But now came the question as to how it was to be carried down the hill to the school room. Lilac could not lift the great basket, and it was at last found best to pile up the branches in her long white pinafore, which she held by the two corners. When all was ready she looked seriously across the fragrant burden, which reached up to her chin, and said:

"You'll be sure and be up there in time, won't you, Mother, or you won't see me crowned?"

"No fear," said Mrs White as she held the gate open. "Mind and walk steady or you'll drop some, and you can't pick it up if you do."

Lilac nodded. She was almost too excited to speak. If it felt like this to be Queen of the May, she wondered what it must be like to be a real Queen!

It was a glorious morning. The mist had gone, the sun had come, and all the birds were singing their best tunes to welcome him. To Lilac they sounded more than usually gay, as though they were telling each other all sorts of pleasant things. "The sun is here--it is May Day--Lilac is Queen." All the trees too, as they bent in the breeze, seemed to talk together with busy murmurs and whisperings: they tossed their heads and threw up their hands as if in surprise at some news, and then bowed low and gracefully before her, for what they had heard was--"Lilac White is Queen!"

Her heart danced so to listen to them that it was quite difficult to keep her feet to a measured step, but when she reached the turn of the hill something made her feel that she must look back. She turned slowly round. There was Mother waving her hand at the gate. When they next met it would be up in the woods, and Lilac would wear crown and garland.

She could not wave her hand or even nod in return, but she made a sort of little curtsy and went on her way.

At the bottom of the hill she met Mrs Wishing, who, bent nearly double by a heavy bundle, was crawling up from the village.

"Well, you look happy anyhow, Lilac White," she said mournfully. "And you haven't forgotten to bring enough flowers with you either."

"I can't stop," said Lilac, "I've got to go and put these on Father first. It's so far for Mother to come."

She gave a movement of her chin towards the primrose wreath which Mrs White had added at the last moment to the heap of flowers.

"Ah! well," sighed Mrs Wishing, "in the midst of life we are in death.

I haven't much heart for junketing myself, but I shall be up yonder this afternoon if I'm spared."

Lilac pa.s.sed quickly on, nodding and smiling in return to the greetings which met her. At the door of the shop stood Mr Dimbleby, his face heavier than usual with importance, and a little farther on she saw her Uncle Greenways' wagon and team waiting in charge of Ben, who leant lazily against one of the horses. Mr Greenways always lent a wagon on May Day so that the very old people and small children might drive up the worst part of the hill. Certainly it was there in plenty of time, for it would not be wanted till the afternoon; but it is always well not to be hurried on such occasions, and many of the people had to walk from outlying hamlets.

Lilac laid her primroses on her father's grave, and turned back towards the school-house just as the clock struck twelve. There were now many other little figures hurrying in the same direction with businesslike step, and all carrying flowers. Primroses, daisies, b.u.t.tercups, cowslips, and honeysuckle were to be seen, but there was nothing half so beautiful as the heap of white lilac. Agnetta saw it as she pa.s.sed into the school room, and gave an astonished stare and a sniff of displeasure: she had only brought a basket of small daisies, and had taken no trouble about them, so that her offering was not noticed or praised at all. Then Lilac advanced, and dropping her little curtsy stood silently in front of Miss Ellen and Miss Alice holding out her pinafore to its widest extent. There were exclamations of admiration and surprise from everyone, and Agnetta stamped her foot with vexation to hear them.

"It's _exquisite_!" said Miss Ellen at last. "Where did you get such a beautiful lot of it?"

"Please, ma'am, I don't know," said Lilac. "I found it on the doorstep."

Agnetta's wrath grew higher every moment. No one paid her any attention, and here was her insignificant cousin Lilac the centre of everyone's interest. She overheard a whisper of Miss Alice's: "She'll make far the loveliest Queen we've ever had."

What could it be they admired in Lilac? Agnetta stood with a pout on her lips, idle, while all round the busy work and chatter went on.

"Now, Agnetta," said Miss Ellen, bustling up to her, "there's plenty to do. Get me some twine and some wire, and if you're very careful you may help me with the Queen's sceptre."

It was a hateful office, but there was no help for it, and Agnetta had to humble herself in the Queen's service for the rest of the morning.

To kneel on the floor, pick off small sprays from the bunches of lilac, and hand them up to Miss Ellen as she wove them into garland and sceptre. While she did it her heart was hot within her, and she felt that she hated her cousin. The work went on quickly but very silently inside the schoolroom. There was no time to talk, for the ma.s.ses of flowers which covered table, benches, and floor had all to be changed into wreaths and garlands before one o'clock, for the Queen and her court. Outside it was not so quiet. An eager group had gathered there long ago, composed of the drum-and-fife band, which broke out now and then into fragments of tunes, the boy with the maypole on his shoulder, and bearers of sundry bright flags and banners. To these the time seemed endless, and they did their best to shorten it by jokes and laughter; it was only the close neighbourhood of the schoolmaster which prevented the boldest from climbing up to the high window and hanging on by his hands to see how matters were going on within. But at last the latch clicked, the door opened wide: there stood the smiling little white Queen with her gaily dressed court crowding at her back. There was a murmur of admiration, and the band, gazing open-mouthed, almost forgot to strike up "G.o.d save the Queen." For there was something different about this Queen to any they had seen before. She was so delicately white, so like a flower herself, that looking out from the blossoms which surrounded her she might have been the spirit of a lilac bush suddenly made visible. The white lilac covered her dress in delicate sprays, it bordered the edge of her long train, it twined up the tall sceptre in her hand, it was woven into the crown which was carried after her. At present the Queen's head was bare, for she would not be crowned till she reached her throne in the woods.

Then the procession began its march, band playing, banners fluttering bravely in the wind, through the village first, so that all those who could not get up the hill might come to their doors and windows to admire. Then leaving the highroad it came to the steep ascent, and here the wind blowing more freshly almost caught away the Queen's train from the grasp of her two little pages. The band, in spite of gallant struggles, became short of breath, so that the music was wild and uncertain; and the smaller courtiers straggled behind unable to keep up with the rest.

It made its way, however, notwithstanding these difficulties, and from the top of the hill where crowds of people had now gathered it was watched by eager and interested eyes. First it looked in the distance like a struggling piece of patchwork on the hillside, then it took shape and they could make out the maypole and the flags, then, nearer still, the sounds of the three tunes which the band played over and over again were wafted to their ears, and at last the small white figure of the Queen herself could plainly be distinguished from the rest. It did not take long after this to reach level ground, and as the procession moved along with recovered breath and dignity to the music of "G.o.d save the Queen", it was followed by admiring remarks from all sides:

"See my Johnnie! Him in the pink cap. Bless his 'art, how fine he looks!" Or "There's Polly Ann with the wreath of daisies!"

"Well now," said Mrs Pinhorn, "I will say Lilac looks as peart and neat as a little bit of waxworks."

"She wants colour, to my thinking," said Mrs Greenways, to whom this was addressed.

The Greenways stood a little aloof from the general crowd, dressed with great elegance. Bella rather looked down on the whole affair. "It's so mixed," she said; "but we have to go, because Papa don't wish to offend Mr Leigh."

"I call that a real pretty sight," said Joshua Snell, turning to his neighbour, who happened to be Peter Greenways. "They've dressed her up very fitting in all them lilac blooms. But wherever did they get such a sight of 'em?"

Peter had been forced into a shiny black suit of clothes, a stiff collar, and a bright blue necktie, that he might not disgrace the stylish appearance of his mother and sisters. In this attire he felt even less at his ease than usual, and his arms hung before him as helplessly as those of a stuffed figure. Perhaps it was owing to this state of discomfort that he made no other answer to Joshua's remark than a nervous grin.

"I don't see the Widder White anywheres," continued Joshua, looking round; "but there's such a throng one can't tell who's who."

Lilac, too, had been looking in vain for her mother amongst the groups of people she had pa.s.sed through, and as she took her seat on the hawthorn-covered throne she gazed wistfully to right and left. No, Mother was not there. Plenty of well-known faces, but not the one she wanted most to see.

"She _promised_ to be in time," she said to herself, "and now she'll miss the crowning." It was a dreadful pity, for Lilac could only be Queen once in her life, and it seemed to take away the best part of the pleasure for Mother not to be there. She had been looking forward to it for so long. What could have kept her away? The Queen's eyes filled with tears of disappointment, and through them the form of Peter Greenways seemed to loom unnaturally large, his face redder than ever above his blue neckcloth, his mouth and eyes wide open. Lilac checked her tears and remembered her exalted position. She must not cry now; but directly the crowning and the dance were over she resolved to search for her mother, and if she were not there to go home and see what had prevented her coming.

This determination enabled her to bear her honours with becoming dignity, and to put aside her private anxiety for the time like other royal personages. She danced round the maypole with her court, and led the May-Day song as gaily as if her pleasure had been quite perfect.

But it was not; for all the while she was wondering what could possibly have become of her mother.

At last, her public duties over, the Queen found herself at liberty.

The crowd had dispersed now, and was broken up into little knots of people chatting together and waiting for the next excitement--tea-time.

Through these Lilac pa.s.sed with always the same question: "Have you seen Mother?" Sometimes in the distance she fancied she saw a shawl of a pattern she knew well, but having pursued it, it turned out to belong to someone quite different. She had just made up her mind to go home, when one of her companions ran up to her with an excited face:

"Come along," she cried; "they're just agoin' to start the races."

Lilac hesitated. "I can't," she said; "I've got to go and look after Mother."

"Well, it'll be on your way," said the other; "and you needn't stop no longer nor you like. Come along."

She seized Lilac's arm and they ran on together to the flat piece of ground on the edge of the wood, where the races were to take place. The steep side of the down descended abruptly from this, and Lilac knew that by taking that way, which was quite an easy one to her active feet, she could very quickly reach home. So she stayed to look first at one race and then at another, and they all proved so amusing that the more she saw the more she wanted to see, though she still said to herself: "I'll go after this one." She was laughing at the struggling efforts of the boys in a sack race, when suddenly, amidst the noise of cheers and shouting which surrounded her, she heard her own name spoken in an urgent entreating voice: "Lilac--Lilac White!"

"Who is it wants me!" she said, starting up and trying to force her way through the crowd. "I'm here; what is it?" The people stood back to let her pa.s.s.

"It's Mrs Leigh wants you," said a woman. "She's standing back yonder."

It was strange to see Mrs Leigh's beaming face look so grave and troubled, and it gave Lilac a sense of fear when she reached her.

"Is Mother here, ma'am?" was her first question. "Does she want me, please?"

Mrs Leigh did not answer quite at once, then she said very seriously:

"Your mother is at home, Lilac. You must go with me at once. She is ill."

Self-reproach darted through Lilac's heart. Why had she put off going home? But she must do the best she could now, and she said at once:

"Hadn't I best send someone for the doctor first, ma'am?"

"He is there," answered Mrs Leigh. "He was sent for some time ago; Daniel Wishing went."

The next thing was to get back to Mother as quickly as possible, and Lilac turned without hesitation to the way she had meant to take-- straight down the side of the hill. But Mrs Leigh stopped aghast.

"You're not going down there, surely?" she said.