The Rectory Children Part 19

'I _think_ perhaps she's at Celestina's,' she said. But in less time than could have been expected back dashed Rough. No, Biddy was not, had not been at Pier Street, but Celestina and her mother were following him as fast as they could to the Rectory--Celestina had an idea--she would explain it all--but she begged Mrs. Vane to send down to the sh.o.r.e; the sea was out, and it was still light enough to see any one there a good way off.

A party was at once despatched to the sands, in vain, as we know, for by this time Mr. Mildmay had landed from his boat and was hurrying along to calm Mrs. Vane's anxiety. He arrived there a quarter of an hour or so after Mrs. Fairchild and her daughter, so Celestina had had time to explain the idea which had struck her--we know what it was, and that it was the true one--and to relate to Mrs. Vane all her reasons for imagining it possible that self-willed, obstinate Biddy had set out on her own account to walk to the lighthouse.

So when Mr. Mildmay appeared and told his strange story, his hearers were able to explain what to him and Mr. Vane had seemed a complete mystery.

'How _could_ she be so naughty?' Mrs. Vane exclaimed. But Alie touched her gently.

'Only, dear mamma,' she whispered, 'think; she might have been drowned.'

'And so might your father, and as it is, I tremble to think what the consequences may be for him. I do feel as if I could not forgive Bridget,' said Mrs. Vane excitedly.

Mrs. Fairchild was very, very sorry for her, but she was a brave woman.

She managed to draw Mrs. Vane aside.

'Dear madam,' she said, 'I do feel for you. But we must be just.

Remember the child had no idea of what would be the result of her folly.

It was really but a piece of childish folly or naughtiness. And it may be a lesson for all her life; it may be the turning-point for her--if--if only you would--if you can meet her--gently--if nothing is said to harden her.'

'I will try. I promise you I will try,' said Mrs. Vane very softly. 'But oh, Mrs. Fairchild, if it has made my husband ill!' and her voice broke.

'We must hope not--hope and pray,' said Celestina's mother in a low voice.

'And there was something so interesting I wanted to tell you; I had a letter to-day from Madame d'Ermont--such a nice letter. And now all this has spoilt everything,' went on poor Mrs. Vane.

'Never mind. You will tell me about it another time,' said Mrs.

Fairchild soothingly. 'Would it--excuse my suggesting it--would I be in the way if I stayed till they come? I have some experience as to chills and accidents of all sorts--and I would like to see how they are.'

'Oh, thank you,' said Mrs. Vane fervently. 'I should be most grateful.

I have no one now with any head about me since my last maid left.'

And Mrs. Fairchild stayed--not that evening only, but all night, sending Celestina home to explain matters to her father.

CHAPTER XI

AND ITS CONSEQUENCES

'"Love will make the lesson light.

... Teach me how to learn it right,"

Through her tears smiled Daisy.'--ANON.

For Mrs. Vane's troubles came thickly just then. Before night it was evident that both Biddy and her father were not to escape all bad results from the chill and wetting; and the Seacove doctor, who was sent for at once, looked grave, shook his head as he murmured that it was no doubt most unfortunate. He would say nothing decided beyond giving some simple directions till he should see how the patients were the next day.

Biddy, after a violent fit of crying, which came on when she found her father could not come 'to say good-night,' and begging, among her sobs, to be forgiven, fell asleep, and slept heavily, to wake again in an hour or two, feverish, restless, and slightly delirious. This, however, was on the whole less alarming, for very little will make a child light-headed, than Mr. Vane's condition. There was no sleep for him, poor man; he was racked with pain and terribly awake--nervously anxious to know the ins and outs of Biddy's escapade, and to soften it as much as possible in her mother's eyes. Mrs. Vane kept her promise of being very gentle with Biddy, and indeed, when in her room, and seeing the poor little thing so ill, it was not difficult to be so. But once away from her, and in sight of her husband's sufferings, the irritation against Biddy grew almost too great to keep down. And Mrs. Vane was not very good at keeping down or keeping in her feelings, and each time she burst out it seemed to make Mr. Vane worse. There was no going to bed for either her or Mrs. Fairchild that night; indeed, what she would have done without Celestina's wise and gentle mother I do not know. It was she who sensibly made the best of it all, soothing Mrs. Vane, who really needed it almost as much as Biddy and her father; and the only s.n.a.t.c.hes of sleep Mr. Vane got were when her soft and pleasant voice had been reading aloud to him.

'I don't know how to thank you,' said Biddy's mother tearfully the next morning early, when she at last persuaded Mrs. Fairchild to lie down a little. 'Can't you stay all day to rest?'

But Mrs. Fairchild shook her head, smiling.

'I must go home,' she said. 'At the latest I must go home by ten o'clock. It will be all right till then. I can trust Celestina to see to her father's breakfast and everything, and there's not much doing in the shop before then. Celestina will have let Miss Neale know not to come.'

'How well you have brought your little girl up--how thoughtful and womanly she is; and to think that she is only a year or two older than Bridget!' said Mrs. Vane sadly.

'It has not been exactly my doing,' Celestina's mother replied. 'I often think the very things I would have wished different for her have been the best training. She has _had_ to be helpful and thoughtful; she has had her own duties and share of responsibility almost all her life.'

'Biddy never feels responsible for anything--not even for learning her lessons or being ready for meals,' said her mother.

'Well, that is just what wants awaking in her. This lesson may show her that even a child is responsible, that a child may cause sad trouble.

One would rather she had learnt it the other way, but it may be what she needed.'

Mrs. Vane sighed. She wanted to be patient, but she could hardly bring herself to feel that a lesson which was to cost Biddy's father such suffering, nay, even to risk his life perhaps, would not be too dearly bought.

The doctor came, but he was not much more outspoken than the night before. Biddy was to be kept very quiet, the more she could sleep the better; as for Mr. Vane, he _hoped_ it would not be rheumatic fever, but it was plain he feared it. And he advised Mrs. Vane to get a trained nurse.

A trying time followed. For some days it seemed almost certain that Mr.

Vane was in for rheumatic fever; in the end he just managed to escape it, but he was sadly weakened, and the cough, which had disappeared since his coming to Seacove, began again. It would be weeks before he could leave his room.

And Biddy, too, did not get well as had been expected. She lay there white and silent as if she did not want to get better, only seeming thoroughly to wake up when she asked, as she did at least every two hours, how papa was, and sinking back again when the usual answer came of 'No better,' or 'Very little better.' Her mother was very kind to her, but she could not be much with Biddy, and perhaps it was as well, for it would have been almost impossible for her to hide for long her great unhappiness about Mr. Vane.

Mrs. Fairchild came to the Rectory as often as she could; sometimes she sat with Biddy for an hour or more at a time, but Biddy scarcely spoke, and Celestina's mother was both sorry for her and anxious about her.

'There seems no one able to pay much attention to her,' she said one evening at home; 'poor Mrs. Vane is so taken up, and no wonder, with her husband, and Rosalys is as busy as she can be, helping and seeing to everything.'

There came a little voice from the other side of the table: the Fairchilds were at tea.

'Mother, do you think I might go to see her?' it asked. 'I'd be very quiet.'

'I'll ask,' Mrs. Fairchild answered. 'You might come with me to-morrow and wait outside while I find out if it would do.'

Mrs. Vane had no objection--Biddy was really not ill now, she said. It was just one of her queer ways to lie still and refuse to get up.

Perhaps Celestina would make her ashamed of herself. So Celestina was brought upstairs, and tapped gently at the door.

'Come in,' said Bridget, though without looking up. But when the neat little figure came forward, close to the bedside, and she glanced round and saw who it was, a smile came over her face--the first for a long time.

'Celestina!' she exclaimed joyfully. But then the smile died away again, and a red flush covered her cheeks and forehead. 'No,' she said, turning on the other side, 'I don't want to see you. Go away.'

Celestina felt very distressed. But she wanted to do Biddy good, so she put back her own feelings.

'Please don't say that,' she said. 'I'll stay as quiet as anything, but please don't send me away. I've been so wanting to see you.'

There was a slight turning towards her on this, and at last Biddy lifted her head from the pillow a little.

'Did you truly want to see me?' she said.

'Of course I did. I've been very sorry about you being ill,' Celestina replied.