Chapter XXI: How Mousey Was Welcomed by Her Relations

THE short journey seemed quite a long one to the little girl, so impatient was she to reach the end of it. As the train slowed into the familiar station she scanned the figures on the platform with eager, expectant eyes. After all, it was not Aunt Eliza but Uncle Dick who had come to meet her. There he was, a broad smile of welcome on his jovial countenance, and with a crimson carnation in the buttonhole of his coat, placed there in order to smarten himself up for the occasion.

"Well, Mousey, here you are at last! The train is three minutes late. How well you look, my dear! Eliza couldn't spare the time to come because it's Monday—washing day, as usual. We thought we wouldn't let the children know you were coming, so they've gone for a ramble in the woods; and won't they be surprised when they return and find you there! If they'd known, they'd all have wanted to be here to meet you."

Whilst he was entering into these explanations, he lifted Mousey from the carriage and kissed her again and again.

"Is everyone well, Uncle Dick?" she asked when he gave her an opportunity to speak.

"Quite well, and longing to see you, my dear. What luggage have you? One box? Very well. Come along."

Mr. Dawson led the way to the luggage van at the back of the train, Mousey following. She pointed out her box, which he raised to his shoulder without any effort; and having given up her ticket, they left the station.

"I suppose we shall walk, Uncle Dick?" Mousey said; "but you can't carry my box all the way."

"No, my dear; certainly not. And we're not going to walk. What do you say to that?" indicating a market-cart, with a little brown pony between the shafts. "A new purchase of mine," he proceeded, as he stowed away her box in the body of the cart; "you didn't know I possessed a carriage, did you?"

"Is it really yours, Uncle Dick?"

"Yes, really. I bought the whole turn-out only a few weeks since, as I had the opportunity of getting a good bargain; and I believe I shall make it pay by driving around to the better-class houses in the town, and selling vegetables at the doors. Now then."

He lifted Mousey up in front of the cart, and taking his place by her side, gathered up the reins, and chirruped to the pony, which immediately started off at a trot. The little girl's face was beaming with happiness, for a drive was a pleasure she had not expected.

"What is the pony called?" she inquired.

"Billy," was the response. "He's very quiet and good-tempered, and he goes well, doesn't he?"

"He does, indeed," Mousey answered; "but I'm afraid we must be rather a heavy weight for him."

"Well, I dare say I am a good weight," her uncle replied, laughing, "but I don't suppose you are very heavy. However, Billy is not overburdened. Did you leave your cousin well, Mousey?"

"Yes, Uncle Dick; but he says he will miss me very much."

"I have no doubt he will. How is the dissatisfied youth—John Monday, I mean?"

Mousey sighed, scarcely knowing what answer to make. The bright face clouded over, and she shook her head sorrowfully.

"Poor John Monday is very unhappy," she said, "and Cousin Robert has been very angry with him."

"Perhaps Mr. Harding is rather a difficult master to serve; but what has the boy done to arouse his anger?"

Mousey explained, whilst her uncle looked exceedingly grave. It hurt the good man to think that his gift to the boy had brought him trouble; he almost felt as though he had put temptation in his way; but then, he reflected, perhaps what had happened might prove a wholesome lesson to him.

"I sincerely trust the poor lad may be given strength to follow the new path he has chosen," he said, as Mousey finished her tale. "I am glad to hear he has found a friend in that Mr. Bradley."

They had left the town behind them by this time, and were in the country road which led direct to Mr. Dawson's home. Billy, trotting along at a fine pace, soon brought them to their journey's end.

A mist rose to Mousey's eyes as she caught sight of her aunt's figure in the doorway of the house, and she gave a little sob of delight as a pair of motherly arms lifted her down from her seat by Uncle Dick's side, and a tender kiss of welcome was pressed on her trembling lips.

"My dear child, how good it is to see you again!" cried Aunt Eliza, as she led her niece into the sitting-room, and, holding her at arm's length, looked at her with a kindly, critical glance. "Why, how you've grown! What, tears!"

"I can't help crying because I'm so happy," Mousey explained, with a little laugh, which, in spite of all her efforts, ended in a sob, "so very happy! Oh, you can't think how much I have missed you, and longed for a sight of you all these months!"

"But Cousin Robert has been kind to you, hasn't he?" Mrs. Dawson asked somewhat anxiously. "You have had everything you could possibly want at Haughton, haven't you?"

"Oh, yes!" Mousey returned; "but it's so nice to see you again, and to think that I am to stay here for a while."

"You shall remain with us till the end of the holidays if Cousin Robert is willing. I shall want you to tell me all about yourself, and your school life, and your friends by-and-by; but now, come and take off your hat before the children return."

Mousey followed her aunt upstairs. First, she begged to be allowed to take a peep at baby, who was having his afternoon nap in his little crib in his mother's bedroom, and pressed a gentle kiss on his rosy cheek; then her aunt led the way into the room which Mousey was to share with Lily, the eldest of her cousins, where her box was awaiting her, having been carried upstairs by Uncle Dick. After Mousey had bathed her face in cold water, and removed the traces of tears and dust, she unpacked her box, and showed her new clothes to her aunt, explaining how Maria had gone with her to purchase them, and how very kind she always was.

"It strikes me you have made many friends at Haughton already, my dear," her aunt said smilingly.

"Oh, yes, indeed!" the little girl agreed earnestly. "But Maria was my first friend there; she takes me to church with her on Sunday evenings. You know, Cousin Robert never goes."

"I was sorry to hear it," Mrs. Dawson said gravely. "It would have made me very unhappy if I had known that when you first went there; but it hasn't made any difference to you, has it, my dear? You remember your mother's teaching, do you not?"

"Yes, Aunt Eliza. Sometimes I read the Bible to Cousin Robert—that is, when he asks me."

Mrs. Dawson looked surprised at hearing this, but she asked no more questions then, and suggested that they should go downstairs.

Very shortly afterwards the children returned in hot haste, their father having met them and told them who had arrived. There followed o much kissing, and talking, and laughing, that Mousey felt quite bewildered; and the noise awakening baby, he began to cry, refusing to be comforted until his mother brought him down into the sitting-room.

"I don't suppose he remembers me," Mousey said after she had talked to him, and coaxed him to smile as he sat on Mrs. Dawson's lap, "for it's quite five months since he saw me, and that must seem a long time to a baby, I'm sure."

Whether baby remembered her or not, he was evidently pleased with his cousin's appearance, for he stretched out his chubby arms, and was supremely happy when Mousey shifted him from his mother's knees to her own.

Everyone made so much of Mousey that she felt almost glad of the parting which had brought about such a happy reunion. There were so many questions for her to answer that at last her aunt declared she was beginning to look quite weary, and begged the children to give her a little peace.

"I am not in the least tired," Mousey declared; and she spoke the truth, for she was far too excited to feel fatigued just then.

"I want Mousey to come around the gardens with me to see the improvements I've made since she was here," Uncle Dick said later on.

She was running to fetch her hat, when a sudden memory flashed across her mind, and she exclaimed repentantly—

"I had very nearly forgotten. Cousin Robert told me to be sure and ask you to send him a postcard to say I had arrived safely, Uncle Dick."

"I have already written to him, my dear," Mr. Dawson returned; "I thought he would expect to hear in the morning. You need not look so grave; no harm has been done by your forgetfulness."

"No, but I am sorry I forgot," Mousey responded in a somewhat subdued tone.

She fetched her hat, and made a tour of the gardens, noting every alteration which had been made. Then they paid a visit to Billy in the stable, and the little girl made friends with him, and patted his mealy nose.

At last the happy day came to an end, and the children all retired to rest. Mousey was really very tired, though she had not realised the fact until now. The minute after she had laid herself down by Lily's side her weariness overcame her; and when Mrs. Dawson looked into the room a short while later she found that both little girls were sleeping peacefully.