The Girls of St. Olave's Part 3

But the jug was struck from her hand and lay in twenty pieces on the floor, and the beer ran hurriedly over the boards and sank away between the crevices as if anxious to hide itself. "You _dare_ to tempt me!" said Tom hoa.r.s.ely.

CHAPTER IV.

A SMALL WORLD.

"Does you want a boat?"

Such a soft, clear little voice! Denys turned quickly and looked up, but her eyes had to come down again to the yellow sand on which she sat. There was no one near enough to have spoken to her but a mite of a boy in petticoats, with bare feet and yellow hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"Hullo!" said the little voice again, "_does_ you want a boat?"

"No, thank you," she answered with a tender smile; she had heard no voice like this voice, since little Jerry died. It was as if Jerry himself had come back to her.

"Why doesn't you want one?" insisted the child.

"I have no one to row me," she said.

He looked down at his little brown hands and then up in her face.

"When I'm a man I'll row you! I'm going to be a sailor like my dad was!"

"What is your name, dear?"

"Harry! Harry Lyon!"

He stood with his little brown legs apart, gazing at her.

"My dad's dead! That's his grave," he said, with a wave of his hand.

"_Where?_" said Denys aghast.

He pointed to the dancing waves. "What colour does you call that sea?

Does you know colours?" he asked gravely.

"Why, yes! I know them. The sea is blue."

Harry shook his head unbelievingly.

"It's a red sea where my dad is?" he said.

"Where is your mother?"

Harry nodded inland, and a shadow fell over his st.u.r.dy little face.

"She's always coughing--she don't come out with Harry no more,"

he said, plaintively. Then his tone brightened. "She's going away somewheres; she's going to get _quite_ well--it's along of Jesus, our best Friend--and I'm going with her," he added determinately.

There was a pause. Denys felt a great compa.s.sion for the little chap.

She wondered what would happen to him when mother got quite well, and yet--with Jesus for best Friend--need she have wondered?

The child's next words effectually startled her out of her thoughts.

"Give us a penny!" he said.

"Oh, Harry! it's naughty to ask for pennies!"

"Give us a ha'penny then," he coaxed.

But Denys only shook her head and laughed at him, and at that moment Gertrude and a young fellow sauntered up to her.

"We have had a lovely row!" exclaimed Gertrude gaily. "Mr. Greyburne made the boat fly. It's such a little light thing, just made for two!

Where is Mrs. Henchman?"

"She was not feeling well enough to come out," answered Denys, "and Audrey's school has not broken up yet."

"I'm afraid you have been dull," said Cecil Greyburne politely; "but you are going to cycle to Brensted Woods with us this afternoon?"

"Denys ought not to be dull," said Gertrude easily. "She has letters to write and to read, and she counts the hours till Charlie comes, and she has to do the pretty to her future mother-in-law. You see, _I_ have not all these occupations. Denys! I am sure it is lunchtime!"

Denys rose and shook the sand from her dress.

"Mrs. Henchman wanted us all to walk to the Landslip this afternoon,"

she said. "She has ordered a donkey-chair and we shall have tea at the Cottage. Could not you join our party, Mr. Greyburne? We can hardly run away!"

"Oh, how horrid!" exclaimed Gertrude, "you know how I hate walking. I shall get out of it somehow. Mr. Greyburne and I can cycle there and join you at tea. How will that do, Mr. Greyburne?"

Cecil glanced at Denys, and his eyes pa.s.sed on to Gertrude's merry, sparkling face. She was really good fun to ride out with, and it was turning out to be a much jollier Easter holiday than he had antic.i.p.ated. He did not exactly see why he should sacrifice himself to walking beside a slow donkey-chair, when the prettiest girl he had ever known invited him to a cycle ride. If she could get out of the walk he was quite ready to second her. "I'll come up at any time you name, and be ready for anything that is wanted of me," he said gallantly. He felt he had handled a difficult decision very neatly.

As the two girls tidied their hair for lunch, Denys said very earnestly,

"Gertrude! we really can't run away from Mrs. Henchman this afternoon; it is not polite or--or--anything!"

"You can't, but I can," retorted Gertrude, "and I'm going to. You are not going to condemn me to a slow walk when I can have a nice spin with Cecil. I'll arrange it with Mrs. Henchman, and she'll be quite satisfied if you don't interfere."

She ran downstairs and went gaily into the dining-room.

"So I hear you are going to take us all to the Landslip, and have tea at the Cottage, Mrs. Henchman," she said, sitting down beside her affectionately; "and Denys has asked Cecil Greyburne to go too, and he and I are going to cycle instead of walk. Denys said you would not like it, but I knew you would not mind."

And Mrs. Henchman answered as Gertrude had meant she should.

"Not at all, my dear! I want you to enjoy yourself while you are here."

"Oh, I am!" answered Gertrude, very heartily and very truthfully. She cast a little triumphant look at Denys. She was certainly enjoying herself immensely. They had been at Whitecliff the larger half of a week already, and Cecil Greyburne, an old school friend of Charlie's, had dropped in to call on Mrs. Henchman the first evening, and since then he had called in or met the girls constantly. Mrs. Henchman had not been very well since their arrival, and Audrey was very engrossed with the end-of-term examinations, and Gertrude found it convenient to a.s.sume that Denys ought to be entertaining her future relatives or writing to Charlie; she, therefore, monopolised Cecil to such an extent, that every day it happened as it had happened that morning: Denys sat alone on the beach or wandered about on the cliff, and Gertrude, with a lightly uttered "Oh, Denys is busy somewhere," had gone cycling or rowing or primrose hunting with Cecil.

Mrs. Henchman had ordered her donkey-chair for three o'clock, and shortly before that hour Gertrude came bustling in from the garden.