Better than Play Part 10

"You never seem to be years and years older than me, Aunt Maggie," Bella said one day, "for you always seem to understand and to like what I like."

Aunt Maggie smiled. "Some people's hearts don't grow old as fast as their bodies," she said thoughtfully. "I think it must be that which makes them understand."

"I hope my heart won't ever get old," said Bella seriously. "It must be dreadful not to take any interest in people or anything."

One Sunday, the last of this old life, so comparatively happy and free of care, Mrs. Langley stopped Bella just as she was leaving.

"I want you to come in to see me to-morrow," she said, "and bring Tom with you. I am making a print frock for you, and a holland coat for him to wear to market on Sat.u.r.days. They'll be much more comfortable for you both than your thick cloth ones." Then, in answer to Bella's cry of delight, "You must thank your Aunt Emma, too; 'twas she thought of it first, and I told her that if she'd get the stuff I'd make the things.

There now, run away home, it is time you were putting Margery to bed.

No, I shall not tell you the colour," laughing, as she loosened Bella's arms which she had flung round her in her delight; "you will know to-morrow."

"I hope it is pink," said Bella earnestly, eyeing her aunt closely, to see if she could read anything from her face, but Mrs. Langley only smiled.

"Well, you will know by this time to-morrow. Now, run away, or they will be wondering what has become of you."

"To-morrow is such a long way off," sighed Bella. "It'll never come!"

To-morrow came, as all to-morrows do, and, to Bella's great delight, the frock turned out to be as pretty a pink as she could possibly desire.

It was very simply made, with just a plain skirt and belted bodice, but when she saw it finished, and with little white collar and cuffs added, Bella thought it the prettiest frock she had ever seen in her life.

Perhaps it was the prettiest she had ever possessed, for Aunt Emma did not understand that clothes could be pretty as well as serviceable, and most of poor Bella's frocks had been of heavy brown or black stuff, made without any tr.i.m.m.i.n.g, and with never a vestige of white at neck or wrists,--a dainty finish which Bella loved the look of.

In spite of the heat and the long walk in it, Bella waited impatiently for the following Sat.u.r.day, and surely, she thought, never had a week been so long in pa.s.sing.

It was September now, but the weather was as hot and stifling as it had been in July. The days were shorter, and the sun went down earlier, but, apart from the sun, the oppressive heat lasted on throughout the nights, which were almost as trying as the day. The earlier summer flowers were over, and the drought had prevented the later ones from coming on well, so that it was difficult to get a good supply week by week.

Bella and Tom no longer carried in the things from their own little gardens only, or they would often have found they had not enough to make it worth their while; but all contributed something that they had to sell, and it was quite a serious business to make up the accounts and divide the money when the little market-gardeners got home from market.

Each one now had a money-box or Savings Bank account. Aunt Emma was delighted. "It is ever so much better for them than wasting their time playing," she said to Mrs. Langley one day. "Much better."

"They ought to play, too," said Aunt Maggie quietly; "this is their play-time. All the rest of their life will be taken up with trying to earn a living. Let them play too, when they can."

As Bella and Tom started off that morning in their nice new cool garments, they thought that work would be ever so much nicer than play, if one could only go about it dressed like that always. Tom felt quite grown-up and business-like in his linen coat, and Bella felt another being, her frock was so much lighter and so pretty, too, and cool and clean.

"I think our new clothes have brought us good luck," she said, as long before the morning was over they had sold out most of what they had brought. The 'good luck' was that in their new garments, looking cool and fresh, they attracted the notice of those who had overlooked them in their heavier, uglier clothes.

When the time came for them to have their meal, they had sold out everything, to the very last apple.

"We could start for home now," said Bella, who was suffering much less from the heat than usual, "only that I've got some shopping to do for Aunt Emma."

"And we've got to buy the seeds," said Tom. "It wouldn't do to start back too early; father wouldn't have time to get to the milestone to meet us."

So they went and had their lunch in a leisurely, lazy way, talking all the time they munched at their sandwiches and apples. "I've got four shillings for father, and threepence for Margery," said Bella, counting up her takings, "and two shillings for myself."

"And I've got two shillings too," chimed in Tom.

This was a large sum to children brought up in the country, where the best-paid workmen earned only twelve and sixpence a week.

Their meal ended, they went back to the shops and people again, and made their purchases, and at last were able to turn their steps homeward.

"Instead of being early, we're later than usual," said Tom. "Father will have to wait a bit for us."

"Never mind; I dare say we shall be able to walk a little faster to-day,"

said Bella, "and make it up. Margery said she would come to meet us.

I wonder if she will. She's dying to wear her pink frock like mine, but I don't s'pose Aunt Emma will let her. I shall be able to see as soon as we turn the last bend of the road. The pink will show out fine against the hedge. Oh dear, I wish we were there! I shall be glad to give these baskets up to father, these groceries weigh heavy," and Bella sighed wearily.

"Only one more hill and two more bends, and we shall see him," said Tom cheerfully, for one of the chief pleasures of their day was to catch sight of the milestone where their father had never yet failed to meet them, to take their baskets from them, and listen to their account of the day's doings.

"Only one more hill and two bends!" the thought sent them trudging on with renewed spirit, and the hill was climbed before they realised it.

Then one bend in the road was rounded, then the other, and there in the distance could be seen the milestone. But, except for the milestone, the road was empty!

"Why, father isn't there!" cried Bella disappointedly; "he is late."

"P'raps somebody has met him, and kept him talking," suggested Tom; "we shall see him hurrying along in a minute." So they finished the rest of the distance with their eyes eagerly scanning the white road stretching away before them.

"We will have a rest here, shall we?" said Bella, placing her baskets on the ground by the old grey stone; "he won't be more than a few minutes, I expect. Oh, I am so tired, aren't you?"

Tom, seated on the milestone, only nodded, his eyes never wandered from the road along which their father was to come. It was very still and quiet there, almost oppressively so. No one pa.s.sed, and no sound, except the voices of the birds and the distant mooing of a cow, broke the silence.

"P'raps after all we'd better go on," said Bella at last, after restlessly fidgeting about, and staring along the dirty road until her eyes ached.

"It doesn't seem to be much use waiting," said Tom quietly, and they started on their way again, but far less cheerfully now. Indeed, for such a trifling and easily explained incident, their spirits were strangely cast down. A dozen simple things might have happened to prevent their father's coming; he might have been detained at his work, or have met some one, and be staying talking to them; or he might have been busy and have forgotten the time.

Perhaps it was because they were over-tired and hungry, and in the state to look on the gloomy side of things, that they could not take a cheerful view of the matter, or shake off the feeling of depression which filled them.

Whether this was so or not, they felt anxious and troubled, and all the sunshine and pleasure seemed to have gone out of their day. It was almost as though a foreboding of the truth had come to them--that when they left the old milestone they were leaving their light-heartedness and childhood behind them, never quite to find them again. Never, at any rate, the same. When they left it they set their faces towards a long, dark road, with many a weary hill and many a desolate s.p.a.ce to cross, and with a heavier burden to bear than any they had yet borne.

Had they known, their hearts might have failed them altogether, perhaps, though the way was not to be all as dark and stony for their tired feet, as at first it had seemed to promise. There would be sunshine on the road for them too, and pleasant resting-places.

To them then, as they trudged along in silence, the road they had to tread seemed hard and gloomy enough, even though it was the road towards home.

Every yard seemed as six, and never a glimpse did they catch of their father, or Margery, or Charlie. Bella walked that mile often and often in the years that followed, but never again without remembering that afternoon.

At last, as they drew near the top of 'their own lane,' as they called it, they saw a woman standing; she had no hat on her head, and appeared to be waiting and looking eagerly for some one. When she caught sight of the children, she hurried forward to meet them. Bella soon recognised her, it was Mrs. Carter, Billy Carter's mother, and she wondered why she was there in her working-dress, and why her face was so white.

"Where's father?" asked Bella sharply. She never could tell afterwards why that question sprung to her lips, or why with a sharp thrill of fear she knew what the answer would be, before it was spoken.

"I've come to tell you, my dears,--your--your father's bad; there's been an accident, and--and you've got to be very quiet."

"What is it? What's happened? What accident, oh, do tell!" cried Bella in an agony of alarm at once. It seemed to her then that she had known of this all along, or expected it.

"Is--he--dead?" gasped Tom, white and shaking.

Mrs. Carter seized on the question with some relief. It was one she could answer with some comfort for them. "No, he isn't dead. He is hurt very bad, but the doctor thinks he'll get over it--in time--with care.

He's got to go to the hospital, though. Here, let me help you, dear."

She took Bella's baskets from her, and putting her strong arm about the child's trembling body, helped her along.

"What happened?" gasped Bella through her poor white, quivering lips.

"A wall fell and crushed him."