GOOD-BYES
"HAVE you nearly finished, Barnes?"
The speaker—Miss Leighton—put the question in a querulous tone. She
had that moment entered her bedroom at Higher Brimley, where her maid
was engaged in packing her belongings; and, taking off her bonnet and
cloak, she flung them upon the bed with an irritability of manner which
showed she had been put out.
"Yes, ma'am," Barnes answered, as she proceeded to lock the last trunk
and securely fasten its leather straps.
"I have been to Lower Brimley," Miss Leighton announced. "I thought I
would call and say good-bye to the Tiddys this evening, but they have
gone to Penzance for the day and taken the child with them."
There was a distinct note of disappointment in her voice, and her face
wore an expression of mingled annoyance and regret.
"They might have thought that I should call to-day!" she exclaimed,
vexedly.
"Do they know you are leaving to-morrow, ma'am?" Barnes questioned,
respectfully.
"I told Mrs. Tiddy I intended leaving at the end of this week: probably
she imagines that would be on Saturday—not Friday. I should like to
have said good-bye to little Peggy. Barnes, what I would give if the
child's parents would consent to my adopting her!"
"Ma'am!" cried Barnes in great astonishment, rising to her feet—she
had been kneeling to secure the straps of the trunk—and staring at her
mistress as though she doubted if she had heard aright. "Her mother
would never permit it!" she declared decisively.
"How do you know?" queried Miss Leighton, with a frown and a cold
glance of displeasure.
"Of course I don't know, ma'am," Barnes answered quietly, "and
perhaps I have no right to pass my opinion; but, from what I've heard
Miss Peggy say herself, I judge that it's very unlikely her mother
and father would part with her, especially as she's blind. Parents
generally love an afflicted child so much more dearly than those who
are better fitted to face the world!" And Barnes's face softened into
tenderness as she spoke.
"But they will have to provide for her future, and my niece's husband
is a poor man. If anything happened to him—if he died, his widow
and children would be penniless, and what would become of Peggy
then—helpless and blind? Surely if her parents are so deeply attached
to her, they will consider her interests! I will have nothing to do
with Margaret herself, but she shall not be a loser if she will allow
me to adopt Peggy. What do you think of my plan, Barnes?"
"I don't like it," Barnes responded in a low tone. "No, I don't like
it," she repeated, gaining courage to speak her mind; "the little girl
has a happy home, though I suppose it's a poor one, and she's been
accustomed to a great deal of love—"
"And if I did not love her, should I desire to adopt her?" Miss
Leighton broke in with unusual impetuosity.
"Your love is not like that which she's had all her life," Barnes said,
refraining from meeting her mistress's glance. "How can it be, ma'am?
You've taken a fancy to the child and you want her for your own sake,
because she's sweet and loveable; but her mother and father will think
of what's best for her—"
The maid's sentence was never finished—and perhaps it was as well, as
Miss Leighton's countenance had darkened with anger—for at that moment
Mrs. Ford knocked at the door with the information that there were
visitors downstairs. And on descending to her sitting-room, the old
lady found Mrs. Tiddy and Peggy awaiting her.
"We are so sorry we were not at home when you called, Miss Leighton,"
said Mrs. Tiddy, "especially as you are leaving to-morrow—I thought you
would not go till Saturday. We have just returned from Penzance, where
we have spent the day."
"I hope you have had a pleasant time," Miss Leighton remarked genially.
"But are you not very tired?"
"I think Peggy is," Mrs. Tiddy replied, "but when we heard you had been
to Lower Brimley in our absence to say good-bye to us, she felt with me
that we could not let you go without a word of farewell, so we decided
to come straight on here. We must only stay a few minutes, though, as
my husband is waiting in the dog-cart outside."
"We have had such a lovely day," Peggy informed Miss Leighton. "We had
dinner at an hotel, and we rode to Land's End in a Jersey car; Mr.
Tiddy said I must not go home without having been to Land's End."
"And when do you go home?" Miss Leighton inquired.
"At the end of the month," Peggy answered, "when father is coming to
fetch me. It has all been arranged. Father is going to take a few days'
holiday; and I shall be able to show him the sea, and the village, and
the church on the cliff, and all the poultry and the animals on the
farm! Oh! I am so much looking forward to that! But I shall be very
sorry when the time comes to leave Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy and dear old
Wolf! I shall never forget my visit to Cornwall as long as I live! I
shall not forget you, either," she went on, taking the old lady's hand
between her own and pressing it. "I don't suppose we shall ever meet
again, but I shall remember you—always. I wish you were not unfriendly
with mother! I am sure she would like to be friendly with you. Don't
you think, Aunt Caroline, you might forgive her now?"
"Did any one tell you to say this to me?" questioned Miss Leighton
suspiciously, glancing from the child to Mrs. Tiddy, who looked
somewhat alarmed.
"Oh, no, no! But it seems so dreadful and—and sad that you and mother
should not be friends, for I know you used to be kind to her long ago;
and you have been very kind to me—so different from what I thought you
were like!"
"It's my great desire to be always kind to you, Peggy," Miss Leighton
said gravely and impressively. "I wish you to bear that in mind. But
you must not meddle between your mother and me. Little girls should not
interfere in matters they do not understand."
Peggy blushed rosy red and her blue eyes filled with tears, but she
managed to keep them back. She felt snubbed and uncomfortable, and was
very relieved when Mrs. Tiddy declared they must go. Miss Leighton rose
to escort her visitors to the garden gate, and, as they were leaving
the room, Barnes came downstairs. Peggy recognised the maid's step
immediately, and meet her with extended hands.
"Good-bye, Barnes," she said, adding in a whisper, "I sha'n't forget
all you told me about your poor brother, and I shall remember always to
pray for him as I said I would. If you ever see me in London, you'll be
sure to speak to me, will you not?"
"Yes, miss," Barnes responded. She glanced hastily around and saw that
her mistress had followed Mrs. Tiddy out of the front door, then she
put her arms around Peggy and kissed her. "Good-bye, you dear little
soul," she said affectionately. "You're going home soon, are you not,
my dear?"
"Yes," Peggy assented happily.
"Ah, you'll be glad to be with your mother and father and brother
again, won't you?"
"Indeed I shall," agreed Peggy.
"There's no place like home and the love we get there—remember that,
Miss Peggy. It's better to be rich in love than in money, any day!"
"Of course it is," smiled the little girl. "And I shall be very glad to
be at home again, though Mr. and Mrs. Tiddy have been as kind as kind
could be!"
"They're good, kind people, miss; any one can see that, and you've been
happy with them, I know; but—there, I mustn't keep you any longer!" And
Barnes kissed Peggy once more and hurried away.
After that, Peggy hastened to join the others at the garden gate. Mrs.
Tiddy had already taken her place on the front seat of the dog-cart,
and Mr. Tiddy was shaking hands with Miss Leighton and telling her, in
his hearty, hospitable way, that she must never pay that district a
visit without coming to Lower Brimley. She assured him that she never
would.
"Now then, Peggy. Ready?" he inquired briskly.
The little girl assented, approaching Miss Leighton and holding out her
hand. She raised her face to the old lady's and received a lingering
kiss, which she returned rather shyly. Then, Mr. Tiddy lifted her in
his arms and placed her on the back seat of the dog-cart, bidding her
keep a firm hold of the rail of the vehicle and not fall out.
"Good-bye, Aunt Caroline!" cried Peggy brightly, waving her hand, as
they started off for home.
But Miss Leighton made no response. There was a choking sensation in
her throat, and she dared not attempt to speak for fear her voice
should betray her emotion. She had a feeling, at that moment, that
Peggy was going from her for ever, and that made her very sad.
The spring evening was closing in fast now; and, as the dog-cart
disappeared from sight, Miss Leighton turned and slowly retraced her
footsteps towards the house, encountering Barnes as she entered the
front door. The maid looked at her mistress a trifle curiously, and
received a somewhat defiant glance in return.
"Tell Mrs. Ford I shall require my supper immediately, as I shall have
to be up early in the morning, and therefore shall go to bed in good
time to-night, Barnes," Miss Leighton said, in her usual cold tone.
"Yes, ma'am," Barnes replied. "I am glad, ma'am, that Mrs. Tiddy
brought little Miss Peggy to say good-bye to you," she ventured to add.
"I have said good-bye to the child for the present," Miss Leighton
responded deliberately; "but she too will soon be returning to town,
and I have planned that we shall meet again."