'the sands of the sea stretch far and fine,

the rocks start out of them sharp and slim.'

a legend of the sea.

'oh dear,' exclaimed mrs. vane one morning at breakfast two or three days after the children's walk in to seacove. everybody looked up—the two girls and rough were at table with their father and mother. mrs. vane had just opened and begun to read a letter. what could be the matter?

'it is from miss millet,' she said; 'her sister's children have got scarlet fever, and she has got a bad sore throat herself from nursing them. they had no idea what it was at first,' she went on reading from the letter; 'but of course she cannot come back to us for ever so long on account of the infection.'

'poor miss millet,' said rosalys.

'i don't mind,' said biddy; 'i like having holidays.'[100]

alie, who was sitting next her, gave her a little touch.

'hush, biddy,' she said, 'that's just one of the things you say that sound so unkind.'

she spoke in a whisper, and fortunately for bridget her father and mother were too much taken up with the letter to notice what she had said.

'i didn't mean,' biddy was beginning as usual, but mrs. vane was speaking to alie by this time, and no one listened to biddy.

'i must write to miss millet at once,' their mother said, 'though i shall ask her not to write often till the infection is gone—she says this letter is disinfected. and, alie, you had better put in a little word, and biddy too, if she likes. it would be kind.'

'yes, mamma,' said alie at once, but bridget did not answer.

it was not usual for mrs. vane to discuss plans and arrangements for the children before them, but this morning her mind was so full of the unexpected turn of affairs that she could not help talking about them.

'it will be a question of several weeks—even months, i fear,' she said to mr. vane; 'there are such [101]a lot of those children, and miss millet is sure to wish to nurse them all. we must think over what to do.'

'perhaps you and i can manage the girls between us,' said mr. vane.

'alie perhaps,' began mrs. vane doubtfully.

'yes,' said bridget suddenly, to every one's astonishment, 'if it was only alie. but it would never do for me. i'd be too much for you and papa, mamma.'

she spoke quite gravely, but the others had hard work not to laugh.

'how do you mean, biddy?' asked her father.

'i'm very tiresome to teach; often i'm very cross indeed,' replied the child complacently.

'but you need not be; you can help being so if you try,' said mr. vane.

'well, i don't like trying, i suppose it's that,' she answered.

for the moment her father thought it wiser to say no more.

mr. redding happened to call that morning, and at luncheon mrs. vane told alie and bride that she was going to seacove, and they might go with her.

alie's eyes sparkled.

'are you going to——' she began, and her [102]mother seemed to understand her without any more words.

'yes,' she said, 'i have got all the measures.'

'and oh, mamma,' asked biddy, too full of her own ideas to notice these mysterious sayings, 'will you go to pier street and let us show you where celestina lives. and if you could think of something you wanted to buy, just any little thing, a pencil or some envelopes or anything—they've got everything—we might go into the shop, and i daresay if the nice mamma saw you, she'd ask you to step into the parlour too.'

'we shall see,' mamma replied.

but 'we shall see' was this time accompanied by a little smile, which made bridget think that the 'we shall see' was perhaps a way of saying 'yes.'

mamma had several messages to do at seacove, and though biddy was in a great hurry to get to pier street, she was rather interested in the other shops also. at the draper's, mrs. vane made some small purchases, as to which alie showed great concern. one was of pretty pink glazed calico and of some other shiny stuff called 'chintz'—white, with tiny lines of different colours; she also bought some red cotton velvet and neat-[103]looking white spotted muslin, and several yards of very narrow lace of a very small and dainty pattern, and other things, all of which interested alie very much indeed, though after a while biddy got tired of looking on, and went and stood at the doorway of the shop.

'i am sorry to give you the trouble of taking down so many things when i only want such a short length of each,' said mrs. vane civilly to the shopman—or shopwoman, i think it was. 'but the fact is i am buying all these odds and ends for my little girl's'—and here she glanced round to make sure that bridget was out of hearing—'for my little girl's doll-house, which needs doing up;' by which information mrs. cutter, the draper's wife, was much edified, repeating it to her special cronies at seacove, together with her opinion that the new rector's wife was a most pleasant-spoken lady.

one or two other shops mrs. vane and rosalys went into; a paper-hanger's for one, or rather a painter's, where wall-papers were sold; and an iron-monger's, where she bought two or three different kinds of small nails, tin tacks, and neat little brass-headed nails. bridget stayed at the door of both these shops: she thought them not at all interesting, [104]and mamma and alie did not press her to come in. the little girl was in a great fidget to get to pier street, and stood murmuring to herself that she didn't believe they'd ever come; alie might make mamma be quick, she knew how she, biddy, wanted to see celestina and her dolls' room.

'but nobody cares about what i want,' she added to herself, with the discontented look on her face which so spoilt its round rosy pleasantness.

just then out came mrs. vane and alie. they both looked pleased and bright, and this made biddy still crosser.

'well, now,' said her mother consideringly, 'is that all, alie? yes—i think it is. i must call at the grocer's on the way home, but i think we pass that way. no—i don't remember anything else.'

at this bridget could no longer keep silent.

'oh, mamma,' she exclaimed, 'and you said you'd come to celestina's house. it's too bad.'

mrs. vane looked at her in surprise.

'i did not say so, biddy; i said we should see. and we are going there now. you have no reason to be so impatient and to look so cross,' and she turned and walked on quickly.[105]

'biddy,' said alie, 'you're too bad really. you spoil everything.'

then she ran after her mother, and bridget followed them at some little distance.

they went directly down the street which a little farther on ran into pier street, biddy feeling more and more ashamed of herself. how she wished she had been less hasty, and not spoken so rudely and crossly to her mother. it did seem true, as alie said, that she spoilt everything. but she did not appear as sorry as she felt; indeed, her face had a rather sulky look when at last she came up to the others, who were waiting for her at the door of the shop.

'i am going in to see mrs. fairchild,' said her mother. 'i have something to ask her. you may come in too, biddy, and i will ask to see the little girl too.'

a naughty spirit came over biddy, even though in her heart she was sorry.

'no,' she said. 'i don't want to see the little girl, and i don't want to come in,' and her face grew still more sullen.

'very well,' said her mother, 'stay there then.'

but as she entered the shop with alie she whispered to her, 'i really don't know what to [106]do with biddy. she has such a very bad temper, alie. just when i am doing everything i can for her too.'

'only she doesn't know about it, you see, mamma,' alie replied. 'still she is very cross, i know.'

mrs. fairchild was herself in the shop as well as her husband. as soon as she caught sight of rosalys she seemed to know who mrs. vane was, and came forward with her gentle smile.

'i hope you will excuse my troubling you, mrs. fairchild,' said the rector's wife, 'but mr. redding, whom i saw this morning, thought you would be the best person to apply to about a little difficulty i am in.'

she half glanced round as if to see that no one was in the way, and with quick understanding celestina's mother turned towards the inner door.

'will you please step into the parlour a moment?' she said. 'we should be less interrupted.'

bridget, standing by the half-open shop door, heard the words. she felt almost inclined to run forward and beg leave to go in too. but she knew she must first ask pardon of her mother for her naughtiness, and the idea of doing so before mrs. fairchild was not pleasant.[107]

'if celestina would come out herself i could ask her to ask mamma to speak to me,' thought bridget. but no celestina appeared.

'they will be so comfortable in that nice warm parlour,' thought biddy; 'and i daresay celestina will be showing alie all her dolls and things,' for she had not noticed that just as mrs. vane went into the parlour she had said a word to rosalys, who had stayed behind.

so biddy stood outside, very much put out indeed. the ten minutes during which she had to wait seemed to her like an hour; and when celestina's mother came to the door to show her visitors out, it was not difficult for her to see that the little girl was not in at all a happy frame of mind.

'good-morning, miss bridget,' said mrs. fairchild.

'good-morning,' biddy could not but reply.

she did not even wonder how mrs. fairchild knew her name; she was so taken up with her own thoughts. she would have been rather surprised had she known that it was about her, poor little neglected, uncared for girl as she chose to fancy herself, that the two mothers had been speaking those long ten minutes in the parlour—'mayn't i see celestina at [108]all?' biddy went on. 'i think alie's very——'

'very what?' said her mother. 'alie has been quietly waiting in the shop for me as i told her.'

alie came forward as she spoke.

'and celestina is not in this morning,' said mrs. fairchild. 'she had a headache, so i have sent her out a walk.'

thus all biddy's temper and jealousy had been thrown away. she felt rather foolish as she followed her mother and rosalys down the street.

after stopping for a moment at the grocer's, mrs. vane turned to go home by the parade, the same way by which the children had come to seacove that saturday. it was a fine bright afternoon, still early—a little breeze blew in from the sea—the tide was far out.

'mayn't we go home by the shore, mamma?' alie asked. 'it is nice firm walking nearly all the way.'

mrs. vane consented: they all turned down a sort of short cart-track, leading through the stony shingle to the smooth sands beyond. the sun was still some height above the horizon, but the cold frosty air gave it already the red evening look. glancing upwards at it biddy remembered the day she had watched it setting and the good resolutions she had then made. she almost felt as if the sun [109]was looking at her and reminding her of them, and a feeling of shame, not proud but humble, crept over her. she went close up to her mother and slipped her hand through her arm.

'mamma,' she said very gently, 'i'm sorry for being so cross.'

'i am glad to hear you say so, bride,' said her mother. she spoke very gravely, and at first bridget felt a little disappointed. but after a moment's—less than a moment's—hesitation, the fat little hand felt itself clasped and pressed with a kindly affection that, truth to tell, biddy was scarcely accustomed to. for there is no denying that she was a very trying and tiresome little girl. and mrs. vane was quick and sensitive, and of late she had had much anxiety and strain, and she was not of a nature to take things calmly. rosalys was of a much more even and cheery temperament: she 'took after' her father, as the country-people say. it was not without putting some slight force on herself that biddy's mother pressed the little hand; and that she did so was in great part owing to a sudden remembrance of some words which mrs. fairchild had said during their few minutes' conversation, which, as i told you, had been principally about bridget.[110]

'yes,' celestina's mother had replied in answer to a remark of the rector's wife, 'i can see that she must be a child who needs careful management. firmness of course—but also the greatest, the very greatest gentleness, so as never to crush or repress any deeper feeling whenever it comes.'

and the words had stayed in biddy's mother's mind. ah, children, how much we may do for good, and, alas, for bad, by our simplest words sometimes!

so in spite of still feeling irritated and sore against cross-grained biddy, her mother crushed down her own vexation and met the child's better mind more than half-way.

a queer feeling came over the little girl; a sort of choke in her throat, which she had never felt before.

'if mamma was always like that how good i would be,' thought biddy, as she walked on quietly, her hand still on her mother's arm.

suddenly she withdrew it with a little cry, and ran on a few steps. some way before them a small figure stood out dark against the sky, from time to time stooping as if picking up something. bridget had excellent eyes when she chose to use them.

'it's celestina, mamma,' she exclaimed, running back to her mother and alie. 'mayn't i go and [111]speak to her? she's all alone. come, smuttie—it'll be a nice run for you. i may, mayn't i, mamma?'

'very well,' said her mother, and almost before she said the words biddy was off.

'she must be a nice little girl,' said mrs. vane; 'her mother seems such a sweet woman. but, alie, did you ever see anything like bride's changeableness?' and she gave a little sigh.

'but, mamma dear, she did say she was sorry very nicely this time—very real-ly,' said rosalys.

'yes, darling,' her mother agreed.

a minute or two brought them up to where the two children were standing talking together, greatly to bridget's satisfaction, though celestina looked very quiet and almost grave.

'how do you do, my dear?' said mrs. vane, shaking hands with her. 'i have just seen your mother; she said you were out a walk, but we did not know we should find you on the shore. is it not rather lonely for you here by yourself?'

'i was looking for shells, ma'am,' celestina replied. 'there's very pretty tiny ones just about here sometimes, though you have to look for them a good deal; they're so buried in the sand.'

'but she has found such beauties, and she takes [112]them home for her dolls to use for dishes, and some of them for ornaments,' said biddy. 'do show mamma how sweet they are, celestina. and oh, mamma, mayn't i stay a little with celestina and look for them too?'

mrs. vane hesitated.

'i'm afraid not, biddy,' she said. 'i must be going in—and alie too. she must write to grandmamma to-day.'

'oh, but mayn't i stay?' asked biddy entreatingly. 'it's quite safe for me if it's safe for celestina, and she says her mamma often lets her come out on the shore alone.'

mrs. vane looked round; the seashore was perfectly quiet except for one or two old fishermen mending their nets at some distance. one could have thought it miles away from the little port and the ships and the sailors. then, too, the rectory was a very short distance off, and indeed from its upper windows this sheltered stretch of sand could be clearly seen.

'well, yes,' she said. 'you may stay for half an hour or so—not longer. and indeed by then it will be quite time for you too to be going home, will it not, my little girl?' she added to celestina.[113]

'yes, ma'am. i must be home by half-past four, and it takes twenty minutes from here. i can go past the rectory and see miss——' she hesitated over the name, 'miss biddy in at the gate, if you please,' said celestina, in her womanly little way.

mrs. vane thanked her; then she and rosalys walked on, and the two small damsels were left alone.

'why must you be in by half-past four?' asked biddy.

'it's getting dark by then,' said celestina. 'besides there's things to do. i get the tea ready very often. when mother's not very busy it waits for her till she can leave the shop, but to-day i know she's busy, 'cos father's got a great many letters to write. so i'll get the table all ready.'

bridget gazed at her.

'do you like doing it?' she asked. 'you're such a little girl, you see—not much bigger than me, and you play with dolls.'

'i like to be useful to mother,' said celestina simply.

this was rather a new idea to bridget, and she was sometimes very lazy about thinking over new ideas.[114]

'alie's useful to mamma, i suppose,' she said, 'but then she's the eldest. and you're the only one—that's why, i daresay. is it nice to be the only one?'

'sometimes it's very alone,' said celestina, 'some days when mother's very busy and i scarcely see her, and i've nobody to show the dolls to.'

'i know,' said biddy. 'i'm rather alone too, for alie's so big, you see. oh, celestina, do look, isn't this a beauty? look, it's all pinky inside. now i've got six and this beauty. i think that'll do for to-day. i'm tired of looking.'

'sometimes i look for ever so long—a whole hour,' said celestina, rather taken aback by biddy's fitfulness. 'but perhaps we'd better run about a little to keep warm. it isn't like as if it was summer.'

'i'm not cold and i don't like running,' said biddy. 'let's just walk, celestina, and you tell me things. oh, look at the sun—he's getting redder and redder—and look at the lighthouse, it's shining red too. is it a fire burning inside, do you think, celestina?'

'no, it's the sun's redness shining on the glass. the top room is all windows—i've been there once,' she said. 'it's a good way to walk though it looks so near, and there's some water too between. father [115]took us once in a boat, mother and me, when the tide was in, and we had dinner there; we took it with us, and there was a nice old man father knew. and when the tide went out we came over a bit of water till we got to the stones, in the boat, and then the boatman took it back, and we walked home right along the stones—you see where i mean?'

she pointed to the rocky ridge which i told you ran out from the shore to the lighthouse. bridget listened with the greatest interest.

'how nice,' she said. 'couldn't you have walked the whole way? i'm sure there isn't any water between now—i can't see it. it must have gone away.'

'oh no, it hasn't,' said celestina. 'it's always there: it couldn't go away. you couldn't ever get to the lighthouse without a boat; once one of the men had to come in a hurry, and father said he had to wade to over his waist.'

but bridget was not convinced. she stood there gazing out seawards at the lighthouse.

'i would like to go there,' she said. 'can't you see a long way from the top room that's all windows, celestina? i should think you could see to the—what do they call that thing at the top of the world—the north stick, is it?'

celestina was not very much given to laughing, but this was too funny.

'the north pole, you mean,' she said. 'oh no, you couldn't see to there, i'm quite sure. besides, there isn't anything to see like that—not a pole sticking up in the ground—it's just the name of a place. father's told me all about it. and so did the old man at the lighthouse. oh, i would like to go there—better than anywhere—just think how strange it must be, all the snow and the ice mountains and everything quite, quite still!'