A happy woman
and two large rooms above. The farmer's wife said she could let a
smaller room as well, if desired, and Sara took this. The baby's nurse
was a staid elderly woman, and the other maid she meant to take with
her was Lacy, who had implored not to be left behind.
"I am quite a good hand at cooking, and I would gladly be a one-handed
general if only you'll keep me with you. I've endured a lot since you
went away, ma'am. But I've always said to myself, 'Miss Sara will come
back one day, and then she'll want to see me here.' And you've come
now, and you'll let me stay with you for the rest of your days I'm
hoping!"
"Oh, Lacy, you dear old thing!" said Sara, smiling through sudden
tears. "Of course you shall come, and you and I will study cooking
together. I have told nurse she must be willing to take her meals in
the kitchen with you. She and baby will have a big room upstairs to
themselves, and you must be content with a small room if you come."
"I'm content with anything," said Lacy, in a satisfied tone.
And Sara was delighted at the thought of having her, for she knew what
a treasure she would prove.
It was the middle of July when they journeyed down to Devon, and Sara
never forgot that first summer evening when they arrived at the farm.
An old-fashioned roomy jingle met them at the station, driven by a very
self-possessed small boy, who informed Sara he was Master Shiplake, and
had left school for good the week before.
"So I'm helpin' feyther to the farm, an' the hay is out, an' one thing
an' another will kep me busy till winter, an' then I means to have a
try at a writin' clerk's place in Lunnon. I thought as ye were strange
to Rattlecombe, I'd best meet ye instead of old Sam."
He talked most of the way; the old white pony stepped very leisurely
up the hill. Sara with nurse and baby were inside the jingle. Lacy
preferred to walk. A station luggage-cart brought up the rear.
They passed along a road arched over with leafy elms; they saw some
red cows sauntering on in front going home to be milked. And then they
turned in at a white gate, and the old yellow cob-walled farmhouse
with its thatched roof lay before them. It was a quite drowsy time of
day, an old sheep dog lay outside the porch door fast asleep. A row
of beehives was along the garden path next the old cob garden wall, a
border of bright hollyhocks, sunflowers, and Madonna lilies were behind
them.
There were striped holland blinds outside the windows, and a little
breeze was flapping them to and fro. In the orchard beyond the garden
were some turkeys, and fowls strutting up and down; the humming of the
bees hovering over the hollyhocks, the clucking of the hens and turkeys
were the only sounds to disturb the stillness that reigned. Then the
sheep dog suddenly raised his head and barked, and in an instant there
was life and bustle around them.
Mrs. Shiplake, a good-looking, matronly woman, came to the door. Then
she called a ruddy-checked servant, and the farmer himself came down to
the gate to welcome them.
When Sara got into her sitting-room, she found an appetizing tea
already prepared, and there was a delicious smell of hot baked bread in
the house. She turned to Lacy with shining eyes.
"Oh, Lacy, isn't this better than London? Look at this nosegay of
flowers on the table. Did you ever smell anything sweeter than these
old-fashioned cabbage roses?"
And Lacy smiled, as well pleased as her mistress.
"I've just slipped into the kitchen, ma'am, and had a squint at the
stove. Quite a nice little oven, and plenty of crockery and cupboards.
I think we shall settle in beautiful!"
And later on, when Sara wandered out by herself in the dusky orchard
and heard the owls begin to hoot, and the frogs croak in the stream
beyond, she lifted up her face to the starlit heavens, and thanked God
for having brought her to such a peaceful home.
CHAPTER II
UNWELCOME NEWS
THE first day at the farm was one of keen enjoyment to Sara. She was
very busy adjusting and arranging things, so as to make every one
comfortable in the simple life to which they had come. Mrs. Shiplake
was a keen brisk worker, and had enough to do in her part of the farm
to keep her busy there all the day. Lacy settled down into her kitchen
with great content. Nurse was the only one who had to be kept in a good
temper, for she was a Londoner, and missed her town comforts.
Little Oliver was out all day long in his pram or rolling on his
crawling rug. He was a fair bonny boy, sweet-tempered and full of
spirits. Sara grew fonder of him day by day; and he now welcomed her
with a smile and crow of recognition, holding out his dimpled arms to
be taken up whenever he saw her.
One day of peace Sara had. And then upon the second morning after their
arrival, she got a letter from Mrs. Laird.
"MY DEAREST SARA,
"The blow has fallen, and my fears have been justified. Graham came
to me this morning, and told me that he had married Eva quietly in a
church in Chester, where she has been staying for the last two months.
I asked him why he had concealed his engagement. Eva, of course, had
begged him to do so, fearing that I might be upset. I won't write the
bitterness that is in my heart. You will feel for me, but I am going to
pray hard for the grace that I shall need when I have to receive her
as my daughter-in-law. Oh, Sara! I won't reproach you, but it is the
losing you that has made him reckless. And Eva has tightened her hold
of him, and has never let him go, till she has gained her object. And
my son is not happy. There is a harassed look on his face.
"One thing I am determined upon, and that is to find myself a little
house, where I can live alone. I have told him to-day, and he is vexed
with me, but I mean to be quite firm. He does not like this house and
Eva wants to live in the best part of the town, so perhaps till Ina
marries, she and I will stay on where we are."
There was a break in the letter here. Then an addition came—
"She has come over this afternoon. Very sweet and gentle, but that she
always is. She does not look at all well; she is very thin, and looks
ten years older than when I saw her before. I was as kind as I could
be, and I am thankful to say she did not stay long. Her little girl is
still at a boarding-school. She begged me to forgive the secrecy of
their engagement and wedding. 'I wanted to be married very quietly,'
she said; 'I have been worried and depressed lately, but I mean to
take a new lease of life now. Graham and I have planned out lots of
delightful things together.' 'Your husband is a very busy man,' I said;
'this new estate and all the business connected with it entails a lot
of arduous work.' And then she laughed.
"'I shall make him play!' she said. And I could not help smiling,
though I was nearer tears. Graham is not a man who knows how to take
life lightly, and recreation is always difficult to him. Well, my dear
Sara, this is my news. My heart seems stunned with it, but I have
courage now to face troubles which I could never have faced before.
"Write and tell me all you are doing. I am very angry with your brother
for going off and leaving you all alone. How I wish I could see you
with your little nephew in your arms! Will you not be photographed and
send me a print? I should love to have one of you.
"Yours always lovingly,
"RACHAEL LAIRD."
Sara sat reading this letter at her breakfast. It was placed for her
on a round table by the window, where she could look out upon the rich
meadowland below her, and feel the sweet scented air fan her cheeks as
it came through the open window. She had been rejoicing in this sunny
summer's morning a moment or two before. Now as she gazed out with
shadowed eyes, there seemed no golden buttercup meadows, no sun sending
flickers of colour across the valley down below, no scent of roses and
pinks in the borders outside her window. It was a grey hard world she
was seeing before her, a dusty monotonous never-ending climb uphill.
Her hand clenched upon the letter, and her lips took a straight firm
line. She had had to go through troublous times before in her life, but
never yet had any trouble touched her heart as this one was doing now.
Her unspoken thought was—
"Why am I punished for acting rightly? Why have I brought punishment
and misery upon those I care for, and love? If I had been less
single-hearted, less high-principled, if I had followed my heart's
desire, and taken the sunny easy path, this would not have happened!"
Then the hard bitterness passed away from her eyes, and they grew misty
with tears.
"It does not matter about me, but dear Mrs. Laird! I hoped she was
going to enjoy a little sunshine in her old age. It is enough to shake
her faith! Oh, how could he! How could he! He has a home and a mother
who loves him. He has lived for years in a grey clouded atmosphere, and
now that the clouds have gone, he might have been content. I cannot
understand it. Surely he is too self-contained, too sane to act on a
hot angry impulse. I cannot believe it is I who drove him to it! Poor
dear Mrs. Laird! How can I comfort her?"
"If you please, ma'am, can you have baby?"
Sara turned. Nurse stood in the doorway with the laughing crowing child
in her arms.
Sara caught hold of him. The touch of his soft baby fingers in her
hair, the warmth and sweetness of his little body in her arms, brought
a strange comfort to her aching heart.
"Oh, my little Oliver," she murmured, "will you grow up and bring
trouble upon those you love, I wonder? Is it in you to bring sadness
and tears to one who is weak and helpless and old? But we'll come out
into the sunshine, baby, and put dull care away!"
No one seeing Sara a few minutes later as she played with her little
nephew upon the sunny grass and pelted him with fallen rose petals,
whilst he kicked and laughed with glee, could have imagined that she
had just received a death knell to her secret hopes. For in her heart
of hearts, Sara had not doubted that sooner or later she and Graham
would come together. She had prayed for him earnestly, she felt that
like the young ruler in the Gospels he was "not far from the Kingdom of
God," but that, like him, he was not willing or ready to cast in his
life and lot with his Saviour, and meekly follow Him day by day.
Now she knew that Eva's influence would not bring him nearer the life
she coveted for him. And her own life looked bleak and grey before her.
When her hour with her little nephew was over, she went back to the
sitting-room, and replied to Mrs. Laird as follows:—
"MY DEAREST MRS. LAIRD,
"Your news perplexes and astonishes me, but do not let it fill you
with dismay. In life, to use a common platitude, what can't be cured,
must be endured. I love to think that you will not fail your son, and
already your courage has risen to the occasion. His welfare is your
first thought, I know. Do not blame me for this step which he has
taken. Mrs. Jeffery has had a strange hold upon him for a long time. I
think it is her weakness and helplessness that appeal to him. He has
always been ready to lend his strength to the weak, has he not? And I
cannot help feeling that his absolutely unselfish life will mould and
influence her character. She may regret the past. In any case, it is
buried and done with, is it not? Remember, if I had linked my life to
his as you wished, he would not have broken with Eva. Complications
might have ensued, and I might have become a jealous miserable wife.
God, I am sure, has it all in His Hands to work out as He sees fit. My
heart may sometimes misgive me for my decision, my conscience never
does. Now, please let this chapter in my life be buried with the