An Australian Lassie Part 21

"Hullo!" he exclaimed, "and who's this? Polly?"

"No," said Betty.

"Na-o. Then p'raps it's Lucy. Eh?"

John tugged at Betty's dress and said "Come on," urgingly; but the man was already letting down two slip-rails a little way from the crazy gate, and his eyes rested on the second barefooted imp.

"Hullo!" he exclaimed, "An' how's this any'ow?"

John, who had a greater dread of capture than Betty, inquired innocently if there were any wild flowers up this way.

The man drew his hand across his eyes to banish sleep inclinations. "Not many now, I reckon," he said. "There might be a few sprigs of 'eath an'

the flannel flowers ain't all done yet. Goin' to town?"

Betty nodded, and John said,--

"Yes--we'll be gettin' back 'ome" in a fair imitation of his questioner's voice.

"I'll be goin' as far as the markets," said the man "an' I don't mind givin' you a lift ef you like."

John's eyes brightened, for he was longing for the centre of the city, and he had felt they were covering ground very slowly. And Betty's brightened because she thought she would soon coax the man into letting her drive.

So the fortune seekers made their entry into town in a fruit cart.

CHAPTER XVI

THE NOTE ON THE PINCUs.h.i.+ON

Every morning there was a skirmish between Betty and Cyril as to who should have the first bath, and Betty generally won, because as she pointed out, she had Nancy to bath, too, and to make her bed, and set the table, and cut the lunches, whereas Cyril only had to bring up two loads of wood.

But this morning, to Cyril's delight, he was first and he got right into the room and fastened the door with the prop (a short thick stick which was wedged between the centre of the door and the bath, and was Mr.

Bruce's patent to replace the handle that "lost itself"), and still Betty came not. And he loitered in the bathroom and played, and half-dressed, and then undressed, and got back into the bath, and out again, and dressed, and still no Betty banged at the door.

"Can't make out where Miss Betty's got to," said Mary sulkily, "I'll tell your mother on her. She's not set the table, and she's not cut the lunches, and she's not done nothing."

Cyril, who had brought up his wood and otherwise and in every way performed his morning's duties, waxed indignant at Betty and her negligence, and went down the pa.s.sage to her room, muttering--

"I'll tell mother of you, Betty Bruce, so there!"

But no Betty Bruce was there. Only Nancy in her nightgown still, and playing with poor faded Belinda.

Mary had to set the table, and Mary had to cut the lunches, and Nancy had to miss her bath, and go to Mary for the b.u.t.toning of her clothes.

And all because Betty had gone out to make her fortune!

Mrs. Bruce came out of her room late--which was a very usual thing for her to do--and she called:--

"Nancy, come and take baby. Betty, find me a safety pin _quickly_. I think I saw one on the floor near the piano."

And Mr. Bruce followed her in his slippers, and called--

"Nancy--Betty--one of you go down to the gate and bring up the paper."

Cyril ran to them breathless with his news--

"Betty's never got up yet. Mary's had to do all her work an' she's not got breakfast ready yet. And Nancy's had to dress herself an' all."

Mrs. Bruce opened her eyes--just like Dot did when she was very surprised, and said,--

"Then go and _make_ Betty get up at once." But Cyril interrupted with--

"She's not in bed at all. She's out playing somewhere; I daresay she's gone to school so's to be before me and Nancy. She's always doing that now."

Mrs. Bruce had to hurry to make up for lost time--as she had perpetually to do--and she could not stay to lend an ear to Cyril's tale. So he was left grumbling on about Betty, and school, and a hundred and one things that were "not fair."

Nancy had a bowl of porridge and milk in the kitchen, superintended in the eating of it by Mary, who was giving baby her morning portion of bread and milk.

Cyril carried his porridge plate to the verandah that he might watch if Betty was lurking around in the hopes of breakfast.

And Mr. Bruce read the paper and sipped a cup of abominably made coffee serenely.

They were such a scattered family at breakfast time usually, that one away made little difference. No one but Cyril missed Betty at the table.

Her services in the house were missed--so many duties had almost unnoticeably slipped upon her small shoulders, and now it was found there was no one to do them but slip-shod overworked Mary.

Just as Cyril was setting off to school Mary ran after him with a newspaper parcel of clumsy bread and jam sandwiches.

"I'm not sending Miss Betty's," she said--"it'll teach her not to clear out of the way again."

Mrs. Bruce put her head out of the kitchen window--she had not had "time" for any breakfast yet beyond a cup of tea.

"Send Betty home again," she said; "she _shan't_ go to school till her work's done."

But even at eleven o'clock no Betty had arrived. Mary, who had done all the was.h.i.+ng-up--and done some of it very badly--was sent by her mistress to strip Betty's bed and leave it to air. And she found the note on the pincus.h.i.+on, and after reading it through twice, carried it in open-eyed amazement to her mistress, who was eating a peach as she sat on the verandah edge, and merely said, "Very well, give it to your master."

So Mr. Bruce took it, and opened it very leisurely, and then started and said: "Ye G.o.ds!" and read it through to himself first and then out aloud.

"DEAR FATHER AND MOTHER" (it said)--

"I am going away from my childhood's home to make a fortune for all of you. My voice is my fortune. When I've made it I shall come back to you. So good-bye to you all, and may you be very happy always.

"Your loving daughter, "BETTY."

Mrs. Bruce put down her peach and said: "Read it again, will you, dear," in a quiet steady way as though she were trying to understand.