BY MABEL QUILLER-COUCH. CHAPTER I. The kettle sat on the hob, and Mona sat on the floor, both as idle as idle
could be. "Oh, I'm so tired!" Oh, dear! oh, dear!" With anyone but
Mona she would have been very cross indeed, but she was rarely cross with
her. "My feet do ache," she
sighed. "Oh, granny, it
is such a lovely story, I must tell you about it." "Yes, dear, I'd like to--some day." "It's all ready, dearie," she said, as she sank into her chair once more. Oh, there's no butter
out." Of course, she didn't have to do _any_ work--nothing at all all
day long." "We will see. "Some folks believe in it, and I s'pose if you believe in it it does you
good. "Why, it's the postman! "Oh, granny! Granny was evidently surprised. "Oh, granny, do make haste and open the letter, I am longing to know
what's inside!" Mona was dreadfully afraid they would fall off, and then the
polishing and fixing process would all have to be gone through again,
but she had the wisdom to hold her tongue this time, and granny took up
the letter again, and at last began to read it, while Mona tried hard to
read granny's face. "Oh, granny, what's the matter?" "Oh, dear! oh, dear! she asked sullenly. Her father could not bear to part with her, nor would he have
anyone to live with them. She was too young, of course, to be put in such a position; but she did
not even do what she might have done, and no one was surprised, and no one
blamed her father--no one, at least, but Mrs. Barnes--when at the end of
eighteen months he married pretty, gentle Lucy Garland, one of the
housemaids at the Squire's. "Well, the letter's spoilt my tea for me. Anyway, I don't want
anything more. Mona looked surprised. "Oh, has it! I am," and she helped herself to another slice of bread and butter. Mona flew out at once. "I pull them down." "Never mind, I'll begin better
to-morrow. She was not so sure, though, that 'no harm was done' when she woke the
next morning and heard loud voices and sound of quarrelling coming from
the garden. "Well, what I say is," her grandmother cried shrilly, "your cats were
nearly the death of me, and I'll trouble you to keep them in your own
place." I know, and
I've a right to my own opinion." She was out there, I saw her from----"
"That's right! Granny laughed, a short sarcastic laugh. No, not if I lived next door to you for fifty
years, I wouldn't 'pologise. Mona, standing shivering by the window, listened to it all with a sick
feeling of shame and dismay. Oh, I wish I'd spoken out at once! CHAPTER II. At that moment she felt sorry for
anyone or anything which had to leave its old home for a new one. She looked out at the cottage and at granny, standing waving her
handkerchief, but she could scarcely see either because of the mist in her
eyes, and, when at last the van turned a corner which cut them off
entirely from view, the mist in her eyes changed to rain. "We shan't get to Seacombe till nightfall," grumbled the old man when at
last he had got the pair into two sacks, and had fastened them up securely
on the tail-board of the van. It's always the way." They wouldn't let no train start 'fore me and my
passengers was in!" Then they jogged on again, and by that time
Mona had recovered sufficiently to be able to take more interest in her
surroundings. She longed to put
her hands behind her back to hide them, but that would have looked too
pointed; so, instead, she turned round and looked out of the window,
pretending to be lost to everything but the view. It was a very pretty road that they were travelling, but very hilly,
and Lion's pace grew, if possible, even slower. This was home, this was her
real home. Mona knew it now, if she had never realised it before. It had never
been quite 'home' to her, and never could be. "I expect you're tired, dear, ain't you?" The face Mona turned to her was pale, but it was with
feeling, not tiredness. "Oh, no," she cried, hardly knowing what she felt, or how to put it into
words. I wish I
was. "And it makes me feel good," thought Mona, but she was shy of saying so. And then the old horse drew up suddenly,
and she saw that they had actually reached their journey's end. They had met but once, and that for only a
little while. "Please, here's my fare. I promised your mother I
would. How familiar it all was, and how unchanged! Here and
there someone recognised her, but at that hour there were never many
people about. Well, your mother and father'll be
glad to have you home again." "Is it really Mona," cried another. "Why, now, you've grown! There were wreaths of wall-flowers, of roses, and of
lilacs, but the prettiest of all to Mona was one of roses and
forget-me-nots woven in together. Oh, I'd love it!" There were hats in the window, too. Pretty, light, wide-brimmed hats. Oh, I wish----"
"Why, it's Mona Carne!" cried Millie. "But you've grown,
Mona. Mona was delighted. She wanted to be tall, and she wanted to have nice
long hair. She wanted to get
on, and what Millie wanted to do she generally did. "Well, we were
late in coming, we were so long on the road. Why, it's gone by. Only a minute ago, though. "Thank'ee, ma'am," he was saying, and Mona saw him
putting some coins in his pocket. How familiar
it all seemed, yet how changed. she said. Mona walked ahead to it, but at the door she drew up with a cry of
delight. "Oh, Mother!" Lucy noticed it though, and coloured with pleasure. She had felt more shy
than had Mona, about suggesting what her stepchild should call her. "Thank you, dear, for calling me that," she said, putting her arm about
her and kissing her. Lucy had collected them, and mended and cleaned them. She looked about her
with admiring eyes as she dragged off her hat and tossed it from her,
accidentally knocking over the candlestick as she did so. Lucy stooped and picked up both. Mona looked at the hat with indifferent eyes. Oh, well, it's my
last year's one. "Shall you, dear?" Mona did not notice the little anxious pucker of her mother's forehead. Her father's boat
had done well, she supposed. Her father looked vexed. "We shan't do that, I know," said Lucy kindly. Come, Peter, and take
your own chair. There's no moving around the kitchen till we've put you
in your corner. CHAPTER III. "Why, how does the window get over there?" she asked herself, and then
recollection came pouring over her, and sleepiness vanished, for life
seemed suddenly very pleasant and interesting, and full of things to do,
and see, and think about. The garden, drenched with dew, was bathed in sunshine too. Strangely enough, though, she did not heed,
or care for them. she cried. Your mother isn't well." Mona jumped up with a start, and felt rather cross in consequence. "All right, father," she called back. Her father called through the door again. "The fire's lighted, and
burning nicely, and I've put the kettle on. "All right,
father," she called back more amiably, "I'll dress as quick as I can. "That's a good maid," with a note of relief in his voice, and then she
heard him go softly down the stairs. "Perhaps if I tip everything out on the floor
I'll find the old things that way!" She hesitated,
looked at it again, and picked it up. As she did so, something fell out
of the pocket. "I--I suppose I ought to have given it to mother, but it went right out of
my head." She looked very white and ill, and very fragile,
but she was fully dressed. "I was going to bring you up some breakfast as soon as I could,
but the silly old fire was gone down----"
"I was afraid it would. That was why I got up. I couldn't be still,
I was so fidgeted about your father's breakfast. Mona looked glummer than ever. she asked presently. "He did to-day, but you see there wasn't any. "I was awake at
seven, and got up and looked out of the window. "Never mind, dear, we will manage better another time. You will be a
great comfort to us, I know." "I do want to be," she said shyly, "and I am
glad to be home. Lucy laughed ruefully. "Hullo, Lucy! Then you got up, after all! "Yes, I've got down to breakfast. Peter laughed. "Now, then, let's begin. she stuttered. "Oh, no, not your best." "Well, what else is there to wear? "Yes, and big aprons, and sleeves. Then one can tell when they are
dirty." "Yes." "I haven't got any print dresses. "Oh, yes!" eagerly. Lucy looked grave and a little troubled. It was a very
pretty one. Well, you kept it very nicely. "They are very pretty," agreed Lucy, absently. "Mother, if you'll get me the hat, I'll buy the wreath myself. "Very well, dear, we'll think about it. "No, dear, you need them more than you need the hat. "Oh, yes! "Yes, and I must teach you how to wash and get them up." "I like other kinds of work better, perhaps. "Oh, yes!" "I don't see that. "Oh, Mona! Lucy looked amazed. "Well, I don't believe in any of those old sayings," retorted Mona,
rising too. A little cloud rested for a moment on Lucy's face, but only for a moment. Poor child, poor Mona! I couldn't be hard with her if I tried, and being
her stepmother will make things more difficult for me than for most. I couldn't live in the house with strife. I must try other means, and,"
she added softly, "ask God to help me." CHAPTER IV. "That's just what I want," declared Mona. Perhaps I can't manage the cooking yet, but I'll learn to
in time." "Oh, mother, this is nice," she sighed, her face radiant, though her
shoulders drooped a little with tiredness. "I seem to smell the sea even through the scent of the flowers,"
said Lucy. "I am sure I do. "I don't suppose they choose, they just live where God has seen fit to
place them--where their work lies." "I don't see that it has got anything to do with being a coward or not,"
objected Mona. It was home to her, and every other place was exile. She tried to think of something else,
and, unconsciously, her mother helped her. Mona looked round at her with a smile. I promised I would. I could take up
some of the weeds in the garden, too." "Yes, if you'll do a little weeding it'll be fine. She was only a little kinder, perhaps, to the
most shabby of them all. asked Mona, struck anew by her stepmother's
fragile appearance. But Lucy shook her head. She has been so bad again." Mona did not try any more to stop her, but bustled around helping her to
get ready. "I'll do the beds first," thought Mona. "After all, that's the right way
to begin." Mona looked at them without interest. "No, thank you I want
forget-me-nots." "There, isn't that sweet, and only three and eleven three." "Yes, thank you, it's very pretty, but--but--it's too dear--and--I want
forget-me-nots." The girl's face changed, and her manner too. She longed passionately to throw down the wreath she carried and trample
on it--and as for Tamlin's shop! She went along quickly, with her head down. And there's all my money gone; wasted, and--
and----" At last the tears did come, in spite of her, and Mona's heart
felt relieved. "There's no cure for trouble like work, I know that. She rose to her
feet. Compared with such a trouble, her own was too paltry. "That's a good maid," he said, encouragingly. You'll be a grand help to your poor mother." "I do want to be," said Mona, but she did not feel as confident about it
as her father did. "That's right, I shan't be home till morning, most likely, so you'll have
to take care of her. He may have to go a mile or more out of his way, just for one
customer." Why, look at them! Oh, it was pitiful, pitiful. "No, no, I won't, I'll bury them out of sight. At her mother's
last question, she opened her lips for the first time. "I--I did it,"
she gasped in a horrified voice. "I--didn't know, I must have done it
when I was weeding. What can I do--oh,
what can I do!" Oh, Mona!" "Never mind. Don't fret about it, dear. Of course,
you wouldn't have hurt them if you'd known what you were doing!" Lucy laughed. "Poor old Paddy," she cried. And you can work splendidly if you
like, Mona, and you _do_ like, I know. "Boats are in sight, missis. Mona loved nothing better than such mornings as this--but her first step
was her last. "Hullo, my girl!" Why, father!" Diving his hand deep into his pocket, he drew out a handful of gold and
silver. "Thank'ee, little maid. I can tell you, I'm more than a bit hungry. "Oh, not till you've had a few hours' sleep," coaxed Lucy. "There's no need for locks and keys to-day,"
he said, ruefully. she wondered eagerly. Can you knit
stockings, Mona?" "Ye--es, but I hate----" She drew herself up sharply. "Never mind, I'll make them. At the sight of Mona,
Millie drew up. "Yes," Mona admitted. "Well, why didn't you?" "Oh, are you? "Good-bye," and with a nod Millie took herself off. "Well, I do! Come along, Mona, you might as well come out and play for
half an hour as stick moping here. We'll go down to the quay, then you'll be
able to see the boats coming. The temptation was great, too great. Mona loved the quay, and the life
and cheerfulness there. Then there was the sea to look at too, so beautiful and grand, and
awe-inspiring in the fading light. Oh, how dearly she loved it all! she gasped, and
scarcely waiting for an answer she took to her heels and tore up the
street to her home. The fire
would be out, the house all in darkness. She had only pulled the front
door behind her, she had not locked it. Oh, dear! and me not there, and--and nothing ready. "Oh, Mona! You frightened me so, child. Where's your father,"
she asked anxiously. "No, he hasn't come yet." Everybody
was saying how late they were. "But, as you did, you should have locked the door behind you. I couldn't see it. I shut it after me. I didn't lock it, but I pulled the door fast
after me. But there was no money on them,
not even a farthing for the baker. "Yes, somewhere! But it isn't here, and it isn't in Mr. King's pocket." cried Mona passionately. We trusted you." They are
ever so late." Lucy groaned. "Well, I'm thankful you don't suffer as I do, child. "Boats are in sight, Mrs. Carne! Tired though she was,
Lucy was on her feet in a moment and her face radiant. "I wonder, too!" Then we
needn't be hurrying and scurrying all the time, and there'll be more
room." She wanted, instead,
to make amends to replace the lost five shillings. She longed to have the
money to pay back, but she had not one penny! All she could do was to
work, and to go without things she wanted. Then Mona caught the sound of his coming, and rushed out, while Lucy stood
behind her with radiant face and glowing eyes. "Ain't you,
father?" Oh, dear!" Lucy looked at her anxiously now and again, puzzled to know why her
mood had changed so suddenly. she wondered, and her fingers trembled so with
eagerness, she was ever so long untying the string. "Oh, mother!" "Oh, mother! It's--it's lovely. "Try it on, and let us see if it suits you. Lucy tried to look grave, but she was nearly as excited and
delighted as Mona herself. She hoped
so much that it did suit her, for she longed to keep it. Look again." Compared with it, her own purchase seemed poor
and common. Mona held it in her hand, gazing at it with lowered lids. "Oh, mother," she stammered brokenly. "Don't you like it?" she asked, disappointed. "Don't you like it, dear?" she asked again. Mona nodded, but did not speak. "Mona, dear, what is it? Perhaps I can help you, if I know." And then the whole of the miserable story came pouring out. "It's the same with all of us, dear. Lucy laughed. You go to
sleep again. There, do you like them?" Are those for me, too?" "Yes, it's all for you, dear." She had had a long, wearying day, and the parcels had been heavy. Mona, though, did not notice anything. Oh, I'd love to have a white dress. Her father turned and looked across at them. he asked suddenly. Lucy looked up in surprise. "It is only a trouble to keep." Lucy nodded. Lucy coloured. "Oh, I--I'm trying to do without it. "She's got too warm a heart." "I know--I know she has. Mona'll be glad, too, some day." It did come, though, for the hurt was not as deep as she thought. Don't you, dear?" It won't take me so
very long, with my machine." They were quite plain little frocks, but in Mona's eyes
they were lovely. Her cheeks were almost as
pink as her gown. She looked like a
pretty pink blossom as she stood with the sunshine pouring in on her. "You do look nice, dear." She drew herself up, breathless, and glanced out. She longed to go and have a run,
the breeze and the sunshine seemed to be calling her. "Oh, my! He laughed, and pinched her cheeks. I shouldn't like to feel she was ailing, and all alone." She felt horribly guilty. she wondered,
"or were they still not on speaking terms?" "Oh, my! How nice you look, Mona. It's new, isn't it? "Oh, every day." The other's a blue one. "Um! Your mother is good to you, Mona Carne! "Home." "Oh, don't go home yet. Come on down too. She hesitated a moment and was lost. She turned and walked away from her
home. "Oh, Mona, look! "Good-bye," they called over their
shoulders. "Oh, Mona, look out for your basket, it's floating." Mona looked about her helplessly, her heart sinking right down, down. "I can't go home!" she sobbed. "I can't, I never can any more." Big sobs shook her, tears poured down her cheeks. "I can't go home,
I can't face them. Oh, what shall I do! She looked
down over her wet, green-slimed frock, so pretty and fresh but an hour
ago, and her sobs broke out again. Oh, I wish I'd never come, I wish I'd never met Phil and Patty--they'd no
business to ask me to come with them--it was too bad of them. Oh, what shall I do?" Then, "I'll go to granny," she
decided. Yes, I'll go
to granny. Now that she was losing her she realised how much she had
grown to love her mother in the short time she had lived with her, and how
good and kind Lucy had been. On she trudged, and on, and on. She ran down the hills, and trotted briskly along the level. "Perhaps it's going my way, and will give me a lift." "Good evening, missie," he said civilly. "Um! "From Seacombe," Mona admitted reluctantly. "I am," sighed Mona, pathetically. Mona laughed. "Thank you," she said, eyes and voice full of gratitude as
she clambered up the wheel, and perched herself on the high, hard seat
beside her new friend. "I'm very much obliged to you, sir. Gee up, you old rogue you!" he asked. Mona shook her head. "No, I--I missed my dinner. "Um! Peg away, then. And there's an orange, in case you're thirsty." "Oh, you are kind!" cried Mona, gratefully. "No, I haven't. "No." meaningly. "No, it isn't. "Um! Mona did not reply. "Well, Mona, what I was going to say was, you'll be tumbling off your seat
and find yourself under the wheel before you know where you are; so I'd
advise you to get behind there, and curl down into the straw. "Thank you," she was going to say, as she drew the
coat up over her, but she only got as far as 'thank,' and it seemed to her
that before she could say 'you,' she was roused again by the cart drawing
up, and there she was at her grandmother's gate, with granny standing on
the doorstep peering out into the dimness. "Is that you, Mr. "They don't know," stammered Mona. "I wasn't sent, I came. Oh, granny,
don't ask about it now--let me get indoors and sit down. "Oh, what I did isn't anything," he said amiably. I don't doubt but what you'd do as much for me, if I wanted it. Good night, Mrs. Barnes. Good night, little maid. Gee-up, Nettle, my son." gasped Lucy. Mona sat up and stretched, and rubbed her eyes. "I was fast asleep," she mumbled, yawning. "Oh, I'm so tired and I am aching all over. I don't believe
I'll ever wake up any more, granny. "To do some work for once. "The one you took off, I s'pose." It wants mending, too. "Um! "Well, I can't. Nonsense, I call it!" She was much thinner than she used to be, and very pale. She seemed,
somehow, to have shrunken in every way. "Yes--but who's going to make it fit? "No, I can't do it. "Mrs. Lane! Mrs. Lane! She longed to say it now, but her tongue failed her. "Puss, puss, puss," called a voice. "Come along, dears. Perhaps she had been attracted by the feeling that someone was
looking at her, or she may have heard something of Mona's arrival the
night before. Granny was sitting by the fire, a few sticks in her hand. "Then, perhaps, we'll all be friends again. "Don't you want it?" Granny asked sharply. "Why, how red you are, child! "No, I haven't," she said, sullenly. Now that she had lost her she
realised how good Lucy had been to her, and how much she loved her. For her sake, she would do all she could to control her temper and her
tongue. It was by acts, not words, that she
could serve Lucy best. Mona did try to be good, she tried hard, but she was very, very unhappy. She missed her home, she missed Lucy, and her father, and her freedom. She longed, too, with an intolerable longing, for the sight and the sound
of the sea. Mona did not realise that her grandmother was really seriously unwell,
and that her irritability she could not help. She was uncomfortable, too, as well as unhappy. She wanted her clothes,
her brush and comb, her books, and all her other belongings. "Well, Mona," he said quietly, as she stood facing him, shy and
embarrassed. "But--mine--don't differ," stammered Mona. You don't look first rate. "No, I ain't well,"
she said, dully. "I'm very, very far from well. "P'raps 'tis old age, then. I know what you are, you see." "What I was, you mean," said granny. "I don't seem to
have the strength to scrub anything now-a-days." "Thank you," said Mona, dully, and could think of nothing more to say,
though she knew her father waited for an answer. "It tempts anyone to eat," she remarked,
graciously. "Yes, thank you. "Oh, granny, do!" cried Mona, eagerly. We'd be at hand, too, to help 'ee
if you wasn't very well." She had felt very forlorn and old, and
helpless lately. You don't seem to have any particular feeling or you wouldn't be so ready
to leave first one and then the other, without even a heartache. "Oh, dear!" "The owl," she said to herself. But, in spite of her efforts, the cry reached her again and again. Again the cry came, "Mo--na! "Why, it's somebody calling me. Oh, dear! she called loudly. "All right, granny, I'm coming." "Yes, I'm feeling very bad. Oh, I've no one to come and do anything for me. she wondered. I'll go and put on my clothes. Oh, how bad I do feel!" "You'll do no such thing," she gasped. nervously. Mona, standing in the dark at Mrs. Lane's door, was trembling all over. Mona heard the surprise in Mrs. Lane's voice,
and feared she was going to refuse her. Then "Wait a minute," she said,
"I'll come down." "Why, how you are trembling, child, have you
had a shock? Mona nodded. "Yes, I'd been in bed a good while when I heard a cry,
such a funny kind of cry! "There, there, don't cry so, child, and don't worry any more," she said
gently, putting her arm affectionately round Mona's shaking shoulders,
"It's all over now! Come along,
we will see what we can do to help her." "I expect she has fallen asleep, I'll go up first and see; you light the
lamp in the kitchen, and bring me up a glass of cold water. "I--I will come with you." "It was too bad, though, to be calling you up in the
night--out of your bed. CHAPTER IX. Granny was much better, and was downstairs again, but she was weak and
very helpless still. She was sad too, and depressed. It saddened her, and broke her spirit. "I ought to be in a home. Granny was very hard to live with in those days. She grew, and grew rapidly, but she stooped so much she did not
look as tall as she really was. She had been round and rosy too,
and full of mischief. There's nothing else to do." You used to be so fond of reading." "I don't want to go out, granny. There's no one to play with--and I'm
afraid to leave you; what could you do if you were to faint again?" The child was right. Mona went on with her ironing, and granny went on staring into the fire,
and neither spoke again for some time. "Are you feeling bad again, granny?" she asked anxiously. You're weak, that's all. "I think so too," she said wistfully. I'd like to be nearer your father, and--and you would
be happy there, and perhaps you'd feel stronger. "No, child, I wouldn't rather stay. I'd like to go. asked Mona, with a little break in
her voice. "Yes, dearie," her eyes scanning Mona's face wistfully, "wouldn't you like
that?" Mona looked vexed. "Don't you trouble yourself about
that. I almost
wish I had, now. Perhaps she felt she could not
face the pain and the worry if she gave herself time to worry much. So far as I can see, there's good to be got out of most
things." she asked
eagerly. "Don't 'ee doubt, ma'am. "Don't you trouble about a single thing more, granny, there are plenty of
us to see to everything. Granny was interested at once, "Is it? Did you do that, Lucy?" Lucy nodded. "No, he's upstairs putting up your bed. You'll love it, I know." Her room was, she knew, at the back of the
house, so she went to it straight. Oh, I shall
love it up here! He had just finished, and was pushing the bed into place. If it rests with us to make her so, she shall be. Mona, you'd better make up her bed soon. There's no moving round the room, either, with those great
bundles there. "All right--in a minute, father." "Why--why, she's copied me!" Her father's voice broke
in on her musings, "that rope is caught round the bedpost." Mona went over, and released the rope, but returned again to the window. Her father straightened his back, and looked at her. She was put out about Millie, and Millie's frock, that
was all. "No--o, I--I--it was Millie Higgins' fault. Perhaps she found it dull at home, with Mona always shut
up in her own room. "I was going to get home in time." "Oh, no, she won't think about it, I expect. "You spoil her, granny! Then they both laughed, for each accused the other of 'spoiling' Mona. She was living their life. she demanded, bluntly. Granny isn't in, is she?" "How did you get in, and why did you come? If granny didn't send
you up, you'd no right to come. Mona looked frightened, and Millie noticed it. "I don't suppose you do! Why, how stupid you are! You couldn't if you wanted to--but you don't
really want to, I know. "Oh, if only someone would come!" "Millie, you've got to go away. "Oh, fie! Mona did not answer. But Mona stood leaning against the dressers, showing no sign of giving in. "Wake up, can't you!" Cups, plate, jugs came
rolling down on the top of those below. Her hands were cut, but she did not notice that. It was all your
fault, you know." Somebody had to break the news to her, too, and that somebody would
have to be herself. Millie spoke to her once or twice, but Mona could not reply. Mona heard her go, but made no effort to stop her. "Mona, may I come in?" It was Patty Row's voice. "Cub id," she called out as well as she could. "Cub id, Paddy." Oh, my! What has she done, Mona? "Oh, my. I wish--I wish I was dead. "Millie ought to tell her, of course. It's her doing. Mona shook her head. Patty pursed up her pretty lips. "She won't if I can help it," but she did not say so aloud. Mona shook her head despondently. Oh, Patty! "I shouldn't be surprised," said Patty. "There, that's the lot, Mona. It's bad enough, but not so bad as it seemed at first. There's two cups,
a plate, and a saucer of the set broken. "There, it doesn't look so dreadful now. she cried. "Mona!--Mona, dear, don't cry so. You'll be ill. I'll go and
tell Mrs. Barnes about it, and--and I'll tell her it wasn't your fault." "Oh, granny, granny,
what can I do? It--was an accident--I mean, I couldn't help it. "I wouldn't then, dear. "So I did," said granny, pathetically. 'Tis you will be the loser, dearie. You don't feel bad, do you?" "No, I ain't ill, only a bit tired. "Oh, no." "But there was more than that. You used to
go, didn't you? Mona nodded, but she coloured a little. "Yes, I'd like to go with Patty. "You read a lot, Mona. Mona looked surprised. "N--no. It's up at
Lucy's." "Yes--but it's never opened, not even to look at the pictures. I feel I haven't done my duty by you, child." "I don't s'pose we're any worse than some that
read their Bibles every day," she said, complacently. "That's not for you or me to say," retorted granny sternly. She turned quickly, and found her grandmother
gazing at the two halves of the broken tea-cup which she held in her
hands. "Very much, dearie. I always loved a nice story." "I know--it wasn't your fault. added granny, half under her breath. She hesitated, as though shy of even speaking the name. "Yes, dearie, I'd dearly love to hear the 86th Psalm." CHAPTER XI. Millie coloured, but she only laughed contemptuously. Have you
really, Miss Poll Pry! I saw you come out. I mean, I thought that was where
you came from. "No, she isn't." "Ta-ta, Patty-preacher." Patty's voice was not so much angry
as it was contemptuous, disgusted. It was a mean, common thing to do. "How she did cry, poor Mona! she called. "Oh, Patty, do speak!" She was not dead, and she was conscious. "Patty," she called, "swim towards me. I'll help you." "Oh, what a noise the sea made!" she asked, through her chattering teeth. I was tying up my
boot-lace." she asked. "Yes," said Patty, simply. Patty's voice was very grave. "Don't ask me, Mona. It's--it's too solemn to talk about." Mona was
astonished. She has been up to ever so
many, and then, as soon as they notice her, they move away. You just look at
her. She looked ready to cry with mortification. "Mona is going, too, ain't you, Mona? "You read
so much, you know which are the nicest." "All right," said Millie, in a choked kind of voice. And then the doors opened, and they all trooped into their places. She was quiet, and had very
little to say. asked granny. "Why, dearie?" "Try and tell me what she said," said granny. "Perhaps 'twould help an
old body, too." But Mona could not do that, nor could she put her feelings into words very
well. "I'll read to you instead, if you'd like me to, granny." She was fighting a big fight with herself, and she had
not won yet. But in the afternoon, when they came out of the school
library, the two walked together. Then Mona and Millie hesitated,
looking at each other. "I must go home, too," said Mona. She seemed nervous and
embarrassed, but Mona did not notice it. She was too much occupied in
glancing at the pictures in her book, and reading a sentence here and
there. Millie did not answer, and they walked the rest of the way in silence. Millie stood, and did not say good-bye. Her cheeks were
flushed, and she was evidently very nervous. she asked at last. "Yes, do come inside." Opening the door, she went in first. "Granny, here's Millie Higgins come to see you. "Well, Millie," she
said kindly. Sit down." "I'm very sorry I broke your beautiful set, Mrs. Barnes. She knew how much harder it is to make a confession if others are looking
on and listening. she gasped,
quite taken aback. "No, I didn't know but what she did it
herself. "Well, I did it," she said at last. she
added, colouring hotly again. I'll gladly pay for it to be mended, if it can be." "It's all right, Millie. Yes, I'm very glad of that. Now we'll try and forget all about it." "Don't run away, Millie." She wanted to be alone. "I--I think
I'd rather not--not now, thank you. I'll come--another day, if you will
ask me." She wanted to be alone, and free, to fight out her battle alone. She could
face people now, and not feel a sneak or a coward. And then Patty, poor little Patty. she asked. "I never smell any so sweet as yours, Mrs. Carne." "There," she said, "fasten those in your blouse. "Don't you?" questioned Millie, doubtfully. Lucy looked at her in faint surprise. "Goodbye." Her father, though, was not prepared to be amiable. He had got a
headache, and he wanted his tea. "I haven't been with anybody," she replied sharply. "I've been for a walk
by myself, that's all. "But I won't be long getting it now, father." With all her faults, Millie was a good cook, and looked after her
father well. He looked at her preparations approvingly, and his brow cleared. I was only a bit put out." CHAPTER XII. Mona's was red. It's a
pretty tale. I wish you had been hearing it too, Lucy. A funny sort of a name, to my mind." So do I. I love it." "They are long chapters. "Thank you," said Mona, but she looked and spoke glumly. "Don't trouble about it, if you don't care to have them," Lucy added
quietly. And Mona felt reproved. "That's right. Now, I'll cook the fish while you lay the cloth. I
should have been down before, but I had to see father off." Granny asked, anxiously. "Yes. "Yes, very much. "Oh, no! What, my Miss Lester? "Oh, I am so glad. Who is she engaged to, mother?" "Why, Dr. Edwards! Lucy was
almost as excited as Mona. So it
must be true, mustn't it?" And, oh, mother!" "Why, how the wind is
rising!" said Lucy, in a frightened voice. "Oh, dear! cried granny,
almost irritably. "And ploughmen and carpenters meet with their deaths, too. "I don't suppose it is very bad, really," said
Lucy, comfortingly. asked granny. Oh, I wish it was morning now," she added, almost passionately,
"and the night over, and the storm. I do long for rest." Lucy looked at her anxiously, surprised by the feeling in her voice. "Why,
mother! Granny nodded, but she did not answer. She turned to Mona. she asked. "The air'll do you good,
and help you to sleep." Mona did not need any urging. She looked about her for someone to talk to, but, seeing no one, she made
her way home again. Lucy looked at her anxiously. "Are you feeling very nervous, mother? I will if you wish." "I wasn't thinking about myself; I was thinking about you, up
there all alone." "Oh, I shall be all right. Now you go to bed
early, and try to go to sleep, then you won't notice the weather. Good night--good night, Mona." If I was in bed now this
minute, I believe I could sleep. Mona was more wakeful. Oh, how lovely it was--but what a long walk to be taking in such a high
wind. And, oh, dear! "I can't go. "Oh, what rest! They were people she knew,
she thought, yet they all looked so funny. She tried to put
out her hands to raise herself, but she could not move them. she asked sharply. Mona sat upright, and looked about her in a
bewildered way. she asked abruptly--almost violently. She was in bed. Oh, they must
have. "Oh, stop her--somebody, do, she'll be
killed." "She's got to know, poor maid. They would be a guide,
she thought. Lucy's stocks, still in the vase. The door was
closed. she screamed. "Oh, granny! CHAPTER XIII. "Oh, the wind! Oh, the awful wind!" Oh, the noise--I must find her--I must save her--
she's so feeble. Oh, granny! The nurse soothed and comforted her, and did all she could. You must try not to scream and call out, dear. she pleaded. "Poor dear," said Nurse. "I expect you're feeling your bruises now, and
your leg." "I seem to be one big lump of pain," sighed poor Lucy. "But I don't mind
if only Mona pulls through, and Peter is safe. "Now try not to dwell on it. There, look at those flowers Patty Row has brought you. "Oh, my!" "Stocks, and
sweet-brier--oh, how lovely! she asked a moment later, her face full of anxiety. Nurse nodded. "Yes, dear, he knows. "How very kind! Peter, I mean. Oh, I wish I could be there to help him, to comfort him. "My dear, he won't want for help. Of course, he is upset. When may I see him, Nurse?" "Why, however did you get here, dear? He patted her soothingly, holding her hand in his. "I know, I know--but
you must try not to dwell on it. she whispered, but more calmly. I've one bit of
comfort, though, for all of us. Thank Him, too, for Mona's sake. At that moment, though, Mona was troubled by no thoughts at all. she began. "Where are you, dear? Why, here in hospital, being taken care of, and
your mother is here, too." "Mother." "Yes, and we are looking after you so well! You are both better already." But, as memory returned, other fears took their
place. "Yes--but, oh, not nearly as badly as she might have been. You must keep very quiet now, and not talk." faltered Mona. "Your father is home, and safe and well. Your poor granny is safe, too, dear, and well. So well, she will never
suffer any more." "They--let her--die----"
"No one let her die, dear. He is longing to come to see you." They were delighted. "Yes, but not till next spring," she said. "Thank you for your good wishes, Mrs. Carne. "Oh, Miss Grace, I am calm--I really am. "Would she consent--Oh, would she? It would almost be too lovely, though," she concluded. "It could not
really come true." "Mona," said Miss Grace at last. Mona shook her head, her eyes were full of questioning. "Oh, Miss Grace!" "Oh, Miss Grace! "I wouldn't ask for
anything better for you, Mona. "How very nice of you, Mrs. Carne." "You make me feel--very, very proud--but--well, I will try to do my best
for her. Good-bye. "Oh, yes, I'll look after father. "I expect you will find the house in a pretty mess, and the garden too. "Don't you worry, mother, we'll soon get it all straight again. "But, Mona, you mustn't do too much." She knew how Mona could, and would work, when she was in the
mood to. Mona nodded, with a laugh in her eyes. triumphantly, when they presently drew up at the gate. Her father laughed too. "Mr. "I do. Oh, father, I wish mother could see it. And if a chance comes of doing anything for them--why, do it. Now, you
come along in, my girl, and sit down. "Why, it's like a palace! "I do that already," said Mona. "I mean," she added softly, "I am going to
try to be, father." CHAPTER XIV. More than six months have passed away, and spring has come. And, for a few weeks after, knew no peace
of mind. She was to have
muslin caps too, and white collars and cuffs. Lucy looked at her gratefully. "Then don't try," said Miss Grace. "I understand. "Oh, we are all doing our best to get plenty of those," said Lucy. Is it any special year----"
"It's your year, sir," laughed Lucy. Patty was
a blue girl, and Philippa a pink one. THE END.