A WONDERFUL DISCOVERY.
There was one person who was much vexed that he could not have a hand
in the late doings. This was Roberts, the butler, who still was far
from well, and not allowed out except in the garden on dry days.
But he talked a good deal with the housekeeper; and one day, after one
of these talks, she went to Mr. Burnet and said, "If you have no
objection, sir, I should like to ask Mrs. Mitchell and Juliet to take
tea with me some afternoon."
"By all means," replied Mr. Burnet. "You can give them some of your
scones, Mrs. Johnson, and some of your new strawberry jam."
Accordingly a day was fixed for Mrs. Mitchell and Juliet to drink tea
at Bourne House. They arrived at four o'clock, neatly dressed, and
were taken by Mrs. Johnson into her own little room.
"You see," explained the housekeeper, "I am what is called
cook-housekeeper; I do the cooking and manage the house. Then there is
Mary the housemaid, under my orders; she is out this afternoon, so
you won't see her. And there is the butler, who is not under my
orders; and you won't see him, because he has his meals in his room,
being still an invalid. I daresay your Juliet will take his tea up to
him."
"Oh, yes, I will," cried Juliet. "He has been very kind to me."
"So have a good many people," said Mrs. Johnson. "Now, here you are.
You'll find him in the first room on the right-hand side, at the top
of the first flight of stairs."
As soon as Juliet had started with the tray on which Roberts's tea was
arranged, Mrs. Johnson went on talking to Mrs. Mitchell.
"The house is not all furnished yet, and Roberts is not in the room
which is really to be his. There are three reception rooms, a lovely
drawing-room opening into the conservatory, good dining-room, and
small study. Eight bed-rooms: Mr. Burnet's, Mr. Leonard's, the
butler's, the housemaid's, mine, and there will be three spare rooms;
so I suppose Mr. Burnet means to have a good deal of staying company."
"Eight bed-rooms!" repeated Mrs. Mitchell; "and only one housemaid for
all of them! Why, however will she keep them all?"
"You may well ask that," said the housekeeper in a peculiar tone.
"I'll show you over the house by and by, and you shall judge for
yourself how Mary will manage it."
Juliet now returned.
"Well, how does he seem?"
"He seems pretty well," said Juliet; "and he was very kind."
"Ay, he's kind enough. Sugar, Mrs. Mitchell? Jam, Juliet? You are able
to leave the little ones when you come out, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes," Mrs. Mitchell answered. "My second girl, Amy, is almost as
big as Juliet, and a handy girl too. And you know we have no baby
now."
"I know, I know," said the housekeeper. "So you did not feel much put
about when Juliet was away from you?"
"Oh, no, not in that way."
"No, to be sure. Scones, Mrs. Mitchell? Milk, Juliet?"
When tea was ended Mrs. Johnson took her visitors over the house. They
saw the sitting-rooms, only partly furnished, and all the bed-rooms
except that in which Roberts was reposing himself. Some of these
chambers were furnished, others were quite empty. Mary's room had two
beds in it, two chests of drawers, two washstands, and so forth.
"Ah!" and Mrs. Johnson nodded her head; "yes, you see I got everything
double. Do you understand?"
"Everything double!" said Mrs. Mitchell.
"And only Mary in the room."
"Only Mary in the room!"
"Well, I see you don't take in what I mean. It is this. When we get
settled and have a lot of visitors in the house I shall want help in
the kitchen, and Mary will want help in the rooms. What would you say
to letting Juliet come and try how she would like the place?"
There was no doubt that Juliet would like it; her face said so. And
Mrs. Mitchell, after looking serious for a few minutes, brightened up
and said, "Do you think she would do? You know, she was so tiresome
that her aunt could not keep her."
"Yes, I know; but she has had a stern lesson, and if she will try to
be a good girl I should like to give her the chance. What do you say
yourself, Juliet?"
Instead of saying as she used, "I'm that stupid and awkward that I
can't do nothing," or that still worse thing, "I suppose I can do
anything I want to," Juliet replied modestly, "I will try to do what
you tell me."
"That's all I want," cried Mrs. Johnson kindly; "no girl can do better
than what she is told. And as soon as I can settle it with Mr. Burnet
I will come and settle it with you. Now, we will go out and look at
the gardens, which are pretty though not to say large."
When there came a pause in the conversation Juliet said to her mother,
"Mr. Robert was very kind, and would like to take you and me and
father in a boat on the river some day soon. And he would like to go
on Saturday afternoon if he is well enough. And he thinks Mrs.
Bosher's brother would come too, and if Mr. Robert is not well enough
to row, Mrs. Bosher's brother will row, and Mr. Robert will steer; and
Mr. Robert says we are to meet him at the lock at three o'clock, which
is between luncheon and dinner."
"And I hope you will have a nice trip," were Mrs. Johnson's last words
as she said good-bye at the gate.
Juliet felt quite frightened at her good fortune; it seemed to make
her want to cry more than poverty and trouble had done. And she said
her prayers more earnestly than she had said them when she was naughty
and unhappy. As the days went by and all was well, her father growing
stronger, the children rosier, the house more comfortable, she did
feel very deeply that the great blessings showered upon her had not
been deserved, but were sent to make her better in the future than she
had been in the past.
There was yet one more thing that she desired; that was to take her
parents down the river to the place where she had been almost
shipwrecked in the _Fairy_. They, too, wished to see the spot where
their daughter had narrowly escaped a terrible death, which they
shuddered even to think of.
Three o'clock on the afternoon of Saturday saw the whole Mitchell
family at the lock. The children came to see their elders off, and to
spend the afternoon with Philip and Emily.
"Glad to see you out in the daylight," said Mr. Rowles to Mr.
Mitchell. "You are twice the man you were, now that you are keeping
better hours."
Mitchell only smiled; he did not think it possible to quite overcome
Rowles's prejudice.
"Here's the tub which Phil has brought up from the ferry. He thought
you would like a flat-bottomed tub, Mary."
Mrs. Mitchell looked about, expecting to see a round thing similar to
a washing-tub.
But her husband knew better. "Yes," said he, "when I was a young man I
used to go to Battersea on holidays, I and some others, and nothing
would suit us but outrigged gigs, randans, and such like; but now I'm
growing old, and a flat-bottomed tub suits us better, my missus and
me. Shall we get in, do you think, Ned?"
"Yes, get in. Here they come, four on 'em--two blue stripes, one red
stripe, and one all gals. They can all go in together."
"In the water!" cried Mrs. Mitchell.
"No, Mary; in the lock. What a cockney you are!"
He went to work the paddles and the handles, and while he was so
employed the others heard a tremendous halloo from the bank on the far
side of the river. Juliet looked slightly alarmed and said to her
mother, "I think it is Mrs. Bosher's brother."
And so it was. He had come down through the wood and the fields by the
same path which Juliet had gone up on the sad day when she ran away
from Littlebourne Lock. But he was not frightened by the cows, nor
caught by the brambles, and had he met himself with a gun he would not
have been at all terrified.
As soon as his loud deep voice was heard, Philip got into the _Fairy_
and went across to fetch him. While this was doing the four boats got
through the lock, and Rowles came back to talk to his friends.
"I suppose you can swim?" he said to Mitchell.
"Yes; and so can my boy Albert. Swimming-baths in London, you know,
where you get clean and learn to swim all in one."
"A better bath here," returned Rowles, "and nothing to pay."
He looked lovingly at the beautiful river, rippled by the soft wind
into a deeper blue than the clear blue overhead. Mitchell, too, was
learning to love the Thames.
"And what are you waiting for now?" Mrs. Rowles asked.
"Why, for a friend; that is to say, Mr. Robert from the House."
"Ah, he can't get along very fast on account of his rheumatics. But
he won't keep you standing about very long; and here's Mrs. Bosher's
brother to fill up the time." And Rowles turned to greet the new
arrival, who looked indeed big enough to fill up any amount of time or
space, even had he been without the great yellow rose which he wore in
his button-hole.
While they were in friendly talk with Mrs. Bosher's brother, the party
on the eyot did not notice who was coming along the road from the
village. It was a middle-aged man, who walked rather limpingly, and
who made most extraordinary gestures as he approached the group. First
he stood and stared, then he rubbed his eyes and stared again. Then he
took out his spectacles and put them on, took them off, rubbed them,
and put them on again.
He advanced a few steps, cast his hands up in the air, leaned heavily
on his stick, and exclaimed under his breath, "I can't believe it! Who
could have thought it? It is like a story-book!"
Then he went on a few steps further and came close behind the group,
which was gathered round Mrs. Bosher's brother, listening to his loud,
hearty remarks.
Rowles was the first who saw the new-comer. He looked over his
shoulder and nodded. Then Mrs. Bosher's brother roared out, "Hullo!
here you are at last! How do you feel?"
And before the new-comer could reply to this greeting all the other
eyes were turned upon him, with expressions of surprise and
bewilderment.
"You! What brings you here?"
"What brings _you_ here?"
Mrs. Bosher's brother was the only person who remained calm. "What's
the matter?" said he. "Are you old friends or old enemies?"
"It is so odd," said Mitchell; "I can't make it out."
"Well, shake hands," cried Roberts; and he shook hands all round.
When that was over Mr. Rowles said he would like to know what it was
all about, and so at last matters were explained.
"It is Daniel Roberts, who married my poor sister Nan, that died nine
years come the 1st of November." While Mitchell said this he was
gazing harder than ever at Roberts.
"Why did you never tell me his name?" Mrs. Mitchell asked of Juliet.
"I did," Juliet replied. "I always called him Mr. Robert."
"Ain't he Mr. Robert then?" asked Rowles, still perplexed.
"No," said the butler; "I am Daniel Roberts. Roberts is my surname,
and Robert is not my Christian name. But some people have no ear for
music, and can't hear an S when it is at the end of the word."
Mrs. Mitchell turned to her children. "It is your Uncle Roberts. I
_am_ surprised at finding him here. Why, Daniel, Mrs. Johnson said she
thought it was partly owing to you that Mr. Burnet had us brought down
here."
"So it was, Mary. But, mind you, I did not know it was you. That girl
there, they called her Juliet, and then they talked about Juliet's
father being a printer and out of health, and all that; and I thinks
to myself that there was Mitchell, poor Nan's brother, who was a
printer, and I should not like to think that he was out of health and
out of work, and that gave me a kind of feeling for all printers, and
I put in a word for Juliet's father. But I little thought that
Juliet's father was poor Nan's brother."
"Ain't you glad, man?" said Mrs. Bosher's brother, giving a squeeze to
Roberts's rheumatic arm; "ain't you glad?"
"Glad--oh, it's agony!--yes, glad as I can be."
"Well, I can't make it out now!" said Mitchell, taking off his hat to
cool his head. "Just to think that Mr. Robert the butler is my
brother-in-law!"
"Are you sorry, man?" roared Mrs. Bosher's brother, putting his great
rose into Mitchell's face; "are you sorry?"
"Sorry!--phew, it's delicious, but stifling--no, I'm certainly not
sorry."
"Then get into the boat, and do the rest of your talking there."
They took the hint. Mrs. Bosher's brother rowed them gently down the
stream to Banksome Weir, the scene of Juliet's escape, and afterwards
he rowed them gently back again. He said he could do that kind of
rowing in his sleep.
They were all very happy; a happy family party.
And not the least happy was Juliet Mitchell, who had put away from her
all her former follies and ill-humours, and had begun a new life of
gentleness, obedience, and industry.
Mr. Burnet and Leonard passed them in another boat, and smiled and
nodded at them.
Mr. and Mrs. Webster passed them, walking on the towing-path, and
nodded and smiled at them.
Mrs. Bosher's bonnet came to see them in the evening, and nodded more
than ever.
And a very kind letter came from Miss Sutton, with a hymn-book as a
special present to Juliet.
THE END.
* * * * *
End of Project Gutenberg's Littlebourne Lock, by F. Bayford Harrison