Anxious Audrey Part 17

"Now," he said, as pleased almost as Debby and Tom themselves could be, "I'll pop my gentleman into his basket while I hurry on to tell the news, and relieve those poor little aching hearts."

Surprise at his presence, or awe of his rugged face and grey hairs were entirely swallowed up in the joy his news brought them. To the three Carlyle children he was a complete stranger, but they took him to their hearts then and there.

"We will give you the very, very nicest tea we can possibly give you,"

cried Faith enthusiastically, when each in turn and all together had poured out their thanks. "I hope you are longing for some, for we want to give you something that you want very much."

"I did not know I was," laughed the old gentleman, "but now you have mentioned it I find it is _the_ one thing I want."

Tom and Debby ran on ahead to rejoice over their newly-recovered darling, the rest trooped back more slowly. Audrey seeing them coming got up and began to bustle around. She felt a little ashamed of herself, and very anxious to wipe out the not very pleasing impression she felt sure she had made on their visitor. She got out the table cloth and spread it on the ground.

"First of all," suggested Faith, "we had better build up the fire and put the kettle on. It takes rather long sometimes."

"I'll get some sticks," volunteered Keith. "Come along, Tom, we'll provide the wood; that shall be our job."

"I want to go too," cried Debby, "but the kittens are asleep, and I can't possibly disturb them, can I?"

"Run along," said Mr. Vivian kindly, "I will mind your kittens for you, they know me, and we will be as happy as kings together."

"I wish," Audrey remarked, "that we had some methylated spirits and a stove. It is ever so much quicker and not nearly so messy."

"But it isn't as much fun," consoled Irene, "and the tea tastes so nice when the water is boiled over sticks and furze. Don't you think so?"

"I don't know. I don't see that it can make any difference. But I think it is a dreadful bother trying to get enough for everyone. The fire always goes out or the----"

"Audrey," called out Faith, "where is the kettle? Daphne and I will go to the cottage to get it filled."

"I haven't the kettle," said Audrey. "I haven't seen it. Isn't it in the basket over by you? Don't say you have come without it?"

"I am afraid we have," said Faith reluctantly, after looking in vain in all directions. "What can we do? Do you think the woman at the cottage would lend us one?"

"If she did she would be sure to say we had damaged it. If it sprang a leak at the end of six months she would be sure to think it was our fault." Poor Audrey felt and looked thoroughly vexed. Everything so far that day had gone wrong, and she had wanted it to be so different.

What she could not see was that nothing had gone wrong seriously, and a little good temper and a sense of humour could not only have carried her through triumphantly, but have turned most of the predicaments to fun.

Keith came up with a bundle of sticks in his arms and heard the tale of woe. "Oh, that's nothing," he said with a promptness that was most consoling. "I will ask grandfather to lend me Peter and we'll trot back and get a kettle in a flash."

But Mr. Vivian preferred to go himself. "And I'll take young Tom with me," he said. "He can run in and explain to the maid and get the kettle in half the time Keith or I could. We should have to explain who we were and by what right we came and demanded the family tea-kettle."

Audrey demurred, blus.h.i.+ng at the mere idea, and she blushed again when, Peter and his two riders returning, she saw Mr. Vivian waving the old kettle triumphantly.

"Oh," she cried impatiently, "I did think Mary would have had the sense to wrap it up!"

"I wouldn't let her. I told her not to do anything more than tie a piece of paper round its s.m.u.tty sides. Now, while we are mounted, don't you think it would be a good plan for us to ride over to the cottage and get the kettle filled? I like to be useful," as all protested against his taking this trouble. "You see, I feel that if I do something for it I shall be able to ask boldly for a second cup of tea." And the old gentleman rode away laughing, as full of enjoyment as any of them.

Now at last things promised to go right. In a very short time the kettle, filled with water, was hanging over a blazing fire of sticks and furze, and Mr. Vivian had ridden away to borrow a pitcherful of water in case the kettle required to be filled again, as it almost certainly would.

A new site was chosen for the tea-table and the cloth was spread.

Daphne brought sprigs of heather and gra.s.ses and green ferns to decorate the table with. Keith, with Tom helping him, worked like a Trojan at stoking the fire, and Audrey was glad that someone else undertook that s.m.u.tty, eye-smarting business, or her hands and her dress would have been as grubby as theirs probably, before she had done.

Irene was taking cups and saucers, plates and dishes from Faith as she unpacked them, and arranging them on the table.

"But you are the guests," said Audrey presently, "you mustn't bother about helping. Faith and I ought to do all that."

"Oh, but I love to. Do you mind?" Irene looked round, a swift delicate colour mounting to her cheeks.

"Mind!" Audrey knew as well as possible that she could never have arranged such a dainty, alluring-looking tea table, as was every minute growing in attractiveness before her eyes. She knew how it should look when done, but Irene knew how to do it. Audrey did think though that she would like to be of some use. She was feeling rather snubbed and very much out of things.

Irene saw it and drew back a little. "I am afraid--I did not mean to--to be bossy," she added, colouring again more warmly. "I only wanted to help," and she pushed towards Audrey the box of cakes she had been unpacking. "I suppose it comes from being the eldest. Everyone seems to expect the eldest to do things, and--and so I have got into the way of doing them as a matter of course. I am awfully sorry, Audrey, it was a great cheek of me."

But Audrey scarcely heard what she was saying, for she was thinking that no one went to her to have things done for them. No one seemed to expect anything of her.

"I suppose they think I am not able--but, at any rate, I can take cakes out of a box and arrange them on a plate." And while trying her hardest to make the dishes look as attractive as possible she grew less unhappy and more in tune with everything.

"Oh, how pretty," said Faith, coming to her with the teapot in one hand and a packet of tea in the other. "Audrey, will you measure out the tea.

I don't know a bit how much to put in for such a lot of us."

Here was something expected of her, at any rate. She should have felt elated at being again appealed to, but she only looked vaguely from Faith to Irene and back again. "Neither do I," she confessed at last.

Irene counted heads on her fingers. "Nine," she reckoned, "two real kiddies, two ex-kiddies,"--fixing her eyes on Keith and Daphne.

Daphne threw a tuft of heather at her, "one--two--three----"

"Flappers," interrupted Keith derisively.

"Grown-ups," finished Irene, ignoring him, "and two real grown-ups who like their tea strong. I should think half-a-dozen teaspoonsful would do.

If we haven't tea enough to go round, Keith and Daphne shall drink hot water; it will be so good for their complexion."

"What grat.i.tude! after we have slaved so over the fire and boiling the kettle and all," cried Keith indignantly.

"What is the 'all'? Don't say that you have boiled anything more than the water."

But the discussion was put an end to by the kettle, which boiled over at that moment, and the tea was made as Irene had decreed.

Then at last the whole party gathered round the table; the kittens, revived by milk, played happily together on the gra.s.s. Nibbler sulked in his basket and took sly bites at a handful of dandelion leaves when he thought that no one was noticing him; but everyone else was happy, hungry, and content. The fresh air gave them all such appet.i.tes that everything they had to eat and drink seemed to be doubly good; the same beautiful air and the suns.h.i.+ne sent their spirits soaring, and set everyone in the mood to laugh and joke. All stiffness and shyness had so completely vanished that the visitors already seemed like old friends rather than new ones; and Audrey was just thinking how very happy life might be, even at home in Moor End, when, in a pause in the chatter, a sharp pitiful cry floated across the stillness to them.

Debby was on her feet in a moment. "It is one of the kittens," she cried anxiously. "Oh, what has happened? I am sure one is hurt."

Everyone's eyes searched the ground around them. Snowdrop was seen at once, and n.i.g.g.e.r was close by. Suddenly Keith started to run, Debby tore after him, the same fear possessing them both. A little way off Peter stood cropping the gra.s.s, a few paces behind him Rudolph lay on the turf bleeding and very still--his inquisitiveness had led him too far at last.

In inspecting Peter's hoofs he had got under one and so ended his curiosity for ever.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'TEA ON THE MOORS.']

Keith reached him first, and by the time poor, panting, white-faced Debby drew near he had covered the little lifeless body with his handkerchief.

"He is dead," he said gently, going to meet her and lead her away.

"Poor little chap--he must have been killed at once. Come away, Debby dear, don't look at him." And he stood with his arm around her shaking shoulders while her first anguished sobs broke from her.

"Don't cry so, Debby," he urged her; consoling her more by his tone than his words, "be brave, old girl. He--he--poor little chap--he--won't suffer any more. He--won't have to be given away now." Keith found it very hard to find anything comforting to say. In fact, he would have been glad to have been somewhere quite alone, that he might have shed a few tears un.o.bserved, himself. "Anyhow, he enjoyed his life--as long--as it lasted. You made him awfully happy."

"But he had only had six weeks and two days," sobbed Debby, "and I loved him best of all, he was so ugly, and people laughed at him. Oh, why couldn't he have stayed where I put him! Oh, Rudolph, you dear naughty darling, I loved you so."

Keith clasped her closer, "Never mind, old girl; don't cry, Debby."

Debby's face was bowed on his other arm. Suddenly she stretched out a groping arm. "Handkerchief please, I--I lost mine."