that Evangeline was particularly wanted somewhere else, and rising from
her chair, Evangeline walked to the door.
'Please finish the story!' exclaimed Mary, running after her. 'I do want
to know how it ends and what became of Lucy!'
'My dear little girl,' answered Evangeline, 'it is a very difficult
story to finish. At all events, I cannot stay to finish it to-day,' and
she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Mary felt very deeply interested in the story, because she thought that
Lucy seemed rather like herself, and that Gertrude was like Evangeline.
Certainly Sister Benevolence was very much like Sister Agatha! Still
Mary did not feel very clear about it, because she had no recollection
of being knocked down and run over. If anything of that kind had
happened to her, surely she would have known all about it! At any rate
she felt the strongest interest in Lucy and she wanted to know what
became of her, and especially she would have liked to hear that she did
not go back to the place she had come from, which might be as bad as
William Street.
She did not see Evangeline any more that day, but the next afternoon she
came to the room to speak to Sister Agatha.
'Tell me the rest of the story now!' exclaimed Mary, taking hold of her
dress; 'I do want so much to hear how it ends.'
'What story is that?' asked Evangeline, and she seemed to have forgotten
all about it.
'Why, the story about Lucy and Gertrude and Sister Benevolence,' said
Mary, but Evangeline looked at her without answering for a few moments,
then she said--
'You must ask Sister Agatha. She can finish it better than I can.'
'Will you, Sister Agatha?' asked Mary, as Evangeline left the room.
'You know,' she answered, 'I never could tell tales out of my head. I
can't tell you to-day. You see how busy I am!'
'When will you tell me then?' cried Mary with a disappointed expression.
'After Evangeline has gone away,' said Sister Agatha.
'But when is she going?' asked Mary.
'Why, didn't you know she is to be married the day after to-morrow?'
said Sister Agatha.
Mary did not know it was to be quite so soon as that, and it made her
rather miserable to think that Evangeline would be going away almost
directly. But when Sister Agatha promised to take her to see the wedding
she looked more cheerful, for she liked to be taken to see things.
The day after to-morrow soon came, and long before the usual time for
breakfast, Sister Agatha drew up the blind to look at the weather. She
seemed very pleased to see how fine and sunny the morning was and she
put on Mary's lightest dress--the pale-blue one.
'Won't she come to see us before she starts?' asked Mary, when Sister
Agatha was ready.
'The idea of such a thing!' was the answer; 'you must wait until she
goes to the church.'
It seemed to Mary that she had to wait a long time, but when once she
had taken her seat in a pew, there was plenty to look at. The prince
stood at one end of the church, and Mary noticed how often he looked at
his watch. At the other end by the door were six little girls dressed
all alike in primrose colour, and Mary could not help wishing she was
one of them! The church became full, and everybody seemed to be very
smartly dressed, and nearly all the ladies carried large bunches of
flowers.
Presently the organ began to play, and then Evangeline walked along the
middle of the church holding an old gentleman's arm. She did not see
Mary or anybody else because she kept her eyes on the ground; but she
looked beautiful in her white dress, and she also carried a bunch of
flowers--the largest bunch Mary had ever seen. Mary would have clapped
her hands if Sister Agatha had not prevented her, but Sister Agatha
could not prevent her from asking--
'What are you crying for?'
'S--s--sh,' said Sister Agatha.
'Don't you want her to be married?' whispered Mary.
'Yes, of course I do,' was the answer.
'Then why are you crying?' asked Mary.
By this time Evangeline was standing at the prince's side, and a
clergyman was speaking, though Mary could not hear what he said. After a
long time the organ began to play again very loudly, and suddenly Mary
noticed that Evangeline had disappeared.
'Where has she gone to?' she asked.
'She will be back again directly,' answered Sister Agatha, and soon
afterwards Mary saw the prince, with Evangeline holding his arm, going
towards the door again, while some tiny children threw flowers on the
floor for them to walk upon.
Sister Agatha was almost the last to leave the church, and when Mary
reached the house again she saw a great many carriages before it. But
she was taken upstairs as usual, and after dining alone with Sister
Agatha she wanted to know what would happen next.
'We are going to see them start,' was the answer, and they went out of
doors a few minutes later. All the carriages had moved away into the
park, and only the small brown one with the four cream-coloured ponies
stood before the door. But a great crowd of people was there, and the
prince and Evangeline, who had changed her white dress for a dark one,
came out, and everyone seemed to want to kiss her. Some laughed and some
cried, and Mary felt inclined to do both at once.
'Isn't she going to say good-bye to us?' cried Mary, as Evangeline
stepped into the carriage and sat down. But Sister Agatha did not seem
to hear her. The prince also got into the carriage and took the reins,
then the ponies started and everybody began to cry, 'Hip, hip, hurrah!'
Mary saw Sister Agatha take something white from under her cloak and
throw it after the carriage. It looked like a slipper, only she could
not imagine why Sister Agatha should throw a slipper at Evangeline; it
hit her too!
'Why did you do that?' asked Mary.
'That,' said Sister Agatha in a curious voice. 'Oh! that is for luck:
God bless her.'
When the slipper fell into the carriage striking Evangeline's knees, she
looked round to see where it came from, and noticing Sister Agatha she
spoke to the prince, who laughed and stopped the ponies. Then Sister
Agatha took Mary's hand and ran to the carriage. Evangeline leaned
forward to kiss her and then she stooped to kiss Mary as well.
'I'm glad she said good-bye,' whispered Mary as the four cream-coloured
ponies started again, but Sister Agatha did not speak until after they
were indoors. 'Shan't I ever see her again?' asked Mary, as they entered
their own room.
'Never is a long day, you know, Sister Agatha answered; 'but certainly
neither of us will see her for many, many years.'
When Mary had taken off her hat she went downstairs to tea, and during
the meal she could talk about nothing but Evangeline and the wedding.
But when she had finished and the tea-things had been removed, she
brought her stool to Sister Agatha's side and looked up a little
wistfully into her face; she felt she had nobody but Sister Agatha now.
'Please tell me the end of the story about Lucy,' she said.
'To begin with,' answered Sister Agatha, 'I think Evangeline made a
little mistake. I don't fancy the little girl's name was Lucy after all.
I think it must have been Mary.'
'Was it Mary Brown?' asked Mary, with her eyes very widely open.
'Yes,' said Sister Agatha.
'I--I wondered whether it was,' said Mary solemnly.
'And,' Sister Agatha continued, 'I rather think that Sister Benevolence
should have been called Sister Agatha, although it isn't nearly such a
nice name.'
'I thought it was you,' answered Mary.
'Well,' said Sister Agatha, 'Mary was a dear little girl and Sister
Agatha grew very fond of her. And when Evangeline was very busy and
didn't know quite what to do with her--why Sister Agatha thought it was
time to put her thinking-cap on.'
'Is it like the cap you've got on now?' asked Mary, staring up at Sister
Agatha's white cap.
'When I think I generally take that off,' said Sister Agatha, 'and after
to-morrow I don't think I shall wear it again. Well, I put my thinking
cap on, and I began to wonder whether I could manage to keep you with me
always.'
'Oh!' exclaimed Mary, and she seemed to be hugging herself as if she
felt very pleasant indeed.
'And,' Sister Agatha said, 'after thinking about it a long time, I
fancied that perhaps I _could_ keep you with me always.'
'Here!' cried Mary. 'Should we live here?'
'No, we are going away from here to-morrow,' was the answer.
'Where to?' asked Mary.
'Suppose, now, we take a nice little house somewhere near the sea,' said
Sister Agatha.
'I should like that!' cried Mary.
'I think I should like it too,' answered Sister Agatha. 'Because I shall
always have some one to look after, and I like looking after people. And
we shall grow very fond of each other, sometimes we shall play on the
sands, or row on the sea, and then I shall teach you to read and write,
and when you can read you will begin to see what a wonderful world you
live in--and you will find that life is far more wonderful than any
fairy-tale.'
'Shall I?' asked Mary, and rising from her stool, she stood leaning
against Sister Agatha's knees. 'But, still,' she said presently, 'you'll
be there, won't you?'
'Why, of course I shall be there,' said Sister Agatha.
'And you won't go away the same as Evangeline!'
'No,' said Sister Agatha with a smile; 'that is not at all likely.'
'And,' said Mary looking up anxiously into her face, 'you'll never send
me away either?'
'No, I shall never send you away either,' answered Sister Agatha, and
she placed her arms round Mary Brown and drew the child's head on to her
shoulder. It rested there a long time, and Mary felt quite contented and
not at all anxious any more.
The next day they were driven to the station with their luggage, and
they travelled to a small town by the seaside. At first they lived in
lodgings, but presently Sister Agatha took a pretty house of her own; it
had a nice garden where Mary likes to sit reading on summer afternoons.
She can read easily now, if Sister Agatha tells her the meanings of the
long words, and she has grown so tall that Mrs. Coppert would hardly
recognise her if she saw her. But I don't think Mrs. Coppert will ever
see Mary again.
THE END
The Dumpy Books for Children
Selected by E. V. LUCAS. Each with End-papers specially designed by Mrs.
FARMILOE
I. THE FLAMP, THE AMELIORATOR, and THE SCHOOLBOY'S APPRENTICE. _Written
by E. V. LUCAS_
II. MRS. TURNER'S CAUTIONARY STORIES
III. THE BAD FAMILY, _by Mrs. Fenwick_
IV. LITTLE BLACK SAMBO, _by Helen Bannerman_. With Pictures in colours
by the Author.
V. THE BOUNTIFUL LADY, _by Thomas Cobb_
VI. THE CAT BOOK, _by Rickman Mark_. With Thirty Pictures _by H. Officer
Smith_
CHILDREN'S BOOKS
A BOOK OF VERSES FOR CHILDREN. Compiled by E. V. LUCAS. With Title-page
and End-Papers designed by F. D. BEDFORD.
HELEN'S BABIES. By JOHN HABBERTON.
PALEFACE AND REDSKIN. And Other Stories for Boys and Girls. By F.
ANSTEY, Author of 'VICE VERSA.'
TOM UNLIMITED: A STORY FOR CHILDREN. By GRANT ALLEN (MARTIN LEACH
WARBOROUGH).
COOPER'S FIRST TERM: A STORY FOR BOYS. By THOMAS COBB, Author of 'MR.
PASSINGHAM.'
THE CHILD'S COOKERY BOOK. By LOUISA S. TATE. Dedicated to H.R.H.
PRINCESS CHRISTIAN OF SCHLESWIG-HOLSTEIN.
LITTLE BERTHA. By W. J. STILLMAN, Author of 'BILLY AND HANS.'
RAG, TAG, AND BOBTAIL. With Thirty Illustrations in Colours by Mrs.
FARMILOE, and Verses by WINIFRED PARNELL.
ALL THE WORLD OVER. With Thirty Illustrations in Colours by Mrs.
FARMILOE, and Verses by E. V. LUCAS.
THE BOOK OF SHOPS. With Illustrations in Colours by F. D. BEDFORD, and
Verses by E. V. LUCAS.
WONDERFUL WILLIE! WHAT HE AND TOMMY DID TO SPAIN. Written and
Illustrated in Colours by L. D. BRADLEY.