Part 2

"Very happy, darling," said Mama, smiling down on her through her tears. "I was thinking how good and grateful we ought to be to Him, who has guarded us all these long years, and now brought us together again.

"Safely and well," added Papa.

"And, my Lena, we all must try to show our love and thankfulness not only in words, but in very deed and truth."

At that moment a knock was heard at the door, and Milly looked in. "As you were not in your room, Mama, I thought you must be in here," she said.

"Looking at your beloved sea," said Papa, holding out his hand to her to come and join them.

"Is Milly so fond of it?" asked Lena.

"Yes, so fond that we were thinking of making a present of her to the captain of our ship," said Papa, laughing.

"I have the sea here, and you as well, and," she added shyly, "Lena too."

"True, most sensible of little women; but, Lena, you must not think she is always so alarmingly sensible, for alas!"--and here Papa shook his head with affected sadness,--"she does love fun and romping sometimes."

Millicent laughed as Lena exclaimed eagerly--

"Oh, I am so glad, for I do, and I do want her to be my companion; we can have such fun on the rocks, Milly."

"Yes, dear; I trust you will be firm friends as well as companions. Milly has been longing for sister Lena."

"And I have been longing for her," was Lena's answer.

"You have been very quick putting Lucy to bed: was she good?" asked Mrs. Graham.

"Oh, Hester did that; she was quite good with her, and Aunt Mary said I had better not stay, for she wanted her to grow accustomed to Hester."

"And where are you to sleep?"

"In the room with Lucy. I took off my things there, and I thought you might want me to help you."

"Oh, let me do that to-night," pleaded Lena.

"I shall be glad of help from you both. We have been idling our time away here talking instead of getting ready for dinner, and nothing is unpacked."

So saying, Mrs. Graham returned to her room, followed by the two girls, and very soon they were both busily engaged, undoing parcels, and getting out things that were required for the night. At first they delayed one another by both working at the same box, and strewing its contents over the floor. Such dreadful confusion ensued from this, that Mrs. Graham proposed that one should do the unpacking, while the other put the things away tidily in the drawers.

"Who shall unpack?" asked Lena.

"Well, I think you had better, and Milly can put away, for she knows what we shall require at first."

"I shall know soon, too, shan't I?" asked Lena; "but I like unpacking best, and seeing what you have got."

"You will never get through your work if you stop to examine and admire everything," said Mrs. Graham, as she watched her taking a good look at each thing she brought out of the box.

Milly took the opportunity while she was stooping down to take some clothes out of Lena's arms, to whisper, "I like the flowers so much."

"Do you know which are meant for you?" she asked, stopping in her work for a reply.

"Yes, the primroses, Aunt Mary told me. I think them lovely."

After this they worked away busily until dinner-time. Then, when the bell sounded, Lena rushed off to tell Aunt Mary what she had been doing, and also to inform her that they were all dear darlings; and, "what did Auntie think of Milly?"

Auntie's opinion was very favourable.

Then Lena suggested, "But don't you think she is very quiet?"

"She is very sweet and gentle, and I think very shy; but as you know, Lena, I do not dislike a little bit of shyness in children; it is far, far better than being forward."

"But not too shy?"

"Milly is not that; and I feel sure that you will be great friends as well as loving little sisters before long."

This conversation took place as they went down to the drawing-room, Lena hanging on to her Aunt's arm, as she eagerly questioned her. Finding no one in the drawing-room, Lena began again--

"Isn't she tall, Auntie, nearly as tall as I am?"--the "she" alluded to being, of course, Milly.

"Quite as tall as you are, I think, though that is not such an enormous height, for"----

"No, I know," burst in Lena; "I wish I was taller, because people will never believe that I am so much older than she is."

Miss Somerville laughed as she answered, "I do not think that that need cause you unhappiness, dear."

The entrance of Mrs. Graham and Milly put an end to their conversation; then Colonel Graham came in, and they all went into the dining-room.

After dinner the two sisters went off together to Lena's room, to see all her treasures. There had been a certain constraint and shyness between them, as is so often the case with children in the presence of their elders. When they were alone, this wore off very quickly, and soon they were chatting away together, the best of friends; and although Lena's tongue was going at a gallop, Milly managed to keep up a very good second.

When Aunt Mary came to tell them it was time to go to bed, she found them seated, side by side, on the floor, Milly clasping in her arms "Millicent Lucy," while Lena held forth on the doings and sayings of Aunt Mary and herself; and promising Milly all sorts of delights, in both their names.

"O Auntie, we are having such a nice talk."

"Which I have come to put an end to."

"Already?"

"Yes, dears; it is prayer-time now."

At this both girls jumped up, and Dolly being put away carefully, the two girls followed their Aunt downstairs, hand clasped in hand.

Later, Mama went up with her two girls to see Lucy. Such a pretty picture she made, Lena thought, as she looked down on the chubby little face, all flushed with sleep, one small arm thrown over her head, and the fair curls all tossed about in confusion. As Mrs. Graham looked down on her little one, her heart swelled with love and gratitude at once more having all her children with her. Putting an arm round each of the others, she said in a low voice, "I trust, darlings, that you both thanked Him to-night for His great mercy to us all?"

"Yes, Mama," Milly whispered, shyly. "And for letting Lena be so nice and kind, and Aunt Mary too."

"And, Mama, I have to thank Him for double as much as Milly has, for I have four of you all at once, and you are all just as nice as I hoped and expected."

"I am glad you are not disappointed in any of us, darling," answered her mother with a smile; "but we must not talk any more beside Lucy or we shall awake her."

"I may give her one kiss, please, Mama," said Lena; "she does look such a sweet!"

"Only one, and try and not to awake her, dear," was the answer. Then they left Milly, and Mama took Lena to her room, and said good-night.

Aunt Mary had been in and given her good-night kiss, and Lena was just falling off to sleep, all sorts of pleasant happy thoughts passing through her mind, in the confused sort of way that so often happens after anything pleasant has occurred--thoughts half real, half dreams, all jumbled up together in hopeless confusion, but very sweet withal,--when the door of her room opened very gently, but still making just noise enough to call forth the sleepy question, "Auntie, is that you?"

"No, darling, it's Mama."

"Mama!" she exclaimed, raising her head and rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"I could not go to sleep without one more look at my newly restored treasure."

Throwing her arms round her mother's neck, she said fervently, "I am so glad to have you, Mama; and I will be a treasure to you and be so good, indeed I will."

"God grant it, my darling," was Mama's answer to her as she laid the sleepy little head on the pillow again. Then kneeling beside her child's little bed she thanked Him, in a few heartfelt words, for having watched over and guarded her little one, during those six long years of separation.

*CHAPTER III.*

*THE PETITION.*

The next few days passed away very happily. Having her sisters with her as companions quite equalled Lena's fondest expectations. Not a jar or a discord had broken the harmony of those days as yet. Milly was so nice, and always ready to admire and enjoy everything that Lena did or proposed; and as to giving up things,--certainly little Lucy did sometimes want what her elder sisters were playing with, but it was very easy to please and satisfy her, she was such a sweet little thing. Lena often wondered how Auntie could have feared her not liking to do it.

It was the end of April when the Grahams came to West Meadenham, and now May had arrived--bright warm sunshiny May, enabling them to spend most of their time out of doors, either in the garden or the fields. And nicest of all, many a happy hour was spent on the sands and among the rocks, while their parents and Aunt walked up and down the Parade, watching them, or would sit with books and work on the shingle, ready to listen to all their doings when they rushed up breathless and eager to recount them.

But these bright delightful days could not last for ever. The first change was Colonel Graham's leaving them for a few days on a visit to some relations; and Lena had a shrewd suspicion, from words that she had heard fall from Aunt Mary, that other changes were in store for them also; but at present she was too much occupied with her sisters to think much about it.

The day after Colonel Graham left, Mama and Auntie announced that they were going to be very busy, preparing Milly's and Lucy's summer-dresses, and that they wanted Hester's assistance, so the three children might play out in the garden together quietly.

"Not go to the beach to-day?"

"I am afraid not. You can be very happy without going there for one afternoon."

"But, Mama," argued Lena, "it is such a pity not to go to-day, because it's low tide in the afternoon, and we should be able to have such a nice long time on the rocks--do let us go."

"Run away now and play in the garden, and we will see what can be done about it after dinner."

"I do hope you will let us, Mama, Lena says."

"Never mind what Lena says, Milly. You must both do what you are told. It is not the way to gain your wishes by being disobedient."

The two girls went slowly and reluctantly from the room, and taking their hats, went into the garden.

What had come over them both I know not: perhaps it was that the last few days had been too pleasant, and they were beginning to think that things were always to be so for them; or perhaps it was that the first hot weather made them both feel a little bit cross and languid--it has that effect sometimes, I believe; but whatever the reason was, the fact was what I have stated: they both were feeling rather cross, and inclined to take a gloomy view of things. And their being told that they might not be able to go to the beach that day was a ready-made grievance for them.

They showed their feelings, however, in very different ways. While Milly went and sat down quietly on a garden-seat, and gazed wistfully at the object of her affections, the sea, Lena wandered about the garden in a restless, disconsolate sort of way. Lucy was busy playing by herself with a little cart and horse, and for a few minutes Lena played with her; but seeing Milly leaning forward and looking quite interested, she said hastily, "You must play by yourself now, Lucy; I want to go and speak to Milly."

It is a curious fact that when one is idle and unsettled, one is apt to get a feeling of being ill used at seeing any one else looking interested and occupied. This was what Lena felt when she saw her sister not looking dull and wistful as before, but with a bright and animated expression on her face. Going up to her she said, "Milly, what are you looking at?"

No answer. This was irritating, so she repeated her question in a louder tone. Instead of speaking, Milly held up her hands, as if to impose silence on her.

This was too much for Lena in her present mood. Giving her sister a push, she exclaimed angrily, "How rude you are not to answer me! What _are_ you looking at?"

"There now, Lena, you have spoilt it all."

"Spoilt all what? How tiresome you are, Milly!"

"I was counting the ships that passed, or that I could see, and I wanted to count twenty, and I had only got to fourteen when you disturbed me. Now I must begin again."

"Oh, that's silly. It's all very well when you are by yourself, but not when you have any one to play with."

"What shall we do then?" asked Milly, who was now getting over her disappointment; and as she was more accustomed to give up her own wishes than Lena was, she was naturally of a far happier disposition. Little Lucy had been her constant companion; and Milly was so fond of her little sister, that she never thought it hard or disagreeable to put aside her own pleasures and wishes to please Lucy. So now she found it easy to give in to Lena also. Lena had not found out how much pleasanter and happier life is when one studies the happiness of others. Her happiness had been so studied by Aunt Mary that she took Milly's good-natured assent as a matter of course.

"There is nothing nice to do here, the garden is so small; and Milly, don't you think that Mama might let us go to the beach? Aunt Mary would, I know."

"Mama will if she can; she always is good to us," and she gave Lena a reproachful look for her last words.

Lena noticed the reproach in both words and look, but she answered, without remarking upon it, "She would not even let us stay and ask about it. I always coax and coax Aunt Mary till she says 'Yes.'"

"Does she always say yes when you coax?" was the surprised remark elicited from Milly.

"Not always," Lena had to confess, "but sometimes."

There was a pause for a minute or two, and then Lena exclaimed eagerly, "Do you remember that man coming with a paper for Auntie to sign, and she told us it was a petition, and the man said the more people that signed it, the more likely it would be to succeed."

"Yes; what of that?" answered Milly in an independent tone. She had gone back to her occupation of counting the vessels in sight and was once more absorbed in it.

"I don't believe you listened to what I was saying; I do think it unkind of you."

At this accusation Milly started, and turning round, said gently, "I didn't mean to be unkind, but what has the petition to do with us?"

"O Milly, you are stupid. Don't you see what I mean? Wouldn't it be fine to write a petition to Mama to let us go to the beach?"

"Yes, let us: it would be something to do."

"I will go in and get a sheet of paper and a pencil, and then we will all sign it. Do you remember how it began?"

"Let me try and remember," said Milly with an air of wisdom, covering her face with her hands, as if to prevent any outside object from attracting her attention, only looking up, as Lena ran off to the house, to call out, "Mind and bring a pretty piece, Lena."

"All right," was the cheerful answer.

A few minutes after she returned with a packet of paper in her hand. "Look, I have brought 'terra cotta;' it's a very fashionable colour," was her announcement, as she held it out for her sister to see.

"It is not a very pretty colour though?"

"No, but the woman in the shop said it was very fashionable." This was said in a tone that admitted of no reply.

Laying the paper on the seat they both knelt down upon the ground, and each began to write. They decided on writing a rough copy first, and then, as Lena said, "she, as the eldest, would copy it out tidily."

"I took a look into the dictionary, to see that we were spelling it all right, for we mustn't make mistakes in that, or Mama and Auntie would laugh at us."

There was silence for a little while, as both heads were bent over their work: it was more difficult than they expected. At last Milly gave a great sigh, "I can't think where humble came; it did somewhere, I know."

"Yes, so it did. Now I remember; of course it ought to be at the end. We must put 'Your humble children.' Let me have a look at your paper. Why, I've got much more scratched out than you have. I've begun six times already."

"It's the beginning that is so difficult; but, Lena, I feel sure 'humble' was at the top somewhere."

"Who was that petition to, I wonder?" said Lena.

"I am sure I don't know." And they both burst out laughing. Their ill-humour had all vanished by this time and they were in high spirits.

"It must have been to the 'Queen.'"

"Then they would not have put 'humble Queen.'"

At this there came another explosion of laughter.

"To our humble Mother and Aunt." That certainly sounded quite wrong. They remembered that the words "Most Gracious" were what they had seen oftenest written before their Sovereign's name.

At last they decided to write one together; it was more amusing in doing, and also more likely to be successful. Their continual peals of laughter soon attracted Lucy's attention, and she hovered about them, quite ready and anxious to assist, and growing impatient at the long delay before she was allowed to sign her name.

After nearly an hour's work they wrote the following:--

"To our Most Gracious Mother and Aunt.

"Please, dear darling Mama and Auntie--please let us go to the beach this afternoon, because it will be low tide, and perhaps we shall be able to catch some little crabs. We love playing on the rocks, and do want to go so much.

"Your loving and humble children, "HELENA MARY GRAHAM. "MILLICENT GRACE GRAHAM. "LUCY CAROLINE GRAHAM.

"_P.S._--We don't want anybody to go with us, and we will be very good.

"OUR PETITION."

These last two words were written in very large letters at the bottom of the page. They had an idea that it ought to be written somewhere, so that there would be no mistake as to the nature of the document.

When this was all done, they surveyed their work with great pride. Then Milly ran in for an envelope, and the petition was folded up and put in, and the address written--

"Mrs. GRAHAM, "Miss SOMERVILLE."

Going into the house, they gave it to Emma the servant. Taking her into their confidence, they easily obtained her promise to ring the hall-door bell, and bring it into the dining-room on a salver.

"What time would you like it brought in?" she asked with a smile, quite entering into the spirit of the fun.

"Soon," said Milly, "or Lucy will let it all out."

"She had better not," began Lena.

"When I have handed round the plates I will get master to ring the bell, and then I will go out and bring it in."

That was a delightful arrangement, and now all they had to do was to impress upon Lucy the necessity of silence.

As they were still pointing out to her the dreadful consequences that would follow, if she mentioned a word about what they had been doing, Hester was heard calling them in to get ready for their dinner.

That something was exciting the children, was very quickly seen by both Mama and Auntie, from the frequent and meaning looks they exchanged, and from the state of suppressed excitement they were all in.

The hall-door bell was heard to ring.

"There it is!" exclaimed Lucy, eagerly.

"Hush!" came immediately from the other two.

Then Emma went out and returned with a letter, which she handed to Mrs. Graham, who on reading the address had great difficulty in suppressing a smile.

Opening the letter, she read it through carefully; then handing it to Miss Somerville, said, "It will require serious consideration before we give an answer."

"Oh, please, don't say that, Mama; we want an answer at once."

"Your Aunt has not even read it yet. After dinner my humble little children can come to me in the drawing-room, and then I hope to give them a gracious answer."

With this they had to be content, for not a word more would Mrs. Graham say on the subject until after dinner. Lucy was carried off for an hour's sleep; and Mama, seating herself on the sofa, drew Lena to her side, while Milly installed herself on the other side; then Mrs. Graham said--

"You are longing for an answer to your petition, I know, dears. First I must tell you that Auntie and I graciously assent to it."

"That means we are to go, Mama?" asked Milly.

"Thank you, thank you," exclaimed Lena; "I told you, Milly, if we coaxed them."

"No, Lena dear," interrupted her mother, "that was the very thing that nearly lost it to you. I could not promise when you asked me before, because I never like to break a promise, and I was not sure whether it would be safe for you three children to go alone."

"I could have told you it would," said Lena, reproachfully.

"But I preferred Aunt Mary's opinion," was her mother's answer, given with a smile.

"She thinks it safe, doesn't she, Mama?"

"Yes, but what I want to say to you now, is particularly to you, Lena. I saw my little girl thought I was very unkind in not consenting to her wishes at once, and now you think I have given leave because you begged and coaxed."

Lena blushed furiously at this, but nodded her head, as much as to say, "Yes, that is true."

"What I want you both, my children, to do, is to trust me. I think it gives me more pain to refuse you a pleasure, than you to be refused; and when I say No, try, darlings, and believe that Mama has some good reason for it."

"Yes, we will," they both exclaimed at once. Then Lena went on to say, "But, Mama, why didn't you tell us that you were not sure, and the reason, and then I could have told you it was quite safe to go alone?"

"In fact, dear, why did I not ask your advice, you mean?"

"No, I didn't mean that; only if you had said"----

"And what about obedience, Lena?"

Not receiving any answer, Mrs. Graham continued. "Perfect obedience, dear, is what Papa and I both expect from all our children; and by and by, when you know us better, you will find out that it is not only your duty but your happiness to give it. I think Milly knows that already."

"Yes, Mama, and I know how good you are, and always try to do what we like."

"And I hope Lena will soon think so too."

"You talk as if Milly loved you better than I do," said Lena jealously, "and I am sure she does not."

"No, darling, I did not mean that, for I am sure you both love me dearly. What I meant was that Milly knows me best, and understands my ways."

"And Lena will soon," said Milly, stooping across her mother to smile at her sister, "for we are going to be the greatest friends, aren't we, Lena? We have settled that a long time."

Then, after a loving kiss from Mama, the two girls went off together to get ready for their walk; and by the time buckets and spades had been hunted out, and they were both ready, Lucy had had her sleep, and was waiting for them in the hall.

"Be sure and come in by half-past five or six at latest. Auntie won't mind putting off Lucy's tea till then, I am sure."

No. Auntie was quite ready to do anything she was asked; and after many promises of being very good and careful, they started, Lena calling back, as they shut the gate, "You can trust them to me; I will look after them."

*CHAPTER IV.*

*ON THE ROCKS.*

The three girls started off hand in hand; Lucy between the two elder ones, holding a hand of each. As it was all down-hill, they went at such a quick pace that it was almost a run, and brought them very quickly to the esplanade. Here they stopped and took a look round.

As they had told their mother, it was very nearly low tide, and a long stretch of beach and rocks lay temptingly before them. Not a cloud was to be seen in the sky; and the waves broke so softly and gently on the shore, that it was hard to associate the thoughts of storms and raging winds with that sparkling, lake-like sea.