PRESENTS FROM BOSCOMBE
"HOW happy Muriel looks, and how much she appears to like her
stepmother! I am sure I hope they will continue on such good terms with
each other."
The speaker was Miss Pamela Holcroft, as she sat at breakfast with her
sister, and niece, and Molly Jenkins.
Several days had passed since the unexpected arrival of Mr. Wake and
his bride. The couple still lingered at Boscombe, though they talked of
leaving shortly.
"I daresay they will be good friends," Miss Holcroft responded. "I like
Mrs. Wake, don't you, Pamela?"
"Yes; she seems a sensible young woman. I had a long chat with her on
the beach yesterday, and she talked a great deal of Muriel. I believe
she means to do her duty to the child; I think, too, she realises she
has been neglected at home."
"Poor Marigold has been rather overlooked by her friend of late, I
fear," Miss Holcroft said. "I hope you are not jealous, my dear?"
turning a smiling glance on her little niece.
"No, indeed! I am so glad Muriel likes Mrs. Wake."
"I confess I am rather surprised that she does," Miss Pamela remarked.
"I should have thought a stepmother would have aroused her jealousy at
once."
"Ah, but you see she never knew her own mother," Miss Holcroft
interposed; "and I don't think she is fond enough of her father to fear
being supplanted in his affections by another person. It may be that
through the stepmother, father and child will be drawn closer together.
Mrs. Wake told me she should try to persuade her husband not to remain
abroad long; we shall see if she has sufficient influence over him to
obtain her desire. He has been a rolling stone for so many years that
it will be difficult for him to settle down quietly at home."
"He seems a very nice gentleman," Molly put in, in her gentle tones.
"He talked to me for quite a long while yesterday, and helped me across
the rough ridge of pebbles on the beach."
"Muriel says she thinks he's nicer now he's married," Marigold said
eagerly. "She never saw so much of him before as she has during these
last few days. How strange that is!"
"I think it was a wise step his marrying before telling her anything
about it, as it turns out," Miss Holcroft said reflectively. "If he had
told her she was to have a stepmother, she would doubtless have formed
a prejudice against Mrs. Wake that she might never have overcome."
Miss Pamela sat silent. She was thinking of the prejudice she had
entertained for so many years against Marigold's mother; lately she had
known how unjust it had been.
A few days later, Mr. and Mrs. Wake left Boscombe, much to the regret
of Muriel, who had made many enjoyable excursions with them to Bude,
and other places in the neighbourhood. On one occasion they had gone
to Tintagel, to visit King Arthur's Castle, taking Marigold and Molly
Jenkins with them, as well as Muriel. That had been a treat for the
lame girl, the remembrance of which lived in her memory for many a year
afterwards; and Miss Holcroft and Miss Pamela had been very pleased
that the Wakes had invited their visitor as well as their little niece.
It had been arranged that Mrs. Jones and Muriel should travel back to
Exeter with Miss Holcroft's party; and the day had been fixed for their
departure.
Marigold was now considering what she should take back to her friends,
and the servants at home, as she was beginning to call her aunts'
house in Powderham Crescent. She spent much time outside the village
shop, peering at the shelf that was labelled "Useful Presents," and
after careful thought made her purchases. She bought china ornaments
with views of Boscombe printed on them for the servants; an elaborate
shell-box, with a little looking-glass at the back of the cover, for
Mrs. Barker; and photographs of different well-known places of interest
in the district for several of her girl friends.
"I wish I could send mother something," she thought. "I was never able
to give her a present in my life; and now I have plenty of money, only
I don't know if Aunt Pamela would mind—"
Her reflections came to an abrupt conclusion. She was standing outside
the shop, and her quick eye had caught sight of a little old-fashioned
blue china teapot that was the very thing her mother would admire, she
felt certain.
She pushed open the shop door and went in. The woman behind the
counter, Mrs. Treffry by name, greeted her with a smile, for she knew
Marigold very well, having constantly seen her during the last few
weeks.
"Good-morning, Mrs. Treffry," the little girl said briskly. "I want you
to allow me to look at that small blue teapot you have in the window,
if you please."
"Certainly, miss."
Mrs. Treffry fetched it, and placed it on the counter, remarking as she
did so—
"It's a bit of old-fashioned china, miss, and very good, I'm told."
"What is the price?" Marigold inquired.
"A guinea, miss."
"A guinea!" in astonished accents. "Oh, then I cannot afford to buy it.
I did not know it was worth so much money as that. I thought it was
very pretty, and so it is, but it is far too expensive."
"You see, miss, it's like this," Mrs. Treffry explained: "that teapot
belonged to an old maiden lady who lived at Boscombe some years ago.
When she died her household goods were all sold by auction, and I
bought that little teapot for eighteenpence, and thought I had given
money enough for it too! But a few weeks ago a young gentleman came
into my shop here, and asked if I could make him a cup of tea, which
I did, making it in that teapot, miss. 'Hullos!' said he, as soon as
he'd clapped eyes upon it, 'that's a good bit of china you've got
there!' 'It's pretty ain't it?' said I. 'Pretty!' he cried out, 'why,
any dealer in old china would give you a guinea for it!' That surprised
me, but I didn't tell him so; instead, I said, 'You shall have it for
that price, sir.' But he shook his head, saying he was a poor chap who
couldn't afford to spend his money on an old-fashioned teapot like
mine when a common brown earthenware one would answer his purpose as
well, though he knew a bit of rare china when he saw it, and could
tell what it was worth. 'Now mind you don't sell that teapot for less
than a guinea!' were his parting words to me, and I made up my mind I
wouldn't."
"Fancy its being so valuable!" Marigold exclaimed, her disappointment
plainly visible both in her face and voice.
"I thought if I put it in the window it might catch the eye of some
visitor who knew something about old china," Mrs. Treffry continued. "I
must own I don't see the worth of a guinea in the teapot myself, but
seeing it is worth that, I shouldn't be justified in selling it for
less."
"No, no!" Marigold readily agreed.
"Can't I show you anything else to-day, miss?"
"No, I think not, thank you, Mrs. Treffry. I am sorry to have troubled
you to take the teapot from the window."
"Oh, it has been no trouble, I'm sure, miss."
Marigold was turning away when the door opened, and her Aunt Pamela
entered the shop. She glanced inquiringly from her niece to the teapot
which Mrs. Treffry held in her hand. Marigold's colour rose, as it
usually did on the slightest emotion from whatever cause, whilst Mrs.
Treffry began to explain the situation in her usually wordy manner.
"You have excellent taste, Marigold," Miss Pamela said, smiling, when
Mrs. Treffry had concluded speaking, which was not for some minutes,
as she had again recounted the story of the young man who had advised
her of the teapot's value. "This is a charming piece of old-fashioned
china, and well worth a guinea, I'm sure."
"I daresay it is, Aunt Pamela; but I did not think it would be more
than a few shillings."
"Why did you want it? Was it your intention to make a present of it to
someone?"
"Yes—" with a slight hesitation in her manner; adding in a lower tone,
"I—I wanted to give it to mother."
Miss Pamela turned abruptly away, and a stab of jealousy shot through
her heart, for it had occurred to her that her little niece might have
wished to present the teapot to her aunts.
"Will you let me examine it?" she said to Mrs. Treffry, who willingly
complied.
Miss Pamela scrutinised the teapot carefully. "There's not a chip or a
crack anywhere," Mrs. Treffry assured her.
"I see there is not. If we purchase it from you, have you a box we
could pack it in?"
After a few minutes' search the shopkeeper discovered a wooden box
beneath a heap of odds and ends under the counter, which proved to be
just the right size.
"That will do capitally," Miss Pamela said. "We will certainly have the
teapot, Mrs. Treffry, if you can pack it for us. We want to send it to
London. I suppose it would go by parcel post?"
"Oh yes, ma'am."
Mrs. Treffry fetched some shavings, and packed the teapot so carefully
that it could not possibly smash, then she fastened down the lid of the
box, put a clean sheet of brown paper outside, and tied it securely
with strong cord. After that, Miss Pamela asked for a label, and
requested Marigold to address it to her mother. This the little girl
accordingly did, and after seeing the package stamped, and paying Mrs.
Treffry, aunt and niece left the shop together.
"Aunt Pamela!" cried Marigold, her voice trembling with excitement,
"how can I thank you? Oh, how delighted mother will be!"
"She will recognise your handwriting on the label, will she not?"
"Oh yes! Thank you so much, Aunt Pamela! You cannot guess how pleased I
am! What will mother say when the box arrives, I wonder? Oh, I should
like to be able to see her face when she catches sight of the teapot!"
"She will write and tell you what she thinks of your present, I expect."
"Oh yes! Isn't it a lovely little teapot? I was so disappointed when
I found I had not enough money to buy it! I have five shillings; and
please, Aunt Pamela, you'll let me pay you that, won't you?"
"You will probably want it for something else, Marigold."
"No. I should like you to take the money, please, if you do not mind,
for then it will seem more like my present to mother, won't it?"
"Very well. You need not mention to her that I paid anything towards
it; do you understand, child?"
"I will not tell her if you don't wish it, Aunt Pamela. Let me see; she
will get it to-morrow, and if she writes at once, I shall have a letter
from her the day after."
Marigold was right in her surmise, for two days later came the expected
letter. Mrs. Holcroft told what a surprise Marigold's present had been
to her, and how much she liked and admired it. Then she went on to say
that the boys had returned from Hastings set up in health, and looking
as brown as berries, after a most enjoyable visit. "I shall never be
able to properly thank all those who are so good to my dear children,"
she wrote, "but I am sure God will bless them! Oh, Marigold, if your
father could but know! Perhaps he does."
Marigold showed her mother's letter to Miss Pamela, who read it in
silence, and returned it without a word.
"Mother is very pleased, isn't she?" Marigold said timidly.
"Evidently. I am glad your brothers have benefited by their change."
"Yes," the little girl answered happily. "So am I!"
A few days later the pleasant summer holiday was at an end; and the
lodgings at No. 5 and No. 8 Alma Terrace were vacant.
Marigold gave her presents to the servants on the night of her return
home; and next day she paid a visit to Mrs. Barker, who received her
with evident pleasure. Marigold presented her with the shell-box, and
was pleased to see she was delighted with it.
"I wanted to bring you something from Boscombe," the little girl said,
glad to see she had selected an article that evidently met with the old
woman's approval, "and I thought this little box would be useful."
"Very useful," Mrs. Barker agreed, with sparkling eyes. "I do feel
proud of it. I shall keep it on that little table in front of the
window, where it will show."
"Barker sent a message to say she was coming to see you this evening,"
Marigold said, changing the conversation. "I expect you're longing to
see her, aren't you?"
"Indeed, yes, miss!"
"We have been away nearly six weeks," the little girl continued. "Such
a happy holiday we have had! Boscombe is a lovely place! I think Barker
has enjoyed herself too."
"I am sure she has, miss, for she wrote to me several times whilst
you were away, and told me so. I got a neighbour of mine to read the
letters."
"Have you seen Mrs. Adams lately?" Marigold inquired.
"Yes, miss. She has been to see me twice. She called one day last week,
and asked me if I knew when you were all coming home. I expect you'll
be sure to see her soon."
"I hope so," Marigold answered, for she was greatly looking forward to
meeting Farmer Jo and his mother again.
She felt quite glad to be back in Exeter once more, and was waiting
eagerly and with pleasurable anticipation the commencement of the
next term. What a lot she would have to tell Grace Long and her other
friends at school!
Meanwhile, she saw Muriel Wake nearly every day. Muriel was wondering
how long her father and stepmother would remain abroad, and confided to
Marigold that there was a great upset amongst the servants at home on
account of her father's marriage, and all but Mrs. Jones were going to
leave.