CHAPTER XXIII.

A HINDRANCE.

"I THOUGHT—I hoped," sobbed poor Rose, "that—at last—my waiting time was over, and I—might be going to find my little Lester—if it were God's will."

"And the worst is," she added, when she was calmer and was sitting in Gertrude's bedroom, "the worst is, Gertrude, if there should be anything wrong, they will move away at once."

"Yes," said Gertrude, kneeling down by her and laying her head on her sister's shoulder, "but then—even supposing all that, if God has allowed us to get on this track, and it is the right one, He will certainly make a way out of what seems so dark and difficult now."

The words quieted Rose's aching heart.

"I was almost forgetting that in my disappointment! Dear Gertrude, you are a true comforter."

There was silence then, Rose reviewing all the strong consolation which she felt at the times when she remembered that her Father in heaven could work for her; while Gertrude realized, as never before, how precious were her dear ones at home, and felt it would certainly break her heart to see Rose go away and leave her behind.

A summons to dinner interrupted these thoughts.

"How truly kind Mrs. Shaddock is!" said Rose, as they went down. "She has asked me to stay the night here, or as long as I like. I never saw strangers so kind."

At dinner, the plans for the afternoon were freely discussed, for till Rose could communicate with her lawyer and ask his advice, she could do nothing, "but enjoy herself," as Randall told Daisy.

"I have to go to Highgate to make two or three calls," said Mrs. Shaddock, "and shall drive. If Mrs. Leigh will come with me—"

"And me, mother?" interrupted Randall.

"Very well—and you—the rest can walk and meet us there. Then you can show Mrs. Leigh the cemetery while I make my calls, and I will take her up at the lower gates at five o'clock. Miss Ashlyn, I know you like walking, do you not?"

This plan was hailed with applause by the children. For Mrs. Shaddock, if she took them a little jaunt in this way, was always very generous in her plans. And they knew that a pleasant tea at the best pastrycook's in Highgate would be in the programme, and that their mother would perhaps tell them to have a cab to bring them home.

So they set off in wild spirits, some time before their mother's carriage was ordered, and timed their arrival at the upper gates at Highgate Cemetery just as it came bowling along the road.

It stopped to put Mrs. Leigh down, and then Mrs. Shaddock beckoned Mollie to the window.

"Have a nice tea," she whispered, pressing some money into Mollie's hand, "and do not hurry. Mrs. Leigh says she would like to walk home with her sister. So either, of you girls, can come with me or walk home, which you like."

"Daisy can come then," said Mollie; "I would much rather stay with them."

The carriage drove on, and the party was left standing on the path.

"Which way are we to go?" asked Gertrude.

"I know!" exclaimed Randall. "Come along, Mrs. Leigh, I'll show you."

Mrs. Leigh, looking upon every little boy with the eyes of a bereaved mother, had longingly regarded little Randall as perhaps reminding her of her own six-year old child. But even if his bright colour and yellow hair might have done for little Lester's pink cheeks and golden curls, the defiant eyes and bold mien did not remind her of her tender darling, and no amount of imagination would turn Randall into a little Lester. She however took the child's hand, her fingers thrilling at the little fingers, and went forward with him in front, the rest following at leisure.

It was a glorious afternoon; the sunshine was perfect, and the fresh breeze and the autumn foliage were so entrancing that the children's spirits could hardly be kept within bounds in that quiet resting-place of the dead.

Several times, Gertrude had to warn them to be more moderate, till at last Randall said, "We always do just as we like here, Miss Ashlyn."

"Not if I am in charge," said Gertrude quietly.

"Let us go and look at what we call 'the catacombs,'" said Randall. "If you peep in, you can see the coffins all along!"

He went off with his sisters, and Gertrude and Rose were left alone.

"You have a handful with that little boy?" said Rose, looking after them.

"Yes," answered Gertrude, "he is my cross."

"Then, darling, he may yet be your 'crown'!" Rose answered tenderly.

Gertrude did not reply, but followed on the heels of her flock to see that they did not get into mischief.

By and by, they began to clamour for tea, and the party made their way out of the cemetery and wandered into the town, looking at shops as they went along, till Mollie exclaimed, "Miss Ashlyn, I 'must' buy that pattern; it is just what I have been wanting for ever so long."

Gertrude feared that it was getting late, and begged her to defer her purchase till after tea, but she would not hear of it. Then the shop was full, and they had to wait, so that when they finally reached the pastrycook's, the clock pointed to ten minutes to five.

"You will keep your mother waiting!" exclaimed Gertrude. "Daisy, dear, have something to eat, and let us hasten to meet her. I had no idea we should be so long in that shop."

The child took some cake and hurried back with Gertrude through the quiet cemetery, and arrived breathless, five minutes before the carriage came.

"What will they think has become of you?" asked Daisy, to whom the moments while they stood waiting seemed longer than they really were.

"I told them to have their tea and to go home without me if I did not come," said Gertrude.

And then the carriage came, and she left Daisy with her mother and retraced her steps back through the trees and flowers and graves.

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