The Lady of the Forest: A Story for Girls

by L. T. Meade

  CHAPTER XXIII.--FOREST LIFE.

  The spring came early that year. A rather severe winter gave place tocharming and genial weather. In April it was hot, and the trees madehaste to clothe themselves with their most delicate and fairy green, theflowers peeped out joyfully, the birds sang from morning till night, andthe forest became paradise.

  Rachel, Kitty, and Phil almost lived there. Miss Griselda and MissKatharine had become lenient in the matter of lessons. Miss Griselda waswise enough to believe in nature's lessons and to think fine fresh airthe best tonic in all the world for both mind and body. Phil was in hiselement in the forest. He was always finding new beetles and freshvarieties of chrysalides, which he and Kitty carefully treasured; and asto the roots and the flowers and the mosses which these childrencollected, even good-natured Newbolt at last gave vent to strongexpressions of disapproval, and asked if the whole of the house was tobe turned topsy-turvy with their messes.

  Phil could do what he liked in his old tower bedroom; his mother neverinterfered with him there. This quaint old room was Liberty Hall toPhil. Here he could groan if he wanted to, or sigh if he wanted to, ortalk his secrets to the silent, faithful walls if he wanted to; and herehe brought his spiders and his beetles and his mosses, and kept them inodd bottles and under broken glasses, and messed away to his heart'scontent without any one saying him nay.

  Downstairs Mrs. Lovel was a most careful and correct mother--neverpetting and never spoiling, always on her guard, always watchful andprim. Miss Griselda was wont to say that with all her follies she hadnever come across a more sagacious and sensible mother than Mrs. Lovel.As a mother she approved of her absolutely; but then Miss Griselda neversaw behind the scenes; she never saw what went on in the tower bedroom,where Mrs. Lovel would take the boy in her arms, and strain him to herheart with passionate kisses, and pet him and make much of him, andconsult him, and, above all things, faithfully promise him that afterthe 5th of May the burden which was crushing his young life should beremoved, and he might be his own natural and unrestrained self again.

  Mrs. Lovel had got a dreadful fright when she first read young Rupert'sletter; but when day after day and week after week passed and no tidingsof Rupert or his father reached Avonsyde, she began to hope that eventhough they were in England, they had come over on business in no wayconnected with the old family home; in short, even though they were inEngland, they had not seen those advertisements which had almost turnedher head.

  The weeks passed quickly, and she began to breathe freely and to bealmost happy once more. The loss of the tankard was certainlydisquieting, but she felt sure that with the aid of the stolen lettersshe could substantiate her boy's claim, and she also reflected that ifthe tankard was lost to her it was also lost to her brother-in-law,Rupert Lovel.

  So life went quite smoothly at Avonsyde, and day after day the weatherbecame more balmy and springlike, and day after day Miss Griselda'sface wore a softer and gentler expression; for the little heir-apparentwas altogether after her own heart, and she was contented, as all womenare when they find a worthy object to love.

  Miss Katharine too was smiling and happy in these early spring days. Shehad never forgotten the face of the mother who had left her two childrenin her charge nearly six years ago. That young and agonized face hadhaunted her dreams; some words which those poor trembling lips haduttered had recurred to her over and over.

  "It breaks my heart to part with the children," the mother had said,"but if in no other way I can provide for their future, I sacrificemyself willingly. I am willing to obliterate myself for their sakes."

  Miss Katharine had felt, when these words were wrung from a brave andtroubled heart, that pride was indeed demanding a cruel thing; but forMiss Griselda she would have said:

  "Come here with your children. You are Valentine's wife, and for hissake we will be good to you as well as them."

  Miss Katharine had longed to say these words, but fear of her eldersister had kept her silent, and ever since her heart had reproached her.Now she felt cheerful, for she knew that on Rachel's birthday the motherof the children would return, and she knew also that when she came shewould not go away again.

  Rachel's charming little face had lost a good deal of its watchful andunrestful expression during the last few weeks. She had seen Nancy Whitemore than once, and Nancy had so strongly impressed on her the fact thaton the 5th of May the lady of the forest would reveal herself, and allthe mystery of her secret and her seclusion be explained, that thelittle girl grew hopeful and bright and fixed her longing eyes on thatbirthday which was to mean so much to so many. Kitty too looked forwardto the 5th of May as to a delightful general holiday; in short, everyone was excited about it, except the child to whom it meant the most ofall. Little Phil alone was unconcerned about the great day--little Philalone lived happily in the present, and, if anything, rather put thefuture out of sight. To him the thought of the inheritance which on thatday was to be forced upon him was felt to be a heavy burden; but, then,those little shoulders were already over-weighted, and God knew andlittle Phil also knew that they could not bear any added burden.

  Of late little Phil had been very glad to feel that God knew about hissecrets and his cares, and in his own very simple, childish little wayhe used lately to ask him not to add to them; and now that he was sureGod knew everything, he ceased to trouble his head very much about allthat was to happen on Rachel's birthday.

  Thus every one at Avonsyde, with the exception of little Phil, was happyin the future, but he alone was perfectly happy in the present. Hiscollection of all kinds of natural curiosities grew and multiplied, andhe spent more and more time in the lovely forest. The delicious springair did him good, and his mother once more hoped and almost believedthat health and strength lay before him.

  One day, quite toward the end of April, Kitty, his constant companion,had grown tired and refused to stay out any longer. The day was quitehot, and the little boy wandered on alone under the shade of the trees.As usual when quite by himself, he chose the least-frequented paths, andas usual the vague hope came over him that he might see the lovely greenlady of the forest. No such exquisite vision was permitted to him, butinstead he came suddenly upon Nancy White, who was walking in the forestand picking up small dry branches and sticks, which she placed in alarge basket hung over her arm. When she saw Phil she started and almostdropped her basket.

  "Well I never!" she exclaimed. "You has gone and given me a start,little master."

  "How do you do, Nancy?" said Phil, going up to her, speaking in a politevoice, and holding out his hand. "How is the lady of the forest? Pleasetell her that, I have kept her secret most carefully, that no one knowsit but Rachel, and she knew it long ago. I hope the lady is very well,Nancy."

  "Yes, my dear, she is well and hopeful. The days are going on, MasterPhilip Lovel, and each day as it passes brings a little more hope. I amsure you are little gentleman enough to keep the lady's secret."

  "Everybody speaks about the days passing and hope growing," said Phil."I--I--Nancy, did you ever see the green lady about here? She could bringme hope. How I wish I could see her!"

  "Now, don't be fanciful, my dear little gentleman," answered Nancy."Them thoughts about fairies and such-like are very bad for growingchildren. You shouldn't allow your head to wander on such nonsense.Little boys and girls should attend to their spelling lessons, and eatplenty, and go to bed early, and then they have no time for frettingafter fairies and such. It isn't canny to hear you talk as you do of thegreen lady, Master Phil."

  "Isn't it?" said Phil. "I am sorry. I do wish to see her. I want a giftfrom her. Good-by, Nancy. Give my love to the lady."

  "I will so, dear; and tell me, are you feeling any way more perky--likeyourself?"

  "I'm very well, except when I'm very bad," answered Phil. "Just now I'mas well as possible, but in the evenings I sometimes get tired, and thenit rather hurts me to mount up so many stairs to my tower bedroom; butoh! I would not sleep in any other room for the world. I lov
e my towerroom."

  "Well, you'll be a very happy little boy soon," said Nancy--"a veryhappy, rich little boy; for if folks say true everything has to be givento you on the 5th of May."

  "A lot of money and lands, you mean," said Phil. "Oh, yes; but theyaren't everything--oh, dear, no! I know what I want, and I am not likelyto have it. Good-by, Nancy; good-by."

  Phil ran off, and Nancy pursued her walk stolidly and soberly.

  "The look grows," she said to herself--"the look grows and deepens. Poorlittle lad! he is right enough when he says that gold and lands won'tsatisfy him. Well, now, I'm doing him no harm by keeping back the silvertankard. It's only his good-for-nothing mother as will be put out, andthat middle-aged man in London and that other boy. What do I care forthat other boy, or for any one in all the world but my missus and herdear little ladies? There, there, that tankard is worse than a nightmareto me. I hate it, and I'd give all the world never to have seen it; butthere, now that I've got it I'll keep it."