Mabel Quiller-Couch

“ Look at those bad sparrows, fighting over a piece of bread. Listen to the pigeons calling for their tea, and look at my bed of verbenas, all raised from seeds by my very own hand. It is only Audrey who dreams. Audrey, will you give us your thoughts, as they are not to be bought?"
"Yes," said Audrey, her grey eyes shining bright with happiness. "I am thinking that in all the world there is nothing so beautiful as home, no happiness so great as——"
"As that which comes from helping others," said Mrs. Carlyle softly, and drawing her dearly loved daughter to her. ”

“ The fresh air gave them all such appetites that everything they had to eat and drink seemed to be doubly good; the same beautiful air and the sunshine sent their spirits soaring, and set everyone in the mood to laugh and joke. All stiffness and shyness had so completely vanished that the visitors already seemed like old friends rather than new ones; and Audrey was just thinking how very happy life might be, even at home in Moor End, when, in a pause in the chatter, a sharp pitiful cry floated across the stillness to them. ”

“ Mrs. Vivian looked up at her gratefully. "I feel as though I should enjoy a cup of tea, as I never have in my life before." With her relief at finding Irene's injuries so comparatively slight and with her heart full of the deep, almost sacred joy their talk had brought to her, the paleness had vanished from her cheeks, and the happiness in her heart glowed in her pretty, kind eyes.
"Audrey dear, do you think it would be possible for your mother to see me for a little while? I want so much to thank her for all the kindness you are all showing to my bad girl. ”

“ Daphne sprang to her feet, but Irene rose more reluctantly. "Will you be alone while we are away?" she asked, lingering by Mrs. Carlyle's sofa. "It seems so selfish to go away and leave you. I wish I could be with you—or you with us."
Mrs. Carlyle looked up at her with shining eyes. "I would love a picnic on the moor above all things," she said. "Another summer, perhaps, if you are here, we will all go. I shall look forward to that, Irene, as eagerly as if I were a child. Perhaps Joan will be able to go too—the big baby and the little one!" ”

“ The unexpectedness of the blow, the pain, and the indignity, roused Tom to real anger, and for a few moments there was an ugly scene. Debby cried, Tom raged, and Audrey scolded. "You can fold the old thing yourself," cried Tom, flinging out of the room. Audrey dragged him back.
"I shall not, you shall do it yourself if you have to stay here all day. I shall speak to father about your behaviour, and I do think you might have tried to behave decently and not have made such a noise when Joan is ill, and we want her to sleep. You think of no one but yourselves—you two." ”

“ Mrs. Carlyle looked at her smiling. "Don't you think it is often a help to ask oneself, 'what would I like others to do to me? What would I myself prefer?'" But Audrey coloured painfully, as the thought of her own return home came back to her. How entirely she had lost sight of the love and the welcome in her care about external appearances. She was silent so long that her mother looked at her anxiously more than once.
"I think you are very tired, aren't you, dear?"
"Oh no, mother."
"Perhaps you need a holiday. Would you like to go back with granny to Farbridge for a week or two?" ”

“ Audrey made a dart at the bed where her bag, and a host of other things, lay in the utmost confusion. "I had quite forgotten," she said, diving in the bag for her purse, "granny sent half-a-crown to you, and a shilling each to Debby and Tom."
Faith's eyes grew rounder than ever. "I never knew such a lovely day as this. Why, it is like a very nice birthday!" she cried, overwhelmed with happiness. "Oh, Audrey, I can get my muslin now, and—and perhaps I can make my blouse by Sunday! Will you come to Miss Babbs' with me to-morrow to choose it?" ”

“ Audrey glanced about her, speechless, "How—how small and—and old-fashioned the room looks," she said at last. "At granny's they are so high, and they look so light and bright. Where am I to put all my things? You see I have rather a lot of clothes."
"Have you?" said Faith wistfully, "well it's lucky that I haven't. I will give you another drawer in my chest of drawers. Now I must run down to baby. Mary is cooking, and there is only Debby to look after her. Will you come down when you are ready? It will soon be tea-time, and I want you to see baby. Oh, Audrey, she is such a darling. ”

“ Mr. Carlyle had to go and pay some calls in the village, so Audrey walked home alone; and very, very much alone she felt, after the lively companionship of the last month. The garden, when she reached it, wore a new air of desolation, and when she caught sight of one of Debby's dolls lying forgotten on the grass, she picked it up and hugged it sympathetically, out of pity for its loneliness. The silence in the house and out was just as oppressive. ”

“ Carlyle realised the mistake she had made, and roused herself. "Oh, no, dear. Your mother is better—a little, I mean, and she is stronger, but her doctor says she must lead an invalid's life, lie down, and not walk about, or exert herself, for a whole year, and your father says they need you at home. They need your help, and your mother will be glad of your companionship."
The relief from her first dreadful fear was so great that Audrey's spirits rose high. Change is always exciting too, and to feel that one is needed is very pleasant; it makes one feel grown-up and important. ”

“ But Audrey's eyes had been opened, and for the time, at any rate, she saw some things very clearly. "No," she said promptly, "if you can wash them in cold water, I can. You sit down and rest, and talk to me. You must be dead tired," and Faith obeyed, wondering.
That night Audrey, in a state of great delight, slept in her new room. It was very warm certainly, so close up under the roof, but it was as clean and neat as a new pin—all the untidiness was left behind in Faith's room. Audrey never gave a thought to the muddle and discomfort there. ”

“ Begin at home, there lies a life-time's toil.
Weed your own garden fair for all men's sight,
Before you plan to till another's soil.'
"Shall we try to do that, my Audrey, you, and little Tom, and I? I think we should be happier:
"'If you are sighing for a lofty work,
If great ambitions dominate your mind,
Just watch yourself, and see you do not shirk
The common little ways of being kind.'"
With his other arm around her the trio strolled away across the moor. ”

“ What good taste you have, Audrey! Other people always choose prettier things for me than I should choose for myself."
Deborah pulled at her sleeve anxiously. "Fay—Fay, I want to get something for mother," she whispered in a tone that could be heard all over the shop, "and I want to get something for daddy, and Joan, and Mary."
"Oh!" said Faith, and forgot all about her own purchases. "You must get something for yourself too, darling." ”

“ Faith, the same happy, bright-faced Faith, strolled up to the window, one hand tucked affectionately through old Mr. Vivian's arm, the other leading Joan. In the sunshine her hair glowed like a halo round her head; on the bosom of her white dress glowed her ruby cross. Her frock was only of the cheapest soft muslin, but it was sound and neat, her shoes had all their buttons on, her stockings were guiltless of darns of another colour. In her pretty brown eyes love beamed on all, and happiness. ”

“ She would wait a day or two, she decided, and then make the suggestion to Faith. Faith would agree, she was sure, if she thought it would give pleasure. She was always so easy-going and good-tempered; so ready to fall in with any plan for making others happy.
Audrey's spirits brightened, and the brightness showed in her face. Her father, watching her anxiously, saw that the cloud had lifted, and thought that perhaps after all it might only have come from over-tiredness, and a very natural sorrow at leaving her grandmother and her home of four years. ”

“ In the distance she caught sight of a man on horseback galloping across the moor, and began to weave a story of bearers of secret tidings, plots and enemies, in which the distant horseman was the hero and she the heroine, and she had just reached, in her own mind, a village wedding and little girls strewing in the path of a noble one-armed hero and a bride, white as a lily save for her crown of burnished hair, when Irene returned, and with a little sigh of weariness dropped on the ground beside her. ”

“ A little flicker of pain passed over granny's face. "I shall never finish it now," she whispered. "Whenever the end comes, one leaves many things undone. Some do not matter so very much. It is the thought of the things that do matter—neglected—those we might have helped, that stab one to the heart."
With a deep sigh she turned her face on her pillow. Audrey, kneeling beside her, holding her hand, presently laid it gently down, thinking that she had gone to sleep, and, stepping softly to a chair by the window, sat down to wait for her to wake and speak again. ”

“ Irene, satisfied, folded her work, and departed. Faith sank down contentedly, and fell into a doze. Audrey sat for a while, wondering what she should do next. "I think I will go up and work at that manuscript, as long as the daylight lasts," she decided; "the sooner it is done the better," and crept softly out of the room, so as not to disturb Faith. But halfway up the stairs she met Irene dashing down like a wild thing.
"Oh, Audrey," she cried, "come quickly! Where is Faith? and, oh, I want Debby and Tom too. Such news! Oh, do call them. Mr. Carlyle wants you all." ”

“ And for nearly an hour she patiently listened and advised.
"You must not be too sure of yourself yet, dear," she said at last, a somewhat weary note in her voice. "You must be content to read and practise for a long time yet——"
"But mother, I am sure I could write a story as good as one I read a few days ago—there was simply nothing in it."
"But Audrey, you surely would not be content to write a story only as good as a very poor one! Your aim should be to write one better than a very good one." ”

“ Debby came rushing out of the dining-room tempestuously. "Have you made yourself ready for dinner?" asked Audrey, laying a detaining hand on her.
"Yes, yes, ever so long ago. We are waiting for you. There is the nicest pudding for dinner that we have had for ever so long, but daddy says we mustn't begin it till you all come. Oh, do make haste."
Irene came flying down the stairs. "I am so sorry to be so long," she cried apologetically, "the string of my apron got into a knot, and I really began to think I should have to wear it at dinner." ”

“ Deborah, coming out a few minutes later, found him standing, can in hand, rather wet about the feet and legs, gazing thoughtfully at Faith's new garden.
"I've got an idea," he whispered mysteriously, "such a jolly one! Have you any money?"
"I've got a penny. Daddy gave it to me yesterday."
"I've got two ha'pennies, the one Audrey gave me, and one I had before. Let's go down to Miss Babbs' and buy two penny packets of flower seeds, and sow them, and not say anything about it. Then when they come up everybody'll be surprised." Debby was enchanted. ”

“ If I could sell my stories I could help father tremendously, and that is far more important than dusting and cooking, and looking after the children. Faith can do that, she has no taste for writing. When lessons begin I shall have less time than ever for it, so I really must do all I can now." And fired with enthusiasm and importance, she shut herself up more and more in her attic, and Faith was left to look after her mother, and the children, and the house, pretty much as she was before; and if the muddle did not grow greater, it certainly did not grow less under Audrey's rule. ”

“ Oh! but she did want to get some new curtains, or sheets, and—and Faith was dreadfully in need of a rain coat, and: "Oh, dear!" she cried, rousing out of her day-dream, "and, after all, I shall probably not even have a five-shilling consolation prize! How silly I am to let myself think of it. It is enough to prevent its coming."
She got on to her feet, and shook herself, to shake the dried grass and heather from her skirt and her long hair—to shake off her foolishness too. Well, five shillings would be useful. It would buy mother some fruit, and wool for socks for father. ”

“ She knew what it all meant for Phipps. If Granny Carlyle died, her home of forty years was gone from her. For the first time in her life Audrey realised what we all come to realise as we grow older—that the sorrowfulness of death is not with those who go, but with those who are left behind. ”

“ Carlyle, gazing, absorbed and troubled, into the fire, did not see her blanched cheeks and the dread that filled her eyes. He had no suspicion of the awful fear which had haunted her every waking moment, and even her dreams, or he would not have kept her in suspense while his thoughts ran on to plans for the future.
"No, dear," he said at last, "no dear, she is not worse, but the doctor says it will be a long time before she is well again—well enough to walk about and take up her old life. For a year, poor dear, she must lie on a sofa, and live the life of an invalid. ”

“ Don't you think a good motto for us all would be 'others first.'"
"I don't think Faith needs that motto, mother," said Audrey wistfully, which was a great admission for her, and the first step on the new road she meant to tread.
"Oh yes, she does, dear. We all do, some more, some less."
"Well, I am one who needs it very much more," and Audrey smiled ruefully as she raised herself. "Now I am going down to see what I can do to help. I will begin by laying her breakfast-tray as nicely and temptingly as ever I can," she thought, as she hurried away. ”

“ We all love having you—and it is so good for the girls. They have no real companions here."
When, a few minutes later, Irene went downstairs and into the garden, her face was grave, but her eyes still glowed. "Sunshine!" Mrs. Carlyle had called her. She was like sunshine in the house. What a glorious thing to have said of one—and she had done nothing to deserve it either. Well, here was her chance. She had not been in the Vicarage those few days without learning that there was a lot to be done, and few to do it. Here was her opportunity!
Faith was in the garden looking at the flower bed. ”

“ How you have grown, Audrey, and how nice you look, darling. You are going to be tall, like your father, and you have his features." Audrey's face brightened, fond as she was of her mother, it was her father she wished to resemble. Faith had her mother's short tip-tilted nose and big brown eyes, and Audrey had many times envied her the latter, but if she herself had her father's straight nose and aristocratic features, she felt she would not grudge Faith her pretty eyes. Faith was short too—as her mother was—a soft, sweet dumpling of a girl. Audrey admired tall people. ”