A Patriotic Schoolgirl (WWI Centenary Series). Angela Brazil

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СКАЧАТЬ a fresh contingent in any day. That’s why we’re taking the opportunity to have a special cleaning.”

      “I wish I were old enough to be a V.A.D.!” sighed Marjorie. “I’d love it better than anything else I can think of. It’s my dream at present.”

      “I enjoy it thoroughly,” said Elaine; “though, of course, there’s plenty to do, and sometimes the Commandant gets ratty over just nothing at all. Have you St. John’s Ambulance classes at school?”

      “They’re going to start next month, and I mean to join. I’ve put my name down.”

      “And Dona too?”

      “They’re not for Juniors. We have a First Aid Instruction class of our own,” explained Dona; “but I hate it, because they always make me be the patient, as I’m a new girl, and I don’t like being bandaged, and walked about after poisons, and restored from drowning, and all the rest of it. It’s rather a painful process to have your tongue pulled out and your arms jerked up and down!”

      “Poor old girl! Perhaps another victim will arrive at half-term and take your place, then you’ll have the satisfaction of performing all those operations upon her. I’ve been through the same mill myself once upon a time.”

      The Traffords’ house, “The Tamarisks”, stood on Cliff Walks, a pleasant residential quarter somewhat away from the visitors’ portion of the town, with its promenade and lodging-houses. There was a beautiful view over the sea, where to-day little white caps were breaking, and small vessels bobbing about in a manner calculated to test the good seamanship of any tourists who had ventured forth in them. Aunt Ellinor was in the town at a Food Control Committee meeting, so Elaine for the present was sole hostess.

      “What shall we do?” she asked. “You may choose anything you like. The cinema and tea at a café afterwards? Or a last game of tennis (the lawn will just stand it)? Or shall we go for a scramble on the cliffs? Votes, please.”

      Without any hesitation Dona and Marjorie plumped for the cliffs. They loved walking, and, as their own home was inland, the seaside held attractions. Elaine hastily changed into tweed skirt and sports coat, found a favourite stick, and declared herself ready, and the three, in very cheerful spirits, set out along the hillside.

      It was one of those beautiful sunny October days when autumn seems to have borrowed from summer, and the air is as warm and balmy as June. Great flocks of sea-gulls wheeled screaming round the cliffs, their wings flashing in the sunshine; red admiral and tortoise-shell butterflies still fluttered over late specimens of flowers, and the bracken was brown and golden underfoot. The girls were wild with the delight of a few hours’ emancipation from school rules, and flew about gathering belated harebells, and running to the top of any little eminence to get the view. After about a mile on the hills, they dipped down a steep sandy path that led to the shore. They found themselves in a delightful cove, with rugged rocks on either side and a belt of hard firm sand. The tide was fairly well out, so they followed the retreating waves to the water’s edge. A recent stormy day had flung up great masses of seaweed and hundreds of star-fish. Dona, whose tastes had just begun to awaken in the direction of natural history, poked about with great enjoyment collecting specimens. There were shells to be had on the sand, and mermaids’ purses, and bunches of whelks’ eggs, and lovely little stones that looked capable of being polished on the lapidary wheel which Miss Jones had set up in the carpentering-room. For lack of a basket Dona filled her own handkerchief and commandeered Marjorie’s for the same purpose. For the first time since she had left home she looked perfectly happy. Dona’s tastes were always quiet. She did not like hockey practices or any very energetic games. She did not care about mixing with the common herd of her schoolfellows, and much preferred the society of one, or at most two friends. To live in the depths of the country was her ideal.

      Marjorie, on the contrary, liked the bustle of life. While Dona investigated the clumps of seaweed, she plied Elaine with questions about the hospital. Marjorie was intensely patriotic. She followed every event of the war keenly, and was thrilled by the experiences of her soldier father and brothers. She was burning to do something to help—to nurse the wounded, drive a transport wagon, act as secretary to a staff-officer, or even be telephone operator over in France—anything that would be of service to her country and allow her to feel that she had played her part, however small, in the conduct of the Great War. As she watched the sea, she thought not so much of its natural history treasures as of submarines and floating mines, and her heart went out to Bevis, somewhere on deep waters keeping watchful guard against the enemy.

      It was so delightful in the cove that the girls were loath to go. They climbed with reluctance up the steep sandy little path to the cliff. As they neared the top they could hear voices in altercation—a high-pitched, protesting, childish wail, and a blunt, uncompromising, scolding retort. On the road above stood an invalid carriage, piled up with innumerable parcels, and containing also a small boy. He was a charmingly pretty little fellow, with a very pale, delicately oval face, beautiful pathetic brown eyes, and rich golden hair that fell in curls over his shoulders like a girl’s. He was peering out from amidst the host of packages and trying to look back along the road, and evidently arguing some point with the utmost persistence. The untidy servant girl who wheeled the carriage had stopped, and gave a heated reply.

      “It’s no use, I tell you! Goodness knows where you may have dropped it, and if you think I’m going to traipse back you’re much mistaken. We’re late as it is, and a pretty to-do there’ll be when I get in. It’s your own fault for not taking better care of it.”

      “Have you lost anything?” enquired Elaine, as the girls entered the road in the midst of the quarrel.

      “It’s his book,” answered the servant. “He’s dropped it out of the pram somewhere on the way from Whitecliffe; but I can’t go back for it, it’s too far, and we’ve got to be getting home.”

      “What kind of a book was it?” asked Marjorie.

      “Fairy tales. Have you found it?” said the child eagerly. “All about Rumpelstiltzkin and ‘The Goose Girl’ and ‘The Seven Princesses’.”

      “We haven’t found it, but we’ll look for it on our way back. Have you any idea where you dropped it?”

      The little boy shook his head.

      “I was reading it in the town while Lizzie went inside the shops. Then I forgot about it till just now. Oh, I must know what happened when the Prince went to see the old witch!”

      His brown eyes were full of tears and the corners of the pretty mouth twitched.

      “He’s such a child for reading! At it all day long!” explained the servant. “He thinks as much of an old book as some of us would of golden sovereigns. Well, we must be getting on, Eric. I can’t stop.”

      “Look here!” said Dona. “We’ll hunt for the book on our way back to Whitecliffe. If we find it we’ll meet you here to-day fortnight at the same time and give it to you.”

      “And suppose you don’t find it?” quavered the little boy anxiously.

      “I think the fairies will bring it to us somehow. You come here to-day fortnight and see. Cheer oh! Don’t cry!”

      “He wants his tea,” said the servant. “Hold on to those parcels, Eric, or we shall be dropping something else.”

      The little boy put his arms round several lightly-balanced packages, and tried to wave a good-bye to the girls as his attendant wheeled him away.

      “Poor СКАЧАТЬ