Willie the Waif Part 5

"Bless, you, ma'am," said that good lady, "you couldn't keep him back if you tried. He's that set on going. I'll be there to bring him home safely."

"Well," said Miss Elton, "he looks much better than when I first saw him.

You are better, are you not, Willie?" turning to the child.

"Yes, please'm," answered Willie, with sparkling eyes. "I'm comin' to the treat. Bob's comin' 'ome early to take me."

There was great excitement at Mrs. Blair's that afternoon. Bob arrived home in good time, and Mrs. Blair provided the boys with soap and water with which they rubbed their faces until they shone. Then she produced a needle and thread, and much to Bob's delight did what she could towards drawing his rags together. It was an almost hopeless task, and they really did not look much better when they were done; but Bob was as proud of the st.i.tches which prevented the wind blowing through the holes on to his little bare legs as a young prince would have been of a new suit of clothes, and it was with beaming, happy faces that the two children set off hand-in-hand to take their share of the good things provided for them.

But when they entered the hall they almost thought they had come to the wrong place, for the room was completely changed. Two long tables went down the length of the room, covered with clean white cloths, and loaded with heaped-up plates of bread-and-b.u.t.ter and cake. Steaming urns of tea stood at each end, surrounded by cups and saucers. The walls had been prettily decorated with holly and evergreens, and the red berries glistened in the gaslight. The platform at the end of the room had been taken away, and in its place stood an enormous tree covered with toys and parcels.

Several of the children were standing round it in groups, for the most part in silence, as though overawed with the unusual sight. Some of the bolder ones ventured nearer and proceeded to examine the articles hanging upon the tree.

Willie's eyes, however, were fixed upon one object in the middle of the room. A little girl, beautifully dressed in white, with a broad, blue sash, looking exactly like a fairy, was holding Miss Elton by the hand.

Willie had caught sight of her directly he entered the room, and stood looking as though fascinated.

"Look, Bob," he whispered; "is she a angel?"

"Dunno," said Bob. "Should think she looks like one."

Just then Miss Elton turned her head and saw the two boys. Keeping hold of the little girl's hand, she came towards them.

["See, Gladys," she said; "this is my little boy Willie."]

"G'adys' 'ickle boy too," said the child, slipping her hand confidingly into the boy's.

Willie coloured to the roots of his hair; but was too overcome by the little lady's possession of him to speak.

Miss Elton 'smiled "that's right, Gladys. Now you take him and show him all the pretty things," and she left the children together while she went back to her helpers.

"Come 'long, boy," said Gladys. "See all ze pitty sings on ze tree," and, tugging at his hand, she pulled him down the long room, and very soon the little waif, and the daintily-dressed maiden were the best of friends, and chatting away as though they had known each other all their short lives.

"Now, children," said Mr. Elton, ringing a bell as he spoke to gain attention, "all who are hungry and want some tea must come and sit down at the tables."

For the next five minutes all was confusion as the children noisily took their places, Gladys and Willie bringing up the rear.

"Miss Elton, look!" exclaimed a young lady who had come to help attend the children. "Did you ever see such an extraordinary likeness?"

"Likeness between whom?" asked Miss Elton.

"Why, your little niece and her ragged knight," said the young lady.

"Can't you see, now they are close together? Their eyes are quite alike, and they have the same curly hair."

"It is so indeed," said Miss Elton; "but it has never struck me before."

"What a sweet face that boy has!" said her companion. "I should love to dress him in velvet and lace."

There was no time for more to be said, for the children were hungry, and although Miss Elton had brought several friends to help her and her brother with their ragged visitors, they were kept exceedingly busy.

Many of the little waifs had never had such a feast in their lives, and it was astonis.h.i.+ng to see the way in which they drank the tea and devoured the cake.

After the children had eaten as much as they could, they were allowed to get down from the table, and while the tea was being cleared away they romped about in the room. Miss Elton taught them to play "Oranges and Lemons," "Nuts and May," and other games which are familiar to most children, but quite strange to little London arabs such as were gathered together in that room.

When they had tired themselves out with play they all sat down, and while they ate oranges Mr. Elton talked to them for a little while about the One whose birthday they were celebrating, and Miss Elton sang to them.

The greatest event of the evening was left until the last.

By this time some of the parents had come in, among whom was Mrs. Blair, and they seemed to enjoy the fun quite as much as the children.

They looked on with great interest while a gentleman brought round a hat in which were a number of pieces of paper, each marked with a figure.

"Now, children," said Mr. Elton, "you must all take a paper out of the hat and see what the number is that is marked on it, and when I call out the number you must stand up and you will get something off the tree.

Now, then; attention! Number fourteen!"

Instantly two boys stood up. "No, no," said Mr. Elton, "you haven't both number fourteen!"

"Please, sir, this chap's wrong," said a voice; "'e ain't got no fourteen."

It was soon discovered that the boy had mistaken number forty-one for fourteen, and many other similar mistakes occurred, owing to the ignorance of the children. But there were many willing helpers, and at last the business was settled. Each child received a toy and a warm article of clothing. For a few minutes the uproar was deafening, with the blowing of whistles, shaking of tambourines, beating of drums, etc., as each child proceeded to try his own particular toy.

Willie had been fortunate enough to obtain a box of soldiers and a pair of warm knitted cuffs, which were tried on and much admired by Gladys, while Bob was the happy possessor of a tin whistle and a thick woollen comforter.

"Wear it home," said Miss Elton, smiling at him; "you will find out how warm it is."

It was late when the children separated, tired and happy. It was an evening never to be forgotten by them, and years after, when they had grown up to be men and women, some of them hardened by sin, this Christmas treat at the mission school stood out in their memories as the one piece of happiness in their miserable lives.

CHAPTER VI

LITTLE BERTRAM

"Arthur," said Miss Elton to her brother, as they sat by the fire that evening talking over the events of the day, "has it ever occurred to you that there is a striking likeness between that little Willie Brown and our Gladys?"

"No, dear," was the answer, "I cannot say that it has. I have often thought him very superior to the other children, and he is not in the least like his brother Bob."

"Well, Nora Graham called my attention to the fact this afternoon, and it has haunted me ever since. Do you think, Arthur, it _could_ be by any chance? Little Bertram would have been just about his age now," wistfully.

"My dear Winnie," returned her brother, "I should not allow myself to raise any such hopes on that point if I were you. You have been disappointed so often."

"Still," she persisted, "there is just a chance, and we dare not leave a single stone unturned to find poor Marion's boy."

"No," he replied, "but we have so little to go upon. It is four years now since Marion died, and the only clue we could have at all is that tiny mark upon the shoulder."

"Well," she said, "if I go and see the child and find out what I can from him, will you go to Primrose Place and see if you can trace anything of his parents?"

"Certainly I will," was the answer. "You know, dear, I am as anxious to find the child as you are. It maddens one to think of the little chap being brought up in one of those filthy alleys. I don't wonder it killed his mother."

"No, indeed," said Miss Elton, her eyes filled with tears. "Poor Marion!"

Some years before our story opens Miss Elton's only sister had married an artist living in a pretty village in Surrey, and there about a year afterwards their little boy Bertram was born. His parents idolized him, and he was the pet and plaything of every one who had anything to do with him. When he was just about one year old, his mother, Mrs. Vincent, had in her service a housemaid who had a violent temper. It happened that one day Mrs. Vincent had occasion to reprove her for some fault, and the girl was heard to declare that she would "pay her out for it." Soon after Mr. and Mrs. Vincent went to spend a day with some friends living at a distance, leaving little Bertram in charge of his nurse, thinking her a woman they could trust. Great was their dismay, however, when they returned to find both Bertram and Ellen, the housemaid, missing.

The nurse seemed to be almost beside herself with terror, and they could get very little information from her. She said that Ellen had offered to mind the baby while she went to dress. She missed them when she came down, but thinking that they were somewhere about the grounds, she took no notice but went on with some work in the nursery. When tea was ready she went out to look for them, but they were nowhere to be seen. Feeling thoroughly frightened, she called the cook, and together they searched the house and grounds, but no trace of Ellen or the baby could be found. Poor Mrs.

Vincent was almost out of her mind with grief when she realized that her darling baby was lost. The father haunted the police stations and hospitals longing for news of the boy. But it was all in vain, little Bertram had completely disappeared. Mr. and Mrs. Vincent never saw their child again; a month or two afterwards the father was thrown from a trap and killed, and when Gladys was born soon after, the poor mother could not recover the shock and she followed her husband. On her death-bed she made her brother and sister promise that they would look after Gladys, and also do all in their power to find Bertram.