White Lilac; or the Queen of the May, Amy Walton [red seas under red skies TXT] 📗

on her heart. "I tremble all over still."

"And to think," said Molly, "as it was only yesterday I said to myself, `I'll darn that carpet before I'm an hour older'."

"Well, it's a pity you didn't," said Bella sharply; "just like your careless ways."

Molly shook her head.

"'Twasn't to _be_," she said. "'Twasn't for nothing that I spilt the salt twice, and dreamt of water."

"The doctor says it's a bad sprain," continued Bella; "and it's likely she'll be laid up for a month. Perfect rest's the only thing."

"_I_ had a cousin," said Molly triumphantly, "what had a similar accident. A heavy woman she was, like the missus in build. Information set in with _her_ and she died almost immediate."

Lilac did not wait to hear more; she made her escape safely to her attic, and soon afterwards found Agnetta and learnt from her the history of the accident. Mrs Greenways had had a bad fall; she had caught her foot in a hole in the carpet and twisted her ankle, and the doctor said it was a wonder she had not broken any bones. Everyone in the house had so much to say, and was so excited about this misfortune, that Lilac's little adventure was passed over without notice, and the scolding she had dreaded did not come at all. Poor Mrs Greenways had other things to think of as she lay groaning on the sofa, partly with pain and partly at the prospect before her. To be laid up a month! It was easy for the doctor to talk, but what would become of things? Who would look after Molly? Who would see to the dairy? It would all go to rack and ruin, and she must lie here idle and look on. Her husband stood by trying to give comfort, but every word he said only seemed to make matters worse.

"Why, there's Bella now," he suggested; "she ought to be able to take your place for a bit."

"And that just shows how much you know about the indoors work, Greenways," said his wife fretfully; "to talk of Bella! Why, I'd as soon trust the dairy to Peter's cat as Bella--partikler now she's got that young Buckle in her head. She don't know cream from buttermilk."

"Why, then, you must just leave the butter to Molly as usual, and let the girls see after the rest," said Mr Greenways soothingly.

"Oh, it's no use talking like that," said his wife impatiently; "it's only aggravating to hear you. I suppose you think things are done in the house without heads or hands either. Girls indeed! There's Agnetta, knows no more nor a baby, and only that little bit of a Lilac as can put her hand to anything."

Finding his efforts useless, Mr Greenways shrugged his shoulders and went out, leaving his wife alone with her perplexities.

The more she thought them over the worse they seemed. To whom could she trust whilst she was helpless? Who would see that the butter was ready and fit for market? Not Bella, not Agnetta, and certainly not Molly. Really and truly there was only that little bit of a Lilac, as she called her, to depend on--she would do her work just as well whether she were overlooked or not, Mrs Greenways felt sure. It was no use to shut her eyes to it any longer, Lilac White was not a burden but a support, not useless but valuable, only a child, but more dependable than many people of twice her years. It was bitter to poor Mrs Greenways to acknowledge this, even to herself, for the old jealousy was still strong within her.

"I s'pose," she said with a groan, "there was something in Mary White's upbringing after all. I'm not agoin' to own up to it, though, afore other folks."

When a little later Lilac was told that her aunt wanted her, she thought that the scolding had come at last, and went prepared to bear it as well as she could. It was, however, for a surprisingly different purpose.

"Look here, Lilac," said Mrs Greenways carelessly, "you've been a good deal in the dairy lately, and you ought to have picked up a lot about it."

"I can make the butter all myself, Aunt," replied Lilac, "without Molly touching it."

"Well, I hope you're thankful for such a chance of learning," said Mrs Greenways; "not but what you're a good child enough, I've nothing to say against you. But what I want to say is this: Molly can't do everything while I'm laid by, and I think I shall take her from the dairy-work altogether, and let you do it."

Lilac's eyes shone with delight. Her aunt spoke as though she were bestowing a favour, and she felt it indeed to be such.

"Oh! thank you, Aunt," she cried. "I'm quite sure as how I can do it, and I like it ever so much."

"With Agnetta to help you I dessay you'll get through with it," said Mrs Greenways graciously, and so the matter was settled. Lilac was dairymaid! No longer a little household drudge, called hither and thither to do everyone's work, but an important person with a business and position of her own. What an honour it was! There was only one drawback--there was no mother to rejoice with her, or to understand how glad she felt about it. Lilac was obliged to keep her exultation to herself. She would have liked to tell Peter of her advancement, but just now he was at work on some distant part of the farm, and she saw him very seldom, for her new office kept her more within doors than usual. The good-natured Molly was, however, delighted with the change, and full of wonder at Lilac's cleverness.

"It's really wonderful," she said; "and what beats me is that it allus turns out the same."

With this praise Lilac had to be content, and she busied herself earnestly in her own little corner with increasing pride in her work. Sometimes, it is true, she looked enviously at Agnetta, who seemed to have nothing to do but enjoy herself after her own fashion. Since Lenham fete Bella and she had had some confidential joke together, which they carried on by meaning nods and winks and mysterious references to "Charlie." They were also more than ever engaged in altering their dresses and trimming their hats, and although Lilac was kept completely outside all this, she soon began to connect it with the visits of young Mr Buckle. She thought it a little unkind of Agnetta not to let her into the secret, and it was dull work to hear so much laughter going on without ever joining in it; but very soon she knew what it all meant.

"Heard the news?" cried Agnetta, rushing into the dairy, then, without waiting for an answer, "Bella's goin' to get married. Guess who to?"

"Young Mr Buckle," said Lilac without a moment's hesitation.

"As soon as ever Ma's about again the wedding's to be," said Agnetta exultingly. "I'm to be bridesmaid, and p'r'aps Charlotte Smith as well." Lilac, who had stopped her scrubbing to listen, now went on with it, and Agnetta looked down at her kneeling figure with some contempt.

"What a lot of trouble you take over it!" she said. "Molly used to do it in half the time."

"If I ain't careful," answered Lilac, "the butter'd get a taste."

"I'll help you a bit," said her cousin condescendingly. "I'll rinse these pans for you."

Lilac was glad to have Agnetta's company, for she wanted to hear all about Bella's wedding; but Agnetta's help she was not so anxious for, because she usually had to do the work all over again. Agnetta's idea of excellence was to get through her work quickly, to make it look well outside, to polish the part that showed and leave the rest undone. Speed and show had always been the things desired in the household at Orchards Farm--not what _was_ good but what _looked_ good, and could be had at small expense and labour. Beneath the smart clothing which Mrs Greenways and her daughters displayed on Sundays, strange discoveries might have been made. Rents fastened up with pins, stains hidden by stylish scarves and mantles, stockings unmended, boots trodden down or in holes. A feather in the hat, a bangle on the arm, and a bunched-up dress made up for these deficiencies. "If it don't show it don't matter," Bella was accustomed to say. Agnetta paused to rest after about two minutes.

"Bella won't have nothing of this sort to do after she's married," she said. "Charlie says she needn't stir a finger, not unless she likes. She'll be able to sit with her hands before her just like a lady."

"I shouldn't care about being a lady if that's what I had to do," said Lilac. "I should think it would be dull. I'd rather see after the farm, if I was Bella."

"You don't mean to tell me you _like work_?" said Agnetta, staring. "You wouldn't do it, not if you weren't obliged? 'Tain't natural."

"I like some," said Lilac. "I like the dairy work and I like feeding the poultry. And I want to learn to milk, if Ben'll teach me. And in the spring I mean to try and get ever such a lot of early ducks."

"Well, I hate all that," said Agnetta. "Now, if I could choose I wouldn't live on a farm at all. I'd have lots of servants, and silk gownds and gold bracelets and broaches, and satting furniture, and a carridge to drive in every day. An' I'd lie in bed ever so late in the mornings and always do what I liked."

Time went on and Mrs Greenway's ankle got better, so that although still lame she was able to hobble about with a stick, and find out Molly's shortcomings much as usual. During her illness she had relied a good deal on Lilac and softened in her manner towards her, but now the old feeling of jealousy came back, and she found it impossible to praise her for the excellence of the dairy-work. "I can't somehow bring my tongue to it," she said to herself; "and the better she behaves the less I can do it." One day the farmer came back from Lenham in a good humour.

"Benson asked if we'd got a new dairymaid," he said to his wife; "the butter's always good now. Which of 'em does it?"

"Oh," said Mrs Greenways carelessly, "the girls manage it between 'em, and I look it over afore it goes."

Lilac heard it, for she had come into the room unnoticed, and for a second she stood still, uncertain whether to speak, fixing a reproachful gaze on her aunt. What a shame it was! Was this her reward for all her patience and hard work? Never a word of praise, never even the credit of what she did! On her lips were some eager angry words, but she did not utter them. She turned and ran upstairs to her own little attic. Her heart was full; she could see no reason for this injustice: it was very, very hard. What