CHAPTER I.

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FERNLEY HOUSE

BOOKS FOR GIRLS

By Laura E. Richards

_The_ MARGARET SERIES

Three Margarets

Margaret Montfort

Peggy

Rita

Fernley House

_The_ HILDEGARDE SERIES

Queen Hildegarde

Hildegarde's Holiday

Hildegarde's Home

Hildegarde's Neighbors

Hildegarde's Harvest

DANA ESTES & COMPANY

Publishers

Estes Press, Summer St., Boston

[Illustration: "HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY, WERE

ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY."]

FERNLEY HOUSE

BY

LAURA E. RICHARDS

AUTHOR OF "CAPTAIN JANUARY," "MELODY," "QUEEN HILDEGARDE," "GEOFFREY

STRONG," ETC.

Illustrated by

ETHELDRED B. BARRY

[Illustration]

BOSTON

DANA ESTES & COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

_Copyright, 1901_

BY DANA ESTES & COMPANY

_All rights reserved_

FERNLEY HOUSE

Colonial Press

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.

Boston, Mass., U.S.A.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. A DUET 11

II. MRS. PEYTON'S COMPANION 23

III. AN ARRIVAL 33

IV. UNCLE JOHN'S IDEA 46

V. A VISION 58

VI. ALI BABA 70

VII. MORE ARRIVALS 86

VIII. HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF 100

IX. ABOUT NOTHING IN PARTICULAR 114

X. GRACE'S SYSTEM 128

XI. THE MYSTERIES OF FERNLEY 143

XII. THE EGG OF COLUMBUS 161

XIII. IN THE TWILIGHT 168

XIV. THE FIRE 183

XV. JEWELS: AND AN AWAKENING 195

XVI. FOR AULD LANG SYNE 205

XVII. IN THE GARDEN 217

XVIII. UNCLE JOHN'S BIRTHDAY 225

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

"HUGH AND MARGARET, ALL UNCONSCIOUS OF HER SCRUTINY,

WERE ENJOYING THEMSELVES EXTREMELY" _Frontispiece_

"MARGARET DID THE HONORS, STILL FEELING VERY SHY" 29

"AT THIS MOMENT POLLY APPEARED, RED-CHEEKED AND BREATHLESS" 33

"SHE WAS A SLENDERER PEGGY, WITH THE SAME BLUE, HONEST EYES" 86

"SHE LOOKED UP, AND SAW GRACE SITTING ON A BROAD, LOW BRANCH" 137

"ON THE SECOND LANDING THEY PAUSED TO SALUTE THE OLD PORTRAITS" 148

"A TALL, SLENDER FIGURE HALF RAN, HALF TOTTERED INTO THE ROOM" 181

"'I PROPOSE . . . THE HEALTH OF THE BEST MAN . . . THAT LIVES

UPON THIS EARTH TO-DAY; . . . THE HEALTH OF MY UNCLE JOHN!'" 238

FERNLEY HOUSE

CHAPTER I.

A DUET

"Well, Margaret!"

"Well, Uncle John!"

"Not a word to throw at a dog, as Rosalind says?"

"You are not a dog, Uncle John. Besides, you know all about it without

my saying a word, so why should I be silly, and spoil your comfortable

cigar? Dear children! They will have a delightful time, I hope; and of

course it is perfectly right that they should go to their father when he

wants them; and--the summer will pass quickly."

"Very quickly!" Mr. Montfort assented, watching his smoke rings float

upward.

"And Peggy is coming; and--oh, we shall be all right, of course we

shall; only--we do miss them, don't we, Uncle?"

"I should think we did! A house is a poor place without children; and we

flatter ourselves that our two--eh, Margaret?"

"Oh, they are the dearest children in the world," said Margaret with

conviction. "There is no possible doubt about that."

She sighed, and took up her work; Mr. Montfort blew smoke rings and

watched them melt into the air. There was an interval of sympathetic

silence.

The children, Basil and Susan D., Margaret's cousins, had hardly been

gone two hours, yet the time seemed already long to Margaret Montfort.

Fernley House, which only this morning had been so running over with joy

and sunlight, and happy noise and bustle, seemed suddenly to have become

a great empty barrack, full of nothing but silence. Margaret, after

putting away, sadly enough, the things that the children had left about,

had been glad to join her uncle on the pleasant back verandah that

overlooked the garden.

Fernley was in the full glory of early summer. The leaves were still

young, and too soft to rustle in the gently moving air; the laburnums

and honey-locusts were in blossom, and the bees came and went,

heavy-laden. The sombre, trailing branches of the great Norway spruces

touched the smooth green turf, starred here and there with English

daisies. Farther back, the tulip-trees towered stately, and the elm

branches swept the crest of the tall box hedges.

Margaret's eyes kept wandering from her work. How could she stitch, when

things were looking like this? There was the oriole, swinging on the

bough beside his nest, pouring out his song, "Joy! joy! joy!" The eggs

might be hatched to-day. Basil had begged her to promise that she would

let neither cat nor squirrel meddle with the young birds. What should

she do, if she saw a cat up there, forty feet from the ground? Dear

Basil! he never could understand why she could not climb trees as well

as he and Susan D. Dear Basil! dearest of boys! how nice he looked in

his new blue suit; and who would mend the first "barndoor" that he tore

in jacket or trousers?

And little Susan D.! the warm clasp of her arms seemed still about

Margaret's neck, in that last strangling hug of parting. She had grown

so dear, the little silent child! "I will be good," she whispered.

"Cousin Margaret, I will try not to die without you, and I will remember

the things you told me about papa; but don't make me stay very long,

because I haven't got enough goodness to last very long, you know I

haven't."

Margaret was roused from her reverie by her uncle's voice.

"When did you say Peggy was coming, my dear?"

"Next week, Uncle John. School closes on the eighteenth. Dear little

Peggy! think of her being a senior! it seems hardly possible. She is

afraid I shall tell her to put her hair up; I certainly shall not, at

least while she is here. I am sure you prefer the pigtail, don't you,

Uncle John?"

"Yes! oh, yes!" said Mr. Montfort, abstractedly. "Pigtail--yes, by all

means. And how will you and Peggy amuse yourselves, my dear? No Rita

this summer to electrify us all. You will not find it dull?"

"Dull, Uncle John? how could Fernley possibly be dull? Why, Peggy and I

are going to be as happy as possible. I have all kinds of plans made.

You see, it is time Peggy was learning something about housekeeping and

that sort of thing, and I thought this summer would be the very best

time to show her a little. Of course, when she is at home, she wants to

be doing twenty thousand things on the farm, just as she always has

done, and the time goes so quickly, she has not begun to think yet about

the indoor things; so I am going to be the Humdrum-major, Uncle, and

give her some lessons; if you approve, that is."

"Highly, my dear, highly. Every woman should be able to take care of her

own house, and the only way for her to learn is to begin upon some one

else's. I should think Peggy might make a vigorous little housekeeper,

if a chaotic one. Don't let her loose in the library, Margaret, that is

my only prayer."

"Uncle John, I really do believe that you think housekeeping consists

entirely in dusting and setting things to wrongs, as you call it."

"Well, my love, I confess that has always seemed to me a prime element

in the art. But I also confess my ignorance, and the depth and darkness

thereof. Am I humble enough? Now I must go and take the puppies for an

airing. Till dinner-time, May Margaret!"

Mr. Montfort strolled away, and Margaret bent with renewed energy over

her work, giving herself a little shake as she did so. Her uncle's words

still sounded in her ears: "You will not find it dull?" She had answered

out of the fulness of her heart, thinking it impossible that dulness

should come where Uncle John was, especially as he happened to be at

Fernley House, the most enchanting place in the world. Yet--and yet--it

was going to be very, very different, of course, from the life of the

past year, so filled full and running over with delight. It was not only

that she missed the children; it was that in the care of them, the

watching over the growing bodies and the eager minds, she was learning

so much herself, feeling the world grow, almost hourly, bigger and

brighter and sweeter. The mother-nature was strong in Margaret Montfort,

and the children were bringing out all that was best and strongest in

her. Well, she must do without that now for awhile; and there was no

doubt that the prospect seemed a little flat, even with Peggy to

brighten it. Dear Peggy! Margaret loved her fondly; but she was so grown

up now, so strong herself, so helpful and self-reliant, that there was

no question of taking care of her any more. "Why, she knows twenty times

as much as I do," said Margaret, "about most things, except history. I

don't suppose she will ever remember the difference between Mary Stuart

and Mary Tudor. But, foolish creature," cried Margaret to herself, "what

have you just been saying to Uncle John? Here is all the world of

housekeeping, about which Peggy knows little or nothing, and which,

thanks to Elizabeth and Frances, you do begin to understand a little. Is

it a small thing, I ask you, to teach the qualities and fine shades of

damask, and the high-lights of huckaback? or the different cuts of meat,

and when what is in season? I am ashamed of you, Margaret Montfort! And

then there are the puppies, too! Don't let me hear another word of

dulness from you, miss, do you hear? Perhaps you would like to be

weaving cotton in a factory this heavenly day, or selling yards of hot

stuffs in a shop? Go away!" and Margaret shook her head severely, and

was surprised at herself.

The puppies were two fine young setters, Nip and Tuck by name, which the

wise uncle had bought on purpose to soften the blow of the parting with

the children. Margaret had never known dogs before, and though Messrs.

Nip and Tuck were being strictly trained, and had to spend much of their

time in the stable-yard, she still had many a pleasant half-hour with

them, when her uncle took them for a run over hill and dale, or gave

them a lesson in the garden. Her one anxiety was lest they should meet

the Queen of Sheba, her great Angora cat, and there should be trouble;

for the Queen was a person of decided temper. Margaret had taken

infinite pains, ever since the arrival of the puppies, to keep them out

of one another's sight; but Mr. Montfort warned her that she was merely

putting off the inevitable, and that the day must come when cat and dogs

should meet.

It seemed a little hard that this meeting must take place when the

master was not present; but the finger of Fate pointed, and at this very

moment, while Margaret was sitting with her peaceful thoughts, Michael,

the stable-boy, chanced to drop the leash in which he was leading the

puppies to their master. Three minutes later, Nip and Tuck were

careering wildly around Margaret, leaping on her with frantic caresses,

and talking both at once, and very loud, as dear dogs will sometimes do.

"Down, Nip!" cried Margaret. "Tucky, do behave yourself. Now, boys,

however did you get away? Charge, do, like dear boys, and wait for the

master; he will be here in a minute."

Nip and Tuck explained breathlessly that they had just got out by the

luckiest chance in the world, that they loved her to distraction, and

that, upon the whole, they preferred her society to that of any one else

in the world, if only she would let them lick her nose. This Margaret

firmly refused to do, and they lay down panting for a moment, but only

for a moment. Again the finger of Fate pointed; and so it came to pass

that as Mr. Montfort came round one corner in search of his run-aways,

the Queen of Sheba came round the other. There seemed but one white

flash as the two puppies, recognizing their destiny on the instant, flew

to meet it, yelling like demons of the pit.

"Oh, Uncle John!" cried Margaret, starting up in distress. "My poor

Queen! my poor Sheba! they will--"

"I wouldn't worry, Margaret," said Mr. Montfort. "Sheba can take care of

herself, if I am not greatly mistaken."

The great cat stiffened herself into a bristling bow, and waited the

charge with gleaming eyes. The dogs' frenzied rush carried them within a

foot of her whiskers, and there they stopped. This was not what they had

looked for. They had seen cats before, and had chased them, with

infinite joy; their mother had taught them that cats were made to be

chased, with a special eye to the healthful amusement of good little

dogs. But this furry, glaring creature, radiating power and

menace,--could this be a cat?

Nip and Tuck put their heads on one side and considered. The Queen of

Sheba advanced one step, slowly; the puppies retired, too, and sat down,

wagging their tails. Perhaps, after all, it was a kind of dog; their

minds were cheerfully open to new impressions, and they were full of

good will toward all creation. Perceiving their innocence, the Queen of

Sheba, who had seen many generations of puppies, lowered her warlike

arch, and, sitting down opposite them, proceeded to wash herself

elaborately. Nip and Tuck looked on with open-mouthed admiration.

Presently Tuck, who was a bold dog, gave a short bark of decision, and,

stepping forward, began with infinite politeness to assist in the

washing. Sheba received the attention with regal condescension. Five

minutes later, all three walked off together, rubbing sides cordially,

and presumably in quest of rats.

Margaret drew a long breath. "Did you ever see anything like that?" she

cried. "Look, Uncle John; they are talking to one another; you can

almost hear the words. Isn't it wonderful?"

"Very pretty," said Mr. Montfort. "Now they'll be friends for life,

you'll see. Sheba will be of great assistance in their education. It

takes an intelligent cat to understand puppies, and Sheba is a

remarkably intelligent cat. Well, May Margaret, and now shall we take

our four-legged children for a walk?"

"Oh, Uncle John, I was so afraid you were not going to ask me! Will you

wait just half a minute while I get my hat? and on the way back I will

stop and see Mrs. Peyton. I have not been there since the dogs came or

the children went, and I ought to be ashamed."

Margaret ran up-stairs lightly, saying to herself as she ran, "Dull,

with that man? and Peggy and the puppies beside? Margaret Montfort, I

_am_ ashamed of you!"

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