Part 20 (1/2)

”Will you have to live in Norton altogether?” asked Margery dolefully, for she did not like the thought of losing Tom and Bella.

Bella, who read her feelings, hastened to comfort her. ”Oh no,” she cried; ”we've only taken the shop and a room behind it. Such a nice little room, Aunt Emma. You will have to come in and have tea there sometimes. The top part of the house is let to some one else. We shall drive in every day with the fresh things to sell, and come home at night.

I think florists and greengrocers--doesn't it sound grand, daddy?--don't do much after the morning, and I should think we could shut the shop at four or five in the afternoon every day but Sat.u.r.days. Don't you, father?”

”May I come in sometimes and serve the customers?” asked Maggie eagerly.

”Of course you shall.”

”When I've got a pig to sell will you carry it in too and sell it for me?”

asked Charlie quite gravely. ”You would put it in the window for me, wouldn't you, so that people could see it?”

”Of course,” answered Tom, with equal gravity, ”if you would sit there and make it behave. We don't want the window broken, for we haven't insured it yet, and we don't want all our things spoilt.”

”It would be a wonderful attraction,” went on Charlie thoughtfully, as though he had not heard his brother; ”it would draw crowds, and give you such a start-off. I think you'd have to pay me so much an hour, it would be such a fine advertis.e.m.e.nt.”

”It would draw people to the window, but I don't know that it would bring them inside,” laughed Bella.

”Of course people would think you were for sale too,” said Margery; ”it would be awkward if they wouldn't buy the pig unless you went with it----” But her sentence was never finished, for Charlie chased her out of the kitchen, and they finished their dispute in the garden.

”We'll begin tea; we won't wait for those harum-scarums,” said Aunt Emma, lifting a tart out of the oven; and the four drew cosily round the table.

Bella always loved those evening meals at the end of the long day in market, when they sat and enjoyed at their leisure the good things Aunt Emma provided, while they talked over all that had happened at home and abroad.

To-day seemed a day set apart, a special day, for had not their father walked to the milestone to meet them? This, in Bella's eyes, was a more important event than the taking of the shop. From the garden came sounds of laughter and screaming, the sober clucking of the hens, and the louder calling of Margery's ducks.

”We shall be very lonely, Emma, when these two are away all day, shan't we? I don't know what we shall do, do you?”

Their father spoke half-jestingly, yet there was something in his tone which was far removed from jesting. Tom looked from Bella to his father and back again. With his eyebrows he seemed to be asking her a question, and evidently she understood and signalled her answer.

”Father,” said Tom nervously, for he was always rather shy of speaking before others, ”we've thought out a plan, and we wondered if you'd fall in with it, or--be able to, or----”

”Well, my boy, I will if I can, if--well, if it isn't one to benefit me only. It seems to me you're all thinking always what'll be best and pleasantest for me, and I ain't going to have it; I ain't a poor invalid any longer.”

”Well, it isn't to benefit you only, father,” chimed in Bella eagerly; ”we think it will be best for all of us, and I think you'll think so too.

Go on, Tom.”

”Well,” said Tom, ”it's this,--that you go in to the shop every day with Bella; you can keep accounts and do that sort of thing better than I can, and----” he broke off suddenly, almost startled by the look of pleasure which broke over his father's face, the sudden lightening of the sadness which, unconsciously, always showed now in his eyes. To be at work again!

to be able to give real help, to be a working partner! To the man who had for so long borne an enforced idleness, who had had to sit by and see others work beyond their strength because he could do nothing to help--it seemed too good to be true, a happiness almost too great. ”Do the work?”

Of course he could do it. It would put new life into him to be a man again and worker.

”But what about you, Tom? It would be a bitter disappointment to give it up, wouldn't it?”

”Disappointment?” cried Tom; ”why, there's nothing I'd like better.