"I—think she'll be better for a cup of tea," she said; "we all shall." It cost her an effort to speak, for she felt awkward and embarrassed, and her words were very faint and stumbling, but she went to the fire and stirred it up to make the kettle boil. Then, by degrees, recovering herself, she quietly cut some bread and butter for all, and made the tea.
Bella shrank a little from her aunt when she handed her cup, and beyond the faintest "Thank you," did not utter a word. She was still suffering from the shock of the sudden assault and the blows. Her nerves were quivering, her head throbbing, and the only feeling she as yet experienced strongly was a kind of shame—shame for her aunt and for herself.
It was a most uncomfortable meal that, in spite of Miss Hender's efforts. William Hender sat morose and thoughtful; Bella, like her aunt, was embarrassed and very silent. The two boys and Margery alone found anything to say, or spirit to say it, and though all felt better and more cheerful for the meal, no one was sorry when it was ended.
Miss Hender was the first to rise. She returned to her washing-tub, William Hender to his work, and the children went out to their play in the garden. All went on as usual, and not a word more was said of the scene that had brought them all together. Yet all felt that in that short hour things had altered, and for ever. That something had happened which meant changes, perhaps not great, but changes for them all, and that life would never be quite the same again.
CHAPTER III.
THE LITTLE HERB-BED.
For some days after that unhappy Monday Bella and her aunt scarcely exchanged a word. It was not that Bella was sulky, or bore malice in her heart; it was chiefly that she felt embarrassed and awkward still. Indeed, they both felt so. That scene seemed to be for ever between them, and neither could forget it.
It was holiday time, too, so there was no school to take Bella away from her home, and as she did not like to ask Miss Hender to give her something to do, she wandered about, idle and unhappy, not knowing how to fill her days. Consequently she wandered more than once down the lane to Mrs. Langley's little cottage. The peace and the cheerfulness of that little home drew her irresistibly.
"Oh! if only our house was like this!" she exclaimed one day. "So quiet, and tidy, and clean. I should like to live in a little house like this all by myself when I grow up."