A JOYFUL HOME-COMING
"THIS is winter at last!" said Miss Warren, as she stood at the
sitting-room window on the afternoon subsequent to Ruth and Dick's
boating experience, and looked out on the driving rain which was
flooding the gutters in the deserted street. "I thought this morning
the weather was going to change again; one seldom has two days
following as fine as yesterday, at this time of the year."
Dick, who had been sitting by the fire, gazing thoughtfully into the
glowing coals, jumped up from his chair, and ran to the window to
look out.
"I had no idea it was raining like this!" he exclaimed. "Oh, Aunt
Mary Ann, I wonder if grandfather has found out yet whether it was
really the secret passage we discovered? We told him about it last
night, and he said he'd see to it! I do think he's much nicer and
better-tempered than he used to be!"
"I believe you gave him a terrible fright," Miss Warren said gravely.
"I believe we did," Dick answered, "but we did not mean to! I told
him how sorry we were, and—I suppose we were very foolish—it was
all on account of Ruth's losing her oar! And if it had not been for
dear old Nero, grandfather would never have seen us at all!"
"How was that?" Miss Warren enquired. "I thought Sir Richard saw you
from the cliff path?"
"Yes; he told us all about it as the fishermen rowed us home. Aunt
Arabella was worried because she did not know where Ruth had gone,
and grandfather remembered what she had told them about the donkey at
luncheon, and thought perhaps she had gone to try and ride Neddy
again. So he went to look for her; and when he found she wasn't with
the donkey he walked a little way on the cliff path till he heard a
dog howling. He felt quite certain it was Nero, because he knew his
voice, so he looked over the cliffs, and saw us in the boat drifting
out to sea. Then he hurried down to the village, got a boat, and
found us!" —Dick concluded, with a sob at the remembrance of the
terrible position he and his little cousin had been in.
"Oh, Dick!" Miss Warren cried, "I shudder to think of what might have
been! Thank God I did not know of your danger!"
"You went to look for me, didn't you, Aunt Mary Ann?"
"Yes, my dear, when it became quite dark and you had not come home
I naturally grew anxious. I made enquiries for you in the village
first, and by the time I reached the beach you were on the point of
landing. Sir Richard asked me not to scold you, and I gave him my
word I would not. I hope you will never be so foolhardy again!"
"I never will! Poor old Nero! How glad he was to see us! Did you see
him on the beach waiting for us, Aunt Mary Ann? Oh, here comes the
gig!"
"Theophilus will be in good time for tea," said Miss Warren, as she
turned from the window and bustled into the hall to meet her brother.
She assisted him to remove his dripping overcoat, and then followed
him into the sitting-room, shook up the cushions of his favourite
easy-chair, and poked the coals into a blaze.
"Well, Dick," the doctor said as he sat down, and extended his
chilled hands to the fire, "you look none the worse for your
experience of yesterday. So you and that mischievous young cousin
of yours actually did find the secret passage, it seems."
"What!" cried Dick. "Do you mean it, Uncle Theophilus? How do you
know?"
"I will explain. I thought I would call at the Manor House to satisfy
myself that Lionel continues to progress as he should, and to enquire
for your companion in misfortune, Dick."
"Ah, how is the poor little girl?" Miss Warren interposed.
"As lively as a cricket. I found Sir Richard had been absent all the
morning, and had only then returned; he greeted me with the news that
the secret passage had been found, and that, in company with several
fishermen and Groves, he had traversed the distance from the spot
where the east cliff once stood to the Manor House, underground."
"Is it possible?" Miss Warren exclaimed incredulously.
"Then we really did find the secret passage!" Dick cried, his eyes
shining brightly, his whole countenance glowing with gratification.
"You really did. It is in excellent preservation, Sir Richard says;
he and his companions appear to have spent the whole morning
in exploring it."
"How could they find their way?" Dick asked. "It looked so awfully
dark!"
"They took lanterns, of course."
"Did they find anything, Uncle Theophilus—treasures, I mean?"
"No, merely a few casks of wine and brandy at the far end of the
passage near the house. Don't you want to know where the other
entrance is? Well, I can tell you. When the explorers had walked what
seemed an interminable distance to them, but what was really about
half a mile, I suppose, they found themselves in a large cellar, in a
corner of which was a flight of well-worn stone steps, so narrow as
to admit of only one person climbing them at a time. Sir Richard went
up first and the others followed. They mounted higher and higher till
they came to a heavy oaken door which was wide open, and passing
through the doorway, they found themselves in a small, long-ways room
furnished with a wooden bedstead, a table, and a single chair. There
was a door in the wall of the little room—I don't mean the one
leading to the stone steps, but another directly opposite—which,
when opened after some difficulty, for it was locked, and had to be
forced, revealed what proved to be a huge sheet of canvas framed in
wood—apparently the back of a picture." The doctor paused, and
glanced from one to the other of his listeners with a smile. They
were regarding him with almost breathless interest.
"Well?" said Miss Warren eagerly.
"Well?" echoed Dick.
"After careful examination Sir Richard discovered a mark like a cross
in the wood at the bottom of the canvas; he pressed it with his
finger, and so must have touched a hidden spring, for immediately the
great sheet of canvas silently slid to one side, leaving an aperture
in the wall through which Sir Richard stepped, and found himself in
the picture-gallery of his own house!"
"Theophilus!" cried Miss Warren incredulously, whilst Dick was struck
silent with astonishment.
"Yes; the secret passage leads from the sea-shore to the Manor
House," Dr. Warren said impressively, "where the entrance is hidden
by the picture of Paul Gidley, the martyr. I saw the little room
behind the picture myself this afternoon, and Sir Richard wants you
to see it too, Mary Ann. Don't you think you might call at the Manor
House to-morrow?"
"I?" cried Miss Warren, flushing hotly. "Impossible, Theophilus!
You cannot wish it!"
"Indeed I do! Why is it impossible?" her brother asked gently. "Shall
you never visit your niece when she and her husband return from
India? They are to make their home at the Manor House, I understand."
"Oh, that alters the case altogether," Miss Warren allowed. "I should
like to see the Manor House; and I like Mrs. Compton. If Sir Richard
wishes it, I will certainly call!"
Dick could talk of nothing but the secret passage during tea-time;
he asked his uncle scores of questions, but the doctor had told all
there was to tell.
The following day the little boy accompanied his aunt to the Manor
House, where every one was so pleased to see Miss Warren, and made so
much of her, that her bright face simply beamed with radiant smiles.
She was shown the picture-gallery, and the little room which the
martyr's picture had hidden so many years, and peeped down the steep
stone steps built in the thickness of the wall.
Although Dick had really been the one to find the secret passage,
Ruth took more than her share of the honour and glory, as her brother
did not fail to remind her; he was rather vexed himself at not having
had anything to do with the discovery.
That first visit of Miss Warren's to the Manor House quite broke down
the barrier which had existed between her and Sir Richard; she was
fully satisfied now that the old man had entirely forgiven his son
for his marriage.
Mrs. Compton and her children remained with her father until the new
year, when they returned to their London home. Sir Richard felt very
lonely after his visitors had gone, for the weather was wet and
cheerless, and, in consequence, Dick was not continually coming and
going between No. 8 Fore Street and the Manor House as he had been
in the habit of doing during the time his aunt and cousins had been
visiting his grandfather. February, however, brought a change in the
weather. Towards the end of the month the heavy rains ceased, and
after a few days of genial sunshine, a marked alteration was visible
in the dank hedgerows; a faint stir as of coming life murmured
through the leafless woods like a whisper of the approaching spring;
and with the lengthening days Dick told himself that surely his
parents would be coming home soon.
"They are coming! They are coming!" was the joyous refrain
continually in his ears; and every time he looked at the old clock
in the hall at No. 8 Fore Street, and watched the ship rocking to and
fro, he was reminded of the ship which would one day come, bearing
his mother and father to him from across the sea.
Dick had been in England now more than a year, and was very different
to the forlorn, pale-faced little lad who had been sent home to the
tender care of Aunt Mary Ann and Uncle Theophilus, and whose short
stature and delicate appearance had been, at first, such a
disappointment to his grandfather. He had grown considerably,
his slight frame had become more robust, and with the sea-tan on the
firm, round cheeks which had once been so white and thin, he looked
a picture of perfect health.
He spent most of the summer days out-of-doors, in the woods, or on
the beach, where he fraternised with the fishermen, and with his
knickerbockers tucked up to his thighs, put in long delightful hours
shrimping between the rocks. Then, in August, Mrs. Compton with Ruth
and Lionel again arrived at the Manor House, and Dick had congenial
companions once more to share in his amusements.
Ruth was as great a hoyden as ever, and hated to be outdone by the
boys, following their lead in every way. Lionel had certainly
improved; he was less domineering, and his accident the preceding
year had taught him the lesson of obedience, which he had failed to
learn before. Both Ruth and Lionel were looking forward to the return
of Uncle Richard and his wife, whilst their mother was thankful peace
had been restored between her father and brother, and was not a
little curious to meet her sister-in-law. Meanwhile, Dick was almost
sick at heart with waiting; it seemed as though his parents would
never come!
* * * * * *
"Grandfather has gone to London on most important business," Lionel
announced one morning, as he and Ruth called for Dick at No. 8 Fore
Street. "He went last night, but we expect him back this evening in
time for dinner; mother says he will be sure to come because Dr. and
Miss Warren have promised to dine with us. Mother sends her love to
Miss Warren, and wants her to allow you to spend the day with Ruth
and me!"
Aunt Mary Ann willingly gave her permission to this arrangement, and
Dick went off with his cousins. First they visited the post-office,
where Lionel had a commission to execute for his mother, and where
they were asked by Miss Tidy when Dick's parents were expected.
"I don't know," said Dick, shaking his head a little dolefully, and
sighing; "they didn't say anything about coming the last time they
wrote."
"Oh, they'll be here soon now, you may depend!" the post-mistress
declared, and Dick felt he quite loved her for saying it, and smiled
as he met the kindly gleam of her round green eyes.
From the post-office they repaired to the beach, where they found
Granfer Cole in conversation with his grandson Jim. Whenever the old
man saw Dick he brought up the subject of the secret passage, and
congratulated him on having been the one to discover it.
"Not that I ever thought you would find it, young gentleman," he said
on this occasion, "though I'm mighty pleased that you did, if only to
prove that my father knew what he was talking about! There were those
who didn't believe in the secret passage at all!"
The children laughed, and sat down on the beach in the sunshine to
talk; but Ruth and Lionel had most of the conversation.
"It's very queer," said Dick presently, "I don't seem able to think
of any one but mother and father to-day; I suppose it's because
I dreamt of them last night; it was so long ago I saw them!"
"I believe you're awfully fond of them, aren't you, Dick?" said Ruth
seriously.
"Of course I am!"
"You always want to do what you think they'd like," Ruth continued;
"grandfather says you're a true soldier's son, because you speak the
truth, and know how to obey!"
Dick flushed with pleasure, for to his mind this was highest praise.
He thought of his first night In England, when he had been so very
low-spirited and unhappy, and Uncle Theophilus had succeeded
in raising his British pluck.
"Grandfather likes people to tell the truth," Lionel remarked
gravely; "I've got on with him much better since I found out that
he'd rather one spoke out to him. He hates liars!"
"So does father!" Dick replied. "He says they're always mean,
cowardly sort of people."
"I haven't told even a little fib since Dick and I were nearly
drowned," Ruth chimed in.
"You weren't nearly drowned," Lionel expostulated.
"We might have been nearly drowned," Ruth persisted. "I am sure
something dreadful would have happened to us if it hadn't been for
Nero! We should have died of cold! At any rate, I told God then I'd
turn over a new leaf, and be a better girl, and I'm trying. When I
remember how I cried, and what a coward I was, I feel so ashamed of
myself! I wonder what grandfather has gone to London for,"
she proceeded with a sudden change of tone; "I believe mother knows,
because when I asked her she told me not to keep on worrying her
with questions, and that was the first question I had asked!"
The others laughed at the aggrieved expression on the little girl's
face; they did not feel so curious about Sir Richard's business
as she did.
"He left in a very good temper," remarked Lionel carelessly; "but I
haven't the least idea why he's gone! He'll be home about six this
evening."
After a little further conversation the young people rose, and turned
their footsteps towards the Manor House, dawdling on the way to pluck
and eat the blackberries which grew on the brambles by the roadside.
Mrs. Groves, portly as ever, came out of the lodge to exchange a few
words with them, and to inquire what time Sir Richard would return;
perhaps she was wondering, too, what the most important business was
which had necessitated this journey to London.
The children spent the afternoon in the gardens; and about five
o'clock Dr. Warren and his sister arrived—the latter all in a
flutter, gowned in her best silk dress, with the daintiest of ruffles
at neck and wrists, and with her fine colour a little brighter than
usual.
By-and-by a fact dawned on the boys which Ruth had discerned earlier
in the day—that their elders all seemed in a state of subdued
expectancy and excitement. Mrs. Compton and Miss Warren were holding
a conversation in lowered voices in the drawing-room, whilst the
doctor was wandering aimlessly about the hall, examining the guns and
weapons which ornamented the walls as carefully as though he had
never seen them in his life before.
Suddenly Ruth put her fair head around the dining-room door and
called to the boys, who were passing the time by sliding down the
bannisters.
"Come and look at the dinner-table," she said; "it's simply lovely!
Mother has done all the decorations herself—yellow chrysanthemums,
and maiden-hair fern! But I can't make it out—the table is laid
for too many people!"
"Oh, nonsense!" Dr. Warren cried hastily. "There's no time for you
to waste in looking at the dinner-table now, boys! Run upstairs, and
brush your hair, and wash your hands! Quick! Your grandfather will be
here very soon!"
Lionel and Dick obeyed, racing each other up the broad staircase,
whilst Ruth prepared to argue the point with the doctor as to whether
or not the table was laid for the right number.
"My dear little girl," he told her kindly, "you may depend upon it,
it is all right."
Presently the sound of carriage-wheels was heard, and Mrs. Compton
and Miss Warren hurried into the hall, whilst the servants appeared
in the background, and the boys came running noisily down the stairs.
Every one was evidently on the tiptoe of excitement; it certainly
seemed somewhat strange that so much to do should be made simply
because the master of the house was returning from a short journey.
Susan Morecombe it was who flung open the great front door as the
carriage drew up; and the children pressed forward; then paused,
transfixed with astonishment. Dick started violently as his eyes
rested on the figure seated on the box seat beside Groves—a figure
he had never seen in English costume before, but nevertheless one
that he recognised at once. It was Nanukchund. The little boy stood
spell-bound. He felt for one brief moment as though he must be
dreaming, for how was it possible Nanukchund could actually be here?
Then his gaze slowly turned from the Hindoo's solemn countenance to
the other occupants of the carriage. There was his grandfather
looking unusually pleased and glad, and by his side some one with the
dearest sweetest face in the world, who was smiling at him through a
mist of tears; and opposite was a handsome, soldierly-looking man,
bending forward hurriedly to open the carriage door.
Dick uttered a cry which expressed all the yearning passionate love
of his heart, and ran forward just as his father sprang out of the
carriage. Captain Gidley caught his little son in his arms, and
kissed him again and again, whilst Sir Richard courteously assisted
his daughter-in-law to alight. She was pale, and trembling with joy,
as Dick turned from his father to her; but the colour returned to her
cheeks as she felt his warm kisses, and heard his whispered greeting:
"Oh, mother, at last, at last!"
Afterwards, Dick had a dim remembrance of Aunt Mary Ann in tears, and
Uncle Theophilus patting her encouragingly on the back; of his
grandfather standing very upright in the doorway with a wonderfully
softened expression on his face; of his father and Aunt Arabella
kissing each other; and of Ruth and Lionel apparently enjoying the
scene; but at the time he was only fully conscious of a great
happiness, a wonderful contentment that no words could adequately
express. His cup of joy was full to overflowing now that his father
and mother had come home.
What glorious days followed! Dick had so many experiences to relate,
so much to tell concerning the past eventful months of separation
from his parents, that it was a wonder his tongue did not weary
of talking. Henceforward his home was to be at the Manor House,
an arrangement which pleased every one, even Dr. and Miss Warren,
though they missed their little nephew sadly, and felt very lonely
after he had left them; but the latter found comfort in the thought
that the room which he had occupied at No. 8 Fore Street, and which
had been his mother's before him, could still be called his, and kept
in readiness if he should, at any time, require it.
Mrs. Compton and her children made a lengthened stay at the Manor
House; and the unhappy breach in the family which Captain Gidley's
marriage had made was quite healed. It was impossible to live under
the same roof long with Dick's mother, and not like her. Sir Richard
had prepared himself to tolerate her presence; but he had not known
her many days before he found himself seeking her society; and
understanding the love with which her husband and little son regarded
her. He began to listen with pleasure to her light footsteps moving
about the house; to smile at the sound of her merry laugh; and to
think her voice one of the sweetest he had ever heard. He never told
any one that he approved of her in so many words, but on one occasion
when a servant came to him for an order, she was referred to Mrs.
Gidley.
"Go and ask Mrs. Gidley; she is mistress here," Sir Richard said
briefly, and it was then understood that for the future he intended
his son's wife to rule over his establishment; and she forthwith took
the reins of government into her hands, to the satisfaction of all.
Some of Sir Richard's acquaintances shook their heads forbodingly
when they heard of this arrangement, thinking it hardly possible the
arbitrary old man would be content not to interfere with his
daughter-in-law's management; but they were surprised to find that he
continued quite satisfied with everything she did, and upheld her
authority in the household, invariably remarking when she appealed to
him for an opinion upon any matter: "Please yourself, my dear, then
you will please me!"
So there was happiness within the walls of the Manor House—such
happiness as the master had never thought possible for him till Dick
had been sent home from India to unconsciously make peace, and pave
the way for his parents' return; and there was happiness at No. 8
Fore Street too, where the kind, unselfish hearts of Aunt Mary Ann
and Uncle Theophilus rejoiced with those they loved. This
satisfactory state of affairs continued, and the tie which bound
the two households together became so firmly rivetted that ere long
it was seldom remembered it had ever been otherwise; Dick felt he had
nothing left to wish for, which blissful state of mind he one day
confided to his grandfather, who, though he made no reply in words,
smiled with gratification, realising he could truthfully echo the
little boy's sentiment. After years of discontent spent in nursing
his unforgiving spirit, Sir Richard Gidley's proud heart had
softened; and he, too, had found happiness at last.
THE END