The Adventurous Seven | Page 9

calling him
hard names for his eagerness to rid himself of a heavy burden and in
praising his generosity in making the way so easy for the seven to go to
their father.
Just at the last it had been quite hard to say goodbye to the old home at
Beechleigh and all the people they had known there. So standing on the
deck of the ocean-going liner Nealie was thankful that it was all over,
and that at last she was free from the necessity to say any more
goodbyes. Any more save one, that is, for there was still the farewell to
Mr. Runciman to be faced, and she was dreading this with a very real
shrinking as she stood so quietly by his side, while the others ran up
and down exploring their new quarters and exclaiming in delight at the
bustle and novelty all around them.
"Now mind, Cornelia, if when you land at Sydney you find that you
have not sufficient money, you must not hesitate to cable to me, and I
shall be most willing to cable you back what you may require," said Mr.
Runciman impressively, and because of the kindness in his tone Nealie
forgave him calling her Cornelia.
"Thank you very much, but I am sure that we ought not to need any
more, and I will be very, very careful not to waste our funds," she said,
smiling up at him, but her lips quivered a little in spite of her
determination to maintain a Spartan-like control of her emotions.
"Money melts when you are travelling, and you are all such babies in
the matter of finance. Let me see what I have in my pocket," he said,
thrusting his hand in and tugging out a bulky purse from some
mysterious inner depths. "Three, five, seven, ten. Yes, I can let you
have ten pounds. Put it in your pocket and say nothing about it. If you
do not need it for your journey you can keep it as a little gift from me
and spend it for your own pleasure."
"You are so very kind, I cannot think what we should have done

without you in getting away; you seem to have forgotten nothing, and I
am sure that Father will be most grateful to you," she said, looking at
him with so much trust and affection in her eyes that his conscience
pricked him dreadfully for what he knew to be his selfish eagerness to
shift a heavy burden on to the shoulders of someone else.
[Illustration: SAYING GOODBYE TO MR. RUNCIMAN]
"It is no great virtue to be kind to you, child; indeed it would be a hard
heart that would be anything else," he said in a deeply moved tone; and
because the bell began to ring then, in warning to people to leave the
ship, he took both her hands in his, and, leaning down, kissed her on
the forehead; then with a nod in the direction of the others, who at the
sound of the bell had gathered round to bid him a civil goodbye, he
disappeared down the gangway and was lost to view in the crowd.
"The old chappy cut up quite decent at the last. I expect it was that little
poem of mine which fetched him," said Rumple, who was strutting
round like a peacock in a new suit of clothes and feeling himself
someone of importance.
"Hush, dear, don't call him names, I do not like it," said Nealie with
gentle dignity, while she struggled with her tears.
"Are you crying over saying goodbye to Mr. Runciman?" asked Sylvia
in a wondering tone. "I thought we all made up our minds ages ago that
he was really an unmitigated nuisance?"
"We have had to suspend judgment a bit of late in his direction," put in
Rupert, coming to the rescue, for he guessed that Nealie did not want to
talk just then, not even in defence of Mr. Runciman.
"I think there is more in him than we know," said Rumple in a
patronizing tone. "At any rate he had the sense to like my verses, and
that shows that he is not altogether callous; he even said that it was
clever of me to find such a nice rhyme for Runciman."
"How does that first line go?" asked Rupert, still intent on shielding

Nealie, who had walked to the side, and, with tear-blinded eyes, was
watching the gangways being lifted.
Rumple instantly struck an attitude, screwed his face into what he
called an intense expression, and, waving one arm like a semaphore,
declaimed in loud, clear tones:
"Oh, Runciman, dear Runciman, You've proved yourself a gentleman,
Both in pocket and in sense, For your care to send us hence; And