"There was a matter of a couple of snares and some night lines," he said slowly, drawing nearer to Mrs. Red House; "but I couldn"t take no money, of course."
"Of course not," she said; "I beg your pardon for offering it. But I"ll give you my name and address, and if ever I can be of any use to you----"
She turned her back on us while she wrote it down with a stumpy pencil he lent her; but Oswald could swear that he heard money c.h.i.n.k, and that there was something large and round wrapped up in the paper she gave him.
"Sorry for any little misunderstanding," the Police now said, feeling the paper with his fingers; "and my respects to you, miss, and your young friends. I"d best be going."
And he went--to Sir James, I suppose. He seemed quite tamed. I hope the people who set the snares got off.
"So _that"s_ all right," said Mrs. Red House. "Oh, you dear children, you must stay to lunch, and we"ll have a splendid time."
"What a darling Princess you are!" Noel said slowly. "You are a witch Princess, too, with magic powers over the Police."
"It"s not a very pretty sort of magic," she said, and she sighed.
"Everything about you is pretty," said Noel. And I could see him beginning to make the faces that always precur his poetry-fits. But before the fit could break out thoroughly the rest of us awoke from our stupor of grateful safeness and began to dance round Mrs. Red House in a ring. And the girls sang--
"The rose is red, the violet"s blue, Carnation"s sweet, and so are you,"
over and over again, so we had to join in; though I think "She"s a jolly good fellow would have been more manly and less like a poetry book."
Suddenly a known voice broke in on our singing.
"_Well!_" it said. And we stopped dancing. And there were the other two ladies who had politely walked off when we first discovered Mrs. Red House. And one of them was Mrs. Bax--of all people in the world! And she was smoking a cigarette. So now we knew where the smell of tobacco came from, in the White House.
We said, "_Oh!_" in one breath, and were silent.
"Is it possible," said Mrs. Bax, "that these are the Sunday-school children I"ve been living with these three long days?"
"We"re sorry," said Dora, softly; "we wouldn"t have made a noise if we"d know you were here."
"So I suppose," said Mrs. Bax. "Chloe, you seem to be a witch. How have you galvanised my six rag dolls into life like this?"
"Rag dolls!" said H.O., before we could stop him. "I think you"re jolly mean and ungrateful; and it was sixpence for making the organs fly."
"My brain"s reeling," said Mrs. Bax, putting her hands to her head.
"H.O. is very rude, and I am sorry," said Alice, "but it _is_ hard to be called rag dolls, when you"ve only tried to do as you were told."
And then, in answer to Mrs. Red House"s questions, we told how father had begged us to be quiet, and how we had earnestly tried to. When it was told, Mrs. Bax began to laugh, and so did Mrs. Red House, and at last Mrs. Bax said--
"Oh, my dears! you don"t know how glad I am that you"re really alive! I began to think--oh--I don"t know what I thought! And you"re not rag dolls. You"re heroes and heroines, every man jack of you. And I do thank you. But I never wanted to be quiet like _that_. I just didn"t want to be bothered with London and tiresome grown-up people. And now let"s enjoy ourselves! Shall it be rounders, or stories about cannibals?"
"Rounders first and stories after," said H.O. And it was so.
Mrs. Bax, now that her true nature was revealed, proved to be A1. The author does not ask for a jollier person to be in the house with. We had rare larks the whole time she stayed with us.
And to think that we might never have known her true character if she hadn"t been an old school friend of Mrs. Red House"s, and if Mrs. Red House hadn"t been such a friend of ours!
"Friendship," as Mr. William Smith so truly says in his book about Latin, "is the crown of life."
_THE POOR AND NEEDY_
"WHAT shall we do to-day, kiddies?" said Mrs. Bax. We had discovered her true nature but three days ago, and already she had taken us out in a sailing-boat and in a motor car, had given us sweets every day, and taught us eleven new games that we had not known before; and only four of the new games were rotters. How seldom can as much be said for the games of a grown-up, however gifted!
The day was one of cloudless blue perfectness, and we were all basking on the beach. We had all bathed. Mrs. Bax said we might. There are points about having a grown-up with you, if it is the right kind. You can then easily get it to say "Yes" to what you want, and after that, if anything goes wrong it is their fault, and you are pure from blame. But nothing had gone wrong with the bathe, and, so far, we were all alive, and not cold at all, except our fingers and feet.
"What would you _like_ to do?" asked Mrs. Bax. We were far away from human sight along the beach, and Mrs. Bax was smoking cigarettes as usual.
"I don"t know," we all said politely. But H.O. said--
"What about poor Miss Sandal?"
"Why poor?" asked Mrs. Bax.
"Because she is," said H.O.
"But how? What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Bax.
"Why, isn"t she?" said H.O.
"Isn"t she what?" said Mrs. Bax.
"What you said why about," said H.O.
She put her hands to her head. Her short hair was still damp and rumpled from contact with the foaming billows of ocean.
"Let"s have a fresh deal and start fair," she said; "why do you think my sister is poor?"
"I forgot she was your sister," said H.O., "or I wouldn"t have said it--honour bright I wouldn"t."
"Don"t mention it," said Mrs. Bax, and began throwing stones at a groin in amiable silence.
We were furious with H.O., first because it is such bad manners to throw people"s poverty in their faces, or even in their sisters" faces, like H.O. had just done, and second because it seemed to have put out of Mrs.
Bax"s head what she was beginning to say about what would we like to do.
So Oswald presently remarked, when he had aimed at the stump she was aiming at, and hit it before she did, for though a fair shot for a lady, she takes a long time to get her eye in.
"Mrs. Bax, we should like to do whatever _you_ like to do." This was real politeness and true too, as it happened, because by this time we could quite trust her not to want to do anything deeply duffing.
"That"s very nice of you," she replied, "but don"t let me interfere with any plans of yours. My own idea was to pluck a waggonette from the nearest bush. I suppose they grow freely in these parts?"
"There"s one at the "Ship,"" said Alice; "it costs seven-and-six to pluck it, just for going to the station."
"Well, then! And to stuff our waggonette with lunch and drive over to Lynwood Castle, and eat it there."