The Rectory Children Part 8

'Mr. Fairchild's,' repeated the little girl, 'he's my father; it's our shop. I'll show it you,' and a faint pink flush of excitement came into her pale face. These were the Rectory young ladies, she had been sure of it when she saw them in the bazaar. Fancy--wouldn't mother be surprised to see them coming in with her? And father, who had said she'd maybe never see them. Was that the French ma'amselle with them?--and Celestina glanced back at honest Jane Dodson, from 'grandmamma's' village, walking along in her usual rather depressed fas.h.i.+on--if so, French ma'amselles were very like English nurse-maids, thought her little observer.

'How funny!' said Biddy, quite interested. And Celestina began to like her better--she had been rather disappointed in Biddy at the bazaar. She was not pretty, and Celestina, though she scarcely knew it, was very much taken by beauty, and she had been rather, almost a little rude--at least Celestina knew that _she_ would have been told she was rude had she behaved as Bridget had done. But now she seemed so bright and natural--'She is quite a little girl,' thought Celestina; 'and perhaps if she's the youngest she's treated rather like a baby.' 'How _very_ funny!' Biddy repeated. 'I must run back and tell Alie and Rough. And have you a doll-house, little girl, and will you show it me? I've bought a chair too and a table. Perhaps if I saw your doll-house and teeny-weeny dolls I'd get to like to play with them too. We have a---- Oh, Alie,' as Alie, surprised at the length and apparent friendliness of the conversation proceeding between the two children, hastened up. 'Oh, Alie, _isn't_ it funny? She's his little girl. The note's for her house.'

Rosalys turned her soft blue eyes full on Celestina.

'How like an angel she is!' thought Celestina.

'Who's?' said Alie. 'Do you mean Mr. Fairchild's? Why don't you explain properly, Biddy?'

'Yes, that's it,' said the stranger child. 'I'm Celestina Fairchild.

I'll show you the shop.'

'Thank you,' said the elder girl. But Biddy would scarcely let her say the two words. Her eyes were very open, looking rounder than ever.

'_What_ a funny name!' she exclaimed. Biddy's collection of adjectives did not seem to be a very large one. 'Do say it again; oh, please do.'

'Biddy, I think you are rather rude,' said Alie severely. 'You wouldn't like any one to say your name was funny.'

'I didn't mean----' began Bridget as usual, but Celestina quietly interrupted.

'I don't mind; she's only a little girl. Don't be vexed with her,' she said to Alie with a sort of childish dignity that seemed to suit her. 'I think my name _is_ funny; mother called it me 'cos--, but p'raps we'd better go on. I've been out a good while and mother might be wondering what I was doing, and then if the letter for father matters much----'

'Yes,' said Alie; 'you're quite right; we'd better be quick.'

So the little party set off again up the street. Biddy and Celestina--for now that Biddy's interest was awakened in the stranger child she had no idea of giving her up to the others--in front; Rosalys and her brother following; Jane Dodson, discreet and resigned, bringing up the rear.

They had not far to walk, but Bridget's tongue made the most of its opportunities.

'Have you got a doll-house, then?' she inquired of Celestina; and as the little girl shook her head rather dolefully in reply, 'What do you get furniture' (Biddy called it 'fenniture') 'for, then? Is it for ornaments?'

'No; I've got a room, though not a doll-house,' Celestina replied. 'It once was a kitchen, but I played with it too much when I was little, and the things got spoilt. So father did it up for me with new paper like a parlour--a best parlour, you know. Not a parlour like you use every day.'

'I don't know what a parlour is,' said Biddy; 'we haven't got one at the Rectory, and we hadn't one in London either. We've only got a schoolroom, and a dining-room, and a droind-room, and a study for papa, and----'

'I forgot,' said Celestina. 'I remember mother told me that they don't call them parlours in big houses. It's a drawing-room I mean; only the dolls have their dinner in it, because I haven't got a dining-room. They haven't any bedroom either; but I put them to bed in a very nice little basket, with a handkerchief and cotton-wool. It's very comfortable.'

'Yes?' said Bridget, greatly interested, 'and what more? Tell me, please. It sounds so nice.'

'Sometimes,' Celestina went on--'sometimes I take them to the country--on the table, you know--and then I build them a house with books. It does very well if it's only a visit to the country, but it wouldn't do for a always house, 'cos it has to be cleared away for dinner.'

Biddy's mouth and eyes were wide open.

'We have dinner in the dining-room with papa and mamma,' she said; 'so we don't need to clear away off the schoolroom table except for tea.

That's in London. I don't know where we're to have tea here, when Miss Millet comes back. Don't you have dinner with your papa and mamma--when they have luncheon, you know?'

In her turn Celestina stared.

'I don't know how you mean. We all have dinner in the parlour,' she said, 'like--like everybody. But this is our shop,' she added, stopping and turning so as to face the others. 'If you please, miss,' she went on to Rosalys, 'this is father's shop. If you'll come in, he'll be there.'

Not a little surprised was Mr. Fairchild to see his daughter showing the way in to the three children, whom he rightly and at once guessed to be the new rector's family. Celestina looked quite composed; though so very quiet and silent a child, she was neither shy nor awkward. She was too little taken up with herself to have the foolish ideas which make so many children bashful and unready: it never entered her head that other people were either thinking of or looking at her. So she was free to notice what she could do and when she was wanted, and her simple kindly little heart was always pleased to render others a service, however small.

'Father,' she said in her soft voice; 'it is young Master Vane and the young ladies with a letter for you.'

Mr. Fairchild came forward, out from behind the counter. He made a little bow to Rosalys, who was the foremost of the group, and a little smile brightened his thin face as his eyes rested on hers. Every one was attracted by Alie, and her voice was particularly gentle as she spoke to Mr. Fairchild, for the first thought that darted through her mind was, 'How very ill he looks, poor man--much worse than papa.'

'It is a letter for you, Mr. Fairchild,' she said. 'Mr. Redding asked my brother to give it to you. It is from pa--from Mr. Vane.'

'But I don't know if there is any answer,' said Rough. 'Redding didn't say. Please see, will you?'

Rosalys and Randolph and Jane in the doorway stood waiting while he read. But Biddy's eyes were hard at work. She caught Celestina as she was disappearing through an inner door.

'Oh, please,' she said, 'don't go away. Won't you show me your dolls?

And oh, please, what _is_ that funny little window up there in the wall?

I would so like to look through it.'

CHAPTER VI

THE WINDOW IN THE WALL

'Will you step into my parlour?'

_The Spider and the Fly._

Celestina hesitated. She was anxious to be friendly to Bridget, and she had a strong instinct of hospitality, but the little girl rather took away her breath. Just at that moment, luckily, the door between the shop and the parlour--a door in the corner behind the counter--opened, just a little, enough to admit Mrs. Fairchild, who came in quietly. She had heard voices in the shop, and thought she was probably needed there, though at this time of the morning, especially when Celestina was out, she had to be sometimes in the kitchen.

'Celestina,' she exclaimed, surprised and not quite sure if she should be pleased, 'what are you doing? You should have come in at once. I have been expecting you.'

Then her eyes fell on the three--or four--three and a half, one might say, to be very correct--strangers in the shop, for Jane was still wavering on the doorstep, one foot on the pavement outside and one inside.

'Won't you come in?' said Mrs. Fairchild to her civilly; 'it is a cold morning--and then I could shut the door.'

Jane moved inwards, though without speaking, and Rough darted forward and shut the door carefully.

'Thank you, sir,' said Mrs. Fairchild, with a little smile that lighted up her whole face. She gave a half unconscious glance at her delicate-looking husband, which explained her anxiety. Bridget drew near her and looked up in her face. Somehow since Mrs. Fairchild had come in every one seemed more friendly and at ease.

'Are you Ce--Cel--the little-girl-in-the-bazaar's mamma?' asked Biddy.

Mrs. Fairchild smiled again.

'Yes,' she said, touching Celestina on the shoulder, 'I am _her_ mother.

Did you see her at the bazaar?'

'She was buying chairs, and that made me buy one too,' replied Biddy rather vaguely.

'The young ladies met me after that in the street and asked me the way here. I showed them. That was why I was in the shop,' explained Celestina, on whose brow a little wrinkle of uneasiness had remained till she could tell her mother the reason of her moment's lingering.