Better than Play Part 12

It was already full of pots of mignonette seeds and fairy-roses, cyclamen and lilies of the valley, which she was hoping to bring on to sell through the winter, when flowers would be scarce.

For once Tom stood by, and paid no heed. He was absorbed in a new idea that had come to him. "Bella," he said at last, "do you know what I've a good mind to do?"

Bella could see from his face that, whatever it was, he was pleased and excited about it, so she was prepared to back him up. "What is it?

Do tell!"

"I've a good mind to ask old Mrs. Wintle to let us have her donkey and cart on Sat.u.r.day; then we could carry in potatoes and vegetables enough to make it worth while."

"Wouldn't she charge a lot?" asked Bella doubtfully. "Doesn't she ask half-a-crown a day and his food? That would be a lot out of what we make, and Aunt Emma would grumble like anything!"

"Of course it would cost something, but see what a lot more stuff we could take in to sell. I believe it would pay, and I've a good mind to chance it. I tell you what I'll do. I'll pay for the donkey for a week or two, out of what I've saved, and then we shall see if it's worth it or not, and if it isn't, well, Aunt Emma won't be any the worse off."

"But you will!"

"I am going to risk it; I'd rather spend my money on that than anything.

I believe it'll answer. Anyway, we shan't know till we try. Think of the time we shall save too! We needn't start so early by an hour or two, and we shall get back in time to do a bit of work out here too."

"That would be fine," agreed Bella, "and we shouldn't be so dreadfully tired either." The long walk had begun to be rather a trial to her.

"Will you tell Aunt Emma about it, Tom? She takes things better from you."

To the surprise of both of them, Miss Hender 'took the news' very well indeed, and fell in with the plan at once instead of opposing it.

"You'll save ever so much in shoe leather," she said, "and any amount of time and trouble. And look here," holding out her ap.r.o.n, in which were a number of large brown eggs, "couldn't you carry in some of these and sell them? There's some to go to your father, but there's a-plenty more, and they're fine ones too."

Bella's face brightened. "Why, of course we could! However didn't we think of it before? It'll be fine, Aunt Emma," and she longed to skip for joy.

"If we'd had them, you couldn't have carried them, you'd got load enough already; but with the donkey-cart it'll be different."

When Sat.u.r.day came, and they began to load up the cart, the wisdom of Tom's plan was only too plain. There were baskets of flowers and herbs, one of eggs, and one of pears, a large hamper of apples, a sack of potatoes, and hampers of turnips and carrots, beets, and onions, leeks, and parsnips; not to mention a box of celery and one of tomatoes.

Bella laughed delightedly. "We shall be taking fowls and ducks too, some day, perhaps!"

"And why not?" asked Tom.

"Yes, why not?" said Miss Hender quickly. "What a good thing! Why didn't you think of it before, Bella? I could see to all that, and I could make pretty nearly as much by them as all the fruit and flowers put together.

If I'd only thought of it,"--growing more and more enthusiastic--"I might have got a pair of fowls ready to send in to-day. Never mind, I'll be ready another time!" And from that chance word of Bella's began what they later on laughingly called 'Aunt Emma's Poultry Farm.'

Charlie and Margery watched the proceedings that Sat.u.r.day morning with eyes full of envy and longing. They wanted so much to go too, and it did seem hard to stay behind for the whole long, dull day.

"You must come to meet us," whispered Bella, "and you shall have a drive home. We shan't be any earlier, for we're going to the hospital to see father; then, if he's better, you and Charlie are to come in with us next week to see him; Aunt Emma says so."

Bella in her pink frock, and Tom in his holland coat, clambered up into the cart, and while Tom gathered up the reins Bella picked up the two most precious of the baskets, and away they started.

Once clear of the lane, and out on the level high road, Rocket broke into a smart little trot, and carried them along in fine style. To Bella it seemed the very height of luxury and enjoyment to be getting over the ground so quickly, and with no heavy load to carry. The first milestone seemed to be reached in no time, but when they came to it Bella had to turn away her head and blink hard, to keep the tears out of her eyes, so vividly did the sight of it bring back the happy meetings there, and the thought that not for weeks and weeks, if ever, would they all meet there again.

It was a good thing for them both that they were not walking that day, for the drive, the donkey, and the excitement of the new venture, helped to lift their thoughts off their trouble, and helped them through.

Some of the people they met stared wonderingly at the little pair of market-gardeners in the gay green cart. Some smiled and nodded encouragingly, others called out cheerily, "h.e.l.lo, young market-gardeners, you're getting on! That's good, stick to it, and you'll do yet!"

By this time the regular market-folk who arrived early in the day had come to know the two children who were so regular and so punctual.

They both felt very pleased with the attention they received, but they felt very self-conscious indeed when they drew up at the house by the church, where their first customer, Mrs. Watson, lived, and even more so when they went on to Mrs. Adamson, whose little invalid daughter Joan had bought flowers of them every week since that first meeting.

Joan grew quite excited when she saw the donkey and cart, but when she heard of the accident, and the trouble they were all in, she wept for sympathy.

"Oh, mummy," she cried, "we must do something to help!" and Mrs. Adamson, who had been listening intently to the tale of trouble, decided that one of the best ways of helping would be by buying as much as she could of what they brought in to sell each week. So of eggs and vegetables, fruit and flowers, she laid in quite a store, and the children went on their way in high spirits. Just before they left, Joan called her mother aside for a whispered consultation.

"Mummy, darling, do let me send the poor man one of my bottles of eau-de-Cologne. If his head aches, he will be so glad of it; shall I?"

"Certainly, darling, and when he is better we will send him some magazines. Shall we?"

In a state of great delight Joan handed over the eau-de-Cologne to Bella.

"But we will have the cork drawn first, for he might be glad to use it at once, and I'll leave the dear little corkscrew in. He'll like to have that, won't he?"

"Oh yes, miss," said Bella gratefully; "he's never seen one like that before. Thank you, miss, I'll tell him you sent it."

Then Joan had to be carried to the window to look at Rocket and the cart, and see Tom and Bella start on again. "Do you think you will ever sell all you've got there?" she asked, with wondering eyes.

"Yes, I think so. I hope so, miss. I've got a good many regular customers now, and p'raps we shall get some more. We're going to try it for a week or two, anyway, just to see."

Tom's courage was certainly rewarded, for long before the hour when visiting-time at the hospital began, they had sold out all they had brought, and were able to take good, patient Rocket to the stable and his dinner. They had not counted up their takings yet, but Bella felt sure that there was close on a sovereign in her purse; and they had besides an order for half a sack of potatoes, a bushel of cooking apples, and a pair of fowls. They scarcely knew what to do, they were so delighted.

"Oh, Tom, won't father be glad!" Bella kept on saying; "and won't he be surprised when he hears about Rocket! He'll think we are getting on fine, and won't he be pleased about it!"

"It'll help to get him better, I reckon," said Tom, with quiet delight.

Tom both felt and acted as though he were ten years older than when he was in Norton, a week ago. The shock and the responsibility, acting on his thoughtful, steady nature, had changed him from a boy to a man. Not a sad or too serious man, yet one who felt that he had to act now, not to play; to think out what was for the best, and to do it, and not let things slide, or take their chance, and he took up his responsibilities with a brave and cheerful spirit. There was no self-pity about Tom; it never entered his head to think he was ill-used or hard-worked.

"'Tisn't any hards.h.i.+p, ma'am," he said brightly, when Mrs. Adamson condoled with them on all they had to do, now they were left alone.

"I like work better than play. You feel then that you'm doing something.

I get tired of play. I like a game of cricket or football, but I mean the other sort of play."

Bella, who remembered only too well the dull, miserable years when Aunt Emma did not like her to play, and would not let her work, agreed with Tom heartily. "Yes, I like work better than play too," she said emphatically.

"I think it's fine to have a lot to do. There isn't anything makes you so miserable as doing nothing."

From two to four were the visitors' hours at the hospital, and long before that hour had struck Tom and Bella were waiting anxiously for the doors of the hospital to open. There was quite a little crowd of people besides themselves, and every one had some little luxury they were taking to the poor invalids inside. Tom and Bella had fresh eggs and flowers, and, best of all, the good news of their success that day. They had actually earned a whole sovereign and threepence!

To poor William Hender this was good news indeed, for it meant that his dear ones were not in want--at any rate for the present--and the knowledge lifted a heavy load from his mind. "Thank G.o.d for sending me such help in my trouble," he murmured gratefully. "I am blessed with good children, and no mistake!"

But Bella's happiness had almost vanished at the sight of the poor pale face on the pillow, and the weak hands that he could scarcely raise.

She had, somehow, expected to see her father much better and more like himself, but he looked so dreadfully, dreadfully ill and altered that an awful fear swept over her and gripped her with an icy clutch.

In her anxiety she forgot her shyness, and went boldly up to one of the nurses, who was standing a little way off. "Do you think father is really better, miss?" she asked timidly, while every nerve quivered with dread of the answer.

"He is getting on," the nurse answered cautiously. "It will be a long time before he will be well, of course. You mustn't expect to see much difference for a good while yet."

"You do think he will get well? You don't think he is--is----" Bella could not finish her question, her lips quivered so. The nurse, who was not supposed to talk about the patients to their friends, could not refuse those frightened pleading eyes.

"Oh no, no! you mustn't be thinking of such a thing. He is going to get well presently, and you will have him home for Christmas. What you have to do is to keep his spirits up, and cheer him all you can, and the doctor will cure him, and we will take care of him and send him home in time to eat his Christmas dinner."

Bella smiled through her tears, and with the worst fear lifted from her heart she turned to her father again. Till four o'clock they sat by him and talked, and he listened contentedly. He was anxious to hear every little detail of all they had been doing at home. He was too weak to talk much, but he joined in now and then, and laughed a lot at the funny things they told him. He was very much pleased when he heard about Rocket.