CELESTINA
'Little china tea-things and delightful dinner-sets;
Trumpets, drums, and baby-horses; balls in coloured nets.'
_What the Toys do at Night._
Just as she said these words Rosalys became conscious that some one else
was standing beside her. She looked round. A little girl, simply but
neatly dressed, had come into the bazaar, and had made her way
noiselessly up to where the Rectory children stood. She was a slight,
delicate-looking child, taller than Bridget, though not seemingly much
older. She had large, earnest, perhaps somewhat wistful, brown eyes,
which made her face attractive and interesting when you looked at it
closely, though at first sight it was too small and pale to catch one's
attention. She stood there quietly and very grave, her eyes fixed on
Alie Vane's lovely and sweet face, yet without the slightest shadow of
forwardness or freedom in her gaze. An expression of great surprise,
mingled with a little pity, flitted across her when she heard the elder
girl's words--'What a pity, Biddy, you don't care for dolls!' and it was
with intense interest she listened to Bridget's reply.
'I would care for them, Alie, if I had any one to play at them with me.
But you think you're too big--I think you've always thought yourself too
big--and Rough's a boy. So how could I care for dolls all alone?'
Bride's voice had taken the peculiar little whine it always did when she
was at all put out. It was comical and yet a little irritating; but just
now neither Rosalys nor Randolph was inclined to be irritated. Alie only
laughed.
'Well, I'm not forcing you to play with dolls, nor to buy them,' she
said. 'Only these little tiny chairs are so funny.'
A voice behind her made her start. Yet it was a very soft, rather timid
little voice.
'You can play much nicer with little dolls alone--a good many little
dolls--than with one or two big ones,' it said.
Biddy turned round and stared at the small maiden. She did not mean to
be rude; she was only surprised and curious; but her rosy cheeks and
round eyes looked much less sweet and gentle than Alie's pretty face and
soft long-lashed blue eyes, which had always a rather appealing
expression. Biddy opened her mouth but did not speak. The little
stranger grew very red. Rosalys spoke to her gently.
'Yes,' she said, 'I should think little dolls would be much more amusing
to play with alone. You could make them act things, and you could make
houses for them. Biddy, wouldn't you like to furnish our old doll-house
fresh?'
'I don't know,' said Biddy rather surlily. 'You'd call me a baby.'
'Indeed I wouldn't,' said Alie eagerly. 'It would be such a nice play
for you. You might buy two or three of those sweet little chairs as a
beginning.'
'They are particular nice,' put in the shopwoman. 'It isn't often
they're made so small, not so cheap. And what were you wanting this
morning, my dear?' she went on to the little newcomer.
'If you please, I want two of them--of the chairs,' the child replied,
holding out two pennies. Her face was still rather red, but she glanced
with admiration mingled with gratitude at Rosalys.
The shopwoman handed her the two little chairs, but she did not seem
quite satisfied.
'Would you like to choose for yourself?' said the woman with a smile.
She seemed used to the ways and manners of small customers--of this
small customer especially, perhaps--and she made way for her as the
little girl, well pleased, came close to the counter. Then for a minute
or two the child stood absorbed, weighing the comparative merits of blue
and pink cotton chair seats, and of dark and light coloured wood. At
last, with a little sigh of mingled anxiety and satisfaction, she held
out two to the woman.
'These, please,' she said; and, without waiting for her purchases to be
wrapped up, she turned, and with a glance at the other children, a
shadowy smile for half an instant wavering over her face, she quietly
made her way out of the shop.
'Poor little girl,' said Rosalys. 'You quite frightened her when she
spoke, Bridget. Why did you glare at her so?'
'I didn't glare at her; you're very unkind, Alie, to say so,' said
Biddy, in her complaining tone.
'Oh, I say, Biddy, don't be so grumpy,' Randolph put in, 'and do fix
what you're going to buy. There's something over here that papa would
like, I know. A whistle, such a jolly strong one, and only two-pence. It
would do for him to call me in by, and much less trouble than ringing
that clumsy bell.'
Biddy went off to look at the whistle. It was a very neat one, in the
shape of a dog's head, and she at once decided upon it, for she had
great faith in Rough's opinion as to what papa would like. Then ensued
another weighty consultation at the penny stall, where Alie had meantime
bought a pair of tiny dolls, which she meant to dress in secret as a
'surprise' for her little sister--'it would be so nice if she took to
dressing dolls for herself,' she thought--and a yard measure for
herself. Bridget's perplexities ended in the purchase of one of the neat
little chairs and a small table and a tiny china dog.
'They'd be pretty as ornaments on my mantelpiece even if I never have a
doll-house,' she said. 'And if I did have the doll-house done up, it
_must_ have a dog, to keep watch, you know, Alie.'
At the entrance of the bazaar they ran against Mr. Redding. He looked
hot and hurried and was walking very fast, but at sight of them he
stopped suddenly, and then, came up to Randolph.
'_Would_ you excuse me, sir,' he began, 'if I were to ask you a great
favour? I have just been at the Rectory to see Mr. Vane and I am
hurrying off to Brewton by the next train, for unfortunately there is
something wrong with one of the organ stops and I must get a man to come
over at once. It would never do not to be able to use the organ properly
the first Sunday Mr. Vane is here. I find it later than I thought, and
I had undertaken to leave this note at Mr. Fairchild's in Pier Street for
the rector. You will pass there on your way home, unless you
particularly want to go by Sandy Common?'
'Oh no,' said Rough, 'we don't mind. Of course I'll leave it for you,
Mr. Redding. Is there an answer?'
But Mr. Redding, having thrust the note into the boy's hands, was
already some paces off. He called out some rather incoherent reply, of
which 'thank you, thank you,' were the only intelligible words.
'What a fussy little man,' said Alie. 'But papa said he was proud of his
organ, and it would be horrid at church without it. Which is Pier
Street, Rough, do you know?'
'Not a bit of it--nor which is Mr. Fairchild's shop, or if it is a shop.
He only said at Mr. Fairchild's,' replied Randolph. 'I suppose any one
can tell us however; it's not like London.'
The 'Parade' at its farther end turned into the docks. The children
walked on, tempted by the sight of the tall masts in front of them.
'Wouldn't I like to see over some of those ships,' said Rough. Just then
a little group of sailors, looking little more than boys for the most
part, in spite of their bronzed and sunburnt skin, passed them,
chattering and whistling cheerily. They belonged to a vessel but newly
arrived from some southern port. One could see how happy they were to be
on English ground again--some of them maybe belonged to Seacove itself.
'Would you like to be a sailor, Rough?' said Alie.
Randolph hesitated.
'No, I don't think so, but I like seeing ships and hearing about
voyages.'
'_I'd_ like to be a sailor,' said Bridget suddenly. Rosalys and her
brother could not help laughing.
'What a funny sailor you'd make,' they said. And indeed it was not easy
to imagine her short, compact, roundabout figure climbing up masts and
darting about with the monkey-like swiftness of a smart little middy.
'I don't think you'd like it for long, Miss Biddy,' said Jane, the
young maid. 'I came once, in my last place, from Scotland by sea, and
though I wasn't at all ill, it was dreadful rough work. I was glad to
feel my feet on firm land again.'
'Was it very stormy?' asked all the children together. 'And how long
were you in the ship? Oh, do tell us about it, Jane.'
Jane's value rose immensely on the spot. She was not a particularly
lively girl generally, but this was quite a discovery.
'Was it a very big ship?' asked Bridget, 'or quite a teeny-weeny one,
just big enough to hold all of us like?'
'You stupid little goose,' said Rough. 'You mean a boat--a _ship_ is
never as little as that.'
'Boats and ships is all the same,' Biddy persisted; 'and I heard papa
say there was a Scotch boat to Seacove twice a week--there now, Rough.'
'Oh well--but that's only a way of speaking. Papa didn't mean a real
boat--a little boat. Now, if we could go down those steps right among
all the ships I'd soon show you the difference.'
'But we mustn't, Rough,' said Alie anxiously. 'Not without papa or
somebody big--any way we must ask leave first.'
'Well, I suppose it would hardly do for you girls,' Rough replied. 'But
of course papa would let _me_ go. He and I walked all round the docks
last night, and we should have gone to the end of the pier if----'
'Oh, that reminds me,' said Rosalys. 'Haven't we passed Pier Street?
I believe that must be it opposite. Yes, I see it put up. Now we must
find out Mr. Fairchild's. Can't you ask somebody, Rough?'
Randolph, though he would not have confessed it, was a little shy of
accosting any of the few passers-by. Just because there were so few and
the place was so quiet, the children felt themselves rather
uncomfortably conspicuous, and they could not help noticing that here
and there the inhabitants came rather unnecessarily to their doors to
look at them as they passed. It was not done rudely, and indeed it was
only natural that the arrival of a new rector and his family at Seacove
should attract a good deal of attention, considering that old Dr. Bunton
and his wife had been fixtures there for more years than Mr. Vane
himself had been in the world.
'Oh yes,' said Rough in an off-hand way, 'I can ask any one. But we
may as well walk on a little and look about us. If it is a shop we'll
see the name.'
Just then there came out of a shop in front of them--a baker's, I think
it was--a small figure which walked on slowly some paces before them.
'That's the little girl of the dolls' chairs,' exclaimed Bridget. 'Shall
I run on and ask her? I don't mind.'
'You never do,' said Alie, and indeed Biddy was most comfortably
untroubled with shyness.
'Yes, run on and see if she knows where it is.'
Off trotted Biddy, her precious purchases tightly clasped in her hands.
'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the other child.
[Illustration: 'Little girl,' she called, when she got close to the
other child. P. 75.]
The little girl turned, and looked at Biddy full in the face with her
grave earnest eyes without speaking. And for half a moment Bridget did
feel something approaching to shyness, but it gave her a comfortable
fellow-feeling to see that the small stranger was also still carrying
the little chairs she had bought. They were not done up in paper like
Biddy's--she had not waited for that,--but she had covered them loosely
with a very clean, very diminutive pocket-handkerchief, and Bridget saw
quite well what they were.
'Please,' Biddy went on, slightly breathless--it did not take much to
put Biddy out of breath--'please can you tell us where Mr. Fairchild's
is in this street? Rough's got a letter for him, but we don't know if
it's a shop or only a house.'
'Mr. Fairchild's,' repeated the little girl, 'he's my father; it's our
shop. I'll show it you,' and a faint pink flush of excitement came into
her pale face. These were the Rectory young ladies, she had been sure of
it when she saw them in the bazaar. Fancy--wouldn't mother be surprised
to see them coming in with her? And father, who had said she'd maybe
never see them. Was that the French ma'amselle with them?--and Celestina
glanced back at honest Jane Dodson, from 'grandmamma's' village, walking
along in her usual rather depressed fashion--if so, French ma'amselles
were very like English nurse-maids, thought her little observer.
'How funny!' said Biddy, quite interested. And Celestina began to like
her better--she had been rather disappointed in Biddy at the bazaar. She
was not pretty, and Celestina, though she scarcely knew it, was very
much taken by beauty, and she had been rather, almost a little rude--at
least Celestina knew that _she_ would have been told she was rude had
she behaved as Bridget had done. But now she seemed so bright and
natural--'She is quite a little girl,' thought Celestina; 'and perhaps
if she's the youngest she's treated rather like a baby.' 'How _very_
funny!' Biddy repeated. 'I must run back and tell Alie and Rough. And
have you a doll-house, little girl, and will you show it me? I've bought
a chair too and a table. Perhaps if I saw your doll-house and
teeny-weeny dolls I'd get to like to play with them too. We have a----
Oh, Alie,' as Alie, surprised at the length and apparent friendliness of
the conversation proceeding between the two children, hastened up. 'Oh,
Alie, _isn't_ it funny? She's his little girl. The note's for her
house.'
Rosalys turned her soft blue eyes full on Celestina.
'How like an angel she is!' thought Celestina.
'Who's?' said Alie. 'Do you mean Mr. Fairchild's? Why don't you explain
properly, Biddy?'
'Yes, that's it,' said the stranger child. 'I'm Celestina Fairchild.
I'll show you the shop.'
'Thank you,' said the elder girl. But Biddy would scarcely let her say
the two words. Her eyes were very open, looking rounder than ever.
'_What_ a funny name!' she exclaimed. Biddy's collection of adjectives
did not seem to be a very large one. 'Do say it again; oh, please do.'
'Biddy, I think you are rather rude,' said Alie severely. 'You wouldn't
like any one to say your name was funny.'
'I didn't mean----' began Bridget as usual, but Celestina quietly
interrupted.
'I don't mind; she's only a little girl. Don't be vexed with her,' she
said to Alie with a sort of childish dignity that seemed to suit her. 'I
think my name _is_ funny; mother called it me 'cos--, but p'raps we'd
better go on. I've been out a good while and mother might be wondering
what I was doing, and then if the letter for father matters much----'
'Yes,' said Alie; 'you're quite right; we'd better be quick.'
So the little party set off again up the street. Biddy and
Celestina--for now that Biddy's interest was awakened in the stranger
child she had no idea of giving her up to the others--in front; Rosalys
and her brother following; Jane Dodson, discreet and resigned, bringing
up the rear.
They had not far to walk, but Bridget's tongue made the most of its
opportunities.
'Have you got a doll-house, then?' she inquired of Celestina; and as the
little girl shook her head rather dolefully in reply, 'What do you get
furniture' (Biddy called it 'fenniture') 'for, then? Is it for
ornaments?'
'No; I've got a room, though not a doll-house,' Celestina replied. 'It
once was a kitchen, but I played with it too much when I was little, and
the things got spoilt. So father did it up for me with new paper like a
parlour--a best parlour, you know. Not a parlour like you use every
day.'
'I don't know what a parlour is,' said Biddy; 'we haven't got one at the
Rectory, and we hadn't one in London either. We've only got a
schoolroom, and a dining-room, and a droind-room, and a study for papa,
and----'
'I forgot,' said Celestina. 'I remember mother told me that they don't
call them parlours in big houses. It's a drawing-room I mean; only the
dolls have their dinner in it, because I haven't got a dining-room. They
haven't any bedroom either; but I put them to bed in a very nice little
basket, with a handkerchief and cotton-wool. It's very comfortable.'
'Yes?' said Bridget, greatly interested, 'and what more? Tell me,
please. It sounds so nice.'
'Sometimes,' Celestina went on--'sometimes I take them to the
country--on the table, you know--and then I build them a house with
books. It does very well if it's only a visit to the country, but it
wouldn't do for a always house, 'cos it has to be cleared away for
dinner.'
Biddy's mouth and eyes were wide open.
'We have dinner in the dining-room with papa and mamma,' she said; 'so
we don't need to clear away off the schoolroom table except for tea.
That's in London. I don't know where we're to have tea here, when Miss
Millet comes back. Don't you have dinner with your papa and mamma--when
they have luncheon, you know?'
In her turn Celestina stared.
'I don't know how you mean. We all have dinner in the parlour,' she
said, 'like--like everybody. But this is our shop,' she added, stopping
and turning so as to face the others. 'If you please, miss,' she went on
to Rosalys, 'this is father's shop. If you'll come in, he'll be there.'
Not a little surprised was Mr. Fairchild to see his daughter showing the
way in to the three children, whom he rightly and at once guessed to be
the new rector's family. Celestina looked quite composed; though so very
quiet and silent a child, she was neither shy nor awkward. She was too
little taken up with herself to have the foolish ideas which make so
many children bashful and unready: it never entered her head that other
people were either thinking of or looking at her. So she was free to
notice what she could do and when she was wanted, and her simple kindly
little heart was always pleased to render others a service, however
small.
'Father,' she said in her soft voice; 'it is young Master Vane and the
young ladies with a letter for you.'
Mr. Fairchild came forward, out from behind the counter. He made a
little bow to Rosalys, who was the foremost of the group, and a little
smile brightened his thin face as his eyes rested on hers. Every one was
attracted by Alie, and her voice was particularly gentle as she spoke to
Mr. Fairchild, for the first thought that darted through her mind was,
'How very ill he looks, poor man--much worse than papa.'
'It is a letter for you, Mr. Fairchild,' she said. 'Mr. Redding asked my
brother to give it to you. It is from pa--from Mr. Vane.'
'But I don't know if there is any answer,' said Rough. 'Redding didn't
say. Please see, will you?'
Rosalys and Randolph and Jane in the doorway stood waiting while he
read. But Biddy's eyes were hard at work. She caught Celestina as she
was disappearing through an inner door.
'Oh, please,' she said, 'don't go away. Won't you show me your dolls?
And oh, please, what _is_ that funny little window up there in the wall?
I would so like to look through it.'