CHAPTER X.
GATHERING CLOUDS.
Rough, rumpled hair, two soft eyes drowned in tears, flushed, angrycheeks and pouting lips, was the picture which met Dick's view onemorning when he entered the oak parlour two days after the eventfulparty. Christmas had passed by pleasantly and tranquilly for bothchildren. They had had the regular Christmas dinner--turkey,mince-pies, plum-pudding, etc.--and the afternoon and evening had beenfilled with youthful pleasure and amusement. Sabbath also was calm andpeaceful, so calm, indeed, that Winnie began to think their fears weregroundless, and Mrs. Blake's annoyance a mere myth; but Dick, moresuspicious, decided it was only the lull before the storm, and on theMonday he found his suspicions verified. The hurricane burst, andresulted in a forlorn little maiden bathed in tears, and a boy whoseheart burned within him at the remembrance of cruel words and unjustaccusations.
"I say, Win," he cried, coming forward into the room and leaning hiselbows on the table with careless disregard to elegance of attitude,"what a miserable object you look! for all the world like a drownedrat. Can't you dry those weeping eyes and speak to a fellow for a fewminutes? It is dreadful being treated to a regular shower-bath in thiscold weather," and Dick tried to conjure up the faintest glimmer of asmile to the dolorous countenance.
Winnie wailed: "O Dick, I was so happy; and now everything is wrong.Mamma says she is very much displeased with me, and--" but here sobschoked the little plaintive voice, and rendered the latter part of thesentence quite unintelligible.
Her brother's lips curled.
"Win," he said impressively, "you're a good little creature, and themother is fond of you. In a few days she will forget all thisannoyance, and things will go on with you as smoothly as before; but Iam different. I shall never be able to blot out of my heart the wordsthe governor" (Dick's usual name for his father) "said to me thismorning,--never so long as I live. It was not only about thisaffair--that I could have stood--but he raked up all my sins andshortcomings from the days when I was a little boy, and heaped them,one after the other, on the top of my devoted head. I was bad, stupid,and awkward--the disgrace of the school, and the butt of my companions.He was perfectly ashamed of me, and so on." Dick's eyes were flaming."But I tell you, Win, what it is: the crisis has come, and I'll dosomething desperate."
His sister's tears overflowed again. "I hate crying, I do indeed," shesaid, scrubbing her cheeks viciously at every fresh outburst; "but thenasty little trickly drops will come. Dick, dear old boy, I'm sorryfor you; will you not be sorry for me too? Just listen: I am never tohave Nellie for my friend again. She must never come here, and I mustnever go and see Aunt Judith any more."
Dick looked up in amazement. "Why not, Win? What has all that to dowith your conduct towards Ada?"
"I don't know," with another quiver of the lips. "Mamma spoke aboutNellie first, asking where she lived, and if her aunts worked in anyway. Of course I told her simply what I knew, and then she said allour friendship must end now; she would never have allowed Nellie to beinvited to our party had she known so much about her before."
"But dear me, Win," interrupted the boy impatiently, "the motherconsented when you asked to spend that afternoon at Dingle Cottage sometime ago. Why should she turn round and condemn the friendship now?"
"Oh, I can explain that easily. Mamma was hurrying to go out withClare and Edith when I begged permission, and said yes without makingany inquiries; but she scarcely spoke to Nellie on Friday evening, andI cannot understand what has made her so angry all at once."
"Did she say anything against Nellie personally?"
"No; but she is not in my position in life, and I must not make afriend and confidante of her. We may speak at school of course, butthat is all," and Winnie's grief burst out afresh at this point.
Dick meditated.
"I wonder," he said at length, a slow light dawning in his eyes, "ifAda Irvine can have been putting the mother up to this? It would bequite in keeping with some of her low dodges."
Winnie shook her head. "I thought so myself at first, but mamma led meto believe otherwise. She says Ada is such a sweet, amiable girl, andmuch more suitable in every way than Nellie for a friend. I fired upat that, however, and declared I hated Ada, adding she was a sneak, anddid horrible things at school."
"Oh, you would give her true character to the mother, I have no doubt,"put in Dick with twinkling eyes; "but the question is, 'What was theeffect?'"
"'I was prejudiced--and no one is faultless in this world.'"
A short period of silence followed, during which Winnie wept copiously,and Dick sat beating a tattoo on the table.
"You'll soon have no eyes left," he observed practically, as the littledrenched handkerchief was again brought into use to wipe away theflowing tears. "Cheer up, Win, old girl, and don't look as if yourgrandmother had died half an hour ago."
"But you do not know the worst of it yet, Dick," cried the girl,raising her tear-stained face and speaking in heart-breaking tones. "Ipromised Nellie I would come and spend one afternoon with her duringthe holidays, and now I can't get. Oh! I wish so much to go."
"Then do so," replied Dick doggedly. "There's no great harm in that;and after all, what reward does one receive for being conscientious andobedient?"
His sister looked aghast. "I dare not," she whispered; "mamma would beso angry. And yet--if I might go only this once."
Dick being in anything but a filial mood said decidedly, "There's nouse in whining and moaning, Win. You can spend Wednesday afternoon atDingle Cottage if you wish, without any one in the house finding thatout. Edith and Clare are away from home; Algy and Tom never troubleabout us; and both the mother and governor will be spending that entireday with the Harveys at Springfield. As for nurse and the servants,I'll manage them."
"Let me think," replied Winnie. She leaned forward towards the table,drooped her head slowly on her little white hands, and then thestruggle began--the struggle between good and evil, between the pathsof right and wrong.
"Just this once," she murmured yearningly--"only this once;" and as shestrove and wrestled inwardly, it seemed as if two figures stolesilently to her side and stood with earnest eyes watching the wearybattle. "I'll never do it again," she muttered, "but--only to saygood-bye;" and at this the dark figure smiled triumphantly, while thewhite, spotless one listened with saddening eyes.
This was no mean struggle in which Winnie was engaged. Many a one hadfallen under a lesser temptation; for a visit to Aunt Judith meantmuch, oh so much, to her. There was something in the atmosphere ofDingle Cottage that raised the young girl to a loftier, purer standard;something that made her yearn after what was good and holy, and stirredup the childish heart to reach after the things which belong unto ourpeace. She would never feel so again. How could she, when there wasnone to guide her in the paths of right--none to tell how she mightweave a golden sunshine into her life, and leave lingering tracks oflight behind her? All these thoughts passed through her childish brainas she sat with low bowed head and aching heart, thinking andstruggling, oh so wearily. At length the contest was ended; andturning to Dick with a look of firm determination on her face, Winniesaid briefly, "I will go." So the struggle was over, and the darkfigure reigned triumphant, while the white-robed one stole weeping away.
"Write and let Nellie know then," replied Dick, preparing to leave theroom. "I am going off to skate with Archie Trollope, and can post yourletter on my way to the pond if you choose."
Winnie opened her desk--a birthday gift--and her heart smote her as shewrote in a crude, girlish hand:--
"_December 27th, 18--_.
"MY DEAR NELLIE,--I shall come and spend Wednesday afternoon with youall at Dingle Cottage. If suitable, do not trouble replying to thisscribble.--
Your loving friend, WINNIE M. BLAKE."
"There," she said, sealing the envelope and handing it to her brother,"I have written; and you--you will come for me at night, Dick."
"Of course
I shall, Win," answered the boy, looking down with wistful,loving eyes on his favourite sister, "and we shall have a jolly timefor once. Put all gloomy thoughts aside, old girl, and let us be happywhile we may." With that he treated her to a rough, hearty embrace,making teasing remarks at the same time about boiled gooseberry eyesand swollen lids; then giving one parting hug, marched out of the room,and a few minutes after the loud clanging of the hall-door intimatedthat Master Richard Blake had gone out for the day.
The afternoon was spent by Winnie in driving with her step-mother, whotried in many pleasant ways to atone for the morning's harshness; andso well did she succeed that the little girl's heart ached sorely andquailed at the remembrance of the deceit she was practising. But, shewould never do it again, no, never again, and only this once could notbe such a very great sin.
So the time passed, and Wednesday came at last, a true winter's day,with snow-mantled earth and keen, hard frost.
"Don't be late in coming for me, Dick," was Winnie's partinginjunction, as he saw her safely into the 'bus. "I shall expect yousoon after tea." And the boy promised.
The little sister looked after him as he strode briskly away. "What adear, kind brother he is!" she murmured lovingly. "How should I managewithout him? Good old Dick. He is all the world to me." And the boy,tramping along the slippery streets with giant steps, wasmuttering--"Poor Win! she will fret very much at first, and I shallmiss her sorely; but it can't be helped--I must run away."
Meanwhile the 'bus, whirling rapidly through the busy streets, stoppedin due time at Broomhill Road, and Winnie, alighting with flushed,expectant face, found Nellie awaiting her eagerly.
"How good of you to come, dear! and how pretty you look!" she said,kissing her little guest affectionately. "I was so pleased to get yournote on Monday evening."
"You cannot guess how glad I am to be here, Nellie," replied Winniesimply, slipping her hand through her friend's arm as they walkedrapidly along the quiet road. "Your home seems like an Eden to me, andspending a few hours with you all there one of my greatest pleasures."
After this both tongues went merrily till Dingle Cottage was reached,and Winnie stood once more in the snug parlour, listening to the heartywelcomes which fell so pleasantly on her ears. The tiny home wore itsusual air of cosy comfort, and the faces of its inmates seemedpositively to shine with happiness and content. Aunt Debby's chubbycountenance was all aglow, and Aunt Meg's peevish visage, havingapparently caught the reflex of her smile, looked very fair and sweetas the invalid turned it brightly towards the youthful visitor.
"A thousand welcomes, child!" cried Miss Deborah delightedly, drawingWinnie to her ample bosom, and treating the girl to a hearty hug (theword, though not eloquent, is singularly expressive); "it is good tosee your pretty face again. This is Aunt Meg," pointing to theinvalid. "I do not think you have ever met her before." Then Winniewas obliged to cross over to the sofa and shake the thin white handthat looked so small and fragile.
"Is your brother coming for you at night, dear?" inquired Miss Latimer,turning from her seat by the window and giving the young guest atender, loving glance in answer to a certain wistful look cast in herdirection.
"Oh yes; he promised," replied Winnie assuredly. Then with a littleburst of vehemence--"Dear Aunt Judith, I wish to enjoy myself so very,very much to-day, and be ever so happy."
All looked startled at the passion in the girl's voice, with theexception of Aunt Debby, who viewed everything in a practical light.
"So, so! very good indeed," she said, knitting industriously, and withadded vigour. "We'll do our best to gratify your wish, child; and oneought to be specially happy at this season of the year, I suppose."
The talk then became general, and Aunt Meg, laying aside her fretfulvoice for the time being, wakened up and became the life of the smallparty, chatting in such a pretty, graceful manner, and seemingaltogether so full of animation, that Winnie wondered if this couldreally be the cross, peevish invalid Nellie had so often described.Ere long, however, she learned that appearances are sometimesdeceitful, and that a gentle face and plaintive air can often beassumed as occasion warrants. It so happened that just as Miss Deborahwas preparing to see about the tea the postman's knock sounded at thedoor, and one of the dear home-letters was handed to Nellie.
"Please excuse me," she said to Winnie, breaking the seal andcommencing to read; "the children have been ill with scarlet fever, andI am anxious to know if they are better."
The sheets were large and closely written, consequently some littletime was spent over them; but at length the last word was read, andthen Nellie, replacing the letter in its envelope, said with a happysmile, "Mother writes the little ones are improving daily, and shethinks they will soon be quite well. She sends you all her love, andis glad to hear Aunt Meg is feeling so much stronger. She hopes, ifthe improvement continues, to see either you, Aunt Judith, or AuntDebby home with me in the summer-time."
The invalid's face darkened, and Miss Deborah's merry orbs twinkledominously. Nothing suited Miss Margaret better than to pose as asaintly sufferer, burdened day by day with a weary load ofnever-ceasing pain. It was wonderfully pleasant at times to assume the_role_ of the patient martyr, and talk of lonely days and nights bornewithout murmuring. But once hint at any visible improvement, oncemention an increase of colour on the pallid cheeks or a clearer lightin the dimmed eyes, and Aunt Meg's wrath knew no bounds. Havingfathomed this secret in the invalid's nature, we can readily understandthe twinkle lurking in Aunt Debby's orbs as she scented the comingstorm.
"Who told you I was feeling better, Nellie?" demanded Miss Margaret;and Winnie started at the anger in the voice, only a few minutes sinceso soft and gentle. "Who gave you authority to utter--to write such afalsehood? Better!" (with infinite scorn), "and my poor frame rackedwith such excruciating pain. Do you imagine, because a load is bornewith unmurmuring patience, that the weight is gradually lessening andthe burden will soon be lifted? Answer me at once. Who dared to tellyou I was much stronger?"
Nellie's amazement was extreme, but she replied quietly, while Winniesat by Miss Latimer's side, every fibre of her mischievous naturequivering with thorough enjoyment. "I only said what I believed to betrue, Aunt Meg. You have been looking better, and I heard Aunt Judithtelling a lady the other week that there was a very marked improvementlately, and that she was thankful to be able to say so."
Miss Margaret cast a withering glance at Miss Latimer's quiet face.
"That is all in a piece with the rest of Judith's stinginess," sheobserved sneeringly. "I know only too well why she speaks of beingthankful. Were I to regain my wonted strength, there would naturallybe less nourishing food required and fewer doctor's bills. Oh! I onlywish I could honestly say I feel a daily increase of health; but, alas!the very thought of being a heavy burden and viewed in the light of aconstant nuisance helps to weaken and keep me low."
At this point Nellie drew Winnie towards the window and tried to engageher in conversation; while Aunt Debby, lowering her voice, muttered,audibly enough, however, for the girls to hear, "Don't make a fool ofyourself, Meg, and talk such utter rubbish."
The invalid's rage increased, and she was about to make some rejoinder,when Miss Latimer interposed. "Hush, Margaret," said the quiet, gentlevoice; "for my sake do not speak so before the children. You knowperfectly well, dear, you are wilfully misinterpreting my words. I amonly too happy to be able to gladden your life in any way."
But the invalid refused to be pacified.
"Ah! I understand you, Judith. You do not wish to have your truecharacter exposed to the public. It suits you to pose as the saintabroad, I suppose, and--" but here Miss Latimer interrupted her.
"Margaret," she replied firmly, "you must either be silent or leave theroom. I cannot listen to such conversation in the presence of ourguest; and if you refuse to comply one way or the other, I shall beobliged to send the girls into my study."
"Oh no! not at all," returned Aunt Meg,
her voice suddenly assuming themost plaintive, martyr-like tone; "the house does not belong tome.--Debby, will you assist me to my bedroom? and--no, Judith, I couldnot think of troubling you; but perhaps Nellie would help her poor auntfor once."
Now all this time Winnie had been enjoying the tragic scene immensely,and shaking inwardly with suppressed laughter, greatly to Nellie'sdistress.
"Oh, be quiet, Win; she will hear you," whispered the girl hurriedly,as a low ripple of laughter was hastily smothered by a mock cough. Butthe warning came too late. Aunt Meg caught the choking sound and in amoment the saintly expression on her face gave place to one of intenserage and indignation. This sudden transformation was too much forWinnie's risible faculties. The whole affair struck her in such acomical light that she lost all control over herself, and, with a wildburst of stifled laughter fled hastily from the parlour to Nellie'sbedroom, where that young lady quickly followed.
"Close the door--close the door, Nell!" gasped Winnie, holding herhandkerchief to her mouth and vainly endeavouring to suppress thelaughter. "I know it's dreadfully wicked to behave in this manner, butI can't help myself," and off the child went again; while Nellie,unable to resist, joined in the merry peal. When both stopped atlength, the tears were running down their cheeks, at the sight of whichWinnie nearly repeated the performance. "This is awful," she panted,wiping her eyes and fanning her hot cheeks violently; "but when I beginto laugh I must just continue till I have emptied all the laughter outof me: then I am all right. No, Nellie, do not go away yet; wait tillI am quite calm."
Before Nellie could reply, Aunt Debby opened the door, and looking inshook her head admonishingly. "I should like to know if you are notboth ashamed of yourselves," she said severely; but there was laughterlurking in her eyes and playing about the corners of her lips whichbelied the severity of her words. Winnie jumped up, and throwing herarms round the good lady's neck, replied, "I have been very rude andnaughty, dear Miss Deborah; but indeed I did not mean any harm," andshe held up her rosy mouth for a kiss of pardon.
"There, there, it's all right, child. I understand. Come down to theparlour now; tea is ready." And with that, active, cheery Aunt Debbytrotted away, leaving the two culprits to follow at their leisure.
Aunt Judith: The Story of a Loving Life Page 10