The Project Gutenberg eBook of A golden thread
Title: A golden thread
Author: Marian Isabel Hurrell
Release date: June 26, 2025 [eBook #76385]
Language: English
Original publication: London: The Epworth Press, 1927
Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.
A GOLDEN THREAD
BY
MARIAN ISABEL HURRELL
London
THE EPWORTH PRESS
J. ALFRED SHARP
Printed in 1927.
———————————————————
MADE AND PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY
RUSH & WARWICK, HARPUR PRINTING WORKS, BEDFORD.
CONTENTS
CHAP.
A GOLDEN THREAD
CHAPTER I.
Eileen and the Editor.
"PLEASE are you Mr. Charlton, the editor of 'Sunny Hours?'"
The fourteen-year-old girl who put the question—Eileen Bannister by name—looked a little puzzled as she spoke.
The man who had just risen from a deck-chair under the shadow of a tree was not Eileen's idea of an editor at all: she had expected to see some one much older.
"Yes," was the answer, pleasantly spoken, "I am; what can I do for you?"
"Oh, please," replied Eileen, who was carrying a long and rather bulky envelope in her hand, "I want to talk to you for five minutes, if I may. I won't stay longer, because an editor's time is precious, and besides the others are all waiting for me in the lane."
"Take this chair, Miss—er—' began Derrick Charlton, placing his own at her disposal.
"My name is Eileen Bannister," supplied the girl, "and I write stories."
Here a flush came into her intelligent little face—Eileen was small for her age.
"But I won't take your chair," she went on politely; "this seat where your papers are will do for me."
So saying, Eileen, who was not troubled with shyness, removed the papers with respectful care to a wicker table near by, and seated herself for a five minutes' chat.
Mr. Charlton, almost against his will, began to feel interested and amused.
"And so you write stories, do you?" he said. "But how came you to track me here?"
"I was going up to the house to call upon you," was the answer, "only I saw you on the lawn, and so—"
"I don't mean that," interrupted Mr. Charlton; "I am wondering how it is that you knew anything at all about me. I came to this out-of-the-world spot, by doctor's orders, for a holiday—not to read or write a single story.'
"Oh, I 'am' sorry," said Eileen; "perhaps I had better go away at once."
"No, the five minutes 'aren't' up yet. Tell me how you came to know of my whereabouts."
"Well, it was like this: Mrs. Stannard, your landlady, told our maid Sarah all about you, and we were ever so interested."
"Oh indeed! As you know so much about me, don't you think you might tell me a little about yourself?"
"Yes, if you would like to hear," said Eileen, nothing loth. "There are four of us. I'm the eldest; and after me comes Edward—we call him Teddy for short; then there's Nora and Frank. Daddy is away just now doing some work for his firm in America—he is illustrating a book for them. Daddy is an awfully clever artist, and he says I take after him. I've brought some little pictures," she went on, "that I've done for a story I want you to read if you will. I 'do' hope you'll like them."
"No doubt I shall," was the reply, "if you are an 'awfully clever artist' like your father."
The tone was so kindly that the satire was quite lost.
"Aren't there any more of you?" went on Mr. Charlton next. "Surely you haven't come to an end of your family history yet. What about your mother?"
The question was keenly regretted an instant later.
A sudden shadow came into Eileen's pretty blue eyes.
"I—I can't talk about her, please," she said, with a little catch in her voice. "She—she died just about a year ago, and since then—since then our housekeeper, Mrs. Weston, has mothered us. She is ever so kind, and we're very fond of her, but of course she isn't like—"
"Oh no, of course not," said Mr. Charlton, as Eileen hesitated; "I can quite understand that."
For a full minute there was silence, and then Eileen went on in quite her usual voice.
"We haven't got much money," she said, "and that is why I am trying to earn some. If the mortgage—that is a debt that daddy owes on the house—is not paid off before Christmas, we shall have to leave The Gables, our dear old home. We shall just hate going, for we love every stick and stone of it."
Mr. Charlton, having seen and admired the pretty gabled dwelling, could fully sympathize.
"We haven't told many people yet," proceeded Eileen, "but of course daddy knows—we four children are going to help pay off the mortgage. We've bought a money-box, and all that we earn is going to be put into it. Isn't it a good idea?"
"It is indeed," smiled Mr. Charlton. "I wish you luck, but I think you've undertaken rather a big task."
"I know we have," replied Eileen, "a very big task. But we've prayed about it, and we mean to do our best."
Mr. Charlton was touched by the little girl's evident sincerity.
At this moment a shrill, clear whistle was heard, and Eileen rose to go.
"My five minutes 'are' up now," she said, "and I must say good-bye. That is Teddy whistling for me—I expect they're tired of waiting. Here is my story," she added, holding out the big envelope. "You 'will' read it, won't you? That is, if you think your doctor wouldn't mind."
"HERE IS MY STORY," SHE ADDED,
HOLDING OUT A BIG ENVELOPE.
Mr. Charlton burst into a ringing laugh.
"I don't suppose he'd mind very much," said he, his eyes twinkling. "Yes, I'll read it, and later on you shall know what I think of it."
Shortly after this, with a friendly handclasp, the two parted.
No sooner had Eileen joined her brothers and sister at the gate than she was besieged with questions. Mr. Charlton could hear their voices, but not the words they were saying.
"Well!" It was Teddy, who first spoke. "Did you see the editor?"
"Did he look at your story?" asked Nora, before Eileen had time to answer.
"Did you feel frightened of him?" asked Frank, with a grin on his good-natured young face. "I expect he growled at you, like they say old Grimwood does when he's got the gout." (Mr. Grimwood was one of the residents of the village who had the unenviable reputation of a very hasty temper.)
Eileen laughed merrily—a laugh which reached Mr. Charlton's ears, as he once more settled himself to his papers.
"That's a sound to do one's heart good," he murmured. "I think I shall have to make the acquaintance of those youngsters. Who knows? They may help to brighten up a deadly dull holiday."
Soon after this there was silence, the voices dying away in the distance—Eileen meanwhile doing her best to answer all questions satisfactorily.
It was a cloudless August morning. The air was sweet with the songs of birds, and perfumed with the scent of roses wafted from cottage gardens. More than one turned to look after the children as they wended their way homewards, for owing to their friendly dispositions, they were great favourites in the village. Hazlenook, the pretty country spot where they lived, was situated near the sea, a fact which rendered it a desirable place for those who were seeking a quiet holiday, combined with bracing air.
The young people were just about to pass the door of the village shoemaker, when a gruff voice called from the open window.
CHAPTER II.
"Corporal" Bannister.
"CORPORAL, I want to speak to you." It was Henry Henderson, the shoemaker, or "The old Sergeant," as he was known in the village, who spoke.
In an instant Frank, whom he addressed, made answer:
"All right, sergeant, I'm coming."
And with this, he left the others, and made his way into the little low-ceilinged shop to have a chat with the old man, for the two were excellent friends.
"I want to know," said Henderson, "when you are going to drill them recruits of yours again. I ain't seen no soldiering on the Green for nearly a week. You'll never get your third stripe if you neglect your duty."
"It hasn't been my fault, sergeant," replied the little lad, "really and truly. There have been so many things to hinder me, one way and another."
"Well, well, if it wasn't your fault, I won't scold you. What about to-morrow afternoon?"
"To-morrow—Saturday? Yes, I can manage it. You might put up a notice in the window to let the boys know, will you?"
This was the usual proceeding, and the old sergeant smilingly agreed. In his day he had been a brave and gallant soldier, and right well had he fought for his country.
"What time shall we say?" he asked next.
"At two o'clock," answered Frank; "and mind you put 'sharp.'"
"All right, young master. I suppose you'll be in uniform?"
"Of course I shall, sergeant. I say,—" (here Frank looked a little pleading), "when do you think I shall be able to get my third stripe?"
"All in good time, sonnie," replied the old man; "you're a bit young yet to be a full sergeant."
"Now then, 'Enery," (here came a woman's voice from the little parlour behind the shop), "when you've done with your play-actin', you might as well come in and 'ave your dinner. If you don't, I shall 'ave the 'ash all done to smash.'
"Didn't know you could make up poetry, my dear," answered Henderson, in no way disturbed.
He loved this bit of "play-acting," as his wife called it, with "Master Frank," and no greater delight had he than to stand at his shop door, which faced the village green, and watch the "corporal" drill his "men," a band of village lads whose ages varied from six to ten. Soldiering was a very favourite game with Frank, and occasionally his brother and sisters would consent to being drilled just for the sake of pleasing him.
On Frank's ninth birthday his father had given him a suit of khaki—the child had preferred it to any other present. But it was old Henderson who had supplied the stripes, and raised him to the rank of corporal. It was he, too, who had taught the little lad the drill, Frank proving a very apt pupil.
The notice which Henderson put in his shop window early on Saturday morning ran thus:
Corporal Bannister
will Drill his Soldiers this Afternoon
at Two o'clock on the Green.
New Recruits Wanted.
And new recruits came, as it proved. There were twenty lads gathered together on the Green when the corporal made his appearance—a sturdy, well-set-up little figure dressed in khaki.
Amongst the interested onlookers during the afternoon was Mr. Charlton. He chanced to take up his stand by old Henderson's shop. And the shoemaker, having the leisure, and being in a chatty frame of mind, told him many things concerning the Bannister family.
He learnt of Frank's longing to be a sergeant, and discovered, moreover, that Henderson had been told all about the mortgage-box.
"My only fear," said the old man, "is that it should spoil them nice youngsters and turn them into money-grubbers."
"I don't think there is much fear of that," replied Mr. Charlton; and he was right.
BOTH BOYS PEERED OVER THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF.
After the drilling was over that afternoon, the corporal and several of the other lads made up their minds to have a ramble by the sea-shore. This was a very frequent ending up to the game of soldiering when there happened to be time.
Amongst the village boys was a lad by the name of David Perry, who was a favourite with Frank.
He was the son of a widow lady who was very poor, and who lived in quite a little cottage near the sea.
The two had interests in common, and so it happened that they presently drifted from the others and climbed by slow degrees to the top of the cliff.
Feeling hot and tired, they sat down for a while to rest, and were just in the middle of a chat when loud cries from below fell on their ears.
"Help! Help!" The words rang out again and again.
Frank and David knew in a moment that something was wrong with their comrades. Both boys peered over the edge of the cliff, and the sight which met their eyes made them lose something of the healthy colour in their cheeks.
Midway on the cliffs, about twenty feet from the shore, were five or six of the boys, too frightened to move one way or another.
Instead of taking the winding path by which they could have ascended in perfect safety, they had attempted to climb the steeper part.
"Oh, Frank," cried David, "whatever 'shall' we do? They'll fall in a minute and—and—"
David was almost in tears; he was not of a particularly brave disposition.
"We've got to go and help them," said Frank, "and look sharp about it too."
"I—I can't," half sobbed poor David. "It makes me dizzy even to think about it."
"All right then," replied Frank, half impatiently. "You stop where you are, and I'll go."
David did as he was bidden. Without another word Frank started on his work of rescue. Fortunately, he knew the cliffs as well as any little boy in the village. Close to where the lads were standing in such peril was a narrow path which, if they could only keep their heads, they could reach without much difficulty. But at the present moment they were too paralysed with fear to realize anything except their danger.
Frank took the winding path, and well before five minutes had passed he was within a few feet of the terrified lads.
At the sight of him, they redoubled their cries for help. By an unlucky chance, Frank took one look at the depth below, and for a moment his brave little heart failed him.
Then a sudden thought of "Mother" flashed into his mind—of his mother who had said that God never failed to watch over His children. His fears then seemed to leave him, and he answered the shouts for aid in quite a steady voice.
"Don't be frightened," said he, "it's all right; you've got nothing to be afraid of. I'll help you."
And the boys felt sure he would.
"All you've got to do," went on Frank, "is just to step along that narrow edge of cliff and make for me. There's a path where I'm standing, only you can't see it because it's nearly hidden by bushes."
"We—we're afraid to move," faltered out Willie Benson, the foremost of the lads; "if we do, we shall fall."
"Stupids!" cried little Frank. "Do as you are told!" His voice was peremptory. "Willie, you catch hold of that bush this minute; I'll come and meet you part of the way, and hold out my hand."
Frank was as good as his word.
Willie hesitated for a second, and then took the first step towards safety. Finding the undergrowth well able to bear the strain put upon it, he presently gained a certain amount of pluck.
There was almost breathless silence as he moved along step by step nearer his young rescuer. At last, his hand was gripped in Frank's tight clasp, and in less time than it takes to tell he was out of danger.
Then came hope and strength to all the others. One by one they followed Willie's example, and very soon, to the relief of everybody concerned, their perils were a thing of the past.
By five o'clock that evening old Henderson had heard the story, not from Frank, but from David Perry, who had watched the whole scene with fascinated gaze from the top of the cliff.
"Bless the boy!" he muttered, after David had left him to spread the news in the village. "I knew he was made of the right stuff—plucky little chap that he is! He deserves to be a sergeant, and a sergeant he shall be!"
And this was how little "Corporal" Bannister won his third stripe.
CHAPTER III.
Promotion.
"WELL, children," said Mrs. Weston at breakfast, on the Monday which followed the cliff adventure, "how are you going to amuse yourselves to-day?"
She was very fond of her young charges, and was remarkably easy-going where their liberty was concerned.
"We haven't made up our minds yet," said Teddy, spreading his bread and butter plentifully with marmalade. "Earn some money if we can, very likely, for the mortgage-box."
Mrs. Weston smiled. The matter which at first was intended to be kept as a great secret was now known to about half a dozen people.
"Earning money isn't quite such an easy, matter as you think, my dear," said she; "you are not going to get anything for nothing."
"We don't mind work," said Nora, "if it is in a good cause."
At this they all laughed; for if there was a lazy member of the Bannister family, it was pretty Nora.
Nothing more was said just then upon the subject, for at this moment the post came, bringing with it a long, interesting letter from their father, which was addressed to Eileen.
This she read aloud for the enjoyment of all—a letter from daddy somehow seemed a bit of himself.
After breakfast—it was Teddy's suggestion—the children arranged to spend the day out of doors, and, a basket of goodies being packed for lunch, they prepared to start forth on their way.
"Now, mind you take care of yourselves," said Mrs. Weston, as she bade them good-bye at the garden gate, "and don't be late home for tea."
"We'll take care of ourselves right enough, Mrs. Weston dear," replied Eileen. "Don't you worry."
A few minutes after this, having promised to be home in time for tea, they were lost to sight round a corner of the road.
As they passed down the village street, old Henderson, who was standing at his shop door, caught sight of them.
"Good-morning, young ladies and gentlemen," said he, as they drew near; "I've been wanting to see one or the other of you—Master Frank in particular."
"What was it you wanted to see me about, sergeant?" asked Frank, with quick interest, little dreaming of the honour which was in store for him.
"Just to say this, Master Frank; I'm right proud of you for the part you played in rescuing them youngsters on the cliff, and I should think your brother and sisters are too."
Frank, in telling the story of the cliff adventure at home, had made very little of it, consequently not one in the household realized how truly courageous the little fellow had been.
"It was jolly lucky, he didn't lose his head," said Teddy.
"It was jolly lucky, as you say, Master Teddy, he didn't lose his life" (this severely); "I don't think you quite understand how plucky he was."
Frank, now rosy red, tried to turn the conversation, but Henderson was not so inclined.
"You've got your promotion now, young sir," he went on, looking at Frank, with the kindest pair of eyes; "I shall have your third stripe ready for you to-morrow." And here the old man saluted.
Frank, feeling half an inch taller, did the same. "How awf'ly kind of you," he said, in delight; "I'd rather be sergeant than King of England!"
"Play-actin' again, I do declare!" It was Mrs. Henderson's voice. She had bustled in from the little parlour behind the shop and had overheard part of the conversation. "Well, I never did, 'Enery; you are a silly old man!"
'Enery chuckled with amusement.
"Yes, so I be, and you're a silly old woman! Where are those apples you've been saving up for these youngsters?"
"I've got 'em here, close and handy," replied the good soul, coming forward with a basket, which she had taken up from the shelf near by. "I think, my dears," she went on, turning to the children, "you'll find plenty to go all round."
True enough they did, a goodly store which made a very welcome addition to their luncheon-basket. Shortly after this, with grateful thanks and friendly good-byes, they went on their way.
Right proud was the "sergeant" to receive the congratulations of his brother and sisters. But Eileen and Teddy, realizing from Henderson's words more of the risks he had run, warned him never to do such a thing again.
"Don't suppose it would happen another time," said Frank; "if it did—well, I should do just the same." And he spoke truly.
Ten minutes later they were passing an old house which stood on the outskirts of the village. It was a dreary, neglected looking place, called The Laurels, and the garden was a mass of weeds.
"What a lark it would be," said Teddy, "to go up to the house and ask Mr. Grimwood for a day's gardening!"
Mr. Grimwood, the owner, by the way, was a gentleman who was considerably more feared than loved in the village.
"We could earn some money for the mortgage-box," went on Teddy, as nobody made any reply.
"Why, Teddy, what a splendid ideal!" cried Eileen, suddenly taking his suggestion seriously.
"You never would do such a thing as that!" exclaimed Nora. "He would snap your head off."
"Cheek, I call it," said Frank; "fancy even thinking of such a thing!"
"Cheek or no cheek," said Teddy, "if Eileen is game, we'll do it! You kids can stop outside the gates while we go up and ask."
"HULLO!" HE SAID. "WHAT DO YOU WANT?"
But Nora and Frank, though they strongly disapproved, had no intention of being left out of anything. Three minutes later the four youngsters presented themselves at the door of The Laurels. Their knock was answered, as it chanced, by Mr. Grimwood himself, who happened to be in the hall.
"Hullo!" he said, in a voice far from encouraging. "What do you want?"
He knew the children very well by sight, but as young people were not in his line, he had never cultivated their acquaintance.
"Please," said Teddy, feeling rather small, "we—we wondered if you would like us to do a day's gardening."
Mr. Grimwood was somewhat taken aback. As a matter of fact, a gardener was just what he was needing. The man he usually employed had left him a few weeks previously, and he had difficulty in finding another.
"What do you mean?" he inquired gruffly, looking from Teddy to the others. "I don't want any of your impudence!"
Then Eileen spoke—Eileen, with her pretty blue eyes, which were her chief beauty, raised half-pleadingly to his face. Few could resist the Bannister children. They were full of faults, it is true, but their winning dispositions gained them friends everywhere.
"Please, Mr. Grimwood," she said, "it isn't meant for impudence. We would love to do a day's gardening if you would let us, and we'd only charge a very little."
"H'm," said Mr. Grimwood, "and that little a good deal more than you're worth."
But he was thinking over the suggestion all the same. After some further conversation, to the delight of Eileen and Teddy, and to the disgust of Nora and Frank, he agreed to employ them; and if they did the work satisfactorily, to pay them two shillings each at four o'clock.
CHAPTER IV.
Busy Gardeners.
"I'LL show you what I want you to do, and then I will leave you to your work."
With these words Mr. Grimwood led the way to the lawn on the right side of the house, where there were three large overgrown flower-beds. Here flourished flowers and weeds together in the friendliest of fashions.
"I've been away," he said, "or these beds would have been looked after properly. I don't trouble much about the rest of the garden."
Although Mr. Grimwood did not say so, the three flower-beds had once been the pride and delight of his wife, whom he had lost several years previously.
"I suppose you know a flower from a weed?" he said, after giving several directions.
"I should just think we do, sir," replied Frank, whom he chanced to address. And so said all the others.
"If you have cleared these beds of weeds before four o'clock—you needn't kill yourselves with hard work, you know—you can start on weeding the paths." Mr. Grimwood was actually beginning to look quite pleasant, and the young people found themselves losing their fears of him.
"So we will, sir," said Teddy. "Pity we haven't got a man to help us; we could do no end of work then."
Mr. Grimwood thought awhile.
"Well," said he, "if you can get a man to help you, I don't mind, so long as he is honest and respectable. By-the-by, what about your lunch?"
"Oh, we brought it with us," said Eileen; "we meant to picnic out somewhere to-day. So you needn't trouble, thank you all the same."
Mr. Grimwood smiled in half-amused fashion, for he had no intention of inviting his young gardeners in to lunch.
Soon after this, having told them where the tools were kept, he left them to their work. Nora and Frank, now looking upon it in the light of an adventure, began to enjoy themselves, and the four children gave themselves whole-heartedly, and lightheartedly too, to the task before them. The idea of earning money for the mortgage-box lent it a charm which otherwise it might not have possessed.
By lunch-time they were very hungry, and it was not long before sandwiches, cakes, apples, and home-made lemonade had all vanished. It was then that Nora, feeling that she had done enough gardening to last her a month, made a suggestion.
"Don't you think it would be a good plan," said she, "to get a man to help us for the afternoon? Some one might be glad of the job."
Eileen, who was a bit tired, thought it a very good idea, and, with the approval of the others, presently started off to try to find a man in the village.
The first person she chanced to meet, not far from the gates of The Laurels, was Mr. Charlton. And after a friendly greeting on both sides, Eileen told him the story.
"Why shouldn't I do?" he asked, with a twinkle of fun in his eyes. "I'm not very much of a gardener, it is true, but I'm honest and respectable; and, what is more, I'll work for nothing."
"Oh, Mr. Charlton," cried Eileen, "it would be just splendid of you, if you would—do you really mean it?"
"Of course I do. I was only going out for a lonely walk, and I can assure you an hour or two of gardening would suit me far better."
THEY MADE THEIR WAY TO THE SHADY SPOT.
With this he turned back with Eileen, and together they made their way to the shady spot where the little girl had left her brothers and sister.
Meanwhile she was just aching to know if he had accepted her story and little sketches, but felt that she dared not ask the question.
Teddy, Nora, and Frank stared with amazement when Eileen returned with Mr. Charlton and introduced him as their helper for the afternoon.
"He's going to do it all for nothing too," she said presently, with the greatest glee, when Mr. Charlton by his friendly manner had made the youngsters all feel at ease with him.
"It's most awfully good of you, Mr. Charlton," said Teddy, "but—but I'm afraid it's troubling you."
"Not at all; I shall quite enjoy it," was the reply. "Our old gardener at home used to say I didn't know a weed from a 'wegetable marrer,' but I think I've improved since then."
The children laughed at this.
"Fancy an editor doing gardening," said Nora. Her idea of an editor being some one who was far too learned and wise to care about digging and hoeing.
"Why not?" he said with a smile. "Ah, that reminds me," he added quickly (here he turned to Eileen), "I've something to say to you. I shall be very pleased to use your little story and sketches in the children's pages of 'Sunny Hours;' they are really quite good."
Eileen flushed positively crimson with delight.
"Oh, Mr. Charlton!" she gasped; she could scarcely believe her ears. "How simply 'lovely!'"
"Glad you are pleased," said he, smiling into the radiant little face. "Go on as you have begun, and one day, who knows? You may do ever so well."
It was fully five minutes before the excitement caused by Mr. Charlton's announcement had died down; Teddy, Nora, and Frank being nearly as proud and pleased as Eileen herself.
After this, the five gardeners prepared to set to work, watched, little as they knew it, by a pair of curious eyes from the window of the house.
Mr. Grimwood had gone into the neighbouring town on business, and was not expected home till later in the afternoon.
Eileen, towards three o'clock, was hoeing in a part of the garden some distance from the others, and was hidden from them by tall rows of scarlet runners.
Suddenly she heard a voice behind her, which gave her quite a start.
"Hullo! I've been watching you for ever so long from the window!"
Eileen turned around, and, standing close by she saw a lad of about Teddy's age, with a face so discontented and miserable that her heart filled with pity.
"Hullo!" she said in answer. "And who are you, pray?"
Her smile was so winning that the boy almost smiled too—but not quite.
"I'm Dick Woodbridge," he answered, "if you want to know; and what's your name?"
"I'm Eileen Bannister," said the girl; "so now we are properly introduced. Where did you come from?" she added. "I never heard your footsteps."
"No; I slipped around quietly, because I didn't want to speak to any one but you."
Dick Woodbridge, although Eileen did not realize it, was inclined to be both shy and unsociable.
"Why?" she queried in surprise.
"Because I like the look of you best of them all. You aren't so pretty as that other girl—your sister, I suppose—but you've got a nice sort of 'understanding' face. How came you all here gardening like this?"
Then Eileen explained, the lad so far forgetting his own troubles, whatever they were, as to feel quite interested. Eileen told him about the mortgage-box, at which Dick really "did" smile.
"Fancy you kids thinking of earning money enough to pay off a mortgage," said he; "you must be a green lot!"
Eileen flushed a little, not quite liking his tone, but she went on pleasantly. "Now I've told you something about ourselves," she said, "I think you might say who 'you' are, and where you came from."
"I've told you my name once," was the rather sullen answer; "I'm to live here for good, or at least till father and mother come back from India. Uncle Nat—old Grimwood, you know—is my guardian; my other one has just died. I liked him most awfully, but I hate Uncle Nat. I only came yesterday, and I wish I'd never seen the place; the house is like a prison."
"Perhaps," said Eileen gently, "you'll like it better as time goes on."
"No, I shan't!" (This almost fiercely). "I shall hate it worse. If only I could live with mother and dad, but they say the climate would kill me. I'm pretty sure this hole of a place will."
"No, no, it won't," was Eileen's soothing reply; "I expect we shall all be friendly with you, and then you won't feel so lonely."
CHAPTER V.
Taken in Charge.
AT the prospect of a friendship with the Bannister family, Dick's face brightened.
"I should like it very much," said he, "if you think your father and mother won't mind. Some people won't have anything to do with me after they have known me a little while."
Eileen thought it best to take no notice of this latter statement. "Father is in America," she said, "and mother—"
"Yes, your mother?" this as Eileen hesitated.
"Mother is—dead," she replied softly and reverently.
The boy looked sympathetic.
"Oh, that's hard luck for you," he said.
"Yes," answered Eileen, blinking away a sudden tear (she hoped Dick had not seen it); "we miss her ever so much: she was so lovely and so dear. But somehow we feel," she went on, the sunny expression coming back into her face, "that she isn't so very far away, and for her sake, we try to do what is right, so as to please her, you know."
Eileen spoke truly; the gentle influence of the mother who was with God was like a golden thread in each young life.
Dick was quiet after this for fully a minute; he was more touched than he cared to show. He seemed to see himself as he was—selfish and wayward—and then as he would like to be. Unconsciously his young soul had received an upward lift.
"We've got the dearest dad in the world," said Eileen next. And she was just about to give Dick further details of the family history, when they were joined by Teddy and Nora. Shortly after this, the introductions became general, and Dick so far forgot his shyness as to become quite sociable.
Mr. Charlton—who, it was plain to see, had a way with young people—presently suggested that Dick should help in the weeding, which the lad was only too willing to do.
When Mr. Grimwood returned home shortly before four o'clock to find six gardeners at work, he was a little taken aback. But the results were far too satisfactory for him to make any complaint.
Mr. Charlton explained his presence there in pleasant, easy fashion. And Mr. Grimwood, discovering in him—after a few questions—the son of an old acquaintance, became quite affable.
Punctually on the stroke of four, the Bannister children received their earnings, in addition to which, to their delight, Mr. Grimwood presented them with half a crown.
"Which was only right," declared Teddy, after the good-byes had been said, "considering he got Mr. Charlton's help for nothing."
And so the first money for the mortgage-box was earned. And, what was better still, that day a seed had been sown in a self-willed young heart which was destined to bring forth fruit in the days to come.
It could not be said that Mrs. Weston approved of the day's gardening. But so pleased were the children with the fruit of their work, that she could not find it in her heart to scold very much. And something happened in a day or so which put the incident in the background.
Teddy was taken in charge by a stalwart policeman!
It happened in this way. Teddy had gone on an errand for Mrs. Weston into the neighbouring town of Chelsford, the others amusing themselves in the garden; and the August afternoon being very warm, he did not hurry homeward.
On his return, in rather a lonely part of the road, he met Dick Woodbridge. Dick's face wore a sullen and clouded look, as though everything had gone wrong with him. As it chanced, that day he had received a severe reprimand from his uncle for not speaking the exact truth.