"Are you going away?"
It was Jack who spoke, and who stood at the door of Captain Willoughby's
room, looking at the half-filled portmanteaus, and the general chaos of
a man's quarters when he is on the point of departure. It was before
breakfast, and being a rainy morning, Jack was wandering about the
passages seeking for some occupation.
Captain Willoughby looked up from his employment. He was vainly trying to
strap a Gladstone bag, and was muttering imprecations under his breath.
"Now then, young shaver, what do you want? You children are always turning
up when you aren't desired. I have to thank your small sister yesterday
for an interruption which proved disastrous!"
Jack edged himself in, and climbed up to the iron foot-rail of the bed,
where he sat swinging his legs.
"Why are you going?"
"You didn't really think I had taken up my quarters here for good and all,
did you?"
Captain Willoughby's tone was distinctly irritable.
"You needn't be waxy," said Jack cheekily. "There's one thing! I know
you'll be back again before long!"
"Shall I?" said the Captain, giving a vicious tug to his straps. "I shall
volunteer to go out to India with the next draft; I'm sick of England."
"Do tell me why you're so cross," said Jack earnestly, clasping his
hands round his knees.
Captain Willoughby had finished his task. He sat down upon his bag with
a sigh of relief.
"There! I shall leave my man to do the rest. The world is an utter
failure, Jack, that's what it is!"
"Is it?" said Jack innocently.
"Yes," went on Captain Willoughby. "And it's the women who are at the
bottom of it. They're all the same--unstable, uncertain, fickle, false,
their moods change from day to day; they make you believe in them, and
take you in all round, and then are quite surprised to see that you are
taken aback by their complete change of tone and mind. It's a bad thing,
my boy, to spend too much time with women. Remember that when you grow up.
You will rue the day you made their acquaintance."
This dissertation was perfectly incomprehensible to Jack. He stared at the
Captain with open eyes and mouth. Then he slipped down from his perch.
"I'm sorry you're so put out," he said. "I suppose you're cross because
you have to go away."
Then he slipped out of the room, and confided to Jill that Captain
Willoughby was awfully cross with everybody in the world, and that she
had better keep out of his way.
The children with their governess occasionally lunched in the dining-room,
when there were no visitors.
Jack looked around on this particular day before he commenced to eat.
"There are five women," he announced; "and I'm the only man. It's a bad
lookout for me!"
"Why?" asked Mona, who had been sitting at the head of the table rather
_distrait_ and silent.
"Because," said Jack slowly, "Captain Willoughby told me this morning
that it is a bad thing to spend too much time with women."
Mona's cheeks flushed a deep crimson. Miss Webb glared at Jack through
her pince-nez, and then Mona laughed outright.
"I'm afraid your lot is cast amongst women for the present, Jack. When
you are Captain Willoughby's age, I advise you to be careful how you
cultivate their society."
"Mona!" said Miss Webb warningly.
"Oh yes," said Mona; "I mean it. And if a woman, Jack, gets tired of your
company, and doesn't like the idea of spending all her life with you,
take yourself off like a man, and don't be talking over your grievances
with everybody you come across!"
Jack said no more. His sister's words were like Captain Willoughby's,
beyond his comprehension.
Jill's walk to the Golden City was a very halting one. When she was
put to bed at night she generally reviewed her path through the day,
and sometimes Bumps was favoured with her confidences.
"I've had an _awful_ day," she admitted one night after a series of
misdemeanours and punishments. "I meant to go as straight as--as a
ruler, and I've gone all crooked. I always mean to behave, but things
happen to make me forget!"
"Yeth," said Bumps a little virtuously. "You forgot when you dressed up
the black cat in Annie's cap and apron that she alwayth goes in the coal
cellar when she's frightened. And when Annie is croth, she's horrid! When
you locked her up here becauth she said she'd tell Miss Falkner, I knew
she'd bang at the door till she brought everybody up-stairs. I tolded
you tho."
"Well," said Jill, sighing; "when Miss Falkner gave me a column of
spelling to learn as a punishment, I did mean to do it; but when I
saw Sam pass through the garden, I just forgot all about it, and all I
thought was that this was the day he got his money, and I must ask him
again about his tenth--of course that was another crooked turn I took;
and when Miss Falkner said she couldn't trust me I think Satan came
up behind and pushed me down as hard as he could. For I don't remember
what I called her! I only know I was in a passion."
"You called her a beatht!" said Bumps in a shocked tone; "and Jack and
I heard you, and Jack said he wouldn't never have called her that!"
"And then I threw the spelling-book in the fire, and then I was sent to
bed," pursued Jill mournfully. "I wonder, Bumps, if you can make up for
one bad day in the next. You see, if I was sent to walk two miles along a
road, and I only did a little bit of a mile, and the rest of the time I
went into crooked lanes and got myself into scrapes, I think the next day
if I ran hard all day, and never stopped to sit down one minute, perhaps I
could do the two miles I didn't do the day before, and two more besides."
"Two and two make four," said Bumps complacently. "Will you try to-morrow,
Jill?"
"I think I will," said Jill. "I don't want to lose a day if I can help it."
The next morning she remembered her resolve, and she added a silent
petition to her morning prayer--
"Oh God, please help me to run hard and very straight to-day. Keep me
from tumbling, and let me make up for yesterday, for Jesus Christ's
sake. Amen."
"Jill is going to be very, _very_ good to-day," said Bumps confidentially
to Jack.
"Is she?" said Jack with interest. "Then I'll ask her to give me those
stamps Captain Willoughby gave her the other day."
Jill was taken aback by this request.
"They are mine, Jack. You know I'm beginning to collect them."
"Yes, but it will be unkind if you don't give them to me, because I want
them. You should try to please others before yourself, that's what Miss
Falkner says."
Jill did not see this.
"I thought you were going to be double good to-day," said crafty Jack.
"Yes," said Jill slowly; "but if you take them it will be unkind and
selfish of you."
"But I'm not trying to be good to-day like you," argued Jack, quite
unabashed.
"But I shall be making it easy for you to be wicked; I shall be helping
you to do an unkind thing."
They were in the thick of their argument when Miss Falkner came into
the room, so they dropped it. Lessons were started, and progressed very
smoothly. At twelve o'clock, when they were dismissed, Jill came to Jack,
and put the stamps into his hand.
"There they are," she said; "but I wouldn't be you for _anything_!"
"I've helped you to be good," said Jack with the greatest satisfaction
as he sat down at the school-room table and began to stick the stamps
into his album at once.
Jill ran out into the garden.
"Come and thwing me!" cried Bumps.
"I can't, Bumps, I must try to do something wonderfully good."
"What will you do?" asked Bumps curiously.
"I don't know; I think I will get the Bible and find out."
As quick in action as in thought, Jill darted into the house and soon
returned with her Bible in her hand. For some minutes she turned over
the leaves of it unsuccessfully, then an under-gardener passed her.
Now this young man was a local chapel preacher, and Jill had heard
some of the servants call him "a shining light." She looked up at
him inquiringly.
"Tom," she said, "what is the very goodest thing to do when you want to
be really good?"
Tom scratched his head.
"'Tis God's Word will tell 'ee, Miss Jill. There be that sayin' of
Apostle James--'Pure religion an' undefiled is to visit the widows and
fatherless in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the
world.' 'Tisn't many that get beyond that!"
"Thank you," said Jill in delight. "Please show me the verse in case I may
forget it."
So Tom took her Bible in his hand and found it for her, then went on
his way; and Jill began to formulate her plans with great rapidity.
"'Unspotted from the world' means, of course, not to tumble down and
dirty my frock on the way to the Golden City. That I'm trying to do hard,
but I haven't visited any widows, and I know there are two or three in
the village. That will be a lovely way of doing good. I will go at once."
But alas for Jill! Mona was calling her to come and pick some flowers
for her.