A Big Temptation. [Illustration: "_What are you doing with that baby?_"] A Big Temptation By L. T. Meade, And Other Stories by M. B. Manwell and Maggie Browne Illustrated by Arthur A. Dixon LONDON: _Printed in Bavaria. _ _NEW YORK:_ ERNEST NISTER. 640. E. P. DUTTON & CO. [Illustration] A Big Temptation By L. T. Meade. Netty stood on the doorstep of a rickety old house and nursed the baby. She was ten years old and had the perfectly white face of a child whohad never felt any fresher air than that which blows in a London court. It is true that the year before she had gone with her brother Ben intothe country. The Ladies' Committee of the Holiday Fund had arranged thematter, and Netty and Ben had gone away. They had spent a wholedelicious fortnight in a place where trees waved, and the air blewfresh, and there were lots of wildflowers to pick; and she had run aboutunder the trees, and slept at night in the tiniest little room in theworld, and in the cleanest bed, and had awakened each morning to hearthe doves cooing and the birds singing, and she had thought then that nohappiness could be greater than hers. This had happened a year ago, and since then a new baby had arrived, and the baby was rather sickly, and whenever Netty was not at school shewas lugging the baby about or trying to rock him to sleep. She wasbaby's nurse, and she was not at all sorry, for she loved the baby andthe occupation gave her time to dream. Netty had big dark-blue eyes, which showed bigger and darker than everin the midst of her white little face. She could talk to the baby aboutthe country. How often she had told him the story of that brieffortnight! "And you know, baby, there were real flowers growing; we picked them, Ben and I, and we rolled about in the grass; yes, we did. You needn'tbelieve it unless you like, baby, but we did. Oh! it was fine. I had noheadaches there, and I could eat almost anything, and if you never hearddoves cooing, why, you never heard what's really pretty. But never mind:your time will come--not yet awhile, but some day. " On this particular July afternoon the sun was so hot and the air soclose that even Netty could not find it in her heart to be cheerful. "Oh, dear!" she said, with a deep sigh, "I do wish it were my turn forthe country this year. I would take you with me--yes, I would, baby. Iwouldn't mind a bit lugging you about, though you are getting heavy. Iwish it were my luck to be going this year, but there isn't a chance. " She had scarcely uttered the last words before Ben's face was seenpeeping at her from behind a corner. Ben was a year older than his sister; he had long trousers very muchpatched about the knees, and a shock head of rough red hair. Next tobaby, Netty loved him best in the world. He beckoned to her now, lookingvery knowing. "I say, come here--here's a lark, " he said; "come round the corner andI'll show you something. " Netty jumped up and, staggering under the weight of the heavy baby, approached the spot where Ben was waiting for her. "Such a lark!" he continued; "you never heard tell anything like it. Isay, Netty, what do you say to the seaside for a whole day, you and metogether? We can go, yes, we can. To-morrow's the day; I have thetickets. What do you say?" "Say?" cried Netty; "why, of course I say go; but it isn't true--itcan't be true. " [Illustration] "Yes, it is, " answered Ben. "I was standing by the scholars at theschool-house as they was coming out, and they were all getting theirtickets for the seaside treat, and I dashed in behind another boy, and ateacher came round giving out the tickets and I grabbed two. He said tome: 'Are you a Sunday scholar?' and I said: 'Yes, I am, ' and there was abig crowd and no one listened. I got two tickets, one for you and onefor me, and we'll go to-morrow. It's to a place called Southend. There'sa special train for us, and we'll take our chance. Oh, isn't it fun?We'll see the waves and we'll feel the breezes and we'll bathe. My word!I don't know whether I'm standing on my head or my heels. " "Do show me the tickets, Ben, " said Netty. Ben thrust his hand into his trousers pocket and presently brought outtwo little pieces of cardboard on which the magical words were writtenwhich would take him and his sister to the school feast. "There, " he said; "it's all right--as right as can be. " "But that isn't your name, Ben; it's Tom Minchin, Tom Minchin and anumber. " "Well, and I'll be Tom Minchin for to-morrow, " said Ben; "and you'll behis sister Susy Minchin. We'll drop our own names for the day. " "But what about the real Tom and Susy Minchin? Won't they come and findout everything, and won't they be disappointed?" said Netty, who had astrong sense of justice in her little nature. "Let them be: it's our turn for a bit of fun. Perhaps they won't come, as they weren't there to-day. Anyhow, we'll risk it. I'm going, but youneedn't be Susy Minchin unless you like. " "Oh, I'll be Susy, " answered Netty, after a moment's anxious reflection;"but we must take baby. What's to be done with baby? Mother said I wasto take charge of him all to-morrow, as she's going out charing. I can'tleave baby--that I can't, Ben. " "If you take the baby we'll be found out, " said Ben. "Well, I must risk it, " said Netty; "I can't help it. You can go as TomMinchin, Ben, and if they turn me back on account of the baby--why, theymust, that's all. " "They won't let baby come, so you had best leave him at home. There'sold Mrs. Court can look after him, " said Ben, indicating an old womanwho sometimes took care of babies for twopence a day. "I never thought of Mrs. Court, " said Netty, in a reflective voice; "butwhere's the use? I haven't the twopence. " "I believe I could manage that, " said Ben; "it's worth a good try, isn'tit?" [Illustration] "Well, let us run and ask her, " said Netty; "it would be a great pity ifI didn't get off with the rest of you. Do let me look at the ticketsonce more, Ben. " Ben condescended to give Netty one more peep. "Don't you forget when they're calling out our names that you are SusyMinchin, " he said; "and now if I can get twopence Mrs. Court will lookafter baby. " Netty kissed the baby on its little mouth. "I'd take you if I could, baby, " she said; "but oh, the sea! the sea! Ijust do pine for it. I'll bring you back lots of shells, baby, that Iwill, and you won't mind old Mrs. Court for once, and I'll have suchtales to tell you when I come back. " So Netty went to find old Mrs. Court, and between them they arranged forthe baby's comfort on the following day and Mrs. Court was to have hertwopence in the evening. But the best-made plans do not always come to pass, for Netty thatevening received a lecture from her Mother on the subject of Mrs. Court. "What is this I hear?" cried the good woman; "that you mean to give babyto the care of that old woman! Not a bit of it! I wouldn't allow thebaby to be seen in her rooms for all you could give me. What do you wantto get rid of the baby for? And what are you trying to hide from me, Netty?" "It's nothing really, Mother; it's just that Ben and I are going to walkto Battersea Park, and we've a penny apiece to buy buns. You won't stopus going, Mother?" "Now aren't you an unnatural girl!" cried Mrs. Floss. "Why shouldn't youtake the poor baby with you? Wouldn't he like a sight of the park andthe green trees as well as you? If you take the baby with you, I'll giveyou each another penny, and an extra one for the baby, and you can allhave a good time; now what do you say?" "I suppose I must do it, Mother, " answered Netty; "and you're verykind, " she hastened to add. Mrs. Floss was far too busy to spend any more time talking to Netty. Sheregarded the affair as absolutely settled, and went downstairs to tellMrs. Court that she was not to have the pleasure of looking after thebaby the following day. The next morning broke gloriously fine. Even as early as six o'clock itwas intensely hot in the attic where Netty slept. She had laid out allher best things the night before--her blue cotton frock, carefullywashed and mangled, her cape to match, her sailor hat, somewhat raggedround the brim, but not very dirty; even her cotton gloves. These lastshe regarded as great treasures, and imagined that they would give adistinctly genteel air to her appearance. As there was no possible way out of it, she must take the baby, too, andshe must just trust to luck to pulling the thing through. She knewenough about tramways and omnibuses and railway carriages to be awarethat a baby in arms costs nothing, and she did not mind little Dan'sweight--she was accustomed to it; and she would like very much, as faras she herself was concerned, to take him to the seaside. Accordingly, the baby was also got early out of his wooden cot, anddressed in his very best clothes. The baby's best frock was made ofTurkey-red cotton, very faded, and he had a small worn-out fifth-handsun-bonnet tied under his chin, and his little legs were bare, but thatdid not matter--it was, indeed, rather an advantage this hot weather. Ben frowned very much when he saw the baby. "Now, what do you mean by this?" he cried; "how can you be Susy Minchindragging that big baby about with you? You give it to Mrs. Court. " "No, no, " pleaded poor Netty; "Mother said I wasn't to leave baby withMrs. Court; we must bring Dan with us. There, Ben, you won't say no. " Ben looked decidedly cross, but Netty had a very coaxing way with her. "Come along then, " he said roughly; but there was a tenderness in thatrough tone, and Netty knew that her cause was won. It never occurred toBen to offer to carry the baby for Netty, but he made up his mind thathe must smuggle it through somehow. The pair reached the great station in good time, and were joined by alot of other children, and several teachers and Sunday-schoolsuperintendents of all sorts, and also several clergymen. Ben and Netty soon mingled with the crowd and were marched in orderlyarray past a gentleman who looked at each ticket and took down each nameas they went by. When it came to Ben's turn he called out manfully: "TomMinchin, " nudging Netty at the same time. "Susy Minchin, " she said. But here the little party were called to halt. "Susy Minchin, what are you doing with that baby?" said Mr. Stokes, thecurate. Poor little Netty, _alias_ Susy, found herself turning red and thenpale. "Please, sir, " she said, dropping a curtsey that she was accustomed tomake to her Board-school teacher, "please, I couldn't come without Dan. " "But I didn't know that Mrs. Minchin had a young baby, " said the curate, who was very young and fair-haired himself, and looked much puzzled whatto do. "It would kill me to go back now, sir, " said Netty, and there was such apassion of entreaty in her soft eyes and such a tremble round her palelips that the young curate looked at a pretty girl who was standingnear, and the pretty girl said: "Oh! poor little dear, she shan't be disappointed. I would rather takethe baby myself. " "But it's against the rules, " said the curate, "and others may takeadvantage of it. " "You shan't be prevented from going, little Susy Minchin, " said thegirl, now coming forward. "Give me the baby until you are all wellstarted; then you shall have it back again. " No sooner said than done--little Daniel was quickly transferred to thearms of the fair-haired and very beautiful young lady, and Netty, _alias_ Susy, marched on in triumph. "That was well done; I call that young lady a brick, " whispered Netty toBen, but Ben replied: "Be quiet, and come along. " They reached the great train and were huddled into their compartments, and then slowly but surely it got up steam and moved out of the station, and then, gathering speed, flew past the ugly houses, past the rows ofhot and dingy streets, into the pure, fresh lovely country. Netty caught her breath in her rapture, her eyes shone with purehappiness, but in the midst of all her rejoicings a sudden memory oflittle Dan came to distress her. "I have brought his bottle with me, " she said, tapping her pocket, "andhe'll be hungry by now. I wish the lady would give him back. " "You stay quiet, " said Ben, nudging her; "where's the use of bothering?" The train flew through the country faster and faster, the air blew moreand more fresh against Netty's cheeks. She began to sniff. Could thatdelicious smell be the smell of the sea, the great, rolling blue seawhich she had never seen, but which she had so often dreamed about? [Illustration] There was another little white-faced girl who sat near Netty, and Nettyasked her if she thought they were getting near the sea. She had a sharpface and had been to the sea before, and she rather despised Netty forher ignorance. Poor Netty was about to sink back into her seat with afeeling of disappointment when a grave-looking lady who had the chargeof the compartment said, in a quiet voice: "We cannot reach the sea for a long time yet, little girl, but I see youare much pleased and very much interested in everything; would you liketo come and sit near me?" All too willingly Netty changed her seat, and presently she and the kindlady entered into a vigorous conversation. Netty confessed how anxiousshe was about the baby. She tapped the bottle in her pocket anddescribed how she had made the necessary food with milk and water and apinch of sugar. "Dan will be fretting for his lunch by now, " she said; "I do wish Icould get hold of him. " "We shall be stopping at a big station in two or three minutes now, "said the lady, whose name was Mrs. Holmes, "and I will get out and findMiss Pryce, who, I think from your description, must be the lady who hascharge of the little one. I will bring him back to you then. But what avery audacious little girl you are to think that a baby would be allowedto come to the Sunday treat. " "I could not have come without him, " replied Netty. "What is your name?" asked Mrs. Holmes. Poor Netty was on the point of saying Netty Floss, but at that momentshe caught Ben's eye and his warning glance saved her from making astartling revelation. "Susy Minchin, " she answered. "Minchin! I know the Minchins well. How is your Mother? I have not seenher for some time. " "Very well, indeed, " answered Netty, flushing brightly. Her heart beatwith a sudden feeling of alarm. This was quite terrible news. The kindlady knew her supposed Mother, Mrs. Minchin. Netty had not the faintestidea what Mrs. Minchin was like; she did not know how many there were infamily, but a dreadful memory now darted through her brain--the curatehad said that he did not believe that the Minchins had a young baby. Suppose this lady who knew Mrs. Minchin so well should remember thatfact, then what should she do? The train stopped, Mrs. Holmes got out, and presently returned with thebaby. "By the way, " she said, as she placed the child in Netty's arms, "isthis your little brother?" "No, ma'am, my little cousin, " answered Netty, whose distress hadrendered her wonderfully sharp and indifferent to the many lies she wastelling. "He's my little cousin, ma'am, but I love him as if he were myown brother. " "So I can see, and he seems a dear little fellow, but what pale cheeks!Do you give the poor baby enough to eat?" The baby was smiling in that inconsequent and yet fascinating way whichbabies of a certain age adopt. His lips were forming into pretty three-corners, and his eyes wereblinking, and when he saw the bottle which Netty drew out of her pockethe stretched out his little arms with delight and cooed withsatisfaction. Soon several of the other children clustered round little Dan and beganto fuss about him, and when they thrust sweets into his mouth he thoughtthe fun excellent and crowed and laughed and flung his arms in the air. "The sea will do him a sight of good, the darling, " said Netty, kissinghim with rapture. Soon afterwards they reached Southend, and then the real pleasure of theday began. Never as long as she lived could Netty forget that excitingand wonderful day--the happiness of running along those sands, ofpicking up those shells for herself, of sitting with Dan in her arms andletting the soft sea breezes blow over her face; then, as the waves camenearer and nearer, the darting away with little screams of frightenedrapture. Oh! there never in all the world could be a second day likethis! Then, too, the baby himself entered into the fun, and the best ofthe whole thing was that before the day was over the baby, the only babyin the whole party, began to assume the airs of a master, for all thechildren noticed him, and the ladies noticed him, and even the curatesand the rector noticed him, and they all said: "What a pale-faced andyet what a sweet baby he is!" And several offered to carry him, until Netty felt that he was quite adiadem in her crown, and a most honourable and distinguished appendage. "See, " she whispered to Ben, in the height of her joy, "did you ever seeanything like the fuss they're making over our Dan? Wasn't I right tobring him?" "Oh! don't bother, " cried Ben; "I'm going to play with some boys at theother side of the beach, and won't be back for a couple of hours. " Plenty of food was given to the happy children, and they returned homedead-tired, some of them half-asleep, but all with dreams of bliss whichwould remain in their hearts for many a long day. Perhaps of all the children who went to that school feast there was nohappier than Netty. She forgot her own wrong-doing in thinking of thedelightful scenes she had so lately witnessed, and fell asleep thatnight holding the baby in her arms in a state of absolute bliss; butalas! clouds were already coming over her sky. Early in the morning she awoke to find that Dan was hot and restless. Dan, although he had enjoyed himself vastly the day before, had not beentreated judiciously. The many sweet-meats that the children had insistedon giving him had upset his baby digestion. He awoke peevish, heavy-eyed, and highly feverish. Netty, who idolised him, went straightto her Mother to ask her opinion with regard to him. "He's not well, " said Netty; "he's not well a bit. I had best go at onceand see the doctor, or take him round to the sixpenny dispensary. " Mrs. Floss turned towards the bed where the baby lay, pulled down theclothes, and looked at him. [Illustration: _There never in all the world could be a second day likethis!_] "There's nothing the matter with the child, " she said. "Don't you getfussing with your silly ways; the child's all right. " "He's not, Mother. I am sure he ought to have medicine of some sort. " "There, there, don't be silly, " said the woman. "I am going out for aday's charing, and have no time to be bothered. Look after Dan and doyour duty. I expect he took a chill yesterday when you took him toBattersea Park; so now you must stay at home and nurse him back tohealth. " Poor little Netty smiled rather faintly. "You're looking dead-beat yourself, " said the woman. "I can't make outwhat's come to all of you. There's Ben hadn't any appetite for his goodplain breakfast. Now, you go and look after baby; I'm glad it'sSaturday: you needn't be at school. " The day was hot, even hotter than the previous one. Mrs. Floss startedoff on her charing expedition, and Netty sat on the doorstep with thesick baby. Dan grew worse each moment. He could scarcely open hislanguid eyes, his little face was deadly pale, and at times a shudderran through his frame. Mrs. Court came and looked at him ominously. "You'd better have left himwith me, " she said. "He's eaten something that has disagreed with him, and now he'll have convulsions and die. " "Oh! don't say such cruel things, " cried poor Netty. Mrs. Court hobbled back to her room, and Netty sat on with an awestrucklook on her face. Presently she stooped down and kissed the baby on hisbrow. He was stirring restlessly. Netty felt that she loved him bettereven than Ben, better than anything else in the world. "Don't you go, and die, baby, " she said, in a low whisper. And now thebaby, just as if he heard the words and understood them, opened hissweet blue eyes, and looked her full in the face, and then he gave afaint smile and shut his eyes again, and she heard him breathingquickly, and the next moment a spasm crossed his little face. Netty could stand it no longer. "I must take him to someone; but I haven't a penny in the world. Oh!what shall I do? I know: I'll go to Mrs. Holmes, that kind lady; she'lltell me what to do for Dan. She may punish me, she may do what shelikes, for I'll tell her the whole gospel truth, if only she'll saveDan. " Netty staggered to her feet; there was resolution on her little face. Mrs. Holmes had taken a fancy to the child who loved the baby so well, and on parting the night before she had said to her: "I have just moved into a new house, Susy Minchin, and as perhaps you donot know of the change, will you tell your Mother this is my newaddress, " and then she repeated it slowly twice to the child: "5, George-street, Bloomsbury. Now, you will remember that, little girl, won't you? and when I want your Mother to come to do a day's charing Iwill let her know. " [Illustration] Netty had scarcely listened at the time. What did it matter to her? forshe was not Susy Minchin: she was Netty Floss. But now like a ray of sunshine the memory of this address crossed hermind. George-street, Bloomsbury, was a long way off, but Netty was a bravewalker. It took two hours, carrying that heavy baby, to get there, andas she walked the baby's face frightened her more and more, but with theaid of several friendly policemen she did get at last to George-street. She walked up the steps of the tall house and sounded the knocker, andwaited with great anxiety until the door was opened. It was opened, notby a servant, who in all probability would have sent Netty away, but byno less a person than Mrs. Holmes herself. "Why, Susy!" cried the lady, starting back; "who would suppose that Ishould see you here, and the dear baby too? What is the matter?" "Oh! let me in, " panted poor Netty; "do, please, and I ain't Susy--I'mNetty, and this ain't my little cousin--he's my own brother, and he'sbad, very bad. Oh, ma'am, I'm such a miserable girl!" In great astonishment Mrs. Holmes did allow the little girl to come intothe house. She took her into a small room and looked at once at thebaby. One glance showed her that he was very ill indeed. "My dear child, " she said, "what a good thing you came when you did. Inan hour's time the poor baby might have died. " Mrs. Holmes rang the bell briskly. "Bring a hot bath here and some mustard immediately, " she said to theservant; "and be quick, please, and then go round to Dr. Ross at thecorner and say that Mrs. Holmes wants to see him at once. " [Illustration: _"Why, Susy! what is the matter?"_] All these things were done. The baby was taken out of Netty's arms, undressed, and put into the bath. The doctor called, felt his littleswollen gums, and said they were really at the root of the mischief. Helanced them and the baby got immediate relief. In less than an hour hewas lying in a soft sleep in Netty's arms. "He will do now, " said Dr. Ross; "but if matters had been postponed Iwould not have given much chance of his life. " "And now, Susy, what is it?" said Mrs. Holmes, looking for the firsttime attentively at the child. "Don't cry, my dear, the little fellowwill live; but what was that you said to me about _not_ being Susy?" "Oh! I must tell you, " cried Netty; "I know you'll turn me out, but itdoesn't matter now, for you have saved baby's life. " And then she did tell her story; with sobs, bitter sobs, she told it, and somehow Mrs. Holmes had never felt nearer crying in her life than asshe listened. At last the poor little accusing voice was silent, and Netty looked upwith swollen eyes of misery to receive her sentence. "You did very wrong, of course, Netty, " said Mrs. Holmes; "and I shallbe obliged to tell my Vicar, for we must enquire immediately where Tomand Susy Minchin really were. But, my dear child, I am not going to bevery angry with you. I think when Daniel suffered so much this morningyou received your punishment, and I am not going to give you another. Imean to forgive you, and to try to give you a chance in life. " "Oh, you're an angel, " said poor Netty; "will you be my friend eventhough I have done this?" "You must promise never to do anything of the kind again. " "Do you think I would want to?" said Netty; "and will you please forgiveBen too, ma'am; he isn't bad really, but we did so _pine_ to look atthe sea. We had never seen it, and it was _such a big temptation_. " [Illustration] "I quite understand, " said Mrs. Holmes, and she stooped and kissedNetty. "I will come round this evening to your house in order to seeyour Mother, " she said. "I am going to be your friend in the future. " Mrs. Holmes was as good as her word. The baby quickly got well again, Netty and Ben were forgiven, and were made _bonā-fide_ scholars at theSunday-school. When the school feast came round the following year theywere able to go to the feast, and as a matter of course had tickets; buta greater treat was in store, for there was a special ticket sent by theLadies' Committee to no less a person than Dan himself. He was the onlybaby allowed to come, and he had his own ticket. The Other Carews. By M. B. Manwell. "Don't you _wish_ that the other Carews could come to our birthdayparty?" wistfully said Clary, the only girl among Doctor John Carew's"seven little pickles, " as he called them. "They would come like a shot if Uncle George would allow them, I know, "observed Mark, the second Carew boy, with the red hair that was alwaysso handy to fire off a joke about. "Hum! perhaps so. The weather's getting coldish, and they'd be glad tocome, if it was only to warm themselves a bit!" Oliver's eyes rolledsignificantly at Mark's head, the owner of which, with an angry whoop, made a dive at the speaker. There was an uproar in the play-room on thespot. Five Carew boys, pursued by the furious Mark, leaped, laughing andshouting, over chairs and stools, and even across the table. "Wait till I catch one of you, that's all!" panted Mark, stumbling overa stool which Chris mischievously pushed in his way. "Wait, sir! Oh, certainly, sir!" teasingly said Chris, bowing almost intwo while Mark ruefully rubbed his shins. "Oh, boys, don't quarrel! Let us sit quiet and talk about the otherCarews!" Clary plaintively pleaded. "Don't you think we could somehowget them to my birthday party?" The little sister was tucked away in the old rocking-chair in a corner, safely out of the way of the line of march of her wild brothers. She wasa frail, small mortal, with long, smooth, yellow hair and anxious blueeyes, just the apple of everybody's eye in the Tile House. "Father and Uncle George have never spoken to one another for threewhole years. Everybody in Allonby Edge knows that, and so do you, Clary!Is it likely that the other Carews would be allowed to come to yourbirthday party--is it now, I ask?" Oliver, the eldest, put his hands inhis pockets, and stood with his back to the empty fireplace, secretlyflattering himself that even Father could not strike a more manlyattitude. It was Saturday--a pouring wet Saturday--and the boys werehouse-prisoners. They had struggled through every indoor game they knew, starting with a pillow-fight before the beds were made, to the tearfulwrath of old Euphemia, who kept Dr. John Carew's house because thesweet-faced Mother, whom the children adored so, was ill and frail mostof her days. When in the pillow-fray a bolster burst and the feathers thickly snowedthe staircase and hall, Euphemia's wrath boiled over, and the boys, withClary also, were sternly hustled upstairs to the play-room, there to belocked in until the dinner-bell should release them. Peace at any priceEuphemia was determined to have. "You don't think they can get into mischief locked in--there's thewindow, you know, Euphemia, " nervously said Mother. It was one of thepoor lady's particularly bad days, and she was shut up in her own room. "No, mem, there's no fear. Not even such wild little reskels as ourswould climb out o' that high window, an' there ain't no other outletsave it be the chimney. Not that I'd be surprised to see 'em one afteranother creep out o' the chimney-pot black as black!" Euphemia, withher head in the air, walked off muttering. [Illustration] However, as the morning wore on and a wondrous quiet reigned at the topof the house, where the boys were engaged in painting fearsome animalsand golliwogs on the jambs of the mantelpiece, Euphemia relented. "Mary Jane, " said she to the good-tempered, red-elbowed help in thekitchen, "you take up this plate o' gingerbread to the children. Prettydears, they must be nigh starving!" And a goodly heap of gingerbreadchunks travelled upstairs to the play-room, the door of which wasunlocked. It was over this welcome interruption that a wonderful new game washatched. "Clary, tell us about the mountain railway, " said Oliver, seatinghimself on the edge of the table to munch contentedly. His little sister had spent the previous winter with her ailing Motherin the Alps, at an hotel built on purpose for sick folk as high up inthe air as was possible. And the boys were never tired of listening toher descriptions of the life so far up in the clouds and snows that thesun was nearly always shining hotly. "I shouldn't mind being sick myself if it was only just to wear thosefunny snow-boots and walk over the hard snow up and down themountain-sides, " said Mark, reaching out for another piece ofgingerbread. "Oh, I'd like the tobogganing--the 'luging, ' Clary calls it. Fancyspinning down in the moonlight!" cried one of the smaller boys, Johnny. "No! Give me the riskiest of all--that queer railway up and down thegreat mountain. Tell us about it again, Clary, " urged Oliver. "That's called the funicular!" Very proud of being able to say the longword, Clary propped up her every-day doll beside her in therocking-chair and, folding her mites of hands, proceeded to explain. "It's quite a little young railway, y' know. It's only to take people upto the hotel on top of the Mont, where Mother and I lived last winter. "Then she told the boys how the little train toiled up the sheer face ofa great mountain to the clouds. And it had to descend, also, which wasworse far. Clary shuddered and hid her blue eyes as she described thatcoming down, while the eyes of the boys fairly bolted over the merethought of a journey so full of risks and perils. "It must have been prime!" calmly observed Chris, always to the front ifdanger were in the air. "What did you think about, Clary, when thefunicular came jolting down the steps hewn out for it in the steepmountain? What did it feel like? Come now, tell us, " persisted Chriscuriously. "I fink it was like stepping out of a high window into the dark night, "explained the little maid. "I didn't like it, an' I pulled the wire toshut my dolly's eyes, case she saw and it f'itened her, y' know!" Thefirst thought of mother Clary had been for her waxen baby. "Well, let's play at the funicular, " suggested Oliver, when thegingerbread plate was cleared. "Hooray! Down the banisters?" Mark was on fire in a moment. So were theother boys, and there was a stampede for the staircase. "You can come, too, Clary!" shouted her brothers, and, bustling out ofthe rocking-chair, the little mother carefully carried her babytreasure, wrapped in a tiny shawl, for the perilous journey down themountain-side. The Tile House was of considerable size: it and the White House whereDoctor George Carew lived were the only two large dwellings in thevillage of Allonby Edge. But of the two the Tile House was the higher, having an extra storey. The staircase was, consequently, a pretty longone, with only one landing at the upper floor, which led up to the playattic and servants' rooms. "Couldn't have a better railway than this!" said Oliver, his head on oneside as he regarded the length of banister. Presently, the boys were tasting the fearful joy of precipitatingthemselves down the slippery route, which they grandly called thefunicular. The journeys were accompanied by a good deal of uproar, but the greenbaize swing-door shut off the sound from the ears of Euphemia and MaryJane in the kitchen. So the noisy crew had it all their own way. Oliver was the driver of the train, and Mark the guard, the rest beingpassengers, and the traffic up and down to the hotel on the high Alpswas something extraordinary. "It's the going up that's the horrid difficulty!" panted Johnny, whoselegs were rather short to interlace in the banister rails and thus heavehimself upwards as the other boys did. "Difficulties were made on purpose to be overcome, " loftily said Mark, "and mountain railways are full of them. Now then, Clary, " he shoutedupstairs, "why don't you be a passenger? Aren't you getting tired ofliving up in the mountain hotel? Don't you want to come home and seeyour family?" "Yeth, I do want to come home, " piped a small voice from far away upunder the roof. "So does my Hilda Rose, " and Clary's little fair headpeered over the top banister. "Come along then!" recklessly shouted the boys. "Can't you get aboardthe funicular yourself and start your journey?" "What sillies girls are; just like women, always expecting somebody tohand them in and hand them out!" grumbled Mark, who, being the guard, felt bound to go up and start the lady passenger. "Now then, ma'am, " he said briskly, "you and your little girl had betterget in. Train's going to start when I wave this green flag!" "Oh, please hold my Hilda Rose until I get my seat, " nervously said thepassenger. "Oh! Mark--I mean Mr. Guard, do you think that Hilda Rose andme can go down wifout falling?" "Why, of course!" scornfully answered the guard. "Haven't you been on afunicular before--the real thing? What's the use of bragging about thedangers you've been through if you can't face them a second time? Now, then, are you ready, ma'am?" [Illustration: _Oliver was stooping over the senseless little figure. _] "Oh, no; not yet! Oh, but we sitted the other way in the real railway!"tearfully remonstrated the passenger, who had been settled by the guardon the banister face downwards. "Can't help that, ma'am. It's the way we run trains. We gen'lly dothings different from the foreigners. Now then, I'll tie your littlegirl on your back with her sash-ends, and, if you hold on tight, youwill both get to the bottom all right!" And she might have got to her destination in safety had the passengerbeen a boy accustomed to banister sliding instead of a weak, fragilelittle girl. "Ready below there?" shouted down the guard. "There, ma'am, I'vetelegraphed down that you're coming!" Mark's hand let go the wildly clinging passenger. A green flag waswaved. A shrill whistling rang through the house. The funicular was off! Then came faint, muffled cries of terror: a swish through the air as thetwo passengers came sliding down: a louder shriek: and, lastly, a thudon the hall floor that made the hearts of the waiting group of boysstand quite still for a second or two. At their feet was a huddled heap of blue frock and white pinafore, overwhich trailed a wisp of long fair hair. The heap was perfectly still, perfectly silent. "Is she--is she----?" Mark's tongue clove to the roof of his mouth andrefused to finish the question when, tearing down the staircase, hereached the hall, his face livid under the red hair. Oliver was stoopingover the senseless little figure, touching with frightened fingers nowthe little face, then the still small hands. "Fetch Euphemia, quick!" the boy said hoarsely. Like an arrow Johnny fled through the green baize door, and then, withan alarmed cry, old Euphemia ran into the hall. "Oh, my pretty, my pretty!" Trembling like a leaf and ghastly white, theold woman crouched down to gently feel each little limb. And as she didso the boys covered their eyes to hide the sight. "Did anyone of ye push her down? How was it, tell me true?" "No, no; oh! nobody pushed her! She fell all the way down thebanisters!" several of the boys spoke together. "We were playing at the funicular, and she lost her balance!" The lastwords were sobbed out by Mark. "Playing at the--what?" gasped Euphemia, in horror. "Boy!"--she clutchedOliver's shoulder--"flee to the White House and fetch Doctor George. Sayit's life or death. The master's away for a long round on the hills atthe farms. Tell them that. Go!" "But, Euphemia--Uncle George would refuse to come inside our door!"stammered Oliver. "Do as I bid ye, boy, and quick! Say to Dr. George these words from oldEuphemia: 'The Lord do unto you and yours as ye do unto us in this soreneed!' He will heed that message, if he's got a heart, not a stone, inhim!" With a shuddering groan, Oliver ran out into the pelting rain, bare-headed, on to the other end of Allonby Edge, where stood the WhiteHouse with the red lamp, the home of the other Doctor Carew, the brotherwho had not spoken to Oliver's Father for three years. As he raced along, with a heart beating in terror at what he had leftbehind on the hall-floor, there flitted through the boy's brain the oldwondering curiosity as to what made the doctor-brothers such bitterenemies. * * * * * In the dining-room of the White House a group of children were staringidly out of the window, watching the village ducks, the only creaturesreally enjoying the deluge of rain on that wet Saturday. The table was spread for early dinner, and the appetising sniffsstealing up from the kitchen reminded the other Carews that they werehungry. "Oh, do look!" Gwen nudged Tony excitedly. "There's a boy with nothingon his head tearing along in the rain! He will fall over those wobblingducks if he doesn't look out!" "I do believe he is making for our house!" slowly said Tony, as hestared out eagerly. "There's somebody taken suddenly ill, that's it! He's coming for Pater!"observed Traffy, a bright little urchin who had just stepped out ofpetticoats into a sailor suit and Latin. "Oh, oh! it's one of the Carew boys from Tile House, and he is coming inhere!" Trissy, the youngest, whispered, in an awestruck voice, and sheshrank back from the window. The four Carews of the White House hadbrooded to the full as much as the young folk of the Tile House over theestrangement between their Fathers, though they had never dared to asktheir parents any questions about the matter. All the children knew this much, that old Grandpapa had been Doctor MarkCarew of Allonby Edge, and when he died his two sons succeeded to hispractice as partners. In time the young doctors married, and the elderchildren remembered dimly that the Tile House and the White House hadbeen like one home with two roofs. Then came the mysterious quarrel that froze up that "good and joyfulthing, dwelling together in unity. " It was all so sad and heart-breakingthat nobody ever ventured to question the two brothers thus living apartin enmity. The more you love anyone, the more terrible a thing it is toquarrel with that person. So the breach had gone on widening with the years, and the littleCarews had grown out of all knowledge of each other, especially as theybicycled every day to different schools in the county town. It was onlyin church indeed that they kept up any sort of acquaintance with eachother's looks. [Illustration] "Yes, it's one of the other Carews, " Tony said gravely. "And Father's inthe surgery: he drove up five minutes ago. What can be the matter? Thatboy is tearing at the surgery bell. Listen!" With their hearts in their mouths the Carews tip-toed along the passageleading to the surgery-door, which was shut fast. There seemed to be adreadful silence in the house. Mother was upstairs with the fretfulbaby of the family, and there was nobody to run to. Behind the close-shut surgery-door a strange scene was going on. Sittingwell back in his consulting-chair, his hands spread out, finger tofinger, thumb to thumb, Doctor George was gazing sternly in silence atan eager little speaker. "Oh, do come; do, Uncle George! Our Clary is killed, and Father's awayon his rounds among the hill-farms!" Oliver's teeth chattered in his head, and his little knees knockedtogether as he stood with the rain-drops falling from his bare head onto his little shoulders. "Did your Mother send you here for me?" Doctor George asked harshly. "No; oh, no! We dared not tell Mother! Clary fell from the top of theTile House to the hall floor, and she's all white and still. AndEuphemia lifted her arm, and it fell double!" Dr. George suddenly sat up straight. "Is it broken or is it a sprain?" he asked peremptorily. "I--I don't know. I think she's killed!" answered the boy brokenly. Oliver was nearly fainting from sheer fright, as Dr. George could seefor himself. "Come along, boy, " he said sharply, and he gathered together two orthree necessaries from the surgery-table while he spoke. Presently two figures plunged out into the pouring rain. "Father's gone with the other Carew! What can be the matter? PerhapsUncle John's killed, and they're going to make it up!" whispered thegirls. "You are sillies!" scornfully said Tony. "How can people make it up ifthey're dead?" Ah, how, Tony? The time for that has gone by, indeed, boy! Of the two figures that fled through the rain, the doctor reached theTile House first. In a trice he pushed aside Euphemia and he waskneeling beside the motionless little figure; and, presently, when hehad gently probed the little form and lifted one limb after another, hegroaned under his breath. This little, tender, fair-headed thing, withthe face that reminded him so startlingly of his dead Mother, was sorelyinjured; perhaps fatally so. As yet, he knew not. Without a word, he cautiously lifted the unconscious Clary in his strongarms, and signed to Euphemia to lead the way. Then the door of the room he entered with his burden was shut, and theCarew boys huddled close together, a miserable group. What if they hadkilled the little, tender sisterling who was their queen and idol? And Mother upstairs in her sick-room knew nothing as yet, while Father, away on his long hill-round, was equally ignorant. It seemed to makethings so much more terrible to the little boys that they alone shouldknow. "Come away, beside the fire, dearies. " Mary Jane beckoned them into thekitchen, and the wretched boys crept round the ruddy blaze, whichseemed, somehow, like a friend, and they stretched out their cold handsto its warmth as they waited, too frightened to wonder aloud what wasbeing done in that room where Euphemia and Uncle George were shut upwith Clary. When Mother's bell rang their hearts jumped into their mouths. "No! none of you boys are going up!" said Mary Jane firmly. "Euphemia, she said as 'twas as much as my place was worth if I let the mistressknow o' this before the doctor comes home. So I'll carry up herdinner-tray and keep my tongue atween my teeth, and you boys must bidequiet as quiet till we see!" The boys shivered as Mary Jane, lifting up the tray, significantlynodded. * * * * * It was quite an hour after. Mary Jane, loyal to the core, had kept herailing mistress in perfect ignorance of the terrible calamity, and thelittle boys still crowded round the kitchen fire waiting. Suddenly every head was raised. "That's Peter's trot; don't you hear?Father's coming home!" Each of the boys stood up. Who was to go out to meet the gig and tellthe dreadful news to Doctor John? "Perhaps I ought to do it!" said Mark, in a strangled voice. "I startedthe train, y' know! So I'll take all the blame on myself!" Somehow the other boys thought poor Mark, for all his shock of red hair, looked exactly like one of the brave knights of old setting forth tobattle. Old Peter, the doctor's horse, eager for his stable comforts andshelter, brought the gig round in fine style, and Doctor John alightedquickly, with the upward glance at Mother's window which he neverforgot. "Why, sonny, " he began cheerily, then halted as, with a tweak at hisFather's sleeve, Mark beckoned him indoors. "Is there anything thematter with Mother? Quick; speak, boy!" The doctor's voice was sharpwith fear. But Mark could not speak, and Doctor John, with a heart oflead, followed the boy into the house. "In there, Father! It's Clary, and it's all my fault!" Mark's voice hadcome back, but it was a mere whisper, and he pointed to the close-shutdoor. [Illustration: _Doctor John was on his knees beside the bed_] Turning the door-handle quickly, Doctor John nearly fell backwards. Overthe bed, on which lay a little figure, bent the brother to whom he hadnot spoken for three years, with his ear laid close to the little heart, listening to its fluttering beats, and one hand raised warningly at thesound of the opening door. The next moment the wonder-shock had passed. Without a word Doctor John was on his knees beside the bed, and DoctorGeorge, glancing up, saw that it was Clary's Father who had entered. Then he stood up straight, and would have retreated hastily, but hisforefinger was tight in the clutch of a weak, small hand. Doctor Georgewas chained to the spot; he dared not move. "She opened her eyes once, and gripped my finger like that!" hewhispered awkwardly. The Father did not speak, nor even look away from the white, still face. But, stretching across the bed, he laid a detaining hand on hisbrother's coat-sleeve. It was quite late in the afternoon when the two doctors came out intothe hall. The boys crept to the half-open kitchen door to listeneagerly. "Thank God, and thank you, George, she will live!" It was a strained harsh voice, but it was Father's, and the boys allpressed forward. Then they hastily retreated, for, while the two doctors stood side byside, Father's head was bent on Uncle George's shoulder and their handswere clasped hard. "They must be making it up!" whispered Oliver to his awestruck brothers. And it was so. The breach of years was healed in a single afternoon. Thebrothers were once again friends. Whatever their quarrel had been--andneither the children of the Tile House nor the other Carews ever knewwhat it was about--it fled away like a morning mist in the face of agreat peril, for death had come very close to little Clary that rainySaturday. It was many weeks before she left her bed, but when her own birthdaycame round Father carried her, covered with shawls, in to tea, and Clarycould not believe her blue eyes. On the table was a huge frosted white cake, with flags flying and"CLARE" in great letters upon it, while Mother, who had grown poundsbetter lately, smiled behind the army of cups and saucers. But wonder of wonders, round and round the table, the guests were allCarews! "'A motley crew' we are!" cheerfully announced Doctor George, and allthe children radiantly clapped their hands at his joke. Even the WhiteHouse baby, which had been carried to the feast, gurgled and crowedloudly on its Mother's lap. And when they all pressed forward with their birthday gifts and to wishClary many happy returns of the day, Mark, his ears as red as his hair, whispered under his breath: "I was just awf'lly sorry, Clary! An' I'llnever, never forget that little girls and women are different from usrough boys!" And Mark never will; nor will any of the Carew boys. [Illustration] Kurus: The King of the Cannibal Islands. By Maggie Browne. It certainly was the very ugliest doll you ever saw. It hadn't a bit ofwax about it. It was a rag doll, a brown rag doll with black woollyhair, beads for eyes, and--horror of horrors--a ring through its nose!Then its clothes--no pretty pink frock and clean pinafore, no clothes totake off and on--it had only a black fur rug round its waist. Mollie was nearly in tears as she stared at it, and Geoffrey's cheekswere very red. It had come in a most promising cardboard box, wrapped up in thecleanest of tissue-paper; and when Mollie opened the parcel she had feltsure that the doll would have pink cheeks, blue eyes, and lovely goldenhair--and then to find such a thing! "It is too bad of Uncle Percy, " said Mollie; "it is almost unkind. " "I think it is more 'curous' than pretty, " said Geoffrey solemnly; "Ishould call it 'Kurus. '" He had been trying for several minutes to thinkof something to say to comfort Mollie. "But I wanted to call it Evelina, " said Molly; "I can't call that thingEvelina. Why, I can't even show it to Bessie. " [Illustration: _Geoffrey began to dig the hole. _] Now, Bessie was the little girl next door, Mollie's own well-belovedplaymate. "I don't think I should show it to anyone, " said Geoffrey, and then hebegan to think. Mollie was thinking too. "Mary Selina Trewin, " said Geoffrey solemnly. Mollie jumped. When her Mother called her Mary Selina she knew somethingserious was coming. "Mary Selina Trewin, " said Geoffrey, "who has seen that doll?--Nobody. Who saw the postman bring it?--Nobody. Who knows it is here?--Nobody. " "What are you talking about?" said Mollie, much puzzled. "Mary Selina Trewin, " said Geoffrey, "who shall see it? Who shall knowit is here?--Why, nobody. We will get rid of that doll; we will hideit. " And then he whispered mysteriously: "We will bury it this veryminute. Come along. " And Mollie went, just pushing the doll into the boxwith all the papers, and hiding it under her pinafore. They reached the garden without being seen, and Geoffrey began to digthe hole. "It must be deep as deep as deep, " said Mollie. "Deeper than that, " said Geoffrey. But it is not easy to dig with a stick, and the hole was anything butdeep when Nurse's voice was heard calling: "Miss Mollie! MasterGeoffrey!" "What shall we do?" said Geoffrey. "Put it in quickly, cover it up, and we'll make the hole deeper aftertea, " said Mollie. So the box and doll were popped in the hole and covered up, and Mollieand Geoffrey ran in to Nurse. Nurse wanted to make them tidy for tea. Never had the two children stood so quietly to have their faces washedand their hair brushed. At tea-time they talked so little that Mother began to suspect thatsomething was wrong. [Illustration] "I wonder the doll doesn't come from Uncle Percy, Mollie, " she said. "Iexpect he is searching for the very prettiest of all the dollies. " Molly nearly choked over her bread-and-butter; but Geoffrey said never aword. He was staring out of the window, staring at Snap, who was tearing upand down the lawn, carrying something brown in his mouth. "What has Snap found?" said Mother. "Is it a rabbit? Really I must askJane to----" "I'll go, Mother, " said Geoffrey, and he was down from his chair withoutwaiting for Mother to say "Yes" or "No. " "Oh, oh, oh!" cried Mollie. "Look at Snap!" "What can it be?" said Mother. "Ah! Geoffrey has caught him. Now weshall see what it was. " But Geoffrey came back into the room with the reddest of cheeks and theemptiest of hands. "What had the dog got, Geoffrey?" asked Mother. "Mollie, what is thematter?" Certainly Mollie's conduct was peculiar. She was making signs toGeoffrey, pointing out of the window, opening her mouth, and shaking herhead. "T-t-t--" stammered Mollie, and then there was a knock at the frontdoor. "Who can that be?" said Mother. A voice was heard in the hall, a voice they all knew. "Uncle Percy himself, " cried Mother; "then, Mollie, he must have broughtyour doll. " Uncle Percy came into the room and was welcomed warmly by Mother, butvery quietly by the children. As soon as they could they slipped out ofthe room and made their way into the garden. "We shall have to tellnow, " said Mollie. "Where did you put it?" "I threw it behind the laurel-bush, " said Geoffrey. "I suppose I hadbetter get it. " He ran to the laurel-bush and Mollie followed. "Mary Selina Trewin, " said Geoffrey, "it isn't there. " And though theysearched and hunted they couldn't find any trace of the ugly doll. "Oh, dear, " said Mollie, "what are we to do?" This time she began to cry really. "Well, you are a queer girl, " said Geoffrey; "you nearly cried when itcame, and now you really cry when it is gone. " "But what will Uncle Percy say?" said Mollie. "Well, the only thing to do, " said Geoffrey, "is to tell Mother allabout it. " "Oh, Geoffrey, " said Mollie, "we may find it. " But Geoffrey was quite decided. "Snap must have eaten the old thing up. Come along. " The children found their Mother and Uncle Percy sitting by the firetalking busily. What they were saying neither Mollie nor Geoffrey heard;they were too busy to listen, for on the table lay an open cardboardbox, and in the box lay a lovely doll--blue eyes, pink cheeks, goldenhair, dressed in the prettiest of dresses and cleanest of pinafores. "Oh!" said Mollie. "Oh!" said Geoffrey. "There you are, young people, " said Uncle Percy. "Yes, Mollie, that isthe doll I promised you. Do you think you will like it?" "But the other?" said Geoffrey. "Oh, you heard what we were saying, did you, young man?" said UnclePercy. "Well, I'm sorry I sent the wrong parcel, but Mother will send itback as soon as----" "But she can't send it back, " said Mollie. "Snap has eaten it, " said Geoffrey. [Illustration] "What?" cried Uncle Percy. And then, of course, out came the whole story. They were scolded, theywere punished, they were comforted and kissed, and Mollie went to bedthat night hugging Evelina, the rosy-cheeked beauty, very tightly. And the other! Uncle Percy said it didn't matter; he had only bought itto play a joke on someone. Mother and Mollie and Geoffrey and Jane andeverybody hunted everywhere for it, but they didn't find it. A few dayslater a letter came from Bessie asking "Geoffrey and Mollie to come totea with the King of the Cannibal Islands. " "The gardener found him in the garden, " said Bessie, as Geoffrey andMollie stared at Bessie's new doll. "Someone must have thrown him away, for he was ragged and torn; but Mother mended him, and, though he'squeer, I like him the best of all my dolls. " "He is curous, " said Geoffrey. "I think I will call him Kurus, the King of the Cannibal Islands, " saidBessie. Mollie and Geoffrey were not very cheerful that afternoon, but Bessiedid not notice it; she was so pleased with Kurus. As the two children went home they felt very solemn and sad. "It was it, " said Mollie. "Of course, " said Geoffrey. "Snap, you know. " "What shall we do?" said Mollie. "Tell Mother, " said Geoffrey; "she'll help. " And Mother did help. She talked to Uncle Percy and to the children; butnobody said a word to Bessie, and, though she still has Kurus and isvery fond of him, she does not know all the queer things that happenedto him.