The Fairchild Family

by Mrs. Sherwood

  Second Part of the History of Little Bernard Low

  "Let us sit here under the shade of a tree"]

  _SECOND PART OF HENRY'S STORY_

  "Meekin and Griffith and Price went home to spend the Whitsun holidayson the Saturday evening, and Bernard came home also, with theexpectation of an idle time, which was to last till the Monday afterthe next.

  "The weather was very fine; all the early shrubs and flowers were inbloom, the cuckoo was still in the woods, and the leaves had not losttheir tender young green.

  "The young men in Rookdale were very fond of ringing the bells whenthere was a holiday, and they rang away great part of Sunday and ofMonday also.

  "The bells were soft and sweet, though rather sad; but the lads in thebelfry found nothing sad in pulling at the ropes, and going up and downwith them.

  "Lucilla missed Bernard during several hours of the Sunday; she did notguess that he had gone into the belfry with the young men, and that hehad persuaded the cook to give him a jug of beer to send to them. Themen would not let him pull a bell, as he was not strong enough--eventhe beer would not tempt them.

  "The Monday morning was as bright as the Sunday had been, and it wasenough to make the old young again to hear the man who was mowing thelawn whetting his scythe whilst the dew was on the grass, and thevarious songs of the birds in the trees.

  "Lucilla had fixed upon this day to show Bernard the hermitage; but shewas rather put out, when she came down to breakfast, to see that therewas a very sulky flush on his cheeks, and that he was complaining ofhis father to his mother, whilst his father was not in the room.

  "'Now, mamma,' said Bernard, 'do ask papa; it's a holiday, and a fineday, and I want to go. And why can't I go? Papa is so cross.'

  "'My dear, you can't go to L---- (that was the nearest town toRookdale) to-day,' replied his mother; 'your papa is too busy to ridewith you.'

  "'Can't John go?' asked Bernard.

  "'He is engaged also,' said Mrs. Low.

  "'Can't Ralph go?' returned Bernard.

  "'Ralph is too young to be trusted with your papa's horse,' said Mrs.Low.

  "'But I must go.'

  "'But indeed you can't.'

  "'I can walk. What's to hinder my walking?'

  "'Now do be content, my dear--stay with your sister--she has nothing todo but to be with you;' and thus the mother and son went on until Mr.Low came in, and then Bernard became what Griffith would have calledglum, for Griffith used many odd words.

  "There was no more said about going to L---- after Mr. Low came in; butit was quite certain that Bernard's sour looks were not lost on hisfather.

  "When breakfast was over, Lucilla said:

  "'Now, Bernard, come with me--I have a pleasure for you.' When she hadput on her bonnet she led him to her grotto, and showed him what shehad done already, and gave him the tools and some little bits of wood,and said, 'Now you must make my hermit a table and a chair--he musthave a table; and whilst you make these I will finish his dress, andfasten the flax on for his beard, and make him a rosary with beads.'

  "Lucilla watched her brother's face whilst she showed him the things,and told him what she hoped he would do; and she saw that he neversmiled once. Spoiled children sometimes laugh loud, but they smile verylittle; they have generally very grave faces.

  "When they had looked at the grotto, they went into the root-house;there were seats round it, and a table in the middle. Lucilla sat down,and pulled her needle and thread and beads and bits of silk and clothout of her basket; and Bernard sat down too with the tools and bits ofwood and board before him.

  "He first took up one tool and then another, and examined them, andcalled them over. There was a nail-passer, and a hammer, and a strongknife, and one or two more things very useful to a young boy in makingtoys, or anything else in a small way; in short, everything that wassafe for such a one to have. But Bernard was out of humour, and lookedfor something to find fault with, so of course he could find nothing toplease him.

  "'This nail-driver is too small, Lucilla,' he said; 'where did you getit?'

  "'At L----,' she answered.

  "'What did you give for it?' he asked. 'If you gave much, they havecheated you; and the hammer, what did you give for that?'

  "Lucilla either did not remember, or did not choose to tell him; and,without noticing his questions, she said:

  "'What will you make first?'

  "Bernard did not answer.

  "'Suppose you take this little square bit of deal,' said Lucilla, 'andput legs to it, Bernard?'

  "The boy took up the deal, turned it about, and, as Lucilla hoped, wasabout to prepare a leg; for he took up a slender slip of wood, andbegan paring it. She then went on with her work, looking up from timeto time, whilst Bernard went on cutting the slip. He pared and pared,and notched awhile, till that slip was reduced to mere splinters. StillLucilla seemed to take no notice, but began to talk of anything shecould think of. Amongst other things, she talked of the pleasant weekthey had before them, and of a scheme which their father had proposedof their all going to drink tea some evening at a cottage in the wood;she said, how pleasant it would be for them all to be together. Noanswer again--Bernard had just spoiled another slip of wood, which hefinished off by wilfully snapping it in two; after which he stared hissister full in the face, as if he was resolved to make her notice him.

  "She saw what he was about, and therefore seemed as if she did not evensee him. She was sad, but she went on talking. The bells had struck upagain: they sounded sweetly, and they seemed sometimes to come as ifdirectly from the church, and then again as if from the woods and hillson the opposite side. Lucilla remarked how odd this was, and said shecould not account for it; and then she added, 'Do you know, Bernard,that I never hear bells ring without thinking of Alfred? he used tolove to hear them; he called them music, and once asked me if therewould be bells in heaven. I was very little then, only in my seventhyear, and I told him that there would be golden bells in heaven,because the pilgrims had heard them ring when they were waiting in theLand of Beulah to go over the River of Death.'

  "'I say,' said Bernard, 'these bits of wood are not worth burning.'

  "'You cut into them too deeply,' answered Lucilla.

  "'There goes!' returned Bernard, snapping another; then, laying downthe knife, he took up the nail-passer, using it to bore a hole in theboard which formed the table of the root-house.

  "'You must not do that,' said Lucilla, almost drawn out of herpatience.

  "'Who says so?' answered Bernard.

  "'It is mischief,' said Lucilla. 'It is papa's table; he will be vexedif he sees it.'

  "'What for?' said the tiresome boy.

  "Lucilla did not answer.

  "'What for?' repeated Bernard, throwing down the nail-passer, andtaking up the hammer, with which he knocked away on the place where hehad made the hole.

  "'Oh, my beads!' cried his sister; for the hammering had overturned thelittle box in which they were, and she had only time to save them, ormost of them, from rolling down on the gravel.

  "'Well,' said Bernard, 'if that does not please you, what can I donext?'

  "Lucilla sighed; she could not speak at the moment, she was so verysad, and so much disappointed.

  "'I thought,' said Bernard, after a minute, 'that you promised me apleasure. What is it?'

  "Lucilla's eyes filled with tears; she rubbed them hastily away, andwent on working, though without any delight in her work.

  "Bernard yawned, then stretched; and after a while he said:

  "'Come, Lucilla, let us have a walk.'

  "'Anything,' thought Lucilla, 'that will put you into a better state ofmind.' So she gathered up her work, put it into her basket, and arose,leaving the tools and the work on her table; then, giving one sad lookat her grotto, she led the way to a wicket not very far off, whichopened on a path made by her father through some part of the large andbeautiful wood which skirted part of the garden. Bernard followed her,and they went on together for some
time in silence.

  "The path first led them down into a deep hollow, through the bottom ofwhich ran a pure stream of water, which had its source in the hillsabove. The rays of the sun, which here and there shone through thetrees, sparkled and danced in the running stream. A gentle breeze wasrustling among the leaves; and besides the song of many birds, theclear note of the cuckoo was heard from some distance.

  "The path led them to a little bridge of a single plank and ahand-rail, over which they crossed, and began to go up still amongwoods to the other side, where the bank was very much more steep.

  "Still they spoke not: Lucilla was thinking of Bernard, and grievingfor his wayward humours; and Bernard was thinking that Lucilla was nothalf such good company as Ralph the stable-boy, or even as Miss Evansor Stephen; and yet he had some sort of love for Lucilla, though he didnot like her company. He was, however, the first to speak.

  "'Lucilla,' he said, 'do you know a lad in the parish called Noddy?'

  "'Noddy?' replied Lucilla.

  "'There is such a one,' said Bernard; 'Griffith knows him well, andthey say he is the oddest fellow--a sort of fool, and everybody'slaughing-stock. They will have it that I have seen him often; but if Ihave, I don't know him.'

  "'There may be many boys in the parish unknown to me,' answeredLucilla.

  "'I have asked Ralph about him,' said Bernard; 'but I can't getanything out of him; he always falls a-laughing when I speak the word.'

  "Lucilla felt herself more and more sad about her brother, and said tohim:

  "'Really, Bernard, you are too intimate with Ralph; he may be a verygood boy, but you ought not to be so free with him as you are.'

  "Bernard walked on, and made no answer.

  "It was rather hard work, even for these two young people, to climbthis bank, which was, indeed, the foot of a very steep hill; at lastthey came out on one side of the wood, on a very sweet field, coveredwith fine grass, but nearly as steep as the path by which they hadcome. The prospect from the top of this field was very lovely, forimmediately below was the deep dell in which the water flowed, and up alittle above it their father's house and garden, and beyond that thetower of the church and the trees in the churchyard were seen; andstill farther on, hills of all shapes, near and far off, and woods, anddowns, and farmhouses. What pleased the little girl most was a roadwhich looked like a white thread winding away over the heights, andpassing out of sight near around hill, with a clump of firs at the top.

  "'Let us sit down here under the shade of a tree,' said Lucilla; andshe sat down, whilst Bernard stretched himself by her side.

  "Lucilla began to speak, after their long silence, by pointing out thedifferent things which they saw before them, telling the names of thehills, and showing the farm-houses.

  "'And there,' she said, 'look at that winding road and that round hill.Beyond that hill is a common covered with gorse, where there are manyrabbits, and also many sheep. Nurse's son lives on that common: he waspapa's foster-brother. You know he is nurse's only child, and has got apretty cottage there. When poor little Alfred was beginning to get weakand unwell, soon after Henry died; and mamma was ill too, and obligedto go somewhere for her health, it was advised by the doctors thatAlfred should also change the air: and as the air of that common wasthought very fine, I went with my brother and nurse to spend the summerat her son's cottage; and, Bernard, though I was then but six yearsold, I remember everything there as if I had left it but yesterday, fornurse has so often talked about that time to me.

  "'Sweet little Alfred! He seemed to get quite well and strong; he rodeabout the common on a donkey sometimes, and sometimes he played withme, and sometimes we used to sit on the little heaps covered with sweetshort herbs, and talk of many things.

  "'His chief delight was to talk of some place far away, where he alwaysfancied we were to go soon: he was to see Henry there, and Henry wouldhave wings, and his Saviour would be with them to take care of them,and I was to come, and papa and mamma. I suppose that he spoke thewords of a baby; but the thoughts which were in his heart were verysweet. He was merry, too, Bernard, more merry than you are, and full oflittle tricks to make me laugh. But when we had been three months atthe cottage he grew languid and pale again; he was brought home, andfrom that time grew worse and worse; and he died before Christmas. Oh,Bernard, he was the gentlest, sweetest child--so pale! so beautiful!'

  "Lucilla for a minute could say no more; she covered her face with herhands, and large tears fell from her eyes. Bernard did not speak, buthe had an odd feeling in his throat, and wished that Lucilla was notthere to see him cry, for he felt he wanted to cry.

  "Lucilla soon spoke again, and went on in the kindest, most gentle way,to tell her brother how much more bitter his ill-behaviour was to theirmother than even the death of her elder boys; saying everything which aloving, gentle girl could say to lead him to better behaviour.

  "Suddenly, whilst she was speaking, she saw her father and mothercoming from the little wicket which lay in full view below them, andtaking their way slowly, and as if talking to each other, along thepath in the wood. Sometimes the trees partly hid them, then Lucilla sawthem clearly again, and then not at all. She pointed them out toBernard, and said:

  "'Now, now, dear brother, is your time; you can run down one bank andup another in a few minutes; you can run to mamma, and beg her pardonfor being sullen and disobedient to her this morning at breakfast; andthen, my dear, dear brother, you will have made a good beginning, andwe shall all be so happy.'

  "Bernard had laid himself at full length on the grass, amusing himself,whilst his sister spoke, with kicking his legs. He was trying with allhis might and main to harden himself against what she said; andsucceeded in making himself as stupid as a mere brick.

  "When she pressed him to run to his father, he drew up his legs and laywith his knees above all the rest of him, and his eyes staring up tothe tree above his head, so that an owl could not have looked morestupid.

  "Lucilla felt more sad than she had done before, when she saw howdetermined he was not to listen to her. She knew not what next to do orsay; but whilst she was thinking, a dog was heard to bark on the otherside the hedge which was behind them, and a voice saying, 'Be quiet,Pincher.'

  "'Why, that is Stephen,' cried Bernard, jumping on his feet; 'what canhe be doing here?'

  "He flew to the hedge, he sprang up the bank, and called to Stephen,who was walking along the path on the other side with his dog Pincher.

  "'Stop, stop!' cried Bernard; 'stop and I will come to you. Good-bye,Lucilla, you can go home by yourself;' and the next minute the rude boyhad tumbled over the fence, and was running after Stephen.

  "Poor Bernard little thought what he lost when he refused to listen toLucilla, and what great pleasure he would have gained, had he done whatshe required of him, and run to beg his father's pardon.

  "No one can say what a day may bring forth; and who could have foreseenthe very strange thing which had happened whilst Lucilla and Bernardwere out that morning? It was an affair of very serious business, whichmust be told: but as most young people hate business, it shall be toldas shortly as possible.

  "Mr. Low's brother had been a very wild boy, and had run away; so thatfor many years Mr. Low had heard nothing about him. At last he got aletter; it was a kind and humble one: in this letter Mr. John Low sentword, that after many adventures he had made some money, and bought afarm in America, on the banks of the Hudson, above New York; that hewas doing very well, that he had never married, and only wished thathis brother would come and see him. Mr. Low had answered this letteras a brother should do; and every year since, they had written to eachother, and sent each other presents. But this morning a letter had comefrom Mr. John Low, entreating his brother to come to him, if possible,and to bring his family; stating that he had a disease upon him thatmust soon finish his life; and telling him that he had engaged thecaptain of the _Dory_, who brought the letter, to take him and hisfamily back with him to America, he having undertaken to pay all thecos
ts. The letter finished with the most earnest entreaties that theywould all come.

  "With Mr. John Low's letter came another from Captain Lewis, of the_Dory_, saying he should go back in less than a fortnight, and pressingMr. Low to attend to his brother's request; adding that he almostfeared that his friend, Mr. John Low, would hardly be found alive whenthey reached New York.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Low were talking over this letter, and forming theirplans about it, when their children saw them walking so gravely in thewood. They had come to the resolution to go with Captain Lewis, andthey had a long discourse about Bernard. They resolved at once to takeLucilla with them; they wished her to see her uncle, and to see the NewWorld, and her company would be pleasant to them; but they had manydoubts about Bernard. Mr. Low was quite against taking him, and he tookthis occasion to tell his wife that they had both been to blame inspoiling him as they had done, and that he considered his presentill-behaviour as a punishment which he himself deserved, for havingsuffered his boy to be so spoiled.

  "Mrs. Low had not much to say; she thought her husband was right.

  "Now, had Bernard listened to Lucilla, and had he come just at thatminute before his parents and begged pardon for his ill-behaviour, hemight have changed his father's determination--for fathers are veryforgiving--and then his mother, too, would have been on his side; andso he might have got the pleasure of going that long journey into theNew World.

  "Everything was settled after Mr. Low had made up his mind, even beforeBernard returned; for Stephen was going a long walk to see Meekin'sfather, who was a farmer in the next parish, and Bernard went with him.Stephen would not take him, however, till he had come back to whereLucilla was, to ask her if she thought Mr. Low would be pleased if hetook him.

  "Stephen could speak very properly and well, when it served his turn todo so; and Lucilla thought him a very nice person, and to be trusted,for he was older than Bernard, by several years, and was often trustedto walk with the boys. She could not say that she could give leave, butshe promised to tell her father where Bernard was gone, and with whom.Everything was therefore settled before the spoiled boy came home latein the evening. Mr. Low agreed with Mr. Evans that he should take careof his church; and as Mr. Evans was going to have his house painted anda new schoolroom built, it was also settled that he should come andreside at the rectory until Mr. Low returned. Miss Evans was immenselypleased at the thought of this. Bernard was to remain under Mr. Evans'scare; Mr. Low's servants were all to be put on board wages and senthome, excepting the gardener. Even nurse was to go to her son, for Mr.Low said that nurse was the one who spoiled Bernard most. The boys wereto have a large laundry, which was in the yard, for their schoolroom,and the drying yard for their play-ground; and Mr. Evans and his familywere to come in the day Mr. Low left.

  "Mr. Low had also to ask leave for being absent from his living, andMrs. Low had packing to do; so that there was a vast deal to getthrough, for it was necessary for them to be in London, where CaptainLewis was, in a very few days.

  "As Lucilla, who had not yet heard of all this great bustle, walkedquietly home, her heart was very sad on account of her brother. Shecame back by the grotto, and took up her work-basket, putting away thehermit and the tools and bits of wood in a corner of the little caveout of sight; and taking her basket in her hand, she walked towardshome, thinking to return to her little hermitage the next day atlatest.

  "Poor Lucilla could not help shedding a few tears as she passed slowlyalong the shrubbery, to think how all her little plans had ended innothing. She did not just then remember that verse, 'Cast thy breadupon the waters, and after many days thou shalt find it.'"

  "_He took up a slip of wood._"--Page 344.]