Part 18 (1/2)

It was getting late. Without looking at the clock she knew that her holiday would soon be over, because through Joshua's little window there came a bright sun beam which was never there till after five. She tied on her bonnet, prepared a choice morsel of chicken for Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng, and set out on her further journey after a short farewell to the cobbler.

Joshua never liked saying goodbye, and did it so gruffly that it might have sounded sulky to the ear of a stranger, but Lilac knew better. She had a ”goodish step” before her, as she called it to herself, and if she were to get back to the farm before dusk she must make haste. So she hurried on, and soon in the distance appeared the two little white cottages side by side, perched on the edge of the steep down. The one in which she had lived with her mother was empty, and as she got close to it and stopped to look over the paling into the small strip of garden, she felt sorry to see how forlorn and deserted it looked. It had always been so trim and neat, and its white hearthstone and open door had invited the pa.s.ser-by to enter. Now the window shutters were fastened, the door was locked, the straggling flowers and vegetables were mixed up with tall weeds and nettles--it was all lifeless and cold.

It was a pity. Mother would not have liked to see it. Lilac pushed her hand through the palings and managed to pick some sweet-peas which were trailing themselves helplessly about for want of support, then she went on to the next gate. Poor Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng was very lonely now that her only neighbour was gone; very few people pa.s.sed over that way or came up so far from Danecross. Sometimes when Dan'l had a job on in the woods he was away for days and she saw no one at all, unless she was able to get to the cobbler's cottage, and that was seldom. Lilac knocked gently at the half-open door, and hearing no answer went in.

Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng was there, sitting asleep in a chair by the hearth with her head hanging uncomfortably on one side; her dress was untidy, her hair rough, and her face white and pinched. Lilac cast one glance at her and then looked round the room. There were some white ashes on the hearth, a kettle hanging over them by its chain, and at Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng's elbow stood an earthenware teapot, from which came a faint sickly smell; and when Lilac saw that she nodded to herself, for she knew what it meant.

The next moment the sleeper opened her large grey eyes and gazed vacantly at her visitor.

”It's me,” said Lilac. ”It's Lilac White.”

Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng still gazed without speaking; there was an unearthly flickering light in her eyes. At last she muttered indistinctly:

”You're just like her.”

Not in the least alarmed or surprised at this condition, Lilac glanced at the teapot and said reproachfully:

”You've been drinking poppy tea, and you promised Mother you wouldn't do it no more.”

Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng struggled feebly against the drowsiness which overpowered her, and murmured apologetically:

”I didn't go to do it, but it seemed as if I couldn't bear the pain.”

Lilac set down her basket, and opened the door of a cupboard near the chimney corner.

”Where's your kindlin's?” she asked. ”I'll make you a cup of real tea, and that'll waken you up a bit. And Uncle Joshua's sent you a morsel of chicken.”

”Ha'n't got no kindlin's and no tea,” murmured Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng. ”Give me a drink o' water from the jug yonder.”

No tea! That was an unheard-of thing. As Lilac brought the water she said indignantly:

”Where's Mr Wis.h.i.+ng then? He hadn't ought to go and leave you like this without a bit or a drop in the house.”

Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng seemed a little refreshed by the water and was able to speak more distinctly. She sat up in her chair and made a few listless attempts to fasten up her hair and put herself to rights.

”'Tain't Dan'l's fault this time,” she said; ”he's up in the woods felling trees for a week. They're sleeping out till the job's done. He did leave me money, and I meant to go down to the shop. But then I took bad and I couldn't crawl so far, and n.o.body didn't pa.s.s.”

”And hadn't you got nothing in the house?” asked Lilac.

”Only a crust a' bread, and I didn't seem to fancy it. I craved so for a cup a' tea. And I had some dried poppy heads by me. So I held out as long as I could, and n.o.body didn't come. And this morning I used my kindlin's and made the tea. And when I drank it I fell into a blessed sleep, and I saw lots of angels, and their harps was sounding beautiful in my head all the time. When I was a gal there was a hymn--it was about angels and golden crownds and harps, but I can't put it rightly together now. So then I woke and there was you, and I thought you was a sperrit. Seems a pity to wake up from a dream like that. But _I_ dunno.”

She let her head fall wearily back as she finished. Lilac was not in the least interested by the vision. She was accustomed to hear of Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng's angels and harps, and her mind was now entirely occupied by earthly matters.

”What you want is summat to eat and drink,” she said, ”and I shall just have to run back to Uncle Joshua's for some bread and tea. But first I'll get a few sticks and make you a blaze to keep you comp'ny.”

Mrs Wis.h.i.+ng's eyes rested an her like those of a child who is being comforted and taken care of, as having collected a few sticks she knelt on the hearth and fanned them into a blaze with her pinafore.

”You couldn't bide a little?” she said doubtfully, as Lilac turned towards the door.

”I'll be back in no time,” said Lilac, ”and then you shall have a nice supper, and you mustn't take no more of this,” pointing to the teapot.

”You know you promised Mother.”