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two half-holidays Wednesday and Saturday. Eight miles' walking
would have been too much for him; and it had been arranged that on
the four other days he should dine with Mr. and Mrs. Bardsley, and
his hours of work would be from nine to twelve and from two to
five, with tasks to prepare at home in the evening.
It seemed rather hard to begin this routine just in the first days of
August, when the weather was so lovely, and the woods so enticing,
and holiday cricket-matches going on in Wilbourne Park. Cecil's face
was a little dismal at breakfast the first morning, and it was real self-
government which kept him from grumbling when Jessie was
helping him to put his schoolbooks together. Just as they were firmly
strapped, his mother came to bid him 'good-bye for a few hours,'
with a tender kiss and a few cheerful words, and after that his heart
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Holiday Tales
felt lighter, and he set out bravely; but he was just beginning to think
what a long dull walk it was, and what a dusty road, and how
delightful it would be if he might shy his books over the hedge and
strike off across the meadows to join Percy, who had gone out
fishing, when he heard steps behind him, and turning, saw the tall
curate running along with rapid strides. His first impression was
that something had happened at the Rectory since he started, and
that Mr. Yorke was come to take him back; but he was soon
undeceived.
'GOOD-BYE, CECIL.'.
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Holiday Tales
'I've got business in Fairview,' the young clergyman explained, 'and I
meant to go in early; and when I saw you pass by, I thought I might
as well get ready and try to overtake you. I like company myself;
don't you?'
'Yes, very much,' said Cecil, swinging his books over his shoulder
cheerfully again, instead of dangling them drearily from the end of
the strap, as he had been doing before. 'Lewis wanted to come with
me, but mother wouldn't have liked his walking back alone; and
besides, one doesn't always want a little chap like that after one.'
'I thought Percy might want to get his watch-chain mended,' said
Mr. Yorke, with rather a droll expression in his eyes. 'Doesn't it
require mending periodically? That was what he always used to tell
me last vacation, when I met him going into Fairview.'
'He hadn't had his watch long then, and was always taking it out to
look at it,' said Cecil, laughing. 'I think that was how the chain got
broken. He's used to it now. I wonder if Uncle Percy will give me a
watch when I'm sixteen. Of course Percy wanted one particularly,
because of his going to Sandhurst. He's gone out fishing this
morning: mustn't it be jolly in the water-meadows?'
'Very; but how well this part of the road is watered! it's quite
pleasant walking here. I suppose the Fairview water-carts come out
as far as this.'
'I wish they'd come all the way,' said Cecil; 'I was just thinking how
dusty it was before I met you.'
'And I was wondering whether you chose the road instead of the
path on purpose, because you liked the dust: there's no accounting
for tastes.'
'I'll try the path next time,' said Cecil with a smile. 'Do you know old
Bardsley, Mr. Yorke?'
'Yes, I met him at the Institute one day, and we had a lively
discussion about Greek roots. He's a clever man, I think, and has a
real taste for teaching. When he gets hold of a fellow that cares to
learn, I'm told there's no limit to the pains he'll take with him.'
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Holiday Tales
'Jim Payne didn't like him at all,' said Cecil, alluding to the son of a
small farmer in the neighbourhood; 'he said he was an awful brute.'
'Jim Payne likes nothing but idleness, and his father is mistaken
enough to let him have his way.'
Cecil wisely suppressed some further quotations which he had
meant to make from Jim Payne's account of Mr. Bardsley; and they
walked on sociably together, talking of other things. It really seemed
quite a short walk, after all, though Cecil had fancied it very long
when he first set out.
He was in tolerably good spirits when he trod that road again in the
evening, though this time he was alone the whole way. He did not
dislike either the school or the schoolmaster as much as he had
expected; and he felt that if he worked hard, and conformed to rules,
there was no danger of his ever finding Mr. Bardsley the terrible
monster that Jim Payne had described him to be.
It would, and did, seem a drudgery to prepare school tasks that
evening, while Percy was enjoying 'elegant leisure;' but there was the
Saturday half-holiday to look forward to, and Cecil's health was
good, and not likely to suffer from his speedy return to work. Seeing
him so patient and industrious, his father wondered how it was that
he still expressed no sorrow for his past idleness, but did not press
him for any such acknowledgment. He believed that it would come
in time, and was quite content to take his present good conduct as a
sign of penitence. 'He would not bear his punishment so well if he
were not really sorry for his fault,' he said to himself.
'You are not angry with Cecil now, father, are you?' said Jessie softly
the next morning, as they stood watching him trudge down the
gravel path towards the gate on his way to school.
'No; very much pleased in some ways,' he answered. 'How late the
post is this morning! I'm afraid old Hawkins is stopping for a long
chat with Mrs. Giles. Just run down the lane and see; and if there is
any letter for me, bring it at once to my study. I have to go out in five
minutes.'
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Holiday Tales
Jessie was running off directly, with her long hair streaming in the
wind, when her mother called to her to put something on; and she
came back, snatched her garden-hat and holland cape from their peg,
and flew away again. Yes, the old postman was standing gossiping
with Mrs. Giles at her garden gate, just as Mr. Cunningham had
foreseen. When Jessie breathlessly inquired if there were any letters
for the Rectory, the old man answered composedly, 'Yes, Missy,
three letters for your house two for your reverend father, and one
for Miss Mary. Shall I take 'em round, or shall I give 'em to you?'
'Oh, I'll take them, please,' said Jessie; and back she flew with them,
and straight into the study she went, holding out the two that
belonged to Mr. Cunningham.
'Thanks. This is the one I wanted, from your Uncle Percy,' he said as
he took them from her; 'and this is from Dr. Lomax. What makes him
write again, I wonder?'
'Oh, father, do open it, please!' said Jessie excitedly, a sudden hope
springing up in her breast.
'My child, what can there be in it to signify? It is an account for some
schoolbooks, perhaps,' said Mr. Cunningham, rather as if he thought
her a very silly little girl. But when he looked up and saw her eager,
quivering face, he added, with a smile, 'Well, to set your mind at
rest, I will just take a glance.'
He opened the letter as he spoke, but it was much more than a
glance which he gave it. A minute passed, two minutes, three, and
still he read on and did not speak. Jessie never took her eyes off his
face; hope and fear struggled together in her heart, and hope was
uppermost. But for the gravity of her father's silence, she would have
felt sure that all was coming right.
At last he spoke. 'There was a mistake, Jessie: the marks were [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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