'MY DEAREST LITTLE BOBBY—
'Have you forgotten the sad lady in her garden, I wonder? The one you comforted by your sweet quaintness and loving-heartedness? I have often thought of you in this hot country, and now I am feeling rather sad again, I thought I would cheer myself up by writing to my little friend.
'I had such a happy time when I first came out, Bobby. Do you remember the picture of the golden gates? I found the little black children and women here were so interested in hearing about it that I set to work and drew and painted a big picture after the fashion of that beautiful one in your grandmother's Bible. I used to draw a good deal when I was a girl, but my attempt is very poor when I think of the original. Still the children here were so delighted with it that I wondered if you would be too. So I set to work to paint another, and this one is coming to you through the post. Perhaps Nurse will hang it up in your nursery for you. How is Nobbles? Give him my love. I hope he doesn't cut off the heads of the poor flowers now. He will be older and wiser I expect. Are you still sitting up in bed at night and fancying you hear your father's knock? Or do you sit in your apple-tree and think you see him coming along the road? How I hope he will arrive home one day and take you by surprise! I have not forgotten that I am to try to find him for you, and curiously enough I heard his name mentioned the other evening when I was dining with some old friends of mine. And who do you think was talking about him, Bobby? Your Uncle Mortimer. Isn't it funny that I should meet him out here? I knew him when I was a little girl, but of course he did not remember me. There was a Major Knatchbull, who had met your father in South America, but he had not seen him for several years. I told your uncle that I wanted to find your father, and then we discovered that we had both promised the same small boy to do so. How I hope we shall succeed in our quest! Now I must tell you why I am feeling sad. I have not been well since I came out here, and the doctors tell me that I must not stay in India. So that means I must give up my work, which I was beginning to love, and come back to my empty house and home. Will you come and comfort me if I do? It won't be just yet, for I shall stay out here till the rainy season is over. Good-bye, my darling. If you can write me a little letter I shall be so glad to get it. Your Uncle Mortimer has just asked me to go for a ride with him, so I must stop.
Your very loving friend,ISOBEL GRANTHAM.'
'Well,' said Mr. Allonby, 'that letter comes from a nice woman, Bobby. Who is she? And how many people have you set to work looking for your missing father?'
Bobby looked up gravely.
'Only her and Master Mortimer. I likes them both 'normously. Isn't it a long letter? And, oh dear! if she's home I shan't see her.'
'Would you like me to take you back to your grandmother?'
Bobby slipped down from his chair and caught hold of his father's hand with imploring eyes.
'Father, dear, you won't do it, will you? You'll never let me leave you?'
Mr. Allonby took him upon his knee and gave him one of his rare kisses.
'I'm afraid I'm not good enough to be your father, sonny. You expect such a lot from me, and I can only give so little. I shall be a terrible disappointment to you all round.'
But Bobby laid his curly head against his father's shoulder and clasped him round the neck.
'I belongs to you, and you belongs to me,' he said, with infinite satisfaction in his tone, and Mr. Allonby answered, with a little embarrassed laugh:
'And finding's keeping, my little boy. We'll hold together for the present, at any rate.'
Of course Lady Isobel's letter had to be answered, and the wonderful news told of Bobby's change of home. His letter took him a long time to write, and True helped him a great deal. Mrs. Allonby sent it as it was, with all the imperfections of spelling and many a blot and erasure; but she added a little note herself, as Bobby's left much to be explained.
'MY DEAR LADY FREND—
'Me and Nobbles is kite wel, so is True. Father came at last. He tuked me in a motor home. I have a knew mother. She is very nice. We saw sum reel wite gates, but they was loked. We mene to find sum more. Me and Nobbles runned away and hid under the sete. We did not go back no more. Plese come and see me in this house, and giv Master Mort'mer my best luv. I warnt to see him agen. I went in the rode to mete my father and he comed, but I did not no him. Thank you verry much for the piksher. I shall like it wen it comes and so will True. She spells my leter for me.
Your loving boy,BOBBY.'
And when the letter was sent, Bobby set himself to watch for his picture.
It came very soon, and to his eyes was a miracle of beauty.
Mrs. Allonby had it framed for him and hung up over his bed in the dressing-room. He was never tired of looking at it, and what pleased him most was a little boy about his own age just being let inside the gates by a kind faced angel.
'Look at his white dress; not one tiny spot, Nobbles,' he would exclaim. 'That's me going in, and I shall walk right up the street to God like that.'
There was a dark corner in the picture, and two weeping people being turned away. In fact it was as nearly like the original as it could be, only it was much bigger, and the gates were lovely in their gold and white paint.
True admired it as much as he did, and would often come and stand and look at it with delight and awe.
'I wonder if I have a right to go inside,' she said. 'I love having a right to do things, then no one can stop me.'
'It's wearing a white robe gives you right,' said Bobby.
'Yes, and doing the Commandments,' responded True quickly; 'that's the differcult part. But I mean to be inside, not outside, I tell you that!'
Many delightful excursions did the children have with their father, but the summer days began to shorten and the sun appeared less often, and Mrs. Allonby kept them more at home. She herself did not get stronger. Her appetite failed. Gradually she came downstairs less, and kept in bed more. Mr. Allonby grew careworn and anxious, the doctor appeared very often, and still Bobby and True played together gleefully, with little idea of the black shadow that was going to fall upon their happy home.
Then one bright sunny morning True asked Mr. Allonby if he would give them a ride in his car.
He looked at her for an instant in silence, then said slowly:
'No, we must do without motor drives now; I am going to sell it.'
'Sell it! Oh, dad, you mustn't!'
'I must,' he said; 'I want to give your mother all the comfort and ease I can, and we are poor people. Besides, I shall have no heart for anything now.'
'Why?' questioned True.
'Don't ask so many questions,' Mr. Allonby said sharply, and he was so seldom vexed with them that the children looked at each other with dismayed faces.
Later that morning Mr. Allonby was wandering moodily up and down his strip of garden smoking his pipe; his head was bent, his hands loosely clasped behind him. Suddenly he felt a soft little hand take hold of one of his.
'Father, dear, do tell me about your sad finks. I know they're sad from your face.'
It was Bobby. His father looked down upon him for a minute, then without a word led him into a field which ran up at the back of their garden. He paced the whole length of the field with his little son before he spoke again, and then, leaning against a five-barred gate, he said heavily:
'I can't hold up against it, sonny! I was a worthless creature till she took me in hand, and now, when she is making something of me, when we are going to peg away together at the book which is going to make our fortune, she is going to leave me. I can't live without her! I shall go to the dogs!'
'Is it mother you mean? Oh, father, we won't let her leave us! Why does she want to go?'
'She doesn't; it is cruel fate. Bobby, my boy, life is an utter failure. Oh! I don't know what I am saying, or why I am talking like this. Your mother is dying fast, can't you see it? I hoped she was getting stronger, but the doctor says it has only been her strong will that has got her downstairs at all. Oh, Helen, you're too young, too full of life and spirit to be taken! I will not believe it!'
He folded his arms on the top bar of the gate and dropped his head upon them with a groan. Bobby stood perfectly still; the news was so astounding, so bewildering, that he could hardly take it in.
'Is mother going through the golden gate now?' he asked.
There was no answer. Then Bobby climbed up on the gate with a longing desire to comfort his father. He had never seen a grown-up person in trouble before, and it was with the greatest effort he prevented himself from bursting into tears.
'Father, dear, don't cry! It's a lovely thing when God calls people. Mother tolded us herself last Sunday it was. And p'raps God will take her for a visit, and then send her back again. Is she reely going into heaven soon? Oh, wouldn't it be nice if we could all go with her! May I run and tell True; and may we just ask mother about it a little?'
'Leave me, child! Run away!' And when his pattering footsteps had died away Bobby's father said in bitterness of spirit: 'Heartless little scamp! He is enjoying the sensation of it!'
But he misunderstood Bobby. The child had never seen death, and did not understand it in the least; his vision was steadfastly fixed on the life hereafter. What wonder that the glories of it eclipsed the present shadow!
True received his news first incredulously, then stamped and stormed in helpless passion.
'Mother shan't die! She shan't be put in the ground! Bobby, we'll keep her from going. Oh, mother, mother! we couldn't live without you!'
A burst of tears followed, in which Bobby joined her from very sympathy. Then softly they stole up the steep narrow stairs to their mother's room. They met Margot at the door.
'Oh dear!' she sighed, as she saw their faces, 'I s'ppose your father has been and told you. The missis is quite nicely this morning, and wants to see you. Now if you go in, no tears, mind—nothing to make her sad. You must make believe you're glad she's going, same as I do.'
A husky sob broke in the faithful servant's voice. She signed to the children to go in, and turned away abruptly herself.
Hand in hand, on tiptoe, they stole to their mother's bedside.
Surely she was better with such a pink colour in her cheeks! She smiled brightly at them, but her voice was weak and low.
'I haven't seen you for two days, darlings! Tell me what you've been doing.'
'I've been in the field with father,' said Bobby, taking one of Mrs. Allonby's hands in his, and very gently raising it to his lips to kiss. 'We've comed to tell you that we are very glad you're going through the gates, but we would like you to ask God to let you come back to us very soon.'
Sudden tears came to Mrs. Allonby's eyes.
'I think you must come to me,' she said almost in a whisper.
'We should like to do that very much, said Bobby bravely. 'True and me are ready, we fink.'
'But, darlings,' went on Mrs. Allonby, 'you must not feel impatient if God does not send for you just yet. I want my little daughter to grow up to be a comfort to her father, to keep the house tidy, do his mending, have comfortable little meals for him, and let him always feel he has a home and a little daughter waiting for him.'
'And me?' questioned Bobby eagerly. 'What must I do for him? I belongs to him besides True.'
'You belong to him more than True does. I want you to be his little companion. Go out with him, talk to him, tell him about your lovely picture, let him feel he cannot get on without you. Oh, Bobby, dear, you love your father with all your heart and soul! Show it to him by your life. I want you two to be inseparable. I shall pray you may be.'
A glorious light dawned in Bobby's eyes. He caught Mrs. Allonby's meaning.
'I'll die for him if I can,' he said fervently; and deep down in his heart he meant what he said.
True stood looking at her mother with sadly pathetic eyes.
'When are you going, mother? Oh, I think God might do without you a little longer. I won't pretend I want you to go; I won't.'
'My little girl, I know you don't want me to leave you; and at first I felt just like you do. But I have been lying here talking to God, and He has been talking to me, and now I know that He makes no mistakes, and is doing the very best for all of us by taking me now. I shall look for you and father, and one day we shall be all together again, I hope, in that beautiful country that now seems so far away.'
There was a little silence in the room; then Mrs. Allonby turned to Bobby.
'Bobby, dear, will you say me that verse in that old Italian Bible of your grandmother's? Somehow, now I am so near the gates, it seems to bring me more comfort than our English version. I have so often broken God's commandments. But the other—is so simple—so comforting!'
Bobby repeated his favourite verse with glad assurance.
'"Blessed are they that wash their robes in the blood of the Lamb, that they may have right to the tree of life, and enter in through the gates into the City."'
'Yes,' said Mrs. Allonby when he had finished, 'when we come near the gates, Bobby, and all our life rises before us with all our sins, it is the thought of the Lamb's precious blood that brings us peace and courage. I like the verse about doing His commandments for life; but for death your verse is far and away the best.'
The children could hardly follow this. True climbed upon the bed and sat close to her mother.
'Is it a very nice thing to die, mother?' she asked.
'My darling, it is nice to feel that our dear Saviour is holding me tight. "Lo, I am with you alway," He says to me. And so I am content.'
'Oh,' said Bobby, 'I should like to see the gates open and let you in. Will you walk up the street by those lovely trees? And will you come to the gates to meet us when it's our time?'
Mrs. Allonby smiled her answer, and Margot now crept softly in and told the children they must go.
'I must have a kiss from each of them,' Mrs. Allonby said feebly. 'I don't think—I never know, Margot, whether I shall get through another night.'
So they kissed her, and reluctantly left the room. That was a strange, long day to them. Mr. Allonby came in and spent the rest of the day in his wife's room. The children had to go to bed without wishing him good-night. Bobby unhung his picture and placed it on the dressing-table opposite his bed, where he could look at it. In the early morning he lay gazing at it with fascinated eyes. He followed in thought his mother's arrival there, her entrance through the gates, and her triumphal march up to the shining, golden throne in the distance. He seemed to hear the blast of trumpets, the rapt singing of the angels attending her, and he was completely lost in his vision when he was suddenly roused by his father's entrance. He looked strangely untidy and wretched, his little boy thought. Bobby was peculiarly susceptible to outside appearances. His father was dressed in his ordinary tweed suit, but his eyes were haggard, his hair rough, his white collar crumpled, and his face heated and tear-stained.
He came in impulsively and threw himself on his knees by his child's bed.
'Oh, Bobby, little chap, she has gone, she has left me, and I've promised to meet her again! We must help each other. May God Himself teach me, for I'm not fit to teach you. I don't know how I shall get through life without her. I always felt that since her accident she has been too good to live. She never made one murmur.'
Bobby opened his mouth to speak, then stopped, and tears crowded into his eyes.
'Is she really gone, father? Oh, how could God take her so quick? I did want to say a proper good-bye. Look, father, dear, at my picsher. Is she inside by this time, do you think? How long does it take to go to heaven?'
Mr. Allonby took up his little son's picture and gazed at it with keen interest, then he put it down with a heavy sigh.
'Yes, she's there right enough, sonny. I don't doubt that. Shall we say a little prayer together—you and I—for I feel quite unable for what is before me.'
So the grown-up man knelt by the small bed, and Bobby jumped up and knelt by his side, and in very broken, faltering accents he prayed:
'Merciful God, have pity on me and my children; be with us now she has left us. Help me to do my duty; forgive my selfish life. I want to be different; change me; set me right; make me what she wanted me to be. Bless this boy here, make him a better man than his father. And the little motherless girl—how can I take care of her? Have pity and help us all for Christ's sake. Amen.'
It was a prayer that Bobby never forgot all his life, and he never spoke of it to anyone. Childlike, he kept it wrapped up in his heart. He was puzzled at his father's distress; he thought no grown-up person ever cried; but his whole being quivered afresh with loving devotion to the father who now had only himself and True to comfort him.
Those were strange sad days to Bobby and True. But one engrossing thought helped them along, and that was how they could be a comfort to their father. Margot ordered the household. Mr. Allonby came in and out, speaking little to anyone. He took long walks by himself, and would shut himself up for hours in his den writing, or trying to write, the book that was going to bring him a fortune.
Autumn crept on; the days grew short, and dark, and at last Margot ventured to have a talk with her master.
'It will be about the children's schooling,' she said hesitatingly. 'Miss True is getting a big girl—and Master Bobby——'
'Oh!' groaned her master, 'how am I to send them away from me? But I am thinking over plans, Margot. I want to get away from this tiny house. I think of going to London, and perhaps going abroad again. Let the children run wild a little longer, then when we move to London I can settle something.'
Margot withdrew. She had said her say, and dreaded any change herself.
One evening after their tea was over, Mr. Allonby broached the subject to the children himself. The little sitting-room was very cosy in the firelight. True was sitting with an air of immense importance trying to darn a worsted sock of her father's. Margot had been giving her lessons, and with a very big needle, and a thread that was so long that it continually got itself into knots, she worked away at an alarming looking hole in the heel.
Bobby and Nobbles were lying on the hearthrug; they had been looking at a picture-book together; but directly Mr. Allonby spoke, the book was shut and Bobby was all attention.
'I'm afraid your idle time must soon come to an end,' he said. 'Margot is reminding me what little dunces you are. Can either of you read a book properly yet?'
'I can,' said True. 'I read to Bobby often; but I'm rather tired of my books. I know them all by heart.'
'I can nearly read,' said Bobby. 'I reads to Nobbles often.'
'Oh, that's only your make up!' said True, a little scornfully. 'You can't read long words at all; you know you can't. But, dad, you won't send us to school, will you—not away from you?'
'I'm afraid I must.'
Bobby's look of horror made his father smile. He lifted him upon his knee.
'Every boy goes to school, Bobby. You don't want to be a baby always, do you?'
'Mother said,' asserted Bobby gravely, 'that I was to be your little kerpanion; she didn't want me never to leave you.'
'You're a first-rate little companion, sonny. I shall miss you very much; but I must think of your good first. There don't seem to be any nice schools near here, nor do I know of anyone who would come and teach you for an hour or two. And I can't afford to live on here. I must go to London, I think, and set to work at something. I heard to-day from an old friend of mine who wants me to join another exploring party. Perhaps I may do this. In any case I fear our little home will be broken up.'
Bobby looked up into his father's face with a quivering under lip.
'Are you going to send me back to grandmother? I've had such a tiny, weeny time with you. I reely don't think I'll live away from you, father, again. I couldn't expeck and expeck every day for you to come back to me, and then have you never come. And I'll promise true and faithful to be good if you'll take me with you.'
'And I promised mother faithful I'd have a comf'able home for you always, dad. She told me I was to. I don't think she'd like it at all if we was sent away from you.'
Mr. Allonby looked at the eager children's faces thoughtfully.
'I shouldn't be going abroad till the spring. If I could find someone to teach you we might be together for the winter. But I can't stay here. I must be nearer town. We never meant to stay here after the autumn. We came down because of my health. I am well now. Perhaps I can get some cheap lodgings just out of town, where Margot would look after you. We will see.'
'That will be very nice,' said True, darning away with increased speed and importance. 'I'm growing awfully fast, dad, and I'll be able to look after the lodgings for you.'
'And you won't never send me back to grandmother's?' said Bobby anxiously.
No, indeed, I won't. I heard to-day, by-the-bye, that your grandmother was very ill.'
Bobby did not speak for a minute. Then he said slowly:
'I wonder if she'd like to see me afore she dies.'
'Oh, we won't think she is as bad as that,' said his father cheerfully.
He went up to London the next day, and stayed away three whole days. True and Bobby felt very forlorn. They quarrelled a good deal, and Margot at last lost patience with them.
'Ain't you ashamed of yourselves? And the grass not green yet on your mother's grave. What must she think if she's allowed to get a glimpse of you?'
'It's all Bobby; he's so mastering,' said True; 'and I'm the oldest; and he ought to do what I tell him.'
'And you angerise me,' said Bobby, determined to use as long words as True did; 'and you make my white dress all dirty. I try to be ever so good; but you go on and on, and I'm getting wickeder and wickeder!'
A little sob came up in his throat. Bobby had the sincere desire to be good, but he found it very hard to knock under to True, who was quite determined in her own mind that she ought to be the ruler.
They welcomed their father back joyfully. He seemed very tired, but more cheerful than he had been for a long time.
'I have found some rooms in West Kensington quite cheap, and I really think we shall be very comfortable there. It will be cheaper than living out of town. I can only manage three rooms; but Margot will have one with you, True, and Bobby and I will have the other; and there's quite a nice front sitting-room. You will be able to watch all the traffic in the street from its window.
'Are you very, very poor, dad?' asked True.
'I have enough to keep you in food and clothes,' said Mr. Allonby, 'and for schooling, I hope; but it will be a tight fit until I get my book written.'
Margot sighed when she heard they were to go to London, but True and Bobby were delighted. They enjoyed the bustle of packing; and when, one dull November day, they were whirled away in the train towards their new home they were beside themselves with delight. It was dark when they got out of the train. The drive across London in a cab through the brilliantly lighted streets was enchanting to them; and when they reached their lodgings, and were allowed to sit up to a late supper with their father, consisting of mutton-chops and cheese and pickles, Bobby informed his father that it was better than any birthday treat.
They went to bed very happy but very tired, and for the next few days the novelty of their surroundings kept them quiet and good. Bobby had a real thirst for information, and, when his father took him out, proved a very interesting little companion. True was delighted to go shopping with Margot, who was so disgusted with the landlady's cooking, and so miserable at having so little housework to do, that she never gave Mr. Allonby any rest till he arranged that she should have the use of the kitchen stove for a part of the day.
It was about the second week after their arrival that Bobby heard of his grandmother's death. It awed him, but did not affect him much. She had never shown any love for him, and was almost a stranger to him. But he was surprised when he had a letter from his old nurse telling him that his uncle and aunt were going to leave the house, and his Uncle Mortimer coming home from India to take possession of it.
'I should like to see Master Mortimer again,' Bobby said; 'me and Nobbles was so very fond of him.'
'I don't know what he will do with himself in that big house,' said Mr. Allonby. 'He ought to get married if he settles down there.'
'It is not a very nice house,' Bobby asserted gravely; 'it's so stiff and partic'lar, and all the chairs and furnesher are so proper. I always have to go on tiptoe. But Master Mortimer did used to play hide-and-seek with me in the garden. But I don't want never to go back again.'
'It's time you were at school, sonny; your grammar doesn't improve. I wish I could hear of someone who would teach you; but I'm afraid it must be school.'
Now True and Bobby had decided together that school was a horrible place, and at all costs they must try to keep from going to it. They had many an anxious talk about it, and at last, one morning after Mr. Allonby had gone out for the day and left them to their own devices, True announced her plan.
'We'll find a nice kind of governess ourselves, Bobby. Come and look out of the window. Why, there must be millions and billions of governesses in London! We'll go out by ourselves and find one. Wait till Margot has gone down to the kitchen, and then we won't say anything to anyone, but will go out and get one.'
Bobby clapped his hands. 'I should fink they would keep some in a shop,' he said; but True did not feel at all sure about this.
They accomplished their design most satisfactorily, and, wrapped up in their warm coats, they slipped downstairs and down into the street without being noticed.
'Now where shall we find one?' enquired Bobby.
'We'll go in a 'bus,' said True. 'I've brought some pennies, and the 'busman will tell us where to go.'
'Let Nobbles call one,' said Bobby eagerly; 'that's what father always does, holds up his stick, and they waits till we get in.'
So Nobbles was waved frantically in the air when the first 'bus appeared.
And though it was not at the proper starting point, the driver saw the two small children and good-naturedly pulled up for them. They were helped in by the conductor. There were only three other people inside, an old lady, a young girl, and a man. The shining, radiant faces of True and Bobby attracted attention; still more their whispered conversation.
'She must be very cheap. Dad hassolittle money.'
This from True, with great emphasis.
'And she must be very smiling, and 'stremely fond of me and Nobbles.'
This from Bobby, with a wise nod of his curly head.
'We'll choose the one we like best,' said True.
And then they were asked by the conductor for their money.
'We'll have a white ticket please,' said True grandly.
'Oh, I likes the pink ones best,' exclaimed Bobby eagerly.
The conductor eyed them with some amusement.
'Where do you want to go?'
Bobby was silent, and so was True for a minute, then she said:
'We want to go to the place where they keep governesses.'
The three other passengers looked at the children in astonishment; the conductor laughed.
'Did your mother send you?' he asked.
True looked down upon her black frock and then up at him.
'Don't you know that mother is dead?' she said. 'That's what I wear my black frock for.'
'Do you know your way about London, little girl? You are very small to be out alone.'
It was the old lady who spoke.
'The 'busmen and policemen always know,' said True cheerfully. 'Dad told us so.'
'Oh, you have a father——'
'Come,' said the conductor, interrupting, 'give me your pennies; you'd best get out at the next stop and go home again.'
'We're going to find a gov'ness,' said Bobby, glaring at the conductor rather angrily.
The young girl looked at him over the book she was reading.
'You want a registry,' she said. 'There's a good one in Kensington High Street. I'll show it to you if you get out with me.'
True looked relieved.
'Is that the place where you find them?' she asked.
'I never heard of such a thing as children looking for a governess!' ejaculated the old lady. 'Poor little motherless things, their father ought to be ashamed of himself sending them out on such an errand!'
'Dad didn't send us,' said True, feeling she must defend her father at all costs. 'We knew he wanted us to have one, so we came ourselves.'
'And then we won't be sent to school,' put in Bobby.
True gave him a sharp nudge with her elbow.
'Don't talk so much,' she said.
Bobby subsided meekly. He felt this strange experience was rather bewildering, and wondered at True's calm composure.
'I'll help you to find one,' said the young girl. 'I'm studying to be one myself, so I know the sort you ought to have.'
True looked at her with interest. She was in a shabby blue serge coat and skirt, but she wore a bunch of violets in her buttonhole. Her hat was dark blue, her gloves were white worsted ones, and her face was bright and smiling. Her whole appearance was pleasant. When she got up to go, she held out her hands to them.
'Come on. I'll show you where governesses can be found, and perhaps help you choose one. It will be great fun!'
True and Bobby followed her delightedly. The old lady shook her head after them with a sigh.
'The irresponsibility of men! It's to be hoped that young person won't decoy them away and rob them. I think we ought to have handed them over to the police to see them safely home.'
The man at the farther end of the 'bus spoke for the first time. As the old lady addressed him he was obliged to do so.
'The rising generation can soon dispense with their fathers,' he said. 'Those are small specimens of a type.'
Meanwhile the girl in blue serge had walked True and Bobby up a side street, and in at an office door.
'This is one of the best registries in this part of the world,' she said. 'Now we'll tell Mrs. Marsh what you want, and see if she knows of one. When I get the certificates I am working for, I mean to come to her to find me a situation.'
An elderly woman behind a table looked up at them as they entered. The girl spoke to her brightly.
'Good morning, Mrs. Marsh. I have brought you two young people who want a governess. I don't know whether they can pay your fees. But perhaps you can make that right with their father.'
'We want a very cheap governess,' said True, looking up anxiously into Mrs. Marsh's face. 'Dad is very poor, but he'll pay her something.'
'I think your father will have to write me some particulars,' said Mrs. Marsh, looking at the small children with some amusement.
Oh, we'll be able to choose her,' cried Bobby. 'She must be 'ticularly kind and nice.'
'And what will she have to do?'
Bobby looked at True.
'Yousay. She'll teach me to read, won't she?'
True tried hard to put on a grown-up air. She did not like Mrs. Marsh's amused smile at all.
'Margot says we ought to have a governess to teach us in the morning, and we shan't do any lessons in the afternoon; and she mustn't stay to dinner, because Margot says she doesn't know how to cook for us; we seem to eat more than we ought to. And she mustn't have a cross face, and mustn't wear spectacles.'
'And she must be 'normously fond of Nobbles,' said Bobby, thrusting Nobbles' ugly little face up close to Mrs. Marsh's.
'And we're to learn French and sums—and—dancing,' said True, suddenly struck with a bright thought.
'Yes,' exclaimed Bobby, with a beaming smile, 'dancing, o' course, mostly dancing, me and Nobbles finks!'
The young lady in a blue serge broke into a rippling laugh.
'Oh, Mrs. Marsh, I wish I could teach them myself. Aren't they delicious!'
'Well, why shouldn't you?' said Mrs. Marsh, looking at the speaker with good-natured interest.
'But you were the one to advise me to stick to my studies,' said the girl. 'You said I could never command any salary worth having till I was thoroughly certificated.'
'Yes, I did say so, Miss Robsart; but you could give these children a couple of hours every morning and still pursue your studies.'
The girl turned to the children.
'Do you think I would do?' she said, a pink colour coming into her cheeks and making her look very pretty. 'I could come to you from ten o'clock to half-past twelve every day. We could get through a lot of lessons in that time.'
True looked up at her with rapturous eyes.
'Me and Bobby would love you!' she said. 'Oh, please come straight back with us, and tell dad you'll come.'
Two other ladies entered the office at this juncture. Mrs. Marsh dismissed the children hurriedly.
'There, run along, my dears. There'll be no fees; and you couldn't have a kinder lady than Miss Robsart to teach you; and tell your father that her father was vicar of our church near here many years ago, and she's the nicest young lady I know.'
The children hurried out with their new friend.
'There, Bobby!' True said, a little triumphantly. 'See how easy it is to find a governess!'
And Bobby took hold of Miss Robsart's hand confidingly.
'Me and Nobbles likes you 'ticularly,' he said.
Mr. Allonby had been considerably startled by many things that the children had said and done, but he was never more so than when they appeared before him in the sitting-room with a strange young lady. He had not been in long, and thought they were with Margot. Miss Robsart began to feel a little uncomfortable when she realised her position.
'It's a guv'ness,' Bobby said eagerly; 'me and True went out and finded her ourselves, and she'll come to teach us all the morning.'
'We do so hope you'll like her, dad, because we do. We thought we'd get her as a surprise for you.'
'I really——' began Mr. Allonby, then his eyes met Miss Robsart's and they both laughed aloud.
'I must explain myself,' she said, checking her laugh and speaking hastily and nervously 'I met your little boy and girl in a 'bus and heard them say they had come out to look for a governess. Of course they had not the smallest idea how to set about it, so I took them to a very good registry. I fancied you must have been wanting to have one from what they said, and then, as we were all talking about it, I wondered if I could undertake the situation myself. I am very anxious to earn something, as I have an invalid sister at home, and we are very badly off. I can give you good references. My father was a clergyman. I have been educated in the Kensington High School.
She stopped. Mr. Allonby drew a chair forward for her, then turned to the children.
'I don't know what you two scamps have been doing,' he said; 'something of which I had no conception, I know; but I should like to have a talk with this lady, and you can both go off to Margot, who must be wondering where you are.'
True and Bobby obeyed instantly. They were extremely pleased with themselves, and burst in upon Margot, who was in the bedroom tidying herself to bring in dinner.
'We've got ourselves a governess, Margot.'
'We finded her in a 'bus.'
'She has a smiling face and doesn't wear spectacles or grey hair.'
'She'll teach us to dance round the room.'
'She's talking to dad now; and I believe she will be cheap, because we told her she must be.'
'And me and Nobbles loves her already.'
Margot put her hands up to her ears.
'I think you're quite demented!' she said. 'You've never been out in the streets alone?'
'We went in a 'bus.'
They told their tale. Margot was horrified at their daring.
'You've picked up a strange young woman in the streets and brought her here? She'll maybe belong to a band of burglars! Your poor father is too easy-going. To think of his talking to her at all! Let me see the young hussy, and I'll send her packing! To trade on your innocence in such a fashion!'
Margot grew quite vehement.
True tried to soothe her.
'You don't understand. You haven't seen her. Oh, come downstairs and just look at her.'
'I'm going this very minute. I have to lay the cloth for dinner. 'Tis time she was off; and it's well you've got one person who's wide awake to look after you all in this wicked London!'
Margot stumped down the stairs, her cap quivering with excitement. The children hung over the banisters watching her. They saw the sitting-room door open, and Miss Robsart came out.
'Then I will send you my references tomorrow morning. I shall prefer to do so. Good morning.'
'Margot, show this lady out.'
It was their father who spoke, and Margot moved down the passage slowly. She opened the hall door and eyed Miss Robsart up and down with grim eyes and lips, then she suddenly followed her out on the door-step and half closed the door behind her.
'She's scolding her,' said True.
They waited anxiously. Presently Margot came in and shut the door. She shook her head doubtfully, then went into the sitting-room, and the children heard a long conversation going on between her and their father. When they came to the dinner-table with him, True asked him, 'Did Margot say nasty things about our governess?'
'Our governess, indeed!'
Mr. Allonby leant back in his chair and gave one of his hearty laughs.
'Margot told her she was a wolf in sheep's clothing, I believe. I don't know what she'll say when she knows. I have practically engaged her on the strength of her frank honest face and gentle voice. Fortune favoured you, young pickles, for you tumbled against the right sort. She may not be very learned or experienced, but she knows enough to teach you, and I am glad to have the thing settled.'
The children clapped their hands.
'She's coming, and we won't have to go to school.'
'I'll keep you with me this winter, but I shall really have to take an extra room for my writing; this one sitting-room will never hold us all.'
A few letters with references passed between Miss Robsart and Mr. Allonby, and then, in spite of Margot's prejudice, she came every morning and gave the children their lessons.
The novelty kept them good. Miss Robsart was young and bright, and had a real love for children, and a gift for imparting knowledge, so things went smoothly. Mr. Allonby took himself and his writing into a small back room, which was the delight of True's heart. She dusted it, and tidied it, and cleaned everything she could lay her hands upon. Bobby was jealous of the time she spent in there.
'I ought to be there more than you,' he argued; 'it's a man's room.'
'Mother told me I was to keep dad's rooms tidy, and I will, and dad likes me to do it.'
'I could clean his brass fender, I'm sure.'
'No you couldn't; only girls can clean; boys can't, never!'
'Boys clean shop windows and sweep floors, I've seen them.'
'Well, anyhow you can't, you don't know how, and mother said I was to.'
This unanswerable argument always crushed Bobby.
Saturday afternoons were a great delight to the children, for Mr. Allonby always gave himself up to them then, and took them out with him sight-seeing. They visited the Zoo in this way, the Tower, Madame Tussaud's, the British Museum, St. Paul's, and Westminster Abbey, and many other places of interest and amusement.
On Sunday morning their father always took them to church. In the afternoon he would smoke in his little study; and they were allowed to be with him, and have their tea there as a treat. Occasionally Mr. Allonby would try to give them a Bible lesson; very often they would tell him a Bible story.
'I want to bring you up as your mother would have done,' he said to True one day.
'We'll bring ourselves along, dad,' she responded cheerfully; 'we're trying hard to be good, and we pray to God to manage us when we can't remember in time.'
'Father,' said Bobby one Sunday afternoon, 'do you fink I could ever save your life?'
'I don't know, I'm sure, sonny. What makes you ask?'
'In my reading lesson yesterday—it was about the mouse who saved a lion—it was very difficult to think how he could; but he reely did it, didn't he?'
'Yes, and I suppose you think it applies to you. Well, now, let us think. I must be put in prison somewhere, and you must come and let me out.'
'But you'd have to be wicked to be put in prison,' objected True. 'You couldn't be wicked, dad.'
'I hope I couldn't, but I don't know. I think I would rather not get into such a scrape, Bobby.'
'I should like to do somefing for you,' said Bobby with wistful eyes.
'Why?' asked his father.
Bobby coloured up. If he had followed his natural instinct he would have flung himself into his father's arms and exclaimed, 'Because I love you so.'
But Mr. Allonby was not a demonstrative father, and Bobby was learning to control and hide his feelings.
'Well, I promise you, sonny, to call upon you when I do get into trouble,' said Mr. Allonby, with a twinkle in his eye.
And Bobby hugged this promise to his heart and waited in content.
One afternoon True and he were looking out of the sitting-room window very disconsolately. It was raining fast, and Mr. Allonby had that day gone away to see a friend in the country. He was not coming back for two or three days. Margot was in one of her cross moods. She had taken the opportunity to have a thorough clean and turn out of the two bedrooms, and had forbidden the children to leave the sitting-room for the whole afternoon.
'It's like a prison,' said True rebelliously. 'I hate being shut up in one room. Mother never did. I could run in and out all day long. I hate this old London. I should like to be in the country. I'll run away one day if Margot keeps shutting me up.'
'Where will you go?' asked Bobby, with interest.
'I'll go to the railway station and get into a railway train and stay in it till it gets quite to the end of the journey, and then I'd get out.'
'And where would that be?'
True considered.
'The very end of England, I s'pose—near the sea.'
'I've never seen the sea,' said Bobby.
'Fancy! Why we came right through it all the way from 'Merica. I'll ask dad to take us to the seashore one day. He loves a day out, and so do I. I wish he had his motor.'
'Yes,' sighed Bobby, 'we never does nothing nice now, and if it hadn't been for this horrid old rain we'd have gone to tea with Miss Robsart.'
'Well, p'raps she'll ask us to-morrow. Look at that funny old woman, Bobby, she's trying to hold up her umbrella and drag her dog with a string and hold up her dress with the same hand. There! Now look, the dog has got between her legs! Oh, there she goes! Oh, look! she's tumbled right over, and there's a gentleman picking her up!'
Bobby pressed his face against the glass to see the catastrophe. Then he started.
'It—it strikes me that's Master Mortimer.'
'Oh, where? Isn't he your uncle?'
'Yes, it's him! It's him! Oh, True, let's run out and bring him in!'
'Is it the gentleman who picked the old lady up? He's looking across at this house now. He's coming, Bobby, he's coming to see us!'
Bobby rushed to the hall door. He was so excited that he hardly knew if he was on his head or heels, and he literally tumbled down off the doorsteps into his uncle's arms.
'Well, well! This is a welcome! Hold on little man, you'll have me over if you don't take care. Let's come inside and do the affectionate, or we shall be collecting a crowd. Why, who is this?'
'She's True, she's a kind of sister,' explained Bobby, pulling his uncle breathlessly into the sitting-room and shutting the door. 'Oh, we do want you to sit down and talk to us; me and Nobbles is 'normously glad to see you!'
'Ah! where is that young gentleman? I see he looks gayer than ever. Now give an account of yourself and this wonderful father of yours.'
Mr. Mortimer Egerton was taking off his great-coat as he spoke. He stepped out into the narrow hall and hung it up deliberately on the hall pegs there; then he returned to the sitting-room and sat down in the one easy-chair that it possessed, and pulled Bobby in between his knees.
'Let us see what freedom and fatherly care has done for you,' he said. 'Now, then, tell your story. Did your father come to you in the good old style? Is he here now?'
Bobby began to tell his tale very rapidly and eagerly, with shining eyes and burning cheeks. Occasionally True corrected or added to his statements.
Mr. Egerton listened with laughter in his eyes; gravity settled there when he heard of Mrs. Allonby's death; but when he heard of the find of the governess he was enchanted.
'And now,' he said, 'would you like to hear my news? Do you remember Lady Isobel, Bobby?'
'Of course I do. She sended me a beautiful picsher of the gates. She's coming home from India very soon.'
'Very soon, indeed! She arrived yesterday.'
'Oh, Master Mortimer!'
Bobby's rapt tone made his uncle laugh.
'Why does Bobby always call you Master Mortimer? Aren't you his uncle?' enquired True.
'It's a way he has. We understand each other. Well, I'll go on with my news. Lady Isobel thinks it would be very nice to live in the old house, Bobby, where we saw each other first, so we've arranged to live there together.'
'In grandmother's house?' questioned Bobby, with perplexed eyes. 'I don't fink it's a nice house enough for Lady Is'bel.'
'Oh, we'll make it nice; we'll have boys and girls to stay with us to play hide-and-seek with. We'll chase each other round every room.'
'And knock over the big chairs,' cried Bobby, 'and slide the banisters, and make as much noise as ever they likes? Oh, Master Mortimer, will you ask me to spend a day?'
'A good many days after we're settled in.'
'And when will that be?'
'Well, you see, we shall have to get married first, and that takes time. I think you'll have to come to the wedding.'
Bobby's face was a picture of shining joy.
'I finks your news is lovely. Me and Nobbles have never been to a wedding.'
'Will you ask me, too?' asked True.
'Yes, I will. I want to have it very soon, and here in London; but Lady Isobel wants to wait a little. If you persuade her to let me have my way, Bobby, I'll give you seven slices of our wedding cake—one to be taken every day for a week!'
'When shall I see her?'
'I'll bring her to see you to-morrow.'
'How did you find us out?'
'I got your address from your aunt. Any more questions?'
'Do you know Margot?'
'I have not that pleasure.'
Bobby looked at True apprehensively, and True said hastily:
'He's afraid Margot will come in and find you here. She'll be coming in with our tea soon, and she said Miss Robsart was a burglar. Margot thinks everybody is a burglar in London!'
Mr. Egerton got up from his chair, and pretended to be seized with a fit of trembling.
'Can you hide me anywhere? I'm so frightened of her. Tell me if you hear her coming.'
'Oh, let's hide him, True! It will be such fun. I hear her thumping downstairs. Oh, where shall we put him?'
True looked wildly round the room.
'There are no big cupboards. Under the table, quick! Quick, or she'll see you!'
'I'm afraid I couldn't crumple up small enough,' said Mr. Egerton, looking at his long legs and the small round table in front of him.
'Behind the door!' cried Bobby. 'Oh, make haste; she's coming!'
When Margot came into the room three minutes later she said:
'What a noise you children have been making. I thought you must have someone with you; it sounded like a man's voice.'
Bobby's cheeks were scarlet. True began to laugh nervously.
'Give us something very nice for tea, Margot, in case a visitor comes to see us,' she said.
'Why, who would come, you silly children, a wet day like this?'
Margot was producing a white cloth from the chiffonier drawer, and taking out cups and saucers from the cupboard below it.
'And you'll have no visitors whilst your father is away, you may be pretty sure,' Margot continued. 'Give me London for loneliness, I say.'
She went out of the room and down to the kitchen. Bobby and True burst into peals of happy childish laughter.
'You are a good hider; she never saw you.'
'No,' said Mr. Egerton, coming out from behind the door and sitting down in the easy-chair; 'I know how to keep quiet when I'm hiding, but I can't keep it up for long. She'll get you some cake for tea if she sees me, so I won't hide any more.'
Margot's face was a picture when she returned.
'I haven't the pleasure of knowing you, sir!' she said sternly, after a severe scrutiny.
The children kept a breathless silence. They felt that 'Master Mortimer' would be quite equal to Margot. His very coolness inspired them with confidence.
'I'm not a burglar,' he said smiling; 'I'm a genuine relation. Bobby and I are old friends. I'm his mother's brother.'
Margot dropped an old-fashioned curtsy, but she looked rather puzzled; and then Bobby took courage and explained.
'He's my uncle Mortimer, Margot; and he's comed to see me, and we sawed him out of the window and opened the door to him, and then we was afraid you wouldn't like him, so we put him to hide behind the door. And he's come from India, and we're asked to the wedding, and Lady Is'bel will be here to see us tomorrow. Isn't it all puffickly splendid!'
'And we thought you might give us cake for tea, please,' said Mr. Egerton, with twinkling eyes.
'Oh,' whispered True to Bobby, 'he's the most 'licious man I've ever seen!'
And Bobby nodded emphatically to such a statement.
Margot lost her suspicious look when Mr. Egerton turned to her and talked to her. She knew a gentleman when she saw him, and she produced cakes and hot-buttered toast, and smiled as she waited upon the merry little party.
Bobby was in the seventh heaven of delight, and when he went to bed he confided to Nobbles, 'I even feel, Nobbles dear, that I wouldn't mind if me and you wented back to the House, for with Master Mortimer and Lady Is'bel there, we shouldn't have to step on tiptoes any more.'