White Lilac, by Amy Walton________________________________________________________________Mrs White had had several children before the birth of this one, butthey had all died. This makes her quite determined to make sure thatthis one survives. She was telling a visitor that she thought ofcalling the baby Annie, in honour of the visitor, but she had just beensaying how much she loved white lilacs, and her husband had brought abranch of it over from a nearby village. So the visitor said, call herLilac White, as there were already too many Annie Whites in the village. Unfortunately the father dies shortly after, and the mother has to bringthe child up on her own. 

Now she is twelve, and a pretty child. A visiting artist asks if he mayput her in one of his pictures. Lilac goes off with her cousin Agnetta, who believes she needs a new hair-do. Needless to say, the result isnot attractive to the artist, who now refuses to put her in the picture. 

Other characters in the story are Uncle Joshua, who is a good andwell-loved man, and Peter, probably in his late teens, who is a farmworker, well-intentioned but clumsy. A big event in the village is MayDay, and there is rivalry among the girls about which of them shall beQueen of the May. It is Lilac. Yet that very day her mother is takenill and dies. She is taken to their home by a farmer and his wife, andtaught the dairymaid arts such as butter and cheese making. In thosedays a girl such as Lilac would hope to be taken into domestic serviceand trained up to such high levels as house-keeper or cook. Lilac hassome opportunities--will she or won't she take them up? A lovely bookthat takes us back to long-gone days in the pastoral England of the1850s. NH________________________________________________________________

WHITE LILAC, BY AMY WALTON

CHAPTER ONE. 

A BUNCH OF LILAC. 

 "What's in a name?"--_Shakespeare_. 

Mrs James White stood at her cottage door casting anxious glances up atthe sky, and down the hill towards the village. If it were fine therector's wife had promised to come and see the baby, "and certainly, "thought Mrs White, shading her eyes with her hand, "you might call itfine--for April. " There were sharp showers now and then, to be sure, but the sun shone between whiles, and sudden rays darted through herlittle window strong enough to light up the whole room. Their searchingglances disclosed nothing she was ashamed of, for they showed that thekitchen was neat and well ordered, with bits of good substantialfurniture in it, such as a long-bodied clock, table, and dresser of darkoak. These polished surfaces smiled back again cheerfully as the lighttouched them, and the row of pewter plates on the high mantelshelfglistened so brightly that they were as good as so many little mirrors. But beside these useful objects the sunlight found out two other thingsin the room, at which it pointed its bright finger with specialinterest. One of these was a large bunch of pure white lilac whichstood on the window sill in a brown mug, and the other was a wickercradle in which lay something very much covered up in blankets. After alast lingering look down the hill, where no one was in sight, Mrs Whiteshut her door and settled herself to work, with the lilac at her elbow, and the cradle at her foot. She rocked this gently while she sewed, andturned her head now and then, when her needle wanted threading, to smellthe delicate fragrance of the flowers. Her face was grave, with apatient and rather sad expression, as though her memories were not allhappy ones; but by degrees, as she sat there working and rocking, somepleasant thought brought a smile to her lips and softened her eyes. This became so absorbing that presently she did not see a figure passthe window, and when a knock at the door followed, she sprang upstartled to open it for her expected visitor. 

"I'd most given you up, ma'am, " she said as the lady entered, "but I'mvery glad to see you. "

It was not want of cordiality but want of breath which caused a beamingsmile to be the only reply to this welcome. The hill was steep, the daywas mild, and Mrs Leigh was rather stout. She at once dropped with asigh of relief, but still smiling, into a chair, and cast a glance fullof interest at the cradle, which Mrs White understood as well as words. Bending over it she peeped cautiously in amongst the folds of flannel. 

"She's so fast, it's a sin to take her up, ma'am, " she murmured, "but I_would_ like you to see her. "

Mrs Leigh had now recovered her power of speech. "Don't disturb herfor the world, " she said, "I'm not going away yet. I shall be glad torest a little. She'll wake presently, I dare say. What is it, " shecontinued, looking round the room, "that smells so delicious? Oh, whatlovely lilac!" as her eye rested on the flowers in the window. 

Mrs White had taken up her sewing again. 

"I always liked the laylocks myself, ma'am, " she said, "partic'ler thewhite ones. It were a common bush in the part I lived as a gal, butthere's not much hereabouts. "

"Where did you get it?" asked Mrs Leigh, leaning forward to smell thepure-white blossoms; "I thought there was only the blue in the village. "

"Why, no more there is, " said Mrs White with a half-ashamed smile; "butJem, he knows I'm a bit silly over them, and he got 'em at Cuddinghamt'other day. You see, the day I said I'd marry him he gave me a bunchof white laylocks--and that's ten years ago. Sitting still so much morethan I'm used lately, with the baby, puts all sorts of foolishness intomy head, and when you knocked just now it gave me quite a start, for thesmell of the laylocks took me right back to the days when we weresweetheartin'. "

"How _is_ Jem?" asked Mrs Leigh, glancing at a gun which stood in thechimney corner. 

"He's _well_, ma'am, thank you, but out early and home late. There'sbin poaching in the woods lately, and the keepers have a lot of troublewith 'em. "

"None of _our_ people, I _hope_?" said the rector's wife anxiously. 

"Oh dear, no, ma'am! A gipsy lot--a cruel wild set, to be sure, fromwhat Jem says, and fight desperate. "

There was a stir amongst the blankets in the cradle just then, andpresently a little cry. The baby was _awake_. Very soon she was inMrs Leigh's arms, who examined the tiny face with great interest, whilethe mother stood by, silent, but eager for the first expression ofadmiration. 

"What a beautifully fair child!" exclaimed Mrs Leigh. 

"Everyone says that as sees her, " said Mrs White with quiet triumph. "She features my mother's family--they all had such wonderful whiteskins. But, " anxiously, "you don't think she looks weakly, do you, ma'am?"

"Oh, no, " answered Mrs Leigh in rather a doubtful tone. She stood upand weighed the child in her arms, moving nearer the window. "She's alittle thing, but I dare say she's not the less strong for that. "

"It makes me naturally a bit fearsome over her, " said Mrs White; "for, as you know, ma'am, I've buried three children since we've bin here. Ne'er a one of 'em all left me. It seems when I look at this little unas how I _must_ keep her. I don't seem as if I _could_ let her go too. "

"Oh, she'll grow up and be a comfort to you, I don't doubt, " said MrsLeigh cheerfully. "Fair-complexioned children are very oftenwonderfully healthy and strong. But really, " she continued, lookingclosely at the baby's face, "I never saw such a skin in my life. Why, she's as white as milk, or snow, or a lily, or--" She paused for acomparison, and suddenly added, as her eye fell on the flowers, "or thatbunch of lilac. "

"You're right, ma'am, " agreed Mrs White with a smile of intensegratification. 

"And if I were you, " continued Mrs Leigh, her good-natured face beamingall over with a happy idea, "I should call her `Lilac'. That would be abeautiful name for her. Lilac White. Nothing could be better; it seemsmade for her. "

Mrs White's expression changed to one of grave doubt. 

"It do _seem_ as how it would fit her, " she said; "but that's not aChristian name, is it, ma'am?"

"Well, it would make it one if you had her christened so, you see. "

"I was thinking of making so bold as to call her `Annie', and to ask youto stand for her, ma'am. "

"And so I will, with pleasure. But don't call her Annie; we've got somany Annies in the parish already it's quite confusing--and so manyWhites too. We should have to say `Annie White on the hill' every timewe spoke of her. I'm always mixing them up as it is. _Don't_ call herAnnie, Mrs White, Lilac's far better. Ask your husband what he thinksof it. "

"Oh! Jem, he'll think as I do, ma'am, " said Mrs White at once; "itisn't _Jem_. "

"Who is it, then? If you both like the name it can't matter to anyoneelse. "

"Well, ma'am, " said Mrs White hesitatingly, as she took her child fromMrs Leigh, and rocked it gently in her arms, "they'll all say downbelow in the village, as how it's a fancy sort of a name, and maybe whenshe grows up they'll laugh at her for it. I shouldn't like to feel ashow I'd given her a name to be made game of. "

But Mrs Leigh was much too pleased with her fancy to give it up, andshe smilingly overcame this objection and all others. It was a pretty, simple, and modest-sounding name, she said, with nothing in it thatcould be made laughable. It was short to say, and above all it had theadvantage of being uncommon; as it was, so many mothers had desired thehonour of naming their daughters after the rector's wife, that thenumber of "Annies" was overwhelming, but there certainly would not betwo "Lilac Whites" in the village. In short, as Mrs White told Jemthat evening, Mrs Leigh was "that set" on the name that she had to givein to her. And so it was settled; and wonderfully soon afterwards itwas rumoured in the village that Mrs James White on the hill meant tocall her baby "Lilac. "

This could not matter to anyone else, Mrs Leigh had said, but she wasmistaken. Every mother in the parish had her opinion to offer, forthere were not so many things happening, that even the very smallestcould be passed over without a proper amount of discussion whenneighbours met. On the whole they were not favourable opinions. It wasfelt that Mrs White, who had always held herself high and been severeon the follies of her friends, had now in her turn laid herself open toremark by choosing an outlandish and fanciful name for her child. Lilies, Roses, and even Violets were not unknown in Danecross, but whohad ever heard of Lilac?

Mrs Greenways said so, and she had a right to speak, not only becauseshe lived at Orchards Farm, which was the biggest in the parish, butbecause her husband was Mrs White's brother. She said it at all timesand in all places, but chiefly at "Dimbleby's", for if you dropped inthere late in the afternoon you were pretty sure to find acquaintances, eager to hear and tell news; and this was specially the case onSaturday, which was shopping day. 

Dimbleby's was quite a large shop, and a very important one, for therewas no other in the village; it was rather dark, partly because the roofwas low-pitched, and partly because of the wonderful number and varietyof articles crammed into it, so that it would have puzzled anyone tofind out what Dimbleby did not sell. The air was also a little thick tobreathe, for there floated in it a strange mixture, made up ofunbleached calico, corduroy, smockfrocks, boots, and bacon. All thesearticles and many others were to be seen piled up on shelves orcounters, or dangling from the low beams overhead; and, lately, therehad been added to the stock a number of small clocks, stowed away out ofsight. Their hasty ceaseless little voices sounded in curious contrastto the slowness of things in general at Dimbleby's: "Tick-tack, tick-tack, --Time flies, time flies", they seemed to be saying over andover again. Without effect, for at Dimbleby's time never flew; heplodded along on dull and heavy feet, and if he had wings at all hedragged them on the ground. You had only to look at the face of themaster of the shop to see that speed was impossible to him, and that hewas justly known as the slowest man in the parish both in speech andaction. This was hardly considered a failing, however, for it had itsadvantages in shopping; if he was slow himself, he was quite willingthat others should be so too, and to stand in unmoved calm while MrsJones fingered a material to test its quality, or Mrs Wilson made upher mind between a spot and a sprig. It was therefore a splendid placefor a bit of talk, for he was so long in serving, and his customers wereso long in choosing, that there was an agreeable absence of pressure, and time to drink a cup of gossip down to its last drop of interest. 

"I don't understand myself what Mary White would be at, " said MrsGreenways. 

She stood waiting in the shop while Dimbleby thoughtfully weighed outsome sugar for her; a stout woman with a round good-natured face, framedin a purple-velvet bonnet and nodding flowers; her long mantle matchedthe bonnet in stylishness, and was richly trimmed with imitation fur, but the large strong basket on her arm, already partly full of parcels, was quite out of keeping with this splendid attire. The two women whostood near, listening with eager respect to her remarks, were of verydifferent appearance; their poor thin shawls were put on without anyregard for fashion, and their straight cotton dresses were short enoughto show their clumsy boots, splashed with mud from the miry countrylanes. The edge of Mrs Greenways' gown was also draggled and dirty, for she had not found it easy to hold it up and carry a large basket atthe same time. 

"I thought, " she went on, "as how Mary White was all for plain names, and homely ways, and such-like. "

"She _do say_ so, " said the woman nearest to her, cautiously. 

"Then, as I said to Greenways this morning, `It's not a consistent actfor your sister to name her child like that. Accordin' to her you oughtto have names as simple and common as may be. ' Why, think of what shesaid when I named my last, which is just a year ago. `And what do youthink of callin' her?' says she. `Why, ' says I, `I think of giving herthe name of Agnetta. ' `Dear me!' says she; `whyever do you give yourgirls such fine names? There's your two eldest, Isabella and Augusta;I'd call this one Betsy, or Jane, or Sarah, or something easy to say, and suitable. '"

"_Did_ she, now?" said both the listeners at once. 

"And it's not only that, " continued Mrs Greenways with a growing soundof injury in her voice, "but she's always on at me when she gets achance about the way I bring my girls up. `You'd a deal better teachher to make good butter, ' says she, when I told her that Bella waslearning the piano. And when I showed her that screen Gusta worked--lilies on blue satting, a re'lly elegant thing--she just turned her headand says, `I'd rather, if she were a gal of mine, see her knit her ownstockings. ' Those were her words, Mrs Wishing. "

"Ah, well, it's easy to talk, " replied Mrs Wishing soothingly, "we'llbe able to see how she'll bring up a daughter of her own now. "

"I'm not saying, " pursued Mrs Greenways, turning a watchful eye on MrDimbleby's movements, "that Mary White haven't a perfect right to nameher child as she chooses. I'm too fair for that, I _hope_. What I dosay is, that now she's picked up a fancy sort of name like Lilac, shehasn't got any call to be down on other people. And if me and Greenwayslikes to see our girls genteel and give 'em a bit of finishingeddication, and set 'em off with a few accomplishments, it's our ownaffair and not Mary White's. And though I say it as shouldn't, youwon't find two more elegant gals than Gusta and Bella, choose where youmay. "

During the last part of her speech Mrs Greenways had been poking andsqueezing her parcel of sugar into its appointed corner of her basket;as she finished she settled it on her arm, clutched at her gown with theother hand, and prepared to start. 

"And now, as I'm in a hurry, I'll say good night, Mrs Pinhorn and MrsWishing, and good night to you, Mr Dimbleby. "

She rolled herself and her burden through the narrow door of the shop, and for a moment no one spoke, while all the little clocks ticked awaymore busily than ever. 

"She's got enough to carry, " said Mrs Pinhorn, breaking silence atlast, with a sideway nod at her neighbour. 

"She have _so_, " agreed Mrs Wishing mildly; "and I wonder, that I do, to see her carrying that heavy basket on foot--she as used to come inher spring cart. "

Mrs Pinhorn pressed her lips together before answering, then she saidwith meaning: "They're short of hands just now at Orchards Farm, andmaybe short of horses too. "

"You don't say so!" said Mrs Wishing, drawing nearer. 

"My Ben works there, as you know, and he says money's scarce there, veryscarce indeed. One of the men got turned off only t'other day. "

"Lor', now, to think of that!" exclaimed Mrs Wishing in an awed manner. "An' her in that bonnet an' all them artificials!"

"There's a deal, " continued Mrs Pinhorn, "in what Mrs White says aboutthem two Greenways gals with their fine-lady ways. It 'ud a been betterto bring 'em up handy in the house so as to help their mother. As itis, they're too finnicking to be a bit of use. You wouldn't see eitherof _them_ with a basket on their arm, they'd think it loweringthemselves. And I dare say the youngest 'll grow up just like 'em. "

"There's a deal in what Mrs Greenways's just been saying too, " remarkedthe woman called Mrs Wishing in a hesitating voice, "for Mrs JamesWhite _is_ a very strict woman and holds herself high, and `Lilac' is afanciful kind of a name; but _I_ dunno. " She broke off as if feelingincapable of dealing with the question. 

"I can't wonder myself, " resumed Mrs Pinhorn, "at Mrs Greenways beinga bit touchy. You heard, I s'pose, what Mrs White up and said to heronce? You didn't? Well, she said, `You can't make a silk purse out ofa sow's ear, and you'll never make them girls ladies, try all you will, 'says she. `Useless things you'll make 'em, fit for neither one stationor t'other. '"

"That there's plain speaking!" said Mrs Wishing admiringly. 

Mr Dimbleby had not uttered a word during this conversation, and was toall appearance entirely occupied in weighing out, tying up parcels, andreceiving orders. In reality, however, he had not lost a word of it, and had been getting ready to speak for some time past. Neither of thewomen, who were well acquainted with him, was at all surprised when hesuddenly remarked: "It were Mrs Leigh herself as had to do with thename of Mrs James White's baby. "

"Re'lly, now?" said Mrs Wishing doubtfully. 

"An' it were Mrs Leigh herself as I heard it from, " continued Dimblebyponderously, without noticing the interruption. 

"Well, that makes a difference, don't it now?" said Mrs Pinhorn. "Whyever didn't you name that afore, Mr Dimbleby?"

"And, " added Dimbleby, grinding on to the end of his speech regardlessof hindrance, like a machine that has been wound up; "and Mrs Leighherself is goin' to stand for the baby. "

"Lor'! I do wish Mrs Greenways could a heard that, " said Mrs Pinhorn;"that'll set Mrs White up more than ever. "

"It will so, " said Mrs Wishing; "she allers did keep herself _to_herself did Mrs White. Not but what she's a decent woman and a kind. Seems as how, if Mrs Leigh wished to name the child `Lilac', shecouldn't do no other than fall in with it. But _I_ dunno. "

"And how does the name strike you, Mr Snell?" said Mrs Pinhorn, turning to a newcomer. 

He was an oldish man, short and broad-shouldered, with a large head andserious grey eyes. Not only his leather apron, but the ends of hisstumpy fingers, which were discoloured and brown, showed that he was acobbler by trade. When Mrs Pinhorn spoke to him, he fingered his cheekthoughtfully, took off his hat, and passed his hand over his high baldforehead. 

"What name may you be alludin' to, ma'am?" he enquired very politely. 

"The name `Lilac' as Mrs James White's goin' to call her child. "

"Lilac--eh! Lilac White. White Lilac, " repeated the cobbler musingly. "Well, ma'am, 'tis a pleasant bush and a homely; I can't wish the maidno better than to grow up like her name. "

"Why, you wouldn't for sure wish her to grow up homely, would you now, Mr Snell?" said Mrs Wishing with a feeble laugh. 

"I _would_, ma'am, " replied Mr Snell, turning rather a severe eye uponthe questioner, "I _would_. For why? Because to be homely is to makethe common things of home sweet and pleasant. She can't do no betterthan that. "

Mrs Wishing shrank silenced into the background, like one who has beenreproved, and the cobbler advanced to the counter to exchange greetingswith Mr Dimbleby, and buy tobacco. The women's voices, the sharpticking of the clocks, and the deeper tones of the men kept up a steadyconcert for some time undisturbed. But suddenly the door was thrownviolently back on its hinges with a bang, and a tall man in labourer'sclothes rushed into their midst. Everyone looked up startled, and onMrs Wishing's face there was fear as well as surprise when sherecognised the newcomer. 

"Why, Dan'l, my man, " she exclaimed, "what is it?"

Daniel was out of breath with running. He rubbed his forehead with ared pocket handkerchief, looked round in a dazed manner at the assembledgroup, and at length said hoarsely: "Mrs Greenways bin here?"

"Ah, just gone!" said both the women at once. 

"There's trouble up yonder--on the hill, " said Daniel, pointing with histhumb over his shoulder, and speaking in a strange, broken voice. 

"Mary White's baby!" exclaimed Mrs Pinhorn. 

"Fits!" added Mrs Wishing; "they all went off that way. "

"Hang the baby, " muttered Daniel. He made his way past the women, whohad pressed up close to him, to where the cobbler and Dimbleby stood. 

"I've fetched the doctor, " he said, "and she wants the Greenways to knowit; I thought maybe she'd be here. "

"What is it? Who's ill?" asked the cobbler. 

"Tain't anyone that's ill, " answered Daniel; "he's stone dead. Theyshot him right through the heart. "

"Who? Who?" cried all the voices together. 

"I found him, " continued Daniel, "up in the woods; partly covered upwith leaves he was. Smiling peaceful and stone dead. He was always abrave feller and done his dooty, did James White on the hill. But hewon't never do it no more. "

"Poachers!" exclaimed Dimbleby in a horror-struck voice. 

"Poachers it was, sure enough, " said Daniel; "an' he's stone dead, JamesWhite is. They shot him right through the heart. Seems a pity such abrave chap should die like that. "

"An' him such a good husband!" said Mrs Wishing. "An' the baby an' allas we was just talking on, " said Mrs Pinhorn; "well, it's a fatherlesschild now, anyway. "

"The family ought to allow the widder a pension, " said Mr Dimbleby, "seeing as James White died in their service, so to speak. "

"They couldn't do no less, " agreed the cobbler. 

The idea of fetching Mrs Greenways seemed to have left Daniel's mindfor the present: he had now taken a chair, and was engaged in answeringthe questions with which he was plied on all sides, and in trying to fixthe exact hour when he had found poor James White in the woods. "As itmight be here, and me standing as it might be there, " he said, illustrating his words with the different parcels on the counter beforehim. It was not until all this was thoroughly understood, and everyimaginable expression of pity and surprise had been uttered, that MrsPinhorn remembered that the "Greenways ought to know. And I don't seewhy, " she added, seizing her basket with sudden energy, "I shouldn'ttake her up myself; I'm goin' that way, and she's a slow traveller. "

"An' then Dan'l can go straight up home with me, " said Mrs Wishing, "and we can drop in as we pass an' see Mrs White, poor soul. Shehadn't ought to be alone. "

Before nightfall everyone knew the sad tidings. James White had beenshot by poachers, and Daniel Wishing had found him lying dead in thewoods. 

As the days went on, the excitement which stirred the whole villageincreased rather than lessened, for not even the oldest inhabitant couldremember such a tragical event. Apart from the sadness of it, and thedesolate condition of the widow, poor Jem's many virtues made itimpressive and lamentable. Everyone had something to say in his praise, no one remembered anything but good about him; he was a brave chap, andone of the right sort, said the men, when they talked of it in thepublic-house; he was a good husband, said the women, steady and sober, fond of his wife, a pattern to others. They shook their heads andsighed mournfully; it was strange as well as pitiful that Jem Whiteshould a been took. "There might a been _some_ as we could mention aswouldn't a been so much missed. "

Then came the funeral; the bunch of white lilac, still fresh, which hehad brought from Cuddingham, was put on Jem's newly-made grave, and hiswidow, passing silently through the people gathered in the churchyard, toiled patiently back to her lonely home. 

They watched the solitary figure as it showed black against the steepchalky road in the distance. 

"Yon's an afflicted woman, " said one, "for all she carries herself sohigh under it. "

"She's the only widder among all the Whites hereabouts, " remarked MrsPinhorn. "We needn't call her `Mrs White on the hill' no longer, poorsoul. "

"It's a mercy she's got the child, " said another neighbour, "if the Lordspares it to her. "

"The christening's to be on Sunday, " added a third. "I do wonder ifshe'll call it that outlandish name _now_. "

There was not much time to wonder, for Sunday soon came, and the WidowWhite, as she was to be called henceforth, was at the church, stern, sad, and calm, with her child in her arms. It was an April morning, breezy and soft; the uncertain sunshine darted hither and thither, nowtouching the newly turned earth of Jem's grave, and now peering throughthe church window to rest on the tiny face of his little daughter in therector's arms at the font. All the village had come to see, for thischristening was felt to be one of more than common interest, and whilethe service went on there was not one inattentive ear. 

Foremost stood Mrs Greenways, her white handkerchief displayed forimmediate use, and the expression in her face struggling between realcompassion and an eager desire to lose nothing that was passing;presently she craned her neck forward a little, for an important pointwas reached--

"Name this child, " said the rector. 

There was such deep silence in the church that the lowest whisper wouldhave been audible, and Mrs Leigh's voice was heard distinctly in thefarthest corner, when she answered "Lilac. "

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"Not that it matters, " said Mrs Greenways on her way home afterwards, "what they call the poor little thing--Lilac White, or White Lilac, orwhat you will, for she'll never rear it, never. It'll follow its fatherbefore we're any of us much older. You mark my words, Greenways: I'mnot the woman to discourage Mary White by naming it to her now she's sodeep in trouble, but you mark my words, she'll _never_ rear that child. "

CHAPTER TWO. 

THE COUSINS. 

 "For the apparel oft proclaims the man. "--Shakespeare. 

But Mrs Greenways was wrong. Twelve more springs came and went, coldwinds blew round the cottage on the hill, winter snow covered it, summersun blazed down on its unsheltered roof, but the small blossom withingrew and flourished. A weak tender-looking little plant at first, butgathering strength with the years until it became hardy and bold, fit toface rough weather as well as to smile in the sunshine. 

It was twelve years since James White's death, twelve years since he hadbrought the bunch of lilac from Cuddingham which had given his littledaughter her name--that name which had once sounded so strangely in MrsWhite's ears. It had come to mean so much to her now, so many memoriesof the past, so much sweetness in the present, that she would not havechanged it for the world, and indeed no one questioned its fitness, foras time went on it seemed to belong naturally to the child; it was evenmade more expressive by putting the surname first, so that she was oftencalled "White Lilac. "

For the distinguishing character of her face was its whiteness--"Awonderful white skin", as her mother had said, which did not tan, orfreckle, or flush with heat, and which shone out in startling contrastamongst the red and brown cheeks of her school companions. This smallwhite face was set upon a slender neck, and a delicately-formed butupright little figure, which looked all the straighter and more like thestalk of a flower, because it was never adorned with any flounces orfurbelows. Lilac was considered in the village to be very old-fashionedin her dress; she wore cotton frocks, plain in the skirt with gathersall round the waist, long pinafores or aprons, and sunbonnets. Thisattire was always spotless and freshly clean, but garments of such ashape and cut were lamentably wanting in fashion to the general eye, andwere the subject of constant ridicule. Not in the hearing of the widow, for most people were a good deal in awe of her, but Lilac herself heardquite enough about her clothes to be conscious of them and to feelashamed of looking "different. " And this was specially the case atschool, for there she met Agnetta Greenways every day, and Agnetta wasthe object of her highest admiration; to be like her in some way was thedeep and secret longing in her mind. It was, she knew well, a uselessambition, but she could not help desiring it, Agnetta was such abeautiful object to look upon, with her red cheeks and the heavy fringeof black hair which rested in a lump on her forehead. On Sundays, whenshe wore her blue dress richly trimmed with plush, a long feather in herhat, and a silver bangle on her arm, Lilac could hardly keep her intenseadmiration silent; it was a pain not to speak of it, and yet she knewthat nothing would have displeased her mother so much, who was neverwilling to hear the Greenways praised. So she only gazed wistfully ather cousin's square gaily-dressed figure, and felt herself a poorwashed-out insignificant child in comparison. 

This was very much Agnetta's own view of the case; but neverthelessthere were occasions when she was glad of this insignificant creature'sassistance, for she was slow and stupid at her lessons, books were griefand pain to her, and Lilac, who was intelligent and fond of learning, was always ready to help and explain. This service, given mostwillingly, was received by Agnetta as one to whom it was due, and indeedthe position she held among her schoolfellows made most of them eager tocall her friend. She lived at Orchards Farm, which was the biggest inthe parish; her two elder sisters had been to a finishing school, andone of them was now in a millinery establishment in London, where shewore a silk dress every day. This was sufficient to excuse airs ofsuperiority in anyone. It was natural, therefore, to repay Lilac'sdevotion by condescending patronage, and to look down on her from agreat height; nevertheless it was extremely agreeable to Agnetta to beworshipped, and this made her seek her cousin's companionship, andinvite her often to Orchards Farm. There she could display her smartfrocks, dwell on the extent of her father's possessions, on her sisterBella's stylishness, on the last fashion Gusta had sent from London, while Lilac, meek and admiring, stood by with wonder in her eyes. Orchards Farm was the most beautiful place her imagination couldpicture, and to live there must be, she thought, perfect happiness. There was a largeness about it, with its blossoming fruit trees, itsbroad green meadows, its barns and stacks, its flocks of sheep and herdsof cattle; even the shiny-leaved magnolia which covered part of thehouse seemed to Lilac to speak of peace and plenty. It was all sodifferent from her home; the bare white cottage on the hillside where notrees grew, where all was so narrow and cold, and where life seemed tobe made up of scrubbing, sweeping, and washing. She looked longinglydown from this sometimes to the valley where the farm stood. 

But other eyes, and Mrs White's in particular, saw a very differentstate of things when they looked at Orchards Farm. She knew that underthis smiling outside face lay hidden care and anxiety; for her brother, Farmer Greenways, was in debt and short of money. Folks shook theirheads when it was mentioned, and said: "What could you expect?" The oldpeople remembered the prosperous days at the farm, when the dairy hadbeen properly worked, and the butter was the best you could get anywhereround. There was the pasture land still, and a good lot of cows, butsince the Greenways had come there the supply of butter was poor, andsometimes the whole quantity sent to market was so carelessly made thatit was sour. Whose fault was it? Mrs Greenways would have said thatMolly, the one overworked maid servant, was to blame; but other peoplethought differently, and Mrs White was as usual outspoken in heropinions to her sister-in-law: "It 'ull never be any different as longas you don't look after the dairy yourself, or teach Bella to do it. What does Molly care how the butter turns out?"

But Bella tossed her head at the idea of working, as she expressed it, "like a common servant", or indeed at working at all. She consideredthat her business in life was to be genteel, and to be properly genteelwas to do nothing useful. So she studied the fashion books which Gustasent from London, made up wonderful costumes for herself, curled herhair in the last style, and read the stories about dukes and earls andcountesses which came out in the _Family Herald_. 

The smart bonnets and dresses which Mrs Greenways and her daughterswore on Sundays in spite of hard times and poor crops and debt were thewonder of the whole congregation, and in Mrs White's case the wonderwas mixed with scorn. "Peter's the only one among 'em as is good foranything, " she sometimes said, "an' he's naught but a puzzle-headed sortof a chap. " Peter was the farmer's only son, a loutish youth offifteen, steady and plodding as his plough horses and almost as silent. 

It was April again, bright and breezy, and all the cherry trees at thefarm were so white with bloom that standing under them you couldscarcely see the sky. The grass in the orchard was freshly green andsprinkled with daisies, amongst which families of fluffy yellowducklings trod awkwardly about on their little splay feet, while thecareful mother hens picked out the best morsels of food for them. Thisfood was flung out of a basin by Agnetta Greenways, who stood theresquarely erect uttering a monotonous "Chuck, chuck, chuck, " atintervals. Agnetta did not care for the poultry, or indeed for any ofthe creatures on the farm; they were to her only troublesome things thatwanted looking after, and she would have liked not to have had anythingto do with them. Just now, however, there was a week's holiday at theschool, and she was obliged to use her leisure in helping her mother, much against her will. Agnetta had a stolid face with a great deal ofcolour in her cheeks; her hair was black, but at this hour it was sotightly done up in curl papers that the colour could hardly be seen. She wore an old red merino dress which had once been a smart one, butwas now degraded to what she called "dirty work", and was covered withpatches and stains. Her hands and wrists were very large, and lookedcapable of hard work, as indeed did the whole person of Agnetta from topto toe. 

"Chuck, chuck, chuck, " she repeated as she threw out the last spoonful;then, raising her eyes, she became aware of a little figure in thedistance, running towards her across the field at the bottom of theorchard. 

"Lor'!" she exclaimed aloud, "if here isn't Lilac White!"

It was a slight little figure clothed in a cotton frock which had oncebeen blue in colour, but had been washed so very often that it nowapproached a shade of green; over it was a long straight pinaforegathered round the neck with a string, and below it appeared blueworsted stockings, and thick, laced boots. Her black hair was brushedback and plaited in one long tail tied at the end with black ribbon, andin her hand she carried a big sunbonnet, swinging it round and round inthe air as she ran. As she came nearer the orchard gate, it was easy tosee that she had some news to tell, for her small features worked withexcitement, and her grey eyes were bright with eagerness. 

Agnetta advanced slowly to meet her with the empty basin in her hand, and unlatched the gate. 

"Whatever's the matter?" she asked. 

Lilac could not answer just at first, for she had been running a longway, and her breath came in short gasps. She came to a standstill underthe trees, and Agnetta stared gravely at her with her mouth wide open. The two girls formed a strong contrast to each other. Lilac's whiteface and the faded colour of her dress matched the blossoms and leavesof the cherry trees in their delicacy, while about the red-cheekedAgnetta there was something firm and positive, which suggested the fruitwhich would come later. 

"I came--" gasped Lilac at last, "I ran--I thought I must tell you--"

"Well, " said Agnetta, still staring at her in an unmoved manner, "you'dbetter fetch your breath, and then you'll be able to tell me. Come andsit down. "

There was a bench under one of the trees near where she had been feedingthe ducks. The two girls sat down, and presently Lilac was able to say:"Oh, Agnetta, the artist gentleman wants to put me in a picture!"

"Whatever do you mean, Lilac White?" was Agnetta's only reply. Herslightly disapproving voice calmed Lilac's excitement a little. 

"This is how it was, " she continued more quietly. "You know he'slodging at the `Three Bells?' and he comes an' sits at the bottom of ourhill an' paints all day. "

"Of course I know, " said Agnetta. "It's a poor sort of an object he'scopyin', too--Old Joe's tumble-down cottage. I peeped over his shouldert'other day--'taint much like. "

"Well, I pass him every day comin' from school, and he always looks upat me eager without sayin' nothing. But this morning he says, `Littlegal, ' says he, `I want to put you into my picture. '"

"Lor'!" put in Agnetta, "whatever can he want to paint _you_ for?"

"So I didn't say nothing, " continued Lilac, "because he looked so hardat me that I was skeert-like. So then he says very impatient, `Don'tyou understand? I want you to come here in that frock and that bonnetin your hand, and let me paint you, copy you, take your portrait. Yourun and ask Mother. '"

"I never did!" exclaimed Agnetta, moved at last. "Whatever can he wantto do it for? An' that frock, an' that silly bonnet an' all! He mustbe a crazy gentleman, I should say. " She gave a short laugh, partly ofvexation. 

"But that ain't all, " continued Lilac; "just as I was turning to go hecalls after me, `What's yer name?' And when I told him he shouts out, `_What_!' with his eyes hanging out ever so far. "

"Well, I dare say he thought it was a silly-sounding sort of a name, "observed Agnetta. 

"He said it over and over to hisself, and laughed right out--`LilacWhite! White Lilac!' says he. `What a subjeck! What a name!Splendid!' An' then he says to me quieter, `You're a very nice littlegirl indeed, and if Mother will let you come I'll give you sixpence forevery hour you stand. ' So then I went an' asked Mother, and she saidyes, an' then I ran all the way here to tell you. "

Lilac looked round as she finished her wonderful story. Agnetta's eyeswere travelling slowly over her cousin's whole person, from her facedown to the thick, laced boots on her feet, and back again. "I can'tmek out, " she said at length, "whatever it is that he wants to paint youfor, and dressed like that! Why, there ain't a mossel of colour aboutyou! Now, if you had my Sunday blue!"

"Oh, Agnetta!" exclaimed Lilac at the mention of such impossibleelegance. 

"And, " pursued Agnetta, "a few artificials in yer hair, like the ladiesin our _Book of Beauty_, that 'ud brighten you up a bit. Bella's gotsome red roses with dewdrops on 'em, an' a caterpillar just like life. She'd lend you 'em p'r'aps, an' I don't know but what I'd let you havemy silver locket just for once. "

"I'm afraid he wouldn't like that, " said Lilac dejectedly, "because hesaid quite earnest, `_Mind_ you bring the bonnet'. "

She saw herself for a moment in the splendid attire Agnetta haddescribed, and gave a little sigh of longing. 

"I must go back, " she said, getting up suddenly, "Mother'll want me. There's lots to do at home. "

"I'll go with you a piece, " said Agnetta; "we'll go through the farmyardway so as I can leave the basin. "

This was a longer way home for Lilac than across the fields, but shenever thought of disputing Agnetta's decision, and the cousins left theorchard by another gate which led into the garden. It was not a verytidy garden, and although some care had been bestowed on the vegetables, the flowers were left to come up where they liked and how they liked, and the grass plot near the house was rank and weedy. Nevertheless itpresented a gay and flourishing appearance with its masses of polyanthusin full bloom, its tulips, and Turk's head lilies, and lilac bushes. There was one particular bed close to the gate which had a neaterappearance than the rest, and where the flowers grew in a well-orderedmanner as though accustomed to personal attention. The edges of theturf were trimly clipped, and there was not a weed to be seen. It had amixed border of forget-me-not and London pride. 

"How pretty your flowers grow!" said Lilac, stopping to look at it withadmiration. 

"Oh, that's Peter's bed, " said Agnetta carelessly, snapping off someblossoms. "He's allays mucking at it in his spare time--not that he'sgot much, there's so much to do on the farm. "

The house was now in front of them, and a little to the left thevarious, coloured roofs of the farm buildings, some tiled withweather-beaten bricks, some thatched, some tarred, and the bright yellowstraw ricks standing here and there. Between these buildings and thehouse was a narrow lane, generally ankle-deep in mud, which led into thehighroad. 

Lilac was very fond of the farmyard and all the creatures in it. Shestopped at the gate and looked over at a company of small black pigsrouting about in the straw. 

"Oh, Agnetta!" she exclaimed, "you've got some toiny pigs; what peartlittle uns they are!"

"I can't abide pigs, " said Agnetta with a toss of her curl-papered head;"no more can't Bella, we neither of us can't. Nasty, vulgar, low-smelling things. "

Lilac felt that hers must be a vulgar taste as Agnetta said so, butstill she _did_ like the little pigs, and would have been glad to lingernear them. It was often puzzling to her that Agnetta called so manythings common and vulgar, but she always ended by thinking that it wasbecause she was so superior. 

"Here, Peter!" exclaimed Agnetta suddenly. A boy in leather leggingsand a smock appeared at the entrance of the barn, and came trampingacross the straw towards them at her call. "Just take this into thekitchen, " said his sister in commanding tones. "Now, " turning to Lilac, "we can go t'other way across the fields. The lane's all in a muck. "

Peter slouched away with the basin in his hand. He was a heavy-lookingyouth, and so shy that he seldom raised his eyes from the ground. 

"No one 'ud think, " said Agnetta as the girls entered the meadow again, "as Peter was Bella's and Gusta's and my brother. He's so dreadfulvulgar-lookin' dressed like that. He might be a common ploughboy, andhis manners is awful. "

"Are they?" said Lilac. 

"Pa won't hear a word against him, " continued Agnetta, "cause he's souseful with the farm work. He says he'd rather see Peter drive astraight furrow than dress himself smart. But Bella and me we'reashamed to be seen with him, we can't neither of us abide commoners. "

Common! there was the word again which seemed to mean so many things andyet was so difficult to understand. Common things were evidentlyvulgar. The pigs were common, Peter was common, perhaps Lilac herselfwas common in Agnetta's eyes. "And yet, " she reflected, lifting hergaze from the yellow carpet at her feet to the flowering orchards, "thecherry blossoms and the buttercups are common too; would Agnetta callthem vulgar?"

She had not long to think about this, for her cousin soon introducedanother and a very interesting subject. 

"Who's goin' to be Queen this year, I wonder?" she said; "there'll be asight of flowers if the weather keeps all on so fine. "

"It'll be you, Agnetta, for sure, " answered Lilac; "I know lots who meanto choose you this time. "

"I dessay, " said Agnetta with an air of lofty indifference. 

"Don't you want to be?" asked Lilac. 

The careless tone surprised her, for to be chosen Queen of the May wasnot only an honour, but a position of importance and splendour. Itmeant to march at the head of a long procession of children, in a whitedress, to be crowned with flowers in the midst of gaiety and rejoicing, to lead the dance round the maypole, and to be first throughout a day ofrevelry and feasting. To Lilac it was the most beautiful of ceremoniesto see the Queen crowned; to join in it was a delight, but to be chosenQueen herself would be a height of bliss she could hardly imagine. Itwas impossible therefore, to think her cousin really indifferent, andindeed this was very far from the case, for Agnetta had set her heart onbeing Queen, and felt tolerably sure that she should get the greatestnumber of votes this year. 

"I don't know as I care much, " she answered; "let's sit down here abit. "

They sat down one each side of a stile, with their faces turned towardseach other, and Agnetta again fixed her direct gaze critically on hercousin's figure. Lilac twirled her sunbonnet round somewhat confusedlyunder these searching glances. 

"It's a pity you wear your hair scrattled right off your face likethat, " said Agnetta at last; "it makes you look for all the world likeDaisy's white calf. "

"Does it?" said Lilac meekly; "Mother likes it done so. "

"I know something as would improve you wonderful, and give you a bit ofstyle--something as would make the picture look a deal better. "

"Oh, what, Agnetta?"

"Well, it's just as simple as can be. It's only to take a pair ofscissors and cut yer hair like mine in front so as it comes down overyer face a bit. It 'ud alter you ever so. You'd be surprised. "

Lilac started to her feet, struck with the immensity of the idea. Afringe! It was a form of elegance not unknown amongst theschool-children, but one which she had never thought of as possible forherself. 

There was Agnetta's stolid rosy face close to her, as unmoved andunexcited as if she had said nothing unusual. 

"Oh, Agnetta, _could_ I?" gasped Lilac. 

"Whyever not?" said her cousin calmly. 

Lilac sat down again. "I dursn't, " she said. "I couldn't ever bear tolook Mother in the face. "

"Has she ever told you not?"

"N-no, " answered Lilac hesitatingly; "leastways she only said once thatthe girls made frights of themselves with their fringes. "

"Frights indeed!" said Agnetta scornfully; "anyhow, " she added, "it 'ullgrow again if she don't like it. " So it would. That reflection madethe deed seem a less daring one, and Lilac's face at once showed signsof yielding, which Agnetta was not slow to observe. Warming with hersubject, she proceeded to paint the improvement which would follow inglowing colours, and in this she was urged by two motives--one, anhonest desire to smarten Lilac up a little, and the other, to vex andthwart her aunt, Mrs White; to pay her out, as she expressed it, forsundry uncomplimentary remarks on herself and Bella. 

"And supposing, " was Lilac's next remark, "as how I _was_ to make up mymind, I couldn't never do it for myself. I should be scared. "

This difficulty the energetic Agnetta was quite ready to meet. _She_would do it. Lilac had only to run down to the farm early next morning, and, after she was made fashionable, she could go straight on to theartist. "And won't he just be surprised!" she added with a chuckle. "Idon't expect he'll hardly know you. "

"You're _quite_ sure it'll make me look better?" said Lilac wistfully. She had the utmost faith in her cousin, but the step seemed to her sucha terribly large one. 

"Ain't I?" was Agnetta's scornful reply. "Why, Gusta says all theladies in London wears their hair like that now. "

After this last convincing proof, for Gusta's was a name of greatauthority, Lilac resisted no longer, and soon discovered, by thestriking of the church clock, that it was getting very late. She saidgood-bye to Agnetta, therefore, and, leaving her to make her way back ather leisure, ran quickly on through the meadows all streaked andsprinkled with the spring flowers. After these came the dusty high-roadfor a little while, and then she reached the foot of the steep hillwhich led up to her home. The artist gentleman was there as usual, apipe in his mouth, and a palette on his thumb, painting busily: as shehurriedly dropped a curtsy in passing, Lilac's heart beat quite fast. 

"Me in a picture with a fringe!" she said to herself; "how I do hope asMother won't mind!"

That afternoon, when she sat quietly down to her sewing, this great ideaweighed heavily upon her. It would be the very first step she had evertaken without her mother's approval, and away from the influence ofAgnetta's decided opinion it seemed doubly alarming--a desperate and yetan attractive deed. 

Now and then for a moment she thought it would be better to tell hermother, but when she looked up at the grave, rather sad face, bentclosely over some needlework, she lacked courage to begin. It seemedfar removed from such trifles as fringes and fashions; and though, asLilac knew well, it could have at times a smile full of love upon it, just now its expression was thoughtful, and even stern. 

She kept silence, therefore, and stitched away with a mind as busy asher fingers, until it was time to boil the kettle and get the tea ready. This was just done when Mrs Wishing, who lived still farther up thehill, dropped in on her way home from the village. 

She was an uncertain, wavering little woman, with no will of her own, and a heavy burden in the shape of a husband, who, during the last fewyears, had taken to fits of drinking. The widow White acknowledged thatshe had a good deal to bear from Dan'l, and when times were very bad, often supplied her with food and firing from her own small store. Butshe did not do so without protest, for in her opinion the fault was notentirely on Dan'l's side. "Maybe, " she said, "if he found a cleanhearth and a tidy bit o' supper waitin' at home, he'd stay thereoftener. An' if he worked reg'lar, and didn't drink his wages, you'dwant for nothin', and be able to put by with only just the two of you tokeep. But I can't see you starve. "

Mrs Wishing fluttered in at the door, and, as she thought probable, wasasked to have a dish of tea. Lilac bustled round the kitchen and seteverything neatly on the table, while her mother, glancing at her nowand then, stood at the window sewing with active fingers. 

"Well, you're always busy, Mrs White, " said the guest plaintively asshe untied her bonnet strings. "I will say as you're a hard workeryourself, whatever you say about other folks. "

"An' I hope as when the time comes as I can't work that the Lord 'ullsee fit to take me, " said Mrs White shortly. 

"Dear, dear, you've got no call to say that, " said Mrs Wishing, "you ashave got Lilac to look to in your old age. Now, if it was me and Dan'l, with neither chick nor child--" She shook her head mournfully. 

Mrs White gave her one sharp glance which meant "and a good thing too", but she did not say the words aloud; there was something so helpless andincapable about Mrs Wishing, that it was both difficult and useless tobe severe with her, for the most cutting speeches could not rouse herfrom the mild despair into which she had sunk years ago. "I dessayyou're right, but _I_ dunno, " was her only reply to all reproaches andexhortations, and finding this, Mrs White had almost ceased them, except when they were wrung from her by some unusual example of badmanagement. 

"An' so handy as she is, " continued Mrs Wishing, her wandering gazecaught for a moment by Lilac's active little figure, "an' that's allyour up-bringing, Mrs White, as I was saying just now to MrsGreenways. "

Mrs White, who was now pouring out the tea, looked quickly up at themention of Mrs Greenways. She would not ask, but her very soul longedto know what had been said. 

"She was talkin' about Lilac as I was in at Dimbleby's getting a bunchof candles, " continued Mrs Wishing, "sayin' how her picture was goingto be took; an' says she, `It's a poor sort of picture as she'll make, with a face as white as her pinafore. Now, if it was Agnetta, ' saysshe, `as has a fine nateral bloom, I could understand the gentlemanwantin' to paint _her_. '"

"I s'pose the gentleman knows best himself what he wants to paint, " saidMrs White. 

"Lor', of course he do, " Mrs Wishing hastened to reply; "and, as I saidto Mrs Greenways, `Red cheeks or white cheeks don't make much differ toa gal in life. It's the upbringing as matters. '"

Mrs White looked hardly so pleased with this sentiment as her visitorhad hoped. She was perfectly aware that it had been invented on thespot, and that Mrs Wishing would not have dared to utter it to MrsGreenways. Moreover, the comparison between Lilac's paleness andAgnetta's fine bloom touched her keenly, for in this remark sherecognised her sister-in-law's tongue. 

The rivalry between the two mothers was an understood thing, and thoughit had never reached open warfare, it was kept alive by the kindness ofneighbours, who never forgot to repeat disparaging speeches. MrsWhite's opinions of the genteel uselessness of Bella and Gusta werefreely quoted to Mrs Greenways, and she in her turn was always readywith a thrust at Lilac which might be carried to Mrs White. 

When the widow had first heard of the artist's proposal, her intensegratification was at once mixed with the thought, "What'll MrsGreenways think o' that?"

But she did not express this triumph aloud. Even Lilac had no idea thather mother's heart was overflowing with pleasure and pride because itwas _her_ child, _her_ Lilac, whom the artist wished to paint. So now, though she bit her lip with vexation at Mrs Wishing's speech, she tookit with outward calmness, and only replied, with a glance at herdaughter:

"Lilac never was one to think much about her looks, and I hope she neverwill be. "

Both the look and the words seemed to Lilac to have special meaning, almost as though her mother knew what she intended to do to-morrow; itseemed indeed to be written in large letters everywhere, and all thatwas said had something to do with it. This made her feel so guilty, that she began to be sure it would be very wrong to have a fringe. Should she give it up? It was a relief when Mrs Wishing, leaving thesubject of the picture for one of nearer interest, proceeded to dwell onDan'l and his failings, so that Lilac was not referred to again. Thiswell-worn topic lasted for the rest of the visit, for Dan'l had beenworse than usual. He had "got the neck of the bottle", as Mrs Wishingexpressed it, and had been in a hopeless state during the last week. Her sad monotonous voice went grinding on over the old story, whileLilac, washing up the tea things, carried on her own little fears, andhopes, and wishes in her own mind. No one watching her would haveguessed what those wishes were: she looked so trim and neat, and handledthe china as deftly as though she had no other thought than to do herwork well. And yet the inside did not quite match this proper outside, for her whole soul was occupied with a beautiful vision--herself with afringe like Agnetta! It proved so engrossing that she hardly noticedMrs Wishing's departure, and when her mother spoke she looked upstartled. 

"Yon's a poor creetur as never could stand alone and never will, " shesaid. "It was the same when she was a gal--always hangin' on tosomeone, always wantin' someone else to do for her, and think for her. Well! empty sacks won't never stand upright, and it's no good tryin' tomake 'em. "

Lilac made no reply, and Mrs White, seizing the opportunity ofimpressing a useful lesson, continued:

"Lor'! it seems only the other day as Hepzibah was married to DanielWishing. A pretty gal she was, with clinging, coaxing ways, like thesuckles in the hedge, and everyone she come near was ready to give her ahelping hand. And at the wedding they all said, `There, now, she's gotthe right man, Hepzibah has. A strong, steady feller, and a goodworkman an' all, and one as'll look after her an' treat her kind. ' ButI mind what I said to Mrs Pinhorn on that very day: `I hope it may beso, ' I says, `but it takes an angel, and not a man, to bear with a womanas weak an' shiftless as Hepzibah, and not lose his temper. ' And nowlook at 'em! There's Dan'l taken to drink, and when he's out of himselfhe'll lift his hand to her, and they're both of 'em miserable. It doesa deal o' harm for a woman to be weak like that. She can't stand alone, and she just pulls a man down along with her. "

The troubles of the Wishings were very familiar to Lilac's ears, and, though she took her knitting and sat down on her little stool close toher mother, she did not listen much to what she was saying. 

Mrs White, quite ignorant that her words of wisdom were wasted, continued admonishingly:

"So as you grow up, Lilac, and get to a woman, that's what you've got tolearn--to trust to yourself; you won't always have a mother to look to. And what you've got to do now is, to learn to do your work jest as wellas you can, and then afterwards you'll be able to stand firm on yer owntwo feet, and not go leaning up against other folk, or be beholden tonobody. That's a good thing, that is. There's a saying, `Heaven helpsthem as helps themselves'. If that poor Hepzibah had helped herselfwhen she was a gal, she wouldn't be such a daundering creetur now, andDan'l, he wouldn't be a curse instead of a blessin'. "

When Lilac went up to her tiny room in the roof that night, her headfelt too full of confusing thoughts to make it possible to go to bed atonce. She knelt on a box that stood in the window, fastened back thelattice, and, leaning on the sill, looked out into the night. Thegreyness of evening was falling over everything, but it was not nearlydark yet, so that she could see the windings of the chalky road whichled down to the valley, and the church tower, and even one of the gablewindows in Orchards Farm, where a light was twinkling. Generally thislast object was a most interesting one to her, but to-night she did notnotice outside things much, for her mind was too busy with its ownconcerns. She had, for the first time in her life, something quite newand strange to think of, something of her own which her mother did notknow; and though this may seem a very small matter to people whose livesare full of events, to Lilac it was of immense importance, for until nowher days had been as even and unvaried as those of any daisy that growsin a field. But to-morrow, two new things were to happen--she was tohave her hair cut, and to have her picture painted. "A poor sort ofpicture, " Mrs Greenways had said it would be, and, no doubt, Lilacagreed in her own mind Agnetta would make a far finer one--Agnetta, whohad red cheeks, and a fringe already, and could dress herself so muchsmarter. Would a fringe really improve her? Agnetta said so. Andyet--her mother--was it worth while to risk vexing her? But it wouldgrow. Yes, but in the picture it would never grow. The more shethought, the more difficult it was to see her way clear; as the eveninggrew darker and more shadowy, so her reflections became dimmer and moreconfused; at last they were suddenly stopped altogether, for a bat whichhad come forth on its evening travels flapped straight against her faceunder the eaves. Thoroughly roused, Lilac drew in her head, shut herwindow, and was very soon fast asleep in bed. 

Night is said to bring counsel, and perhaps it did so in some way, although she slept too soundly to dream, for punctually at eleveno'clock the next morning she was at the meeting-place appointed byAgnetta at the farm. 

This was a loft over the cows' stables, the only place when, at thathour, they could be sure of no interruption. 

"The proper place 'ud be my bedroom, " Agnetta had said, "where there's amirror an' all; but it's Bella's too, you see, an' just now she's makinga new bonnet, and she's forever there trying it on. But I'll bring thescissors and do it in a jiffy. "

And here was Agnetta armed with the scissors, and a certain authority ofmanner she always used with her cousin. 

"Tek off yer bonnet and undo yer plaits, " she said, opening and shuttingthe bright scissors with a snap, as though she longed to begin. 

Lilac stood with her back against a truss of hay, rather shrinking away, for now that the moment had really come she felt frightened, and all herdoubts returned. She had the air of a pale little victim before herexecutioner. 

"Come, " said Agnetta, with another snap. 

"Oh, Agnetta, do you really think they'll like it?" faltered Lilac. 

"What I really think is that you're a ninny, " said the determinedAgnetta; "an' I'm not agoin' to wait here while you shilly-shally. Isit to be off or on?"

"Oh off, I suppose, " said Lilac. 

With trembling fingers she took off her bonnet, and unfastened her hairfrom its plait. It fell like a dark silky veil over her shoulders. 

"Lor'!" said Agnetta, "you have got a lot of it. "

She stood for a second staring at her victim open-mouthed with thescissors upraised in one hand, then advanced, and grasping a handful ofthe soft hair drew it down over Lilac's face. 

"Oh, Agnetta, " cried an imploring voice behind the screen thus formed, "you'll _be_ careful! You won't tek off too much. "

"Come nearer the light, " said Agnetta. 

Still holding the hair, she drew her cousin towards the wide open doorsof the loft. "Now, " she said, "I can see what I'm at, an' I shan't be aminute. "

The steel scissors struck coldly against Lilac's forehead. It was toolate to resist now. She held her breath. Grind, grind, snip! they wentin Agnetta's remorseless fingers, and some soft waving lengths of hairfell on the ground. It certainly did not take long; after a few moreshort clips and snips Agnetta had finished, and there stood Lilacfashionably shorn, with the poor discarded locks lying at her feet. 

It was curious to see how much Agnetta's handiwork had altered hercousin's face. Lilac's forehead was prettily shaped, and though she hadworn her hair "scrattled" off it, there were little waving rings andbits which were too short to be "scrattled", and these had softened itsoutline. But now the pure white forehead was covered by a lump of hairwhich came straight across the middle of it, and the small featuresbelow looked insignificant. The expression of intelligent modesty whichhad made Lilac look different from other girls had gone; she was just anordinary pale-faced little person with a fringe. 

"There!" exclaimed Agnetta triumphantly as she drew a small hand-glassfrom her pocket; "now you'll see as how I was right. You won't hardlyknow yerself. "

Lilac took it, longing yet fearing to see herself. From the surface ofthe glass a stranger seemed to return her glance--someone she had neverseen before, with quite a different look in her eyes. Certainly she wasaltered. Was it for the better? She did not know, and before she couldtell she must get more used to this new Lilac White. At present she hadmore fear than admiration for her. 

"Clump! clump!" came the sound of heavy feet up the loft ladder. Lilaclet the glass fall at her side, and turned a terrified gaze on Agnetta. 

"Oh, what's that?" she cried. "Let me hide--don't let anyone see me!"

Agnetta burst into a loud laugh. 

"Well, you _are_ a ninny, Lilac White. Are you goin' to hide fromeveryone now you've got a fringe? You as are goin' to have your picturetook. An' after all, " she added, as a face and shoulders appeared atthe top of the ladder. "It's only Peter. "

Peter's rough head and blunt, uncouth features were framed by the squareopening in the floor of the loft. There they remained motionless, forthe sight of Agnetta and Lilac where he had been prepared to find onlyhay and straw brought him to a standstill. His face and the tips of hislarge ears got very red as he saw Lilac's confusion, and he went a steplower down the ladder, but his eyes were still above the level of thefloor. 

"Well, " said Agnetta, still giggling, "we'll hear what Peter thinks ofit. Don't she look a deal better with her hair cut so, Peter?"

Peter's grey-green eyes, not unkindly in expression, fixed themselves onhis cousin's face. In her turn Lilac gazed back at them, half-frightened, yet beseeching mutely for a favourable opinion; it waslike looking into a second mirror. She waited anxiously for his answer. It came at last, slowly, from Peter's invisible mouth. 

"No, " he said, "I liked it best as it wur afore. " As he spoke the headdisappeared, and they heard him go clumping down the ladder again. Thewords fell heavily on Lilac's ears. "Best as it wur afore. " Perhapseveryone would think so too. She looked dismally first at the locks ofhair on the ground and then at Agnetta's unconcerned face. 

"Well, you've no call to mind what _he_ says anyhow, " said the lattercheerfully. "He don't know what's what. "

"I most wish, " said Lilac, as she turned to leave the loft, "that Ihadn't done it. "

As she spoke, the distant sound of the church clock was heard. Therewas only just time to get to the foot of the hill, and she said ahurried good-bye to Agnetta, tying on her bonnet as she ran across thefields. She generally hated the sun-bonnet, but to-day for the firsttime she found a comfort in its deep brim, which sheltered this newLilac White a little from the world. She almost hoped that the artistwould change his mind and let her keep it on, instead of holding it inher hand. 

CHAPTER THREE. 

"UNCLE JOSHUA. "

 "Let each be what he is, so will he be good enough for man himself, and God. "--_Lavater_. 

Whilst all this was going on at the farm, Mrs White had been busy asusual in the cottage on the hill--her mind full of Lilac, and her handsfull of the Rectory washing. It was an important business, for it wasall she and her child had to depend on beside a small pension allowedher by Jem's late employers; but quite apart from this she took a pridein her work for its own sake. She felt responsible not only for theunyielding stiffness of the Rector's round collars, but also for theappearance of the choristers' surplices; and any failure in colour orapproach to limpness was a real pain to her, and made it difficult tofix her attention on the service. This happened very seldom, however;and when it did, was owing to an unfortunate drying day or otheraccident, and never to want of exertion on her own part. 

There was nothing to complain of in the weather this morning--a brightsun and a nice bit of wind, and not too much of it. Mrs White wrungout the surplices in a very cheerful spirit, and her grave face had asmile on it now and then, for she was thinking of Lilac. Lilacsweetened all her life now, much in the same way that the bunch offlowers from which she took her name had sweetened the small room withits fragrance twelve years ago. As she grew up her mother's love grewtoo, stronger year by year; for when she looked at her she rememberedall the happiness that her life had known--when she spoke her name, itbrought back a thousand pleasant memories and kept them fresh in hermind. And she looked forward too, for Lilac's sake, and saw in years tocome her proudest hope fulfilled--her child grown to be aself-respecting useful woman, who could work for herself and need bebeholden to no one. She had no higher ambition for her; but this shehad set her heart on, she should not become lazy, vain, helpless, likeher cousins the Greenways. That was the pitfall from which she wouldstrain every muscle to hold Lilac back. There were moments when shetrembled for the bad influence of example at Orchards Farm. She knewLilac's yielding affectionate nature and her great admiration for hercousins, and kept a watchful eye for the first unsatisfactory signs. But there were none. No one could accuse Lilac of untidy ways, or wantof thoroughness in dusting, sweeping, and all branches of householdwork, and even Mrs White could find no fault. "After all, " she said toherself, "it's natural in young things to like to be together, andthere's nothing worse nor foolishness in Agnetta and Bella. " So sheallowed the visits to go on, and contented herself by many a word inseason and many a pointed practical lesson. The Greenways were seldommentioned, but they were, nevertheless, very often in the minds of bothmother and daughter. 

This morning she was thinking of a much more pleasant subject. "How wasthe artist gentleman getting along with Lilac's picture? He must bewell at it now, " she thought, looking up at the loud-voiced Americanclock, "an' her looking as peart and pretty as a daisy. White-facedindeed! I'd rather she were white-faced than have great red cheeks likea peony bloom. What will he do with the picture afterwards?" JoshuaSnell, through reading the papers so much, knew most things, and he hadsaid that it would p'r'aps be hung up with a lot of others in a place inLondon called an exhibition, where you could pay money and go to see'em. "If he's right, " concluded Mrs White, wringing out the lastsurplice, "I do really think as how I must give Lilac a jaunt up toLondon, an' we'll go and see it. The last holiday as ever I had wasfifteen years back, an' that was when Jem and me, we went--Why, I dobelieve, " she said aloud, "here she is back a'ready!"

There was a sound of running feet, which she had heard too often tomistake, then the click of the latch, and then Lilac herself rushedthrough the front room. 

"Mother, Mother, " she cried, "he won't paint me!"

Mrs White turned sharply round. Lilac was standing just inside theentrance to the back kitchen, with her bonnet on, and her hands claspedover her face. To keep her bonnet on a moment after she was in thehouse struck her mother at once as something strange and unusual, andshe stared at her for an instant in silence, with her bands held updripping and pink from the water. 

"Whatever ails you, child?" she said at length. "What made him changehis mind?"

"He said as how I was the wrong one, " murmured Lilac under her closedhands. 

"The _wrong_ one!" repeated her mother. "Why, how could he go to saysuch a thing? You told him you was Lilac White, I s'pose. There'sne'er another in the village. "

"He didn't seem as if he knew me, " said Lilac. "He looked at me verysharp, and said as how it was no good to paint me now. "

"Why ever not? You're just the same as you was. "

"I ain't, " said Lilac desperately, taking away her hands from her faceand letting them fan at her side. "I ain't the same. I've cut myhair!"

It was over now. She stood before her mother a disgraced and miserableLilac. The black fringe of hair across her forehead, the bonnet pushedback, the small white face quivering nervously. 

But though she knew it would displease her mother, she had very littleidea that she had done the thing of all others most hateful to her. Afringe was to Mrs White a sort of distinguishing mark of the Greenwaysfamily, and of others like it. Not only was it ugly and unsuitable initself, but it was an outward sign of all manner of unworthy qualitieswithin. Girls who wore fringes were in her eyes stamped with threecertain faults: untidiness, vanity, and love of dressing beyond theirstation. Beginning with these, who could tell to what other evils afringe might lead? And now, her own child, her Lilac whom she had beenso proud of, and thought so different from others, stood before her withthis abomination on her brow. Bitterest of all, it was the influence ofthe Greenways that had triumphed, and not her own. All her care andtoil had ended in this. It had all been in vain. If Lilac "tookpattern" by her cousins in one way she would in another--"a straw cantell which way the wind blows. " She would grow up like Bella andAgnetta. 

Swiftly all this rushed into Mrs White's mind, as she stood lookingwith surprise and horror at Lilac's altered face. Finding her voice asshe arrived at the last conclusion, she asked coldly:

"What made yer do it?"

Lilac locked her hands tightly together and made no answer. She wouldnot say anything about Agnetta, who had meant kindly in what she haddone. 

"I know, " continued her mother, "without you sayin' a word. It was oneof them Greenways. But I did think as how you'd enough sense andsperrit of yer own to stand out agin' their foolishness--let aloneanything else. It's plain to me now that you don't care for yer motheror what she says. You'll fly right in her face to please any of them atOrchards Farm. "

Still Lilac did not speak, and her silence made Mrs White more and moreangry. 

"An' what do you think you've got by it?" she continued scornfully. "Dothose silly things think it makes 'em look like ladies to cut their hairso and dress themselves up fine? Then you can tell 'em this from me:Vulgar they are, and vulgar they'll be all their lives long, and nothingthey can do to their outsides will change 'em. But they might a leftyou alone, Lilac, for you're but a child; only I did think as you'd ahad more sense. "

Lilac was crying now. This scolding on the top of much excitement anddisappointment was more than she could bear, but still she felt she mustdefend the Greenways from blame. 

"It was my fault, " she sobbed. "I thought as how it would look nicer. "

"The many and many times, " pursued Mrs White, drying her handsvigorously on a rough towel, "as I've tried to make you understandwhat's respectable and right and fitting! And it's all been no good. Well, I've done. Go to your Greenways and let them teach you, and muchprofit may you get. I've done with you--you don't look like my child nolonger. "

She turned her back and began to bustle about with the linen, notlooking towards Lilac again. In reality her eyes were full of tears andshe would have given worlds to cry heartily with the child, for to usethose hard words to her was like bruising her own flesh. But she wastoo mortified and angry to show it, and Lilac, after casting somewistful glances at the active figure, turned and went slowly out of theroom with drooping head. 

Pulling her bonnet forward so that her forehead and the dreadful fringewere quite hidden, she wandered down the hill, hardly knowing or caringwhere she went. All the world was against her. No one would ever lookpleasantly at her again, if even her mother frowned and turned away. One by one she recalled what they had all said. First, Peter: "I likedit best as it wur afore. " Then the artist--he had been quite angry. "You stupid little girl, " he had said, "you've made yourself quitecommonplace. You're no use whatever. Run away. " And now Mother--thatwas worst of all: "You don't look like my child. " Lilac's tears fellfast when she remembered that. How very hard they all were upon her!She strayed listlessly onwards, and presently came to a suddenstandstill, for she found that she was getting near the bottom of thehill, where the artist was no doubt still sitting. That would never do. At her right hand there branched off a wide grass-grown lane, one ofthe ancient roads of the Romans which could still be traced along thevalley. It was seldom used now, for it led nowhere in particular; buthere and there at long distances there were some small cottages in it, and in one of these lived the cobbler, Joshua Snell. 

Now, Uncle Joshua, as she called him, though he was no relation to her, was a great friend of Lilac's, and the thought of him darted into herforlorn little mind like a ray of comfort. He would perhaps look kindlyat her in spite of her fringe. There was no one else to do it exceptAgnetta, and to reach her the artist must be passed, which wasimpossible. Lilac could not remember that Joshua had ever been cross toher, even in the days when she had played with his bits of leather andmislaid his tools--those old days when she was a tiny child, and Motherhad left her with him "to mind" when she went out to work. And besidesbeing kind he was wise, and would surely find some way to help her inher present distress. Perhaps even he would speak to Mother, whothought a deal of what he said, and that would make her less angry. Alittle cheered by these reflections Lilac turned down the lane, quickened her pace, and made straight for the cobbler's cottage. 

It was a very small abode, with such a deep thatch and such tiny windowsthat it looked all roof. At right angles there jutted out from it anextra room, or rather shed, and in this it was possible, by peeringclosely through a dingy pane of glass, to make out the dim figure ofJoshua bending over his work. This dark little hole, in which there wasjust space enough for Joshua, his boots and tools and leather, had nodoor from without, but could only be approached through the kitchen. Ashe sat at work he could see the fire and the clock without getting up, which was very convenient, and he was proud of his work-shed, though inthe winter it was both chilly and dark. Joshua lived quite alone. Hehad come to Danecross twenty years ago from the north, bringing with hima wife, a collection of old books, and a clarionet. The wife, whoseblack bonnet still hung behind the kitchen door, had now been dead tenyears, and he had only the books and the clarionet to bear him company. But these companions kept him from being dull and lonely, and gave himbesides a position of some importance in the village. For by dint ofreading his books many times over, and pondering on them as he sat andcobbled, he had gained a store of wisdom, or what passed for such, and agreat many long words with which he was fond of impressing theneighbours. He was also considered a fine reader, and quite a musicalgenius; for although he now only played the clarionet in private, therehad been a time, he told them, when he had performed in a gallery as oneof the church choir. 

It was now about four o'clock in the afternoon, and he sat earnestlyintent on making a good job of a pair of boots which had been brought tohim to sole. He was also anxious to make the most of the bright springsunshine, a stray beam of which had found its way in at his littlewindow and helped him greatly by its cheerful presence. All at once ashadow flitted across it, and glancing up he saw a well-known figure runhurriedly in at the cottage door. "It's White Lilac, " he said tohimself with a smile but without ceasing his work, for Lilac was afrequent visitor, and he could not afford to waste his time in welcominghis guests. He did not even look round, therefore, but listened for hergreeting white his hammer kept up a steady tack, tack, tack. It did notcome. Joshua stopped his work, raised his head, and listened moreintently. The kitchen was as perfectly silent as though it were empty. "I cert'nly did see her, " said he, almost doubting his eyesight; "maybeshe's playing off a game. " He got up and looked cautiously round theentrance, quite expecting Lilac to jump out from some hiding-place witha laugh; but a very different sight met his eyes. Lilac had thrownherself into a large chair which stood on the hearth, her head was bent, her face buried in her hands, and she was crying bitterly. 

"My word!" exclaimed Joshua, suddenly arrested on the threshold. 

He rubbed his hands in great perplexity on his leather apron. It wasquite a new thing to see Lilac in tears, and they fell so fast that shecould neither control herself nor tell him the cause of her distress. In vain he tried to coax and comfort her: she would not even raise herhead nor look at him. Joshua looked round the room as if for counseland advice in this difficulty, and fixed his eyes thoughtfully on thetall clock for some moments; then he winked at it, and said softly, asthough speaking in confidence: "Best let her have her cry out; thenshe'll tell me. "

"See here, " he continued, turning to Lilac and using his ordinary voice. "You've come to get Uncle's tea ready for him, I know, and make himsome toast; that's what you've come for. An' I've got a job as I mustfinish afore tea-time, 'cause the owner's coming for 'em. So I'll goand set to and do it, and you'll get the tea ready like a handy maid asyou are, and then we'll have it together, snug and cosy. "

When he had settled himself to his work again, and the sound of hishammer mingled with the ticking of the tall clock as though they wererunning a race, Lilac raised her head and rubbed her wet eyes. Therewas something very soothing and peaceful in Uncle Joshua's cottage, andhis kind voice seemed to carry comfort with it. She had a strong hopethat he would help her in some way, though she could not tell how, forhe had never failed to find a remedy for all the little troubles she hadbrought to him from her earliest years. Her faith in him, therefore, was entire, and even if he had proposed to make her hair long again atonce, she would have believed it possible, because he knew so much. 

Gradually, as she remembered this, she ceased crying altogether, andbegan to move about the room to prepare the tea, a business to which shewas well used, for she had always considered it an honour to get UncleJoshua's tea and make toast for him. The kettle already hung on itschain over the fire, and gave out a gentle simmering sound; by the timethe toast was ready the water would boil. Lilac got the bread from thecorner cupboard and cut some stout slices. Uncle liked his toast thick. Then she knelt on the hearth, and shielding her face with one handchose out the fiercest red hollows of the fire. It was an anxiousprocess, needing the greatest attention; for Lilac prided herself on hertoast, and it was a matter of deep importance that it should be a fineeven brown all over--neither burnt, nor smoked, nor the least blackened. While she was making it she was happy again, and quite unconscious ofthe fringe, for the first time since she had felt Agnetta's coldscissors on her brow. 

It was soon quite ready on a plate on the hearth, so that it might keephot. Uncle Joshua was ready also, for he came in just then from hisshed, carrying his completed job in his hand: a pair of huge hobnailedboots, which he placed gently on the ground as though they were brittleand must be handled with care. 

"Them's Peter Greenways' boots, " he said, looking at them with sometriumph, "and a good piece of work they be!"

It was a great relief to Lilac that neither then nor during the meal didUncle Joshua look at her with surprise, or appear to notice that therewas anything different about her. Everything went on just as usual, just as it had so often done before. She sat on one side of the tableand poured out the tea, and Uncle Joshua in his high-backed elbow chairon the other, with his red-and-white handkerchief over his knees, hisspectacles pushed up on his forehead, and a well-buttered slice of toastin his hand. He never talked much during his meals; partly because hewas used to having them alone, and partly because he liked to enjoy onething at a time thoroughly. He was fond of talking and he was fond ofeating, and he would not spoil both by trying to do them together. Soto-night, as usual, he drank endless cups of tea in almost perfectsilence, and at last Lilac began to wish he would stop, for although shefeared she yet longed for his opinion. She felt more able to face itnow that she had eaten something, for without knowing it she had beenhungry as well as miserable, and had quite forgotten that she had had nodinner. She watched Uncle Joshua nervously. Would he ask for more tea. No. He wiped his mouth with the red handkerchief, looked straight atLilac, and suddenly spoke:

"And how's the picture going forrard then?"

After this question it was easy to tell the whole story, from itsbeginning to its unlucky end. During its progress the cobbler listenedwith the deepest attention, gave now a nod, and now a shake of the heador a muttered "Humph!" and when it was finished he fingered his cheekthoughtfully, and said:

"And so he wouldn't paint you--eh? and Mother was angry?"

"She's dreadful angry, " sighed Lilac. 

"Did you think it 'ud please her, now?" asked Uncle Joshua. 

"N-no, " answered Lilac hesitatingly; "but I never thought as how she'dmake so much fuss. And after all no one don't like it. Do you think ashow it looks _very_ bad, Uncle?"

The cobbler put his spectacles carefully straight and studied Lilac'sface with earnest attention. "What I consider is this here, " he said ashe finished his examination and leant back in his chair. "It makes youlook like lots of other little gells, that's what it does. Not so muchlike White Lilac as you used to. I liked it best as it wur afore. "

"Peter, he said that too, " said Lilac. "No one likes it exceptAgnetta. "

"Ah! And what made Agnetta and all of 'em cut their hair that way?"asked Uncle Joshua. 

"Because Gusta Greenways told Bella as how all the ladies in London didit, " answered Lilac simply. 

"That's where it is, " said Uncle Joshua. "My little maid, there'sthings as is fitting and there's things as isn't fitting. Perhaps it'sfitting for London ladies to wear their hair so. Very well, then letthem do it. But why should you and Agnetta and the rest copy 'em?You're not ladies. You're country girls with honest work to do, andproud you ought to be of it. As proud every bit as the grandest lady asever was, who never put her hand to a useful thing in her life. I'm notsaying you're better than her. She's got her own place, an' her ownlessons to learn, an' she's got to do the best she can with her life. But you're different, because your life's different, an' you'll neverlook like her whatever you put on your outside. If a thing isn't fitfor what it's intended, it'll never look well. Now, here's Peter'sboots--I call 'em handsome. "

He lifted one of them as he spoke and put it on the table, where itseemed to take up a great deal of room. Lilac looked at it with apuzzled air; she saw nothing handsome in it. It was enormously thickand deeply wrinkled across the toes, which were turned upwards as thoughwith many and many a weary tramp. 

"I call 'em handsome, " pursued Joshua. "Because for why? Becausethey're fit for ploughin' in the stiffest soil. Because they'll keepout wet and never give in the seams. They're fit for what they're meantto do. But now you just fancy, " he went on, raising one finger, "as howI'd made 'em of shiny leather, and put paper soles to 'em, and pointedtips to the toes. How'd they look in a ploughed field or a muddy lane?Or s'pose Peter he went and capered about in these 'ere on a velvetcarpet an' tried to dance. How'd he look?"

The idea of the loutish Peter capering anywhere, least of all on avelvet carpet, made Lilac smile in spite of Uncle Joshua's greatgravity. 

"Why, he'd look silly, " he continued; "as silly as a country girl, who'sgot to scrub an' wash an' make the butter, dressed out in silks an'fandangoes. She ought to be too proud of being what she is, to try andlook like what she isn't. Give me down that big brown book yonder an'I'll read you something fine about that. "

Lilac reached the book from the shelf with the greatest reverence; itwas the only one amongst Joshua's collection that she often begged tolook at, because it was full of curious pictures. It was Lavater'sPhysiognomy; having found the passage he wanted, Joshua read it veryslowly aloud:

"In the mansion of God there are to his glory vessels of wood, ofsilver, and of gold. All are serviceable, all profitable, all capableof divine uses, all the instruments of God: but the wood continues wood, the silver silver, the gold gold. Though the golden should remainunused, still they are gold. The wooden may be made more serviceablethan the golden, but they continue wood. Let each be what he is, sowill he be sufficiently good, for man himself, and God. The violincannot have the sound of the flute, nor the trumpet of the drum. "

He had just finished the last line, and still held one knotty brownfinger raised to mark the important words, when there was a low knock atthe door, and immediately afterwards it opened a little way and a headappeared, covered by a rusty-black wideawake. It was the second timethat day that Lilac had seen it, for it was Peter Greenways' head. In amoment all the events of the unlucky morning came back to her, and hisgruffly unfavourable opinion. Why had he come? This awkward Peter wasalways turning up when he was not wanted, and thrusting that largeuncouth head in at unexpected places. She turned her back towards thedoor in much vexation, and Peter himself remained stationary, with hiseyes fixed where he had first directed them--on his own boot, whichstill stood on the table by Joshua's elbow. His first intention hadevidently been to come in, but suddenly seized with shyness he was nowunable to move. 

"Why, Peter, lad, " said the cobbler, "come in then; the boots is readyfor you. "

Thus invited Peter slowly opened the door a very little wider andsqueezed himself into the room. He was indeed a very awkward-lookingyouth, and though he was broad-shouldered and strongly made, he was sobadly put together that he did not seem to join properly anywhere, andmoved with effort as though he were walking in a heavy clay soil. Everything about Peter, and even the colour of his clothes, made youthink of a ploughed field, and he generally kept his eyes fastened onthe ground as though following the course of a furrow. This was a pity, for his eyes were the only good features in his broad red face, and hadthe kindly faithful expression seen in those of some dogs. 

As he stood there, ill at ease, with his enormous hands opening andshutting nervously, Lilac thought of Agnetta's speech: "Peter's socommon. " If to be common was to look like Peter, it was a thing to beavoided, and she was dismayed to hear Uncle Joshua say:

"Well, now, if you're not just in time to go home with Lilac here, seein' as how we've done our tea, and her mother'll be looking for her. "

"Oh, Uncle, I'd rather not, " said Lilac hastily. Then she added, "Iwant you to play me a tune before I go. "

Joshua was always open to a compliment about his playing. 

"Ah!" he said, "you want a tune, do you? Well, and p'r'aps Peter he'dlike to hear it too. "

As he spoke he gave the boots to Peter, who was now engaged in draggingup a leather purse from some great depth beneath his gaberdine. Thiseffort, and the necessity of replying, flushed his face to a deeper redthan ever, but he managed to say huskily as he counted some coin intoJoshua's hand:

"No, thank you, Mr Snell. Can't stop tonight. "

Nevertheless it was some moments before he could go away: he stoodclasping his boots and staring at Joshua. 

"The money's all right, my lad, " said the latter. 

"Well, " said Peter, "I must be goin'. " But he did not move. 

"Well, good night, Peter, " said Joshua, encouragingly. 

"Good night, Mr Snell. "

"Good night, Peter, " said Lilac at length, nodding to him, and thisseemed to rouse him, for with sudden energy he hurled himself towardsthe door and disappeared. 

"Yon's an honest lad and a fine worker, " remarked the cobbler, "but hedo seem a bit tongue-tied now and then. "

And now, after the tune was played, there was no longer any excuse toput off going home. For the first time in her life Lilac dreaded it, for instead of a smile of welcome she had only a frown of displeasure toexpect from her mother. It was such a new thing that she shrank from itwith fear, and found it almost as difficult to say goodbye as Peter haddone. If only Uncle Joshua would go with her! Her face looked sowistful that he guessed her unspoken desire. 

"Now I shouldn't wonder, " he said, carefully thrusting the clarionetinto its green baize bag, "as how you'd like me to go up yonder withyou. And it do so happen as how I've got a job to take back to Dan'lWishing, so I shall pass yours without goin' out of my way. "

Accordingly, the door of the cottage being locked, the pair set outtogether a few moments later, Lilac walking very soberly by thecobbler's side, with one hand in his. Joshua's hand was rough withwork, so that it felt like holding the bough of a gnarled elm tree, butit was so full of kindness that there was great comfort and support init. 

How would Mother receive them? Lilac hardly dared to look up when theygot near the gate and saw her standing there, and hardly dared tobelieve her own ears when she heard her speak. For what she said was:

"Run in, child, and get yer tea. I've put it by. "

She stayed a long time at the gate talking to Uncle Joshua, and Lilac, watching them through the window, felt little doubt that they weretalking of her. When her mother came in, and was quite kind and gentle, and behaved just as usual, she felt still more sure that it was UncleJoshua's wonderful wisdom that had done it all. But if she could haveheard the conversation she would have been surprised, for they dweltentirely on the cobbler's rheumatics and the chances of rain, and saidno word of either Lilac or her fringe. Mrs White had had time torepent of her harsh words, and when the hours went by, and Lilac did notcome back, she had pictured her receiving comfort and encouragement fromthe Greenways--the very people she wished her to avoid. Now she haddriven her to them. "I could bite my tongue out for talking sofoolish, " she said to herself as she ran out to the gate, over and overagain. When at last she saw the two well-known figures approaching, shecould only just restrain herself from rushing out to meet Lilac andcovering her with kisses. The relief was almost too great to bear. 

In her own home, therefore, Lilac heard nothing further on the unluckysubject. But this was not by any means the case in the village, wherenothing was too small to be important. The fact of the Widow White'sLilac wearing a fringe was quite enough to talk of, and more than enoughto stare at, for it was something new. Unfortunately everyone knewLilac, and Lilac knew everyone, so there was no escape. Heracquaintances would draw up in front of her and gaze steadily for aninstant, after which the same remarks always came:

"My! you have altered yerself. I shouldn't never have known you, I dodeclare! And so you didn't have yer picter done after all?"

Lilac wished she could hide somewhere until her hair had grown longagain. And worst of all, when Mrs Leigh next saw her in school, shelooked quite startled and said:

"I'm so sorry you've cut your hair, Lilac; it looked much nicer before. "

It was the same thing over and over again, no one approved the changebut Agnetta, and Lilac's faith in her cousin was by this time a littlebit shaken. She should not be so ready, she thought, the next time tobelieve that Agnetta must know best. One drop of comfort in all thiswas that the artist gentleman no longer sat painting at the bottom ofthe hill. He had packed up all his canvases and brushes and gone off tothe station, so that Lilac saw him no more. She was very glad of this, for she felt that it would have been almost impossible to pass him everyday and to see his keen disapproving glance fixed upon her. Slowly thepicture that was to have been painted was forgotten, and Lilac White'sfringe became a thing of custom. There were more important matters nearat hand; May Day was approaching, an event of interest and excitement toboth young and old. 

CHAPTER FOUR. 

WHO WILL BE QUEEN?

 "When daisies pied and violets blue And lady-smocks all silver-white And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight. "--_Shakespeare_. 

On the top of the ridge of hills which rose behind Mrs White's cottagethere was a great beech wood, which could be reached in two ways. Onewas by following a rough stony road which got gradually steeper and wasterribly hard for both man and beast, and the other was to take a chalkytrack which led straight across the rounded shoulder of the downs. 

This last was considerably shorter, and by active people was alwayspreferred to the road, although in summer it was glaring and unshaded. But the scramble was soon over, and in the deep quiet shelter of thewoods it was cool on the hottest day, for the trees held their leaves sothickly over your head that it was better than any roof. The sun couldnot get through to scorch or dazzle, but it lit up the flickering sprayson the low boughs, so that looking through them you saw a silveryshimmering dance always going on. In the valley there had not perhapsbeen a breath of air, but up here a little ruffling breeze had its home, and was ready to fan you gently and hospitably directly you arrived. 

Under your feet a red-and-brown carpet of last year's leaves was spread, stirred now and then with sudden mysterious rustlings as the small wildcreatures darted away at the sound of your step. These and the birdsshared the woods in almost complete solitude, disturbed now and again bythe woodcutters, or boys from the village. But there was one day in theyear when this quiet kingdom was strangely invaded, when its inhabitantsfled to their most retired corners and peeped out with terrified eyesupon a very altered scene--and this was the first of May. Theneverything was changed for a little while. Instead of the notes of thebirds there were human voices calling to each other, laughing, singing, shouting, and the music of a band; instead of great silent spaces, therewere many brightly-coloured figures which ran and danced. In the midst, where a clearing had been made and the oldest trees stood solemnlyround, there appeared the slim form of a maypole decked with gayribbons; near it a throne covered with hawthorn boughs, on which, dressed in white with garland and sceptre, was seated the Queen of theMay. There with great ceremony she was crowned by her court, andafterwards led the dance round the maypole. Songs and feasting followeduntil the sun went down, and then the gay company marched away to thesounds of "God save the Queen. " Quietness reigned in the woods again, and once more the wild creatures which lived there could roam and fly attheir pleasure until next May Day. 

Now this holiday, which was fast approaching again, was not only lookedforward to with interest and excitement by the children, but was anevent of importance to everyone in the village. The very oldest madeshift somehow to get up to the woods and join in the rejoicing, and themost careworn and sorrowful managed to struggle out of their gloom forthat one day, and to leave behind the dulness of their daily toil. Many, coming from distant parts of the parish, met for the only timethroughout the year in the woods on May Day, and found the keenestpleasure in comparing the growth of their children, and talking of theirneighbours' affairs. It was a source of pride and satisfaction, too, tofathers as well as mothers, to point out some child in the procession sobedecked with flowers that the real Johnnie was hardly visible, and saywith a grin of delight:

"Why, it's our Johnnie, I do declare! Shouldn't never a known him. " Asthe time came round again, therefore, it was more or less in everyone'smind in some way. For one thing: Would it be fine? That affectedeveryone's comfort, for a cold wet May Day could be nothing but amiserable failure. Mr Dimbleby at the shop had his own anxieties, forit was his business to provide tea, bread and butter, and cake for thewhole assembly, and to get it all up to the top of the hill--no smallmatter. To do this it was necessary to keep his mind steadily fixed onMay Day for a whole week beforehand, and not to allow it to relax for aninstant. The drum-and-fife band, who felt themselves the pride andornament of the occasion, had to practise new tunes and polish up "Godsave the Queen" to a great pitch of perfection, and the children thoughtthemselves busier than anyone. Not only had they to wonder who would beQueen, but they must meet in the Vicarage garden and learn how to danceround the maypole, singing at the same time. Not only must they presentthemselves at all sorts of odd hours to have some wonderful costume"tried on" by Miss Ellen and Miss Alice, but above all they had togather the flowers for the wreaths and garlands. Sometimes, if theseason were cold and backward, it was difficult to get enough; but thisyear, as Lilac had noticed with delight, it had been so bright and mildthat the meadows were thick with blossoms and there was no fear of anyscarcity. She was always amongst the children chosen "to gather"; andthere was more in this office than might at first appear, for there weregood gatherers and bad gatherers. It might be done carelessly and in ahalf-hearted manner, or with full attention and earnest effort, andthese results were evident when each child brought her own collection tothe school room on May morning. The contents of the baskets were verydifferent, for some showed plainly that as little trouble as possiblehad been taken. These flowers were picked anyhow, with short stalks orlong stalks, in bud or too fully blown, faded or fresh, just as theyhappened to grow and could be most easily got. Others, again, you couldsee at the first glance, had been gathered with care and thought, thefinest specimens chosen just at the right stage of blossoming, and tiedin neat bunches with the stalks all of one length. You might be surethat the flowers in these baskets were quite as good at the bottom asthose on the top. Now, Lilac White was a gatherer on whom you mightdepend, and the ladies at the Rectory who made the wreaths, and dressedthe Queen, and arranged the festivities, considered her their bestsupport in the matter of flowers. For, by reason of having had her eyeupon them for weeks beforehand, she knew every spring where the finestgrew, whether they were early or late, and whether they would be readyfor the great occasion. When they had to be gathered she spared notrouble, but would get up at any hour so that they might be pickedbefore the sun scorched them, walk any distance or climb the steepesthills to get the very finest possible. She was always appealed to whenany question arose about the flowers. "We must ask Lilac White whetherthe king-cups are out, " Miss Ellen would say; and Lilac was always ableto tell. She filled, therefore, a very pleasant and important post atthese times, and took great pride in it; but her Cousin Agnetta lookedat this part of the affair differently. To her there was neitherpleasure nor profit in "mucking" about in the damp fields, as she said, getting her feet wet, and spoiling her frock in stooping about after theflowers. She wished Mrs Leigh would let them wear artificials, whichwere quite as pretty to look at, and did not fade or get messy, and wereno bother at all. You could wear 'em time after time. Agnetta feltquite sure she should be Queen this year, and although she did not likethe trouble beforehand she looked forward to the event itself very muchindeed. There were many agreeable things about it: the white dress, thecrown, the crowd of people looking on, and the fact of being firstamongst her companions. It was a little vexing that Lilac was quickerto learn the steps of the dance Miss Ellen was teaching them, and couldsing the May-Day song better than she could. Agnetta always sang out oftune, and tumbled over her own feet in the dance; but she consoledherself by remembering how well she should look as Queen dressed all inwhite, with her red cheeks and frizzy black hair. Meanwhile the Queenwas not yet chosen, but would be voted for in the school a weekbeforehand. 

Who would be chosen? It was a question which occupied a good many mindsjust then, and amongst them one which was not supposed to trouble itselfabout such matters, or to have anything to do with merry-making. Thiswas Peter Greenways' mind. He was so dull and silent, and worked sovery hard all the year, that it was an ever fresh surprise to see himappear with the rest on May Day, and came natural to say, "What, youhere, Peter!" although he had never missed a single occasion. Heexpressed no pleasure, and showed no outward sign of enjoyment; but healways went, to the great vexation of his sisters, who were heartilyashamed of him. His face was red, his figure was loutish--it wasimpossible to smarten him up or make him look like other folks; hecontinued, in spite of all their efforts, to be just plainPeter--"dreadful vulgar" in his appearance. And the worst of it was, that you could not overlook him in the crowd. This might have been thecase if he had been allowed to wear his ordinary working-clothes, butPeter in his "best" was an object which seemed to stand out from allothers, and to be present wherever the eye turned. 

On the day which was to decide the important question, Peter had beenploughing in a part of his father's land called the High Field. All therest lay level on the plain round about the farm, but this one field wason the shoulder of the downs, so that from it you looked far over thedistant valley, with its little clusters of villages dotted here andthere. Immediately below was the grey church of Danecross, the rectory, the school-house, and a group of cottages all nestling sociablytogether; farther on, Orchards Farm peeped out from amongst the trees, which were still white with blossom, and above all this came the coldserious outline of the chalk hills, broken here and there by the beechwoods. Peter never felt so happy as when he was looking at this fromthe High Field, with his dinner in his pocket and the prospect of a longday's work before him. It was so far away from all that disturbed andworried; no one to scold, no one to call him clumsy, no one to lookangrily at him, no sounds of dispute. Only the voice of the wind, whichblew so freshly up here and seemed to cheer him on, and the song of thelarks high above his head, and for companions his good beasts with noreproof in their patient eyes, but only obedience and kindness. Peterwas master in the High Field. No one could do a better day's work ordrive a straighter furrow, and he was proud of it, and proud of histeam--three iron-greys, with white manes and tails, called "Pleasant", "Old Pleasant", and "Young Pleasant. " Yet though he did his ploughingwell, it by no means occupied all his mind. As he trudged backwards andforwards with bent head, and hands grasping the handles, with now andthen a shout to his horses, and now and then a pause for rest, histhoughts were free as the wind, flying about to an sorts of subjects. For this silent Peter had always something to wonder about. He neverasked questions now as he had done at school: he had been laughed at somuch then, that he knew well enough by this time that he only wonderedso much because he was more stupid than other folks; it must be so, forthe most common things which he saw every day, and which wise peopletook as a matter of course, were enough to puzzle him and fill his mindwith wonder. The stars, the flowers, the sunset, the sound of the wind, the very pebbles turned up by the ploughshare, gave him strange feelingswhich he did not understand and which he carefully hid. They would havebeen explained, he knew, if he had expressed them, by the sentence, "Peter's not all there"; and he was sometimes quite inclined to thinkthat this was really the case. To-day his thoughts had been fixed onthe approaching holiday, and on all the delights of the past one. Itwas to him a most beautiful and even solemn occasion, and he couldrecall the very smallest detail of it from year to year: even theuncertain squeaks and flourishes of the drum and fife band weresomething to be remembered with pleasure. As his eye rested on theschool-house, a small red dot in the distance, he wondered if they hadsettled on the Queen yet, and whether Agnetta would be chosen. "She'llbe rarely vexed if she ain't, " he thought seriously. So the day wentby, and after five o'clock had sounded from the church tower Peter andhis beasts left off work and went leisurely down the hill towards home;two of the Pleasants in front with their harness clanking and flappingloosely about them, and their master following, seated sideways on theback of the third. Peter had done a long day's work and was hungry, buthe did not go into the house till he had seen his horses attended to byBen Pinhorn, who was in the yard when they arrived. Even after this hewas further delayed, for as he was crossing the lane which separated thefarm buildings from the house an ugly cat ran to meet him, rubbedagainst his legs, and mewed. 

"Jump, then, Tib, " said Peter encouragingly; and Tib jumped, arrivingwith outspread claws on the front of his waistcoat and thence to hisshoulder. Thus accompanied he went to the kitchen window and tappedsoftly, which signal brought Molly the servant girl with a saucer ofskim milk. 

"There's your supper, Tib, " said Peter as he set it on the ground, andstood looking heavily down at the cat till she had lapped up the lastdrop. And in this there was reason; for Sober the sheepdog, lying near, had his eye on the saucer, and only waited for Tib to be undefended toadvance and finish the milk himself. 

Being now quite ready for his own refreshment Peter made his way throughthe back kitchen into the general living-room of the family, which also, much to Bella's disgust, had the appearance of a kitchen. It was largeand comfortable, with three windows in it, looking across the garden tothe orchard, but, alas! it had a great fireplace and oven, where cookingoften went on, and an odious high settle sticking out from one corner ofthe chimney. This was enough to deprive it of all gentility, withoutmentioning the long deal table at which in former times the farmer hadbeen used to dine with his servants. They were banished now to the backkitchen, but this was the only reform Bella and Gusta had been able tomake. Nothing would induce their father to sit in the parlour, wherethere was a complete set of velvet-covered chairs, a sofa, a piano, aphotograph-book, and a great number of anti-macassars and mats. Allthese elegances were not enough to make him give up his warm corner inthe settle, where he could stretch out his legs at his ease and smokehis pipe. Mrs Greenways herself, though she was proud of her parlour, secretly preferred the kitchen, as being more handy and comfortable, sothat except on great occasions the parlour was left in chillyloneliness. When Peter entered there were only his mother and Bella inthe room. The latter stood at the table with a puzzled frown on herbrow, and a large pair of scissors in her hand; before her were spreadpaper patterns, fashion-books, and some pieces of black velveteen, whichshe was eyeing doubtfully, and, placing in different ways so that itmight be cut to the best advantage. Bella was considered a fine youngwoman. She had a large frame like all the Greenways, and nature hadgiven her a waist in proportion to it. She had, however, fought againstnature and conquered, for her figure now resembled an hour-glass--verywide at the top, and suddenly very small in the middle. Like Agnettashe had a great deal of colour, frizzy black hair, and a good-naturedexpression, but her face was just now clouded by some evident vexation. 

"Lor', Bella, " said her mother, turning round from the hearth, "put awaythem fal-lals--do. Here's Peter wanting his tea, and your father'll bealong from market directly. " Bella did not answer, partly because hermouth was full of pins, and Mrs Greenways continued: "You might hurryand get the tea laid just for once. I'm clean tired out. "

"Where's Molly?" muttered Bella indistinctly. 

"Molly indeed!" exclaimed her mother impatiently. "It's Molly here andMolly there. One 'ud think she had a hundred legs and arms for all youthink she can do. Molly's scrubbing out the dairy, which she ought to adone this morning. "

"It won't run to it after all!" exclaimed Bella, dashing her scissorsdown on the table; "not by a good quarter of a yard. "

"An' you've been and wasted pretty nigh all the afternoon over it, " saidMrs Greenways. "I do wish Gusta wouldn't send you them patterns, thatI do. "

"I've cut up the skirt of my velveteen trying to fashion it, " saidBella, looking mournfully at the plate in Myra's Journal, "so now I'mever so much worse off than I was afore. Lor', Peter!" she added, asher eye fell on her brother, "do go and take off that horrid gaberdineand them boots. You look for all the world like Ben Pinhorn, thereain't a pin to choose between you. "

"You oughtn't to speak so sharp, " said her mother, as Peter slouched outof the room. "I know what it is to feel spent like that after a day'swork. You just come in and fling down where you are and as you are, boots or no boots. "

As she spoke the rattle of wheels was heard outside, and then the clickof a gate. 

"There now!" she exclaimed, starting up; "there _is_ yer father. Backalready, and a fine taking he'll be in to see all this muss about and notea ready. He's short enough always when he's bin to market, withoutanything extry to vex him. " She swept Bella's scraps, patterns, andbooks unceremoniously into a heap, and directly afterwards the tramp ofheavy feet sounded in the passage, and the farmer entered. His firstglance as he threw himself on the settle was at the table, where Bellawas hurriedly clearing away her confused mass of working materials. 

"Be off with all that rubbish and let's have tea, " he said crossly. "Why can't it be ready when I come in?"

"You're a bit earlier than usual, Richard, " said his wife; "but you'llhave it in no time now. The kettle's on the boil. "

She made anxious signs to Bella to quicken her movements, for she sawthat the farmer was in a bad humour. Things had not gone well atmarket. 

"And what did you see at Lenham?" she asked, as she began to put thecups and saucers on the table. 

"Nawthing, " answered Mr Greenways, staring at the fire. 

"What did you hear then?" persisted his wife. 

"Nawthing, " was the answer again. 

Mother and daughter exchanged meaning looks. The farmer jerked his headimpatiently round. 

"What I want to see is summat to eat, and what I want to hear is no morequestions till I've got it. So there!"

He thrust out his legs, pushed his hands deep down in his pockets, andwith his chin sunk on his breast sat there a picture of moodydiscontent. 

After a good deal of clatter and bustle, and calls for Molly, the teawas ready at last--a substantial meal, but somewhat untidily served--andPeter, having changed the offensive gaberdine for a shiny black clothcoat, having joined them, the party sat down. It was a very silent one, for no one dared to address another remark to the farmer until he hadsatisfied his appetite, which took some time. At last, however, as hehanded his cup to his wife to be refilled, he asked:

"Who made the butter this week?"

"Why, Molly, as always makes it, " answered Mrs Greenways. "Wasn't itgood. I thought it looked beautiful. "

"Well, all I know is, " said the farmer moodily, "that Benson told meto-day that if this lot was like the last he wouldn't take no more. "

"Lor', Richard, you don't really mean it!" said Mrs Greenways, settingdown the teapot with a thump. "Whatever shall we do if Benson won'ttake the butter?"

"You can't expect him to take it if it ain't good, " answered the farmer. "I don't blame him; he's got to sell it again. "

"It's that there good-for-nothing Molly, " said Mrs Greenways. "I'malways after her about the dairy, yet if my head's turned a minuteshe'll forget to scald her pans, and that gives the butter a sourtaste. "

"All I know is, it's a hard thing, that with good pasture and good cows, and three women indoors, the butter can't be made so as it's fit tosell, " said Mr Greenways, hitting the table with his fist. 

"What's the use of Bella and Agnetta, I should like to know?"

Bella tossed her head and smiled. "Lor', Pa, how you talk!" she saidmincingly. 

"They've never been taught nothing of such things, " said Mrs Greenways;"and besides, Agnetta's got her schooling yet awhile. "

"Fancy me, " said Bella with a giggle, "making the butter with my sleevestucked up like Molly. I hope I'm above that sort of thing. I didn't goto Lenham finishing school to _learn_ that. "

"I can't find out what it was you did learn there, " growled her father, "except to look down on everything useful. I'll not have Agnetta sentthere, I know. Not if I had the money, I wouldn't. It's bad enough tohave bad seasons and poor crops to do with out-of-doors, without havinga set of dressed-up lazy hussies in the house, who mar more than theymake. Where to turn for money I don't know, and there's going on forthree years' rent owing to Mr Leigh. "

He got up as he spoke and left the room, followed by Peter. Bellacontinued her tea placidly. Father was always cross on market days, andit did not impress her in the least to be called lazy; she was far moreinterested in the fate of her velveteen dress than in the quality of thebutter. But this was not the case with Mrs Greenways. To hear thatBenson had threatened not to take the butter was a real as well as a newtrouble, and alarmed her greatly. The rent owing and the failing cropswere such a very old story that she had ceased to heed it much, but whatwould happen if the butter was not sold? The dairy was one of theirlargest sources of profit, and, as the farmer had said, the pasture wasgood and the cows were good. There was no fault out-of-doors. Whosefault was it? Molly's without doubt. "But then, " reflected MrsGreenways, "she have got a sight to do, and you can't hurry butter; youmust have care and time. " She sighed as she glanced at Bella's strongcapable form. Perhaps it would have been better after all, as MrsWhite had so often said, to bring up her girls to understand householdmatters, instead of being stylishly idle. "I did it for their good, "thought poor Mrs Greenways; "and anyhow, it's too late to alter 'emnow. They'd no more take to it than ducks to flying. " She was startledout of these reflections by the sudden entrance of Agnetta, who burstinto the room with a hot excited face, and flung her bag of books into acorner. 

"Well, " said Bella, looking calmly at her, "I s'pose you're to be Queen, ain't you?"

"No!" exclaimed Agnetta angrily, "I ain't Queen; and it's a shame, so itis. "

"Why, whoever is it, then?" asked Bella, open-mouthed. 

"They've been and chosen Lilac White; sneaking little thing!" saidAgnetta. 

"Well, now, surely, I am surprised, " said her mother. "I made surethey'd choose you, Agnetta; being the oldest, and the best lookin', andall. I do call it hard. "

"It's too bad, " continued Agnetta, thus encouraged; "after I've beensuch a friend to her, and helped her cut her hair. It's ungrateful. She might have told me. "

"Why, I don't suppose she knew it, did she?" said Bella. 

"She went all on pretending she wanted me Queen, " said Agnetta, "asinnocent as you please. And she must a known there were a lot meant tovote for her. I call it mean. "

"Never you mind, Agnetta, " said her mother soothingly; "come and get yertea, and here's a pot of strawberry jam as you're fond of. She'll nevermake half such a good Queen as you, and I dessay you'll look every bitas fine now, when you're dressed. "

"I don't want no strawberry jam, " said Agnetta sullenly, kicking at theleg of the table. 

"Mercy me!" said poor Mrs Greenways with a sigh, "everything do seem togo crossways today. "

CHAPTER FIVE. 

MAY DAY. 

 "But I must gather knots of flowers, and buds and garlands gay, For I'm to be Queen of the May, mother, I'm to be Queen of the May!" --_Tennyson_. 

Agnetta had been quite wrong in saying that Lilac had any idea of beingQueen. At the school that afternoon, when amidst breathless silence theMistress had counted up the votes and said: "Lilac White is chosenQueen", it had been such a surprise to her that she had stood as thoughin a dream. Her companions nudged her on either side. "It's you that'sQueen, " they whispered; and at length she awoke to the wonderful factthat it was not Agnetta or anyone else who had the most votes, but sheherself, Lilac White. She was Queen! Looking round, still half-puzzledto believe such a wonderful thing, she saw a great many pleased faces, and heard Mrs Leigh say: "I think you have chosen very well, and I amglad Lilac will be Queen this year. " It was, then, really true. "Howpleased Mother'll be!" was her first thought; but her second was not sopleasant, for her eye fell on Agnetta. It was the only sullen facethere; disappointment and vexation were written upon it, and there wasno answering glance of sympathy from the downcast eyes. Lilac was animpulsive child, and affection for her friend made her forget everythingelse for the moment. She left her place, went up to Mrs Leigh, who wastalking to the schoolmistress, and held one arm out straight in front ofher. 

"Well, Lilac, " said Mrs Leigh kindly, "what is it?"

"Please, ma'am, " said Lilac, dropping a curtsy, "if they don't mind, I'drather Agnetta Greenways was Queen. "

"Oh, that's quite out of the question, " said Mrs Leigh decidedly; "whenthe Queen's been once chosen it can't be altered. Why, I should havethought you would have been pleased. "

Lilac hung her head, and went back to her place rather abashed. She waspleased, and she did not like Mrs Leigh to think she did not care. Herwhole heart was full of delight at receiving such an honour, but at thesame time it was hard for Agnetta, who had so set her mind on beingQueen. If only she could be Queen too! That being impossible, Lilachad done her best in offering to give it up, and it was disappointing tofind that her friend, far from being grateful, was cross and sulky withher and quite out of temper. When the other children crowded roundLilac with pleased faces Agnetta held back, and had not one kind word tosay, but refusing an advances flung herself away from her companions andrushed home full of wrath. Lilac looked after her wistfully; it hurther to think that Agnetta could behave so. "After all, " she said toherself, "I couldn't help them choosing me, and I did offer to give itup. "

Everyone else was glad that she was Queen, and ready with a smile and anod when they met her. If Agnetta had only been pleased too Lilac'shappiness would have been perfect, but that was just the one thingwanting. However, even with this drawback there was a great deal ofpleasure to look forward to, and when she went to the Rectory to havethe white dress fitted on she was almost as excited as though it wasreally a royal robe. 

"It's a pity about the fringe, Lilac, " said Miss Ellen as she pinned andarranged the long train; "it's not nearly so becoming. " Then seeing theexcited face suddenly downcast she added: "Never mind; I dare say thecrown will partly hide it. "

Her arrangements finished, she called her sister, and they both surveyedLilac gravely, who, a little abashed by such business-like observation, stood before them shyly in her straight white gown, with the trainfastened on her shoulders. 

"I think she'll do very nicely, " said Miss Alice, "when she gets theflowers on. They make all the difference. What will she wear?"

Miss Ellen's opinion was decided on that point. "It ought to be whitelilac, and plenty of it, " she said, "nothing would suit the Queen sowell. " Then came a difficulty: there was none nearer than Cuddingham. Could it be got in time?

Lilac was doubtful, for Cuddingham was a long way off, but she promisedto do her best, and Miss Ellen's last words to her were:

"Bring moon daisies if you can't get it, but remember I should likewhite lilac much the best. "

Lilac herself thought the moon daisies would be prettier, with theirbright yellow middles; but Miss Ellen's word was law, and as she had sether heart on white lilac, some way of going to Cuddingham must be foundsince it was too far to walk. There were only two days now to the greatevent, and during them Lilac did her best to make her wants knowneverywhere. In vain, however. No one was going to or coming from thatplace; always the same disappointing answers:

"Cuddingham! No, thank goodness; I was there last week. I don't wantto see that hill again yet a while. " Or, "Well now, if I'd knownyesterday I might a suited you. " And so on. 

Lilac began to despair. She thought of Orchards Farm, but she had notcourage to ask any favour there while Agnetta was so vexed with her. Even Uncle Joshua, who had always helped her at need, had nothing tosuggest now, and did not even seem to think it of much importance. Hedropped in to see Mrs White on the evening before May Day, and with herusual faith in him Lilac at once began to place her difficulty beforehim. But for once he was not ready to listen, and she was obliged towait impatiently while he carried on a long conversation with hermother. They had a great deal to talk of, and it was most uninterestingto Lilac, for it was all about things of the past in which she had hadno share. She might have liked it at another time, but just now she wasfull of the present, and she became more and more impatient as UncleJoshua went on. He had to call back the first celebration of May Daywhich he "minded", and the smallest event connected with it; and when hehad done Mrs White took up the tale, dwelling specially on Jem'smusical talent, and how he had been the very soul of the drum-and-fifeband. 

"They're all at sixes and sevens now, to my thinking, " she said. "Jem, he kep' 'em together and made 'em do their best. "

"Aye, that's where it is, " said the cobbler with an approving nod;"that's what we've all on us got to do. "

His eye rested as he spoke on Lilac's eager face, and seizing theopportunity of a pause she rushed in with what she had so much on hermind:

"Oh, Uncle Joshua! to-morrow's the day, and I can't get no white lilacfor Miss Ellen to make my garland with. What shall I do?"

But Joshua was in a moralising mood, and though Lilac's question gavehim another subject to discourse on, he was more bent on hearing himselftalk than in getting over her difficulty. He raised one finger andbegan to speak slowly, and when Mrs White saw that, she paused with thekettle in her hand and stood quite still to listen. Joshua was going tosay something "good. "

"It don't matter a bit, " he said, "what you make your garland of. Flowers is all perishin' things and they'll be dead next day, and wearwhat you will, they won't make you into a real Queen. But there'sthings as will always make folks bow down when they see 'em, May Day orno May Day, and them's the things you ought to seek for, early and latetill you find 'em. You take a lot of pains to get flowers to deck youroutsides, but you don't care much for the plants I'm thinking of; youleave 'em to chance, and so sometimes they're choked out by the weeds. An' yet they're worth takin' trouble for, and if you once get 'em totake root and grow they're fit to crown the finest Queen as ever was;and they won't die either, but the more you use 'em the fresher andsweeter they'll be. There's Love now; you can't understand anyone, notthe smallest child, without that. There's Truth; you can't do anythingwith folks unless they trust you. There's Obedience; you can't ruletill you know how to serve. There's three plants for you, and there's awhole lot more, but that's enough for you to bear in mind, and I must begoing along. "

Joshua departed much satisfied with his eloquence, leaving Mrs Whiteequally impressed. 

"Lor'!" she exclaimed, "there's a gifted man. It's every bit as good asbeing in church to hear him. And I hope, Lilac, as how you'll lay it toheart and mind it when you get to be a woman. "

But Lilac did not feel in the least inclined to lay it to heart. Shewas vexed with Uncle Joshua, who had not been the least help in herperplexity; for once he had failed her, and she was glad he had goneaway so that she could think over a plan for to-morrow. It was of nouse evidently to reckon on white lilac any longer, the only thing to bedone now was to get up very early the next morning and pick the bestmoon daisies she could find for Miss Ellen. This determination was sostrong within her when she fell asleep, that she woke with a suddenstart next morning as the daylight was just creeping through herlattice. Had she overslept herself? No, it was beautifully early, itmust be an hour at least before her usual time. She dressed herselfquickly and quietly, so as not to disturb her mother in the next room, and then pushing open her tiny window gave an anxious look at theweather. Would it be fine? At present a thin misty grey veil wasspread over everything, but she could see the village below, whichlooked fast, fast asleep, with no smoke from its chimneys and nothingstirring. There was such a stillness everywhere that it seemed wrong tomake a noise, as though you were in church. And the birds felt it too, for they twittered in a subdued manner, keeping back their full burst ofsong to greet someone who would come presently. Lilac knew who thatwas. She knew as well as the birds that very soon the sun would thrustaway the misty veil and show his beaming face to the valley. It wouldbe fine. It was May Day, and she was Queen!

She drew a deep breath of delight, went downstairs on tiptoe, found abasket and a knife, tied on her bonnet, and unlatched the door; butthere she stopped short, checked on the threshold by a sight sosurprising that for a moment she could not move. For at her feet, onthe doorstep, lying there purely white as though it had fallen from theclouds, was a great mass of white lilac. There were branches andbranches of it, so that the air was filled with its gentle delicatescent, and it was so fresh that all its leaves were moist with dew. Someone had been up earlier even than herself. The question was--who?

Uncle Joshua of course; he had not failed after all, though how evensuch a very clever man could have got to Cuddingham and back since lastnight was more than Lilac could tell. That did not matter. There itwas, and what a fine lot of it! "He must have brought away nigh a wholebush, " she said to herself. "Miss Ellen will be rare and pleased, surely. " She gathered up the sweet-smelling boughs at last, and putthem into one of her mother's washing-baskets. There was no need topick moon daisies now, and as she swept and dusted the room and lit thefire she gave many looks of admiration at her treasure, and manygrateful thoughts to Uncle Joshua. Mrs White also had no doubt that hehad managed it somehow; and she was so moved by the fact of hiskindness, and by Lilac being Queen, and by a hundred past memories, thather usual composure left her, and she threw her apron over her head andhad a good cry. 

"There!" she said when it was over, "I can't think what makes me sosilly. But Jem he would a been proud to have seen you--he always likedthe laylocks. "

But now came the question as to how it was to be carried down the hillto the school room. Lilac could not lift the great basket, and it wasat last found best to pile up the branches in her long white pinafore, which she held by the two corners. When all was ready she lookedseriously across the fragrant burden, which reached up to her chin, andsaid:

"You'll be sure and be up there in time, won't you, Mother, or you won'tsee me crowned?"

"No fear, " said Mrs White as she held the gate open. "Mind and walksteady or you'll drop some, and you can't pick it up if you do. "

Lilac nodded. She was almost too excited to speak. If it felt likethis to be Queen of the May, she wondered what it must be like to be areal Queen!

It was a glorious morning. The mist had gone, the sun had come, and allthe birds were singing their best tunes to welcome him. To Lilac theysounded more than usually gay, as though they were telling each otherall sorts of pleasant things. "The sun is here--it is May Day--Lilac isQueen. " All the trees too, as they bent in the breeze, seemed to talktogether with busy murmurs and whisperings: they tossed their heads andthrew up their hands as if in surprise at some news, and then bowed lowand gracefully before her, for what they had heard was--"Lilac White isQueen!"

Her heart danced so to listen to them that it was quite difficult tokeep her feet to a measured step, but when she reached the turn of thehill something made her feel that she must look back. She turned slowlyround. There was Mother waving her hand at the gate. When they nextmet it would be up in the woods, and Lilac would wear crown and garland. She could not wave her hand or even nod in return, but she made a sortof little curtsy and went on her way. 

At the bottom of the hill she met Mrs Wishing, who, bent nearly doubleby a heavy bundle, was crawling up from the village. 

"Well, you look happy anyhow, Lilac White, " she said mournfully. "Andyou haven't forgotten to bring enough flowers with you either. "

"I can't stop, " said Lilac, "I've got to go and put these on Fatherfirst. It's so far for Mother to come. "

She gave a movement of her chin towards the primrose wreath which MrsWhite had added at the last moment to the heap of flowers. 

"Ah! well, " sighed Mrs Wishing, "in the midst of life we are in death. I haven't much heart for junketing myself, but I shall be up yonder thisafternoon if I'm spared. "

Lilac passed quickly on, nodding and smiling in return to the greetingswhich met her. At the door of the shop stood Mr Dimbleby, his faceheavier than usual with importance, and a little farther on she saw herUncle Greenways' wagon and team waiting in charge of Ben, who leantlazily against one of the horses. Mr Greenways always lent a wagon onMay Day so that the very old people and small children might drive upthe worst part of the hill. Certainly it was there in plenty of time, for it would not be wanted till the afternoon; but it is always well notto be hurried on such occasions, and many of the people had to walk fromoutlying hamlets. 

Lilac laid her primroses on her father's grave, and turned back towardsthe school-house just as the clock struck twelve. There were now manyother little figures hurrying in the same direction with businesslikestep, and all carrying flowers. Primroses, daisies, buttercups, cowslips, and honeysuckle were to be seen, but there was nothing half sobeautiful as the heap of white lilac. Agnetta saw it as she passed intothe school room, and gave an astonished stare and a sniff ofdispleasure: she had only brought a basket of small daisies, and hadtaken no trouble about them, so that her offering was not noticed orpraised at all. Then Lilac advanced, and dropping her little curtsystood silently in front of Miss Ellen and Miss Alice holding out herpinafore to its widest extent. There were exclamations of admirationand surprise from everyone, and Agnetta stamped her foot with vexationto hear them. 

"It's _exquisite_!" said Miss Ellen at last. "Where did you get such abeautiful lot of it?"

"Please, ma'am, I don't know, " said Lilac. "I found it on thedoorstep. "

Agnetta's wrath grew higher every moment. No one paid her anyattention, and here was her insignificant cousin Lilac the centre ofeveryone's interest. She overheard a whisper of Miss Alice's: "She'llmake far the loveliest Queen we've ever had. "

What could it be they admired in Lilac? Agnetta stood with a pout onher lips, idle, while all round the busy work and chatter went on. 

"Now, Agnetta, " said Miss Ellen, bustling up to her, "there's plenty todo. Get me some twine and some wire, and if you're very careful you mayhelp me with the Queen's sceptre. "

It was a hateful office, but there was no help for it, and Agnetta hadto humble herself in the Queen's service for the rest of the morning. To kneel on the floor, pick off small sprays from the bunches of lilac, and hand them up to Miss Ellen as she wove them into garland andsceptre. While she did it her heart was hot within her, and she feltthat she hated her cousin. The work went on quickly but very silentlyinside the schoolroom. There was no time to talk, for the masses offlowers which covered table, benches, and floor had all to be changedinto wreaths and garlands before one o'clock, for the Queen and hercourt. Outside it was not so quiet. An eager group had gathered therelong ago, composed of the drum-and-fife band, which broke out now andthen into fragments of tunes, the boy with the maypole on his shoulder, and bearers of sundry bright flags and banners. To these the timeseemed endless, and they did their best to shorten it by jokes andlaughter; it was only the close neighbourhood of the schoolmaster whichprevented the boldest from climbing up to the high window and hanging onby his hands to see how matters were going on within. But at last thelatch clicked, the door opened wide: there stood the smiling littlewhite Queen with her gaily dressed court crowding at her back. Therewas a murmur of admiration, and the band, gazing open-mouthed, almostforgot to strike up "God save the Queen. " For there was somethingdifferent about this Queen to any they had seen before. She was sodelicately white, so like a flower herself, that looking out from theblossoms which surrounded her she might have been the spirit of a lilacbush suddenly made visible. The white lilac covered her dress indelicate sprays, it bordered the edge of her long train, it twined upthe tall sceptre in her hand, it was woven into the crown which wascarried after her. At present the Queen's head was bare, for she wouldnot be crowned till she reached her throne in the woods. 

Then the procession began its march, band playing, banners flutteringbravely in the wind, through the village first, so that all those whocould not get up the hill might come to their doors and windows toadmire. Then leaving the highroad it came to the steep ascent, and herethe wind blowing more freshly almost caught away the Queen's train fromthe grasp of her two little pages. The band, in spite of gallantstruggles, became short of breath, so that the music was wild anduncertain; and the smaller courtiers straggled behind unable to keep upwith the rest. 

It made its way, however, notwithstanding these difficulties, and fromthe top of the hill where crowds of people had now gathered it waswatched by eager and interested eyes. First it looked in the distancelike a struggling piece of patchwork on the hillside, then it took shapeand they could make out the maypole and the flags, then, nearer still, the sounds of the three tunes which the band played over and over againwere wafted to their ears, and at last the small white figure of theQueen herself could plainly be distinguished from the rest. It did nottake long after this to reach level ground, and as the procession movedalong with recovered breath and dignity to the music of "God save theQueen", it was followed by admiring remarks from all sides:

"See my Johnnie! Him in the pink cap. Bless his 'art, how fine helooks!" Or "There's Polly Ann with the wreath of daisies!"

"Well now, " said Mrs Pinhorn, "I will say Lilac looks as peart and neatas a little bit of waxworks. "

"She wants colour, to my thinking, " said Mrs Greenways, to whom thiswas addressed. 

The Greenways stood a little aloof from the general crowd, dressed withgreat elegance. Bella rather looked down on the whole affair. "It's somixed, " she said; "but we have to go, because Papa don't wish to offendMr Leigh. "

"I call that a real pretty sight, " said Joshua Snell, turning to hisneighbour, who happened to be Peter Greenways. "They've dressed her upvery fitting in all them lilac blooms. But wherever did they get such asight of 'em?"

Peter had been forced into a shiny black suit of clothes, a stiffcollar, and a bright blue necktie, that he might not disgrace thestylish appearance of his mother and sisters. In this attire he felteven less at his ease than usual, and his arms hung before him ashelplessly as those of a stuffed figure. Perhaps it was owing to thisstate of discomfort that he made no other answer to Joshua's remark thana nervous grin. 

"I don't see the Widder White anywheres, " continued Joshua, lookinground; "but there's such a throng one can't tell who's who. "

Lilac, too, had been looking in vain for her mother amongst the groupsof people she had passed through, and as she took her seat on thehawthorn-covered throne she gazed wistfully to right and left. No, Mother was not there. Plenty of well-known faces, but not the one shewanted most to see. 

"She _promised_ to be in time, " she said to herself, "and now she'llmiss the crowning. " It was a dreadful pity, for Lilac could only beQueen once in her life, and it seemed to take away the best part of thepleasure for Mother not to be there. She had been looking forward to itfor so long. What could have kept her away? The Queen's eyes filledwith tears of disappointment, and through them the form of PeterGreenways seemed to loom unnaturally large, his face redder than everabove his blue neckcloth, his mouth and eyes wide open. Lilac checkedher tears and remembered her exalted position. She must not cry now;but directly the crowning and the dance were over she resolved to searchfor her mother, and if she were not there to go home and see what hadprevented her coming. 

This determination enabled her to bear her honours with becomingdignity, and to put aside her private anxiety for the time like otherroyal personages. She danced round the maypole with her court, and ledthe May-Day song as gaily as if her pleasure had been quite perfect. But it was not; for all the while she was wondering what could possiblyhave become of her mother. 

At last, her public duties over, the Queen found herself at liberty. The crowd had dispersed now, and was broken up into little knots ofpeople chatting together and waiting for the next excitement--tea-time. 

Through these Lilac passed with always the same question: "Have you seenMother?" Sometimes in the distance she fancied she saw a shawl of apattern she knew well, but having pursued it, it turned out to belong tosomeone quite different. She had just made up her mind to go home, whenone of her companions ran up to her with an excited face:

"Come along, " she cried; "they're just agoin' to start the races. "

Lilac hesitated. "I can't, " she said; "I've got to go and look afterMother. "

"Well, it'll be on your way, " said the other; "and you needn't stop nolonger nor you like. Come along. "

She seized Lilac's arm and they ran on together to the flat piece ofground on the edge of the wood, where the races were to take place. Thesteep side of the down descended abruptly from this, and Lilac knew thatby taking that way, which was quite an easy one to her active feet, shecould very quickly reach home. So she stayed to look first at one raceand then at another, and they all proved so amusing that the more shesaw the more she wanted to see, though she still said to herself: "I'llgo after this one. " She was laughing at the struggling efforts of theboys in a sack race, when suddenly, amidst the noise of cheers andshouting which surrounded her, she heard her own name spoken in anurgent entreating voice: "Lilac--Lilac White!"

"Who is it wants me!" she said, starting up and trying to force her waythrough the crowd. "I'm here; what is it?" The people stood back tolet her pass. 

"It's Mrs Leigh wants you, " said a woman. "She's standing backyonder. "

It was strange to see Mrs Leigh's beaming face look so grave andtroubled, and it gave Lilac a sense of fear when she reached her. 

"Is Mother here, ma'am?" was her first question. "Does she want me, please?"

Mrs Leigh did not answer quite at once, then she said very seriously:

"Your mother is at home, Lilac. You must go with me at once. She isill. "

Self-reproach darted through Lilac's heart. Why had she put off goinghome? But she must do the best she could now, and she said at once:

"Hadn't I best send someone for the doctor first, ma'am?"

"He is there, " answered Mrs Leigh. "He was sent for some time ago;Daniel Wishing went. "

The next thing was to get back to Mother as quickly as possible, andLilac turned without hesitation to the way she had meant to take--straight down the side of the hill. But Mrs Leigh stopped aghast. 

"You're not going down there, surely?" she said. 

"It's as nigh again as going round, ma'am, " said Lilac eagerly; "andit's not to say difficult if you do it sideways. "

Mrs Leigh still hesitated. It was very steep; the smooth turf wasslippery. There was not even a shrub or anything to cling to, and aslip would certainly end in an awkward tumble. At another time shewould have turned from it with horror, but she looked at Lilac'supturned anxious face and was touched with pity. 

"After all, " she said, grasping her umbrella courageously, "if you canhelp me a little, perhaps it won't be so bad as it looks. "

So they started, hand in hand, Lilac a little in front carefully leadingthe way; but she was soon sorry that they had not gone round by theroad. This was a short distance for herself, but it proved a long onenow that she had Mrs Leigh with her. A slip, a stop, a slide, anotherstop--it was a very slow progress indeed. As they went jerking alongthe flowers fell off Lilac's dress one by one and left a white trackbehind her. She had taken off her crown and held it in her hand; itsblossoms were drooping already, and its leaves folded up and limp. Howshort a time it was since they had been fresh and fair, and she hadmarched up the hill so bravely, full of delight. Now, poor littlediscrowned Queen, she was leaving her kingdom of mirth and laughterbehind her with every step, and coming nearer to the shadowy valleywhere sadness waited. After many a sigh and gasp Mrs Leigh and herguide reached the bottom in safety. They were on comparatively levelground now, with gently sloping fields in front of them and the sharpshoulder of the hill rising at their back. There, within a stone'sthrow stood the Wishings' cottage, and a little farther on Lilac's ownhome. How quiet, how very still it all looked! Now and then therefloated in the calm air a shout or a sudden burst of laughter from thedistant merry-makers, but here, below, it was all utterly silent. Thetwo little white cottages had no light in their windows, no smoke fromtheir chimneys, no sign of life anywhere. 

"Mother's let the fire out, " said Lilac. 

Mrs Leigh came to a sudden standstill. "Lilac, " she said, "my poorchild--"

Lilac looked up frightened and bewildered. Mrs Leigh's eyes were fullof tears, and she could hardly speak. She took Lilac's hand in hers andheld it tightly. "My poor child, " she repeated. 

"Oh, please, ma'am, " cried Lilac, "let's be quick and go to Mother. What ails her?"

"Nothing ails her, " said Mrs Leigh solemnly; "nothing will ever ail herany more. You must be brave for her sake, and remember that she lovesyou still; but you will not hear her speak again on earth. "

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The revels on the hill broke up sooner than usual that night, and thosewho had to pass the cottage on their way home trod softly and hushedtheir children's laughter. For ill news travels fast, and beforenightfall there was no one who did not know that the Widow White wasdead. 

And thus Lilac's May-Day reign held in its short space the greatesthappiness and the greatest sorrow of her life. Joy and smiles andfreshly-blooming flowers in the morning; sadness and tears and awithered crown at night. 

CHAPTER SIX. 

ALONE. 

 "The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear?"--_Proverbs_. 

A few days after this Lilac sat on her little stool in her accustomedcorner, listening in a dreamy way to the muffled voices of Mrs Pinhornand Mrs Wishing. They spoke low, not because they did not wish her tohear, but because, having just come from her mother's funeral, they feltit befitted the occasion. As they talked they stitched busily at some"black" which they were helping her to make, only pausing now and thento glance round at her as though she were some strange animal, shaketheir heads, and sigh heavily. Lilac had not cried much since hermother's death, and was supposed by the neighbours to be taking itwonderful easy-like. For the twentieth time Mrs Wishing was enteringslowly and fully into every detail connected with it--of all the doctorhad said of its having been caused by heart disease, of all she had saidherself, of all Mr Leigh had said; and if she paused a moment MrsPinhorn at once asked another question. For it was Mrs Wishing, who, running in as usual to borrow something, had found Mrs White on Maymorning sitting peacefully in her chair, quite dead. 

"And it do strike so mournful, " she repeated, "to think of the childjunketing up on the hill, and May Queen an' all, an' that poor soul analone. "

"It's a thing one doesn't rightly understand, that is, " said MrsPinhorn, "why both Lilac's parents should have been took so sudden. "She gave a sharp glance round the room--"I suppose, " she added, "theGreenways'll have the sticks. There's a goodish few, and well kep'. Mary White was always one for storing her things. "

"I never heard of no other kin, " said Mrs Wishing. 

"Lilac's lucky to get a home like Orchards Farm. But there! Some isborn lucky. "

The conversation continued in the same strain until Mrs Wishingdiscovered that she must go home and get Dan'l's supper ready. 

"An' it's time I was starting too, " added Mrs Pinhorn. "I've got agoodish bit to walk. "

They both looked hesitatingly at Lilac. 

"You'll come alonger me and sleep, won't you, dearie?" said Mrs Wishingcoaxingly. "It's lonesome for you here. "

But Lilac shook her head. "I'd rather bide here, thank you, " was allshe said; and after trying many forms of persuasion the two women lefther unwillingly and took their way. 

Lilac stood at the open door and watched them out of sight, but she wasnot thinking of them at all, though she still seemed to hear MrsWishing's words: "It's lonesome for you here. " Her head felt strangeand dizzy, almost as though she had been stunned, and it was strangerstill to find that she could not cry although Mother was dead. She knewit very well, everyone had talked of it to her. Mr Leigh had spokenvery kind, and Mrs Leigh had given her a black frock, and all theneighbours at the church that morning had groaned and cried and pitiedher; but Lilac herself had hardly shed a tear, though she felt it wasexpected of her, and saw that people were surprised to see her so quiet. She tried every now and then to get it into her head, and to understandit, but she could not. It seemed to be someone else that folks spokeof, and not Mother. As she stood by the open door, each thing her eyerested on seemed to have something to do with her and to promise herreturn. There was the hill she had toiled up so often: surely she wouldcome again with a tired footstep, but always a smile for Lilac. Therewas the little garden and the sweet-peas she had sown, just showinggreen above the earth: would she never see them bloom? There on thewindow sill were her knitting-pins and a half-finished stocking: was itpossible that Lilac would never hear them click again in her busyfingers? There, most familiar object of all, was the clothes line. Lilac could almost fancy she saw her mother's straight active figure, asshe had done scores of times, stretching up her arms to fasten theclothes with wooden pegs, her skirt tucked up, her arms bare, hersunbonnet tilted over her eyes. No--it was quite impossible to feelthat she would really never come back; it seemed much more likely thatby and by she would walk in at the door and sit down by the window inher high-backed Windsor chair, and take up the unfinished knitting. AsLilac was thinking thus, a figure did really appear at the top of thehill, a short square figure with a gaily trimmed hat on its head--hercousin Agnetta. 

For the first time in all her life Agnetta was feeling not superior toLilac as usual, but shy of her. She did not know what to say to her noreven whether she should be welcome, for she was conscious of having beenvery ill-tempered lately. Now that Lilac was in trouble, cast down fromher high position as Queen, she no longer felt angry with her, and wouldeven have liked to make herself pleasant--if she could. As she camenear, however, and stood staring at her cousin, she felt that somehowthere was a great difference in her, something which she could notunderstand. There was a look in Lilac's small white face which made itimpossible to speak to her in the old patronising tone; it was as thoughshe had been somewhere and seen something to which Agnetta was astranger, and which could never be explained to her. It made heruncomfortable, and almost afraid to say anything; and yet, sheremembered, Lilac was very low down in the world now--there was lessreason than ever to stand in awe of her. She was only poor little LilacWhite, with nothing in the world she could call her own, an orphan, anddependent for a home on Agnetta's father. So after these reflectionsshe took courage and spoke: "Mamma said I was to tell you that she'll beup to-morrow morning to look at the furniture, and you must be ready inthe afternoon to come down alonger Ben when he brings the cart. "

Lilac nodded, and the two girls stood silently on the doorstep for amoment; then Agnetta spoke again:

"I s'pose you're glad you're coming to live at the farm, ain't ye?"

"No, " answered Lilac, "I don't know as I be. I'd rather bide here. "

Agnetta had recovered her courage with her voice. She stepped uninvitedpast Lilac into the room and cast a curious look round. 

"Lor'!" she said, "don't it look mournful! I should think you'd be gladto get away. "

Lilac did not answer. 

"What's this?" asked Agnetta, pouncing on the needlework which the twowomen had left on the table. 

"It's a frock for me, " said Lilac. "Mrs Leigh give it to me. "

Agnetta held the skirt out at arm's length and looked at it critically. 

"Well!" she exclaimed with some scorn in her voice, "I should a thoughtyou'd a had it made different now. "

"Different?" said Lilac enquiringly. 

"Why, there's no reason you shouldn't have it cut more stylish, isthere, now there's no one to mind?"

No one to mind! Lilac looked at her cousin with dazed eyes for amoment, as if she hardly understood--then she took the stuff out of herhand. 

"I'll never have 'em made different, " she cried with a sudden flash inher eyes; "I never, never will. " And then to Agnetta's great surpriseshe suddenly burst into tears. 

Agnetta stood staring at her, puzzled. She was sorry, only what hadmade Lilac cry just now when she had been quite calm hitherto?

"Don't take on so, " she ventured to say presently; "and you'll spoilyour black. It'll stain dreadful. "

But Lilac took no more notice than if she had not been there, and soon, feeling that she could do nothing, Agnetta left her and took her wayhome. She had accomplished something by her visit, though she did notknow it, for she had made Lilac feel now that it really was true. Mother would not come back. She was alone in the world. There was noone, as Agnetta had said, "to mind. "

She began to understand it now, and the clearer it was the harder it wasto bear. So she bowed her head on the table, amongst the black stuff inspite of Agnetta's caution, and cried on. And presently another thing, which she had not realised till now, stood out plainly before her. Shewas to go away to-morrow and live at Orchards Farm. Orchards Farm, which she had always fancied the most beautiful place in the world, andbeside which her own home had seemed poor and small! Now all that hadchanged, and the more she thought of it the more she felt that she didnot want to leave the cottage. It had suddenly become dear andprecious; for all the things in it, even the meanest and smallest, seemed full of her mother's voice and presence. Orchards Farm was astrange country now, with nothing in it that her mother had loved orthat loved her, and to go there would be like going still farther fromher. Raising her eyes she looked round at the familiar room, at hermother's chair, at her own little stool, at the plants in the window. They all seemed to say: "Don't go, Lilac. It is better to stay here. "Must she go? Then suddenly she caught sight of the lilac crown lyingdusty and withered in a corner. It reminded her of a friend. "I'll askUncle Joshua, " she said to herself; "I'll go early to-morrow morning andask him. _He'll_ know. "

Joshua had a very decided opinion on the question placed before him nextday: Could Lilac live alone at the cottage and take in the washing asher mother used to do?

"I can reach the line quite easy if I stand on a stool, " she saidanxiously; "and Mrs Wishing, she'd help me wring. "

"Bless you, my maid, " he said, "you're not old enough to make a living, or strong enough, or wise enough yet. The proper place for you is yourUncle Greenways' house, till such time as you come to be older. "

"Mother, she always said, `Don't be beholden to no one. Stand on yourown feet. ' That's what she said ever so often, " faltered Lilac. 

The cobbler smiled as he looked at the slight little figure. "Well, youmust wait a bit. If Mother could speak to you now, she'd say as I do. And you won't be no farther from her at the farm; wherever and wheneveryou think of her and mind what she said, and how she liked you to act, that's her voice talking to you still. You listen and do as she bids, and that'll make her happier and you too. "

Joshua set to work again with feverish haste as he finished. He did notlike parting with Lilac, and it was difficult to say goodbye. Shelingered, looking wistfully at him. 

"You'll come and see me down yonder, won't you, Uncle Joshua?"

"Why, surely, surely, " replied Joshua hastily; "and you'll come and seeme. It ain't so far after all. Bless me!" he added with a testy glanceat the dusty pane in front of him, "what ails the window this morning?It don't give no light whatever. "

In a moment Lilac had fetched a duster and rubbed the little windowbright and clear. It was a small office she had often performed for thecobbler. 

"It wasn't, not to say very dirty, " she said; "but you'll have to do ityourself next time, Uncle Joshua. "

When she got back to the cottage, she felt a little comforted by thecobbler's words, although he had not fallen in with her plan. Whatcould she do at once, she wondered, that would please her mother? Shelooked round the room. It had a forlorn appearance. The doorstep, trodden by so many feet lately, was muddy, there was dust on thefurniture, and the floor had not been swept for days. Mother certainlywould not like that, and Lilac felt she could not leave it so anotherminute. With new energy she seized broom, brushes, and pail and went towork, going carefully into all the corners, and doing everything just asshe had been taught. Very soon it all looked like itself again, brightand orderly, and with a sigh of satisfaction she went upstairs to putherself "straight" before her aunt came. 

When there another idea struck her, for the moment she looked at theglass she remembered how Mother had hated the fringe. Surely she couldbrush it back now that her hair had grown longer. No, brush as hard asshe would it fell obstinately over her forehead again. But Lilac wasnot to be conquered. She scraped it back once more, and tied a piece ofribbon firmly round her head; then she nodded triumphantly at herself inthe glass. It was ugly, but anyhow it was neat. 

She had just finished this arrangement when a noise in the room belowwarned her of Mrs Greenways' approach, and running downstairs she foundher seated breathless in the high-backed chair. One foot was stretchedout appealingly in front of her, and she was so fatigued that at firstshe could only nod speechlessly at Lilac. 

"I'm fairly spent, " she said at last, "with that terr'ble hill. I can'twonder myself that your poor mother was taken so sudden with her heart, though she was always a spare figure. "

Lilac said nothing; the old feeling came back to her that it was someoneelse and not Mother who was spoken of. 

Mrs Greenways looked thoughtfully round the room; her eye rested oneach piece of furniture in turn. "They're good solid things, and wellkept, " she said. "I will say for Mary White as she knew how to keep herthings. We can do with a good many of 'em at the farm, " she went onafter a pause; "but I don't want to be cluttered up with furniture, andthe rest we must sell as it stands. "

Lilac's heart sank. She could not bear to think of any of Mother'sthings being sold, but she was too much in awe of her aunt to sayanything. 

"So I've come up this morning, " pursued Mrs Greenways, producing an oldenvelope and a stumpy pencil; "just to jot down what I want to keep. And when I've done here, and fetched my breath a little, I'll goupstairs and have a look round. "

Mrs Greenways made her list, and then with a businesslike air tiedpieces of tape on all the things she had chosen. Lilac saw with dismaythat her own little stool and the high-backed chair were left out. Itwas almost like leaving two old friends behind. 

"Have you packed your clothes?" asked Mrs Greenways. 

"No, Aunt, not yet, " said Lilac. 

"Well, I shall have to send Ben up with the cart this afternoon for yourbox, so you may as well come alonger him. And mind this, Lilac. Don'tyou go bringin' any litter and rubbish with you. Jest your clothes andno more, and your Bible and Prayer Book. And now I'll go upstairs. "

Mrs Greenways went upstairs, followed meekly by Lilac. She watchedpassively while her aunt punched all the mattresses, placed a searchingfinger beneath every sheet and blanket, sat down in the chairs, andfinally examined every article of Mrs White's wardrobe. "'Tain't anyof it much good to me, " she said, holding up a cotton gown to the light. "They're all cut so antiquated, and she was never anything of a figure. You may as well keep 'em, Lilac, and they'll come in for you later. "

It made Lilac's heart ache sorely to see her mother's clothes in MrsGreenways' hands turned about and talked over. There was one gown inparticular, with a blue spot. Mrs White had worn it on that last Maymorning when she had stood at the gate, and it seemed almost a part ofher. When her aunt dropped it carelessly on the ground after her lastremark, Lilac picked it up and held it closely to her. 

"And her Sunday bonnet now, " continued Mrs Greenways discontentedly. "All the ribbons is fresh and it's a good straw, but I don't suppose Ishall look anything but a scarecrow in it. "

She perched it on her head as she spoke, and turned about before theglass. 

"'Tain't so bad, " she murmured, with a glance at Lilac for approval. There was no answer; for to her great surprise Mrs Greenways found thather niece had hidden her face in the blue cotton gown she held to herbreast, and was sobbing quietly. 

Mrs Greenways was a kind-hearted woman in spite of her coarse nature. She could not exactly see what had made Lilac cry just now, but she wentup to her and spoke soothingly. 

"There, there, " she said, "it's natural to take on, but you'll be bettersoon, when you get down to the farm alonger Agnetta. You must think ofall you've got to be thankful for. And now I should relish a cup o'tea, for I started away early; so we'll go down and you'll get it forme, I dessay. I brought a little in my pocket in case you should be outof it. I shouldn't wonder if Bella was able to give this a bit ofstyle, "--taking off the bonnet. "She's wonderful clever with herfingers. "

Mrs Greenways drank her tea, made Lilac take some and eat some breadand butter, which she wished to refuse but dared not. 

"Now you feel better, don't you?" she said good-naturedly. "And beforeI start off home, Lilac, I've got a word to say, and that is that I hopeyou're proper and thankful for all your uncle's going to do for you. "

"Yes, Aunt, " said Lilac. 

"If it wasn't for him, you know, there'd only be the house for you to goto. Just think o' that! What a disgrace it 'ud be! It's a greatexpense to have an extry mouth to feed and a growing girl to clothe inthese bad times, but we must put up with it. "

"I can work, Aunt, " said Lilac. "I can do lots of things. "

"Well, I hope you'll do what you can, " replied Mrs Greenways. "Because, as you haven't a penny of your own, you ought to do summat inreturn for your uncle's charity. That's only fair and right, isn't it?"

Her mother's words came into Lilac's mind: "Don't be beholden to noone. "

"I don't mind work, Aunt, " she repeated more boldly. "I'd rather work. Mother, she always taught me to. "

"Well, that's a good thing, " said Mrs Greenways. "Because, now you'releft so desolate, you've got nothing to look to but your own hands andfeet. But as to being any help--you're small and young, you see, andyou can't be anything but a burden to us for years to come. "

A burden! That was a new idea to Lilac. 

"And so, " finished Mrs Greenways, rising, "I hope as how you'll be agood gal, and grateful, and always remember that if it wasn't for usyou'd be on the parish, instead of at Orchards Farm. "

She made her way out of the door, and stopped at the garden gate to callback over her shoulder:

"Mind and bring no rubbish along with you. Nothing but clothes. "

Lilac's tears dropped fast into the painted deal box as she packed hersmall stock of clothes. But she felt that she must not wait to cry; shemust be ready by the time Ben came, and her aunt's visit had been solong that it was already late. When she had finished she wentdownstairs to take a last look round. There stood all the well-knownpieces of furniture, dumb, yet full of speech; they had seen and heardso much that was dear to her, that it seemed cruel to leave them tostrangers. Above all she looked wistfully at a small twisted cactus ina pot standing on the window ledge. Mrs White had been fond of it, andhad given it much care and attention. Might she venture to take it withher? How pleased Mother had been, she remembered, when the cactus hadonce rewarded her by producing two bright-red blossoms. That was longago, and it had never done anything so brilliant again. Content withits one effort it had since remained unadorned, yet as it stood there, with its fat green leaves and little bunches of prickles, it had the airof saying to itself, "I have done it once, and if I liked I could do ita second time. " Even now as she bent tenderly over it Lilac thought shecould make out the faint beginning of a bud. 

"I do wish I could take it, " she said to herself. "If it was only inbloom maybe they'd like it. "

But the cactus was very far from blooming, and perhaps had no intentionof doing so; in its present condition it would certainly be considered"rubbish" at Orchards Farm. 

Lilac turned from it with a sigh, and glancing through the window wasstartled to see that the cart with Ben sitting in it was already at thegate. Ben looked as though he might have been waiting there for somehours, and was content to wait for any length of time. She ran out inalarm. 

"Oh, Ben!" she cried, "I never heard you. Have you been here long?"

"Not I, " said Ben; "on'y just come. Missus she give orders as how I wasto fetch down some cheers alonger you, so as to lighten the next load abit. "

By the time he had slowly stacked the chairs together, and disposed themround Lilac's box in the cart, which cost him much painful thought, there was not much room left. 

"Now then, missie, " he said at length, "that's the lot, ain't it?"

"Where am I to sit, Ben?" asked Lilac doubtfully. Ben took off his hatto scratch his head. He had a perfectly round, foolish face, with shortdust-coloured whiskers. 

"That's so, " he said. "I clean forgot you was to go too. "

A corner was at last found amongst the chairs, and Ben having hoistedhimself on to the shaft they started slowly on their way. Lilac kepther eyes fixed on the cottage until a turn of the road hid it from hersight. It was just there she had turned to look at Mother on May Day. What a long, long time ago, and what a different Lilac she felt now!Grave and old, with all manner of cares and troubles waiting for her, and no one to mind if she were glad or sorry. No one to want her muchor to be pleased at her coming. A burden instead of a blessing. Sheclung to the hope that Agnetta at least would not think her so, butwould welcome her to her new home and be kind to her; but she was theonly one of whom she thought without shrinking. Her aunt and uncle, Bella and Peter, above all the last, were people to be afraid of. 

"Here's the young master, " said Ben, suddenly turning his face round tolook at her. "He be coming up to fetch the rest of the sticks. "

Lilac peeped out through the various legs of chairs which surroundedher; towards her, crawling slowly up the hill, came a wagon drawn bythree iron-grey horses, and by their side a broad-shouldered, lumberingfigure. It was her Cousin Peter. Of course it was Peter, she thoughtimpatiently, turning her head away. No one else would walk up the hillinstead of riding in the empty wagon. The descent now becoming easierBen whipped up his horse, and they soon jolted past Peter and his team. 

"There's been a sight o' deaths lately in the village, " he resumedcheerfully, having once broken the silence. "I dunno as I can ever callto mind so many. The bell's forever agoin'. It's downright mournful. "

He was kindly disposed towards Lilac, and having hit upon this luckymeans of entertaining her he dwelt on it for the rest of the way, fortunately requiring no answering remarks. It seemed long before theyreached the farm, and Lilac was cramped and tired in her uneasy positionwhen they had at last driven in at the yard gate. There was no one tobe seen; but presently Molly, the servant girl, having spied the arrivalfrom the back kitchen, came and stood at the door. When she discoveredLilac almost hidden by the chairs, she hastened out and held up a broadred hand to help her down from the cart. 

"You've brought yer house on yer back like a hoddy-dod, " she said with agrin. 

Lilac clambered down with difficulty, and stood by the side of the cartuncertain where to go. A forlorn little figure in her straight blackfrock, clasping her mother's large old cotton umbrella. She wished shecould see Agnetta, but she did not appear. Soon her aunt and Bella cameinto the yard, but their attention was immediately fixed on the chairs, which Ben had now unloaded and placed in a long row by Lilac's side. 

"Where were they to go?" asked Molly. 

In the living-room, Mrs Greenways thought, where they were short ofchairs. 

"In the bedrooms, " said Bella contemptuously. "Common-looking thingslike them. "

"We could do with 'em in the kitchen, " added Molly. 

The dispute continued for some time, but in the end Bella carried theday, and Mrs Greenways found time to notice the newcomer. 

"Well, here you are, Lilac, " she said. "Come along in, and Agnettashall show where you've got to sleep. "

Agnetta led the way up the steep stairs to the top of the house. Shehad rather a condescending manner as she threw open the door of a smallattic in the roof. 

"This is it, " she said; "and Mamma says you've got to keep it cleanyerself. "

"I'd rather, " said Lilac hastily. "I've always been used to. "

She looked round the room. It was very like her old one at the cottage, and its sloping ceiling and bare white walls seemed familiar andhomelike; it was a comfort, too, to see that its tiny window lookedtowards the hills. As she observed all this she took off her bonnet, and was immediately startled by a loud laugh from Agnetta. 

"Well!" she exclaimed, "You have made a pretty guy of yourself. "

Lilac put her hand quickly up to her head. 

"Oh, I forgot--my hair, " she said. 

"Whatever made you do it?" asked Agnetta, planting herself full in frontof her cousin and staring at her. 

"It's neater, " said Lilac, avoiding the hard gaze. "I shall wear it sotill it gets longer. I'm not agoin' to have a fringe no more. "

"Well!" repeated Agnetta, lost in astonishment; then she added:

"You do look comical! Just like a general servant. If I was you I'dwear a cap!"

With this parting thrust she clattered downstairs giggling. So this wasLilac's welcome. She went to the window, leant her arms on the broadsill, and looked forlornly up at the hill. There was not a singleperson who wanted her here, or who had taken the trouble to say a kindword. How could she bear to live here always?

"Li-lack!" shrieked a voice up the stairs, "you're to come to tea. "

Through the meal that followed Lilac sat shyly silent, feeling thatevery morsel choked her, and listening to the clatter of voices andteacups round her but hardly hearing any words. The farmer had noticedher presence by a nod, and then resumed his newspaper. He meant to dohis duty by Mary's girl until she was old enough to go to service, butno one could expect him to be glad of her arrival. Another uselessmember of the family to support, where there were already too many. Peter was not there at first, but when the meal was nearly over Lilacheard the wagon roll heavily into the yard, and soon afterwards itsmaster came almost as heavily into the room and took his place at thetable. When there he eat largely and silently, taking huge draughts oftea out of a great mug. This was one of his many vulgarities, whichBella deplored but could not alter, for he required so much tea that acup was a ridiculous and useless thing to him, and had to be filled sooften that it gave a great deal of trouble--in this therefore he wasallowed to have his way. 

When Lilac got into her attic that night she found that her deal box hadbeen carried up and placed in one corner, and as she began to undress inthe half-light she caught sight of something else which certainly hadnot been there before. Something standing in the window twisted andprickly, but to her most pleasant to look upon. Could it really be thecactus? She went up to it, half afraid to find that she was mistaken. No, it was not fancy, the cactus was there, and Lilac was so pleased tosee its ugly friendly face that tears came into her eyes. She had founda little bit of kindness at last at Orchards Farm, and it no longer feltquite so cold and strange. Peter no doubt had brought the plant downfrom the cottage, but who had told him to do it? Her aunt, or Agnetta, or perhaps after all it was Uncle Joshua as usual. 

Whoever it was Lilac felt very grateful, and went to sleep comfortedwith the thought that there was something in the room which had livedher old life and known her mother's care, though it was only a cactusplant. 

CHAPTER SEVEN. 

ORCHARDS FARM. 

 "For a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal where there is no love. "--_Bacon_. 

"I like this one best, " said Lilac. 

She was looking in at the shed where Ben was milking the cows atOrchards Farm. 

Inside it was dusky and cool. There was a sweet smell of hay and newmilk, and it was very quiet, the silence only disturbed when animpatient cow stamped her foot or swished her tail at the flies, and wasreproved by Ben's deep-toned, "Woa then, stand still. " But outside itwas very different, for the afternoon sun was still hot and dazzling, and all the farmyard creatures were conversing cheerfully together inmany keys and voices. A tall white cock had perched himself tiptoe on agate, crowing in a shrilly triumphant manner, the ducks were quacking ina sociable chorus, and Chummy, the great black sow, lying stretched onher side in the sun, kept up an undertone of deeply comfortable grunts. 

Lilac leant against the doorpost, now looking in at Ben and his cows, and now at the sunshiny strawyard. She felt tired and languid, as shevery often did at the end of the day, although the work at Orchards Farmwas no harder than she had always been used to at home. There, however, it had been done in peace and quietness, here all was hurry andconfusion. It was a new and distracting thing to live in the midst ofwrangling disputes, to be called here, shouted after there, to do bitsof everyone's business, and to be scolded for leaving undone what shehad never been told to do. Altogether a heavy change from her oldpeaceful life, and she could not settle her mind to it with any comfort. "'Tain't the work, it's the worry I mind, " she said once to Agnetta;but Agnetta only stared and laughed. There was no consolation at all tobe found in her, and all Lilac's hopes concerning her were disappointedas time went on. She was the same and Orchards Farm was the same asthey had been in the old days when Lilac had worshipped them from adistance; but somehow, seen quite near this glory vanished, and thoughthe stylish Sunday frocks and bangles remained, they were worth nothingcompared to a little sympathy and kindness. Alas! these were not to behad. Lilac must stand on her own feet now, as her mother had told her:everyone was too full of their own troubles and interests and enjoymentsto have any thought for her. What could she need beyond a roof over herhead, food to eat, and clothes to wear? Mrs Greenways and all theneighbours thought her a lucky child, and told her so very often; butLilac did not feel lucky, she felt sad and very lonely. After one ortwo attempts to talk to Agnetta, she resolved, however, to keep hertroubles to herself, for Agnetta did not "understand. " Who was therenow to understand? None in the wide world but Uncle Joshua, and fromhim she felt as far distant as though he were in another country. Shebecame in this way, as time went on, more silent, graver, and more whather cousins called "old-fashioned"; and though at heart she was far morechildlike than they, she went about her work with serious applicationlike one of twice her years. Mrs Greenways did not disapprove of this, and though she lost no occasion of impressing upon Lilac her smallnessand uselessness, she soon began to find her valuable in the house: itwas a new thing to have someone there who was steady and thorough in herwork, and might be depended on to do it without constant reproof. Shewas satisfied, too, that Lilac had quite got over her grief, and did notseem to miss her mother so much as might have been expected. It wouldbe troublesome to see the child fret and pine, and as no sign of thisappeared she concluded it was not there. Mrs Greenways was accustomedto the sort of sorrow which shows itself in violent tears andcomplaints, and she would have been surprised if she could have knownhow Lilac's lonely little heart ached sometimes for the sound of hermother's voice or the sight of her face; how at night, when she was shutsafely into her attic, she would stretch out her arms towards thecottage on the hill, and long vainly for the days to come back which shehad not loved half well enough while they were passing. But no one knewthis, and amidst the turmoil and bustle of the day no one guessed howlonely she was or thought of her much in any way. She was only littleLilac White, an orphan who had been fortunate enough to get a good home. So she lived her own life, solitary, although surrounded by people; andwhile she worked her mind was full of her mother's memory--sometimes sheeven seemed to hear her words again, and to see her smile of pleasurewhen she had done anything particularly well. She was careful, therefore, not to relax her efforts in the least, and though she got nopraise for the thoroughness of her work, it was a little bit of comfortat the end of the day to think that she had "pleased Mother. "

It began soon to be a pleasure, too, when work was finished, to go outamongst the creatures in the farmyard. Here she forgot her troubles andher loneliness for a little while, and made many satisfactoryfriendships in which there were no disappointments. True, there wasplenty of noise and bustle here as well as indoors, and family quarrelswere not wanting amongst the poultry; but unlike the sharp speeches ofBella and Agnetta they left no bad feeling behind, and were soon settledby a few pecks and flaps. Lilac was sure of a welcome when she appearedat the gate to distribute the small offerings she had collected for hervarious friends during the day; bits of bread, sugar, or crusts--nothingcame amiss, and even the great lazy Chummy would waddle slowly across toher from the other end of the yard. By degrees Lilac began to lookforward to the end of the day, when she should meet these friends, andfound great comfort in the thought that they expected her and looked outfor her coming. Especially she liked to be present at milking-time, andas often as she possibly could she stole out of the house at this hourto spend a few quiet moments with Ben and his cows. 

On this particular afternoon she saw that there was one among them shehad not noticed before--a little cream-coloured Alderney, with slenderblack legs and dark eyes. 

"I like that one best of all, " she said, pointing to it. 

Ben's voice sounded hollow as he answered, and seemed to come out of themiddle of the cow, for his head was pressed firmly against her side. 

"Ah, she's a sort of a little fancy coo, she is, " he said; "she belongsto the young master. He thinks a lot of her. `We'll call this oneNone-so-pretty, ' says he, when he brung her home. "

"Why does it belong to him, " asked Lilac, "more than the other cows?"

"Well, it were like this 'ere, " said Ben, who was fond of company andalways willing to talk. "This is how it wur. None-so-pretty she caughtcold when she'd bin here a couple of weeks, and the master he sent forcoo-doctor. And coo-doctor come and says: `She's in a pretty plight, 'says he; `information of the lungs she's got, and you'll never get herthrough it. A little dillicut scrap of a animal like that, ' he says;'she ain't not to say fit for this part of the country! An' so he goesaway, and the coo gets worse, so as it's a misery to see her. "

Ben stopped so long in his story to quiet None-so-pretty, who wanted tokick over the pail, that Lilac had to put another question. 

"How did she get well?"

"It wur along of the young master, " answered Ben, "as sat up with her aweek o' nights, and poured her drink down her throat, and poletissed herchest, and cockered her up like as if she'd bin a human Christian. Andhe brung her through. Like a skilliton she wur at fust, but she pickedup after a bit and got saucy again. An' ever sin that she'll foller himand rub her head agin' him, and come to his whistle like a dog. An' sothe old master, he says: `The little cow's yer own now, Peter, to do asyou like with, ' he says; `no one else'd a had the patience to bring herthrough. An' if you'll take my advice you'll sell her, for she'll neverbe much good to us. '"

"But Peter wouldn't sell her, I suppose?" asked Lilac eagerly. 

"No fear, " replied Ben's muffled voice; "he's martal fond ofNone-so-pretty. "

Lilac looked with great interest at the little cow. An odd pair offriends--she and Peter--and as unlike as they could possibly be, forNone-so-pretty was as graceful and slender in her proportions as he wasclumsy and awkward-limbed. It was a good thing that there was someoneto admire and like Peter, even if it were only a cow; for Lilac had notbeen a month at the farm without beginning to feel a little pity forhim. He was uncouth and stupid, to be sure, but it was hard, shethought, that he should be so incessantly worried and jeered at. Fromthe moment he entered the house to the moment he left it, there wassomething wrong in what he said or did. If he sat down on the settleand wearily stretched out his long legs, someone was sure to tumble overthem: "Peter, how stupid you are!" If he opened his mouth to speak hesaid something laughable, and if to eat, there was something vulgar inhis manners which called down a sharp reproof from Bella, who consideredherself a model of refinement and good taste. He took all this inunmoved silence, and seldom said a word except to talk to his father onfarming matters; but Lilac, looking on from her quiet corner, often feltsorry for him, as she would have done to see any large, patient animalill-treated and unable to complain. 

"Anyhow, " she said to herself as she stood with her eyes fixed onNone-so-pretty after Ben had done his story, "if he is common he'skind. "

Her reflections were disturbed by Ben's voice making another remark, which came from the side of a large red cow named Cherry:

"There's not a better lot of coos, nor richer milk than what they give, this side Lenham. " Lilac made no answer. 

"An' if so be as the dairy wur properly worked they'd most pay the rentof this 'ere farm, with the poultry thrown in. "

Lilac glanced at the various feathered families outside; they weresupposed to be Bella's charge, she knew, but she generally gave themover to Agnetta, who looked after them when she was inclined, and oftenforgot to search for the eggs altogether. 

"They wants care, " continued Ben, "as well as most things. I don't nameno names, but the young broods had ought to be better looked after inthe spring. And they're worth it. There's ducks now--chancy things isearly ducks, but they pay well. Git 'em hatched out early. Feed 'emoften. Keep 'em warm and dry at fust. Let 'em go into the water at theright time. Kill 'em and send 'em up to Lunnon, and there you are--agood profit. Why, you'll git 15 shillings the couple for ducklings inMarch! That's not a price to sneeze at, that isn't. I name no names, "he repeated mysteriously, "but them as don't choose to take the painscan't expect the profit. "

At supper that night Lilac remembered this conversation with Ben, andexamined Peter's countenance curiously as he sat opposite to her withhis whole being apparently engrossed by the meal. She could not, however, discover any kind or pleasant expression upon it. If it werethere at all, it was unable to struggle through the thick dull maskspread over it. Bella meanwhile had news to tell. She had heard atDimbleby's that afternoon that there was to be a grand fete in Lenhamnext week. Fireworks and a balloon, and perhaps dancing and a band. Charlotte Smith said it would be splendid, and she was going to have anew hat on purpose. 

"Well, I haven't got no money to throw away on new hats and suchlike, "said Mrs Greenways, "but I s'pose you and Agnetta'll want to go too. "

"How'll we get over there?" asked Bella, looking fixedly at Peter, whodid not raise his eyes from his plate. Mrs Greenways turned her glancein the same direction, and said presently:

"Well, perhaps Peter he could drive you over in the spring cart. "

"Hay harvest, " muttered Peter, deep down in his mug; "couldn't sparetime. "

"Oh, bother, " said Bella. "Then we must do with Ben. "

"Couldn't spare him neither, " was Peter's answer. "Heavy crop. Wantall the hands we can get. "

Bella pouted and Agnetta looked on the edge of tears. Mrs Greenways, anxious to settle matters comfortably, made another suggestion. 

"Well, you must just drive yourselves then, Bella. The white horse isquiet. I've drove him often. "

"Couldn't spare the horse neither, " said Peter, "nor yet the cart, " andhaving finished both his meal and the subject he got up and went out ofthe room. 

The farmer, roused by the sound of the dispute from a nap in the windowseat, now enquired what was going on, and was told of the difficulty. 

"What's to prevent 'em walking?" he asked; "it's only five miles. Ifthey're too proud to walk they'd better stop at home, " and then he tooleft the room. 

"You don't catch _me_ walking!" exclaimed Bella; "if I can't drive Ishan't go at all. Getting all hot and dusty, and Charlotte Smithdriving past us on the road with her head held up ever so high. "

"No more shan't I, " said Agnetta, with a toss of her head. 

"Well, there, we'll see if we can't manage somehow, " said Mrs Greenwayscoaxingly. "If the weather's good for the hay harvest your father'll bein a good temper, and we'll see what we can do. Lilac!" she added, turning sharply to her niece, "Molly's left out some bits of washing inthe orchard, jest you run and fetch 'em in. "

Lilac picked up her sunbonnet and went out, glancing at Agnetta to seeif she were coming too, but she did not move. It was a cool, stillevening after a very hot day, and all the flowers in the garden wereholding up their drooping heads again, and giving out their sweetestscent as if in thankfulness for the change. There were a great many inbloom now, for it was June, more than a whole month since that happy, miserable day when Lilac had been Queen, and as she passed Peter's ownlittle bit of ground she stopped to look admiringly at them. Theyseemed to grow here better than in other places--with a willingluxuriance as though in return for the affection and care which wasevidently spent on them. Pansies, columbines, white-fringed pinks, andsweet-peas all mixed up together, and yet keeping a certain order andnot allowed to intrude upon each other. Lilac passed on through alittle gate which led into the kitchen garden, and as she did so becameaware that the owner of the flowers was quite near. She paused andconsidered within herself as to whether she should speak to him. He wassitting on the stump of a cherry tree, which had been cut down to aconvenient height from the ground; on this was placed a square piece ofturf, so that it formed a cushion, and was evidently a customary seat. Near him was a row of beehives, under a slanting thatch, and their busyinhabitants, returning in numbers from their day's labour, hummed andbuzzed around him, much to the annoyance of Sober, the old sheep dog, who lay stretched at his feet. Tib, the ugly cat, had taken up adiscreet position at a little distance from the hives, and sat very wideawake, with the only eye she possessed on the alert for any stray gamethat might pass that way. 

Neither Peter nor his companions saw Lilac; they all appeared absorbedin their own reflections, and the former had fixed his gaze vacantly onthe copse beyond the orchard. A little while ago she would have passedquickly on without a moment's hesitation, but now she felt a sort ofsympathy with Peter. She was lonely, and he was lonely; besides, he hadbeen kind to None-so-pretty. So presently she made a little rustle, which roused Sober from his slumbers. He raised his head, and findingthat it was a friend wagged his bushy tail and resumed his formerposition; but this roused Peter too, and he slowly turned his eyes uponLilac and stared silently. Knowing that it would be useless to wait forhim to speak, she said timidly:

"How pretty your pinks grow!"

Peter got up from his seat and looked seriously over the railing at thepinks. 

"They're well enough, " he said; "but the slugs and snails torment 'emso. "

"I think they're as pretty as can be, " said Lilac; "and that sweet youcan smell 'em ever so far. We had some up yonder, " she added, with anod towards the hills, "but they never had such blooms as yours. "

"Maybe you'd like a posy, " said Peter, suddenly blurting out the wordswith a great effort. 

Receiving a delighted answer in the affirmative he fumbled for some timein his pocket, and having at last produced a large clasp knife bent overhis flower bed. 

The conversation having got on so far, Lilac felt encouraged to continueit, and looked round her for a subject. 

"This is a nice, pretty corner to sit in, " she said; "but don't the beesterrify you?"

Peter straightened himself up with the flowers he had cut in one hand, and stared in surprise. 

"The bees!" he repeated. 

He strode up to the hives, took up a handful of bees and let them crawlabout him, which they did without any sign of anger. 

"Why ever don't they sting yer?" asked Lilac, shrinking away. 

"They know I like 'em, " answered Peter, returning to his flowers. "Theyknow a lot, bees do. "

"I s'pose they're used to see you sitting here?" said Lilac. 

Peter nodded. "They're rare good comp'ny too, " he said, "when you canfollow their carryings on, and know what they're up to. "

Lilac watched him thoughtfully as his large hand moved carefully amongstthe flowers, cutting the best blossoms and adding them to the nosegay, which now began to take the shape of a large fan. 

While he had been talking of the bees his face had lost its dullness; hehad not looked stupid at all, and scarcely ugly. She would try and makehim speak again. 

"The blossoms is over now, " she remarked, looking at the trees in theorchard; "but there's been a rare sight of 'em this year. "

"There has so, " answered Peter. "It'll be a fine season for the fruitif so be as we get sun to ripen it. The birds is the worst, " he wenton. "I've seen them old jaypies come out of the woods yonder as thickas thieves into the orchard. I don't seem to care about shootin' 'em, and scarecrows is no good. "

What a long sentence for Peter!

"Do they now?" said Lilac sympathisingly. "An' I s'pose, " stroking Tibon the head, "they don't mind Tib neither?"

"Not they, " said Peter, with something approaching a chuckle. "They'realtogether too many for _her_. "

"She's not a _pretty_ cat, " said Lilac doubtfully. 

"Well, n-no, " said Peter, turning round to look at Tib with some regretin his tone. "She ain't not to say exactly pretty, but she's a rare onefor rats. Ain't ye, Tib?"

As if in reply Tib rose, fixed her front claws in the ground, andstretched her long lean body. She was not pretty, the most favourablejudge could not have called her so. Her coat was harsh and wiry, herhead small and mean, with ears torn and scarred in many battles. Herone eye, fiercely green, seemed to glare in an unnaturally piercingmanner, but this was only because she was always on the lookout for herenemies--the rats. To complete her forlorn appearance she had only halfa tail, and it was from this loss that her friendship with Peter dated, for he had rescued her from a trap. 

He seemed now to feel that her character needed defence, for he went onafter a pause:

"She'll sit an' watch for 'em to come out of the ricks by the hour, without ever tasting food. Better nor any tarrier she is at it. "

"Ben says the rats is awful bad, " said Lilac. "They're that boldthey'll steal the eggs, and scare off the hens when they're setting. "

"They do that, " replied Peter, shaking his head. "The poultry wantsseeing to badly; but Bella she don't seem to take to it, nor yetAgnetta, and our hands is full outside. "

"I like the chickens and ducks and things, " said Lilac. "I wish Aunt'dlet me take 'em in hand. "

Peter reared himself up from his bent position, and holding the bignosegay in one hand looked gravely down at his cousin. 

It was a good long distance from his height to Lilac, and she seemedwonderfully small and slender and delicately coloured as she stood therein her straight black frock and long pinafore. She had taken off hersun bonnet, so that her little white face with all the hair fastenedback from it was plainly to be seen. It struck Peter as strange thatsuch a small creature should talk of taking any more work "in hand"besides what she had to do already. 

"You hadn't ought to do hard work, " he said at length; "you haven't gotthe strength. "

"I don't mind the work, " said Lilac, drawing up her little figure. "I'mstronger nor what I look. 'Taint the work as I mind--" She stopped, andher eyes filled suddenly with tears. 

Peter saw them with the greatest alarm. Somehow with his usualstupidity he had made his cousin cry. All he could do now was to takehimself away as quickly as possible. He went up to Sober and touchedhim gently with his foot. 

"Come along, old chap, " he said. "We've got to look after the lambsyonder. "

Without another word or a glance at Lilac he rolled away through theorchard with the dog at his heels, his great shoulders plunging alongthrough the trees, and Lilac's gay bunch of flowers swinging in onehand. He had quite forgotten to give it to her. 

She looked after him in surprise, with the tears still in her eyes. Then a smile came. 

"He's a funny one surely, " she said to herself. "Why ever did he makeoff like that?"

There was no one to answer except Tib, who had jumped up into a tree andlooked down at her with the most complete indifference. 

"Anyway, he means to be kind, " concluded Lilac, "and it's a shame toflout him as they do, so it is. "

CHAPTER EIGHT. 

ONLY A CHILD!

 "Who is the honest man? He who doth still and strongly good pursue, To God, his neighbour and himself most true, Whom neither force nor fawning can Unpin or wrench from giving all his due. " _G. Herbert_. 

Joshua Snell had by no means forgotten his little friend Lilac. Therewere indeed many occasions in his solitary life when he missed her agreat deal, and felt that his days were duller. For on her way to andfrom school she had been used to pay him frequent visits, if only for afew moments at a time, dust his room, clean the murky little window, andbring him a bunch of flowers or a dish of gossip. 

In this way she was a link between him and the small world of Danecrossdown below; and in spite of his literary pursuits Joshua by no meansdespised news of his neighbour's affairs, though he often received itwith a look of indifference. Besides this, her visits gave him anopportunity for talking, which was a great pleasure to him, and one inwhich he was seldom able to indulge, except on Saturdays when hetravelled down to the bar of the "Three Bells" for an hour'sconversation. He was also fond of Lilac for her own sake, and anxiousto know if she were comfortable and happy in her new home. 

He soon began, therefore, to look out eagerly for her as he sat at work;but no little figure appeared, and he said to himself, "I shall see hero' Sunday at church. " But this expectation was also disappointed, andhe learned from Bella Greenways that Lilac and Agnetta were to go in theevenings, it was more convenient. Joshua could not do that; it had beenhis settled habit for years to stay at home on Sunday evening, and itwas impossible to alter it. So it came to pass that a whole month wentby and he had not seen her once. Then he said to himself, "If so be asthey won't let her come to me, I reckon I must go and see her. " And helocked up his cottage one evening and set out for the farm. Joshua wasa welcome guest everywhere, in spite of his poverty and lowly station;even at the Greenways', who held their heads so high, and did not "mix", as Bella called it, with the "poor people. " This was partly because ofhis learning, which in itself gave him a position apart, and alsobecause he had a certain dignity of character which comes ofself-respect and simplicity wherever they are found. Mrs Greenways wasindeed a little afraid of him, and as anxious to make the best ofherself in his presence as she was in that of her rector and landlord, Mr Leigh. 

"Why, you're quite a stranger, Mr Snell, " she said when he appeared onthis occasion. "Now sit down, do, and rest yourself, and have a glassof something or a cup of tea. "

Joshua being comfortably settled with a mug of cider at his elbow shecontinued:

"Greenways is over at Lenham, and Peter's out on the farm somewheres, but I expect they'll be in soon. "

The cobbler waited for some mention of Lilac, but as none came heproceeded to make polite enquiries about other matters, such as thecrops and the live stock, and the chances of good weather for the hay. He would not ask for her yet, he thought, because it might look asthough he had no other reason for coming. 

"And how did you do with your ducks this season, Mrs Greenways, ma'am?"he said. 

"Why, badly, " replied Mrs Greenways in a mortified tone; "I never knewsuch onlucky broods. A cow got into the orchard and trampled down one. Fifteen as likely ducklings as you'd wish to see. And the rats scaredoff a hen just as she'd hatched out; and we lost a whole lot more withthe cramp. "

"H'm, h'm, h'm, " said the cobbler sympathisingly, "that was bad, thatwas. And you ought to do well with your poultry in a fine place likethis too. "

"Well, we don't, " said Mrs Greenways, rather shortly; "and that's allabout it. "

"They want a lot of care, poultry does, " said Joshua reflectively; "alot of care. I know a little what belongs to the work of a farm. Yearsafore I came to these parts I used to live on one. "

"Then p'r'aps you know what a heart-breaking, back-breaking, wearing-outlife it is, " burst out poor Mrs Greenways. "All plague an' no profit, that's what it is. It's drive, drive, drive, morning, noon, and night, and all to be done over again the next day. You're never through withit. "

"Ah! I dessay, " said Joshua soothingly; "but there's your daughtersnow. They take summat off your hands, I s'pose? And that reminds me. There's little White Lilac, as we used to call her, --you find her ahandy sort of lass, don't you?"

"She's well enough in her way, " said Mrs Greenways. "I don't neverregret giving her a home, and I know my duty to Greenways' niece; but asfor use--she's a child, Mr Snell, and a weakly little thing too, aslooks hardly fit to hold a broom. "

"Well, well, well, " said Joshua, "every little helps, and I expectyou'll find her more use than you think for. Even a child is known byits doings, as Solomon says. "

Mrs Greenways interposed hastily, for she feared the beginning of whatshe called Joshua's "preachments. "

"You'd like to have seen her, maybe; but she's gone with Agnetta to theVicarage to take some eggs. Mrs Leigh likes to see the gals now andthen. "

Joshua made his visit as long as he could in the hope of Lilac's return, but she did not appear, and at last he could wait no longer. 

"Well, I'll go and have a look round for Peter, " he said; "and p'r'apsyou'll send Lilac up one day to see me. She was always a favourite ofmine, was Lilac White. And I'd a deal of respect for her poor mothertoo. Any day as suits your convenience. "

"Oh, she can come any day as for that, Mr Snell, " replied MrsGreenways with a little toss of her head. "It doesn't make no differ ina house whether a child like that goes or stays. She's plenty of timeon her hands. "

"That's settled then, ma'am, " said Joshua, "and I shall be looking tosee her soon. "

He made his farewell, leaving Mrs Greenways not a little annoyed thatno mention had been made of Agnetta in this invitation. 

"Not that she'd go, " she said to herself, "but he might a asked her aswell as that little bit of a Lilac. "

It was quite a long time before she found it possible to allow Lilac tomake this visit, for although she was small and useless and made nodiffer in the house, there were a wonderful number of things for her todo. Lilac's work increased; other people beside Mrs Greenwaysdiscovered the advantage of her willing hands, and were glad to put someof their own business into them. 

Thus the care of the poultry, which had been shuffled off Bella'sshoulders on to Agnetta, now descended from her to Lilac, the number ofeggs brought in much increasing in consequence. Lilac liked this partof her daily task; she was proud to discover the retired corners andlurking-places of the hens, and fill her basket with the brown and pinkeggs. Day by day she took more interest in her feathered family, andbegan to find distinguishing marks of character or appearance in each, she even made plans to defeat the inroads of the rats by coaxing hercharges to lay their eggs in the barn, where they were more secure. "Hens is sillier than most things, " said Ben, when she confided herdifficulties to him; "what they've done once they'll do allers, it's nogood fightin' with 'em. " He consented, however, to nail some boardsover the worst holes in the barn, and by degrees, after infinitepatience, Lilac succeeded in making some of the hens desert their oldhaunts and use their new abode. All this was encouraging. And aboutthis time a new interest indoors arose which made her life at OrchardsFarm less lonely, and was indeed an event of some importance to her. Ithappened in this way. Ever since her arrival she had watched theproceedings of Molly in the dairy with great attention. She had askedquestions about the butter-making until Molly was tired of answering, and had often begged to be allowed to help. This was never refused, although Molly opened her eyes wide at the length of time she took toclean and rinse and scour, and by degrees she was trusted with a gooddeal of the work. The day came when she implored to be allowed to do itall--just for once. Molly hesitated; she had as usual a hundred otherthings to do and would be thankful for the help, but was such a bit of athing to be trusted? On the whole, from her experience of Lilac sheconcluded that she was. 

"You won't let on to the missus as how you did it?" she said. And thisbeing faithfully promised, Lilac was left in quiet possession of thedairy. She felt almost as excited about that batch of butter as if herlife depended on it. Suppose it should fail? "But there!" she said toherself, "I won't think of that; I will make it do, " and she set to workcourageously. And now her habits of care and neatness and thoroughnessformed in past years came to her service, as well as her closeobservation of Molly. Nothing was hurried in the process, every smalldetail earnestly attended to, and at last trembling with excitement andtriumph she saw the result of her labours. The butter was a completesuccess. As she stood in the cool dark dairy with the firm golden patsbefore her, each bearing the sharply-cut impression of the stamp, Lilacclasped her hands with delight. She had not known such a proud momentin all her life, except on the day when she had been Queen. And thiswas a different sort of pride, for it was joy in her own handiwork--something she herself had done with no one to help her. "Oh, " she saidto herself, "if Mother could but see that, how rare an' pleased she'dbe!" Maybe she did, but how silent it was without her voice to say"Well done", and how blank without her face to smile on her child'ssuccess. 

There was no one to sympathise but Molly, who came in presently withloud exclamations of surprise. 

"So you've got through? Lor'-a-mussy, what a handy little thing it is!And you won't ever let on to missus or any of 'em?"

Lilac never did "let on. " She kept Molly's secret faithfully, and sawher butter packed up and driven off to Lenham without saying a word. And from this time forward the making up of the butter, and sometimesthe whole process, was left in her hands. It was not easy work, for allthe things she had to use were too large and heavy for her small hands, and she had to stand on a stool to turn the handle of the big churn. But she liked it, and what she lacked in strength she made up in zeal;it was far more interesting than scrubbing floors and scouringsaucepans. Molly, too, was much satisfied with this new arrangement, for the dairy had always brought her more scolding from her mistressthan any part of her work, and all now went on much more smoothly. Lilac wondered sometimes that her aunt never seemed to notice how muchshe was in the dairy, or called her away to do other things; she alwaysspoke as if it were Molly alone who made the butter. In truth MrsGreenways knew all about it, and was very content to let matters go onas they were; but something within her, that old jealousy of Lilac andher mother, made it impossible for her to praise her niece for herservices. She could not do it without deepening the contrast betweenher own daughters and Lilac, which she felt, but would not acknowledgeeven to herself. So Lilac got no praise and no thanks for what she did, and though she found satisfaction in turning out the butter well for itsown sake, this was not quite enough. A very small word or look wouldhave contented her. Once when her uncle said: "The butter's good thisweek, " she thought her aunt must speak, and glanced eagerly at her, butMrs Greenways turned her head another way and no words come. Lilacfelt hurt and disappointed. 

It was a busier time than usual at the farm just now, though there wasalways plenty for everyone to do. It was hay harvest and there wereextra hands at work, extra cooking to do, and many journeys to be madeto and from the hayfield. Lilac was on the run from morning till night, and even Bella and Agnetta were obliged to bestir themselves a little. In the big field beyond the orchard where the grass had stood so talland waved its flowery heads so proudly, it was now lying low on theground in the bright hot sun. The sky was cloudless, and the farmer'sbrow had cleared a little too, for he had a splendid crop and everychance of getting it in well. 

"To-morrow's Lenham fete, " said Agnetta to Lilac one evening. 

"It's a pity but what you can go, " answered Lilac. 

"We are going, " said Agnetta triumphantly, "spite of Peter and Fatherbeing so contrary; and we ain't a-going to walk there neither!"

"How are you goin' to get there, then?" asked Lilac. 

"Mr Buckle, he's goin' to drive us over in his gig, " said Agnetta. "MyI shan't we cut a dash? Bella, she's goin' to wear her black silk doneup. We've washed it with beer and it rustles beautiful just like a newone. And she's got a hat turned up on one side and trimmed withGobelin. "

"What's that?" asked Lilac, very much interested. 

"It's the new blue, silly, " answered Agnetta disdainfully. Then sheadded: "My new parasol's got lace all round it, ever so deep. I expectwe shall be about the most stylish girls there. Won't Charlotte Smithstare!"

"I s'pose it's summat like a fair, isn't it?" asked Lilac. 

"Lor', no!" exclaimed Agnetta; "not a bit. Not near so vulgar. There'sa balloon, and a promnarde, and fireworks in the evening. "

All these things sounded mysteriously splendid to Lilac's unaccustomedears. She did not know what any of them meant, but they seemed all themore attractive. 

"You've got to be so sober and old-fashioned like, " continued Agnetta, "that I s'pose you wouldn't care to go even if you could, would you?You'd rather stop at home and work. "

"I'd like to go, " answered Lilac; "but Molly couldn't never get throughwith the work to-morrow if we was all to go. There's a whole lot todo. "

"Oh, of course you couldn't go, " said Agnetta loftily. "Bella and me'sdifferent. We're on a different footing. "

Agnetta had heard her mother use this expression, and though she wouldhave been puzzled to explain it, it gave her an agreeable sense ofsuperiority to her cousin. 

In spite of soberness and gravity, Lilac felt not a little envious thenext day when Mr Buckle drove up in his high gig to fetch her cousinsto the fete. She could hear the exclamations of surprise and admirationwhich fell from Mrs Greenways as they appeared ready to start. 

"Well, " she said with uplifted hands, "you do know how to give yourthings a bit of style. That I _will_ say. "

Bella had spent days of toil in preparing for this occasion, and theresult was now so perfect in her eyes that it was well worth the labour. The silk skirt crackled and rustled and glistened with every movement;the new hat was perched on her head with all its ribbons and flowersnodding. She was now engaged in painfully forcing on a pair oflemon-coloured gloves, but suddenly there was the sound of a crack, andher smile changed to a look of dismay. 

"There!" she exclaimed, "if it hasn't gone, right across the thumb. "

"Lor', what a pity, " said her mother. "Well, you can't stop to mend it;you must keep one hand closed, and it'll never show. "

Agnetta now appeared. She was dressed in the Sunday blue, with Bella'ssilver locket round her neck and a bangle on her wrist. But the gloryof her attire was the new parasol; it was so large and was trimmed withsuch a wealth of cotton lace, that the eye was at once attracted to it, and in fact when she bore it aloft her short square figure walking alongbeneath it became quite a secondary object. 

Lilac watched the departure from the dairy window, which, overgrown withcreepers, made a dark frame for the brightly-coloured picture. Therewas Mr Buckle, a young farmer of the neighbourhood, in a light-greysuit with a blue satin tie and a rose in his buttonhole. There wasBella, her face covered with self-satisfied smiles, mounting to hisside. There was Agnetta carrying the new parasol high in the air withall its lace fluttering. How gay and happy they all looked! MrsGreenways stood nodding at the window. She had meant to go out to thegate, but Bella had checked her. "Lor', Ma, " she said, "don't you comeout with that great apron on--you're a perfect guy. "

When the start was really made, and her cousins were whirled off to theunknown delights of Lenham, leaving only a cloud of dust behind them, Lilac breathed a little sigh. The sun was so bright, the breeze blew sosoftly, the sky was so blue--it was the very day for a holiday. Shewould have liked to go too, instead of having a hard day's work beforeher. 

"Where's Lilac?" called out Mrs Greenways in her high-pitched worriedvoice. "What on earth's got that child? Here's everything to do and noone to do it. Ah! there you are, " as Lilac ran out from the dairy. "Now, you haven't got no time to moon about to-day. You must stiryourself and help all you can. "

"Bees is swarmin'!" said Ben, thrusting his head in at the kitchen door, and immediately disappearing again. 

"Bother the bees!" exclaimed Mrs Greenways crossly. But on Molly thenews had a different effect. It was counted lucky to be present at thehousing of a new swarm. She at once left her occupation, seized asaucepan and an iron spoon, and regardless of her mistress rushed outinto the garden, making a hideous clatter as she went. "There now, lookat that!" said Mrs Greenways with a heated face. "She's off forgoodness knows how long, and a batch of loaves burning in the oven, andyour uncle wanting his tea sent down into the field. Why ever shouldthey want to go swarmin' now in that contrairy way?"

She opened the oven door and took out the bread as she spoke. 

"Now, don't you go running off, Lilac, " she continued. "There's enoughof 'em out there to settle all the bees as ever was. You get youruncle's tea and take it out, and Peter's too. They won't neither of 'embe in till supper. Hurry now. "

The last words were added simply from habit, for she had soon discoveredthat it was impossible to hurry Lilac. What she did was well andthoroughly done, but not even the example which surrounded her atOrchards Farm could make her in a bustle. The whole habit of her lifewas too strong within her to be altered. Mrs Greenways glanced at hera little impatiently as she steadily made the tea, poured it into a tincan, and cut thick hunches of bread and butter. "I could a done itmyself in, half the time, " she thought; but she was obliged to confessthat Lilac's preparations if slow were always sure, and that she neverforgot anything. 

Lilac tilted her sunbonnet well forward and set out, walking slowly soas not to spill the tea. How blazing the sun was, though it was nownearly four o'clock. In the distance she could see the end of herjourney, the big bare field beyond the orchard full of busy figures. Asshe passed the kitchen garden, Molly, rushing back from her encounterwith the bees, almost ran against her. 

"There was two on 'em, " she cried, her good-natured face shining withtriumph and the heat of her exertions; "and we've housed 'em bothbeautiful. Lor'! ain't it hot?"

She stood with her iron weapons hanging down on each side, quite readyfor a chat to delay her return to the house. Molly was alwayscheerfully ready to undertake any work that was not strictly her own. Lilac felt sorry, as they went on their several ways, to think of thescolding that was waiting for her; but it was wasted pity, for Molly'sshoulders were broad, and a scolding more or less made no manner ofdifference to them. 

There were all sorts and sizes of people at work in the hayfield asLilac passed through it. Machines had not yet come into use atDanecross, so that the services of men, women, and children were much inrequest at this busy time. The farmer, remembering the motto, wasdetermined to make his hay while the sun shone, and had collected handsfrom all parts of the neighbourhood. Lilac knew most of them, andpassed along exchanging greetings, to where her uncle sat on his greycob at the end of the field. He was talking to Peter, who stood by himwith a wooden pitchfork in his hand. 

Lilac thought that her uncle's face looked unusually good-tempered asshe handed up his meal to him. He sat there eating and drinking, andcontinued his conversation with his son. 

"Well, and what d'ye think of Buckle's offer for the colt?"

"Pity we can't sell him, " answered Peter. 

"_Can't_ sell him!" repeated the farmer; "I'm not so sure about that. Maybe he'd go sound now. He doesn't show no signs of lameness. "

"Wouldn't last a month on the roads, " said Peter. 

The farmer's face clouded a little. "Well, " he said hesitatingly, "that's Buckle's business. He can look him over, and if he don't seenothing wrong--"

"We hadn't ought to sell him, " said Peter in exactly the same voice. "He's not fit for the roads. Take him off soft ground and he'd go queerin a week. "

"He might or he mightn't, " said the farmer impatiently; "all I know is Iwant the cash. It'd just pay that bill of Jones's, as is alwaysbothering for his money. I declare I hate going into Lenham for fear ofmeeting that chap. "

Peter had begun to toss the hay near him with his pitchfork. He did notlook at his father or change his expression, but he said again:

"Knowing what we do, we hadn't ought to sell him. "

The farmer struck his stirrup-iron so hard with his stick that even thesteady grey pony was startled. 

"I wish, " he said with an oath, "that you'd never found it out then. I'd like to be square and straight about the horse as well as anyone. I've always liked best to be straight, but I'm too hard up to be soparticular as that comes to. It's easy enough, " he added moodily, "fora man to be honest with his pockets full of money. "

"I could get the same price for None-so-pretty, " said Peter after a longpause. "Mrs Grey wants her--over at Cuddingham. Took a fancy to her amonth ago. "

"I'll not have her sold, " said the farmer quickly. "What's the good ofselling her? She's useful to us, and the colt isn't. "

"She ain't not exactly so _useful_ to us as the other cows, " said Peter. "She's more of a fancy. "

"Well, she's yours, " answered the farmer sullenly. "You can do as youlike with her of course; but I'm not going to be off my bargain withBuckle whatever you do. "

He shook his reins and jogged slowly away to another part of the field, while Peter fell steadily to work again with his pitchfork. Lilac waspacking the things that had been used into her basket, and glanced athim now and then with her thoughts full of what she had just heard. Heropinion of Peter had changed very much lately. She had found, since herfirst conversation with him, that in many things he was not stupid butwise. He knew for instance a great deal about all the animals on thefarm, their ways and habits, and how to treat them when they were ill. There were some matters to be sure in which he was laughably simple, andmight be deceived by a child, but there were others on which everyonevalued his opinion. His father certainly deferred to him in anythingconnected with the live stock, and when Peter had discovered a gravedefect in the colt he did not dream of disputing it. So Lilac's feelingof pity began to change into something like respect, and she was suretoo that Peter was anxious to show her kindness, though the expressionof it was difficult to him. Since the day when he had gone away fromher so suddenly, frightened by her tears, they had had several talkstogether, although the speech was mostly on Lilac's side. She shrankfrom him no longer, and sometimes when the real Peter came up from thedepths where he lay hidden, and showed a glimpse of himself through thedull mask, she thought him scarcely ugly. 

Would he sell None-so-pretty? She knew what it would cost him, forsince Ben's history she had observed the close affection between them. There were not so many people fond of Peter that he could afford to loseeven the love of a cow--and yet he would rather do it than let the coltbe sold!

As she turned this over in her mind Lilac lingered over herpreparations, and when Peter came near her tossing the hay to right andleft with his strong arms, she looked up at him and said:

"I'm sorry about None-so-pretty. "

Peter stopped a moment, took off his straw hat and rubbed his hot redface with his handkerchief. 

"Thank yer, " he answered; "so am I. "

"Is it _certain sure_ you'll sell her?" asked Lilac. 

Peter nodded. "She'll have a good home yonder, " he said; "a rare fussthey'll make with her. "

"She'll miss you though, " said Lilac, shaking her head. 

"Well, " answered Peter, "I shouldn't wonder if she did look out for me abit just at first. I've always been foolish over her since she wasill. "

"But if Uncle sells the colt I s'pose you won't sell her, will you?"continued Lilac. 

"He _won't_ sell him, " was Peter's decided answer, as he turned to hiswork again. 

Now, nothing could have been more determined than Mr Greenways' manneras he rode away, but yet when Lilac heard Peter speak so firmly she felthe must be right. The colt would not be sold and None-so-pretty wouldhave to go in his place. She returned to the farm more than everimpressed by Peter's power. Quiet, dull Peter who seemed hardly able toput two sentences together, and had never an answer ready for hissisters' sharp speeches. 

That evening when Bella and Agnetta returned from Lenham, Lilac was atthe gate. She had been watching for them eagerly, for she was anxiousto hear all about the grand things they had seen, and hoped they wouldbe inclined to talk about it. As they were saying goodbye to Mr Bucklewith a great many smiles and giggles, the farmer came out. 

"Stop a bit, Buckle, " he said, "I want a word with you about the colt. I've changed my mind since the morning. "

Lilac heard no more as she followed her cousins into the house; butthere was no need. Peter had been right. 

During supper nothing was spoken of but the fete--the balloon, the band, the fireworks, and the dresses, Charlotte Smith's in particular. Lilacwas intensely interested, and it was trying after the meal was over tohave to help Molly in taking away the dishes, and lose so much of theconversation. This business over she drew near Agnetta and made anattempt to learn more, but in vain. Agnetta was in her loftiest mood, and though she was full of private jokes with Bella, she turned awaycoldly from her cousin. They had evidently some subject of the deepestimportance to talk of which needed constant whispers, titters fromBella, and even playful slaps now and then. Lilac could hear nothingbut "He says--She says, " and then a burst of laughter, and "go alongwith yer nonsense. " It was dull to be left out of it all, and shewished more than ever that she had gone to the fete too. 

"Lilac, " said her aunt, "just run and fetch your uncle's slippers. "

She was already on her way when the farmer took his pipe out of hismouth and looked round. He had been moody and cross all supper-time, and now he glanced angrily at his two daughters as they sat whisperingin the corner. 

"It's someone else's turn to run, it seems to me, " he said; "Lilac'sbeen at it all day. You go, Agnetta. " And as Agnetta left the roomwith an injured shrug, he continued:

"Seems too as if Lilac had all the work and none of the fun. You'd likean outing as well as any of 'em--wouldn't you, my maid?"

Lilac did not know what to make of such unexpected kindness. As a ruleher uncle seemed hardly to know that she was in the house. She did notanswer, for she was very much afraid of him, but she looked appealinglyat her aunt. 

"I'm sure, Greenways, " said the latter in an offended tone, "you needn'ttalk as if the child was put upon. And your own niece, and an orphanbesides. I know my duty better. And as for holidays and fetes andsuch, 'tisn't nateral to suppose as how Lilac would want to go to 'emafter the judgment as happened to her directly after the last one. Leastways, not yet awhile. There'd be something ondacent in it, to mythinking. "

"Well, there! it doesn't need so much talking, " replied the farmer. "I'm not wanting her to go to fetes. But there's Mr Snell--he wasasking for her yesterday when I met him. Let her go tomorrow and spendthe day with him. "

"If there is a busier day than another, it's Thursday, " said MrsGreenways fretfully. 

"Why, as to that, she's only a child, and makes no differ in the house, as you always say, " remarked the farmer; "anyhow, I mean her to goto-morrow, and that's all about it. "

Lilac went to bed that night with a heart full of gratitude for heruncle's kindness, and delight at the promised visit; but her lastthought before she slept was: "I'm sorry as how None-so-pretty has gotto be sold. "

CHAPTER NINE. 

COMMON THINGS. 

 "... Find out men's wants and will And meet them there, all earthly joys grow less To the one joy of doing kindnesses. " _George Herbert_. 

Lilac could hardly believe her own good fortune when nothing happenedthe next morning to prevent her visit, not even a cross word nor acomplaint from her aunt, who seemed to have forgotten her objections oflast night and to be quite pleased that she should go. Mrs Greenwaysput a small basket into her hand before she started, into which she hadpacked a chicken, a pot of honey, and a pat of fresh butter. 

"There, " she said, "that's a little something from Orchards Farm, tellhim. The chick's our own rearing, and the honey's from Peter's bees, and the butter's fresh this morning. "

She nodded and smiled good-naturedly; Joshua should see there was nostint at the farm. "Be back afore dusk, " she called after Lilac as shewatched her from the gate. 

So there was nothing to spoil the holiday or to damp Lilac's enjoymentin any way, and she felt almost as merry as she used to be before shecame to live in the valley, and had begun to have cares and troubles. For one whole day she was going to be White Lilac again, with noanxieties about the butter; she would hear no peevish voices orwrangling disputes, she would have kindness and smiles and sunshine allround her, and the blue sky above. In this happy mood everything alongthe well-known road had new beauties, and when she turned up the hilland felt the keener air blow against her face, it was like the greetingof an old friend. The very flowers in the tall overgrown hedges weredifferent to those which grew in the valley, and much sweeter; shepulled sprays of them as she went along until she had a large stragglingbunch to carry as well as her basket, and so at last entered Joshua'scottage with both hands full. 

"Now, Uncle Joshua, " she said, when the first greetings over he hadsettled to his work again, "I've come to dinner with you, and I'vebrought it along with me, and until it's ready you're not to look onceinto the kitchen. You couldn't never guess what it is, so you needn'ttry; and you mustn't smell it more nor you can help while it's cooking. "

It was a proud moment for Lilac when, the fowl being roasted to a turn, the table nicely laid, and the bunch of flowers put exactly in themiddle, she led the cobbler up to the feast. Even if Joshua had smeltthe fowl he concealed it very well, and his whole face expressed theutmost astonishment, while Lilac watched him in an ecstasy of delight. 

"My word!" he exclaimed, "its fit for a king. I feel, " looking down athis clothes, "as if I ought to have on my Sunday best. "

Lilac was almost too excited to eat anything herself, and presently, when she saw Joshua pause after his first mouthful, she enquiredanxiously:

"Isn't it good, Uncle?"

"Fact is, " he answered, "it's _too_ good. I don't really feel as how Iought to eat such dillicate food. Not being ill, or weak, or anywaypicksome in my appetite. "

"I made sure you'd say that, " said Lilac triumphantly; "and I just madeup my mind I'd cook it without telling what it was. You've got to eatit now, Uncle Joshua. You couldn't never be so ungrateful as to let itspoil. "

"There's Mrs Wishing now, " said Joshua, stilt hesitating, "a sicklyailing body as 'ud relish a morsel like this. "

It was not until Lilac had set his mind at rest by promising to takesome of the fowl to Mrs Wishing before she returned, that he was ableto abandon himself to thorough enjoyment. Lilac knew then by hissilence that her little feast was heartily appreciated, and she wouldnot disturb him by a word, although there were many things she wanted tosay. But at last Joshua had finished. 

"A fatter fowl nor a finer, nor a better cooked one couldn't be, " hesaid, as he laid down his knife and fork. "Not a bit o' dryness in thebird: juicy all through and as sweet as a nut. "

Ready now for a little conversation, he puffed thoughtfully at his pipewhile Lilac stood near washing the dishes and plates. 

"It's thirty years ago, " he said, speaking in a jerky voice so as not tointerfere with the comfort of his pipe, "since I had a fowl for dinner--and I mind very well when it was. It was my wedding-day. Away up inthe north it was, and parson gave the feast. "

"Was that when you used to play the clar'net in church, Uncle?" askedLilac. 

Joshua nodded. 

"We was a clar'net and a fiddle and a bass viol, " he said reflectively. "Never kept time--the bass viol didn't. Couldn't never get it into hishead. He wasn't never any shakes of a player--and he was a good fellertoo. "

"Did they play at your wedding?" asked Lilac. 

"They did that, " he answered; "in church and likewise after theceremony. Lor'! to hear how the bass viol did tag behind in_Rockingham_. I can hear him now. 'Twas like two solos being played, as one might say. No unity at all. I never hear that tune now but whatit carries me back to my wedding-day and the bass viol; and the taste ofthat fowl's done the same thing. It's a most pecooliar thing, is thememory. "

Lilac liked to hear Joshua talk about old days, but she was eager too totell her own news. There was so much that he did not know: all abouthay-harvest, and her butter-making, about Lenham fete, and her cousins, and, finally, all about None-so-pretty and Peter. "I do think, " sheadded, "as how I like him best of any of 'em, for all they say he's socommon. "

"Common or uncommon, they'd do badly without him, " muttered Joshua. "He's the very prop and pillar of the place, is Peter; if a wall'sstrong enough to hold the roof up, you don't ask if it's made of marbleor stone. "

"Are common things bad things?" asked Lilac suddenly. 

Joshua took his pipe out of his mouth and looked at her in somesurprise. 

"Common things--eh?" he repeated. 

"Yes, Uncle, " said Lilac hesitatingly, and trying to think of how tomake it clear. But she could only add:

"They call the pigs common too. "

"Well, as to pigs, " said Joshua, "I wish they was commoner still. Idon't despise a bit of bacon myself. I call that a good thing anyhow. When one comes to look at it, " he continued after a few puffs at hispipe, "the best things of all is common. The things as is under ourfeet and nigh to our hand and easy to be got. There's the flowers now--the common ones which grow so low as any child can pick 'em in thefields, daisies and such. There's the blue sky as we can all see, pooras well as rich. There's rain and sunshine and air and a heap else asbelongs to all alike, and which we couldn't do without. The commonthings is the best things, don't you make any mistake about that. There's your own name now--Lilac. It's a common bush lilac is; it growsevery bit as well in a little bit of garden nigh the road as in a grandpark, and it hasn't no rare colours to take the eye. And yet on asunshiny day after rain the folks passing'll say, `Whatever is it assmells so beautiful?' Why it's just the common lilac bush. You oughtto be like that in a manner of speaking--not to try and act clever andsmart so as to make folks stare, but to be good-tempered and peacefuland loving, so as they say when you leave 'em, `What made the place sopleasant? Why, it was Lilac White. She ain't anything out of thecommon, but we miss her now she's gone--'"

The frequent mention of her name reminded Lilac of something she wantedto say, and she broke in suddenly:

"Why, I've never thought to thank you, Uncle, for all that bloom you gotme on May Day. What a long way back it do seem!"

Joshua looked perplexed. 

"What's the child talking on?" he said. "I didn't get no flowers. "

"Whoever in all the world could it a been then?" said Lilac slowly. "You're sure you haven't forgotten, Uncle Joshua?"

"Sartain sure!"

"You didn't ask no one to get it?"

"Never mentioned a word to a livin' bein'. " Lilac stared thoughtfullyat the cobbler, who had now gone back to his little shed and was hard atwork. 

"P'r'aps, then, " she said, "'twarn't you neither who sent Mother'scactus down to the farm?"

"Similarly, " replied he, "it certainly was _not_; so you've got morefriends than you reckoned for, you see. "

Lilac stood in the doorway, her bonnet dangling in one hand, her eyesfixed absently on Joshua's brown fingers. 

"I made sure, " she said, "as how it was you. I couldn't think as therewas anybody else to mind. "

It was getting late. Without looking at the clock she knew that herholiday would soon be over, because through Joshua's little window therecame a bright sun beam which was never there till after five. She tiedon her bonnet, prepared a choice morsel of chicken for Mrs Wishing, andset out on her further journey after a short farewell to the cobbler. Joshua never liked saying goodbye, and did it so gruffly that it mighthave sounded sulky to the ear of a stranger, but Lilac knew better. Shehad a "goodish step" before her, as she called it to herself, and if shewere to get back to the farm before dusk she must make haste. So shehurried on, and soon in the distance appeared the two little whitecottages side by side, perched on the edge of the steep down. The onein which she had lived with her mother was empty, and as she got closeto it and stopped to look over the paling into the small strip ofgarden, she felt sorry to see how forlorn and deserted it looked. Ithad always been so trim and neat, and its white hearthstone and opendoor had invited the passer-by to enter. Now the window shutters werefastened, the door was locked, the straggling flowers and vegetableswere mixed up with tall weeds and nettles--it was all lifeless and cold. It was a pity. Mother would not have liked to see it. Lilac pushedher hand through the palings and managed to pick some sweet-peas whichwere trailing themselves helplessly about for want of support, then shewent on to the next gate. Poor Mrs Wishing was very lonely now thather only neighbour was gone; very few people passed over that way orcame up so far from Danecross. Sometimes when Dan'l had a job on in thewoods he was away for days and she saw no one at all, unless she wasable to get to the cobbler's cottage, and that was seldom. Lilacknocked gently at the half-open door, and hearing no answer went in. 

Mrs Wishing was there, sitting asleep in a chair by the hearth with herhead hanging uncomfortably on one side; her dress was untidy, her hairrough, and her face white and pinched. Lilac cast one glance at her andthen looked round the room. There were some white ashes on the hearth, a kettle hanging over them by its chain, and at Mrs Wishing's elbowstood an earthenware teapot, from which came a faint sickly smell; andwhen Lilac saw that she nodded to herself, for she knew what it meant. The next moment the sleeper opened her large grey eyes and gazedvacantly at her visitor. 

"It's me, " said Lilac. "It's Lilac White. "

Mrs Wishing still gazed without speaking; there was an unearthlyflickering light in her eyes. At last she muttered indistinctly:

"You're just like her. "

Not in the least alarmed or surprised at this condition, Lilac glancedat the teapot and said reproachfully:

"You've been drinking poppy tea, and you promised Mother you wouldn't doit no more. "

Mrs Wishing struggled feebly against the drowsiness which overpoweredher, and murmured apologetically:

"I didn't go to do it, but it seemed as if I couldn't bear the pain. "

Lilac set down her basket, and opened the door of a cupboard near thechimney corner. 

"Where's your kindlin's?" she asked. "I'll make you a cup of real tea, and that'll waken you up a bit. And Uncle Joshua's sent you a morsel ofchicken. "

"Ha'n't got no kindlin's and no tea, " murmured Mrs Wishing. "Give me adrink o' water from the jug yonder. "

No tea! That was an unheard-of thing. As Lilac brought the water shesaid indignantly:

"Where's Mr Wishing then? He hadn't ought to go and leave you likethis without a bit or a drop in the house. "

Mrs Wishing seemed a little refreshed by the water and was able tospeak more distinctly. She sat up in her chair and made a few listlessattempts to fasten up her hair and put herself to rights. 

"'Tain't Dan'l's fault this time, " she said; "he's up in the woodsfelling trees for a week. They're sleeping out till the job's done. Hedid leave me money, and I meant to go down to the shop. But then I tookbad and I couldn't crawl so far, and nobody didn't pass. "

"And hadn't you got nothing in the house?" asked Lilac. 

"Only a crust a' bread, and I didn't seem to fancy it. I craved so fora cup a' tea. And I had some dried poppy heads by me. So I held out aslong as I could, and nobody didn't come. And this morning I used mykindlin's and made the tea. And when I drank it I fell into a blessedsleep, and I saw lots of angels, and their harps was sounding beautifulin my head all the time. When I was a gal there was a hymn--it wasabout angels and golden crownds and harps, but I can't put it rightlytogether now. So then I woke and there was you, and I thought you was asperrit. Seems a pity to wake up from a dream like that. But _I_dunno. "

She let her head fall wearily back as she finished. Lilac was not inthe least interested by the vision. She was accustomed to hear of MrsWishing's angels and harps, and her mind was now entirely occupied byearthly matters. 

"What you want is summat to eat and drink, " she said, "and I shall justhave to run back to Uncle Joshua's for some bread and tea. But firstI'll get a few sticks and make you a blaze to keep you comp'ny. "

Mrs Wishing's eyes rested an her like those of a child who is beingcomforted and taken care of, as having collected a few sticks she knelton the hearth and fanned them into a blaze with her pinafore. 

"You couldn't bide a little?" she said doubtfully, as Lilac turnedtowards the door. 

"I'll be back in no time, " said Lilac, "and then you shall have a nicesupper, and you mustn't take no more of this, " pointing to the teapot. "You know you promised Mother. "

"I didn't _go to_, " repeated Mrs Wishing submissively; "but it seemedas if I couldn't bear the gnawing in my inside. "

It did not take long for Lilac, filled with compassion for her oldfriend, to run back to the cobbler's cottage; but there she was delayeda little, for Joshua had questions to ask, although he was ready andeager to fill her basket with food. The return was slower, for it wasall uphill and her burden made a difference to her speed, so that it waslong past sunset when she reached Mrs Wishing for the second time. Then, after coaxing her to eat and drink, Lilac had to help her upstairsand put her to bed like a child, and finally to sit by her side and talksoothingly to her until she dropped into a deep sleep. Her duties over, and everything put ready to. Mrs Wishing's hand for the next morning, she now had time to notice that it was quite dusk, and that the firststars were twinkling in the sky. With a sudden start she remembered heraunt's words: "Be back afore dusk, " and clasped her hands in dismay. Itwas no use to hurry now, for however quickly she went the farm wouldcertainly be closed for the night before she reached it. Should shestay where she was till the morning? No, it would be better to take thechance of finding someone up to let her in. Mrs Wishing would be allright now that Joshua knew about her; "and anyway, I'm glad I came, "said Lilac to herself, "even if Aunt does scold a bit. "

With this thought to console her, she stepped out into the cool summernight, and began her homeward journey. It was not very dark, for it wasmidsummer--near Saint Barnabas Day, when there is scarcely any night atall--

 "Barnaby Bright All day and no night!"

Lilac had often heard her mother say that rhyme, and she remembered itnow. It was all very, very still, so that all manner of sounds too lowto have been noticed amongst the noises of the day were now plainly tobe heard. A soft wind went whispering and sighing to itself in thetrees overhead, carrying with it the sweetness of the hayfields and thehoneysuckle in the hedges, owls hooted mysteriously, and the frogscroaked in some distant pond. Creatures never seen in the daytime werenow awake and busy. As Lilac ran along, the bats whirred close past herface, and she saw in the grass by the wayside the steady little light ofthe glow-worms. It was certainly very late; there was hardly a glimmerof hope that anyone would be up at the farm. It was equally certainthat, if there were, a scolding waited for Lilac. Either way it wasbad, she thought. She wanted to go to bed, for she was very tired, butshe did not want to be scolded to-night; she could bear that better inthe morning. When she reached the house, therefore, and found it allsilent and dark, with no light in any window and no sound of anymovement, she hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry. But presently, as she stood there forlornly, with only the sky overhead full of starsblinking their cold bright eyes at her, she began to long to creep insomewhere and rest. Her limbs ached, her head felt heavy, and her hardlittle bed seemed a luxury well worth the expense of a scolding. Shouldshe venture to knock at the door? She had almost determined on thisbold step, when quite suddenly a happy idea came to her. There wouldperhaps be some door open in the outbuildings, either in the loft or thebarn or the stables, where she could get in and find shelter for thenight. It was worth trying at any rate. With renewed hope she ranacross the strawyard and tried the great iron ring in the stable door. It was not locked. Here were shelter and rest at last, and no one toscold!

She crept in, and was just closing the heavy door when towards her, across the rickyard, came the figure of a man. His head was bent sothat she could not see his face, but she thought from his lumbering walkthat it must be Peter, and in a moment it flashed across her mind thathe had just got back from Cuddingham. While she stood hesitating justwithin the door the man came quite close, and before she could call outthe key rattled in the lock and heavy footsteps tramped away again. Then it was Peter. But surely he must have seen her, and if so why hadhe locked her in? Anyhow here she was for the night, and the next thingto do was to find a bed. She groped her way past the stalls of thethree Pleasants, whose dwelling she had invaded, to the upright ladderwhich led to the loft. The horses were all lying down after their hardday's work, and only one of them turned his great head with a rattle ofhis halter, to see who this small intruder could be. Lilac clambered upthe ladder and was soon in the dark fragrant-smelling loft above, wherethe trusses of hay and straw were mysteriously grouped under the lowthick beams. There was no lack of a soft warm nest here, and the closeneighbourhood of the Pleasants made it feel secure and friendly; nothingcould possibly be better. She took off her shoes, curled herself upcosily in the hay, and shut her weary eyes. Presently she opened themdrowsily again, and then discovered that her lodging was shared by acompanion, for on the rafters just above her head, her single eyegleaming in the darkness, sat Peter's cat Tib. Lilac called to her, butshe took no notice and did not move, having her own affairs to conductat that time of night. Lilac watched her dreamily for a little while, and then her thoughts wandered on to Peter and became more and moreconfused. He got mixed up with Joshua, and the cactus andNone-so-pretty and heaps of white flowers. "The common things are thebest things, " she seemed to hear over and over again. Then quitesuddenly she was in Mrs Wishing's cottage, and the loft was filled withthe heavy sickly smell of poppy tea: it was so strong that it made herfeel giddy and her eyelids seemed pressed down by a firm hand. Afterthat she remembered nothing more that night. 

CHAPTER TEN. 

THE CREDIT OF THE FARM. 

 "Many littles make a mickle. "--_Scotch Proverb_. 

She was awakened the next morning by trampling noises in the stablebelow, and starting up could not at first make out where she was. Thesun was shining through a rift in the loft door, Tib was gone, cockswere crowing outside, all the world was up and busy. She could hearBen's gruff voice and the clanking of chains and harness, and soon heand the three horses had left the stable and gone out to their day'swork. It must be late, therefore, and she must lose no time inpresenting herself at the house. Perhaps it might be possible, shethought, to get up to her attic without seeing anyone, and tidy herselfa bit first; she should then have more courage to face her aunt, for atpresent with her rough hair and pieces of hay and straw clinging to herclothes, she felt like some little stray wanderer. She approached thehouse cautiously and peeped in at the back door before entering, to seewho was in the kitchen. Bella was there talking to Molly, whose broadred face was thrust eagerly forward as though she were listening tosomething interesting. They were indeed so deeply engaged that Lilacfelt sure they would not notice her, and she took courage and went in. 

"It's a mercy she wasn't killed, " Molly was saying. "She's no lightweight to fall, isn't the missus. "

"It's completely upset me, " said Bella in a faint voice, with one handon her heart. "I tremble all over still. "

"And to think, " said Molly, "as it was only yesterday I said to myself, `I'll darn that carpet before I'm an hour older'. "

"Well, it's a pity you didn't, " said Bella sharply; "just like yourcareless ways. "

Molly shook her head. 

"'Twasn't to _be_, " she said. "'Twasn't for nothing that I spilt thesalt twice, and dreamt of water. "

"The doctor says it's a bad sprain, " continued Bella; "and it's likelyshe'll be laid up for a month. Perfect rest's the only thing. "

"_I_ had a cousin, " said Molly triumphantly, "what had a similaraccident. A heavy woman she was, like the missus in build. Informationset in with _her_ and she died almost immediate. "

Lilac did not wait to hear more; she made her escape safely to herattic, and soon afterwards found Agnetta and learnt from her the historyof the accident. Mrs Greenways had had a bad fall; she had caught herfoot in a hole in the carpet and twisted her ankle, and the doctor saidit was a wonder she had not broken any bones. Everyone in the house hadso much to say, and was so excited about this misfortune, that Lilac'slittle adventure was passed over without notice, and the scolding shehad dreaded did not come at all. Poor Mrs Greenways had other thingsto think of as she lay groaning on the sofa, partly with pain and partlyat the prospect before her. To be laid up a month! It was easy for thedoctor to talk, but what would become of things? Who would look afterMolly? Who would see to the dairy? It would all go to rack and ruin, and she must lie here idle and look on. Her husband stood by trying togive comfort, but every word he said only seemed to make matters worse. 

"Why, there's Bella now, " he suggested; "she ought to be able to takeyour place for a bit. "

"And that just shows how much you know about the indoors work, Greenways, " said his wife fretfully; "to talk of Bella! Why, I'd assoon trust the dairy to Peter's cat as Bella--partikler now she's gotthat young Buckle in her head. She don't know cream from buttermilk. "

"Why, then, you must just leave the butter to Molly as usual, and letthe girls see after the rest, " said Mr Greenways soothingly. 

"Oh, it's no use talking like that, " said his wife impatiently; "it'sonly aggravating to hear you. I suppose you think things are done inthe house without heads or hands either. Girls indeed! There'sAgnetta, knows no more nor a baby, and only that little bit of a Lilacas can put her hand to anything. "

Finding his efforts useless, Mr Greenways shrugged his shoulders andwent out, leaving his wife alone with her perplexities. 

The more she thought them over the worse they seemed. To whom could shetrust whilst she was helpless? Who would see that the butter was readyand fit for market? Not Bella, not Agnetta, and certainly not Molly. Really and truly there was only that little bit of a Lilac, as shecalled her, to depend on--she would do her work just as well whether shewere overlooked or not, Mrs Greenways felt sure. It was no use to shuther eyes to it any longer, Lilac White was not a burden but a support, not useless but valuable, only a child, but more dependable than manypeople of twice her years. It was bitter to poor Mrs Greenways toacknowledge this, even to herself, for the old jealousy was still strongwithin her. 

"I s'pose, " she said with a groan, "there was something in Mary White'supbringing after all. I'm not agoin' to own up to it, though, aforeother folks. "

When a little later Lilac was told that her aunt wanted her, she thoughtthat the scolding had come at last, and went prepared to bear it as wellas she could. It was, however, for a surprisingly different purpose. 

"Look here, Lilac, " said Mrs Greenways carelessly, "you've been a gooddeal in the dairy lately, and you ought to have picked up a lot aboutit. "

"I can make the butter all myself, Aunt, " replied Lilac, "without Mollytouching it. "

"Well, I hope you're thankful for such a chance of learning, " said MrsGreenways; "not but what you're a good child enough, I've nothing to sayagainst you. But what I want to say is this: Molly can't do everythingwhile I'm laid by, and I think I shall take her from the dairy-workaltogether, and let you do it. "

Lilac's eyes shone with delight. Her aunt spoke as though she werebestowing a favour, and she felt it indeed to be such. 

"Oh! thank you, Aunt, " she cried. "I'm quite sure as how I can do it, and I like it ever so much. "

"With Agnetta to help you I dessay you'll get through with it, " saidMrs Greenways graciously, and so the matter was settled. Lilac wasdairymaid! No longer a little household drudge, called hither andthither to do everyone's work, but an important person with a businessand position of her own. What an honour it was! There was only onedrawback--there was no mother to rejoice with her, or to understand howglad she felt about it. Lilac was obliged to keep her exultation toherself. She would have liked to tell Peter of her advancement, butjust now he was at work on some distant part of the farm, and she sawhim very seldom, for her new office kept her more within doors thanusual. The good-natured Molly was, however, delighted with the change, and full of wonder at Lilac's cleverness. 

"It's really wonderful, " she said; "and what beats me is that it allusturns out the same. "

With this praise Lilac had to be content, and she busied herselfearnestly in her own little corner with increasing pride in her work. Sometimes, it is true, she looked enviously at Agnetta, who seemed tohave nothing to do but enjoy herself after her own fashion. SinceLenham fete Bella and she had had some confidential joke together, whichthey carried on by meaning nods and winks and mysterious references to"Charlie. " They were also more than ever engaged in altering theirdresses and trimming their hats, and although Lilac was kept completelyoutside all this, she soon began to connect it with the visits of youngMr Buckle. She thought it a little unkind of Agnetta not to let herinto the secret, and it was dull work to hear so much laughter going onwithout ever joining in it; but very soon she knew what it all meant. 

"Heard the news?" cried Agnetta, rushing into the dairy, then, withoutwaiting for an answer, "Bella's goin' to get married. Guess who to?"

"Young Mr Buckle, " said Lilac without a moment's hesitation. 

"As soon as ever Ma's about again the wedding's to be, " said Agnettaexultingly. "I'm to be bridesmaid, and p'r'aps Charlotte Smith aswell. " Lilac, who had stopped her scrubbing to listen, now went on withit, and Agnetta looked down at her kneeling figure with some contempt. 

"What a lot of trouble you take over it!" she said. "Molly used to doit in half the time. "

"If I ain't careful, " answered Lilac, "the butter'd get a taste. "

"I'll help you a bit, " said her cousin condescendingly. "I'll rinsethese pans for you. "

Lilac was glad to have Agnetta's company, for she wanted to hear allabout Bella's wedding; but Agnetta's help she was not so anxious for, because she usually had to do the work all over again. Agnetta's ideaof excellence was to get through her work quickly, to make it look welloutside, to polish the part that showed and leave the rest undone. Speed and show had always been the things desired in the household atOrchards Farm--not what _was_ good but what _looked_ good, and could behad at small expense and labour. Beneath the smart clothing which MrsGreenways and her daughters displayed on Sundays, strange discoveriesmight have been made. Rents fastened up with pins, stains hidden bystylish scarves and mantles, stockings unmended, boots trodden down orin holes. A feather in the hat, a bangle on the arm, and a bunched-updress made up for these deficiencies. "If it don't show it don'tmatter, " Bella was accustomed to say. Agnetta paused to rest afterabout two minutes. 

"Bella won't have nothing of this sort to do after she's married, " shesaid. "Charlie says she needn't stir a finger, not unless she likes. She'll be able to sit with her hands before her just like a lady. "

"I shouldn't care about being a lady if that's what I had to do, " saidLilac. "I should think it would be dull. I'd rather see after thefarm, if I was Bella. "

"You don't mean to tell me you _like work_?" said Agnetta, staring. "You wouldn't do it, not if you weren't obliged? 'Tain't natural. "

"I like some, " said Lilac. "I like the dairy work and I like feedingthe poultry. And I want to learn to milk, if Ben'll teach me. And inthe spring I mean to try and get ever such a lot of early ducks. "

"Well, I hate all that, " said Agnetta. "Now, if I could choose Iwouldn't live on a farm at all. I'd have lots of servants, and silkgownds and gold bracelets and broaches, and satting furniture, and acarridge to drive in every day. An' I'd lie in bed ever so late in themornings and always do what I liked. "

Time went on and Mrs Greenway's ankle got better, so that althoughstill lame she was able to hobble about with a stick, and find outMolly's shortcomings much as usual. During her illness she had relied agood deal on Lilac and softened in her manner towards her, but now theold feeling of jealousy came back, and she found it impossible to praiseher for the excellence of the dairy-work. "I can't somehow bring mytongue to it, " she said to herself; "and the better she behaves the lessI can do it. " One day the farmer came back from Lenham in a goodhumour. 

"Benson asked if we'd got a new dairymaid, " he said to his wife; "thebutter's always good now. Which of 'em does it?"

"Oh, " said Mrs Greenways carelessly, "the girls manage it between 'em, and I look it over afore it goes. "

Lilac heard it, for she had come into the room unnoticed, and for asecond she stood still, uncertain whether to speak, fixing a reproachfulgaze on her aunt. What a shame it was! Was this her reward for all herpatience and hard work? Never a word of praise, never even the creditof what she did! On her lips were some eager angry words, but she didnot utter them. She turned and ran upstairs to her own little attic. Her heart was full; she could see no reason for this injustice: it wasvery, very hard. What would they do, she went on to think, if she leftthe butter to Bella and Agnetta to manage between them? What would heraunt say then?

Trembling with indignation she sat down on her bed and buried her facein her hands. At first she was too angry to cry, but soon she felt solonely, with such a great longing for a word of comfort and kindness, that the tears came fast. After that she felt a little better, rubbedher eyes on her pinafore, and looked up at the small window throughwhich there streamed some bright rays of the afternoon sun. What was itthat lighted the room with such a glory? Not the sunshine alone. Itrested on something in the window, which stood out in gorgeous splendourfrom the white bareness of its surroundings--the cactus had bloomed!Yes, the cactus had really burst into two blossoms, of such size andbrilliancy that with the sunlight upon them they were positivelydazzling to behold. Lilac sat and blinked her red eyes at them inadmiration and wonder. She had watched the two buds with tenderinterest, and feared they would never unfold themselves. Now they haddone it, and how beautiful they were! How Mother would have liked them!

Her next thought was, as she went closer to examine them, that she musttell Peter. She remembered now, that, occupied with her own affairs andinterests, she had never thanked him for two kind things he had done. She was quite sure that he had got the flowers for her on May Day, andhad brought the cactus down from the cottage, yet she had said nothing. How ungrateful she had been! She knew now how hard it was not to bethanked for one's services. Did Peter mind? He must be pretty wellused to it, for certainly no one ever thanked him for anything, and asfor praise that was out of the question. If, as Uncle Joshua had said, he was the prop of the house, it was taken for granted, and no onethought of saying, "Well done, Peter!"

Yet he never complained. He went patiently on in his dull way, keepinghis pains and troubles to himself. How seldom his face was brightenedby pleasure, and yet Lilac remembered when he had been talking to herabout his animals or farming matters, that she had seen it changewonderfully. Some inner feeling had beamed out from it, and for a fewminutes Peter was a different creature. It was a pity that he did notalways look like that; no one at such times could call him stupid orugly. "Anyway, " concluded Lilac, "he's been kind, and I'll thank him assoon as ever I can. "

Her sympathy for Peter made her own trouble seem less, and she wentdownstairs cheerfully with her mind bent on managing a little talk withhim as soon as possible. Supper-time would not do, because Bella andAgnetta were there, and afterwards Peter was so sleepy. It must beto-morrow. As it happened things turned out fortunately for Lilac, andrequired no effort on her part, for Mrs Greenways discovered the nextday that someone must do some shopping in Lenham. There were thingswanted that Dimbleby did not keep, and the choice of which could not betrusted to a man. 

"I wonder, " she said, "if I could make shift to get into the cart--butif I did I couldn't never get in and out at the shops. "

She looked appealingly at her elder daughter. 

"The cart's _going_ in with the butter, " she added. 

But Bella was not inclined to take the hint. 

"You don't catch me driving into Lenham with the cart full of butter andeggs and such, " she said. "Whatever'd Charlie say? Why shouldn't Lilacgo? She's sharp enough. "

There seemed no reason against this, and it was accordingly settled thatLilac should be entrusted with Mrs Greenways' commissions. As shereceived them, her mind was so full of the dazzling prospect of drivinginto Lenham with the butter that it was almost impossible to bring it tobear on anything else. It would be like going into the world. Onlyonce in her whole life had she been there before, and that was when hermother had taken her long ago. She was quite a little child then, butshe remembered the look of it still, and what a grand place she hadthought it, with its broad market square and shops and so many peopleabout. 

When her aunt had finished her list, which was a very long one, Bellawas ready with her wants, which were even more puzzling. 

"I want this ribbon matched, " she said, "and I want a bonnet shape. Itmustn't be too high in the crown nor yet too broad in the brim, and itmustn't be like the one Charlotte Smith's got now. If you can't matchthe ribbon exactly you must get me another shade. A kind of a sapgreen, I think--but it must be something uncommon. And you might ask atJones's what's being worn in hats now--feathers or artificials. Oh, andI want some cream lace, not more than sixpence a yard, a good strikingpattern, and as deep as you can get for the money. " Agnetta havingadded to this two ounces of coconut rock and a threepenny bottle ofscent, Lilac was allowed to get ready for her expedition. The cart waswaiting in the yard with the baskets packed in at the back, and Ben wasbuckling the last strap of the harness. She expected that he was goingwith her, and it was quite a pleasant surprise when Peter came out ofthe house with a whip in his hand and took the reins. Nothing couldhave happened more fortunately, she thought to herself as they drove outof the gate, for now there would be no difficulty at all in saying whatshe had on her mind. This and the excitement of the journey itself puther in excellent spirits, so that though some people might have calledthe road to Lenham dull and flat, it was full of charms to Lilac. Itwas indeed more lively than usual, for it was market day, and as theyjogged along at an easy pace they were constantly greeted byacquaintances all bent in the same direction. Some of these were onfoot and others in all kinds of vehicles, from a wagon to a donkey cart. Mr Buckle presently dashed by them in a smart gig, and called out, "How's yourself, Peter?" as he passed; and farther on they overtook MrsPinhorn actively striding along in her well-known checked shawl. 

Peter answered all greetings in the same manner--a wag of the headtowards the right shoulder--but Lilac felt so proud and pleased to begoing to Lenham with her own butter that she sat up very straight, andsmiled and nodded heartily to those she knew. It seemed a wonderfullyshort journey, and she saw the spire of Lenham church in the distancebefore she had said one word to Peter, or he had broken silence exceptto speak to his horse. This did not disturb her, for she was used tohis ways now, and she made up her mind that she would put off anyattempt at conversation until their return. And here they were atLenham, rattling over the round stones with which the marketplace waspaved. It was full of stalls, crowded together so closely that therewas scarcely room for all the people passing up and down between them. They struggled along, jostling each other, pushing their way with greatbaskets on their arms, and making a confusion of noises. Scolding, laughter, shouting filled the air, mixed up with the clatter ofcrockery, cracking of whips, and the shrill cries of the market women. Such a turmoil Lilac had never heard, and it was almost a relief whenPeter turned a little away from it and drew up at the door of Benson'sshop, where the butter was to be left. It was a large and importantshop, and though the entrance was down a narrow street it had two greatwindows facing the market square, and there was a constant stream ofpeople bustling in and out. Lilac's heart beat fast with excitement. If she had known that the butter was to be displayed in such a grandbeautiful place as this, and seen by so many folks, she would hardlyhave dared to undertake it. Sudden fear seized her that it might not beso good as usual this time: there was perhaps some fault in themaking-up, some failure in the colour, although she had thought itlooked all right when she packed up at the farm. She followed Peterinto the shop with quite a tremor, and was glad when she saw Mr Bensoncould not attend to them just yet, for he and his boy were both deeplyengaged in attending to customers. Lilac had plenty of time to lookround her. Her eye immediately fell on some rolls of butter on thecounter, and she lifted a corner of the cloth which covered her own andgave an anxious peep at it, then nudged Peter and looked up at him forsympathy. 

"It's a better colour nor that yonder, " she whispered. 

Peter stood stolidly unconscious of her excitement, but he turned hisquiet eyes upon the eager face lifted to his, and nodded kindly. MrBenson caught sight of him and bustled up. 

"Morning, Peter, " he said briskly. "How's your mother?"

"Middling, thank you, " said Peter, and without any further words hepointed at the basket on the counter. 

"Butter--eh?" said the grocer. "Well, I hope it's as good as the last. "He unpacked the basket and proceeded to weigh the butter, talking allthe time. 

"It's an odd thing to me how your butter varies. Now, the last monthit's been as good again as it used to be. Of course in the winter therewill be a difference because of the feed, I can understand that; but Ican't see why it shouldn't be always the same in the summer. I don'tmind telling you, " he continued, leaning forward and speaking in aconfidential tone, "that I'd made up my mind at one time to give it up. People won't buy inferior butter, and I don't blame 'em. "

"It's good this time, anyhow, " said Peter. 

"It's prime, " said Mr Benson. "Is it the cows now, that you've gotnew, or is it the dairymaid?"

"The cows isn't new, nor yet the dairymaid, " said Peter. 

"Well, whichever it is, " said the grocer, "the credit of the farm'scoming back. Orchards Farm always had a name for its dairy in the olddays. I remember my father talking of it when I was a boy. "

Mrs Pinhorn, who had been standing near during this conversation, nowstruck sharply in:

"They _do_ say there was a brownie at the farm in those days, but whenit got into other hands he was angered and quitted. "

"That's a curious superstition, ma'am, " said the grocer politely. 

"There's folks in Danecross who give credit to it still, " continued MrsPinhorn. "Old Grannie Dunch'll tell you ever so many tales about thebrownie and his goings-on. "

"Well, if we didn't live, so to say, within the pale of civilisation, "said the grocer, sticking his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, "we mightthink you'd got him back again at the farm. What do you say to that, Peter?"

Everyone knew that Peter believed in all sorts of crazy things, and whenMr Benson put this jocular question to him several people turned to seehow he took it. 

Lilac looked eagerly up at him also, for she had a faint hope that hemight somehow know that she was dairymaid, and would tell them so. Thatwould be a triumph indeed. At any rate he would stop all this sillytalk about the brownie. She had heard Grannie Dunch's stories scores oftimes, and they were very interesting, but as to believing them--Lilacfelt far above such folly, and held them all in equal contempt, whetherthey were of charms, ghosts, brownies, or other spirits. It wastherefore with dismay that she saw Peter's face get redder and redderunder the general gaze, and heard him instead of speaking up onlymutter, "I don't know nothing about it. "

Moved by indignation at such foolishness, and at the mocking expressionan Mr Benson's round face, she ventured to give Peter's sleeve a sharppull. No more words came, he only shuffled his feet uneasily and showedan evident desire to get out of the shop. 

"Well, well, " said the grocer, turning his attention to some money hewas counting out of a drawer, "never you mind, Peter. If you've got himyou'd better keep him, for he knows how to make good butter at anyrate. "

Everyone laughed, as they always did at Mr Benson's speeches, and inthe midst of it Peter gathered up his money and left the shop withLilac. She felt so ruffled and vexed by what had passed, that she couldhardly attend to his directions as he pointed out the different shopsshe had to go to. They were an ironmonger's, a linendraper's, and achina shop, and in the last he told her she must wait until he came tofetch her with the cart in about an hour's time. Lilac stood for amoment looking after him as he drove away to put up his horse at theinn. She was angry with Mr Benson, angry with the people who hadlaughed, and angry with Peter. No wonder folks thought him half-sillywhen he looked like that. And yet he knew twice as much as all of 'emput together. Only that morning when Sober had cut his foot badly withbroken glass, it was Peter with his clumsy-looking gentle fingers whohad known how to stop the bleeding and bind up the wound in the bestway. But in spite of all this he could stand like a gaby and let folksmake a laughing-stock of him? It was so provoking to remember how sillyhe had looked, that it was only by a determined effort that Lilac couldget it out of her head, and bend her attention on Bella's ribbons andher aunt's pots and pans. When she had once began her shopping, however, she found it took all her thoughts, and it was not till she wasseated in the china shop, her business finished, and her parcelsdisposed round her, that the scene came back to her again. Could it bepossible that Peter put any faith in such nonsensical tales?

Grannie Dunch believed them; but then she was very ignorant, over ninetyyears old, and had never been to school. When Grannie Dunch was youngperhaps folks did believe such things, and she had never been taughtbetter; there were excuses for her. On one point Lilac was determined. Peter's mind should be cleared up as to who made the butter. What hadMr Benson said about it? "The credit of the farm's coming back. " Sherepeated the words to herself in a whisper. What a grand thing if she, Lilac White, had helped to bring back the credit of the farm!

At this point in her reflections the white horse appeared at the door, and Lilac and all her belongings were lifted up into the cart. Verysoon they were out of the noisy stony streets of Lenham, and on thequiet country road again. She took a side glance at her companion. Helooked undisturbed, with his eyes fixed placidly on the horse's ears, and had evidently nothing more on his mind than to sit quietly thereuntil they reached home. It made Lilac feel quite cross, and she gavehim a sharp little nudge with her elbow to make him attend to what shehad to say. 

"Why ever did you let 'em go on so silly about the brownie?" she said. "You looked for all the world as if you believed in it. "

Peter flicked his horse thoughtfully. 

"There's a many cur'ous things in the world, " he said; "cur'ouser thanthat. "

"There ain't no such things as brownies, though, " said Lilac, withdecision; "nor yet ghosts, nor yet witches, nor yet any of them thingsas Grannie Dunch tells about. "

Peter was silent. 

"_Is_ there?" she repeated with another nudge of the elbow. 

"I don't says as there is, " he answered slowly. 

"Of course not!" exclaimed Lilac triumphantly. 

"And I don't say as there isn't, " finished Peter in exactly the samevoice. 

This unexpected conclusion quite took Lilac's breath away. She staredspeechlessly at her cousin, and he presently went on in a reflectivetone with his eyes still fixed on the horse's ears:

"It's been a wonderful lucky year, there's no denying. Hay turned outwell, corn's going to be good. More eggs, more milk, better butter, bees swarmed early. "

"But, " put in Lilac, "Aunt sprained her ankle, and the colt went lame, and you had to sell None-so-pretty. That wasn't lucky. Why didn't thebrownie hinder that?"

Peter shook his head. 

"I don't say as there _is_ a brownie at the farm, " he said. 

"But you think he helps make the butter, " said Lilac scornfully. 

Peter turned his eyes upon his companion; her face was hidden from himby her sunbonnet, but her slender form and the sound of her voice seemedboth to quiver with indignation and contempt. 

"Well, then, who _does_?" he asked. 

But Lilac only held her head up higher and kept a dignified silence; shewas thoroughly put out with Peter, and if he was so silly it really wasno use to talk to him. 

Conscious that he was in disgrace, Peter fidgeted uneasily with hisreins, whipped his horse, and cast some almost frightened glances overhis shoulder at the silent little figure beside him, then he coughedseveral times, and finally, with an effort which seemed to make his facebroader and redder every minute, began to speak:

"I'd sooner plough a field than talk any day, but but I'll tell yousomething if I can put it together. Words is so hard to frame, so as tosay what you mean. Maybe you'll only think me stupider after I'm done, but this is how it was--"

He stopped short, and Lilac said gently and encouragingly, "How was it, Peter?"

"I've had a sort of a queer feeling lately that there's somethingdifferent at the farm. Something that runs through everything, as youmight say. The beasts do their work as well again, and the sun shinesbrighter, and the flowers bloom prettier, and there's a kind of apleasantness about the place. I can't set it down to anything, any morethan I know why the sky's blue, but it's there all the same. So Ithought over it a deal, and one day I was up in the High field, and allof a sudden it rapped into my head what Grannie Dunch says about thebrownie as used to work at the farm. `Maybe, ' I says to myself, `he'scome back. ' So I didn't say nothing, but I took notice, and things wenton getting better, and I got to feel there was someone there helping onthe work--but I wasn't not to say _certain_ sure it was the brownie, till one night--"

"When?" said Lilac eagerly as Peter paused. 

"It was last Saint Barnaby's, and I'd been up to Cuddingham withNone-so-pretty. It was late when I got back, and I remembered I hadn'tlocked the stable door, and I went across the yard to do it--"

"Well?" said Lilac with breathless interest. 

"So as I went, it was most as light as day, and I saw as plain as couldbe something flit in at the stable door. 'Twasn't so big as a man, norso small as a boy, and its head was white. So then I thought, `Surely'tis the brownie, for night's his working time, ' and I'd half a mind totake a peep and see him at it. But they say if you look him in the facehe'll quit, so I just locked the door and left him there. When Bensontalked that way about the credit of the farm, I knew who we'd got tothank. Howsomever, " added Peter seriously, "you mustn't thank him, noryet pay him, else he'll spite you instead of working for you. "

As he finished his story he turned to his cousin a face beaming with themost childlike faith; but it suddenly clouded with disappointment, forLilac, no longer gravely attentive, was laughing heartily. 

"I thought maybe you'd laugh at me, " he said, turning his head awayashamed. 

Lilac checked her laughter. "Here's a riddle, " she said. "The brownieyou locked into the stable that night always makes the butter. He isn'tnever thanked nor yet paid, but you've looked him in the face scores oftimes. "

Peter gazed blankly at her. 

"You're doing of it now!" she cried with a chuckle of delight; "you'relooking at the brownie now! Why, you great goose, it's me as has madethe butter this ever so long, and it was me as was in the stable onSaint Barnaby's!"

It was only by very slow degrees that Peter could turn his mind from thebrownie, on whom it had been fixed for weeks past, to take in this newand astonishing idea. Even when Lilac had told her story many times, and explained every detail of how she had learnt to be dairymaid, hebroke out again:

"But how _could_ you do it? You didn't know before you came, andthere's Bella and Agnetta was born on the farm, and doesn't know now. Wonderful quick you must be, surely. And so little as you are--andquiet, " he went on, staring at his cousin. "You don't make no moreclatter nor fuss than a field-mouse. "

"'Tisn't only noisy big things as is useful, " said Lilac with somepride. 

"It's harder to believe than the brownie, " went on Peter, shaking hishead; "a deal more cur'ous. I thought I had got hold of him, but Idon't seem to understand this at all. "

He fell into deep thought, shaking his head at intervals, and it was notuntil the farm was in sight that he broke silence again. 

"The smallest person in the farm, " he said slowly, "has brought back thecredit of the farm. It's downright amazing. I'm not agoin' to say`thank you, ' though, " he added with a smile as they drove in at thegate. 

A sudden thought flashed into Lilac's mind. "Oh, Peter, " she cried, "the flowers was lovely on May Day, and the cactus is bloomingbeautiful! Was it the brownie as sent 'em, do you think?"

Peter made no reply to this, and his face was hidden, for he wasplunging down to collect the parcels in the back of the cart. Lilaclaughed as she ran into the house. What a funny one he was surely, andwhat a fine day's holiday she had been having!

CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

THE CONCERT. 

 "But I will wear my own brown gown And never look too fine. "

Months came and went. August turned his beaming yellow face on thewaving cornfields, and passed on leaving them shorn and bare. Then cameSeptember bending under his weight of apples and pears, and after himOctober, who took away the green mantle the woods had worn all thesummer, and gave them one of scarlet and gold. He spread on the ground, too, a gorgeous carpet of crimson leaves, which covered the hillsidewith splendour so that it glowed in the distance like fire. Here andthere the naked branches of the trees began to show sharply against thesky--soon it would be winter. Already it was so cold, that although itwas earlier than usual Miss Ellen said they must begin to think ofwarming the church, and to do this they must have some money, andtherefore the yearly village concert must be arranged. 

"It was the new curate as come to me about it, " said the cobbler to MrDimbleby one evening. "`You must give us a solo on the clar'net, MrSnell, ' says he. "

"He's a civil-spoken young feller enough, " remarked Mr Dimbleby, "buthe's too much of a boy to please me. The last was the man for mymoney. "

"Time'll mend that, " said Joshua. "And what I like about him is that hedon't bear no sort of malice when he's worsted in argeyment. We'd beendiffering over a passage of Scripture t'other day, and when he got up togo, `Ah, Mr Snell, ' says he, `you've a deal to learn. ' `And so haveyou, young man, ' says I. Bless you, he took it as pleasant as could be, and I've liked him ever since. "

He turned to Bella Greenways, who had just entered. 

"And what's _your_ place in the programme, Miss Greenways?"

Bella always avoided speaking to the cobbler if she could, for while shedespised him as a "low" person, she feared his opinion, and knew that hedisapproved of her. She now put on her most mincing air as she replied:

"Agnetta and me's to play a duet, the `Edinburgh Quadrilles, ' and MrBuckle accompanies on the drum and triangle. "

"Why, you'd better fall in too with the clar'net, Mr Snell, " suggestedMr Dimbleby. "That'd make a fine thing of it with four instruments. "

Joshua shook his head solemnly. 

"Mine's a solo, " he said. "A sacred one: `Sound the loud timbrel o'erEgypt's dark sea. ' That'll give a variety. "

"Mr Buckle's going to recite a beautiful thing, " put in Bella: "`TheDream of Eugene Aram'. He's been practising it ever so long. He'sgoing to do it with action. "

"I don't know as I can make much of that reciting, " said Joshuadoubtfully. "Now a good tune, or a song, or a bit of reading, I cantake hold of and carry along, but it's poor sport to see a man twisthisself, and make mouths, and point about at nothing at all. I rememberthe first time the curate did it. He stares straight at me for asecond, and then he shakes his fist and shouts out suddenly: `Wretch!'or `Villain!' or summat of that sort. I was so taken aback I nearly gotup and went out. Downright uncomfortable I was. "

"It's all the fashion now. But of course, " said Bella disdainfully, "itisn't everybody as is used to it. I'm sure it's beautiful to hearCharlie! It makes your blood run cold. There's a part where he has tospeak it in a sort of a hissing whisper. He's afraid the back seatswon't hear. "

"And a good thing for 'em, " muttered Joshua. "It's bad enough to see aman make a fool of hisself without having to hear him as well. "

"But after all, " continued Bella, without noticing this remark, "it'sonly the gentry as matter much, and they'll be in the two front rows. Mrs Leigh's going to bring some friends. "

"And what's Lilac White going to do?" said Joshua, turning round withsudden sharpness. "She used to sing the prettiest of 'em all atschool. "

"Oh, I dare say she'll sing in the part songs with the other children, "said Bella carelessly. "They haven't asked her for a solo. "

But although this was the case Lilac felt quite as interested andpleased as though she were to be the chief performer at the concert. When the programme was discussed at the farm, which was very often, shelistened eagerly, and was delighted to find that Mrs Leigh wished herto sing in two glees which she had learnt at school. The concert wouldbe unusually good this year, everyone said, and each performer felt asanxious about his or her part as if its success depended on that alone. Mr Buckle, next to his own recitation, relied a good deal on theintroduction of a friend of his from Lenham, who had promised to performon the banjo and sing a comic song--if possible. 

"If you can get Busby, " he repeated over and over again, "it'll be themaking of the thing, and so I told Mrs Leigh. "

"What did she say?" enquired Bella. 

"Well, she wanted to know what he would sing. But, as I said to her, you can't treat Busby as you would the people about here. He moves inhigher circles and he wouldn't stand it. You can't tie him down to aparticular song, he must sing what he feels inclined to. After all, Idon't suppose he'll come. He's so sought after. "

"Well, it is awkward, " said Bella, "not being certain--because of theprogramme. "

"Oh, they must just put down, _Song, Mr Busby_, and leave a blank. It's often done. "

Each time Mr Buckle dropped in at the farm just now he brought freshnews relating to Mr Busby. 

He could, or could not come to the concert, so that an exciting state ofuncertainty was kept up. As the day grew nearer the news changed. Busby would certainly _come_, but he had a dreadful cold so that it washardly probable he would be able to sing. Lilac heard it all with thegreatest sympathy. The house seemed full of the concert from morningtill night. As she went about her work the strains of the "EdinburghQuadrilles" sounded perpetually from the piano in the parlour. Sometimes it was Agnetta alone, slowly pounding away at the bass, andoften coming down with great force and determination on the wrongchords; sometimes Bella and Agnetta at the same time, the treble dashingalong brilliantly, and the bass lumbering heavily in the distance butcontriving to catch it up at the end by missing a few bars; sometimesMr Buckle arriving with his drum and triangle there was a grandperformance of all three, when Lilac and Molly, taking furtive peeps atthem through the half-open door, were struck with the sincerestadmiration and awe. It was indeed wonderful as well as deafening tohear the noise that could be got out of those three instruments; theyseemed to be engaged in a sort of battle in which first one wastriumphant and then another. 

"It's a _little_ loud for this room, " observed Mr Buckle complacently, "but it'll sound very well at the concert. " Bella felt sure that itwould be far the best thing in the programme, not only because theexecution was spirited and brilliant but on account of the stylishappearance of the performers. Mr Buckle had been persuaded to wear hisvolunteer uniform on the occasion, in which, with his drum slung fromhis shoulders and the triangle fastened to a chair, so that he couldkick it with one foot, he made a very imposing effect. 

Agnetta and Bella had coaxed their mother into giving them new dressesof a bright blue colour called "electric", which, being made up bythemselves in the last fashion, were calculated to attract all eyes. 

These preparations, whilst they excited and interested Lilac, also madeher a little envious. She began to wish she had something pretty to puton in honour of the concert, and even to have a faint hope that her auntmight give her a new dress too. But this did not seem even to occur toMrs Greenways, and Lilac soon gave up all thoughts of it with a sigh. Her Sunday frock was very shabby, but after all just to stand up amongstthe other children it would not show much. She took it out of her boxand looked at it: perhaps there was something she could do to smarten itup a little. It certainly hung in a limp flattened manner across thebed, and was even beginning to turn a rusty colour; nothing would makeit look any different. Would one of her cottons be better, Lilacwondered anxiously. But none of the children would wear cottons, sheknew--they all put on their Sunday best for the concert. The blackfrock must do. She could put a clean frill in the neck, and brush herhair very neatly, but that was all. There was no one she remembered totake much notice what she wore, so it did not matter. 

The evening came. Everyone had practised their parts and brought themto a high pitch of perfection; and except Mr Busby, whose appearancewas still uncertain, everyone was prepared to fill their places in theprogramme. 

"You won't find two better-looking girls than that, " said Mrs Greenwaysto her husband, looking proudly at her two daughters. "That blue doesset 'em off, to be sure!"

"La!" said Bella with a giggle, "I feel that nervous I know I shallbreak down. I'm all of a twitter. "

"Well, it's no matter how you _play_ as long as you look well, " saidMrs Greenways; "with Charlie making all that noise on the drum, youonly hear the piano now and again. But where's Lilac!" she added. "It's more than time we started. "

Lilac had been ready long ago, and waiting for her cousins, but justbefore they came downstairs she had caught sight of Peter looking intothe room from the garden, and making mysterious signs to her to comeout. When she appeared he held towards her a bunch of small red andwhite chrysanthemums. "Here's a posy for you, " he said. "Stick it inyour front. They're a bit frost-bitten, but they're better thannothing. "

Lilac took the flowers joyfully; after all she was not to be quiteunadorned at the concert. 

"You ain't got a new frock, " he continued, looking at her seriously whenshe had fastened them in her dress. "You look nice, though. "

"Ain't you coming?" asked Lilac. She felt that she should miss Peter'sfriendly face when she sang, and that she should like him to hear her. 

"Presently, " he said. "Got summat to see to first. "

When the party reached the school-house it was already late. TheGreenways were always late on such occasions. The room was full, andMr Martin, the curate, who had the arrangement of it all, was bustlingabout with a programme in his hand, finding seats for the audience, greeting acquaintances, and rushing into the inner room at intervals tosee if the performers had arrived. 

"All here?" he said. "Then we'd better begin. Drum and fife band!"

The band, grinning with embarrassment and pleasure, stumbled up therickety steps on to the platform. The sounds of their instruments andthen the clapping and stamping of the audience were plainly heard in thegreen room, which had only a curtain across the doorway. 

"Lor'!" said Bella, pulling it a little on one side and peeping throughat the audience, "there _is_ a lot of people! Packed just as close asherrings. There's a whole row from the Rectory. How I do palpitate, tobe sure! I wish Charlie was here!"

Mr Buckle soon arrived with vexation on his brow. No sign of Busby!He was down twice in the programme, and there was hardly a chance hewould turn up. It was too bad of Busby to throw them over like that. He might at least have _come_. 

"Well, if he wasn't going to sing I don't see the good of that, " saidBella; "but it _is_ a pity. "

"It just spoils the whole thing, " said Mr Buckle, and the otherperformers agreed. But to Lilac nothing could spoil the concert. Itwas all beautiful and glorious, and she thought each thing grander thanthe last. Uncle Joshua's solo almost brought tears to her eyes, partlyof affection and pride and partly because he extracted such lovely andstirring sounds from the clar'net. It made her think of her mother andthe cottage, and of so many dear old things of the past, that she feltsorrowful and happy at once. Next she was filled with awe by MrBuckle's recitation, which, however, fell rather flat on the rest of theassembly; and then came the "Edinburgh Quadrilles", in which theperformers surpassed themselves in banging and clattering. Lilac wasquite carried away by enthusiasm. She stood as close to the curtain asshe could, clapping with all her might. The programme was now nearlyhalf over, and Mr Busby's first blank had been filled up by someoneelse. Mr Martin came hurriedly in. 

"Who'll sing or play something?" he said. "We must fill up this secondplace or the programme will be too short. "

His glance fell upon Lilac. 

"Why, you're the little girl who was Queen? You can sing, I know. That'll do capitally--come along. "

Lilac shrank back timidly. It was an honour to be singled out in thatway, but it was also most alarming. She looked appealingly at hercousin Bella, who at once came forward. 

"I don't think she knows any songs alone, sir, " she said; "but I'll playsomething if you like. "

"Oh, thank you, Miss Greenways, " said Mr Martin hastily, "we've had somuch playing I think they'd like a song. I expect she knows some littlething--don't you?" to Lilac. 

Lilac hesitated. There stood Mr Martin in front of her, eager andurgent, with outstretched hand as though he would hurry her at once tothe platform; there was Bella fixing a mortified and angry gaze uponher; and, in the background, the other performers with surprise anddisapproval on their faces. She felt that she _could_ not do it, andyet it was almost as impossible to disoblige Mr Martin, the habit ofobedience, especially to a clergyman, was so strong within her. Suddenly there sounded close to her ear a gruff and friendly voice:

"Give 'em the `Last Rose of Summer', Lilac. You can sing that verypretty. " It came from Uncle Joshua. 

"The very thing!" exclaimed Mr Martin. "Couldn't possibly be better, and I'll play it for you. Come along!"

Without more words Lilac found herself hurried out of the room, up thesteps, and on to the platform, with Mr Martin seated at the piano. Breathless and frightened she stood for a second half uncertain whetherto turn and run away. There were so many faces looking up at her frombelow, and she felt so small and unprotected standing there alone infront of them. Her heart beat fast, her lips were as though fastenedtogether, how could she possibly sing? Suddenly in the midst of thatdim mass of heads she caught sight of something that encouraged her. Itwas Peter's round red face with mouth and eyes open to their widestextent, and it stood out from all the rest, just as it had done on MayDay. Then it had vexed her to see it, now it was such a comfort that itfilled her with courage. Instead of running away she straightenedherself up, folded her hands neatly in front of her, and took a longbreath. When Mr Martin looked round at her she was able to begin, andthough her voice trembled a little it was sweet and clear, and could beheard quite to the end of the room. Very soon she forgot her rearsaltogether, and felt as much at her ease as though she were singing inUncle Joshua's cottage as she had done so often. The audience kept themost perfect silence, and gazed at her attentively throughout. It was avery simple little figure in its straight black frock, its red and whitenosegay, and thick, laced boots, and it looked all the more so after theribbons and finery of those which had come before it; yet there was acertain dignity about its very simplicity, and the earnest expression inthe small face showed that Lilac was not thinking of herself, but wasonly anxious to sing her song as well as she could. She finished it, and dropped the straight little curtsy she had been taught at school. "After all it had not been so bad, " she thought with relief, as sheturned to go away in the midst of an outburst of claps and stamps fromthe audience. But she was not allowed to go far, for it soon becameevident that they wanted her to sing again; nothing in the wholeprogramme had created so much excitement as this one little simple song. They applauded not only in the usual manner but even by shouts andwhistling, and through it all was to be heard the steady thump, thump, thump of a stick on the floor from the middle of the room where Petersat. Lilac looked round half-frightened at Mr Martin as the noise rosehigher and higher, and made her way quickly to the steps which led fromthe platform. 

"They won't leave off till you sing again, " he said, following her, "though we settled not to have any encores. You'd better sing the lastverse. "

So it turned out that Lilac's song was the most successful performanceof the evening; it was impossible to conceal the fact that it had wonmore applause than anything, not even excepting the "EdinburghQuadrilles. " This was felt to be most unjust, for she had taken notrouble in preparing it, and was not even properly dressed to receivesuch an honour. 

"I must own, " said Mrs Greenways in a mortified tone, "that I did feeldisgraced to see Lilac standing up there in that old black frock. Ican't think what took hold of the folks to make so much fuss with her. But there! 'Tain't the best as gets the most praise. "

"I declare, " added Bella bitterly, "it's a thankless task to get upanything for the people here. They're so ignorant they don't knowwhat's what. To think of passing over Charley's recitation and encoringa silly old song like Lilac's. It's a good thing Mr Busby _didn't_come, I think--he wouldn't 'a been appreciated. "

"'Twasn't only the poor people though, " said Agnetta. "I saw thosefriends of Mrs Leigh's clapping like anything. "

"Ah, well, " said Mrs Greenways, "Lilac's parents were greatly respectedin the parish, and that's the reason of it. She hasn't got no cause tobe set up as if it was her singing that pleased 'em. " Lilac had indeedvery little opportunity of being "set up. " After the first glow ofpleasure in her success had faded, she began to find more reason to becast down. Her aunt and cousins were so jealous of the applause she hadgained that they lost no occasion of putting her in what they called herproper place, of showing her that she was insignificant, a mere nobody;useless they could not now consider her, but she had to pay dearly forher short triumph at the concert. The air just now seemed full of sharpspeeches and bitterness, and very often after a day of unkind buffetsshe cried herself to sleep, longing for someone to take her part, andsore at the injustice of it all. 

"'Tain't as if I'd wanted to sing, " she said to herself. "They made me, and now they flout me for it. "

But her unexpected appearance in public had another and most surprisingresult. 

About a week after the concert, when the excitement was lessening andthe preparations for Bella's wedding were beginning to take its place, Mrs Greenways was sent for to the Rectory--Mrs Leigh wished to speakto her. 

"I shouldn't wonder, " she said to her husband before she started, "if itwas to ask what Bella'd like for a present. What'd you say?"

"I shouldn't wonder if it was nothing of the kind, " replied MrGreenways. "More likely about the rent. "

But Mrs Greenways held to her first opinion. It would not be about therent, for Mrs Leigh never mentioned it to her. 

No. It was about the present; and very fitting too, when she called tomind how long her husband had been Mr Leigh's tenant. To be sure hehad generally owed some rent, but the Greenways had always held theirheads high and been respected in spite of their debts. 

On her way to the Rectory, therefore, she carefully considered whatwould be best to choose for Bella and Charlie. Should it be somethingornamental--a gilt clock, or a mirror with a plush frame for thedrawing-room? They would both like that, but she knew Mrs Leigh wouldprefer their asking for something useful; perhaps a set of tea-thingswould be as good as anything. 

These reflections made the distance short, yet an hour later, when, herinterview over, Mrs Greenways reappeared at the farm, her face waslengthened and her footstep heavy with fatigue. What could havehappened? Something decidedly annoying, for she snapped even at herdarling Agnetta when she asked questions. 

"Don't bother, " she said, "let's have tea. I'm tired out. "

During the meal her daughters cast curious glances at her and at eachother, for it was a most unusual thing for their mother to bear hertroubles quietly. As a rule the more vexed she was the more talkativeshe became. It must therefore be something out of the common, theyconcluded; and before long it appeared that it was the presence of Lilacthat kept Mrs Greenways silent. She threw angry looks at her, full ofdiscontent, and presently, unable to control herself longer, saidsharply:

"When you've finished, Lilac, I want you to run to Dimbleby's for me. Iforgot the starch. If you hurry you'll be there and back afore dusk. "

CHAPTER TWELVE. 

LILAC'S CHOICE. 

 "A stone that is fit for the wall will not be left in the way. "--_Old Proverb_. 

As the door closed on Lilac, the news burst forth from Mrs Greenways insuch a torrent that it was difficult at first to follow, but at lengthshe managed to make clear to her astonished hearers all that had passedbetween herself and Mrs Leigh. It was this: A lady staying at theRectory had seen Lilac at the concert, and asked whom she was. Whereupon, hearing her history and her present occupation at OrchardsFarm, she made the following suggestion. She wanted a second dairymaid, and was greatly pleased with Lilac's appearance and neat dress. WouldMrs Leigh find out whether her friends would like her to take such asituation? She would give her good wages, and raise them if she foundher satisfactory. "It's a great opportunity for a child like Lilac, "Mrs Leigh had said to Mrs Greenways; "but I really think from what Ihear of her that she is quite fit to take such a place. "

"Well, as to that, " said Mr Greenways slowly when his wife paused forbreath, "I suppose she is. If she can manage the dairy alone here, shecan do it with someone over her there. "

"Now I wonder who _could_ 'a told Mrs Leigh that Lilac made ourbutter, " said Mrs Greenways; "somehow or other that child gets roundeveryone with her quiet ways. "

"Most likely that interfering old Joshua Snell, " said Bella, "or Petermaybe, or Ben. They all think no end of Lilac. "

"Well, I don't see myself what they find in her, " said Mrs Greenways;"though she's a good child enough and useful in her way. I should missher now I expect; though, of course, " with a glance at her husband, "shewouldn't leave us, not so long as we wanted her. "

"That's for _her_ to say, " said the farmer. "I'm not going to take achance like that out of her mouth. She's a good little gal and a creditto her mother, and it's only fair and right she should choose forherself. Go or stay, I won't have a word said to her. 'Tain't everychild of her age as has an offer like that, and she's deserved it. "

"And who taught her all she knows?" said Mrs Greenways wrathfully. "Who gave her a home when she wanted one, and fed and kep' her? And nowas she's just beginning to be a bit of use, she's to take herself off atthe first chance! I haven't common patience with you, Greenways, whenyou talk like that. It's all very well for you; and I s'pose you'reready to pay for a dairymaid in her place. But I know this: If Lilac'sgot a drop of gratitude in her, and a bit of proper feeling, she'llthink first of what she owes to her only relations living. "

"Well, you ought to 'a told her how useful she was if you wanted her toknow it, " said Mr Greenways. "You've always gone on the other tack andtold her she was no good at all. I shouldn't blame her if she wanted totry if she could please other folks better. "

There was so much truth in this, that in spite of Mrs Greenways' angerit sank deeply into her mind. Why had she not made more of Lilac? Whatshould she do, if the child, with the consent of her uncle andencouraged by Mrs Leigh, were to choose to leave the farm? It was notunlikely, for although she had not been actively unkind to Lilac she hadnever tried to make her happy at the farm; her jealousy had preventedthat. And then, the money--that would be a great temptation; and theoffer of it seemed to raise Lilac's value enormously. In short, nowthat someone else wanted her, and was willing to pay for her services, she became twice as important in Mrs Greenways' eyes. One by one thevarious duties rose before her which Lilac fulfilled, and which would beleft undone if she went away. She sat silent for a few minutes in moodythought. 

"I didn't say nothing certain to Mrs Leigh, " she remarked at length, "but I did mention as how we'd never had any thought of Lilac takingservice, no more nor Agnetta or Bella. "

"Lor', Ma!" said Bella, "the ideer!"

"All the same, " said the farmer, "when we first took Lilac we said we'dkeep her till she was old enough for a place. The child's made herselfof use, and you don't want to part with her. That's the long and theshort of it. But I stand by what I say. She shall settle it as shelikes. She shall go to Mrs Leigh and hear about it, and then no oneshan't say a word to her, for or against. When's she got to decide?"

"In a week, " answered his wife. "But you're doing wrong, Greenways, youhadn't ought to put it on the child's shoulders; it's us as ought todecide for her, us as are in the place of her father and mother. She'stoo young to know what's for her good. "

"I stand by what I say, " repeated the farmer, and he slapped the tablewith his hand. Mrs Greenways knew then that it was useless to opposehim further, and the conversation came to an end. 

Now, when the matter was made known to Lilac, it seemed more like adream than anything real. She had become so used to remain in thebackground, and go quietly on at her business without notice, that shecould not at first believe in the great position offered to her. Shewas considered worth so much money a year! It was wonderful. 

After she had seen Mrs Leigh, and heard that it really was true and nodream, another feeling began to take the place of wonder, and that wasperplexity. The choice, they told her, was to remain in her own hands, and no one would interfere with it. What would be best? To go or stay?It was very difficult, almost impossible, to decide. Never in hershort life had she yet been obliged to choose in any matter; there hadalways been a necessity which she had obeyed: "Do this, " "Go there. "The habit of obedience was strong within her, but it was very hard to besuddenly called to act for herself. And the worst of it was that no onewould help her; even Mrs Leigh only said: "I shan't persuade you oneway or the other, Lilac, I shall leave it to you and your relations toconsider. " Uncle Joshua had no counsel either. "You must put oneagainst the other and decide for yourself, my maid, " he said; "there'llbe ups and downs wherever you go. " She studied her aunt's facewistfully, and found no help there. Mrs Greenways kept complete andgloomy silence on the question. 

Thrown back upon herself, Lilac's perplexity grew with each day. If shewent to sleep with her mind a little settled to one side of the matter, she woke up next morning to see many more advantages on the other. Toleave Orchards Farm, and the village, and all the faces she had knownsince she could remember anything, and go to strangers! That would bedreadful. But then, there was the money to be thought of, and perhapsshe might find the strangers kinder than her own relations. "It's likeweighing out the butter, " she said to herself; "first one side up andthen t'other. " If only someone would say you _must_ go, or you _must_stay. 

During this week of uncertainty many things at the farm lookedpleasanter than they had ever done before, and she was surprised at theinterest everyone in the village took in her new prospects. They allhad something to say about them, and though this did not help herdecision but rather hindered it, she was pleased to find that they caredso much for her. 

"And so you're goin' away, " said poor Mrs Wishing, fluttering into thefarm one day and finding Lilac alone. "Seems as if I was to lose theon'y friend I've got. But I dunno. There was your poor mother, she wastook, and now I shan't see you no more. 'Tain't as I see you often, butI know you might drop in anywhen and there's comfort in that. Lor'! Ishouldn't be standing here now if you hadn't come in that night--I waspretty nigh gone home that time. Might a been better p'r'aps for me andDan'l too if I had. But you meant it kind. "

"Maybe I shan't go away after all, " said Lilac soothingly. 

"You're one of the lucky ones, " continued Mrs Wishing. "I allers saidthat. Fust you get taken into a beautiful home like this, and then youget a place as a gal twice your age would jump at. Some gets all theups and some gets all the downs. But _I_ dunno!"

She went on her way with a weary hitch of the basket on her arm, and apull at her thin shawl. Then Bella's voice sounded beseechingly on thestairs:

"Oh, _do_ come here a minute, Lilac. "

Bella was generally to be found in her bedroom just now, stitching awayat various elegancies of costume. She turned to her cousin as sheentered, and said with a puzzled frown:

"I'm in ever such a fix with this skirt. I can't drape it like thepicture do what I will, it hangs anyhow. And Agnetta can't manage iteither. "

Agnetta stood by, her face heated with fruitless labour, and her mouthfull of pins. 

Lilac examined the skirt gravely. 

"You haven't got enough stuff in it, " she said. "You'll have to do itup some other way. "

"Pin it up somehow, then, and see what you can do, " said Bella. "I'msick and tired of it. "

Lilac was not quite without experience in such things, for she had oftenhelped her cousins with their dressmaking, and she now succeeded after afew trials in looping up the skirt to Bella's satisfaction. 

"_That's_ off my mind, thank goodness!" she exclaimed. "You're aneat-fingered little thing; I don't know what we shall do without you. "

It was a small piece of praise, but coming from Bella it sounded great. 

Lilac's affairs, her probable departure from the farm and how she wouldbe much missed there, were much talked of in the village just now. Thenews even reached Lenham, carried by the active legs and eager tongue ofMrs Pinhorn, who, with many significant nods, as of one who could tellmore if she chose, gave Mr Benson to understand that he might shortlyfind a difference in the butter. It was not for _her_ to speak, withBen working at the farm since a boy, but--So even the great andimportant Mr Benson was prepared to be interested in Lilac's choice. 

She often wondered, as day after day went by so quickly and left herstill undecided, what her mother would have advised her to do. Butthen, if her mother had been alive, all this would not have happened. She tried nevertheless to imagine what she would have said about it, andto remember past words which might be of help to her now. "Stand onyour own feet and don't be beholden to anyone. " Certainly by takingthis situation she would follow that advice, and child though she was, she knew it might be the beginning of greater things. If she filledthis place well she might in time get another, and be worth even moremoney. But then, could she leave the farm? the home which had shelteredher when she had been left alone in the world. Who would take herplace? No one could deny now that she would leave a blank which must befilled up. She could hardly bear to think of a stranger standing in heraccustomed spot in the dairy, handling the butter, looking out of thelittle ivy-grown window, taking charge of the poultry. "They'll feed'em different, maybe, " she thought; "and they won't get half the eggs, Iknow they won't. " How hard it would be, too, to leave the faces she hadknown from childhood, all so familiar, and some of them so dear: nothuman faces alone, but all sorts of kind and friendly ones, belonging tothe dumb animals, as she called them. She would miss the beasts sorely, and they would miss her: the cows she was learning to milk, the greathorses who jingled their medals and bowed their heads so gently as shestood on tiptoe to feed them, the clever old donkey who could unfastenany gate and let all the animals out of a field: the pigs, even thesheep, who were silliest of all, knew her well and showed pleasure ather coming. She looked with affection, too, at the bare little attic, out of whose window she had gazed so often with eyes full of tears atthe white walls of her old home on the hillside. How hard it had beento leave it, and now it made her almost as sad to think of going awayfrom the farm. 

But then--there was the money, and although Mrs Leigh said nothing infavour of her going to this new place, Lilac had a feeling that shereally wished it, and would be disappointed if she gave it up. Everyonesaid it was such a chance!

It was not altogether a fancy on Lilac's part that everyone at the farmlooked at her kindly just now, for the idea of losing her made themsuddenly conscious that she would be very much missed. Mrs Greenwayswatched her with anxiety, and there was a new softness in her way ofspeaking; her old friends, Molly and Ben, were eager in showing theirgoodwill, and Agnetta, in spite of the approaching excitement of Bella'swedding, found time to enquire many times during the day if Lilac "hadmade up her mind. "

"Of course you meant to go from the first, " she said at length. "Well, I don't blame you, but you might 'a said so to an old friend like me. "

The only person at the farm who was sincerely indifferent to Lilac'schoice was Bella. 

"It won't make any matter to me whether you're here or there, " she saidcandidly; "but there's no doubt it'll make a difference to Ma. There'ssome as would call it demeaning to go out to service, but I don't lookat it like that. Of course if it was me or Agnetta it wouldn't bethought of; but I agree with Pa that it's right you should choose foryourself. "

So no one helped Lilac, and the days passed and the last one came, whileshe was still as far as ever from deciding. Escaping from the chatterand noises inside the house she went out towards evening into the gardenfor a little peace and quietness. She wanted to be alone and think itover for the last time; after that she would go to Mrs Leigh and tellher what she meant to do, and then all the worry would be over. Shestrolled absently along, with the same tiresome question in her mind, through the untidy bushy garden, past Peter's flower bed, gay withchrysanthemums and Michaelmas daisies, until she came to the row ofbeehives, silent, deserted-looking dwellings now with only one or twolanguid inhabitants to be seen crawling torpidly about the entrances. Lilac sat down on the cherry-tree stump opposite them, and, for a momentleaving the old subject, her mind went back to the spring evening whenPeter had cut the bunch of flowers for her, and let the bees crawl overhis fingers. She smiled to herself as she remembered how suddenly hehad gone away without giving her the nosegay at all. Poor Peter! sheunderstood him better now. As she thought this there was a click of thegate leading into the field, she turned her head, and there was Peterhimself coming towards her with his dog Sober at his heels. 

During this past week Peter as well as Lilac had been turning thingsover a great deal in his mind. Not that he was troubled by uncertainty, for he felt sure from the first that she would go away from the farm. And it was best she should. From outward ill-treatment he could havedefended her: he was strong in the arm, but with his tongue he wasweaker than a child. Many a time he had sat in silence when hard orunkind speeches had been cast at her, but none the less he had felt itsorely. After the concert, when she had sung as pretty as a bird, howthey had flouted her. It was a hard thing surely, and it was best sheshould go away to folks as would value her better. But he felt alsothat he must tell her he was sorry. That was a trial and a difficulty. How should he frame it? Though he could talk more easily to Lilac thananyone else in the world, speech was still terribly hard, and when hesuddenly came upon her this evening his first instinct was to turn andgo back. Sober, however, pricked his ears and ran forward when he saw afriend, and this example encouraged Peter. 

"As like as not, " he said to himself, "I shall say summat quitedifferent the minute I begin, but I'll have a try at it;" so he went on. 

There was a touch of frost in the air, and the few remaining leaves, sofew that you could count them, were falling every minute or so gentlyfrom the trees. A scarlet one from the cherry tree overhead had droppedinto Lilac's lap, and lay there, a bright red spot on her whitepinafore. As Peter's eye fell on it it occurred to him to say gruffly:"The leaves is nearly all gone. "

"Pretty nigh, " said Lilac, looking up into the bare branches of thecherry tree. "We'll soon have winter now. "

There was silence. Peter took off his hat and rubbed his forehead withhis coat sleeve. 

"There's lots will be sorry when you go, " he burst out suddenly. "Thebeasts'll miss you above a bit. "

Lilac did not answer. She saw that he wanted to say something more, andknew that it was best not to confuse his mind by remarks. 

"Not but what, " he went on, "you're in the right. Why should you workfor nothing here and get no thanks? You're worth your wages, and thereyou'll get 'em. There's justice in that. Only--the farm'll bedifferent. "

"There's only the dairy, " said Lilac. "Someone else'll have to do thatif I go. And I should miss the beasts too. "

She put her hand on Sober's rough head as he sat by her. 

"It's a queer thing, " said Peter after another pause, "what a lot I getin my head sometimes and yet I can't speak it out. You remember aboutthe brownie, and me saying the farm was pleasanter and that? Well, whatI want to say now is, that when you're gone all that'll be gone--mostly. It'll be like winter after summer. Anyone as could use language couldsay a deal about that, but I can't. I don't want you to stay, but I'vehad it in my mind to tell you that I shall miss you as well as thebeasts--above a bit. That's all. "

Sober now seemed to think he must add something to his master's speech, for he raised one paw, placed it on Lilac's knee, and gazed with a sortof solemn entreaty into her face. She knew at once what he wanted, forthough he could not "use language" any more than Peter, he was quiteable to make his meaning clear. In the course of many years' faithfulattention to business he had become rheumatic, and this paw, inparticular was swollen and stiff at the joint. Lilac had found that itgave him ease to rub it, and Sober had got into the habit of calling herattention to it in this way at all times and seasons. Now as she tookit in her hand and looked into his wise affectionate eyes, it suddenlystruck her that here were two people who would really miss her, and wanther if she were far away. No one would rub Sober's paw, no one wouldtake much notice of her other dumb friend, Peter. She could not leavethem. She placed the dog's foot gently on the ground and stood up. 

"I'm not going away, " she said, "I'm going to bide. And I shall gostraight in and tell Aunt, and then it'll be settled. "

Indoors, meanwhile, the same subject had been discussed betweendifferent people. In the living room, where tea was ready on the table, Mrs Greenways and her two daughters waited the coming of the farmer, Agnetta eyeing a pot of her favourite strawberry jam rather impatiently, and Bella, tired with her stitching, leaning languidly back in her chairwith folded arms. 

"Lilac ain't said nothing to either of you, I s'pose?" began MrsGreenways. 

"I know she means to go, though, " said Agnetta. 

"Well, I must look about for a girl for the dairy, I s'pose, " said MrsGreenways sadly. "I won't give it to Molly again. And a nice set theyare, giggling flighty things with nothing but their ribbons and theirsweethearts in their heads. "

"Lor'! Ma, don't fret, " said Bella consolingly; "you got along withoutLilac before, and you'll get along without her again. "

"I shan't ever replace her, " continued her mother in the same dejectedvoice; "she doesn't care for ribbons, and she's not old enough forsweethearts. I do think it's not acting right of Mrs Leigh to go andentice her away. "

"If here isn't Mr Snell coming in alonger Pa, " said Agnetta, craningher neck to see out of the window. "He's sure to stay to tea. " Sheimmediately drew her chair up to the table and helped herself largely tojam. 

"And of all evenings in the week I wish he hadn't chosen this, " saidMrs Greenways. "Poking and meddling in other folks' concerns. Nowmind this, girls, --don't you let on as if I wanted to keep Lilac, or wassorry she's going. Do you hear?"

It did not at first appear, however, that this warning was necessary, for Joshua said no word of Lilac or her affairs; he seemed fullyoccupied in drinking a great deal of tea and discussing the events ofthe neighbourhood with the farmer, and it was not till the end of hismeal that he looked round the table enquiringly, and asked the dreadedquestion. 

"And what's Lilac settled to do about going?"

"You know as much about that as we do, Mr Snell, " replied MrsGreenways loftily. 

"There's no doubt, " continued the cobbler, fixing his eye upon her, "ashow Mrs Leigh's friend is going to get a prize in Lilac White. She'sonly a child, as you once said, ma'am, but I know what her upbringingwas: `As the twig is bent, the tree's inclined'. There's the making ofa thorough good servant in her. Well worth her wages she'll be. "

"She's been worth more to us already than ever I knew of, or counted on, till lately, " put in the farmer. "Just now, I met Benson, and says he:`You're losing your dairymaid by what I hear, and I can but wish you asgood a one. '"

"That's not so easy, " said Joshua, shaking his head. "Good workersdon't grow on every bush. It's a pity, too, just when your butter wasgetting back its name. "

"I'd half a mind, " said the farmer, "to offer the child wages to stop, but then I thought it wouldn't be acting fair. She ought to have thechance of bettering herself in a place like that. If she goes she'sbound to rise, and if she stays she won't, for I can't afford to giveher much. "

"And what's your opinion, ma'am?" asked Joshua politely of MrsGreenways. 

"Oh, it isn't worth hearing, Mr Snell, " she replied with a bitterlaugh; "its too old-fashioned for these days. I should 'a thought Lilacowed summat to us, but my husband don't seem to take no count of that atall. Not that it matters to me. "

As she spoke, with the colour rising in her face and a voice very neartears, the door opened and Lilac came quickly in. The conversationstopped suddenly, all eyes were fixed on her; perhaps never since shehad been Queen had her presence caused so much attention: even Agnettapaused in her repast, and looked curiously round to see what she woulddo or say. 

Without giving a glance at anyone else in the room, Lilac walkedstraight up to where Mrs Greenways sat at the head of the table:

"Aunt, " she said rather breathlessly, "I've come to say as I've made upmy mind. "

Mrs Greenways straightened herself to receive the blow. She knew whatwas coming, and it was hard to be humiliated in the presence of thecobbler, yet she would put a brave face upon it. With a great effortshe managed to say carelessly:

"It don't matter just now, Lilac. Sit down and get your tea. "

But Mr Greenways quite spoilt the effect of this speech. 

"No, no, " he called out. "Let her speak. Let's hear what she's got tosay. Here's Mr Snell'd like to hear it too. Speak out, Lilac. "

Thus encouraged, Lilac turned a little towards her uncle and Joshua. 

"I've made up my mind as I'd rather bide here, please, " she said. 

The teapot fell from Mrs Greenways' hands with such a crash on the traythat all the cups rattled, the air of indifference which she hadstruggled to keep up vanished, her whole face softened, and as shelooked at the modest little figure standing at her side tears of reliefcame into her eyes. Uncle Joshua and her old feelings of jealousy andpride were forgotten for the moment as she laid her broad hand kindly onthe child's shoulder:

"You're a good gal, Lilac, and you shan't repent your choice, " she said;"take my word, you shan't. "

"And that's your own will, is it, Lilac?" said her uncle. "And you'vethought it well over, and you won't want to be altering it again?"

"No, Uncle, " said Lilac. "I'm quite sure now. " Her aunt's kind mannermade her feel more firmly settled than before. 

"It's a harassing thing is a choice, " said Mr Greenways. "I know whatit is myself with the roots and seeds. Well, I won't deny that I'm gladyou're going to stop, but I hope you've done the best for yourself, mymaid. "

"Lor', Greenways, don't worry the child, " interrupted his wife, who hadrecovered her usual manner. "She knows her own mind, and I'm glad she'sshown so much sense. You sit down and get your tea, Lilac, and let's becomfortable and no more about it. "

Lilac slipped into the empty place between the cobbler and Agnetta, rather abashed at so much notice. Agnetta pushed the pot of jam towardsher. 

"I'm glad you're going to stop, " she said. "Have some jam. "

Joshua had not spoken since Lilac's entrance, but Mrs Greenways, eyeinghim nervously, felt sure he was preparing to "preachify. " She went ontalking very fast and loud in the hope of checking this eloquence, butin vain; Joshua, after a few short coughs, stood upright and lookedround the table. 

"Friends, " he said, "I knew Lilac's mother well, and I call to mind thisevening what she often said to me: `I want my child to grow upself-respecting and independent. I want to teach her to stand alone andnot to be a burden on anyone. ' And then, poor soul, she died sudden, and the child was left on your hands. And she couldn't but be a burdenat first, seeing how young she was and how little she knew. And nowlook at it! How it's all changed. 'Tain't long ago, and she isn't muchbigger to speak of, and yet she's got to be something as you value anddon't want to part with. She's made her own place, and she stands firmin it on her own feet, and no one would fill it as well. It's wonderfulthat is, how small things may help big ones. Look at it!" said Joshua, spreading out the palms of his hands. "You take a little weak childinto your house and think she's of no count at all, either to help or tohinder; she's so small and the place is so big you hardly know she'sthere. And then one day you wake up to find that she's gone quietly ondoing her best, and learning to do better, until she's come to be one ofthe most useful people on the farm. Because for why? It's her mother'stoil and trouble finding their fruit; we oughtn't to forget that. Whenfolks are dead and gone it's hard on 'em not to call to mind what we owe'em. They sowed and we reap. Lilac's come to be what she is becauseher mother was what she was, and I expect Mary White's proud and pleasedenough to see how her child's valued this day. And so I wish the farmluck, and all of you luck, and we'll all be glad to think as we're notgoing to lose our little bit of White Lilac as is growing up amongstus. "

Lilac's eyes had been fixed shyly on her plate. It was like being Queena second time to have everyone looking at her and talking of her. AsJoshua finished there was a sound at the door of gruff assent, and shelooked round. It came from Peter, who stood there with all his featuresstretched into a wide smile of pleasure. 

"They're all glad I'm going to bide, " she said to herself, "and so amI. "