HOME AGAIN
The nurse had spoken truly enough. William Hender did not die, and he got back to his home in time for Christmas. All through September and October the children kept up their hopes, each week they felt sure the next would bring the news that he was well enough to return to them; but the weeks went by, September had slipped into October, and October into November, and still he did not come.
The heat had suddenly broken up at the end of September, and the weather turned wet and stormy and depressing. Bella and Tom found the work in the garden almost beyond their power, and they longed for their father's help and advice; but week after week went by, and still he could not come, and the work had to be done somehow, by somebody.
Then, in November, the blow that some had feared all along fell on them. The doctor told Miss Hender that her brother might return to his home in a few weeks' time, but that he would never again be fit for hard work. He would be able to walk about a little, but he would always be a cripple and an invalid, and quite unable to carry on his old occupation.
The news fell on them all with crushing force. Miss Hender fell into her gloomiest mood, and drew the most miserable pictures of the future, with six to feed and clothe, rent to pay, an invalid man to keep, and only the children's earnings to do it all on.
Bella saw only her poor father's sad fate—a helpless cripple for the rest of his life, tied to the house, and with nothing to occupy his time, he who had always been so strong and active, who had never been able to stay patiently indoors for an hour, unless he had something to do. And she felt that her heart would break with her sorrow and love for him.
Little Margery realised only the joy of having him back, and instantly became full of preparations for his coming. She had a new rose to show him, and her Sunday-school prize, and she had five shillings in her money-box, about the spending of which she wanted his advice.
Tom, watching her plans to give their invalid a happy welcome, decided that Margery, after all, was the one to imitate, and he tried to throw off the sickening sense of misery which had overwhelmed him since he had heard the stunning news, and to follow her example.
"We've got to make the best of it for his sake," he said to Bella and Charlie, as they worked away together, turning over an empty strip of ground. "It is worst of all for him, and if he sees we are all miserable, he'll feel it is his fault, and it will make it harder than ever for him."
"I don't believe father'll be a cripple always," said Charlie sturdily; "he's sure to get better some day, and there's certain to be something he can do."
"But the doctors say he mustn't do anything," said Bella despondently.
"Doctors don't know everything! Everybody makes mistakes some time," he added quickly, for the doctor at the hospital was one of his special heroes.
It was a comfort to the others even to be unable to contradict him.
"Anyhow," said Tom, "we will go on as though we thought he was going to be better soon, and he'll be able to tell us what to do in the garden, and how to do it, and p'raps by degrees he'll find little things that he can do without hurting himself." And so by making plans to help the poor invalid to be happy and comfortable, they made themselves happier too.
"I don't think we can do better than go on as we are," said Bella. "If I was to go out to service, or Tom was to get work anywhere, it would be one less to feed, but we shouldn't be able to earn as much for the rest as we do now."
They all agreed on that point, and Aunt Maggie, who was called in to talk matters over, agreed with them. "I think you've got a good opening that it would be a sin to waste," she said heartily. "I think the best thing you can do is to try to increase your business all you can."
"If I could have a bit more of the garden for a run, and could get the money to put up a bigger house for my fowls," said Aunt Emma eagerly, "I believe I could do very well with them."
"I am sure you could," agreed Mrs. Langley warmly. She did not add that this was just what she had been wanting to suggest, but was afraid to, lest it should give offence.
Emma Hender's face quite lit up with pleasure. "If it isn't too damp for you, I wish you would come down the garden with me and see what I think would be a good place to have a house."
"I'd like to come," said Aunt Maggie warmly, only too glad to be friendly if Miss Hender would let her. "Shall we go now?"
Down the garden they all trooped, for, of course, Margery must be in everything, and Charlie was more interested in ducks and fowls, or any other live creature, than he was in flowers or fruit. They examined the present poky fowl-house and run, and then they surveyed the land, and each one gave an opinion on the matter.
"I think if we were to put the new house next to the old one it would be best, don't you?" said Aunt Emma.
Aunt Maggie looked about her for a minute thoughtfully. "Well, no," she said at last. "I think, if it was mine, I should have a new house close there by the orchard, and give them a run that would go right through the hedge, so that they could have the run of the orchard too. They would enjoy that, and it would keep them healthy, and they could pick up so much food you wouldn't need to feed them more than twice a day. What do you think about it?"
Miss Hender looked thoughtful for a minute. "Yes, I think it might be a good plan," she said. She did not speak very heartily, but it was a wonderful change for her to agree at all with any suggestion made by Mrs. Langley. "But there," she sighed, dropping back into her usual melancholy manner, "what does it matter? I don't suppose it will ever be my lot to get it. I don't see where the money is to come from," and she returned to the house with all the air of a much injured woman.
That afternoon, as Tom and Bella went round shutting up the hot-beds, Tom confided a new plan he had formed. "I am going to learn carpentering this winter," he said eagerly, "just plain carpentering, you know. I want to see if we can't build Aunt Emma her fowl-house by the spring. I'm sure she'd make it pay, and I believe she'd be better-tempered if she'd got something of her own to look after, and earn a little by."
"I believe she would," said Bella soberly. "I know I was."
It was only a few days later than this that William Hender came back once more to the house he had been absent from for a quarter of a year. The day before Christmas Eve was fixed on for his return, and in the double joy of Christmas and of having their father back, the children forgot for the time the trouble that hung over them all. To them his return made the season seem a more than usually joyful one; but Aunt Emma felt that, because of the trouble, Christmas should be ignored by them that year, and not kept up in any way.
"I am sure your poor father won't feel up to eating any Christmas dinner, or having any fun, or anything," she said gloomily. "We'd better let Christmas go by just like any other time. I've worries enough on my mind to keep me from rejoicing, and your poor father the same."
Bella felt her temper rising. "As if the trouble isn't more to me than it is to her," she thought impatiently. "A fine thing it would be if all sat down and groaned and cried!"
Tom looked puzzled. He felt that they ought at any rate to try to seem bright and cheerful for their father's sake, but he didn't want to seem unfeeling; yet the trouble would not grow less by looking miserable about it, and making every one else miserable too.
"We shall have father back," he said quietly, "that'll be enough to be glad about. I think we ought to keep it up a bit this year, just to show how glad we are."
"Can't you say you're glad when you see him? Won't that be enough?"
Charlie put his own feelings quite plainly. "Oh, Aunt Emma, we've never let Christmas go by yet; do let's keep it up this year! Let's have a nice dinner and some fun! Aunt Emma, do. P'raps we shan't all be here by another one."
Charlie was Miss Hender's favourite, and, as a rule, got what he asked for, though not, perhaps, the first time. Miss Hender was impressed by his last words. "P'raps we shan't all be here by another, one."
He had only meant that perhaps one of them might be out in service, but to her mind came only the thought of a longer and a final parting, such as they had so narrowly escaped, and the thought touched and awed her.
"Very well," she said at last; "if you are all set on a Christmas dinner, I'll cook it for you. I can't undertake more, my hands'll be full 'tending on your father."
"I can 'tend on father," Bella was about to say, and sharply, but fortunately she checked herself in time, as she remembered that there were many hours and some whole days in each week when she could do nothing for him, and he must be left entirely to Aunt Emma's care, and depend on her for all his comfort. So she said nothing, and she and Tom went off to their work, feeling thankful to Charlie for having gained so much for them, and determined to think of some other way also in which to keep up the happy season.
This was on the Monday, and on the Wednesday the invalid was to return, so that already there were great bustle and excitement at the cottage, preparing and making ready, for there really was a great deal to do. The room which had always been used as a parlour was now to be turned out and whitewashed and papered, and turned into a bedroom for the invalid, that he might not have to go up and down the stairs. Indeed, the whole house was made sweet and bright inside and out, the garden rails and the front door were given a coat of paint, and the garden itself made as neat as a December garden could be, though it was robbed of some of Bella's finest chrysanthemums to decorate the house on the longed-for day.
Their father was to leave the hospital soon after the midday meal there, reaching home early in the afternoon before the light began to wane, but by one o'clock the four children had taken up their position at the top of the lane to watch for the coming carriage.
As the time drew near when it might be expected, Aunt Maggie came and joined them, and further along the road they saw Mrs. Carter waiting to wave a welcome to their invalid, and presently others came, until there was quite a little gathering, anxious to show their neighbour how glad they were to see him back.
When the long-looked-for carriage came in sight, and Tom and the children darted forward to meet it, Bella could not go with them. Such a lump rose in her throat, such blinding tears to her eyes, such a feeling of love and pity and sorrow welled up in her heart, she could scarcely restrain herself from sobbing aloud, and turning quickly she walked stumblingly back to the empty house.
Mrs. Langley saw her go, but she did not follow, something in Bella's face told her she would rather be alone; but when Tom and Margery, missing her, ran back after her, Aunt Maggie did not stop them. She thought it best to let them go.
Charlie, as usual, went his own way, and when the carriage drove slowly down the lane and drew up at the gate, he was riding triumphantly on the step, the door-handle in his hand, ready to open it.
Bella stood by, nervously dreading the alterations she might see. Tom looked on, very grave and silent, but Margery, forgetting everything but that her father was come back, rushed towards him with a glad cry of welcome, "Oh, daddy, daddy! I'm so glad you've come back," and, flinging her arms about him, drew his face down to be kissed.
In spite of the suffering inseparable from it, it was a very happy home-coming. The invalid was helped into the house and put in his chair by the fire; but before they could begin to tell or hear all there was to tell or hear, the carriage had to be unloaded and all his belongings brought in; so, to get it done quickly and come back to him, they all trooped out to help.
And what a cry of excitement went up at the sight of what the carriage contained! For, first and foremost, on the seat that had been facing him, they found a real little Christmas-tree.
"I saw it!" cried Charlie; "I saw it directly I got on the step."
But no one paid any heed to Charlie's shouts, for they were bringing in the tree in triumph. Tom flew off to get a big pot to stand it in, and when he had planted it and brought it in and stood it in the place of honour in the kitchen, how cheery it looked, and how fragrantly the scent of it filled the cosy, warm room, and how excitedly they all discussed what should be hung on its branches, until their father, sorting out one box from the rest of his luggage, opened it and displayed little glittering candlesticks and pretty glass ornaments which were for nothing in the world but to hang on a Christmas-tree, and make it look perfectly beautiful.
There was a bright blue peacock with a spun-glass tail, and a top-knot of the same on his head, a rosy apple and a yellow pear, a bunch of grapes, and two balls that flashed and glittered, and all were as pretty as pretty could be, as they caught the glow of the fire and flashed it back in dozens of different lights.
"The Sister gave them to me; they had a lot sent them for the hospital tree—more than they could use, and she thought you would like some."
"Oh!" sighed Margery, breathless with delight, "I wish it was to-morrow now, and that there wasn't any night, for I'm afraid if I go to sleep I shall wake up and find it is only a dream."
Night came, though, and the next day, when Tom and Bella had to go to Norton—for the market was to be held on the Thursday, Christmas Eve, rather than on the Bank Holiday—and never, since they began, had the two found it so hard to start off on their day's work. There was so much to talk over and to do at home, so much to show their father; things they had done in the garden, and things they meant to do. He consoled them a little, though, by promising that he would not look at anything until they were there to show him round; and then, to cheer them in their work, there was his interest in the donkey and cart, and the packing up of their load, and his astonishment at the number of different things they carried in it now.
To-day there were holly and ivy and mistletoe, as well as all the usual things.
The weather was ideal Christmas weather, and the drive in was so beautiful, no one's spirits could go on remaining low. In the town, too, all was bustle and excitement. Every one seemed to be pleased and full of pleasant mysteries and nice secrets. The shop windows were full of lovely things, and the shops full of people buying them.
"I don't suppose we shall find any one at home," said Bella ruefully, as she dismounted first, as usual, at Mrs. Watson's door, and, indeed, Mrs. Watson was out 'shopping,' the maid said, but she had left an order for some chrysanthemums, and two shillingsworth of holly, if they had any.
Then, how glad Tom was that he and Charlie had spent that long day on Monday gathering Christmas decorations! It was Charlie's suggestion, and Charlie was to have half the profits.
Bella rejoiced doubly at every branch of holly that was sold, for, in the first place, it had been anything but pleasant as a travelling companion, and, in the second, the money it sold for helped to fill up her purse, and now, more than ever, were they anxious to earn every penny they could.
The next place they stopped at was Mrs. Adamson's. Here they found Joan and her mother both at home. Joan's face was full of excitement when Bella was shown into her own little private room; but Bella thought it was all on account of a pot of hyacinths that she was bringing her, to give to her mother as a Christmas present. Joan had ordered them weeks before, and Bella had taken special pains to bring them on nicely, and now they were to be handed over to the little owner, and hidden until the next day.
Bella soon found that it was not the hyacinths only that were causing Joan's excitement. "I've got something for you, too," she said eagerly, and she drew out from amongst her cushions and under her rug several interesting-looking parcels.
"They are secrets, and you mustn't look inside them until you get home," she said firmly. "That one is for your father, and that is for your aunt, and this is for you; that is for Tom, and that for Charlie, and this one is for Margery. I can't help your seeing it is a dolly, for I can't wrap it up any better, it is so big and bulgy."
Bella tried her hardest to thank the kind little invalid as warmly as she felt, but her surprise and delight nearly robbed her altogether of speech.
"Oh, and they shall all go on father's tree!" she gasped delightedly, as the idea suddenly came to her. Then, of course, Joan had to be told about the little tree that their father had brought home with him, and she grew almost as excited as Bella herself.
"Do put my parcels on it, and don't, please, tell them anything about them until the tree is lighted up. Have you got candles for it?"
Bella shook her head. She had not thought about lighting up the tree.
"Will you, please, pass me that box on the table?" asked Joan, and when Bella had done so, she opened it and took from it six little Christmas candles. "I have lots," she said; "do, please, have these."
"I do think Christmas is the most lovely time of all the year!" said Bella to Tom, as, with her parcels carefully hidden at the bottom of her big basket, they drove on again, and Tom agreed.
Inside the shops and outside the Christmas spirit reigned that day. Buyers and sellers all seemed possessed with it, and so busy was every one that there was no dawdling over the making of purchases, and the children, though they had an even larger supply than usual, had sold out their store quite early.
"We could start for home at once," said Bella, as the clock struck one, "but I would like to take home just one or two little things for the Christmas tree, and some oranges and nuts—and oh, I wish we could get some nice little present for father, and something for Aunt Emma. Do you think we might, Tom?"
"Yes," said Tom, without hesitation; "we'll spend the holly money—my share of it, I mean. You see, it won't be like wasting it; we will get them something useful."
"Let's go and look at the shops," cried Bella delightedly. "Oh, won't it be fine when they see the things on the tree! We won't let them know anything about it till then, will we?"
They went down the street, and up, and down again, looking in at every shop window most intently, but quite unable to decide on what to lay out their money. They wanted two things that must be cheap, and must be useful, and must suit their father and aunt.
At last Tom grew impatient. "Look here, we've got to make up our minds and settle on something, for it's time we were getting home."
They were standing outside a drapery store at that moment—the kind of store where they sell not only drapery, but all kinds of things—and almost as Tom spoke the shop and window burst into a blaze of light. Being Christmas Eve, they were going to spare no expense in making the place look attractive.
Tom and Bella drew near for another look, and almost at the same moment their eyes fell on the very thing they wanted, a pair of soft warm felt slippers. "Those will do for father, they'll be splendid!" they exclaimed in one breath; and the next moment Bella was in the shop, so afraid was she that some one else would be before her in securing them.
Having made sure of them, she was able to look about her, and, hanging over the counter, she caught sight of some little grey woollen turnovers. "One of those will be just the thing for Aunt Emma," she whispered to Tom, "to put over her shoulders when she goes down to the fowls."
So a shawl was purchased, too, and, almost too excited and pleased to know what they were about, the children hurried off for Rocket and the cart, and started for home.