Geoff's little sister
Date: 2023-10-24T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Christian life -- Juvenile fiction; Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction; England -- Juvenile fiction; Children and death -- Juvenile fiction; Motherless families -- Juvenile fiction

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Title: Geoff's little sister

Author: Evelyn R. Garratt

Illustrator: Ernest Smythe

Release date: October 24, 2023 [eBook #71949]

Language: English

Original publication: Ipswich: Smiths, Suitall, Ipswich, 1900

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/71949

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GEOFF'S LITTLE SISTER ***

Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.

The table was pushed to one side, its former contents
cleared quite away, next Sunday's sermons among them.

GEOFF'S LITTLE SISTER.

BY

EVELYN R. GARRATT,

AUTHOR OF
"Dolly Do-Nothing," "An Ugly Hero," "Free to Serve," etc.

WITH

ILLUSTRATIONS

BY

ERNEST SMYTHE.

SMITH, SUITALL, IPSWICH.

PRINTERS & PUBLISHERS,
1900.
(Copyright).

SMITHS,
PRINTERS, BOOKBINDERS, AND PUBLISHERS,
SUITALL, IPSWICH.

"HE THAT IS SLOW TO ANGER IS BETTER THAN THE
MIGHTY; AND HE THAT RULETH HIS SPIRIT THAN HE
THAT TAKETH A CITY."—Proverbs xvi., 32.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I. GEOFF'S CHARGE

CHAPTER II. WHO BROKE THE DOLL?

CHAPTER III. PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS

CHAPTER IV. TAKING A CITY

CHAPTER V. "POOR LITTLE LAD!"

CHAPTER VI. THEIR MOTHER'S CHRISTMAS PRESENT

GEOFF'S LITTLE SISTER.

CHAPTER I.

GEOFF'S CHARGE.

It was the end of November, and the cold winds were sweeping over the country, swaying the rooks backwards and forwards, as they perched on the topmost branches of the trees, opposite the nursery window.

But Geoffrey was not looking at, nor thinking of the rooks.

He sat doubled up before the fire, with his feet on the fender, staring at the red coals.

Forbes and Jack were surveying with tear-stained faces a dish of oranges, which nurse had just placed before them with the words:

"There, my laddies, you eat away at them oranges, and don't you cry no more. Come, come," she added, as Jack hid his face in her large white apron sobbing, "don't you take on my beauty like that, you'll make yourself sick. Be a good boy now, and try one of them oranges, they'll make you feel better—see if they don't," and wiping Jack's tears away with her apron, and giving him a hearty kiss, nurse's comfortable figure disappeared hurriedly from the room, for she was busy and was afraid of being delayed by the sound of her boy's sobbing, which sound made her kind old heart ache, for blue-eyed Jack was her darling.

Left to themselves Forbes and Jack surveyed the oranges gravely, then the latter, still quivering with sobs, put out his hand to take one; Forbes followed his example. They both glanced at Geoffrey at this juncture, but the look of their elder brother as he sat crouching over the fire, was too miserable to allow of the thought of offering him one. So with heavy hearts, they made holes at the top of their oranges, into which they stuck lumps of sugar, and began to suck them, their tears mingling with the juice.

But the oranges were very good, and deliciously juicy, and just for the moment the cause of their tears was so forgotten, that Jack's orange suddenly bursting and the juice flying up into Forbes' face, a faint chuckle escaped the boys.

Geoffrey turned his sad face towards them, looking both shocked and surprised. Could they really be laughing? He had thought they would none of them ever be able to laugh again, he was quite sure he never could.

Only the other side of the nursery wall their dear dead mother lay, with that wonderful awful calm on her sweet face. How could they laugh after having seen her for the last time—or—had they forgotten—could they have forgotten?

Forbes coloured to the roots of his hair, as he caught sight of that look on Geoffrey's face, and pushing his plate away from him, felt ashamed of having been able to enjoy his orange. He knew Geoffrey could not have eaten a morsel of it. Indeed he had scarcely eaten anything since she had died.

Forbes hated and despised himself for eating that orange, and for actually wanting another.

Jack, notwithstanding that look on Geoffrey's face, was about to take a second. Forbes could have kicked him, particularly as there was something quite sly in the way he smuggled it into his plate, in the hope that Geoffrey would not see, winking at his brother as he did it.

"There my laddies, you eat away at them oranges, and don't you cry no more."

But after all, thought Forbes, Jack was the youngest of the three, and could not perhaps be expected to feel his mother's death so deeply as he and Geoffrey did; neither could Dodie (Muriel was her real name) who lay fast asleep, happily unconscious that the little black frock that hung at the end of her crib, about which she had been so excited as she had watched Nurse making it up, was the sign of something most precious having gone out of her life. Ashamed of himself and full of remorse Forbes rose from the table and took a seat opposite his brother.

A silence followed, during which he surveyed drearily the old familiar room. It looked the same as ever, yet it felt empty. Even the sky out of the window looked further off—the world seemed wider—the home too large.

"Geoff!" he said, with a choke in his voice, "I can't believe it!" Geoffrey did not answer.

"I can't believe that that is Mother," he added in an awestruck whisper, signing with his head towards the next room.

"It isn't Mother," said Geoffrey, still staring at the red coals, with knit brows, as he passed his hand through his shaggy red hair. "Do you think if it was Mother," he added in a low earnest voice, "that Dodie would have been frightened at her, and would have cried? She knew quite well that that isn't Mother. I couldn't bear it, if it was. If," continued Geoffrey looking up now at his brother with sad eyes, "If she had looked—as she always looks—when she says good-bye, I couldn't have borne it."

Geoffrey did not cry, it was not his way, but he spoke slowly and with a desperate effort to control himself.

"I'm glad she's changed," he added after a moment's pause, "for now I know that she is with God in heaven."

"And do you think—are you quite sure Mother would like Dodie to wear a black frock?"

Nurse's familiar step was heard now on the staircase, and at the same moment Dodie began to wake. She sat up in her crib, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes, her pretty curls disordered, and her little face flushed with sleep.

"Mammie," she cried.

Geoffrey's chest heaved, at the old familiar word.

Nurse was at Dodie's side in a moment, and took her into her arms.

"Poor dearie," she said, seating the child on her knee, "she doesn't know that her poor dear Mamma can't hear. Come Jackie, you try and amuse her, while I try on her new frock, bring her the ball, or something to play with, there's a good boy."

But when Dodie caught sight of her new frock all inclination to cry gave way to the pleasure of, for the first time, wearing anything but white, and at the novelty of long sleeves and a high neck.

Geoffrey did not watch the ceremony, it seemed to him too sad.

When he had seen Nurse cutting away at the black material he had been amazed to find that Dodie was not only to be put into black, but was to have her pretty little arms and neck covered up for the first time.

"Mother said she didn't mean to put her into long sleeves till next winter," he had said, as he stood and watched Nurse's scissors cutting the material into shape. "And do you think—are you quite sure Mother would like Dodie to wear a black frock?"

"Not wear black, when she's lost her poor dear Mamma, my dear? Why, we shouldn't be looked upon as respectable; and I wonder at you Master Geoffrey for thinking of such a thing. Haven't you lost the best Mother in the world, and would you show no respect for her? And as for putting the precious pet into a high necked frock with long sleeves, I think I'm a bit more likely to know what your poor dear Mamma would wish than you, considerin' I nursed her through the measles and chicken pox before you was ever born or thought of."

"Mother loved to see her little arms and neck," murmured Geoffrey.

"But she wouldn't love to see her running about in the snow this winter, catching her death of cold poor lamb—and they say we're going to have the coldest Christmas that ever was this year. She shall have a nice warm frock, that she shall, and plenty of room to grow in it."

"Nurse must know best," put in Jack timidly.

Jack had blue eyes and curly hair and was the best looking of the three boys. He was, moreover, Nurse's pet, and if ever there happened to be an extra bun, or an unusually large lump of sugar it was always given to Jack.

He made his remark in a somewhat timid tone of voice, for being only seven years old, three years younger than Geoffrey, he knew Forbes, who came between them in age, would consider he had no right to interfere, and he stood in awe of the latter's fists, which he used freely when he considered that Jack had been cheeky. Forbes had an immense admiration and love for his eldest brother. This feeling had been fostered by the fact, that though Geoffrey was only ten years old, his Mother had always treated him as if he were older, and had taken him into her confidence, and Geoffrey had grown up with the idea that, so long as his Father was away, his Mother was to be his chief care.

Major Fortescue had been away in India two years, having been obliged to leave his wife behind him on account of her health. Little did he think as he said good-bye to her on the troopship at Portsmouth, that he would never see her again in this world.

Dodie was chuckling with delight, as she ran about
trying to see her little toes under the unusually long skirt.

The love between Mrs. Fortescue and her eldest son had been very great. She had recognized in this red-haired, plain, or as some people thought ugly boy of hers, qualities, which, if fostered and encouraged, would make him a strong and good man, and as she lay dying she gave Dodie into his special care till his father returned, knowing that the boy would look upon it as a sacred trust.

At Jack's remark, Geoffrey had moved away from the table without another word. He could scarcely bear to hear his sweet young Mother called by Nurse "your poor dear Mamma," and much as he cared for Nurse, and submitted quietly as a rule to her authority, having learnt from his mother that if he wished to be a great man, he must begin first by being an obedient boy, he felt as confident as ever that his mother would not have wished Dodie to be put into black. He did not therefore watch Nurse as she fastened the frock, and it was only when he heard the child pattering across the nursery floor that he moved his eyes from the fire.

Dodie was chuckling with delight, as she ran about trying to see her little toes under the unusually long skirt, and nurse was standing with her arms akimbo laughing at her.

Geoffrey could bear it no longer. He rose pale and trembling, and was on the point of leaving the nursery, when nurse hearing herself called, hurried away.

The three boys stood watching their little sister with perplexed faces.

"There's something quite wrong about the frock," said Geoffrey, his brow puckered into a distressed frown, "it looks dreadful."

"Why it's ever so much too long of course," said Forbes, "If I dared to use Nurse's scissors, I'd cut it round the bottom, it would look much better. I'm quite sure Mother wouldn't like it."

"And if Father comes home as Nurse thinks he will, he'll never guess how pretty Dodie really is," added Geoff.

"Anyhow," remonstrated Jack, "she'll be nice and warm as Nurse says, and will have plenty of room to grow in it,—and Nurse is quite sure to know what is best." Jack added this bravely as the last time he had made a similar remark it had been allowed to go unreproved.

"Nurse does not always know best," said Forbes. "Don't you remember how often she used to want to give us gregory powder and rhubarb pills if we were a little ill, and Mother never would let her. Of course she wouldn't know so well as Mother what was best to do, and why just because Mother has gone to Heaven," added Forbes, with a curious expression about his mouth which his brothers understood, "Dodie is made to look so sad and so—so ugly, I can't think."

"She doesn't look ugly, she couldn't," said Geoffrey, as he watched the child frisking about the room, so taken up with her new frock, that she was entirely unconscious that her brothers were looking at her, and talking of her.

Dodie was a lovely little girl. Her hair was curiously light, the very palest shade of gold, her eyes dark brown, and she had the sweetest most kissable little mouth imaginable. She was so small too, that though she was three years old, she looked like a little doll walking about. Any mother's heart would have ached at the sight of these three motherless boys watching with such sad sombre faces their baby sister.

Geoffrey loved this little sister next best to his mother, and nothing she could do, ever vexed him. She might pull his hair, stuff her fingers down his neck, pluck off ruthlessly the finest blossoms from his favourite plants, throw his pet books recklessly on the floor, thereby breaking their backs, scribble over his carefully written Latin exercise, and yet he could not find the heart to be angry with her.

"When could Father be home, if he comes?" asked Forbes, after a few moments pause.

"He might be here by Christmas," answered Geoffrey. "Poor Father! He must know by this time," he added, seating himself again by the fire. "Mr. Hodson telegraphed to him last night."

"Nurse says we needn't go back to school till after Christmas," remarked Jack, "We shall have a jolly long holiday."

"Jolly!" exclaimed Geoffrey, looking up in surprise,—then he remembered that Jack was only seven years old.

CHAPTER II.

WHO BROKE THE DOLL?

Had the inhabitants of Hazelbury seen the Rev. Claude Hodson on a certain winter's afternoon about a fortnight after the events recorded in the last chapter took place, crawling about the floor of his sitting room on all fours, minus a coat, but with a rug thrown across his back, and roaring in imitation of some wild beast, they would scarcely have recognised him as their quiet and grave young curate.

With children, he felt thoroughly at ease, and specially with his little friends the Fortescues. Nothing gave him greater pleasure than to have all four of them to spend the afternoon with him and to stay to tea.

Mrs. Fortescue had always been very kind to him, and he had felt less shy with her than with most people.

Thinking that the young man must be lonely, she had allowed the boys to run in and out of his rooms on their half holidays, at his request, and thus a warm friendship was formed between them.

The table was pushed to one side, its former contents cleared quite away,
next Sunday's sermons among them.

During Mrs. Fortescue's last illness, no one could have been more tender to and sympathizing with the children than he was, and it was to him that Geoffrey had gone at once when the end came. "Mr. Hodson," he had said, looking up at him with tearless eyes, but with a pale face, "Mother has gone."

For the minute Claude was quite silent, and then he did, what to him was the only possible thing he could do under the circumstances.

"Let us pray, Geoff," he had said in a low voice, and though no word was uttered aloud by either of them, they knelt silently together, Claude's hand resting tenderly on the boy's shoulder.

Geoff did not cry. His breath came quick and short for a few minutes, and then he grew calm. From that day their friendship was sealed.

On this particular afternoon of which I write, the Curate was in his element. He had invited his little friends to tea and had resolved to do what he could to cheer them up and to make them happy, and he certainly had succeeded.

Game after game they had played, turning everything in his room upside down.

The table was pushed to one side, its former contents cleared quite away, next Sunday's sermons among them, for the Vicar was away from home, and the preaching therefore devolved on the Curate.

Dodie was sweeping about the room, with the table cloth tied round her waist, forming a long train behind her, and an antimacassar thrown over her head for a veil, and the Curate himself amidst the shrieks of his little friends, was prowling about the floor, supposed to be a wild beast, trying to catch the children one by one.

Everything was in wild confusion, and Mrs. Green, the landlady, hearing the merriment from her dull little parlour at the back of the house, could not resist giving a peep into her lodger's room, to see a bit of the fun.

At the sight of her at the door, Claude sprang up from his humiliating position, and wiping the heat from his brow, said:

"I'm afraid Mrs. Green that we are making an unearthly noise, you've not a bad head to-day, I trust."

"Bless you, no Sir," said Mrs. Green, laughing, "It does one's heart good to see them enjoying themselves, poor little dears. I like a noise, it's cheery. 'Why Sally,' my husband has said many a time to me, when I've complained of the quiet of the country, 'I do believe,' says he, 'you'd like to live in an Inn, where people are always going and coming. One day, says he, when my ship comes in, I'll buy a Hotel at Yarmouth or Margate or some such place, and then you'll have as much noise as you like.'"

"You've had enough noise I expect for one day, any way," said Claude, suddenly becoming conscious that he was standing talking to his landlady in his shirt sleeves, and turning round to hunt for his coat among the confusion.

"Well as I tell you Sir, I like it, it's cheerful. Now that's what I like to think about Heaven," continued Mrs. Green, who at the slightest show of interest on the part of her listener, was inclined to become garrulous. "We shan't have no dull back parlours there I take it, not seeing a soul from one day to another, all shut up by ourselves like. We shall always be coming across new people there, and there'll be plenty to see and to hear. Think of old Rachel, Sir, her as lives at the bottom of the hill all by herself. She don't see a fresh face from one week's end to another. What a nice change it'll be for her now, that's to say if ever she gets there. I'm afraid she ain't fit for Heaven yet from all I hear."

The children interrupted in their game stood staring at the intruder, somewhat indignantly, while Dodie administered sundry impatient thumps on Claude's back.

"I must say," added Mrs. Green, "that that daughter of hers behaves shameful. Ever since she married the man Jones she has quite neglected her poor old mother, and if ever she gives her anything, you may be quite sure it ain't fit to eat, something they can't eat themselves because it's turned."

"What!" cried Geoffrey. "Does she do that to her own Mother?"

"You may well cry out, Master Geoff, it's a wicked shame, and I tell you Sir," she added, turning to Claude, "mark my word, if that woman don't manage somehow to get the Christmas Charities this year, even though her own old Mother has to go without."

"Come, come, Mrs. Green," expostulated Claude, "She's not quite so base as that, I hope. However I'll have an eye on her at Christmas; and now," he added, as Dodie's thumps became more violent, "do you think you could let us have tea? It's early I'm afraid, but we're all hungry. Is it too early?"

"Bless you no Sir,—not if you want it. I'm always willing to do what I can to make you comfortable. 'Sally,' my husband used to say to me when I had troublesome lodgers, 'don't you mind being put about a bit, keep a cheerful countenance my girl,' and so I've always tried to do Sir, and though the kitchen fire is a bit low as I didn't know you'd be wanting tea quite so early, I'll make it up at once Sir, and tea will be ready in a few minutes."

And Mrs. Green hurried off with a good-natured smile on her face, thinking to herself, "Who wouldn't be obliging to such a nice young gentleman, I should like to know—such a quiet lodger too—so different from my last party. I sometimes wish he'd make a little more noise, that I do; it 'ud be more cheerful. But there now, it isn't his way. Bless me! Flow those dear children are enjoying themselves," as a fresh peal of laughter found its way down into the kitchen.

Nurse's hair would have stood up on end, if half an hour afterwards she had looked in, and seen the zest with which the three boys tucked in to the apricot jam and currant cake, which their host brought out of his cupboard.

Geoffrey perhaps fared the worst of the three, for a great deal of his time was spent in looking after Dodie, tying on her bib, cutting her bread and butter into tempting little shapes, so as to take off her attention from the currant cake, which he knew she must not eat, giving her tiny little portions of his own jam on her bread and butter to taste.

He would not let anyone do anything for her but himself, and no mother could have been more careful of her.

"Mr. Hodson," said Forbes, when after tea they put on their hats and jackets most unwillingly to go, "will you take us one day into Ipswich to get our Christmas presents? It's three weeks to Christmas now, and Nurse won't let us go alone, though of course Geoff could take care of us. Mother used always to let him go into the town alone."

"I want to get heaps of presents," said Jack, tugging away at his boots breathlessly, "there's Nurse, and James, and Ann, and Geoff of course, and the others, I don't think I can buy mine all in a day."

"I wouldn't tell a lie if I were you," said Geoff, "it's very mean to tell a lie."

"Well, you'll have to, that's all," said Forbes, "and we mustn't forget Father's present, at least I suppose he'll be with us then. We've had a telegram to say he is coming soon, and he'll send another when it's quite decided. Do you think you could take us, Mr. Hodson?"

Claude promised he would do what he could, and then Dodie was put into her little mail cart, which of course Geoff drew himself, and their friend saw them safely home.

Nurse met them at the door.

"It's wonderful kind of you Sir to have them," she said, lifting Dodie out of the cart and giving her a hearty kiss, "I hope they've all been good," then, as Claude made his escape, after assuring her it had been quite as much pleasure to him to have them, as it was for them to come, Nurse made her way up into the nursery, seated herself in her large chair by the fire, and began to take off Dodie's gloves. But Dodie was tired, perhaps from over excitement, and was not inclined to sit still, and finally ended in crying, as the string of her little cape had got into a knot, and took nurse some time to undo.

"Where's her doll?" said Nurse, "run and fetch it, there's a good boy, it'll stop her crying."

Forbes went to the cupboard to look for it, but it was not there. He hunted all over the nursery, but it was no where to be found. After a long search, he went down into the schoolroom, and to his astonishment found it hidden away behind the curtain, with its face not only cracked, but looking as if it had been melted in the fire. Forbes ran upstairs two steps at a time, as he held out the doll for Nurse to see; Jack, who was on the floor reading a book by the light of the fire, looked up and turned very red, while Dodie, catching sight of her disfigured doll, set up a lusty scream, and was a long time before she would be comforted, in fact not till Forbes had carried the doll out of the room, having beckoned to Jack to follow him.

They met Geoffrey on the stairs.

"What's the matter with Dodie?" he asked.

Forbes explained the mysterious finding of the doll, and the three went back into the schoolroom to see the exact spot.

"Who could have done it?" murmured Jack.

"That's just it," answered Forbes, "we must find that out of course, it was hidden away on purpose."

"Could Dodie have broken it herself?" suggested Jack.

"Dodie! Of course not, why you saw yourself how scared she was at the sight of it. I suppose Jack—" Forbes hesitated and looked down at his little brother, who turned again very red.

"Jack," said Geoffrey gravely, "you know something about it, did you do it?"

"I? No! of course not, I don't know anything about it," stammered Jack.

"I wouldn't tell a lie if I were you," said Geoff, "it's very mean to tell a lie."

"It isn't a lie," said Jack angrily, "I tell you I don't know who did it."

"I do," retorted Forbes, "so there's an end of it," and he was just about to leave the room when he felt a sharp kick on his ancle, and turned round to see Jack's face crimson with rage and his small hands clenched.

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said Forbes coolly, and being a much stronger boy than Jack, had him down on the ground in a moment of time, and held him there saying, "I shan't let you go till you've confessed that you're a wicked little liar."

Geoffrey here interfered.

"Come Forbes, that isn't fair," he said, "he's a little chap, and besides we have no right not to believe him. Let him go, there's a good fellow."

But it was not till Forbes had administered a certain amount of corporal punishment on the offender that he let him go, and saw him make his way upstairs sobbing.

Jack did not however, for a wonder, go straight to Nurse, but hid himself on the floor in a dark corner of the night nursery.

There huddled poor little Jack, with a great burden on his conscience. He had told a lie—a direct lie—and he had told it twice, and yet he felt he could never confess that he was the guilty one. They would never forgive him for spoiling Dodie's doll, and they would always look down upon him for telling a lie about it. Jack sat and cried all by himself in the dark, and did not move from his corner till nurse herself came up an hour afterwards with Dodie in her little nightdress in her arms. It was only on putting the candle on the chest of drawers that she discovered Jack.

"Why my beauty!" she cried, laying Dodie down and turning towards Jack, "What's the matter, eh? Has anyone been unkind to you?"

And taking him on her knee, she kissed him and smoothed his hair, and rocked him in her kind old arms, in great distress at finding him crying in the dark.

"He's thinking about his poor dear Mamma, I do believe, bless him," she thought to herself, as Jack still sobbed, giving no explanation of his tears; then aloud she said, "if you're a good boy, you shall have a bit of cake for supper. Leave off crying, there's a darling, while I tuck Dodie up, and then I'll tell you a story by the nursery fire."

So Jack went down into the nursery, with the lie still on his conscience, and looking very shamefaced. It was true he was able to enjoy the large slice of currant cake which an hour or two afterwards Nurse gave him, for Jack could enjoy cake under almost any circumstances, but he did not enjoy meeting Forbes' eyes fixed upon him, after taking an unusually large mouthful.

Forbes and Geoff were eating the usual supper of bread and butter by the table, and neither of them could quite make out what Jack had done to deserve an extra treat in the way of cake, and to be allowed to eat it by the fire, notwithstanding the crumbs which fell on the carpet, and against which Nurse as a rule waged war.

That look of Forbes, however, almost choked Jack. He was eating the last mouthful, but I do not think he could have eaten another, certainly not with Forbes' eyes upon him.

He was glad when it was time to go to bed. He went up to Geoffrey who kissed him as usual, but Forbes waved him away, and Jack stumbled out of the nursery with his eyes full of tears, and feeling himself to be the meanest little wretch alive.

Jack slept in a bed in the night nursery, in the opposite corner to Dodie's crib, which was close beside Nurse's big bed, and as a rule, he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow, but tonight he could not sleep. He lay awake, longing to hear Nurse's step on the stair outside, he longed for the comfort of her motherly presence. When, however, she came up at last, Jack, afraid lest she should ask him questions, feigned to be asleep at first, and then when she had smoothed his pillow and tucked him up for the night, he opened his eyes, and amused himself by watching her shadow on the ceiling as she moved about the room. But this amusement soon came to an end, before long he saw her blow out the candle, and heard her get into bed, and all was still.

Then Jack's burden, in the silence and dark, grew so heavy and large that he could bear it no longer, and sitting up in bed, he cried out "Nurse! Nurse!"

In a moment the candle was lit again, and Nurse by his side.

"What is it, dearie?" she asked, putting her arms round him. "Have you had a bad dream, dear heart?"

"I've told a lie," sobbed Jack. "It was me that spoilt Dodie's doll, I was pretending to ha-ha-hang her for fun, and she dropped and br-br-broke her face, and I tried to mend it, so that no nobody should know. I broke it, and I thought the fire would make the cr-cr-crack all right again, but it did-did-didn't, it made it worse. So I hid it away in the sch-sch-schoolroom, and I have told two lies to Geoff and Forbes, and I don't think God will ever forgive me, and Forbes will ha-ha hate me."

"You're a good boy to tell me," said nurse, "and don't you cry no more, there's a darling. You just tell God about it. You may get out if you like, and kneel down now and pray, and I'm certain sure that if you are really sorry, the good God will forgive you," and kind old Nurse wiped away a tear or two herself, and after tucking him up in bed again, and kissing him, she knelt down by her own bedside to pray for her boy.

Jack confessed to Forbes next morning, and the latter gave him a slap on the back, saying:

"That's right old boy, stick to the truth though another time, that's all."

CHAPTER III.

PREPARING FOR CHRISTMAS.

According to his promise Mr. Hodson arranged an afternoon on which to take the three boys into Ipswich.

They started early in the afternoon in high spirits. The sky was a clear blue with white billowy clouds sailing slowly across it, and the air was cold and crisp. The river which they passed on their way to the town had caught the colour of the sky, and one or two little white sailed boats were reflected on its waters, while in the distance a large ship with red sails was slowly making its way against wind and tide.

Geoffrey was the only one of the three boys whose thoughts were full of anything except the shops which they were nearing, and the presents they were about to buy. He could not but remember that the chief excitement in past years of buying Christmas presents was over, that the best present of all would not be wanted. How gladly would he have parted with all his little savings if only he could buy his Mother a present once again. He felt he would willingly give her all he possessed.

Afraid as he was of giving people trouble himself, he was quite aghast
at the way the boys insisted upon having the counter strewn with various articles.

He had noticed the thought of his Mother cross Forbes' mind that morning too. Just before they had started the latter had been counting out his money, and arranging how much he could spend on each person, when suddenly he came to a full stop, and looking up at Geoffrey in whose eyes the one word "Mother" seemed to Forbes to be so evidently written, he had flushed crimson, and had to bite his lips to prevent tears coming.

That Forbes was constantly thinking of his Mother, Geoffrey was sure, but it surprised him to find how seldom the thought of her seemed to cross Jack's mind. Nurse apparently filled her place to him completely, and Geoffrey recognised none of the "Mother hunger" in his little brother, from which he suffered so much himself.

Even Dodie seemed to remember her more than Jack, for often in her sleep, when she stirred she would murmur "Mammie." It always gave Geoff a strange sensation when he heard this, and he liked to fancy that in some way or other, his Mother watched over his little sister and talked to her in her dreams.

Geoffrey was the only one of the three boys who was silent, as he walked by the side of Mr. Hodson to the town, his hands deep in his pockets, but his silence was more than made up for by the lively chatter of his two brothers.

The shops looked very tempting, decorated as they were for Christmas, and the town was full of people. Claude Hodson found he had given himself a task when he had promised to take his little friends shopping. It was the first experience of shopping with children, and before the afternoon was over, he fervently hoped it would be the last.

Afraid as he was of giving people trouble himself, he was quite aghast at the way the boys insisted upon having the counter strewn with various articles for them to look at, often without deciding to buy any of them. It never struck them that they were giving trouble, or that they were making their kind friend feel supremely uncomfortable. Jack was the most undecided of the three as to what to buy. He would change his mind a dozen times before he settled upon anything. Every fresh thing he saw he wanted, and liked better than the last.

Forbes, on the other hand, was the most unprincipled in the matter of giving trouble, and his remarks about the different articles covered Claude Hodson with confusion more than once. "Why that isn't worth a shilling," he would say, "it's nothing of a knife, only two blades! I got a much better one last year for sixpence!" or "Haven't you any better sticks than this? These are no good at all, I want a regular wopper you know, one that I could knock a fellow down with if he attacked us."

"I say, Forbes," said Jack, as they neared home, "I'll show you your present,
if you'll show me mine?"

But if Jack was the most undecided, and Forbes the most inconsiderate of people's feelings, Geoffrey was certainly the hardest to please, as he made up his mind beforehand exactly what he wanted, and would scarcely be satisfied with anything short of it. Among the many things he wanted was a doll for Dodie, as like as possible to the one his Mother gave her, which Jack had spoilt. This doll must, he explained, have light hair and blue eyes, and its head must be turned a little to the right. Mr. Hodson's spirits sank when he heard the minute description Geoffrey gave of the doll, and knew that when he had once set his heart on a thing, he would hunt till he found it, if he could.

"I promised Dodie I'd get her one as like the other as possible," he explained to Mr. Hodson, who mildly hinted that he must be quick, as it was getting late, "and of course, I mustn't break my promise. I'm sure I've seen a doll very like it, somewhere. You don't mind me trying a little longer do you?"

At last Claude had to remonstrate, and Geoff had to give up the idea of finding a doll with a turned head,—he found one, however, with blue eyes and golden hair, and hoped that Dodie would be satisfied with it. He had anyhow kept his promise, and tried hard to find one like her broken favourite.

So at last, with their pockets stuffed out and their arms full, they turned homewards to Mr. Hodson's great relief, and soon they left the lights of Ipswich behind them, and were plodding quickly towards Hazelbury, through the dusk.

"I say Forbes," said Jack, as they neared home, "I'll show you your present, if you'll show me mine."

Jack was tired, and they had both lagged behind the others.

"You may guess what it is, if you like," said Forbes, "but it would spoil all the fun to show it to you beforehand. Ask me questions, and I'll answer yes or no."

"Well then, is it heavy?"

"Light?"

"Rather, yes."

"Can I hold it in my hand?"

"Yes."

"Is it long and straight?"

"It's quite straight—particularly so—and rather long."

"I say Forbes—it isn't—no it can't be a walking stick, of course," said Jack growing excited, and fervently hoping it was.

"No, but that's not a fair question, you must find out more about it."

"Is it a useful thing?"

"Decidedly."

"Not too useful I hope," said Jack, somewhat dejectedly.

"I don't know what you mean by too useful—nothing can be too useful."

"I mean it has nothing to do with lessons—a blotting book, or slate, or anything of that sort."

"Well yes, it is something of that sort, but I know you haven't got one, and really want one, I heard you ask Geoffrey for his only the other day."

"It's a ruler!" said Jack blankly.

"Yes—but not only a ruler. Here, I'll let you feel it, old boy."

Jack felt it.

"It's one of those rulers with a pencil in it," he murmured, then he added effusively lest Forbes should think him ungrateful, "thanks awfully, it's jolly, it's awfully kind of you."

Forbes felt and saw his little brother was disappointed.

"I quite forgot you didn't care for useful things, I like them myself. But," he added, anxious to raise Jack's spirits, and to make the best of his present which he felt was a failure, and unappreciated, "this is a particularly nice ruler—it has a first-rate pencil in it, and a view of the Grammar School and Arboretum outside. That's why I got it, I thought you'd be sure to like it."

"Forbes," said Mr. Hodson, laying a kind hand on the boy's shoulder,
"you remind me of a verse in Proverbs, 'He that ruleth
his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city.'"

"Thanks awfully," was all that Jack could think of to say, then after a moment's pause he asked, "What are you going to give Geoff?"

"I'm giving him a walking stick, a regular wopper. I got it while you and he were looking after the doll. It has a knob at the end the size of my fist. I've asked them to send it out to Hazelbury for me, as I was afraid Geoff would see me carrying it."

"I say Forbes," said Jack colouring, and in a low voice, "you wouldn't, I suppose, give Geoff the ruler and let me have the stick?"

"No, certainly not," said Forbes angrily. "You are an ungrateful sneaking little scamp, get away with you."

Jack burst into tears at this, and ran past Mr. Hodson and Geoff, who had overheard Forbes' words, as he had raised his voice in his anger.

Mr. Hodson turned round and looked at Forbes. The light of a lamp close by shewed him the indignant light in the boy's eyes.

"He's gone to complain to nurse now I suppose," he said, angrily looking after Jack's little figure, as he ran crying up the drive and into the house.

"Forbes," said Mr. Hodson, laying a kind hand on the boy's shoulder, "you remind me of a verse in Proverbs, 'He that ruleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city.' You have the chance of being a greater man then even Alexander—for though he conquered the world, he could not conquer his own temper, and killed his best friend in a fit of anger."

"Thank you Sir," said Forbes, "I'll remember."

CHAPTER IV.

TAKING A CITY.

Geoffrey remembered Mr. Hodson's words later in the evening.

He did not turn in at the garden gate with Forbes, but telling him he had some business to do before going in to tea, he gave his presents into his brother's keeping, and ran down the hill on the summit of which their house stood.

At the bottom of the hill, he came upon a tumbled-down cottage, standing quite by itself. Old Rachel, of whom Mrs. Green had told them, lived here.

The thought of Rachel had lain very heavily on Geoffrey's heart the last two or three days. He could not forget that she was a mother, and a mother neglected by her only child, who, when she gave her anything at all, only passed on to her what she couldn't eat herself. He was thinking of Rachel when the apple puffs were passed round at dinner.

Now apple puffs was a favourite dish of Geoffrey's, as I fancy it is of most boys. They looked particularly tempting to-day, and he ate the first with a relish. It was just as he was taking his second, that Mrs. Green's words came across his mind, "and if ever she gives her anything, you may be quite sure it ain't fit to eat, something they can't eat themselves because it's turned."

Geoffrey looked at the puff as it lay so invitingly on his plate. It was three cornered, and a little burnt at the edges, which made it all the nicer in Geoffrey's opinion, and a nice layer of white sugar lay on the top.

How good it looked! For a moment the boy gazed at it undecidedly, then, when no one was looking, he put it into his jacket pocket, and resolved to take it round to old Rachel when they came back from Ipswich.

"For once," thought Geoff, "she shall have something that somebody else wants."

He had had some difficulty in knowing how to stow away his many presents so as not to crush his apple puff, but he had managed somehow, and now as he stood outside the door of Rachel's cottage, he took the puff out and was glad to find it still whole. It certainly looked very tempting, and Geoffrey was hungry after his walk. No one would see if after all he ate it, instead of giving it to old Rachel, and no one would consciously miss it.

For a moment the boy's resolution wavered, then he knocked at the door.

Now an apple puff was not a very great thing to give up for the sake of another, and perhaps some of my little readers may think that it would not have signified very much if Geoffrey had eaten it after all. But we must remember, that life is made up of little things, and the great battle of life, on which so much depends, consists often of little victories and little losses, and this small victory that Geoffrey gained that afternoon helped him in after years to gain a far greater one.

When he grew up to be a man, there was something he wanted very much, which was far more worth having than this apple puff. He wanted it so much that he sometimes felt he would almost give his life to possess it for ever such a short time; but somebody else wanted it too, someone who was weaker than he was, and who perhaps needed it more than he did, and Geoffrey gave it right up for the sake of that other.

I do not think he would have acted so nobly when he was a man, if he had not begun quite early in life to deny himself. If he had lost this little battle and had eaten the apple puff outside old Rachel's door, in all probability he would have lost that greater battle in after life.

"You are old Rachel, aren't you?" asked Geoffrey.
"Well, what if I be?" she answered.

"Come in," said a quavering voice as Geoffrey knocked, and on entering, he saw a haggard looking old woman, with a forbidding expression of face, and grey straggling hair, crouching over a small fire.

"You are old Rachel, aren't you?" asked Geoffrey, who had never seen her before.

"Well, what if I be?" she answered in a low gruff voice, "I don't want no one to come interfering with me, leastways a child. What do you want—eh?"

"I've brought you an apple puff," said Geoffrey, standing still by the door.

"Shut the door, can't ye," said Rachel shivering, "the draught's enough to cut one in two. An apple puff is it? That ain't the kind of food I want, I ought to be fed on arrowroot I tell ye, and sweet puddings and the like. But Jane never sends me what I need, it's either somethin' that's turned bad, or else what I can't eat."

"This is quite new and fresh," said Geoffrey, shutting the door and coming a little nearer, while he laid the puff on the table, "perhaps you've never tasted a puff—it's awfully good—I wish you'd try it."

"That's a likely story, if Jane sent it," said Rachel glancing at it, and then looking up suspiciously at Geoffrey.

"No one sent it," interposed Geoffrey. "We had them for dinner to-day, and I thought you'd like one as they were so good. I'm Geoffrey Fortescue, and I heard of you from Mrs. Green."

Rachel looked back again at the fire, muttering to herself, and Geoffrey looked round the room, and thought how bare it was, and how lonely Rachel looked.

"Haven't you any money to get things with?" he asked.

"Money ain't for such as me: the big folk that don't need it, they have the money. This world's comforts ain't for me."

"There's Heaven for you," said Geoffrey.

Rachel darted a quick look at the boy, and as she saw the earnest young face looking at her so pitifully, the expression on her own face softened, and she shook her head.

"I take it Heaven is a long way off," she said sadly.

"It doesn't seem so very far," answered Geoff, "Mother is there, and I sometimes feel she's quite close."

"Heaven ain't meant for such as me," muttered Rachel, cowering closer to the fire.

"I thought God loved everybody, and meant Heaven for the whole world," said Geoff, "and," he added earnestly, "I'm quite sure God must want you there, because you are so lonely."

Rachel wiped away a tear or two with her apron. She had not cried for many a long day. She had harboured too bitter thoughts to allow of tears, but to-day, something in the boy's simple words touched her hard old heart.

"I mustn't stop," said Geoffrey, looking out of the window at the darkness, "or Nurse won't like it. But I'll ask Mr. Hodson to come and see you, and I'll leave the apple puff, for it's ever so good, if you'll only try it."

Rachel nodded her assent to the last sentence, but added:

"But don't you bring no parsons to see me. I don't want no parsons here, unless," she added with a sob, and beginning to rock herself backwards and forwards, "unless he can tell me the way straight and plain to Heaven. I'd like to know that."

Closing the door softly after him, Geoffrey ran as fast as he could to Mr. Hodson. Although he ran the risk of a scolding from Nurse for being late, he felt that Rachel must not be left in her misery.

He arrived at the house nearly breathless, and told his friend what had happened.

Mr. Hodson, who had together with the Vicar for many a year tried in vain to overcome Rachel's objection to see a clergyman, was glad enough of the news Geoffrey brought him, and prepared at once to go and see her.

"Mr. Hodson," said Geoffrey anxiously, "God loves her, doesn't He? And He won't turn her away from Heaven, if she asks to be let in."

"If Rachel really wants to find God, He certainly will not turn her away," answered Mr. Hodson. "The Lord Jesus Christ has made a way there for us all, and old Rachel's way is the same as yours and mine. Do you remember the story Geoff," he added, as he put On his coat to start off at once, "of the man who saved his children by making a bridge of his own body from the window of his burning house to that of the opposite one? The houses were very near together, and he could reach from one window to another."

"His children one by one crossed over his body into safety, and just as the last child was saved, the house fell in, and the man was killed. When the Blessed Lord Jesus died on the Cross, He made a bridge for Rachel, and for you and for me to Heaven. You see, I have good news for your old friend, Geoff my boy, so you run home as fast as you can or you'll get a scolding."

And Geoff did get a scolding. Nurse met him at the door.

"Master Geoff," she cried, "I'm downright ashamed of you for setting the children such an example. There I've been worrying after you for the last twenty minutes, and thought you'd come to some accident or other. I'm downright ashamed of you."

"I had some business to do," said Geoffrey, trying to pass her. But Nurse placed her portly figure in his way.

"Business! A chit like you talking of business! What'll you come to next, I wonder. You're a naughty boy and ought to be ashamed of yourself. What business have you had to do, I should like to know, except to be a good obedient boy. That's the business you ought to be doing I take it."

Geoffrey flushed angrily. His mother never scolded him in this way, and he had often run messages for her as late as this by himself.

"Let me pass, Nurse," he said angrily, trying to push past her, "I've not been doing anything wrong."

"Nothing wrong!" exclaimed Nurse, catching hold of his arm. "Nothing wrong to make me that anxious about you that I didn't know what to do—nothing wrong that you've kept us all waiting for tea, and have set a bad example to all the children. I'm ashamed of you Master Geoff. Now I should like to know what you've been about, and I mean to know too."

But at the sight of the bread and water, he lost his temper completely,
and taking up the glass, he threw it on to the ground.

Now Geoff did not wish to tell Nurse about the apple puff, and felt exceedingly angry at being treated like a little boy, and held by the arm in this way. So raising his hand he struck nurse's arm as hard as he could, and then pale with anger, he rushed into his bedroom and locked the door.

"Well I never!" ejaculated nurse. "If that isn't a wicked temper, I don't know what is."

When she went back into the nursery a few minutes afterwards, she informed the children that Geoff had been a naughty boy, and was to have no tea that evening, but that Forbes might put a glass of water and some bread outside his door, but was not to speak a word to him.

Forbes, in utter astonishment at his elder brother being punished in this way, obeyed wonderingly.

Now it was a great pity that Geoffrey had not at once explained to nurse the cause of his absence. She might have given him a slight scolding, for not asking her leave before going, but her kind heart would have sympathized with him, in his wish to do a kindness.

But Geoffrey's pride had stood in the way. He could not endure being treated like a little boy, and scolded like a naughty child, and as he paced up and down his room, his indignation rose, and reached its climax when he heard Forbes' footstep outside, and the sound of him quietly laying down his tea, as he supposed, by his door without a word. Was he to be treated then like a mere baby? And to be held in disgrace like Jack or Dodie would have been, if they had been naughty?

He opened his door impatiently to call after Forbes to take away his tea, but at the sight of the bread and water, he lost his temper completely, and taking up the glass, he threw it on to the ground, smashing it to pieces. Then locked his door again, and would not open it, though nurse shook it violently.

Then it was that Mr. Hodson's words about Alexander came into his mind, and Geoffrey stood quite still in his walk.

"'He that ruleth his spirit is greater than he that taketh a city,'" thought Geoff.

Half an hour afterwards, to Forbes' intense astonishment, Geoffrey appeared in the nursery and apologized to nurse.

Nurse said nothing, but going to the cupboard, she mixed some gregory powder in a wineglass, saying, "anyone who shows temper like that, I take it, must be ill. There my dear," she added kindly, "you drink that, there's a good boy—and you'll feel better to-morrow."

And Geoff drank it to the dregs, and in so doing was greater than Alexander the Great.

CHAPTER V.

"POOR LITTLE LAD."

Geoffrey could not fail to acknowledge to himself that after all, Nurse had been wise in putting Dodie into a frock with high neck and long sleeves, for the winter was unusually severe.

Snow lay for several days some inches thick in the garden, and though the boys enjoyed the snowballing well enough, and were able to keep themselves thoroughly warm, little Dodie seemed to feel the cold very acutely, and often came in from her daily walk crying from the pain of freezing fingers.

In fact, the child did not seem herself, and Nurse began to grow uneasy about her, particularly as in seven days' time, Major Fortescue was expected and she was naturally anxious that all the children should be looking their best on his arrival.

In Geoffrey's eyes, Dodie seemed to be growing thinner and smaller altogether, and a terrible fear seized him lest she was going to be ill, and would be so when his Father arrived.

As the days past, he gave up snowballing, and spent his time in the nursery with Dodie, who was not allowed out.

"I think the cold has struck her," said Nurse, as one day she altogether refused to eat her dinner. "I've a mind to send for Dr. Booth, the powders I've been giving her don't seem to be what she wants."

Geoffrey laid down his knife and fork, feeling a sudden disinclination for the mutton and dumplings before him.

"Do you think Dodie is going to be ill?" he asked anxiously.

"I hope not, my dear, but it ain't like her to turn away from her food, and she has a nasty little cough that don't get better. Anyways I'll ask Dr. Booth to look in, there can't be no harm in that. There, there my darling," she added, taking Dodie on to her knee, "don't cry, there's a pet."

Nurse looked down at Dodie's little face which was lying on her arm.

"I don't like the look of her," she murmured more to herself than to anyone else, "her eyes are too bright to be natural, and she's restless, poor little dear." Then louder she added, "Geoff, you might run down when you've finished your dinner and ask the doctor to be so good as to look in. You'd catch him before he starts out on his rounds if you're quick."

"Dr. Booth," he said,—looking up into the Doctor's face—
"will Dodie be well by the time Father comes home?"

Geoffrey, who had listened with a beating heart to all Nurse had said, sprang up at once, and not heeding Nurse's injunction to finish his dinner first, ran off at once for the Doctor, and returned again in an incredibly short time.

To his excited imagination, the few minutes that elapsed between leaving the message at the doctor's door and his arrival seemed hours, and then at last his ring was heard, and a minute after, he stood looking at Dodie, who still lay in nurse's arms.

Geoff did not move his eyes from his face, till Nurse suddenly looking up and becoming conscious of the three little listeners who stood around, ordered them all peremptorily out of the room. Geoffrey, however, waylaid the Doctor as he left.

"Dr. Booth," he said, standing with his hands thrust deeply in his pockets, and looking earnestly up into the Doctor's face as he put on his coat in the hall, "will Dodie be well by the time Father comes home?"

The Doctor shook his head somewhat ominously.

"That I can't tell you, my boy," he answered, as he buttoned up his coat and smoothed his collar, "with care I hope your little sister will get well before very long—but it will require care—and I can't say exactly when she will be herself again."

"Is she going to be very ill?" asked Geoff.

The doctor turned away somewhat hurriedly from the anxious face looking up into his, and fidgeted a little nervously with his hat before putting it on. Then clearing his throat, he looked round again and patted the boy on the head saying, kindly:

"Care and physic do wonderful things, my boy—for all I know, your little sister will be having a game of snowballing with you this day week."

"I do hope she'll be well by the time Father comes," said Geoff with a sigh.

"Oh well—who knows!" said Dr. Booth jovially—and ramming his hat on his head, he nodded to Geoff, and in a minute more was driving away from the house, but not away from the remembrance of those anxious eyes that had been raised so beseechingly to him,—which remembrance made him shake his head, murmuring "poor little lad."

When Geoff went up to the nursery, he saw Nurse had been crying, but when he asked what the Doctor really thought of Dodie, she told him she had no time to talk and that he had better go down to the other boys in the schoolroom as Dodie had to go straight to bed, and mustn't be disturbed by any noise.

Geoffrey did as he was bid, but with a heavy heart, feeling quite sure that Nurse's tears meant that Dodie was very ill. He could not play with Forbes and Jack, or even read, but sat by the fire, looking silently at the red coals, for an hour or more.

It was the greatest relief when Nurse at last came down and told him he might go upstairs and watch by Dodie's crib while she had her tea, and that was the beginning of a continual watching on the boy's part. Nurse finding how gentle and tender he was, and how noiselessly he could move about when he liked, did not object to his spending many hours by Dodie's crib, and indeed, in her great anxiety, she began to be thankful for the boy's presence. For the Doctor's report of Dodie had been serious. The child had caught a chill, and before many hours were over, Bronchitis declared itself, and notwithstanding the care and physic from which the doctor had hoped such great things, on Christmas Eve little Dodie went to Heaven with a smile on her face, and stretching out her little hands as if someone had come to fetch her.

"I think Mother must have come for her," said Geoffrey in a low voice, as they stood round the schoolroom fire talking about it all.

"Yes," said Jack between his sobs, "Perhaps she was sent to fetch her, lest she should be afraid of all the new people in Heaven. Even kind Abraham might frighten her a little, she was always afraid of people with beards—but she wouldn't mind them a bit, if Mother fetched her."

Geoffrey nodded quietly. He did not cry. He had not shed a tear.

When once little Dodie had breathed her last, all sense of his own loss vanished in the overwhelming thought of what his Father's sorrow would be, when he found Dodie had gone.

CHAPTER VI.

THEIR MOTHER'S CHRISTMAS PRESENT.

It was Christmas Eve. The London express was late on account of the heavy storm of snow that had fallen during the day. Thomas, the coachman, muffled up, though he was in his fur cape, felt another quarter of an hour's waiting would freeze him to his seat, and his hands to the reins.

He had been walking the horses up and down for at least an hour outside the station, and the signal was still up.

He had not, however, much longer to wait.

A few minutes more and the red light of the approaching train came into sight, and before long the homeward journey had begun.

Thomas was thankful that his master's enquiries on seeing him, had been after his coachman's wife and family, and not after his own children.

He had been dreading the interview at the station, and was glad when he found himself driving the horses towards home, with his master safely inside the carriage.

"I couldn't, couldn't keep her alive for you, Father," he sobbed.

Major Fortescue, was a man in the prime of life, with hair nevertheless slightly tinged with grey. He sat leaning back in the carriage, his hand over his eyes. He was passing through deep waters during that drive, and he was thankful that in passing them, he was alone and in the dark, with no eye but that of God upon him.

How different was the home coming to that to which he had looked forward.

Even now, though he knew what pain the awakening would cost him, he allowed himself to imagine for a few moments what it might have been—to picture his sweet wife standing at the door to welcome him, to feel her in his arms again, to kiss her dear forehead, eyes, lips once more. Only half an hour might have been standing between him and her—as it was, five, ten, perhaps twenty years might be between them. He groaned audibly.

His face blanched as suddenly the carriage turned in at the gate, and he caught sight of his three boys standing in the open doorway, with a row of servants behind. For a moment he felt utterly unable to control his feelings, and trembled.

Then with a desperate effort, he turned the handle of the door and sprang out, to find his eldest boy fling himself into his arms.

Geoffrey's self-control gave way at last.

"I couldn't, couldn't keep her alive for you, Father," he sobbed, thinking of little Dodie, who lay so still and sweet in the nursery upstairs.

Major Fortescue, with his thoughts full of his wife, grew a shade paler with his effort to keep calm.

"My poor lad," he said, stroking the rough curly head of the boy.

Geoffrey, supposing from his Father's words that Thomas had informed him of Dodie's death, gave a sigh of relief and grew calmer, as his Father kissed his other little boys, and shook hands warmly with faithful old nurse, who stood sobbing in a corner, and with the other servants.

He had a kind word for each, and no one could have guessed what an effort it cost him. He showed no sign of inward agitation at all, except his exceeding paleness.

"Will you come and see Dodie?" whispered Geoffrey at last, taking him by the hand.

Major Fortescue had missed Dodie from the beginning, but it being late in the evening, he took for granted the child had been sent to bed and he was not sorry. He was glad that he could look upon his little girl, whom everyone had described to him, as being the living likeness of her mother, with no curious eyes upon him. He had dreaded, yet longed to see her, and of all his children, he had thought most often of seeing little Dodie.

He therefore followed Geoffrey without a word towards the nursery.

Geoffrey opened the door softly, and walked on tip-toe across the dimly-lighted room, towards the little crib in the corner.

There was something about the general aspect of the room, and the strong smell of sweet flowers, that made Major Fortescue's heart suddenly stop beating.

He stood on the threshold perfectly still, as if he had received a blow, and then followed his little son, whose head was now reverently bent over the crib, and stood by his side without a word.

Dodie had her little hands crossed over her breast, holding a beautiful white flower. There was still the sweet smile on her lips, and her curly hair lay in clusters over her forehead.

It struck Geoffrey at that moment that after all Dodie was dressed in white to see her Father, and was looking her sweetest and best.

Then Geoffrey looked up at his father, to his dying day he never forgot the look he saw on his face, nor the sound of his voice as he said quietly:

"The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord."

* * * * *

They gave away the Christmas presents next morning after breakfast.

"Father," said Geoffrey, as afterwards they stood round the fire, "I was thinking last week that we couldn't give Mother a Christmas present, but after all, she has our best, for she has Dodie."

THE END.

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Table of Contents

- GEOFF'S LITTLE SISTER.

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- CHAPTER VI.

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