by John Trevena
CHAPTER XIII
WASPS AND OTHER WORRIES
"Have you any idea what we are doing here?" Miss Yard inquired onemorning, while Nellie was assisting her to dress.
"We came to live with your sister," replied the girl.
"I suppose there's some truth in that. But what's the good of stayingnow Maria has gone to the seaside? I want to go home, and see my friendsagain," declared Miss Yard, declining the next garment until she shouldreceive a satisfactory answer.
"This is your home," said Nellie.
"Then why don't we have tea parties, and why don't we meet every week toknit chest protectors for the people who eat one another?"
"Because we no longer live in a town full of old ladies with nothing todo."
"There was an old clergyman who used to make me shiver with his dreadfulstories," added Miss Yard eagerly.
"Not exactly. While the rest of you knitted, one of the ladies used toread aloud from a book, written by a missionary who had spent thirtyyears upon an island in the Pacific; and he did mention that, when hefirst went there, the people were not vegetarians."
"And we sent him a lot of mufflers and mittens," cried Miss Yard.
"Yes, and he wrote back to say wool was much too warm for people whowore nothing at all."
"That's what made me shiver," said Miss Yard triumphantly. "It wasn't somuch what they ate, as their walking about without clothes. They used togo to church with nothing on. It must have been dreadful for the poorclergyman. No wonder his health broke down. We must go back," said MissYard decidedly. "I can't think what made me so silly as to come here. Doyou remember the lady who lived in a dandelion?"
"Now you really have puzzled me," laughed Nellie.
"A little yellow dandelion on a hill. There were no stairs to go up, butI didn't like it much in summer."
"I've got it! You mean the bungalow that belonged to Miss Winter. Youdidn't like her."
"She used to kiss the clergy," said Miss Yard sadly.
"My dear Miss Sophy you must not libel people. She told you once theonly men she ever had kissed were clergymen; one was her father, andthe other her uncle. What makes you remember all this?"
"Percy has written to me, and says he's going to be a missionary."
"Let me see the letter."
"It's on my table. I'm sure Percy will make a good missionary, for whenhe wants money, he's not ashamed to ask for it."
"This is an appeal from the Society for Supplying Paper-patterns of theLatest Fashions to the Ladies of the Solomon Islands."
"That's where Percy is going. I do hope they will dress themselvesproperly for his sake."
"Oh, here it is!" cried Nellie, discovering a letter on the carpet. "SoMr. Taverner is coming here next week."
"And he's going to bring me some tomatoes."
"He's going to bring his fiancee," said Nellie.
"Now I've quite forgotten what that is."
"The young lady he's going to marry."
"That's what I mean. I get so confused between tomatoes and mortgages."
"He has just come into some money most unexpectedly," Nellie read. "Hearrived at the conclusion long ago that the climate of England is quiteunsuitable for the cultivation of tomatoes; and as he is anxious toexploit the capabilities of his new variety, he is going to settle,after his marriage, in Tasmania, which he believes is an island with afuture. He is coming to Highfield to bid his dear good aunt a longfarewell. Whatever gave you the idea he was going to be a missionary?"
"Doesn't he say so?" asked Miss Yard.
"No, he is going to Tasmania to grow tomatoes."
"I suppose I used to know something about Tasmania; but then I used tobe very good at acrostics, and I can't do them now."
"It's an island near Australia. But not every one who goes to an islandin the Pacific intends to be a missionary," said Nellie, adding toherself, "This will be delightful news for George."
That gentleman was depressed, for he had just received an anonymouscommunication threatening him with a fearful end upon the day that thefirst boulder of the new railway was blasted. Also Crampy had sent him aperplexing note, mentioning that some experts believed the vases weregenuine, while others declared them to be forgeries; but, in any case,he had succeeded already in disposing of them.
When George had read Percy's letter, which Miss Yard passed across thebreakfast table, with the remark that she herself would like to live "inthe Pacific," if he could find her an island where the police insistedupon the wearing of apparel during divine service, he became highlysuspicious, and suggested to Nellie in an undertone that Percy hadselected the Antipodes with a view to removing himself as far aspossible from the Central Criminal Court.
"He's going to grow Tasmanias in Tomato," announced Miss Yard.
"He means to grow giant tomanias--I mean tomatoes, in--oh, bother!"laughed Nellie. "Miss Sophy has muddled me. Why shouldn't Mr. Tavernergrow tomatoes in Tasmania?"
"What about this money? Would anybody leave money to Percy unless theyhad to?" cried George.
"It may have been left to his young lady," suggested Nellie.
"He has robbed someone," said George bitterly, "and now he's running offthe earth to hide the swag."
"If I wanted to say something nasty about Mr. Taverner," said Nellie, "Imight suggest he had become engaged to Miss Lee because this money hadbeen left to her."
"I should be certain of it, if he wasn't clearing out of the country,"replied George.
"Isn't this honey?" complained Miss Yard. "What makes it taste sobitter?"
"Heavens, don't swallow them! Have they stung you?" cried Nellie,perceiving suddenly that the good lady was spreading her buttered toastwith a mixture of crushed wasps and honey.
"They are not at all nice. Did the doctor order me to have them?"
"They are wasps, Aunt," said George bluntly.
"Are they the things that turn into butterflies?" gasped Miss Yard,rising from her chair and showing signs of distress.
"Don't worry, dear. They are quite harmless. Come and lie down, and I'llbring you something to wash out your mouth," said Nellie; and shecarried off the old lady. While George, always ready to playemergency-man, rushed into the kitchen, acquainted Kezia with what hadhappened owing to her gross carelessness in putting away the honey potwith the lid off, and ordered her to despatch a telegram to the doctor.Then he went into the parlour and observed consolingly:
"People can live a long time with bullets inside them. Wasps can't beworse, especially as they must be digestible."
"I am afraid of the stinging parts," said Nellie.
"Perhaps they are worn off," he replied.
Miss Yard lay upon the sofa breathing peacefully, thankful she had madeher will, but looking wonderfully healthy. She complained, however, ofdrowsiness, whereupon Bessie, who had rushed across the road at thefirst alarm, and was then standing in the parlour armed with the brandybottle and blue bag, exclaimed incautiously, "That shows they'mstinging her. Robert ses his father wur bit by a viper, and he drank abottle of brandy and lay unconscious vor twenty-four hours."
"Was it really a viper?" groaned the sufferer.
"I don't think they will do her any harm," said George. "In somecountries the people live on frogs and slugs."
"And St. John the Baptist always had grasshoppers with his honey," addedBessie reverently.
"And Germans eat worms, and thrive on 'em," George concluded.
Kezia was crying in the hall, declaring that the jury would bring it inmanslaughter. Being called upon by Bessie to make some valedictoryremark to the poor lady, she approached, and blubbered out:
"Mrs. Cann ses, miss, you ain't to worry. She can't hardly open hermouth in the post office without swallowing something; and one evening,miss, taking her supper in the dark, she ate a beetle; and there's moregood food about than us knows of, she ses; and it 'twas all cooked,miss, and if it warn't vor the look of such things, we might live a lotmore cheaply than we do; vor she ses, miss, 'tis ho
rrible to think whatducks eat, but there's nothing tastier than a duckling, 'cept it be anice bit of young pork; and she ses, miss, she saw a pig of hers eat aviper--"
"There's nothing here about internal wasp stings," broke in Nellie, whohad been consulting a book of household remedies.
"I can't think how it got into the house," Miss Yard was moaning, withher eyes fixed upon vacancy. "It seems wonderful that it should have rundown my throat when I wasn't looking."
"Are you in any pain, dear?" asked Nellie.
"No," replied Miss Yard in a disappointed voice.
"They'm always like that," wept Kezia. "My poor missus was wonderfulwell the morning she wur took."
"I'm going away too," said the invalid. "Will you find me a train,George?"
"Where to?" asked the obliging nephew.
"The place where Nellie and I came from. I don't know what they used tocall it."
"We'll go directly you are well," Nellie promised.
George brought a railway timetable, a pair of compasses, and a map ofthe British Isles; and delivered a lecture which delighted the old ladyso much that she forgot her pangs, and was greatly astonished when thedoctor bustled into the room thankful to know he was not too late.
"I suppose you want a subscription," said Miss Yard.
"I had a telegram saying you were seriously ill, but I have never seenyou looking better," replied the doctor.
"Yes, I am wonderfully well, thank you. I hope you're the same," saidthe merry patient.
"Oh, doctor!" cried Nellie, entering the apartment. "Miss Yard waseating her breakfast--"
"And I swallowed a snake! Do you know I had forgotten all about it!"cried the old lady.
Nellie revised this version, and the doctor was professionally compelledto act the pessimist. He advised a little walk in the garden, tocomplete digestion of the wasps, recommended a stimulant, prescribed atonic, and promised to call every day until the patient should be in afair way to recovery.
Then he departed, and Miss Yard immediately suffered a relapse broughton entirely by the visit. She was stricken with some mortal disease, andthey were hiding the truth from her. She consented to walk round thegarden, as it would be for the last time; then, having insisted uponbeing put to bed, she implored Nellie to tell her the worst; and, whenthe girl declared it was nothing but a little indigestion, the old ladylost her temper, and said it was very unjust she should have to die of adisease that was not serious.
"There's nothing whatever the matter," said Nellie.
"Then what's all this fuss about?" asked Miss Yard.
"You are making the fuss."
"I didn't send for the doctor. And he's coming again tomorrow. It's notmeasles, and it's not whooping cough, but I believe it's poison. Bessieput poison into the teapot."
"Why Bessie?"
"I knew she would do something dreadful if she didn't stop growing. AndRobert is so short. It must all mean something. He held the teapot whileBessie put in the poison. Nasty bitter stuff it was too! I suppose Imust forgive them, though I don't like doing it. Where is George?"
"He is packing. He's going away tomorrow."
"But he must stay for the funeral!"
"There's not going to be a funeral. You know Mr. George must leave us;he has told you so lots of times."
"Tell him to come here. I must give him a present. Look in the cupboardand find me something to give George. And pack up all my clothes, for Ishan't want them again. Send them to that Bishop who wrote and said hehadn't got any."
"I don't think, really, your clothes are suitable for the ladies of theLonesome Islands," said Nellie.
"You must keep the best things. I want you to have my black silk dressand the coat trimmed with jet ornaments. They will come in nicely foryour wedding. Perhaps George would like a brooch. Tell Bessie and Robertto come here at five o'clock to be forgiven--but I won't promise. Youmust write to Percy, and tell him I was so sorry not to be able to saygood-bye, but the end came suddenly, though I was quite prepared for it.Why aren't you packing my clothes--or did you say George was doing it?"
"I'll call him. And if you worry me much more I shall swear," saidNellie.
George came and mourned over his aunt because the time of separation wasat hand. Miss Yard agreed, but almost forgot her own impending departurewhen George explained he was referring to himself.
"Oh, but you are not going to die yet. I'm sure that isn't necessary.Besides, you are looking so well," she said earnestly.
"He is not looking a bit better than you are," cried Nellie.
"I am about to start on a long journey, Aunt," said George piteously.
"Oh, yes! I remember now about the island in the Pacific where thetomatoes grow."
"I have been working rather too much lately, and need a rest," heexplained; "but directly you want me back you have only to send aninvitation."
"I shall be left all alone--oh, but I forgot," said Miss Yard,interrupting herself in a shocked voice. "You must stay, George, to dome a great favour. I want you to bury me in Westminster Abbey in thenext grave to Queen Elizabeth."
"My dear Miss Sophy!" exclaimed Nellie.
"Don't listen to that child. She is in a nasty cross mood--and somebodyhas been teaching her to swear. I took a fancy to Westminster Abbey whenI was quite young, and, even if it is rather expensive, I should like totreat myself to a grave there."
"I'll see to it," George promised.
"You shouldn't say such a wicked thing," cried Nellie.
"Are you suffering at all, Aunt?" he inquired, anxious to change thesubject.
"I don't think so," said Miss Yard. "It's all going to be wonderfullypeaceful. I'm so thankful!"
"Shall I ask the vicar to call?" George whispered.
"Of course not," said Nellie fretfully. "She would think he had come toprepare her. I am very sorry you sent for the doctor. Here's anotherbeastly wasp! Do kill it."
"Is she packing my clothes?" whispered Miss Yard, peering over thebedspread.
"No, and I'm not going to," replied the young rebel.
George struck out manfully at the living wasp, knocked it downsomewhere, and began to search for the body which was still buzzing.
"Oh dear!" cried Miss Yard. "There's such a dreadful pain in my hand."
"I knocked it on the bed. She really is stung this time!" Georgeshouted, seizing the insect in his handkerchief and destroying it; whileNellie fled for the restoratives which were necessary at last.
It was the best thing that could have happened, for immediately her handwas bandaged, Miss Yard's interest became centred in that, and sheforgot there was anything else to worry about. When the doctor callednext day, he was advised to say nothing about affairs internally, but toconcentrate all his ability, and his bedside manner, upon the outwardand manifest sting; with the result that Miss Yard was pronounced out ofdanger within forty-eight hours; by which time George had vacated thepremises and made room for Percy.
Hardly had he driven away when there came a knock upon the back door,and when Kezia went to answer it, she found the Wallower in Wealthstanding there, with twenty-five shillings in his hand and a bargainingexpression on his face. Having inquired after the well-being of everyone in the house, and made a few remarks upon the climate, he statedthat he had lately enjoyed a conversation with the blacksmith, who haddeclared there never was a machine he couldn't mend and, if the musicalbox were brought to his forge, he would speedily compel it to play allkinds of music.
"What's it all about?" asked Kezia; and, as she put the question, Bessiecrossed the road. Upon those rare occasions when she happened to be athome, there was nothing going on in the house opposite which Bessie didnot contemplate from her upstairs window.
"Mr. Drake promised me the musical box," explained the visitor, who hadwatched the departure of George before setting out on his expedition.
"It ain't his, and he knows it. And you knows it too," said Keziawarmly, "else you wouldn't ha' waited till he'd gone away."
"Go
ne away, has he!" exclaimed the Wallower in Wealth. "You give me hisaddress and I'll send the money on to him."
"That musical box belongs to me," said Kezia.
This was a critical moment in Bessie's career; to have yielded thenwould have meant the complete abandonment of all her rights infurnishings. She did not hesitate in declaring war upon her ancient allywith two steely words:
"'Tis mine!"
"I'm surprised to hear you say such a thing, Bessie Mudge; and MissSophy lying ill in bed too," replied Kezia.
"Mrs. Drake left me the musical box, and I ha' got writing to prove it,and me and Robert are only waiting vor Miss Sophy's funeral to take it."
"Mrs. Drake said I wur to have all the furniture in the house."
"I wouldn't like to have to call you anything," said Bessie.
"And I'd be cruel sorry to fancy you craved to hear the like," retortedKezia.
Then they paused to think out new ideas, and to place their arms in moreaggressive attitudes.
"When furniture be left to more than one person simultaneous, 'tis usualto divide it," explained the Wallower of Wealth.
"Half a musical box b'ain't of no use to me."
"Nor me."
"You sell me the box, and I'll give you twelve shillings, and twelveshillings to Mrs. Mudge, and I'll get it put right at my own expense,"said the Wallower in Wealth, seeking to introduce the peaceful principleof compromise.
"I wouldn't take twelve pounds. The Captain told me there warn't anotherbox like that in this world," said Kezia.
"He told me there wur another, but 'twas lost," replied Bessie, addingwith the same spirit of determination, "I wouldn't take twelve poundsneither. Robert ses not a thing in the house can be sold without hisconsent."
"Who's Robert Mudge?" cried Kezia, in the voice of passion.
"He's my husband," replied Bessie.
"And who be you?"
"I'm his wife."
"Sure enough! They'm husband and wife. I saw 'em married," said theWallower in Wealth, with a distinct impression that Bessie was winningon points.
"I don't know what's going to happen to us, I'm sure," said Kezia. Then,in accordance with military strategy, she conquered the enemy byabandoning her position and slamming the door after her.
That evening Bessie advanced as usual for coffee, which included a hotmeal, and during this campaign Robert did not accompany her, beingdetained, according to the best of his wife's belief, in the bakery,working overtime at buns. Kezia distrusted this communication, as nofestival of buns was impending, and arrived at the conclusion that theassistant baker had absented himself from coffee drinking owing to abashfulness not uncommon in the time of war and tumults. Having, as shesupposed, abated the pride of Robert, Kezia sought to assuage the maliceof Bessie by small talk concerning Miss Yard's convalescence, thedeparture of George, which was positively final like the last appearanceof an actor, and the Turkish state of things at Black Anchor. But themusical box remained an obsession, playing a seductive jig for Bessie,and a triumphal march for Kezia; and at last the former said:
"Me and Robert ha' been talking, and he ses nothing should be took awayavore Miss Sophy dies."
"That's what my dear missus said. Not me, nor you, nor Mr. George, wurto touch anything till Miss Sophy had been put away," agreed Kezia.
"Didn't Mr. George sell part o' the cloam?" asked Bessie.
"Well, Bess, I did give 'en a pair of old vases. I know I ought not toha' done it, but we've got plenty o' cloam, and I wanted the poor fellowto have something, him being a relation."
"What us wants to think about is this," Bessie continued, "me and youain't agoing to quarrel. Mrs. Drake made a lot of mistakes in herlifetime, poor thing, and 'tis vor us to make the best of 'em."
"I'm sure I put in a good word vor you many a time," declared Kezia.
"I know you did," said Bessie warmly.
"I used to say to missus, 'Never mind about me, but do ye leave Mr.George and Bessie something. I don't care about myself,' I said."
"When us come back from Miss Sophy's funeral, us will divide up thethings. First I'll take something."
"First me!" said Kezia sharply.
"You'm the eldest. You can take first," said the generous Bessie. Thenshe inclined her head towards the door and whispered, "Ain't thatsomeone in the hall?"
"'Tis only Miss Nellie," said Kezia. "There's a drop o' cocoa left inthe saucepan, Bess."
"I'm sorry us had words today, Kezia," said Bessie, as she took thedrop.
"Don't ye say anything more about it. I'm sure the dear missus wouldwalk if she fancied we weren't friendly. But I do wish she hadn't got soforgetful like."
"That ain't Nellie!" cried Bessie, listening again.
"Sounds as if Miss Sophy had got out of bed and fallen down."
"'Twas a bump vor certain. I'm agoing to see," said Bessie, opening thekitchen door.
She advanced along the passage, but was back in a moment.
"The hall door's wide open--and I saw a light from the parlour."
"There's a man in the house!" screamed Kezia. "Don't ye go out, Bess!"
"Who's there?" called the valorous Bessie, advancing again to thepassage. Then she shrunk back, crying:
"Here's a young man--and here's an old 'un. They're carrying something.Don't ye go out, Kezia."
"Oh, my dear, I ain't agoing to," faltered Kezia, retiring into the farcorner of the scullery.
"They'm running!" Bessie muttered. "One wur youngish, and t'other wuroldish. They ha' gone now. I heard 'em shut the gate."
"'Tis they Brocks," whispered Kezia in terror of her life.
"'Tis somebody who knew Miss Sophy wur lying ill in bed."
Bessie took the lamp and went forth boldly, calling a challenge at everystep. Presently Kezia plucked up courage to follow, and they wenttogether into the parlour.
The musical box had disappeared: so had the pair of silver candlesticks,the Russian Ikon, and various other rich and rare antiquities.
"Oh, Kezia; ain't it awful in a Christian country!" exclaimed Bessie.
"Go vor policeman! No, don't ye--they may come back again."
Then Kezia's eyes fell upon the mummy, and she cried hysterically,"Thank heaven they ha' spared the King of Egypt!"
