Another Sunday. The children had been to the little village church in
the morning, and now after their early dinner were discussing plans
for the afternoon in the school-room. It was a lovely day. The French
windows were open, and the green lawn, with its fringe of young larches
and birches at the bottom of it, looked very inviting to the little ones.
This lawn was their special property. It was not so smoothly rolled and
cared for as were the two on which Mona had her croquet and tennis,
but then, when cricket and rounders were as often the order of the day
as anything else, it was not to be expected that its turf would be as
well preserved. It belonged to the children, and their little feet used
it well.
"Shall we be naughty or good?" questioned Bumps anxiously.
Jill screwed up her mouth and nose impatiently.
"Shut up, Bumps; you shouldn't ask such silly questions. Jack and I are
going to be what we like. I don't think we shall want you at all."
"Oh, she can come if she likes," said Jack, "we may want her. We're
going to play a proper Sunday game--one out of the Bible."
Jill looked at her little sister meditatively.
"She would make a good Joseph!"
"Yes," cried Jack, cutting a caper; "and there's the rubbish-pit in the
backyard, she could never climb up without a rope."
"But there's the coat of many colours," said Jill slowly; "we must
have that."
There was silence. Bumps looked slightly uneasy.
"The rubbith-pit is very dirty, and I've got my bestest frock on,"
she ventured.
Jill turned upon her severely.
"You ought to be _thankful_ to be Joseph, Bumps. He was an awfully good
little boy, you can't do wrong if you play at being him. S'posing if
we told you to be Cain, how would you like that?"
"There's my striped red-and-blue jersey," broke in Jack, "we'll dress
her up in that."
"Yes, go and get it quick, and I've got some yellow ribbon that Mona
gave me; we'll twist it round and round, and it will look splendid!"
It was unfortunate, from the children's point of view, that Miss Falkner
should take it into her head to come into the room just when Bumps was
being arrayed in her many-coloured garment. They had taken it for granted
that she would retire to her room for a long afternoon nap, after the
custom of their nurse.
Bumps was quite happy now. She stood on a chair with beaming pride,
whilst Jill wound her yellow ribbon round and round the coloured jersey,
till she looked like some fat wasp.
Jack with his hands in his pockets was watching the proceeding
impatiently.
"Hurry up, Jill--and, I say! we haven't half talked it out. How shall
we manage to dip it in blood, and who's to be old Jacob?"
Jill was never at a loss.
"I'll be Jacob. I can easily be him, and we'll get a can of water, and
one of Mona's red paints--the oil ones in the tubes--I'll soon make
some blood."
Then Miss Falkner spoke.
"I did not mean to leave you so long, chicks, but I was looking in my
box to see if I could find a story-book to read to you. I haven't been
successful, but I thought we would all go out on the lawn and sit under
the trees, and then I would tell you a story!"
The children's faces looked rather blank.
"We're having a game, thank you," said Jill slowly, striving to be polite.
"Why are you making Winnie such a guy? I think we must leave such games
for week-days."
"Oh, but," said Jack eagerly, "this is a Sunday game; we're most
partic'lar to play only Sunday games on Sunday. Mona likes us to."
But Miss Falkner showed a bold front.
"I cannot have it," she said decidedly; "take that jersey off, Winnie,
and come out into the garden with me."
It was Miss Falkner's first Sunday. Her little pupils were still in awe
of her, but their disappointment was great, and they followed her out
into the garden with sullen, angry faces.
Yet when they were settled under a lime-tree with chairs and cushions,
the sweet spring air and sunshine, and the singing of the birds, charmed
their discontent away.
Miss Falkner could tell a story well, and they knew it. Bumps sat
on a cushion at her feet, Jack lay on his back on the grass with
another cushion tucked under his head, and Jill was curled up in a
big wicker-chair sitting on her feet in true tailor fashion, as was
her custom.
"Once upon a time," began Miss Falkner, "there lived two children who
were orphans. They were a boy and a girl named Rufus and Cicely. They
had no one to care for them and love them, for an old uncle with whom
they lived could not bear children, and told them to keep out of his
sight and way as much as possible. They used to spend most of their
time out of doors, and would wander over the country day after day,
taking their dinners in their pockets, and only coming home at bedtime.
One day they went out feeling very unhappy. Their uncle had been very
angry with them, and told them to be gone, and never come back again,
for he was sick and tired of keeping them in his house. They walked on
and on through a wood, and at last came out on the other side to the
banks of a river which they had never seen before. Cicely was tired,
so she sat down on the grass, and Rufus did the same. It was very quiet,
and they soon fell asleep, but after a time they awoke with a start. An
old man with a kind face and a grey beard was speaking to them. He held
a letter in his hand.
"'This is a letter for you, dear children, from a King who loves you,
and wants you to come to Him in His Golden City.'
"'For us?' said Rufus; 'it must be a mistake. No one loves us, no one
wants us.'
"'My Master does. Read His message.'
"Rufus took the letter. His name and Cicely's were written upon it. He
opened it. In golden letters which shone like the sun was written--
"'Come unto Me. Those that seek Me early shall find Me. This is the way,
walk ye in it.'"
Jill sharp eyes were lifted at once to her governess's face.
"That sounds like a text," she said.