CHAPTER IX.

Cissie Vane.

IN Miss Silver's Sunday-school class was a little girl of the name of Cissie Vane. She was a motherless bairn, who, sad to say, was generally in somebody's way. In the bygone times, which had so nearly faded away from Cissie's memory, she had been as happy as the day was long. She and her father had lived together in the country (her mother had died when Cissie was a tiny mite), and there Mr. Vane had painted his pictures, the sale of which just kept the little home going and the wolf from the door.

But all this was changed. Her father, unfortunately for Cissie, married again, soon after which he seemed to lose interest in his work. His health, too, failed him, and on Cissie's ninth birthday—she was at this time eleven years of age—she was left fatherless.

Her step-mother was a woman of quick, impatient temper, and was by no means always kind. Their home was now in a poor London street, where Mrs. Vane eked out her living by taking lodgers, Cissie proving very helpful in the house.

The little girl's first meeting with Miss Silver happened thus. Cissie, feeling very lonely one Sunday afternoon, made her way by chance to a Sunday-school in a street near by. At a word of invitation she took her place amongst a class of little girls, and the lesson she had interrupted was then continued.

"Now, children," said the lady at the close, "you may ask me any questions that you like, only we must talk softly so as not to disturb the others."

She smiled so sweetly as she spoke, that Cissie's little heart quite warmed within her, and it was she who, in spite of being a new-comer, put the first question.

"Please," she said, "what is your name?"

The voice was both gentle and refined, for the little girl had not caught the accent of the children of the neighbourhood.

The lady, who had expected some question about the Bible story, was a little surprised, but she answered very kindly all the same.

"My name is Margaret Silver," she said; "and what is yours, may I ask?"

"Mine," was the reply, "is Cissie Vane—I like your name best; I shall call you my 'Pretty Lady,' and come to your class again, if you'll let me."

The child meant no impertinence it was easy to see. She had simply fallen in love with her teacher. It was little wonder, for Margaret Silver was as sweet as she was beautiful. She in her turn was attracted to Cissie, the bright little face, framed with curly brown hair, being very winsome.

Cissie kept her promise with regard to coming again, and the friendship between teacher and pupil grew very rapidly.

About a couple of months after Cissie's first appearance at the Sunday-school a very exciting thing happened in her home. The child awoke one night to find the room—a small attic at the top of the house—in which she slept half full of smoke. Frightened, she made her way into the passage, and there she realized an alarming fact—the house was on fire!

As it chanced a little girl, Meggy Smith by name, of about four years of age, was sleeping in the room next to Cissie's attic. She had been left in Mrs. Vane's charge a few weeks previously, and Cissie was devoted to her.

Forgetful of her own danger, she hastened to Meggy's rescue. Quickly awakening her, she carried the little one, heavy though she was, towards the staircase. But here the smoke, which was now almost suffocating, barred their way of escape. The poor children were indeed in a sorry plight!

[Illustration: THE POOR CHILDREN WERE INDEED IN A SORRY PLIGHT.]

By this time the household was aroused, and efforts were being made to reach them. But so rapidly was the fire spreading that the efforts were in vain.

Poor little Meggy was now crying piteously, Cissie meanwhile doing her best to pacify her.

"Don't cry, Meggy dear," said she as bravely as she could speak, although she was feeling terribly frightened herself. "We'll stand at the landing window, and shout for somebody to come and save us."

A few minutes later the two childish forms were seen there from below—all the other inmates of the house had reached safety—and Cissie, having flung the window open, cried loudly for help.

Fortunately it was not long in coming; the alarm had already been given, and the fire-engine and escape were even then on their way.

In a comparatively little while, although it seemed like an age to Cissie and Meggy, the escape was placed at the window, and one by one they were taken in safety to the street below.

A happy little party was seated at breakfast at No. 3, Belford Road, S.W. It consisted of Miss Silver, looking bright and smiling at the head of the table, Mrs. Mortimer, an elderly relative who lived with her—Miss Silver had lost her parents some years previously—and Eileen and Nora.

It was Monday morning. The half-term holiday was nearly over, and the two girls, who, to use their own words, had had a "perfectly lovely time," were supposed to be leaving that afternoon for home.

"Girls," said Miss Silver presently, looking up from a letter she was reading, "are you in a great hurry to go home, or would you like to stay on with me for another couple of days?"

"Oh," cried Eileen, looking as though such a prospect was too good to be true, "is there any chance of it, Cousin Margaret?"

"Yes," was the reply, "there is. I took upon myself to write to your governess—who is an old friend of mine—and also to Mrs. Weston, and both are willing for you to stay on till Wednesday."

"How simply splendiferous!" exclaimed Eileen in delight; and Nora echoed her words.

"Now is there anything you would particularly like to do?" said Miss Silver presently, when the children had expressed their thanks; "we must make the most of the time, you know."

Eileen and Nora thought awhile, and soon came to the conclusion that they would like to go to the Zoo.

"So it shall be," said Miss Silver. "Perhaps Mrs. Mortimer would like to go with us."

But the older lady smiled and shook her head; she preferred a quiet day at home.

"Some time this afternoon," went on Miss Silver, "I want to go and see one of my little Sunday-school pupils who is ill. I think we could manage it on our way home. You two girls can come in with me, if you like, and have a chat with her too."

"We'd like it very much," replied Eileen. "What is her name, and what is the matter with her?"

"Her name is Cissie Vane. She is suffering really from severe shock upon a delicate and ill-fed little frame. And as there was nowhere else for her to go, she was taken to the hospital. She and another child, who seems none the worse for her experience, nearly lost their lives in a fire a few nights ago."

And Miss Silver then told the story as she had heard it from Cissie's lips.

Both Eileen and Nora were intensely interested, and looked forward to the day's programme with the keenest delight.

"There is one person I would like to see while we are here," said Eileen a little later, "and that is Mr. Charlton. He lives in London, and we know his address."

Miss Silver had already heard much about the editor of "Sunny Hours" and of his acceptance of Eileen's story and drawings.

"Well, there's no reason why you shouldn't see him," she replied; "that is, if he has the time to spare. Would you like to send him a few lines asking him to come to-morrow evening if he is disengaged?"

Eileen was very pleased to do so, and the invitation was duly sent, and accepted by return of post.

The time spent at the Zoo was perfect from beginning to end, and Miss Silver, in seeing the children's pleasure, enjoyed it as much as they.

On their way home, as arranged, she and the two girls called at the hospital, where little Cissie Vane was a patient, and there they found the child in a great state of distress. The reason was soon given by Cissie herself, between pitiful sobs which shook her very frame.

On that day her step-mother had been to see her, and had told the little girl that very shortly she was going to Canada, and that Cissie would have to find a new home. But where? Ah! That was the question.