"ONLY MISS TERRY COME BACK TO US!"
"Yes," continued Madam; "from what the good schoolmistress has written to
me, and from the child's own letters, I am hoping to find my granddaughter
grown into quite a gentle little lady."
A shout from somewhere below the windows interrupted her, a shout so
unusual and peculiar that Madam and Nurse Nancy were silenced, and sat
listening and looking at one another. More cries followed, astonished,
admiring, and then a sound from a little distance of wild, shrill cheering
began to come nearer.
Madam and Nurse Nancy stood up and hurried to a window overlooking the
drive in front of the house, and then to another through which they could
see the avenue approaching it.
There was a hint of dusk in the air, yet enough light to show a strange
sight, a horse and car flying along between the trees towards the house,
and followed by a little rabble of boys and girls, all clapping their hands
and cheering in the wildest delight. The cause of their excitement was
easily seen. In the driver's seat sat a small figure with a yellow curly
head, her hat blown off and hanging on her shoulders by the strings round
her neck, her hands grasping the reins, and her feet planted determinedly
against the dash-board.
"Heavens!" cried Madam. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Don't be puttin' yourself out, madam," said Nancy. "It's only Miss Terry
come back to us! Sure the ould warrior hasn't done with her yet awhile.
Good saints! to see the grip that the little bits of hands of her has on
the reins!"
"It will kill me, Nancy, it will kill me. Can you see if there is anyone on
the car besides herself? What has become of Lally?"
"Oh, goodness knows!" said Nancy. "He's not to be seen; but Turly's with
her safe enough, houldin' on for his bare life, one clutch on the rail of
the seat, and the other on the well o' the car. Goodness knows how much
longer he could stick to it. But she's bringin' all up to the hall-door
splendid, an' I declare you would think the ould horse was laughin' at the
joke!"
"I hope she hasn't killed Lally and lost the luggage about the roads,"
groaned Madam. "And where has she picked up all that crowd of wild
creatures that are screaming round the car?"
"Sure, out of ivery place as they came along," said Nancy. "Now, I'll just
go down, madam, and bring the childher up to you, an' you're to sit there
and not to stir, for you're shakin' all over like the ould weather-cock on
a day whin the wind does be blowin' from ivery side."
[Illustration]
Meanwhile Terry had brought the car in triumph to the door and jumped down
from her perch, her yellow curls on end in the wind, her hat flapping on
her back, and the fur capes of her little coat standing up straight round
her ears. She threw away the reins and ran to the horse's head, putting her
cheek against his nose, petting him with her hands, and pouring out
flatteries enough to turn any animal's brain.
"You darling, you angel, how lovely you did run for me! Has anybody got a
lump of sugar? No, well it is a shame. But I'll come to you to-morrow with
lots of it."
"Miss Terry! Miss Terry! Welcome home, Miss Terry!" shrieked a chorus of
shrill young voices. "Sure we run a lot of the ways with ye, Miss Terry,
darlin'!"
"So you did!" cried Terry. "Wasn't it splendid?" Her little purse was in
her hand in a moment. "Here is all I've got!" and she flung its contents of
shillings, sixpences, and coppers among the dancing youngsters, who
scrambled and wrangled for them, and finally disappeared in a headlong
scamper down the avenue.
By this time Turly had got down from the car, disdaining the assistance of
the women who came to moan over him.
"It's well you didn't kill your brother, Miss Terry," said Nurse Nancy
severely, "and your gran'ma is anxious to know whereabouts on the road you
murdhered Misther Lally."
Terry stared at her with her big blue eyes, and then burst out laughing.
"Oh, you dear, funny old Nurse!" she said; "I'm sure Granny never thought
of such a thing. Why, here is Lally, dear old slowcoach! Got off to pick me
some moss, and got left behind. And to think that Turly didn't know how to
hold on to a car! But please take me to Gran'ma, Nursey dear, I do so want
to see her!"
Granny was sitting very erect in her chair, with a face that was intended
to be severe, but was only sad and frightened. The door opened and Nurse
Nancy appeared with the children. Terry flew forward, but Granny waved her
off, and began to address her seriously.
"Terencia Mary" (Granny's voice quavered), "what is the meaning of your
behaving in this extraordinary manner?"
"Oh, Granny dear, I didn't behave, I assure you I didn't. We had such a
glorious drive home, and I am so glad to see you. But oh, Granny dear, I'm
afraid you are sick; you look so pale."
"No wonder if I am sick and pale at your conduct. Do they allow you to sit
in the driver's seat and drive the cars at Miss Goodchild's?"
"They couldn't, Granny dear," said Terry, shaking back her bright curls,
and fixing her clear eyes on the old lady's face. "They have no cars, only
an omnibus to take us to the station. And I couldn't drive an omnibus, now
could I, Granny?"
"And do you think----" but Terry's arms were round her Granny's neck, and
the kisses of her fresh young lips were sweet on the wrinkled cheeks.
"There, there, Terry, my darling, we must talk about it another time. You
won't do it again, will you, Terry?"
"I won't indeed, Granny, not if you don't like it. But do give me a huge,
gigantic hug, Granny darling! And only look at Turly. Hasn't he grown fat
and big! Come close up, Turly dear; Granny wants to hug you."
The hugs were given in plentiful measure and then Turly, who had been
standing aside, looking rather abashed, plucked up courage and remained by
Gran'ma's knee. He was a sturdily-built little fellow, with large, dark
eyes and a square forehead, ordinarily rather silent and slow in his
movements. The contrast between him and the light-limbed, quick-speaking
Terry was remarkable, and to no one more obvious than to Turly himself, who
had the most adoring admiration of his lively sister.
"Are they to have their tea in the nursery, madam?" asked Nurse Nancy, who
had been standing by, a witness of Granny's attempt and failure to scold.
"No, Nancy; no! Terencia is going to be good. They must have tea with me
here. Just put them into their evening clothes and bring them back to me."
After half an hour's manipulation from Nurse Nancy the children returned to
Granny, who in the meanwhile had dozed in her chair, quite worn out with
the fatigues of expectation, and the necessity for being angry. Nothing
remained of the afternoon's excitement to Madam but the touch of fresh
young lips on her cheeks, and of warm, young arms clasping her round the
neck. When she opened her eyes they rested on a meek-looking little
gentlewoman in a white frock, with a blue silk work-bag hanging by long
blue ribbons from her arm.
"Miss Goodchild taught me to make it, Granny, and she said you would like
me to have it; and I have worked you such a pretty linen cover for your
prayer-book; Nancy is going to unpack it after tea. And doesn't Turly look
sweet in his velvet knickers? The pockets of his other things are all gone
in holes with marbles. And oh, Turly, only see what a lovely tea Granny is
going to give us! Honey, jam, brown bread, hot tea-cakes! Turly is so fond
of sweeties, you know, Gran'ma."
"Rather," said Turly, which was the first word he had uttered since he
escaped with his life from the car.
The candles and lamps were now lighted in Granny's handsome sitting-room,
and a huge turf fire burned on the hearth, for it was a wintry evening. The
tea-table had been placed to one side, near Granny's chair, and as Madam
laughed heartily at Terencia's prattle no one could have suggested that the
coming of this bright little creature had been as a nightmare to the old
lady for many weeks past.
But after the children were gone to bed Madam Trimleston said to Nancy:
"I must say a few words to Lally. Ask him to come up here and speak to me."
Very soon heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stair, and Michael
Lally, the coachman, was seen standing in the doorway.
"God bless ye and good evenin' to ye, madam! It's glad I am to see you
lookin' so well, madam."
"Thank you, Lally!" It was hard to begin to find fault after so genial a
greeting. "But I want to ask you a question, Lally. How am I to entrust my
children to your care after what happened this afternoon?"
Lally passed his big hand over the back of his head and looked puzzled,
while a little smile lurked in the corners of his mouth.
"Is it in the regard of Miss Terry dhrivin' home with herself in the car,
madam?" he said. "Sure I declare to your honour, madam, that I won't be
the better of it for this month to come."
"The idea of your letting that child seize the reins--"
"Well now, madam, she didn't. Says she in her coaxin' way: 'Lally,' says
she, 'just let me sit on your seat and hold the reins, and you can be
watchin' me,' says she. 'Sure,' says she, 'many's the time I drove my
pappy,' says she, 'when I was over there in Africa,' says she, 'and he did
used to be delighted with me, seein' me at it,' says she. An' I couldn't
stand her coaxin', and I just pleased her, till all of a suddent she took a
fancy to some moss that was growin' in the dyke. And nothin' would do her
but I was to get down and gather it for her, and the next thing was she had
jaunted off with herself and was lookin' back laughin' at me."
"I know; I know her way," said Madam. "Lally, I intended to give you such a
scolding as you could never forget, but I see it's no use. I can only
implore of you not to give in to Miss Terry's coaxing again, no matter what
the consequences." And then Granny paused, remembering those kisses on her
cheek and those arms round her neck.
"We must try to control her," she said, "or her wild daring will cost us
her life."
"God forbid, madam!" said Lally.
"You have had a long, cold journey to-day. Have you had a good supper,
Lally?"
"Sorra bit could I ate, madam, till I had a word with yourself. But anyhow
I'll go and ate it now."