by this time priscilla was so much better she was able to go for short walks and, best of all, for drives with her father. she loved these better than anything, for she had her father all to herself, and it was delightful to sit propped up with cushions, and with no strap around her to keep her from falling out, and so to drive betsy up the hills, for she could manage that with her one hand, while her father read to her.
one day they drove to lady carey’s house. priscilla did not like that very well, for she had not seen lady carey since that dreadful day when she had caught her sweeping the drawing-room. but lady carey was not very well, and dr. carlyon had been sent for, and as she had been very kind to geoffrey and priscilla while they were ill, and had sent them fruit and flowers and picture-papers, he thought priscilla should go herself and thank her for her kindness, if lady carey was well enough to see her.
lady carey was well enough, and after the doctor had paid his visit, he came out to the carriage for priscilla, who had been sitting there feeling very nervous all the time, and half hoping, though she would not have liked any one to know it, that lady carey would decide that she felt too unwell and too tired to see visitors.
she looked as grave and nervous as she felt when her father lifted her down from the dog-cart, and straightened her hat and her frock, and led her through the big, cool, flower-scented hall to the pretty, shady room where lady carey sat in her big chair by the open window looking out on the flower-garden.
“priscilla has come to thank you for all your kindness to her, and to say good-bye before going to porthcallis,” said the doctor; and priscilla walked sedately up to the pretty invalid, shook hands, and, after only a second’s nervous hesitation, put up her face to kiss her.
lady carey returned the kiss very heartily, and pulling a little low chair close to her, told priscilla to sit on it.
priscilla did so gladly; it was such a charming little chair, with gilt legs and back and a cushioned seat of a delicate grey silk with roses worked all over it.
“oh, how pretty—” she began, then stopped abruptly as she remembered nurse’s directions that it is not polite to remark on what one sees, and at the same moment she noticed that her father had gone away and left her alone with her hostess.
but before she could feel alarmed by this, lady carey had begun to talk to her, and to ask her questions about her arm, and her illness, and her coming visit to the seaside, and then about loveday; and very soon priscilla was telling her all about loveday and her bucket, and aaron, and miss potts, and all sorts of things; and lady carey told priscilla of how she used to stay by the sea when she was a little girl, and all kinds of other interesting tales; and priscilla felt that she could stay there and listen to her and talk to her for ever so long. but presently dr. carlyon put his head in again.
“lady carey, i think your visitor has stayed long enough for one day. will you tell her to go, please?”
lady carey laughed. “i shall tell you to go for just five minutes longer,” she said brightly. “i have something i especially want to say to priscilla before we part.”
“i suppose i must, then,” said the doctor, laughing, as he turned away.
“will you ring that bell for me, priscilla, please?” said lady carey, as soon as he had gone.
priscilla went over and pulled very, very carefully at a pretty silk bell-pull which hung beside the fireplace. it was a very gentle pull, but it answered all right, for in a moment a very neat and smiling maid appeared.
“sanders, will you go to my room and bring me down that parcel you placed on the table at the foot of my bed this morning.”
“yes, ’m,” said sanders; and away she went, and in a moment or so was back again with a big paper parcel in her hand, which she handed to lady carey.
priscilla looked on with interest, wondering what it all meant.
“i have something here,” said lady carey, untying the string, “that i have been making for you and your little sister; and i want to give you yours now, and i will ask you to take loveday’s to her, for i think you may both find them useful by the sea;” and, unwrapping the paper, lady carey took out and shook out a pretty warm cloak, big enough to cover priscilla to the hem of her skirts. it was made of a soft blue cloth, bound with ribbon, and it had a hood lined with silk of the same shade.
priscilla was so delighted and surprised when she saw it, and heard that it was for her, that she could hardly speak.
“now try it on,” said lady carey; and priscilla was soon enveloped in the cloak, with the hood drawn over her curls, and her grey eyes and pretty pale face looked up at her kind friend so gratefully that lady carey drew her to her, and held her very close as she kissed her affectionately.
“oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” cried priscilla, finding her voice at last. “i love my cloak; i think it is perfectly beautiful!”
then lady carey undid the other parcel, and took out a red one made in the same way.
“this is for loveday. do you think she will like it?”
priscilla was again almost speechless with delight.
“she will love hers too,” she cried at last rapturously. “and she looks so pretty in red. thank you, lady carey, very much indeed. oh, i want loveday to see them both, now, at once, and i want mother to see, and father. o father,” she cried, running to him as he came into the room again, “do look at what lady carey has made for loveday and me!”
of how she got out of the house, of her good-byes, and her drive home priscilla remembered nothing. of course, she wore her blue cloak—it would have been too much to expect her not to—and when she got home she flew into the house to tell her mother her news. but the next thing that clearly stood out in priscilla’s mind when she thought it all over afterwards was her father’s coming into the room with a letter in his hand. mrs. carlyon was sitting with loveday’s red cloak in her hands (priscilla always remembered that); her own she was still wearing, and was feeling it rather warm, when her father drove all other thoughts out of her head by saying: “just listen, dear, to this extraordinary letter that i have had from loveday,” and he read it aloud.
“my dear daddy,—plese will you come at once, i am in great truble i wassent nawty reely but mr. winter sais we are and he was going to get a polisman, but he diden, he let us go home whil he thot what he shud do to punnish us i hop he won’t send us to prissen, bessie lost us and cride and took us home. do come quik, i am very sory, we were piskies. how is prissy.—your loving
“loveday. do come quik.”
as she listened to this letter priscilla thought she should have fainted with fright. policemen! and prison! and loveday perhaps with handcuffs on, and oh, so frightened! she looked with a white face and terrified eyes at her mother, who was still holding the red cloak, and, somehow, the sight of that made it all seem more dreadful.
“o father, what can we do?” she cried piteously.“loveday shan’t go to prison; she mustn’t! she can’t have been naughty enough for that.”
but to her surprise her father, instead of being frightened and angry, looked almost as though he were amused about something—at least, until he glanced at priscilla; but when he saw her white face, he grew grave at once.
“don’t be foolish, darling,” he said, drawing her to him. “you surely aren’t really frightened. it cannot be anything very serious, or bessie would have written too, or telegraphed; she wouldn’t have left it to loveday to have told us all about a serious matter. i expect the truth of it is that miss loveday and master aaron have been up to some mischief, and some one—a mr. winter i think she calls him—has frightened them, or tried to, by talking about prison and police.”
mrs. carlyon, who had been lost in thought for some minutes, suddenly looked up.
“mr. winter!” she exclaimed. “why, that is the name of that poor gentleman whose only son was drowned there, before his father’s eyes, some few years ago. he has shut himself up there ever since. don’t you remember, dear?”
“of course; yes, i remember now,” said the doctor, nodding his head thoughtfully. “a curious, morose old man. i met him once. i think it is his cottage that the lobbs live in.”
all this time he was sitting with one arm round priscilla, who stood very silent, with her head laid against her father’s shoulder, her face very white and troubled still. “it is all right, dear, i am sure,” he said, suddenly noticing how ill she looked; “don’t you worry about it.”
“but, father, do you think it is all right?” asked priscilla, in a trembling voice.
“oh yes,” said dr. carlyon cheerfully. “i haven’t a doubt. i think i will go and send a telegram to bessie to say i will just run down to-morrow for the day,” he added; “then i shall know for certain what is amiss. and, what do you say? shall i take prissy with me, instead of waiting till next week? the change will be good for her, i think, and, at any rate, she will have loveday under her eye, and know that the policeman has not got her locked up in a cell. while i am there i can look about for rooms, too, for the rest of us. don’t you think those are very nice plans, little woman?”—turning to priscilla. “you would like to go down with me to-morrow, wouldn’t you, and help look for rooms for mother and geoffrey?”
“oh yes,” cried priscilla, throwing one arm about her father’s neck and kissing him, “please, father;” and her face, though still very pale, grew brighter and less alarmed-looking.
“but—do you think it will be all right to wait till then? they won’t take away loveday, or——”
“my dear, they couldn’t, and wouldn’t. of course not; i expect we shall have a letter by the next post from bessie. now i will go to the office and send this telegram, and tell bessie to be sure and let me know if i must come before to-morrow.” and away he went.
after all this priscilla felt too tired and languid to do anything, even to sort out the toys she wanted to take with her, but when presently a telegram came back from bessie to say, “all well, nothing serious,” she felt very much happier, and grew quite excited at the thought that she was going to see loveday to-morrow, and to take her her red cloak, and she lay back very contentedly in her chair and watched her mother and nurse looking over her clothes to see what they should pack, and then arranging them in her box.
by the post next morning came bessie’s letter telling them all about loveday’s and aaron’s escapade. when priscilla heard it she felt very frightened again, for it seemed such a dreadful thing that they had done. but still her father did not seem very much concerned, and, seeing him so cheerful, priscilla tried to be so too, though in her secret heart she had a great dread of the morose, mysterious mr. winter, and did not feel at all sure that, after all, he would not fulfil his threat, and send for a policeman.
however, on a bright sunny morning, with a lot to do, with farewell visits to pay to miss potts, mrs. tickell, and many others, a journey to the sea before one, two new cloaks, hidden away where they could easily be got at, a little sister, and the sea, and a holiday at the end of the journey, no one could feel quite, quite miserable. and with the sun shining and the breeze blowing, and betsy trotting quickly along between the flower-decked hedges, and geoffrey beside one making fun, it did not seem possible that anything very, very dreadful could happen, and priscilla’s spirits rose enormously.
she felt quite sorry for hocking, who was to be left behind.
“o hocking,” she sighed, “don’t you wish you were going to the seaside too?”
but hocking did not seem at all perturbed at being left behind. “what’s the use of wishing, miss?” he said slowly; “if wishes were ’orses beggars would ride.”
priscilla looked at him for a moment, puzzled, then looked away to try and think out his meaning. “i don’t see any sense in that,” she said at last, having thought the matter over for some time. “if they were on horseback they couldn’t beg, and they wouldn’t be beggars.”
“ezzackly, miss,” said hocking stolidly, as though that was what he had been arguing, and did not open his lips again.
at the station priscilla kissed betsy, shook hands with hocking, and then went with geoffrey on to the platform, while her father took the tickets. she wished now that geoffrey was coming too, and she told him so.
“i wish i was,” said geoffrey; “but, you see, i’ve got to wait and bring mother and nurse. if i hadn’t, i’d have gone to old winter and jolly well told him what i thought of him for frightening a child as small as loveday. i call it cowardly, and—and he ought to be told of it too.”
priscilla gasped at the mere thought of geoffrey’s daring. but after she had said good-bye to him, and he had driven off homewards with hocking, and she and her father had settled down comfortably in a carriage to themselves, her thoughts flew again to what he had said about mr. winter, and by-and-by a thought came into her mind, which grew and grew, until before long it had become a very firm resolution.
if geoffrey thought it right to go to mr. winter and speak for loveday, it was right for her to do so. she could not speak as severely as geoffrey said he should, and perhaps it might be better not to; but she could say something, and she made up her mind to go on the very first opportunity—that is, if her father did not do so—and ask to see mr. winter, and then apologise for what loveday had done, and ask him to forgive her.
so occupied was she with this plan that she never once spoke all the way to porthcallis, and her father at last looked quite anxiously over his paper at her, so serious and grave was her face, and her eyes so very troubled.
“you aren’t feeling homesick, are you?” he asked gently.
priscilla looked up with a start and then a smile.
“no, father,” she said brightly, “’cause mother and geoffrey will come soon, and you too.”
and after that she tried to laugh and talk a good deal, for she did not want any one to guess her secret.
“have you loveday’s red cloak with you?”
“yes; it is in this basket, so that i can get at it quite easily. i think she will be able to wear it back from the station, don’t you, father? it seems rather cold, i think.”
“very cold!” laughed dr. carlyon, pretending to shiver as the sea-breeze swept into the compartment.“now, then, look out for the first glimpse of the sea, and now for the station, and——”
“and loveday!” almost shrieked priscilla. “she is here. o father, father, she is here! she isn’t a prisoner yet!” and, by priscilla’s rapturous relief, dr. carlyon realised how great, in spite of all, had been her secret fears.
