CHAPTER I.
A HOT DAY AT NO. 8.
A JULY sun was blazing down on a square in Bloomsbury, and seemed particularly to blaze on No. 8, with its wide windows and warm west aspect. At any rate the children thought so, who were listlessly playing in the drawing room. Since early morning the blinds had been down; since middle-day the sun-blinds had been unrolled; but nothing would keep out the burning rays, and the house seemed baked through and through.
"It is perfectly intolerable!" said a boy of fourteen, laying himself flat on the hearthrug, and stretching out both arms as far as they would go, with a long, low whistle, indicating extreme heat.
"If we only had something to look forward to!" said Ada, a girl of thirteen, who was pretending to read, but felt too hot to do anything in earnest.
"Yes," assented Arthur; "but the bother is we don't know that papa can get away; and it makes it ten times hotter to think we shall have to bear this for another six weeks."
"Perhaps the weather will change," suggested a quiet, pretty girl, who sat working in the darkest corner of the room.
"It won't, Nellie; you see if it does!" said Arthur scornfully. "Not if we're to stay in town!"
Nellie looked down for a moment at the face of her half-brother, as if she were going to speak; but she did not, and went on with her work.
"I cannot think how you can work, Nellie, when we are all dying of heat," said Ada, grumbling.
While Arthur raised his eyes to the gentle face, and said lazily, "Yes; why do you work, Nell?"
"I have tried both ways," said Nellie, "and I find I am less weary and miserable when I have something to do. And besides—"
"Well?" said Arthur lazily.
"I was thinking just now of what papa told us this morning, and that helped me to—"
"Bear the heat patiently? It didn't me, I can tell you, Nell. To be shut up in a top attic, with the sun next door to you, and not a breath of air; and to be ill of fever, and no fruit, and no cool water; and no chance of country when you were better; and no friends to care whether you lived or died; and no work and no comfort; and no end to it all? No; I don't see that thinking of that, helps one to feel less hot and cross!"
Arthur turned his flushed face, which was more sympathizing than he knew, towards his sister, and kicked his foot impatiently on the rug.
"But there is an end to it, after all, Arthur, in this case; because papa says that this poor creature has a home preparing which will be—"
Arthur looked enquiringly.
"Joy for evermore," said Nellie reverently.
Arthur moved uneasily. "I don't see the good of it," he said. "Do you suppose this woman is willing to wait to have all her good things there?"
"Papa said she was. She told him that if she had had everything comfortable, as she used in the old days, she should never have been driven by despair, as she has been, to find that the love of Christ is worth more than everything else in the world!"
Arthur turned his head restlessly again, and after a moment's pause said, hesitating, "Walter thinks like that, doesn't he?"
"Indeed he does," answered Nellie; "and oh, it is such a comfort when one does."
Softly as the conversation had been carried on, it had disturbed Ada's reading. She pushed her book away, almost peevishly.
"Ada, lie down on the sofa, and I will read you both to sleep," said Nellie, looking at her kindly.
"Oh, no!" said Ada. "I'm not sleepy, and I can't do anything to-day; I feel I don't know how. I shall go and see how they are getting on upstairs."
"Worse still," groaned Arthur. But he did not do more to dissuade her; and they heard her ascend the many stairs till she reached the nursery, where her footsteps paused, and then there was a shout of, "Oh, Ada, Ada! Have you come to play with us?"
Five little ones, of various ages, were scattered about the large nursery. There were three wide, low windows, looking out on an expanse of sky, circumscribed by endless roofs and chimneys, giving the children also a good view of the pretty garden in the square.
Near one of these windows sat the nurse, a pleasant-looking young woman, and on her lap, untroubled by the intense heat, sat a chubby baby of about a year old. Close by, and just under the low windowsill, a little couch was arranged, and on it a boy of eight years lay, lying so that his weary little face could just peep through the bottom pane of glass.
Hearing Ada's step, he turned abruptly round and looked eagerly at her. "Is mamma come home yet?" he asked.
"No," said Ada. "Oh, Mary, isn't it awfully hot? I could not settle to anything down in the drawing room, and so I came to see how nearly roasted you all are."
"Oh, we are not roasted at all, Ada," said a grave little girl looking towards the empty grate, "'cause there's no fire!"
The others laughed, and Ada declared it made her hotter to think of it.
"Ada, do tell us a story, or read to us," said a little girl of about five years, who was playing in a corner with her constant companion, Netta, and their two dolls.
"Yes, do," added Netta, running to a little shelf, and taking down a book and eagerly turning over the leaves.
"Well—if I am not too hot," said Ada, looking persuadable, and taking the rocking-chair which the children invitingly pushed forward.
"Near to me, please," said poor little Tom.
And they accordingly moved nearer his window; while the nurse put the baby on the ground and began to prepare for tea.
"Once upon a time," began Ada, closing the book and looking straight before her.
"Oh, yes, that's it!" said Isabel, settling herself to listen with perfect contentment, her arm round Netta's shoulder, and their respective dolls on their laps.
"Once upon a time there was a cat, a very respectable, fat, well-fed cat. Not one of the cats that walk up and down our back garden wall; not one of the cats that live on the roofs of the houses near us; oh, no! A real comfortable country cat, who had a real barn to mouse in, and a real hay-loft to sleep in, and real grass to eat if she felt sick."
"Do cats eat grass?" said Dolly, the grave child.
"Hush!" said the others.
"One day when the gardener went into a nice warm shed, he thought he heard a rustle, and searching about for the cause, he found pussy in an old box with three of the sweetest kittens you ever saw beside her.
"'Now that's a fine thing,' said the gardener roughly; 'however did you get in here! But one thing is, it ain't much trouble to turn you out again.'
"He was just going to do it when a bright thought struck him, 'If I let you stay,' he said crossly, 'you must catch all the mice that eat my seeds!'
"Whether puss would have promised I do not know; but the gardener probably knew she would be willing to try, and so, with another sour look, he gave the box a push, and went out and slammed the door.
"Pussy felt very relieved, though a little shaken in her spirits. 'My dear kitties,' she said, 'you have had a narrow escape. Who would have thought he would have come in! He has not been in here, to my knowledge, for at least a month; but then certainly I am not always at his heels. However, here we are, and now to make the best of it. He has shut the door, too, so we must catch mice or starve.' Pussy raised her eyes to the roof, and to her relief perceived that there were apertures under the rafters where she could creep out if her prison got too strait for her.
"Some little time passed on. Pussy found plenty of mice, but she had not been accustomed to such close confinement. And one evening as it was getting dusk, she whispered to her kitties, 'Now, my dears, if you'll be very still and not quarrel, I'll take a turn up the garden, I think.'
"'Oh, mother,' said No. 1, who was affectionate, 'shall you be sure to come back!'
"'Oh, mother,' said No. 2, who was greedy, 'shall you be able to bring us something nice!'
"'Oh, mother,' said No. 3, who was daring, 'how I wish I could go with you!'
"'Yes, yes, my dears,' said pussy hurriedly; 'but if you ask so many questions, I shall never get away.'
"With these words she proceeded to jump on a sack of potatoes that stood near, and from thence to a shelf under the ceiling, where she came to a pause. Her kittens watched her anxiously with beating hearts. Where would she get next? She went peeping about at the different holes under the rafters, but did not seem to make up her mind to go through any of them.
"Now you must know—what I am not sure that the kittens yet knew—that cats have long whiskers, which in a wonderful way are made to grow out just as far as the widest part of their bodies, and pussy could feel if these were touched, and if they were, she did not venture to push her body into the hole.
"She found one to suit her at last, and before her kittens could wink, she had safely jumped to the ground outside, and was scampering along the wide garden path.
"Left to themselves for the first time, the kittens felt quite proud for a minute or two, and then they began to think of mischief.
"'Do you think we could get out of this box?' said No.3, the bold one.
"'We might get something nice to eat,' said No. 2, the greedy one.
"'I am afraid mother would not like it,' said No. 1, the affectionate one.
"'Nonsense,' said No. 3; 'I mean to try.' After several efforts, and tumbling back into the box, No. 3 did balance himself on the edge, and did jump to the ground.
"'Now, No. 2, where are you?' he mewed in rather a doleful tone; for though a brave kitten, he felt he would like a companion if this led him into a scrape.
"'I am getting up as fast as I can,' said No. 2; 'but did it hurt you to jump?'
"'Always take care of yourself,' sneered No. 3; 'but come along, or mother will be back.'
"No. 2 managed to scramble up, and jump down, and they both set off in search of pleasure, leaving No. 1 alone; for they knew from her character that it was useless to try to persuade her.
"'I shall clamber up this sack of potatoes as mother did,' said No. 3.
"'I do not care about that at all,' said No. 2. 'I fancy there is something good on that table.'
"With these words, he cautiously climbed up an old hamper, and then up a slanting board, and so with great care on to the table, over which he went with increasing disappointment; for there was nothing there fit for a kitten to eat, though a mouse might have had a feast. At last, either from vexation or because he was getting nervous, he missed his footing, and being but young yet, he stumbled, and fell to the ground with a blow which nearly stupified him. He lay quite still, and as it was so dark, No. 3 did not perceive the disaster, and went on with his explorations till a sudden fear came over him, and he hastened back to the box.
"Do what he would, however, the sides were too steep for him to climb; and in despair, after many fruitless efforts, he lay down at last, cold, and tired, and sleepy, and began to cry.
"He would have given anything to be inside instead of outside the box, when he heard his mother climbing up the ivy which covered the shed. But wishing was of no use; and with melancholy interest, he heard her lightly spring to the table, and then to the ground very near him, and then softly make her way, as so many times before, into their comfortable home.
"When there, she made a great stir. Now pussy had come home in no mood 'to put up with nonsense,' as she said, and she proceeded to give the spoils of her expedition to No. 1, without a moment's hesitation. And while the little kitten tasted her first mouthful of a delicious piece of mutton-chop, her mother made many remarks as to the effects of obedience and disobedience, little dreaming that one at least of her darlings lay so near her in the sorest need of comfort. When the chop was finished between them—"
The children had been so absorbed in Ada's story that they had not heard the slight bustle of an arrival, and were extremely surprised at this moment to hear their mamma's step at the very door.
Amid exclamations and welcomes she came forward, and after a comprehensive glance at them all, from the baby upwards, she went straight to the little couch, and bent lovingly over her little invalid.
His arms clasped tightly round her neck, and he said ruefully, "You've been so long away, mamma!"
"So very long, darling? Only a few hours. And how is my little Tom, Mary? And baby?"
"Baby's all right ma'am," said Mary, holding him up for inspection with great pride; "but Master Tom has felt the heat a good deal, and your being away too."
The mother gave a little sigh, and then turned to the others, still, however, holding Tom's little frail fingers. "So you are all, I suppose, as hot as you can be, and much too hot for a piece of good news?"
"Oh, no, mamma! Is it—is it that we are really to go to South Bay?"
Their mother nodded, smiling; whereupon there were shouts and a great hubbub, and then the little ones found that Nellie and Arthur had come up to share in the rejoicings, and were looking as radiant as could be.
"Oh, it is too delightful!" said Ada, rapturously kissing her mamma over and over, till Nellie came behind and said gently,—
"Do you not think we had better all go down and leave the little ones to their tea?"
"Yes," said their mother. "They will all be glad to get to bed."
And so, with one kiss for her fat baby, she left the room, followed by Arthur, and Nellie, and Ada.
"Our tea is just ready, mamma," said Nellie, "and I will go and make it. I am sure you must be tired."
"I am, dear," answered Mrs. Arundel, "and I will soon be down."
Tea was spread this evening in the schoolroom at the back, which was as fresh and cool as the dining room was close and hot.
"What a good thought," said Mrs. Arundel with a sigh of relief as she took her seat at the tea-tray.
"Yes; that was Arthur," said Nellie. "He was saying, when we came down just now to put something away, how cool it would be, and so I told Simmons to bring it here. I thought you would not mind, mamma, even if you did not think it necessary."
"No, indeed, dear; and it is very pleasant."
The young people were too considerate to ask their tired mother any questions, though they were burning with curiosity as to the proposed trip, and as to how the change in their parents' plans had been brought about.
They had not, however, very long to wait; for after the first cup of tea had been swallowed, Mrs. Arundel began of her own accord.
"I have not told you, dears, a piece of the news which is quite a trial to me. We are to go; but your papa is afraid he will not be able to come at all this summer, or only for a few days at most."
"Oh, mamma!" they all exclaimed dolefully; and Mrs. Arundel did not speak for a minute. "Well," she said, trying to brighten up, "it is quite a trial, but we must all do the best we can. Perhaps, after all, papa may find he can get away, and it will be a great pleasure for you all to have such a nice change; and for dear little Tom."
"I am sorry," said Arthur; "for papa has been looking forward to it; and we were to have had some jolly boating too."
"It will be a disappointment to us all, my dear; but it does not seem as if it were possible just now; and papa will not have us wait, because of the heat."
"But he will have that to bear all alone," said Ada; "it's a wretched nuisance."
Mrs. Arundel looked up quickly. "Dear Ada, I do not quite like you to say 'nuisance;' when our Father points out a path for us, we must not call it that."
"Oh, mamma, I did not mean anything wrong, only it does seem so hard!"
"'We know that all things work together for good to them that love God,'" said her mother softly, as if speaking more to herself than them. And then she went up the long flights of stairs till she came into her own room over the drawing room, where were two little cots. One of these was empty, for baby was not in bed yet; but at the other one she knelt down, and laid her head op the pillow beside little Tom.
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