Wild Heather. L. T. Meade

the room, and there were places for three laid at the table. Opposite to me was a milk pudding, and opposite to Aunt Penelope was a tureen of soup, and opposite to Daddy I really forget what. The boy in buttons came up and helped me to a portion of pudding.

      "I don't like it," I said at once. "Take it away, please, boy."

      Aunt Penelope said: "Leave the pudding where it is, Jonas. Heather, my dear, you must invariably eat what is put before you. I consider milk pudding proper food for little girls, and had this made on purpose for you."

      "But I hate milk puddings, Aunt Penelope," I answered, "and I never, never eat them."

      "The child is accustomed to feed as I do," said my father, speaking in a harsh, grating sort of voice, and avoiding my eyes.

      "Well, in future," said Aunt Penelope, "she will eat as I want her to eat. I must bring her up in my way or not at all, Gordon."

      "Eat your pudding like a darling," said my father, and as Aunt Penelope had really made a most silly speech, for father and I were leaving for London almost immediately, I ate the horrid pudding just to please him.

      When lunch was finished, Aunt Penelope went up to father and spoke to him. He nodded, and I noticed that his face was very pale. Then he said:

      "Perhaps so; perhaps it is the best thing." Then, all of a sudden, he stooped and took me in his arms and pressed me very, very close to his heart, and let me down on the floor rather suddenly. The next minute he had taken half-a-crown out of his pocket.

      "Your Aunt Penelope and I want to have a little private talk," he said, "and I was thinking that you might—or rather your aunt was thinking that you might—go out for a walk with Buttons."

      "His name is Jonas," said Aunt Penelope.

      "I beg his pardon—with Jonas—and he will take you to a toy shop. You have never seen any English toys, and you might buy a new doll with this."

      "I'd like to buy some sort of toy," I answered, "but I don't want dolls—I hate them. Can I buy a parrot, do you think, and would he talk to me? I'd rather like that, and it would be great, great fun to have him when we are sailing back with gentle gales and a prosperous sail to darling India."

      "Well, go and buy something, darling," said father, and I nodded to him brightly and went out of the room.

      Buttons, as I continued to call him in my own heart, for I could not get round his other name of Jonas, was really quite agreeable. He took me away to a high part of the town and very far from the shops, and on to a wild stretch of moor; here he told me all kinds of extraordinary stories about rats and cats and mice and caterpillars. He confided the fact to me that he kept white mice in his attic bedroom, but that if Miss Despard found it out he would be sent about his business on the spot. He implored me to be extremely secret with regard to the matter, and I naturally promised that I would.

      "You need not fear, Buttons," I said. "Ladies, who are true ladies, never repeat things when they are asked not."

      "And you are a real, true lady, missy," was his answer.

      He further promised to enlighten me with regard to the method of producing silk from silk-worms, and told me what fun it was to wind the silk off the big yellow cocoons.

      "I think," I said, "I should like that very much, for if I got a big lot I should have enough silk to make a yellow silk dress for Anastasia."

      "Whoever's she?" asked Buttons.

      "I believe, Buttons," I said, dropping my voice, "that Aunt Penelope is really aunt to her, too, and she is coming on by the next train. She is very nice when she is not a cry-baby, and when she doesn't stick pins into you. She has a somewhat yellow complexion, so, of course, the yellow silk dress would suit her."

      "Yes, miss, I am sure of that," said Buttons.

      He took me so far that I began to get tired, and the sun was going down behind the hills when we returned to the town. We had very nearly reached the little house of Hill View when I remembered Daddy's half-crown, and that I had never bought a toy.

      "It's too late to-day, miss," said Buttons, "but you can come out walking with me to-morrow and we can get it then."

      I laughed.

      "I can get it in London, I expect," I said. "London's a great big place. Oh, I do hope," I continued, "that I haven't been keeping darling Daddy waiting!"

      When Buttons opened the little gate of Hill View I ran up the neatly-kept avenue and pounded with my hands on the glass panels of the door. It was Aunt Penelope herself who opened it.

      "Where's Daddy?" I said. "Am I late? Oh, I hope I am not! And has Anastasia come?"

      Aunt Penelope looked quite gentle. She took my hand and led me into the drawing-room. The drawing-room was bigger than the dining-room, but was still a very tiny room.

      "Now, Heather," she said, "I have something to say to you."

      "Where's Daddy? I want Daddy," I said. "Where is he?"

      I began to tremble for fear of I did not know what. The terror of something hitherto unknown came over me.

      "He sent you his best love and his good-bye, and he will come and see you again before he sails."

      Aunt Penelope tried to speak kindly, although she had not by nature a kind voice. I stared at her with all my might and main.

      "He went away without me?" I said.

      "He had to, dear. Now, Heather, I can quite understand that this is a trial for you, but you've got to bear it. Your father will come and see you again before he returns to India, and meanwhile you are my little girl and will live with me."

      I stood perfectly still, as though I were turned into stone. Aunt Penelope put out her hand to touch me, and just at that moment the parrot cried, "Stop knocking at the door!" Aunt Penelope tried to draw me towards her, she tried to lift me on to her knee.

      "Come," she said, "come—be a good little girl. I shall try to be good to you."

      I raised my hand and slapped her with extreme violence on the face.

      "I hate you and all aunts, and I will never, never be good to you or to anyone!"

      And then, somehow or other, I think I lost consciousness, for I cannot remember, even after this lapse of years, what immediately followed.

CHAPTER III

       Table of Contents

      The next thing that I recall was also connected with that most terrible day. I was lying on a tiny bed, a sort of cot bed, in a very small room. There was a fire about the size of a pocket-handkerchief burning in the wee-est grate I have ever looked at. A woman was sitting by the fire with her back to me, the woman was knitting and moving her hands very rapidly. She wore a little cap on her head with long black lappets to it. I noticed how ugly the cap was and how ugly the woman herself looked as she sat and knitted by the fire. I suppose some little movement on my part caused her to turn round, for she came towards me and then I observed that it was Aunt Penelope.

      "That's a good girl," she said; "you are better now, Heather."

      A sort of instinct came over me at that moment. Instead of bursting into a storm of rage and tears, I stayed perfectly quiet. I looked her calmly in the face. I remembered every single thing that had happened. Father had gone, and I was left behind. I said, in a gentle tone:

      "I am much better, Aunt Penelope."

      "Come," said Aunt Penelope, speaking cheerfully, "you shall have some nice bread and milk presently, and then I will undress you myself and put you to bed. Lie quite quiet now like a good child, while I go down to prepare the bread and milk."

      I made no answer, but lay still, my eyes fixed on her face. She turned