"Her name is Magdalen," said Angela, removing the little black hat and smoothing the hair; but Lena backed against her, and let her hand hang limp in Pearl's patronising clasp. Nor would she amalgamate with the children, nor even eat or drink except still beside "Sister," as she called Angela. In fact, she was so thoroughly worn out and tired, as well as shy and frightened, that Angela's attention was wholly given to her and she could only be put to bed, but not in the nursery, which, as Angel said, seemed to her like a den of little wild beasts. So she was deposited in the chamber and bed hastily prepared for the unexpected guest; and even there, being wakeful and feverish from over-fatigue, there was no leaving her alone, and Gertrude, after seeing her safely installed, could only go down with the hope that she would be able to spare her slave or nurse, which was it? by dinner-time.
"Who is that child so like?" said Dolores, in their own room.
"Very like somebody, but I can't tell whom," said Agatha. "Who did you say she is?"
"I cannot say I exactly know," said Dolores. "I believe she is the daughter of Fulbert Underwood's mate, on a sheep-farm in Queensland, and that as her mother died when she was born, she has been always under the care of this Angela, living in the Sisterhood there."
"Not a Sister?"
"Not under vows, certainly. I never saw her before, but I believe she is rather a funny flighty person, and that Fulbert was afraid at one time that she would marry this child's father."
"Is he alive?"
"Which? Fulbert died four or five years ago, and I think the little girl's father must be dead, for she is in mourning."
"There's something very charming about her-Miss Underwood."
"Yes there is. They all seem to be very fond of her, and yet to laugh about her, and never to be quite sure what she will do next."
"Did I not hear of her being so useful among the Australian black women?"
"No one has ever managed those very queer gins so well; and she is an admirable nurse too, they say. I am very glad to have come in her way."
They did not, however, see much of her that evening. The head master of the Grammar School and his wife, the head mistress of the High School, and a few others had been invited to meet them; and Angela could only just appear at dinner, trusting to a slumber of her charge, but, on coming out of the dining-room, a wail summoned her upstairs at once, and she was seen no more that night.
However, with morning freshness, Lena showed herself much less farouche, and willing to accept the attentions of Mr. Underwood first, and, later, of his little daughter Pearl-a gentle, elder sisterly person, who knew how to avert the too rough advances of Dick- and made warm friends over the pink cockatoo; while Awdrey was entranced by the beauties of the budgerigars.
Robina had been informed by telegram, and came up from Minsterham with her husband, looking just like his own father, and grown very broad. He was greatly interested in the lecture, and went off to it, to consider whether it would be desirable for the Choristers' School. Lancelot had, of course, to go, and Angela declared that she must be brought up to date, and rejoiced that Lena was able to submit to be left with the other children under the protection of Mrs. Underwood, who averred that she abhorred electricity in all its forms, and that if Lance were induced to light the town, or even the shop by that means, he must begin by disposing of her by a shock.
It was an excellent lecture, only the two sisters hardly heard it. They could think of nothing but that they were once more sitting side by side in the old hall, where they had heard and shared in so many concerts, on the gala days of their home life.
The two lecturers, as well as the rest of the party, were urgently entreated to stay to tea at the High School; but when the interest of the new arrival was explained, the sisters and brother were released to go home, Canon Harewood remaining to content their hostesses.
CHAPTER XXII-ANGEL AND BEAR
"Enough of science and of art!
Close up those barren leaves,
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives."
- WORDSWORTH.
A telegram had been handed to Mr. Mayor, which he kept to himself, smiling over it, and he-at least-was not taken utterly by surprise at the sight of a tall handsome man, who stepped forward with something like a shout.
"Angel! Lance! Why, is it Robin, too?"
"Bear, Bear, old Bear, how did you come?"
"I couldn't stop when I heard at Clipstone that Angel was here, so I left Phyllis and the kid with her mother. Oh, Angel, Angel, to meet at Bexley after all!"
They clung together almost as they had done when they were the riotous elements of the household, while Lance opened the front door, and Robina, mindful of appearances, impelled them into the hall, Bernard exclaiming, "Pratt's room! Whose teeth is it?"
"Don't you want Wilmet to hold your hands and make you open your mouth?" said Lance, laughing.
Gertrude, who had already received the Indian arrival, met Angela, who was bounding up to see to her charge, with, "Not come in yet! She is gone out with the children quite happily, with Awdrey's doll in her arms. Come and enjoy each other in peace."
"In the office, please," said Angela. "That is home. We shall be our four old selves."
Lance opened the office door, and gave a hint to Mr. Lamb, while they looked at each other by the fire.
Bernard was by far the most altered. The others were slightly changed, but still their "old selves," while he was a grave responsible man, looking older than Lancelot, partly from the effects of climate; but Angela saw enough to make her exclaim, "Here we are! Don't you feel as if we were had down to Felix to be blown up?"
"Not a bit altered," said Bernard, looking at the desks and shelves of ledgers, with the photographs over the mantelpiece-Felix, Mr. Froggatt, the old foreman, and a print of Garofalo's Vision of St. Augustine, hung up long ago by Felix, as Lance explained, as a token of the faith to which all human science and learning should be subordinated.
"A declaration of the Pursuivant," said Angela. "How Fulbert did look out for Pur! I believe it was his only literature."
"Phyllis declares," said Bernard, "that nothing so upsets me as a failure in Pur's arrival."
"And this is Pur's heart and centre!" said Robina.
"Only," added Angela, "I miss the smell of burnt clay that used to pervade the place, and that Alda so hated."
"Happily the clay is used up," said Lance. "I could not have brought Gertrude and the children here if the ceramic art, as they call it, had not departed. Cherry was so delighted at our coming to live here. She loved the old struggling days."
"Fulbert said he never felt as if he had been at home till he came here. He never took to Vale Leston."
"Clement and Cherry have settled in very happily," said Robina, "with convalescent clergy in the Vicarage."
"I say, Angel, let us have a run over there," cried Bernard, "you and I together, for a bit of mischief."
"Do, do let us! Though this is real home, our first waking to perception and naughtiness, it is more than Vale Leston. We seem to have been up in a balloon all those five happy years."
"A balloon?" said Bernard. "Nay, it seems to me that till they were over, I never thought at all except how to get the most rollicking and the finest rowing out of life. It seems to me that I had about as much sense as a green monkey."
"Something sank in, though," said Lance; "you did not drift off like poor Edgar."
"Some one must have done so," said Angela. "I wanted to ask you, Lancey, about advertising for my little Lena's people; the Bishop said I ought."
"I say," exclaimed Bernard, "was it her father that was Fulbert's mate? I thought he was afraid of your taking up with him. You didn't?"
"No, no. Let me tell you, I want you to know. Field and a little wife came over from Melbourne prospecting for a place to sit down in. They had capital, but the poor wife was worn out and ill, and after taking them in for a night, Fulbert liked them. Field was an educated man and a gentleman, and Ful offered them to stay there in partnership. So they stayed, and by and by this child was born, and the poor mother died. The two great bearded men came galloping over to Albertstown from Carrigaboola, with this new born baby, smaller than even Theodore was, and I had the care of her from the very first, and Field used to ride over and see the little thing."