Chapter 2

"What's that, pray?" replied Herbert, coming up close to his cousin with a scowl on his face and his hand clenched behind his back.

Charles was not in the least afraid of Herbert's threatening appearance, but answered stoutly,--"They would call you 'cheat;' and of the two names I'd prefer 'lady.'"

Herbert was neither restrained by the fact that his cousin was a guest in the house nor by the difference in their age, a double reason for treating him with forbearance.

Before Caroline had time to prevent him, Herbert had struck Charles a severe blow on the head, which knocked him down; and as he lay for some minutes almost senseless, the girls thought he was going to die, and screamed out for help.

Fortunately, nurse was passing the schoolroom door at the time, and hearing the noise, came in. Charles's face and head having been bathed, he soon recovered; and as Herbert seemed to have got a terrible fright, and to be truly sorry for his conduct, Charles was quite willing to forgive him, and to shake hands in token of friendship. During the remainder of their visit Herbert was very attentive to his cousins; and if any game was proposed by them, whether he thought it babyish or not, he never raised the least objection, but joined quite heartily in it.

Yet he had not given up his bad habits altogether; for he still went on with his teasing ways to his sister Caroline, both before his cousins' face and behind their back, till she began to think that, after all, as nurse had said, she would be glad when his holidays came to an end.

A few mornings after this, the children set out to fish in the river, and while walking round by the common they came upon a donkey standing all alone, without a bridle or even a rope on it. It was close to a large juicy thistle, but it did not seem to be eating it, and every minute or two it shook and trembled.

Lizzie was the first to notice it, and going closer, exclaimed, "I am afraid the poor beast must be ill."

"Tuts, what nonsense!" said Herbert; "donkeys are never ill. Don't you know they live for ever, Cousin Lizzie?"

"Well, I don't know about that," said Charles, going close up to the donkey and looking into its face; "all I can say is, if this poor beast isn't ill it looks very like it."

"It's nothing but a stubborn fit," said Herbert; and before any one could stop him he gave the donkey a lash with a switch he held in his hand, calling out at the same time, "Gee up, Teddy! come, get out of your sulks, sir!"

The donkey's flesh seemed to shiver, and he breathed harder, but his heavy eye never brightened.

"I tell you what it is, Herbert, I'll not see that poor animal ill-used in that manner," said Charles; "he's not sulky, he's ill!"

Herbert felt inclined to quarrel with Charles for his reproof, but Charles had spied a little boy sitting on a gate herding a cow, and he ran over to him to make inquiries who the donkey belonged to.

"Well, sir, the poor beast belongs to some travelling gipsies who are living t'other side of the common, and they left it here this morning because it couldn't go no further, and there it has stood before that 'ere thistle ever since."

Caroline now came up, and hearing that the donkey was ill beyond a doubt, she proposed they should go home and ask their mamma to send the stable lad with a hot drink to the poor animal. "I know when our pony was ill one day he got a hot drink and some medicine, and he very soon was all right again."

"I'm not going back, for one," said Herbert; "the idea of making such a fuss about a donkey; it's quite ridiculous!"

"Nobody is forcing you, my dear cousin," replied Charles cheerily; "you may go on to the river by yourself; but I for one couldn't enjoy myself, unless I had done something to help this poor animal in its distress."

"Well, I don't see why we all should stay because you choose to doctor an old donkey," said Herbert peevishly. "Come along, Lizzie and Carry; if you don't come at once we'll lose the best part of the day, and get no fish."

The girls, however, were quite as anxious about the welfare of the poor donkey, and declared their intention to stay with Charlie. They even did more, for they volunteered to go back to the house to get what was necessary for the animal, while Charlie and the herd-boy watched by him, ready to render any assistance if he should turn worse.

Caroline was fortunate in finding Stephens the gardener, who was considered very skilful in doctoring sick animals; at anyrate, he had set the leg of one of her chickens when it was broken, and managed to bring Neptune through a severe illness, therefore it was to be supposed he could cure the donkey also.

"Well, miss, I'll come and see him," said Stephens; "but if he is as bad as you say, I fear it's little I can do." To their great delight, however, when Stephens had examined him, he gave it as his decided opinion that the animal was suffering from a severe cold and over-work. "If we had him put into a warm house for a night, and gave him something warm to eat, I think he would soon be all right," said Stephens. "I might manage to make him up a bed in the root-house, if your mamma would have no objections."

Caroline and Lizzie ran back to the house again, and after telling the story, Mrs. Ashcroft gave permission that all attention should be paid to the sick animal; and while Charles and the herd-boy went over to the gipsy encampment to tell where their donkey had disappeared to, Caroline and Lizzie helped Stephens to make the donkey comfortable. Even in the short time they were beside him the poor animal seemed to be much relieved; and though at first he could scarcely open his mouth to eat the warm, soft mash Stephens had prepared for him, before they left he was beginning to nibble at a tuft of hay that had been placed for his use.

"Oh, I do wish Herbert had stayed to help us," said Caroline; "I really cannot understand why he doesn't take an interest in dumb animals. I wonder why he is so different from Charles. Your brother is seldom cross with you, not even when you are cross with him."

"No," said Lizzie; "he is really a good kind boy; but I know somebody, not very far off, who is just as good and gentle as my brother Charles,--and that is yourself, you patient little puss."

"Oh, don't say that, Lizzie dear," said Caroline, with flushed cheeks. "I'm often hasty and ill-tempered, and make Herbert worse than he might be if I left him alone."

"Well," replied Lizzie, "all I can say is, if Herbert were my brother, I should be twice as hasty and five times as ill-tempered, for he is about the most provoking boy I know."

Charles returned in due time from the gipsy encampment, quite delighted with all he had seen of the people, and reported they had given up their donkey for lost; and, of course, they had been much gratified to hear it was likely to be restored to health and strength.

"I made them promise to leave the poor animal with us for a week," said Charlie; "and they say that they are quite willing, and mean to go on to the market-town, and return again for him."

"Oh, I was hoping they would remain in the wood for some time," said Lizzie. "I should like to see a gipsy encampment so much."

"And so should I," said Carry. "Nurse is always so frightened for the gipsies, she won't allow us ever to go near them. But, perhaps, when we take the donkey back they will be civil, and not steal our clothes from us."

"Does nurse say they will do that?" said Charlie. "Oh, what a shame! I wouldn't believe it. They were so polite to me; and one old woman insisted upon telling me my fortune, and when I offered her a sixpence she wouldn't have it."

"And I suppose she told you some rubbish," said Herbert; "sent you riding off in a coach-and-four with your pockets full of money and your barrels full of beer?"

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Charlie, "she wasn't half so kind. She said I would grow up to be more than six feet high; that I would be a soldier or a sailor, which I don't intend to be; and that, after a great many difficulties, I would succeed in the world, and mumbled something about a clear opening and a straight uprising."

"That's because you didn't give her any money," said Herbert, laughing.

"Well, when they come back we'll have her to tell us ours," said Lizzie, "and see if the coach-and-four is to fall to our lot."

"But I don't think mamma would like us to have our fortunes told. I know she was very much displeased with one of the servants allowing the gipsy woman to tell her hers. If we want to see the encampment, we had better not have anything to do with the fortune-teller. Mamma says it is not only silly but wicked to inquire into futurity."

In about a week the gipsies returned; and the donkey being much better, he was taken over and restored to his rightful owners. He was so much improved with his rest and good treatment that they hardly knew him, and the whole of the gipsy children belonging to the encampment gathered round to see their old friend and companion. When the children from the Hall left, after inspecting the queer tents and everything else, they turned to look once more at the donkey and wave a good-bye to the gipsy man; and, as Carry said, poor Punch--that was the name of the donkey--was looking wistfully after them, and if the man hadn't held him firm, he seemed almost inclined to run after them. "Poor beast," as Charlie said, "after all his hard years of labour it was no wonder if he wanted a rest now."

The morning after Lizzie and Charles left, Caroline was unable to get out of bed with a sick headache, but was able to be down to dinner, where she found Herbert with rather a grave face, which did not escape the notice of his mamma; but as he always said, in answer to her question, there was nothing the matter, she thought he was only in one of his bad humours. She then told Caroline that she had seen little blind Susan, who was asking when she was to get another flower.

"I was just waiting for my china-rose to come out," said Caroline; "there is one bud on it, and you know I said Susan was to have the first rose, mamma."

If Caroline had looked at Herbert she would have been surprised to see his face become suddenly red; for the truth was, the rose-bud that Caroline had watched so carefully was hanging from the stem broken; and more than that, a great many flowers in her garden had been destroyed. It had happened in this way. Finding that his mamma had gone out, Herbert went into the garden with Neptune following closely at his heels. He had been forbidden to take the dog into the garden, but, trusting to Neptune's obedient disposition, he thought he could keep him on the walks. He did not expect to find a cat lying asleep under one of the garden-seats, else he would have acted differently; for Neptune had a terrible hatred to cats, and nothing could cure him of it. Therefore, when his eye fell upon the cat, he bounded off after it, and, regardless of the flowers, chased it right through Caroline's little border.

Herbert was very sorry, more so when he remembered how his sister had not told of his bad treatment during their walk by the river; but he was so afraid of his papa's displeasure, when it became known that he had taken the dog into the garden, that he made up his mind he would deny all knowledge of it. He was startled to hear his mamma telling Caroline it would be better to pull the rosebud now, as it would come out just as well in water, and last longer than if it were full-blown; so that if she liked to get it now, she might go with nurse, who was going to take some medicine to Susan's sick mother.

Caroline, who was always glad to pay a visit to blind Susan, went away at once into the garden, where she found Stephens the gardener leaning on his spade and rake, and gazing down in dismay at the broken and crushed flowers.

"O Stephens, who has done this?" said Caroline, almost ready to cry. "My beautiful rosebud broken, my poor flowers destroyed!"

Then Stephens told how he had seen Master Herbert walking about the garden with Neptune, and that, as he was at a distance, the flowers had been destroyed before he got up to the place. "But Master Herbert shall suffer for this," said Stephens; "I mean to tell his papa about it this very night."

Caroline knew well how severely Herbert would be punished, and her heart softened towards her brother. "Has Neptune done any harm to the other flowers?" she asked Stephens.

"No, miss," said Stephens; "for, do you see, the cat ran up that tree there, and got over the wall, and the dog kept dancing about among the flowers, trying to get his heavy body up after it."

"Well, Stephens," said Caroline, "since only my flowers have suffered, will you please not tell papa this time? I can get up early in the morning and tie them up a little, if you could help to rake it smooth for me."

"That is very kind of you, miss," replied Stephens, admiringly; "but what about the rose you have been watching so carefully all this week?"

"Isn't it strange?" said Caroline; "I came to pull it at mamma's request, and see, it is only broken with quite a long stem to it."

To Herbert's great surprise, Caroline returned with a bright smiling face, and said nothing about the state she had found her garden in.

The next morning Caroline got up much earlier than her usual time for rising, but not so early as she intended, for there was a good deal of hard work before her garden could be made neat again. Dressing herself quickly, she ran out, not even taking time to put on her bonnet, so eager was she to begin; when to her surprise, there was Herbert busy at work with a trowel smoothing the ground and propping up the earth round the crushed flowers. She stood for some time scarcely believing it possible, half thinking she must be dreaming; for Herbert was so fond of his bed, once he was in it, that it was always a very difficult matter to get him out of it. Now here he was, at six o'clock in the morning, hard at work, as if his very life depended upon it. She ventured at last to step close up to him, and tapped him on the shoulder, not very sure whether he would feel angry or pleased to be caught at his novel employment. She did not notice that her mamma was standing by the garden gate; for Mrs. Ashcroft, having a bad headache, had got up early also, and had come out, in the hope that the morning air would take it away.

"It is very good of you, dear Herbert," said Caroline, while their mamma paused to look at her children. "I was just coming to arrange them, when I find you, like that kind fairy-man in my new book, setting everything in order."

The idea passed through Herbert's mind for a moment that perhaps Caroline did not know how her flowers had been broken, and so he need not tell her he had had anything to do with it. He had felt very miserable ever since it happened, thinking that his papa would be certain to find it out and punish him, and at the same time he was ashamed when he thought of his unkind treatment of his sister. It was only for a moment he hesitated, however; then turning frankly round, he said, "I am very sorry, Carry, your garden has been destroyed. It was all my fault, but I did not mean it. I took--"

"Yes, I know," said Caroline, interrupting him; "but don't say any more about it, we can easily get it put right again; indeed, you have done a great deal already. How early you must have been up!"

"Yes," said Herbert, with a smile; "I was down here when the clock struck four. I was up even before the sun. But I must say, Carry, it is good of you to pass it over. I won't forget it in a hurry, I can tell you."

Caroline asked him not to say another word about it, and, as she turned to go to the tool-house, she saw her mamma looking at them very seriously.

Herbert, with downcast face, was compelled to tell how disobedient he had been in breaking through his papa's express order not to take Neptune into the garden. His mamma was very angry with him, but after giving him a severe scolding, she said she would not punish him this time, as he had tried to repair the damage done by getting up so early, and also because Carry had made the request after being the chief sufferer.

As it was still early, their mamma bade them run for their hats, and she would take them a walk till breakfast was ready. Before they set out, she gave each of them a drink of milk and some biscuits, as they were not accustomed to be out so early. It was a lovely morning, and the children enjoyed the walk very much. As they were returning home, they passed by a part of the park where their papa allowed a number of sheep to graze; and as they were looking over the paling, one of the sheep came close up to them and began to bleat.

"I am sure, mamma," cried Caroline, "that must be my pet lamb's mother; can she be wanting me to bring Daisy back again to her, do you think?"

"Well, I scarcely think it is likely, dear," replied her mamma; "but how do you know it is Daisy's mother?"

"Because she has a queer sort of tuft of wool on her forehead," said Caroline, while both her mamma and Herbert laughed at her for supposing that no other sheep but Daisy's mother had a tuft. "It really is," she said decidedly, though joining in the laugh. "Oh," she continued, "what a pity a pet lamb grows up into a sheep. Only think of my poor Daisy's white face getting dirty and torn like that great stupid-looking sheep over there!"

"Yes, I used to think so too," said her mamma, "when I had a pet lamb."

As they came round by the wood on their way home, Caroline said she would like so much to get some of the beautiful wild-flowers for her garden. Herbert did not say anything at the time, but he determined to get up early the next morning also, and give her a pleasant surprise by getting a basketful for her. One might have expected that before the next morning came he would have quite forgotten all about it; but no; when the servant called him at six o'clock, as he had requested her to do the night before, he jumped out of bed at once. He knew of a deep dingle at some distance from the house, where many kinds of wild-flowers were to be found; so he made up his mind to go there instead of to the wood. The dingle was down in a woody hollow, such as the "Babes in the Wood" might have been lost in; and there were so many plants and ferns, that Herbert was often at a loss what to choose. However, his basket was full at last, and he hurried home, hoping to have them all planted before Caroline came down-stairs. When he was planting them it came into his mind how much improved Caroline's garden would be if there were a small arbour at the side of it; and he determined to ask his mamma's permission to get the wood, and make it during his holidays. When he went into the dining-room, after carefully washing his face and hands and changing his muddy boots, he found his mamma standing with an open letter in her hand, reading it aloud to his papa.

It was from his grandmamma, who lived some miles from them, and who had written to ask if Caroline might be allowed to spend a few days with her, to help to entertain their two cousins, Harry and Maud, who had just arrived from Australia. Herbert had got into disgrace during the last visit he paid his grandmamma; but still he felt vexed at being left out of the invitation, as he was curious to see these new cousins. His regret was softened, however, when he thought there would now be a good opportunity for making the arbour, so as to repay Carry for the injury done to her garden. This thought made him very glad. It was decided that Caroline should go that same day, and as she had a great deal to do in helping nurse to pack her little trunk, and give directions about her numerous pets, she did not once go near her garden.

Herbert could not help saying before she left, "I am so sorry I am not a kinder brother to you, Carry; I do mean, however, to be better to you in the future."

"Oh, don't say that, Herbert," replied Carry; "I know it's just in fun, and I am so stupid to look vexed. I love you dearly, for you are my own kind good brother," and she clasped her arms round him in a fond embrace.

"That's all very well," said Herbert, returning the affectionate pressure; "but I am sure I am not like Cousin Charlie. He is a kind brother really, and always seems to be able to do and say the right thing at the proper time; and as for being cross with Lizzie, he would sooner think of flying."

"Well, we shall say nothing more about it, dear," said Caroline kindly. "All I have to say is, I'd rather have you for my brother, though Charlie is as good a boy as ever lived, I do think. Let us forget everything disagreeable to-day, as I am to leave home so soon. Oh dear! I was forgetting; I promised Daisy, my lamb, I would have a romp with her before dinner, and the bell will ring very soon!"

They at once ran off, and getting the lamb from its snug house, proceeded to the wood, their favourite resort.

"I wonder whether she will know you when you return," said Herbert, as he stood watching his sister tying a bright piece of ribbon round her lamb's neck.

"O Herbert, please don't say that!--what a dreadful idea!" replied Caroline. "I really don't think she will ever be so ungrateful!--indeed, I am sure she will know me if I stayed away ever so long. Now, Daisy, am I not right?" she continued, kneeling down before her pet; "you will love me always, even after you are a great fat sheep, and I have grown up into quite a big girl."

Daisy seemed to be quite impressed with the solemnity of the occasion, and put out her black tongue to lick her mistress's hand, as much as to say, I will never forget you--never.

"Now, Herbert, you see I have tied the little bell round her neck, and if Miss Daisy goes where she ought not to go, you will hear her and can put her out; but I hope she will be a very good lamb, and trouble nobody."

"I'll look after her, never you fear," said Herbert cheerily; and hearing the dinner-bell, they returned to the house.

When she was safely off, Herbert told his mamma of the plan he had in his mind; and as she was very much pleased to see that her boy was trying to "turn over a new leaf," she gave her consent at once, and said that Stephens might take the pony-cart and help him to get the poles and wood he required from the saw-mill. Early and late Herbert was at work, and so diligent was he that his mamma had often to stop him, in case he should hurt himself.

"I am afraid," he would say, "Carry will be home before it is done. I do so wish to surprise her. I can't help thinking, as I work here by myself, mamma, what a kind-hearted, good little thing Carry is; and I hate myself when I think how I have vexed and teased her all her life."

His mamma spoke very seriously to him, pointing out how much happier he must feel by trying to please his sister than by vexing her; and saying that poor Carry's sweet, gentle disposition might have been spoiled altogether, if he had not been sent away from her to school. "Ah," said Mrs. Ashcroft, "you ought to have seen how she missed you, and how she wandered about for days after you left, with such an unhappy little face! You ought indeed to love her, Herbert, and be proud to do her a service, because she is a good sister to you."

Herbert manfully said he meant to be a good brother for the future, and never to tease her any more, for he saw he had been nothing but a coward all along.