"She will tell you when to be ready. In the meantime I must go," said Miss Goldthwaite with her pleasant smile. "Good-bye, and success to the waggon-painting."

VIII.

UP THE PEAK.

Tom and Lucy Hurst peered anxiously out of their chamber windows at six o'clock on Monday morning to see a clear, calm, beautiful sky, with a faint roseate flush in the east, where, by-and-by, the sun would come up brilliantly. Aunt Hepsy was as cross as two sticks, and Uncle Josh morose and taciturn; but even these things failed to damp their spirits, and at a quarter to eleven they set off, a very happy pair, across the meadow to the parsonage. Both looked well. Lucy's mourning, though simple and inexpensive, was wonderfully becoming; and some fine delicate lace, which had been her mother's, relieved the sombre black dress nicely. Miss Goldthwaite was very proud of her friends, and told them so when she greeted them. They were just in time, and the four set off, Tom in front with Miss Goldthwaite, and Lucy walking with the minister. She was shy and quiet, but somehow n.o.body could be long afraid of Mr. Goldthwaite. He possessed his sister's charm of manner, and drew Lucy on to talk in spite of herself. At the Red House there was a great bustle. The big waggon was at the front door, and the little one at the back, into which the cook was stowing all sorts of eatables. Minnie Keane, in a state of great excitement, was flying about with a tiny kitten in each arm, the mother following at her heels mewing piteously for her children to be left in safety. Minnie dropped the kittens when she saw the party from the parsonage coming round the avenue, and ran to meet them. Miss Goldthwaite made the introductions, and then she and Mr.

Goldthwaite pa.s.sed into the house, leaving the children beside the waggon. There was but a moment's shyness, and then the irrepressible Minnie's tongue began to go freely.

"You look nice, Lucy," she said frankly. "I guess we'll have a good time to-day. There always is a good time when papa takes us anywhere."

"This is a nice horse," said Tom, feeling he must say something.

"What's his name?"

"Oh, that's Billy. He's very old, and rather cross. You should see papa's Beauty. Come to the stable and I'll show you her."

She drew Lucy's arm within her own and darted off, Tom following.

Minnie was quite at home in the stable, and familiar with every animal in it. Beauty p.r.i.c.ked up her ears and whinnied at the touch of Minnie's caressing fingers.

"You ask Miss Goldthwaite about Beauty," she said. "She thinks there isn't another horse like her in the world.--Don't you love horses, Lucy?"

"Yes; I love all animals," replied Lucy. "I saw some nice little kittens round there."

"Yes; I've three. We'd better go round now, I think; perhaps they'll want to be going.--I'm glad it's a fine day; aren't you, Tom?"

"I think I am. I looked out at six this morning to see if it was.

It'll be glorious up the Peak."

As the three came round to the front door again, Miss Keane appeared on the threshold. She looked very tall and stately and awe-inspiring with her trailing dress and eye-gla.s.s. Yet her smile as she shook hands with the children was so pleasant that Lucy forgot to be afraid of her.

"My mother would like to see you, Tom and Lucy," she said. "Will you come upstairs? she is not able to leave the room, you know.--Minnie, I wish you would look round for papa. It is just twelve; we should be going."

Minnie scampered off, and Tom and Lucy followed Miss Keane up the broad staircase into the drawing-room, the beauty of which held them spellbound for a few minutes. On a couch near the fire lay a lady, with gray hair and a pale, thin, worn face, which wore such an expression of peace and happiness that Lucy felt her heart go out to her at once. Mr. and Miss Goldthwaite and George Keane were there also. Mrs. Keane held out both her hands, and the two came shyly forward--Tom blushing a little to be among so many strangers.

"I am glad to see you, my dears," she said very heartily.--"Kiss me, Lucy. I knew your mother, dear. You remind me of her very much."

The ready tears sprang to Lucy's eyes. Kindness always moved her thus, and she took a stool close to the couch, while Tom's eyes wandered round the room, lingering hungrily on the exquisite water-colours on the walls. It was long since he had had such an opportunity. At Thankful Rest the art collection consisted of a few family portraits, ludicrous alike in execution and in colouring. A smile and a glance pa.s.sed from Mr. Goldthwaite to his sister as they noted how speedily the boy became absorbed.

"These are my brother Robert's drawings," said Miss Keane, touching his arm and beckoning him to come nearer. "You are fond of painting, I think?"

"Yes, ma'am," answered Tom, his face flushing a little. "And these are so beautiful, I could not help looking at them."

"If you will come up to the Red House some other day, I shall show you all my brother's sketch-books and odd drawings," said Miss Keane.

"I am very fond of the work myself, and might perhaps be able to help you a little, you know, and I think you would make a clever pupil; what do you say?"

The eyes behind the gla.s.ses beamed so kindly at him that Tom forgot that his first impression of her had been unpleasant, and a warm flush of grat.i.tude answered her better than his words. They were few and sad enough.

"There is nothing I should like so much in the world, ma'am, and I thank you very much; but I can't come--my uncle and aunt would not let me."

"I must see about that," said Miss Keane promptly; and at that moment Judge Keane's stately figure appeared in the doorway.

"Are you going to sit there all day, you young folk?" he called out hastily.--"Oh, here you are, little ones;--glad to see you, my lad;"

and he gave Tom's hand a warm grasp, and touched Lucy's white face with his forefinger.

"Want some roses there, doesn't she, wife?" he said. "There'll be a glorious air up the Peak to-day, it will bring them there, if anything will."

"I wish you could have come, dear Mrs. Keane," whispered Carrie as she bent a moment over the couch before they pa.s.sed out; "you used to be the very sunshine of us all."

"I think of you, dear, and am happy in my own way at home," she replied with her sweet smile; "take care of yourself and of this pale little maiden.--Lucy dear, good-bye. Come and see me again."

"Indeed I will, if I can, ma'am," replied Lucy earnestly; and then they all went away. Minnie was already in the big waggon waiting impatiently for the start.

"You will go inside too, little one, I suppose," said the judge to Lucy; and with one swing of his strong arms he placed her beside Minnie. "The rest of us will walk a piece, I fancy. As this is supposed to be a climbing expedition, we must make some show, at least, to begin with."

There was a general laugh, and Tom and Lucy thought there could not be so pleasant an old gentleman as Judge Keane anywhere.

Miss Keane elected Tom for her cavalier, and made him feel very important indeed, by treating him as if he were quite a man; and they got into a very interesting talk about the great painters and their work. She was astonished to find what a thorough knowledge the boy had of the subject, and how well he could talk on what interested him most.

"Robert must see this young artist," was her mental comment. The judge followed behind with Mr. Goldthwaite; while Mr. George Keane and Miss Goldthwaite brought up the rear, walking very slowly, and talking very earnestly. n.o.body took any notice of them whatever, evidently being of opinion that they were quite capable of amusing each other. The waggon-path, winding gradually up the mountain side, was rough and stony, and even Billy's cautious feet stumbled sometimes; and the two girls were jolted so that they laughed till they cried.

"I think we'd better get out; don't you, Lucy?" cried Minnie at last, "else there'll be none of us left to see the top of the Peak. I never was so sore in my life. Isn't it fun though?"

"Yes; and the sun is so bright, and everybody so kind, and everything so pleasant, I don't know what to do," said Lucy with softening eyes.

Minnie looked at her curiously.

"I say, don't you have any good times at your home, Lucy?" she asked soberly.

"Sometimes--not very often," answered Lucy reluctantly.

"I don't think your aunt is a very nice woman anyway," said Minnie with her usual candour. "She looked at me so one day in church, 'cause I laughed right out at a funny little dog with a stumpy tail running in and right up to Mr. Goldthwaite. Wouldn't you have laughed too?"

"I don't know," said Lucy; "if it was very funny, I daresay I would."

"How pretty you are," said Minnie after a while; "my sister Alice says so--I guess she knows." Lucy blushed, not being accustomed to such plain speaking. "I think Miss Goldthwaite perfectly elegant,"

went on the young critic. "She is going to marry my brother George, do you know?"

"Is she?" asked Lucy, much interested.

"Yes; and papa and mamma are crazed about her. Everybody is. Isn't she just splendid?"

"There is n.o.body like her," answered Lucy. Minnie could never know what she had been and was to her.

"Lovers are stupid, don't you think?" asked Minnie again. "They always go away by themselves, and things; you just watch George and Carrie to-day. It is a great trial to me."

"What is?" asked Mr. George Keane, pausing at the side of the waggon.

Minnie laughed outright, so did Lucy.