THE TRESPASSER

A few days afterwards Miss Falkner took Jack and Jill out for a drive in a low pony-chaise that was their special property.

Mona came out on the doorstep to see them start.

"I'm so glad you can drive, Miss Falkner," she said, "for I shall have no fears about the children with you as driver. The grooms can't be trusted. They give the reins to them, and Jack upset the whole concern just before you came."

"I used to drive as a tiny child," said Miss Falkner with heightened colour. "I have not done so lately, but one never loses the art."

Mona looked at her curiously. She began to feel a great interest in this young girl, who had so quietly taken the reins in the school-room and was slowly but surely influencing the young turbulent spirits in it.

The children were giving their pony sugar. Mona looked at them, then she laid her hand gently on Miss Falkner's arm.

"Some day you will tell me about yourself and your home," she said.

The quick tears sprang to the young governess's eyes. She felt as she stood there that the girl who spoke to her had all that the world could give her. She had as yet been untouched by the storms of life, and on her proud young face there were lines of discontent and restlessness that would never be effaced till she had learnt some of life's lessons, and perhaps been through the school of suffering.

They were very nearly the same age, were two blocks of stone, ordained for a building above; yet though one was cut and chiselled already, the other bore no impress of the Master's hand.

But the sympathetic touch and words struck a chord in Miss Falkner's heart. She forgot from that time that Mona Baron was her employer, she thought of her only as a girl who might need help.

"Now where shall we go, children?" she asked, as they drove down the sweet-smelling lime avenue into the high road.

"Oh, do drive up to Chilton Common," cried Jack; "there are such a lot of rabbits there, and we can see the sea from it."

So to Chilton Common they went. It was about four miles off, and at first sight looked a dreary expanse of wild moorland. As they crossed it, they caught the salt scent of the sea, and soon came to a cluster of poor-looking cottages, but beyond them in the distance was the unmistakable blue line of the ocean, and the children seemed delighted.

"I wish we lived by the sea," said Jill. "I like to be on the very outside edge of the earth."

"Why?" inquired Jack.

Jill seldom gave reasons for her likes and dislikes.

"Because I do," she returned sharply.

"Oh, look, Miss Falkner, there's our rector, Mr. Errington. He has a lot of people round him. P'raps he's preaching!"

Mr. Errington caught sight of them and smiled at the children, who were great favourites of his. Then he came forward.

"My horse has gone very lame," he explained.

"I am thinking of leaving him here at the blacksmith's and walking home."

"Can we give you a lift?" asked Miss Falkner.

"That will be very good of you. I shall be grateful for my wife will be expecting me and will be anxious."

"Jill thought you were preaching," said Jack. "Wasn't she silly? As if you'd preach on a weekday!"

"I wish I had been," said Mr. Errington with a smile.

Then he turned to Miss Falkner.

"These are my parishioners," he said, "and not one of them comes to church. They're just like heathen. It looks a God-forsaken place, does it not?"

"It seems a strange place to see cottages," said Miss Falkner. "How do they earn their living?"

"By peat-cutting, and working in a quarry a mile off. The blacksmith is unable to walk far, or I really think I should see him at church sometimes. The rest are totally indifferent to their soul's welfare. I am longing to build a little mission-room and come over and have a service for them, but it would cost money, and I have none to spare at present."

"It is a pity," said Miss Falkner gently. "One wonders sometimes if money drifted into the right channels whether this dense ignorance would be overcome. At my old home there was a district very like this. My father's curate was indefatigable in trying to raise money, and he eventually succeeded. It was a great success, for the people came to the mission church and sent their children to school. But he—" her voice faltered a little, "overworked himself, took cold and died, and my father followed him. The present rector does not care for the mission-room. He thinks they ought to come to church, and they don't do it."

Mr. Errington nodded with perfect comprehension.

"Of course not. It would want a good deal of zeal to walk eight miles after a week's hard work. Our English labourer will not do it."

They talked on, and much of the conversation was above the children's heads, but Jill was a sharp child, and she was already evolving a plan in her head, which had the effect of taking her to the Rectory the next day.

Mrs. Errington was a great invalid. When she was told that "Miss Jill Baron" wanted to see her, she said to her husband, who was overlooking some accounts with her:

"My dear Robert, we ought not to be disturbed. Shall we say we are engaged?"

"No," said Mr. Errington, leaning back in his chair with a laugh; "I am dazed with figures. Let us be refreshed by one of the fresh things in this world. There is nothing like a child for relieving one of care."

Jill was ushered in, flushed and excited. She could hardly wait to shake hands.

"Jack and Bumps are willing, and so I've come with it," she said. "It's to help to build that church on the common. Miss Falkner said we might, and I've brought it in our bag."

She put a scarlet flannel bag on the table, and went on—

"You see we haven't begun very long, so there's only a little to start with; but we shall always be putting in, because we often get presents, and I've spoken to Mr. Stone, and we've counted that his fifteen cabbages will bring him one shilling and tenpence halfpenny, and he says that had better be given to you too."

It seemed incoherent, but Mrs. Errington gently drew the explanation out of the child, and though Jill did not divulge the spot of their "Bethel," her account interested the rector and his wife greatly.

"It will be money well spent," Mr. Errington said, "for it will be the means of telling those poor folk of the love of the Saviour."

"And you will have the honour, Jill dear, of starting the collection," said Mrs. Errington.

"It's a pity," said Jill with knitted brows, "that you can't get every one to give you their tenth."

"I don't think there are many people who do give their tenth," said the rector.

"Miss Falkner gives all hers to the Church Missionary Society," Jill went on; "but Jack and Bumps and me thought we'd like to see where our money went."

"Wise little woman!"

Mr. Errington emptied the bag, and delighted Jill by giving her a formal receipt for it, and entering the sum in an account book. She ran away quite happy, waving her scarlet bag in the air, and wishing with all her heart that birthdays and Christmas, and all such occasions for receiving presents, would come every day.

"Mona is going to have a party," announced Jack one day soon after this. "I went into the drawing-room to give Miss Webb her pencil that I picked up, and she and Mona were talking about it. It is to be next Wednesday."

The children were just beginning their afternoon lessons; and Jill was washing her slate preparatory to doing a sum.

"How jolly!" she cried. "I hope she'll let us come to it. When is it to be? Is it a dinner party?"

"No, a garden party. It's going to be a very grand one. There's a band coming, and a tent for fruit and ices, and there will be tennis and croquet, and bowls and——"

"Now, Jack," said Miss Falkner quietly, "that is enough. Lessons now, and talk after."

It was hard to obey, but Jack put a restraint upon himself, and when lessons were over Jill determined to get no more news second-hand.

"Come on, Bumps. I'm going to ask Mona about it."

The little girls found their sister in her bedroom, getting ready for a drive.

"We've come to ask about the party," said Jill, who always went straight to the point. "We can come into it, can't we?"

Mona laughed, then she sat down in an easy-chair and took Bumps upon her lap.

"I hardly ever see you now," she said; "Miss Falkner keeps you all in such order. Why, Bumps, you are growing quite heavy."

"Yeth," assented Bumps, "I thmashed Polly's head by stepping on it. She's my thecond betht wax-doll, Mona!"

"You'll let us come to the party?" asked Jill persuasively.

"Yes, if you behave nicely. There may be two other children coming. Little Indian nieces of Mrs. Moxon's."

"Heathens?" questioned Jill.

Mona laughed merrily.

"Good gracious, no! What a ridiculous child you are."

Jill coloured up at once.

"I like boys better than girls," she said in her stubborn tone. "I know I shan't like them."

"You must be civil and kind to them, or else I shall send you back to the school-room. But perhaps that will be no punishment. I think you must have altered your mind about governesses, Jill."

"Yes," said Jill in a different tone. "But Miss Falkner is not like a governess. She's very fond of us, she says so!"

"Extraordinary! You don't say so!"

Mona laughed again, then put Bumps off her lap.

"Now run away, small people, and remember if you appear in the garden on Wednesday, you must be in the cleanest frocks and the sweetest tempers. Otherwise you must make yourselves scarce."

"Like the children walking to the Golden City," said Bumps trotting after Jill.

Jill looked down at her with troubled eyes.

"Sometimes I wonder where I am," she said, moved by the impulse of the moment to confide in her little sister. "I don't believe I get on very fast. I'm always losing my temper, and that means dirtying my frock."

"And then you have to wash it," said Bumps cheerfully.

"Yes," said Jill, with a light in her eyes; "I can do that, at least I can ask to have it done, but—" and here she relapsed into gloom again. "I sometimes wonder if it is ever clean for more than a minute!"

Wednesday came, and the three children sadly tried Miss Falkner's patience at lessons.

She closed books at last, and sent them out into the garden to play before their early dinner. They longed to go into Mona's portion of the grounds, but the head gardener kept them back. Tents were being erected; servants bustled about, and Mona herself, with Miss Webb and one or two gentlemen, seemed to be superintending everything herself.

At four o'clock Jill and Bumps, arrayed in their best white frocks, were down on the front lawn awaiting the arrival of guests. Miss Falkner in a pretty grey dress and hat stood talking to Miss Webb under the trees, and Mona, looking radiant in her youth and loveliness, dressed like her little sisters in pure white, with a spray of delicate pink roses in her breast, was talking and laughing with a few of her house guests. Jack presently came up to his sister. He was dressed in his white sailor-suit, and looked stiff and uncomfortable.

"Oh, Jill, I say, do let's get out of this. It's so dull and proper. You and Bumps look like the china figures on the school-room mantelpiece."

"Yes," said Jill; "it is very dull. Where shall we go?"

"Let us see how Bethel is getting on."

So the three made their way to the fir plantation, but met with several interruptions on the way. Jack chased a fowl which had escaped from the poultry-yard. Bumps would insist on stopping to watch the peregrinations of two frogs in some long grass, and Jill had a talk with Sam, who was cutting down a young tree. As they trod softly on the brown pine-needles underfoot Jack startled his sisters by a shrill whisper.

"Look! there's a trespasser."

Jill pressed eagerly forward. A tall broad-shouldered man in clerical clothes was standing reading the board. Then instead of turning away, he went up to the pile of stones, and bending down was in the act of lifting one of them out of its place to look at it, when Jill's indignant voice arrested him.

"You're a trespasser! We shall prosecute you!"

He turned round in astonishment, and his stern, rugged features were transformed by a smile, when he saw the daintily-dressed children before him.

"Is this your property?" he asked.

Jill was like a little bantam-cock.

"Every bit of it is ours, of course it is. You must have seen the board; we ain't going to allow any trespassers here."

"You'll have to be prothecuted!" cried Bumps breathlessly.

"Yes, Jill said she'd prosecute," said Jack, looking first at the stranger and then at his sister, as if measuring in his mind's eye their respective sizes.

"What is to be done with me?" asked the stranger with an amused look.

Jack and Jill put their heads together, and consulted in hurried whispers as to the best course to take.

Then Jill spoke very emphatically.

"We shall have to prosecute you, because you didn't care for our board. You saw it and you were going to move our stones. Jack and I think if you will walk between us and promise not to escape, we will go down to the policeman at our gate. Mona is having a grand party and he's here now, for we saw him. He'll tell us what to do."

"I think," said the trespasser, trying to look grave, "that you might fine me. Magistrates do that to some trespassers."

Jill did not understand this, but she was too proud to confess it.

"No, you must come to the policeman," she said. So presently skirting the tennis lawn the little procession passed. Jack and Jill marched on either side of him, Bumps walked behind.

"I can catch hold of his coat if he runs away," she said.

It was unfortunate for the children's plan that Mona should intercept them.

She moved from a shady tree on the lawn, and accompanied by two gentlemen confronted them.

A slight flush rose to her cheek when she saw the prisoner, and her voice faltered slightly.

"Mr. Arnold? I have not seen you for so many years that I hardly recognised you at first. You must be staying with Lady Crane; though she mentioned your name to me I never connected it with you. I am very glad to see you."

Her tone was more nervous than cordial. She introduced the other gentlemen with her to him. "Sir Henry Talbot. Captain Willoughby." Then she added lightly—

"I might have known I would find you in the children's company. I remember how fond you were of all small people."

"He's our prisoner," said Jack importantly, "and we're taking him to the policeman."

"A trethpather," put in Bumps excitedly.

"Yes, we're going to prosecute him," said Jill gravely.

Mona laughed, but Mr. Arnold looked grave enough as he said:

"Yes, I plead guilty, but I appeal to the present company that I should be let off a term of imprisonment by paying a fine."

"What does he mean?" asked Jill confidentially, addressing Captain Willoughby, who was always the children's friend.

"He means he'll pay down some money if you make him. What has he been doing?"

"He has been trespassing in our most private place. There's a board up, so there was no excuse."

"I think if he pays us some money we'll let him off," said Jack.

Mr. Arnold held out five shillings.

"It's a first offence," he said. "I'll never do it again."

"What shall we do with it?" asked Jill, taking the money and fingering it dubiously.

Mona had walked on with Sir Henry Talbot.

"Why," said Jack "we'll put it in our bag."

Jill's whole face brightened.

"Thank you," she said. "We'll forgive you then."

"You mercenary little wretches," said Captain Willoughby. "Is this a new game by which you fleece every stranger?"

"The money isn't for us!" said Jill indignantly. "It's for a kind of church."

Mr. Arnold looked at her, and gave one of his rare smiles again.

"I must hear about it," he said. "I should like to know where my fine will go."

He certainly knew how to gain children's confidences. Before very long on a garden seat Jill was telling him about it all, even about their cherished "Bethel."

She was rapidly making the trespasser into a friend.

"I am most interested," he said; "I am going back to a big manufacturing town soon, and I think I must try and get some of my boys and girls to put aside a tenth."

"Have you any little boys and girls of your own?" asked Jill.

"I am not a father," Mr. Arnold replied, "but I have all sorts and kinds of boys and girls who I consider belong to me. Little crossing-sweepers, and errand-boys, and miners, and school-boys, and factory-girls. And I have a few like you who enjoy plenty from their Heavenly Father."

"Did you know Mona long ago?" asked Jill.

"I knew her," said Mr. Arnold slowly, as his gaze travelled to a white-gowned figure in the distance, "when she was about as big as you, and we used to spend all our holidays together till we grew up. You ask your sister to tell you of our prank in the church tower with old Solomon Disher!"

"Oh, do tell me."

He shook his head. He saw Mona coming towards them again and he rose to meet her.

A few words that then passed between them puzzled Jill.

"Well, Mr. Arnold, tell me your news. I suppose you have never changed your opinion since we last met."

"No, I never have."

His eyes and mouth were stern as he spoke.

Mona looked at him thoughtfully, then as she met his gaze, she laughed lightly.

"Your spirit is still ruling your body. I can see that. And I suppose you would say that my body is still ruling my spirit. I think it is. I always told you I should take the easy path."

Mr. Arnold glanced at her, then he looked at the gay company on the flowered lawns, his ear caught the lively strains of the band, and his gaze wandered to the beautiful sloping hills and woods that formed a background to the charming old English house that was her property.

"A noble patrimony," he said in a low clear voice. "I would it did not belong to those who lay up treasure for themselves and are not rich toward God."

A crimson flush mounted to Mona's fair cheeks.

"Seven years ago," she said "we parted because of your unreasonable severity. Have we met to do the same this afternoon?"

A smile came to his lips.

"I hope not. I have lived and learnt to judge less harshly; but my aim is still the same. I hope my standard has not been lowered."

Mona shrugged her shoulders, then deliberately walked away from him.

Jill looked after her astonished.

"You have made Mona cross, Mr. Arnold."

"I am afraid I have," he said humbly. "Shall we come over to the tea tent?"

Jill was only too delighted.