Better than Play Part 4

"How about that sage I asked you to look for?" she began, but when her eye fell on the basket the rest of her scolding died away,--"Oh, so you've got some. Well, it isn't too late," she stammered, trying not to look foolish, and to speak graciously. It was Bella's turn to colour now.

She had completely forgotten all about her aunt and the supper.

"There wasn't a bit, Aunt Emma, and--and I forgot to come in and tell you, but I am going to plant some fresh things in the herb-bed. Tom's digging it over, and I am going to look after it. I asked Aunt Maggie to give me a root or two, and you can have some of the sage leaves before I plant it; but "--and she put down her basket, and began to grope in the bottom of it--"Aunt Maggie sent you a bottle of dried sage, and one of parsley.

She dried them herself. She said if you hadn't got any at any time, they might be useful,"; and she put the two little bottles into her aunt's hand with great joy, looking up at her to read her approval in her face.

But Miss Hender's face showed nothing of the sort. "I don't believe in such new-fangled notions," she said ungraciously; "here, give me a bit of that," breaking off a sprig of sage, "I want something that's fit to eat, and has got some goodness left in it!"

The light and pleasure died out of Bella's face. It always hurt her to hear her Aunt Maggie, or anything of Aunt Maggie's, spoken contemptuously of, and sudden anger at such petty spitefulness swelled up in her heart, for it was petty of her aunt, and it was spiteful, and Bella knew it.

Indeed, every one knew it, but no one dared say anything to the foolish woman, for fear of making matters worse.

In her pleasure, though, at the sight of the work Tom had done in her absence, Bella recovered herself, and this time she did not forget her aunt or the supper, but coming upon a few onions she gathered them into her basket and sent them in by Margery.

By the time Miss Hender came to the door again to call them all in to supper and bed, the sage bushes and thyme, the roots of mint and borage, were standing st.u.r.dily erect in the newly-turned bed, which was neatly outlined by large stones. Bella went to bed that night very tired and very happy, and dreamed of her mother.

While the children lay asleep, their father, coming home late and taking a turn round his neglected garden while he finished his pipe, drew up before the little herb-bed with almost a startled look on his face. He stood there minute after minute, gazing at the newly-turned earth and the st.u.r.dy little bushes showing out so clearly in the moonlight; the one neat and hopeful spot in the whole untidy waste, it seemed almost to speak reproachingly to him.

What his thoughts were no one knew, but he sighed deeply more than once, and when at last he moved away his pipe had gone out, though it was not empty.

CHAPTER IV.

SAGE BUSHES AND ROSE BUSHES.

The next morning William Hender was more than usually silent at breakfast, and he went off to his work without making any reference to what he had seen in the garden over-night. The children's thoughts, though, were full of it. As soon as they were dressed in the morning they ran out to see how everything looked, and how their new treasures had borne the night.

"Bella, I am going to have a bit of garden too," cried Tom, as soon as he saw her. "Father wouldn't mind, I'm sure. He doesn't seem to want it now, and it'll be better for me to have a little bit than to let it all be idle."

Tom had thought of it in the night, and could hardly wait until daylight to begin. And, of course, as soon as Charlie heard of the plan, he must do the same. "So shall I," he cried st.u.r.dily. "I shall have a garden, and grow strawberries and gooseberries, and--and all sorts of things.

Won't it be fine!"

"Margery wants a garden too. Margery wants to grow fings." Margery was tugging at Bella's skirt, and dancing with eagerness.

"What can Margery do?" asked Bella gently. She was always gentle and kind to her little sister. "Little girls like Margery can't dig up earth."

"Margery'll grow flowers," urged the little one eagerly, "Margery wants to grow flowers, woses and daisies, and pinks, and sweet peas, and--and snowdrops, and--oh, all sorts. Do give Margery a little garden, please, Bella, please. Only just a little tiny, weeny one."

The baby voice was so urgent that Bella could not say 'No'; nor had she any wish to. Anything that pleased Margery pleased her, and would, she knew, please her father. "Come along, then, and choose which bit you will have."

"I want it next to yours."

"Very well. I don't s'pose father will mind."

"Let me dig it over for her the first time," urged Tom, and he left the marking out of his own new bed to come and dig up Margery's.

Charlie and Bella and Margery herself collected large stones to outline it with, and by dinnertime there was a very neat and inviting-looking patch beside Bella's herb-bed.

"What'll you do for flowers to put in it, though?" laughed Charlie.

"Have you got any?"

"I've got the double daisy that Aunt Maggie gave me, and Chrissie Howard is going to bring me a 'sturtium in a pot. She said it was to put on the window-sill, but I shall put it in my garden."

"I can get you a marigold the next time I go past Carter's, on my way to Woodley. Billy Carter offered me one the other day; they're growing like weeds in their garden."

Margery danced with joy. "That'll be three flowers in my garden; I'll be able to pick some soon, won't I?"

That night William Hender came home earlier from his after-supper gossip at the 'Red Lion,' and, as usual, strolled about outside the house while he finished out his pipe. To-night his footsteps led him down his garden, and instinctively he went in search of the herb-bed again. Before he reached it he came upon fresh signs of digging and raking, and a larger patch of newly-turned earth, with the tools still lying beside it.

"This must be for one of the boys," he thought to himself, as he stooped to look closer. He admired the thoroughness of the work, or as much of it as he could see in the moonlight. On his way to the tool-shed with the tools he pa.s.sed Bella's herb-bed, and then the newly-turned piece beside it caught his eye and brought him to a standstill.

"That must be the little one's," he said to himself, as he looked down at it. "Of course she must have what the others have! I wonder what she's got planted in it?" He bent lower and lower, but in the uncertain light he could not distinguish what the little clump of green was, and at last he had to go down on his knee in the path and light a match.

"One double daisy, bless her heart! It's that daisy root she has set so much store on ever since Maggie Langley gave it to her. Bless her baby heart!" he said once more and very tenderly, and as he rose from the ground again he sighed heavily, and pa.s.sed his hand across his eyes more than once.

"I'd like to give her a s'prise," he thought to himself. "I'd dearly love to give her a s'prise, and I will too. It'll please her ever so much."

The thought of it pleased him ever so much too, and he went in and went to bed feeling in a happier mood than he had done for a long time. The mood was on him the next morning too, when he came down to breakfast.

"Where are the children?" he asked, as he went to the scullery for his heavy working boots.

"Oh, out in the garden. They are mad about the garden for the time," said Aunt Emma, with a laugh. "Bella seemed troubled 'cause there was nothing in it, so they're going to set matters right. She has planted a few herbs, and Charlie is making a strawberry bed. I don't know how long it'll last, I'm sure. They soon tires of most things."

"Ay, ay, children mostly do," was all that their father answered, but as soon as his boots were fastened he sauntered out into the garden in search of them.

"Breakfast's ready," called his sister after him. "Call the children, will you?"

"I'll go and fetch them," he said, and made his way to where he heard their voices.

When she caught sight of him Margery left the others and ran towards him.

"Daddy! daddy! come and look at my garden. Bella says she thinks my daisy has taken root! Now it'll soon have lots of daisies on it, won't it? and I'll give you a piece of root. Wouldn't you like that? Daddy, won't you have a garden too, and have flowers in it?"

"Why, all the garden is father's," cried Charlie, laughing at her, and with one accord they all turned and looked over the garden which was 'all father's,' and the untidiness, the look of neglect stamped upon everything, brought a sense of shame to the father's heart.

"But there aren't any flowers," sighed Margery.

Aunt Emma's voice was heard calling them in to breakfast.

"No, there ain't any now, but there will be," said her father gravely.

The words, though to Margery they sounded so simple, were a promise made to himself and to his dead wife to do better in the future than in the past. "By G.o.d's help!" he added, under his breath.

That evening, when he came home from work, he made his way at once out into the garden. He had brought home some bundles of young cabbage plants, and was going to make a bed for them.

"It's too late for most things, but I can do something with the ground,"

he said to himself, as he went to the tool-shed for his fork and shovel.

The children had gone into Woodley on an errand for their aunt, but might be back at any moment now. The four tidy little patches of ground made the rest of the garden look more wretchedly neglected than ever before; they were to him like four reproaches from his four neglected children.