Dwell Deep | Page 6

he was trying to draw me out, and resolved to say as little as
possible.

'Ah! you wait till you're in the thick of it, and see the scarlet jackets
flying round. All the girls here lose their heads, and their hearts, too,
for the matter of that. I was telling that fellow Stroud to-day that if he
means anything, he had better cut in at once and get it settled, for
Constance will have nothing to say to him a few weeks later.'
I said nothing; I had noticed Mr. Stroud's attentions to Constance, and
had drawn my own conclusions; but when Kenneth went on in the same
strain declaring that Constance would keep him hanging on till she saw
any she liked better, I turned upon him rather sharply,--
'I am very thankful you are not my brother. I think it is a shame of you
to talk so, and I won't listen to any more of it!'
He laughed, and as we were now entering the village there was little
more conversation between us till we had reached the small general
shop. Mrs. Walters came out to us in a great state of excitement, and
Roddy, who had nearly fallen asleep again, woke up and began to cry at
the top of his voice.
'I'm sure I don't know what to do with him,' she complained; 'he runs
away from school whenever he get a chance, and last Sunday he breaks
into my neighbour's chicken-house, and smashes a whole set of eggs
that was being 'atched! School do keep him a bit quiet in the week, but
Sundays he's just rampageous!'
'Does he go to Sunday School?' I asked.
'There's no Sunday School in our village, miss; the bigger ones they
goes to the next parish; but it's two good miles, and my Roddy he can't
walk so fur. Now thank the leddy and gentleman, you scamp, for
bringin' you home!'
Roddy turned his big blue eyes upon us, then suddenly held out his
arms to me.
'I'll kiss her, for she callied me much nicer nor the gempleum!'

I gave the little fellow a hug. He looked such a baby in his mother's
arms, and I felt quite drawn to him.
'I love little children so,' I said to Kenneth as we were walking home. 'I
wish there was a Sunday School in this place. I should like Roddy in
my class.'
'You might start a Sunday School,' suggested Kenneth gravely. 'Our old
rector will let you do exactly as you like, I am sure.'
'I wonder if I could,' I said reflectively; 'just a class for the little ones,
and those that can't walk as far as the bigger, stronger ones. I should be
glad if I could do something on Sunday.'
Then remembering to whom I was speaking, I checked myself and said
no more on the subject, though my thoughts were busy.
When we came up to the house we found that afternoon tea was going
on under the old elms on the lawn. Mrs. Forsyth was in a low
wicker-chair with her work, Constance was pouring out tea, and Nelly
was swinging lazily in a hammock, whilst Captain Gates and Mr.
Stroud were making themselves generally agreeable.
'Have you two been taking a walk together?' asked Nelly as we
approached. 'I have been hunting for you everywhere, Hilda. Lady
Walker has been calling, and wanted to see you; she used to know your
mother.'
'How warm you look!' observed Constance, eyeing me, I felt, with
disapproval. 'What have you been doing?'
I sat down on the garden seat, glad to rest, and Kenneth, leaning against
the tree opposite, began:--
'Well now, I will give you a true account of her. She felt so disgusted
with our frivolity at lunch, that she went out to get away from us; she
wandered on dreaming her dreams and building her castles in the air,
mourning over our depravity, and lamenting that she had no scope with

us for all her benevolent projects, until she found herself out upon the
moor, whereupon she looked round, and after a time found Roddy
Walters asleep. It was an opportunity to act the Good Samaritan; she
hoisted him up into her arms in spite of his howls, and insisted upon
carrying him home. And I met her panting and struggling with him in
old Drake's meadows.'
'But why didn't you let him walk, Hilda?' interrupted Nelly.
'He had hurt his foot, poor little fellow--it was impossible; even your
brother saw that, for he carried him the rest of the way himself.'
'And now,' pursued Kenneth gravely, 'the upshot is that she is so aghast
at the state of heathenism and wickedness that the village children are
in, that she is going to