At dinner that day there was some talk of nurse going out to walk with
the children.
"Oh do come, nursie dear," said Mary. "It _are_ so much nicer when you
come too," and baby cooed up in nurse's face for all the world as if she
were saying "do come," too.
"I'd like to, dearly," said nurse. "But I think I'd better rest my
ankle one day more, and then I hope it will be quite well. I feel quite
ashamed of having been so stupid about it."
"It wasn't _your_ fault," said Artie. "It was the carpet's fault for
being loose."
"And mine for not seeing it and getting it fastened," said nurse.
Though really I think it was more Emma's fault, for she had charge of
the passage where nurse had tripped and fallen.
"I think you'd much better wait another day," said Leigh gravely.
And nurse said to herself that Master Leigh was very thoughtful for his
age.
But Leigh had a reason of his own for not wanting nurse to go out with
them that day, and if he had let himself think about it honestly he
would have seen that his dislike to nurse coming showed that he was not
doing right. But all he would allow to himself was "Nurse is so fussy."
"If we could put you in the p'ram-bilator, that would be nice," said
Mary. "But I'm afraid it wouldn't be big enough."
"Of course not, you silly girl," said Leigh rather crossly. He did not
want the perambulator spoken of, for fear nurse should say something
about not playing any tricks with it. But Mary stared at him. She
could not understand why he was so cross.
It was again a very fine day for October. And as soon as they could be
got ready after dinner the children set off for their walk.
"I'll follow you in a moment," said Leigh, as they were waiting at the
side door into the garden while Emma got out the perambulator.
"If you go slowly down the drive I'll make up to you. I'm going to
fetch Fuzzy."
Mary's face fell. She was frightened of the dog, you know, when nurse
was not there for her to walk beside, for Emma only laughed at her. "I
_wiss_ poor Fuzzy wasn't coming," she said. "Rubbish," said Leigh, and
then he said more kindly, "You needn't be frightened of him, Mary,
you'll see. He can't knock you down to-day;" and then, as he ran off,
he cried back to Emma, "If I don't catch you up in the drive, turn to
the right. We're going round by the smithy and the Lavender Cottages--
it's the best road for the p'ram-bilator."
No one paid much attention to what he said, or they might have wondered
what he meant, for there were plenty of good roads for the perambulator.
Mary kept as close as she could to Emma and baby, and every now and
then she looked round over her shoulder for fear of Fuzz coming full
bang upon her in his affection, and knocking her down. But till they
had got some little way along the road there was no sign of him or of
Leigh.
Suddenly there came a whoop and cry from behind them. Mary caught hold
of Emma's skirt, and in another moment Leigh rushed past them, "driving
Fuzz," he would have said, though it looked more like Fuzz dragging
_him_. The dog had his harness on, and Leigh was holding the reins and
shouting to him.
"I'm taking it out of him," he called out, "just to quiet him down.
Doesn't he go well?"
It was certainly a comfort to Mary to see that Fuzz was not loose; and
in a minute or two, when the pair came back again, running more slowly,
she left off trembling and began to laugh a little.
"Doesn't Fuzzy go just like a little pony?" she said. "Hasn't Leigh
taught him cleverly?"
Then Leigh showed off all he had trained the dog to do. He made him
walk quite slowly, and then run, and then stop short when he called out
"Woa-wo-a, now; gently, old man," till they all admired it greatly.
"He'd soon learn to pull a cart," said Emma.
"He _can_ pull a cart, that's what I've been teaching him for," said
Leigh. "He could draw the p'ram-bilator beautifully."
"Law!" said Emma, "could he now, really?"
"Of course he could," said Leigh, "as soon as we get into the lane I'll
let you see. The road's nice and smooth there."
Mary clapped her hands. She thought it would be lovely. But Emma did
hesitate a little.
"Are you sure it's quite safe, Master Leigh?" she said.
"Safe, of course it's safe," said Leigh. "But if you're afraid you can
hold on behind just like you're doing now, and then you can stop us
going faster than you like."
The lane, when they got into it, ran almost straight to the cottages.
Leigh meant to pass them and come home by the smithy, for he wanted
Yakeman to admire him driving Fuzzy. There was a hill to go down, as
you may remember, from the cottages to Yakeman's, and I do not know how
Leigh meant to manage there. But as things turned out he did not get so
far as that.
The little party stopped when they had got some way down the lane, and
Leigh began to fasten Fuzz to the perambulator. He had got everything
ready--for he had secretly tried it before, and he had straps of the
right length which he brought out of his pocket. Mary and Artie stood
admiring his cleverness, but Baby Dolly was not pleased. She wanted to
go on, and of course she did not understand what they were all stopping
for. So she began to cry. Poor little girl, what else could she do?
"P'raps she's cold," said Mary. "It _are_ raver cold standing still."
"Cold, Miss Mary, oh dear no," said Emma. "She's that wrapped up she
_couldn't_ be cold. But she's very fractious to-day; she was crying and
fretting all the time nurse was dressing her. Nurse spoils her--if she
were my baby I'd be a bit sharper with her."
"Poor Dolly--dear Dolly," said Mary, going up to her little sister and
trying to sooth her. "Don't cry--Dolly's going to have a beauty drive
and go _so_ fast."
"Get out of the way, Mary," shouted Leigh. "We're just starting, don't
you see?"
He held the reins in his hand and ran back behind the perambulator.
Then he made Emma take her place as usual, holding the bar--not that
there was any _need_ for her, he said, but just to make quite sure of
Fuzz not running away--they were a funny-looking party, Emma between the
reins and Fuzzy wagging his tail in his hurry to be off. Dolly left off
crying and stared about her, wondering what it all meant.
"Gee-up, old fellow," said Leigh, Emma giving a little starting push at
the same time, and off they went, Mary and Artie at each side,
breathless with excitement.
At first it seemed all right. They went slowly, and Fuzzy did nothing
worse than stand still every minute or two, and look over his shoulder
to see what was behind him. The first and second times he did this
Leigh only called out, "All right, old fellow--gee-up then." But when
it got to the third and fourth time Leigh grew impatient.
"Get on with you, you stupid fellow," he shouted, cracking the whip he
held.
And poor Fuzzy, meaning no harm, not understanding what all the unusual
noise and fuss were about, did the only thing he could--he _did_ "get
on." He started off, running as fast as he could, and that was pretty
fast, for the carriage was very light and Emma was pushing--she could
not have helped pushing as she was holding the bar and running. And for
a minute or two she laughed so that she could not speak. The silly girl
thought it was such fun. And seeing her laughing, Leigh thought it was
all right and laughed too. But--on went Fuzz, excited by the laughter,
and thinking _he_ was doing all right, till--at the corner where the
lane they were in crossed another lane or road, wider but much rougher,
and full of deep cart-ruts--instead of keeping straight on he turned
sharply round, for some doggy reason or other, and rushed, still at the
same speed, along this road to the right.
"Fuzz," shouted Leigh, tugging at the left rein. "Fuzz, wo-a then,
wo-a."
"Stop, stop," screamed Emma.
But it was no use; in another instant Emma, already panting with running
and laughing, found herself flung off as it were, and Leigh, a moment
after, lay sprawling at full length on the road, the reins torn out of
his grasp, while Fuzzy in the greatest delight rushed on, on--the
perambulator after him, swaying from side to side; and, oh dear, dear--
sweet baby Dolly inside!
Mary and Artie were some little way behind, but when they came up, this
was what they saw: Emma sitting on the road crying and rubbing her arm,
Leigh tearing along as fast as he could go, and a small dark thing far
in front of him, bumping up and down among the cart-ruts, and swinging
from side to side, as if every moment it would tumble over, or else be
broken to pieces.
Mary stood still and screamed. Artie ran on at once, shouting at the
top of his voice, though I do not quite know what good he thought that
would do. And then Mary ran after him and left off screaming, which was
sensible. Indeed, I think both of them showed more sense than silly
Emma, though she was grown up and they were little children. For what
could be less use than to sit on the ground crying and rubbing her
bruised arm?
But somebody else--somebody none of them was thinking of at all--showed
the most sense of any one.
The Perry children were coming along a field-path at one side of the
road--it was dry weather, and the path was pretty hard and smooth, so
Comfort and the old wicker perambulator got on pretty well with Janie
and the baby beside them of course--when the sound of Leigh's shouts
came across the hedge. Janie had quick ears and still quicker wits.
"Someat's wrong," she cried, and she plumped the baby into her sister's
arms. "Now hold he," she added, and for once Comfort had to leave off
reading--indeed the flop of the baby made her book drop to the ground--
and get it into her head that the care of her three baby brothers was
_her_ business for the present, while Janie flew to the gate, which she
scrambled over or crept under, I am not sure which, in less time than it
takes to tell it, and found herself in the middle of the road.
Leigh was some little way off still; but nearer than he, and coming
nearer every instant, was something else which made even Janie's stout
little heart rise up to her mouth, as she afterwards said. It was the
perambulator from the Hall, the beautiful new perambulator, banging and
dashing along, dragged by something that looked just then very like a
little wild beast instead of a well-disposed tame doggie. And yet it
was only looks, for Fuzzy was in the best of spirits, quite pleased with
himself, and thinking that Leigh's shouts only meant he was to go faster
and faster.
But Janie had not time to think anything. She only saw that the
perambulator was not empty; she only took in that it must be stopped.
She would not have been frightened, even if she had thought the dog was
mad, for she was very brave. But she knew that her voice would have no
power over him, and she made her plan in a moment. Just as the wildly
excited dog came close to her--luckily just then he was going pretty
evenly--she threw herself in his way, which made him slacken his pace,
and then, somehow or other, she got hold of the edge of the carriage,
holding on to it with all her strength, and she was very strong for her
size. And then--what happened exactly she could not tell--I fancy Fuzzy
must have given a bound forward to get rid of this troublesome
interruption to his grand race--but before she knew where she was they
were all in a jumbled-up heap on the ground, Janie, Baby Dolly,
perambulator, and dog--Fuzzy barking loudly; baby, Janie was thankful to
hear, crying and roaring, but, as far as the small sister-nurse could
make out, unhurt.
She had got her safely in her motherly little arms by the time Leigh
came up. The first thing he did was to seize hold of the reins which
had been dragging behind, for after a glance had shown him that the baby
was in good hands, Leigh's next thought was for the new perambulator.
"She's not hurt?" he exclaimed.
"No, no, sir. I think not," said Janie. "She fell soft--right atop of
me, Master Leigh. Hush, hush now, Miss Baby dear. Don't 'ee cry.
There's Miss Mary a-coming along. Hush, hush, my dearie."
And in surprise at the strange voice, and pleased by the sweet tones,
Dolly actually did leave off crying. She opened her eyes wide, and by
degrees a smile--a real smile--crept out of her mouth, and brightened up
all the little face, still shining with tears. So that when poor wee
Mary, all out of breath, and white with fear for her darling sister,
came up to the little group, Janie was able to say, while Dolly
stretched out her hands in welcome--
"She's not hurt, Miss Mary, dear. She's not hurt."
Leigh by this time had unfastened Fuzz, and set the perambulator on its
legs, or wheels, again. He was all trembling; and though it was not a
hot day of course, the drops were standing out on his forehead.
Wonderful to say, the perambulator was not broken or spoilt.
"Oh Mary," said Leigh. He could scarcely speak. "Oh Janie, I don't
know how to thank you."
Janie opened her eyes. It had never come into her head that she had
done anything to be thanked for. But she was, as I said, very sensible.
"Master Leigh," she replied, "I couldn't a' done less--that's nothing.
But I can't think how Mrs Nurse could a' let you do such a thing."
"Nurse is ill; at least she's hurt her leg," said Leigh. "It's Emma
that's with us."
"Then she oughter be ashamed of herself," exclaimed Janie, as if she was
nineteen and Emma ten, instead of the other way about. "What's the good
of a big person to look after children if she's as silly as them. I beg
your parding, Master Leigh, but this 'ere precious baby's had a narrer
escape, and no mistake."
Janie was hot with indignation and fright.
"But you tried yourselves, Janie," said Leigh, feeling rather small.
"Ned harnessed himself to--"
"_That_ was quite different," said Janie. "And I told you the other day
as it hadn't turned out a good plan at all. I'm sure if I'd had any
notion you were thinking of such a thing, I'd have--" she stopped, then
went on again, "But you'll never try such tricks again, now, will you,
Master Leigh? And you'll go straight to your dear mamma as soon as you
get in and tell her all about it."
"No, I'll never try it again, I promise you. And of course I'd rather
tell about it myself, Janie. You won't, will you? They'd be making
such a song of it all through the village."
"Very well then, I won't say nothing," agreed the little woman. "And
I'll tell Comfort--she's in the field there behind the hedge with the
babies. I'll see to it that Comfort says nothing neither."
Then Janie put Baby Dolly tenderly back into her nest again, charging
the children to stay close round her till Emma came up, "for fear the
sweet little lady should be frightened again." There was a vision in
the distance of Emma slowly making her way to them, and Janie did not
want to see her.
"I've a sharp tongue in my head, and I'd mebbe say too much," she
thought.
So she hurried back to her own charges, whom she found quite content;
_the_ baby sprawling on Comfort's knee, and Comfort seated on the grass,
late October though it was, buried in her book. There was no need to
warn _her_ to say nothing. She looked up with a start as Janie ran up
to them.
"What have you been doing, Janie?" she said. She had no idea anything
had been the matter!
Emma was very cross when she got to the children. She was vexed at her
own arm being bruised, and began scolding Leigh as if he had done it all
on purpose to hurt her.
"You said it would be as right as could be, Master Leigh," she grumbled,
"and how was I to know? _I'm_ not going to be scolded for it, I can
tell you."
"You needn't be afraid," said Leigh, very proudly. "I'll take all the
blame on myself when I tell mamma."
Then Emma changed her tone and began to cry.
"You'll not really tell your mamma," she said. "_Of course_ I'd be
blamed, and I'd lose a good place, and what my poor mother'd say I don't
know. It'd go near to break her heart, and she's not well. Oh Master
Leigh, you'll not tell? There's no harm done, and Miss Dolly's none the
worse, and we'll never be so silly again. Miss Mary, my dear, do ask
Master Leigh not to tell."
Mary could not bear to see any one cry, least of all a big person. Her
lips began to quiver, and she looked timidly at her brother.
"Leigh," she began.
And Leigh too was very tender-hearted. But both of them, and Artie too,
felt deep down in their hearts that however sorry they might be for Emma
they were not doing right in giving in to her.
They did promise not to tell, however; and then the little party turned
homewards in very low spirits, though they had such great reason for
thankfulness that their dear little sister was not hurt.
They hardly spoke all the way; and Dolly, by this time, tired out by all
her adventures, had fallen fast asleep.