Part 4 (1/2)

Mrs. Vane s.h.i.+vered a little.

'I do hope your father and Randolph will be in soon,' she said. 'It may be very mild here, but it strikes me as chilly all the same. I really don't think it is wise to stay out so late, and it has been so almost unnaturally still all day, I shouldn't wonder if it was setting in for stormy weather.'

Biddy's eyes sparkled.

'I would so like,' she was beginning, but she suddenly checked herself.

'Are there always s.h.i.+pwrecks when there's storms?' she asked.

'I fear so,' her mother replied.

'Then I mustn't like storms, I suppose,' said the child. 'It's very tiresome--everything's made the wrong way.'

'Bridget, take care what you're saying,' Mrs. Vane said almost sternly.

Biddy's face did not pucker up, but a dark look came over it, taking away all the pleasant brightness and the merry eagerness of the gray eyes. She did not often look like that, fortunately, for it made her almost ugly. And though her face cleared a little after a while, still it was gloomy, like the darkening sky outside, when she followed Alie downstairs to tea, after they had taken off their things and the torn frock had been changed.

Things had hardly got into their regular order yet at Seacove Rectory.

The Vanes had only been there three days, and every one knows that the troubles of a removal, especially to a considerable distance, are very much aggravated when it takes place in midwinter. It was not to be wondered at that 'mamma' felt both tired and rather dispirited. She was a little homesick too, for mammas can feel homesick as well as both boys and girls; and indeed I would not take upon myself to say that 'papas'

are quite above this weakness either. Christmas time had been spent at Mrs. Vane's old home, a warm, cheery, old-fas.h.i.+oned country-house, where grandpapa and grandmamma were still hale and hearty, and never so happy as when surrounded by their grandchildren. This old home of mamma's was within easy access of London too; no wonder, therefore, that the remote seaside rectory seemed a kind of exile to Mrs. Vane, though the reasons that had made Mr. Vane accept the offer of Seacove had been very important ones.

Rosalys, and Randolph too, though in a less thoughtful way, understood all this, and both of the elder children were anxious to help and cheer their parents to the best of their ability. And as all children love change, and most children enjoy, for a time at least, the freedom and independence of the country, it was much less trying for them than for their father and mother. To Bridget the idea of coming to live altogether at the seaside was one of unmixed pleasure. She dearly loved the sea, and all she had hitherto known of it was in pleasant summer weather, and at a bright amusing little place called Rockcliffe.

Seacove was certainly not exactly what she had expected; still, sand-hills and a great stretch of splendid sh.o.r.e were not to be despised. I feel sure, however, that young as she was she would have sympathised with her mother, and tried 'extra' hard not to vex her, had she known more about it all. But very little had been explained to her; indeed, Rosalys had been forbidden to say much about the reasons for the change to her little sister. 'She is such a baby for her age, and so heedless,' said Mrs. Vane. In treating Bride thus, I think her mother made a mistake.

The children's tea was laid out in the dining-room, for the schoolroom was still in a chaotic state, and Miss Millet, the governess, was not coming back for another week yet. And in the meantime mamma, and papa too, sometimes had tea with the little girls and Randolph.

The fire was burning brightly and the table looked inviting when Mrs.

Vane came downstairs. Alie had hurried down to see to it all; she knew what a difference a little care makes sometimes--how a crumpled-looking table-cloth or untidily placed dishes will add to low spirits when any one is not feeling as bright and cheerful as usual. There were still some of grandmamma's good things, which she had had packed in a hamper for the first start at the new rectory--home-made cakes and honey and fresh b.u.t.ter, the very sight of which made one hungry!

Rosalys glanced at her mother, and was pleased to see that the sweet face looked rather brighter and less anxious as she stood for a moment at the fire warming her hands.

'There is one comfort in this house, inconvenient though it is in many ways,' said Mrs. Vane, 'the chimneys don't smoke. And close to the sea as it is, one could scarcely have wondered if they had done so. If only it really does your father as much good as the doctors said, I am sure I shall get to like it.'

'Yes indeed,' Alie agreed. 'Mamma dear, won't you sit down and let me pour out your tea?'

'The wind is really rising,' said Mrs. Vane. 'I wish they would come in--papa and Rough. It would be such a pity if he caught cold,' she added with a little sigh.

Something in the tone and the sigh caught Biddy's attention. She was sitting at the table more silent than usual, very much absorbed, in fact, with her own grievances. What did mamma mean?

'Is papa ill?' she asked abruptly.

Alie glanced at her, frowning slightly. Her mother turned quickly.

'What a strange question to ask, Bride,' she said; 'it is just like you--you cannot but know that papa is not at all strong.'

Biddy looked puzzled. 'Strong' to her meant vaguely being able to lift heavy weights, or things of that kind.