White Lilac; or the Queen of the May by Amy Walton (good books to read for 12 year olds txt) 📖

be ready by the time Ben came, and her aunt's visit had been so long that it was already late. When she had finished she went downstairs to take a last look round. There stood all the well-known pieces of furniture, dumb, yet full of speech; they had seen and heard so much that was dear to her, that it seemed cruel to leave them to strangers. Above all she looked wistfully at a small twisted cactus in a pot standing on the window ledge. Mrs White had been fond of it, and had given it much care and attention. Might she venture to take it with her? How pleased Mother had been, she remembered, when the cactus had once rewarded her by producing two bright-red blossoms. That was long ago, and it had never done anything so brilliant again. Content with its one effort it had since remained unadorned, yet as it stood there, with its fat green leaves and little bunches of prickles, it had the air of saying to itself, "I have done it once, and if I liked I could do it a second time." Even now as she bent tenderly over it Lilac thought she could make out the faint beginning of a bud.

"I do wish I could take it," she said to herself. "If it was only in bloom maybe they'd like it."

But the cactus was very far from blooming, and perhaps had no intention of doing so; in its present condition it would certainly be considered "rubbish" at Orchards Farm.

Lilac turned from it with a sigh, and glancing through the window was startled to see that the cart with Ben sitting in it was already at the gate. Ben looked as though he might have been waiting there for some hours, and was content to wait for any length of time. She ran out in alarm.

"Oh, Ben!" she cried, "I never heard you. Have you been here long?"

"Not I," said Ben; "on'y just come. Missus she give orders as how I was to fetch down some cheers alonger you, so as to lighten the next load a bit."

By the time he had slowly stacked the chairs together, and disposed them round Lilac's box in the cart, which cost him much painful thought, there was not much room left.

"Now then, missie," he said at length, "that's the lot, ain't it?"

"Where am I to sit, Ben?" asked Lilac doubtfully. Ben took off his hat to scratch his head. He had a perfectly round, foolish face, with short dust-coloured whiskers.

"That's so," he said. "I clean forgot you was to go too."

A corner was at last found amongst the chairs, and Ben having hoisted himself on to the shaft they started slowly on their way. Lilac kept her eyes fixed on the cottage until a turn of the road hid it from her sight. It was just there she had turned to look at Mother on May Day. What a long, long time ago, and what a different Lilac she felt now! Grave and old, with all manner of cares and troubles waiting for her, and no one to mind if she were glad or sorry. No one to want her much or to be pleased at her coming. A burden instead of a blessing. She clung to the hope that Agnetta at least would not think her so, but would welcome her to her new home and be kind to her; but she was the only one of whom she thought without shrinking. Her aunt and uncle, Bella and Peter, above all the last, were people to be afraid of.

"Here's the young master," said Ben, suddenly turning his face round to look at her. "He be coming up to fetch the rest of the sticks."

Lilac peeped out through the various legs of chairs which surrounded her; towards her, crawling slowly up the hill, came a wagon drawn by three iron-grey horses, and by their side a broad-shouldered, lumbering figure. It was her Cousin Peter. Of course it was Peter, she thought impatiently, turning her head away. No one else would walk up the hill instead of riding in the empty wagon. The descent now becoming easier Ben whipped up his horse, and they soon jolted past Peter and his team.

"There's been a sight o' deaths lately in the village," he resumed cheerfully, having once broken the silence. "I dunno as I can ever call to mind so many. The bell's forever agoin'. It's downright mournful."

He was kindly disposed towards Lilac, and having hit upon this lucky means of entertaining her he dwelt on it for the rest of the way, fortunately requiring no answering remarks. It seemed long before they reached the farm, and Lilac was cramped and tired in her uneasy position when they had at last driven in at the yard gate. There was no one to be seen; but presently Molly, the servant girl, having spied the arrival from the back kitchen, came and stood at the door. When she discovered Lilac almost hidden by the chairs, she hastened out and held up a broad red hand to help her down from the cart.

"You've brought yer house on yer back like a hoddy-dod," she said with a grin.

Lilac clambered down with difficulty, and stood by the side of the cart uncertain where to go. A forlorn little figure in her straight black frock, clasping her mother's large old cotton umbrella. She wished she could see Agnetta, but she did not appear. Soon her aunt and Bella came into the yard, but their attention was immediately fixed on the chairs, which Ben had now unloaded and placed in a long row by Lilac's side.

"Where were they to go?" asked Molly.

In the living-room, Mrs Greenways thought, where they were short of chairs.

"In the bedrooms," said Bella contemptuously. "Common-looking things like them."

"We could do with 'em in the kitchen," added Molly.

The dispute continued for some time, but in the end Bella carried the day, and Mrs Greenways found time to notice the newcomer.

"Well, here you are, Lilac," she said. "Come along in, and Agnetta shall show where you've got to sleep."

Agnetta led the way up the steep stairs to the top of the house. She had rather a condescending manner as she threw open the door of a small attic in the roof.

"This is it," she said; "and Mamma says you've got to keep it clean yerself."

"I'd rather," said Lilac hastily. "I've always been used to."

She looked round the room. It was very like her old one at the cottage, and its sloping ceiling and bare white walls seemed familiar and homelike; it was a comfort, too, to see that its tiny window looked towards the hills. As she observed all this she took off her bonnet, and was immediately startled by a loud laugh from Agnetta.

"Well!" she exclaimed, "You have made a pretty guy of yourself."

Lilac put her hand quickly up to her head.

"Oh, I forgot--my hair," she said.

"Whatever made you do it?" asked Agnetta, planting herself full in front of her cousin and staring at her.

"It's neater," said Lilac, avoiding the hard gaze. "I shall wear it so till it gets longer. I'm not agoin' to have a fringe no more."

"Well!" repeated Agnetta, lost in astonishment; then she added:

"You do look comical! Just like a general servant. If I was you I'd wear a cap!"

With this parting thrust she clattered downstairs giggling. So this was Lilac's welcome. She went to the window, leant her arms on the broad sill, and looked forlornly up at the hill. There was not a single person who wanted her here, or who had taken the trouble to say a kind word. How could she bear to live here always?

"Li-lack!" shrieked a voice up the stairs, "you're to come to tea."

Through the meal that followed Lilac sat shyly silent, feeling that every morsel choked her, and listening to the clatter of voices and teacups round her but hardly hearing any words. The farmer had noticed her presence by a nod, and then resumed his newspaper. He meant to do his duty by Mary's girl until she was old enough to go to service, but no one could expect him to be glad of her arrival. Another useless member of the family to support, where there were already too many. Peter was not there at first, but when the meal was nearly over Lilac heard the wagon roll heavily into the yard, and soon afterwards its master came almost as heavily into the room and took his place at the table. When there he eat largely and silently, taking huge draughts of tea out of a great mug. This was one of his many vulgarities, which Bella deplored but could not alter, for he required so much tea that a cup was a ridiculous and useless thing to him, and had to be filled so often that it gave a great deal of trouble--in this therefore he was allowed to have his way.

When Lilac got into her attic that night she found that her deal box had been carried up and placed in one corner, and as she began to undress in the half-light she caught sight of something else which certainly had not been there before. Something standing in the window twisted and prickly, but to her most pleasant to look upon. Could it really be the cactus? She went up to it, half afraid to find that she was mistaken. No, it was not fancy, the cactus was there, and Lilac was so pleased to see its ugly friendly face that tears came into her eyes. She had found a little bit of kindness at last at Orchards Farm, and it no longer felt quite so cold and strange. Peter no doubt had brought the plant down from the cottage, but who had told him to do it? Her aunt, or Agnetta, or perhaps after all it was Uncle Joshua as usual.

Whoever it was Lilac felt very grateful, and went to sleep comforted with the thought that there was something in the room which had lived her old life and known her mother's care, though it was only a cactus plant.


CHAPTER SEVEN.

ORCHARDS FARM.

"For a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures,
and talk but a tinkling cymbal where there is no love."--_Bacon_.

"I like this one best," said Lilac.

She was looking in at the shed where Ben was milking the cows at Orchards Farm.

Inside it was dusky and cool. There was a sweet smell of hay and new milk, and it was very quiet, the silence only disturbed when an impatient cow stamped her foot or swished her tail at the flies, and was reproved by Ben's deep-toned, "Woa then, stand still." But outside it was very different, for the afternoon sun was still hot and dazzling, and all the farmyard creatures were conversing cheerfully together in many keys and voices. A tall white cock had perched himself tiptoe on a gate, crowing in a