CHAPTER IV

"THE UNITED KINGDOM"

"AND is he coming to-day? Really to-day? And will he be about as old as we are? How scrumptious!"

"His name is Puggy; and Blanche, mother's maid, says he's a terror!"

Christina's eyes were round as she gave Dawn this information.

"How jolly! Has he been sent away from school? Why is he coming before the holidays?"

"His school has got scarlet fever. He is just as old as you Dawn, but mother says he's quite different to you."

"Should think so!" said Dawn in tones of scorn. "There's no one like me in the world, dad says so!"

"I wonder," said Christina meditatively, "if there's a little girl just like me anywhere."

"Dad says God never makes a duplicate anywhere; isn't that a lovely long word, and I learnt another yesterday. It was volatile: it means me, but it isn't very nice. Dad called me a volatile elf, so I pelted him with chestnut skins in the garden till he told me what it meant. Why is he called Puggy? It sounds like a pug-dog."

"I asked father, and he laughed. 'It suits him because he's pugnacious,' he said."

"That's another breather! What does it mean?"

Christina shook her head.

"I keep thinking of Blanche's words, 'a terror.' I expect he'll be a terror to me."

"Now," said Dawn, shaking his fist in her face, "you think of your motto, and don't you dare to talk of any one being a terror to you. And if he is, you bring him along to me, and I'll fight him!"

"Oh," said Christina, "you never would! That would be awful! I always thought it so wicked to fight, but mother does, so I suppose it's what she calls 'sport'!"

"Your mother fight?"

Dawn looked very puzzled. He was in the garden with Christina, and tired with running about, they were now taking a rest on the top of a low wall in the kitchen garden.

"Yes," said Christina with a grave nod; "mother and a lot of ladies all fought each other with sticks in a field at the bottom of the lawn over there. They were fighting for a ball, and they all tried to hit each other. I ran away, because I couldn't bear to look at them."

"Oh, you goose! That was a game of hockey. They weren't hitting each other, only the ball. You really ought to learn some games, Tina; you don't know anything at all!"

"It frightened me," pursued Christina. "I've never seen ladies play at games like that!"

"You wait till this boy comes, then we'll do an awful lot of things; oh, I wish I could stay to see him! Do you think I could run off to the station and see him arrive? What train does he come by?"

"Mother is going to meet him herself; she said she would. I think it's at four o'clock."

"I'll be there then," said Dawn, "and I think I'll leave you now. Good-bye."

He was away like the wind, and Christina, feeling it very dull to be in the garden alone, went indoors. She was full of curiosity over the new arrival, but as usual her fears were uppermost.

"There are so many happenings!" she told herself gravely. "I never shall get to like them. And a strange boy is worse than a strange nurse, or a strange father and mother!"

She was sitting at her nursery tea when Puggy made his appearance. Her stepmother led him forward:

"This is my baby brother, Tina. He does not look a baby, does he? You must be very good friends. He will help you to eat up that plate of bread and butter very quickly. Now, Puggy, be on your best behaviour remember; and when you are in the nursery, do what Nurse tells you."

Puggy was a short, sturdy boy, only half a head taller than Christina herself. His hair was closely cropped, and it was of a reddish tinge. Blue eyes, a very round mouth and snub nose and freckled face, these belonged to Puggy, and his name seemed to suit him.

He sat down to the table in utter silence. Christina looked across the table at him very fearfully. Mrs. Maclahan had left the room, and Nurse began to pour out a cup of very weak tea.

The children's eyes met, then Puggy winked his eye knowingly at Christina. The colour flow into her cheeks, what was she to do? She could not wink back, and she was too shy to speak.

Nurse broke the silence.

"What is your name, my dear?"

"Puggy."

"You were not christened Puggy."

"Wasn't I? I don't remember being at my christening. I s'pose I was there."

Then his round lips widened into a smile.

"My proper name is John Durward, but you are to call me Master Puggy always."

Nurse looked at him sternly, but said nothing; then Puggy addressed Christina:

"You'll have to call me Uncle Puggy."

Christina's eyes became round with wonder. This astonishing statement made her forget her shyness.

"I didn't know little boys could be uncles."

"Oh, can't they! And their nieces have to do what they tell them, always!"

"But you're not a proper uncle. You didn't belong to me when—when I was born."

Puggy looked taken aback. He appealed to Nurse.

"Isn't a fellow uncle to his sister's child?"

Nurse smiled.

"You are no relation to Miss Tina, leastways only a step-uncle."

"Well, that's good enough."

He nodded across at Christina triumphantly.

There was not much more talk between them till after tea, and then somehow or other Christina's shyness melted away, and she found herself talking to Puggy as she talked to Dawn. She told him all about her little playfellow; she showed him her toys and games; and he in his turn waxed confidential.

"I'd like to know that fellow. I believe I saw him at the station; there was a boy with a mop of hair who stared at me as if I were a gorilla. I'll teach him manners when I see him! Look here, just come over the house with me. I want to know my way about."

"But," said Christina feebly, "I don't know my way properly. All the rooms have been locked up till father came home."

"Come on, and let's find them out now. We must do something. It's too slow in this old nursery!"

Christina looked round to ask permission of Nurse, but she had disappeared. So feeling as if she were going into a strange country, she followed the enterprising Puggy out on the landing, and they commenced their investigations. The corridors were long, and some rooms were still locked up, but they peeped into a good many, and at last found themselves before an old arched door at the very end of the upper corridor. One of the under housemaids appeared from the back stairs, and looked quite astonished when she saw the children. Christina spoke to her.

"We want to go through this door Ann, may we?"

"Oh, lawks, Miss Tina! That's up to the turret room that has a ghost. I never goes by that door after dark if I can help it!"

Christina's cheeks blanched, she shrank back. Puggy danced up and down with delight.

"Hurrah for the ghost! Come on, we'll rout him out, and the door isn't locked!"

"Don't you go up those steps, there's a good child, Miss Tina."

Puggy had swung the door open, and a winding stone staircase disclosed itself to them.

"I'm sure we'd better not go," said Christina, looking at the dusky steps with horror.

"Who's the ghost?" demanded Puggy valiantly.

"I dunno. It's just some one that walks about the room there and makes a noise. Mr. Tipton has heard it often. He sleeps in the room there, close to the staircase."

"Let us wait till to-morrow," suggested Christina.

But Puggy was bent on going up the steps that moment, and would have dragged his shrinking little companion after him if a call from Mrs. Maclahan had not stopped him.

Christina hailed the appearance of her stepmother with relief and delight.

"Why, what on earth are you doing here?" she asked, as she came up to them.

Puggy explained, and his sister laughed merrily.

"A ghost! What nonsense! And Tina believes it from the look in her eyes! Come down to the library both of you. We're having tea there, and your father wants to see you, Tina. We'll ask him about the ghost. To-morrow you can explore the house as much as you like."

So down to the library they went, and the blazing fire and the cosy tea that Mr. and Mrs. Maclahan were enjoying did much to drive away Christina's fresh fears.

"No," said Mr. Maclahan, taking hold of his small daughter and perching her on his knee; "we have no ghosts in this house I am glad to say. I used to have the turret room at the top of those stairs as my den as a boy, and if you think well, Ena dear, we will turn it over to these children now."

"I think it would be a capital idea. I fancy Puggy is too much like me to care to be long in that ill-ventilated nursery."

Christina did not know whether to be glad or sorry that she was to be introduced to the unknown room; but Puggy was enthusiastic. He turned to her father with a comic look of perplexity on his face.

"Please what am I to call you? Herbert, like Ena does?"

"No," his sister said sharply. "If we give you an inch you'll take an ell. You have no respect for anybody!"

Puggy smiled radiantly.

"It isn't my fault!" he said. "You made him my brother, I didn't; and Tina ought to call me uncle! May I call him the 'Squire' like the porters did at the station?"

"Yes," said his sister; "and mind you're a good boy, and don't lead Tina into scrapes."

"You won't be such a reader now you have some one to play with," said Mr. Maclahan, addressing his little daughter.

Christina looked round the room thoughtfully. "I like books best," she said, "and Dawn will play with Puggy."

"No," said her stepmother quickly. "Games are better than books for you, Tina, and I shall see that you have them. But Dawn can come over here every day if he chooses. I like that boy!"

The very next morning being bright and sunny, Christina was turned out into the garden to play with Puggy, and they had not been out a quarter of an hour before Dawn made his appearance. He came with bulging pockets, and produced for Puggy's edification first a white mouse, then a mechanical motor-car, and then a bag of nuts.

"I know all about you," he said, shaking back his curls. "Tina has told me, and I've come to look round with you. Do you like mice? This one is a darling! When he isn't in my pocket, I carry him on my head inside my cap. Dad brought me such a jolly motor-car. You can light it with real oil and it goes like the wind. Like to see it? Here are some nuts for you, Tina."

They were good friends at once, and so full of fun and spirits that Christina's laugh rang out again and again, yet before very long, the first sign of dissent between them arose.

"Tina, go into the house and fetch me my knife. I left it on the nursery table."

It was Puggy who spoke, and his tone was peremptory. He added, as Christina obediently walked away: "That's the good of girls to fetch and carry. They're good for nothing else."

He wanted to impress Dawn with his manliness, but Dawn knew better. He flushed up at once.

"Dad says only cannibals and savages make girls work for them, gentlemen never do; at least Englishmen don't!"

"You don't call yourself an Englishman, do you? I heard my sister say this morning that your father was a poor Irish artist. You're a Paddy, that's what you are!"

"A Paddy can be a gentleman!" retorted Dawn, springing up from the ground where he had been playing with Nibble his mouse, and pocketing the little creature in furious haste.

Puggy laughed scornfully.

"Paddies are always beggars. They live with pigs and chickens in bog cabins. I know all about them. We have two Paddies at my school. One tells lies, and the other never washes!"

"And what are you? A brag and a bully!"

Dawn's cheeks were scarlet, his eyes flashing fire. Puggy made a dash at him, and the next moment both boys were fighting. Jackets were tossed aside, sleeves tucked up, and if Puggy hit away with dogged persistence, Dawn perplexed him by his many sided onslaughts: dancing here and there, he was never in the same place for a second, and they were in the very thick of it when poor little Christina came back from her errand.

She was aghast at the sight. Both boys were bleeding, but neither gave way. After one despairing cry, she fled into the house, and burst in upon her father and stepmother, who were in the library.

"They're killing each other! Stop them! Oh, do come quick!"

Mrs. Maclahan laughed at the horror in her tones.

"Fighting, I suppose," she said. "I knew Puggy would be at it. Leave them alone, Tina. It's only the first go off! They'll be the better friends after it."

"But!" gasped Christina. "They're hurting each other! It's so wicked to fight, oh, do stop them!"

Her father rose and looked at his wife humorously.

"My dear, Christina has not your constitution, and I'm not fond of fights. Puggy must learn to control himself. Come along, Tina. Where are these young combatants?"

Christina led him into the garden breathlessly.

"Dawn has never fought any one before, I'm sure he hasn't, and oh! They're hurting each other so!"

When they arrived on the scene, the boys were rolling over on the ground; Dawn was undermost, but if his body was getting the worst of it, his spirit was unbroken; and when Mr. Maclahan's stern voice broke in upon them, and they both rose to their feet, he exclaimed, "We'll have another round!"

"That you won't! Puggy, is this the way you treat your visitor? Shake hands and be friends, and remember that I never allow fights in my house or grounds."

Neither of the boys was unwilling to make peace; but Christina stood beside them sobbing bitterly.

"Oh," she cried, "you're both so hurt! How could you hurt each other so!"

"Pooh!" said Puggy, marching off to the house with a black eye, a bleeding nose and bruised knuckles. "What sillies girls are to make such a fuss!"

Dawn looked up at Mr. Maclahan with his irrepressible twinkle. His face was damaged too, and a bump on his forehead stood out as big as a pigeon's egg.

"I've been fighting for my country," he said, "and for a girl. Dad will not scold me!"

Later on, when the boys had washed and anointed their wounds, Mrs. Maclahan came out to talk to them. She turned to her husband when he joined them, saying laughingly:

"Do you know this small trio represent the United Kingdom? Your small daughter is Scotch by birth, and may I say by her stern morality? Dawn is a veritable Paddy, and my pugnacious brother a thorough little John Bull. I hope they will do each other good."

From that day Mrs. Maclahan always alluded to the children as the "United Kingdom." They liked the idea and never lost sight of it in their games. After that first fight, Dawn and Puggy were the best of friends; Christina followed them everywhere, and though she admired Puggy's pluck and determination and his perseverance in carrying through anything he attempted, however hard it proved to be, her heart remained faithful to her sunny-tempered, easy-going boy friend, Dawn.

Puggy was soon introduced to Miss Bertha.

At first he was inclined to be indifferent to her.

"Old ladies are such fidgets!" he said.

But Dawn and Christina attacked him with such violence for saying a slighting word of their best friend that he collapsed, and after one visit to the tiny house and a tea such as all boys love, he confided to them that Miss Bertha was a "proper brick," and her house was "ripping."

"And how are things going, Childie," Miss Bertha asked Christina, just before she left her.

"Oh, I like Puggy," the little girl responded brightly. "I'm never dull now, we do such a lot of things; but Nurse is soon going away, that's the most dreadful thing!"

Miss Bertha smiled.

"Your 'dreadful things' are not so dreadful when they come. Can't you trust God about that?"

Christina looked wistful.

"I am trying not to be afraid. I keep saying my text over and over, and it does help me."

"Of course it does. I think you ought to be a very happy little girl."

And Christina went home thinking that she was.