Lena Graham

by Cecilia Selby Lowndes

"I am going to let this," said her Aunt quietly.

So it was all right. Aunt Mary was coming with them; and Lena eagerly joined Milly in talking over their new home. How delightful it would be to live quite in the country! And very soon they were both quite eager to be there, and were planning about the gardens they were to have for their very own.

"You will find nice neighbours in the Freelings," said Miss Somerville to Mrs. Graham.

"Have they children?" was the eager question.

"Yes, six. Two are grown up. There are four at home, two girls and two boys—at least not the boys; they are at school."

"I wonder what they will be like—the girls I mean."

"The eldest girl is fifteen. The youngest will be a nice companion for you; she is only thirteen."

The prospect of the change gave the children plenty to think and talk about for the next day or two. Lena went so far in preparation that she went about collecting what she considered her own property from the different rooms, and was rather aggrieved that she was not allowed to pack them all up in readiness. Mama compromised the matter by allowing her, with Milly's help, to fill one box with the many books and toys that she had outgrown, and were too numerous to carry away; and this box, when ready, was to be sent to the poor little suffering children in the hospital How often that box was packed and unpacked I should be sorry to say: it was a great amusement and occupation to them for the next few days, as the weather had changed, and instead of bright sunshine and warm breezes, the rain came down steadily; and Milly and Lucy would look mournfully out of the window, thinking that here, as in India, there was to be no more hot bright suns for some time now that the rains had set in, though Lena assured them fifty times a day it would be sure to be fine to-morrow. This was all very well the first day; but when to-morrow came with clouded sky, Lucy grew very very angry when she heard Lena begin the same story "of to-morrow being fine," and accused her of being wicked and telling stories. A stormy scene was fast brewing indoors as well as out, when Mama heard the cause of anger, and Lucy had the matter explained to her, and hope once more "of seeing fair weather to-morrow" sprang up in her small mind.

In the midst of this wet weather they were all cheered and enlivened by Papa's return. Now they would be able to have all their questions answered about Astbury, as their new home was called. They had to curb their curiosity till after Papa had had dinner. Lena had still a little lingering awe of her father; and when he told them that they must keep all their questions until after he had finished his dinner, she did not dare to disobey him, as I fear her eagerness and curiosity would have tempted her to do if it had been her aunt or mother who had given the order.

As they were all seated round the fire listening to his account of Astbury and its neighbourhood, Aunt Mary, seeing her nieces' attention devoted to their father, quietly drew a letter from her pocket. Taking it out of the envelope, she began to read it. Soon after the conversation turned upon some matter that Lena did not think interesting, so she turned to her Aunt to ask some question. Instead of receiving the answer she had expected, Aunt Mary went on with her reading, evidently not having heard what she had said. "The letter seemed to interest her very much," Lena thought. She wondered who it could be from, and why had not Auntie told her of it, for during the time that aunt and niece had lived alone together Miss Somerville had got into the way of reading her letters aloud before her niece. It was a habit that she had got into during the years when she was quite alone and before she had taken charge of Lena: gradually she had not only read out the letters before the child, but as she grew older and more companionable, had spoken and discussed things that were in them before and with her. It was not a good thing for any child, especially for one like Lena Graham. Still it had been done in all love and with good intention. Rising from her seat, Lena went and perched herself on the arm of her Aunt's chair, so that she could read the letter over her shoulder. We must do Lena the justice to say, that though it was a wrong thing to do, it was not done with a wrong intention. She had always heard Auntie's letters, she would have told you, so there could not be the slightest harm in reading them. It was a very interesting one she saw at once; the handwriting was perfectly familiar to her as being that of a great friend of her Aunt's, who had often stayed with them—Miss Howard was her name. The contents puzzled Lena, for Miss Howard wrote as if she and Aunt Mary were going together somewhere, to a place called "Lucerne." Lena knew the name well, but for the moment she was confused as to its locality. As she tried to make out what it meant, she leant forward to see more easily. At that moment Colonel Graham looked up and saw Lena doing what he considered, and what certainly is, a most dishonourable action, reading what is not meant for one to see.