earnestly!—that Peggy might be restored to her well and strong, and her

-Father in Heaven had answered her prayer.</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_12">CHAPTER XII</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>THE first few days after Peggy's return home were very wet and cold,

-although it was late spring. But one morning, she arose conscious of a

-change in the atmosphere and that the sun was shining into her bedroom

-window, whilst the sparrows were twittering noisily outside as though

-they had matters of great importance to discuss with each other.</p>

-

-<p>"I think we are going to have a taste of spring weather at last,"

-observed Mr. Pringle at the breakfast table that morning. "There's the

-promise of a beautiful May day, and I hope," he continued, addressing

-his wife, "that you will manage to get out for a while in the

-sunshine—you and Peggy."</p>

-

-<p>"I want to do so," Mrs. Pringle replied. "I have some shopping to do

-first of all, and afterwards we may, perhaps, extend our walk."</p>

-

-<p>Accordingly Peggy and her mother spent most of the morning

-out-of-doors. They were both in excellent spirits, and though, of

-course, they had to take their walk in the streets, they thoroughly

-enjoyed it. Mrs. Pringle looked into the shops and told her little

-daughter what the windows contained; and they bought a bunch of

-wallflowers from a costermonger's barrow, for a penny, which smelt

-almost as sweet as those at Lower Brimley, Peggy declared, and she

-wondered if they had come from Cornwall—that corner of the world which,

-to the blind child, would always be remembered as a paradise of flowers.</p>

-

-<p>Then, on their way home, they encountered Mr. Maloney, whom Peggy had

-not met since her return. He turned and walked with them as far as

-their own door, listening with a rather preoccupied air, Mrs. Pringle

-thought, to the little girl's chatter, and watching her animated

-countenance with an expression of grave scrutiny in his kindly eyes.</p>

-

-<p>"I want a private conversation with you and your husband, Mrs.

-Pringle," he remarked. "If I call this evening, shall I find you both

-disengaged?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," she assented, adding anxiously, "there is nothing wrong, is

-there? You have no bad news to tell us?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, no!" he responded, with a reassuring smile. "Please do not imagine

-that for a moment. I will call this evening, then, about seven."</p>

-

-<p>Peggy wondered what Mr. Maloney could have to say to her parents in

-private. And Mr. Pringle expressed astonishment when his wife informed

-him at dinner-time of the reason the Vicar had assigned for his

-proposed call. Whilst Billy, though he made no remark, was filled with

-intense curiosity, and by the evening had become quite excited, and

-found great difficulty in concentrating his mind to prepare his lessons

-for the following day.</p>

-

-<p>Mr. Pringle had given orders that the Vicar was to be shown into the

-music-room, as the small apartment was called which was apportioned

-to the use of the master of the house. And as soon as Mrs. Pringle,

-who had been sewing in the sitting-room, heard Sarah admit Mr. Maloney

-punctually at the hour he had appointed, she laid aside her work, and

-the next moment, the children were alone.</p>

-

-<p>Billy continued to pore over his lesson books, whilst Peggy sat

-opposite to him at the table, her busy fingers engaged in knitting a

-sock, one of a pair she was making for her father. Sarah had taught the

-little girl the accomplishment of knitting during the long evenings

-of the previous winter, and the pupil did her teacher great credit.

-There had been silence in the room, except for the click of Peggy's

-knitting-needles, for some minutes, when the little girl suddenly

-dropped her work, and springing to her feet, stood listening intently.</p>

-

-<p>"What is it?" asked Billy, glancing at her quickly, and noting that she

-had grown very pale. "What do you hear?"</p>

-

-<p>"Nothing, now," she answered tremulously. "But I thought—I thought—I

-suppose it was my fancy!"</p>

-

-<p>"What did you think you heard?" he questioned curiously. "Why, you have

-turned quite white! What startled you, Peggy?"</p>

-

-<p>"I thought I heard mother crying, but I suppose I was wrong. I don't

-hear anything now."</p>

-

-<p>Billy went to the door, opened it, and listened; but nothing could be

-heard except a murmur of voices from the music-room. He shut the door

-and returned to the table.</p>

-

-<p>"Why should mother cry?" he demanded, uneasily.</p>

-

-<p>"Didn't you tell me Mr. Maloney said nothing was wrong?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," Peggy responded, "and he wouldn't have deceived us, I know."</p>

-

-<p>"Then mother wouldn't cry for nothing!"</p>

-

-<p>"I expect it was my mistake, Billy."</p>

-

-<p>More than half an hour passed—an hour—and at last the children heard

-the music-room door open and footsteps in the passage. Then the front

-door opened and shut, and a moment afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Pringle

-entered the sitting-room without their visitor.</p>

-

-<p>One glance at his mother told Billy that his sister's sharp ears

-had not deceived her, for there were traces of recent tears on Mrs.

-Pringle's face. She crossed the room and took a chair by her little

-daughter's side, and her voice bespoke strong emotion as she said:</p>

-

-<p>"Peggy, dear, we have decided to tell you what brought Mr. Maloney here

-to-night. Yesterday, he had a visit from Aunt Caroline, who wishes

-to—to—"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, I know!" cried Peggy joyfully, as her mother hesitated. "She

-wishes to be friendly with you, mother! Isn't it that?"</p>

-

-<p>"No, dear," Mrs. Pringle replied sadly. "She has no desire to have

-anything to do with any of us but you. She would like to adopt you,

-Peggy—to have you to live with her—"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh mother!" broke in the little girl. "No! No!"</p>

-

-<p>"That is what she wishes. She offers to bring you up and provide for

-you, and to make you a rich woman some day. But your father and I have

-declined her offer, Peggy darling. We will keep our little daughter and

-trust to Providence to take care of her future."</p>

-

-<p>"You have been crying," said Peggy distressfully, "and I can hear the

-tears in your voice now. Oh, don't cry, mother! What can Aunt Caroline

-be thinking of, to imagine you and father would let her adopt me! As

-though I could leave you all to go and live with her!"</p>

-

-<p>"I knew she was a nasty old woman!" cried Billy, in tones of the

-greatest indignation. "And now I know she is cruel too! It is cruel of

-her to wish to take Peggy away from us! And the idea of her going to

-Mr. Maloney and—"</p>

-

-<p>"Hush, Billy!" admonished Mr. Pringle. "She went to Mr. Maloney because

-she knew he was our friend," he proceeded. "You must not misjudge her;

-certainly she did not mean to be cruel. I have no doubt she imagines

-she is acting kindly; but she does not understand us or realise that

-Peggy would not be happy separated from the members of her own family.

-We have talked over Miss Leighton's offer with Mr. Maloney, and we have

-declined it. I think we are right, and Mr. Maloney thinks so too; but

-he could not well refuse to put Miss Leighton's offer before us, as

-she had made a point of his doing so. To-morrow he will give her our

-reply, and I fear she will be very angry as well as disappointed; but

-we cannot part with our little Sunbeam," he concluded tenderly.</p>

-

-<p>"Did she want me to live with her altogether?" Peggy asked wonderingly,

-taking her mother's hand and holding it in a firm clasp.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, dear. She said you might come home sometimes—that she would not

-object to your coming to see us now and again, but—oh, Peggy, Peggy!"

-And poor Mrs. Pringle caught the little girl in her arms and kissed her

-passionately. "I hope we haven't been selfish," she continued, "but God

-gave you to us, and I cannot think it would be right to give you up

-for the sake of worldly advantages. No, I cannot think that! You have

-always had a happy home, have you not, Peggy?"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, so happy!" the little girl answered earnestly. "Why do you cry,

-mother—when I am not going to leave you?"</p>

-

-<p>"I am very foolish, I dare say," said Mrs. Pringle. "But it hurts me to

-think Aunt Caroline could imagine I would give up my own child."</p>

-

-<p>"Poor woman, she over-estimates the worth of her money," Mr. Pringle

-remarked, with a pitying note in his voice. "She does not understand

-that there are things even in this world not to be purchased with gold."</p>

-

-<p>"Why should she want to adopt me?" questioned Peggy wonderingly,

-turning her flushed face towards her father. "It is not even as though

-I wasn't blind! Why doesn't she adopt some little girl who has no

-mother or father or brother to love her? Why should she want me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Because, somehow, you have touched a soft spot in her heart, little

-Sunbeam," Mr. Pringle answered. "I can think of no other reason. Poor

-Miss Leighton! I am afraid she will be very disappointed when she hears

-we cannot favour her plan."</p>

-

-<p>"Poor Aunt Caroline!" sighed Peggy. "Why can't she be friendly with us

-all, and come and see us and be nice like she was when she came to tea

-at Lower Brimley?" And she shook her head sorrowfully as she thought of

-the old lady, so rich in money, so poor in other ways.</p>

-

-<p>Billy, looking at his sister, wondered at the regretful expression of

-her face. He could not tell, and he certainly would have been amazed,

-had he known that her tender heart was ready to pour a portion of the

-wealth of its affection upon her whom he regarded, not unnaturally,

-as one of the proudest and most disagreeable of people, and he felt

-triumphant as he reflected that Miss Leighton would be disappointed at

-finding herself balked in her selfish plan.</p>

-

-<p>When, on the following day, Miss Leighton heard from Mr. Maloney that

-Mr. and Mrs. Pringle had considered her offer and courteously declined

-it, she made no comment on their decision whatever. But she was even

-more disappointed than Billy had anticipated she would be, and there

-was more of sorrow than of anger in her heart. Briefly she informed

-Barnes that Peggy's parents had refused to allow her to adopt the child.</p>

-

-<p>"You were right, Barnes," she admitted with a sigh. "You thought my

-niece would refuse my offer, did you not?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered briefly. She said no more, for in her

-heart she was confident that Peggy would be better and happier at home.</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>FOR many months, the Pringle family heard no more of Miss Leighton.

-Spring gave place to summer; and in the early autumn Billy paid his

-visit to Cornwall, returning, after a never-to-be forgotten six weeks'

-holiday, with Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy, who spent a short while in London,

-during which time they went to see Miss Leighton, mindful of the

-promise which they had made to her.</p>

-

-<p>But, although the old lady received her Cornish acquaintances with

-every sign of cordiality and pleasure, she never once mentioned Peggy,

-and when Mrs. Tiddy spoke of her, she quickly changed the conversation,

-so that her visitors came to the conclusion that her liking for the

-little blind girl had been merely a passing fancy, and that she had

-lost the interest she had certainly once entertained for the child.

-Such, however, was not the case.</p>

-

-<p>It was the end of September when the Tiddys returned to their Cornish

-home; and shortly afterwards Miss Leighton had a long and serious

-illness, the result of a neglected cold. When she had recovered and

-was able to dispense with the services of the trained nurse, who, with

-Barnes, had nursed her back to health, it was December, and every one

-was preparing for Christmas.</p>

-

-<p>The season of peace and goodwill never brought much happiness to Miss

-Leighton nowadays; but it made many calls upon her purse. And when

-she had written several cheques to be sent to the various charities

-to which she was a regular contributor, she generally considered she

-had done all that could be reasonably expected of her for her fellow

-creatures.</p>

-

-<p>But this year, as she sat by the fire in the drawing-room of her London

-house, one afternoon about a week before Christmas, a sense of unusual

-dissatisfaction with herself began to creep over her. Memory was busy

-with her; and, gazing into the fire, she pictured a little figure clad

-in a shabby blue serge coat and skirt and a Tam o' Shanter cap, and saw

-once more a fair face with a halo of golden curls around it—a happy

-face, beautiful with that inward peace and light which only God can

-give. Then, in her imagination, she heard a clear, child's voice say:</p>

-

-<p>"But I don't think she can be really charitable, if she isn't kind in

-little ways and if she's unforgiving!"</p>

-

-<p>Miss Leighton winced as she recalled the words and the decided tone

-in which they had been uttered. How the child's judgment of her had

-rankled in her heart! It had hurt her at the time it had been given,

-though she had never resented it: it hurt her a great deal more now.</p>

-

-<p>"I would have been kind to Peggy, if her parents would have let me,"

-she thought. "There is nothing I would have denied her. I should like

-to do something to please her—to add to her happiness this Christmas.

-How I should like to see her again! She was such a bright, contented

-little girl! When I was ill, she was continually in my thoughts, and

-one night, I fancied I heard her singing that hymn about light at

-evening time—she has a very sweet voice. I wonder if Margaret would let

-the child come and see me? I hardly like to ask her a favour, but I

-long to see Peggy once more. Ah, here's Barnes!"</p>

-

-<p>The maid had been to match some silks for a piece of fancy-work her

-mistress was making; but Miss Leighton was not in the mood to look at

-her purchases now.</p>

-

-<p>"Sit down, Barnes," she said. "I want to speak to you."</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied, taking a chair and glancing at her

-mistress inquiringly. There was a better understanding between these

-two than there had been formerly, for each had discovered of late, that

-the other had a heart; and Barnes had nursed Miss Leighton devotedly

-during her long illness, a fact Miss Leighton was not likely to forget.</p>

-

-<p>"I suppose the shops are very gay?" Miss Leighton questioned.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, ma'am, they are full of Christmas presents."</p>

-

-<p>"And doubtless you've made some purchases to send to your mother and

-brother?"</p>

-

-<p>Barnes assented, a pleased flush rising to her pale cheeks at the

-unusual kindness of her mistress's tone. She was emboldened to give

-Miss Leighton a list of the articles she had bought to send home to her

-people.</p>

-

-<p>"I pack up a hamper for them every Christmas," she explained in

-conclusion, "and my poor brother is always so excited to see it

-unpacked."</p>

-

-<p>"But would it not be much less trouble to you to send your mother the

-money you spend and let her buy what she wants herself?" Miss Leighton

-inquired.</p>

-

-<p>"Perhaps so, ma'am; but that would not be half so much pleasure to

-mother or to me. I like thinking and planning how I shall fill the

-hamper with those things which I know will be most acceptable, and when

-mother receives it and takes out its contents, she knows I've borne her

-wants in mind. I've knitted her a nice warm shawl, and she'll be much

-prouder of it, because I've made it, than if I'd bought it ready made."</p>

-

-<p>"I see, Barnes. I wonder what sort of Christmas my little grand-niece

-will spend."</p>

-

-<p>Barnes started, and a somewhat guilty expression crossed her

-countenance as she answered hurriedly:</p>

-

-<p>"A very happy one, I expect. Children mostly love Christmas time, and

-she has a very happy home."</p>

-

-<p>"How do you know?" Miss Leighton asked suspiciously.</p>

-

-<p>"I— I've been there, ma'am. I went to St. John's one Sunday afternoon

-to hear Mr. Maloney preach at a children's service, and I saw Miss

-Peggy there with her mother and brother. After the service, outside the

-church, I spoke to them, and Mrs. Pringle asked me to their house to

-have a cup of tea—and I went."</p>

-

-<p>"Well?" said Miss Leighton, with repressed eagerness in her voice.

-"What is the place like?"</p>

-

-<p>"The house, ma'am? It's one of a terrace, very small but comfortable

-and homely. Perhaps I ought to have told you that I'd been there, but I

-did not like to mention it."</p>

-

-<p>"Has my niece altered much?" Miss Leighton asked after a brief pause.</p>

-

-<p>"No, ma'am, very little. She inquired for you and looked so sorry when

-she heard how ill you'd been, and Miss Peggy said—" Barnes paused

-abruptly in some confusion.</p>

-

-<p>"Well, what did Miss Peggy say? I insist upon your telling me."</p>

-

-<p>"She said, 'Poor Aunt Caroline! How dreadful it would have been if she

-had died and we had never known! How I wish she would be friends with

-us all! She used to be so nice in Cornwall.' That's what she said,

-ma'am, shaking her curly head—you remember how she used to do that?

-It's natural she shouldn't understand how you feel towards her mother."</p>

-

-<p>Miss Leighton sighed. During her late illness she had been brought

-face to face with death; and, for the first time, doubts of herself

-had assailed her, and she had seen her unforgiving spirit in its true

-light. Pride had always been her stumbling-block through life; and it

-had been her pride which had suffered when her niece, to whom in her

-way she had really been attached, had elected to marry the hardworking

-music-master who was now the organist of St. John's.</p>

-

-<p>Her only reason for objecting to Mr. Pringle as her niece's husband

-had been because he had been poor. She had always thought so much of

-riches, but they had never brought her happiness; as a matter of fact,

-they had stood between her and her fellow creatures, they had warped

-her sympathies; and sadly and regretfully, the woman of great wealth

-admitted to herself that though she had given her money to clothe the

-naked and feed the poor, it had profited her nothing, for the spirit of

-charity had never been hers.</p>

-

-<p>"I am an old woman, and no one cares for me," she thought. "The love I

-might have had, I deliberately put away. I should not be lonely to-day,

-if I had not cast Margaret aside when she married. How she wept when I

-said I would never willingly look on her face again, and I thought it

-was my money she was regretting, not me!"</p>

-

-<p>Aloud she said:</p>

-

-<p>"Does Mr. Maloney hold a children's service every Sunday afternoon,

-Barnes?"</p>

-

-<p>Then, as Barnes assented, she continued: "I have heard high praises of

-his preaching, and I should like to hear one of his sermons. If I go to

-St. John's next Sunday afternoon, will you accompany me?"</p>

-

-<p>"Certainly, ma'am," Barnes responded promptly, her face showing the

-intense amazement she felt. She regarded her mistress with anxious

-scrutiny, marvelling at the softened expression on her countenance. She

-hoped she was not going to be ill again.</p>

-

-<p>"Perhaps we shall see Miss Peggy there," she proceeded; "but, if so,

-I expect her mother will be with her. I suppose you will not speak to

-them, ma'am?"</p>

-

-<p>"I cannot tell," Miss Leighton answered musingly. "I—I shall be guided

-by circumstances."</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, ma'am!" cried Barnes eagerly. "Don't be angry with me for saying

-this; but, if you could bring yourself to forgive Mrs. Pringle—"</p>

-

-<p>"That will do," broke in Miss Leighton with a return of her usual

-imperious manner. "I can imagine what you were about to say. No, I'm

-not angry. You're a well-meaning soul, Barnes, but—you may go!"</p>

-

-<p>Barnes needed no second bidding. She slipped quietly out of the room,

-fearing she had done more harm than good; whilst Miss Leighton leaned

-back in her easy chair, a prey to anxious thoughts. She had said she

-would go to St. John's on the following Sunday, and she meant to keep

-her word, for she really was curious to hear Mr. Maloney preach, and

-she hoped she might at any rate catch a glimpse of Peggy, though she

-determined, now, that she would not speak to her. How could she ignore

-the mother and notice the child?</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<h3><a id="Chapter_14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h3>

-

-<p class="t3">

-<em>CONCLUSION</em><br>

-</p>

-

-<p><br></p>

-

-<p>IT was Sunday afternoon. The children's service at St. John's was

-nearly at an end; and now the Vicar had ascended into the pulpit to

-address a few simple words to his congregation before giving out the

-number of the concluding hymn. He took for his text the Saviour's

-promise, "He that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness," and, in

-the first place, reminded his hearers that in a very few days, they

-would be commemorating the birth of Him Who is called "The Light of the

-World." Would they not try to follow Him? he asked.</p>

-

-<p>Then he pictured the childhood of Jesus, and many a pair of bright

-young eyes grew earnest and thoughtful as their owners' interest was

-chained by the story which the Vicar knew so well how to tell, pointing

-out to the children that the Christ-Child should be their pattern,

-that, like Him, they should be good, and kind, and obedient. And that,

-if they trusted in Him, He would be their Saviour and their Friend.</p>

-

-<p>Finally, he explained that darkness meant selfishness and sin, and that

-the child who was untruthful, or dishonest, or unkind, was walking in

-darkness, apart from God. And that to follow Jesus, they must learn to

-be gentle, and pitiful, and loving, and faithful in word and deed: then

-would Christ's promise be for them—"He that followeth Me shall not walk

-in darkness!"</p>

-

-<p>It was a very short sermon, but so simple that no child could fail to

-understand it; and when it was over, and the Vicar descended from the

-pulpit, Peggy Pringle, who, seated by her brother's side, had listened

-to every word Mr. Maloney had said with the closest attention, turned

-her face to Billy with a pleased smile curving her lips, and thus

-allowed an old lady close behind her, a sight of her profile.</p>

-

-<p>The old lady, who was no other than Miss Leighton, felt her heart begin

-to beat unevenly as she recognised Peggy. She had been on the lookout

-for her all through the service; but the church was so full of children

-that she had not picked out her little great-niece amongst so many, and

-lo! All the while she had been within reach of her hand.</p>

-

-<p>In another minute the congregation had arisen, and with a dream-like

-sensation, Miss Leighton once more listened to the same hymn Peggy had

-sung to her in Cornwall months before:</p>

-

-<p class="poem">

-<br>"Holy Father, cheer our way<br>

-&nbsp;With Thy love's perpetual ray:<br>

-&nbsp;Grant us every closing day<br>

-&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Light at evening time."<br>

-<br>

-</p>

-

-<p>Tears dimmed the old lady's eyes, and a softening influence stole

-into her proud heart; and when, at the conclusion of the hymn, the

-congregation knelt in prayer, Miss Leighton covered her face with her

-hands and prayed fervently that she, who had walked in darkness so

-long, might be guided into the way of light.</p>

-

-<p>"Barnes, I must speak to Peggy," she said in an agitated voice, as she

-and her maid left the church and stood under the lamp outside. "Do not

-let her pass us by."</p>

-

-<p>"She is with her brother, ma'am," Barnes answered. "I do not think Mrs.

-Pringle is here."</p>

-

-<p>At that instant Peggy and Billy appeared, hand in hand, and Miss

-Leighton stepped quickly forward; but, immediately, Billy put himself

-between her and his sister.</p>

-

-<p>"Go away!" he cried indignantly, for he had recognised Miss Leighton,

-and the wild idea that she might wish to lure Peggy away from him, then

-and there had flashed through his mind. "I'm not going to let you touch

-her!"</p>

-

-<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Leighton in surprise. "Peggy! It's

-I—Aunt Caroline! Won't you speak to me, child?"</p>

-

-<p>At the sound of the well-remembered voice the little girl flushed

-rosily, a look of astonishment and—Miss Leighton saw she was not

-mistaken—of joy lighting up her face; seeing which, Billy allowed her

-to receive the old lady's warm embrace, though he still retained a firm

-grasp of her hand.</p>

-

-<p>"How are you, Peggy?" Miss Leighton began. "You look very well," she

-continued, without waiting for a reply. "We—Barnes and I—came to hear

-your friend Mr. Maloney preach, and I thought I should like a word with

-you. We sat close behind you in church."</p>

-

-<p>"Did you?" said Peggy, smiling. "Wasn't it a nice sermon? And we had my

-favourite hymn! Oh, Aunt Caroline," she proceeded sympathetically, "we

-were so sorry to hear you had been ill. Are you really quite well now?

-Yes. Oh, I'm so glad! Oh, Barnes, how do you do? Aunt Caroline, this is

-Billy. Billy, you remember Aunt Caroline, don't you? You know you saw

-her once before and you said you would know her again."</p>

-

-<p>Billy had no alternative but to shake hands with Miss Leighton. And,

-now he came to regard her more closely, she did not look the sort of

-person who would steal his sister from him. He thought he read goodwill

-towards himself in her face, as he scrutinised it in the light of the

-lamp near which they were standing, and she showed no resentment for

-the decidedly rude way in which he had treated her, the real fact

-being that she had guessed the impulse which had prompted his strange

-behaviour. For some minutes, he watched her talking to Peggy whilst

-Barnes stood aside patiently waiting. Then, he reminded his sister that

-if they did not go home, their mother would wonder what had become of

-them.</p>

-

-<p>"Yes," agreed Peggy, "we mustn't wait any longer. Mother's at home

-alone—it's Sarah's afternoon out—and she's always anxious if we're

-later than she expects us."</p>

-

-<p>"One moment more," said Miss Leighton. "I must wish you a very happy

-Christmas before we part, and I want you to tell me what I can give

-you for a present. Choose whatever you like. And Billy—he must choose

-something too!"</p>

-

-<p>"Oh, how kind of you!" cried Peggy. Whilst Billy's eyes glistened

-with delight, and a look of approval settled on his face—approval of

-this great-aunt of his, against whom he had entertained such a strong

-prejudice before.</p>

-

-<p>"I want to do something to add to your happiness," Miss Leighton said,

-in a voice which trembled with an emotion which she tried in vain to

-repress.</p>

-

-<p>"Do you, Aunt Caroline?" the little girl questioned earnestly. "Do you,

-indeed?"</p>

-

-<p>"Yes, my dear—"</p>

-

-<p>"Then if you really and truly want to add to my happiness," Peggy broke

-in excitedly, "you'll come home with us now—we've not far to go—and be

-friends with mother again! Oh, do come! It grieves mother dreadfully to

-think you're angry with her! But, you're not angry any longer, are you?"</p>

-

-<p>Miss Leighton could not say she was, for her bitterness against Peggy's

-mother had been slowly fading away since she had known Peggy herself.

-Her head was in a whirl with conflicting thoughts. But she felt she

-must accept or decline her little niece's invitation at once—she could

-not discuss it there in the street.</p>

-

-<p>"My dear, I cannot—" she was beginning, when a rush of tenderer,

-better feelings than she had experienced for years filled her heart

-and caused her to hesitate. She looked at Peggy's expectant face with

-its sightless blue eyes, and the last remnant of her pride died away,

-though she repeated, "I cannot, I cannot!"</p>

-

-<p>But the sharp ears of the blind child had caught the note of indecision

-in the other's tone, and taking the old lady by the hand she said

-persuasively:</p>

-

-<p>"Come, Aunt Caroline, we will go on, and Barnes and Billy will follow.

-I know the way quite well. Oh, do come!"</p>

-

-<p>And, much to Barnes's astonishment, and Billy's intense excitement,

-Miss Leighton answered in a voice which no longer wavered, but had

-become decided and firm:</p>

-

-<p>"To please you, little Sunbeam, I will!"</p>

-

-<p>

-<br>

-&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

-&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;

-&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

-&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br>

-<br>

-</p>

-

-<p>"Here's wonderful news from the Pringles!" exclaimed Mrs. Tiddy on

-Christmas morning, as she stood in the hall at Lower Brimley, ready

-to start for church with her husband, and glanced hastily through the

-letter she held in her hand—one of several which the postman had just

-delivered. "I cannot stay to read all Margaret says now, but I see she

-has had a visit from her aunt, and there must have been a complete

-reconciliation, for—fancy, Ebenezer!—the old lady is going to dine with

-them to-day!"</p>

-

-<p>"I'm heartily glad to hear it," Mr. Tiddy responded. "Depend upon it,

-Peggy has brought that about—the reconciliation, I mean. But come, my

-dear, or we shall be late for church."</p>

-

-<p>Then as they passed down the garden path, side by side, he continued:</p>

-

-<p>"I always felt there was One above Who arranged that Miss Leighton and

-Peggy should meet here and get to know each other. I expect the old

-lady will have a happier Christmas to-day than she has had for many a

-long year."</p>

-

-<p>And Mr. Tiddy was right, for this year, Miss Leighton found fresh

-beauty in the angels' message of peace and goodwill, and her Christmas

-Day was a very happy one, spent in her niece's home. God had softened

-her proud heart by the unconscious influence of the blind child, and He

-was granting her light in the evening time of her life. Miss Leighton

-had never felt so rich before as she did on this Christmas Day.</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<p>PRINTED BY</p>

-

-<p>SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE</p>

-

-<p>LONDON</p>

-

-<p><br><br><br></p>

-

-<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE SUNBEAM ***</div>

-</body>

-</html>

+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
+    <title>
+      Little Sunbeam, by Eleanora H. Stooke—A Project Gutenberg eBook
+    </title>
+   <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover">
+    <style>
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+    font-size:12.0pt;
+    font-family:"Verdana";
+}
+
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+hr {
+    width: 33%;
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    margin-bottom: 2em;
+    margin-left: 33.5%;
+    margin-right: 33.5%;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+/* Images */
+
+img {
+    max-width: 100%;
+    height: auto;
+}
+
+.figcenter {
+    margin: auto;
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+    font-size: 150%;
+    text-align: center
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+
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+    text-indent: 0%;
+    font-size: 100%;
+    text-align: center
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+    text-indent: 0%;
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+    text-align: center
+    }
+
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+    text-indent: 0%;
+    font-size: 80%;
+    text-align: center
+    }
+
+p.poem {
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+    width: 55em}
+
+    </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE SUNBEAM ***</div>
+
+<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001">
+</figure>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 29.875em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002">
+</figure>
+<p class="t4">
+<b>THE CORNISH FLOWER-FARM.</b><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h1><em>LITTLE SUNBEAM</em></h1>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+BY<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t1">
+<em>ELEANORA H. STOOKE</em><br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+<em>AUTHOR OF "GRANFER," ETC.</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>WITH FRONTISPIECE BY MYRA K. HUGHES</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+LONDON<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+NATIONAL SOCIETY'S DEPOSITORY<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+BROAD SANCTUARY, WESTMINSTER<br>
+NEW YORK: THOMAS WHITTAKER, 2 &amp; 3 BIBLE HOUSE<br>
+<br>
+[All rights reserved]<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+
+
+<p class="t4">
+PRINTED BY<br>
+SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE<br>
+LONDON<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+
+
+<p class="t3">
+BY THE SAME AUTHOR<br>
+<br>
+GRANFER, and ONE CHRISTMAS TIME.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+Price 1s.<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t3">
+NATIONAL SOCIETY'S DEPOSITORY,<br>
+</p>
+
+<p class="t4">
+Sanctuary, Westminster, S. W.<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t3b">
+CONTENTS<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>CHAPTER</p>
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_1">I. KNOCKED DOWN</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_2">II. CONCERNING AUNT CAROLINE</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_3">III. THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_4">IV. PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_5">V. AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_6">VI. MISS LEIGHTON'S DISCOVERY</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_7">VII. A GREAT SURPRISE</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_8">VIII. CONCERNING ELLEN BARNES</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_9">IX. TEA AT LOWER BRIMLEY</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_10">X. GOOD-BYES</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_11">XI. HOME AGAIN</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_12">XII. AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_13">XIII. PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS</a></p>
+
+<p><a href="#Chapter_14">XIV. CONCLUSION</a></p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p class="t2">
+<em>LITTLE SUNBEAM</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>KNOCKED DOWN</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"COME along, Billy. Mother said we were not to be long; and I'm sure
+we've been more than half an hour."</p>
+
+<p>The speaker—a little girl of about nine years old, clad in a somewhat
+shabby blue serge coat and skirt, with a Tam o' Shanter cap on her
+golden curls—tried to pull her brother away from the toy shop window
+into which he was gazing longingly; but he resisted, and still lingered.</p>
+
+<p>"There's plenty of time, Peggy," he assured her. "You know we never
+have tea till five o'clock, and you can't imagine what a heap of jolly
+things there are in this window. I wish you could see them."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish I could," she answered. "Never mind, you can tell me all about
+them by-and-by."</p>
+
+<p>It was a cold, dull, February day; but it did not rain, and the street
+was thronged with vehicles, whilst the pedestrians—mostly of the lower
+classes, for the district was a poor one—hustled against each other
+on the pavements. No one took any notice of the two children who had
+been standing before a toy shop window for the last ten minutes. And,
+indeed, there was nothing about them to attract the observation of a
+casual observer, although the countenance of the little girl, with its
+finely-cut features and sweet expression, possessed a delicate beauty
+which was certainly out of the common. No one looking at Peggy Pringle
+would have guessed that she was blind, for her eyes, in colour the
+darkest blue, were as clear as crystal; but the sad fact was that the
+blessing of sight was denied to her.</p>
+
+<p>It had been a terrible trouble to the child's parents when, some months
+after her birth, they had learnt the truth, that the happy baby, whose
+rosebud lips seemed formed only for smiles, and whose eyes were "bits
+of Heaven's blue" as her young mother had used to declare, would never
+see the light of day, and they had grieved deeply. But Peggy had never
+appeared to realise how great was her affliction, and at the present
+time it would have been difficult, if not impossible, to find a more
+contented little girl. "Little Sunbeam" her father had nicknamed her
+years before, and a veritable sunbeam in the household she continued to
+be.</p>
+
+<p>Peggy and her brother, who was only thirteen months her junior, had
+been sent to buy buns for tea, and she was holding the bag which
+contained them with one hand, whilst with the other she kept a firm
+grip of Billy's coat. She was not exactly nervous in a crowd, for she
+had been accustomed to London all her life, and her home was in a
+thickly populated district. But she experienced a sense of bewilderment
+as she listened to the hurrying footsteps on the pavement and the
+continual roll of carriage wheels, and she wished Billy would tire of
+looking into shop windows and return home.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Billy," she urged again, "mother will wonder what is keeping us.
+Do come."</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, Billy took his sister by the hand with an air of
+protection, and they walked on. At the corner of the street, they stood
+waiting for a favourable opportunity to cross.</p>
+
+<p>"Is there a policeman near?" asked Peggy.</p>
+
+<p>"There's one on the other side of the road," replied Billy, "but we
+don't want him. I can manage all right. When I say 'Now,' mind you come
+right on."</p>
+
+<p>A minute later Billy cried, "Now!"</p>
+
+<p>So, hand in hand, the children went fearlessly forward. And they would
+have effected the crossing in safety had not a private carriage, drawn
+by a pair of spirited horses, turned the corner from a side street.
+Billy hurried his sister on; but the road was slippery, and, in her
+haste, the little girl stumbled and let go her brother's hand. Some
+one flung Billy on one side, whilst the coachman driving the pair of
+horses pulled them back on their haunches in time to prevent a serious
+accident, but not before one of the animals had struck poor Peggy on
+the shoulder with its hoof. She was borne to the pavement in the arms
+of the policeman whose help Billy had disdained, and in a few minutes a
+small crowd had congregated.</p>
+
+<p>"What has happened?" inquired an imperious voice from the interior of
+the carriage. "Is any one injured?"</p>
+
+<p>"A little girl," answered the policeman. "I think she's more frightened
+than hurt, though," he added, as he set Peggy on the ground, and Billy,
+pale and frightened, rushed to her side.</p>
+
+<p>"Was my coachman at fault?" was the next question.</p>
+
+<p>"No, ma'am. He was driving carefully, and had the horses under proper
+control; but—"</p>
+
+<p>"That's all I want to know, thank you."</p>
+
+<p>A head was thrust out of the carriage window, and the crowd saw the
+face—a haughty, handsome face it was—of a white-haired old lady, who
+beckoned to the policeman to approach, which he did.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better take the little girl to a hospital, if she is hurt,"
+the old lady said, in a tone which expressed neither interest nor
+sympathy. "I suppose that would be your duty? Well, you know your
+business; it is none of mine, as my servant, you assure me, is
+blameless. However, here is my card should you require to communicate
+with me."</p>
+
+<p>The handsome old face drew back from the window, and the carriage was
+driven away, whilst the crowd dispersed, leaving only the policeman and
+one other—an elderly clergyman, who had come upon the scene after the
+accident—with the frightened children.</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you hurt, my dear little girl?"</p>
+
+<p>Peggy's shocked face brightened at the sound of the kindly voice, which
+she recognised immediately as belonging to Mr. Maloney, the Vicar of
+St. John's Church, where her father was the organist.</p>
+
+<p>"It's my shoulder," she answered. "Oh, Mr. Maloney, do please take me
+home!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I will, my dear," he responded promptly, with a reassuring
+nod and smile at Billy. "What happened?" he inquired of the policeman,
+who briefly explained, adding that no one had been in fault.</p>
+
+<p>"Billy couldn't have helped it," Peggy said hastily, fearful lest blame
+should be attached to her brother.</p>
+
+<p>"No, the little boy was not to blame," agreed the policeman. "Are you
+going to take charge of the children, sir?" he asked of the clergyman.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. I know them well; their father is Mr. Pringle, the organist of
+St. John's Church. What is this?" Mr. Maloney questioned as he took the
+card the policeman presented to him.</p>
+
+<p>"The lady in the carriage gave it to me, sir. I have made a note of the
+name and the address. Maybe the little girl's father will make some
+claim—"</p>
+
+<p>"I imagine not," interposed the clergyman quickly; "but I will take the
+card and give it to Mr. Pringle. Thank you,"—and he slipped the bit of
+pasteboard into his vest pocket.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Billy, I dropped the buns!" exclaimed Peggy regretfully. They had
+no money to buy more, and the buns had been purchased for a treat.</p>
+
+<p>"The horses trod on them," Billy replied; "but, never mind, mother
+won't think anything about them when she knows what's happened. I'm
+afraid she'll never trust you out alone with me any more."</p>
+
+<p>The little girl made no response. The pain in her shoulder was making
+her feel sick and faint, and her legs trembled as she walked along by
+Mr. Maloney's side, her hand in his. He saw she was suffering, and
+regarded her with compassionate eyes, whilst he exchanged remarks
+with Billy. Soon she began to lose the drift of her companions'
+conversation, and when at length, home—a small house, one of a
+terrace—was reached, the shock she had received proved too much for
+her, and she fell insensible into her mother's arms.</p>
+
+<p>When Peggy regained consciousness, she found herself undressed and
+in bed. Everything was very quiet, but she was aware of some one's
+presence, and it was no surprise when soft lips met hers in a loving
+kiss, and her mother's voice said, "You are better, Peggy dear."</p>
+
+<p>Then she was gently raised in bed, and, to her astonishment, she found
+her shoulder was bandaged; but she was not in much pain now, so she
+took the bread and milk offered to her, and lay down again, feeling
+strangely weak and tired, and disinclined to talk.</p>
+
+<p>"Sleep if you can, darling," her mother said tenderly. "You will be
+much stronger to-morrow. The doctor has attended to your poor shoulder.
+Thank God you are not more seriously hurt!"</p>
+
+<p>"What is the time mother?" Peggy asked. "Have you had tea? I was so
+sorry about the buns. I dropped them, you know."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you? As if that mattered! No, we have not had tea. We have been
+too anxious about you to think of it. Now we shall have tea and supper
+together. It is nearly seven o'clock—not quite your usual bedtime, but
+never mind that to-night. Rest will do you good. I want you to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"I am very tired," Peggy murmured, "but I haven't said my prayers,
+and my head feels so funny that I can't think. I will say my 'little
+prayer' to-night.' Then she repeated very slowly and softly:</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>"Holy Father, cheer our way<br>
+&nbsp;With Thy love's perpetual ray:<br>
+&nbsp;Grant us every closing day<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Light at evening time."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>It was a pathetic prayer, coming as it did from the lips of one who
+lived in permanent darkness. But it had been one of the first Peggy had
+learnt and she had always been very fond of it, calling it her "little
+prayer." To-night her eyelids closed as she repeated the last line, and
+a few minutes later she had fallen asleep.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Pringle remained by the bedside some while longer, tears, which
+she had repressed till now, running down her cheeks, though her heart
+was full of gratitude to Him Who had spared her child's life. She was a
+most affectionate mother, devoted to both her children; but her little
+daughter, doubtless by reason of her affliction, was always her first
+care. She shuddered as she thought what might have been the result of
+the accident that afternoon, and pictured her darling trampled beneath
+the horses' hoofs.</p>
+
+<p>"God gave His angels charge over her," she murmured, as she bent her
+head once more, and kissed the little sleeper. Then she stole softly
+away, and went downstairs to the sitting-room where Billy his father
+were keeping each other company, both heavy-hearted, though the doctor
+had assured them there was no cause for alarm.</p>
+
+<p>"How is she now?" they asked, with one accord, as she entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Sleeping peacefully," she told them, a smile lighting up her pale,
+tearful countenance. "You may go and look at her; but please be very
+careful not to disturb her. I have every hope that she will be better
+after a good rest. We have much to thank God for this night!"</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>CONCERNING AUNT CAROLINE</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>WHEN Mr. Pringle and Billy returned to the sitting-room after having
+been upstairs to look at Peggy asleep so comfortably, they found that
+Mrs. Pringle, with the assistance of Sarah, the maid-of-all-work of the
+establishment, had prepared the long-delayed tea. Whilst the family sat
+down to the meal, Sarah, at her own suggestion, went to keep watch by
+the little sleeper; and a few minutes later there was a knock at the
+front door.</p>
+
+<p>"Go and see who's there, Billy," said Mr. Pringle. "I should not be
+surprised if it is Mr. Maloney," he proceeded, turning to his wife,
+"for he was very concerned about Peggy and said he hoped to look in
+by-and-by to hear the doctor's report."</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Maloney the visitor proved to be. He accepted Mrs. Pringle's
+offer of a cup of tea, and took the chair Billy placed for him at the
+table.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad to know the doctor thinks your little girl is not much
+hurt," he said in his pleasant voice. "Billy greeted me with the good
+news the moment he opened the door."</p>
+
+<p>"The only injury she has sustained is to her shoulder," replied Mr.
+Pringle, "but of course she has experienced a great shock. Her escape
+from a frightful death was quite providential," he added with a slight
+break in his voice.</p>
+
+<p>"Quite," Mr. Maloney agreed. "It was too bad of the owner of the
+carriage to drive on, as she did, without ascertaining the extent of
+the poor child's injuries," he continued warmly. "The least she could
+have done, under the circumstances, one would have thought, would have
+been to have driven her home."</p>
+
+<p>"She was a nasty old woman, I'm sure she was," declared Billy with
+flushing cheeks and sparkling eyes. "She told the policeman, he had
+better take Peggy to a hospital if she was hurt, and she said it was
+his business, not hers. She spoke in such a proud way—as though she
+didn't care for anything or any one."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Peggy found a friend in need," Mr. Pringle remarked with a
+grateful glance at Mr. Maloney, who smiled and said he was glad to have
+been of service.</p>
+
+<p>The Vicar and the organist of St. John's were on terms of friendship,
+though the former was elderly and the latter not middle-aged. Mr.
+Maloney had lived most of his life in London. He was a hard worker,
+and much beloved by all who knew him. But some of his acquaintances
+declared him lacking in ambition, for on several occasions he had
+declined preferment, choosing to retain the living of St. John's, which
+he had held for more than twenty years. He was an unmarried man, and
+consequently the living, though a poor one, supplied his simple needs.</p>
+
+<p>He was getting an old man now, but the bright, unquenchable light of
+that enthusiasm which had made him a faithful labourer in Christ's
+vineyard all his days still shone in his earnest, deep-set eyes, and
+earnestness was stamped indelibly upon his countenance. And the truth
+was that his ambition soared far and away beyond the worldly meaning of
+the term: he was working for the "Well done" of the Master for Whose
+sake he had elected to live amongst those of little account in this
+world.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Pringle had been the organist of St. John's since his marriage ten
+years previously. He was a tall, fair man with a thoughtful face and
+clear blue eyes. Peggy much resembled him; whilst Billy took after his
+mother in appearance, being brown-haired and brown-eyed. The Pringles
+were a very united family, and theirs was a happy home though it was
+a rather poor one, and Mr. Pringle was glad to add to his salary by
+taking music pupils.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not see the owner of the carriage," Mr. Maloney remarked
+by-and-by, after they had discussed Peggy's accident at some length.
+"Why, dear me, how stupid of me!" he exclaimed, a sudden recollection
+crossing his mind. "I have her card in my pocket here! She gave it
+to the policeman, who, in his turn, gave it to me, thinking that you
+might be inclined to seek redress from her for poor Peggy's injuries, I
+believe. Let us see who the unsympathetic old lady is."</p>
+
+<p>He had produced the card by this time, and now handed it to Mrs.
+Pringle, who glanced at it, uttered a cry of astonishment, and grew
+very red.</p>
+
+<p>"You know her?" Mr. Maloney inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she replied in a low tone, "I do. I can understand that she
+evinced no interest—though she could not have known whose child Peggy
+was."</p>
+
+<p>She passed the card to her husband as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>A brief silence followed, during which Billy, keenly observant, noticed
+that his mother was trembling, and that his father's face had grown
+very stern.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is the lady, father?" he ventured to ask at length.</p>
+
+<p>"She is called Miss Leighton," was the answer. "You never heard of her,
+Billy; but I expect you have?" he said, addressing Mr. Maloney.</p>
+
+<p>"I think not," the Vicar responded. "Is she a person of importance?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is a very rich woman. Her father was James Leighton, the great
+ironfounder who died so immensely wealthy—"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, then I have heard of her," Mr. Maloney broke in. "But I thought
+she was quite a philanthropist—hardly the sort of woman who would act
+as this Miss Leighton did to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"That is exactly how she would act," Mrs. Pringle said decidedly. "We
+are speaking of the same person. She gives away vast amounts of money
+yearly to charities, but she denies herself nothing in order to do so,
+for she is very wealthy. She was never a woman who showed kindness in
+little ways or to individuals. I know her well; in fact, she is my
+aunt."</p>
+
+<p>"Really?" the Vicar said, looking intensely astonished. He knew the
+Pringles were not well off—that they lived solely on Mr. Pringle's
+earnings, and it seemed odd that so rich and charitable a lady as Miss
+Leighton should do so much for strangers and nothing for her relations.</p>
+
+<p>"The truth is, my wife offended her aunt by marrying me," Mr. Pringle
+explained, rightly reading the expression of Mr. Maloney's countenance;
+"and Miss Leighton never forgives any one who offends her."</p>
+
+<p>"Then God help her!" the Vicar exclaimed solemnly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Mrs. Pringle, sighing, "poor Aunt Caroline! She was very
+good to me years ago, she had me educated when my parents died, and
+afterwards she allowed me to live with her. She would have continued
+to provide for me, if I had not become engaged to John," glancing at
+her husband with a loving smile. "I had to choose between him and Aunt
+Caroline, and since my marriage I have never seen my aunt. 'She washed
+her hands of me,' she said, on my wedding day. She declared she would
+never willingly look on my face again, and I know she will keep her
+word."</p>
+
+<p>"You can realise now what sacrifices my wife has made for my sake," Mr.
+Pringle said, rather sadly, as he met Mr. Maloney's interested glance.</p>
+
+<p>"I have made no sacrifices," Mrs. Pringle returned quickly. "But,
+sometimes it grieves me to think of the bitter feelings Aunt Caroline
+harbours against me. She considers me ungrateful; I was never that. I
+do not want her money, but I should like to be on friendly terms with
+her. It was ten years ago I saw her; she must be getting an old woman."</p>
+
+<p>"She looked very old, mother," Billy said, and as he spoke, Mrs.
+Pringle started, for in the excitement of talking of her aunt, whom she
+rarely mentioned now even to her husband, she had forgotten the boy was
+present, listening to every word.</p>
+
+<p>"Her hair was quite white," he continued, "as white as snow. I didn't
+like her eyes, they were so very sharp. Oh, mother, how odd that she
+should be your aunt! And how surprised she would have been, if she had
+found out that Peggy was your little girl, wouldn't she? I expect she
+would have been sorry for her, then, don't you think so?"</p>
+
+<p>"I—I—perhaps so," his mother replied, "but she did not find out, and it
+was best as it was."</p>
+
+<p>She took up the card which her husband had laid on the table and tore
+it into little bits, which, upon rising, she threw into the fire.</p>
+
+<p>"There, we will talk no more of Aunt Caroline," she said. "Thinking of
+her always makes me unhappy, and I don't want to be that to-night, when
+I ought to be feeling nothing but thankfulness on Peggy's account."</p>
+
+<p>A short while later, Mr. Maloney took his departure, and, after that,
+Billy said good-night to his parents and went upstairs. He peeped into
+Peggy's room; but did not go in, for Sarah, who was still watching by
+the bedside, raised a warning finger when she caught sight of him in
+the doorway. She was to be relieved from her post very soon by her
+mistress, whose intention it was to sit up all night.</p>
+
+<p>Although Billy was really tired and was soon in bed, it was long before
+he could get to sleep, for he felt strangely restless and excited; he
+continually pictured the pair of high-stepping horses which had so
+nearly trodden his sister beneath their hoofs, and he was haunted by
+the proud face of the old lady who had appeared so unconcerned.</p>
+
+<p>"She must be very wicked," thought the little boy, "for father said she
+never forgives any one who offends her. How dreadful that is! Doesn't
+she know it's wrong, I wonder! And, oh, how strange that she should be
+mother's aunt! How surprised Peggy will be when she knows!"</p>
+
+<p>Then he forgot Miss Leighton in thinking of Peggy once more. He had not
+omitted to thank his Father in Heaven, as he had knelt by his bedside
+before getting into bed, for having spared his sister's life; but
+his full heart thanked Him again and again as he lay awake mentally
+reviewing the events of the last few hours, and he fell asleep, at
+length, with the fervent prayer upon his lips:</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>
+"Dear Jesus, please always take care of Peggy, and remember she is
+blind."<br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>THE DOCTOR'S PRESCRIPTION</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>A MONTH had elapsed since Peggy's accident, and the little girl, though
+about again, had not recovered her usual health and spirits. Her mother
+watched her with loving solicitude, noting how shattered her nerves
+seemed to be, for she started at any sudden sound and dreaded being
+left alone. The doctor pronounced her to be suffering from the effects
+of the shock to her nervous system, prescribed a complete change of
+air, and said time would work a cure.</p>
+
+<p>"How can we send her away for a change?" Mrs. Pringle asked her husband
+despairingly. "It is impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"I wish you could take her to the seaside for a few weeks, Margaret,"
+Mr. Pringle responded, looking much troubled. "But I really do not see
+how it can be managed—where the money is to come from, I mean."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, father," Peggy said quickly, "I am sure I shall be well
+soon. I am a lot better, really."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you feel so, darling?" he questioned, as he drew her towards him,
+and anxiously scrutinised her face.</p>
+
+<p>Then, as she assured him she did, he kissed her gently, an expression
+of deep pain and regret on his own countenance.</p>
+
+<p>It grieved Mr. Pringle that he could not afford his little daughter
+the change of air which the doctor had prescribed, and he went off to
+give a music lesson with a very heavy heart. When he returned, an hour
+later, upon opening the front door the sound of a man's hearty laugh
+fell upon his ears, and almost immediately Peggy, with a flush of
+excitement on her cheeks, came out of the sitting-room, her sensitive
+ears having warned her of his arrival, and whispered:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, father, we've a visitor! Guess who it is. But, no, you never will,
+so I may as well tell you. It's Mr. Tiddy. You remember who he is,
+don't you? The Cornish gentleman who married Miss Bates."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Pringle, suddenly enlightened. Miss Bates had
+been a school friend of his wife's. The two had always corresponded
+regularly, though they had not met of late. Miss Bates had earned her
+living as a governess until five years previously, when she had married
+a well-to-do farmer in Cornwall.</p>
+
+<p>"He is a very nice man, father," Peggy continued, "and he's brought us
+a hamper full of all sorts of good things to eat—cream, and butter, and
+eggs, and a big cake, which his wife made herself, with a sugary top,
+and a couple of chickens! Do come and see him at once."</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly Mr. Pringle allowed his little daughter to lead him into
+the sitting-room, where the visitor was being entertained by Mrs.
+Pringle and Billy, and after a few minutes' conversation with him, he
+mentally agreed with Peggy that this new acquaintance was a very nice
+man.</p>
+
+<p>Ebenezer Tiddy was a thorough countryman in appearance, being clad
+in a tweed suit, and boots which had evidently been made to keep out
+inches deep of mud. He was tall and vigorous, with a ruddy, kindly
+countenance, and steady grey eyes which looked one straight in the
+face. He had entered the house a complete stranger half an hour before,
+but already the children were at their ease with him, and Mrs. Pringle
+was looking decidedly more cheerful than when her husband had left her
+after their conversation about the doctor's prescription. Mr. Pringle
+felt glad Mr. Tiddy had come, since his presence had evidently proved
+exhilarating.</p>
+
+<p>"I arrived in town last night," the visitor explained, "and the first
+thing this morning I said to myself, 'I'd better execute my wife's
+business before I attend to my own.' And now you're here, Mr. Pringle,
+I'll speak of the real object of my visit. Said my wife to me one day
+last week, 'Ebenezer, how I should like to have little Peggy Pringle
+to stay with us for a while! Her mother has written to me that she met
+with an accident and doesn't seem to pick up after it as she ought. I
+believe a change of air would be the best medicine for her now.'"</p>
+
+<p>Here Mr. Tiddy paused, and looked at Peggy, who, sensitive like all
+blind people, was fully conscious of his gaze.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mr. Tiddy!" she exclaimed. "And—what did you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"That she'd better write and invite you to visit us at once, my dear,
+believing, as I do, that Cornish breezes and Cornish living would
+make you strong in no time. 'But she can't travel alone,' said my
+wife, who is quicker of thought than I am, 'and how are we to get her
+here, Ebenezer?' 'That can be easily managed,' I replied; 'when I go
+to London next week to interview the florist who is going to buy our
+flowers this spring, I'll ask her parents to trust her to me.' And
+if they will," concluded Mr. Tiddy, looking smilingly first at Mrs.
+Pringle, then at her husband, "I am sure I shall be very pleased and
+proud, and my wife and myself will do our best to make her visit a
+happy one. The little maid won't have any children for playmates, but
+I don't think she'll be dull, for there's always something or other to
+interest folks at a farm, and I need hardly say we'll take good care of
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"How kind you are!" Mrs. Pringle exclaimed, her face alight with
+pleasure, "Peggy does indeed need a change very badly, and we have been
+bemoaning the fact that we could not give her one. I am sure she would
+be quite happy with you and your wife."</p>
+
+<p>"I remember Miss Bates," said Peggy. "She stayed with us once when I
+was a little girl."</p>
+
+<p>"And what are you now, pray?" asked Mr. Tiddy, highly amused. "A big
+girl, eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am nine years old," she answered, in a dignified tone. "But I am not
+very tall for my age."</p>
+
+<p>"Cornish air will make you grow. Will you make up your mind, then, to
+travel westwards with me? Would your brother care to come too?"</p>
+
+<p>"Billy goes to school, and it is the middle of the term," Mrs. Pringle
+explained; "being Saturday, it is the weekly holiday: that is why you
+find him at home now. You are very kind to give him an invitation, but
+he knows he must not neglect his work."</p>
+
+<p>"He must pay us a visit in his summer holidays, then," said Mr. Tiddy,
+sympathising with the disappointment he read in the little boy's face.
+"I shall not forget. And now, Mrs. Pringle, do you think you can part
+with your little maid on Tuesday? I hope to return to Cornwall as soon
+as that. I only require one clear day in town to transact my business."</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy can be ready by Tuesday," Mrs. Pringle answered, after a few
+moments' reflection, whilst Peggy herself felt quite bewildered by the
+suddenness with which everything was being arranged.</p>
+
+<p>"Come and spend to-morrow with us," suggested Mr. Pringle hospitably,
+"that is, if you have made no previous engagement."</p>
+
+<p>"I have not. Thank you, I shall be delighted to come," answered Mr.
+Tiddy, his countenance beaming with pleasure. "I have heard so much of
+you all from my wife that I can't fancy you were strangers to me till
+this last hour."</p>
+
+<p>When at length he took his departure, which was after a little further
+conversation, he seemed quite an old friend, and the children were
+pleased and excited at the prospect of his visit on the morrow.</p>
+
+<p>"It is as though a load has been lifted off my shoulders," Mr. Pringle
+confessed, as he returned to the sitting-room after having said
+good-bye to Mr. Tiddy at the front door. He sat down in an arm-chair
+as he spoke, and his little daughter took a stool at his feet and
+rested her golden head against his knee. "It seems so marvellous this
+invitation should have come for Peggy just at this very time," he
+proceeded earnestly, "when it seemed utterly impossible to carry out
+the doctor's prescription. Surely God must have prompted Mr. Tiddy to
+come to us to-day."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and there's no one I would so gladly entrust Peggy to as my old
+friend," Mrs. Pringle answered contentedly. "You're pleased you're
+going, are you not, Peggy?" she questioned, noticing a faint shadow on
+her little daughter's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Y-e-s," was the response, given a trifle doubtfully. The thought of
+a visit to Cornwall had filled Peggy with a transport of delight at
+first; but now, she had had time to reflect that she would have no
+mother and father and Billy with her, and she had never been parted
+from them before. "I shall miss you all so much," she murmured with
+quivering lips, "and Cornwall is so far away."</p>
+
+<p>"We shall miss you, little Sunbeam," her father assured her as he
+softly stroked her curly hair, "but we are glad you are going, because
+we want you to get well and strong. I believe you will have a most
+enjoyable time, and, of one thing I am quite certain, that both Mr. and
+Mrs. Tiddy will be kindness itself. I only hope they won't spoil you
+and want to keep you altogether."</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't stay, if they did," Peggy returned, half indignant at the
+suggestion. "And—and I'm beginning to wish I wasn't going at all."</p>
+
+<p>She lay awake a long while that night, crying at the thought of the
+coming separation from her family, but she did not admit it the next
+morning.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tiddy spent Sunday with his new friends as had been arranged, and
+in the evening he accompanied them to St. John's. After the service, he
+waited with Mrs. Pringle and the children to hear the voluntary. It was
+"The Heavens are telling," which Mr. Pringle played at his visitor's
+request.</p>
+
+<p>"Did you like it, Mr. Tiddy?" Peggy whispered at the conclusion of the
+piece as they passed out of the church.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I liked it," he answered earnestly. "Your father plays the organ
+beautifully. 'The Heavens are telling the glory of God!' So they do,
+don't they?" They were in the street by now, Peggy's hand in the firm
+clasp of her new friend. "I can't tell how folks can prefer to live in
+town," he proceeded. "Give me the country and plenty of fresh air. Ah,
+my dear, I'll show you some rare sights in Cornwall—"</p>
+
+<p>"You forget," interposed Peggy, "I cannot see."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor dear!" he said softly. "How thoughtless of me to forget!"</p>
+
+<p>"Does it seem to you very dreadful to be blind?" she asked, catching
+the tone of tender sympathy in his deep voice.</p>
+
+<p>Then, as he hesitated what answer to make, she continued:</p>
+
+<p>"You know, I shall never see as long as I live, but I think I shall get
+on very well. Mother says I am very useful in the house. I am learning
+to do lots of things—to play the piano and to knit, and father says, if
+he had more money—Oh, here are the others!" And she suddenly broke off.</p>
+
+<p>That was the first occasion on which Peggy had been to church since her
+accident. Her mother had been doubtful about taking her to-night, and
+had wanted to leave her at home with Sarah for her companion. But the
+little girl had begged to be allowed to go, and had gained her own way,
+and the service had had a beneficial effect upon her, having soothed
+her nerves instead of having excited them. She slept well that night,
+and the next day was spent in making preparations for her visit, and
+passed so busily that when bedtime came again, she was too weary to lie
+awake thinking of the parting from all those who made up her little
+world, which was so near at hand.</p>
+
+<p>She was called early on the following morning, and after breakfast—of
+which she partook but little—and a somewhat tearful good-bye to Billy
+and Sarah, she drove off in a cab with her parents to Paddington
+railway station, where she was consigned to the care of Mr. Tiddy, who
+had already selected a comfortable carriage and procured a foot-warmer
+for his little charge.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, Peggy, darling," whispered her mother, as the guard bustled
+by requesting people to take their places. "God bless and protect you,
+dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, little Sunbeam," said her father cheerily, as he lifted her
+into the carriage and wrapped her up in a rug. "We shall expect you to
+come back well and strong."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," murmured Peggy, bravely smiling. "Good-bye—oh, good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>PEGGY'S FIRST DAY AT LOWER BRIMLEY</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>ON a certain bright March morning, Mrs. Tiddy stood beneath the
+creeper-covered porch at the front door of Lower Brimley Farm, waiting
+for her husband, who had been up and out-of-doors since daybreak, to
+return to breakfast. Mr. Tiddy had arrived home from London on the
+previous evening, having brought Peggy Pringle with him. But the little
+girl, over-tired as the result of the long journey, had been sleeping
+firmly when her hostess had visited her bedroom half an hour before,
+and orders had been given that she was not to be awakened.</p>
+
+<p>The mistress of Lower Brimley was a small-sized woman with a trim
+figure and a pleasant countenance, which wore a very contented
+expression at the present moment. The view over which Mrs. Tiddy's blue
+eyes wandered admiringly was a most beautiful one, for Lower Brimley
+was situated on the slope of a hill, not ten minutes' walk from the sea
+and the small fishing village which straggled in one steep street from
+the beach to the old grey church on the cliff.</p>
+
+<p>The soft air was sweet with the scent of flowers on this sunny spring
+morning, for the land close by was given up to the cultivation of
+daffodils and narcissi of nearly every species, which flourished in the
+rich moist soil and were now in full bloom, and the garden in front of
+the house was a fine show, too, with violets, hyacinths, and purple
+and scarlet anemones, against a background of rhododendron bushes. In
+short, there was a wealth of flowers everywhere; and as Mrs. Tiddy's
+contemplative gaze roamed over her own domain to the distant sea,
+glimmering like silver in the bright sunshine, it was caught and held
+by the golden furze on the cliffs, and she murmured admiringly:</p>
+
+<p>"What a glorious sight! And to think that that dear child will never
+know how beautiful it all is! How sad to be blind!"</p>
+
+<p>An expression of deep regret crossed Mrs. Tiddy's face as she thought
+of her little visitor; but it gave place to a bright smile as she
+caught sight of her husband approaching. And she ran down the path
+to the garden gate to meet him, anxious to hear that he had found
+everything on the farm in good order. She was soon satisfied upon
+that point, for he was in high spirits, and complimented her upon
+her management during his absence. And then they went into the
+house together, and sat down to breakfast in the parlour, a large
+comfortably-furnished room, the windows of which commanded a view of
+the village and the sea.</p>
+
+<p>"And how is my fellow-traveller?" Mr. Tiddy inquired by-and-by.</p>
+
+<p>"She was sleeping firmly half an hour ago and I have given orders that
+she is not to be disturbed," his wife-responded. "She was so very tired
+last night, and I fancy she felt home-sick—poor little soul! She has
+never been away from her own people before, you see, and oh, Ebenezer,
+think how helpless one must feel to be always in darkness!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," he agreed, "but though she has been denied sight, her other
+senses seem preternaturally keen. It's always the way with blind
+people, I've heard. And—why, here she comes!"</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tiddy rose as the door opened, and Peggy stood hesitating upon the
+threshold of the room. Going to her side, he gave her a hearty kiss,
+inquired how she was this morning, and, having been assured that she
+was quite well, led her to his wife.</p>
+
+<p>"I thought you were still in bed and asleep, my dear child," said Mrs.
+Tiddy, her voice expressing the surprise she felt.</p>
+
+<p>"I woke up, and I was afraid I was late for breakfast, so I dressed as
+quickly as I could and came down," Peggy explained, as she returned
+Mrs. Tiddy's kiss and took the chair by her side.</p>
+
+<p>"How clever of you to find your way alone!"</p>
+
+<p>"Clever!" laughed Peggy. "You forget I had my supper in this room last
+night, and I heard your voices as I came downstairs. What a lovely
+morning, isn't it? I smelt violets and hyacinths when I opened my
+bedroom window, and I heard the sea."</p>
+
+<p>"The sea is very calm to-day, almost as still as a mill-pond," remarked
+Mr. Tiddy somewhat dubiously. "You must have very sharp ears, if you
+heard it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, but I did," persisted Peggy. "The waves were whispering ever so
+softly, but I heard them. I was never at the seaside but once before,
+when we all went to Bournemouth for a week, nearly two years ago."</p>
+
+<p>The little girl was looking very bright this morning, and she did full
+justice to the fried bacon and chopped potatoes to which Mr. Tiddy
+helped her, remarking, as he did so, that he hoped she could enjoy
+country fare. And at the conclusion of the meal, he suggested that she
+should put on her hat and jacket and go for a stroll with him about the
+farm, whilst his wife attended to her domestic duties in the house.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly, Peggy accompanied her host out into the brilliant spring
+sunshine, and asked him numerous questions about his flowers. He
+explained all about their cultivation, and watched her with keenly
+interested eyes as she felt the various blooms with her sensitive
+fingers.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall remember all you have told me," she declared. "This is a
+'Princess Mary,' is it not? And this is the daffodil you said the
+country people call 'butter and eggs'?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "But how can you possibly tell?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can feel the difference, Mr. Tiddy, and I can smell. It seems to me
+all these daffodils have different scents."</p>
+
+<p>"To me, they are alike," he admitted, "but I suppose they are not.
+Really, Peggy, you are a very clever little girl."</p>
+
+<p>When they returned to the house they went by the back way, where,
+in the yard, they were met by a big, black-and-white smooth-haired
+sheep-dog, who sniffed at Peggy suspiciously at first. But when she
+ventured to extend her hand to him, he licked it with his great pink
+tongue, whilst a very soft expression crept into his amber eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"He likes you, my dear," Mr. Tiddy said. "And he does not take to every
+one, let me tell you. He evidently intends to regard you as a friend."</p>
+
+<p>"What is his name?" Peggy inquired, as she passed her hand over the
+dog's sleek head.</p>
+
+<p>"Wolf. We gave him the name when he was a puppy, because he was such a
+lean, fierce-looking creature. He is a splendid house-dog; but he is
+not very sociable, as a rule. He seems to have taken a fancy to you,
+however."</p>
+
+<p>"He knows I like him," Peggy said, as she caressed her new
+acquaintance, who continued to wag his tail amicably. "What a tall dog
+he is! Wolf—dear old Wolf!"</p>
+
+<p>The animal gave a delighted cry, and Mr. Tiddy nodded his head
+approvingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad he's taken to you," he said. "For you couldn't get a better
+protector than Wolf."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy never forgot that first day at Lower Brimley. The afternoon she
+passed quietly in the house with Mrs. Tiddy, who wrote a long letter to
+her old school fellow in which were many messages from Peggy.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell her how much I miss them all," said the little girl. "But please
+say, too, that I am sure I shall be very happy here, because every one
+is so kind to me, and it is a lovely, lovely place! And, please don't
+forget to send my dear love!" And for a few minutes, her blue eyes were
+full of tears.</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy," said Mrs. Tiddy by-and-by, "I have heard all the details in
+connection with your accident from my husband, and I do not wonder it
+was a shock to your nerves. Is your shoulder quite well now, dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, Mrs. Tiddy. It got well very quickly. Every one said it was
+a wonder I was not killed; but I think myself God took especial care
+of me, because He knew I wasn't quite like other people—not being able
+to see, you know. Mr. Maloney—that's the Vicar of St. John's—thinks so
+too. Wasn't it strange that it should have been mother's aunt who was
+in the carriage?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very. Your mother never sees her Aunt Caroline, does she?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never. Do you know her, Mrs. Tiddy?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, though, of course, I have heard a good bit about her from your
+mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Billy and I never heard of her at all till my accident. I don't think
+she can be nice; and Billy said she looked very proud. I heard her
+speak, but I was too frightened then to take much notice of her voice.
+I always tell what people are like by their voices."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you, my dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Peggy nodded. "I knew Mr. Tiddy was good and kind, the moment I
+heard him speak: I felt I could trust him. Do you know, I quite enjoyed
+the journey yesterday, after we had properly started. Of course, I
+didn't like saying good-bye to mother and father. I had never been in a
+corridor-train before, and we had dinner at a big table just as though
+we were in a proper room, and there was a kitchen on the train, and
+cooks. Oh, how Billy would have liked to have been there! What a lot I
+shall have to tell him when I go home! Oh, Mrs. Tiddy, it was kind of
+you to think of inviting me to stay with you!"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure your visit will be a great pleasure to me, my dear," Mrs.
+Tiddy replied cordially. "And I shall be well content, if I can send
+you home with roses in your cheeks. To-morrow I will take you into the
+village and down to the beach; but I must not let you do too much on
+your first day. There, I have finished my letter, and can now have an
+idle hour before tea."</p>
+
+<p>She put aside her writing materials as she spoke, and went to the
+window, where Peggy was seated, listening to the sparrows twittering
+beneath the eaves of the roof and the sound of children's voices wafted
+upwards from the village below.</p>
+
+<p>"You and Mr. Tiddy are so very kind to take so much trouble to explain
+everything to me," the little girl said, with a grateful ring in her
+sweet, clear voice, "that I am already beginning to know this place
+quite well—the house and the grounds, too."</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I tell you what I see from this window?" asked Mrs. Tiddy.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, please!" Peggy answered delightedly. Then as her kind hostess
+did so, she listened with attention, her face aglow with interest and
+pleasure. "How well you make me understand!" she cried, as Mrs. Tiddy
+ceased speaking. She leaned her head out of the open window and sniffed
+the fresh salt breeze appreciatively, and listened to the murmur of the
+sea. It seemed a very beautiful world to Peggy in spite of her lack of
+sight.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IN a very few days, Peggy had settled into the routine of life at Lower
+Brimley, and had become well known by sight to the villagers, who took
+a kindly interest in Mrs. Tiddy's guest—"the pretty little maid," as
+they called her, who, though she was blind, could play the piano, so
+the servants at the farm reported, and was so clever that wherever she
+went once she could go by herself a second time.</p>
+
+<p>Accompanied by the lean, long-legged sheep-dog, she was now a familiar
+figure on the beach, where she would sit for hours, listening to the
+incessant murmur of the sea or talking to the fishermen, whose deep
+voices insensibly softened in addressing her. For nowhere so much as in
+Cornwall is more respect shown to those whom God has afflicted; and,
+though Peggy knew it not, she was continually watched by friendly eyes
+to see that she came to no harm.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Tiddy, who had been nervous about letting her visitor wander out
+of her sight at first, soon grew less vigilant, and was quite satisfied
+if she knew Wolf was with her, for the dog had constituted himself
+her faithful companion, and showed marked signs of jealousy, if any
+stranger came near her.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon, about a week after her arrival at Lower Brimley, Peggy
+was standing in a gateway waiting for Mr. Tiddy, who had gone across
+a meadow to look at some sheep, when Wolf, as usual at her side, gave
+a low, warning growl and drew closer to her. She put her hand on the
+dog's collar and listened, hearing at length the sound of footsteps
+slowly approaching. Some one was evidently ascending the hill which led
+from the village to the farm.</p>
+
+<p>After that one growl, Wolf remained silent, and Peggy did not move as
+the footsteps drew near. But when they suddenly stopped, the little
+girl, still holding the dog by the collar, turned her face, with an
+inquiring expression upon it, towards the spot where she knew some
+one—a woman, she thought, from the sound of the footsteps—to be.</p>
+
+<p>"Can you tell me, if this is the way to Lower Brimley Farm?" asked a
+somewhat patronising voice—the voice of a lady, Peggy's sharp ears
+informed her at once.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," the little girl answered. "You will come within sight of the
+house, I know, when you turn the next corner. Are you going to call on
+Mrs. Tiddy? Perhaps you are a friend of hers? She is not at home; she
+has driven in to Penzance."</p>
+
+<p>"And I have driven from Penzance. But I have no acquaintance with Mrs.
+Tiddy—the mistress at the farm, I presume? I have no desire to see
+her, but I want to have a look at her flowers. I am told the daffodils
+and narcissi at Lower Brimley are especially fine. People talk so much
+nowadays of the flower-farms of Cornwall that I am curious to see one."</p>
+
+<p>The speaker—a tall, thin, erect old lady, with snow-white hair and
+very sharp dark eyes, looked carelessly at the child, and proceeded to
+question her: "Do you live here? Are you the farmer's daughter?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; I am no relation to either Mr. or Mrs. Tiddy, although they are
+so very kind to me," Peggy answered simply. "My home is in London;
+I am only here on a visit. I am sure Mr. Tiddy will let you look at
+his flowers; he is very proud of them, and no wonder, for they are so
+beautiful! He has gone across the meadow, but he will return directly.
+Perhaps you can see him?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you mean that big man in breeches and leggings?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's Mr. Tiddy. I promised to wait here with Wolf—that's the
+dog—till he came back. Is he far off? Is he coming this way?"</p>
+
+<p>"Cannot you use your eyes, child?" began the lady, a trifle
+impatiently. Then she paused abruptly, and scanned the little girl's
+face with keener scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot see," Peggy responded, "because I am blind."</p>
+
+<p>"Blind! How shocking!"</p>
+
+<p>The stranger's voice had softened perceptibly, and sounded no longer
+indifferent. Peggy, conscious of the change, smiled, and a faint colour
+rose to her pale cheeks as she remarked:</p>
+
+<p>"Every one is surprised to hear I am blind, but it is quite true."</p>
+
+<p>"And have you been blind long?"</p>
+
+<p>"All my life."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet you look happy!" was the wondering exclamation.</p>
+
+<p>"I am very happy. Mother says I must always remember how many blessings
+God has given me, and so I do. Oh, here is Mr. Tiddy!" the little girl
+cried, with a sudden change of tone.</p>
+
+<p>The farmer came up, glancing curiously at Peggy's companion, who now
+put forward a request—it sounded almost like a command—to see his
+flowers, adding that she had come from Penzance on purpose to look at
+them, and had left her carriage at the foot of the hill.</p>
+
+<p>"You are just in time to see them at their best," Mr. Tiddy told her
+pleasantly. "In another week, I shall have cut them all: we rear them
+for the London markets. Lead the way, Peggy. A little friend of ours
+from town," he explained, lowering his voice as the child and the dog
+went on ahead. "She's been laid up ill and hasn't picked up her health
+and spirits yet. We're trying what our Cornish air will do for her."</p>
+
+<p>"I trust it will do wonders," said the lady, and her voice, though
+still cold in tone, was not ungracious. "She looks a delicate child,
+and she tells me, she is blind."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes, poor dear," sighed Mr. Tiddy. "Though I don't know why I
+should pity her," he proceeded, "for she's as happy as the day is
+long. Her father—he's the organist of St. John's in the East End of
+London—calls her 'little Sunbeam,' and the name just suits her. Her
+mother and my wife were school friends, and—but here we are!"</p>
+
+<p>The stranger was evidently much gratified by the sight of the flowers,
+and she was greatly impressed by the knowledge Peggy evinced concerning
+them. And the more she conversed with Mr. Tiddy, the more gracious her
+manner became, till by-and-by she asked him if there were comfortable
+lodgings to be had in the neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p>"There's a farm higher up the hill, the adjoining farm to this, Higher
+Brimley it's called—where they let apartments during the summer
+months," he replied. "I expect they'd consider themselves fortunate, if
+they obtained a lodger as early in the year as this. Ford, the people
+are called, and Mrs. Ford is a nice, respectable woman who'd make you
+very comfortable."</p>
+
+<p>"You never take lodgers here?" the stranger inquired hesitatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Never," was the decisive answer. "My wife has plenty of work to do in
+connection with the poultry and the dairy, and—to be plain—we like our
+home to ourselves."</p>
+
+<p>When the lady had gazed her fill at the daffodils, Mr. Tiddy led the
+way into the garden, which she declared to be her idea of what a
+country garden should be. The kindly farmer, pleased at her admiration
+for his belongings, thereupon invited her into the house, and had tea
+brought into the parlour. "I wish my wife was at home," he observed
+regretfully, "but Peggy must play hostess in her place."</p>
+
+<p>"And a very nice little hostess she makes," replied the old lady, her
+curious gaze upon the child, who was offering her some of Mrs. Tiddy's
+home-made cake. "Do you always treat strangers as you are treating me?"
+she inquired, turning to Mr. Tiddy again. "I have heard of Cornish
+hospitality, but I never believed in it till now. You don't know
+anything about me—" She paused and laughed rather bitterly, then added:
+"Most people would not think it worth while to entertain a stranger—one
+never likely to cross their path in life again."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you do not mean to seek lodgings in the district?" Mr. Tiddy
+asked gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"I have not made up my mind on that point yet. I almost think I could
+be contented in a spot like this."</p>
+
+<p>Having finished her tea, she rose and prepared to depart. Mr. Tiddy now
+noted for the first time, how costly was her dress—evidently she was a
+woman rich in this world's goods—and he thought as he glanced at the
+deep lines of discontent around her hard mouth, that, in spite of her
+undeniably handsome face, she was the most ill-tempered looking old
+lady he had seen for many a long day, and doubted much if she would be
+contented anywhere.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, child," she said stretching out her delicately-gloved hand
+to Peggy. "It is quite possible that we may meet again."</p>
+
+<p>"If we do, I shall remember you," was the grave response. "I shall
+remember you by your voice. And I can't help thinking that somewhere
+we have met before, or perhaps it is only that you remind me of some
+one—that must be it."</p>
+
+<p>The lady looked at Peggy searchingly, and shook her head. Then she went
+away, leaving the little girl in a very thoughtful frame of mind. When
+Mr. Tiddy returned, after having accompanied the stranger down the hill
+and placed her in the hired carriage in which she had been driven from
+Penzance, he asked Peggy what she thought of their late visitor.</p>
+
+<p>"She seemed rather unhappy, didn't she, Mr. Tiddy?" she questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"Unhappy?" he said, reflectively. "I don't know about that. To me she
+appeared simply discontented. She is a selfish woman, I'll be bound—so
+maybe you're right, my dear, for selfish folk are never happy—and
+wrapped up in her own concerns. But she liked my daffodils, didn't she?
+I could see she had a real love for flowers. And she was interested in
+you, too. One mustn't judge by appearances altogether—"</p>
+
+<p>"I judge by her voice," said Peggy, as he broke off, leaving his
+sentence unfinished.</p>
+
+<p>"A hard, cold voice, wasn't it?" questioned Mr. Tiddy.</p>
+
+<p>"Y-e-s. Was she very old, Mr. Tiddy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Over seventy, I should say."</p>
+
+<p>"That's a great age, isn't it? I wonder if she is always alone like she
+was to-day. Perhaps she has no one to love and care for her now she
+is old. How sad that must be! Poor old lady!" And there was deepest
+sympathy in her tone.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Tiddy looked at the speaker with a tender smile; but he did not
+think it worth while to say that, to him, their visitor had appeared
+anything but poor. Perhaps, he reflected, the child might be right
+after all, for he knew how often those rich in worldly possessions are
+poor in heart.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>MISS LEIGHTON'S DISCOVERY</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>THE daffodil blooms had all been gathered; March had given place
+to April; and, day by day, Peggy was improving in health, whilst
+roses—faint as yet, it is true—were appearing in her cheeks. The
+doctor's prescription of a change of air was evidently what she had
+needed; and Mrs. Tiddy was much gratified at being able to write most
+cheering reports of her visitor's condition to Mrs. Pringle, who read
+them aloud to her husband and Billy with deep thankfulness in her heart.</p>
+
+<p>"How we shall miss the child when she leaves us!" Mr. Tiddy remarked to
+his wife one evening, as they strolled up and down the path in front
+of the house when the work of the day was over, listening to the music
+which Peggy's fingers were drawing from the piano in the parlour. The
+little girl was naturally musical and had been well taught by her
+father, who had often told her that if she worked hard and practised
+industriously, she might become a real musician some day, and to be a
+real musician was her most earnest desire.</p>
+
+<p>"But she is not going to leave us for a long while yet," Mrs. Tiddy
+responded. "I have written and told her mother that she must spare
+her to us for another month, at least, and I think she will be glad
+to let her stay, as her health is benefiting so much by our Cornish
+air. By the way, Ebenezer, have you heard that there are lodgers at
+Higher Brimley? No? An elderly lady and her maid have taken Mrs. Ford's
+apartments. They were pointed out to me in the village this afternoon
+when Peggy and I were returning from the beach. And Peggy says she is
+sure the lady is the one who came from Penzance on purpose to look at
+our flowers. She is a tall, thin, old lady with quite white hair."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't say so!" exclaimed the farmer. "I told her she could get
+apartments at Higher Brimley, but I did not think she really meant to
+see about them. Did she speak to Peggy?"</p>
+
+<p>"No; she did not see her, for we were in the post office when she
+passed with her maid. Peggy recognised her by her voice."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder who she is. You did not hear her name, I suppose?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. Listen! The child is singing!"</p>
+
+<p>They stood silently by the open window of the parlour and listened as
+the little girl's voice, low and sweet in tone, rang out clearly and
+softly:</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>"Holy Father, cheer our way<br>
+&nbsp;With Thy love's perpetual ray:<br>
+&nbsp;Grant us every closing day<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Light at evening time."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>"Dear child," murmured Mrs. Tiddy, tears springing involuntarily to her
+eyes, "it does seem hard lines that one naturally so bright and joyous
+should be blind! But there, God knows best, and I suppose He has denied
+her sight for some good reason; and she has His love to cheer her way,
+I'm certain."</p>
+
+<p>"I think there's light in her heart," said Mr. Tiddy simply, and his
+wife agreed.</p>
+
+<p>It was on the following morning that Peggy, who had wandered down to
+the beach with Wolf in attendance, met the lodgers from Higher Brimley.
+The old lady spoke to the little girl, and inquired if she remembered
+her. And, receiving an answer in the affirmative, she dismissed her
+maid, telling her to wait within sight, and requested Peggy to sit down
+by her side on an upturned boat, and talk to her for a while.</p>
+
+<p>Peggy complied readily, for she was of a very sociable disposition,
+and commenced the conversation by informing her companion that she had
+recognised her voice when she had heard it on the previous day.</p>
+
+<p>"I was in the post office with Mrs. Tiddy when you passed," she said,
+"and you were talking. We were told you had taken Mrs. Ford's rooms."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not know how long I shall remain there-perhaps only a few days,
+perhaps longer. I suppose the daffodils are all gone now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Peggy nodded regretfully; "but there are more flowers than ever
+in the garden, and those will not be cut. Mr. Tiddy grows them for
+himself and his friends; but the daffodils and narcissi, he sells."</p>
+
+<p>"You are looking better than when I saw you before," observed the
+stranger. "I suppose you will be going home soon?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not for some weeks yet. Oh, yes, I am a lot better! I feel really
+well; and Mrs. Tiddy says I am getting quite rosy and sunburnt. I am so
+glad, because they will be pleased at home."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you one of a long family?"</p>
+
+<p>"No. I have only one brother—Billy. Father is the organist of St.
+John's, but I do not expect you know the church. Mr. Maloney is our
+Vicar. He's a great friend of ours. I'm sure you'd like him, because
+he's such a good man. Mother says he's very clever, and people come a
+long distance often to hear him preach, so I suppose he must be."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I've heard of him," said the old lady thoughtfully. "He gives
+up his life to working amongst the poor, does he not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. Nearly every one in our parish is poor. Mr. Maloney is, I
+believe, and we are, you know, because father's salary isn't much,
+and his music pupils don't pay him as they ought. But father is very
+clever, too, and some day I dare say we shall be better off. Father
+composes music, and there are very few people who can do that," the
+little girl said, with a ring of affectionate pride in her voice. "Do
+you live in London, too?" she inquired, thinking it was her turn to ask
+a question now.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a house in town. Will you come and spend a day with me there
+when we both go back to our own homes?"</p>
+
+<p>"I—I hardly know," Peggy replied doubtfully, flushing with surprise.
+"It's very kind of you to invite me; but I must ask mother. I don't
+know who you are, and—"</p>
+
+<p>"And I don't know who you are, either! Suppose you tell me your name?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is Margaret Pringle; but I am always called Peggy, because father
+calls mother Margaret."</p>
+
+<p>"Pringle!" exclaimed the old lady, growing suddenly crimson. She looked
+almost angrily at Peggy as she spoke, but of course the little girl was
+unconscious of that fact, though she caught the sound of agitation in
+her voice. "Pringle!" she repeated. "Is it possible? Tell me, is your
+father's name John?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. You have heard of him?" Since her companion had evinced some
+knowledge of the Vicar of St. John's, it did not occur to Peggy as at
+all unlikely that she should know something of the organist too. "He
+plays most beautifully," she continued impressively. "Mr. Tiddy will
+tell you so, for he heard him one Sunday evening when he went to church
+with us. It was the first time I had been to church after my accident.
+Oh, I haven't told you about that! I was knocked down when I was out
+with Billy, and it was a great wonder that I was not killed!"</p>
+
+<p>And she recounted the story of her adventure at some length, utterly
+unconscious of the effect it was having upon her listener, who had lost
+all her colour again now, and was looking paler than before.</p>
+
+<p>"The—the person in the carriage would not have understood that you were
+blind," the old lady remarked at length, subsequent to a long pause
+which had followed the conclusion of Peggy's tale.</p>
+
+<p>"No, of course not," the little girl agreed, "but Mr. Maloney says
+the least she could have done would have been to have driven me home.
+Billy thinks she didn't care, if I was hurt or not. And—isn't it
+strange?—she's supposed to be a very charitable person!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then you know who she is?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes! She gave the policeman her card, and mother used to know her
+quite well—years ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!"</p>
+
+<p>"I—I am afraid I have been talking too much," Peggy said hesitatingly,
+with a sudden touch of reserve in her tone as she became aware that she
+had let her tongue run away with her. She hoped she had not wearied her
+companion with her chatter.</p>
+
+<p>"Why did you say she—the person in the carriage, I mean—is supposed to
+be very charitable?" asked the old lady presently.</p>
+
+<p>"Because she gives away heaps and heaps of money," was the prompt reply.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that is very generous of her, is it not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. But I don't think she can be really charitable, if she isn't kind
+in little ways and if she's unforgiving. I asked Mr. Maloney what he
+thought."</p>
+
+<p>"Well? What did he say?"</p>
+
+<p>"He repeated that verse in the Corinthians, 'Though I bestow all my
+goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and
+have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.' He didn't say anything but
+that; but I know what he meant, don't you? But, don't let us talk about
+her any more—I am not sure that I ought to have spoken of her at all."</p>
+
+<p>"You have done no harm. So that accident was actually the cause of your
+illness?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. And just when the doctor said I must have a change of air, Mr.
+Tiddy arrived and invited me here. Wasn't it kind of him, and of Mrs.
+Tiddy too? You know I couldn't possibly have had a change but for them,
+for father couldn't have managed it, and it made him so dreadfully
+unhappy that he couldn't. Both he and mother were so worried about me."</p>
+
+<p>Soon after that the old lady rose, remarking that she found the wind a
+trifle chilly. She said good-bye to Peggy and joined her maid with the
+intention of returning to her lodgings. Left alone, the little girl
+reflected that her late companion had been decidedly less affable at
+the conclusion of their conversation, than at the commencement, and
+wondered why that had been. Had she unwittingly said anything to cause
+her annoyance? She felt puzzled and uneasy; and, though she had been
+encouraged to talk, she wished she had been less communicative.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the old lady, who, as the reader has no doubt guessed, was
+no other than Miss Leighton, Mrs. Pringle's aunt, was walking up the
+hill towards Higher Brimley in anything but a happy frame of mind. That
+morning she had spoken of remaining some while longer in Cornwall, and
+had professed herself quite satisfied with the arrangements which had
+been made for her comfort; but now, she had almost decided to quit the
+neighbourhood at once.</p>
+
+<p>She had been greatly attracted by the blind child on the occasion
+of her visit from Penzance to look at Mr. Tiddy's flowers. And when
+she had caught sight of her on the beach an hour previously, she had
+determined to cultivate her acquaintance. But having learnt that Peggy
+was the daughter of the niece whom she had never forgiven for what she
+called her ingratitude, she was experiencing mingled feelings of anger,
+bitterness, and regret.</p>
+
+<p>"I will have no more to do with her," she thought.</p>
+
+<p>Then she shuddered as she reflected on the accident. How terrible it
+would have been if her horses had killed Margaret's little daughter!
+She had made no inquiries concerning her niece since her marriage and
+had not even known where she was living, or if she had any children
+or not. Therefore, it had been somewhat of a shock to discover she
+had a child who was afflicted with blindness. She pictured Peggy,
+golden-haired and sunny-faced, and an unwonted expression of tenderness
+crossed her countenance. After all, she decided, she would remain at
+Higher Brimley for the time, for—it was weak of her, no doubt—she felt
+she must see Peggy once again.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>A GREAT SURPRISE</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>NOT quite a week later, Mr. Tiddy, crossing the fields in his usual
+leisurely fashion towards the house at dinner-time, caught sight of his
+wife and Peggy, standing at the garden gate, evidently waiting for him.
+As he drew near enough to see the expression of their faces, he noticed
+that both appeared excited, and as he joined them the little girl cried
+eagerly:</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Mr. Tiddy, we've had a visitor! She came and knocked at the door
+and asked if she might go round the garden. And who do you think she
+was?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, the old lady who's lodging at Higher Brimley, to be sure,"
+answered Mr. Tiddy promptly, evincing no surprise. "I met her this
+morning, and she stopped and spoke to me. She expressed a desire to see
+our flowers, so I told her, she'd be welcome to look at them, whenever
+she pleased. She didn't lose much time in taking me at my word," he
+concluded, smilingly.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but do you know who she is?" demanded Peggy. "No, we thought not.
+You'll be simply astounded when you hear. She didn't tell us until just
+as she was leaving, and then she said her name was Leighton, and that
+I was related to her—distantly related, she said. She's mother's Aunt
+Caroline, the rich lady who was in the carriage when—"</p>
+
+<p>"What!" broke in the farmer, "You don't say so!" He looked
+questioningly at his wife as he spoke, and she hastened to reply:</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Ebenezer, it is true. There can be no doubt about it. She is that
+rich Miss Leighton of whom we have heard so much."</p>
+
+<p>"I told her who I was that day she talked to me on the beach," Peggy
+said, with face and voice full of excitement. "She asked me my name;
+and—and I told her, too, all about my accident and how unkind we
+thought it of her to have driven away when I was hurt. I think perhaps
+she was cross at what I said, but I never dreamt who she was, so I
+don't think really it was my fault, do you, Mr. Tiddy?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, my dear, I do not," he agreed.</p>
+
+<p>"Still, perhaps I ought not to have talked as I did to a stranger. She
+was very nice to-day, though, wasn't she, Mrs. Tiddy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very. Will you run into the house, Peggy, and say we are ready for
+dinner?"</p>
+
+<p>Then as the little girl obeyed, Mrs. Tiddy turned to her husband and
+said gravely:</p>
+
+<p>"Ebenezer, what can have brought Miss Leighton here? Until Peggy told
+her her name the other day, she had no idea who she was or even that
+her niece had children. I don't believe she has forgiven Peggy's mother
+yet. Isn't it shocking to bear malice in one's heart so long? 'I don't
+wish to hear anything concerning your friend or her husband,' she said
+to me in a tone without an atom of feeling in it; 'but I was never one
+for visiting the sins of the parents upon the children. My niece proved
+herself ungrateful, and I regard ingratitude as a sin, but I feel no
+resentment against her innocent daughter.' I should think not indeed!
+I made no answer, however, for I was afraid, if I did, I might say too
+much."</p>
+
+<p>"Surely she did not make that remark before Peggy!" exclaimed Mr.
+Tiddy, his ruddy colour deepening with indignation.</p>
+
+<p>"No, certainly not; Peggy was not within hearing then. What shall I do?
+Miss Leighton asked me to call on her and bring Peggy with me, and I
+half promised I would; I did not like to refuse. I think the old lady
+has taken a fancy to the child. Isn't it strange that those two should
+have crossed each other's path again?"</p>
+
+<p>The farmer nodded, a very thoughtful expression on his face. "There's
+One above Who planned they should meet, that's my opinion," he said
+gravely; "and I don't think we ought to try to keep them apart. Maybe
+the old lady will get to feel more kindly towards her niece when she
+knows Peggy better and realises what a dear little soul she is and how
+well her mother has brought her up. I am sure Mrs. Pringle will not
+object to your taking the child to call on her aunt. By the way, does
+Miss Leighton like her lodgings?"</p>
+
+<p>"She said they were fairly comfortable. She strikes me as a rather
+dissatisfied body. She is anything but a happy woman, Ebenezer, though
+God has given her so much; and I hear from the servants, who have
+become friendly with her maid, that she is a very jealous, exacting
+temper, and she is always imagining people are trying to cultivate her
+acquaintance on account of her wealth."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, she cannot possibly imagine that about you," Mr. Tiddy replied,
+"for she has sought your acquaintance herself. I suppose we had better
+go in to dinner now. There's Peggy under the porch beckoning to us."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Tiddy decided she would not call upon Miss Leighton until she had
+mentioned the matter to her old school friend; so she wrote to her that
+same day, and received an answer by return of post. Mrs. Pringle said
+very little about her aunt in her letter, but she raised no objection
+to her little daughter's calling with Mrs. Tiddy at Higher Brimley.
+"Aunt Caroline is not fond of young people," she remarked, "so please
+don't force the child upon her notice—but I am sure you will not do
+that."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly will not," Mrs. Tiddy reflected as she folded up her
+friend's letter, "but I will take Peggy to call on Miss Leighton, as
+the old lady made a point of my doing so. We need not stay very long,
+any way."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy experienced a feeling of unusual shyness when, one April
+afternoon, she accompanied Mrs. Tiddy to Higher Brimley; and, although
+Miss Leighton received them with every sign of cordiality, she was
+anything but at ease in her presence. As the little girl sat in silence
+listening to the conversation of the two ladies, she was aware that the
+elder's eyes were upon her, and she alternately flushed and paled as
+she thought over the small amount of information she had gleaned from
+her mother since her accident about this aunt of hers. Her tender heart
+had gone out in sympathy towards the old lady, whom she had sincerely
+pitied because she had fancied she might be all alone in the world, but
+now she mentally regarded her from quite another point of view.</p>
+
+<p>"Mother would have loved her, if she would have let her," she
+reflected. "It is her own fault if she is lonely. I wonder if she will
+speak of mother to me!"</p>
+
+<p>But Miss Leighton did not once mention her niece's name. She addressed
+herself very kindly to Peggy every now and again, and seemed wishful
+to make much of her, and Mrs. Tiddy saw she was disappointed and
+half-vexed by the child's evident disinclination to talk.</p>
+
+<p>"What have you done with your dog this afternoon?" Miss Leighton
+inquired, when at length her visitors rose to go.</p>
+
+<p>"We shut him up in the stable before we started," Peggy answered. "He
+wanted to come because he loves a walk."</p>
+
+<p>"He is rather quarrelsome with other dogs," Mrs. Tiddy explained, "so
+we thought it wiser to leave him at home. The poor creature was very
+disappointed, for he spends most of his time with Peggy now, and we
+always feel she is safe if Wolf is with her."</p>
+
+<p>"What will he do when he loses her altogether?" asked Miss Leighton.
+"Peggy does not propose taking him back with her to London, I presume?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," the little girl answered, accepting the question seriously, "I
+wouldn't do that, even if Mr. Tiddy would give him to me, for I am sure
+he would be wretched in town. I'd rather know he is here, guarding the
+yard and looking after the sheep, and going on as he always does—having
+such a good time! He will miss me at first, but—where is Mrs. Tiddy?"
+she asked quickly.</p>
+
+<p>They had left the house and were in the garden now, Mrs. Tiddy having
+lingered at the door to exchange a few words with Mrs. Ford.</p>
+
+<p>"She is talking to my landlady," Miss Leighton replied. "She will be
+here presently. Are you in a great hurry to go? You have no objection
+to being alone with me for a few minutes, I suppose?" she questioned
+sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! No!" Peggy assured her. "And—and now we are alone, I should like
+to say that I hope I wasn't rude to you the other day on the beach,"
+she proceeded, looking distressed. "I would not have spoken like that
+if—if I had known who you were. I—I have thought of it often since,
+and I am sorry if I said anything you did not like. I was afraid,
+afterwards, that you were displeased with me."</p>
+
+<p>"People are seldom pleased to hear others' opinions of themselves,"
+was the dry response. "You evidently considered my conduct towards you
+had been heartless; but I am not angry with you, child. You only said
+frankly what you thought."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Peggy agreed, colouring hotly in her confusion. "I am glad you
+are not angry, though, because I did not mean to be rude, and I am
+afraid I must have been," she added deprecatingly.</p>
+
+<p>"I think you are prejudiced against me." Miss Leighton paused
+momentarily, and sighed, then continued, "Well, it is natural you
+should be. I am sorry, nevertheless. Cannot you dismiss all you have
+heard of me from your mind and take me as you find me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I—I will try. I have not heard much about you, indeed! I never heard
+of you at all till after my accident! Then Billy told me who you were,
+and I was so surprised! Billy and I have often talked of you since!"</p>
+
+<p>"Really? I dare say you heard Mrs. Tiddy ask me to take tea with her
+one afternoon, soon? I shall hope then to hear you play. I hear you are
+quite a musician."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no! But I love music. I play to Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy every night."
+The mantle of reserve was falling from Peggy and the brightness was
+returning to her face. "Do you love music too?" she inquired, lifting
+her sightless blue eyes to her companion's countenance.</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I do; so we have that much in common, at any rate."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, we have more than that, for I am sure you love flowers, and so
+do I. Do you know, there are such a lot of sea-pinks growing on the
+cliffs—"</p>
+
+<p>"You do not go on the cliffs alone?" Miss Leighton interposed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no! But I have been several times with Mr. Tiddy, and I hold fast
+to his hand. There is a sheep-track along the cliffs, you know, and
+it is quite safe if you keep to that. I could find my way alone, I am
+sure, but I never mean to try, because I have promised, I won't."</p>
+
+<p>"That's well. Perhaps you and I might walk there together some day. Do
+you think you could put up with an old woman for a companion?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, Miss Leighton," Peggy answered, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>"And you shall show me the sea-pinks, and we will take Wolf to protect
+us both. But do not call me 'Miss Leighton,' child; call me 'Aunt
+Caroline,' for you are my great-niece and—and I should like to be kind
+to you."</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>CONCERNING ELLEN BARNES</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>MISS LEIGHTON'S maid—Ellen Barnes—was a plain, sad-faced, middle-aged
+woman who had been with her present employer for many years. She had
+known Mrs. Pringle before her marriage, and consequently, it was with
+considerable satisfaction and some astonishment that she saw the
+interest with which her mistress regarded the daughter of the niece,
+the very existence of whom she had ignored so long.</p>
+
+<p>It cannot be said that Miss Leighton was on anything like confidential
+terms with her maid; but she trusted her, and she would have certainly
+been at a loss without the services of the quiet, rather spiritless
+woman who rarely spoke except in answer to a question.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Leighton had now been nearly a fortnight at Higher Brimley, and
+had had several interviews with her little great-niece on the beach,
+and had walked with her along the sheep-track on the cliffs to look at
+the sea-pinks. But she had not yet taken tea with Mrs. Tiddy as had
+been suggested, and when, one sunshiny morning, Peggy arrived with an
+invitation for her to do so that afternoon, she accepted it immediately.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I will come," she replied, after Peggy—rosy with the
+exercise of walking—had delivered her message. "Please give my kind
+regards to Mrs. Tiddy and say I accept her invitation with pleasure.
+Did you walk here by yourself, child?"</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Peggy. She had been ushered into Miss Leighton's
+sitting-room by Ellen Barnes, who had been on an errand to the post
+office for her mistress and had overtaken the little girl on her way
+home. "I started to come alone," she said, "but I had not gone far
+before I heard some one calling to me. It was Barnes. So we walked on
+together. What a very nice woman she is, Aunt Caroline! We had such a
+long talk!"</p>
+
+<p>"Humph!" exclaimed Miss Leighton, rather surprised. "And, pray, what
+did you find to talk about?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, about things at home, first of all," was the somewhat vague
+response. "My home, of course I mean. I did not know till to-day that
+Barnes knew my mother."</p>
+
+<p>The little girl had taken the chair which had been placed for her close
+to the open window by which Miss Leighton was sitting, and the bright
+spring sunshine fell full upon her face framed in its golden curls.
+Certainly she made a very pretty picture.</p>
+
+<p>"I like Barnes," she proceeded in a tone of decision as her companion
+vouchsafed no response. "How very fortunate you are to have such a nice
+woman for your maid, Aunt Caroline!"</p>
+
+<p>"I believe she is thoroughly trustworthy," Miss Leighton remarked,
+somewhat astonished at this expression of opinion, "and that is a great
+deal to be able to say of any one. Barnes has been with me many years.
+I pay her good wages and she is not overworked. I believe she values
+her situation."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes, I am sure she does!" Peggy agreed earnestly.</p>
+
+<p>"How can you tell, child?" Miss Leighton asked, a slightly amused smile
+curving her lips.</p>
+
+<p>"She told me she did, Aunt Caroline."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she?" There was gratification in the old lady's voice. "But—how
+strange of her to say so to you! She must have been very confidential."</p>
+
+<p>"She was telling me about her brother, and how she values her situation
+with you because you pay her such good wages that she is able to send
+home more than half she earns. Oh, Aunt Caroline, when she told me
+about her brother, I thought how thankful I ought to be that God has
+only made me blind! Suppose I was like poor Barnes's brother: how much
+worse that would be!"</p>
+
+<p>"What about Barnes's brother?" inquired Miss Leighton, in utter
+bewilderment. "I have never heard anything about my maid's relations;
+she has a week's holiday every summer; I suppose she goes to see them
+then. Stay—I think I remember hearing her once mention a mother, who,
+by the way, must be a very old woman, for Barnes herself is quite
+middle-aged."</p>
+
+<p>"Barnes's mother is more than eighty years old, and she lives in a
+little village near Plymouth with her son. Oh, Aunt Caroline, he is
+only two years younger than Barnes, and he has been an idiot all his
+life!"</p>
+
+<p>"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Leighton, feeling really shocked. "I never
+heard that before. Barnes never told me."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy looked intensely surprised for a minute, then an expression of
+comprehension crossed her face. "I expect she did not like to tell
+you," she said. "Perhaps she thought you would not be interested, you
+know."</p>
+
+<p>"Why should she think that?" Miss Leighton questioned sharply.</p>
+
+<p>The little girl was silent. She had heard Mrs. Tiddy say that Barnes
+looked a broken-spirited woman; and Mrs. Ford, when she had called
+at Lower Brimley a few days previously, had declared her to be a
+perfect slave to her mistress's whims, and wondered why she did not
+seek another situation with some one who, at any rate, would be less
+inconsiderate and exacting. In the conversation the little girl had
+had with Barnes, she had discovered the reason which induced her to
+keep her post. It was because it enabled her to do so much for her poor
+mother and her imbecile brother in their cottage home.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should you think that?" Miss Leighton persisted. "Come, speak out,
+child! Don't be afraid of me!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not," Peggy answered truthfully, for she was not in the least in
+awe of the old lady. "I meant that—that perhaps if you have never asked
+Barnes about her relations, she would think you would not care to hear
+about them. But it does seem so very odd that she should have lived
+with you so many years, and you should not know all about her mother
+and brother!"</p>
+
+<p>"The brother is an idiot, you say?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but Barnes and her mother are very fond of him; it would break
+her mother's heart to be parted from him, and Barnes says they shall
+never be separated as long as God gives her health and strength to
+work. They get parish pay, and with what Barnes sends them they manage
+to live pretty comfortably. Oh, Aunt Caroline, mustn't it be dreadful
+to have a brother like that! Oh dear, I do think it is so very sad!"
+And the pitiful tears rose to Peggy's blue eyes and ran down her cheeks.</p>
+
+<p>"You mustn't take other people's troubles to heart like that!" Miss
+Leighton exclaimed hastily.</p>
+
+<p>"I feel so sorry for Barnes," Peggy said, with deepest sorrow in her
+tone, "because I am sure it must make her very unhappy to think of her
+brother and her old mother sometimes. She must wish to see them so
+much, and always be wondering how they are getting on. Mrs. Tiddy says
+Barnes looks a very sad woman. I wish I could do something to make her
+happier."</p>
+
+<p>"I said so to her just now," she continued, with a brightening face,
+"and what do you think she answered? That I had helped her by being
+sorry for her brother; she said she wouldn't have told me anything
+about him if I hadn't been afflicted myself, and it warmed her heart to
+know I cared. I told her I should pray to God every night to make her
+brother right in his mind, and she said she was afraid that would never
+be in this world. Poor fellow! He's like me, Aunt Caroline, in that
+way, isn't he? He will have to bear his cross as long as he lives, and
+his cross is so much heavier than mine."</p>
+
+<p>A silence followed, during which Miss Leighton sat gazing, unseeingly,
+out of the window. There was a mist before her eyes, and a lump in her
+throat which prevented her uttering a word. By-and-by Peggy rose to go.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Tiddy said she hoped you would come early this afternoon," she
+observed. "Please do, for I've so many things to show you."</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly will," Miss Leighton replied. "Shall Barnes take you home?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh no, thank you, I know the way quite well; I have only to keep to
+the road. Good-bye, Aunt Caroline—till this afternoon."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Leighton stood at the window and watched the little girl out of
+sight, a gentler expression than usual on her face. Then she resumed
+her seat and took up the book she had been reading before the child's
+arrival; but it failed to interest her now, for her mind was full of
+uneasy thoughts. Barnes had lived with her for nearly twenty years,
+she reflected; and yet how little she really knew of the woman! Well,
+it could not be expected that she would interest herself in her maid's
+concerns. And yet, how surprised Peggy had been at discovering her
+ignorance of aged mother and her imbecile son. Peggy had learnt all
+there was to know about them in less than half an hour.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Leighton paid her servants liberal wages—she was never stingy
+where money was concerned—and it had often occurred to her that Barnes
+must be of a miserly disposition, for she dressed very plainly and it
+had been impossible not to notice that she begrudged spending money.
+Now she understood where the woman's wages had gone. Barnes had not
+been making a purse for herself, but spending it upon those dear
+to her, and, all the while, she had been regarding her as a mean,
+poor-spirited creature.</p>
+
+<p>It was difficult to realise that the humble, silent woman who had borne
+with her mistress's haughty temper so patiently, had been leading a
+life of self-sacrifice and self-repression from the noblest of motives;
+but Miss Leighton now realised that such had been the case, for Peggy
+had thrown a new light upon the maid's character.</p>
+
+<p>What had made Barnes tell Peggy about her brother? the old lady
+wondered. Was it because her heart had been hungry for sympathy,
+and she had known instinctively that she would receive it from the
+blind child? Probably so. She had preferred to confide in a stranger,
+rather than in the mistress whom she knew to be accounted a charitable
+woman—one lavish in giving of her wealth.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think she can really be charitable, if she isn't kind in
+little ways," Peggy had said ingenuously, passing her childish judgment
+on her mother's rich aunt, and the words returned forcibly to Miss
+Leighton's mind now, and cause her a strange pang, whilst she asked
+herself if she had ever been really kind to Ellen Barnes, or for that
+matter, to any member of her household. She was a lonely old woman;
+but, after all, was it not greatly owing to her own fault? She had
+certainly never been "kind in little ways."</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>TEA AT LOWER BRIMLEY</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IT was not the ordinary "afternoon tea" to which Miss Leighton was
+invited, but a substantial meal laid on the square mahogany table in
+the parlour at Lower Brimley, with a mass of primroses in the centre
+intermingled with sprays of beautiful fern moss, surrounded by plates
+of daintily cut bread-and-butter and various kinds of preserves in
+glass dishes, an old china bowl full of clotted cream, a plum cake, and
+some saffron buns—"knobbies" as they are called in Cornwall.</p>
+
+<p>It was but natural that Mrs. Tiddy should put her best possessions
+before this relation of her little visitor's, so the silver tea-service
+had come out of its flannel wrappings, and Miss Leighton drank her tea
+from a rare old china teacup with a wreath of pink roses inside its
+brim—one of a set which had been treasured in Mr. Tiddy's family for
+three generations and was only used on great occasions—and stirred her
+tea with an apostle spoon, worn thin with age; whilst, much to her
+hostess's gratification, she evidently appreciated the efforts which
+were being made to entertain her.</p>
+
+<p>Seated at Mrs. Tiddy's right hand at the tea-table, the old lady looked
+about her with a sense of unusual contentment. For once in a way, she
+was satisfied with the company in which she found herself. Yes, she
+liked this hearty, out-spoken west-country farmer and his pleasant,
+intelligent wife, for she was under the impression—a true one—that
+they would have welcomed her as cordially if she had been poor instead
+of rich, and she so seldom felt that about people. After tea, Peggy
+took possession of her, and, after visiting the yard and inspecting
+the poultry, she was led into the great farm kitchen, where, in one
+corner of the oak settle close to the fire was a flannel-lined basket
+containing two weakly chicks.</p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Tiddy thought this morning that they would die," Peggy said as
+she covered the invalids with her warm hands. "But they are getting on
+nicely now, and to-morrow, they'll be strong enough to run with their
+brothers and sisters."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Leighton glanced around the kitchen with admiring, appreciative
+eyes, noticing the shining tins on the mantel-piece, the big copper
+warming-pan and the tall, brass-faced clock against the wall, and the
+linen bags hanging from the beams which spanned the ceiling, containing
+home-cured hams and sides of bacon. And then, after a visit to the
+dairy, she returned with Peggy to the parlour, where the tea-things had
+disappeared from the table, and the easiest chair in the room was drawn
+near the window for the guest.</p>
+
+<p>"What a peaceful scene it is!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, as her eyes
+rested on the village below and the distant sea. "I suppose, Mrs.
+Tiddy, you have become greatly attached to this charming spot?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Mrs. Tiddy answered. "I love Lower Brimley as I imagine only
+a woman who has been homeless and dependent can love her home. There
+was nowhere in the world where I could feel I had a right to be, till
+I married, for I was left an orphan at an early age and brought up by
+relations who regarded me in the light of an incubus. The bread of
+charity is very bitter, Miss Leighton—how bitter, it is impossible for
+those who have never tasted it to guess. I finished my education in a
+school as a pupil teacher, so I can truthfully say, that after I was
+seventeen, I maintained myself. You know I was a governess for several
+years, but I prefer being a farmer's wife," she concluded with a happy
+laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Your lines have fallen in pleasant places," Miss Leighton remarked,
+with a smile which was very gracious.</p>
+
+<p>And Mrs. Tiddy agreed.</p>
+
+<p>Then Peggy was asked to give them some music, and she went to the piano
+willingly. Miss Leighton was astonished to hear the child could play so
+well, and expressed herself delighted, remarking that she had evidently
+been most carefully taught.</p>
+
+<p>"Soon I am going to learn the organ," Peggy informed the old lady,
+twisting round on the piano-stool, "and then, perhaps, when I am quite
+grown up I shall be able to earn my own living. How splendid that will
+be! I think I would rather be a musician than anything else, because
+it makes people happy to hear music. Oh! here's Mr. Tiddy!" she cried,
+catching the sound of footsteps in the hall; and a minute later the
+farmer entered the room.</p>
+
+<p>"You've been having some music?" he said, glancing at Peggy on the
+piano-stool. "Well, now, won't you sing something, my dear? She has a
+voice as sweet as a lark's," he continued, turning to the visitor. "I
+am sure you would like to hear her sing, wouldn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I should," Miss Leighton replied.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know any songs," Peggy said doubtfully; "only a few hymns, and
+little scraps from anthems which I've heard at church."</p>
+
+<p>"Sing that hymn about 'Light at evening time,' my dear," requested Mr.
+Tiddy. "I dearly like to hear you sing that."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy complied immediately, and when her sweet voice ceased there was
+dead silence for a minute or so. Surprised, the little girl turned her
+sightless eyes in the direction of Miss Leighton, wondering why she did
+not at least say, "Thank you."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't you like it?" she asked. "It's my favourite hymn, and when I was
+a very little girl mother taught me to say the first verse as a prayer.
+I say it every night now, and I expect I always shall. I suppose I like
+it so much because I'm blind. I don't know what light is, but I know
+it's very beautiful and wonderful, because Jesus is called 'The Light
+of the World,' and people seem to think it's so dreadful to be without
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"The light our Saviour brought into the world is given to the blind as
+freely as to others," Mrs. Tiddy reminded her gently. "Its home is in
+the heart, making peace and happiness and joy." She glanced at Miss
+Leighton as she spoke and was surprised at the expression of her face.
+The old lady was regarding the child with yearning eyes, and her whole
+countenance—generally so repellent in its pride—was softened by an
+emotion which rendered her incapable of speech.</p>
+
+<p>At that moment Peggy started to her feet, declaring she heard Wolf
+outside the window—he was in search of her—and hastened out of the
+room. A few minutes later, she and her faithful canine friend ran down
+the garden path side by side, the dog barking joyously at having lured
+her from the house.</p>
+
+<p>"How full of life and high spirits she is!" remarked Mr. Tiddy, as he
+moved to the window to watch the pair. "She is looking capital, isn't
+she? I declare her cheeks have become quite round and rosy, and she was
+such a pale little soul not much more than a month ago."</p>
+
+<p>"It is terrible that she should be blind!" Miss Leighton exclaimed, a
+sort of restrained vehemence in her tone as she found her voice once
+more. "Can nothing really be done for her? Has she had good advice?"</p>
+
+<p>"The best in London, I believe," Mrs. Tiddy answered with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"Then money would be no good—" The old lady paused as both her
+companions shook their heads. "Because if it was a question of money
+I would gladly pay any amount for the child's sake," she proceeded
+eagerly. "I—I have taken a great fancy to her. I do not know when I was
+so much attracted by a child before. I would give a great deal if she
+could be made to see."</p>
+
+<p>"Hers is not a case money can touch," Mr. Tiddy responded gravely, "I
+have been assured of that by her parents. As long as her life lasts,
+the little maid will be blind, and she knows it, but she's contented to
+wait. Her eyes will see the King in His beauty by-and-by, and meanwhile
+His love is lightening her darkness and cheering her way. Did you like
+that hymn she sang?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Miss Leighton assented, "but it made me sad. To me, blindness
+seems the heaviest affliction that can fall upon any one."</p>
+
+<p>She glanced out of the window, her expression one of mingled affection
+and pity as her gaze fell upon the little girl who was now leaning over
+the garden gate in the attitude of listening.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, here comes Barnes to escort me home!" she exclaimed. "I have to
+thank you for a very pleasant time," she continued earnestly, looking
+from one of her companions to the other. "I am afraid I shall have no
+opportunity of returning your hospitality now, for I am leaving Higher
+Brimley at the end of the week; but surely, Mr. Tiddy, you sometimes
+bring your wife to town?"</p>
+
+<p>"She has not been back to London since I married her," Mr. Tiddy
+replied smilingly, "and she says she has no desire to go. But I mean
+for us both to take a holiday in the autumn—after the corn harvest—and
+then—"</p>
+
+<p>"And then you will come to London," Miss Leighton interposed quickly,
+"and do come and stay with me. Don't say 'No,' but think it over. It
+would give me so much pleasure to have you for my guests, and you
+should do as you pleased in every way. At any rate, promise you will
+not visit London without seeing me."</p>
+
+<p>"I readily promise that," Mrs. Tiddy answered, secretly much surprised
+at the invitation she and her husband had received. "You are very
+kind—so many thanks. Won't you stay a little longer? Barnes can wait
+for you."</p>
+
+<p>"I think I must go, for I would rather return before dark, and the
+evening is drawing in. There is a mist rising from the sea; I dare say
+it is 'only for heat and pilchards' as you Cornish folk say, but I am
+liable to bronchitis and I fear to be out in a fog."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy escorted their visitor to the garden gate, where
+Barnes was waiting for her, in conversation with Peggy; and five
+minutes later, mistress and maid were climbing the hill towards Higher
+Brimley.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall leave here at the end of the week," Miss Leighton abruptly
+remarked as they neared their destination.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am," replied Barnes, in her usual quiet tone.</p>
+
+<p>"It is my intention to return to town, but I think I shall break our
+journey at Plymouth," Miss Leighton announced. "I may probably stay
+there for a day or so."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied again. Not a muscle of her face moved, nor
+was there any sign to show the delight she experienced as her mistress
+made known her plans, though her heart was palpitating with joy at the
+thought that she might soon have an opportunity of seeing her mother
+and brother.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Leighton was disappointed. She had planned to stop at Plymouth
+solely on her maid's account; but of course, she reflected, Barnes
+could not know that.</p>
+
+<p>"By the way, you have relatives living near Plymouth, have you not?"
+she asked, after a brief hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am—my mother and my brother." Barnes regarded her mistress
+dubiously, then added: "I shall be glad to see them, if you will allow
+me a day to myself, for my mother is very old, and my brother is sorely
+afflicted—he has no mind, or none to speak of. It will be a great
+pleasure to me to go and see them."</p>
+
+<p>"How is it you never mentioned them to me before?" Miss Leighton
+demanded sharply. "You are deeply attached to them, are you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Barnes admitted, "I am." But she did not explain why their names
+had never passed her lips, and her mistress did not ask her again.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_10">CHAPTER X</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>GOOD-BYES</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"HAVE you nearly finished, Barnes?"</p>
+
+<p>The speaker—Miss Leighton—put the question in a querulous tone. She
+had that moment entered her bedroom at Higher Brimley, where her maid
+was engaged in packing her belongings; and, taking off her bonnet and
+cloak, she flung them upon the bed with an irritability of manner which
+showed she had been put out.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered, as she proceeded to lock the last trunk
+and securely fasten its leather straps.</p>
+
+<p>"I have been to Lower Brimley," Miss Leighton announced. "I thought I
+would call and say good-bye to the Tiddys this evening, but they have
+gone to Penzance for the day and taken the child with them."</p>
+
+<p>There was a distinct note of disappointment in her voice, and her face
+wore an expression of mingled annoyance and regret.</p>
+
+<p>"They might have thought that I should call to-day!" she exclaimed,
+vexedly.</p>
+
+<p>"Do they know you are leaving to-morrow, ma'am?" Barnes questioned,
+respectfully.</p>
+
+<p>"I told Mrs. Tiddy I intended leaving at the end of this week: probably
+she imagines that would be on Saturday—not Friday. I should like to
+have said good-bye to little Peggy. Barnes, what I would give if the
+child's parents would consent to my adopting her!"</p>
+
+<p>"Ma'am!" cried Barnes in great astonishment, rising to her feet—she
+had been kneeling to secure the straps of the trunk—and staring at her
+mistress as though she doubted if she had heard aright. "Her mother
+would never permit it!" she declared decisively.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?" queried Miss Leighton, with a frown and a cold
+glance of displeasure.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I don't know, ma'am," Barnes answered quietly, "and
+perhaps I have no right to pass my opinion; but, from what I've heard
+Miss Peggy say herself, I judge that it's very unlikely her mother
+and father would part with her, especially as she's blind. Parents
+generally love an afflicted child so much more dearly than those who
+are better fitted to face the world!" And Barnes's face softened into
+tenderness as she spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"But they will have to provide for her future, and my niece's husband
+is a poor man. If anything happened to him—if he died, his widow
+and children would be penniless, and what would become of Peggy
+then—helpless and blind? Surely if her parents are so deeply attached
+to her, they will consider her interests! I will have nothing to do
+with Margaret herself, but she shall not be a loser if she will allow
+me to adopt Peggy. What do you think of my plan, Barnes?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like it," Barnes responded in a low tone. "No, I don't like
+it," she repeated, gaining courage to speak her mind; "the little girl
+has a happy home, though I suppose it's a poor one, and she's been
+accustomed to a great deal of love—"</p>
+
+<p>"And if I did not love her, should I desire to adopt her?" Miss
+Leighton broke in with unusual impetuosity.</p>
+
+<p>"Your love is not like that which she's had all her life," Barnes said,
+refraining from meeting her mistress's glance. "How can it be, ma'am?
+You've taken a fancy to the child and you want her for your own sake,
+because she's sweet and loveable; but her mother and father will think
+of what's best for her—"</p>
+
+<p>The maid's sentence was never finished—and perhaps it was as well, as
+Miss Leighton's countenance had darkened with anger—for at that moment
+Mrs. Ford knocked at the door with the information that there were
+visitors downstairs. And on descending to her sitting-room, the old
+lady found Mrs. Tiddy and Peggy awaiting her.</p>
+
+<p>"We are so sorry we were not at home when you called, Miss Leighton,"
+said Mrs. Tiddy, "especially as you are leaving to-morrow—I thought you
+would not go till Saturday. We have just returned from Penzance, where
+we have spent the day."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you have had a pleasant time," Miss Leighton remarked genially.
+"But are you not very tired?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think Peggy is," Mrs. Tiddy replied, "but when we heard you had been
+to Lower Brimley in our absence to say good-bye to us, she felt with me
+that we could not let you go without a word of farewell, so we decided
+to come straight on here. We must only stay a few minutes, though, as
+my husband is waiting in the dog-cart outside."</p>
+
+<p>"We have had such a lovely day," Peggy informed Miss Leighton. "We had
+dinner at an hotel, and we rode to Land's End in a Jersey car; Mr.
+Tiddy said I must not go home without having been to Land's End."</p>
+
+<p>"And when do you go home?" Miss Leighton inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"At the end of the month," Peggy answered, "when father is coming to
+fetch me. It has all been arranged. Father is going to take a few days'
+holiday; and I shall be able to show him the sea, and the village, and
+the church on the cliff, and all the poultry and the animals on the
+farm! Oh! I am so much looking forward to that! But I shall be very
+sorry when the time comes to leave Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy and dear old
+Wolf! I shall never forget my visit to Cornwall as long as I live! I
+shall not forget you, either," she went on, taking the old lady's hand
+between her own and pressing it. "I don't suppose we shall ever meet
+again, but I shall remember you—always. I wish you were not unfriendly
+with mother! I am sure she would like to be friendly with you. Don't
+you think, Aunt Caroline, you might forgive her now?"</p>
+
+<p>"Did any one tell you to say this to me?" questioned Miss Leighton
+suspiciously, glancing from the child to Mrs. Tiddy, who looked
+somewhat alarmed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no, no! But it seems so dreadful and—and sad that you and mother
+should not be friends, for I know you used to be kind to her long ago;
+and you have been very kind to me—so different from what I thought you
+were like!"</p>
+
+<p>"It's my great desire to be always kind to you, Peggy," Miss Leighton
+said gravely and impressively. "I wish you to bear that in mind. But
+you must not meddle between your mother and me. Little girls should not
+interfere in matters they do not understand."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy blushed rosy red and her blue eyes filled with tears, but she
+managed to keep them back. She felt snubbed and uncomfortable, and was
+very relieved when Mrs. Tiddy declared they must go. Miss Leighton rose
+to escort her visitors to the garden gate, and, as they were leaving
+the room, Barnes came downstairs. Peggy recognised the maid's step
+immediately, and meet her with extended hands.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, Barnes," she said, adding in a whisper, "I sha'n't forget
+all you told me about your poor brother, and I shall remember always to
+pray for him as I said I would. If you ever see me in London, you'll be
+sure to speak to me, will you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miss," Barnes responded. She glanced hastily around and saw that
+her mistress had followed Mrs. Tiddy out of the front door, then she
+put her arms around Peggy and kissed her. "Good-bye, you dear little
+soul," she said affectionately. "You're going home soon, are you not,
+my dear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Peggy assented happily.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, you'll be glad to be with your mother and father and brother
+again, won't you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed I shall," agreed Peggy.</p>
+
+<p>"There's no place like home and the love we get there—remember that,
+Miss Peggy. It's better to be rich in love than in money, any day!"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course it is," smiled the little girl. "And I shall be very glad to
+be at home again, though Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been as kind as kind
+could be!"</p>
+
+<p>"They're good, kind people, miss; any one can see that, and you've been
+happy with them, I know; but—there, I mustn't keep you any longer!" And
+Barnes kissed Peggy once more and hurried away.</p>
+
+<p>After that, Peggy hastened to join the others at the garden gate. Mrs.
+Tiddy had already taken her place on the front seat of the dog-cart,
+and Mr. Tiddy was shaking hands with Miss Leighton and telling her, in
+his hearty, hospitable way, that she must never pay that district a
+visit without coming to Lower Brimley. She assured him that she never
+would.</p>
+
+<p>"Now then, Peggy. Ready?" he inquired briskly.</p>
+
+<p>The little girl assented, approaching Miss Leighton and holding out her
+hand. She raised her face to the old lady's and received a lingering
+kiss, which she returned rather shyly. Then, Mr. Tiddy lifted her in
+his arms and placed her on the back seat of the dog-cart, bidding her
+keep a firm hold of the rail of the vehicle and not fall out.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, Aunt Caroline!" cried Peggy brightly, waving her hand, as
+they started off for home.</p>
+
+<p>But Miss Leighton made no response. There was a choking sensation in
+her throat, and she dared not attempt to speak for fear her voice
+should betray her emotion. She had a feeling, at that moment, that
+Peggy was going from her for ever, and that made her very sad.</p>
+
+<p>The spring evening was closing in fast now; and, as the dog-cart
+disappeared from sight, Miss Leighton turned and slowly retraced her
+footsteps towards the house, encountering Barnes as she entered the
+front door. The maid looked at her mistress a trifle curiously, and
+received a somewhat defiant glance in return.</p>
+
+<p>"Tell Mrs. Ford I shall require my supper immediately, as I shall have
+to be up early in the morning, and therefore shall go to bed in good
+time to-night, Barnes," Miss Leighton said, in her usual cold tone.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied. "I am glad, ma'am, that Mrs. Tiddy
+brought little Miss Peggy to say good-bye to you," she ventured to add.</p>
+
+<p>"I have said good-bye to the child for the present," Miss Leighton
+responded deliberately; "but she too will soon be returning to town,
+and I have planned that we shall meet again."</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_11">CHAPTER XI</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>HOME AGAIN</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>"I SHOULD think they will be here very soon now!"</p>
+
+<p>The speaker was Mrs. Pringle, who stood at the sitting-room window of
+her home, looking out into the narrow street, one cold, wet, spring
+evening. Her arm was around Billy's shoulders; and the little boy's
+face, which wore an expression of eager watchfulness, was pressed close
+to the window-pane.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Billy answered, "I hope so. It always seems so long when one is
+waiting, doesn't it, mother? How it is raining!"</p>
+
+<p>"I wish it had been a finer evening for Peggy's return," Mrs. Pringle
+remarked. "We must keep the fire up."</p>
+
+<p>She moved back from the window and put mare coals into the grate.</p>
+
+<p>"We will give our little Sunbeam a warm welcome, at any rate," she
+added with a smile.</p>
+
+<p>All day, she had gone about her household duties with the happiest
+of hearts, and every now and again she had run upstairs to make sure
+that Peggy's bedroom was quite in order. For her husband, who had gone
+to Cornwall a few days previously, was expected to bring his little
+daughter home that night. Needless to say, Billy was no less delighted
+than his mother at the prospect of so soon seeing Peggy again; whilst
+Sarah, in the kitchen, had opened the door, that she might hear the
+expected cab pull up before the house, and kept the kettle on the boil
+in readiness to make tea the minute the travellers should arrive.</p>
+
+<p>"Here they are!" cried Billy excitedly, at last, and, followed by his
+mother, he rushed into the passage, almost colliding with Sarah, who
+was hurrying from the kitchen, and flung wide the front door, admitting
+as he did so a blast of cold wind.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't go out into the rain, Billy," advised Mrs. Pringle, her face
+aglow with expectancy. "See, your father is lifting Peggy out of the
+cab; he will bring her straight in."</p>
+
+<p>The next minute, Peggy was in her mother's arms, rapturously returning
+her mother's welcoming kiss; then came Billy's turn to be embraced,
+and after that, Sarah's. The little girl's countenance was one beam of
+happiness, and her cheeks were so rosy that her brother gazed at her in
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Peggy, how you've altered!" he cried. "And I do believe you've
+grown!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm sure she has," Mrs. Pringle agreed. "She is looking remarkably
+well. She left home as white as a lily, and she has returned like a
+red, red rose."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you glad I've come home?" Peggy asked, not because she was in the
+least doubtful on the point, but because it was so sweet to know she
+had been missed and how welcome was her presence at home once more.</p>
+
+<p>"Glad?" exclaimed Billy, "I should think we are! We've all of us missed
+you most dreadfully, Peggy. Even Mr. Maloney noticed that the house
+seemed quite different without you!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but now our little Sunbeam has returned to us," Mrs. Pringle said
+lovingly, "and it is such happiness to have her given back to us well
+and strong!"</p>
+
+<p>"And has no one a welcome for me?" asked Mr. Pringle at that point.
+He had seen about the luggage and dismissed the cabman, and now stood
+regarding the excited group with a glance half humorous, half tender.
+"Have you forgotten that you have not seen me for three whole days?
+Never mind," he continued, after he had kissed his wife and his little
+son, "I am content to take the second place to-night. But Peggy and I
+are both tired and hungry; so, suppose we have our tea at once—as soon
+as Peggy has removed her wraps."</p>
+
+<p>A very pleasant meal followed; and afterwards the family drew round the
+fireplace, in a circle, to talk.</p>
+
+<p>"I've so much to tell you, that I don't know where to begin," Peggy
+remarked. "Oh, I do think the very nicest part of going away on a visit
+is the coming home again!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a general laugh at that, and Mr. Pringle said:</p>
+
+<p>"That's good hearing, my dear. We left Cornwall bathed in glorious
+sunshine this morning," he continued, addressing his wife. "Your
+schoolfellow's home is in a most beautiful spot. I cannot express how
+greatly I have enjoyed my three days' holiday at Lower Brimley. Both
+Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been kindness itself, and never shall we be
+able to repay them for all they have done for Peggy!"</p>
+
+<p>"I was—oh, so sorry to say good-bye to them," the little girl said
+soberly, "and there was Wolf—poor Wolf! He had to be shut up in the
+stable for fear he would follow us to the station and want to go by
+train. He is such a dear, dear dog! You will love him, Billy, when you
+see him!"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think I shall ever see him, Peggy?" Billy asked, anxiously. "Do
+you really think Mr. Tiddy will remember to invite me to Lower Brimley
+in the summer holidays?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am sure he will," the little girl replied positively. "I heard him
+mention it several times; he won't forget, he always keeps his word."</p>
+
+<p>"And what about Aunt Caroline?" Mrs. Pringle at length asked. "I was
+never more surprised in my life than when I heard you and she had met!"</p>
+
+<p>"Was it not strange?" Peggy said seriously. "You know she came from
+Penzance on purpose to see Mr. Tiddy's daffodils, and she was so
+pleased with them."</p>
+
+<p>"Did she find out who you were, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no—not until long after that—when she was lodging at Higher
+Brimley. I met her on the beach and she spoke to me, and—and I talked
+rather much, for I told her my name—she asked me, I think—and all about
+my accident. Even then she didn't say who she was. But afterwards she
+came to Lower Brimley and asked permission to go around the garden—Mr.
+Tiddy had told her she might—and Mrs. Tiddy and I went with her, and
+just before she left she said I was distantly related to her and
+explained who she was. After that, she was very nice and kind to
+me—very kind indeed!"</p>
+
+<p>"But you don't like her, Peggy, do you?" cried Billy. "I thought her
+such a proud, cross old woman!"</p>
+
+<p>"She speaks in rather a proud way sometimes," Peggy allowed
+reluctantly, "but she isn't cross when you know her—at least, she
+wasn't to me. She said she wouldn't have driven away so quickly after I
+had been knocked down by her horse, if she had known I was blind. Yes,
+I rather like her, but I don't suppose I shall ever meet her again,
+though I should like to. And then there's Barnes—"</p>
+
+<p>"Barnes? Is she still with Aunt Caroline?" broke in Mrs. Pringle,
+eagerly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," nodded Peggy, "and she asked me such a lot of questions about
+you, mother. I like Barnes. She told me about her poor afflicted
+brother, and—wasn't it strange?—Aunt Caroline had never heard of him
+till I happened to speak of him to her."</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say not, my dear," Mrs. Pringle answered, evincing no surprise.
+"I remember about poor Barnes's brother," she proceeded. "He is not
+right in his mind, and Barnes helps support him and her mother too. The
+mother must be a very aged woman now."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," the little girl answered. "Poor Barnes! Aunt Caroline used to
+speak so sharply to her sometimes—I heard her—but that is her way, I
+suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"It used to be," Mrs. Pringle admitted with a sigh, "and, from what you
+tell me, I imagine she has not altered much these last ten years."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think she's a bit happy," Peggy said, shaking her golden head.
+"That seems very sad, doesn't it? Barnes told the servants at Lower
+Brimley that Aunt Caroline has no friends, because she always thinks
+people who are nice to her want her money."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Pringle understandingly, with a quick glance at
+her husband. "Poor Aunt Caroline!"</p>
+
+<p>She sat in silence after that, listening whilst Peggy expatiated at
+great length upon all the delights of life at a farm. Billy drank in
+every word with keen interest, reflecting that some day, not so very
+distant, he would most likely enjoy his share of the pleasures which
+his sister explained so marvellously—considering she had been unable to
+see.</p>
+
+<p>"I know everything was very beautiful," she said, in conclusion, "for
+there seemed to be flowers everywhere, and the scent of the gorse on
+the cliffs was wonderful—I never smelt anything so sweet or strong
+before! And the air was so warm, and the sun shone nearly every day,
+and—"</p>
+
+<p>"And now you have come back to rain and cold," interposed Mrs. Pringle;
+"you will feel it a hardship, I fear, after the mild climate you've
+enjoyed of late and after having spent so much time out-of-doors, to be
+cooped up in a small house again."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't mind the rain and the cold in the very least," Peggy declared,
+"and I love our little house. Oh, I'm so glad to be at home! Yes,
+indeed I am! I've enjoyed my visit to Cornwall; but I think I've missed
+you all as much or more than you have missed me. I'm glad I went, but
+I'm gladder still to be back again—to be able to hear your voices and
+put out my hands and feel you are here! You would understand what that
+means, if you were blind. Oh, I think I was never so happy in my life
+before as I am to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Thank God for that, my darling," Mrs. Pringle responded in a tremulous
+voice. "Oh, we have much to thank Him for!" she added softly, as
+she remembered the pale, delicate little girl she had seen off at
+Paddington railway station with a very heavy heart six weeks previously
+and mentally compared her with the one—a picture of health and
+contentment—who now nestled close to her side. She had prayed—oh, so
+earnestly!—that Peggy might be restored to her well and strong, and her
+Father in Heaven had answered her prayer.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_12">CHAPTER XII</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>AUNT CAROLINE'S DISAPPOINTMENT</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>THE first few days after Peggy's return home were very wet and cold,
+although it was late spring. But one morning, she arose conscious of a
+change in the atmosphere and that the sun was shining into her bedroom
+window, whilst the sparrows were twittering noisily outside as though
+they had matters of great importance to discuss with each other.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we are going to have a taste of spring weather at last,"
+observed Mr. Pringle at the breakfast table that morning. "There's the
+promise of a beautiful May day, and I hope," he continued, addressing
+his wife, "that you will manage to get out for a while in the
+sunshine—you and Peggy."</p>
+
+<p>"I want to do so," Mrs. Pringle replied. "I have some shopping to do
+first of all, and afterwards we may, perhaps, extend our walk."</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly Peggy and her mother spent most of the morning
+out-of-doors. They were both in excellent spirits, and though, of
+course, they had to take their walk in the streets, they thoroughly
+enjoyed it. Mrs. Pringle looked into the shops and told her little
+daughter what the windows contained; and they bought a bunch of
+wallflowers from a costermonger's barrow, for a penny, which smelt
+almost as sweet as those at Lower Brimley, Peggy declared, and she
+wondered if they had come from Cornwall—that corner of the world which,
+to the blind child, would always be remembered as a paradise of flowers.</p>
+
+<p>Then, on their way home, they encountered Mr. Maloney, whom Peggy had
+not met since her return. He turned and walked with them as far as
+their own door, listening with a rather preoccupied air, Mrs. Pringle
+thought, to the little girl's chatter, and watching her animated
+countenance with an expression of grave scrutiny in his kindly eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"I want a private conversation with you and your husband, Mrs.
+Pringle," he remarked. "If I call this evening, shall I find you both
+disengaged?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," she assented, adding anxiously, "there is nothing wrong, is
+there? You have no bad news to tell us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, no!" he responded, with a reassuring smile. "Please do not imagine
+that for a moment. I will call this evening, then, about seven."</p>
+
+<p>Peggy wondered what Mr. Maloney could have to say to her parents in
+private. And Mr. Pringle expressed astonishment when his wife informed
+him at dinner-time of the reason the Vicar had assigned for his
+proposed call. Whilst Billy, though he made no remark, was filled with
+intense curiosity, and by the evening had become quite excited, and
+found great difficulty in concentrating his mind to prepare his lessons
+for the following day.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Pringle had given orders that the Vicar was to be shown into the
+music-room, as the small apartment was called which was apportioned
+to the use of the master of the house. And as soon as Mrs. Pringle,
+who had been sewing in the sitting-room, heard Sarah admit Mr. Maloney
+punctually at the hour he had appointed, she laid aside her work, and
+the next moment, the children were alone.</p>
+
+<p>Billy continued to pore over his lesson books, whilst Peggy sat
+opposite to him at the table, her busy fingers engaged in knitting a
+sock, one of a pair she was making for her father. Sarah had taught the
+little girl the accomplishment of knitting during the long evenings
+of the previous winter, and the pupil did her teacher great credit.
+There had been silence in the room, except for the click of Peggy's
+knitting-needles, for some minutes, when the little girl suddenly
+dropped her work, and springing to her feet, stood listening intently.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?" asked Billy, glancing at her quickly, and noting that she
+had grown very pale. "What do you hear?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing, now," she answered tremulously. "But I thought—I thought—I
+suppose it was my fancy!"</p>
+
+<p>"What did you think you heard?" he questioned curiously. "Why, you have
+turned quite white! What startled you, Peggy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I thought I heard mother crying, but I suppose I was wrong. I don't
+hear anything now."</p>
+
+<p>Billy went to the door, opened it, and listened; but nothing could be
+heard except a murmur of voices from the music-room. He shut the door
+and returned to the table.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should mother cry?" he demanded, uneasily.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you tell me Mr. Maloney said nothing was wrong?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Peggy responded, "and he wouldn't have deceived us, I know."</p>
+
+<p>"Then mother wouldn't cry for nothing!"</p>
+
+<p>"I expect it was my mistake, Billy."</p>
+
+<p>More than half an hour passed—an hour—and at last the children heard
+the music-room door open and footsteps in the passage. Then the front
+door opened and shut, and a moment afterwards, Mr. and Mrs. Pringle
+entered the sitting-room without their visitor.</p>
+
+<p>One glance at his mother told Billy that his sister's sharp ears
+had not deceived her, for there were traces of recent tears on Mrs.
+Pringle's face. She crossed the room and took a chair by her little
+daughter's side, and her voice bespoke strong emotion as she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Peggy, dear, we have decided to tell you what brought Mr. Maloney here
+to-night. Yesterday, he had a visit from Aunt Caroline, who wishes
+to—to—"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I know!" cried Peggy joyfully, as her mother hesitated. "She
+wishes to be friendly with you, mother! Isn't it that?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, dear," Mrs. Pringle replied sadly. "She has no desire to have
+anything to do with any of us but you. She would like to adopt you,
+Peggy—to have you to live with her—"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh mother!" broke in the little girl. "No! No!"</p>
+
+<p>"That is what she wishes. She offers to bring you up and provide for
+you, and to make you a rich woman some day. But your father and I have
+declined her offer, Peggy darling. We will keep our little daughter and
+trust to Providence to take care of her future."</p>
+
+<p>"You have been crying," said Peggy distressfully, "and I can hear the
+tears in your voice now. Oh, don't cry, mother! What can Aunt Caroline
+be thinking of, to imagine you and father would let her adopt me! As
+though I could leave you all to go and live with her!"</p>
+
+<p>"I knew she was a nasty old woman!" cried Billy, in tones of the
+greatest indignation. "And now I know she is cruel too! It is cruel of
+her to wish to take Peggy away from us! And the idea of her going to
+Mr. Maloney and—"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, Billy!" admonished Mr. Pringle. "She went to Mr. Maloney because
+she knew he was our friend," he proceeded. "You must not misjudge her;
+certainly she did not mean to be cruel. I have no doubt she imagines
+she is acting kindly; but she does not understand us or realise that
+Peggy would not be happy separated from the members of her own family.
+We have talked over Miss Leighton's offer with Mr. Maloney, and we have
+declined it. I think we are right, and Mr. Maloney thinks so too; but
+he could not well refuse to put Miss Leighton's offer before us, as
+she had made a point of his doing so. To-morrow he will give her our
+reply, and I fear she will be very angry as well as disappointed; but
+we cannot part with our little Sunbeam," he concluded tenderly.</p>
+
+<p>"Did she want me to live with her altogether?" Peggy asked wonderingly,
+taking her mother's hand and holding it in a firm clasp.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, dear. She said you might come home sometimes—that she would not
+object to your coming to see us now and again, but—oh, Peggy, Peggy!"
+And poor Mrs. Pringle caught the little girl in her arms and kissed her
+passionately. "I hope we haven't been selfish," she continued, "but God
+gave you to us, and I cannot think it would be right to give you up
+for the sake of worldly advantages. No, I cannot think that! You have
+always had a happy home, have you not, Peggy?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, so happy!" the little girl answered earnestly. "Why do you cry,
+mother—when I am not going to leave you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am very foolish, I dare say," said Mrs. Pringle. "But it hurts me to
+think Aunt Caroline could imagine I would give up my own child."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor woman, she over-estimates the worth of her money," Mr. Pringle
+remarked, with a pitying note in his voice. "She does not understand
+that there are things even in this world not to be purchased with gold."</p>
+
+<p>"Why should she want to adopt me?" questioned Peggy wonderingly,
+turning her flushed face towards her father. "It is not even as though
+I wasn't blind! Why doesn't she adopt some little girl who has no
+mother or father or brother to love her? Why should she want me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because, somehow, you have touched a soft spot in her heart, little
+Sunbeam," Mr. Pringle answered. "I can think of no other reason. Poor
+Miss Leighton! I am afraid she will be very disappointed when she hears
+we cannot favour her plan."</p>
+
+<p>"Poor Aunt Caroline!" sighed Peggy. "Why can't she be friendly with us
+all, and come and see us and be nice like she was when she came to tea
+at Lower Brimley?" And she shook her head sorrowfully as she thought of
+the old lady, so rich in money, so poor in other ways.</p>
+
+<p>Billy, looking at his sister, wondered at the regretful expression of
+her face. He could not tell, and he certainly would have been amazed,
+had he known that her tender heart was ready to pour a portion of the
+wealth of its affection upon her whom he regarded, not unnaturally,
+as one of the proudest and most disagreeable of people, and he felt
+triumphant as he reflected that Miss Leighton would be disappointed at
+finding herself balked in her selfish plan.</p>
+
+<p>When, on the following day, Miss Leighton heard from Mr. Maloney that
+Mr. and Mrs. Pringle had considered her offer and courteously declined
+it, she made no comment on their decision whatever. But she was even
+more disappointed than Billy had anticipated she would be, and there
+was more of sorrow than of anger in her heart. Briefly she informed
+Barnes that Peggy's parents had refused to allow her to adopt the child.</p>
+
+<p>"You were right, Barnes," she admitted with a sigh. "You thought my
+niece would refuse my offer, did you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered briefly. She said no more, for in her
+heart she was confident that Peggy would be better and happier at home.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_13">CHAPTER XIII</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>FOR many months, the Pringle family heard no more of Miss Leighton.
+Spring gave place to summer; and in the early autumn Billy paid his
+visit to Cornwall, returning, after a never-to-be forgotten six weeks'
+holiday, with Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy, who spent a short while in London,
+during which time they went to see Miss Leighton, mindful of the
+promise which they had made to her.</p>
+
+<p>But, although the old lady received her Cornish acquaintances with
+every sign of cordiality and pleasure, she never once mentioned Peggy,
+and when Mrs. Tiddy spoke of her, she quickly changed the conversation,
+so that her visitors came to the conclusion that her liking for the
+little blind girl had been merely a passing fancy, and that she had
+lost the interest she had certainly once entertained for the child.
+Such, however, was not the case.</p>
+
+<p>It was the end of September when the Tiddys returned to their Cornish
+home; and shortly afterwards Miss Leighton had a long and serious
+illness, the result of a neglected cold. When she had recovered and
+was able to dispense with the services of the trained nurse, who, with
+Barnes, had nursed her back to health, it was December, and every one
+was preparing for Christmas.</p>
+
+<p>The season of peace and goodwill never brought much happiness to Miss
+Leighton nowadays; but it made many calls upon her purse. And when
+she had written several cheques to be sent to the various charities
+to which she was a regular contributor, she generally considered she
+had done all that could be reasonably expected of her for her fellow
+creatures.</p>
+
+<p>But this year, as she sat by the fire in the drawing-room of her London
+house, one afternoon about a week before Christmas, a sense of unusual
+dissatisfaction with herself began to creep over her. Memory was busy
+with her; and, gazing into the fire, she pictured a little figure clad
+in a shabby blue serge coat and skirt and a Tam o' Shanter cap, and saw
+once more a fair face with a halo of golden curls around it—a happy
+face, beautiful with that inward peace and light which only God can
+give. Then, in her imagination, she heard a clear, child's voice say:</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't think she can be really charitable, if she isn't kind in
+little ways and if she's unforgiving!"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Leighton winced as she recalled the words and the decided tone
+in which they had been uttered. How the child's judgment of her had
+rankled in her heart! It had hurt her at the time it had been given,
+though she had never resented it: it hurt her a great deal more now.</p>
+
+<p>"I would have been kind to Peggy, if her parents would have let me,"
+she thought. "There is nothing I would have denied her. I should like
+to do something to please her—to add to her happiness this Christmas.
+How I should like to see her again! She was such a bright, contented
+little girl! When I was ill, she was continually in my thoughts, and
+one night, I fancied I heard her singing that hymn about light at
+evening time—she has a very sweet voice. I wonder if Margaret would let
+the child come and see me? I hardly like to ask her a favour, but I
+long to see Peggy once more. Ah, here's Barnes!"</p>
+
+<p>The maid had been to match some silks for a piece of fancy-work her
+mistress was making; but Miss Leighton was not in the mood to look at
+her purchases now.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, Barnes," she said. "I want to speak to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied, taking a chair and glancing at her
+mistress inquiringly. There was a better understanding between these
+two than there had been formerly, for each had discovered of late, that
+the other had a heart; and Barnes had nursed Miss Leighton devotedly
+during her long illness, a fact Miss Leighton was not likely to forget.</p>
+
+<p>"I suppose the shops are very gay?" Miss Leighton questioned.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am, they are full of Christmas presents."</p>
+
+<p>"And doubtless you've made some purchases to send to your mother and
+brother?"</p>
+
+<p>Barnes assented, a pleased flush rising to her pale cheeks at the
+unusual kindness of her mistress's tone. She was emboldened to give
+Miss Leighton a list of the articles she had bought to send home to her
+people.</p>
+
+<p>"I pack up a hamper for them every Christmas," she explained in
+conclusion, "and my poor brother is always so excited to see it
+unpacked."</p>
+
+<p>"But would it not be much less trouble to you to send your mother the
+money you spend and let her buy what she wants herself?" Miss Leighton
+inquired.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps so, ma'am; but that would not be half so much pleasure to
+mother or to me. I like thinking and planning how I shall fill the
+hamper with those things which I know will be most acceptable, and when
+mother receives it and takes out its contents, she knows I've borne her
+wants in mind. I've knitted her a nice warm shawl, and she'll be much
+prouder of it, because I've made it, than if I'd bought it ready made."</p>
+
+<p>"I see, Barnes. I wonder what sort of Christmas my little grand-niece
+will spend."</p>
+
+<p>Barnes started, and a somewhat guilty expression crossed her
+countenance as she answered hurriedly:</p>
+
+<p>"A very happy one, I expect. Children mostly love Christmas time, and
+she has a very happy home."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?" Miss Leighton asked suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>"I— I've been there, ma'am. I went to St. John's one Sunday afternoon
+to hear Mr. Maloney preach at a children's service, and I saw Miss
+Peggy there with her mother and brother. After the service, outside the
+church, I spoke to them, and Mrs. Pringle asked me to their house to
+have a cup of tea—and I went."</p>
+
+<p>"Well?" said Miss Leighton, with repressed eagerness in her voice.
+"What is the place like?"</p>
+
+<p>"The house, ma'am? It's one of a terrace, very small but comfortable
+and homely. Perhaps I ought to have told you that I'd been there, but I
+did not like to mention it."</p>
+
+<p>"Has my niece altered much?" Miss Leighton asked after a brief pause.</p>
+
+<p>"No, ma'am, very little. She inquired for you and looked so sorry when
+she heard how ill you'd been, and Miss Peggy said—" Barnes paused
+abruptly in some confusion.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what did Miss Peggy say? I insist upon your telling me."</p>
+
+<p>"She said, 'Poor Aunt Caroline! How dreadful it would have been if she
+had died and we had never known! How I wish she would be friends with
+us all! She used to be so nice in Cornwall.' That's what she said,
+ma'am, shaking her curly head—you remember how she used to do that?
+It's natural she shouldn't understand how you feel towards her mother."</p>
+
+<p>Miss Leighton sighed. During her late illness she had been brought
+face to face with death; and, for the first time, doubts of herself
+had assailed her, and she had seen her unforgiving spirit in its true
+light. Pride had always been her stumbling-block through life; and it
+had been her pride which had suffered when her niece, to whom in her
+way she had really been attached, had elected to marry the hardworking
+music-master who was now the organist of St. John's.</p>
+
+<p>Her only reason for objecting to Mr. Pringle as her niece's husband
+had been because he had been poor. She had always thought so much of
+riches, but they had never brought her happiness; as a matter of fact,
+they had stood between her and her fellow creatures, they had warped
+her sympathies; and sadly and regretfully, the woman of great wealth
+admitted to herself that though she had given her money to clothe the
+naked and feed the poor, it had profited her nothing, for the spirit of
+charity had never been hers.</p>
+
+<p>"I am an old woman, and no one cares for me," she thought. "The love I
+might have had, I deliberately put away. I should not be lonely to-day,
+if I had not cast Margaret aside when she married. How she wept when I
+said I would never willingly look on her face again, and I thought it
+was my money she was regretting, not me!"</p>
+
+<p>Aloud she said:</p>
+
+<p>"Does Mr. Maloney hold a children's service every Sunday afternoon,
+Barnes?"</p>
+
+<p>Then, as Barnes assented, she continued: "I have heard high praises of
+his preaching, and I should like to hear one of his sermons. If I go to
+St. John's next Sunday afternoon, will you accompany me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly, ma'am," Barnes responded promptly, her face showing the
+intense amazement she felt. She regarded her mistress with anxious
+scrutiny, marvelling at the softened expression on her countenance. She
+hoped she was not going to be ill again.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps we shall see Miss Peggy there," she proceeded; "but, if so,
+I expect her mother will be with her. I suppose you will not speak to
+them, ma'am?"</p>
+
+<p>"I cannot tell," Miss Leighton answered musingly. "I—I shall be guided
+by circumstances."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, ma'am!" cried Barnes eagerly. "Don't be angry with me for saying
+this; but, if you could bring yourself to forgive Mrs. Pringle—"</p>
+
+<p>"That will do," broke in Miss Leighton with a return of her usual
+imperious manner. "I can imagine what you were about to say. No, I'm
+not angry. You're a well-meaning soul, Barnes, but—you may go!"</p>
+
+<p>Barnes needed no second bidding. She slipped quietly out of the room,
+fearing she had done more harm than good; whilst Miss Leighton leaned
+back in her easy chair, a prey to anxious thoughts. She had said she
+would go to St. John's on the following Sunday, and she meant to keep
+her word, for she really was curious to hear Mr. Maloney preach, and
+she hoped she might at any rate catch a glimpse of Peggy, though she
+determined, now, that she would not speak to her. How could she ignore
+the mother and notice the child?</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<h3><a id="Chapter_14">CHAPTER XIV</a></h3>
+
+<p class="t3">
+<em>CONCLUSION</em><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><br></p>
+
+<p>IT was Sunday afternoon. The children's service at St. John's was
+nearly at an end; and now the Vicar had ascended into the pulpit to
+address a few simple words to his congregation before giving out the
+number of the concluding hymn. He took for his text the Saviour's
+promise, "He that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness," and, in
+the first place, reminded his hearers that in a very few days, they
+would be commemorating the birth of Him Who is called "The Light of the
+World." Would they not try to follow Him? he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Then he pictured the childhood of Jesus, and many a pair of bright
+young eyes grew earnest and thoughtful as their owners' interest was
+chained by the story which the Vicar knew so well how to tell, pointing
+out to the children that the Christ-Child should be their pattern,
+that, like Him, they should be good, and kind, and obedient. And that,
+if they trusted in Him, He would be their Saviour and their Friend.</p>
+
+<p>Finally, he explained that darkness meant selfishness and sin, and that
+the child who was untruthful, or dishonest, or unkind, was walking in
+darkness, apart from God. And that to follow Jesus, they must learn to
+be gentle, and pitiful, and loving, and faithful in word and deed: then
+would Christ's promise be for them—"He that followeth Me shall not walk
+in darkness!"</p>
+
+<p>It was a very short sermon, but so simple that no child could fail to
+understand it; and when it was over, and the Vicar descended from the
+pulpit, Peggy Pringle, who, seated by her brother's side, had listened
+to every word Mr. Maloney had said with the closest attention, turned
+her face to Billy with a pleased smile curving her lips, and thus
+allowed an old lady close behind her, a sight of her profile.</p>
+
+<p>The old lady, who was no other than Miss Leighton, felt her heart begin
+to beat unevenly as she recognised Peggy. She had been on the lookout
+for her all through the service; but the church was so full of children
+that she had not picked out her little great-niece amongst so many, and
+lo! All the while she had been within reach of her hand.</p>
+
+<p>In another minute the congregation had arisen, and with a dream-like
+sensation, Miss Leighton once more listened to the same hymn Peggy had
+sung to her in Cornwall months before:</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+<br>"Holy Father, cheer our way<br>
+&nbsp;With Thy love's perpetual ray:<br>
+&nbsp;Grant us every closing day<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Light at evening time."<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Tears dimmed the old lady's eyes, and a softening influence stole
+into her proud heart; and when, at the conclusion of the hymn, the
+congregation knelt in prayer, Miss Leighton covered her face with her
+hands and prayed fervently that she, who had walked in darkness so
+long, might be guided into the way of light.</p>
+
+<p>"Barnes, I must speak to Peggy," she said in an agitated voice, as she
+and her maid left the church and stood under the lamp outside. "Do not
+let her pass us by."</p>
+
+<p>"She is with her brother, ma'am," Barnes answered. "I do not think Mrs.
+Pringle is here."</p>
+
+<p>At that instant Peggy and Billy appeared, hand in hand, and Miss
+Leighton stepped quickly forward; but, immediately, Billy put himself
+between her and his sister.</p>
+
+<p>"Go away!" he cried indignantly, for he had recognised Miss Leighton,
+and the wild idea that she might wish to lure Peggy away from him, then
+and there had flashed through his mind. "I'm not going to let you touch
+her!"</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" demanded Miss Leighton in surprise. "Peggy! It's
+I—Aunt Caroline! Won't you speak to me, child?"</p>
+
+<p>At the sound of the well-remembered voice the little girl flushed
+rosily, a look of astonishment and—Miss Leighton saw she was not
+mistaken—of joy lighting up her face; seeing which, Billy allowed her
+to receive the old lady's warm embrace, though he still retained a firm
+grasp of her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"How are you, Peggy?" Miss Leighton began. "You look very well," she
+continued, without waiting for a reply. "We—Barnes and I—came to hear
+your friend Mr. Maloney preach, and I thought I should like a word with
+you. We sat close behind you in church."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you?" said Peggy, smiling. "Wasn't it a nice sermon? And we had my
+favourite hymn! Oh, Aunt Caroline," she proceeded sympathetically, "we
+were so sorry to hear you had been ill. Are you really quite well now?
+Yes. Oh, I'm so glad! Oh, Barnes, how do you do? Aunt Caroline, this is
+Billy. Billy, you remember Aunt Caroline, don't you? You know you saw
+her once before and you said you would know her again."</p>
+
+<p>Billy had no alternative but to shake hands with Miss Leighton. And,
+now he came to regard her more closely, she did not look the sort of
+person who would steal his sister from him. He thought he read goodwill
+towards himself in her face, as he scrutinised it in the light of the
+lamp near which they were standing, and she showed no resentment for
+the decidedly rude way in which he had treated her, the real fact
+being that she had guessed the impulse which had prompted his strange
+behaviour. For some minutes, he watched her talking to Peggy whilst
+Barnes stood aside patiently waiting. Then, he reminded his sister that
+if they did not go home, their mother would wonder what had become of
+them.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," agreed Peggy, "we mustn't wait any longer. Mother's at home
+alone—it's Sarah's afternoon out—and she's always anxious if we're
+later than she expects us."</p>
+
+<p>"One moment more," said Miss Leighton. "I must wish you a very happy
+Christmas before we part, and I want you to tell me what I can give
+you for a present. Choose whatever you like. And Billy—he must choose
+something too!"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, how kind of you!" cried Peggy. Whilst Billy's eyes glistened
+with delight, and a look of approval settled on his face—approval of
+this great-aunt of his, against whom he had entertained such a strong
+prejudice before.</p>
+
+<p>"I want to do something to add to your happiness," Miss Leighton said,
+in a voice which trembled with an emotion which she tried in vain to
+repress.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you, Aunt Caroline?" the little girl questioned earnestly. "Do you,
+indeed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my dear—"</p>
+
+<p>"Then if you really and truly want to add to my happiness," Peggy broke
+in excitedly, "you'll come home with us now—we've not far to go—and be
+friends with mother again! Oh, do come! It grieves mother dreadfully to
+think you're angry with her! But, you're not angry any longer, are you?"</p>
+
+<p>Miss Leighton could not say she was, for her bitterness against Peggy's
+mother had been slowly fading away since she had known Peggy herself.
+Her head was in a whirl with conflicting thoughts. But she felt she
+must accept or decline her little niece's invitation at once—she could
+not discuss it there in the street.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear, I cannot—" she was beginning, when a rush of tenderer,
+better feelings than she had experienced for years filled her heart
+and caused her to hesitate. She looked at Peggy's expectant face with
+its sightless blue eyes, and the last remnant of her pride died away,
+though she repeated, "I cannot, I cannot!"</p>
+
+<p>But the sharp ears of the blind child had caught the note of indecision
+in the other's tone, and taking the old lady by the hand she said
+persuasively:</p>
+
+<p>"Come, Aunt Caroline, we will go on, and Barnes and Billy will follow.
+I know the way quite well. Oh, do come!"</p>
+
+<p>And, much to Barnes's astonishment, and Billy's intense excitement,
+Miss Leighton answered in a voice which no longer wavered, but had
+become decided and firm:</p>
+
+<p>"To please you, little Sunbeam, I will!"</p>
+
+<p>
+<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;*&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+&nbsp;&nbsp;*<br>
+<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>"Here's wonderful news from the Pringles!" exclaimed Mrs. Tiddy on
+Christmas morning, as she stood in the hall at Lower Brimley, ready
+to start for church with her husband, and glanced hastily through the
+letter she held in her hand—one of several which the postman had just
+delivered. "I cannot stay to read all Margaret says now, but I see she
+has had a visit from her aunt, and there must have been a complete
+reconciliation, for—fancy, Ebenezer!—the old lady is going to dine with
+them to-day!"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm heartily glad to hear it," Mr. Tiddy responded. "Depend upon it,
+Peggy has brought that about—the reconciliation, I mean. But come, my
+dear, or we shall be late for church."</p>
+
+<p>Then as they passed down the garden path, side by side, he continued:</p>
+
+<p>"I always felt there was One above Who arranged that Miss Leighton and
+Peggy should meet here and get to know each other. I expect the old
+lady will have a happier Christmas to-day than she has had for many a
+long year."</p>
+
+<p>And Mr. Tiddy was right, for this year, Miss Leighton found fresh
+beauty in the angels' message of peace and goodwill, and her Christmas
+Day was a very happy one, spent in her niece's home. God had softened
+her proud heart by the unconscious influence of the blind child, and He
+was granting her light in the evening time of her life. Miss Leighton
+had never felt so rich before as she did on this Christmas Day.</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<p>PRINTED BY</p>
+
+<p>SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE</p>
+
+<p>LONDON</p>
+
+<p><br><br><br></p>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LITTLE SUNBEAM ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>