THE WEDDING.
At ten o'clock the next morning two little white-clothed children were
standing at the sitting-room window waiting for the carriage that was
going to take them to the church.
This was the most enjoyable part of it, for they were going to drive
alone, and, when it came for them, they went down the steps proudly
conscious that several errand boys, and a few heads out of the opposite
Windows in the street, were watching their departure.
Margot did not drive with them, but she was going to walk to the church
and witness everything from a back seat.
'Now,' said True as they drove off, 'what do you feel like, Bobby?'
'Very kercited!' said Bobby, sitting back with red cheeks and shining
eyes.
'I feel we're going to be married ourselves,' said True; 'or, better
still, we're a prince and princess going to a fairy ball.'
'Or,' said Bobby gravely, 'we might be going into the Golden Gates,
True. We look quite fit to-day.'
True stroked her white silk dress thoughtfully, then she lifted her
bouquet of flowers and smelt them. The bouquet was a lovely surprise
to her, as it had only arrived about an hour previously.
'Yes,' she said, 'you always think of the best things, Bobby. 'It
would be very nice if it could come true, and we could go straight
through and see mother. Do you think she would come to meet us if we
did?'
'I'm sure God will tell her to,' said Bobby confidently. 'You see He
always is so kind. He'd know we would like to see her.'
They arrived at the church, and to Bobby's astonishment his Uncle James
came down the path and took them out of the cab.
'You did not expect to see me here,' he said, 'but your Uncle Mortimer
is my brother, you know. Your aunt is abroad, or she would have been
here too. Now come along and I'll show you where you're to stand.
There aren't more than half a dozen people in the church.'
True and Bobby stepped into the rather dreary-looking church with great
awe. A few children had congregated round the doors, but inside the
church looked almost empty. Then their faces brightened as they saw
Mr. Egerton come down the aisle towards them.
'That's right, youngsters. Tell them where to wait, Jim, and look
after them. Oh, how I wish this affair was over!'
He ejaculated this more to himself than them, and paced up the aisle
again. Bobby looked after him with perplexity.
'He doesn't seem to like it,' he whispered to True.
'No,' said True, who always liked to imbue Bobby with a sense of her
superior wisdom. 'Men always hate waiting for anybody, and Margot says
a bride always keeps them waiting, for if she didn't it would look as
if she were in a hurry to be married.'
Bobby's Uncle James told them where to stand just inside the door, and
presently up drove the bride's carriage. She was very quietly dressed
in a grey cloth dress and hat, and was accompanied by an old gentleman,
a cousin of hers, a General Seaton. She looked very sweet, but very
pale, though she smiled faintly at the children. Then hand in hand
they walked up the aisle behind her, and the service began. Bobby
recognised Miss Robsart in one of the seats at the top of the church,
there was also Miss Denton, Lady Isobel's Indian friend; the rest of
the company were not known to the children. Much of the service was
unintelligible to Bobby, but he drew a sigh of relief when he saw his
Uncle Mortimer take Lady Isobel's hand in his.
'She won't be frightened now he's holding her,' he whispered to True;
'but I seed her hands quite shake just now.'
It was soon over, and the little party went into the vestry. Then it
was that Lady Isobel put her arms right round Bobby and kissed him
passionately, and when he looked up at her he saw that her eyes were
full of tears.
'Aren't you happy?' he asked.
She gave a little sob.
'Oh yes, darling; but grown-up people always have sadness mixed with
their gladness,' she said.
Bobby pondered over this. It all seemed bustle and confusion now. He
and True drove to the hotel with a strange lady and gentleman who
discussed the bride and bridegroom without taking any notice of the
children.
'I'm thankful she has married again. She was not cut out for a
solitary woman.'
'He's a very decent chap--known her all his life, hasn't he?'
'Yes; I always did think they were attached years ago; but he had no
money, and her parents were ambitious and kept them apart. I was at
her first marriage, and she seemed almost afraid of her bridegroom, I
fancied. I believe affection came afterwards, but it certainly was a
match made up by her parents in the first instance.'
'A wedding is a severe ordeal.'
'I love a wedding,' announced Bobby, staring at the speaker solemnly.
'When I grows up I shall have as many as I can of my own.'
The laughter that followed this statement offended him. He relapsed
into silence, even though he was pressed to say how many wives he was
intending to have. They reached the hotel, and went into lunch with
the other guests.
'It is a real old-fashioned wedding breakfast,' said one lady. 'Why
have you had the ceremony so early, General Seaton?'
'They want to catch the midday train for the Lakes,' he responded.
Bobby and True were well looked after, and thoroughly enjoyed
themselves.
Just before bride and bridegroom departed, Mr. Egerton called Bobby to
his side. He was standing by Lady Isobel, who was beginning to take
her farewell of her friends.
'Do you think we have behaved ourselves well?' he asked him.
'Oh, I think it's been lovelly!' exclaimed Bobby with rapt eyes.
'Haven't you enjoyed it 'normously? Me and Nobbles have.'
'Let's see Master Nobbles! I really believe, Bobby, that he has had
something to do with this wedding. It was he who took you to see Lady
Isobel, remember, and she says it was the result of a certain text of
yours that took her out to India. If I hadn't met her--well, who
knows. Anyhow, I'm a lucky man to-day.'
Bobby was enchanted to think that Nobbles had a share in the wedding.
When Lady Isobel bent over him to wish him good-bye, she said:
'I shall look forward to see you soon again, Bobby darling. We're only
going to be away about three weeks, and then we're going straight to
your old home. I don't think I shall like to go into your empty
nursery and not find you there. God bless you, my sweet!'
She had kissed him and was gone. Bobby felt inclined to cry for the
first time. Then rice was put into his hand to fling after the
carriage, and his spirits rose again.
Miss Robsart took them home, and all the way she and they talked over
every detail of their enjoyable time. Even Margot acknowledged that,
for a quiet wedding, it was very well done, and that the bride did look
the sweetest lady that she had seen for a long time. It was natural
that after such excitement the next few days seemed dull and flat, but
gradually the children settled down to their lessons, and the weeks
went quietly by.
One afternoon Margot took them for a walk in Kensington Gardens. This
was always a treat to them; they would pretend they were in the
country; and though the trees were bare and lifeless, and there were no
flowers in the neatly kept beds, the round pond and the grass and the
long walks, which were so good for races, were a great delight to them.
They soon found their way down to the pond; for though it was a cold
day it was a sunny one, and several men and boys were launching small
sailing-boats. Bobby stood looking on with great fascination. There
was one boat which took his fancy. She was painted scarlet, and had a
miniature Union Jack attached to her mast. A little boy, not much
older than himself, was the owner, and he, with a young maid-servant,
was watching her journey across the pond with some anxiety.
Suddenly a gust of wind seized her, and she capsized, then she
entangled herself in some weed and lay helpless just out of reach. The
little boy turned to Bobby:
'Lend me your stick, will you?' he said. 'Jane has run round to the
other side with mine. I thought my ship would go straight across to
her.'
Bobby handed him Nobbles very reluctantly. The little fellow stretched
Nobbles out, but just failed to reach his boat, then he lost his
balance, tumbled into the water himself, and though he scrambled out
again the next moment, he left go of Nobbles, who floated out of reach
at once. Bobby was frantic with grief. He wailed out:
Oh, Nobbles, Nobbles! Save him! Somebody save him!'
Nobody knew who or what Nobbles was for some minutes, and when they did
know they began to laugh. Away he floated. Would he go across the
pond and land safely the other side? At one time Bobby thought he
might, and held his breath whilst he watched him. Alas! he began to
circle round and round and finally remained almost stationary in the
middle of the pond. And then it was that Bobby burst into tears.
'He'll never come back no more! He'll be drownded; he'll go down to
the bottom, and I shall never see him again!'
'It's only a stick!' said a ragged-looking urchin, looking at Bobby
curiously. 'You can easy get another.'
'Oh, I can't! I can't! Do get him back for me! I love him so!'
The boy laughed, then surprised everyone by throwing off his jacket,
splashing into the pond, and swimming like a fish towards Nobbles.
Of course a policeman immediately appeared on the scene and was very
angry.
But when the boy returned to shore and presented Nobbles to his little
master, Margot protested against the hard words that were hurled at the
rescuer.
'It isn't many boys would get a wetting for a stick, so don't scold
him, poor boy! I'm sure Master Bobby is ever so grateful to him, for
he treasures that bit of stick like nothing else. What's your name, my
lad, and where do you live?'
'"Curly," they calls me, lidy, otherwise John Hart, I lives on my wits
most of the diy.'
'He's all wet,' said True, looking at the boy pitifully; 'how will he
get dry, Margot; he will catch cold.'
Bobby was so occupied in drying Nobbles with his pocket-handkerchief
that he hardly thanked the boy; now he looked up, and was quite as
distressed as True.
'He must be dried, Margot; let's take him home; it was so very good of
him.'
Margot hurriedly produced her big purse and handed the boy one
shilling. He stuck his hands in his pockets and grinned at her.
'I ain't goin' to take a bob for that!' he said.
Margot put back her shilling, the policeman moved away.
'Come along, Master Bobby, we had best go home; if that boy likes to
follow us he can, and I'll give him an old pair of trousers that your
father gave me to give away. If he's too high and mighty to take them
he can go his own way. Many of these London boys dress themselves in
rags on purpose to excite pity.'
'Do come home with us,' said Bobby, turning to Curly appealingly.
He grinned, made a dart in the opposite direction, and was soon lost to
view. The children walked home soberly, but their astonishment was
great when they were going up the flight of steps that led indoors to
turn and find Curly standing behind them.
'You are a funny boy,' said Bobby; 'I finked you had gone home.'
'I wish he had,' muttered Margot; 'there's no trusting these sort.'
But she told him he might come in and sit in the hall, and told the
children to stay with him while she went to get what she had promised
him. True made her way to the landlady to get a piece of cake for him.
Bobby stayed by his side and talked, as only Bobby could talk.
'Tell me where you reely lives. I am so very glad you saved Nobbles'
life; he's my dearest, bestest friend in the world!'
'He's a rum 'un!' said Curly, regarding Nobbles' little head with some
interest. 'Well, when I lives at 'ome it's 7 Surrey Court. Now you
ain't no wiser, I bet!'
'I could find it if I wanted to. I'd ask a policeman to take me,' said
Bobby confidently. 'Do you go to school, or are you too grown-up?'
'Much too grown-up by long shakes!' said Curly with his broad grin; 'no
school for me if I know it.'
'And what do you do all day long?'
Curly winked his eye at him, then said grandly: 'My occypations are
warious. Tomorrer I sweeps my crossin' in the High Street.'
'High Street Kensington?' questioned Bobby. 'Oh, I'll come and see
you, and walk across your crossing.'
'The day hafter,' went on Curly, 'if it be fine I may be a hawkin'
horinges. I likes a change o' work, and another pal takes my crossin'
when I'm elsewhere. Day follerin' I may be out o' town.'
'In the country? I wish you'd take me. How do you go?'
'I rides mostly,' said the boy, with another wink. 'I ain't perticlar
as to my wehicle!'
'And when you get into the country what happens?'
Curly gazed up at the ceiling reflectively. 'I takes my holiday. On
occasions I brings up hivy, and berries, and 'olly, and hawks 'em round
nex' day 'stead of horinges.'
'I'd like to be you,' said Bobby admiringly. 'Have you got a father?'
'No, 'e was dead afore I were twelve months old.'
'I've got two fathers,' said Bobby proudly, 'and I especks you have one
same as me. God is my Father. Isn't He yours?'
Curly gave a kind of snort.
'That's Sunday-school jaw!'
'It isn't jaw,' said Bobby, gazing at him solemnly. 'It's quite true;
and God looks after everybodies who's in His family. And if a boy
hasn't any father, God is 'ticularly kind to him to make up for it.
Once my father was far away, and God was ever so kind to me. I used to
feel He was. He never goes away, so you can always have Him to talk
to.'
Margot came downstairs at this juncture and put a parcel into Curly's
hand.
'There, my lad, that's for helping Master Bobby. And now run off, for
I'm sure our landlady wouldn't like to see you here.'
'Stop!' cried True, coming up the kitchen stairs; 'see what I've got
for him! It's scalding hot!'
She was carrying very carefully, in both hands, a cup of cocoa, and
Curly's eyes lit up at the sight of it.
'And a piece of cake,' she added, producing a slice from her pocket.
Curly took the cup from her with a gruff 'thank 'ee.' He made short
work of both cocoa and cake, then took his parcel and made for the door.
Bobby laid his hand on his coat-sleeve.
'You've saved Nobbles' life,' he said, 'and I shan't never, never
forget it.'
Curly grinned and departed.
'They've no manners, those street boys,' said Margot; 'but it was a
kind thing to do for you, Master Bobby.'
'He's going to be one of my friends,' said Bobby firmly; 'and I shall
go and see him to-morrow at his crossing.'
He accomplished this, for he persuaded Miss Robsart to go with them.
She very often took them for a short walk if Margot was busy, and she
became interested in the boy at once.
'I have a class of rather ragged boys on Sunday,' she said; 'and if he
doesn't go anywhere I will get him to come to me.'
It was rather a muddy day, and Curly was hard at work with his broom
when they caught sight of him. He grinned when they came up, and first
pretended to be too busy to speak to them; but presently he paused for
breath, and stood resting on his broom. Bobby insisted on shaking
hands with him, and was ready with a heap of questions to which he
expected replies. Miss Robsart, in her bright, happy way, began to
talk to him too, and she soon found out that his mother worked at a
factory, that he had two little sisters at school, and that he was
wanting to get into steady work if he could, only no one would start
him.
''Tis the charac'er they'll be on about,' he said, laughing and showing
an even set of white teeth; 'they looks at the clothes and shakes their
wise 'eads! "Must have a respec'able by," they says; but bless'd if I
don't mike more some dys than some blokes dos if they works a week on
hend!'
Then Miss Robsart discovered that he had left off going to
Sunday-school, and after a good deal of persuasion he promised to come
to her class the following Sunday.
As they walked home she said to Bobby:
'I like his face so much; he looks honest; and I shall go and see his
home and his mother if I can get at her. We may be able to help him to
get a place, Bobby. I always feel so sorry for the boys who have no
one to start them in life.'
'I fought God always started us from heaven,' said Bobby.
Miss Robsart smiled. True remarked:
'I don't believe he knows about the golden gates, Bobby. You might
show him your picture, one day; and p'raps he'd try to keep himself a
little cleaner.'
True never could quite distinguish the difference between the outside
and inside cleansing.
Bobby looked up thoughtfully.
'I'll tell him 'bout it. He's going to be my friend, True; and me and
Nobbles means to see him very often.'
And when Bobby said a thing he meant it.