A Most Provoking Girl. A tale of the East Coast, etc

Front matter

AiWTPRQWKINGGIRL "GREAT HEADLANDS BY THE SEA-A LONELY LAND, WITH FISHERS' HUTS BESIDE THE YELLOW STRAND, WHERE WAVE ON WAVE IN FOAU AND THUNDER BREAKS, OR ELSE A TRANQUIL BLUE HORIZON TAKES SUNLIGHT AND SHADOW." WILLIAM ALLINGHA.M. A MOJT PR9V9KING GIRL A TALE OF THE EAST COA5T < AUTHOR OF CTHE HOUSE OF CARGILL"-''TEnPTED"- Elf * DECORATED * "V JOSS PH BR9WN OLIPHANT ANDERSON 8 FERRIER EDINBURGH V- LONDON: BOOKS BY MARGARET MOYES BLACK. Crown Svo, cloth extra, illustrated, price 2s. 6d., In Glenoran. Small crown Svo, illustrated, paper covers, Is.; cloth, Is. 6d., Between the Ferries. Tempted. An Episode. Disinherited. A Woman and Pitiful. A Deeside Story. The Ghost of Gairn. A Tale of the '45. The House of Cargill. A Tale of the Smuggling Days. Large crown Svo, doth extra, price 3s. 6e?.f A Most Provoking Girl.

A Tale of the East Coast. ESinburgb anS IcnSon : OLIPHANT ANDEKSON & FEERIER. MORRISON AND OIBB, PRINTERS, EPINBFROH. Cf Iprologue But (dropping parable) I deem That if thine utmost thoughts should say I feel some power to help mankind To make or keep them wise or gay — According as that power may be Toil thou, or write, or sing, or dance, And give as much of this to God As He permits through circumstance. You, Jonas, have to trade and preach ; Some have a scholar's work to do, Or courtier's, soldier's, artist's work, And God will bless both them and you." From Jonas Fisher, By Lord Southesk, s CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. THE ARRIVAL OF A LETTER .... 9 II. THE ARRIVAL OF THE CHILD . . .24 III. INCONGRUITIES . . . . . .38 IV. THE INCONGRUITIES AMALGAMATE . . .49 V. WAS THERE EVER SUCH A CHILD ? . . .60 VI.

SCHOOLDAYS ...... 72 VII. A HERO TO THE RESCUE . . . .86 VIII. THE KESTREL'S NEST . . . .99 IX. GRANNIE SITS IN JUDGMENT . . .112 X. FROCKS ARE LENGTHENED .... 125 XI. AT A SUPPER PARTY. .... 132 XII. "THE LORD HAD NEED OF HER" . . 145 XIII. VERY LONELY . . . . .157 XIV. "I SHALL GO TO HEP." .... 164 XV. LONELIER STILL . 171 XVI. CLIMBING THE LADDER .... 183 XVII. NEW RELATIVES . . ■ ■ .196 XVIII. IN A DIFFERENT WORLD .... 209 XIX. THE SQUARE PEG IN THE ROUND HOLE . . 219 CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE XX. "I HAVE MADE MY CHOICE" . . . 229 XXI. UPHILL WORK ..... 241 XXII. A CURE OF SOULS ..... 249 XXIII. A FAMOUS ACTRESS ..... 265 XXIV. THE LAST GLIMPSE OF A HERO . . . 279 XXV. "SAID, 'NO, THANK YOU, TOM,' BUT TOOK IT ALL THE SAME" ... . CHAPTEE I THE ARRIVAL OF A LETTER ' : The goodwife looked at the goodman And wistfully she smiled, But he spoke out with never a doubt, 1 We'll keep our orphan child ! ' " M. B. Smedley.

Chapter II The Arrival Of The Child

" The face and the voice of a child, are assurance Of heaven and its promise for ever." Swinburne. FEBEUAEY had for more than a fortnight been earning its old title of " February fill the dyke, either wi' black or white," as, on the Scotch north-east coast at least, rain had foUowed snow and snow had succeeded rain with a beautiful impartiality ever since the beginning of the month. Now, though St. Valentine's Day was past, and, according to every revered tradition, birds should have sought their mates " and floweres 'gan to blow," there were lying at every dyke and hedge side piled-up, half-melted snow-wreaths, white and fair no longer, but soiled and brown with the partial thaw, while the pelting showers that scudded before a bleak nor'-easter were quite as much sleet as rain. Eaw, miserable weather it was, bad alike for man and beast, but worst of all for the sailors out at sea and the gallant Coastguard and fishermen 2* who took the lifeboat through the surf at the river's mouth every time — and the times were not few — that fishing-boat or coasting lugger failed to round the hghthouse point and got driven into that cruel churning surf with its strong under-current, that meant certain death to a shipwrecked crew unless the brave lifeboat men came to the rescue.

Come to the rescue they did, over and over again, that stormy February, so that the new lifeboat had a grand record, and thirty hves all told were added to her hst of rescues. On her very last trip one of her crew got his arm broken by some floating wreckage, and no one could prevent old Lieutenant Chalmers taking his place in the boat, and with his hearty voice and genial presence cheering the men, as, tired and drenched, they took their fifth trip for that day, to bring off the survivors of the latest vessel that had drifted, disabled and helpless, into the bay, and was fast having the hfe beaten out of her by the surf. It was a small Newcastle coal barge, and the sole survivors were a httle boy and his dog ; — a bonnie curly-headed laddie of thirteen, who held the terrier tight in his benumbed arms, and who had with dilated, frightened eyes seen every one swept off the wreck but himself, as, after having vainly tried to make the mouth of the Tay, she had beaten up the coast mastless and rudderless, and almost waterlogged.

The Lieutenant had given his thick new winter greatcoat to wrap round the boy and the dog when they got them to land, and had walked home without it, shivering and wet through, in the sleet laden wind. He had very naturally had a cold in consequence, and Mrs. Chalmers, indignant, though proud of him, had treated him in vain with mustard and hot water, gruel and stiff grog, for the cold was obdurate. And now, at the end of the week, he was still coughing hoarsely by the fireside, with his feet on the fender, his pipe in his mouth, and a very sorry-for-himself expression on his face — especially when big Bob, his next in command, came in to give his report and to take orders, the giving of which from his arm-chair made the sturdy old salt feel miserably shelved and helpless. The weather had been wretched, so that, except for one evening when the minister and the school master had dropped in to ask for him and have a rubber of whist, he had seen no one, and had been reduced to nightly bezique with his wife, and a steady perusal of the daily paper, varied only by a tramp about the house by way of exercise.

Pacing the httle passage with hands behind his back and head well up, as he used to pace the deck of the Petrel, he was an embodied patience which proved very trying for Barbara, when with pail and soap she appeared to wash the waxcloth. " Guid-sake, Lieutenant ! " she would say ; " what are ye walkin' back an' forrit here for ? Can ye no' bide in yer chair an' lat me get my wark done ? Ye're an oneasy body to deal wi' i* noo ! " " Maybe, Barbara," he rephed meekly ; " but I've had too much of my chair this week back, and I thought perhaps you would have swabbed decks before breakfast." " Afore breakfast ? Na, na, that may be a' verra fine for men folks 'at are keepit at the expense o' Queen an' kintra, but ye'U no' find me burnin' fire an' cannle an hour afore breakfast i' the dark month o' February, for what can as weel be done ester 't by the hcht o' day !

So awa' ben the house, sir, an' leave me to polish my lobby." There was nothing for it, of course, but to obey, and pace the httle dining-room instead, tiU the post and the newspaper arrived to bring some diversion. As to Mrs. Chalmers, these forenoon hours were sacred to household mysteries so manifold, that, considering the size of the house and the small number of the household, one wondered where they came from ; but she was the careful daughter of a careful mother, and saw duties innumerable where modern eyes would only discover excuses for laziness. So this morning, when the Lieutenant heard the heavy tramp of Sandy Baird the postman's feet go round to the back door, he haded the event with joy. It meant the Scotsman at anyrate, for Sandy carried it out from town every morning ; and possibly there might be a letter also, although not many of them, save official ones, came to The Haven ; and perhaps Sandy would have some scraps of local gossip which Barbara, who was above all things a born raconteur, could not, however busy, resist retailing when she brought in the newspaper.

" Aye," he could hear Sandy's voice saying, " a saft mornin' ! Hoo's the maister the day ? " And then, Barbara's reply from the inside of the door being inaudible, he listened again for Sandy. "Aye, aye; a bittie better is he? weel, that's hearty ! Oo', I'll come inside an' gie ye ma news ; there's nae hurry; the roads is heavy, so 111 be gey an' late onyway, an' twa-three meenutes mair 'U no' maitter." At which doubtful postal morality the old gentleman chuckled. Had Sandy been one of his Coastguardsmen, such a derehction from duty would have been promptly dealt with, but with the other branches of the pubhc service the Lieutenant felt he was not caUed upon to interfere ; and when Barbara let Sandy, wet and muddy, into her clean kitchen, it evidently meant news, and news on such a day as this was a godsend, so he settled himself to watch the rain on the window-panes patiently, and awaited the course of events.

In ten minutes or so he heard Sandy, out in the open again, calling back — to Mrs. Chalmers this time — " Oo' aye, mem, it'll be a letter aboot the puir Captain's bit bairnie." The neighbourhood gave poor Peter his step, now that he was for ever removed from the possibihty of formaUy receiving it. They felt it a due polite ness to the distinguished dead. " They were telhng me that at the post office ; they'd had a guid look at the bit stampies on it, ye see. Guid mornin', mem, though there's httle guid aboot it, for it's awfu' weather ! " and, bang ing the gate, Sandy tramped off on his belated round. There was a minute's fussling in the kitchen, for Barbara knew far too weU the value of news and letter to bring either in too hurriedly, then the dining-room door opened, and she entered, and, solemnly laying the letter and the newspaper on the table, said — " That's a letter aboot the bairn, Sandy says, and the mistress says she's takin' aff her apron, an' will be doon to read it i' the noo."

And with the pre tence of hurry, Barbara made for the door. " Thank you, Barbara. Sandy's weU the day?" " As far as I ken, sir — he said naething to the contrary. He was speerin' for ye." " That was kindly of him." Again Barbara made a feint of retreat ; it was not dignified to bestow gossip on her master unless she was pressed for it, and the same little play went on morning after morning. So shamefacedly the old man had to put his desire into words and say — " And, Barbara — was Sandy telling you any news ? — is there anything goin' on in the town ? " " Oh, weel, no' sae muckle as to waste my time on, I'm thinkin' ; he had a bittie claver or twa, the haverin' body." And Barbara tossed her head as one above all such follies, and again made for the door. " Well, Barbara, if you can spare a minute, you might give me any clashes he was giving you, for in this weather there's entertainment in anything," the Lieutenant said beseechingly.

" 'Deed, sir, there's something in that, as I was sayin' to him mysel', or I wadna hae ta'en the time to hsten to him." And once fairly launched, Barbara started off fuU sad on the stream of local gossip. " Ye ken the bairn and the dowg ye got the cauld giein' yer coat to, sir ? Aweel, the toun's ta'en an unco interest in them. The laddie was the captain's ae bairn, and mitherless, they say, so the provost, hearin' teU he was feared to gang to sea again, — an' nae wonner ! — is gaun to tak' him for's ain gairden laddie, dowg an a', an' he's to bide wi' the weedie woman at the gate, an' hae ten pound i' the year an' a set o' claes aince i' the sax months." " That's a good hearing, Barbara." " Aye, sir, so it is ; but I canna say as muckle for the next ane. It's a sair affliction to a weel-doin' lone woman !

Ye ken Lucky Johnston 'at carries on the irritated water business her man had ? Aweel, ane o' her cairts was gaun through the kintra yestreen, an' jist i' the verra middle o' the Hilton, doon cam' a dowg-cairt wi' the horse kickin' an' fleein', an' dashed into the decent woman's cairt an' ca'ed it ower, an' siccan a scene as there was, Sandy says, ye niver saw ! A' the bottles poppin', an' the irritated waters fleein' aboot, weans and weemen skirlin', the horse doon, the man swearin,' an' sic a stramash as niver was ! " " That's bad — very bad ! And was anybody hurt ? " " Na, no' that I ken o'. An' they got the horse up an' yokit again someway, an' got the cairt hame. But no' a bottle o' the stuff was left whole, an' it wUl be a gey wheen pounds oot o' Lucky Johnston's pocket, honest woman."

" It wiU be that, Barbara," said the Lieutenant, glad of a sneeze to hide the smUe at Barbara's generic name for lemonade, ginger-beer, and soda water. Just then Mrs. Chalmers appeared, and Barbara, knowing her mistress had heard the news already from Sandy, so would permit no waste of time over a second recital of it, disappeared with a great show of haste. " So here's a letter, James. About the bairn, I suppose ? " " I think so," said the Lieutenant, adjusting his spectacles and turning the envelope about in his hand. " Yes, my dear, it is." And he proceeded to read aloud with some difficulty three pages of fashionable handwriting, in which Mrs. M'Lean informed him that, as she was starting with httle Nannie on such a date, she would be in London by the 20 th of February, stay four days there, and reach Edinburgh about the 26 th of the month, at latest, so that if Lieutenant Chalmers would go, or send, to Appin Lodge, Braid Terrace, Edinburgh, on the 28th, he would find the little girl ready to accompany him to The Haven.

" Bless me, James ! and this is the 25 th, and you with such a cold on you ! The thing is impossible ' You can't travel in this weather ! " " Nonsense, Janet ! my cold wiU be all right in two days, thanks to your good nursing, I am sure," the old man said, straightening himself and adjust ing his necktie. A necessity for going out which would set him free from the supervision and the dulness of convalescence was as welcome to him as a hohday to a schoolboy. " The thing is very easily managed. The provost has sent back my big greatcoat, you know, and I'U take a warm rug. I can go by the early train, get the chUd, have a little dinner in Edinburgh, and be back by 7.30. She'U have her luggage with her, so we'U get a trap from The Crown, and bring what we can up with us, and the carrier wiU fetch up what is too heavy for us.

We'U .be home in time for a cosy supper at eight o'clock, wife, never fear." " If it is as easy as aU that, could not I go, and save you ? " Mrs. Chalmers said rather doubtfuUy. " Certainly not ! " the old man exclaimed, much alarmed lest he should be deprived of the httle trip, and well knowing his wife's helplessness as a traveUer. " You wouldn't like it at all, Janet. Railway trains disagree with you, and you don't know your way about Edinburgh. And this place will be out the Morningside way, from the name, I think." " Well, if you think you feel able, James, for it is true I am just lost in a big town, and my head never gets used to the whirl of these trains, especially with bridges and tunnels and suchlike things that are fair against nature," the old lady replied, a good deal reheved that her husband had asserted himself for once and prevented her starting out into the great world alone.

So, on the morning of the 28 th, dressed in his huge greatcoat and with a large comforter well fastened round his neck, the Lieutenant started for Edinburgh by the early train, in dull but dry weather, and by twelve o'clock was descending from his cab at the handsome suburban vUla on the gate of which appeared the name "Appin Lodge." The street and the house were both suggestive of the quiet but ample comfort which befits the circumstances of officers who have served their country long enough to retire on a full pension, and who, by preference, sun themselves at sheltered Morningside, and go in by train or car to the U.S. Club day by day, handing in the house list to the Stores on the way, and filling up the idle days with a good deal of gossip with their feUow army men and the sprinkling of naval officers from the guardship at Queensferry, or settled in Edinburgh, — which somehow does not seem so popular a place of abode with the navy as with the army, — and if they are peculiarly active, mentally or physically, combining a little politics or philan thropy with their well-earned leisure.

Appin Lodge was one of the best of these suburban houses, and the very smart tablemaid when she opened the door viewed Lieutenant Chalmers' huge comforter and weather-tanned face with some amazement, but glancing at his card, and having a wholesome respect for both services, she thawed in manner, and told him pleasantly Mrs. M'Lean was at home, her mother, Mrs. Stewart, also, and little Miss Chalmers, and she thought he was expected. And apparently he was, for no sooner was he seated in the dainty drawing-room, than, with a good deal of rustle and frou-frou, a pretty young woman, much be-frizzed, came into the room, and, greeting him very pleasantly, introduced herself as Mrs. M'Lean. " Just come home, you know, to see mother, Lieutenant Chalmers, and leave my two children at school. Such great creatures they are ; Helene is as taU as I am, and George is quite too much for me.

Time he was ' hcked into shape,' you know ; that's what they do to schoolboys, isn't it?" " I believe so, madam ; at least, middies would teU you so," the old man replied, with grave politeness, rather taken aback by the volubility of a type of modern woman quite new to him. " What the chUdren wUl do without Nannie I don't know ! She is such a dear child, so original. We quite envy you having her." And little Mrs. M'Lean, as she looked at the very old-fashioned gentleman before her, and wondered if his wife was like him, gave a puzzled toss to her fluffy head, and thought what a lot of shocks Nannie would give them ! She was such an up-to date chUd, Nannie — oh, very much so indeed ! " Mrs. Stewart, my mother," she said, as the door opened to admit an elderly lady of the Anglo-Indian type common some twenty-five years ago, stately, pretty, a little faded, and exceedingly weU-bred.

" And Nannie," Mrs. M'Lean added. " Come along, Nan, and see your grandfather." From behind Mrs. Stewart peeped out a queer large-eyed, long-limbed child of ten, whose black frock was already too short for her, and showed a length of thin black legs, like some skinny bird's. The elfish chdd was perfectly self-possessed, and put out a smaU thin hand to her grandfather, who, as he took it, stooped and kissed her with tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat, for this strange httle creature was his boy Peter's chUd, and Peter had been very dear to him. The ladies insisted he must stay to luncheon, and at the exceUent, well-appointed meal he got on very well with Mrs. Stewart and with the Colonel, who came in before it was over ; but Mrs. M'Lean was rather too much for him, and the two spoUed chUdren, shortly to be disposed of at neighbouring schools, were made on the model of their mother, and equaUy loquacious.

He escaped at last from the kindly hospitality of Appin Lodge, and found that he had just time to treat Nannie and himself to tea and cakes in Princes Street, before their train started. The bustle at the station over, shortly after four o'clock they were flying northwards in the fading hght, the httle girl looking out with wistful eyes at the darkening windows, and too shy to bestow a word on her grandfather, now that she was alone with him, and the journey really begun. There was hah a gale blowing as they got out at last on the wind-swept platform, and Nannie had to hold her hat on with both hands, whUe her grand father had the luggage carried out, and arranged what was to go with them in the brougham from The Crown, and what was to follow next day with the carrier. It was a windy, puzzling place, Nannie thought, with the shimmer and lap of water not far off, and she looked with wet eyes at the cosy lights of the train as it dashed away northward into the darkness ; for now that she had come close to it, life with this funny old gentleman in the comforter presented rather a depressing prospect.

They drove through the hghted streets of the town, over a bridge, and away up a hUl, the wind increasing as they rose higher and neared the edge of the cliffs ; and then, as in quite a little hurricane they drew up at a door in a wall, an old woman with a high cap and carrying a lantern came out and said — " So ye're back, sir, an' this is the bairn,'' aud, lifting Nannie, bundled her, wraps and all, into a passage where, in the lamplight, stood a stern looking old lady, in a black silk gown, who kissed her kindly enough and asked her if she were very tired. The wraps were undone and supper was served ; and Nannie, tired and hungry, felt very glad of the tempting Findon haddocks with bread and butter and the tumbler of milk her grandmother gave her. As she looked round the quaint room, and heard the whistle of the wind and the roar of the sea, she almost fancied she was on board ship again ; an idea that grew upon her later on, as, tucked up in her little white bed by Barbara and her grandmother, she listened to the sounds of wind and water, and marvelled at her strange surroundings and the formidable, old-fashioned people among whom she found herself.

Snap, the colhe, was some comfort to her in her loneliness ; he was much like other dogs, she thought, only far older, and he had taken a fancy to her, and lay curled up on the rug in front of her bedroom fire, something alive and friendly in the strange sohtude.

Chapter III Incongruities

" You must still be bright and quiet And content with simple diet ; And remain through all bewild'ring Innocent and honest children." E. L. Stevenson. IN the cold hght of the spring morning grandmother and grandchUd stood surveying each other, and the opinions mutuaUy formed can hardly be said to have been favourable. Mrs. Chalmers looked with disapproval at the rather elfish appearance of Nannie, whose quick growth had, in the four months since her parents died, already sadly shortened her black frock, whUe her active habits had rubbed it somewhat bare at shoulders and elbows. Then there was the mass of tangled hair, far too heavy for the chUd to comb and brush for herself, in which an artist would have gloried, but of which her grandmother only thought as needlessly thick and troublesome, and which made her come to the unspoken conclusion that, outwardly at least, Nannie was not satisfactory.

" What," the old lady said to herself, " did a ss INCONGRUITIES 39 Christian chUd want with those large, curiously golden eyes that gazed so wistfully at you from the small white face, and that distressing abundance of wavy red-brown hair, that, as a stray watery sunbeam shone out and fell upon it, ghttered like burnished copper ? " The chUd was so thin too, so long-legged and angidar, and the very way she stood had something play-actor like about it, Mrs. Chalmers felt Even the Scarlet Woman of the Papacy herself was not more abhorrent to her stern Scotch creed than actors and play-acting ; " Children of Satan," she caUed them all, and that her own grandchild should have something about her suggestive of such people was truly terrible. And Nannie, as she gazed at her grandmother, was httle better pleased, and thought in her heart, " A funny old lady — very — and so funnUy dressed, too !

" For in aU the child's experience she had never seen anything hke Mrs. Chalmers' short morning gown of black merino, huge muslin cap with a black ribbon round it, and large linen apron with pockets. She had such keen bright eyes also, that looked you through and through as if they were trying to spy out any naughtiness, and then there was a downward droop of the lips and a little fine line at each side of them, that Nannie, with the instinctive knowledge of character which distinguished her through life, felt sure meant crossness. No, grandmother was not very prepossessing, on the whole. The chUd felt more drawn to her grandfather, who came in at that moment and bestowed a hearty kiss upon her, and was immediately followed by Barbara with the breakfast. As for Barbara, her appearance was a delight to Nannie, it was so quaint and so old-fashioned, something like " Old Mother Hubbard " in the fairy tale books, but without the stick and the hat!

Barbara was a law to herseh in the matter of fashion, and, of a morning especiaUy, she was garbed after a style not often seen among the domestics of the later half of the nineteenth century. Her costume consisted of a full round short skirt and bodice of dark wincey, the skirt reaching only to the ankles and showing thick black shoes and the tidiest of grey woollen stockings, a very large and very clean coarse white apron, a smaU red edged grey knitted shawl pinned across her chest, and on her head a big starched and friUed cap of stiff muslin. The double border of the cap made a quaint frame for the honest, keen old face, which was wrinkled and red-brown hke a russet apple ; the mouth was large and humorous, the nose was rather nondescript, and the small and kindly, if hot-tempered, brown eyes looked out very straight at life, and were as shrewd as they were bright.

Such was the figure that brought in the break fast tray, and to the chUd, accustomed to a neat foreign bonne and the picturesque costume of the Maltese populace, her appearance was comic in the extreme. So, to hide the desire to laugh, which her INCONGRUITIES 41 innate good breeding told her would be unkind, Nannie busied herself in patting Snap, who had followed the breakfast into the room. " And hoo's yer cauld, sir ? " Barbara said, as she placed three bowls of porridge on the table, with the toast and the teapot, and advanced to the fire, where she laid the dish of rizzered haddocks inside the fender, to be kept hot tiU the porridge had been consumed. " None the worse, thank you, Barbara, — 'deed I might almost say the better, — of the httle variety." " Aye, ye look it. It's just like a man body to cure a sair hoast wi' fleein' aboot the kintra ; stravaigin' in railway trains is as guid as meat an' drink to them !

" And with a sniff of scorn at a sex she despised as good for little but eating meat and making work, — though for her master she had something of the regard of personal possession common to long service, — she turned to Nannie with — " Weel, bairn, an' hoo are ye ? Did ye sleep fine ? " Nannie, accustomed to the polite address of her French bonne, drew herself up with a slight flash in her eyes, which her grandmother noted with some amusement. " Thank you, I am well, and I did sleep," she replied in the curious, formal way she sometimes spoke. " That's richt. Then set to your parritch ; I'se warrant they gied ye naething as guid in the outlandish place ye cam' frae ! " said Barbara, as she bustled out of the room. And Mrs. Chalmers added — " Do you like porridge, Nannie ? I hope so. " I do not know, grandmother ; I have never seen it before," the chUd answered, looking with dislike at the bowl in front of her.