Part 19 (1/2)
Then she kissed the boy and girl and went abruptly away to her own room.
”What does she mean by going on a visit?” said David to his sister.
”I don't know,” said Alison fearfully.
”It can't be----” began David.
”No, no; don't say it, Dave,” interrupted Alison. ”Don't say it aloud, don't----” She clapped her hands suddenly to his lips. ”I can't bear it,” she said suddenly. ”I won't hear it. No, it's a visit. It's all true; it's only a visit. Good-night, Dave.”
She went away to her own room. During the darkness and misery of that night Alison scarcely slept; but old Grannie slept. G.o.d had given his angels charge of her, and no one ever had more peaceful slumber.
CHAPTER XIII.
Monday came all too quickly. Grannie was very masterful during the few days which went before. She insisted on all the grandchildren doing exactly what she told them. There were moments when she was almost stern; she had always been authoritative, and had a certain commanding way about her. This week, even Alison did not dare to cross her in the smallest matter. There was not a single hitch in the arrangements which Mr. Williams had sketched out. Mrs. Faulkner took a great fancy to Alison, absolutely believed in her honesty and truth, and engaged her for a month's trial on the spot. She told her to be sure to be with her by ten o'clock on Monday to begin her new duties. Grannie went herself to see Mr. Watson; she had a private talk with him which no one knew anything about. He told her that David was a boy in a hundred, that he was certain to do well, for he was both clever and conscientious. He said that he could easily manage to fit up a bed for him in the back part of the shop; so he was provided for, and, according to Grannie and Mr. Watson, provided for well. When Harry heard of the family's exodus, he left the house without a word. He came back in the course of two or three hours, and told Mrs. Reed what he had done.
”I am going to sea,” he announced. ”I saw the captain of the _Brigand_ down at the West India Docks, and he'll take me as cabin boy. I dare say the life is a bit rough, but I know I shall like it. I have always been so keen for adventure. I am off to-morrow, Grannie; so I am out of the way.”
Grannie kissed the boy between his straight brows, looked into his fearless, dancing, mischievous eyes, and said a word or two which he never forgot. She sent him off the next morning with the best wardrobe she could muster, half a crown in his pocket, and her blessing ringing in his ears.
”'Taint much; it's a rough life, but it's the best that could be done,”
she said to Alison. ”Ef he keeps straight he'll have good luck, for it's in the breed,” she continued; then she resumed her preparations for the little girls.
They went away on Sat.u.r.day, and Alison, David, and Grannie had Sunday to themselves. It was a sort of day which Alison could never talk of afterward. It ought to have been very miserable, but it was not; there was a peace about it which comforted the much-tried girl, and which she often hugged to her heart in some of the dark days which were close at hand.
”Now, chil'en,” said Grannie, on the evening of that day, ”you two will please go off early in the morning and leave me the last in the old house.”
”But mayn't we see you as far as the railway station?” said Alison.
”No, my love, I prefer not,” was the response.
”But won't you tell us where you are going, Grannie?” said David. ”It seems so queer for us to lose sight of you. Don't you think it a bit hard on us, old lady?”
Grannie looked very earnestly at David.
”No,” she said, after a pause, ”'taint hard, it's best. I am goin' on a wisit; ef it aint comfortable, and ef the Lord don't want me to stay, why I won't stay; but I'd rayther not speak o' it to-night. You must let me have my own way, Dave and Alison. We are all suited for, some in one way and some in t'other, but I'd rayther go away to-morrow with jest the bit of fun of keeping it all to myself, at least for a time.”
”Is it in the country, Grannie?” said Alison.
”I'm told it's a fine big place,” replied Grannie.
”And are they folks you ever knew?”
”They're friends o' Mr. Williams,” said Grannie, shutting up her lips.
”Mr. Williams knows all about 'em. He says I can go to see you often; 'taint far from town. You won't really be very far from me at all.
But don't let us talk any more about it. When a woman comes to my time o' life, ef she frets about herself she must be a mighty poor sort, and that aint me.”
Monday morning dawned, and Grannie had her way. Alison and David both kissed her, and went out into the world to face their new duties. They were not coming back any more to the little home. Grannie was alone.
”I haven't a minute to waste,” she said to herself after they had gone, bustling about as she spoke. ”There's all the furniture to be sold now. The auctioneer round the corner said he would look in arter the chil'en were well out o' the way. Oh, I dare say I shall have heaps of time to fret by and by, but I ain't agoin' to fret now; not I.