The Wonder-Child: An Australian Story

by Ethel Sybil Turner

  *CHAPTER XII*

  *R.M.S. Utopia*

  'There,' said Challis, 'that is exactly the middle of the sheet, mother.Just as many again, and we're all kissing each other and going mad.'

  She held a piece of note-paper in her hand, and had just carefullymarked out with a red pencil one more of the thirty-three days of theirvoyaging.

  'That leaves just sixteen,' said Mrs. Cameron.

  'And a half,' said Challis, 'and Mr. Brooks told me the captain says wemay be two whole days late, so we'll count seventeen, darling, and notdisappoint ourselves.'

  'There is the captain now, talking to Mrs. Macgregor and LadyMillbourne,' said Mrs. Cameron. 'Run and ask him, dear, if it is true.I can't bear the thought.'

  'Oh, mother,' said the little girl, and hung back, looking with nervouseyes at the group.

  'Girlie, you must get over this silly shyness,' said Mrs. Cameron. 'Ithink you get worse every day, instead of better. Run along at once.'

  The girl rose and walked slowly down the long deck. Some childrenrushed to her.

  'Come and play, come and play,' they said. 'It's rounders, and we wantanother on our side.'

  'Don't ask her,' said a boy, 'she's a stuck-up--never plays with anyone.' The voice reached Challis, and coloured her cheeks.

  'You will be on our side, won't you?' a little girl said. 'We don'tknow what to do for another.'

  'I--I don't know how to play. I'm very sorry--if I could I would,'Challis said.

  'Oh, but you can't help knowing,' urged the small girl. 'All you've todo is hit the ball and run. Mamma's deck-chair there is one rounder,and the barometer thing's another, and that life-buoy's the third, andhere's home. Of course you mustn't hit the ball overboard.'

  'Oh, please,' said Challis, 'won't you get some one else? I shouldspoil the game. Oh, I couldn't play--please,' and she broke away fromthe hand, and heard 'stuck-up' again from the boy as she moved away.

  Used to the fire of a thousand eyes, the girl shrank nervously fromdisporting herself before half a dozen idle watchers. She liked thequiet corners on the deck where no one could see her; she had a habit oflying on some cushions by her mother's side, and pretending to beasleep, just to escape being talked to.

  A group of ladies drew her amongst themselves before she could pass.

  'The sweet little thing!' said one.

  'Have you been dreaming a Wave Nocturne up in your corner?' saidanother.

  'Don't tease the child,' said a third. 'Darling, we're getting up aconcert for to-morrow evening, and we're going to give the money to thePatriotic Fund when we get to Sydney. You will play some of your lovelypieces for us, won't you? You know we couldn't have a concert withoutthe aid of the famous Miss Cameron.'

  'I am afraid mother will not allow me to again,' Challis said. 'Shesaid yesterday was to be the last time.'

  'The last time! Oh, why--why?' chorused the ladies.

  'She said something about wanting me to rest now,' said poor Challis,flushing.

  'Oh, but just two or three little pieces,' persisted the promoter of theconcert, 'for the wives of the brave boys going to the war! Oh, I knowyou won't refuse us, will you? That pretty little thing you played forthe funds of the Sailors' Home on Monday--what was that?'

  'The Funeral March from Chopin's Second Sonata,' said Challis shyly. 'Iwill ask mother. I am sure, as it is for the soldiers, she will allowme,' and she edged out of the group.

  A lady lying on a lounge beckoned to her.

  'How are you, my dear, to-day?' she said.

  'Quite well, thank you,' was Challis's answer.

  'You are looking pale, I think. Your mother should give you quinine.Don't you ever take anything before you play to your big audiences?'

  'No,' said Challis.

  'Your mother should see you have a quinine powder before you begin, andjust before going home a dessert-spoonful of malt extract. It wouldfortify the system immensely.'

  'Would it?' said Challis, a little wearily.

  'Is that little Miss Cameron?' said another lady, coming up. 'Now Ithink Mrs. Goodenough might really introduce us. Ah, now we know eachother, and I am very proud--very proud indeed to shake hands withAustralia's celebrated player. I heard you in the Albert Hall twonights before we left London, my dear. You playmagnificently--magnificently.'

  Challis stood with gravely downcast eyes, and never said a word.

  'I wonder could you spare me a photograph, my dear,' continued the lady,'one of those in a white frock that are all over London? And I shouldlike you to write your name across it. Will you?'

  'We have not any left--we gave the last away,' said Challis, and with alittle good-bye bending her head--something like the grave quiet bendshe gave her audiences--she moved along on her errand.

  'So that's your player,' the flouted lady said. 'Well, I don't thinkmuch of her. Not a word to say for herself. I suppose she is greatlyoverrated; it is mostly advertisements, you know--wonderful nowadayswhat can be done by advertisements.'

  Challis reached the captain at last. Lady Melbourne had a pleasant wordfor her, and asked nothing but how she was enjoying _Treasure Island_,which was in her hand. Mrs. Macgregor merely inquired after her mother'sheadache.

  'Captain,' Challis said, 'are we really going to be two days late?Mother is very anxious.'

  'Why, we are all hoping it will be more than that,' said LadyMillbourne. 'A perfect voyage like this should last for ever. I wantto persuade the captain to break the shaft of his propeller, like thePerthshire did, and let us drift for forty days.'

  'Then mother and I would steal the captain's gig and row home byourselves,' Challis said with a little shy roguery that dimpled hermouth, and made you think she was pretty after all.

  'I never loved a dear gazelle,' said the captain, 'but I had to land itdays before I should have had to, if it had only been a tiresomeelephant. My dear little fairy-fingers, I have to give you up two daysbefore the time. This will be the quickest run I've made this year.'

  The glad colour leapt all over the girl's face. 'Oh-h-h!' she cried, andbroke away from them, and went bounding back along the deck to hermother, just as any of the children might have gone.

  The delightful news necessitated giving all the rest of the morning upto happy chat. They drew their chairs close up together, sheltered fromover-much observation by the angle of the deck-house. Mrs. Cameron hadno more headache, _Treasure Island_ fell flat and forgotten on thedeck.'

  'NOW LET'S JUST GO OVER IT ALL AGAIN,' SAID CHALLIS.]

  'Now let's just go over it all again,' said Challis. 'Father'll comefirst. I don't want to kiss any one till I have kissed him. Well,what's he like? No, don't you say, I'll say. He'll have amoustache--no, I think he'll have a beard--yes, a beard. Not a longone, just a short one, and rather curly. And his eyes have a nicelaughing look in them, just the nice look like M'sieu de Briot's, whosaid there was nothing in the world worth worrying about. You said,didn't you? that daddy hated worrying over things. I can't helpthinking he'll have a brown velveteen jacket when he comes to meet us,like Mr. Menel's, at Fontainebleau, and paint all over it. But ofcourse he won't. Let's see, he'll have a grey suit and a shiny hat, likeMr. Warner. No, he mustn't have that--that's not like daddie at all.No, I'll tell you; it's very hot at Wilgandra, so he'll have a nicewhite linen suit and a white helmet, and he might--he might be holdingup a big white umbrella lined with green--you know, mamma, like thatnice man who came on board at Malta.'

  Mrs. Cameron was leaning back, her eyes shining, a fond smile on herlips as she listened to the girl's prattle.

  'Then there'll be Hermie, and I know she's lovely. Don't you think shewill be? You said you always thought she would grow up very beautiful.Oh, isn't it dreadful that we've never had a photo of them? Such lotsof mine sent to them, and never any of theirs! It's like drawing theirfaces with your eyes shut. I think Hermie will have her hair in a thickplait. I suppose she
goes to picnics and dances and everything, andalways knows what to say to people. Mother, I don't think I shall everget to know what to say. I'm fourteen, and nothing will come into myhead to answer people. A lady said to me this morning, "You playmagnificently." Now what can you answer to that? I really felt I'dlike to say, "Yes, don't I?" just to see how she would look. Only I wasafraid it would be rude. If I'd said, "Oh no, I don't, you'remistaken," she would have thought I was mock modest, wouldn't she? ButHermie, yes, she'll always know what to say. I can sleep in her room,can't I? You said there wouldn't be any other. It will be like Ellenand Edie Fowler we met on the trip to Dover; they always had their armsround each other, and used to tell each other everything and everything.Hermie and I will; we'll whisper and whisper all night, just like theydid.'

  The steward came up with eleven-o'clock tea and the glass of milk thatChallis always drank. Mrs. Cameron left her cup to grow cold, Challisset her tumbler in an insecure place, and a lurch of the ship sent itflying.

  'Never mind, I couldn't have drunk it,' she said, then as the man cameback, 'I am so sorry to give you that trouble, steward. If you like tobring a cloth, I'll wipe it up myself.'

  'Well, about Bart,' said the mother, 'what will Bart be like?'

  'Oh, Bart,' said Challis, 'I just feel as if we'll rush straighttogether, and never come undone again. That's the sort of feeling youhave when you're twins. I feel I'd like to give him everything and sewhis buttons on and let him bully me. You notice the Griffithses here.They're twins, and she does everything he tells her, and he getseverything for her. It's lovely. I hope Bart hasn't forgotten we'retwins.'

  'And Roly?'

  'Roly? I'm not sure of Roly. I can hardly see him at all. I think,p'r'aps, he's like that little boy at our table who wears Eton suits andtries to walk like the boatswain. All I can remember about Roly is oneday we were eating water-melon in the paddock, and Roly ate his sliceaway and away, till there was just a green circle round his head.'

  'And Flossie--my little baby Floss?'

  'Darling little Flossie, I almost love her best of all. She's got verygoldy hair and a teeny little face, and she's as little as LadyMillbourne's little girl. And she likes being carried about, and shecan't dress herself, and I shall dress her, and fasten all the dearlittle buttons, and tie her sashes. And I shall put her to bed myself,nobody else must, and I'll tell her stories and stories. And every daythere'll be something new for her out of my box. There are fifteenthings for her, mother, not counting what she's to go halves with Rolyin. Isn't it a darling little tea-set? I never saw such sweet littlecups. And won't she like the little dolls from the Crystal Palace? I'dreally like to play with them myself. And the big doll we got in theRue de Crenelle. I must get on with its frock to-morrow, mother, or itnever will be done.'

  On, on went the ship through the secret waters. New stars came out onthe great night skies, new breezes played in the rigging. On, on, andthe long days dropped away, somewhere, somewhere, beyond the edge of thesea. On, on, and the happy eyes saw at last the dear frown of theAustralian coast-line.