A NICE PLAN
'Up where the world grows cold,
Under the sharp north star.'
_A North Pole Story._
Biddy stared at Celestina. The little girl's face was quite flushed with
excitement.
'Go on,' said Biddy. 'Tell me some more. I never heard about it.'
'It's what they call the arctic regions,' said Celestina. 'The old
sailor at the lighthouse has been there. Once he was there in a ship
that got fastened into the ice, and they thought they'd never get out
again, and they'd scarcely nothing to eat. Oh, it was dreadful; but I
did so like to hear about it. And fancy, in the summer it never gets
night up there--the sun never goes away; and in the winter it never gets
day, the sun doesn't come up at all.'
'How very funny!' said Biddy. 'What makes it like that? Is it the same
sun as ours?'
'Oh yes, but I can't quite explain,' said Celestina, looking rather
puzzled. 'Father showed it me with the candle and a little round globe
we've got, but I'm afraid I couldn't tell you.'
'Could the old man tell it?' asked Biddy. 'I would so like to go to see
him. Don't you think we might some day?'
'Perhaps,' said Celestina. 'When the summer comes perhaps your papa
would take you in a boat. Lots of ladies go out to the lighthouse in the
summer. It's too cold in a boat in winter.'
'But I don't mean in a boat,' said Bridget; 'I mean walking. I'm quite
_sure_ we could jump over the little bit of water if we gave a great big
jump. I once jumped over a whole brook at grandmamma's--I did really.'
'It's much bigger than that--it is indeed. You don't understand,' said
Celestina. 'If you'd ask your papa he'd tell you, I daresay. But I think
we must be going home now. I'm sure it's time.'
'I'm sure it isn't,' said Biddy crossly. 'We haven't talked about the
dolls at all yet, and I want you to tell me more about that funny place
where the snow is.'
'I'll try to think of more to tell you if your mamma will let you go out
with me another time, and I'd like dearly to show you my dolls' room if
you could come to our house one day,' said Celestina. 'But we must go
home now, Miss Biddy.'
Bridget flounced about, looking very much put out.
'I'm not going yet. I don't want to go in,' she said.
Celestina began to look troubled. Then her face cleared.
'_I_ must go home,' she said, 'whether you do or not. I wouldn't for
anything have mother worrying about me. You wouldn't like your mamma to
be worrying about you, would you, Miss Biddy?'
'I daresay she wouldn't care; I'd only get a scolding, and I don't mind
much,' said Biddy, who had got on to a very high horse by this time.
Celestina stopped short and looked at her. She could not understand
Biddy at all.
'Mother never scolds me, but I'm very unhappy when she's not pleased
with me,' she said gently; 'and I'm sure your mamma's very kind and
good. I'm sure she does care about you a great deal.'
Her words reminded Bridget of what had happened that very afternoon.
Perhaps what Celestina said was true: mamma had pressed her hand when
she said she was sorry. With one of the quick changes of mood which
seemed so strange to Celestina she turned suddenly.
'I'll go home,' she said. 'Come on, Celestina, before I get naughty
again. But it isn't all for being good. It's a great deal that I want to
come out with you again, and perhaps I mightn't if I was late to-day.'
'No. Very likely your mamma would think I made you disobedient,'
Celestina replied; 'and I shouldn't like her to think so.'
'If I might go into the kitchen and get the tea ready for papa and mamma
like you do, I'd never want to stay out late,' said Bridget
thoughtfully.
Celestina considered.
'You don't need to do that,' she said. 'It wouldn't be any good to your
mamma, for she's got servants to do it. But there must be other things
you could do if you want to help her.'
'No,' said Biddy, shaking her head, 'there's nothing. And I don't think
I want very much; it's just sometimes. Alie helps mamma because she's
the eldest.'
Celestina scarcely knew how to answer this, though she felt there was
something wrong about her little companion's way of looking at things.
But Celestina had not much power of putting her thoughts and feelings
into words. Her solitary life had made her a very silent child, not
intentionally, but by habit. She found it difficult to express her
meaning even to herself. Just now she gazed at Biddy without speaking,
so that Biddy began to laugh.
'What are you looking at me so for?' asked the younger child.
'I don't know,' said Celestina. 'I was only thinking.'
'What?' asked Biddy again.
'You should help too, even though you're the youngest,' said Celestina
bluntly.
'Oh, bother,' was all Biddy's reply.
They were at the Rectory gate by this time.
'Good-bye, Miss Biddy,' said Celestina. 'I must run home fast. But
I don't think it's late.'
'Good-bye,' said Biddy. 'I've got my shells; have you got yours? Oh
yes,' as Celestina held up a tiny little basket she was carrying. 'How
dreadfully careful you are! Good-night. I'll ask mamma to let me come
and see you very soon.'
On her way up the short drive to the house Bridget came face to face
with Randolph.
'Oh, you're there, are you?' he said. 'Mamma was just asking if you'd
come in, so I came to look out for you.'
Biddy was silent. This did not seem very like mamma's 'not caring,' as
she had been saying to Celestina.
'It isn't late,' she remarked at last. 'Mamma said I might stay half an
hour.'
'She was beginning to worry about you a little, all the same,' said
Rough. 'Were you with the little Fairchild girl?'
'Yes,' said Biddy.
'Is she a nice little girl?' asked Rough.
'Yes,' said Biddy again.
'Then why don't you like her? Why are you so cross?' asked her brother.
'I'm not cross, and I never said I didn't like her,' replied Bridget
impatiently.
Rough began to whistle.
'I can't say I agree with you,' he said. 'Well, I'll run on and tell
mamma you're all right;' and off he set.
Biddy followed him slowly, feeling rather depressed.
'I didn't mean to be cross,' she said to herself in her usual way,
though she really did feel what she said this time. 'It was kind of
Roughie to come to meet me. They're all good 'acept me. Celestina's good
too. I'm made all the wrong way,' and she sighed deeply.
She brightened up again, however, when she met her mother at the door.
'That's right, Biddy dear,' said Mrs. Vane. 'You've not stayed too
late.'
Rough was there too; he had not told about her being cross evidently,
and Biddy felt grateful to him. It was very nice when mamma spoke like
that; it reminded her of the way her hand had been pressed that
afternoon. But a sudden thought rather chilled her satisfaction. Biddy
was beginning to be troubled with thoughts, and thoughts too that would
not be driven away and forgotten, as she had been accustomed to drive
away and forget anything that made her feel at all uncomfortable. This
thought teased and pricked her for a few seconds, and though she
wriggled herself about and stamped her feet down with hard thumps on the
gravel, it would not go.
'Biddy,' it said, 'Biddy, you know what you should do.'
So that at last, in sheer impatience of its teasing, she gave her
mother's sleeve a little tug.
'Mamma,' she said, 'it was _her_ that made me not stay longer than you'd
said. I wanted to. I wasn't very good, but she's good.'
Mrs. Vane turned with real pleasure in her face.
'I'm very glad you've told me, Biddy,' she said. 'Yes, it was nice and
good of Celestina to remind you. I think she must really be a very
conscientious child.'
'I don't know what that is,' said Bridget. 'At least, p'raps I do know,
but it's such a trouble to think. But Celestina _is_ good. I almost
think she's a little too good.'
Her tone was very melancholy. Rough burst out laughing, but Mrs. Vane
looked rather disappointed.
'It will be so vexing if Biddy takes a dislike to her just when I was
hoping it would be a good thing,' she thought to herself.
Still, the remembrance of the little talk with Mrs. Fairchild was in her
mind. She took no notice of Biddy's remark, only telling her cheerfully
to run in quickly and get ready for tea, as it was almost ready.
The children's mother went to Seacove again the next day, but this time
she did not take either of them with her. She went straight to Pier
Street, and as soon as Mrs. Fairchild saw her coming into the shop she
came forward with a smile and showed her into the parlour. There
Celestina was sitting quietly working at some new clothes for her little
dolls: she wanted them to be very smart indeed, in case the Rectory
young ladies came to see them. She rose from her seat at once when Mrs.
Vane came in, but a shadow of disappointment crossed her face when she
saw that the lady was alone.
'I have not brought Biddy this time,' said Mrs. Vane kindly. 'I have
come to see Mrs. Fairchild myself. But Biddy shall come some day soon.
I want you to show her your doll-house, for I should be glad for her to
get into the way of playing with one. She has always been a difficult
child to amuse,' she went on; 'she is so restless, and never seems to
get interested in her toys or games.'
Celestina opened her lips as if she were going to speak, but said
nothing.
'What is it, my dear?' said Mrs. Vane, seeing the look in the little
girl's eyes. Celestina grew pink.
'It was only,' she began. 'It's not so nice to play alone.'
'No, that is true,' said Biddy's mother, 'and true of other things as
well as play.' Then she turned to Mrs. Fairchild: 'Have you been able
to----' she was beginning, but with a little gesture of apology Mrs.
Fairchild glanced at her daughter.
'Go upstairs, Celestina, for a few minutes,' and in a moment Celestina
gathered together her small concerns and noiselessly left the room.
'How obedient she is,' said Mrs. Vane with a little sigh. 'I should have
had quite an argument with Biddy, or at least cross looks.'
'Children are very different,' said Mrs. Fairchild. 'Still there is not
much you can do with them without obedience. And if they get the habit
of it quite young, it costs them so much less; they obey almost without
thinking about it.'
'And have you seen Miss Neale?' asked Mrs. Vane after a little pause.
'She came to see me yesterday, and I think it can be nicely arranged.
She is a very good girl: I feel sure you will be pleased with her. The
only difficulty would have been her promise about Celestina, which she
would not have liked to give up; but what you have so kindly proposed
puts this all right of course. It will be a great pleasure and interest
to Celestina to learn with a companion. I feel that I cannot thank you
enough.'
'On the contrary,' said Mrs. Vane, 'I have to thank you. I am in hopes
that your little daughter's companionship will be of great good to
Bridget.'
Mrs. Fairchild's gentle face grew a little red.
'I think I may at least assure you of this,' she said, 'little Miss
Bridget will learn no harm from Celestina.'
'I am sure of it,' said Mrs. Vane warmly. 'By the bye,' she added,
'Celestina is a very uncommon name. I have never heard it except in its
French form of "Célestine."'
'Celestina was named after a French lady,' said Mrs. Fairchild--'a lady
who was very kind to my sisters and me when we were young. She happened
to be living near the town where our home was for some years. Her
husband had an appointment there. They had only one child, a daughter
named Célestine like her mother, who died, and my mother helped to nurse
her in her last illness, which made Madame d'Ermont very fond of her.
Indeed, I think she was very fond of us all,' she added with a little
smile, 'and I think I was a special pet of hers. Through her kindness
I had many advantages in my education. But when she and Monsieur, as we
always called him, went back to France troublous times came on. We lost
sight of them altogether. Still, I have never forgotten the dear lady,
and I determined to give my little girl her name.'
Mrs. Vane listened with the greatest interest.
'"Madame d'Ermont," did you say?' she asked eagerly, and on Mrs.
Fairchild's answering 'Yes'--'It must be the same,' she went on; 'our
Madame d'Ermont's name was Célestine too. She was, or is, for I hope she
is still living, a great friend of ours too, Mrs. Fairchild. We spent
two winters in the south of France near her home, and we saw a great
deal of her. It is a pity for you not to have kept up writing to her;
she is very kind and very rich and childless--she might be a good friend
to her little name-daughter.'
Mrs. Fairchild's face flushed again: I rather think Biddy had inherited
something of her habit of hasty speech from her mother, kind-hearted and
good as Mrs. Vane was.
'It would not be from any motive of _that_ kind I should like to hear
from Madame d'Ermont again,' said Celestina's mother. 'It is true our
child has no one to look to but ourselves, and neither her father nor
I can boast of very strong health--but still----'
'Oh, I _beg_ your pardon,' interrupted Mrs. Vane impulsively; 'I quite
understand your feeling, and I did not mean to say anything you could
dislike. But still I will look out Madame d'Ermont's address, or get it
from my mother, and when I write to her I may tell her of you, may I
not?'
'I should be very grateful if you would do so,' Mrs. Fairchild replied.
Then they went on to speak of the details of the arrangement they had
been making, and soon after Mrs. Vane left.
That afternoon she called Bridget to her.
'Bride,' she said, 'I have something to say to you.'
'Yes, mamma,' Biddy replied, but without giving much attention. It was
probably, she thought, only to reprove her for her way of sitting at
table, or for having been cross to Jane, or for one of the hundred and
one little misdemeanours she was always being guilty of. And Biddy was
in a queerish mood just now: there was a good deal of battling and
pulling two ways going on in her baby heart. Was the lazy little _soul_
beginning to grow, I wonder?
'Yes, mamma,' she said indifferently, with her peevish 'I didn't mean,'
quite ready to trot out on the smallest provocation.
'You must give your attention, my dear,' said Mrs. Vane; 'it is
something rather particular I want to tell you about.'
'I _am_ giving my attention,' said Biddy, though it did not look very
like it.
'Well, then,' her mother went on, determined not to notice Bride's
evident wish to pick a quarrel, 'listen. You know that Miss Millet
cannot come back to us for a good long while. Alie's lessons do not
matter so much as yours, for she is very well on for her age and a
little rest will do her no harm; besides, she will have some lessons
with papa and some with me. But we have not time for you too.'
'And you couldn't manage me if you had,' said Biddy gloomily.
Mrs. Vane took no notice--'And besides, at your age it is most important
to be very regular. So I have engaged a daily governess for you, my dear
Biddy--that means a governess who will come every morning for three
hours, just to teach you. But she won't live in the house with us as
Miss Millet does.'
'Won't she take us walks?' demanded Biddy.
'Not every day, for some days she is engaged in the afternoons. But
twice a week she will come back in the afternoons and take you a walk
and stay to have tea with you. Her name is Miss Neale; she is very
nice, though she is younger and--less experienced than Miss Millet.
I hope you will be very good with her, Bride.'
Bride gave herself a little shake.
'No, mamma,' she said. 'I don't want to be naughty, but I can't help it.
I'm sure I shall be very naughty with her.'
Mrs. Vane kept her patience. She looked at Biddy quietly.
'Why, Biddy?' she asked. 'You are old enough to understand that I have
taken a good deal of trouble about this for you.'
'I needn't have lessons till Miss Millet comes back; I'd be quite good
without. I don't like having lessons quite alone without Alie or
nobody,' said Biddy.
'Would you like it better if you had some one to learn with you--some
one nearer your age than Alie, who would do the very same lessons?'
asked her mother.
Biddy's eyes sparkled.
'I should think I would,' she said, 'but there isn't nobody'--then she
gave a sort of gasp. 'Oh, if only--if Celestina could do lessons with
me,' she exclaimed. 'She knows lots, mamma, all about up at the top of
the world, where there isn't _really_ that stick I thought there was,
but lots of snow and always light--no, always dark, I forget which. I'll
ask her--the old lighthouse man told her. I'm sure she'd help me with my
jography, mamma, and she'd teach me to dress dolls and----' Biddy
stopped, quite out of breath.
Mrs. Vane smiled; she looked very pleased.
'I am very glad you have thought of it yourself, Biddy,' she said, 'for
it is the very thing I have planned. Celestina _is_ going to have
lessons with you. Her mother had already settled for Miss Neale to give
her lessons, as they don't care about Celestina going to school, so it
would not have been fair for Miss Neale to give her up to come to us.
And besides, both papa and I thought it would make our little girl
happier to have a companion--eh, Biddy?'
Mrs. Vane had hardly time to finish her sentence before she felt her
breath nearly taken away by a pair of fat little arms hugging her so
tightly that she could scarcely free her head.
'Mamma, mamma,' cried Biddy, 'I love you, I do really love you now. I
never thought I did so much. Oh, I am so glad. Thank you, dear mamma.'
Never in her life had Biddy been so affectionate; never, at least, had
she shown her affection so much. Mrs. Vane kissed her warmly.
'I am very pleased too, dear,' she said. 'I do think you will be a good
and happy little girl now.'
'I'll try to be good, mamma, I will really. But it would take me a
dreadfully long time to be as good as Celestina, I'm afraid.'