Kitty Trenire Part 30

"You must be very thankful the holidays are come," he said solemnly to Miss Hammond. "I know, of course, how wearing Kitty is."

"I expect some of your masters feel they have cause for grat.i.tude to-day too," laughed Miss Hammond. "Now we must hurry if we want to find nice seats. I see your train is in."

Pamela and Dan looked at each other and smiled somewhat embarra.s.sedly; but Dan, who had been rather annoyed at first by Kitty's asking to bring home a friend with her, let his heart melt a little towards her, for he somehow felt that things were not going to be as bad as he had feared; and when they had found an empty compartment, and seemed likely to have it to themselves all the way, he graciously thawed still more, and his spirits rose to their usual height.

Alas, though, for plans. The train was on the point of starting, the whistle had gone, and the guard was just about to signal to the engine-driver, when there was a shout and a rush, and with a "Here you are, ma'am!" a porter laid hold of the handle of their door, flung it open, almost pushed two ladies in, threw in some bags and parcels after them, and banged the door to again. Off started the engine with a jerk which threw the ladies on to the seat opposite Kitty, who, with dismayed face and sinking spirits, had already recognized them as Lady Kitson and Lettice.

"She will be with us all the time, and everything is spoilt," she groaned inwardly. She was intensely disappointed. "Strangers would not have been so bad, or any one but those particular two."

Pamela was sitting in the corner opposite her, and Dan was in the corner at the other end of her seat. Lady Kitson and Lettice were at first too cross and too much shaken to notice any one; but presently, having recovered and arranged their packages, and settled down in their seats, they glanced about the compartment, and, with a look of not very pleased surprise, recognized their companions.

"Oh, how do you do, Dan?" said Lady Kitson, and smiled quite affably on him, but to Kitty she vouchsafed only the merest acknowledgment.

Lettice blushed hotly when she saw Kitty, and gave her one of her broad, meaning smiles.

"How do you do?" said Kitty very stiffly, and with no shadow of a smile.

"How is your poor little cousin, Dan?" said Lady Kitson presently.

"I hope she is growing strong again after her two serious illnesses?"

"Yes, thank you," said Dan. "She has gone away for change of air."

"Oh, indeed. I am glad she is able to. It was so alarming her being so ill. Oh, I heard about your shocking behaviour in leaving her behind to walk home by herself, on _such_ a night too, and in such a wild spot."

"I am afraid you haven't heard the right story, Lady Kitson," said Dan gravely, but with a flash of his eye.

Lady Kitson smiled a most aggravating little smile. "Oh, I think so,"

she said meaningly. Then, "You are not all going away with Anna, I hope," she remarked severely. "I am sure the poor child must require perfect peace and great care."

"No, Aunt Pike has gone with her. We are going home, and Kitty's friend is coming to stay with us," and Dan looked towards Pamela. "May I introduce Miss Pamela Peters--Lady Kitson, Miss Kitson," said Dan very formally, and growing very red.

Pamela smiled and bowed very prettily to Lady Kitson. Lady Kitson stared at Pamela, but gave her only the vaguest of acknowledgments.

Lettice nodded as though her neck were loose at the joint.

"You don't mean to say that while Mrs. Pike is away your poor father is going to have you all on his hands, and a stranger as well? Poor Dr.

Trenire. I really think it is too much for him, he looks so ill and worn already. He really needs a holiday more than do any of you."

"Father looks ill!" gasped Kitty. It was the first hint she had had of any such thing, and a sudden cold fear filled her heart. She forgot her dislike of Lady Kitson and Lettice, and the wrong they had done her.

"Is father really ill, Lady Kitson?" she asked anxiously, leaning towards her. "He has never mentioned it to me, nor has Aunt Pike."

"He is too good and unselfish to complain," said Lady Kitson coldly.

"You should use your own eyes, and not wait for him to _tell_ you he is ill. He has not actually told _me_ that he is, but I can see that he looks overworked and unwell, and certainly not fit to battle with a houseful of noisy, restless boys and girls."

"Of course we shouldn't be noisy if father was not well," said Kitty, with quiet dignity. She was feeling intensely uncomfortable on Pamela's account as well as her father's. Lady Kitson's remarks were not polite to their guest.

Lady Kitson sat back in her seat and unfolded a paper, as though to intimate that she had no more to say. Lettice crossed over and sat beside Kitty, evidently intending to talk to her, but Kitty could not bring herself to be friendly to her late school-fellow; besides which, she had Pamela to talk to, and there was this news about her father to fill her mind.

"He can't be very ill," said Pamela comfortingly, seeing Kitty's quiet distress. "Your aunt or Betty would have said something to you about it. While I am with you I can take the children out all day long if you like, so that you can keep the house quiet, and we won't be any trouble.

But of course you must send me home if it is not convenient for me to stay."

"But it will be," cried Kitty, trying to throw off her fears, and she crossed over and sat by Pamela.

When, though, they presently stopped at Gorlay Station, all her troubles vanished, for the time at any rate, for there on the platform stood her father, and Betty, and Tony, all apparently as well and jolly as could be, while old Prue and the carriage waited in the road outside.

"Father is here! Father is here to meet us and drive us home!" she cried joyfully, and, forgetting Pamela and Lady Kitson, and all the rugs and bags and everything, she was out on the platform and in his arms almost before the train had come to a stand-still.

Dan waited, and with well-feigned if not real patience helped out Lady Kitson and her possessions; then he too flew. "Come along!" he shouted to Pamela, forgetting his shyness. Pamela, though, with a wistful little smile on her lips, collected their belongings without much haste, and followed him, but very slowly.

For a moment she felt herself almost an intruder, but it was only for a moment; for Dr. Trenire, looking over the heads of Dan and Kitty, saw her, and guessing who she was, went at once and met her with such a cordial greeting that she felt herself one of them from that moment; and Kitty, remorseful for her forgetfulness, brought up Betty and Tony to be introduced. Then Pamela was made to sit up in the carriage beside the doctor, with Kitty and Tony on the back seat, while Dan and Betty mounted to the top of the omnibus, and off they started in the gayest of spirits. Prue, who could never endure to let any other horse pa.s.s her, insisted on racing the 'bus the whole way home, to the amus.e.m.e.nt of every one. Betty and Tony shrieked with delight, Kitty sat beaming with a happiness so great as to seem almost unreal, while Pamela sat quietly taking it all in, and revelling in it, yet with a touch of sadness as she realized for the first time in her life how very much she had missed.

"Oh, isn't it like old times," sighed Kitty happily, "to be together again, and by ourselves. Father, are you frightened by the thought of us all?"

Dr. Trenire laughed. "Not really frightened," he said. "You see, I can always send for your aunt. She a.s.sured me she would return at once if I found you all unmanageable."

"Oh," said Kitty gravely, "then we will promise not to be _quite_ unmanageable, but just bad enough."

At that moment Lady Kitson's carriage overtook them, and her ladys.h.i.+p looked out and smiled and bowed to the doctor as she pa.s.sed. "Don't you let them wear you out, doctor," she cried.

Kitty, with sudden recollection, leaned forward and studied her father's face earnestly--as much, at least, as she could see of it. "Father,"

she said anxiously, "Lady Kitson told us that you were not at all well.

Aren't you?"

She had unconsciously expected, or at least hoped for, a prompt and strong rea.s.surance; but her father did not answer for a moment, and then but half-heartedly. "I haven't been quite up to the mark," he said quietly, "but," looking round and seeing the anxiety on her face, "it is nothing to worry about, dear. I would have told you if it had been.

I am rather overworked and tired, that is all. It has been a very heavy winter of illness and anxiety. I shall be better now the spring has come, and I have you all home to liven me up. We must try and give Pamela a happy time, and you must take her to all your pet haunts."

But Dr. Trenire was not as well as he led them to believe; and though Kitty was not observant enough to notice such signs as a slower, heavier step, a want of energy in setting about his work, a flagging appet.i.te, she did notice that he was quieter and graver, and had not such spirits as of old.

Pamela became at once a favourite with every one. Even Jabez unbent, and was not always suspecting her of some mischief or other.

"What part of the county do 'ee come from, miss?" he asked when first he was introduced.

"I am afraid I don't belong to this county at all," said Pamela apologetically. "I am not a Cornishwoman."

Jabez looked disappointed, but he tried his best not to make her feel her sad position more than she could help. "Well now, that's a pity; but there, we can't always help ourselves, can we, miss? and 'tisn't for we to make 'ee feel it more'n you do a'ready. We've all on us got something to put up with. Whereabouts up along do 'ee come from, miss, if 'tisn't a rude question?"

"Devon," said Pamela, smiling at the old man. "It might be ever so much worse, mightn't it? Do give me some comfort, Jabez,"

"Well, yess, miss," he answered, willing to cheer her if he could.

"And maybe 'twas only an accident. Your parents 'd gone there to live, or something of that sort. Accidents will happen to the most deserving."

"Yes," sighed Pamela, "I feel it was a mistake, for directly I came here I felt at home, and I had never done so before."

"You'll be sorry to go back, miss."

"Sorry!" cried Pamela. "I can't bear to think of it. I never was so happy in my life, and never enjoyed my holidays before."

It was a very simple holiday too, but each day was full of happiness.

One by one the four introduced Pamela to their best-beloved haunts.

They made excursions to Wenmere Woods, to Helbarrow Tors, to the moors and the river. Very frequently, too, some of them went for drives with Dr. Trenire far out into the country, over wild moorland, or through beautiful valleys, and Pamela loved these drives as much as anything, and felt she could listen for hours while the doctor told her the story of some old cairn, or the legend of a holy well or wayside cross.