"THE CHINTZ CURTAINS."
"O lovely land of fairies,
You are so bright and fair."
"The chintz curtains."
Cousin Magdalen stopped for a minute.
"Are you getting tired, dears, any of you?" she said.
All the four heads were shaken at once.
"Oh dear no," said Maudie.
"In course not," said Hoodie.
And "It's a vezy pretty story," said Hec; while Duke faintly echoed,
"Vezy pretty."
So Magdalen, thus encouraged, went on.
"You begin to understand now why I said you might call the story 'the
chintz curtains,'" she said. "We're now got like to the real beginning.
At least I needn't explain any more about Lena--you must just fancy her
arriving one afternoon at Rockrose Farm. It was a nice bright afternoon,
though the winter was scarcely over, and little Lena already began to
feel stronger and better when she ran out into the garden at one side of
the house for a breath of fresh air after the long drive from the
railway. Her father had brought her to the station, and there Mrs. Denny
had met her, so that he might go straight back by the next train without
losing any time.
"'Oh, how nice it is,' she said to Mrs. Denny, as she stood in the
middle of the little grass-plot beside the old sun-dial, and felt the
sweet fresh air blowing softly over her face. 'How pretty the garden
must be in summer.'
"'Yes, my dear,' said Mrs. Denny. 'The flowers are very sweet. It seems
to me there never were such sweet ones. And do you hear that sort of
soft roar, Miss Lena? Do you know what that is?"
"Lena stood quite still to listen, and a pleased look came over her
face.
"'Yes,' she said, 'I believe it is the sea. It is like far-away organs,
isn't it?'
"'And sometimes in stormy weather it is like great cannons booming,'
said Mrs. Denny.
"But just then it was difficult to think of storms or cannons, or
anything so unpeaceful. Nothing could seem more perfectly calm and at
rest than that dear old garden the first time Lena ever saw it. I don't
think anything (any place perhaps I should say) can be more delicious
than a little nest of a place like Rockrose, sheltered from the high
winds by beautiful old trees, and yet open enough for the sea breezes to
creep and flutter about it, and sometimes even to give what Lena called
'a salty taste' to the air, if you stood with your mouth open and got a
good drink of it. But I mustn't go on talking so much about the outside
of the house, or I never shall get to the inside, shall I?
"Well, after Lena had admired the garden, and promised herself many nice
runs in it, Mrs. Denny took her into the house again. They passed
through the kitchen, which had a little parlour out of it, where already
tea was set out--it was such a delicious old kitchen, the paved floor as
white and clean as constant scrubbing could make it, and the old
cupboards and settles of dark wood shining like mirrors--they passed
through the kitchen and across a little stone hall with whitewashed
walls, out of which opened the best parlour, only used on very grand
occasions, and up two flights of stone steps ending in a wide short
passage running right across the house. At one end of this passage Mrs.
Denny opened a door, which led into a sort of little ante-room, and here
another rather low door being opened, Lena followed Mrs. Denny into the
bedroom which was to be hers. It was not a very little room--there were
two windows, one at each side--one of them looked out on to the garden,
the other had a lovely view far away over the downs, to where one knew
the sea _was_, though one could not see it. But fond as Lena was of
pretty views, she did not run to the window to look out. She stood still
for a moment and then ran forward eagerly to the end of the room, where
the bed was placed, crying out with delight,
"'Oh, that's the bed--that's the very bed you told me about, dear Mrs.
Denny--the bed I did so want to sleep in. Thank you so much for
remembering about it. Oh, how _beautiful_ it is--I shouldn't mind being
ill if I was in that bed.'
"It really was a rather wonderful bed. It was a regular four-poster, if
you know what that is--a bed with wooden posts at each corner, and
curtains running all round, so that once you were inside it, you could
if you liked draw them so close that it was like being in a tent."
"I know," said Maudie, "I've seen beds like that. But I don't think
Hoodie and the boys have--let me see; oh yes, I can tell them what it's
like. It's like the bed in our _best_ doll-house--the one with pink
curtains trimmed with white. You know?"
"Yes," said Hoodie, "the one where Miss Victoria has been so ill in,
since she's got too ugly to sit in the drawing-room. I know."
"But it's such a weeny bed," said Hec, "was zour little girl no bigger
than zat little dolly, Cousin Magdalen?"
"_Of course_," said Maudie, hastily. "How stupid you are, Hec."
"Maudie," said her godmother, and Maudie got very red. "Maudie meant it
was the same _shape_ as that, but much bigger, Hec dear. Just the same
as the piano in the study is the same shape as the one in the
doll-house, only much bigger."
"Oh zes," said Hec.
"A great deal bigger than any of the beds people have now," continued
Magdalen. "It was really big enough to have held six little Lenas
instead of one. But it was the curtains that made it so particularly
wonderful. They were very old, but the colours were still quite bright,
they had been washed so carefully. And the pattern was something I
really could not describe if I tried--it was the most delicious muddle
of flowers, and trailing leaves and birds, and here and there a sort of
little basket-work pattern that looked like a summer-house or the
entrance to a grotto.
"Lena stood feasting her eyes upon these marvellous curtains.
"'I never did see anything so nice,' she said. 'Can I see the pictures
when I'm _in_ the bed, Mrs. Denny?'
"'Oh yes, my dear, they're double--the same inside as out,' said Mrs.
Denny, turning them as she spoke.
"'How nice!' said Lena; 'well, if I'm late for breakfast, Mrs. Denny,
you'll know that it'll be with looking at the curtains.'
"'I'm not afraid but that you'll sleep well in this bed, Miss Lena,'
said the old nurse. 'There's something very lucky about it. Many a one
has told me they never had such sweet sleep or such pretty dreams as in
our old bed. It's maybe that the room is a very pleasant one, never
either too hot or too cold, and there's a beautiful scent of lavender,
Miss Lena, all through the bed, as you'll find.'
"Lena poked her little nose into the pillows on the spot.
"'Oh yes,' she said, 'it's _beautiful_.'
"'But you must be, or any way you should be, hungry, my dear,' said
nurse. 'And tea's all ready. Come away down-stairs, and then you must go
to bed early, you know. I must take great care of you, so that you'll
look quite a different little girl when you go home again.'
"Lena did justice to the tea, I assure you. She thought she had never
enjoyed anything so much before as the nice things Mrs. Denny had got
ready for her. And after tea there was her little box to unpack, and her
things to arrange neatly in the old-fashioned bureau and on the shelves
of the large light closet, opening out of the room. And by the time all
this was done Lena began to feel both sleepy and tired, and was not at
all sorry when Mrs. Denny told her that she thought it was quite time
for her to go to bed.
"And oh how very comfortable she felt when she was fairly settled in the
dear old bed! It was _so_ snug--just soft enough, but not too soft--not
the kind of suffocatingly soft feather-bed in which you get down into a
hole and never get out of it all night. It was springy as well as soft,
and though the linen was not perhaps so fine as what Lena was accustomed
to at home, it was real homespun for all that--and through everything
there was the delicious wild thymy sort of scent of lavender which Mrs.
Denny had promised her. Lena went to sleep really burrowing her nose,
which was rather a snub one to begin with unfortunately, into the
pillow, and the last words she thought to herself were, 'I could really
fancy myself in a sort of fairy-land. And oh how nice it will be in the
morning to lie awake and look at those lovely curtains.'
"There was not so very much lying awake however the first morning as she
had expected. It was so late when she awoke that the sun was quite a
good way up in the sky, and Mrs. Denny was standing by the bed smiling
at her little visitor, and wondering if she would have to make fresh
bread and milk for her, as the bowlful that was ready would be quite
spoilt with waiting so long. Up jumped Lena.
"'Oh, dear Mrs. Denny,' she said, 'I have had such a beautiful, lovely
sleep. And you don't know what funny dreams I had. I dreamt that there
were fairies hidden in all the little crinks of the curtains, and I
heard them talking about me and telling each other that it was the first
time I had slept there, and they wondered if I was a good little girl.
And then I thought I heard one say "if she is good we can please her
well." _Wasn't_ it funny, Mrs. Denny?'
"'Very funny,' said Mrs. Denny, smiling. 'But you know, Miss Lena, I
told you you'd have beautiful sleeps and dreams here, didn't I?'
"'Yes,' said Lena, 'and I'm _so_ hungry, you don't know how hungry I
am.'
"So she jumped up and washed and dressed and said her prayers, and came
down to the kitchen as fresh and bright as a little girl could look. And
Farmer Denny declared, if the roses in the gardens had been in bloom, he
could have thought she had been stealing some for her cheeks--for
already there was certainly more colour in them than when she had
arrived. So the time passed very happily, and Lena did not feel the
least dull either by day or by night.
"It had not been the time of the full moon when she first came, but a
few days later it happened to be so, and as the weather was beautifully
fine just then there were almost no clouds in the sky, and the moon had
it all her own pretty way. One night Lena woke up suddenly--it seemed to
her that she had been asleep a long, long time, and she didn't feel the
least heavy or confused, but quite fresh and brisk as if she had had all
the sleep she needed. And the shining moonlight came pouring in at the
windows in a sort of wide band of light falling right across the bed and
showing out most beautifully the colours and patterns on the
old-fashioned curtains. They looked even brighter than by daylight, and
as Lena lay and looked at them, she saw wonderful new pictures that she
had never noticed before--the sort of pathway between the green branches
and foliage that seemed to lead up to one of the little bowers or
grottos grew more distinct, and as Lena tried to trace it out with her
eyes, she suddenly saw a little figure moving along the path she was
looking at. She rubbed her eyes and looked again--the figure had
disappeared, but instead she saw clearly in the moonlight two
butterflies flitting about the same path, darting first backwards, then
forwards, as if inviting her to follow them.
"'If only I were a fly and could walk straight up a wall,' thought Lena,
'I'd really step up that curtain and see if I couldn't make my way into
that grotto,' and then she laughed to herself at the fancy--'as if any
one _could_ walk into a picture!' she said.
"And then it seemed to her that the butterflies melted into the
leaves--and there was no movement at all on the curtains.
"'It must have been the trembling of the moonlight that made me fancy
it,' Lena said to herself. And the next morning when she awoke she stood
up on tiptoe to examine the particular spot where she had seen these
curious things. It looked just the same as the other parts of the
curtains--only half hidden among the bushy leaves near the rustic
doorway that Lena called the arbour, she found out a queer brown little
face that she had not seen before. It seemed to her to peep out at her
suddenly, and she fancied that it was the face of the figure she had
watched moving along the path in the moonlight.
"'How funny that I never noticed it before,' she said, for when she
looked at the same place on the pattern in other parts of the curtains
she noticed the same queer little brown face, just like a monkey peeping
from among the branches.
"She was so surprised that she thought she would ask Mrs. Denny if _she_
had ever noticed 'the monkeys,' but somehow it went quite out of her
head. It was not till the next night that she remembered anything more
about them.
"For the next night, strange to say, she wakened again in the same
sudden way. And again the moonlight was shining right on the curtains,
and this time Lena felt more sure than the night before, that something
was moving about among the leaves and flowers and branches that seemed
to stand out so brightly.
"'Oh dear,' she thought to herself, 'I _do_ wish I could creep up quite
quietly and see if it is one of those monkeys that has got loose. Oh
please, Mr. Monkey, if you are a fairy, _do_ come down and fetch me,'
she added, laughing.
"But her laughter stopped suddenly. Almost as she said the words the
most curious sound reached her ears--at first it seemed like the buzzing
of lots and lots of flies, bluebottles, midges, bees, cockchafers--every
sort of creature of the kind, so that Lena started up in a fright. But
no--no flies of any sort were to be seen, but nearer and nearer, louder
and louder came the sound, till at last it grew into a sort of chant, as
if a great number of little feet were stepping along together, and a
great number of little buzzing voices singing in time to them. And
glancing up at the curtains Lena plainly saw a whole quantity of tiny
brown figures stepping--you couldn't call it sliding, they moved too
regularly--downwards in the direction of her face. And if she had looked
closer, she would have seen that every place in the pattern where the
wee brown faces peeped out was empty! The monkeys had come to fetch her!
Where to?
"That I must try to tell you--but as to how she got there, that is a
different matter. She never knew it herself, so how could any one else
know it? All I can tell you is this--she found herself standing in
front of a little house--a pretty little house, something like the
carved Swiss cottages that your mamma has in the library--there was a
garden all round it, thick trees and bushes at the sides, and as Lena
suddenly, as it were, seemed to awake to find herself there, she heard
at the same moment a sort of scuttling all about her, just as if
a lot of hares or rabbits had taken flight. And when she quickly
turned round to look, she saw disappearing among the shrubs ever so
many--_quantities_ of pairs of little brown legs and feet--the bodies
and heads belonging to them being already hidden in the green.
"'It must be the monkeys,' thought Lena, and as this came into her mind
it struck her too that this place where she found herself was the very
place where she had wished to be. Till this moment she had somehow
forgotten about it, but now she looked about her with great
interest--yes--this cottage must be the very place she had called an
arbour, for the fence in front of it was of rustic work like dried
branches twisted together, and there at the side was one of the trees
with the thick leaves where the monkey's face had peeped out--and at the
other side were the plants with the big bobbing red flowers, and the
other ones with the hanging yellow lilies--all the things she had
noticed so often. Lena had really got her wish. She was _in_ the chintz
curtains. Only there were no birds, no butterflies, nothing moving at
all--no monkeys' faces peeping at her from among the leaves. Everything
was perfectly still.
"'What shall I do?' thought Lena. 'Shall I go into the house and look
about me? I wonder if it would be rude.'
"It didn't seem so, for the door was left open--wide open, as if on
purpose; so, after knocking once or twice and no one coming, Lena walked
in. Such a pretty, but such a queer little house it was. It was more
like a nest than a house. There was a little kitchen with cupboards all
round, with open lattice-work doors through which you could see what was
in them. They were filled with all sorts of queer provisions, nuts,
acorns, apples of different kinds, and some fruits that Lena had never
seen before. Then in the parlour the carpet was the prettiest you could
imagine. Lena could not think what it was till she stooped down and felt
it with her hands, and then she found it was moss, real live growing
moss, so bright and green, and so soft and springy. And the sofa and
chairs were all made of growing plants, twisted and trained so that the
roots made the seat and the branches the back. Each was different. Lena
sat down in one or two, and could not tell which was the most
comfortable, they were all so nice, and so pretty. For each was
ornamented with a different flower that seemed to grow in a wreath on
purpose round the back and down the arms. There was no fireplace in the
room, but there were some nice furry-looking rugs lying about, and when
Lena looked at them closely she saw they were made of moss too--moss of
a different kind, browner than the other, plaited together in some
wonderful way with the soft flowery tufts kept outside. Lena lay down on
the sofa and covered herself up with one of these rugs.
"'How comfortable it is! What an awfully nice little house this is!' she
said to herself. 'But how I do wish some one would come to speak to me.
It feels rather like Silverhair in the Three Bears. Mr. Monkey, if this
is your house, please come and speak to me.'
"No sooner had she said this than there stood before her a wee brown
figure--brown all over, face, hands, feet and all--only his eyes, which
sparkled brightly like beads, were black. He was dressed in a short
scarlet jacket, and on his head was a scarlet cap with a long, very long
tassel. He took off the cap and bowed low--very low at Lena's feet--the
top of his head when he stood upright reached about to her knees, and he
bowed so low that his nose nearly touched her toes. Lena felt rather
uncomfortable--she was not used to such very great respect, and she felt
a little startled to think that she had called out to the little man, as
'Mr. Monkey.' No doubt he was rather like a monkey, but still--
[Illustration: "He took off the cap and bowed low."]
"She stood to think of something nice and civil to say, but she could
not, try as she might, think of anything better than 'Thank you, sir.'
"It did quite well--the little man seemed quite pleased, for he bowed
again as low as before, and in a clear silvery voice like a little bell
he spoke to Lena.
"'What are your biddings, little lady?'"
"'Oh,' said Lena, 'I do so want to see all this funny place. It was very
kind of you to bring me up here, but I would like to see it all. May I
walk all about your garden, Mr. Mon--oh, I beg your pardon,' she added
in a hurry.
"'Never mind,' said the little man. 'One name is as good as another. My
brothers and I have been watching you, and we wish you well. If you will
come with me I will show you all I can.'
"'Oh, thank you,' said Lena, jumping up in a moment.
"The little man walked out of his house, and standing in front of it he
gave a long shrill whistle. Immediately from every direction whole
quantities of other little brown men appeared--they seemed to tumble out
of every branch of the trees, to peep up out of the ground almost at
Lena's feet--till at last she felt like Gulliver among the Lilliputians.
"'Fetch the carpet,' said the first little man, who seemed a sort of
commander, and before Lena had time to see where it came from a
beautifully bright blue sheet was stretched out before her, held all
round by the dozens and dozens of little brown men, as if they were
going to shake it.
"'Step on to it, little lady,' said her friend.
"Lena did so, and no sooner had her feet touched it than she felt it
rise, rise up into the air, up up, till she wondered where she was going
to. Then suddenly, as suddenly as it had begun to move, it stopped.
"'Where are we?' she said, just then noticing for the first time that
her own particular little brown man was sitting at her feet.
"'At the top,' said the little man; 'it would have taken you a long time
to climb up here, and we did not want to tire you. Now you shall see our
gardens.'
"He jumped off the carpet, and Lena followed him. All the other little
men had disappeared, but she hardly noticed it, she was so delighted
with what she saw. Before her were beautiful flower paths--paths edged
with tall growing flowers of every colour indeed, for they never stayed
the same for half a moment, but kept changing like rainbows--melting
from one shade into another in the loveliest way, like the coloured
lights at the pantomime.
"'Oh, how lovely!' said Lena. 'May I gather some, please?'
"The little man shook his head.
"'You cannot,' he said, walking on before her.
"After a while he turned down another path.
"'These are our birds,' he said; and Lena, glancing more closely at what
she had thought were still flowers, saw that they were trees with
numberless branches, on each of which sat or perched a bird. They were a
contrast to the many-coloured flowers, for each bird was of one colour
only, and all the birds on each tree were the same. There was a tree
perfectly covered with pure white ones, another with all red, a third
all blue, and so on. And the birds swayed gently backwards and forwards
on the branches, in time; though there was no sound, it seemed to Lena
like hearing beautiful music. And somehow she did not feel inclined to
speak or to ask any questions. She just quietly followed the little man,
feeling happier and more pleased than she had ever felt in her life.
And soon there came another change. Looking up, Lena saw that all the
birds and flowers were left behind, and she was walking through a sort
of thicket of leafless bushes. She wondered why they were so bare, when
everything else in the brownies' country was so rich and bright.
"'These are our orchards,' said her guide. 'But we keep the fruit packed
up till it is wanted. It keeps it fresher. See now!' As he spoke he
touched a bush.
"'Grow,' he said, and in an instant there came a sort of flutter over
the tree, and then at once there sprouted out all over the branches the
most tempting-looking clusters of fruit. They were something like
beautiful purple grapes, but richer and more luscious-looking than any
grapes Lena had ever seen. And while she was admiring them the little
man touched another, and instantly oranges, golden and gleaming like no
oranges she had ever seen before, glistened out all over the branches.
And the little man stepped on in front, touching the trees as he went,
till the whole path was a perfect glow of fruits of every colour and
shape. So beautiful were they to look at, that Lena somehow felt no wish
to eat them.
"On went the brownie, touching as he went, till suddenly the path came
to an end, and Lena saw in front of her a high wall of bright green
grass, with steps cut in it.
"'Up here,' said her little friend, 'are our fish-ponds. Would you like
to see them?'
"Lena nodded her head. She was getting quite used to wonderful things,
but the more she saw the more she wanted to see. She followed the little
man up the steps, and when she got to the top she stood silent with
surprise and delight. Of all the pretty wonders he had shown her, what
she now saw was the prettiest. Six tiny lakes lay before her, and in
each a fountain rose sparkling and dancing. And the fish that were in
each lake rose up with the waters of the fountain and glided down them
again as if almost they had wings. In each pond the fish were of
different colours. There were, let me see, six ponds, did I not say?
Yes--well in the first the fish were gold, in the second silver, in the
third bronze; and in the three others even prettier, for in them the
fish were ruby, emerald, and topaz. I mean they were of those colours,
and in the water they gleamed as if they were made of the precious
stones themselves. Lena gazed at them in perfect delight, and held out
her hands so that the spray from the fountains fell on them, half hoping
that by chance some of the fish might drop into her fingers by mistake.
"The little man looked at her and smiled, but shook his head.
"'No,' he said, as if he knew what she was thinking, 'no, you cannot
catch them, just as you could not have gathered the flowers.'
"Lena looked disappointed.
"'I would so like to take some of them home,' she said, gently.
"'It cannot be, child,' said the little man. 'They would have neither
life nor colour out of their own waters. There are many, many more
things to show you, but I fear the time is over. I must take you home
before the moon sets.'
"'But mayn't I come again?' said Lena. She had not time to hear the
little man's answer, for again there came the quick rushing sound of the
quantities and quantities of little feet, and again a sort of cloudy
feeling came over Lena. She tried to speak again to the brownie, but her
voice seemed to have no sound, and all she heard was his shrill whistle.
It grew shriller and shriller till at last it got to sound not a whistle
at all, but more like a cock's crow. And just then Lena opened her eyes,
which she did not know were closed, and what do you think she saw? The
morning sun peeping in at the lattice-window of her bedroom, and
lighting up in its turn, as the moon had done a few hours before, the
queer quaint patterns on the old chintz curtains. And down below in the
yard Farmer Denny's young cock was busy telling all its companions, and
little Lena as well, if she chose to listen, that it was time to be up
and about."
Magdalen stopped.
"Is that all?" said Maudie.
Hoodie said nothing, but stared up for her answer.
"I don't know," said their cousin.
"You don't know?" said Maudie. "Cousin Magdalen, you're joking."
"No, indeed I'm not. I really don't know. I daresay there's lots more if
I had time to tell it you. The little man told her there were lots and
lots more things to show her."
"Did her ever go back again?" asked Hoodie gravely.
"I hope so--I think so," said Magdalen. "But I don't think she ever went
back quite the same way."
Hoodie stared harder. Maudie looked up with a puzzled face.
"Cousin Magdalen," she said, "I believe after all you've been taking us
in. There is something in the story that means something else. How do
you mean that Lena went back again to the brownies' country?"
"I mean," said Magdalen, "that it was the country of fancy-land--a
country we may all go to, if----"
"If what, please?"
"If we keep good and kind and sweet and pretty feelings in our hearts,"
said Magdalen, slowly, and a little gravely. "But if we let ugly things
in--crossness, idleness, and selfishness, and ugly creatures like
that--the pretty fairies will never come near us to fetch us away to see
their treasures. The brownies would not let untidy or ill-tempered
children into their neat little nests of houses. And even if such
children _did_ get into fairy-land or fancy-land--whichever you like to
call it, where there are such numberless beautiful and strange
things--it would not be fairy-land to them, because their poor little
eyes would be blind, and their poor little ears deaf."
"I think I understand," said Maudie, "and some day perhaps, Cousin
Magdalen, you'll tell us some more about Lena."
"Perhaps," said Magdalen, smiling.
But Hoodie said nothing, only stared harder up in her cousin's face with
her big blue eyes.
And Hec and Duke, who had been amusing themselves since the story was
over and the talking had begun, by sticking daisies on to a thorn,
trotted up to Cousin Magdalen to kiss her and say, "Zank zou for the
pitty story."
[Illustration: Hec and Duke ... sticking daisies on to a thorn]