Esther's Charge: A Story for Girls

"I will tell her," answered Esther. "I think we could come quite soon. There will not be so very much to do, and if we should leave anything behind, we can easily fetch it away afterwards. I will talk to Genefer about that. She and I will do the packing, you know."

"Of course, of course; the 'little manager' will manage all that. I shall soon be managed out of house and home, I expect. What a wide field the Crag will give to such an enterprising little woman!"

"You are teasing me now," said Esther, laughing, and bending down she kissed him on the lips, and then talking her hat, ran lightly down the hill towards home, a very warm feeling in her heart towards the redoubtable owner, who had once been the very terror of her life.

Half-way down she encountered the boys, who were running to meet her, brimful of excitement.

"O Essie! Essie! is it true?"

"Are we going to live up there?"

"Did he really ask us too? Oh, won't it be jolly? Won't it be scrumptious? Aunt Saint said you'd gone to settle it all. Do say that it's all settled now."

"Yes, quite," answered Esther; "Mr. Trelawny wants us to go as soon as ever we can. He says the house seems so empty and lonely now that he can't read or go about or amuse himself as he used to do. And he wants Mr. Earle so much more now; that is another reason. You must be very good and nice, boys, and not give trouble. We mustn't worry him now that he's ill."

"We won't," cried Pickle earnestly. "We'll be as good as gold. I mean, we'll try to be as good as we can. – Won't we, Puck?"

"We will," answered that young man solemnly. "I should like Mr. Trelawny to like us. Perhaps, then, he'll let us stay always. I mean till Crump – no, till father comes back or we go to school. I don't like it when Mr. Earle is angry with us, and I don't want Uncle Bob to be either."

"I think it'll be awfully nice," said Pickle, as they wended their way home again through the wood. "I shall try and help Uncle Bob too. Aunt Saint said he wanted you, Essie, because you would be like a pair of eyes to him. I know why he thought that. You're always doing kind things for other people, and you don't care about yourself if other people are happy. I just know if I were to be ill, I should like to have you come and see me and sit with me. It can't be just because you're a girl, for that Pretty Polly is a girl, and she thinks herself very good too, but I'd sooner have a toad come to sit with me than her."

"O Pickle, don't talk like that!"

"I'd twice as soon have the toad," cried Puck; "toads are nice things, and they have such funny eyes – like precious stones. She's just a prig, and I can't abide her. We won't ever ask her up to play at the Crag. I shall tell Uncle Bob about her, and he won't let her come then."

"That would be unkind," said Esther gently. "I don't think we ought to be unkind to Prissy. She tries to be very good, you know, and she is always obedient."

Pickle and Puck were silent for a minute. They had been thinking, very seriously for them, about obedience of late. They had recognized their own failure, and had been sorry for it. In the old days they had taken this matter too lightly, but they were learning better now.

"Well," said Puck at length, "she may be obedient, but she's nasty too. You're obedient and nice, Essie. I like you. But if you say we've got to ask Prissy, we will; only I hope Uncle Bob will laugh the priggishness out of her if she comes."

Great excitement reigned in the little house during the next days, for there seemed no reason to postpone the arrangement if it were really to be carried out. Esther and Genefer were busy putting away household things, and packing up personal belongings. The boys flitted hither and thither, helping and hindering, and made daily excursions to the Crag to get news of Mr. Trelawny, and tell him how they were getting on.

Lessons were not to be recommenced till the party got up to their new quarters, and the cart came daily to fetch away boxes that were ready for removing.

Milly and Bertie were rather sorrowful at the thought of losing their playmates, but Puck brought good news from the Crag.

"Uncle Bob says you may come up every Saturday afternoon and play with us. He doesn't think we shall go sailing in the Swan very often now, because the sea gets rough in the winter; but there are no end of jolly things to do up there, and Uncle Bob says we may have you up whenever you can come on Saturdays. Esther can ask Prissy too, if she wants her, but you are our friends. Prissy never cares to play with us."

This was delightful news, for the Crag had never, been anything but a mysterious region of wonders to the rectory children. Mr. Trelawny had sometimes asked the parents to send them; but Mrs. Polperran did not entirely approve of Mr. Trelawny, and she was half afraid lest some harm should come to her brood through his love of practical joking. It was very exciting to think of visiting there now, and seeing all the strange things that were said to exist in that house.

"Is he really a magician or a wizard?" asked Milly with bated breath.

"I don't believe he is," answered Pickle. "I believe he's just a nice, jolly old gentleman; only he's very clever, and people don't understand, and call him names. I don't believe there are any magicians left now. I believe he's just the same as other people."

"But the pickled skeletons in the tanks," urged Milly.

"I don't believe there are any really," answered Puck, with a note of regret in his voice; "I don't think he pickles anything except specimens that go into bottles. We shall find out all about it when we go to live there. But I don't believe he's a bit of a magician, and Essie doesn't think so either. She isn't a bit afraid of him now."

The day for the flitting arrived in due course, and the carriage and a last cart were sent down to the Hermitage to convey Mrs. St. Aiden and her belongings. Genefer remained behind to shut up the house, and the boys preferred to climb the hill by the path through the wood. But Esther drove up with her mother by the zigzag road, and as the great easy carriage rolled smoothly along, Mrs. St. Aiden said with a little sigh, —

"We must persuade your Uncle Robert to go driving with us, Esther. He is one of those men who have never cared to drive, but it would do him good, I am sure. This is a most comfortable carriage. It will be delightful to have the use of it, and I am sure it will do him good to get out as much as possible."

"I dare say he would drive with you, mama," answered Esther. "We will try to coax him. But I don't think anybody would care very much about driving all alone."

Mr. Trelawny was standing in the hall to welcome them. He had a stick in his hand, but he laid it down and drew Esther towards him and kissed her.

"You will be a substitute for that now, my little maid," he said. "We are going to have some good times together, are we not?"

The boys came rushing in at this moment, helter-skelter, bringing an atmosphere of life and jollity with them.

"Uncle Bob!" cried Puck, rushing up and seizing his hand, almost gasping and choking in his eagerness and excitement, "we've thought of such a plan for you. We'll do lessons by ourselves for a little while, and Mr. Earle shall make you an electric eye to see with, till your own gets quite well."

CHAPTER XII

A NEW CHARGE

Esther found out very soon that Mr. Trelawny's threat of making her his "little white slave" was not altogether an idle one.

She had laughed when he spoke the words upon a former visit to the Crag, but she soon found that he did take up a great deal of her time and care, and very willingly was the service rendered that his helplessness made needful.

It seemed to be less irksome to Mr. Trelawny to be led about by the little girl than by any other person – even Mr. Earle; and, of course, a good deal of Mr. Earle's time was now taken up by lessons.

Esther found that her regular studies were very much interrupted by the demands made upon her time by Mr. Trelawny; but on the other hand, she thought she was learning as much with him, as though she had been in the schoolroom all the time. His mind seemed like a perfect storehouse of information; and as he took his leisurely walks abroad, he would teach Esther all manner of things – history, geography, physiology, geology, and all sorts of things with long names that Esther never learned. All she knew was that she was learning interesting things every day of her life, and that the world seemed to be growing a bigger and more beautiful and wonderful place than she had had the least idea of before.

Mr. Trelawny was a wonderful teacher; but he expected his lessons to be understood and remembered. Again and again he would put a sudden question to his little companion, asking her about something he had told her on a previous occasion, or making sure that she understood the bearing of some new piece of information he was giving her. Esther soon conquered her first shyness, and was not a bit afraid to ask questions and to say when she did not understand. She found that Mr. Trelawny, though not quite so well used to teaching as Mr. Earle, was never impatient or vexed at being asked to explain himself. What did vex him was for anybody to make believe to understand a thing he was saying, and then show later on that it had not been understood at all.

As long as the fine weather lasted there were delightful things to do. Sometimes it was a long drive, which Mrs. St. Aiden generally shared; sometimes a sail in the Swan with Mr. Earle and the boys, which was always a great pleasure. Then there was a great excitement for a few days in the place, for the mackerel had come into the bay in shoals; and the Swan went out with the other boats, and the little Polperrans went in her, and they all had spinners, and caught mackerel by the dozen, and fine fun they had out of it till the fish disappeared as suddenly as they had come.

Mr. Trelawny was getting quite strong again, but he was still forbidden to make any attempt to use his eyes, and went about with a bandage and a shade. Perhaps it was this that made him stoop a little in his walk, as he had never done before. Certainly his hair had begun to grow white rather quickly. He had never seemed to be an old man before. Esther had never thought of him as old until just lately, although he used to speak of himself in a half-joking way as an old fellow; but he did begin to look old now, though he seemed strong and well in himself.

He liked to be out of doors as much as possible, and Esther was nearly always his companion. She found this interesting in many ways. One was that she had her lessons in a new and interesting fashion from him. Another was that she got to know a great many fresh people, and heard a great many interesting things about them.

Mr. Trelawny owned a good deal of land all round the Crag, and the people who lived in the cottages were his tenants. He had known them all his life, and they had known him. There had been Trelawnys at the Crag for several hundreds of years. Esther found out that Mr. Trelawny, in spite of his gruffness, was very much respected and loved. She liked very much to go with him to see the cottagers and fisher folk, and listen whilst they talked to him and told him all about themselves, their troubles, their bits of good luck, their perplexities with their sons and daughters, and all the different things which went to make up the sum of their simple lives.

She grew fond of the simple people herself, who always had a smile and soft word for "the little lady." She thought it must be very nice to have Mr. Trelawny's power to help them in times of need, to advise them in their troubles, to rebuke those who wanted a sharp reproof, and to warn those who were in danger of falling into bad habits or idle ways.

Often after these visits Mr. Trelawny would talk to Esther a great deal about the family they had just visited, telling her its history, what sort of people they had shown themselves in the past, and what kind of treatment they had required.

Some children might have been bored by this sort of thing, but Esther was never bored. It seemed to her very interesting, and she always listened with great attention.

"You must help me at Christmas time this year, little woman," he said one crisp December day, as they were walking home together. "There are a lot of old fashions we keep up at Christmas here. It's one of the relics of old times that no Trelawny has had the disposition to do away with. Some people say that the time has gone by for that sort of thing, and that it is obsolete and only a form of pauperization. Perhaps they may be right. But in my day I shall change nothing. I'm too much the old Tory for that. And you will help me this year, won't you? You ought to see how everything is done."

"I should like to," answered Esther eagerly; "what is it you do?"

"Give a great feed – dinner, the people call it – in the hall at the Crag, to which every tenant and his family is entitled to come, even to the babies, if the mothers choose to bring them. No questions are asked, nobody is turned away. Every tenant has the right to be there, and to eat and drink to his heart's content. Five o'clock is the hour for the feed, and after that they sing carols or old songs and make speeches. I come in and drink a glass with them, as the Trelawnys have always done; and when they can eat and drink no more, there is a great giving of presents all round. Bran pies or a Christmas-tree for the children, and clothing or nets or tools for the grown folks. We keep it up till ten o'clock, and then sing 'God save the Queen,' and send them all off to their homes. It used to be done on Christmas Eve or on Christmas Day, but now it's on Boxing Day, as we think that home is the right place for folks on Christmas Day itself. You will have to be my right hand, little woman, in all the preparations we have to make."

Esther was skipping along gaily: her face was aglow.