"Oh, poor Susy! I wish I was going to stay in London."
"If dad dies," said Susy, struggling with her tears, "I shan't have no one to live for at all."
"But we'll ask God to make him well again."
"Yes," said Susy doubtfully; "but perhaps God don't want to. I'm afraid dad will be a terrible trial to God, for he'll want so much lookin' after, 'specially in London. If I gets him past four or five publics, there's more comin' on, the streets seem crammed wi' 'em. And God were makin' dad good, He really were. He giv' up the drink for a whole week and never thrashed me once. He cried one night and said he did want to be like mother, an' he knelt down and prayed along wi' me! I'm afraid God be awful disappinted wi' 'im. But it warn't his fault, that pal o' his took him right off and made him worse than ever. I do wish you were goin' to stay here, Miss Tina!"
"But you'll have friends, Susy. Such a nice old gentleman is coming to see you; he told me he would. You won't be left alone."
Susy nodded.
"I be all right, 'tis dad that I keeps thinkin' of. Since you learned me about prayin' to God, it don't seem half so lonesome, as I tells Him everythink, and I feels He'll manage things fur me!"
The ten minutes came to an end too soon.
Christina pressed into Susy's hand a story book, two oranges and a piece of cake.
"I have no money to give you, because I spent all I had on Miss Bertha's present; but you won't starve, Susy, will you?"
"'Tisn't money troubles me," said Susy wistfully; "'tis poor dad. I does want 'im to get well and be a good man. And I've got my box with all my bits to make a 'ouse nice, and we shan't never have a 'ouse if dad don't get no better!"
The children parted, and Christina was now anxious to get home to tell Miss Bertha all about her little friend.
Dawn appeared at the station to see them off.
"We're coming down at Easter, and then we'll have a ripping time!" he informed them. "You ought to have come to London before; we haven't had time to do half what we could have done!"
"I wonder that child is allowed to go about alone so," said Mrs. Maclahan to her husband, as the train moved off, and Dawn stood on the platform waving his cap and looking the picture of health and beauty. "I hold with boys being independent, but he seems to go everywhere, and do exactly as he likes!"
"Yes," said Puggy; "his father is an awfully sensible chap. And Dawn says he can't stand not being free, he would die right off, and I believe he would!"
"Boys aren't so easily killed," his sister said with a laugh. "Dawn has a thorough Irish upbringing. I'm not sure that it isn't better in the long end!"
"Dawn's father says that Ireland makes happy people, England makes plucky people and Scotland sanctimonious people! And Dawn is always happy, and I am always plucky, and Tina is always sanctimonious!"
"Mr. O'Flagherty didn't say that!" objected Christina.
"No, I say it," said Puggy.
Their elders were not listening to them. For the rest of the journey Christina and Puggy carried on an animated discussion upon the characteristics of the United Kingdom, but Christina was worsted, as she always was, and she subsided into silence after a parting shot:
"Anyhow you're not plucky when you beg me not to tell people what mischief you've been doing. If you were really plucky, you would tell yourself!"
SUSY IN SERVICE
"DO put it on, dear Miss Bertha; we're longing to see you in it!"
Puggy and Christina were in Miss Bertha's tiny drawing-room. A bandbox was on the floor, and Miss Bertha stood before them, holding up the wonderful red bonnet in her hand.
A piece of paper was attached to it, on which was written in Puggy's best handwriting:
"With love, from the United Kingdom."
Her face was a curious mixture of astonishment, pleasure, and—if I must say it—of horror, as she looked from the bonnet to the two excited children.
"Did you really buy this for me in London? A real London bonnet! How very, very kind of you, dears!"
"It was Blanche and Dawn who thought of it," said Christina; "and we all chose it; we chose the very best!"
"Yes," put in Puggy; "and we knew you would like a cheerful kind of colour, and you'll look tiptop next Sunday in church. You'll promise us faithfully to wear it, won't you? We got into rather a fix over it; but it's all right now, and we're to write a long letter to Dawn to tell him how you look. Do try it on now!"
"I'm only afraid, dears, that it is too grand for me," said poor Miss Bertha. "Yes, I will go upstairs and try it on certainly!"
She was gone some minutes, and when she came back with the startling erection on the top of her sweet grey hair, she looked as if she were just going to sit down in the dentist's chair and have two of her front teeth out.
But the children were delighted, except that Christina said:
"I have never seen you look so grand before. You look quite different somehow."
"She looks stunning!" said Puggy. "And we'll write at once and tell Dawn so! Come on, Tina."
"But I must wait and tell Miss Bertha about Susy," said Christina.
Then Miss Bertha slipped out of the room again. She had a few words with her servant Lucy as she wrapped the bonnet in silver paper and put it in one of her drawers.
"I wouldn't hurt their little feelings for the world, Lucy, but I shall pray that next Sunday may be a wet day. It will be the only loophole for me. I would not be so wicked as to wish for the death of any of my distant relatives, but if I could go into mourning for any other cause, how grateful I should be!"
Then she put on her cap again, and went down to Christina, who poured into her ears all she had seen and done in London, and told her of Susy's plight.
Miss Bertha listened with her usual cheery sympathy. She was very interested about the Bollands, and told Christina that years ago a school-friend of hers had married an artist named Bolland.
"I should not wonder a bit if it were the same man. If he will look after Susy, you need not trouble, Childie. Do you see how God guides in every bit of life? If you had gone off to the Zoo that day instead of to see those old people, you would never have heard about Susy. It really seems as if we are to help that child. She is a dear little girl, and Lucy was only saying to me, after she had left the village, that she would so like to have her and train her up as a little servant. Perhaps, if her poor father dies, we may be able to manage that."
"Oh!" cried Christina in a fervour of delight, "How lovely, Miss Bertha! Would you really have her in your house as your little servant? And I could come and see her sometimes. Oh! How I wish it could come true!"
"We must not wish her father to die. What a good thing it is for us that our loving Father arranges our lives for us, otherwise how many mistakes we should make! You will hear soon, I expect, from her."
Two days afterwards Christina did hear. Mr. Bolland wrote to her to tell her that Susy's father had died in hospital; he said he was going to look after Susy till something could be arranged for her. Directly Miss Bertha heard this she determined to go up to London herself and bring Susy back with her, and in correspondence with Mr. Bolland, she discovered that his wife was indeed her old school-friend. They insisted that she should stay with them for a few days, and Miss Bertha thankfully agreed. She did not move about much, and a visit to London was a great event to her. She had a horror of hotels and strange lodgings, so this invitation greatly eased her mind.
Puggy and Christina were both disappointed to find that she was going up to London on the Saturday; but Christina was too much concerned about Susy to mind much that they would not see Miss Bertha wear their gift.
"I'm back at school on Monday," said Puggy, as he wished Miss Bertha good-bye at the station.
The two children had been allowed to ride down to the station on their ponies to see her off. "But I do think you might have worn your bonnet up to London. I shan't get a chance of seeing you in it till the Easter holidays!"
"I should have spoilt it in the train," said Miss Bertha, looking a little uncomfortable; "but I shall always value it, Puggy. It is the loving gift of three dear little friends of mine."
"And will you go to see Dawn?" asked Puggy. "And tell him if he doesn't cut off those curls of his before Easter, I'll do it myself the first day I see him!"
"Oh no," said Miss Bertha. "Dawn is just his quaint little self with his curls. He never will be like other boys, and we would not wish him to be so. I will see him if I can, but I must make no promises."
"Good-bye, dear Miss Bertha," said Christina; "and give Susy my love, and tell her I'm longing to see her."
The train went off, and the children turned homewards.
"I wish my school was in London," said Puggy. "Dawn seems to have all the fun in life and I have the grind."
"I don't like London," said Christina emphatically. "It's too crowded with people, and I don't think Miss Bertha likes it any better than I do! But I'm so glad she's going up to Susy. If I was left alone in London as Susy is, there is nobody I should like better than Miss Bertha to come up to me."
"You ought to like your father best."
Christina considered.
"Yes, I like him best, of course; but I couldn't tell him things that I could Miss Bertha. She always knows what you feel like inside, other people tell you what you ought to feel like, and I never feel what I ought."
"I never think of feelings at all," said Puggy a little scornfully; "that's just like a girl!"
Miss Bertha remained away a week. When she returned with Susy, Christina was hard at work, learning lessons with Miss Loder.
But the first day she was allowed, she went over to Miss Bertha; and Susy opened the door to her in a black frock and white apron.
"Oh, Miss Christina, I've been through such a time; oh dear, oh dear!"
And Susy began to cry.
Christina tried to comfort her, and then heard about her father's last illness.
"He were so good an' patient," said Susy, "an' so wonderful sorry for all 'e'd been an' done. He seemed to lie in bed an' think of all 'e'd done when he were in drink. He told me to teach of 'im to pray to God, an' I learned 'im what you learned me, how Jesus died on the Cross for his sins, and poor dad were just broken 'earted.
"'I've bin a bad father to you, my poor gel,' he says.
"An' I says, 'No, dad, not when you were out o' drink.'
"An' 'e says to me the last night afore he died: 'I'm askin' to be forgiven my sins all the time along, do 'ee think I shall be 'eared?'
"An' I says, 'Sure to be, dad, 'cause the Bible says so'; an I readed 'im a tex' off the 'orsepital wall,—
"'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow;—'
"An' then he puts his 'ead down on the piller with a groan, 'Ay, Lord, ha' mercy; Lord, ha' mercy!'
"An' nurse told me 'e never spoke no more!"
"Oh," said Christina, mingling her tears with Susy's, "do let's come to Miss Bertha; she will make us feel happy."
And so Miss Bertha did. She talked to them both about the beautiful home above, and how sinful men and women were received there for the sake of their Saviour. She pictured the meeting between Susy's father and mother, and how glad her mother would be to hear about her little daughter. And then changing the subject, she sent them both out to the kitchen to help Lucy make some hot cakes for tea. Later on she told Christina about her visit to the Bollands.
"My dear old friend was so glad to have me with her, and I think I was able to cheer her up a little. She said you had comforted her so much, Childie, by giving her your verse to think of. I was so glad to hear it."
"I wonder," said Christina reflectively, "if I am getting braver. I don't think I am quite so frightened now as I used to be. I'm not frightened of my pony; I like riding him. But I'm always afraid of what may come to me."
"When it comes, Childie, you know who will keep fear away from you."
And Christina smiled, for she had proved the truth of her text.
Susy settled down wonderfully soon in Miss Bertha's small establishment. At times she had restive fits on, and then Miss Bertha would send her out of doors, either to take a message to Christina, to shop in the village, or to weed the garden. She was very docile and obedient, and took the keenest interest in all housework.
"I always mean to have a little house of my own one day," she confided to Lucy; "and p'r'aps, as I shan't have no dad to look after, I shall be able to get a husband!"
Lucy, being an old-fashioned soul, was quite shocked.
"In my young days, such things was never mentioned to children like you!" she said.
"Ah, well," said Susy with an old-fashioned air, "I've travelled a lot, an' heerd tell a deal more than most. I knows husban's need a lot o' care an' patience, but they be needful if you has a house, and women are born to take care o' people, ain't they? You an' me takes care o' Miss Bertha, and Miss Bertha takes care o' nearly all the village: they told me so, that time I stopped along wi' dad at the Red Bull."
"You might be fifty to hear you talk," said Lucy, and Susy subsided into silence.
Occasionally, when the turret room wanted cleaning out, Christina was allowed to borrow Susy for the day; and the two little girls had a grand time together, Christina enjoying the scrubbing and cleaning quite as much as Susy. Eventually they used that room a good deal, and whenever it was wet, and Christina was shut up in the house, Miss Bertha would send Susy over to her, and the two would retire to the turret room, where they talked a great deal, and mutually helped one another, Christina with her superior book knowledge, and Susy with her wider experience and unselfish views of life. Neither Mrs. Maclahan or Miss Loder objected to the friendship now. Susy was slowly winning her way with every one, and Lucy's training added to Miss Bertha's kind supervision was turning her into a capital little servant.
"I don't miss the boys half so much since Susy has come," Christina informed Miss Bertha one day. "You see, I can't have very grave talks with Puggy and Dawn; Puggy always laughs at me, and Dawn won't listen, he begins to talk himself. But Susy understands things much better. She says boys and men don't think like women and girls."
Miss Bertha laughed.
"Susy is a little cynic sometimes, though she doesn't know it."
"I had a letter from Dawn this morning," Christina went on. "He asked me if you had worn your bonnet yet?"
A faint colour came into Miss Bertha's cheeks.
"It is a little bit heavy," she confessed. "I think I must keep it till next winter, Childie. The mild bright weather is coming on, and I get headaches if I have too much weight on my head."
Christina assented innocently; and the Christmas bonnet as yet had never been worn.
Time slipped by, and soon the Easter holidays came round.
Dawn and his father appeared first, and took possession of their country cottage again.
When Puggy arrived, Dawn came over to the Towers and spent a long day there, and it was in the turret room that Susy was brought under discussion.
"We're not going to have her here in the holidays," announced Puggy; "we don't want to see her, or hear anything about her. She's nothing to do with us."
"She has a good deal to do with me," said Christina warmly; "and if you don't like to have her here, I shall go to Miss Bertha's to see her."
"All right, you can; but you'll have to be here when I want you, because you belong to me."
This statement of Puggy's always annoyed Christina.
"I'd rather belong to Dawn than to you," she said.
"But you can't. Scotland is joined on to England, and England comes first. I'm the most important one."
"I wonder what Susy is," said Christina. "She isn't Scotch I'm afraid."
"She doesn't belong to the United Kingdom," said Puggy with decision.
"She must be one of us. I think she's English," said Christina.
"No she isn't. I won't own her," snapped Puggy.
"I'll tell you! We'll make her Wales," said Dawn; "and then she won't be on any side particular. And we won't think of her at all."
So Susy was made into a Welshwoman, and though Christina suggested that Wales was joined to England, Puggy would not listen, and for the time Susy's visits to the Towers were discontinued.
"I've got a most splendid game in my head," announced Dawn one morning. He always appeared after breakfast, ready for any amount of fun.
"What is it? We want a fresh game."
"It's a kind of civil war," explained Dawn. "Yesterday evening I went out on the village green when the boys were playing cricket, and they said they would join us. I'm going to rise up against Great Britain, and I'll get the better of you both."
"Hurrah!" cried Puggy. "And we'll have followers; I'll go down to the village and get some."
"Wait a minute. I've bagged the Murphy boys because they're Irish, and the Greens' mother came from Ireland, so they belong to me. I thought we'd prepare to-day, and have a regular fight to-morrow all over the woods and lanes. I'll have a force, and you'll have a force, and we'll choose our men to-day."
"But I can't fight," said Christina anxiously.
The boys considered.
"Well," said Puggy, a flash of inspiration seizing him, "you must be my wife and stay in the turret room, and Dawn and his rebel soldiers will come to attack it, and you must prevent them getting in."
"I can lock the door," said Christina comfortably.
"No, you mustn't do that, for he'll never be able to get in."
"But I shan't want him to."
"Oh, but I shall come and carry you off, and Puggy will come after us and rescue you. It will be scrumptious!"
"I don't think father will like the village boys all coming into the house and up the back stairs," said Christina.
"The Squire and Ena are going out for the day to-morrow," observed Puggy.
"So we won't tell them till they come back," said Dawn. "That's always best. Dad says he's often glad he doesn't know the mischief I'm in till it's over, so I always try to keep him from being anxious!"
"But that isn't quite true!" objected Christina.
The boys looked at each other.
"I don't believe Ena would mind at all," said Puggy. "She isn't a bit strict. I'll go and ask her."
This was done. Mrs. Maclahan laughed, told them to confine their warfare to the turret tower, and gave them the desired permission.
Christina was not sure whether she liked the prospect in front of her or not.
"Am I to stay in the turret all the day?" she asked.
"I'll come and attack it pretty soon," Dawn assured her; "but we've got to pitch our camps first."
"And must I be quite alone? I'm sure a soldier's wife would have some servants."
"You can have Susy if you like."
Then Christina's face grew radiant. She went off to Miss Bertha's as soon as she could, and got permission for Susy to come to her the first thing the next morning. And though Puggy took away the key of the turret room, and told her she would have to barricade it, she did not feel a tremor of fear. With Susy she could do and dare all things.
"IT IS ONLY THE SELFISH WHO ARE COWARDS"
"AND now, Susy, we shall have to wait."
"Yes, but we can watch out of the window, and we won't let a single boy up the stairs. I don't mean you to be taken a prisoner, Miss Tina."
The fun had begun. Being Saturday, the village boys were only too delighted to join the forces of the two leaders. Dawn had borrowed Christina's pony, and one of the Murphys was his standard bearer, and carried the green flag which was eventually to fly triumphantly out of the turret window, when the Union Jack that was waving there now had been captured.
Puggy was flying the Royal Standard, and he rode on his own pony at the head of his followers. Christina and Susy watched Puggy march down the drive, and from their window they saw in the woods Dawn's force gathered round him. About eleven o'clock Puggy cantered up the drive, and behind him ran two of his followers, guarding carefully two small Murphy boys who had been taken prisoners. Their arms were bound with rope. Puggy came triumphantly to the bottom of the turret stairs, and Christina and Susy ran down to meet him.
"A victory! A thousand dead! And two Irish barons prisoners!" shouted Puggy excitedly. Then he put his prisoners in a housemaid's cupboard at the bottom of the stairs.
"Guard them well!" he cried. "I've locked them in, and you keep the key. Now I'm going to return to the fight. Another battle is coming off at one o'clock!"
"But aren't you coming home to dinner?" asked Christina.
"Do soldiers ever think of dinner? But after it's over, we've got provisions, I can tell you; for Dawn's cook gave him a big basket, and we're going to capture it."
The boys disappeared.
"I think," said Susy, "I'll go down to your cook and ask her to give me some food, and I'll steal out to the woods, and take 'em to the soldiers. I'll say my mistress the countess sent me!"
"That will be lovely," said Christina; "but you mustn't take dinner to the wrong soldiers."
"I knows better than that! I can hear Master Puggy's voice a mile off."
"And you won't be away very long?"
"I'll be as quick as I can."
Cook was in a good temper. She packed up a basket and gave it to Susy, and Christina saw her running down the drive with it.
But she was away a long time, and when she came back was flushed with excitement.
"Oh! It's first-rate, Miss Tina; 'tis just like real battle. I was nearly ketched by Master Dawn's soldiers; they chased me, but I hid in the bushes, and they couldn't find me nowheres. They called out that I was a spy, but I nipped round and laid the basket at Master Puggy's feet. He was awful pleased. And then comin' back I had another race past Master Dawn hisself. He is in one part of the wood, and Master Puggy is in the other, and Master Dawn have got six prisoners!"
"Susy, those two poor little boys ought to have some dinner. I've been thinking about them. They oughtn't to be locked up in that cupboard so long. I shouldn't like it."
"I'll take them some dinner. Are we going to have ours up here?"
"Yes, Puggy said we were to, and you must fetch it, Susy, from the kitchen; for we're not to let any of the maids come near us, the boys said."
So when Susy brought the dinner up, she took a good share of it down to the cupboard, and when she carefully opened it, she found one of the little boys crying.
"I wants my mother! I wants to go home! I wants my arms untied!"
"You must stay here till Master Dawn comes to let you out," said Susy sternly. Then her heart relented, for the smallest boy was only seven years old.
"Will you promise to stay here quiet if I unties your arms?" she asked.
The promise was promptly given, so she untied the rope, and the two plates of meat and pudding looked so appetising that the prisoners were more than half consoled. Susy locked the door upon them, and came upstairs to Christina.
"It won't be very long afore you is taken prisoner now," she said to Christina, "and when you goes, I shall go along with Master Puggy and fight with the boys."
"I would much rather be taken prisoner than fight," said Christina. "I do hope the boys aren't really hurting each other. It's only play, isn't it?"
"I think they're using sticks a bit," confessed Susy.
And then Christina was seized with terror for their safety, and Susy had to assure her that boys didn't mind a few whacks occasionally.
About three o'clock, Susy, from the window, called out excitedly:
"The soldiers are coming! And Master Dawn at the head of them!"
A qualm of fear seized Christina, but she valiantly helped Susy to barricade the door with furniture. They heard the boys clamping up the stairs, then the shouts of the prisoners to be let loose, and the yell of triumph when the cupboard was unlocked, for the key had been left in the lock outside. Tramp, tramp, tramp up the stairs came the boys. It did not take many minutes to burst the door open, but Susy seized a can of water and deluged two boys with it before she let them approach her. Dawn seized hold of Christina with delight.
"Haul down the flag, fly our colours! The emerald isle for ever!"
Susy was too quick for them; she seized hold of the green flag and tore down stairs with it; two boys pursued her, but she outran them, and finally reached Puggy's camp in safety.
Meanwhile Christina was being marched downstairs by Dawn.
"You'll have to ride the pony, and I'll get up behind you," he announced.
His curls were flying in the wind, his cheeks flushed; he had the air of a conqueror!
"I don't think both of us can ride my pony," objected Christina shrinking back, as she was being hoisted up to the saddle.
"Prisoners are not allowed to speak!" said Dawn in a masterful way.
Poor Christina did not enjoy her ride. To begin with, she was obliged to ride astride, as it was a boy's saddle that had been put on her pony; then Dawn was clutching the reins, and making the pony gallop. If Christina had not learnt to ride by this time and to ride fairly well, she would not have been able to keep her seat.
"Don't go quite so fast!" she pleaded, but she might just as well have spoken to the wind.
Dawn's blood was up, and he cared for nothing and nobody.
Presently he looked behind him, and whipped up the pony afresh.
"They're pursuing us. Now we'll have a mad race!"
He galloped up a country lane, then across a bit of wild common, and then was stopped by the river.
"We'll swim across," he said. "Once on the other side we'll be safe!"
Christina besought him not to venture. "We shall be drowned!" she cried. "Oh, Dawn, do stop; it's only a game!"
But Dawn only thought of Puggy behind him. He looked round, and to his delight saw that there was a pause amongst his pursuers. Something had happened to Puggy's pony. He had dismounted, handed it to one of the village boys, and was tearing along on foot with his followers.
"We must go through the river. They won't come after us there, and we shall be quite safe the other side. Don't be a funk, Tina; we'll ride along a little further. There! A cart has been over here, I see the mark of the wheels; it must be the ford!"
He pushed the pony down to the water. Christina shivered and shuddered. Her fears almost overwhelmed her. "Can I pray to God when it's only a game?" she asked herself, and habit made her repeat her text.
The pony did his best, but his footing was very insecure; he stopped mid-stream and refused to go any further. The current was strong; Dawn leant over Christina to whip him on, then overbalanced himself and fell head foremost into the river. With a start the pony turned back and reached the shore in safety, but Dawn cried out sharply:
"Help, Tina, help! I've hurt my leg. I can't swim!"
To the little girl's horror, she saw him swept down by the current. In an instant she was off her pony and running along the bank. It seemed as if quick sight was given to her. She saw a shallow part of the river a little distance off, with a large rock in the middle of it. It flashed across her that if she could get there first, she could catch hold of Dawn as he came past.
No fear now was in her heart, Dawn and only Dawn filled her thoughts. She ran as she had never run before; she dashed into the water and reached the rock, and an instant after had clutched hold of Dawn by his long hair as he was being whirled along.
He was not unconscious, and struggled up to the rock, but when he was safely there fainted away.
Then Christina called for help, and in a few minutes the village boys reached them and assisted them across to the bank.
But Dawn lay still and white, and Puggy cried out frantically: "He's drowned! He's dead!"
A farmer driving by saw that an accident had happened, and came up to the children. He whipped out a flask from his pocket, and made Dawn swallow some of it.
"Bless your hearts!" he cried cheerfully. "He's all right. 'Tis only a bit o' faint. I knows the young gent and I'll drive him straight home. Any more hurt?"
His eye fell on Christina. She was wet up to her waist, and, now the danger was past, was shivering with fright and cold.
"I think you'd best come along too!" he said, and he lifted her into his cart.
"I'll take the ponies home, and then come to the cottage for you, Tina," said Puggy, who was recovering himself.
Christina could not speak.
When Miss Rachael received the two children, Dawn seemed in a better plight than his rescuer. He could give explanation, which Christina could not.
"I've sprained my knee against a stone. I couldn't swim," he said, "and Tina pulled me out of the water when I was drowning!"
Miss Rachael did the wisest thing she could. She put both children to bed and kept them there, sending a message to the Towers to say that she was keeping Christina for the night. The civil war came to an end. Puggy felt very ill used, because he had not been nearly drowned too.
Susy went back to Miss Bertha and told her all that happened, and Miss Bertha could not rest that night until she had been to inquire after her little friends. She met Mr. Maclahan at the door. He was coming away.
"I have just been up to see my little daughter," he said. "I am thankful she is all right. Miss Bertha, what do you think of her? A more extraordinary mixture of pluck and timidity, of childishness and wisdom, I have never come across! That boy in there owes his life to her!"
Miss Bertha nodded, well pleased. "I am not surprised," she said simply.
And then she went indoors, and Christina, looking at her sleepily from Miss Rachael's big feather-bed, drew her down to her and put her arms round her neck.
"I got wet, and Miss Rachael has given me something hot to drink, and I'm going to sleep here all night, and—and, Miss Bertha—the civil war is over!"
* * * * *
It was a tea-party at Miss Bertha's. Puggy and Dawn and Christina were all there, and they were busy telling her about the lovely game they had played before the catastrophe occurred.
"And if I hadn't tumbled in the river, I would have won," said Dawn, "because I was riding away with my enemy's wife."
"No," said Puggy, "I was coming after you as hard as I could. You wouldn't have escaped me, and if Tina had played the game properly, she would have ridden back to me directly you fell off the pony!"
"But," said Christina, with big eyes, "Dawn was drowning!"
"Tina is so funny," said Dawn with a little chuckle. "She funked the river awfully when we went through it first, and then—"
"Then she proved herself a little heroine," said Miss Bertha.
"I was just too late," said Puggy. "It's a pity I wasn't there a minute sooner! My schoolmaster has a saying:
"'Opportunity makes the hero.'
"So Tina was the lucky one! I didn't have a chance."
"You wouldn't have been as brave as Tina, if you had saved Dawn," said Miss Bertha, "for you would have had no fears to overcome."
"I wasn't brave," confessed Christina, "only there was no time to stop to think."
"We will never say you're afraid again," said Dawn, looking at her gravely. "I'm not sure that I quite like being pulled out of the water by a girl; but I wasn't quite helpless, I helped to get myself out."
"And you were saved by your curls," said Puggy, a little scoffingly. "Tina hauled you up by your hair! Why does Tina always do the things I wonder!"
"Because," said Miss Bertha with much emphasis, "Tina always thinks of others before herself. An unselfish person is always brave in an emergency. It is only the selfish who are cowards."
"Then you really think I'm not a coward?" questioned Christina with anxious eyes.
"I am quite sure you are not," said Miss Bertha.
And the boys began to sing a piece of doggerel that they had invented themselves:
"United Kingdom we,As brave as brave can be,We all hold togetherIn fine and stormy weather.And if we have to fight,We do it with our might;So three cheers for three,United Kingdom we!"
In the kitchen Susy, hearing the song, said to Lucy:
"If Master Puggy and Master Dawn are brave, they never do the brave things that Miss Tina does. They're always talking and singing about it, but Miss Tina does it without any talk. And I know which of them I'd like to be!"
Lucy smiled and said nothing; but in her heart she agreed with Susy.
That same evening Mr. Maclahan was walking with his little girl round the picture gallery at the Towers. He often went up there after dinner to smoke a cigarette, and if Christina were not already in bed, she would slip out of the schoolroom and join him. She was never tired of hearing stories about her ancestors, and would gaze wistfully at their stern proud faces, as she would ask:
"And do you think I shall grow up like them, father?"
Mr. Maclahan's mind was full of what his little girl had done. He stopped suddenly, and putting his hand under her chin turned her small face up to him.
"You have the right spirit, little woman, in spite of your size. How do you manage it? Has fear by this time departed from you?"
Christina shook her head solemnly.
"I am afraid I shall always be afraid, father; but I think my text will keep me from being a coward. And if I can't say, 'Fear dwells not here,' don't you think my text will do as well:
"'What time I am afraid, I will trust in Thee'?"
Her father, looking down upon her, said with deep feeling in his tone:
"God's words are best, Christina. If you keep to them, you will never need our motto to remind you to be brave."
FINIS
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