Black, White and Gray: A Story of Three Homes

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

  STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.

  Summer, which had seemed very long in coming to Dennis and Maisie, hadat last made up its mind, and was really here, bringing all its bestpleasures and most beautiful things to look at and enjoy. It was reallyhot weather, so that it was possible almost to live out of doors, and tohave tea in the garden as a matter of course. Hot enough always to wearcotton frocks and holland suits, and sun-bonnets and broad straw hats,to do very few lessons, and to be out quite late in the evening. Theroses were in bloom, the fields smelt sweet with new-mown hay, thestrawberries were ripe: it was glorious June weather.

  But at Upwell, though it was quite as hot, it was not by any means sobeautiful. There the narrow dusty streets were stifling; the sun'sfierce rays beat down on the houses all day, and when night came, itbrought no coolness or relief, and there seemed no air to breathe. Itwas not so bad for the people who could get away from the town whentheir work was done, into the fields and lanes for a while; but therewere some who were old or sick and could not move, and amongst these waspoor Becky. She got thinner and whiter and weaker as the hot daysfollowed each other, and though she was very patient, and always readyto say, "Better, thank you," with a smile, when her visitors asked howshe was, she did not really feel better at all.

  But though this was the case, she was not unhappy, and the days wereseldom long and weary as they used to be, for she now had three friendswho paid her constant visits--Philippa, Maisie, and Dennis. To expecttheir coming, to think of all they had said, and how they had looked,were such new pleasures that Becky was now more than contented with herlot. Some day she was going to get well, and run about again, andperhaps dance to the organ in the street; meanwhile she had her kitten,and she had her friends; it was all much better than it used to be.Amongst the three, she perhaps looked forward the least to seeingPhilippa, who never came without an offering of some kind--apicture-book, or something nice to eat. Philippa tried hard to please,but there was always a little condescension in her manner, from whichher cousins were quite free.

  Maisie and Dennis seldom brought any present but a bunch of flowers, ora few strawberries, yet they seemed to leave behind them many otherpleasant things to think of, which lasted until they came again. SoBecky, in spite of aches and pains, thought herself very lucky just now,and would indeed have been surprised to know that there were stillluckier days waiting for her not very far off.

  For, meeting Dr Price in Upwell one day, Aunt Katharine stopped to speakto him, and asked what he thought of Becky, and whether she would soonget stronger. Dr Price shook his head.

  "I can't do much more for her," he said, "all the while she has to stopin that stuffy room and get no fresh air. She ought to be out all daythis weather. A month in the country would give her a chance."

  A month in the country! Aunt Katharine drove home full of thought, andinstead of stopping at Fieldside, went straight on to the Manor Farm.Could Mrs Solace tell her, she asked, after describing Becky's conditionin a moving manner, of any suitable place in the village where the childcould be lodged for a while? Now, if Mrs Solace had a weakness, it wasto nurse and pet up anything ailing or delicate, and restore it tohealth. She did wonders with weakly chickens, invalid cows, and othercreatures on the farm requiring care and comfort.

  "Why shouldn't the child come here, Miss Chester?" she asked at once.

  "Well, of course," replied Aunt Katharine, inwardly rejoiced at hersuccess, "if you don't mind the trouble--"

  No trouble at all, Mrs Solace declared, with her large beaming smile.There would be new milk for her, and fresh air, and the garden to sitin, and the beasts to amuse her; and she'd be better off than anywherein the village. As to Andrew--certainly there had been a time whenAndrew wouldn't have wished to encourage the Tuvvys, but that was overand done with. Tuvvy was as steady as you please now, and a valuableworkman, and they'd be pleased to do anything for his child. BeforeAunt Katharine left, the very hour and day of Becky's arrival werefixed. She was to come back in one of Mr Solace's wagons, which had tocarry a load to Upwell station.

  "She'll travel easiest so," said Mrs Solace, "because she can lie flat;and there's a tilt to the cart, so she'll be well shaded from the sun."

  In this way, a few days later, Becky performed the journey betweenUpwell and Fieldside, not without a little fear and trembling at goingso far into the wide world. When the moment came, it was hard to leavethe dim room, the uneasy couch, the things she knew so well; and thelook of the bright sunshine outside dazzled her unaccustomed eyes andmade her blink. She had, however, two great comforts. Dan had begged aday's holiday that he might see her safely to the Manor Farm, and MrsSolace had invited the grey kitten to come also. With these two friendsto support her, Becky felt some courage, and after all, although she didnot know Mr or Mrs Solace, there would be father at work quite near, andvisits from the children at Fieldside.

  Mr Solace's big wagon seemed to fill Market Street. The four iron-greyhorses tossed all their gleaming brass medals with a jingling sound, asthey stamped impatiently at the flies and gnats.

  "We'll not have a heavy load home along, anyway," said George thecarter, as he lifted Becky and her little bundle carefully on to themattress in the wagon, "and you'll ride like a queen."

  When she was comfortably settled, with Dan by her side holding thekitten in a hamper, the journey began. Not a hurried or discomposingone, for the grey horses, knowing that there was plenty of time beforethem, never changed their pace from a stately walk the whole way. Sothe wagon rolled majestically along through the noisy streets, out intothe quiet open country, and carried Becky towards new scenes and freshfaces. The children at Fieldside had entreated permission to go andreceive her on her arrival, but this Aunt Katharine would not allow.

  "She will be tired, and perhaps rather shy at coming amongst strangers,"she said; "the fewer people she sees at first the better. Leave her toMrs Solace."

  So Dennis and Maisie had to content themselves with seeing the wagonpass through the village, and knowing that Becky was in it. The nextday Tuvvy stopped on his way home to say that she was not much tired,and doing finely, and Mrs Solace would be glad if Miss Maisie and MasterDennis would call in to see her. It was most provoking after this, thatquite suddenly, following weeks of fine bright weather, the rain began,and would not leave off. Day after day one steady downpour: streamingwindow-panes, great puddles in the garden paths, grey sky, and wet greenleaves.

  "_Isn't_ it unlucky for Becky?" said Maisie, looking out of theplay-room window at the dreary dripping scene. "She won't be able to goout at all."

  "It's unlucky for every one," answered Dennis. "Mr Solace doesn't wantrain with nearly all his hay down."

  Maisie's eyes were fixed on the grass-plot beneath the window, where acompany of starlings were busily engaged digging for worms and grubs.

  "It isn't unlucky for quite every one," she remarked; "the birds likeit."

  "But the worms don't," added Dennis quickly.

  Maisie was silent. She had a tender heart, but she disliked worms verymuch, and was always filled with disgust and fear when she dug them upin her little garden. She could not feel quite so sorry for them as shedid for other things in trouble.

  "There's one good thing," resumed Dennis, after a little silence, "it_can't_ go on raining much longer, because of Mrs Solace's strawberryparty. It's certain to clear up in time for that."

  Maisie agreed. "But," she added with a sigh, "that's a whole week off,and I do so want to see how Becky and the kitten are getting on."

  Mrs Solace's strawberry party was a yearly entertainment which shealways gave in June, just when the strawberries were ripe, and thechildren considered it the very best party in the summer. Others mightbe grander: at the vicarage, for instance, there was always a band, andat the Broadbents' there were glee-singers and ices; but when allattractions had been counted up, the Manor Farm still remained the placewhich pleased them most. Every one went
to Mrs Solace's party, and cameaway with a feeling that they had spent a pleasant time. The vicar andhis sister never missed it; Aunt Katharine and the children, theBroadbents, and others owning farms near Fieldside--even Dr Price, whowas shy of gatherings in general--all met and talked to each other withsmiling faces in the pretty old garden at the Manor Farm. Tea, withheaped-up dishes of strawberries, and a plentiful supply of cream, stoodready on little tables under the veranda, so that people could helpthemselves when and how they liked. Nothing could be more simple thanMrs Solace's preparations, and yet her party was always successful. Sheasked every one, paying no attention at all to family quarrels or theniceties of social position amongst the neighbouring farmers, and yetthere were no haughty looks. Even the Broadbents, who were alwaysprepared to be a little superior to every one, laid aside their elegantexclusiveness, and descended to the common ground of unaffectedgood-nature and enjoyment.

  Perhaps one of the great reasons that made the party so pleasant was,that you might, as Dennis had said, always count on having a fine day.However wet or dull or cold it had been, the weather was sure to clear,and the sun to shine, for Mrs Solace, just on that special occasion, sothat the children had grown to expect it as a matter of course. And yetanother reason lay in the simple kindliness and good-will of Mrs Solaceherself. The genial warmth of her welcome spread itself abroad andinfluenced her guests, much as the bountiful rays of the sun turned allthe flowers and fruit to colour and sweetness in her garden. Sourlooks, stiff manners, and peevish remarks seemed out of place, and asimpossible on that day as cold winds, a cloudy sky, or unripestrawberries.

  Mrs Solace had her usual luck this year: by the time the day of theparty came, the rain was over and gone, and the sun was shining sobrightly, that clouds and greyness were quite forgotten.

  Philippa had come over from Haughton to go with her cousins; and thechildren, who always thought Aunt Katharine started much too late,begged that they might walk over earlier alone.

  "We want to have a good long time with Becky, you see," said Maisie;"and we shan't be in any one's way."

  When they arrived, therefore, at the door in the long grey wall whichskirted the Manor Farm garden, they felt sure they were the very firstguests, and walked slowly towards the house, expecting to meet Becky atevery turn; for after a whole week at the farm, she surely ought to berunning about as if there were nothing the matter with her!

  But there was no Becky, nor any one else to be seen in the garden. Theflowers and the bees had it all to themselves, and were blooming andbuzzing away as happily as possible, with no one to notice them. Afterthe rain, all the blossoms looked as bright and fresh as though they hadjust put on new clothes to do honour to Mrs Solace's party; and, indeed,they always seemed to enjoy their lives, and to bloom more abundantlyhere than anywhere else.

  Aunt Katharine was proud of her garden, and took a great deal of painsto make her flowers do well; but with all her best efforts, they did notflourish like these, and yet there was so little trouble taken aboutthem. They grew very much how they would and where they would. Whenthey got too thick, they were weeded out; and when one sort died, it wasrenewed in exactly the same place year after year. Some which were leftentirely to their own way, like the snapdragons, seemed to thrive bestof all. These thrust themselves into the crevices of the old wall,waved in triumph along the top of it, and had sown themselvesindustriously at the sides of the garden paths, reaching out theirvelvety, glowing mouths from the most unexpected places, for thedusty-legged humble bees to dive into.

  Certainly the bees had a fine time of it in the Manor garden, and plentyof sweetness to choose from, amongst the herbs, roses, and pinks whichwere mixed up together with the vegetables. These were separated by awall from the lawn and flower-garden, and when the farmhouse came inview, the children saw that they were not the first visitors after all,for there were figures moving about under the deep veranda, and soonthey were able to make out Becky sitting in a big wicker-chair with acushion at her back.

  "And she's got on my pink sun-bonnet that Aunt Katharine sent her," saidMaisie.

  All the way along they had been talking of Becky, and felt that they hada great deal to ask her about her journey, and what she thought of theManor Farm; but now that they were here, and had shaken hands with her,a sudden silence fell on them all. Somehow Becky in her newsurroundings struck them as a sort of stranger, and they stood roundher, looking shyly at each other, without finding anything to say. Thisdid not suit Philippa.

  "Come and show me where the strawberry beds are," she said to Dennis,and when they had run away together, Maisie drew up a chair and sat downby Becky's side.

  "How do you like being here?" she asked.

  Becky had a faint tinge of colour in her face now, like a China rosewashed in the rain; her dark eyes looked brighter, and when she smiled,something that would soon be a dimple showed in her cheek.

  "Very well, thank you," she answered. "I can walk a bit now. Thismorning I walked as far as yonder rose-bush, and to-morrow I'm goin' totry and get up to the big tree."

  "Very well" might have sounded faint praise for the Manor Farm tounaccustomed ears; but Maisie knew that the country-people used the termto express the very highest satisfaction, so she was quite content.

  From their snug corner under the shady veranda, the children watched thearrival of the guests, as they came out of the house in twos and threes,and moved into the bright sunshine on the lawn.

  "It's like looking at a peep-show or a magic-lantern," said Maisie;"we're in the shadow and they're in the light. Now I'll tell you whothey are. Here's Mrs Broadbent and Emmeline and Lilian."

  Mrs Broadbent and her two daughters stopped on their way to make manyexcuses for the absence of Mr Broadbent.

  "He's such a one, Mr Solace, for sticking to his work; isn't he, girls?I said this morning, `Now do take a little rest, papa, this afternoon,and leave things to your bailiff for once.' But no. `The master'seye,' he says, `does more work than both his hands.'"

  "Well, he's in the right there," said Mr Solace good-humouredly.

  "That's little Miss Chester, isn't it?" she went on, her sharp eyecatching sight of the children, "and her cousin, Miss Trevor? Howdelicate she looks, poor child!" She nodded and smiled graciously.

  "No, that's not Miss Trevor," replied Mr Solace; "that's mywheelwright's little girl. She's been ill, and she's stopping here forchange of air. My wife's going to nurse her up a bit."

  "So _odd_!" remarked Mrs Broadbent, as she and her daughters moved oninto the garden. "I really do think Mrs Solace might draw the line_somewhere_."

  "There's Mr Hurst," continued Maisie; "he's our vicar, you know; and thelittle lady with white hair and a big hat is his sister, who lives withhim. And he's talking to your doctor, Dr Price. I wish he was ourdoctor, but we're never ill, so it doesn't matter much. I like DrPrice, ever since he told me about the kitten, only I wish he wouldn'tkeep such cruel dogs. Where _is_ the kitten? Didn't you bring her?"

  There was a little lump on Becky's knees covered up by her pinafore.She lifted a corner of it, and showed the grey kitten snugly asleep,curled up like a ball.

  "I was afraid so many strange folk would scare her," she said.

  The garden was soon full of the sound of voices and laughter, and alivewith many-coloured figures. Preparations for tea began to appear in theveranda, and presently Dennis and Philippa came slowly back with heatedfaces, each bearing a cabbage-leaf full of strawberries.

  "Philippa will say that they have bigger ones at Haughton," said Dennis;"so I was determined to find the very biggest I could. Now just lookhere, Philippa!" He spread out his cabbage-leaf exultingly. "The ManorFarm's _famous_ for its strawberries; there's nothing like them formiles round. Yours at Haughton are all very well, but the very largestwould be squinny beside these."

  Philippa had plenty to say on the subject as usual, and she carried on alively dispute with Dennis as to the merits of the strawberries, untilthe child
ren's tea was brought out, and placed on a little table all tothemselves.

  During their meal, they could watch the other guests, who came in andout from the garden to rest from the glare of the sun, or to taste thestrawberries and cream and other good things provided for them. Theyall talked and laughed a great deal, and their talk was almost entirelyabout strawberries and cream. One preferred strawberries alone; anotherconsidered cream such a great improvement; a third found the mixtureunwholesome, but the fruit alone, beneficial. Lilian Broadbentsauntered in, very much overcome with the heat, and threw herselflanguidly into the wicker-chair which an attentive young farmer hastenedto bring.

  "That is the one they want her to marry," whispered Dennis, who knewevery one's affairs.

  Would she have some strawberries? With or without cream? Did she takesugar? Would she have them prepared for her? After a careless assenthad been given to all these questions, Miss Broadbent thought that onthe whole strawberries tasted better picked for one's self, only thevery thought of stooping in the sun made her head ache. While heradmirer suggested ways of overcoming this difficulty, Aunt Katharine andMr Solace came in, and talked gravely of crops, and then the portlyfigures of Mrs Solace and Dr Price approached, and stopped to look atthe little party of children.

  "Your patient does you credit, Mrs Solace," said the doctor. "She looksbetter already. She'll soon be out of my hands, if she goes on at thisrate."

  Mrs Solace smiled at Becky with the same sort of comfortable pride aswhen she looked at a remarkably fine brood of turkeys.

  "She's picking up a bit," she said; "but it's early days yet. We'll seehow she looks after she's been here a month. I shouldn't wonder if shegets as hearty as Miss Maisie yonder.--Have you told Miss Maisie, Becky,what we're going to make of you, when you get quite strong and well?"

  Becky looked shyly down at her plate. It was impossible to answer withso many people waiting to hear.

  "Well, well, she'll tell you presently, I daresay," said Mrs Solace, asshe moved away with Dr Price's huge figure plunging along beside her.

  "What did Mrs Solace mean?" asked Maisie eagerly, when they were out ofhearing.

  "It's about the chickens," said Becky. "I like 'em ever so much, andMrs Solace said this morning that some day she'd ask mother to let mecome and bide here and look after 'em; but I've got to get strong, andgrow a bit first."

  "Well!" exclaimed Dennis enviously, "you _are_ in luck!"

  "I should earn wages, like Dan," said Becky.

  "I only wish I had the chance of working on the farm," said Dennis; "butAunt Katharine says I must go to school, and all sorts of things,first."

  "What would you like to be, if you could?" asked Philippa.

  Dennis mashed up his strawberries thoughtfully.

  "Wheelwright _best_," he answered; "only that wouldn't have anything todo with the animals. I should like to be the pig-man very well; butit's no use saying what I should like, because I shan't have thechance."

  "How nice it will be," said Maisie to Becky, as she set a saucer ofcream carefully on the ground for the kitten, "when you and the greykitten are settled here. Isn't it odd that she should have the verybest home of the three, after all? We never thought it would turn outso."

  "And she was the meanest and smallest of all the kittens," said Dennis.

  "But," added Maisie, "Philippa and I have quite settled that she's thenicest of them, because she's been the greatest comfort."

  And now, while the sun shines, and there are happy voices and smiles allaround, it is a good moment for us to say farewell to Dennis and Maisie,Philippa and Becky, and to wish them prosperity. We have seen a littlepart of their lives, and can only guess what shall befall them further;but we know that life cannot be all sunshine and strawberry parties, andthat grey skies and dull moments will come to each as time goes on. Thebest thing we can wish for them, therefore, is that they may be happywhether the sun shines or the rain falls in their way through the world:and this they can surely be, if their hearts are warm and their handsare willing to love and serve others, both in sadness and joy.

  THE END.