KITTY TRENIRE
by
MABEL QUILLER-COUCH
CONTENTS.
I. Fate and a Rusty Nail.
II. The News, and how they received it.
III. A Drive and a Slice of Cake.
IV. Storms at Home and Abroad
V. In Wenmere Woods.
VI. Tea at the Farm.
VII. The "Rover" takes them Home.
VIII. A Bad Beginning.
IX. The Coming of Anna.
X. Lessons, Alarms, and Warnings.
XI. Poor Kitty!
XII. Those Dreadful Stockings.
XIII. An Exciting Night.
XIV. Mokus and Carrots
XV. Missing!
XVI. Banished.
XVII. "Good in Everything".
XVIII. Threatening Clouds.
XIX. Betty's Escapade.
XX. Kitty's Hands are Full.
XXI. The Last.
CHAPTER I.
FATE AND A RUSTY NAIL.
On such an afternoon, when all the rest of the world lay in the fierce
glare of the scorching sun, who could blame the children for choosing to
perch themselves on the old garden wall, where it was so cool, and
shady, and enticing? And who, as Kitty often asked tragically in the
days and weeks that followed, could have known that by doing so "they
were altering their fates for ever"?
The four of them talked a great deal in those days of their "fates;"
it sounded so mysterious and grand, and so interesting too, for, of
course, no one could know what lay in store for them all, and the most
wonderful and surprising events might happen. They did happen to some
people, and why not to them?
"I am quite sure something will happen to me some day," said Betty, with
a very wise and serious look.
"I shouldn't be surprised," said Dan with mock seriousness,
"if something did."
"I mean something wonderful, of course," added Betty. "Don't," with a
superior air, "be silly, Dan. Things must happen to somebody, or there
would never be any."
Later that same day they realized for the first time that small events
could be interesting and important too, and that while they were
thinking of their "fates" as something to be spun and woven in the
mysterious future, the shuttle was already flying fast.
As I said before, the old wall was particularly cool and
tempting-looking that sunny afternoon, for the high, untrimmed laurel
hedge on the other side of the path behind them threw a deep broad
shadow over the flat top of it, and shade was what one appreciated most
on that hot day. All the ground in Gorlay sloped, for Gorlay was built
on two hills, while the gardens of all the houses on either side sloped
either up or down another and a steeper hill. Dr. Trenire's house was
on the left-hand side of the street, as one walked up it, and it was the
steep slope up of the garden behind it that made the old wall so
fascinating.
To reach the garden from the house one had to pass through a cobbled
yard, with the back wing of the house and a stable on one side of it,
and a coach-house and another stable on the other. The garden and the
garden wall were at the end. From the yard the wall ran up to a good
height--to the children it seemed immense, as high as the tower of
Babel, though were they to go back now and look at it I dare say they
would find it quite insignificant, for walls have a curious way of
decreasing an inch or two with every year one grows older.
To the children, though, its two chief charms were that it had a broad
flat top on which one could sit and dangle one's legs over the abyss
below, and that from the garden it was so low that by just walking over
a flower-bed one could step right on to it, while from that eminence one
could command a view of the back door, the side door, the stables, and
all that went on in the yard. So that, in addition to being cool and
shady, it really was a most attractive and alluring spot.
A vine with a wealth of pretty leaves and long graceful tendrils covered
the front of the stable and side of the house, and some years there
would be a few bunches of little green grapes hanging amongst the
leaves. Through the open stable window, festooned by the vine, dear old
Prue, Dr. Trenire's well-beloved and faithful mare, would thrust out her
head and gaze dreamily at the life in the yard, or at nothing; and the
children, if they were about, would rub her nose and fondle her
lovingly, and bring her handfuls of grass, or carrots, or sugar.
Sometimes, too, "Pinkie," the yellow cat, would seat herself on the
narrow sill of the stable window, close to Prue's cheek, until, finding
the air too chilly, or the children too noisy, or sleep overcoming her,
she would go inside and curl herself up on Prue's back for a nap.
To-day, though, neither Prue nor Pinkie were to be seen.
Apparently they were both indulging in an afternoon nap in the shady
stable, for it really was a very hot day, and the sun fell full on the
vine and the stable window.
Unfortunately it fell on the door too, and showed up a most inviting and
enticing-looking spot where the sun had once raised a blister on the
paint.
Every one will admit that there is a wonderful fascination about a nice
soft paint-blister, and busy fingers had quickly peeled this one off,
with the result that to-day there was a spot which made as good a target
as any one could possibly desire, and just within range of their perch
on the wall. There was also, unfortunately, quite close at hand a
supply of perfect ammunition in the shape of a heap of small stones and
rubbish which they had swept together a few days before when seized by a
sudden mania for tidying up the garden. Of course, had they been really
good children, they would have finished their job by shovelling up the
heap and carrying it away; but they grew very tired, and the work was
hard, and they felt they really had done a great deal for one day.
So the heap was left in the path until, on this hot afternoon, they
found a new and not at all tiring way of disposing of most of it.
They kept up such a sharp fire, and made such a noise, that presently
Jabez, the coachman and general factotum, was dancing with rage in the
yard below--rage at the noise they were making and the litter he foresaw
he would have to sweep up before "the master" saw the place, and added
rage at the calm unconcern with which they ignored his commands.
The children, though really very much attached to Jabez, unfortunately
felt no fear of him, and above all things they loved to tease him.
They would not willingly have hurt him on any account whatever, but, as
they said afterwards, when he deliberately placed himself between them
and their target, and dared them to throw another stone, why of course
he had to put up with what he got; and what he got most particularly was
a nasty blow on the forehead from a piece of old wood that Dan threw at
him.
Dan, as he explained at the time, really selected the wood out of pure
humanity, because he thought it would be softer than a stone if it
should happen to strike any one; and, as he argued emphatically,
"it was ridiculous to think he could have known that Jabez was going to
duck his silly head at the very wrong moment, and it was even more
ridiculous of Jabez to accuse him of knowing that there was a large
rusty nail in the wood, for Jabez knew as well as possible that he, Dan,
would have been only too jolly glad to have had the nail, for he was
collecting old iron as hard as he could, intending to sell it the very
next time the 'old-iron' man came round."
Instead of which it was taken by Jabez, along with his bleeding head,
straight into the presence of Dr. Trenire, who happened at the moment to
be sitting in his study, trying to get a little sorely-needed rest.
The doctor had been out all the previous night at a most trying case,
and body and brain were weary, his nerves all on edge, his patience
nearly exhausted, and he had no time or inclination for unpleasant
interruptions and unnecessary worries. Altogether there could not have
been a much more unpropitious moment for any one to have gone to him
than that which Jabez chose.
As a rule Dr. Trenire was only too gentle and kind and patient with his
four motherless children; but to-day, when they slowly, and at a
discreet distance, followed Jabez into the study, Kitty felt a sudden
conviction that things were not going to be quite as simply and easily
got over as usual. She saw a look cross her father's face such as she
had never seen on it before, and for the first time in her careless,
happy-go-lucky life realized with keen compunction what a sad, tired,
patient face it was, and suddenly she found herself wanting to do things
for him to try to cheer and help him, and wished most heartily that they
had done anything but bring fresh worry and unpleasantness to him.
But before he inquired into the particulars of the squabble, Dr. Trenire
attended to the wound. It was only a surface one, but the skin was torn
rather badly, and Jabez was bleeding a good deal, and groaning with all
his might.
"Get me some hot water."
Only too glad to be able to do anything to help, Kitty ran off; but to
run for hot water was one thing, to get it was quite another. The fire
was out, the kitchen was littered with dishes and pots and pans, and
Fanny the cook, with a dirty apron on and no cap, was fast asleep in her
chair by the window, just as though she had not a care or a duty in the
world. The squalor and muddle of the whole place could not fail to
strike any one, even casual Kitty; and to her it brought a deeper
feeling, one of trouble and remorse, for, in response to her own
pleading, her father had made her his housekeeper--and this was how she
had fulfilled her duties! In fact, she had given herself no duties; she
had shirked them. She had left everything to the servants, and as long
as she had been free and untroubled, and meals of a kind had been served
at more or less regular intervals, had bothered no further.
"Fanny!" she called sharply, "do wake up! Why haven't you got a fire,
and a kettle boiling?"
Fanny awoke with a start, which in itself is enough to make a person
cross; and to have been caught asleep, with her work not done, made her
crosser. "I don't want a great fire burning on a hot afternoon like
this," she answered sharply. "You wouldn't like it yourself if you had
to sit by it, Miss Kitty; and if it's your tea you'm wanting, well, it
isn't tea-time yet. When 'tis, you will find 'tis ready."
"Um--m!" said Kitty loftily, in a tone that expressed most emphatic
doubt of Fanny's statement.
"What is it you're routing about in the cupboards for, miss? I don't
like to have folks coming into my kitchen, turning everything over and
rummaging round. I shan't know where to find a thing when I wants to.
What is it you'm looking for?"
"The methylated spirit and the little stove," said Kitty. "I _must_
have some hot water, Fanny, and quickly. Father wants some. There has
been an accident."
Fanny changed her tone, and her expression grew a little milder.
"We haven't got a leak, miss. We ran out of it a week ago. I told
Emily to tell you--but there, I might as well talk to the wind as talk
to her--"
"Oh dear," interrupted Kitty, "whatever shall I do? Jabez is bleeding
so he will bleed to death--"
"Jabez! Oh my! Whatever has happened, Miss Kitty?" Suddenly Fanny's
whole manner changed to one of anxious eagerness and deep concern.
"Is it--is it dangerous, miss? How did it happen? What's he done?"
Fanny had been so sound asleep that she had not noticed the noise in the
yard, or the little procession pass the kitchen window on its way to the
study.
"I don't think it is very bad," said Kitty. "Dan threw a piece of wood,
and it--it hit Jabez on the forehead, and--and oh, Fanny, what will
father think? I believe he is angry with us already, and you know he
was out all night and is very tired, and he will be more angry if
there's no hot water or anything he wants, and I--I did so want to help
him."
Fanny, who appeared more concerned about Jabez than about her master,
was, with a lavish use of sticks, kindling a big blaze under a small
kettle, and soon had water ready as hot as it was needed. Kitty,
greatly relieved, ran back with it to her father.
"I suppose, as usual, there was none," he said gravely, "though I have
said until I am tired that in a doctor's house there should always be a
supply;" and Kitty could find nothing to say.
Jabez by this time was seated in a chair, facing the light. He was
looking very pale and subdued. The thought of having his wound
washed and dressed upset him far more than did the wound itself.
Betty and Anthony were sitting on two of the stiffest and most
uncomfortable-looking chairs in the room, with very grave expressions
on their pale but not too clean faces. Dan was standing by the window
looking intensely nervous and uncomfortable. He glanced frequently from
Jabez to his father, and back again, and Kitty could see he was longing
to say something, but did not know how to. She was very sorry that it
had been Dan who had dealt the fatal blow. She almost wished that it
had been she herself who had done it, for their father was never quite
so severe with her or Betty as with the boys.
With the feeling still on her that trouble was coming, she fried to make
herself as useful as possible; but as she knew little or nothing as to
where anything was kept, she was more of a hindrance than a help, and
her hopes were blighted by her father's order to them all to leave the
room.
"I will see you presently," he said sternly. "I will either come to you
or send for you when I am ready;" and, feeling very crushed, they made
their way to the old nursery, now called "the schoolroom," and there
waited with curiously mingled feelings for what was to happen next.
They did not expect it to be anything _very_ serious; but they hated to
vex their father, and they felt that now they really had vexed him.
Oh how slowly the minutes passed, and what a lot of them there were!
It seemed to them that time enough had elapsed in which to have set
every limb that Jabez possessed, and to hear the recital of every wrong
he had ever received at their hands; and by the time they heard their
father's footstep coming their hopes and fears had gone up and down
again many times, and they had pictured themselves sentenced to every
possible and impossible punishment that their minds could imagine.