"Oh, Kathie," Philippa exclaimed, "I"m all trembling to know what it is!
Only just tell me quick! Is it that the will"s found?"
She could hardly for the moment have said whether she wished the answer to be "yes" or "no," but she was not long left in suspense.
"You goose!" said Kathleen, which was answer of itself; "of course not.
I do believe you thought it was in this letter. I don"t believe, for my part, it ever will be found. But that"s not the question. What I"ve got to tell you is just what you"ve been wishing for. I--we--Neville and I--are to go to Aunt Clotilda"s for the holidays."
"Oh!" exclaimed Philippa, in a tone of deep satisfaction. "Then _did_ you speak of it to your brother, Kathie? Were you only teasing me when you said you hadn"t?"
"No, no. It was done before. I mean Neville had thought of it before. He began to tell me something, and then he stopped; I think he wasn"t sure if I"d like it. He"s not sure now; you"ll see when you read what he says. And to tell you the truth, Phil, if you hadn"t put it into my head about hunting for that paper"--
"No," interrupted Philippa; "it was your own thought about looking for the _paper_. I said the will."
"Never mind," said Kathie impatiently; "it"s the same thing. You put the hunting into my head. And, as I was saying, if you hadn"t, I don"t believe I would have wanted to go there. You see, it"s left to my own wishes princ.i.p.ally," she went on importantly. "_That"s_ sensible of Aunt Clotilda, anyway. There," and she held out the letter to Philippa, "you may read it all. Can you make out the writing? If not, I"ll read it to you. Neville"s writing is plain enough; read it first."
Philippa eagerly obeyed. Neville"s letter was just a short one, sending on to his sister a larger one which he had received from their aunt, and saying how much he hoped Kathleen would like the idea of the visit Miss Clotilda proposed, and which he frankly said he had written to suggest.
"I"ve read Neville"s," said Philippa; "but the writing of the other is rather difficult. Please read it to me, Kathie."
Kathleen unfolded it, and made Philippa come quite close to her.
"I don"t want to speak loud," she said. "I don"t care for the other girls to hear."
"MY DEAR NEVILLE,"
the letter began,
"I am very glad you wrote to me. I have thought a great deal about you and dear Kathleen since the terrible disappointment which you heard all about from your father. It is very sad for both of you, and perhaps especially so for Kathleen, to be so long separated from your dear parents, and to have now--alas!--such a very uncertain prospect of seeing them again for long. I had already been considering if it would not be possible for you both to spend your next holidays with me here. Mr. Wynne-Carr has--I suppose I must say _kindly_, but I think you are old enough to understand that it is difficult for me to feel grateful under the circ.u.mstances--given me leave to stay here till October, when I must go I know not where. But I am very poor. I have for the time a house in which to receive you, but that is about all. All the servants are dismissed already, except old Martha. And I am obliged to live in the simplest way. Then, again, I had a feeling that it would be painful and tantalising for you to come here, and to get to know and love the dear old place which should have been by now your own home. I should like you and little Kathleen"--
"_Little_ Kathleen, indeed!" said Kathie, with a snort.
"to think it over"--
"Yes; that"s sensible of her, isn"t it?"
"and to let me know what you feel about it before I do anything in the matter. I am quite sure your dear papa and mamma"--
"Did you ever see such a lot of "dears" as she sticks in? I"m afraid she must be rather a kissey-cry-ey sort of person, Phil."
"would have no objection to your coming, and if you both think you would like it, and will let me know as soon as possible, I will write to Miss Eccles and to Mr. Fanshaw, and try to get all arranged. I think you could safely make the journey alone, as there is no change from Paddington to Frewern Bay, where you leave the railway, and where I should meet you by the coach. Of course, had things been as we hoped, I should have sent some one to town to escort you, but that, alas! is now out of the question. With love to Kathleen, and hoping to hear from you very soon--Believe me, my dear Neville, your affectionate aunt,
"CLOTILDA WYNNE POWYS."
"She writes as if she would have sent a couple of powdered footmen for us, doesn"t she?" said Kathie. "I say, Phil, it won"t be very cheerful if she"s going to go on groaning all the time over departed grandeur, will it? And I"m rather afraid about the"--Kathleen hesitated. She was in an excited, mischievous mood, and she wanted to shock Philippa by using slang. But she wasn"t sure whether the proper expression for what she wanted to say was "tuck," or "grub," or "prog," or no one of the three, so she discreetly changed the form of the sentence. "I"ve just a little misgiving that we shall not have enough to eat," she went on. "Do you suppose she"ll give us porridge three times a day? I always think of porridge when people speak of living very simply."
"Porridge is very good," said Philippa; "with _cream_ I think it"s"--
"Heavenly!" put in Kathie. "Yes, so do I. For breakfast, that"s to say.
But for dinner and tea too! I warn you, Phil, if we go, and if we"re starved, it"ll all lie on your shoulders."
Her voice was so solemn, and she put such an alarming expression into her face, that Philippa looked really frightened, and half ready to cry.
"I don"t understand you, Kathie," she said. "I wish you wouldn"t open your eyes at me like that. _I_ think it"s a very nice, kind letter, and I don"t see why you turn everything into mocking. I can"t think what makes you do it."
Kathleen"s face grew grave.
"I"m very sorry for vexing you, poor little Phil," she said. "I won"t do it any more. But you needn"t be vexed at my saying seriously, that I don"t think I"d have wanted to go to Aunt Clotilda"s but for your idea of hunting for the will. I"m sure she"s very unhappy, and I daresay she"d rather not be bothered with us."
"You should try to make her happier, then. It"s for all of you she"s so unhappy, poor thing."
"Yes, that"s true. And anyway, it"s better than Bognor. I"ll promise to be very good, Phil; I really will. But you _mustn"t_ be disappointed if I don"t find the will, for I"m very much afraid I shan"t."
"You haven"t patience enough," said the little girl. "I wish _I_ was going there."
"I"m sure I wish you were. But it will be nice to see the place, and to find out if our plans about it are something like. I"ll write you long letters to your grandmamma"s, and tell you all about it."
CHAPTER IV.
AT TY-GWYN.
[Ill.u.s.tration: Decorative H]
is aunt"s letter, though so kind, had caused Neville some disappointment. It was evident to him that there was no hope of her being able to have Kathleen to live with her. And indeed, these coming holidays were probably the only ones they could ever hope to spend with her.
"Poor Aunt Clotilda!" thought the boy. "It is really very sad for her.
Papa has always told us what a good sister she was to him, and of course if they had come home and gone to live there she would always have stayed with us. I wonder what she will do? I wish I were old enough to earn money, somehow, so that we three, aunt and Kathie and I, could live together till papa and mamma come home. It seems a shame for her to have to work, and yet I suppose she"ll have to do something like being a governess or a companion; perhaps she"s too old to be a governess. She"s much older than papa."
The thought of his aunt seemed to bring out all the chivalry in his nature.
"When I"m a man," he went on thinking to himself, "if Kathleen and little Vida are not married, and poor, I won"t marry till I"ve got enough for them to be comfortable. Of course it was different for papa, for he was so sure of Mrs. Wynne"s money. It"s very kind of Aunt Clotilda to want me too to go. I should like to see the place, though it will be rather horrid too to know it should have been ours. I do hope Kathie will like the idea of going."
All fears on this score were soon put an end to. The very next morning brought him back his aunt"s long letter enclosed in a rather scrawly note from Kathleen, condescendingly expressing her approval of the scheme, the reason of which was, to tell the truth, princ.i.p.ally contained in the postscript.
"We"ll have a good hunt for the will ourselves. I"m sure Aunt Clotilda is rather a goose. I don"t believe she"s half hunted for it. Just think, Neville, _if_ we found it!"
And Neville"s face flushed with a momentary enthusiasm as he pictured to himself the delight of such a possibility. But the glow quickly faded again.
"No, there"s no use thinking of it," he said to himself; "better not.
Kathie mustn"t get it into her head, though I"m glad in one way to see that she has thought about it seriously. But I"m quite sure Aunt Clotilda has done everything that could be done. Kathie has no business to say she"s a goose. Now I can write to her and say we should like very much to go to her. I hope it won"t bother her much."
[Ill.u.s.tration]
His letter was sent that very afternoon. But it was not till nearly noon on the following day that it reached its destination. In what Miss Clotilda Powys herself and many of her neighbours, not to speak of old Martha, were already beginning to call "the old days," a groom used regularly to be sent from Mrs. Wynne"s to the two miles distant post-office, where the letters arrived by mail-cart early in the morning. Now-a-days the White House had to take its turn with the rest of the world in the out-of-the way village, and to wait the good pleasure of old John Parry, who stumped along at his own sweet will, the canvas bag slung across his shoulders, seeing no reason why he should hurry. Nay, more, if there happened to be any piece of work at his own cottage that he was anxious to get finished betimes, the letters might wait--half an hour or so couldn"t make such a mighty difference, and he was quite secure that no one in the village would ever notice it or complain if they did. Miss Clotilda Powys was perhaps the only person the least likely to mind whether her share of the post-bag"s contents reached her at ten o"clock or twelve. And lately, since the excitement that immediately followed Mrs. Wynne"s death had subsided, since there were no more lawyer"s letters of advice or inquiry to look for--for everybody by this time had come to believe that either the will would never be found or did not exist--Miss Clotilda cared little more about post-time than anybody else. She had no heart left to feel interest in the outside world, and she was a woman whose chief interests would always be those of her own belongings. For she had lived in a small sphere all her life--her one great affection had been for her younger brother, David Powys, the father of Neville and Kathleen; like a stream, dammed on all sides but one, this affection had deepened and strengthened till it had become the one idea of her life. It is easy, therefore, to understand that Captain Powys was right when he said that his sister was perhaps the most to be pitied of all concerned.
Old Martha had been many years in Mrs. Wynne"s household. She knew Miss Clotilda well--better, probably, than did any one else. She had admired her patience with the old lady, her self-denial and gentleness, and she sympathised almost more than any one in the terrible disappointment. And lately she had begun to feel very unhappy about Miss Clotilda. Since she had come to lose hope, the poor lady had grown listless and low-spirited, so that Martha sometimes almost feared she would fall ill, and not care to get well again.