Aunt Judith Part 12

"Write long letters and think of him every day," put in a blithe, merry voice at the door; and Winnie sprang up with a cry of delight as d.i.c.k strode into the room attired in all the splendour of his new uniform.

"How do I look, Win?" he cried, touching his cap, and standing in all the pride of his young, bright strength, ready to be admired. "Am I respectable?"

But he need hardly have asked that question, for the little sister's face was all aglow, and her rosy lips laughing a glad, proud smile.

"Respectable!" (with scorn); "why, Richard, you're simply _splendid_!

And oh! you do look every inch a sailor."

"I thought I would let you see me in full uniform before packing up my baggage," said d.i.c.k, by way of apology for his childish display. "Look at the bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, Win, and the badge on my cap; they make me feel as if I were a sailor already."

Winnie duly admired.

"I hope you'll have a good voyage, and not find the work too hard," she whispered afterwards, and the boy answered.

"Win," he began impressively, "I intend putting my whole 'shoulder to the wheel.' If I cannot work with the brain, I will strive my very best with hand and heart, and do my duty come what may. I mean to be a true man, and live an honest, upright life, not in order to gain every one's good opinion (though of course I should dearly like that too), but because it is right."

Winnie's eyes were s.h.i.+ning. "I told you so," she said, clapping her hands joyously. "You'll be a king amongst men yet. And oh, how proudly our father will some day talk of 'my sailor son!'" The boy's face flushed with pleasure. "But, d.i.c.k, you won't care less for me when you become both good and great; will you?" and the pretty voice had a wistful ring in it as Winnie neared the close of her sentence.

"Good! why, you're an angel compared with me, Win," said the boy lovingly; "but we'll both try our best, dear. I'm a great, rough boor of a lad, Win, and you're such a dainty, fairy creature. But think how grand it would be to know that every day you at home and I out on the ocean were striving to do our duty and live as we ought to live. I've been all wrong in the past, I know, and it is little wonder the others don't care much about me; but I mean to strike out afresh and begin all over again. See here, Winnie; this is my farewell gift to you. I thought you would prize it more than anything else," and d.i.c.k placed a beautiful pocket Bible in his sister's hands.

Winnie touched the little volume reverently, and the eyes of the listener behind the curtains grew dim as the child's soft voice replied, "I cannot thank you as I would, d.i.c.k, for your lovely present; but I love you dearly, dearly. I shall keep it always close beside me, and read a portion every day. Bow down your head, dear boy, and let me kiss you for your goodness."

d.i.c.k submitted to the caress, and then invited Winnie up to his room in order to inspect a few presents he had received from some of his school-fellows; and when brother and sister had disappeared, Edith stole softly from her place of concealment, and the dancing fire-flames saw that her eyes were wet with tears.

"I have caught a glimpse of true life to-night," she said, smiling wistfully; "and it has shown me how hollow, hollow is the false one I daily lead. Poor d.i.c.k! I am afraid we have misjudged him after all, and may yet find out, as Winnie so confidently prophesies, that he is worthy of all honour and admiration. As for her, she will learn, so far as lies in my power, that love is to be found in the house, although her sailor boy has left the parent nest." Then seating herself in the cosiest-looking chair, she lay back and waited quietly for the return of the owners of the oak parlour.

In the course of half-an-hour they re-appeared, and gazed with wide-open eyes on the fair intruder; but Edith, laughing lazily, bade them come forward and welcome the unexpected guest.

Winnie sprang to her side. "We are both awfully pleased to see you, Edith," she said; "only you surprised us so. Whatever brings you here when there are guests in the drawing-room?"

"I had a headache," replied the elder sister, drawing the little girl close to her side and beginning to toy with the tangled hair; "besides"--looking up at the big, stalwart youth standing near--"I wished to enjoy a little of d.i.c.k's society before he goes away."

d.i.c.k's face relaxed into a broad grin of unbelief, and Winnie cried out "Oh!" then caught herself and stopped short; but Edith's equanimity remained undisturbed.

"It is quite true," she said with a charming smile. "I see you are in full uniform, d.i.c.k. Stand back, and let me admire my sailor brother."

Edith could be very lovable and winning when she liked, and to-night she seemed thoroughly bent on doing her utmost to please. The boy, though mystified at this sudden change in his fas.h.i.+onable sister, obeyed her command, and stood erect before her, feeling perhaps a little bashful, but never flinching under the steady scrutiny.

"You look very well," she said after a little pause. "Sit down, d.i.c.k; I wish to speak to you. I know perfectly Winnie is wondering why the cross elder sister is sitting here taking such an interest in you both to-night. But don't ask an explanation for such conduct; only believe that her heart is not so hard as you deem it, and that she has begun to look under the surface for some one's true character."

Winnie gave the speaker's hand a little squeeze of approbation, while a pleased smile lit up d.i.c.k's face. As neither spoke, however, Edith continued: "And now, may I crave of you, d.i.c.k, a very great favour?

Winnie is to be driven down to-morrow afternoon to see through your s.h.i.+p. May I come too? or is she to be the only privileged young lady?"

The boy looked incredulously at his pretty sister. "Are you really in earnest, Edith?" he inquired, "or are you laughing at me?"

"I mean what I say, d.i.c.k," was the grave reply; "but if you would rather I remained at home, I shall not trouble you."

"Oh, come! do come!" whispered Winnie delightedly. "d.i.c.k will be only too pleased;--will you not, dear old boy?" So it was settled; and Edith rose to leave the cosy room, which seemed to her at that moment like a haven of rest.

"It was very, very good of you to come and spend a wee quiet time with us," said Winnie, as she watched her beautiful sister shaking out her crumpled skirts and pus.h.i.+ng back little stray locks of hair from her white forehead. "Do you know we are going to have a great treat to-morrow night? Archie Trollope is coming in; and cook has promised us a delicious supper in honour of d.i.c.k's last evening at home."

"I think you ought to give me an invitation," replied Edith, pausing at the doorway. "I should like to enjoy the feast too.--No, no," as d.i.c.k and Winnie exchanged doubtful glances; "I was only teasing you both.

Accept my best wishes for a happy evening, dears. Good-night;" and then the soft silken figure glided quietly away.

"I'm glad she really did not mean what she said," announced d.i.c.k, giving a sigh of relief as he threw himself down on the rug beside Puck and commenced to tease that worthy little animal; "but I think, Win, if we had pressed her she would have come."

"I am sure of it," replied Winnie. "She looked so disappointed when we did not speak. But, d.i.c.k, was she not ever so nice to-night? and is she not beautiful?"

"Yes," replied her brother, pulling Puck's tail mischievously; "but we're a good-looking family, Win, with the exception of myself."

The little girl's reply was thoroughly characteristic: "Every house has its ugly duckling, dear boy," she observed quaintly, "and they seldom turn out swans except in story-books. However, it does not matter very much about a man's personal appearance; and you--why, you might have been a great deal worse."

d.i.c.k roared at the attempted consolation. "What a Job's comforter you are, Win!" he said with a broad grin; "but as you say, little sister, a man's personal appearance, though it sometimes goes a long way, is not the main thing, and I reckon d.i.c.k Blake will manage through the world well enough in spite of freckled skin and fiery hair."

"Of course he will," replied Winnie; "there's no doubt about that."

Then the two began to talk seriously and lovingly their own heart-thoughts, and the minutes pa.s.sed all too rapidly. Both started when the clock struck the hour for retiring, and there was a little quiver in Winnie's voice as she wished her brother good-night, and thought that only another evening, then the kind face bending over her would be looking out on the wide waste of waters, and she would have to whisper her loving good-nights to the stars instead. "Oh, my dear, my dear," she sobbed to herself in the darkness, "how sorely, sorely I shall miss you! But I am so glad there is a great, good Father in heaven who will guide and keep you wherever you are. Oh! if Aunt Judith were only here to say something comforting to me--something that would ease this ache of sorrow at my heart and help me to feel strong and brave."

Then, as she lay weeping out her loneliness in the quiet night, some words she had read in one of Aunt Judith's books stole softly into her mind, like a ray of golden sunlight penetrating through the c.h.i.n.ks of a darkened room: "Whatever is grieving you, however burdensome or trivial the trouble may be, tell it to Jesus."

Winnie's eyes flashed, and springing out of bed with sudden determination she knelt down, a little, fragile figure, by the window ledge, and prayed reverently and trustingly her first heart-prayer. It was a very simple pet.i.tion, uttered in Winnie's own quaint style, at the language of which some people might have smiled; but I think that in heaven there would be a great hush amongst the white-robed throng as they bent their heads to catch the first breathings of a child's soul upwards. And oh, the bursts of hallelujahs as the trusting words floated to the throne of grace, and told of a young heart groping in the darkness for the strong, firm clasp of a Father's hand!

Next afternoon, when the carriage drove round to the door as appointed, the little girl, running downstairs warmly m.u.f.fled up, found Edith wrapped in soft velvets and furs, thoroughly equipped for the drive.

There was the faintest suspicion of a smile wreathing the corners of her lips as she stood tapping impatiently the tesselated floor of the hall with her tiny high-heeled boot, and running the gauntlet of a few teasing remarks from her two brothers, who were loitering near; but on Winnie's approach she turned round, and waving a careless farewell, accompanied her little sister down the broad stone steps to the carriage, where Mr. Blake was awaiting them.

The drive proved to be a pleasant one, and in a short time they found themselves at the docks, and saw the great s.h.i.+ps ranging far and near, with their tapering masts pointing upwards to the cloudy sky. The _Maid of Astolat_ lay close at hand, and as they went on board d.i.c.k appeared, his face black and grimy, but all aglow with a welcoming smile.

"You come along with me," he said, drawing Winnie aside, as the captain, a tall, gentlemanly-looking man, stepped forward and addressed Mr. Blake. "I'll do the honours of the s.h.i.+p tip-top, Win, and show you all round in first-rate style;" and the little sister delivered herself over to his guidance.

How they peered about, to be sure--here, there, everywhere; and how proudly d.i.c.k aired the small amount of nautical language he had managed to pick up! Rough men turned and smiled half unconsciously as the two blithe figures flitted past and their merry laughter rang out in the frosty air. They seemed so happy, and the hearts hardened by sin and adversity sighed over their bygone childhood's days, and thought what a blessed thing it was to be young.

Returning from their exploration, brother and sister found Mr. Blake and Edith still talking to the captain, whose grave, stern face was rapidly relaxing under the influence of that young lady's winning manner and bright, sparkling conversation. d.i.c.k eyed the group as he drew near, and then a comical thought seemed to strike him, for he was heard to mutter, "Jemima! what a lark!" and he twitched his face into a decided grimace of amus.e.m.e.nt.

There was scant time in which to make remarks, however, for Mr. Blake required to be back in the city at a certain hour, and Winnie must not be exposed to the night air. So good-byes were courteously exchanged.

The Blakes, re-entering their carriage, drove rapidly away, and soon the high, tapering masts appeared like specks in the distance.

Next day the _Maid of Astolat_ sailed from the harbour, bearing on board the strong, stalwart figure and honest, true face of Richard Blake.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE PRIZE ESSAY.

One day, towards the close of the school, great excitement prevailed in Mrs. Elder's Select Establishment for Young Ladies, the cause being a communication made through the lady-princ.i.p.al to her pupils from a gentleman and relative of hers lately returned from India. He had visited the school several times within the last few months, and seemed to take an interest in it; but still there was no lack of astonishment when Mrs. Elder announced one morning that her friend, Mr. Corbett, had intimated his intention of awarding a special prize to the pupil who would write the best essay on any of the three following subjects--namely, Christmas joys, a short account of the French Revolution, and a brief review of one of Sir Walter Scott's novels.

The babble of tongues that ensued after this intimation was wonderful.

Mrs. Elder laughingly beat a hasty retreat, and Miss Smith lay resignedly back in her chair, and waited till peace and order were restored.