Fairies Afield Part 23

"Three, two, one, Journey's done,

and--all will be as you desire."

She smiled as she spoke.

"You may test it at once," she said. "Place them on the floor. Now----"

"Three, two, one, Journey's done,"

repeated Clodagh, touching the letters, as she did so, "B," the last, first. Then she shut her eyes, and when she looked again--yes--there they were, the two neat capacious trunks, as before.

"Oh," she said, with a sigh of delight. "It is too good to be true! How can I thank you?"

But as she looked up, holding out her hands in grat.i.tude, lo and behold--Cousin Felicity had vanished. Glancing round quickly, however, Clodagh fancied she saw a shadow of something disappearing at the turn in the pa.s.sage. Whether this was so or not, who can say?

[Ill.u.s.tration: Lo and behold--Cousin Felicity had vanished.]

"I will thank her again when we meet downstairs," thought the girl, little imagining that this was not to be.

Just then the door behind her opened, and Paulina, her eyes still but half-awake, peeped out.

"Oh, child," she said, "is it late? You up and dressed already! I must hurry."

"There is plenty of time," Clodagh replied. "It is still early."

"How well and bright you look!" Paulina exclaimed. "You must have slept well. So unlike my last travelling companion--that silly Pelagie--not of course, dear, that I mean to compare you with a maid-servant--but the airs she gave herself! She could never sleep the first night in a strange place, nor the last, because she was nervous about the pack----Oh," she broke off, "I see you've got rid of all the old bags and bandboxes. What a good thing! I didn't know you had such a nice sensible trunk, so neat, and just like mine."

"Yes," said the young girl. "It really holds more than I require. I have planned it all, Paulina. You shall never have any trouble about the luggage if you will leave the whole to me."

"I shall only be too thankful to do so," said her cousin lazily. "I think you are a genius, my dear. The way you have arranged my dresses and everything is simply perfection."

Half an hour or so later, the two, summoned by the breakfast gong, made their way downstairs, where most of the family were already a.s.sembled, and as the others dropped in, Clodagh looked round eagerly for her new-old friend. But come she did not, and after a short delay Mrs.

Marriston turned to her elder daughter.

"Thomasine, my dear," she said. "I think you had better go upstairs to enquire for Cousin Felicity and offer to escort her. I scarcely like to begin breakfast without her, for fear of seeming to lack respect."

For those old-fas.h.i.+oned days were very ceremonious and any want of deference to the eccentric old lady was not to be thought of. Thomasine went at once, but in a very few minutes returned alone, holding a sc.r.a.p of paper in her hand, looking somewhat disconcerted, though she was half laughing also.

"She has gone!" she exclaimed, "bag, baggage and all, leaving this."

Mrs. Marriston took the paper eagerly. "Oh, _can_ we have offended her?"

she said anxiously, but a moment after, she too laughed. "No, I see it is all right," she went on, reading aloud the note in her hand.

"'Farewell for the present, kind friends,' it said. 'A sudden summons to----'--no, I can't decipher the word--'cuts short my visit. Fare you well, one and all.'"

They looked at each other. Annot took the paper from her mother. "No,"

she agreed, "I cannot read it. But we never do know where she goes or how she goes! It may be Kamschatka or the moon."

"Or fairyland," murmured Clodagh.

"All the same," said Paulina, who, for her part, was by no means sorry for the mysterious lady's flight, "it cannot but be rather trying to have such a guest. She expects to be received with regal honours, and then off she goes like 'old Mother Goose when she wanted to wander.'"

The others laughed.

"My dear Paulina," said Annot, "you are a _young_ 'Mother Goose'

yourself, with your love of travelling."

"Quite so," Paulina agreed. "But you will allow that I give my hospitable friends _some_ notice of my intentions. And, after all," she added, "some day, when Clodagh and I have had enough of wandering, we shall settle down, no doubt."

"And, to do our late guest justice," said Mrs. Marriston, "erratic as she is, her visits have never brought us anything but good luck. Her crossing the threshold is always beneficent. This very morning we have excellent news from India of our dear Humphrey, who, we heard by the last mail, was seriously ill. He has quite recovered."

She spoke of a younger son in the--in those days--_very_ far-off East.

Clodagh had glanced up with quick interest when Paulina alluded to "some day settling down." Her feelings at present were very mingled. She scarcely understood them herself. She was ready keenly to enjoy the novelty and exhilaration of travel, seeing new places and people, and now that her one misgiving had been so marvellously removed, her spirits rose high. But still--she had not yet been away a week from her own old home, hers no longer, and already there were moments when, if she closed her eyes, she saw in fancy the dear rugged walls of Grey Rocks--the scene of her own and Paulina's childhood--and heard the splash of the waves at the foot of the cliffs, and then she would feel the tears creeping into her eyes, and she thought to herself, "I suppose it is what is called 'home-sickness,' but I must not give way to it. If only I could hope some day to go there again!"

It was not a very ambitious hope, for Grey Rocks was but a small domain, and had Clodagh's father lived it might have still been their own.

In the meantime, however, she greatly enjoyed the stay at the Priory, and every day she grew cleverer with regard to her duties. She practised folding and arranging Paulina's many garments till she really reached perfection, and she was so methodical and careful, yet never fussy or overwhelmed, that Paulina declared she had never been so splendidly looked after in her life. So far this was most satisfactory. Still, when the week to which their visit had been extended drew to its close, it must be confessed that Cousin Felicity's young protegee was not without nervousness as to the working of the spell.

"Suppose," she thought, "suppose I had dreamt it all!" But then her glance fell on her own beautiful new trunk--"No, no," she added, "of course it was real and true."

And when the morning of their departure came, nothing could have exceeded her care to remember everything.

She waited till Paulina, fully attired for the journey, had gone downstairs for a few last minutes with her hosts, then she rapidly deposited the precious despatch-box in a corner of her own trunk, in which there was still room; closed and locked both; recited as directed the words of the spell, shut her eyes, and waited, as before.

Yes--all was right. There lay the miniature luggage, and in another moment both toy boxes were safe in her reticule, and with light feet and a light heart she ran down to join the others, just as the chariot which was to take them to the nearest posting-house drew up at the door.

"Everything is ready," she said to Paulina. "I have seen to the luggage," and Paulina nodded carelessly.

"The ladies' things have gone on in a cart, I suppose?" asked one of the Marristons. The dignified butler replied that he understood it had been seen to, the truth being that he had not thought about it; and on his side the old hall-porter took for granted that the housemaids had had it conveyed down the back-stairs, that is to say if _he_ thought about it at all!

Anyway, as the mysterious lady had promised, so it fell out. Clodagh was troubled with no enquiries, no interference.

And arrived at St. Aidan's Wells, where they were to spend some weeks, all continued satisfactory. Once, it must be confessed, on their way, Clodagh had a fright. For they had to make two breaks in the long journey, spending one night at each, and on the second occasion, after Clodagh had closed and locked and repeated the spell, lo and behold, it refused to act! She started in terror, then her eyes fell on her own little slippers, which she had forgotten to pack. In a moment she had repaired the mistake, and then--yes, all went as before.

"But," said the girl to herself, "I must be _more_ than careful. For possibly a second lapse on my part might not be forgiven."

They remained at the watering-place for a month or two, then started off again; this time for a lively seaside town where Paulina had arranged to meet friends; then, as the autumn drew on, to country-houses in the hunting districts, for the elder girl was a good horsewoman, as indeed was Clodagh also. What true Irish girl is not?

It was all very pleasant and exciting and the cousins enjoyed it, yet sometimes Paulina declared herself tired and wishful for a rest, even though her journeys were accomplished with the smallest possible trouble. The variety of their visits called of course for constant renewal of dresses and additions to them, but never did the two spell-bound trunks seem too full, and every time she packed and unpacked, Clodagh thought with inexpressible grat.i.tude of the "fairy lady," as to herself she called her, and her bestowal of the strange secret.

"But for her, I could not have managed," she often reflected. "I should have had to give it up--it would not have been fair to Paulina, and then where could I have gone, for home in my own country I have none? And oh, how, through all the novelty and amus.e.m.e.nt and excitement of travelling, in spite of the kindness I meet with, oh how I sometimes long to be in dear grandmother's old turret room, listening to the faint whirr of her spinning-wheel, and the louder sound of the waves breaking on the cliffs below! I can feel the breeze that always blew in if the cas.e.m.e.nt in the deep window-seat was open; I can taste the salt flavour of the spray that sometimes on stormy days flew up to where I sat! Oh dear old home! I wonder if Paulina ever feels about it in the least as I do?" and then she would fall to wis.h.i.+ng that she could somehow earn money enough to buy back the old "eyrie," and be its little chatelaine.

"How I would enjoy receiving Paulina, and making _her_ enjoy it!"

But for these day-dreams she had not much leisure, and she knew that she should not indulge in them. Still the longing was always there, and as time went on it grew more persistent and intense.

"It is just home-sickness," thought Clodagh, and she felt that she must not give way to it.