"I don't mean to have much to do with him though," Bob said decidedly; "I can't—after what's gone by. To-day he seemed as though he wanted to be friendly, but—oh, I couldn't have Tom Smith for a friend!"
"BOBBIE," said Jackie, "I wonder if Mrs. Winter will ask us to tea to-day?"
"I don't know," his brother answered; "I don't expect so."
It was Sunday afternoon, and the boys were returning from Sunday school. They had not been invited to take tea with Mrs. Winter for several weeks. At first Bob had been puzzled to know the reason, but he was beginning to fear that it was because their kind old friend was not in the position to entertain guests. He knew that food had become very expensive, and suspected Mrs. Winter had all she could do to provide necessaries for herself.
"Don't you think she wants to have us?" Jackie inquired wistfully.
"Oh, yes!" Bob assured him, adding quickly, "Don't speak about it to her, Jackie, whatever you do!"
"Why not?" questioned Jackie.
"It might hurt her," Bob replied, sighing.
Jackie looked puzzled, but he said no more. That afternoon the boys had tea with their aunt in the kitchen. Lizzie had gone to her home, which was in Bristol.
During the meal Mrs. Mead remarked—
"I suppose Mrs. Winter's grown tired of your company, as she doesn't ask you to tea with her now. I'm afraid you wore out your welcome."
"Oh, no!" cried Bob. Then, as Mrs. Mead laughed, he flushed and said: "I think she can't afford to have us to tea any longer, Aunt Martha."
Mrs. Mead became serious in a minute.
"I wonder if she can be as poor as that?" she said thoughtfully. "She may be. She had no fire the other day when I went up for her rent, and the weather was bitter. Poor old soul! I know what I'll do; I'll ask her to supper. I owe her something for her kindness to you boys."
So Mrs. Winter was asked to supper, and came—Stray too. Afterwards she sat by the fire for half an hour, and that night she went to bed warm, which she had not done before for several weeks.
The next day, on their return from school in the afternoon, Bob and Jackie learnt that their aunt had had a visitor.
"I never thought to see her again," she said, her face expressive of gratification, "and I was never more surprised in my life than when she threw back her veil—she came in a motor-car—and I recognised Lady Margaret Browning."
"Oh!" cried Bob excitedly. Then he drew a deep sigh of disappointment.
"I'm so sorry Jackie and I weren't here," he said regretfully. "Did she come in, Aunt Martha?"
"That she did, and we had a nice chat together. She'd read about your father in the newspaper, and spoke so nicely about him. I felt proud to think he was my brother. It seems her father has a big house on his estate in Somersetshire, which he's turned into a soldiers' hospital, and she's helping nurse the patients. She's going back there in a few days. But she said she should call again; she's staying with friends at Clifton for a little change, because she's been working too hard nursing."
"Did you tell her about Mrs. Winter; that Mrs. Winter used to be her mother's nurse, I mean?" Bob asked eagerly.
Mrs. Mead shook her head.
"I quite forgot all about the old woman," she admitted, "But, if I'd remembered she wouldn't have been able to see her," she added, "for Mrs. Winter's been out with her dog all the afternoon."
When Mrs. Winter returned Bob went to her attic and told her of Lady Margaret Browning's visit. She would have liked to have had a peep at her, she said, to see if she was like "Miss Peggy"; then she drew Bob's attention to Stray and the collar he was wearing—not his old, shabby one, but another made of strong leather and ornamented with brass studs.
"What a handsome collar!" Bob exclaimed. "Why, it must have cost shillings!"
"I expect it did," Mrs. Winter agreed, "and it's all but new. It's a present. Oh, Bob, I've had such a fright this afternoon! Do you notice that Stray is wet? Well, he's been in the river!"
"Did he fall in?" asked Bob.
Mrs. Winter shook her head.
"Oh, no!" she replied, "he jumped in; but I'll tell you what happened. We'd been for a walk and gone further than I'd meant to, so we came home by the back lane as it was the shorter way. A lot of children were playing in the lane, some of them close to the river. Suddenly I heard a splash and a scream, and some one shouted there was a little girl in the river. Then there was another splash. Stray had seen what had happened, and had gone to the child's rescue!"
"Oh, dear, brave Stray!" Bob cried, putting his arms around the dog, wet though he still was, and hugging him, "And he saved the little girl?"
"Yes. He caught her by her skirt and swam with her to the bank, where I took her from him. She was not hurt in the least, only frightened. Someone had run for her parents, and you can imagine their joy at finding her safe. They could not make enough of Stray, and insisted I should bring him into their house so that they might give him something to eat. Then, whilst Stray was eating a plateful of nice scraps, and the little girl's mother had taken her upstairs to change her clothing, the father left me a minute and returned with this handsome, brass-studded collar, which he said he thought would just fit Stray, and begged me to accept it. I didn't quite like taking it, but he explained that it hadn't been pawned—oh, I forgot to say that the little girl's parents were the people at the pawnshop!"
"Then the little girl is Tom Smith's sister!" exclaimed Bob excitedly.
Mrs. Winter assented.
"Mr. Smith said he'd bought the collar from someone whose dog had died," she continued, "and that I needn't mind taking it, and that he'd feel hurt if I didn't. So then I accepted it, of course, and very glad I am Stray has it. Mr. Smith took off the plate with my name on it from the old collar, and put it on the new one."
"I see," Bob said, examining the collar. "I suppose you didn't see anything of Tom at the Smith's?"
"Yes, he came in whilst I was there, and his father told him what had happened. 'Your sister would have been drowned but for the dog!' he said. Then I told them that I didn't usually go home by the back lane, and I felt sure God had sent me that way to-day, and they must thank Him for sparing them the life they loved. I think they will, Bob."
"I should think so, too!" Bob agreed. He caressed Stray again. "Dear old fellow!" he murmured. "Good, brave, old dog!"
LADY MARGARET BROWNING kept her word and called again. This time she came rather later in the afternoon, shortly before the boys returned from school, and Mrs. Mead remembered to tell her that her mother's old nurse occupied one of the attics.
"Oh, I've heard my father mention her!" she cried; "he was speaking of her only the other day, and wondering if she was still living. My mother loved her ever so dearly. Oh, please, please let me see her!"
So it came about that when the boys arrived home, on going straight upstairs to Mrs. Winter's attic, as they usually did to fetch Stray for a walk before tea, they found Lady Margaret Browning there. She was seated close to Mrs. Winter, and the two were talking of "Miss Peggy." Stray, standing with his head resting on her knee, was looking up into her face approvingly.
"Come in, both of you!" Mrs. Winter said, as the boys stood hesitating in the doorway; and they obeyed, Jackie following his brother shyly.
Lady Margaret rose and shook hands with Bob, then she kissed Jackie, and, seating herself again, drew the little fellow close to her and kept her arm around him whilst she talked to the others.
Jackie stood very still, every now and again glancing up into the sweet, fair face of Mrs. Winter's visitor, which, each time he did so, smiled tenderly at him. So this was the lady who had given Bob so much money in return for her brooch. Yes, she was wearing the brooch now. As his eyes noted it she put up her hand and touched it.
"I've had the fastener made safer," she said to Mrs. Winter. "Oh, I was so delighted to get it back! I shall always feel thankful to Bob for having found it."
"I'm so glad I did," said Bob, adding quickly, "I don't mean because of the reward."
"Aunt Martha's kept all the money!" Jackie stated abruptly.
"She's going to keep it for me till father comes back, then I'm going to give it to him," Bob explained; "but I'd have liked to have spent a little of it. I wanted to give Jackie a toy horse, and Mrs. Winter something."
"I take the will for the deed, Bob," smiled Mrs. Winter.
By-and-bye, Lady Margaret rose to leave, and Bob accompanied her downstairs. Mrs. Mead bustled out of the shop into the passage on hearing them talking. Lady Margaret, who had come on foot, asked if Bob might go with her as far as the street where she meant to take a tram.
"Certainly, my lady," Mrs. Mead replied; "he'll be proud and pleased, I'm sure."
Bob was indeed proud and pleased as he walked along by Lady Margaret's side. She asked him many questions about Mrs. Winter, and he told her all he knew about her, and how wonderfully kind she had been to Jackie and him.
"Aunt Martha didn't understand about Jackie," he explained; "she thought he was naughty because he always cried when she put him to bed. It was not that—he was frightened. But now he isn't frightened any more because Mrs. Winter's taught him Jesus is with him. If it's ever so dark he doesn't cry now."
"Oh, Bob, how glad you must be!" Lady Margaret said earnestly. "I hope Jackie will always remember Jesus is with him. We all need to remember that, don't we, because life is so dark sometimes? Then it is such a comfort to know there is One in the darkness to cling to, and that out weakness may become strength through Him."
They had reached the tramline now, after having passed through several back streets, but there was no tram in sight. Lady Margaret glanced at her watch, then said—
"See, here is a nice toyshop! Tell me what sort of horse you meant to give Jackie, I should like to buy one for him."
"Oh, how kind of you, my lady!" cried Bob. "Oh, thank you, thank you!"
He followed her into the shop. Quickly the purchase was made, wrapped in brown paper, and placed in Bob's arms. By that time a tram was coming, and they had to hurry from the shop. A minute later Bob was standing alone on the pavement, and Lady Margaret Browning had gone.
Jackie was almost overwhelmed with Joy and gratitude when he saw the present Lady Margaret Browning had sent him by his brother.
"Oh, Bobbie!" was all he said at first, but the sight of his glowing face, as he knelt on the kitchen floor examining the toy, told of the feelings he could find no words to express. "Well, now, this is certainly very kind of Lady Margaret," remarked Mrs. Mead, who was standing by; "she must have taken a fancy to you, Jackie. Bob, do you know she thinks your father will have the Military Cross—he's almost sure to, she says."
So it was no great surprise when a few days later news came that the boys' father had indeed won the medal, and many were the warm congratulations Mrs. Mead and her young nephews received.
"Your father deserves it," Tom Smith said to Bob heartily; "I want you to tell me more about him—I like hearing of people who do brave things. I say—" he reddened as he spoke—"I suppose you've heard that Stray saved my little sister from drowning?"
"Yes. And I've seen the collar your father gave him; it's a beauty."
Tom nodded. He was silent a minute, then he said—
"Look here, I told a lie about that ruby brooch, I never saw it till you had it in your hand after you'd picked it up. I'm sorry now I behaved as I did about it. Do you believe me?"
"Yes," Bob answered, much astonished. "Say no more about it!" he added, observing that Tom really looked ashamed of himself.
"All right!" Tom agreed, "I'm sure I don't want to!" He paused hesitatingly, then asked: "Can't we be friends?"
"Perhaps, if you stop bullying and telling lies," Bob replied doubtfully.
"Oh, well," Tom said, his countenance brightening, "I'll see what I can do!"
"OH, Bobbie, look! Oh, quick! look, look!" Jackie clutched his brother's arm as he spoke, and pointed excitedly after a handsome motor brougham which had just passed them, and was now disappearing around a corner of the street. The boys were on their way home from morning school.
"Oh, you didn't see!" the little boy cried, in a tone of disappointment, "and Stray was looking out of the window, too! Oh, I wonder if he saw us? And Mrs. Winter!"
"You don't mean to say that Mrs. Winter and Stray are in that beautiful motor-car?" cried Bob incredulously. "Haven't you made a mistake, Jackie?"
"Oh, no, I haven't!" Jackie protested. "Oh, I do wish you'd seen them! Where can they be going?"
"Let's hurry home and find out."
Arrived at home they went direct to the kitchen, and questioned Lizzie. The girl was looking pleased and excited.
"Oh, so you met the car!" she said; "it belongs to some grand folks living on Clifton Down, friends of Lady Margaret Browning's."
"The friends she's staying with?" inquired Bob.
Lizzie nodded. "The chauffeur brought a note for Mrs. Winter, and said he was to wait," the explained, "I took the note up to her and waited while she read it. It put her in a bit of a fluster. She told me Lady Margaret Browning wanted her to spend the day with her and bring Stray with her, and the car had been sent to fetch them. So she's gone, and Stray too—looking just as though he'd been used to ride in a car all his life! Now, you may depend something will come of this. Missus will soon be losing her attic lodger, I expect."
"Why should you think that?" asked Bob quickly.
"Never you mind!" replied Lizzie, mysteriously. "If I'm right we all ought to be glad, so don't you begin to pull a long face. Mrs. Winter's been very poor, but I'm beginning to hope she's seen her poorest days. We shall see!"
When the boys met their aunt at dinner they found that she, too, expected to lose her attic lodger before long.
"I shall be sorry when she goes," she remarked, "for she's paid her rent regularly and been kind to you boys. A real good woman she is, and I wish her well."
The shop was closed, and Jackie was in bed and asleep that night before Mrs. Winter and Stray came home. They returned in the motor brougham, and were met by Mrs. Mead in the passage.
"Come into the kitchen and have a warm by the fire before you go upstairs, Mrs. Winter," she said. "I hope you have spent a pleasant day."
"Yes, thank you," Mrs. Winter answered; "a very pleasant day."
She took the chair Mrs. Mead offered her by the fire, whilst Stray went to Bob, who put an arm around his neck and hugged him.
"I've missed you, old chap!" the boy whispered. "Was he good, Mrs. Winter?" he asked.
"As good as gold!" Mrs. Winter replied. "Oh, I've had such a happy time with Lady Margaret and her father!" she continued; "her father came last night to fetch her home. They made so much of me—treated me quite like a friend! If only Miss Peggy had been there, but—oh, God knows best! And Lady Margaret's so like her mother! I told her father so—he liked hearing it. I couldn't think of him as a great nobleman! To me he will always be just Miss Peggy's husband!"
She paused a minute, smiling, then went on—
"Oh, he was wonderfully kind! He had a long talk with me alone, and said he was sorry to hear I was not very well off; and then he offered me a cottage, rent free, on his estate in Somersetshire, and the wherewithal to live there—"
"Oh, dear!" broke in Bob. "Oh, I know I ought to be glad, but—oh, I suppose I'm dreadfully selfish! I don't want you to go away!"
"You'd like to keep me here?" Mrs. Winter asked eagerly. "Oh, my dear!" she exclaimed as he nodded, "how sweet it is to think that!— to know I should be missed if I went!"
"If?" said Mrs. Mead inquiringly. "I suppose there's no doubt about it? Of course you're going?"
Mrs. Winter shook her head.
"No," she said. "No. I told Miss Peggy's husband I was too old to live in a cottage alone, and that I liked to be where other people—especially young people—were about, and that I'd become quite attached to my attic home. I said I wished to remain here, and if he'd be so generous as to help me with a little money, I should have nothing in the world left to wish for. And that's what he's going to do. I've explained all this because you've been so kind, Mrs. Mead—"
"Kind? Me?" interrupted Mrs. Mead in astonishment. "What have I done?"
"Helped me feed Stray for one thing," Mrs. Winter replied, "and let me come here sometimes and warm myself when I've had no fire upstairs for another. I wouldn't wish a better landlady than you."
"And I'm sure I wouldn't wish a better lodger than you!" said Mrs. Mead heartily; "I doubt if you're doing the best for yourself, but I'm very glad you're going to stay on. But a dear little cottage in the country all to yourself! Have you considered—"
"I've considered everything!" Mrs. Winter interposed, her bright, dark eyes shining happily; "and I'm sure I've decided for the best."
Bob said nothing; but he drew a deep sigh of intense relief, and by-and-bye slipped upstairs to tell Jackie, if he should be awake, that there was no fear of Mrs. Winter's going away. But Jackie was sleeping peacefully, so he did not disturb him, and went to bed too.
Both boys were asleep when some while later Mrs. Winter, carrying a lighted candle, opened the door noiselessly and peeped into the room. She tip-toed to the bed, and stood for a minute or two looking tenderly and lovingly at the sleepers, whilst she breathed a hope, which was actually a prayer, that God would permit her to continue to care for them until their father came home.
THE END.