Chapter II: Wistaria Cottage

The next week seemed full of delightful bustle to Diana and Chris. Their mother was very busy shopping and arranging about their new home; so she did not see much of them in the daytime. Nurse was packing, and fitting Noel out with English clothes. He continued to be a puzzle and interest to his brother and sister. They found him a good playfellow, but difficult to corner. Nothing seemed to shake his good opinion of himself, and he would never acknowledge himself to be in the wrong. Yet he would talk like a little angel of the Unseen World Above, and had a firm, unshaken belief that God was his Best Friend, and Jesus Christ His Saviour. His Indian ayah had been an earnest Christian, and had taught him as she had been taught herself in the Mission School.

His grandmother regarded him with anxious eyes. She asked his mother one day:

"Are you bringing up that child in the crude modern fashion of letting him think himself of more importance than us older folk?"

"No, Mother, but he has an original mind, and I don't want him snubbed and repressed."

Diana heard this, and pondered over it. Another day her Granny said:

"I still doubt the wisdom of your burying yourself in the country. After your time abroad you will feel the loneliness dreadfully. I couldn't stand the country, and came to town, as you know. You will have very few neighbours."

"So much the better. I shall have my children, and I am sick and tired of society life. It is only a year and then Gregory will be home."

Then seeing Diana standing by, her mother turned to her.

"You won't let me be dull, Diana, will you?"

"Not if I can help it," said Diana fervently; and she there and then registered a vow that she would not.

The day of departure came at last.

Three happy children were packed into a taxi with Nurse, and their grandmother drove with their mother in another, behind them, for Mrs. Greyling was coming to see them off at Paddington.

Granny had some conversation with the guard at the station, and the result was that they got a reserved carriage all to themselves.

The English country was strange to Noel; he was delighted to see some lambs at play in the fields, and he took a great interest in the different churches which appeared.

"What a lot of houses God has!" he remarked. "How tired He must get of going round and round and round to them all! Does He never miss any?"

"God is never tired," Diana said rebukingly, "and of course God is everywhere at the same time."

"Isn't it wonnerful!" said Noel with shining eyes.

"I shall go to church next Sunday, shan't I, Mummy?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Inglefield absently as she read her magazine.

"Mummy," said Diana anxiously, "Miss Carr, when we wished her good-bye, said she hoped we wouldn't forget our lessons. But we're going to have holidays for a little, aren't we?"

"Yes, I think so. I have a good deal to arrange, Diana, but I'm going to look to my little daughter to do a lot of things for me."

Diana flushed with importance, but Chris said bluntly:

"Dinah is only good for writing stories; she always forgets everything else."

Mrs. Inglefield was deep in her magazine again.

"Shut up!" said Diana, stretching out one slim leg to give her brother a kick.

Chris retaliated at once. Noel looked at them in delight.

"Have a fight," he suggested cheerfully.

Chris instantly was on his best behaviour.

"Men don't fight women," he said; "they're too sloppy, girls are."

"I've got as much muscle as you," said Diana, baring her arm to the elbow.

Chris grinned at her, and said no more.

It was a long journey; and all the travellers were glad when it was over. A car was waiting for them at their destination. Mrs. Inglefield arranged that the luggage should follow in a cart, and then they drove along a country road till they came to a pretty village with quaint irregular thatched cottages, a corner general shop and post office, and a square green with a big oak tree in the middle of it.

There was an inn with a sign of a bright yellow dog hanging over it, and it was called "The Golden Dog." The children wanted to stop and look at it closer, but on the car went, and never stopped till it came to a white wooden gate a little way out of the village. There was a drive with trees and shrubs on either side, and then a low white house came in view, and over the porch door was a winter jasmine in full flower, and a red japonica was just coming out and was creeping up the house.

"Not a big house, but it is a cosy one," said Mrs. Inglefield, looking at it with content.

The children were delighted with the pretty little entrance hall and the white railed staircase leading up from the middle of it. Nurse took them straight upstairs. She had lived here before with their grandmother, and knew her way about. There was a day nursery, a bedroom out of it where Noel was going to sleep with Nurse; beyond was a little room for Chris, and Diana was going to sleep in her mother's dressing-room. All the bedrooms were on the same landing, and the windows all looked out the same way. Chris and Diana were surprised at the one flight of stairs after their high London house, but Noel found any stairs a difficulty.

"We never has them in India," he said; "and my legs don't like them."

It was nearly dark when they reached the house, so there was no exploring for the children to do out of doors. But they visited every room inside. The pretty little drawing-room with the big round bay window at one end of it, the long low dining-room with the square table in it, and some oil portraits of Granny's family on the wall. The room they liked best was a little boudoir full of beautiful china and pretty things.

"I s'pose," said Diana wistfully, "that we shan't ever be in the downstair rooms."

"My darling," said her mother quickly, "this is going to be your home. You are welcome to every room in it; but the drawing-room I must have kept for special occasions. I shall be generally in the boudoir, I think, until the summer comes, and then we shall all live out of doors." Diana danced up and down softly on the tips of her toes.

"We shall be full, full, full!" she chanted almost under her breath.

"Full of what?" questioned her mother, with laughing eyes.

"Oh," said Diana, waving her small hands in the air, "full of riches, and joys, and—and love."

Her mother gazed at her contemplatively, but Chris was standing by, and he was eminently practical.

"That's all her story-book stuff," he remarked. "Dinah is always full of words, that's what she's full of."

"Oh, you children!" laughed Mrs. Inglefield. "I suppose I shall get to know you soon. I hope I shall. Now we're all tired. We shall have our supper very soon, and then bed. And to-morrow—well, to-morrow we shall see everything. I'm longing to look at the garden."

The little people were very tired, but they managed to peep inside the kitchen, where a stout woman called Mrs. Tubbs was bustling round and produced some delicious little hot scones from the oven. There was also a very fat girl there, her daughter, whose name was Cassy. She was about fifteen, and wore a funny little white cap perched on the top of her head like a big white rosette. Nurse told them that she and her mother and herself were going to run the house together.

"Lizzie Tubbs and I are old friends, went to the village school here together. I never have liked London. It seems coming home to be back here."

After Granny's big house and many servants, this new home seemed very small and cosy; but the children were almost too tired to talk about it. They had a supper of boiled eggs, scones, and a rice pudding, and then went to bed.

The next morning was sunny and bright. They had their eight o'clock breakfast with Nurse in the nursery, and then to their joy she turned them out into the garden. "Your mother has a headache and is having her breakfast in bed. I knew she'd feel it—she's been overtiring herself these last few weeks, so don't you be making a noise in the garden."

"We shan't be making more noise than the birds," said Diana. "I heard them chattering quite early."

They flew off out of the back door, and found themselves in an old square walled garden. There was a big lawn with a group of trees at the bottom. All round it were beds for flowers. Fruit trees were nailed against the walls.

"It's quite large enough for cricket," said Chris, looking at the lawn with satisfaction in his eyes.

Diana walked on to the trees. She stopped beneath an old medlar tree with low branches almost reaching the ground.

"I shall sit up there and write my stories," she said with a rapt smile.

But Noel had trotted on; he had found between some high shrubs a little twisting path which led to two gates. One gate opened into a small kitchen garden. Noel surveyed this, with his chin resting on the top bar of the gate. It did not appeal to him; he turned to the other, opened it and disappeared. Diana and Chris did not miss him, they were so accustomed to only having each other, that they both climbed up into the medlar tree and began to discuss this wonderful new life of theirs.

"Isn't it perfectly lovely!" Diana said. "And when the summer comes, Chris, think of the garden with the flowers and the trees, and Mums in a white dress trailing about, carrying armfuls of roses, and looking like the fairy queen."

Chris nodded.

"Go on, describe it," he said.

"And that fat girl Cassy bringing out a tray for tea on the lawn with strawberries and ices and all kinds of cakes," went on Diana enthusiastically.

"And me on the lawn with a new hat, in white flannels, and a boy friend trying to bowl me out, and Noel fielding for us," put in Chris.

"And I shall be in a hammock swinging backwards and forwards," said Diana, "and writing stories all day long."

"How about lessons?"

"Oh, don't think of them. They belong to London."

"I say, how thick these walls are! I could walk along the top if I could get there," said Chris. "I think I could climb up if I got up that tree leaning against the wall. Shall I try?"

"I'll come, too."

Diana was equal to adventure at any time; but Nurse appeared and called them in.

"Your mother wants you. Where's Master Noel?"

"We don't know."

"Fetch him in then. I can't wait."

But they could not find him, and after calling for some minutes, they thought he must have gone into the house.

Mrs. Inglefield was waiting for them in her boudoir.

"Good morning, darlings. Come and kiss me. I want to have ten minutes' reading out of what Daddy calls our Order Book for the day. And I want all three of you to come to me every morning at ten o'clock, will you? Where's Noel?"

"We don't know. Is the Order Book the Bible?" asked Diana.

"But that's only for Sunday," objected Chris.

"Oh, no, indeed it is not. But I must have my baby. Ah, here he is! I hear his dear stumping feet."

Up the stairs plodded Noel. He came into the room with shining mysterious eyes.

His mother took him on her lap. His curls were full of cobwebs and his knees and hands very dusty.

"Where have you been, sweetheart?"

"You never tolded me that God was going to live next door to us," was Noel's astounding remark.

"I hope," said his mother gravely, "that God lives nearer to us than that."

"I went down the paff," said Noel in his little breathless way. "I sawed a gate and I went frough, and there was a tiny paff and a wall of trees and anuver little gate, and then one of God's houses like we saw in the train, and it's quite, quite close to us. And there are bumps all over its garden and white stones with letters, and then I opened a very big door and went in."

He paused, and his big blue eyes blazed with excitement.

"It was raver dark, but the sun came through a beautiful window all red and blue and yellow, and there were most wunnerful fings in it. Seats, and books, and stools, and little steps into a high box, and a very big book on a stand, and a stone idol lying on his back with a sword, and some flowers on a table. And does it belong to us, Mums? It's a church, isn't it? I never sawed one in India."

"No, darling, we have been far away from a church these last three years. You are right. It is our church, but it doesn't belong to me especially. But Granny was allowed to have a little gate made into the churchyard when she lived here. It saved her a longer walk."

"And I went into a little room where there were white dresses hanging, and then I found anuver door with steps up, and I went up and up and up near the sky, and there was a tangle of ropes like on board ship, and some great 'normous bells, and I climbed and climbed and I came out right frough anuver door to a wall where I sawed the whole world!"

"You got up to the tower through the belfry," said his mother. "No wonder you are dusty, and it was dangerous, Noel: you mustn't go up there by yourself again. You might have fallen."

"May I go there on Sunday?" demanded Noel.

"Yes, to church. We'll all go together. Now I want you to be quiet, and I'm going to begin the Gospel of St. Matthew, about the little Christmas Babe. I think Diana and Chris might read the verses with me."

The children thought their mother's Bible reading very strange, but interesting. When it was over they were sent into the garden again, and their mother told them she would join them there. Noel was rather quiet till they got out of the house, then he said to Chris rather truculently.

"I s'pose you know I'm one of God's specials?"

"What's that?" asked Chris.

"Well, it's His favrit boy. Jesus Christ and me have the same birfday. God borned me on Christmas Day."

"Oh, I see," said Diana; "but that won't make any difference to God."

"I'm a Christmas child," said Noel, staring at her gravely, "that's why I'm called Noel. It means Christmas. It's a very grand and wunnerful thing to have the same birfday as Jesus Christ."

"Oh, come on!" exclaimed Chris impatiently. "You aren't grand or wonderful, Noel. Why, you hardly know how to run! Race me to the medlar. I'll give you ten yards' start. I'll guess at it."

Noel did his best, but he certainly was not a good runner: he waddled and he panted, and several times nearly tumbled headlong. But the run had taken his thoughts off himself, and when Mrs. Inglefield joined them, he was as eager as the others to see everything, and to hear about the time when his mother lived here as a little girl.

"This is where I used to have my garden," she said, taking them to a corner under the high wall. "I remember quite well when I sowed some little shells in it which I had brought from the seaside, and thought that fishes might come up out of the ground! Would you each like a garden?"

There was an eager assent from all three children.

Mrs. Inglefield began to measure out ground in the large herbaceous border.

"What shall we plant in them?" Diana asked.

"Anything and everything you like. I know a dear old gardener outside the village who is a florist and has a nursery for flowers and plants. Shall we all go and see him one day and ask him for seeds and plants? I will give you three shillings each to lay out in seeds."

"Oh, thank you," cried Diana, "but let's go to-day."

"Yes, don't let us wait," said Chris; "not a minute, as they might be growing."

Their mother laughed.

"Perhaps this afternoon I can manage it; but I have letters to write. It is mail day, and poor Daddy would be dreadfully disappointed if I didn't send him a letter."

"You can give him my big love," said Noel, "and tell him I'm going to be a church gardener."

"Are you?" said his mother, smiling at Diana and Chris, who always listened to Noel's statements with open eyes and mouths.

"Yes," nodded Noel, "I've just made it up, but I aren't going to tell nobody how I'll do it. It's a secret."

He would say no more, but pursed up his button of a mouth till it looked like a marble.

Then Mrs. Inglefield showed them the kitchen garden, and a shed in it where they might keep their gardening tools. An old man was in it, and Mrs. Inglefield spoke to him very pleasantly.

"Well, Foster, I see you have kept the garden in beautiful order," she said. "We're quite old friends. You were here before I went to India."

"A've bin fourteen year in this garden this coming midsummer," said the old man importantly.

"And these are my children, Foster. I'm going to try to make them gardeners."

"For mercy's sake, no!" ejaculated Foster, looking at the children with no loving eye. "Dogs an' childer be the garden's curse!"

"Oh, hush!"

Mrs. Inglefield looked really shocked.

"Of course they will have their own bit of ground and keep to it. But you were a boy once, Foster, and I'm sure you were always fond of flowers."

"He's a nassy old man!" said Noel in a loud voice; and his mother, taking him by the hand, left the kitchen garden and returned to the house.

In the afternoon it was a very happy little party that set out down the village. Diana and Chris were losing their shyness, and were able to chatter as freely as Noel to this new mother of theirs. It was of no use to point out to them the pretty thatched cottages, the geese and ducks upon the green, the lambs at play in the fields, the cows going home to be milked, the pale primroses appearing in the hedges, and the budding fresh green on every tree and bush. All these were delightful no doubt when there was nothing else on hand. With three shillings almost burning a hole in their pockets, was it likely that anything could keep them from their goal?

Along a green lane, up a hill, and then a very pretty whitewashed cottage appeared inside a big gate. Glass greenhouses stretched away on a sunny slope behind it. Mrs. Inglefield made her way to one of these, for she recognized Mr. Henry Sharpe, an old man with a white beard, standing at the door speaking to a workman.

And when he saw her, he came hurrying towards her with outstretched hands.

"Why, if it isn't Miss Bessie! Beg pardon, ma'am, but I do forget your married name. You are always Miss Bessie to me."

"I love to be called by the old name," said Mrs. Inglefield with her happy laugh, "and here is my little flock waiting to be made acquainted with you. They are going to start gardens, Henry, but they can make their own choice. Do you remember how I used to tear up to you when my pocket-money was due? What a lot of money I spent on seeds and flowers!"

"You were a born gardener, that you were!"

"Well, I haven't had a nice garden in India; we have moved about so much."

"Mums," said Chris, "may we see the flowers and choose?"

"Aye, come along then, and tell me what you want. Fruit to eat, flowers to smell, or shrubs to grow?"

"Is your daughter still with you?" asked Mrs. Inglefield.

"She is. She married, was left a widow in the war, and came back to me. My grandson is a big boy and goes to school. If I may say so, ma'am, you've a garden round you worth cultivating. Young fruit trees want a lot of training to make them fruit-bearing!"

Mrs. Inglefield looked at her children and then at the old man.

"You are right," she said, "and I'm going to try to do it, and if I get into difficulties I shall come to you. I think I will leave my children with you, and go into the cottage and have a talk with Bessie."

Mr. Sharpe took the children down between the houses to see the rows and rows of spring flowers and seedlings which were all coming on. He was very different to Foster. He loved children, and they all chattered away to him as if they had known him all their life.

By and by, he brought three very happy children back to their mother. Chris and Diana held fat packets in their hands. Noel had his in his pocket, but his blue eyes were shining mysteriously. They had each made their choice, and certainly Noel's choice seemed the strangest of all.