"Aye, my dearie. She had broken the sixpence with him, but he was away in India then. I remember one day, as I sat on the churchyard wall, Sheila came over the moor, and she had a sprig of white heather in her hand. She held it up to me with a smile. 'It is good luck, Kezia,' she said, and her eyes seemed full of brown sunshine, 'and this morning I have heard from Fergus McGill himself, and it is he who is the guid lad with his letters. He is coming home, he says, and then we are to be wed, and it is the white heather that will bring us luck.' Ah, dearie, before three weeks were over, Sheila, our sweet Flower of the Deeside, lay in her coffin, and they put the white heather on her dead breast; and when Fergus McGill came home there was only the grave under the rowan tree. There, there, it is a queer world," finished Nurse Marks, "and there is many a love-story left unfinished, for 'man' (and woman, too) 'is born into trouble,' and I know that the women get the worst of it sometimes; for it stands to reason," continued the old woman, garrulously, "that they think a deal more of a love tale. Now, as we have finished tea, shall I take you to your room, my dearie? It is called the Pansy Room, and is close to mine. Miss Althea is a grand one for giving names. All the bedrooms are called after flowers, to match the paper and cretonne. There is the Rose Room and the Forget-me-not and the Pink Room, and the Leafy Room, and the Marigold Room, where they put gentlemen."
"Which is Miss Althea's?" asked Waveney, quickly.
"Oh, the Rose Room. Miss Althea has a passion for roses. Miss Doreen sleeps in the Forget-me-not Room; everything is blue there. The other rooms are for their guests, but near the servants' quarters there are two pretty little attics called 'Faith' and 'Charity,' where they put shop-girls who have broken down and need a rest; and these are never empty all the year round. There is a little sitting-room attached, where they take their meals. There, they are crossing the tennis-lawn this moment from the Porch House. The tall one is Laura Cairns; she has had an operation and has only just left the hospital, and the little fat one is Ellen Sturt; there is not much the matter with her except hard work and too much standing."
"Oh, how good they are!" thought Waveney, as Nurse Marks bundled down the passage before her. "Every one seems to have something to say in their praise, even the cab-driver;" and then she looked round the Pansy Room well pleased. It was so fresh, and dainty, and pretty, and, after her room at Cleveland Terrace, so luxuriously comfortable.
For there was actually a cosy-looking couch, and an easy-chair, and beautiful flowers on the toilet-table, and some hanging book-shelves full of interesting books.
The window looked over the tennis-lawn with the Porch House, where the girls were pacing arm-in-arm. One of them looked up at the window, and smiled a little as Waveney gazed down at her. Nurse Marks, who was already beginning to unpack, went on talking briskly.
"It was Miss Althea's thought, but Miss Doreen helped her to carry it out. It is always like that with my ladies, they are just the two halves of a pair of scissors, but they work together finely. What one says the other does. It is like the precious ointment, that's what it is, Miss Ward, my dear! and never a misunderstanding or a contrary word between them.
"The girls come for a month, and sometimes they stay longer; and if they are well enough they wait on themselves, or if not, Reynolds, the under housemaid, sees to them; and when the weather permits they are in the garden, or on the common the whole day long, and they have the run of the Porch House, too, and help themselves to books from the library; they are no trouble and fall in with our ways, and the blessing the Red House is to some of those poor things is past my telling. Now, dearie, shall I hang these things in the wardrobe for you—there is plenty of room and to spare. And then I will go back, and finish a bit of mending for Miss Althea."
Waveney was not sorry to be left alone; she wanted to begin a letter to Mollie. She had so much already to tell her. So she sat down at the writing-table, and her pen flew over the paper, until a quick, light tap at her door roused her, and Miss Althea entered.
Waveney gave a vivid description of her to Mollie afterwards. "She looked so grand and stately that I felt quite shy; but her dress was charming. It was a soft, cloudy grey, but it shimmered as though it were streaked with silver, and she had a close little bonnet that looked like silver too, and a ruff of fine cobwebby lace round her long neck. I fancy she always wears a ruff, and she looked more like Queen Bess than ever. Somehow she is oddly picturesque, and makes other people look commonplace beside her. But there, you must see her one day for yourself."