The Old Pincushion Part 17

'But I _can't_ think what the stuff in my pocket could be,' said Philippa; and neither of the others could help her to an idea.

'I think,' said Neville, 'we'd better be going on to old Davis's. It's about twenty minutes' walk from here.'

'Very well,' said the little girls; and they set off, Philippa declaring that she was now 'quite, quite rested.'

They were heartily welcomed at Dol-bach. Mr. Davis introduced his wife, who was as pleasant-looking for an old woman as he for an old man. He had been 'hoping they'd look in some of these days,' he said; and Mrs.

Davis had evidently heard all about them, though she, and Mr. Davis too for that matter, looked puzzled as to where Philippa had come from. They were very much interested to hear all about her, and congratulated her on having had a pleasanter ending to her journey than had fallen to the share of her friends.

'It didn't seem so far a way from Hafod to Ty-gwyn yesterday as in the carrier's cart, did it, sir?' said Davis to Neville. 'But the road's a deal better than in my young days; and Mrs. Wynne, she's many a time told us how her mother--the Captain's great-aunt she'd be--never went to Hafod but once a year, and thought a long time about it before she did that. She was a clever lady too--you'll have seen the chairs she worked--wasn't it chairs?' he added, turning to his wife.

'Yes, indeed,' she said. 'Your aunty's not showed them to you? Ah, well, she must feel it hard, things being as they are. But our lady,--that's what we call Mrs. Wynne,--she was handy with her fingers too. I can show you the present she brought me last Christmas as ever was.'

'Oh, yes!' Kathie exclaimed. 'The pincus.h.i.+on! Mr. Davis told us of it.'

It was duly fetched and exhibited. It was rather a new-fas.h.i.+oned kind of pincus.h.i.+on, being one of those made out of a small cigar-box, which served for box and pincus.h.i.+on at once. It was most neatly made, covered with rich and uncommon-looking brocaded satin, which Mrs. Davis eyed with great approval, and edged with a narrow frill of old thread lace.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

'Such a useful shape, too,' said Mrs. Davis; 'I'd never seen one like it before, but Mrs. Wynne told me she'd covered a many. The old silk was a piece of a gown of her mother's. I believe there's some fine things of the old lady's still at Ty-gwyn.'

'Yes, aunty has some lovely pieces; she's promised to show us them,'

said Kathie. 'Perhaps she'll give us some, Phil.'

Philippa looked up eagerly at this. She had been examining the pincus.h.i.+on with the greatest attention.

'Do you think she would perhaps, really?' she asked, when they were on their way home, having promised Mr. and Mrs. Davis to come to see them again some day soon.

'I daresay she would,' said Kathleen. 'Why are you in such a fuss about it, Phil?'

'Oh, because--because,' said the little girl, 'I _have_ got such an idea into my head. If I could but manage it! Do you think, Kathie, I could possibly make a pincus.h.i.+on like that to send to mamma for her birthday?

It would be so beautiful!'

'I don't see why you shouldn't,' said Kathie; 'I don't think it would be so very difficult. And I'm almost sure aunty would give you some bits.'

'If I had one very pretty piece for the top,' said Philippa, 'a plainer kind would do to frill round it, and _quite_ plain would do to line it--just silk that one could get in any shop. And I could get some lace that would do very well. I have some money, you know. Couldn't we write to some shop in London?'

'I should think so. And you'd have to get some stuff to scent it--that one was scented, didn't you notice? What fun it would be to make it! If I had anybody to make one for, I'd like to make one too.'

'Kathie!' Philippa exclaimed, 'you have your own mamma!'

'Oh, but,' said Kathleen, blus.h.i.+ng a little, 'I don't remember her, you see. I've never made her anything. It's different from you. Still--if I thought she'd like it. She's often written about my learning to sew and to be neat-handed, and I don't like that sort of thing, so I never answer that part of her letters.'

'It would be _very_ nice for you to make her something, to show her you are neat-handed. Wouldn't it, Neville? Don't you think so too?' asked Philippa.

'Yes,' Neville replied. 'I think it would be very nice. Only there's one difficulty--where are you to get the boxes? There must be a box for that kind of pincus.h.i.+on.'

Philippa's face fell; but Kathie's, on the contrary, brightened up.

'I know,' she said. 'I have an idea. But I won't tell you just yet.

Leave it to me, Philippa--you'll see.'

'But, Kathie,' said the little girl plaintively, 'you won't forget, will you? You so often do, you know. I've only a fortnight before the box goes. Uncle and grandmamma had got it nearly all ready before she got ill; there are books and lots of things going out to papa, that can't wait. And if I can't do the pincus.h.i.+on, I must think of something else.'

'Oh, I won't forget,' said Kathie confidently. 'The first wet day--and it's sure to be rain again soon; that's how it does in these hilly places; it's never long the same thing. Well, the first wet day, it would be a capital way of getting through the time to make pincus.h.i.+ons.'

Philippa said nothing, but Neville noticed that her little face still looked dissatisfied.

'Never mind, Philippa,' he whispered; 'she's only teasing you. I'll see that she doesn't forget. And if she can't get a box for you, I'll try if I can't.'

'Thank you, Neville! oh, thank you so much!' said Philippa fervently, drawing a deep breath. 'How I wish you were my brother!'

Kathleen caught the last word. 'That's always the way,' she said.

'Perhaps if he was your brother, he wouldn't be so nice to you as he is.' Kathie was in one of her mischievous, teasing moods, and when this was the case she said things she did not really mean. But Philippa was rather matter-of-fact. She looked quite distressed.

'Oh, Kathie!' she began.

'Well?' said Kathie.

'You don't really mean that, do you? I know you've often told me that Neville was a _very_ good brother to you. I'm sure she doesn't really mean it, Neville.'

Neville smiled at her anxious little face.

'No, I'm sure she doesn't,' he said. 'It is a shame of you to tease Phil, Kathie. You've made her look quite troubled, poor child.'

'I'm very sorry,' said Kathleen. 'Phil isn't to look troubled _once_ the whole time she's here. Tell me, dear, what can I do to make up for teasing you?'

Philippa slipped her hand through Kathie's arm.

'Kathie,' she said, 'if you would but see about the pincus.h.i.+ons without waiting for a wet day. Now I've got it into my head, I do so want to do it. And I think it would take a good while to make, do you know--longer than you think, to do it quite neatly.'

'Very well, you little fusser,' said Kathie. 'I'll see what I can do.

But mind, I'm not going to be mewed up sewing and bothering at pincus.h.i.+ons all day, if it's beautiful, fine weather like this.'

'I don't want you to do anything of the kind,' said Philippa. 'That's why it's so much better not to put off about it. We can take several days to them, and do a little every day.'

'Humph!' was Kathleen's reply.

'Why do you say that?' asked Philippa.

'Oh,' said Kathie, 'I know what your "doing a little bit every day"

means. I know it of old. When she gets a thing in her head, Neville, she fidgets at it till it's done, and won't give herself any peace.'

'Well, then, Kathie,' said Philippa, 'I just promise you I won't do that way about the pincus.h.i.+on, if only you'll set my mind at rest by helping me to get it begun.'

And she looked so pitiful, speaking in her quaint, earnest way, that Kathleen could not help kissing her, and promising to do what she could at once.

That evening, after tea, Kathie touched her aunt's arm as they were leaving the dining-room.