A Patriotic Schoolgirl Part 22

"I rode in to town every day, and did Mother's shopping for her; and we went to a sale and bought the jolliest little governess car and harness."

"We were going to Brighton, only Mother was so afraid of bombs on the south coast, so Daddy said it was safer to stop at home; and I was glad, because we'd spent last Christmas at Grannie's, so I really hadn't seen very much of home."

"d.i.c.k got a week's leave, and we'd an absolutely gorgeous time!"

"James and Vincent brought two school friends home with them--such ripping boys!"

"We went out boating on the lake."

"And we went to the cinema nearly every day."

"What have you been doing, Marjorie?" asked Chrissie.

"Heaps of things. We were staying at Redferne, and Uncle showed us all over the munition works. They're so strict they won't let anybody go through now; but Uncle's the head, so of course he could take Dona and me. And we saw a Belgian town for the Belgian workers there. It's built quite separately, and has barbed-wire entanglements round. There are a thousand houses, and six hundred hostels, and ever so many huts as well, and shops, and a post office, and a hall of justice. You can't go in through the gate without a pa.s.s, but Uncle knew the manager, so it was all right."

"I don't call that as much fun as boating," said Betty.

"Or the cinema," added Sylvia.

"It was nicer, because it was patriotic," retorted Marjorie. "I like to see what the country is doing for the war. You two think of nothing but silly jokes."

"Don't show temper, my child," observed Betty blandly. "Sylvia, I'm going down at once to put my name on the cricket list. I'll finish my unpacking afterwards."

"I'll come with you," said Sylvia. "We shan't get an innings to-morrow unless we sign on straight away."

"They're a couple of rattle-pates!" laughed Chrissie as their room-mates made their exit, executing a fox-trot _en route_. "I don't believe they ever think seriously about anything. Never mind, old sport! I'm interested in what you do in the holidays. Tell me some more about the munition works and the Belgian town. I like to hear all you've seen. I wish I could go to Redferne myself."

"You wouldn't see anything if you did, because only Uncle can take people round the works. Oh, it was wonderful! We went into the danger zone. And we saw girls with their faces all yellow. I haven't time to tell you half now, but I will afterwards. I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"It does one good to know what's going on," commented Chrissie.

The Daylight Saving Act was now in operation, so the school had an extra hour available for outdoor exercise. Whenever the weather was fine enough they were encouraged to spend every available moment in the fresh air. A certain amount of cricket practice was compulsory; but for the rest of the time those who liked might play tennis or basket ball, or could stroll about the grounds. Select parties, under the leaders.h.i.+p of a mistress, were taken botanizing, or to hunt for specimens on the beach. There was keen compet.i.tion for these rambles, and as eligibility depended upon marks in the Science cla.s.ses, it considerably raised the standard of work.

Dona, who was rather dull at ordinary lessons, shone in Natural History.

It was her one subject. She wrote her notes neatly, and would make beautiful little drawings to ill.u.s.trate the various points. She had sharp eyes, and when out on a ramble would spy birds' nests or other treasures which n.o.body else had noticed, and knew all the likeliest places in which to look for caterpillars. She was a great favourite with Miss Carter, the Science mistress, and her name was almost always down on the excursion list. One day, in company with eleven other ardent naturalists and the mistress, she came toiling up from the beach on to the road that led to Whitecliffe. Her basket, filled with spoils from the rocks and pools, was rather a dripping object, her shoes were full of sand, and she was tired, but cheery. She had hurried on and reached the summit first, quite some way in advance of her companions. As she stood waiting for them she heard the sound of voices and footsteps, and round the corner came a girl, wheeling a long perambulator with a child in it. There was no mistaking the couple, they were the nursemaid and the little boy whom Dona and Marjorie had met on the cliffs last autumn. Lizzie looked just the same--rosy, good-natured, and untidy as ever--but it was a very etherealized Eric who lay in the perambulator.

The lovely little face looked white and transparent as alabaster, the brown eyes seemed bigger and more wistful, the golden curls had grown, and framed the pale cheeks like a saint's halo, the small hands folded on the shabby rug were thin and colourless. The child was wasted almost to a shadow, and the blue veins on his forehead showed prominently. He recognized Dona at once, and for a moment a beautiful rosy flush flooded his pathetic little face.

"Oh, Lizzie, it's my fairy lady!" he cried excitedly.

The nurse girl stopped in amazement.

"Well, now! Who'd have thought of seeing you?" she said to Dona. "Eric's been talking about you all the winter. He's been awful bad, he has. This is the first time I've had him out for months. He's still got that book you gave him. I should think he knows every story in it off by heart."

Dona was bending over the carriage holding the frail little hand that Eric offered.

"You're Silverstar!" he said, gazing up at her with keen satisfaction.

"Where are Bluebell and Princess Goldilocks?"

"They're not here to-day."

"Oh, I do so want to see them!"

"They'll be sorry to miss you."

"He'll talk of nothing else now," observed Lizzie. "You wouldn't believe what a fancy he's taken to you three; and he's a queer child--he doesn't like everybody."

"I want to see the others!" repeated Eric, with the suspicion of a wail in his voice.

"Look here," said Dona hastily, "to-morrow's our exeat day. Can you bring him to that place on the cliffs where we met before? We'll be there at four o'clock--all of us. You can leave him with us if you want to go shopping. Now I must fly, for my teacher's calling me."

"We'll be there," smiled Eric, waving a good-bye.

"That's if your ma says you're well enough," added Lizzie cautiously.

Before Preparation Dona sought out Marjorie, and told her of the meeting with the little boy.

"We've just got to be on the cliff to-morrow," she said. "I wouldn't disappoint that child for a thousand pounds!"

"Auntie would send Hodson with us, I'm sure, if Elaine can't go. I'm so glad you happened to see him. We'd often wondered what had become of him, poor little chap! By the by, couldn't we take him something?"

"I'd thought of that. We'll fly down to Whitecliffe to-morrow, first thing after we get to Auntie's, and buy him a book at the Stores."

"I hope to goodness it'll be a fine day, or perhaps they won't let him come."

"I believe he'll cry his eyes out if they don't. He's tremendously set on it."

Very fortunately the weather on Wednesday was all that could be desired. Marjorie and Dona rushed into The Tamarisks in quite a state of excitement, and both together poured out their information. Elaine was as interested as they to meet Eric again, and readily agreed to the proposed expedition.

"We'll take some cake and milk with us, and have a little picnic," she suggested. "Let us tear down to Whitecliffe at once and buy him a present."

Shortly before four o'clock the three girls, carrying a tea-basket and several parcels, were walking along the cliffs above the cove. The long perambulator was already waiting at the trysting-place, and Eric, propped up with pillows, smiled a welcome. Elaine was shocked to see how ill the child looked. He had been frail enough in the autumn, but now the poor little body seemed only a transparent garment through which the soul shone plainly. She greeted him brightly, but with an ache in her heart.

"My Princess!" he said. "So you've come back to me at last! And Fairy Bluebell too! Oh, I've wanted you all! It's been a weary winter. The gnomes kept me shut up in their hill all the time. They wouldn't let me out."

"Perhaps they were afraid the witches might catch you," answered Marjorie.

"Yes, I expect that was partly it, but the gnomes are jealous, and like to guard me. I don't know what I should have done without t.i.tania."

"Did she come to see you?"

"Sometimes. She can't come often, because she's so busy. She's got crowds of young fairies to look after and keep in order, and sometimes they're naughty. You wouldn't believe fairies could be naughty, could you?"

"I suppose there are good and bad ones," laughed Dona.

"He's just silly over fairies!" broke in Lizzie. "Talks of nothing else, and makes out we're all witches or pixies or what not. Well, Eric, I've got to go and buy some b.u.t.ter. Will you be good if I leave you here till I come back? I shan't be above half an hour or so," she added to the girls.

"Don't hurry," replied Elaine. "We can stay until half-past five. We've brought our tea, if Eric may have some with us. May he eat cake?"