"Miss Webb has offered to look after them, but I want her to come abroad
with me, and she cannot do both."
"I suppose you will have to leave them here for their holidays?"
"I see the look in your eyes, Miss Falkner! You think me a selfish wretch
for letting my claims on Miss Webb come first. Perhaps you are like
Mrs. Errington, who at once saw a solution out of the difficulty. 'Take
them to some comfortable farmhouse and look after them yourself!' I
told her I should be worn out in twenty-four hours. I often wonder how
you can stand it!"
"It is my life-work," said Miss Falkner quietly. "But I am so fond of
children that they do not tire me."
"Well," said Mona giving an impatient sigh, "my life-work at present is
to amuse myself. I find it hard work sometimes. But as you won't make
it easy for me to carry off Miss Webb I suppose I must leave her behind."
And so it was settled. Miss Webb resigned herself to her fate. Mona went
to some of her numerous friends, and Miss Falkner took her departure.
The children hovered about her as she packed the day before she went,
and hindered rather than helped her.
"Just tell me what your mother and your home is like," said Jill. "I'm
going to shut my eyes and pretend I see you. Make yourself saying
'How do you do,' to her."
Miss Falkner smiled.
"Shut your eyes then. A narrow street, and a terrace of small houses with
little balconies above. A cab stops at the door, and a young woman--shall
I call her?--hurries up the narrow steps. Some one has been watching at
the door. A gentle, sweet-faced woman with a bright smile and tired body,
comes forward to greet her. Then she takes her to a little upstairs
drawing-room, which is full of sweet-smelling flowers, and a canary
bird and a big tabby cat--both the best of friends--are also waiting
to greet the home-comer. Tea is waiting. A little rosy-cheeked maid brings
the kettle in. The windows are open, but the small balcony is full of
flowers, and the scent and sight of them makes one forget the narrow,
dingy street outside. Can you see my home, Jill? Can you see me sitting
down by my mother's side, and saying, 'No more lessons, and no more
children for six weeks'?"
"Yes," said Jill with tightly closed eyes, "I can see you; but, oh,
Miss Falkner," and here she flung her arms round her governess's neck
as she was stooping to put some things in her travelling trunk, "promise
on your word and honour that you'll come back to us!"
"Indeed I hope to do so, dear."
"And don't, _don't_ like your mother better than us!"
Miss Falkner could not help laughing. When the very thought of her
mother brought a light to her eye and a lump in her throat; when the
anticipation of her mother's kiss and greeting was now the first waking
thought, how could she explain to a motherless child the strong tie
between an only daughter and her mother!
"You must be a good child, Jill, whilst I am away. Let me find you when
I come back steadily going forward towards the Golden City. God will
help you, darling."
Jill nodded soberly.
"And we'll go on filling our bag. And perhaps the mission church will
be built by the time you come back."
Miss Falkner did not damp her hopes. She parted with her little pupils
with sincere regret. Bumps sobbed audibly when she wished her good-bye,
and Jill crept up to her room to have her weep out in secret. Jack
appeared stolidly unconcerned, but when the carriage had taken Miss
Falkner away, he went straight to the stables, a forbidden resort.
"Here, Stokes," he called out to one of the grooms, "I've come out
here because it's so beastly dull, and I don't care who finds me here;
for there isn't a person left in the house that I care about at all!"
For the first few days the children missed their governess very much,
then the delights of the holidays took full possession of them. Miss
Webb was valiantly trying to do her duty. She took them for drives and
for picnics in the woods. She went into the nearest town and bought
them outdoor games and story-books; and if she saw them safely to bed
at the end of the day without any serious mishap having taken place,
she heaved a sigh of relief and said--
"One more day got through safely!"
Jack was her greatest trial. Jill was really trying to be good, but Jack's
spirits were hard to restrain, and whatever he did, and wherever he went,
Bumps was sure to follow.
One afternoon after their early dinner, Miss Webb retired to her room
with a headache. It was a hot, sultry day in August. She left her charges
playing a game of cricket on their lawn, and hoped they would stay there
till tea-time.
Jill was the first one to give up cricket.
"I'm going to write a letter to Miss Falkner," she said. "You go on
playing without me."
"Bumps can't bowl," complained Jack; "she throws the ball up into the
sky as if she's aiming at the sun."
"I'll bat," suggested Bumps cheerfully.
"Yes, and I'll put you out, first bowl. There you are, you little stupid!"
Bumps stared blankly at her wicket, then at Jack.
"What shall we do next?" she inquired.
"We'll have a paper chase," suggested Jack, who was never at a loss.
"And where shall we get the paper?" asked Bumps in great glee at the
prospect.
"Oh, come on into the house. We'll find it somewhere."
Jack was not particular where he got his paper. Miss Webb's waste-paper
basket was first seized, then _The Times_ of the day before and sundry
magazines in the drawing-room, then the library was invaded and various
papers and circulars abstracted from the writing-table.
"I shall be hare, of course," said Jack as he sat down on the floor
with Bumps, and rapidly began to tear his various papers to pieces.
"You must give me ten minutes' start, Bumps, by the clock, and then you
must follow the paper, and never stop till you catch me up."
"You won't go twenty miles away?" said Bumps very anxiously.
"Of course I won't! And get Jill to come with you. It will be much
greater fun if she comes."
Tearing the papers up kept them quiet for a good half-hour, and then
Jack started, first taking off his jacket, and making Bumps promise on
her honour not to look which way he went.
She waited her ten minutes and then went to Jill.
"Jill, do come and be the other hound. Jack has gone, and oh! he has gone
through the thtable, I thee the paper!"
Bumps was too excited to wait. Jill was lying flat on the grass and
hardly turned her head. She murmured, "It's too hot," and went on with
her writing.
The afternoon wore on. Miss Webb was roused by the tea-bell and went
down-stairs congratulating herself upon the quiet behaviour of the
children. She found Jill deep in a storybook.
"Where are the others?" she asked.
"Paper-chasing," said Jill. "Aren't they stupid, this hot afternoon?"
"But I hope they have not gone far?"
"I don't know. The last time I did it, I was the hare, and I climbed a
wall, and fell through a greenhouse the other side, and I was ill for
three weeks; the gardener said I might have killed myself."
This was hardly comforting. Miss Webb looked anxiously out of the window.
"If they do not come soon, we must go and look for them. I hope they
have not gone outside the grounds!"
"Oh, they mayn't be back till bed-time," said Jill.
"You ought not to have let Bumps go," said Miss Webb sharply. "She is far
too small. You ought to have looked after her better!"
Jill did not appear moved in the slightest. She ate her tea and wondered
at Miss Webb's concern; but as time went on, and there was no sign of
the hare or hound, she began to share Miss Webb's anxiety.
"I'll go and look for them."
Out she ran, and Annie was made to accompany her. They followed the
paper down the drive out into the road and across two fields, then it
went through a farm-yard up into a loft, down again, and out at a small
back gate. The farmer's wife came out and said she had seen both the
children, for Bumps had tumbled down in the yard and grazed her knees.
"An' I took her in, an' gave her a piece of plaster, but she were dead
set on following the young gentleman."
After going up the lane and going through another field, Annie said she
could go no further.
"'Tis getting dark, and they'll most like be home by this time. Come
back, Miss Jill. Master Jack ought to be ashamed of himself leading us
this chase!"
So they turned back, but when they came in they found that Miss Webb had
ordered the gardeners and grooms all out, for they had not returned.
Jill's bed-time came. It grew quite dark, and then at last voices were
heard in the hall and Miss Webb rushed out. It was Bumps in the arms
of a big farmer.
"I found her in a ditch," he said; "my mare shied as I were-a-drivin'
home, and I seed somethin' white by the roadside, and then I seed it
were a child. She have hurt her foot, poor little 'un. She must have
failed a-tryin' to get over a fence above!"
"Is she dead?" cried Jill, pressing forward, for Bumps hung a limp and
apparently lifeless bundle over the farmer's arm.
"Bless 'ee, no! Her be faint an' exhausted, but put her to bed an'
she'll be all right in the mornin'. Leastwise if her foot be not injured!"
So poor Bumps was put to bed, and her little swollen foot bathed and
bandaged, and after a good deal of petting and feeding, she was able
to look up and speak.
"It wath my short legs," she said sadly, and somehow or other this old
excuse of hers, which was always brought forward when she had failed
to do what the others did, brought the tears as well as a smile to Miss
Webb's face. Not a word of blame or reproach was uttered. But when she
had dropped into a sound sleep, Miss Webb left her, and her thoughts
were now centred on the missing Jack.
The gardeners and grooms failed to trace him, and returned to the house
between ten and eleven that night without having found any sign of
him. Miss Webb passed a sleepless night, and early in the morning the
search was continued.
But Jill was the first in the field. She got up at six o'clock, and
with determination in her small face, she trotted off following the
paper track.
Over the same ground as the day before she went, but now in the sunshine
it was a different matter, and though in some places the paper had
disappeared, her sharp eyes tracked it out again, and she went on with
renewed vigour.
At last she came to a standstill. The paper was to be seen close to a
private plantation. And then it went no further. Jill climbed a low
fence in spite of a board with "Trespassers will be prosecuted," and
looked in every direction for signs of more paper. But none did she find.
"I'll go through the plantation," she said to herself, "and see where it
leads, for I believe that Jack must have come to an end of his paper."
She followed a little beaten track; and presently with joy saw lying
in a bush a white cotton pillow-case. It had been missing from Jack's
bed the night before and was the bag he carried his paper in. Jill took
it up and found it--as she expected--empty. Then she pressed forward,
and at last came to the other end of the plantation. A deep and rather
wide stream ran between it and a green field, in which there were several
horses grazing. She looked down at the stream, then taking off her shoes
and stockings she boldly splashed across. She was in the act of putting
her stockings on again, when a gruff voice startled her.
"Now here's another of 'em!"
Looking up she encountered the gaze of a stout, red-faced old gentleman.
"Have you seen Jack?" she asked eagerly.
He shook his fist at her.
"Didn't you see my board?" he shouted. "How dare you come on in the
face of it, and disturb my birds! If it isn't poachers, it's children
now-a-days. I hate 'em both!"
"I'm very sorry," said Jill; "but please where is Jack. He has been away
all night, and we can't find him."
"If that impudent boy I caught and thrashed yesterday was Jack, you
had better follow him, and if you aren't quick about it you'll get what
he got!"
He brandished his stick so fiercely, that Jill fled in terror across the
field. Out of a white gate and down a lane she ran, and never stopped
till she reached a small cottage. Here she pulled up and breathlessly
asked a woman if she had seen her brother.
"Were he a small boy with flannel shirt and trousers, and a straw
hat? Then yestere'en 'bout seven o'clock, he came runnin' down the road
an' Mike the tinker were in front with his old cart. I seed the boy speak
to 'im, and then up he climbed, and away they drove, and I'm afeered
that Mike was the worse for drink."
"Where does Mike live?" asked Jill with a sinking heart.
"About four mile from here, but he were a-goin' on his rounds, and his
next stopping-place was at Thornton."
Thornton was the nearest town. Jill knew it well, but it was beyond her
walking powers.
"I can't think why he hasn't come home," she said half crying. "I don't
know what to do."
"Here's some un comin'," said the woman shading her eyes with her
hand. "'Tis a man on a hoss."
Jill looked down the road, and when the rider drew near, she saw to her
intense delight that it was Sir Henry Talbot.
He stopped his horse directly he saw her.
"What!" he said; "another of you straying. Are you still looking for
widows?"
"Oh no," Jill cried; "I'm looking for Jack. He is lost, and I've come
out to find him, and a drunk tinker has driven him away!"
Sir Henry nodded gravely.
"I know all about it," he said; "I've sent Jack home in my carriage."
Jill's face brightened at once.
"Oh, I am so glad; why didn't he come home?"
"He couldn't very well. I was driving home last night from a dinner party
between twelve and one, and I came upon the tinker and Jack under the
cart and horse by the old bridge. It's a wonder they hadn't fallen into
the river. The tinker had his ribs broken, and Jack a nasty cut on
the head, but my housekeeper plastered him up, and he's quite himself
this morning. What scamps you are! How are you going to get home? I think
you had better come up on my horse. He'll carry us both."
So in a very short time Jill returned triumphantly to the house riding
in front of Sir Henry.
Miss Webb saw them from a window and hurried out.
"How can I thank you, Sir Henry? He has arrived safe and sound. I feel
I shall be a white-haired old lady by the time Mona comes back. And
now you've brought Jill home. I do feel so grateful."
"But I haven't been lost," said Jill in an aggrieved tone.
And then she ran indoors to find Jack.